“Who would that be?”
“Carter Simons Junior, Carter’s son and my nephew.”
“Could we talk to him?” asked Solomon, rising. “I’d like to hear his take on Schwarz, then we’ll be out of here. We really appreciate your time.”
“Of course. I’ll have my secretary take you there. I have to go to my next meeting and there’s a car waiting for me downstairs.” O’Keefe rounded the desk to shake our hands again before grabbing a leather portfolio case from the desk and tucking it under his arm. “I hope you catch the bastard that hurt Jim. Call my secretary if you need anything else,” he said, waving in his secretary, who was now hovering by the open doors. “This is my junior secretary, Mark. Mark, can you take the investigators to Junior and tell him to help them however he can.” Saying that, Joseph O’Keefe was gone, with a couple of assistants flanking him as he exited the office.
“Please follow me,” said Mark, “We have to head over to the east wing; but it’s only a few minutes’ walk.”
As we followed, Solomon asked Mark a few questions, but the secretary had only joined the firm within the past couple of months and didn’t know the deceased. Solomon gave up, and together, we surveyed the building as we traversed it. There wasn’t much we could see. Unlike modern, open plan offices, Simonstech was very much closed off, with office after office hidden away behind touch code doors. Within minutes, we passed through a glass-covered walkway, hovering in the air between a second building, unseen from the front parking lot. The outside scenery turned greener as we moved towards the back of the building, and I could just see the edges of the lake and a smattering of the purple flowers, just like in the model.
A tall, slim man was waiting for us, all smiles as we approached, shaking our hands firmly and inquiring after our health. If I didn’t know he was Carter Simons Junior, I would have recognized him from the photo of his father, also posted on the company website. “Old Man O’Keefe says this has something to do with Jim Schwarz, huh? Nice guy. We were all sad to see him leave. What happened?”
“He was murdered,” said Solomon, rather bluntly.
“Well, gosh, I never would have figured Jim for a murder victim. Honestly,” Simons Junior said, leaning in as he pushed open the door to a small meeting room and gestured for us to come in, “he just wasn’t that interesting.”
Solomon ignored that, instead asking, “We’re checking into his background and were curious about why he left Simonstech so suddenly.”
“I never really asked, but it’s always the same. More money, more vacation days,” replied Junior, with a knowing nod. “We couldn’t match his demands, so he left. His loss, I can tell you. Nice guy, but plenty of bright guys out there just waiting to catch a break for a smaller paycheck.”
“Did he have any problems with any of the staff here?” Solomon asked.
“No, friendly enough. He never mentioned anything. I can check his employee file, if you like?”
“We’d appreciate a copy.”
“If you leave your card, I’ll have my secretary mail you a copy.”
“Appreciated.” Solomon produced a card and pushed it across the table. Junior studied it a moment, then pocketed it.
“What did Jim do to warrant the special treatment with PIs?” he wanted to know. “Aside from being murdered?”
“That’s principally it,” Solomon deadpanned. “Was Schwarz… Jim… particularly friendly with any other employees here?”
“Not that I remember.”
“How about Karen Doyle or Lorena Vasquez?”
The silence in the room was audible, and Junior hesitated for the briefest of moments before recovering, and shrugging like the question was nothing. “He knew them. We all did since they all worked for me. They left a couple of years ago.”
“Were the three close?”
“I have no idea. I’m sure they wouldn’t have killed him.” Junior laughed. “Like I said, they’re not here anymore, or you could ask them personally. I’m pretty sure no one bears a grudge nearly two years old.”
“A grudge?” I asked.
Again, Junior hesitated before continuing, “Poor choice of words, I guess. I simply meant, that if they didn’t get along, I’m sure none of them care about it now. Our Human Resources department might be able to put you in contact. However, we didn’t stay in touch.”
“That won’t be possible,” Solomon replied. “Karen Doyle and Lorena Vasquez are both dead.”
“Damn shame,” said Junior, not skipping a beat. He checked his watch, then glanced over his shoulder to the empty corridor. “Nice people. Listen, I have a meeting to attend. Anything else I can help you with?” He pushed back his chair, rising, and overtly signaling the meeting was over.
“We’re trying to work out if there was any reason why three employees of the same division, in the same firm, would all leave at the same time, and then all end up dead,” said Solomon, not rising from his chair. I stayed put in mine too.
Junior crossed to the door, opening it wide and holding it. He acted like he had all the time in the world, but when he looked from Solomon to me, his eyes were cold and angry. “I don’t like what you’re insinuating and neither would my uncle. I think you should leave now.”
“Thanks for your time,” said Solomon, surprising me by rising this time. That left me obligated to follow his lead.
“I’ll take you to the elevators, then security will show you out,” Junior told us. We followed him; Solomon quietly, and I… puzzled that Solomon wasn’t more insistent in his questioning.
“One more thing,” Solomon said, as the elevator doors opened in front of us. “Did Jim Schwarz, Karen Doyle, and Lorena Vasquez have any issues that involved Simonstech or any employee? Were they encouraged to leave in any way?”
Junior pointed to the elevator, the sleeves of his suit pulling back to reveal cufflinks with a raised butterfly, the same pattern as the company logo. “That’s enough. I won’t have you slandering the good name of my family’s firm. I don’t know how you wheedled an appointment from my uncle, but I can guarantee you won’t get another. Out,” he said, the color rising in his cheeks. “And don’t come back.”
Solomon inclined his head and we stepped inside, the doors closing on Junior’s angry face. Sure enough, a thick set, uniformed, security guard waited for us on the first floor as the elevator opened into the lobby.
“This way,” he said, without any of the pleasantries he exhibited toward us on the way in. “I’ve been instructed not to let you back into the building,” he said, striding ahead of us. Halfway across the lobby, I nudged Solomon and nodded to my right where Joseph O’Keefe stood, along with an older man. He bore a strong resemblance to Junior, but with thinner hair. Still, he was an enigmatic, handsome man. “That’s Carter Simons Senior,” I whispered and Solomon nodded. In front of the pair were Maddox and his occasional partner, Detective Rebecca Blake. They looked up and saw us. Maddox acknowledged us and Blake smiled with a nod at me. I didn’t like her for a long time, but decided I didn’t loathe her now. I tried not to grin at Maddox since we’d beaten him to the scene… again. I couldn’t say it was a surprise to see them, but I was happy we got here first. Solomon Agency, one: MPD, zero. On the other hand, they had badges and warrants we could never get. A moment later, we were out on our asses.
“That was quick,” I said, as Solomon and I strolled to his car.
“But informative. What was your take?”
“I love this bit. I deduce everything right and you realize I am your smartest employee ever.”
Solomon laughed. “Prove it.”
I thought about O’Keefe’s demeanor and went with my gut reaction. “Joseph O’Keefe knew nothing about his former employees’ deaths and was saddened to hear about Jim Schwarz. He appeared genuine.”
“Agreed. And Carter Junior?”
“At first, I thought he didn’t know a thing, but he stiffened when you mentioned Karen and Lorena. He knew about them, but didn’t expec
t they would be brought up and it caught him by surprise.” I waited, but Solomon waved me on, so I continued, “I bet he makes a terrible poker player. Plus, he lied about why Jim Schwarz left the company. Jim didn’t want more money like Junior said. He’d already turned O’Keefe’s pay raise down. One other thing, he confirmed all our victims worked in the same division.”
“He lied about something else,” said Solomon. “He didn’t have a meeting. He wanted us out of the building the moment the women’s names were brought up.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I just saw him watching us leave from a window. Don’t look up,” Solomon added as he beeped the Lexus open.
“Oops,” I said because my head was already turned.
“He’s gone. I’m going to have Lucas look into his background. Junior knows something about the victims, and whatever it is, he doesn’t want us digging around.”
Chapter Twelve
“On a scale of one to ten, how embarrassed are you to be seen out in public with me?” I asked. I blurted out the burning question that had been bugging me on an epic scale. Lily would be so proud of my directness. Meanwhile, I would have liked for a gigantic hole to open up in the ground and swallow me up. How whiny did I sound? But since Solomon’s idea of dinner and movie seemed to have morphed into takeout pizza and a DVD at his house, I had to wonder again, didn’t he want to be seen in public with me?
Solomon looked around the small store front of Monty’s Pizza, which currently was only occupied by the two of us, and frowned. We were waiting for a large, stuffed crust, barbecue pizza and my stomach kept emitting embarrassing little growls. That my question covered up the noises was pure coincidence.
“Zero,” he said.
“Whoa, that’s off the charts!”
“You asked. What’s with the question anyway?”
I shrugged. “No reason.”
Monty, the man himself, slid the box over the counter and took Solomon’s money. We climbed into his car and headed for Chilton. I tried to not lick my way through the box to the delicious contents. Solomon placed a hand on top of it. “If you wait ten minutes,” he said, “you can have a plate and a glass of wine.”
“So formal? You spoil me.”
“Don’t forget, one comes with alcohol.”
“Sold. Drive faster!” Faster, I decided, before I started pressing the question of our relationship too. Oh, what the hell, while I was embarrassing myself, I might as well continue. “So… are you my boyfriend or what?”
“What?”
“Really!” I half yelled.
“No!” Solomon glanced towards me, looking utterly confused, before returning his eyes to the road. “I meant what kind of question is that?”
“We’ve never really discussed it. I know we’re dating, but… I don’t know if you think this is casual sex, or a relationship or…”
“A regular booty call?” Solomon smiled. “With dinner on top?”
“Well, I guess you could put it that way,” I replied sulkily, trying not to think about who or what went on top. Solomon had a great trick that involved a strawberry, which was enough to send me into a spin just thinking about it.
“I kind of assumed you were my girlfriend.”
“Oh.” We fell silent. After a moment, Solomon asked hesitantly. “You are my girlfriend, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I said, mashing my lips together to compress the huge grin that tried to consume my face. “I think so. Yes. Fine, if you insist.”
“So… this is settled?”
“Um…”
“What now?” Solomon sighed.
“Can I tell anyone?”
“Like whom?”
“Lily, for starters, and my family, and… What about at work?”
“Maybe we should just keep it between us. The last thing either of us needs are people sticking their big noses into our business. Okay with you?” I gurgled a very non-committal noise, and Solomon glanced my way again. “But you can tell Lily.”
“Thanks,” I said, even though she already knew everything and Solomon probably knew that.
“My sister knows. And my brother,” added Solomon. “My whole family knows!”
“They are your whole family,” I pointed out, remembering Solomon lost his parents some years earlier and pretty much raised his younger siblings.
“And Anastasia is thrilled. She thinks you’re awesome.” Solomon pulled onto his street, searching for a parking space. “Have you been worrying about this? About whether I was taking advantage of you?”
“No,” I lied. “Never. Never even crossed my mind.”
Solomon parked and switched off the engine. He unbuckled his seatbelt, leaned over and kissed me firmly on the lips. “You’re a terrible liar sometimes.”
With Solomon busy in the kitchen of his large, welcoming brownstone, nestled in Chilton and only a few blocks from Melanie Doyle's apartment, I browsed his small DVD collection in the living room. Surprisingly, there were no romances, or musicals, but he did have a couple of comedies and action flicks. There was one DVD that made my eyebrows rise so I put it to one side to confront him when he brought our pizza in. Really, I never took him for that kind of man.
When my cell phone vibrated in my pocket, I thought about ignoring it, but after seeing it was Lily, I answered.
“Want to go on a stakeout?” she asked.
“Not really. I’m at Solomon’s, having pizza.”
“Takeout?”
“Yep.”
“Still doesn’t want to be seen anywhere with you, huh?” said Lily, breezily.
“Lily! That hurts.”
“What’s for dessert?”
“Me.”
“I don’t wanna… no, I am not saying that. I know what you’ll answer and that’s just rude. Do you want to stakeout after? Or will your legs be too wobbly?”
“Wobbly, I hope. How is the Perfect Brides stakeout working out?”
“Like watching paint dry. Nothing is happening at all.”
“I called you. Any luck with Sally-Anne’s surveillance tapes?”
“Nope. I watched the in-store tape first, and yeah, there was a woman in there around the time Sally-Anne said, but she never turned her face towards the cameras. And on the night of the burglary, there was nothing but white noise.”
“White noise?”
“Yep. I called Sally-Anne and told her and you’ll never guess. Go on, guess!”
“No, I don’t want to. Solomon will be back any minute so just tell me.”
“Spoilsport. Sally-Anne checked and the wire was cut on the outside camera. I think the thieves did it.”
I mused over that. It was disappointing that the tapes couldn’t give us anything, but it was a good lead to start. “I agree. Anything suspicious reported at Perfect Brides?”
“Sharon says no. I’ve been sitting outside for an hour tonight and I’ve seen zip.”
“Any reason why you’re staking them out tonight? Did something happen?”
“Jord got me the crime reports from the burglaries and I noticed all the stores were broken into during the evening hours. The ones with security recorded times that were all before midnight so I figured the store only needed watching for a few hours at night.”
“I'm sorry I can't help out more, but good work!”
“Thank you. And there’s more! Sharon said there was a woman acting funny in the store this afternoon. Ruby said she’d cover my shift at the bar and Jord is at work so I thought, why not? And here I am. I’m boooored.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, my butt’s numb and I didn’t bring any CDs, so I’m listening to the radio and… hey, Lexi, what do you do when you need to pee on a stakeout?”
“Scream usually.”
“Good call. If you get bored of your hot boss, come find me.”
“Not likely. We had the talk.”
“The Talk. The baby one? Lexi!”
“No, the boyfriend-girl
friend one. We’re so on!”
Lily squealed and I held the phone away from my ear. “Ohmigoooooosh,” she finally squeezed out. “I knew it! I knew he wasn’t embarrassed to be seen in public with you. After all, you’re very stylish and popular.”
“Aw, thanks.”
“Oh! I see someone entering the store! Gotta go.”
“Okay, and if you see anything suspicious, do nothing,” I instructed Lily. “Do not confront them. Don’t even let them know you’re there. Just take a photo, make some notes, but do not approach!”
“No problem. I’m very inconspicuous,” Lily said and hung up. Somehow, that didn’t comfort me, now that I’d already seen her wigs and sunglasses.
When Solomon entered, bearing a large tray loaded with pizza, napkins, wine glasses, and a large bowl of popcorn, I scooped the DVD from the coffee table and held it up. “What’s this?” I asked, raising my eyebrows in question. “Since when are you into this stuff?”
“I swear it’s not mine,” he said, setting down the tray on the coffee table.
“The entire series of Glee? C’mon on. Are you a closet Gleek? You can tell me. I promise I won’t break up with you.”
“It’s my sister’s, and no, I don’t watch it.” He grabbed the remote control and patted the couch cushion. “Come over here.”
I didn’t need asking twice. I dropped onto the couch and curled my feet under me as Solomon passed my plate. “So, eating take-out in. Yum!” I stuffed a slice into my mouth. Well, not the whole thing, but close to it, and my stomach gave a mewling grumble of delight.
“Did you want to go out?” Solomon asked, frowning, as he channel-surfed. “It’s been a long day.”
“No, like you said. Long day. Plus, Monty’s is the best.”
“I thought we could head over to Lake Pierce on the weekend. Get out of town. Make a day of it. Or we could rent a cabin for the night?” Solomon smiled, raised his eyebrows, and I thought how charming it would be to stroll around the pretty lakeside retreat… out of town… where no one could see us. “Okay, what gives, Lexi? Why the funny look?”
Weapons of Mass Distraction Page 15
