“So, you were with her on one of your weekends.” Detective Jones stated the obvious.
“Yes, I was. But I’m not much of a sailor. Ms. Beeman had a wonderful time learning about sailing from the crew and making meals with the chef. I stood at the rail most of the time.”
“So, you were upset that she ignored you?” Brandon Novak observed.
“No, I was glad she had a good time despite the fact I turned out to be a terrible host.” Adam drew his breath in. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize they thought he had something to do with whatever they were hedging about.
“How did she get back if you left her there?” Ed raised an eyebrow with the question.
“She sailed back on the schooner. She owns her own catering business. She really hit it off with Gerold, the chef. I’m sure they probably spent the day together on the island, and then sailed home either last night or this morning.” Adam didn’t like the way the questions were going. His stomach whirled with trepidation. Had something happened to Janice? He hoped not. The last time he had seen her, she’d been so happy.
“This time you were jilted?” Detective Novak asked. The two were back to fielding questions back and forth.
“No, I would have had to have a relationship with the woman to be jilted. We had only met a couple of times before the trip. We didn’t get a chance to get to know each other. She assured me that she had a wonderful time on the way to Nassau. She was happy and I was happy for her. I was also very happy to be able to call Jamie to fly in to get me. I did not want to step foot on that boat again. Janice said she would call me to let me know how things were going with her and Gerold. I wished her the best and then that was the last time I saw her or heard from her. She never called.” Adam felt he had explained enough. He wasn’t going to say anything more until he found out what had happened. Then he went still when he remembered what they had said when they first arrived. “You said there was another suspicious murder—was it Janice?”
“Yes,” Ed said.
Dread raced down his spine and with a sick acid swirling in his gut, he asked, “What happened?”
“We are not at liberty to discuss it, but it seems we have another one of ‘Mr. Romance’s’ women dead. What can you tell us about your whereabouts this afternoon?” Brandon asked.
“I was visiting Katie, to see how her trip with her mother went.”
“Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it, Eddie?”
“Yes, it is. Seems his assistant is always there to give him an alibi. Sounds a little planned, doesn’t it?” Ed seemed to ignore his partner’s use of a nickname. By the tightening of Ed’s jaw, the name wasn’t one he relished.
“Now, wait one damn minute. I haven’t done anything wrong.” Adam swallowed. What in the hell was going on here? “I wasn’t alone with Katie, her friend Dottie was there. I don’t know her last name, but I’m sure you can get it from Katie. It’s terrible about Janice, but I didn’t wish her any ill will. Maybe if you gave me some details, I could help figure out if there really is a connection to me.”
“Sorry, confidential, as we said before. Do you have any more weekend plans?” Detective Novak asked.
“Yes, I leave next Friday.”
“Well, you might want to put your plans on hold. If we find more evidence that leads us to you, you’ll be staying in the New York Jail—not exactly what you’re used to, I’m sure.” Ed had a twinkle in his eye as if he relished the picture of him behind bars.
“You won’t. As with Cynthia, I didn’t have anything to do with her death. It’s just a horrible coincidence that I happened to know them both.”
“And that you had just got back from a weekend tryst with both of them,” Brandon couldn’t resist adding.
“Neither one of them were a ‘tryst,’ as you put it.”
“Just stay close so we can find you.” The two detectives turned and left without another word, opening the door and then shutting it behind them with a bang.
Adam walked back to his living room and headed straight for the bar. Pulling some scotch from the cabinet, he poured himself a good measure and threw it back. The burning liquid made a hot trail down to the pit of his stomach, where it seemed to boil. He felt sick at the thought of Janice’s life snuffed out. She had been so young and beautiful, full of life and enthusiasm. He pictured her helping one of the crewmates with the sail, the blue sky as a backdrop. Her smile had been brighter than the sun. Sighing, he went to the couch and sat down on the end where the phone sat on the table. Picking it up, he dialed Katie’s number.
* * * *
“What do you think?” Brandon asked Eddie when they got back to their car.
“I don’t know. He really did seem surprised when we told him. I just can’t picture the guy killing both of them. I know Ted Bundy didn’t seem the type either.”
“Let’s go talk to his assistant and see if she can corroborate his story.”
“You know he’s probably already called to alert her we’re on our way,” Ed said.
“Yeah, I know, but he didn’t really say much other than he had been at her place and she had her friend there. I hope we’ll find no friend.”
A few minutes later, the two knocked on her door. Then an angry woman poked her head out of the next-door apartment. “Will you stop all that racket? That’s all that’s been going on today, people hammering on Katie’s door.”
“Sorry, ma’am,” they both replied in unison. Then before they had time to turn back, Katie’s door swung open.
“I’ve been expecting you two. Come in.” Katie gestured for them to enter. She stepped to let them by, then turned to Dottie still sitting comfortably on the couch, and a little tipsy. “This is my friend Dottie. Both of you have a seat.”
The two detectives sat on the side chairs indicated and waited for Katie to take her place at the couch. When she settled into the cushions and began to absently pat the mangy dog’s head that sat between the two women, they began their questioning.
“Where were you about four this afternoon, Ms. Sinclair?” Brandon asked.
“I was asleep on my couch, I think. You’ll have to excuse Dottie and me, we’ve been having a little girl talk since Mr. Russo left and I’m afraid we’re both a bit tipsy.” Katie hiccupped loudly, then slapped a hand over her mouth, rolling her eyes at Dottie.
“When did Mr. Russo and your friend here arrive?” Ed asked.
“You know, you two are good at that.” Katie giggled at the joke only she seemed to be in on.
“Good at what, Ms. Sinclair?” Brandon asked.
Katie pointed at him then giggled again. “That!”
“Exactly what are you trying to say, Miss?” Ed asked.
“I think you guys are so used to doing the switch, you don’t even realize you do it.” Katie put her hand over her mouth, Brandon thought maybe to stop another fit of the giggles. “You shoot questions out one after another, but take turns. First Detective Novak will ask, then after the question is answered Detective Jones jumps in before the questionee has any time to think. Is that a word? ‘Questionee’?”
“Well, it is a technique we…” Ed started to explain.
“Doesn’t matter.” Novak interrupted. “Now, Ms. Sinclair, we don’t have time to chitchat. Please answer the question.” Brandon Novak brought the conversation back to their business.
“What question?” Katie wrinkled her forehead in confusion. “Did you ask a question?”
Brandon took a deep breath. This wasn’t getting them anywhere. They needed to wait until these two were sober. “Look, I think it’s best if we talk tomorrow. Ms. Sinclair, we will be at your office first thing in the morning. Ms…” He looked at Dottie and waited for her to fill in her last name.
“Dorothy Emerson—here’s my card,” Dottie said. She tried to sound professional, but failed when a hiccup escaped before she could stop it.
“Thank you, I’ll be giving you a call,” Brandon said. The two men stood to take their leav
e. When they reached the door, Brandon paused and turned back. “Ms. Emerson, I would advise that you call a cab if you intend on returning home tonight. Or stay here.”
* * * *
After the two left, Katie looked at Dottie and, before they could stop, they both giggled. Oscar must have decided he didn’t want to be around them, and jumped off the couch, stuck his nose in the air, and walked into the kitchen. That started a whole new round of giggles.
* * * *
Adam sat at his desk looking out the window, watching the sunrise over the New York skyline. He hadn’t been able to sleep. Images of Janice happily racing around the boat had kept him awake. Finally admitting defeat, he had gotten out of bed, made some coffee, and decided to come into the office to get some work done. Katie was due into the office in a while and he was anxious to hear how her interview with the detectives had gone.
In his opinion, his connection with the two victims was just a coincidence. He hadn’t wished either of them harm and it couldn’t be a jealous old girlfriend because he didn’t have any—that he knew of, anyway. He’d racked his brain to find a connection between himself and the murders, but he just couldn’t find one. Although his weekends hadn’t turned out as planned, they hadn’t been anything that would cause him to wish either one harm. Since he wasn’t the murderer, that didn’t matter.
He heard the door open in the other office, so he stood and walked to the door to greet Katie. When he saw her putting her things in her desk, he knew she wasn’t feeling her best. She moved slowly, as if any sudden movements might make her head burst. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her glasses perched on her nose. She dressed for comfort and definitely not style.
“Hey, did the detectives upset you that bad?”
Katie jumped, and then winced as she turned toward Adam. “Dottie stayed over and we drank the rest of the wine after you left. I’m paying the piper this morning. Red wine, if I have too many glasses, will give me a headache.”
“I’m sorry. I know how that is. I’ve been there myself a few times.”
“You mean the great ‘Mr. Romance’ hasn’t built up a tolerance for wine? I would assume you never get sick, unless it’s on a boat.” She gave him a smile, then winced again. “I wished the little hammers inside of my head would stop hammering.”
“Sorry.” Adam tried to put as much sympathy in his voice as possible. “Don’t keep me in suspense any longer, tell me what happened with the detectives.”
“I’m afraid they didn’t find us in any condition to answer questions. I think we just giggled a lot. They left warning Dottie not to drive and said they’d talk to both of us today. I’m surprised they aren’t here waiting for me.”
Before Adam could reply, the door opened and the two detectives walked in. Frowning when they saw Adam in the room, they turned to Katie.
“Is there a place where we could ask you a few questions in private?” Detective Novak asked.
“I need to run an errand. You can have the office to yourselves.” Adam walked back into his office and grabbed his coat. He gave them all a salute as he left.
Chapter Thirteen
“Good, now there’ll be no interruptions,” Detective Jones said.
“Looks like you’ve recovered from last night,” Detective Novak added.
“Yes. What would you like to ask me? I’m afraid I have a lot of work today.” Katie gave a pointed glance at the files on her desk, though most didn’t need work, just filing, but they didn’t need to know that.
“Where were you yesterday afternoon about four?” Jones wanted to know.
“Let’s see, the plane landed about noon, so by the time the cab dropped me off the time must have been about two. I didn’t leave, so I was home at four.”
“And when did Mr. Russo and Ms. Emerson arrive?” Novak asked.
“I don’t know the exact time. I came in, dropped my packages on the couch, sat down, and put my feet up. Then drifted off to sleep. The knock on the door woke me up. It was Mr. Russo, then Dottie arrived a few minutes later.”
“It could have been after four when they arrived?” Detective Jones asked.
“No, I didn’t sleep for two hours on my sofa. I felt as if I had just drifted off. Any longer, I would have been stiff since I was not in a comfortable position.”
“But there is no way to be sure?” Detective Novak asked. The two were back to fielding questions back and forth.
“No, I guess there isn’t, but I do know I looked at the clock when Mr. Russo left and the time was around five and he’d been there longer than an hour, I’m sure.”
“But again, you’re not positive,” Detective Jones said.
“No, I’m not sure. I didn’t know I’d have to account for anything. What happened to poor Ms. Beeman? Mr. Russo told me last night when he called to let me know you two were on your way, that she had been murdered.”
“You weren’t too drunk to remember he called. I’d think you’d have your stories and times straight this morning,” Detective Novak accused.
“I remember everything about yesterday. I wasn’t drunk. I was a little tipsy. And we have no need to get our stories straight. I’m being honest. I didn’t keep track of the time yesterday,” Katie said in exasperation.
Adam walked in with a newspaper under his arm before the detectives could comment.
“Katie, everything okay? You look upset.”
“I’m fine. I believe the detectives are finished, correct?” Katie glared at the two. They were making her feel as if she’d done something wrong.
“Yes, for now. We’re on our way to question Ms. Emerson and we’ll see if she can give us a better timeline.” Detective Jones stood to take his leave along with his partner.
“What do you mean ‘timeline’? You didn’t ask me anything about what time I was at Katie’s, you just asked me where I was yesterday afternoon,” Adam said.
“Are you sure? Yesterday when we were at your home, you didn’t tell us what time you arrived at your assistant’s apartment?” Detective Novak was busily going through some papers. “I can’t believe I’d overlook an important detail like that.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Adam said.
“Okay, then what time did you arrive at Ms. Sinclair’s home?” Detective Jones asked.
“Brady, that’s my driver, dropped me off at approximately three in the afternoon and I believe he picked me up sometime around five. Katie, Dottie, and I had a few glasses of wine and visited,” Adam explained.
“Only a few,” Detective Novak muttered under his breath.
“What?” Adam and Katie asked at the same time.
“And your driver can corroborate the times?” Detective Novak ignored their question.
“Yes, he keeps a log. I write off the gas when I’m on business.”
“So, yesterday was business?” Detective Jones asked.
“No, but he makes a log just the same, and my accountant is the one who determines what can be used.”
“Where can we find your driver for questioning?” Detective Novak asked.
“Here’s his number.” Adam grabbed a piece of paper from Katie’s desk and jotted it down for them.
“Thanks, we’ll talk to him also, and take a look at the log. And if we think the numbers have been tampered with, we’ll take the log in to be analyzed.”
The detectives left the office without further comment, leaving Katie wondering what would be next.
“Well, can’t say it’s been a fun morning,” Katie commented.
“Neither can I.”
“Adam, what do you think is going on?”
“I think it’s a coincidence. They won’t tell me any details, so the only thing I know is two women I’ve spent time with recently have been murdered. That’s my only connection to the two—there isn’t any other explanation.”
“Are you going to postpone your trip this weekend with Nan Thomas?” Katie tried to keep the hope out of her voice.
“With e
verything going on, I really hadn’t thought about Nan. Maybe I should reconsider my plans. I don’t want to take the chance this really has something to do with me and cause her any harm. On the other hand, am I never to go out again?”
“Hard question. Maybe you should just step back for a couple of weeks to see what happens.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll call Ms. Thomas and tell her something has come up and we need to postpone our trip for a few weeks.” Adam went into his office and shut the door for privacy. He felt relief that he wouldn’t be taking Nan out. Maybe he wouldn’t postpone, but cancel it all together. Then when the two murders were solved, he’d see where dating Katie would take him.
Adam picked up the phone after he searched and finally found Nan’s number. He pressed the button speakerphone so he could stand and pace, a habit he’d gotten into when he discovered he thought better while on his feet. After a few rings, a women’s voice floated out of the speaker.
“May I speak with Ms. Thomas, please?”
“Speaking,” the voice said.
“Hi Nan, this is Adam Russo, how are you?”
“Oh Adam, I can’t tell you how excited I am with the plans your assistant sent over. I’ve gone out and splurged for the occasion. Not only am I fascinated with trains, I’ve always wanted to take a trip on one. The bonus is I haven’t been on a vacation for years, and it’s overdue. And you outdid yourself with the extra plan to go to Mount Rushmore.”
“I’m glad you’re so excited. I aim to please. I just wanted to call and finalize the details. Brady, my driver, and I will pick you up early Friday morning. I’ll be getting back from Detroit on Thursday evening. I’ve got a busy week and didn’t want you to think I forgot about our weekend.” After hearing her enthusiasm, he didn’t have the heart to cancel. Besides, he knew the two murders were coincidence. Nan Thomas would be fine.
“Well, how did she take the news?” Katie said from the doorway, startling Adam out of his thoughts.
Martinez, Mary - Classic Murder: Mr. Romance (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 14
