Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 3)

by Jennifer L. Jennings

  “Do you have any friends or relatives who have that kind of money to donate?”

  “No. I guess I don’t. It was probably just a Good Samaritan. Why does it matter?”

  “Because the timing is interesting.”

  All of a sudden, Raul clutched his abdomen, squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  He nodded. “I’m fine. I get these cramps once in a while. Just a side effect of the new drug.”

  I noticed there were beads of sweat on his forehead. I went to the sink, grabbed a paper towel, and doused it with cold water. I handed it to him.

  “Thanks,” he said, wiping his face.

  “Do you want me to stay until your brother comes back from the store?”

  “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”

  The nurturing mother in me wanted to dote on this poor guy. Tuck him into bed and make him a bowl of soup. But I was not his mother. He was probably embarrassed and would rather I leave as soon as possible.

  “I’m sorry for everything you’ve had to go through,” I said, softly patting his shoulder. “I’ll be in touch, soon, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said.

  Chapter 21

  When I left Raul’s house, I grabbed a quick sandwich to go, and then drove straight to Cambridge.

  By 3:00, I was sitting in the lobby of The Channing Hotel, waiting at the bar and sipping on a glass of Pinot Noir. The bar was empty at that hour, so the bartender engaged me in idle chitchat.

  Since I knew Charlie was due to check in at any moment, I kept one eye on the reception desk. When a half hour passed and no Charlie, I ordered my second glass of wine.

  Finally, at 3:55, I saw a man with red hair enter the lobby with a small rolling suitcase. He wore an expensive looking business suit with polished leather shoes. He approached the reception desk, spoke briefly with the woman, and headed to the elevator with a key card in hand.

  I paid my bar tab with a twenty and, because I didn’t want to wait for the change, left the balance as a tip. I grabbed my purse and calmly followed Charlie into the elevator.

  Charlie pressed the number 4 button. He glanced at me, and with a smile, kindly asked which floor I needed.

  “Actually,” I said, turning to him. “I’m going where you’re going.”

  “You’re staying on the fourth floor, too?”

  I nodded.

  The elevator doors closed and up we went.

  “You’re Charlie Cox, right?” I asked him.

  His eyes went wide as he stared at me. “Do I know you?”

  “My name is Sarah Woods. I’m a private detective. Candice, Melanie’s daughter, hired me.”

  He blinked at me. “I don’t understand. Why?”

  “She still has questions about her mother’s death,” I replied. “I was hoping you could help me.”

  The elevator stopped on the fourth floor and the doors opened, but Charlie just stood there gaping at me. “I’m not sure how I can help you,” he said as his expression changed to concern. “How’d you find me?”

  “I know a few things about you, Charlie. I know you went to UConn with Gregory Frazier. I also know that you and Melanie had something going on at this hotel.”

  There was panic in his eyes. “Wait. Gregory knows?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “I want to hear your side of things.”

  He shook his head. “Why does it matter anymore?”

  An older couple sauntered onto the elevator, so Charlie grabbed the handle of his suitcase and exited the elevator. I followed him down the hallway.

  “Can we go to your room and talk?” I called out to him.

  His pace quickened. “I’m busy,” he said. “I have a meeting to prepare for.”

  “Just give me five minutes. Please.”

  He stopped in front of door 420 and turned to me. “Why? What do you want?”

  “Were you and Melanie having an affair?”

  He paused. “It might look that way, but I swear to you, it wasn’t an affair.”

  “Then why did Melanie come to this hotel every time you were in town? And why did she wear a wig?”

  Charlie glanced up and down the hall, clearly paranoid. “Would you please lower your voice.”

  “Just five minutes.”

  He sighed and opened the door. “Okay, you can come in for five minutes. But then you have to leave.”

  Once inside the dark room, Charlie offered me a seat at the small table. He turned on one of the desk lamps but kept the curtains drawn. He finally sat down and crossed his legs in an effort to appear casual, but his tense expression spoke volumes. “I thought they caught the person who poisoned Melanie. That drug dealer, what’s her name.”

  “Her name is Jasmine Thompson,” I replied. “And she’s not your typical drug dealer. Her husband is dying of cancer and she was growing the marijuana legally.”

  He shrugged. “What does any of this have to do with me?”

  “When was the last time you spoke to Gregory?” I asked.

  He paused. “A few weeks ago. Although, he’s left me a few messages recently that I haven’t had a chance to listen to yet.”

  Perhaps Gregory had called Charlie to warn him about a nosy private detective. It was just my good fortune that Charlie hadn’t listened to those messages.

  “Look,” I said. “It’s been confirmed that Gregory was out of the country when Melanie was poisoned but that doesn’t mean he didn’t hire someone to do it for him.”

  Charlie made a face like I had slapped him. “Are you accusing me of something?”

  I ignored the question. “Did you see Melanie the morning she died?”

  “Yes. She came here that morning.”

  At least he was telling the truth about this. “Why?”

  “She’d been helping me with something. A personal issue that I’d rather not get into if you don’t mind.”

  “A personal issue?”

  “Yes.” He fiddled with his tie, then smoothed it out. “It’s not important. But we were not having an affair.”

  “Have you ever been to her office?”

  “No,” he said.

  “Where were you on April third between 7:00 and 8:00pm?” I asked.

  He paused for few seconds. “I was having dinner with some colleagues at Joe’s Bar and Grille downtown. Got there around six and left about eight or eight-thirty. After dinner, I came right back to my room.”

  “Can you give me the names of your colleagues to confirm that?”

  I could tell Charlie was not happy about it, but he took a pen from the desk and scribbled on the hotel stationery. “Call my secretary. She can fax you over the receipt from dinner that night. That should be proof enough.”

  “If you and Melanie weren’t romantically involved, why did she wear a disguise when she came here?”

  “Because I asked her to. I didn’t want anyone to know I was seeing a sex therapist.”

  “You were a client of hers?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “I thought she no longer saw clients.”

  “We were helping each other out. I needed her advice, and she needed money.”

  “Ah,” I said. “So you knew that she was broke.”

  “Yes. That’s basically what she implied.”

  “Did she tell you it was because Gregory spent all their money?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Did you know that Melanie was in the process of writing an autobiography?”

  “Sure, she’d mentioned it to me.”

  “Did she happen to tell you what she was writing about?”

  “No.”

  I decided to change gears. “Okay, tell me about Gregory’s new girlfriend. What’s her name?”

  “He told me but I don’t remember it.”

  “Well, what did he say about her?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t really remember.”

  I had a feeling he knew something so I wasn’t going to
let up. “Did he say how they met?”

  “Jesus, I don’t know. You’re the detective, why don’t you find out yourself?”

  “Just give me a clue. Anything. Please?”

  He rubbed his forehead and sighed. “I can’t be sure, but I think he mentioned something about her being a hypnotherapist. Only reason I remember is because Gregory made a joke about it.”

  I gasped. There was only one hypnotherapist that I knew about. “Amy Chang?”

  He thought about it. “Yeah. I think that’s what her name was.”

  A chill crept up my spine. “Did Gregory say how long he’d been dating her?”

  “No,” he replied. “I assume he started seeing her after Melanie died.”

  “But it’s possible he’s been dating her longer than that?”

  Charlie eyed me curiously. “How do you know her?”

  “She leases the office right next to Melanie’s. I met her a few days ago. She was there with a client the night of April third.”

  Charlie got up and dashed over to the mini bar. He pulled out two small bottles of vodka and emptied both into one glass. He downed half the liquid and then paced the room. “Gregory is like a brother to me, do you understand? We were the best man at each other’s wedding. I swear to you, he’d never kill his wife.”

  “Maybe there’s a side to Gregory you don’t know about,” I said. “Maybe the money changed him.”

  He stopped pacing and looked at me with hard eyes. “Don’t even try to turn me against him. It won’t work. I’ve known Gregory for twenty-five years. I’ve only known you for five minutes and now I regret telling you anything because you’ll just spin this whole thing to fit your theory. The only reason I agreed to talk to you is because I am positive that Gregory is not involved in Melanie’s death.”

  “Please keep in mind that I am not here for my own amusement or for my own agenda. Candice hired me to find the truth. If Gregory is involved in her mother’s death, she has a right to know.”

  Charlie downed the rest of the vodka and slammed the empty glass on the table. “Damn it. You’ve put me in a tough spot, you know that? Gregory is going to be bullshit when he finds out I’ve been talking to you. I should have known better.” He went back to the mini bar and pulled out two bottles of gin. He emptied them both in the glass and continued pacing the room.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t drink anymore,” I said.

  He stopped and pointed a finger at me. “If you don’t like it, you’re welcome to leave.”

  I didn’t budge. “Look, maybe you are right. Maybe Gregory is innocent. Amy Chang could have poisoned Melanie without his involvement. But first, I need to verify if they were involved prior to Melanie’s death. Will you help me?”

  Charlie shook his head resolutely. “Just leave me out of this mess; and, frankly, I’d like you to leave right now.”

  I took a business card out of my wallet and placed it on the table. “Here’s my number if you change your mind.”

  “I won’t change my mind,” he said. “Don’t contact me again.”

  As I entered the elevators to go back down to the lobby, I wondered if Charlie would show up to his business meeting completely hammered. Perhaps he should ditch his colleagues and go to an AA meeting, instead.

  Chapter 22

  It was almost 4:45pm by the time I got back to my car and called Carter.

  “I just talked to Charlie Cox.” I told him. “I don’t think he was having an affair with Melanie, but I know who Gregory’s girlfriend is.”

  “Amy Chang,” he said, matter-of-factly.

  I gasped. “Yes. How did you find out?”

  Carter cleared his throat. “I’ll explain later. Where are you?”

  “I’m heading home right now. Have you had dinner, yet?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll grab some Chinese take out and meet you back at my apartment.”

  “Roger that.”

  A little after 6:00, Carter showed up at my place with a six-pack of Corona.

  “Have a seat,” I said. “The food is on the table.”

  He cracked open a beer for each of us, and we dug right in, filling our plates with a medley of various dishes: fried rice, egg rolls and teriyaki chicken.

  “So tell me what happened today with Gregory,” I said.

  “I went to his house around nine and waited. He left around ten-fifteen with golf clubs. I figured he’d be gone for a few hours.”

  “You got into his house?”

  “Easy,” he said. “There’s an alarm system but it hasn’t been activated. The guy probably spent five grand on a security system and he hasn’t bothered to hook it up.”

  I nibbled on an egg roll, hanging on Carter’s every word. “And?”

  “Nice house. The guy likes to spend money. You should see the theater room with a state of the art surround sound system. Probably cost over a hundred grand. Anyway, I had a look around and found his laptop in the bedroom. I copied his emails onto a USB flash drive.” He reached into his back pocket and placed the device on the table.

  “Is that how you found out about Amy Chang?” I asked.

  “Yep. Must be two or three dozen emails back and forth. From what I gather, she’s been going to his house several times a week since mid April. The emails are very sexual in nature.”

  “When was the last email sent?”

  “Gregory sent her one yesterday around 11:00 in the morning.”

  “That’s around the time I left his house,” I said. “What did the email say?”

  “Gregory warned Amy not to contact him for a few weeks. He told her they needed to play it safe. Lay low until things cooled down.”

  “Until things cooled down?” I repeated, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck vibrate. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “The emails started on April fifteenth,” he said.

  “April fifteenth?” I shut my eyes and thought about that date. It finally came to me. “That was Melanie’s funeral.”

  Carter shrugged. “Unfortunately, these emails don’t prove that Gregory conspired to kill his wife.”

  “Of course not,” I said with a sigh. “He’s too smart. Did you check his search history on the computer?”

  “Nothing incriminating. No research on poisons or marijuana, or ways to kill someone; but again, he’s probably not stupid enough to use his personal laptop to do that kind of research.”

  “Charlie Cox is convinced that Gregory is innocent,” I said. “Although he was quite nervous talking to me today. He downed four miniature bottles of liquor within five minutes. I think he has a drinking problem.”

  “Well,” Carter said. “What do you want to do about Amy Chang?”

  I checked my watch. “Can you look up her home address for me?”

  “Sure,” he said. “You want to show up at her house?”

  “You bet. She’s gonna be pissed, but maybe I can use that to my advantage.”

  While Carter accessed a program on his phone for locating people, I began clearing the table, discarding the empty Chinese take-out boxes. A thought occurred to me. “Have you ever been hypnotized?” I asked him.

  He looked up and gave me a crooked smile. “No, have you?”

  “No, but I had a friend who went to a hypnotist to quit smoking.”

  Carter rolled his eyes. “You don’t really believe that stuff, do you? It’s a scam.”

  I laughed. “How do you know if you’ve never tried it?”

  “Why would I need to? I’m damn near perfect.” Carter went back to his search while I took a few more sips of beer and eventually dumped the rest out in the sink. The last thing I needed was to cloud my head with alcohol.

  “Amy Chang lives in Exeter, New Hampshire,” he finally said. “If we leave now, we can be there by 7:30.”

  I grabbed my purse. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 23

  As we drove to Exeter, the sun was setting behind a blanket of clouds, coloring the sky a deep
shade of purple.

  Carter was quiet as he drove and I figured this might be a good time to tell him about my decision to move to California, but just as I was about to open my mouth to speak, Carter cleared his throat and asked, “How was dinner last night with Brian?”

  “We had a really nice time,” I said. “It’s been a while since he and I did anything together.”

  “Did you tell him about California?”

  “Yeah. I think he’s happy for me.”

  Carter hesitated. “So you’ve made a decision to move?”

  I swallowed. “Um, yeah, I guess I have.”

  He kept his eyes on the road. “When do you leave?”

  “September.”

  Carter remained quiet for a few long seconds. Finally, he said, “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  “A change of scenery might do me good.”

  He said nothing.

  When we pulled into the driveway of a large farmhouse style home, he cut the engine. “We’re here.”

  The house was secluded being surrounded by dense woods. I was hesitant to step out of the car, afraid a swarm of mosquitos might carry me away.

  Lights were on in the house, so someone must be home. “Are you waiting in the car or coming with me?” I asked.

  “Whatever you want.”

  “Maybe I should go and talk to her alone. Do you mind?”

  “Not at all.”

  When I walked up the steps of the farmer’s porch, I could hear laughter coming from inside the house. It was the unmistakable sound of giggling children.

  I knocked. When the door opened, a girl of about six or seven years old stared back at me with wide, blue eyes. Her long, silky black hair was the same exact color and texture as her mother’s, along with her mother’s slanted eyes and olive skin tone. The blue eyes obviously came from the dad.

  “Hello, there,” I said to her in a friendly voice. “Is your mommy home?”

  I heard Amy’s voice yelling to her daughter and, a moment later, Amy appeared behind the screen door. She blinked at me, clearly surprised to see me standing there.

  “Hi, Amy. I apologize for stopping by like this. Do you have a minute?”