Diagnosis: Death (The Paul Monroe Mysteries Book 2)

by A. P. Eisen

  “Yeah, far as I know. Rehab didn’t do shit for him. It’s like he didn’t care, you know?”

  “Did he ever say anything else to you about his father?”

  “Yeah.” Bryce’s eyes widened as if a realization hit him.

  “What?” Paul’s fingers tightened on his pen.

  “It was like a month or two ago. Last time we—he got high. We were hanging out, and he said if his father were dead, he would have enough money to do whatever he wanted.” His mouth dropped open. “Shit. You mean Chase killed his dad?”

  “Thank you, Mr. Nichols. If we need to talk to you again, we’ll call.”

  “Yeah, sure, but—”

  “No, there’s nothing else.” They left him in the room and retraced their steps out of that dark and depressing building.

  While driving back, they compared notes. “What did you think?” Paul kept his eyes on the road.

  “I think Sonny Boy is in trouble. And we need to call his lawyer if he hasn’t called us by the time we get to the precinct.”

  “Yeah. We’ll file our reports and get on that.”

  With Chase now tagged as suspect number one, Paul wondered if the case would wrap up quickly or if something else would reveal itself.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Cliff?”

  By midafternoon, Cliff had gone back and forth, his need to apologize to his father and make peace warring with the need to hold on to the hurt he’d lived with for years. He was glad for the interruption now, and felt guilty he hadn’t called his best friend to tell him everything that had happened. He knew Ryan would be upset with him.

  “Ryan, hey. I’m glad you called.”

  “Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

  At Ryan’s slightly peeved voice, Cliff’s conscience pricked him. Since he’d been with Paul, Cliff knew he’d drifted from people, and he’d sworn he’d never be that guy who dropped his friends when in a relationship. Yet that was exactly who he’d become. The last time he saw or spoke to Ryan was the previous Saturday at dinner when Paul kissed him, and they’d never talked about it, nor had he told Ryan about his parents.

  “Are you on shift today?”

  “Evening.”

  “Want to have lunch? You could come here, or I can meet you. Whatever works best for you.”

  “If you have the time to spare.”

  Oh yeah. Ryan was pissed.

  “Pick a place.”

  “How about Jenny’s Diner off Oak? In twenty minutes?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “See you then.”

  Cliff knew he had some explaining to do. Before leaving, he did a walk around the lobby, noting the bar area was working well with the new staff hired after Amy had been arrested. Jade stood at the restaurant’s hostess station, and she smiled and waved him over.

  “Cliff, I’m glad to see you.”

  When Jerry was killed and Jade had discovered his infidelities, Cliff had thought she might quit and leave Thornwood Park completely to start fresh. Instead, she confided in him that she went to therapy, which made her realize she deserved better than a man who couldn’t be faithful, simply because she was afraid of being alone. Over the past months, she’d regained her confidence, and Cliff was thrilled she’d stayed on, as she was the best manager he had.

  “How’s it going? Are we busy?” He peered over her shoulder at the half-full area. “Looks pretty good.”

  “It is. We’re running ahead of last month, which was ahead of the month before. I might need to hire more waitstaff. The bar area is solid. They’re working out great.”

  “I see that. No scheduling difficulties yet?”

  “Not at all. Once we went with rotating shifts, with each worker getting to work a weekend, it’s been smooth. Not one complaint.”

  “I’m glad. And glad you worked it all out to stay here. I would’ve hated to lose you.”

  “It would’ve been stupid of me to give up the job I loved for someone who never really cared about me.”

  She blinked rapidly, and Cliff pointed to an empty booth. “Want to sit a minute?”

  They sat down, and she took the table napkin and dabbed at her eyes. “I know. I’m stupid to still have feelings.”

  “No. Not at all. I’d be surprised if you didn’t. And it’s going to take time.”

  “I’m seeing a therapist and talking to her has helped me understand where I went wrong and what I can do to change things.”

  “And it’s helping. I can see.”

  “Yes. I need to take things slow and let them develop naturally.”

  He nodded. “I’m glad to hear you say that. Sounds like a healthy way of thinking. How’s everything else going?”

  “Good. I wanted to first get the job squared away and show you that I was capable before I start thinking of my personal life.”

  “You’ve succeeded.”

  She beamed at him. “Thank you. Now I can see if I want a relationship again.”

  “I’ve got to go meet a friend for lunch, but don’t be a stranger. Stop by my office if you ever need to talk.”

  “I will. And I want to thank you for giving me another chance after I messed up so terribly.”

  “You made a bad mistake, but you owned up to it. Everyone deserves a second chance to make things right.”

  He left the hotel and drove to the diner, thinking about what he told Jade. If he followed his own advice, then he should give his parents that second chance to make things right. But were they doing it for the right reasons?

  Ryan was already in a booth, and Cliff waved to his friend. The sun shone bright on his red-gold hair, making the dusting of freckles on his face and muscular forearms gleam like gold, but his blue eyes held none of their usual sparkle.

  “Hey. Were you here long? Sorry.”

  “No big deal,” Ryan said. His cool response hit hard.

  “Ry, come on. If you have something to say, say it. Don’t sit there and pout.”

  “Pout? What the fuck does that mean?” Ryan’s icy demeanor slipped into anger. “You and I used to hang out. When you needed me, I was there. Now you’ve got your guy, so I’m expendable? That’s not friendship.”

  “You’re right.”

  Ryan blinked. If he thought Cliff would argue with him, he was mistaken. “I’ve been a shit friend to you, and I’m here to apologize. I haven’t kept up my end.”

  “Well, yeah.” Ryan played with the empty sweetener packs he’d used in his coffee. “After the last time, I thought you’d learned your lesson.”

  “Sometimes I need a kick in the ass to tell me what to do.”

  But Ryan didn’t smile. “I don’t get it. Do you sit at home every night and wait for him to come over? Doesn’t it get boring?”

  From when they first became friends, he and Ryan had wanted something different. Ryan made it clear he had no plans to ever settle down, he enjoyed his single life. He dated and went to clubs, had affairs but never anything serious. And as far as he could tell, Ryan was happy.

  “No. I don’t wait around for him, like you say. I work hard. I’m tired when I get home, and all I want is to have a nice dinner and talk about my day with someone who’s interested in me for something else besides sex.”

  “And he gives you that?” No longer angry, Ryan sounded curious.

  “Yeah. And more. Is he tired ninety percent of the time? Yeah. But there are things he does and says that show me how much he cares about me.”

  “Do you go out at all?”

  “In what spare time?” Cliff joked. “He’s investigating a murder now. But we go to dinner once a week if we can.”

  “I was surprised that night at the Tavern.” He rubbed his chin. “But I also thought that meant I’d meet him.”

  “It’s been a crazy week.” Cliff watched the waitress approach. “Let’s order, and I’ll fill you in.”

  He ordered a grilled chicken Caesar salad, and Ryan ordered a burger and fries. The waitress brought them two glasses o
f water and left.

  “So what do you need to tell me? What’s been so crazy?”

  At his recitation of the facts—from his father’s phone call about his mother’s illness to the previous night when he had the argument with his father—Ryan’s eyes grew wide, and his jaw dropped by the end of the story.

  “Damn, Cliff. I’m sorry about your mom. And the rest…” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “I know. I was so shocked to hear his voice after all those years, I jumped at the chance to see them, and when I spoke to them, I was so thrilled, I didn’t stop to think too deeply. But the more I thought about it, the more it seemed that I gave in too easily. Are they going to expect me to stay in the background? How did they explain my disappearance to everyone? And what about Paul?”

  “Well, what about him?” Ryan challenged. “What does he think?”

  “He met them. And when I went to see them at home, he came to check on me to make sure I was okay.” He didn’t miss the shock of surprise in Ryan’s eyes. “I know you’re hung up on the fact that he hasn’t come out to everyone yet. I get it. But having him be there for me, without even asking? That’s important.”

  Ryan took a sip of his coffee, then pushed it away. “I get it. I do. And that makes me feel better about him. But right now my beef is with you. You never called to tell me anything was going on in your life. You’re my friend, and you’ve dropped out of sight. It isn’t Paul who’s taking you away; it’s you.”

  The waitress set their food in front of them, but Cliff barely noticed. Once Ryan’s words sank in, they hit him hard.

  “You’re right.”

  “Come again?” Ryan held his ear, and for the first time a smile lightened his face. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “Idiot.” It felt good to be with Ryan again. “I promise I’ll stay in touch more.”

  “Okay. And I won’t give you such a hard time, knowing you’re under stress. I’m glad your mother’s doing better and her prognosis is good. So I guess you need to ask yourself, if you want to be totally selfish about it, what are you getting out of this?”

  He nibbled on a piece of lettuce. “It would be nice to have my family again. I’ve told you how hard it was for me in those early years.”

  “Exactly.” Ryan nodded. “So they face a crisis and want to make amends. They apologize and hope you’ll forgive and forget. And in the excitement and worry about your mother’s illness and talking to them again, you made a quick decision, but now you’re not so sure.”

  “Well, yeah. That’s about it. And I’m torn, Ry. That argument with my father made me feel like he really doesn’t want me in their lives, but my mother told me to bring Paul so she can get to know him better.”

  “Your father might not be able to accept it; you’ll have to face that fact. Are you willing to have half and not the whole?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to be the cause of problems between them.”

  Ryan finished chewing his bite of hamburger and held a fry aloft as he spoke. “That’s bullshit. Their marriage isn’t your issue. What do you want, Cliff? That’s the issue.”

  “I know,” he said miserably, staring into his mostly untouched salad bowl. “All I want is to be happy. If I can have Paul and my family, it would be the best of all worlds. But if they can’t really acknowledge how hurtful their actions and words were, there’s really no hope.” He slumped against the booth.

  “Then there’s your answer. You need to lay it on the line, saying exactly what you just said to me. Accept me as I am, or we can’t have a relationship.”

  The waitress walked by with a pot of coffee in her hand. “May I have some coffee, please?” Cliff asked.

  “Of course, honey.” She poured him a cup of coffee, and he drank it down, but it did little to melt the cold inside him.

  “What if they don’t agree?”

  “Then you’re no different than you were before. You live your life and go on. But if they want you with them and are willing to work at it, you can have it all.”

  Ryan never had to worry—he was one of the lucky ones and always knew his loving family would stand by him. They’d welcomed Cliff into their home for holidays, and he loved them. But they weren’t his parents.

  “I guess that’s the crux of it, right?”

  “It is, brother.”

  They finished their lunch, and Ryan put his arm around Cliff’s shoulders while walking to the parking lot. They stopped by Cliff’s car. “What’re you going to do?”

  “Think about it for the rest of the afternoon, I guess. Then make a decision and talk to them about it.”

  “Whatever you choose, I’m behind you.”

  “I’ll let you know what happens.”

  “You better.” Ryan gripped his shoulder.

  “I promise.” He missed Ryan.

  They hugged, and Cliff watched his friend drive away. He pulled out his phone and sent Paul a text that he was going to his parents’ house later, then got into his car and drove back to work.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  After interviewing Bryce Nichols at Thornwood Prep, Paul and Rob returned to the precinct, where they were stopped by Amanda Jensen, the officer on duty and a first-year recruit. She was so new, Paul imagined he could still see the creases in her uniform.

  “Hi, guys. Lieutenant Kraft wants to talk to you both.”

  They exchanged glances. Shit. That was never a good sign. Kraft wasn’t the type to ask for cozy chats.

  “Is he there?” Paul sighed and pushed his hand through his hair. All he wanted to do was find out who murdered Dean Ulrich. Everything else, politics included, could go to hell when a murderer was out there. He imagined that nameless, faceless person sitting around every night, laughing at them, and that offended his sense of order and justice.

  “He’s on the phone. I’ll let you know when he’s ready for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  They trudged back to their desks and wrote the reports on their meetings with both Davenport and Nichols; then Paul got the call.

  “He’s ready for you now.”

  He snapped his fingers at Rob, who was on the phone with Annabel. Time to go, he mouthed.

  “Okay, babe, gotta go. Feel good, and I’ll see you tonight.” Rob ended his call, and they walked a funeral march to Kraft’s office.

  “Come in,” he called out.

  Paul and Rob walked inside the lieutenant’s cramped office.

  “Sit down, both of you.”

  Well, that wasn’t encouraging. They each took a seat in the small, uncomfortable wooden chairs.

  “You went to talk to Chase Ulrich yesterday?”

  “Yes, sir. He’s a suspect in his father’s death.”

  “By what facts?”

  Rob shot Paul a look. They’d filed reports at the end of each day. Obviously, the “facts” weren’t important enough to read until Kraft got a call from someone.

  “He had motive, means, and opportunity.”

  “And then today you went to Thornwood Prep?”

  Good news travels fast.

  “We wanted to interview Chase Ulrich’s best friend and roommate. We believed he had information that would bolster our case.”

  “And you thought it wise to do this without informing me? Considering who Nichols’s father is?”

  “Sir, we didn’t stop to investigate Nichols because he’s not a suspect, so we’re not aware of who his father is.”

  The dark expression on Kraft’s face made his balls shrivel.

  “His father is the Chief Judge of the State Supreme Court. Now does his name sound familiar?”

  Fuck. Dalton Nichols.

  “Yes, sir. But we had no idea when we questioned his son, and we assured him he wasn’t under investigation for anything. We were asking questions regarding Chase Ulrich.”

  Kraft’s hard eyes narrowed, and he shifted his focus from him to Rob, then back again, weaving like a cobra, ready to strike. “Ulric
h’s grandfather is a personal friend of the mayor.”

  Double fuck. He hated this political shit and was desperately holding on to the thread of his temper.

  “Sir,” Rob said. “How are you suggesting we proceed? At this moment, Chase Ulrich is our number-one suspect. We’re waiting for his attorney to contact us to set up a time to question him further.”

  Paul threw him a grateful look. If it were up to him, he would’ve shot off his mouth and probably gotten his badge and gun yanked.

  “I’m not here to do your job, Detectives. I’m telling you to tread carefully and make sure you don’t fuck up.”

  “Yes, sir. We’ll do our best.”

  “Go one step further than that. And watch that step.”

  Paul didn’t trust his voice to answer, so he nodded. He hustled out of there with Rob on his heels, and they didn’t speak until they were at their desks, in front of their computers.

  Rob kicked his chair. “You were good, Paulie. I thought for a second there you were gonna lose it.”

  Paul rubbed his chin. “It was a close call, especially with all that name-dropping. Watch that punk come in with a smirk a mile long, thinking he bested us.”

  “If he comes in.”

  “He’d better,” Paul growled. “Let’s go through our notes and see what we’ve got on him. I’m sure Catherine Ulrich will have the best criminal defense attorney representing her son, and with Kraft watching our every move, we’ll need to be on our toes.”

  Rob, flicking through his notebook, stopped and wheeled his chair closer. “Do you think he was warning us to back off?”

  Paul grimaced. “Maybe. But I’ll be damned if I let someone walk because he lined the mayor’s pockets.”

  “Same. Now, what I have about our boy is that he had breakfast with his mom at around eight, then was listening to music before going to play tennis with a friend. That never happened.”

  “Yeah.” Paul read through his notes. “Which means no one saw him before he had breakfast. He had time to go to the park, fight with his father, whack him, then return home.”

  “We never asked the housekeeper if she saw him leave, did we?”