by JL Phillips
Before I can open my mouth to let the man have my temper full blast, Fedora steps around me.
“Hello, Mr. Ellsworth is it?”
“Yes. You are with Ms. Watson are you not?” Mr. Ellsworth does not look impressed. I keep my mouth shut. I'm curious what Fedora will do.
He magically hands Mr. Haughty his business card. Do all rich people carry those things? I have business cards too but keep forgetting to carry any with me. Mr. Ellsworth barely glances at the card.
“Is there some reason why you think Ms. Watson wouldn't enjoy staying at your fine hotel?” Fedora asks in a friendly tone.
“Well, for one thing I'm sure a private investigator can hardly afford it,” he says with a sneer. I'm surprised he knows what I do for a living. He notices my surprise.
“Yes, I know what you do Ms. Watson. I Googled you.” He looks quite proud of the fact.
“Well, since you are so up to date on the latest internet techniques, why don't you Google me also,” Fedora looks down his nose at Mr. Haughty. I know that look well, as he gave it to me when we first met. I watch Mr. Haughty to see how he takes it.
“Go on Ellsworth, we'll wait,” Fedora speaks with an ice-cold tone.
Mr. Haughty hesitates then does a few things on his computer under the desk. I can actually see his face pale as he reads what I am sure is a nice biography of Fedora and his rich family. I know what it says, as I Googled Fedora myself after our first meeting. I wait for the groveling, which I am sure, will be forthcoming.
“I'm sorry Mr. Holden. Please accept my deepest apologies for any errors I might have made.” Mr. Haughty seems to have lost a lot of his attitude in seconds. “You have to understand my position, sir, when I see Ms. Watson come into our respectable hotel two days in a row looking, well… looking as she does. You have to understand how I can come to the conclusions I did, sir.”
I almost laugh at his kiss-ass attitude. I don't like Mr. Haughty but can't say I blame him for thinking I belong in a hooker hotel. I haven't been my usual self lately.
“Maybe this will teach you not to judge people so quickly Ellsworth. Ms. Watson is a special friend of mine. You'll treat her with the respect that she deserves,” Fedora tells the man in a quiet controlled voice.
I suddenly realize this is a different side to Fedora than I have seen before. The man morphed into Robert Holden, an executive that makes multi-million dollar decisions every day.
Fedora turns his back on Ellsworth and looks at me, then grins. He winks and wiggles his eyebrows and the picture of the big-shot business owner goes right out of my head. I smother a laugh, turn and guide Angela, who has been quiet through all this, to the bank of elevators. We enter the empty one and I push the button to the fourth floor.
Fedora looks over Angela's head at me and says, “How did I do Dee? What an ass that Ellsworth fellow is!”
As the elevator opens and we step out into the hallway, I remind him, “You thought almost the same things about me when you first met me, Fedora. So what does that make you then?” I smile sweetly at him as I unlock my door.
He laughs as he walks to his door and unlocks it. “Makes me an ass too, but a rich one!”
I usher Angela into my room and close the door. The man makes me laugh when he isn't making me angry. I shake my head and turn to say something to Angela just in time to watch her eyes roll to the back of her head as she slowly crumples to the deeply carpeted floor.
Ah, crap.
Chapter Eleven
I rush over to where Angela lays on the floor. At least she didn't hit anything on her way down. Damn, now what do I do? Ok, think Dee. Cold water? Cold water helps people who have passed out, right?
I can't just pour cold water on her. I'm not good in situations like this. I look around the room and spot the washcloth. A cold washcloth should work. I saw that in a movie one time. I dampen the washcloth with cold water and kneel down next to Angela. I pat her face with it and notice her eyelids twitching.
“Come on Angela. Wake up!”
I pat her face some more. “Angela! Wake up.”
She opens her eyes. “Dee? Dee, what am I doing on the floor?”
I help her sit up, then help her stand. She leans into me as I guide her to a chair.
“You passed out. When was the last time you ate? Did those goons hurt you, Angela? You need to see a doctor or something?”
I'm feeling a bit anxious. I should have asked her before if those guys did anything to her. If they did, they are going to stay in that hole for a lot longer than a day.
“Doctor? No, no I don't want to see a doctor. I'll be all right. Maybe a glass of water?” She closes her eyes and I watch her carefully for a few seconds. I don't want her passing out again.
“Sure, I can get you a glass of water. Hang on, Angela.”
I grab a glass out of the bathroom and a water bottle from the mini fridge. I sit down across from her and hand her the glass full of water. She takes a few sips and gets a bit more color in her cheeks.
“You ok now, Angela?”
“I think so. I'm sorry I'm being such a baby. You've been through more than I have and look at you. You're not fainting or doing something stupid like that.” Angela frowns as she looks over the rim of the water glass at me.
“You're doing fine. I'm really not the fainting type, I guess,” I shrug my shoulders. “You need some food in you. When was the last time you ate?”
“I don't really remember. With Tony dying, then getting threats myself and everything else that has gone on. I think it's been a few days.”
“See, that's your problem. Even I would faint if I hadn't eaten in a few days,” I smile and try to reassure her.
No wonder she looks so bad. Probably hasn't slept much either. We'll order something to eat from room service and while Fedora, Billy and I plan our next moves, she can take a nap. Angela will be herself again in no time.
“Angela, did those guys do anything to you? They didn't touch you did they?” I hate to ask her these questions, but I need to make sure she really is all right, physically anyway.
It takes her a minute to understand what I mean. Her eyes widen and she shakily puts down the glass of water, “No! No, Dee! They never touched me like that. Sid, he's the one that gave orders to the other two, slapped me once, but that's all they did.”
Relief washes over me. I reach for the room phone, “What we need is food. I'll order room service.”
I ring the kitchen and give an order for bacon, eggs, toast and lots of coffee. I find I’m suddenly very hungry.
Tonight went well and I want to keep the momentum going for as long as possible. I want to get over to Tony's house as soon as I can. I also need to talk to Tony's daughter.
We need to find out why the deed to the Wenner place is so important. Is it really the bouillon they are after? They can find it without the deed, after all, the place is isolated enough that half a dozen men could work in the place and no one would know. Look at how many holes are already dug around the place.
What if it's not the bouillon? What if it's something else entirely? It has to be something important to whoever the top boss is if they are willing to kill for it. What can it be?
“Angela, did this Sid ever ask about the hidden bouillon? Did you hear why they want the deed so much?”
“They never mentioned the bouillon. The deed won't do them much good unless it is signed over to them or their boss. I told him that.”
“What did Sid say to that?” I would think the top guy would know this piece of information. I assume that's another reason they need Angela, to sign over the deed, so why try to kill her?
“He didn't say anything to me directly. He mostly ignored me once he found out I really couldn't tell him where the deed was.”
I was really hoping this Sid would be like most no-brain hoodlums and brag to Angela about what they wanted the deed for. Maybe Sid is smarter than I thought. It would be to my advantage not to underestimate my opponent from now
on.
“I wasn't really paying attention to much of what they talked about,” Angela says between sips of water. “The place does have a few fine antiques in the house. Once cleaned up they would be worth something. The library is also full of rare books. Old man Wenner was quite the collector I understand.”
I ponder this a moment. So what do we have? A crime boss that sends his henchmen to find the deed and are willing to kill for it. However, they are not interested in the bouillon. Everyone loves gold. At today's market, it would be worth a large fortune. So what are they really after?
The questions keep coming, but no answers…yet.
I let Angela recover from her faint and take a quick shower. I dress in the last of my clean clothes. This case has taken a toll on my meager wardrobe.
While I was in the shower, the food arrived. My stomach rumbles in anticipation, as I smell the bacon in the air. Pretending to be awakened from the dead makes me hungry. I still smile at the look of terror on Sid’s face as my ‘ghost’ pushed him in the hole.
Angela is eating a piece of toast as I sit and join her. “Sorry, Dee, I started without you. All of sudden I'm ravenous.”
Her color is better and it's a good sign that she is eating. She'll be all right. “No problem. You need the food more than I do.”
I pile some scrambled eggs on a plate with a couple of pieces of bacon and start eating. I see Tee has scored a piece of bacon from Angela and is happily chowing down. I pour Angela and me a cup of coffee and ask her a question that has been nagging me.
“If this deed is so important, that must mean the land or the house is important. If so, why didn't someone else buy the place? It was auctioned off for back taxes, right?”
“That's right. Tony heard about it through one of his realtor friends. We looked at the property and saw what potential it has for a spa and private hotel. So Tony decided to bid on it.”
“Couldn't this other person, who is so interested in the deed, have bid on it too? Couldn’t they have outbid you? If so, why didn't he do it? That makes more sense than murder.” I'm thinking aloud more than actually asking Angela questions.
Angela sits back with a cup of coffee. “It was a silent auction. No one knows what others are bidding. You just bid what you are willing to pay for the property. Obviously they didn't bid high enough.”
“So there is no way of knowing who the other bidders are?” I ask her as I sip on my own cup of coffee. It would be nice to have the names of the other bidders and see who pops up.
“Well, there might be a way actually,” Angela says with a thoughtful look on her face. “We might be able to get a list of the bidders from the realtor company that held the silent auction. Most companies are leery of giving out that information, but we can try. I know the owner of the realtor company. I'll give them a call. It doesn't hurt to ask.”
Am I finally going to get a break in this case? “Make the call, Angela. We need to find out who was so interested in this property. I think Fedora is supposed to have a list for me also. Maybe between the two lists we can figure out who is behind all this.”
I completely forgot that the main reason Fedora is here in the first place was that he had a list of names for me of other people that he knew of that were interested in the Wenner place. So many things happened so fast that it had slipped my mind and his apparently.
“I need a shower first. I'm feeling so much better, but I think a shower will make me feel like I'm alive again,” Angela states.
“Go ahead and take your shower. Then make that phone call. The sooner we find out who bid on the Wenner place the better. Then I'll talk to Tony's daughter. We only have until tomorrow morning to get some answers. Then either those guys will be out of the hole or I will call it into the authorities as I promised. So we need to act fast on this.”
Angela was halfway to the bathroom when she turns slowly toward me. “Dee? What happens when those guys are out? They are going to be so pissed off! They'll come after us, won't they?”
I glance at her and slowly set my coffee cup down on the small table. A question we both know the answer to. Yeah, they will be after our blood. “We better make sure we find that deed fast. We need to keep one-step ahead of them. Once we have the deed we'll have the upper hand,” I tell her.
“Then what, Dee?” Angela asks as she steps into the bathroom and closes the door.
“Then we try to stay alive long enough to find out who is behind this and who killed Tony and bring them to justice,” I mutter under my breath. I just hope it works out that way.
Chapter Twelve
Angela and I are sipping coffee and not talking about much when Fedora and Billy show up at my room. We agree to split up and cover as many bases as possible. I send the guys to Tony's house to see if they can do what the goons couldn't. Find the deed to the Wenner place.
I decide to visit Tony's daughter, Cynthia and see if I can get any information from her. I give her a call and she’s friendly but reserved. She’s also willing to talk to me. Angela vetoes my idea of her staying in my room to rest and ends up tagging along with me after a quick stop at her place so she can change clothes.
Angela parks her SUV in front of a large modern looking house in a gated community on the edge of town. So this is where Tony's daughter lives? Nice place. I'm curious about Cynthia Bandoni. I can clearly tell Angela doesn't like her whenever she talks about the woman. Is it jealousy over Tony?
We walk up to the front door, which opens before we get a chance to ring the bell. A nice looking middle-aged woman offers her hand to me, “I'm Cynthia Bandoni, you must be Dee Watson.”
“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice Ms. Bandoni,” I say as I shake her hand. She has a nice firm handshake. “I hope you don't mind us coming and asking you a few questions?”
“Not at all, please come in.” She gives me a small, sad smile and I watch as it disappears when she spots Angela.
“Hello, Angela.”
“Cynthia,” Angela gives a curt nod but no smile.
I wonder if it’s just jealousy over Tony or something else that makes these two women dislike each other so much. Maybe I would have been better off sending Angela with the guys. Too late now.
Tee decides to stick his head out of his satchel. I hope Ms. Bandoni likes dogs. I will be interested to see how Tee likes Ms. Bandoni, as I trust his instincts about people.
“This is Tee, Ms. Bandoni, I do hope you don't mind if he joins us.”
“Please, just call me Cynthia. Tee is as welcome as you are Ms. Watson.” Cynthia steps back and motions us to enter. I look around as she closes the door behind us. We are standing in a large foyer with stairs off to the side where I imagine the bedrooms are.
Cynthia leads us into a large room opposite the stairs where a marble fireplace and comfortable looking stuffed chairs and couch belie the modernism of the exterior of the house. There are oil paintings on the walls, one was obviously of Cynthia when she was younger and another of a striking older man.
I walk closer and see the nameplate 'Tony Bandoni'. Her father. The first time I have seen a likeness of the recently departed Tony. He was a handsome man with silver hair and green eyes. The artist captured a certain mischievousness in his smile. Too bad, he was dead. I spot the artist’s name, Cynthia Bandoni.
Even with my untrained eye, I can tell the woman has talent. It is a painting done by an artist who obviously loves the subject. Just the opposite of what I was lead to believe. Interesting.
“Would you like anything to drink, Ms. Watson? I have just made a fresh pot of coffee, or I can offer you something stronger if you prefer.” Cynthia waves us to sit down as she walks to a small table set up with a gleaming silver coffee pot and several china cups.
“Just call me Dee, Cynthia. I would never turn down a cup of coffee.” I smile at her and set Tee down on the floor next to my feet.
“Angela?” Cynthia doesn't even look at Angela when she asks.
“I'll take a scotc
h if you have it, Cynthia, as it's been a long week.” I raise my eyebrow at Angela, as in college she never drank anything stronger than a beer if that. I don't even think she knew what Scotch was back then.
“I have it,” Cynthia says curtly as she hands me my cup of coffee. Tee is wagging his tail at her, so he likes her. Cynthia bends down and gives Tee a scratch behind his ear.
“You said you have questions for me, Dee? How can I help you?” Cynthia hands Angela her drink and sits down across from me. I don't see any signs of nervousness in her. She's a very calm sort of woman.
“I'm sorry if I am disturbing you at this time Cynthia, but I've been asked to look into your father's death. Some people don't seem to think it was a suicide.” I watch for her reactions to my statement. I don't see any surprise on her face. I do see a flash of sadness in her eyes.
“My father did not commit suicide, Dee. I know he did not. He enjoyed life way too much to do something like that.” Cynthia looks me straight in the eye, “He was murdered.”
Angela is staring hard at Cynthia with the drink halfway to her mouth. I have to admit Cynthia caught me by surprise too.
“If you think your father was murdered, have you gone to the authorities?” I ask her.
“I have. They keep putting me off as a hysterical daughter. I’m not hysterical, I just know my father.” Cynthia takes a sip of her coffee with a steady hand. “Those idiots in the police department are too lazy to look into my father's death, or they are on someone's payroll.”
“What?” Angela sets her drink on the table in front of her so hard half the Scotch sloshes over the rim. “You are the one who told me I was crazy when I told you your father was murdered! Now you are saying I was right.”
Cynthia looks at Angela and frowns, “You were hysterical when you phoned me in the middle of the night yelling about murder and deeds and someone trying to kill you too. Then you accused me of being behind it!”
