by Dale Mayer
She frowned. “Hmm.” She studied Kanen for a couple minutes. But she was thinking about Blake and Kanen’s words. “Maybe.”
“Now you’re not alone. You’ve got friends here to help you.”
“Ha. Until you leave.”
The sad note in her voice was unmistakable. “You don’t need to remain alone. That choice is up to you.”
They opened the double doors and walked into a front reception area that rivaled any grand hotel.
She stopped and smiled, gasping at the big chandelier and the large circular desk. “This is beautiful,” she murmured.
The woman looked up from the reception desk and smiled. “Thank you. It was an old estate handed over to the city for the seniors to use.”
“I approve. And I love your accent. You speak English very well,” Laysa said with a smile. “It’s a beautiful place to spend your retirement years.”
“Thank you. Most of us speak English here,” the receptionist said with a gracious smile. “What can we do for you?”
Kanen stepped forward and gave Joseph Carmel’s name.
The receptionist nodded. “He doesn’t get many visitors,” she said, “and none from England or the States.”
Laysa just smiled at her. “Is it a problem to see him? We’d like to very much.”
The woman nodded, looked at a computer screen, clicked on his name and said, “He should be in the gardens this afternoon. Either there or he’ll be playing cards.” She gave them general instructions on how to reach the gardens.
They thanked her and walked away. And, sure enough, several older men were outside.
Laysa frowned. “How are we supposed to know which one is him?”
Kanen smiled, motioned to a nurse in a white uniform and said, “I suggest we ask.”
Before he had the words out of his mouth, Nelson had walked over to the closest staff member and had done just that. The nurse turned slowly, surveyed the people out in the garden, then pointed to one man standing by the roses. Nelson thanked her with a big smile and motioned in the direction of the older man.
They walked slowly, not wanting to engulf him. When they got closer, the older guy turned and frowned. Kanen stepped forward and introduced himself in English.
The old man shook his hand and then looked at Laysa. “And who is this lovely young lady?
Laysa smiled and introduced herself. “We have a few questions we’d like to ask.”
Nelson stepped forward, adding, “About blackmail years ago.”
Joseph slowly sank into his wheelchair parked beside him. He turned to Nelson and said, “If you would push me back to my room, I’d appreciate it.”
Kanen stepped forward. “Will you talk with us?”
Joseph looked up at him. It was easy to see he was visibly upset. “There isn’t anything to say. I lost a colleague—a man who I would have liked to have called a friend—but for my actions.”
“So why did you do it?”
“Because I didn’t want him to get the position I wanted,” the old man said. “I can’t believe this has come back up again. It was over and done with a long time ago.”
“But you were never charged, were you?”
The color swept out of Joseph’s skin, leaving him pasty-faced. “No. And, at this point, I wouldn’t survive a trial. I have to meet my maker over my actions. Isn’t that punishment enough?”
Laysa didn’t think so, but then it was kind of hard to know what his maker would really say to him. “Somebody had a lot of photos. He said it was his insurance policy. That’s how we came to find them. Do you have any idea who would be in possession of these photos now?”
His gaze widened. “No. I have no idea. I’d hoped they had all been destroyed by now.”
“Did you take some of the photographs originally?”
He shook his head. “No. I only took two of the prints. And I used them to get money from my colleague,” he said painfully. “I’ve paid for that decision for the remainder of my life. Everything went wrong from that moment on. I lost my wife, and I lost my son. I sit here all alone.”
“Where did you get the photos?”
His lower lip trembling, he said, “Honestly, a bag was at a bus stop one day. I sat beside it and noticed the photos inside. Nobody seemed to be around, so I picked out a couple to look at. They were of my friend. We were friends at the time,” he explained. “I wanted to get a closer look at the rest of the photos, but a man came rushing toward me and snatched the bag. I didn’t see his face. What he didn’t know was I still had two photographs in my hand.”
“And you used those photos to blackmail your colleague, correct?”
The old man nodded. “That’s correct, although that was a long time ago. I’d hoped the world would have forgotten it all by now. I’ve regretted it ever since.”
“How old was that man who took the bag and ran?”
He frowned. “He was young, very young.”
“And he didn’t explain where he got the photos?”
The old man shook his head. “But he had camera equipment with him, so they were probably his photos. I can’t be sure, of course, but I think he was the one taking these terrible photos.”
“And you just used his work and blackmailed your friend.” Kanen looked at the old man in disgust. “And how many other photos do you think were in that bag?”
Joseph stared, belligerence in his eyes. “I don’t know. Hundreds likely.”
The four looked at each other.
Laysa turned and, over her shoulder, said, “Thank you for the information you gave us.”
“Wait. I know the name of the company.”
She spun on her heels. “What company?”
“The photographer’s company. It was all over the bag.” Joseph smiled in triumph. “It was Finest Photos,” he said with a big grin. “Finest Photos, Ltd. See if you can find that after all these years.”
Chapter 9
As soon as they walked away from the strange older man, Laysa half whispered under her breath, “Find that company.”
“Right,” Nelson said in an odd tone. “How does that help us?”
“We should have asked him if that was on the back of the photos,” Taylor suggested. “What’s the chance that was the mark we saw rubbed off?”
“If that’s the case, then it is important,” Kanen said.
“That may be,” Taylor said, “but that doesn’t give us the answers we need.”
“But we won’t know until we take a look,” Nelson replied.
“We also didn’t ask him if he knew where the company was located,” Laysa noted. “Or anything else about it.”
“He wasn’t too cooperative at that point anyway,” Kanen said in a comforting voice. “We can find that kind of information on our own.”
“Can we?” she asked.
“Sure,” Kanen said. “We just need access to the internet.”
Taylor pulled out his phone, checked it and said, “I’ve got bars. Give me a few minutes, and I can track down something on that company.”
They walked in silence back toward the hotel. It was hard not to appreciate the beauty of their unique surroundings. The cobblestone streets absolutely amazed her with how well they fit together. She understood craftsmen did this day in and day out, but this road had to be hundreds of years old, and yet, it was still in remarkable condition. There was a ruddy, rusty red color to it that just added to the amazing color around them. The hotels and buildings alongside the road were in various bright, cheerful colors. It made her smile inside and made her forget those other thoughts in her mind for a bit.
The sun was still high, and some of the clouds whispered past, adding to the postcard-perfect picture all around her. She gave a happy sigh, plunging her hands into her pockets as she walked beside the men. “This isn’t exactly how I thought to come to Spain, but I’m so happy I finally got here,” she murmured.
Kanen silently wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her up close.<
br />
It was pretty hard to not enjoy the moment. Being close like this, her heart against his, the warmth of his body washing over hers, … it was … perfect. Did he feel the same way? Then he said something that surprised her, and it let her know maybe, … just maybe, … he did.
“Sometimes we just take the moments when they happen,” Kanen said.
Suddenly Taylor stopped. “Well, look at that. It’s a British company. It had offices all across Europe way back when. They were big-time.”
“Were?”
Taylor nodded. “Closed down in 1995, from the looks of it.”
“And their stock?” Kanen asked.
Taylor gave a shrug. “Who can tell? Have to do a little more research to figure out how and why they closed. Was it the death of the owner? Was it a business going under? Was it rendered obsolete in this digital age?”
“That probably wasn’t widespread until the year 2000 or so,” Nelson stated.
Taylor nodded and continued, “Of course the real evolution in photography came with the advance of cell phones with camera features—which again began around the year 2000 as well. Sure people still had Nikons and SLRs, but every Joe Blow could take decent photos with their cell phone.”
Kanen agreed. “Then the photography business went under. Along with the video rental businesses and many others.”
Taylor and Nelson nodded in agreement.
Taylor waggled his phone. “I’ll let Mason know. See if he can find anything on Finest Photos.”
“Sounds good. A restaurant is up ahead. Are you ready to eat?” Kanen asked everyone. He pointed to an outdoor café, just starting to fill with people.
She smiled in delight. “Oh, yes,” she said warmly. “I could really go for some nice vegetables.”
The men snickered.
“You can have your vegetables. We’ll go for the meat,” Nelson said.
“You need to have vegetables too,” she scolded with a groan.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Taylor said. “We will have plenty of vegetables. But we’ll get plenty of meat too.”
An hour later—after a bread course, a soup course, a salad course—they were seated in front of gleaming plates heaped high, hers full of sautéed vegetables with some cheesy sauce over the top and a small piece of salmon beside it. She looked at the salmon and smiled. “Seems strange to eat salmon here. Like, don’t they have any local fish from this region?”
“Sure, but they also take pride in having the best of everything,” Kanen said.
As she looked at his big platter of steak, steamed vegetables and one of the largest baked potatoes she’d ever seen in her life, she shook her head. “How can you possibly eat that much?”
He patted his tummy and smiled. “Easy. Just watch me.”
Dinner was an enjoyable affair as they all tucked into that good food and a great bottle of red wine she’d never tasted before and couldn’t begin to pronounce. She took a picture of the label in case she could find it back home.
Just as they were sipping the last of their wine over empty dinner plates, Taylor’s phone rang. He checked it and held up a finger. “It’s Mason.”
With the phone to his ear, he spoke in a quiet voice, so she could barely hear. She waited until he was done.
He hung up and looked around at the group. “There was quite a scandal before Finest Photos closed—the owner, one of the Alagarth family members, went to jail for blackmail.”
“Seriously?” Laysa asked. “Isn’t that a little too easy?”
They laughed.
“We never get easy cases,” Kanen said. “Don’t knock it when it actually happens. It’s probably the only time in the next ten years we’ll get something that’s easily solved.”
“I don’t think it’ll be quite so easily solved,” Taylor said, typing away on his phone. “Alagarth got out of jail after four years. He’d been protesting his innocence the entire time, and, within weeks of his release from jail, he was murdered.”
Laysa stared at him. “So he was innocent, goes to jail for a crime he didn’t commit, and, when he comes out, the guy who did the crime shoots him?”
“Don’t know about any shooting,” he said. “I just have news he was murdered. We’ll have to dig up the old reports to see how he was killed.”
Kanen pointed a finger at her and said, “And that is because you were thinking it was way too easy.”
The others all gave sage nods.
And she glared at them. Then, in a mocking voice, she said, “I think you guys just enjoy that this challenge continues. You all want to have this kind of drama in your lives.”
Kanen’s eyebrows shot up. “Not likely.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I can think of much better things to spend my time on.”
She snorted.
Taylor hopped up and said, “I don’t know about you guys, but I’d like to get back to the hotel and do more research on my computer instead of reading my tiny phone screen. Anything we can find before we return to England could make a big difference.”
“Is Mason still looking into Finest Photos too?” Laysa asked.
Taylor nodded. “To a certain extent, yes. But he is heading out on an op and won’t be back for four days.” He glanced over at the other two. “A trip we’re missing, by the way. He’s heading up to the Yukon.”
“Dammit, we’re missing all the fun,” Nelson said.
Taylor just chuckled. “Yeah, we’re missing the Yukon horseflies, heat and mosquitoes. While we’re sitting here in Spain in the sunshine, drinking great wines and enjoying wonderful meals.”
The other two considered that, then nodded.
“Good point.”
On that note they returned to their hotel room, where Laysa headed to the jetted bathtub, while the men sat down with their laptops open. The last thing she heard was their discussion about the method of the murder and the blackmailer’s guilt or innocence.
After her bath, she dressed, feeling one hundred times better, and stepped into the living room. “Did you guys find anything?” she asked, towel-drying her hair.
The men smiled up at her.
Kanen chuckled and patted the seat beside him. “Come and take a seat. I’ll show you what I found.”
She collapsed beside him, and he placed a laptop on her lap.
“We have copies of his court case, what was released for public viewing anyway. And we have a copy of the coroner’s report on his death. No autopsy was done. He was shot, one bullet between the eyes.”
She looked at him. “And does that mean anything?”
“It could mean many things. That’s the problem. It could mean somebody close to him shot him. It could mean it was a sharpshooter, like a sniper. It could mean somebody with a pistol had a good aim. It could also mean somebody held the gun against his head and just fired.”
“It still seems very sad,” she said. “If he spent years in jail for a crime he didn’t commit, it would have made him a very bitter person inside. He was probably motivated enough upon his release to come after the person he thought might have done this to him.”
“But why would the real blackmailer kill this guy? The case was solved in the eyes of the court and the police. It was a done deal. The guy in jail had probably been hollering about his innocence for years now. Who would listen to him now?” Kanen paused, then raised his pointer finger. “Unless the guy released from jail had some proof. If he had that, likely the confrontation ended with the real blackmailer now being a murderer.”
“Was anybody ever charged with his murder?” she asked.
“No. The case went cold and is, to this day, unsolved.”
*
Kanen agreed with her totally. But how did one find a murderer from an old crime like that? He sat back and contemplated their options. “The best place to start might be to find out all we can about the owner of Finest Photos. About his family, those closest to him back then. If he had any close business associates, female companions, or, if he was gay, a male c
ompanion. The murder itself wasn’t difficult to enact, so either sex could have shot him.”
She stared at Kanen in surprise. “Why is it I never even thought the original blackmailer could be a woman?” she asked. “Because that makes total sense. No way in hell she would go to jail. So it was much better to set him up.”
That made the men laugh.
“Watch out for her, Kanen,” Nelson said. “She’ll make sure you go to jail before her.”
Laysa shrugged. “I can’t imagine either of us ending up in jail. Now you on the other hand …” she said with an evil grin. “Somebody might just blame you for something, and you’ll find yourself behind bars.”
He gave her a mock look of fear.
She rolled her eyes and went back to the laptop. “So we need to know all of the above information, plus his personal relationships. Did he have any family? Maybe he has a brother he was in business with. Maybe something else was going on,” she said.
“He had a brother and a son,” Taylor announced from his laptop. “Heavily involved in the business, both of them. Disappeared from public eye after the sentencing. Then it’s tough on the remaining family members when someone is jailed. Although, in this case, he protested his innocence constantly—apparently.”
“What about names?” Laysa asked. “Same last names, different names, any grandchildren? The guy who accosted me in my own place would be younger, I presume.”
“How young?” Nelson asked.
“Anywhere from twenty-five to forty-five,” she admitted. “I know that’s not very definitive, but it’s hard to tell when the guy wore a mask.”
“Close enough. It gives us a range,” Taylor said quietly. “The owner’s wife died while he was in prison. She had heart issues. Seems the son married, had a son.”
“We have Grandpa Alagarth, who was killed, a brother who is potentially alive, a son who is alive, and a grandson who is alive, correct?” Kanen asked. “What are their ages?”
“Give me a minute.” Taylor tapped away. “Okay. Give me more than minute. I’ll get back to you on that.”
“Or,” Nelson offered, “I’ll take over finding the DOBs. You handle Kanen’s next questions.” Nelson grinned like he was getting the better end of this deal.
