by Rachel Woods
“You’re the world’s greatest investigative reporter.” Leo glanced at her. “Can’t you figure it out?”
“Leonard,” Vivian said, glaring at him. “I’m not in the mood, okay? I’ve been busy all day, I had to skip lunch, and right now, I should be in a meeting with the production department, but I canceled it because we need to talk about your accusations against Derek.”
Shaking his head, Leo leaned back in his chair and stared at her. “You want to know why I think Derek had Jones killed?”
“I’ve been waiting since yesterday,” Vivian snapped.
“Remember that duffle bag the cops found in Jones’ hotel room?” Leo asked.
Nodding, Vivian said, “The bag contained information about Besi’s travel plans. Someone gave Jones that information.”
“Not someone,” said Leo. “Derek.”
Disturbed by his decision to believe the worse about Derek, Vivian shook her head.
“No, think about it,” said Leo. “Besi was murdered on her wedding day, in St. Killian. So why would Jones have her Aerie Islands travel itinerary?”
Not quite sure where her husband was heading, Vivian waited for him to continue before she commented.
“I believe that Jones was supposed to kill Besi in the Aerie Islands,” said Leo. “But, for some reason, he didn’t get the job done. So, he had to travel to St. Killian to murder her.”
“You think Derek wanted Besi dead before they had a chance to walk down the aisle?” asked Vivian. “Why? You think he had cold feet? If that was the case, he could have pulled a runaway groom. He didn’t have to kill her to get out of marrying her.”
“I’m not sure why Derek wanted Besi dead,” said Leo. “But, he did. So, he hired Jones. Or, rather, Skip hired Jones. And then Skip probably killed Jones, at Derek’s request.”
“Let me see if I have this straight,” said Vivian. “Your theory is that Derek wanted Besi dead, so he gave his fixer, Skip Taylor, the task of finding a hitman to kill her. The hitman, Jones, was supposed to kill Besi while she was in the Aerie Islands getting plastic surgery, but that didn’t work out, so Jones traveled to St. Killian to kill Besi.”
“And then Derek told Skip to kill Jones,” said Leo. “Most likely, Derek wanted to make sure that Jones would never be able to rat on him.”
Tilting her head, considering her husband’s theory, Vivian asked, “Let’s say you’re right. Why would Derek and Skip leave behind evidence in Jones’ motel room that implicates Derek?”
“Red herring clues,” said Leo. “Evidence designed to corroborate Derek’s story about paying Jones money as part of a blackmail scheme. You know who we need to talk to? The woman who came to St. Killian with Jones. The brunette who wouldn’t take off her sunglasses.”
Vivian asked, “Why do we need to talk to her?”
“I agree with François’ theory about her,” said Leo. “She was working with Jones. We need to find the brunette. She’ll prove that I’m right about Derek.”
“What about finding Skip Taylor?”
Leo asked, “What do you think he’s going to tell me? The truth?”
“Why do you assume he’ll lie?” Vivian asked.
“Skip is a fixer, Viv,” said Leo. “That’s what fixers do. They lie. That’s how they fix things. He’s going to tell me exactly what Derek wants him to tell me.”
“Skip can give us the details that Derek doesn’t know,” said Vivian. “For instance, what evidence did Jones have on Derek. Skip can tell us more about the text messages he exchanged with Jones. Skip can tell us what he and Besi talked about. I’m sure he wanted to discuss the payment to Jones.”
“Talking to Skip Taylor would be a waste of time.”
Vivian shook her head. “I disagree.”
“I don’t believe for one moment that Skip took over the situation with Jones so that Derek could keep his hands clean,” said Leo. “Derek has blood all over his hands—Besi’s blood.”
32
Cursing under her breath, Vivian frowned as she stared at her computer.
She’d read the latest budget report from the accounting team twice already, and the numbers still didn’t seem to make sense. She couldn’t concentrate. She couldn’t focus.
Vivian rubbed her temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache.
For the past three days, she’d been irritable and cranky. She might have blamed it on her period, but it wasn’t her time of the month. Vivian knew the reason for her bad mood.
The reason crawled into bed next to her every night.
Leo was getting on her last nerve.
She was so over his bitterness and resentment against Derek. He was allowing those destructive feelings to cloud his judgment. In his zeal to convince himself of Derek’s guilt, he willfully overlooked evidence that pointed to Derek’s innocence.
There was no clear motive for Derek to want Besi dead, but Leo didn’t think that mattered. The police still hadn’t released the transcripts of the texts between Derek and Jones, despite repeated requests from the team of defense attorneys Burt had retained to represent his godson. It was entirely possible that the content of the texts had been misconstrued or misunderstood, but Leo didn’t believe that.
Vivian turned from the glare of her computer screen and rubbed her eyes.
She didn’t like being opposed to her husband on the issue of Derek’s involvement in Besi’s murder.
Leo had decided that Derek’s participation in Besi’s death was a foregone conclusion. Wasn’t like her husband to be so resolute and unyielding in his opinions. He’d always been able to be objective. As journalists, they were both committed to fair and balanced reporting without any personal bias.
Why was her husband so obtuse and narrow-minded? Why was he refusing to consider that he might be wrong about Derek?
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, but Vivian was glad to focus on something else.
“Come on in,” she called out.
Sophie Carter entered. Dressed in yellow Bermuda shorts with a matching jacket, she was all sunshine and happiness with her infectious grin and springy, natural curls bouncing in time with her jaunty walk.
Despite her best efforts not to, Vivian frowned.
Sophie’s smile faded as she walked to the chair in front of Vivian’s desk. “You okay? Were you in the middle of something? I can come back if—”
“No, no, it’s just …” Vivian stopped, struggling to come up with an excuse for her sour mood.
“What?” asked Sophie, concern in her soft brown eyes.
The sympathy in the junior reporter’s gaze made Vivian long for a trusted confidant. With an acute forlornness, she was instantly reminded that the one person she’d been able to talk to about anything was lost to her forever—her best friend, Amal.
“Viv?” prompted Sophie
“Leo is acting like a stubborn jerk,” Vivian blurted out, surprised at her admission.
Sophie’s eyes widened.
“He refuses to believe that Derek is telling the truth,” Vivian said and went on to list her grievances against her husband and his resolute belief in Derek’s guilt.
“Can I ask you something?” asked Sophie.
“Okay …” said Vivian, hoping she wouldn’t regret her decision to confide in Sophie.
“Why are you so sure that Derek isn’t guilty?”
“Because …” Vivian trailed off, no longer sure that her belief in Derek’s innocence was steadfast or unwavering. “There’s no conclusive, definitive proof of his guilt. There’s no evidence that he paid Aaron Jones to kill Besi. Detective Francois claims there are texts between Derek and Jones about some payment, but the police haven’t released those texts. How do we know that Derek and Jones were texting about how much Derek was going to pay Jones to kill Besi?”
“How do you know that Derek and Jones weren’t texting about killing Besi?” suggested Sophie.
“Derek said Jones was blackmailing him,” said Vivian. “Jones conta
cted Derek to make an extortion demand.”
Sophie asked, “But, how do you know that’s true? Because Derek Hennessy said so? How well do you even know him? Didn’t you just meet? And how long has Leo known Derek?”
“They grew up together,” said Vivian.
Nodding, Sophie said, “I know you want Leo to look at the situation objectively, but maybe he can’t. An unbiased perspective is probably impossible considering what Leo knows about Derek.”
Vivian tapped her pen against her cheek. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Maybe you should think about the situation from Leo’s point of view,” suggested Sophie. “Maybe his reasons for thinking that Derek is guilty are just as valid as your reasons for thinking that Derek is innocent.”
Reflecting on Sophie’s perspective, Vivian felt convicted of her obtusiveness. Wasn’t she somewhat guilty of the very offense she’d accused her husband of committing? Wasn’t she single-minded in her belief that Derek was innocent of hiring Jones to kill Besi? She was upset with Leo for refusing to look at the evidence objectively, but her husband had examined the evidence. And he’d come to a different conclusion. A conclusion Vivian didn’t agree with, but she had no right to assume that Leo only believed Derek was guilty because of a predisposed prejudice.
“Oh, Sophie, you’re right,” said Vivian, dropping her head in her hands. “I’m such a bad wife. This whole situation has probably been so much more difficult for Leo than I even realized. I need to be supportive and understanding. I need to apologize to my husband.”
Sophie said, “And while you’re apologizing, you could also tell him what I found out.”
Vivian lifted her head from her hands to stare at Sophie. “What did you find out?”
Her eyes alive with excitement, Sophie said, “Officer Fields gave me some off the record information about the Besi Beaumont murder case.”
“What did Fields tell you?”
“A maid at the Flamingo Motel remembers seeing a brunette woman in large sunglasses leaving Aaron Jones’ motel room the day he was killed,” said Sophie.
Vivian thought of the mysterious brunette she’d talked to at the engagement party and seen at the wedding, the woman Detective François believed was Jones’ accomplice.
“And another motel employee, the late night desk clerk, now remembers that he checked the brunette into the motel,” said Sophie. “Apparently, the night Jones checked into the Flamingo Inn, the motel was super busy.”
Vivian nodded. “François told me that. There was also some issue with the motel’s computer system.”
Sophie said, “Right. Anyway, the night clerk remembers that the brunette in sunglasses requested her own room. The clerk gave her room fifteen. Jones had room nine. The clerk didn’t think they were together. Both Jones and the brunette paid cash. The motel usually makes you show a photo ID to rent a room, but she paid for a two-week stay, so the clerk says the owner said it was okay to waive that requirement.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Vivian asked.
Sophie nodded. “The brunette claimed she’d lost her license. However, she did give the clerk her name.”
Vivian said, “So, the police have identified her … “
Removing her phone from her pocket, Sophie swiped the screen with her thumb. “I put her name in my notes … she is … Elizabeth A. Davis.”
33
“Got a second?” asked Vivian, knocking on the door frame.
Glancing up, Leo nodded and beckoned for his wife, standing just outside the threshold into his office, to come inside.
As Vivian closed the door behind her, Leo tapped his phone, ending the call he’d been about to make—a call he wasn’t exactly excited to make and which he didn’t think would be successful, considering that his previous attempts had also failed.
Placing the phone on the mouse pad, he stared at Vivian, trying to gauge her mood.
His wife has been pissed at him for the past few days, since their last conversation, a contentious debate during which he’d declared his unwavering belief in Derek’s guilt. Subsequently, their discussions about Derek and Besi’s murder had been focused on how they would cover the story in the Palmchat Gazette. Dwindling numbers had convinced Burt that the paper couldn’t afford to “catch and kill” the story. The Palmchat Gazette was in a unique position to take advantage of the exclusive information it was privy to.
Leo had been allowed to write first-person accounts from everyone in the wedding party, including Derek, though Burt and the lawyers advised against any direct quotes from Derek.
Vivian had scored an exclusive with Detective François. Her article, which reported that Aaron Jones was the main suspect in Besi’s death, had driven online traffic into the stratosphere. The story had been picked up by news organizations all over the world. As a bonus, online subscriber rates increased, which helped ad rates rebound.
As happy as everyone was about the paper’s recent accomplishments, Leo knew that he and Viv were allowing success to distract them from their differences of opinion about Derek.
The division was still between them, just below the surface, the elephant in the room they ignored and shunned. Unofficially, they’d decided not to talk about their conflict. The hidden strife manifested itself in other ways, however. They found creative ways to avoid accidentally bringing up the dreaded topic—Derek Hennessy. Worse thing was, their sex life was suffering. For the past few days, there’d been too much space between them in the massive king-sized bed.
Viv wanted him to be more objective about Derek, but how could he when the evidence suggested that Derek was guilty?
“What’s up?” asked Leo, hoping that his wife didn’t want to engage in a discussion about Derek.
Bypassing the chairs in front of his desk, Vivian walked around behind the massive slab of mahogany wood and sat on his lap.
Startled by the unexpected affection, Leo was about to question her romantic gesture, which he didn’t mind and enjoyed very much, but Vivian silenced him with a kiss.
A soulful, lingering kiss that was more intimate than erotic, and which Leo savored and couldn’t get enough of and never wanted to end.
Minutes later, she pulled away, smiled and said, “I’m sorry.”
Leo frowned. “For kissing me?”
“For letting three days go by without kissing you,” said Vivian, pressing her lips against the tip of his nose, and his chin, and above both eyebrows. “I’m sorry for thinking that you're stubborn and unyielding about Derek. I’ve accused you of not looking at the evidence objectively and letting your feelings about Derek cloud your judgment. I’m sorry that I haven’t thought about how hard this situation has been for you. I’m sorry I haven’t been more understanding.”
Touched by the sincerity in his wife’s apology, Leo kissed her, and then said, “I’m sorry, too, babe. I haven’t been very willing to see things from your perspective. Honestly, I have been stubborn about my belief in Derek’s guilt. I have been unwilling to consider any other possibility because I don’t know how to wrap my mind around the concept of Derek being innocent. The Derek I know is always guilty. Or, if not completely guilty, then he’s complicit, somehow.”
“Derek’s always been in trouble of his own making,” said Vivian. “I understand that. And I do believe that Derek played a part in this horrible tragedy.”
“You just don’t think he orchestrated the horrible tragedy,” said Leo.
Vivian sighed. “I don’t think I have enough facts, at the moment, to make a definitive decision, either way. But, I have to be open to any possibility—even a possibility that I don’t believe.”
Leo glanced away for a moment, and then said, “Babe, listen, even though I think Derek is guilty, I don’t want to think that. You think I don’t want to look for evidence that Derek is innocent. I’m afraid that I won’t find that evidence if I look for it. I don’t want to get my hopes up. People say, hope for the best, but expect the worse. As if you could prepare
for the worse. You can’t. When the worse happens, it can still destroy you, despite your preparations.”
Vivian’s hand landed on his jaw, and she leaned toward him, resting her forehead against his.
For a moment, Leo pushed away all the conflicted feelings about Derek and Besi’s murder and allowed his wife’s touch, and her nearness, to soothe and settle the inner turmoil that had plagued him.
“I have a proposal,” said Vivian.
“Let’s hear it,” said Leo, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him.
“I think we should be open to any possibility,” said Vivian. “Right now, we don’t know if Derek is guilty or innocent. We have opinions, but let’s put those aside. Let’s concentrate on getting more facts.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Leo. “Before you came in here, I was trying to get some facts.”
Leaning back to stare at him, Vivian asked, “How?”
“I called Skip Taylor to set up a meeting,” said Leo. “Dad keeps hounding me about it, and initially, I resisted, but now I want to hear what Skip has to say.”
“When are you going to meet him?”
Running a hand down the back of his head, Leo said, “I haven’t set up the meeting. I’ve been calling him for the past two days, and he hasn’t returned my calls.”
Vivian frowned. “You think he’s avoiding you?”
“At first, I did,” said Leo. “Then I told Dad, and he called Skip, but Skip didn’t return his calls. Then Derek tried Skip and had no luck. Finally, Dad called Chip Taylor. Chip calls Skip, but the son won’t even pick up the phone for his father.”
“Skip is avoiding everyone,” said Vivian. “Strange.”
Leo shrugged and decided not to bring up his thoughts on the matter—namely that Skip wasn’t returning the calls because Derek had instructed him to go off the grid. Leo didn’t want to risk the rapprochement with his wife by mentioning a theory based on unfounded speculation.
