Nail on the Head (Detective Kate Rosetti Mystery Book 5)

by Gina LaManna

  “Meaning?”

  “I’ve seen some of the contracts he’s done for his clients. He always screws the other side out of a deal. He’s good at his job. Hits you with that fake charm up front, but it’s all an act. He’s got this, like, chess game playing out in his head to get what he wants. He’s three steps ahead of you at all times, and you don’t know it until it’s too late.”

  “Then he’s not very good at chess,” I said. “Because I’m pretty sure ending up dead means he loses the game.”

  “I’m not all that surprised he’s dead. Someone obviously feels the same way I do.”

  “That Travis was a liar and took advantage of people?”

  “Why else would someone kill him?” Greg shrugged. “It’s the only explanation. Could be some husband he screwed out of custody of his kids. Maybe a wife Travis took to the cleaners even though it was the husband having the affair. Who knows? He worked on plenty of messy cases and always seemed to come out ahead. He was Kirk and Jack’s favorite little golden boy.”

  “Do you think Jack or Kirk had any read on what sort of guy Travis truly was?”

  “Nah. They keep themselves separated from the rest of us. They don’t socialize with the ‘underlings,’” Greg said, adding a sarcastic tone. “They only care about the bottom line. They have called out Travis a few times in meetings to rave about his business prowess. They recognize his skills, but they’re careful not to give up an inch of power.”

  At least that part matched mostly with what Julie had said about the two bosses keeping their distance from the other employees at the company. A brief thought flitted through my head as I wondered if maybe Travis was posing a threat to Kirk or Jack? Maybe inching his way into partner territory, and they didn’t like it?

  I just as quickly dismissed it. Not entirely, but I moved that theory to the back burner. There were far easier ways to get Travis kicked out of the company that didn’t involve murder. Firing him, for example.

  “When’s the last time you hung out with Travis outside of work?”

  “Uh, six months ago, maybe more?” Greg seemed to be thinking on the timeline. “I honestly can’t really tell you. Whenever he stopped coming to poker nights with us. A few times we had a company happy hour or a little party here at the office, and we’d be there together, but I consider that a work function. Not something I invited him to.”

  “Do you know of anyone at the company who was friendly with Travis?”

  “Why would anyone want to be friendly with Travis?”

  “Okay. Do you know of anyone who disliked him? I mean, really disliked him?”

  “Enough to kill him?” Greg’s question was obviously rhetorical. He stroked his chin in thought. “My best guess is one of his disgruntled clients. Like I said, a husband or wife he screwed out of a settlement of some kind. None of us here at the office cared enough about Travis to kill him.”

  I thanked Greg for his time, then added one last question. “Which casino were you at last night, and can anyone vouch for your whereabouts?”

  “An alibi?” He gave a funny sort of smile that was hard to read. “Okay, but you’re not going to like it.”

  “If you weren’t murdering Travis, I’m pretty sure just about anything is better.”

  “We went to Mystic Lake Casino,” he said. “I was with Joey Malone, like I told you, and a few other paralegals. I don’t really remember their names; I’d been drinking. I wasn’t the driver.”

  “And you were there from when to when? Were you with your friends the entire time?”

  “We got there around nine p.m. Didn’t roll back home until about five a.m.”

  “And were you with—”

  “No,” Greg interrupted. “I met a fine young woman at the casino, and we spent some time together in a hotel room.”

  “Can I get her name?”

  “Darla,” he drawled. “No last name that I caught.”

  It took every ounce of my restraint not to roll my eyes, but shockingly enough, I believed Greg. I also knew that I could get in touch with the casino and review footage if necessary. I could probably have Asha locate Darla if needed. For now, my gut was telling me that any more time spent looking at Greg for this murder was going to be wasted.

  I thanked him again, then asked him to send Joey into the conference room. The second he’d left, Chloe turned to me.

  “What a sleazebag, am I right?” Chloe said. “Jeez. The way he talks about Travis and women sort of makes me want to poke him in the eyes.”

  I couldn’t hold back my burst of laughter. It seemed to surprise Chloe as much as it surprised me. There was just something about her frankness and confidence that was refreshing.

  “What’d you think?” Chloe asked. “I don’t think he’s a killer, but I’m not a fan of him either. He does paint Travis in a different light than Julie.”

  I gave a subtle shake of my head and glanced around the conference room. “I’d prefer to save our discussion for somewhere more private.”

  “Right, right,” Chloe said, sitting back in her chair and glancing around skeptically. “Sorry.”

  Joey sauntered into the room a few minutes later, moving at a pace that told me he had nowhere important to be. He held a cup of steaming coffee in a mug that had an expletive on the front. It wasn’t exactly the image of professionalism I’d expect in a law office.

  Joey Malone had dark hair that he’d greased to one side. He wore a big gold chain around his neck with a cross on it. But despite his attempt to look like a mobster, he just looked like a kid playing dress up on Halloween.

  He had a babyface with chubby cheeks and bright blue eyes. He wore skinny jeans and a ripped, threadbare, white T-shirt that had probably cost him over a hundred bucks from some hipster boutique. Coming from someone who had personal experience with the mob, Joey was about as far away from a Soprano as one could get.

  “Hi, Joey,” I said as he sat down. I quickly introduced myself. “I’m going to make this quick. Did you kill Travis Newton?”

  Joey blinked, then he gave a bark of laughter. He glanced around the room as if looking for hidden cameras. “You’re joking, right?”

  “Where were you last night?”

  “I was at the casino,” he said. “Mystic Lake. With a few buddies.”

  “Which buddies?”

  “Gregg-o, Nick, and I think the other guy’s name was Pete. Nick and Pete are younger guys here at the firm. We don’t hang out much.”

  “You mean Greg Schneider?” When he nodded, I added, “Were you with them the entire night?”

  “Pretty much. It’s a bit of a drive. No sense going for an hour.”

  “What time did you get back?”

  “With enough time to grab a shower and a coffee before hitting the breakfast snacks.” He gave me a lazy grin. “I only came in this morning for the staff meeting. I’ve got a half day. Gonna go home and fall into bed this afternoon.”

  “Can you guess a time?”

  “Jeez, I don’t know. Five thirty?”

  I thought that was probably close enough to what Greg had estimated as well, especially considering the likely state of their inebriation upon return. It was no wonder he was downing coffee like it was his job.

  “What time did you get into the office this morning?”

  “About seven thirty. Earlier than usual because, like I said, I didn’t sleep.”

  “Was Greg here when you arrived?”

  “Yeah. He was already making coffee.”

  I made a note to follow up with Greg on his arrival time at the office. I also made a note to follow up with Nick and the guy Joey thought was named Pete to confirm the alibis. But I was beginning to think that these guys probably weren’t our killers.

  I wasn’t seeing much in the way of motive. The timelines between their respective arrivals back in town and at the office would make it tight to have killed Travis, gotten cleaned up, and been where they needed to be. But I wouldn’t know that for sure until we got
a confirmed time of death from Melinda.

  I leaned back in my chair and glanced over at Chloe. I nodded for her to continue. She looked blankly at me for a minute. On my paper, I scribbled the words, Go Ahead.

  She blinked at the words on the paper. Then, as if someone had snapped their fingers, she jumped to attention and fixed her eyes on Joey.

  “Mr. Malone,” she said, “what did you think of Travis? Did you like the guy?”

  Joey turned his attention to Chloe. “I didn’t know him that well. He hung with us for a bit. He stopped coming out with us a while back, and honestly, I barely noticed until y’all came in here and started asking about him.”

  Chloe glanced my way, but I kept my gaze on Joey. She correctly interpreted that to mean she should keep going. I sat back for the next twenty minutes and let Chloe finish up the questioning. Finally, she glanced at me and asked if there was anything she’d forgotten.

  “I think we’re good here,” I said, handing over my card to Joey. “If you think of anything, just let me know.”

  Then Chloe and I headed out of the office. I asked to speak with the two partners, but Julie informed me they weren’t in the office, and that they’d probably not say a word without their lawyers present and warrants in hand. I had no doubt she was right, and I didn’t feel like we were missing out on much by skipping our chats with the bigwigs until later.

  “Wow,” Chloe said after we said goodbye to Julie and made our way out of the building. “Thanks. That caught me off guard.”

  “I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable,” I clarified just to be sure she knew I wasn’t trying to be rude. “I just thought it would be a good time to let you take the reins and get a feel for how we do things. What it’s like to be in the hot seat, if you will.”

  “Why? Because he didn’t do it?”

  I unlocked the car and climbed in first. “You don’t think he did it?”

  “I think if you thought he did it, you wouldn’t have handed the questioning over to me. I’m too much of a liability, and you wouldn’t have wanted to lose a conviction over me goofing up and saying the wrong thing during an interrogation.”

  I glanced over at her. “You know, Chloe, I think you might have a future with the team.”

  Chapter 7

  I DROPPED CHLOE BACK at the station with instructions to follow up on our interviews. She was to fact-check the alibis we’d heard from Greg and Joey. Then she was responsible for getting ahold of Nick and the guy possibly named Pete to confirm the Mystic Lake times and stories.

  For extra credit, I told her she could look into the woman Greg had called Darla. While doing all that, she was tasked to write up a brief that could be shared with Asha, Jimmy, and anyone else who might need information on the case.

  I figured that would be enough to keep her busy for the rest of the afternoon and into tomorrow morning. It would buy me some time to take a breath from the case and gather my own thoughts on it without feeling like Chloe was watching my every move. That, plus a few personal tasks I needed to follow up on. Like the message that’d been blinking on my phone since the morning.

  After Chloe had disappeared into the precinct, I made my way to my mother’s café. I opened the door, thinking I’d pick up a quick sandwich for a lunch that was quickly turning into dinner. Then I’d head home, call Russo, and spend the rest of the evening looking over any case files that Asha might have stitched together since this morning.

  I froze when I stepped into the café. A tall, well-groomed man sat in the corner. I told myself my eyes were drawn to him only because of his presence. It was impossible for any person—male or female—to not be affected by Alastair Gem. He controlled any room he stepped into like it was his birthright.

  Clearing my throat, I made my way to the counter and tried to ignore my mother’s piercing gaze while I squinted at a menu I’d memorized a long time ago.

  “Pimento bagel sandwich,” I said. “Toasted. Extra cheese, extra guac, extra—”

  “You’re extra,” my mother said. “By the way, I think someone is here looking for you.”

  “Thanks, Mother. No commentary needed with my sandwich.”

  “The total will be thirty-four dollars.”

  I did a double take. “Excuse me?”

  My mother gave a nonchalant shrug. “Your tab is long enough. If you cut me off from gossip, then I cut you off from free food. That’s your bill for the last week alone.”

  “Mom.”

  She grinned. “I’ll bring your order over to the table in the corner where the handsome gentleman who, I might add, is not your boyfriend, is waiting for you. My, my, you’re in high demand these days.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Okay.”

  “He’s getting married.”

  My mother’s eyebrows shot up. “Ooh-kay, then. How do you feel about that turn of events?”

  “Hungry,” I said pointedly. “I feel like I want my sandwich. And I’ll take a chai tea latte on the house also for that juicy piece of gossip.”

  My mother let the subject drop. Apparently I’d paid a fair price for my meal. I dropped some cash into the tip jar for Elizabeth and backed away from the counter. It felt a little presumptuous to join Gem at his table without an invitation. But as a detective by trade, I found it highly likely the reason he’d carted his billionaire self over to this side of town had to do with the reason my phone had been blinking all morning.

  “Detective, care for some company?”

  The soft voice rang out behind me. Gem stood behind his seat, gesturing toward the table before him. Though it was a question, his words sounded stronger than an invitation. I found myself gravitating toward the chair he’d pointed at as if under his spell.

  I sat. We waited together for my food to arrive. When it did, Gem’s eyes widened ever so slightly at my super extra sandwich. It was about three inches thick, and I realized it hadn’t been the politest choice. There was no easy way to eat this sandwich that didn’t make me look like a slob. Which was unfortunate, seeing as I was really hungry.

  Instead, I reached for the chai tea, and smiled at Gem. “Fancy seeing you here.”

  “Please, go ahead and enjoy the five-course meal that’s slapped between a bagel.” His eyes twinkled as he glanced at my sandwich, then at my chai tea. “I can hear your stomach growling from here.”

  “Oh. It can wait.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  It seemed Gem wasn’t in any hurry, so I did my best to slice the sandwich into manageable-sized chunks. I took a tiny bite and sat back in my seat, sipping the chai again.

  “I should start by telling you congratulations,” I said. “I got your invitation this morning.”

  “I noticed you didn’t RSVP in your text.”

  “I thought I had to send that card thing back in the enclosed envelope.”

  “I knew you’d never do that.”

  “No,” I admitted, “but I did ask my sister to do it for me. I haven’t talked to Russo yet. There was a plus-one slot on the invitation. So, you know, I can’t send it back until I check a box on that.”

  “Is there a question mark on the box?” Gem looked intrigued.

  “Only because he’s far away and works a lot. All things, you know. I just have to be sure he can make it.”

  “Right. Of course. Well, thank you.”

  “What made you pop over here today?”

  “You don’t seem to be answering your messages.”

  “I was busy.”

  “Ah.”

  “Dead body,” I added. “I’m on a new case.”

  Gem nodded again, but it was clear he wasn’t fooled by my very valid excuses. Which was fair because if I’d wanted to text him back, I could have. Instead, I’d held off on so much as reading his messages. The most I’d done was look at the blinking light to see there were three of them.

  “You weren’t supposed to get that invitation yet.”

  I stopped mid-bite of a pimento
-cheese-coated bite of bagel. “What?”

  “The invitation. I hadn’t meant for it to get sent out to you.”

  I sent my fork down. “Oh. Well, now I feel like an idiot for talking so long about the plus-one box.”

  “No, it’s not that. I wanted to tell you in person.”

  “About what?”

  “The engagement,” Gem said, sounding the tiniest bit exasperated. “I thought you might find it to be a bit of a surprise. And since we’re sometimes friends, I thought I owed it to you to tell you in person. Not on an overpriced piece of paper.”

  “It did feel like very expensive paper.”

  Gem gave a laugh, his eyes crinkling. But it faded quickly, and he didn’t look all that happy when it did. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For letting you find out like this. I told Mindy not to send out the invitations until I okayed them, but I guess she jumped the gun a little bit.”

  “Understandable. I’m sure she’s excited for the wedding.”

  Gem’s eyebrows crept up. “You could say that.”

  “Who wouldn’t be?” I gave a playful, overexaggerated bat of my eyelashes. “Lassie told me you’ve been rated the most eligible bachelor in fifteen magazines. I guess that’s some kind of compliment if you’re into that sort of thing. Just wait until Lassie hears you’re engaged. You know, she’d probably give her left leg for an exclusive interview with you or the bride.”

  “Kate.”

  “What?”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “Not really. We’re still talking about the wedding.”

  “I’m not done apologizing,” Gem said. “I feel bad.”

  “Don’t. I mean, like my sister said, it’s the natural next step. You were dating Mindy, and I’m assuming you guys love each other... I’m a detective. I should have been able to figure out where things were heading.”

  “You didn’t think I’d marry Mindy?”

  I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. “I don’t know. You know I’m not really good at this relationship sort of thing. I’m better at reading dead bodies than I am live ones.”

  “You’re dodging the question. Why are you so surprised?”