“Speaking of, I should go meet Mitchell and Officer O’Reilly at the station.” I reach for my car keys and see all the notifications on my phone screen. Mitchell called twice and texted five times. I have no doubt he also called Dad when he couldn’t get a hold of me, which means they both know I lied to them.
“FYI, I think they’re on to us. You better get home before Dad gets suspicious.”
Mom waves her hand. “He knows I had errands to run, and besides, I bought this adorable mermaid for the mantel.” She removes it from the bag and holds it up for me to see. “The key is in the details, Piper. Always perfect your alibi ahead of time.”
I laugh. “I have so much to learn from you.”
After Mom and I part ways, I dial Mitchell.
“Where have you been?” he asks.
“Finding leads for us. I think Eugene Spicer might have left that note on Nathan’s door Monday morning.”
“Did you have another vision?”
I start my Mazda. “No, and I’m not sure if it came to me as a truth or not. It was all a little confusing. Where are you now? I’m just getting into my car.”
“O’Reilly and I are headed to the Vacation Villa. That’s where Eugene Spicer is staying while in town.”
“I’ll meet you there.” I throw the name of the hotel into my GPS since it’s not one I’m familiar with.
“Piper, this conversation isn’t over. I know you were up to something this morning.”
“I’m about to go through a dead zone, Mitchell. I’ll see you soon.” I use the Bluetooth on my steering wheel to end the call. I didn’t lie to him. There is a small stretch of road that has terrible service, and I do have to cross it to get to my destination.
The Vacation Villa is actually a very pretty hotel. The building itself is a very beachy color, which is odd since there’s no beach. The only beaches we have are by the Delaware River, and the hotel is at least twenty-five minutes away from there. The front of the hotel has large archways and a giant circular driveway. I pull into a spot as if I’m renting a room. I don’t feel like paying for valet parking when I’m only planning to be here for a short time.
Mitchell is standing at the front door with Officer O’Reilly. He has two coffees in his hands, both with logos from Marcia’s Nook. So, he didn’t call Dad to track me down. He physically went to my office. Just great.
“For me?” I ask, reaching for the coffee cup.
He hands me the cup and gives me a quick kiss. “You’ve already had coffee.”
“It was bad coffee,” I say, immediately taking a sip of my beloved toasted almond.
Mitchell’s jaw clenches. I know the only reason he’s holding it together is because Officer O’Reilly is watching us.
“Have you been inside yet?” I ask her.
“No, Detective Brennan insisted on waiting for you. Good morning, Piper.”
“Good morning. Thanks for waiting. I don’t know if Mitchell told you, but I think Eugene Spicer—”
“Left the note for Nathan Monday morning. Yes, he filled me in.”
“Good. Then we’re all on the same page.”
Mitchell opens the door and motions for Officer O’Reilly to go inside. “You and I are having a long conversation later,” he whispers to me.
“About how wonderful I am?” I ask.
“Don’t use my own lines against me. I’m the one who makes the smart-ass comments.”
I level him with a look. “You make the ridiculously cheesy comments. I make the smart-ass comments.”
He shakes his head as we approach the concierge desk. Mitchell flashes his badge. “I’m Detective Brennan with the WPD. This is Officer O’Reilly and Piper Ashwell. We need to speak with one of your guests, a Eugene Spicer.”
The young woman at the desk types something into her computer. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Spicer checked out early this morning.”
Mitchell and I exchange a look. This could absolutely mean I’m correct about the note and Eugene being the killer. But the problem is we have no idea where he might have gone.
Chapter Eight
Officer O’Reilly steps up to the desk. “I’m assuming you keep information about your guests’ vehicles on file. Make, model, and license plate number.”
“Well, yes, but I’m not allowed to give out that information,” the woman says. “I could lose my job. Unless you have a warrant,” she adds.
We don’t have enough evidence to merit getting a warrant. We’re going to have to track down Eugene another way. “Can you tell us what time he checked out?” I ask.
“Um, it looks like about thirty minutes ago.”
So basically right after I spoke to Marissa. Did she call him? Maybe to question him about the note, and he ran? I guess I have to come clean to Mitchell now, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to do that in front of Officer O’Reilly. She’s too “by the book” to let my disregard for proper police procedures slide.
“Mitchell, can I speak with you for a moment?” I ask.
He gives me a “what did you do?” look before telling Officer O’Reilly to call the station and find out what kind of vehicle Eugene Spicer drives so they can put out a BOLO for it. He motions for me to head back outside so we can talk in private. “All right, tell me what’s going on.”
“Mom and I met with Marissa Trevino this morning.”
“You dragged your mom into this?” He throws a hand in the air. “Wait. That’s why you two took so long in the kitchen last night when you were getting dessert. You planned all this.”
I bob one shoulder. “I figured my mom would be the perfect person to talk to Marissa. You know, mother to mother.”
“And?”
“And it turns out, Marissa isn’t sure if Nathan or Eugene killed Tony. I think she believes it could have been either one of them.”
“Are you clearing Marissa as a suspect?” he asks me.
“I don’t believe she did this. I think she was upset about the affair and Tony divorcing her, but not enough to murder him to keep it from happening. I don’t think the same can be said for Eugene or Nathan. She wants to protect Nathan, which I expected.”
“Hence you brought your mother along.”
“Yes. I tried to back Marissa into a corner by admitting how my childhood was cut short when Dad brought me on the Belinda Maxwell case.”
“I see.” Mitchell drags a hand through his hair. “You know this means she’ll have a bias against your father now if he comes with us to talk to her in the future.”
It’s possible I didn’t stop to consider that. “We can deal with that if and when it comes up. For now, we have three possible suspects.”
“Three?” Mitchell crosses his arms. “What else did you find out?”
“Marissa said the woman Tony was having the affair with was married. She thinks the woman’s husband might have discovered the affair as well.”
“But we still have no clue who that woman is?”
“None.” Without Eugene Spicer to talk to, our best bet is for me to find out who Tony Trevino was having an affair with. The problem is nothing in his room peaked my senses. But would it? This woman probably never came to the house or the farm. Marissa might have known about the affair, but I don’t think Tony would go so far as to throw it in her face. That leaves his truck. Something in there may give me a lead on where Tony met this other woman.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Mitchell asks.
I finish the coffee Mitchell bought me and toss the empty cup into the trash can outside. “We need to go see Tony Trevino’s truck.”
Officer O’Reilly comes walking out of the hotel. “Officer Wallace is going to call us with the vehicle description as soon as possible. The problem is that Eugene Spicer most likely flew to Weltunkin and is renting a car.”
“Then I’ll have my dad try to find out for sure and track down who he rented the car from,” I say.
“No need. Wallace is on that, too,” Officer O’Reilly says.
“Our concern is that he’ll dump the car or that he’s already on his way back across the country.”
If he’s guilty of murder, he wouldn’t stick around. But if he’s not, or if he has another reason for not having left yet… “He’s supposed to meet up with Marissa tonight for dinner.”
“Then we’ll be there, too,” Mitchell says.
Officer O’Reilly follows us back to the Trevino Farm, and we drop my car off at home on the way. I call Marissa on the way and explain that we’d like to see Tony’s truck so I can figure out who his mistress was. She’s totally okay with that, and when we pull into the driveway, she’s waiting for us with his keys in hand.
“Look around all you’d like. I’d love to know who this woman is as well. Tony and I might not have had the best marriage, but she has some nerve wrecking two families the way she did.”
Officer O’Reilly tries to take the keys, but Mitchell stops her. “Piper should be the only one to touch them,” he says.
“Actually, no one should touch them. We should be using gloves.” Officer O’Reilly pulls a pair out of her pocket and puts them on.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible for me,” I say, taking the keys in my left hand so I don’t have a vision until I’m ready to.
“Brennan.” It’s the first time she hasn’t called him Detective Brennan. She’s making a statement with her lack of respect.
Mitchell ignores her and walks with me to the truck. “I’ll take care of her. Just do what you need to do,” he tells me.
I decide it’s best to sit in the driver’s seat with my hands on both the keys and the steering wheel to increase my odds of seeing what I need to. I open the driver’s side door and step up into the truck. It’s not one of those giant trucks you have trouble getting into. It’s a moderate size and in decent condition. The seats are leather but worn from years of use. That makes sense considering Tony used this truck for his electrical jobs.
Yes.
That’s odd. Why would my senses zero in on something I already know? I’m trying to focus on the woman he had the affair with, not one of his electrical clients.
Same.
“Whoa,” I say aloud.
“What is it?” Mitchell asks.
“Did you find something?” Officer O’Reilly is trying to peer around Mitchell to see what I’m doing.
“I think this woman is also a client of his. At least, that’s what my senses are picking up on.”
“Did you find invoices or something in there?” Officer O’Reilly asks.
“No. I haven’t found anything. It’s just what I picked up on while sitting here.” She won’t understand that at all, but it’s the truth.
“Detective Brennan, I mean no disrespect, but this isn’t okay. She’s touching evidence and spouting theories. This isn’t police work. I get that her deductive reasoning is sound in most cases, but this is going too far. Does the chief know she does this sort of stuff?”
“Feel free to call him and ask for yourself,” Mitchell says. “Chief Johansen is well aware of what Piper does and how she does it. He hired her to consult with us. If you have a problem with it, I suggest you take it up with him.” He never once turned to face her while he spoke.
She takes a step back. “I think it’s best if I head to the station and see what Officer Wallace has found out. He might need my help.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Mitchell says.
Officer O’Reilly lowers her head, and I can’t help feeling bad even though it’s me and my abilities she’s questioning. I watch her get into her patrol car and back out of the driveway.
“You didn’t have to dismiss her,” I tell Mitchell.
“I didn’t. It was her idea. If anything, she dismissed herself. Let’s forget about her and get back to reading this truck. When she sees you found something concrete, she’ll stop questioning you.”
Normally, I get really bothered when people reject what I do, but I don’t want Mitchell to dislike his new colleague because of me. If Chief Johansen thinks Mitchell’s become too difficult to work with, it could affect Mitchell’s position at the station.
This isn’t the time to worry about that, though. I take three deep breaths and clear my mind. Then I transfer the keys to my right hand while also resting my hand on the steering wheel.
“We need to find another way to meet. Your husband is going to get suspicious if all these electrical issues keep popping up.”
“I’ll handle him. Just hurry up and get here already. I miss you,” the woman’s voice comes through the Bluetooth in the truck.
The vision ends, and I open my eyes. This isn’t good at all. All I’ve discovered is the woman was a repeat client. I’m going to have to search his records for his electrical business to find her, which is only going to make Officer O’Reilly think I’m theorizing again.
I hand the keys to Mitchell. “I didn’t get much. She’s a client. We’ll have to search his books and hope this woman’s name pops out at me.”
“That’s not a problem. You know her name will stand out.” He reaches for me and rubs my arm. “This is still a lead we can follow. Don’t look so defeated.” He helps me out of the truck and puts on a glove. “I want to search the truck. There might be evidence in it somewhere.”
I nod because while my visions do give us a lot to go on that we wouldn’t otherwise see, you also can’t deny hard evidence. And that’s where Mitchell excels.
He hops up into the truck and opens the middle console. “It’s only gas station receipts. All for the same place.”
“He had one of those gas cards for the station in front of Saves-A-Lot,” Marissa says, startling me. I’d almost forgotten she was there, and I’m a little embarrassed she witnessed the exchange between Officer O’Reilly, Mitchell, and me.
Mitchell continues to search, moving on to the glove compartment. “Looks like an appointment book,” he says, pulling it out and extending it to me.
I don’t take it right away because I’m standing in the driveway, and who knows what I’ll see if I read that book? It’s too risky to have a vision like that without properly preparing. “Move over,” I tell him.
He climbs into the passenger seat, and I get back in the driver’s seat. Once I’m ready, I take the appointment book from him. I let my senses guide me to the correct page to read. I flip through the book and stop on a week in mid-February. My eyes close.
“I’ll be there soon. I couldn’t buy you flowers or anything. I’m pretty sure your husband would think it was odd for your electrician to bring you flowers.”
The woman laughs. “Yes, he would. I’m just glad he’s out of town tonight. I can’t wait to see you.”
“I love you.”
I open my eyes and stare at the appointment book. There is nothing written for the week. Not a single name. I get out of the truck, and Mitchell follows.
“Mrs. Trevino, did your husband always write down his appointments in this book?”
“When he remembered to,” she says. “I bought that for him because he missed a few appointments, and some clients got upset.”
“Do you know where he kept his invoices?” I really don’t want to have to read through them all, but it might be our only option at this point since my vision didn’t give me anything concrete. Or did it? He mentioned not being able to bring her flowers, and Valentine’s Day was during the week I had the appointment book open to. Was he seeing her on Valentine’s Day?
Mrs. Trevino is heading back toward the house. Mitchell puts his hand on the small of my back as we follow her. “Are you okay?” he asks me. “What did you see?”
“Not much of anything, but he met with her on Valentine’s Day. We need to find an invoice with that date on it.”
Mitchell nods. “Marissa is bringing us to Tony’s home office to search the invoices now.”
As we walk into the house, I spot Nathan coming out of his house on the property. He doesn’t look happy to see Mitchell and me here.
Marissa brings us inside the house and to a small room off the garage. It looks like it’s meant to be a mud room, but it’s been converted into a small office. There’s a filing cabinet and a desk.
“Tony didn’t do much work in here. Just balanced his books and filed his paperwork. I know it’s cramped.”
“And we have your permission to search the filing cabinet?” Mitchell asks.
“Yes. I want to know who this woman is as much as you do. Maybe more. She ruined my marriage.”
“How long ago did you and your husband start sleeping in separate rooms?” I ask.
“It’s been about a year. We’ve had our share of problems.”
“Is that when the affair began? A year ago?” Mitchell asks.
Marissa bobs her shoulders. “I can’t say for sure. It could have been longer than that. Tony didn’t mention anyone in particular when I asked why he was suddenly insistent we get a divorce.”
“Do you think he had plans to marry this woman?” It’s possible she was getting a divorce as well.
“Your guess is as good as mine. I thought I knew him, but now… I think he had his fair share of secrets.”
“You don’t need to stay here while we search,” Mitchell says. “I’m sure this can’t be easy for you. Feel free to go have a cup of tea or something.”
“Thank you.” She turns on her heel and walks out without another word.
I step toward the filing cabinet, which has two drawers. I hold out my right hand and hope my senses will guide me to what I’m looking for, but I don’t feel drawn to either drawer.
“What if Tony was friends with these people?” I ask.
“Fact?”
I shake my head. “I was just trying to figure out why I had a vision about Tony doing electrical work for this woman yet not having her in his day planner.”
“Marissa said he wasn’t good about writing things down. Let’s try to find an invoice for a job completed on Valentine’s Day.”
“That was a different vision. It’s possible he was going to see her that night because her husband was out of town, not because he was doing a job. That would mean there is no invoice for that date.”
Fight Fire with Foresight (Piper Ashwell Psychic P.I. Book 12) Page 7
