Death in Her Eyes (A Mac Everett Mystery Book 1)

by Nick Vellis

  “Now I know you’re lying. You don’t have any friends,” Raven spouted. “I’ll need their names.”

  “Sure thing L-T, Roscoe Black, and Sgt. Stan Lee, Stan, Roscoe and I served together in Iraq.”

  I thought Raven was going to have a stroke, I should be so lucky. When he regained his senses, he asked another question.

  “You live downtown. I wouldn’t take you any time to get to the Amway Center. Where’d you go after your buddies left?”

  “About one thirty, I went down to the bar and toasted your good health until closing. I went back up to my place about two thirty and went to sleep until your troll called me. A cab picked me up at about four forty and brought me here. The bartender and about twenty people can vouch for my whereabouts.

  I had a problem. I couldn’t account for my whereabouts between two thirty and four thirty, but Raven didn’t pick up on it. If he did, he didn’t say anything.

  “You own a gun?” Raven asked.

  “A couple,” I responded, “and I have a concealed carry permit too. You want to see any of my property, get a warrant.”

  “Maybe I’ll just do just that,” Raven quipped. “How do you know Wozninek? Was he your client?” Raven asked.

  “Rad Wozninek is, was, not my client. I interviewed him yesterday afternoon about a case. He called me about eight forty-five last night with some information, a couple names.”

  “Who’s your client and what names did Wozninek gave you?” Raven demanded.

  “I decline, in the presence of my attorney, to provide you with the name of my client,” I held up my hand to cut off his protest, “but the names he gave me were Stephanie Hunt and Sharon Greer.”

  Lt. Raven turned the color of the gray linoleum floor. When he spoke, he began with a stutter, “Do … you… mean the Stephanie Hunt who was murdered earlier this month? Is the Wozninek murder connected to the Hunt homicide?”

  Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.

  “L-T, I’m not the brilliant criminal investigator you are, but I think it’s safe to say there could be a connection.”

  Charlie drove me home. We were silent for the first few miles then he asked what he was dying to know, “What the hell are you into Mac? Is this about the Hunt murder?”

  “I don’t know Charlie, but it’s even money there’s a connection. I’m working for Hunt’s sister. I’ve developed enough in the last 24 hours to at least have Hunt released if not get the charges dropped.”

  Charlie blew out a low whistle then said, “That’s dynamite Mac. This is politically sensitive. The Sheriff has taken a personal interest in the Hunt case. You sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “No Charlie, I’m not sure of much of anything right now.”

  Charlie stopped in front of my building. I snapped awake and rubbed my eyes. It had been a long night. As I got out, I notice an occupied car across the street. I leaned in the open car door, and said, “How long can I hide behind client confidentiality Charlie?” I asked trying to grasp what was happening.

  “If you get called in informally again, you can bluff your way along for awhile. Call me before you go down there, by the way. If they get a subpoena ducus tecum or call a grand jury, you’ll have to give up the name of your client. You’ll have to turn over written work product, so you might want to keep that to a minimum. They haven’t got enough probable cause to get a warrant for any weapons you have. Call me when they contact you again. We’ll keep ‘em honest. Be careful Mac.”

  I thanked Charlie and stood motionless on the curb. When he was out of sight, I waved to the figure waiting in the car across the street. Ashton Hunt got out and sprinted over to me.

  “Are you all right?” she said as she approached.

  Before I could answer, she put me into a full body embrace and pressed her lips to mine. We kissed for what seemed an eternity, but it was too short when she pulled away. That definitely woke me up.

  “Hold on there, missy. What’s this all about?” I asked, as I tentatively pushed her away. When I looked in her eyes, it was all too obvious.

  “Where have you been?”

  “I just went in for a friendly talk at the sheriff’s office,” I chuckled.

  “The Sheriff’s Office, what’s going on?” she pleaded.

  “Come on up and I’ll fill you in, but remember, this is a professional visit,” I stammered.

  I wasn’t sure if she believed me or if I believed it myself. I fumbled with the keys, finally opening the street level door. She followed me up stairs and into my office.

  “Want some coffee?” I suggested.

  “Sure, if you’ll join me.”

  I went straight to the coffee pot. I needed a fix. When I had the Mr. Coffee going, I turned to find her examining my vanity wall again.

  “You’re not going to read all that stuff and start emptying the ash trays again, are you,” I snorted.

  “Ah, no. Just…Mac what’s going on,” she blurted out.

  “Quite a lot and if I’m right, it’s all tied together. Your father told you why he originally had called me?”

  She nodded, and said, “Yes.”

  “I’ve a lot to tell you, but I don’t know what it all means. Any conclusions would only be speculation. Here’s what I do know…”

  I laid out what I’d found at the crime scene, the information on the dark Lexus from the busy body with the yippy dog, and the deadly toxin found in Stephanie Hunt’s body. I explained the dope I got at the country club, her sister in-law’s reputation and the insinuation she was involved in gambling along with Greer. Finally, I told her about the murder of Stephanie’s tennis coach, Rad. When I’d finished she stared at me, not in shock or disbelief, but with an overwhelming sadness. I could see the pain in her eyes.

  After a few moments, with glistening eyes, she said, “She cheated and schemed, but she didn’t deserve to die, did she?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t think anyone deserves to die, but sometimes they do. More importantly, I don’t believe your brother killed her.”

  Her body language was off and her eyes were,-well, empty. I should have been suspicious, but I wasn’t thinking with my brain. The other head was trying to take over.

  “My father says I can trust you. Can I trust you Mac?”

  It was more a plea than a question. I knew how I wanted to answer her, but before I could, the phone rang. I looked at my watch- seven thirty, and then at Ashton, who gave me tense smile and a shrug.

  Damn, Roscoe’s checking up on me, I thought. I grabbed the phone off the desk and said, “Can I help you?”

  Ashton sat back in her chair and folded her arms under her breasts. She had a damn good pout.

  “Mr. Everett, this is Sharon Greer. We haven’t met and I know it’s early, but I need to talk to you,” the disembodied voice said.

  “You need to talk now?”

  I looked at Ashton, who gave me a halfhearted smile, and then nodded.

  “Give me just a minute please,” I said.

  “Duck in there,” I said, pointing to my apartment.

  As Ashton got up and headed for my apartment, I tried to remember if I’d made the bed or picked up my dirty underwear, but quickly discarded both thoughts as I wondered what she was doing.

  “What can I do for you, Ms. Greer?” I grumbled.

  I closed the apartment door and bumped into the bookcase as I went to greet her. What could she want, I thought.

  I hit the buzzer to open the street level door and said, “Come on up, Ms. Greer,” into the intercom.

  A few moments later, a woman dressed in charcoal slacks, a blue double-breasted blazer and a light blue blouse open at the collar came through office door. She walked with an exaggerated sway to her hips, as if she were on a fashion runway. She was tall and broad shouldered. She needed those shoulders to carry her Silicone Valley. I could see from the way the twins moved they were implants. The cut of her blazer tapered to her unnaturally slim waist, and then flare
d over her hips, accentuating her womanly curves. Her bleached blond hair, cut in a sort of long pixie, was tussled and spiked on top and framed her oval face. I’m sure she spent a fortune to get her hair to look casual. She reminded me of a taller, younger Dolly Parton.

  “Thank you for seeing me so early and without an appointment,” my guest fretted. “I have a matter of importance to discuss with you.”

  “Sure, Ms. Greer. What can I do for you?” I offered her the client’s chair and went around behind my desk. Before I sat, I remembered my manners and said, “Want some coffee? It’s fresh.”

  “Dr. Greer,” she corrected. “No thank you. I’m in a bit of a rush. Lots to do and little time to do it.”

  “Well, fire away. Oh, hold on I have to cancel another appointment,” I said as a shook a Camel out of the pack.

  “If this isn’t a good time…”

  I waved off her concern as I picked up my phone. I dialed Roscoe’s number. He answered on the first ring. “Let me guess, you’re canceling. Look Mac. You can’t do this half way…”

  “Hey, hold on,” I said. “I have an unexpected client in the office. It sounds like an emergency. Will you let our other partner know? I’ll call you and we can reschedule.”

  “Other partner…oh you mean Stan. Want me to call him?”

  “Please do that,” I said.

  “OK, but you better call me old buddy.”

  “Talk to you later,” I said.

  “I’m sorry Dr. Greer. You have my undivided attention. How did you hear about me,” I said as I took my seat behind the desk. I took a long drag and blew the rough smoke out through my nose then washed it down with some coffee.

  “Oh, I just asked around. You have a good reputation,” she sputtered.

  I chuckled and said, “No offense Dr. Greer, but you’re either a liar or you asked the wrong people. I have anything but a good reputation, but go on,” I laughed. “What can I do for you?”

  “I want to hire you, Mr. Everett. It’s a bodyguard position, I know it’s not your usual line, but I can pay handsomely. You would provide security for me.”

  “No, that’s not my line, and besides, I’m very busy right now. I could recommend someone…”

  Greer held up her hand to stop me and broke in, “I understand you have been asking questions about me. I can offer you a generous salary and $10,000 as a sign on bonus.”

  Greer had my attention now. It never hurt to have a slightly bad reputation. What worried me though was I thought she was broke, up to her neck in gambling debts and out of a job.

  “But if you’re too busy…”

  “I didn’t say too busy, just…busy. Who do I have to kill?”

  “Nothing like that,” she laughed, “If you’re interested come by my home later today. I’ll lay it all out for you.”

  “I have a few questions…”

  “We can talk about that later. For now…”

  I was about to insist on asking my questions when my desk phone rang. The caller ID said it was Stan Lee. Roscoe had come through. I wanted him to know I was talking to a woman who could be a suspect in two murders.

  “Excuse me, Dr. Greer. I need to take this call.”

  Before Greer could object, I snatched the phone, pressed the talk button, and said, “Master Sergeant Lee, good of you to call.”

  I hoped addressing him by his military rank would clue Stan in something was screwy.

  “You SOB what’ve you gotten me into? You have the nerve to ask Roscoe to call me! I’m supposed to report to the Major’s office with the Hunt case file as soon as I get…Master Sergeant, what’s the matter with you?” There was a pause, and then he got it. “You’re not alone and there’s a problem.”

  “That’s right Sergeant,” I boomed. “I was called in for questioning early this morning and I’m not interested in coming back.”

  “Is it the suspect you named? Is it Greer?” Stan asked. He was quick.

  “Yes Master Sergeant, that’s right, that’s right.”

  “Greer is in your office? Are you OK?”

  “Correct on both counts Sergeant, but unless you’re going to arrest me, I suggest you piss off.”

  “Can you keep her there long enough for us to get a tail on her, ten minutes at the outside?”

  “Sure thing Sergeant, now will you leave me the hell alone? Bye,” I chortled as I ended the call.

  Greer’s face had frozen into a grimace while I was on the phone. She was worried, and guilty people are worriers.

  “Sorry about that Dr. Greer. The cops pulled me in early this morning.”

  “What about?”

  “Oh nothing much, just a murder,” I said.

  “What did they want with you?”

  Her reaction was not what I’d expected. She turned pale and then I saw a name cross her lips. Rad.

  “It seems they found a murdered man with one of my business cards in his pocket. They were anxious to talk to me.” I groaned. “Do you want twenty-four hour coverage? What sort of problem are you having? Do you have security at your home?” I asked.

  She tried not to react, but a twitch of her upper lip told me she was hiding something.

  “I have a home security system,” she stuttered, “that’s not the problem,” Greer mused. “I want personal protection. Are you interested?”

  “Oh, I’m interested, but like I said, I’m busy with other cases. I can get some people for you, but as for being there myself…”

  Greer held up her hand, “I want you.”

  “I’d like to look over your place before I say yes.” I insisted.

  Greer hesitated. I could see her thoughts, almost hear her mind working, and then she said, “I’m quite busy today. I’ll call you later. Can you meet me at my home this evening?”

  “Sure,” I said, “if you think it can wait that long.”

  “Thank you Mr. Everett,” she said handing me a business card. “I’ll bid you good day and end my intrusion,” she said as she rose to leave.

  “Right, but I’ll see you later,” I said.

  “I’ll call you this afternoon to confirm a time. The address is on the card.”

  I stubbed out my cigarette as I got up from the desk and shook her hand as I rounded the corner. I was sure I was in the presence of a killer. Now all I had to do was prove it. I handed her a business card and she was gone.

  I watched Greer go down the stairs. I bounded to the front window. I saw her get into a black Escalade and watched it pull away. I made sure the street door was locked before I raced back up the stairs to call Stan. He answered on the first ring.

  “I’m afraid I wasn’t able to keep her very long,” I confessed.

  “No problem. We have a team in the area. They should be able to pick her up. What’s she driving?” he asked.

  “A black Escalade with Florida plates, you can’t miss her,” I said. “She wants to hire me as body guard.”

  “She must be three kinds of stupid if she wants to hire you,” Stan joked.

  “I love you too,” I replied.

  “Did she say how she found you?” Stan asked.

  “She heard I was asking questions. I assume she wants me out of play. A job would be just the thing.”

  The thought made me think of the fat check I’d gotten from General Hunt.

  “Or she could have seen you with the tennis pro,” Stan offered.

  “Or that,” I agreed. “I had to tell her I got pulled in about that.”

  I filled Stan in on my meeting and the arrangements I’d made for later in the day. I promised I’d to stay in touch and said good-bye. I’d been banging away on the computer for a while when the phone rang.

  “Everett,” I said as I picked up the phone.

  “Did you forget you had a guest?” Ashton said slowly.

  “Ashton, I’m sorry. I forgot all about you,” I confessed. “It’s safe to…”

  “A girl doesn’t like to be forgotten, you know,” she said in a coy buttery way.
“You owe me an apology.”

  “I’m so sorry. I got working and …”

  “No you don’t understand. Come on over to your bedroom.”

  I looked at the phone as though it had lied to me.

  “Ah, yes, ma’am,” I stuttered.

  I grabbed my coffee and went through to the apartment.

  “Ashton,” I called, but I didn’t see her. I stepped into the bedroom and dropped my cup and my jaw. Ashton was reclined on her side in the middle of my bed. The outline of her bikini tan glowed in the soft morning light. Her body was smooth and taught. Her flat stomach accentuated her full breasts. A golden halo of hair encircled her head. She wore only that fabulous smile.

  “Don’t just stand there Mac. You’re going to have to work hard on that apology,” she said.

  Chapter 7

  I stood bug-eyed and speechless gawking at her.

  “Ah, Ashton,” I stammered.

  “Don’t you like what you see?” she purred as she ran a hand along her body, “or do you often have this sort of surprise?”

  Ah, no, yes…ah, Ashton you…you look fantastic. I wasn’t expecting…”

  “You want me, don’t you? I want you,” she purred. Her fingertips brushed over her breasts.

  “I…want…you, but…ah…I can’t do this…I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

  I couldn’t believe what was coming out of my mouth and neither could Ashton. Her face fell.

  “Is there something wrong with me?”

  “No, no, nothing like that.”

  “You don’t like girls?” she said as she covered herself with the sheet. “This is the first time I’ve ever gotten this reaction.”

  I wondered how many times she’d turned up unexpected in some guy’s bed, but let the thought die a natural death.

  “Hell no…I mean yes I like…”

  “You like women, just not me. You don’t do much for a girl’s self-esteem.”

  “Your father...the case…ah it just wouldn’t be…”