CHAPTER 12
PARR HEATING & AIR
It had been two weeks since Martin Windsor's disappearance, yet I wasn't any closer to finding him. Apparently the Dallas Police Department hadn't been having much luck either. Detective Besch called to tell me that the FBI had been called in. Perkins apparently felt Windsor may have been kidnapped or killed as the result of his involvement in money laundering or drug trafficking. Perkins had been scrutinizing Martin's complicated business structure and had decided he was in over his head.
This was good news for Cheryl, because it meant the authorities were looking for other suspects. But it was also bad news, since it meant her community property could be tied up in court for years, and eventually forfeited if Martin had been involved in illegal activities. As I was pondering this new development, Jodie walked in and handed me a video tape.
"What's this?" I asked.
"I found this in the VCR. I guess Cheryl Windsor must have left it there."
"Oh, right. Hmm. We only watched forty-five minutes of it. I wonder what's on the rest of it."
"You want me to watch it?" Jodie asked.
I thought about Jodie's offer for a moment and almost took her up on it, but then decided she might not know if she saw something important. "Thanks, but I think I'd better do it. I appreciate your offer, though."
"No problem. Let me know if there is anything I can do. You know I like a little excitement once in a while."
I thought for a moment. "Actually, there is something you can do."
"Really. That's great. What is it?"
"How would you like to take a trip to Tobago?"
Jodie's eyes lit up. "Are you serious?"
"Yes, according to his secretary, Martin Windsor was thinking about going down there before he disappeared. One of his resort managers disappeared recently and he wanted to investigate what had happened and why the board of directors was having trouble replacing the manager. I've been wondering if Mr. Windsor might have taken that trip after all."
"So, you want me to check in at the resort and keep an eye out for Martin?"
"Yes, and bring a camera in case you spot him. We'll need pictures to convince Perkins Martin is alive."
"If I see him, do you want me to make contact?"
"No, I don't know what's going on with Mr. Windsor, so it's best not to approach him directly. I wouldn't want to put your life in danger. Just keep your eyes and ears open and let me know if you see anything unusual."
"Okay. When should I leave?"
"You should get an early flight tomorrow. It's a long trip. You should be there by late afternoon. Call me when you get settled in at the resort."
"Great. This is exciting. Thank you, Paula."
It wasn't likely that Jodie would find Martin at the Cocos Bay Resort in Tobago, but even so the trip was a good idea for intelligence-gathering purposes. Since Cheryl would most likely be awarded some of Martin Windsor's investments, the more we knew about them the better. I particularly wanted to know if anything was going on down there other than entertaining tourists.
Bart had to work late that night so I went home early, ordered some Chinese take-out, and curled up on the sofa to watch Martin Windsor walk around his house for eight hours. It was probably a waste of time, but on the slim chance it might produce a clue to his whereabouts, I had to endure the agony.
After fast forwarding through several hours of inactivity, Martin came home and immediately got on the telephone. I could only hear one side of the conversation but it sounded like he was arranging a meeting with someone for that evening. Thirty minutes later he left. When he returned, he went to the front door, opened it, and a man in blue overalls came in. The patch on his uniform read Parr Heating & Air. The man carried a tool kit which he set down in the living room and then appeared to adjust the thermostat. Thirty seconds later he disappeared from the camera's view. I heard water running in the background and then the TV came on. There were voices and laughter.
Fifteen minutes later two men walked into the living room. The second man was taller and thinner than the first, but with his back turned I couldn't see his face. What were these men doing in Martin Windsor's house? Were they robbing him or were they friends waiting for Martin to return? When the second man finally turned toward the camera, I nearly choked on my fried rice. It was the man I'd seen in the elevator at Martin's office building, the man who'd vanished into thin air only to suddenly reappear behind me. Who was this man and what was he doing in Martin Windsor's house?
Excited about what I'd seen on the tape, I called Cheryl to see if she could get together to look at the video tape. She agreed to come by the office in the morning. I was hoping she'd know the identity of the mysterious man. While I was talking to her on the telephone, I kept an eye on the video. Suddenly, I heard the front door open and Martin came into view. He didn't seem concerned about the two men in his house; in fact, they all acted like they were best friends—hugging each another, shaking hands, laughing, and messing around like fraternity brothers. It was a strange scene that I wanted desperately to understand.
When Bart got home, I showed him the tape and asked him for his take on what was going on. He was as mystified as I was but suggested Martin Windsor might be gay. That idea had occurred to me too, but I had dismissed it. Cheryl had told me about their active sex life and had bragged that Martin was an incredible lover. There had to be some other significance to the behavior of these three men and I was determined to figure it out.
The next day I called the Secretary of State's office to find out about Parr Heating and Air, Inc. It had been incorporated the previous year and listed a Raymond Sinclair as the registered agent. I noted the address listed for the principal office of the corporation. It looked familiar. Then I realized it was Martin Windsor's home address. Why would Martin Windsor be running a heating and air-conditioning business out of his home?
When Cheryl showed up to look at the video, I filled her in on what I'd learned. She said she'd never heard of Parr Heating and Air, Inc. and had no idea why her husband would be running a company like that. I shook my head in dismay. It seemed with every new piece of information, came more and more questions. But I needed answers, not more questions, and I needed them soon. Cheryl's freedom depended on it.
Cactus Island, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 8 Page 12
