“You're done already? That's fantastic.” I gave him a congratulatory hug. “No wonder you're so happy.”
“And now, we have the rest of our time in Florida to do stuff together. I was thinking, maybe tomorrow we could rent some jet skis. Or go sailing for the day. Anyway, let me get dressed, then we can have some wine and talk about it.”
“Actually.” I bit my lip and could see his smile fading away. My heart ached at the thought of disappointing him. “Carter and I need to meet with Brook in a few minutes. It's kind of important. It shouldn't take very long.”
He regarded me curiously. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything's fine.”
He seemed unsure. “No problem. Maybe I'll research online about outdoor activities we could do tomorrow till you get back.”
I went over, caressed his face, and kissed his lips again. “You're the best. I'll be back real soon.”
“Sure. Tell Carter I said hi.”
* * *
When Brook invited us into the penthouse, I introduced her to Carter.
Carter smiled. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Foster.”
“Please call me Brook. Would either of you care for a drink?”
“We're fine,” I said, not wanting to prolong the meeting. “But thanks.”
“Well,” she said, pouring herself a glass of wine. “It's been quite an emotional day. Dennis was cremated this afternoon.”
“I'm sorry. Must be difficult for you,” I said, not wanting to waste precious time with platitudes.
“Well,” she said. “I suppose you want to discuss the reason I asked you to come here. Can I trust both of you to keep this as quiet as possible?”
“Yes,” I said. “But please understand, in the course of our investigation, there's a chance we might inadvertently expose your affair. If you're not prepared for that, then maybe we shouldn't go any further with this.”
Brook mashed her lips together, a confounded expression on her face. “Okay.” She walked over to the sliding doors leading to the balcony and stared out to the ocean. She sighed heavily and eventually turned to face us. “I suppose I should start by telling you that I'm bisexual.”
Carter and I exchanged a look, but neither of us responded to her confession.
She took a few deep breaths as if summoning courage. “The person I was having an affair with was Vivian.”
I thought she was joking. “Excuse me?” I said.
“You heard me correctly,” she said with a bemused smile. “I was having an affair with my husband's secretary.”
I didn't know what to say.
Carter clapped his hands together. “Well, I have to say, this is a new one for me.”
Brook laughed lightheartedly. “I suppose you didn't see that coming. I didn't want to tell you because, well, it wasn't because I was embarrassed. It's because Vivian's husband Roy is a real douchebag. If he ever found out about us, he might hurt her. He's been violent towards her before. I've tried to talk her into leaving him, but she's too afraid.”
“Did you tell her about the letter and the money demand?” I asked.
Brook shook her head. “No. I didn't want her to worry about it. And I guess I didn't want her to stop seeing me, either. ”
I raised an eyebrow. “You're still seeing her?”
“Well, not since a month ago. We haven't had a chance to get together because Dennis hasn't gone out of town in the past month.”
“How many times have you seen each other?” Carter asked.
“Only three times. Like I said before, we were very careful. She was overly paranoid about Roy finding out.”
I pictured Roy at the dinner party, coming on to me with his cheesy compliments. Sure, he was kind of a scumbag, but I couldn't picture him hurting his wife. However, I didn't trust my judgment; I'd been wrong about that before. “What time does Vivian usually leave the office?”
“She's usually gone by five-thirty, why?”
“We should speak to her,” I said.
She gave me a stern look. “I told you, I don't want her to know about any of this.”
“How do you know that she wasn't also blackmailed? Maybe she got the same letter in the mail with a demand for money, just like you did.”
Brook swallowed hard. “But she doesn't have money to give. She and Roy are over-extended on their house and they owe thousands in credit card bills.”
“But the blackmailer might not know that,” I said calmly. “Think about it.”
Brook took a moment, massaging her temple as if it was the hardest decision she'd ever have to make. Finally, she exhaled with a groan. “Okay, you can talk to her. But … please, don't get her freaked out.”
“You really seem to care about her,” I said. “Did Dennis have any clue that you liked women?”
“I never told him.” Brook took a sip of wine with a sheepish smile. “He wasn't open minded. Most guys find it hot, but Dennis was old-fashioned.”
“Who else knew about the affair?” Carter asked. “Did you tell anyone? Did Vivian?”
Brook hung her head, staring at the floor. “No. I told nobody, and Vivian wouldn't either. I've been with women before. Vivian never had. I was her first. We had an instant connection that's hard to explain.” Her face turned a light shade of red. “The first time, it just sort of happened at the office late one night. I stopped in to see Dennis, but Vivian told me he was in Fort Lauderdale having a meeting with a client. She was just getting off work, so I invited her out for a drink. Nothing happened that night, but it was pretty obvious there was something between us. The second time, I invited her to go on a spa weekend with me. And the third and fourth time, the office. There's an empty room used for storage. Not so romantic, but I guess we didn't care.”
Carter cleared his throat as if he were feeling slightly uncomfortable. “Look, um, we can't find any hard proof that Angela is involved in the blackmail. I found a credit card receipt at her apartment that proves she was in Orlando around the time of the money drop. Plus, where's the cash? Did she spend it all? If so, what did she spend it on?”
Brook put her hands up in exasperation. “How the hell do I know? That's why I hired you guys. You must have figured something out by now.”
“There's one other possibility,” I said. “Carter found out that Angela has been involved in some volunteer work at the Delray Beach Community Center. Do you know anything about that?”
“No. What does she do there?”
“She's a volunteer facilitator for a non-profit organization called GriefShare. In fact, it looks like she spends three or four days a week at the center and travels to other cities around the state to help with fundraising for the program. We were thinking of approaching the woman who runs the group; her name is Glenda White.”
Brook seemed confused. “What are you thinking?”
“Well, it just occurred to me. Assuming that Angela is the blackmailer, maybe she took the hundred grand and donated it to this GriefShare program.”
A harsh laugh escaped from Brook as she shook her head. “You've got to be kidding me. Why would she do that?”
“You told me yourself that Angela was having a hard time dealing with her mother's death. It's not a stretch to think she might seek the comfort of a grief support group. Maybe she really found it helpful and wanted to give back by donating her time and money.”
Brook rolled her eyes. “That's not something Angela would do, believe me.”
“Or maybe you just don't want to believe it true,” I replied curtly. “But perhaps we'll find out when I go to talk with Glenda White tomorrow morning. If I can get her to admit that their organization received a large donation recently, in the amount of a hundred thousand dollars, we may have our answer.”
“Fine.” Brook made a flicking motion with her hand. “Does this mean you won't have to talk to Vivian?”
“No, I still want to talk to her.” I checked my watch then looked at Carter. “If we go now, we still might catch her
before she leaves the office.”
I told Brook that we'd be in touch soon.
As Carter and I got into the elevator, I sent Max a quick text, letting him know I'd be a little later than expected. I felt like shit making him wait, but he'd understand.
Chapter 14
Vivian was bent over a filing cabinet and looked up when she heard our footsteps. There was confusion in her eyes as she said, “Oh, good evening, Ms. Woods.”
“Hi Vivian,” I said. “I'm glad we caught you before you left for the day. Do you have a few minutes?”
She closed the filing cabinet drawer and stood up while straightening her skirt. “Sure. How can I help you?”
“Is anyone else here?” I asked.
“Well,” she said, hesitantly. “Andrew left a few minutes ago, so it's just me.”
“Good, can we all sit? This is Carter, by the way.”
She gave him a polite nod, but didn't make a move to shake his hand. “We can go into the conference room if you like.”
Carter and I followed her down the hall and into the room. She invited us to have a seat at the table and she chose a seat across from us.
I tried to offer her a reassuring smile. “I know you're probably wondering what this is all about, so I'll just cut to the chase. Brook has hired us to look into a personal matter, and I'm afraid it involves you.”
The pleasant smile evaporated from her face. “Me? What's this about?”
“Your affair with Brook.”
She paled. “What do you mean?”
“Don't worry. Carter and I won't breathe a word of this to anyone, but we need your help.”
She squirmed in her seat and diverted her eyes. “Help with what?”
“I assume you've met Angela Foster, Dennis's daughter.”
She nodded. “Of course, many times. What does she have to do with anything?”
“Has she gotten in touch with you recently for any reason?”
“No. Last time I saw her was … I don't know, a few months ago. She came here to the office to see her dad. They talked for a while, then she left. She barely looked at me.”
“Was this before or after the last time you and Brook were here alone?” I asked.
Vivian fidgeted with a loose piece of yarn on her blouse, avoiding eye contact at all costs. “I can't really remember.” She looked up and blinked at us, her eyes getting moist. “Who else knows about me and Brook? Who have you been talking to?”
“I'm going to level with you.” I took a deep breath and let it out. “Someone sent Brook a letter in the mail with a photo, and threatened to show Dennis unless she paid a hundred thousand dollars in cash.”
Vivian blinked wildly, clearly stunned by the news. “No.”
“Brook paid the money,” I said, “but now she's hired me and Carter to find out who was behind it. So if you know of anyone … anyone you might have told, anyone who could have a key to let themselves into this office after hours, we need to know.”
Vivian hands were shaking as she quickly shook her head. “No. Why would I tell anyone? If Mr. Foster found out, he'd fire me. And my husband, he'd … I honestly don't know what he'd do. You're not going to tell him, are you?”
“Roy doesn't need to know about this,” I said. “And I don't want to get you in trouble.”
Vivian let out a sigh of relief. “So what happens now?”
“Well,” I said. “Other than Angela, we have no other leads. Is there anyone else you can think of, who could have been here at the office the last time you and Brook were together?”
She chewed a thumbnail as she stared at the table. Finally, she shook her head. “I can't think of anyone else. My boss was out of town and Andrew went with him. Who else would it be?” Vivian pushed her chair back, preparing to get up from the desk. She glanced nervously at her watch. “My husband is expecting me home soon. I'd better go.”
“Thanks for talking to us.” I reached into my purse for my business card. “Can I give you my number, in case you remember anything about that night?”
“Well … I suppose.”
* * *
It was almost six when we left Vivian. I immediately got on my cell phone to text Max that I was finally on my way back to the room.
Carter rubbed his stomach. “I could go for a burger and a beer. Think I'll head downstairs to the restaurant. Guess you have plans with Max?”
“Yeah, he's waiting for me, so I better hustle.” I paused. “I'd invite you to join us for dinner, but I think Max has something planned just for us.”
He waved a hand. “Don't worry about me. I can fend for myself.”
“So I'll see you tomorrow?”
“Yep. Tomorrow.”
When I got back to the room, I was greeted by utter silence. The bottle of wine and the glasses were still on the table waiting, but Max was gone. He had not left a note.
I checked my phone. No calls or texts. I tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail.
Perhaps he had just stepped out to get something. Surely, he'd be back soon. I decided to take a shower and get ready for dinner.
When I emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, still no Max.
I did my hair and make-up. I got dressed. I started to feel the panic rise in my chest as twenty more minutes passed.
Was he pissed because I'd taken longer than expected? No way. Max didn't play games. If he was upset, he'd send a text to let me know he was upset.
But there was no communication whatsoever.
By six-thirty, I had already chewed off most of my fingernails. I tried calling him again, but got the same result. I sent him yet another text.
When seven rolled around, I started to get really worried. Maybe Max had gone out for a walk, got hit by a car or something. My imagination started to leap off the charts. What the hell had happened to him?
I was going stir crazy. I decided to go down to the restaurant and see if Carter was still around. Maybe he'd have some ideas.
Chapter 15
“Come on,” Carter gestured to an empty bar stool. “Have a drink and relax. Max is gonna call you back any minute.”
“You're right.” I sat next to Carter at the bar. He ordered another draft beer for himself and a margarita for me.
The restaurant seemed to be pretty dead for a Friday night. Jazz music played softly in the background and it had a calming effect on me, which I really needed.
“You think maybe he's with Jennifer?” Carter asked.
“Why would he be with her when he'd promised me a romantic night out?”
The bartender set our drinks on the bar. Carter took a slug from his mug and let out a satisfied sigh while wiping foam from his lip. “I have to say, I don't trust the client.”
I looked at him and blinked. “Why? You think Brook is lying to us for some reason?”
He shrugged. “Something's not right about her. And it's not because she's a gold digger or a bisexual, or because she had an affair … it's something else.”
I usually trusted Carter's instincts, so I wanted to hear more. “Does it have to do with Dennis's death?”
He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “What are the chances that he'd have a heart attack during a dinner party with a bunch of people?”
I had to admit, the thought had occurred to me, too. “If you'd seen the way Dennis ate and smoked that evening, you wouldn't be all that surprised. Plus, he had high blood pressure. Even Andrew saw it coming.”
“Was there an autopsy?”
“They usually only perform autopsy's when there's suspicion of foul play.”
As Carter sipped his beer, I knew the wheels were turning.
“You're right. With Dennis's lifestyle, nobody would assume foul play,” he said. “Pretty convenient.”
Where was he going with this? I leaned in closer and lowered my voice. “Are you saying that someone could have poisoned him, with the intent to induce a heart attack?”
“It's possible. But it's
too late to find out now. Brook wasted no time having her husband's body cremated.” Carter turned to look me squarely in the eyes. “Was Dennis on meds for his high blood pressure?”
“I'd imagine so.” I paused to consider the implications. “You think Brook tampered with his pills?”
“She could have substituted his meds for ibuprofen or Tylenol, or some other benign pain medication that could have reacted poorly with his condition.”
“Why would Brook take the risk? All she'd have to do was wait a little longer and Dennis probably would have died in a few years anyway.”
Carter chuckled and downed the rest of his beer. “Like I said, doesn't matter at this point. We can't prove anything. And, hell, she is our client, after all.”
Yeah,” I replied. “But it's not like we're her lawyers. If she's committed a crime, don't you think we should do the right thing and tell the police? They could open an investigation.”
He shook his head. “Trust me, unless someone comes forward as a witness, claiming they saw Brook do something … no. Look, maybe I'm way off base. Maybe Brook had nothing to do with his death.”
I didn't know what to think. I had only known Brook a few days, so how could I make any assumptions. Sure, it seemed obvious that she had married Dennis for his money, but that didn’t make her a murderer. Still, Carter wouldn’t have mentioned it if he hadn’t already given it some thought.
“Do you want to order some food?” Carter asked, breaking my concentration.
My insides were still doing flip-flops over Max's disappearing act, and the last thing I needed was a greasy meal to make it worse. “No thanks. I'm fine.”
“Do you have Jennifer's number?” he asked nonchalantly.
I gaped at him. “No, why?”
“Look up her phone number and address on the internet.” He slipped his phone out of his back pocket. “Never mind, I'll do it for you.”
I swallowed hard, feeling my pulse quicken. “I'm not going to call her. And I'm certainly not going to show up at her house.”
After a minute or two of punching buttons on his cell phone, Carter smiled. “Ah, here it is. Jennifer Healy, number thirteen, Queen Street. Looks like it's only five blocks away. And here's her number, too.”
Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 3) Page 7
