The Bloodstained Bride

by Rachel Woods

  Exhaling his irritation, Leo said, “Winnie didn’t get away with murder. Not only was there no evidence to connect her to Besi’s murder, but she had an airtight alibi. Winnie was boffing two pool boys in her suite at the Queen Palm when Besi was shot. You know that, Derek. Why you don’t understand it, is beyond me.”

  “Okay, fine. Winnie didn’t murder Besi.” Huffed Derek, resuming his manic pacing. “Then who killed her? Do the cops even know?”

  “We’ll know soon, hopefully,” said Burt. “As I said earlier, the police have developments in the case, and I invited Detective Baxter François to share them with us.”

  “Are you gonna tell the cops about those emails on Besi’s phone?” Derek asked Leo. “Because they need to know, don’t you think? Maybe whoever sent those threatening emails killed her?”

  “What threatening emails on Besi’s phone?” inquired Burt.

  After Vivian explained that, according to Melanie, Besi had received threatening emails earlier that year, Leo said, “Viv and I are going to tell the police about the emails as soon as we hear from Stevie’s hacker cousin.”

  Burt nodded. “Well, we’ll refrain from sharing that information with the detective.”

  Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” said Burt.

  The door opened, and Lemmie stepped inside the office to announce Detective Baxter François. Following greetings, François unbuttoned his beige linen sports jacket and took a seat in a third chair placed before Burt’s desk.

  “Mr. Hennessy,” said François, staring at Derek, who’d stopped pacing and stood rooted to the spot in front of the bookshelves. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  His expression wary, Derek asked, “Why?”

  “Derek, why don’t you pull up a chair,” said Burt, though his tone made the suggestion sound more like a command.

  After Derek complied with Burt’s demand, François said, “I was hoping to talk to you.”

  Derek frowned. “I already talked to you. I gave you my statement, and I don’t have anything else to say. I told you everything I know about Besi’s murder, which is nothing at all.”

  Leo frowned. Why did Derek sound so shrill and manic? What was with all the fidgeting in his chair, as though he was unable to sit still?

  “I have no idea who killed her,” continued Derek. “I don’t know who wanted her dead. That’s what you’re supposed to find out, but you haven’t told me anything. So maybe you should tell me something. Tell me who killed Besi.”

  What was Derek so damn nervous about? Leo wondered. He seemed to be filibustering. Answering questions that no one had asked.

  “I’ll get to who killed Besi in a moment,” said Detective François.

  Interesting, thought Leo, glancing at Vivian. Her glance at him told Leo that she was just as intrigued by the detective’s promise.

  “First, I have some questions for you, Mr. Hennessy,” said the detective.

  “I’m not talking without my lawyer,” insisted Derek.

  Burt said, “Detective François, you mentioned new developments in the case? I’d like to hear about them if you don’t mind.”

  Leo doubted that François appreciated Burt’s subtle demands, but the detective cleared his throat, and said, “As you know, we found the murder weapon used to kill Ms. Beaumont.”

  “The AR-15 rifle,” said Burt. “We are aware of that.”

  After a short exhale, François said, “You may also know that the gun was found in one of the rooms at a motel in Little Turkey, the Flamingo Inn.”

  “Can you please get to the stuff that we don’t know?” demanded Derek.

  “Derek, get ahold of yourself,” ordered Burt. “Detective François, please continue.”

  The detective said, “Well, here’s the stuff you don’t know: The last person to occupy the motel room where the murder weapon was recovered was a man named Aaron Jones.”

  “What the hell does any of this have to do with who killed Besi?” Derek jumped up from his seat. “Who the hell cares about some guy in a motel room?”

  As Burt demanded that Derek take his seat, Leo glanced at Vivian. As he’d expected, his wife seemed just as confused as he was about Derek’s sudden irrational outburst.

  “I told you that I would get to who killed Ms. Beaumont,” said François, “and I am fairly certain that Aaron Jones killed Ms. Beaumont.”

  “Why are you only fairly certain?” asked Leo.

  “Because these island cops don’t know what the hell they are doing,” said Derek, clutching the sides of the chair, knuckles white from his death grip. “You never should have been allowed to run this investigation!”

  “Derek!” warned Burt, his tone suggesting he had lost all patience with his godson.

  “We still need to confirm that the fingerprints found on the weapon belong to Aaron Jones,” said François, unflappable, as though Derek’s insults didn’t faze him. “However, there is evidence that Ms. Beaumont was Jones’ target.”

  “What’s the evidence?” asked Vivian.

  “We found a duffel bag in Jones’ motel room,” said François. “Inside were handwritten notes regarding a trip Ms. Beaumont made to the Aerie Islands in April. These notes included information about Ms. Beaumont’s flight schedule. There was also an address written on an index card which turned out to be the location of Ms. Beaumont’s estate in the Aerie Islands.”

  “How did this Jones person get Besi’s travel itinerary?” asked Burt.

  “I believe someone gave Jones the information,” said the detective.

  “Who?” asked Vivian.

  “I’ll get to that,” said the detective. “But, first, you all are aware that Aaron Jones is dead, right? I think there was a story in the Palmchat Gazette about it. I was asked to provide a comment, but I declined.”

  “We know Jones is dead,” said Leo.

  “Who told Jones that Besi was headed to the Aerie Islands?” asked Vivian.

  François said, “Ms. Beaumont didn’t him. There’s no evidence that she knew Aaron Jones. My theory is that Aaron Jones was hired to kill Ms. Beaumont. The person who hired Jones to kill Besi gave Jones her travel itinerary.”

  “Your stupid theory is bullshit!” Derek said, glaring at the detective. “No one would hire a hitman to kill Besi. That’s ridiculous!”

  François said, “We also found a Hermes briefcase in Jones’ motel room which was—”

  “We know that,” said Leo, growing increasingly impatient with François’ unnecessary plodding. “It was in the story we published in the Palmchat Gazette. There was a hundred thousand dollars in the briefcase.”

  “Leonard, please allow the detective to give us all of the details,” said Burt.

  The detective said, “I believe that money was Jones’ payment for killing Ms. Beaumont. Now, the interesting thing is, we found Jones’ fingerprints on the Hermes briefcase, which was not surprising, but there was also a second set of prints on the briefcase.”

  “Who did those second set of prints belong to?” asked Vivian.

  “This is crazy!” Derek exploded. “If this Jones sonofabitch killed Besi, it was because he was obsessed with her, or something. No one hired the guy to kill her!”

  “What makes you so sure of that?” Leo stared at Derek.

  His eyes wild, Derek sputtered but seemed unable to manage a coherent sentence.

  Burt said, “What about the second set of prints, detective?”

  After a slight pause, Detective François said, “The second set of prints on the Hermes briefcase belong to Derek Hennessy.”

  28

  A strange, suppressed silence smothered the room.

  Leo glanced at Vivian, and then Burt, and finally at Derek. Disbelief covered their faces. Leo had the feeling that they were all struggling to absorb the shock of the bomb François had just dropped.

  Had he heard the detective correctly?

  “What the hell? That’s not possible. T
hat’s crazy.” Derek’s tone was a high-pitched mix of outrage and confusion. “How the hell could my fingerprints be on some briefcase you found in a seedy motel room?”

  “Detective François,” began Burt, his expression concerned. “Can you please explain how you came to the conclusion that—”

  “He can’t explain because it’s not true!” Derek shot to his feet.

  François said, “When Mr. Hennessy was arrested for assaulting Mr. York, he was booked and fingerprinted. Those prints were compared to the second set of prints found on the metal clasp of the briefcase.”

  “What makes you think that briefcase belongs to me?” Derek asked.

  “Do you have a Hermes briefcase?” asked Leo. Staring at Derek, Leo started to wonder if maybe the reason for Derek’s agitation was guilt.

  “Let’s allow the detective to inform us,” said Burt.

  François said, “We found an item in the briefcase which strongly suggested that it belonged to Mr. Hennessy.”

  Derek scoffed. “That’s impossible.”

  “It was your passport, Mr. Hennessy,” said the detective. “We found it in an interior pocket of the briefcase.”

  “Someone must have stolen my briefcase,” insisted Derek.

  Leo remarked, “So, I guess that answers my question. You do have a Hermes briefcase.”

  “And I have to wonder, Mr. Hennessy,” said the detective, “how your briefcase ended up in the motel room of Aaron Jones?”

  “How the fuck should I know?” Derek thundered, resuming his frenzied pacing. “I told you. Somebody must have stolen it. There’s no other way my briefcase could have ended up in that motel room. I certainly didn’t take it there! Or, is that what you think?”

  “I think that’s exactly what you did,” said Detective François.

  Turning his withering glare on the detective, Derek asked, “Why the hell would I have given Aaron Jones a briefcase full of money? I don’t even know Aaron Jones.”

  “You sure about that?” asked François.

  “What is the point of these questions?” asked Derek. “You came here to tell us about some new developments with the case—“

  “Which I did,” said François.

  “Yeah, some asshole named Aaron Jones killed Besi,” said Derek. “But, he’s dead, too, so he won’t be brought to justice.”

  “You’re right. Aaron Jones can’t be arrested and put in jail,” said the detective. “However, Ms. Beaumont will have justice.”

  “What does that mean?” Derek asked, lowering himself slowly back into the chair.

  “Detective,” said Burt, fixing his steely gaze on François. “I may be wrong, but I sense some insinuation in your tone. Do you have some accusation in addition to your revelation?”

  Leo studied the detective as François gave Burt an evasive smile.

  “I’d just like to ask Mr. Hennessy a few more things,” said the detective, turning in his chair toward Derek. “Some details I’d like to clear up.”

  Exhaling, Derek asked, “What details?”

  “Have you driven a silver Mercedes Maybach S560 while you’ve been on the island, Mr. Hennessy?” asked the detective, removing a cell phone from the inside pocket of his jacket.

  Leo’s pulse jumped.

  “I have the license plate number information saved in my phone.”

  After François recited the plate number, Burt said, “I own that Mercedes, detective. It’s one of the cars in my fleet. Why are you asking about it?”

  “Was there some damage to it recently?” asked François.

  Glancing at Vivian, Leo could tell that she, too, was remembering the broken taillight on the German sedan that Isaac had pointed out to them. Turned out, it was the car Derek had borrowed when he’d taken a midnight drive to clear his head.

  Burt said, “I’m not sure. If there were, my garage manager, Isaac would have taken care of it.”

  “There was some damage to the car,” Vivian spoke up and explained the situation with the taillight.

  François said, “We found plastic chunks and shards on the ground outside of Aaron Jones’ motel room. When forensics analyzed the shards, they determined that they were broken pieces from the taillight of a car. Further research helped us narrow down the make and model of the car. A search of the island vehicle registration records showed that the only silver Mercedes Maybach on the island belonged to Burt Bronson. Mr. Hennessy, did you drive the Mercedes to the Flamingo Inn in Little Turkey?”

  “Why the hell would I have done that?” Derek demanded. “I told you that I didn’t know Aaron Jones.”

  Detective François sighed, and then said, “Mr. Hennessy, you did know Aaron Jones. We found Jones’ cell phone—that little detail was something I kept to myself so you wouldn’t have read about it in the Palmchat Gazette—and we found several messages between you and Aaron Jones.”

  Shaking his head, Derek sputtered. “That’s not possible.”

  “What do the messages say?” asked Vivian.

  Leo was curious, as well, as his gaze drifted from Derek’s panicked outrage to Burt’s disappointment and skepticism as he regarded his godson.

  “I don’t have the transcripts in front of me,” said François. “But, Mr. Hennessy and Aaron Jones were texting about money.”

  “Money?” asked Leo, sitting forward as he stared at the detective.

  “That’s a lie!” Derek said.

  “Mr. Hennessy and Aaron Jones were discussing a payment that Mr. Hennessy was going to make to Aaron Jones,” said François.

  “That’s bullshit!” Derek protested.

  Burt said, “What kind of payment, detective?”

  “Mr. Hennessy paid Aaron Jones to kill Ms. Beaumont,” said the detective as he rose from the chair to stand. “And that’s why, Derek Hennessy, you are under arrest for solicitation of the murder of Bessemer Elizabeth Beaumont.”

  29

  “Dad just called,” said Leo, closing the door behind him after he walked into Vivian’s office at the Palmchat Gazette. “He bailed Derek out of jail, and they should be back in Montmarch in about an hour, or so.”

  “Did Burt say how Derek is holding up?” asked Vivian as she turned from her computer.

  “I didn’t ask,” said Leo, dropping down onto the couch against the far wall directly opposite her desk. “And I don’t care how he’s doing. All I want Derek to tell me is the truth.”

  “You want to know if he hired Aaron Jones to kill Besi,” said Vivian.

  “I already know that Derek hired Jones to kill Besi,” said Leo. “I want him to come clean and admit it. I don’t want any more of his lies or half-truths or plausible denials.”

  “You’ve made up your mind, and you won’t change it,” said Vivian. “You believe Derek put a hit out on Besi.”

  “What else can I believe?” asked Leo, his tone incredulous as he stared at her.

  “Derek said Jones was blackmailing him,” said Vivian. “You don’t think that’s true?”

  “For the record, no, I don’t believe Jones was blackmailing Derek, but even if that is true, how did Besi end up dead?”

  Vivian thought for a moment, struggling to come up with a plausible answer, something that made sense, a theory that wasn’t based on unfounded conjecture.

  Leo said, “The answer is, Besi doesn’t end up dead if Jones was blackmailing Derek. If the hundred thousand dollars in the Hermes briefcase is a blackmail payment, then it means Derek complied with Jones’ extortion demand. Jones has his money so why would he kill Besi? He wouldn’t.”

  “Maybe Derek didn’t comply with Jones’ demands,” suggested Vivian. “We don’t have the texts between Derek and Jones. Maybe Jones wanted more than a hundred thousand. Maybe Jones asked for a million dollars, and when Derek gave him a tenth of that amount, maybe Jones killed Besi because Derek didn’t hold up his end of the deal.”

  Leo shook his head. “Babe, you know that’s not how blackmail works. If Jones wanted a million and
Derek only gave him a hundred thousand, then Jones would escalate his threats to expose Derek. He wouldn’t kill Derek’s fiancée.”

  Frustrated, Vivian said, “I know, but—”

  “Stop trying to come up with some alternative scenario. You heard the evidence against Derek,” Leo said. “You were there when Baxter François laid everything out. It all makes sense.”

  “Does it, though?” asked Vivian, cautious as she considered how to raise her doubts and concerns about the allegations against Derek. “Are you sure that Derek wanted Besi dead?”

  Leo gaped at her. “How can you think that he didn’t? Vivian, the evidence against Derek is solid.”

  “I’ve been thinking about the evidence,” said Vivian, reaching for an editing pen from the coffee mug she used to hold writing utensils. “I have some concerns.”

  “Are you serious?” Leo asked. “Are you saying you think Derek is innocent?”

  “I didn’t say I thought he was innocent,” said Vivian. “I said I had concerns about the evidence against him.”

  Leo folded his arms. “What concerns?”

  Vivian paused. She didn’t want to cause an argument, though she was used to sparring with Leo when they had differences of opinion about stories they were investigating. Vivian wasn’t one to back down or suppress her beliefs. She was never afraid to make a point or present her case, but she felt she would have to be careful when it came to Derek Hennessy.

  Derek’s alleged involvement in Besi’s death was an issue that might become a point of contention and discord between them.

  Vivian sighed, lifted her thick column of braided hair from her neck, and placed it over her left shoulder. “I just think it would be best to take a hard, critical look at the evidence Baxter presented and not jump to a definite conclusion.”

  “You think I’m jumping to conclusions? You think I haven’t thought about the evidence? I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” said Leo. “I keep going over it and over it in my head, trying to come up with a different conclusion, one where it doesn’t seem possible that Derek hired Jones to kill Besi, but I haven’t been able to do that.”