Murder at Midnight

by Kathi Daley

  “How’s Jason doing?”

  “He’s awake and can move his legs, which is good, but he’s suffering from tingling in his feet as well as short-term memory loss. I haven’t seen him yet, but my parents assure me he’s on the mend and will be fine with time.”

  “They catch whoever shot him?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet. Justin and the guys are working on it and my dad and I are following up on some leads, but so far nothing has popped. I just hope we can track down the person who did this before they fade into the woodwork.”

  “I hear ya.” Brody held up his empty beer bottle. “Unlike you, I have to work tomorrow, so I’m going to see to the horses and then head in. If you’re still here tomorrow when I get home from work I’ll help you with the decorating.”

  “Thanks, Brody. I appreciate it.”

  He stood up, then turned back to me. “Oh, I wanted to let you know, I officially told Mitch I’m going to take leave until mid-December, so no one will need to give up hours or be laid off.”

  “So, Luke’s definitely going to be gone until then?”

  Brody nodded. “I spoke to him today and he said he worked it out with his dad to stay until he’s on his feet again. According to what his doctor told Luke, he’s looking at a minimum of a month’s pretty intense therapy. Luke said he felt better about having me help for such a long period of time if he were paying me. I figured given the layoff situation it was just as well. My last day at the resort before my leave is Monday.”

  I forced a smile. “Good. I’m glad it all worked out, and I’m sure Makena is relieved to know her job is safe.”

  “’Night.”

  “Good night, Brody.”

  I felt a tear in the corner of my eye as I watched him walk away. If Luke was definitely staying in Texas until mid-December I wondered why he didn’t call to fill me in. Perhaps he was afraid I’d start crying, which would make it more difficult for him. The last thing I wanted to do was make things harder on anyone in my life, but it seemed that had been exactly what I’d been doing. But no more, I decided. If Luke needed space I’d give him space, and if Alana needed her kids to be in life vests I’d be darn sure to put them in life vests.

  “You guys want to go for a walk?” I asked the three dogs.

  They all began jumping around, which I took to indicate consent. It was already dark, so I grabbed a flashlight and set out along the well-worn trail that led to the top of the bluff. The stars certainly were beautiful. A flash of light streaked across the sky just as I reached the top of the bluff. I closed my eyes and made a wish. I’m normally not one to get sappy and sentimental over myth and folklore, but in that moment I really did hope the star would carry my wish to Luke, and that he and I would be wishing on the same shooting star.

  Chapter 7

  Sunday, October 29

  I managed to get a good portion of the decorating done before I needed to head over to my parents’ to meet up with my dad. I could already tell the house was going to look awesome. I wished Luke could see it, but it looked like that wasn’t going to be the case. I’d called and left a long, upbeat message for him that morning, letting him know I was staying at the house, the dogs and horses were all doing great, and we all loved and missed him but understood that his priority was elsewhere right now.

  He called back while I was in the shower and said he was sorry we kept missing each other but that he’d call me at noon my time. I then had to call him back and leave yet another message, saying I would be having lunch with my dad and then we’d be following up on a few leads, so could he please call me after five my time. I knew that would be ten his time, which should work out because he ought to have completed his obligations for the day by then.

  I greeted my mom and the kids, then headed to my dad’s office. He was in the middle of making some notes and held up one finger until he was done.

  “I’m a little early,” I started off.

  “Actually, that works out perfectly. I just got off the phone with Antonio Gomez, the pool guy Ms. Hatfield mentioned. He’s agreed to answer any questions we have if we come to the house where he’s working this morning. It’s on the way.”

  “Great. Were you ever able to track down Fritz Meyers?”

  Dad stood up, opened his desk drawer, and took out his car keys. “I gave his name to Justin. I have no reason to believe he’s still on the island, and given the limited amount of information we have to go on, I doubt we’d find him without the department resources.”

  “It seems he might have had something to do with Roxanne Bronwyn’s death, although I can’t see how he would be involved in the Cramers’.”

  “If he was a con man, as Phillip Orson suggested, he might be. Maybe he was running a scam on multiple families in the neighborhood.”

  Dad had a point. I hadn’t thought about it that way. “What about Craig Newton? I remember he was on our list.”

  “He was a friend and sometime business partner of Clifford Cramer’s. These days he owns a development company. I called his office and set up an appointment for this afternoon. I figured we’d meet with Antonio, have lunch with the guys, and then head over to see Newton.”

  “It seems you have everything under control.”

  Dad glanced at me. “You seem surprised.”

  I smiled. “Not at all.”

  The home where Gomez was working that morning was a nice but not overly extravagant one. Dad had been instructed to head around to the back when we arrived. Upon entering the yard, my suspicion that, based on his name and job description, he would be both hot and Latin, was confirmed. If Antonio Gomez was providing services on the side I could see why the women who employed him were lining up to take advantage of that.

  “You made it.” Antonio smiled.

  “Your instructions were very clear. This is my daughter, Lani,” Dad said.

  I almost fell into the pool when the shirtless man took my hand in his, turned it over, and kissed my palm. “I am honored to meet such an enchanting young woman.”

  “I’m happy as well.” Happy as well? There was no doubt about it: the guy was good. I loved Luke, but suddenly, I found myself wishing I had a pool in need of cleaning.

  “How can I help you?” Antonio asked.

  “As I indicated on the phone, we had a few questions we hoped you could answer,” Dad responded.

  “I will do my best if you don’t mind talking while I skim.”

  “I don’t mind at all,” Dad replied.

  Antonio picked up his skimmer and returned to his work while Dad and I walked along behind him.

  “How long have you been in the pool-cleaning business?” Dad asked.

  “Eight years. I started working for my uncle when one of his employees quit, but I found the industry to be much more entertaining than I could have imagined and I have since bought him out.”

  “And did you work in the Aloha Heights neighborhood five years ago?”

  “Sí .”

  “Do you remember having a customer named Anastasia Cramer?”

  “Sí . Ana was more than just a customer. She was a friend as well as a lover. It was a tragedy when she turned up missing.”

  “I hoped you might know something about her disappearance, considering you were a regular part of her life at the time.”

  Antonio paused and looked at my dad. “I wish I could help you to find out what happened to Ana, but I’m afraid I know very little.”

  Antonio turned back around before leaning over to fish a leaf from the pool, causing his jeans to ride low. I must have gasped because my dad shot me a funny look before he continued his questioning. “Sometimes a little is enough.”

  Antonio once again stopped what he was doing and turned toward my father. “Ana was worried during the final weeks we were together. She wouldn’t say what was weighing on her mind, but I got the feeling her husband was in some sort of trouble and had pulled her into that trouble along with him. After she disappeared I heard he had killed her
, although I never thought that was the case. Cliff was a weak man and Ana was a strong woman. If there was going to be any killing in the marriage it would more likely have been the other way around.”

  “Do you think either one had a motive to kill the other?” Dad asked.

  Antonio put his hand to his chin. His dark brown eyes looked thoughtful as he considered the question. “I want to say no, but there was something. The couple were well matched. They both had affairs and neither cared, yet they seemed to share a deep affection. I won’t go so far as to say they were wildly in love with each other, but they had a deep friendship. As I said, there seemed to be some sort of a problem at the time of Ana’s disappearance, but no, I never believed Cliff was responsible for it.”

  “What about Roxanne Bronwyn?” Dad asked. “Do you believe Cramer could have killed her?”

  “Sí ,” Antonio said without hesitation. “Roxanne was not at all as hot-blooded as my Ana. Personally, she left me cold, but Cliff seemed to be enamored with her. More than that, I think he was in love with her. The problem was, Roxanne was only in love with herself. She played with men like Cliff, but she never gave any of them her heart. When the mouse taunts the cat, the mouse should expect that eventually the cat will attack. While I don’t know that Cliff killed Roxanne, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out it was true.”

  “Is there anyone else you can think of who might be able to fill in some of the blanks in what was going on in Anastasia Cramer’s life prior to her disappearance?” I asked.

  “You should speak to Eric.”

  “Eric?” I asked.

  “Her tennis instructor.”

  “Would this be a tennis instructor with benefits?” I asked.

  “Sí . You will find Eric at the country club near the Cramer home.” Antonio picked up his skimmer once again. “I should get back to work. I hope you find your answers. Ana will always hold a piece of my heart.”

  Dad thanked him for his time and we left.

  “What did you think?” Dad asked as we got back into the car.

  “I think I need to move into a house with a pool.”

  Dad raised a brow.

  “I’m kidding, of course. But it didn’t seem to me that Antonio was hiding anything. I don’t think he’s guilty of killing any of the three victims, nor do I think he knows who is, but he did make an interesting point about Cramer dragging his wife into his troubles. I wonder what sort of trouble that was.”

  “I’d like to find out myself. Right now we need to meet the guys. Maybe if we have time this afternoon we can look in to the Cramers’ financial history. From what I’ve heard Clifford Cramer was loaded, but if there were problems with their finances I could see how that would create problems in the marriage.”

  “Do you have access to things like financial records?” I asked.

  “No directly, but I know a guy who does. You can’t be a cop for more than thirty years and not stack up a lot of valuable connections.”

  By the time we arrived at Callahan’s our sleuthing partners were already waiting for us. Aside from the reason Dad and I were working together, I was having the time of my life. He’d always been a fine father while I was growing up, but I’d often felt he’d left the parenting of his only daughter to my mother. I’d always dreamed he’d one day see me as more than just a girl and want to spend time with me, but he never had. For the first time in my life I felt like he was seeing me as a person, not just a little princess who showed up at the end of a long line of strong and capable sons.

  I sat down between my dad and Woodson and grabbed my menu, focusing my attention on it as I tried to block out the extremely racy joke Thomas was telling. I wanted to be one of the guys, so I couldn’t react with disdain to this guy-type humor; despite feeling I was blushing from head to foot, I didn’t say a word. The waitress came over, bringing the guy talk to an end. I tried a burger today and my dad had a salad, which surprised me. Mom was always nagging at him to eat more salads and less beef, and he was forever arguing that he’d rather die young than die hungry. Maybe he liked salads after all, or maybe he was afraid I’d tattle on him if he ordered pizza two days in a row.

  “What do we know?” Dad asked after we’d ordered.

  “Well, I want to go on record as saying Veronica Quinn is hot,” Thomas began. “And when I say hot I don’t mean summer-afternoon hot, I mean surface-of-the-sun hot.”

  “Is there a point to all this heat?” Dad asked.

  “Yes, there is. Veronica was Anastasia Cramer’s personal trainer for almost three years. During that period she met Mrs. Cramer at her home; apparently, the Cramers had a home gym. Veronica said her conversations with her were centered on training, diets, and the hunk the lady of the house was currently hooking up with.”

  “We have reason to believe the pool boy, Antonio Gomez, was the hunk during one or more of those months,” Dad told them. “Did the personal trainer mention any other names?”

  “She claimed there was some sort of client/trainer confidentiality, so she wasn’t at liberty to provide specific information, though she did say that in the weeks before Mrs. Cramer turned up missing, there was discord between her and her husband. Veronica didn’t know all the details, but apparently, Cramer had gotten himself into some sort of hot water and wanted his wife to use her sexual prowess to get him out of it. She told Veronica that while she was usually up for some fun and games, the man her husband wanted her to cuddle up with gave her the heebie-jeebies and she wasn’t comfortable with the whole thing.”

  “Did Mrs. Cramer provide any information about the guy she was uncomfortable with?” I asked. “Nickname, description, residence, job?”

  “All Veronica would say was that he had a lot of influence as well as a lot of money. I had a feeling she knew more but was afraid. Before I left she warned me to watch my back.”

  I hoped that when Dad and I spoke with Craig Newton that afternoon he’d be able to give us the name of this person Cramer had been doing business with.

  “Okay, Woodson, you’re up,” Dad said.

  “I spoke to Darlene Porter, who’s a masseuse. She didn’t have a single good thing to say about either Cramer. She said the only reason she continued to provide massages to the couple was because they gave her a huge tip each time, and she was just getting started and needed the money.”

  “Why didn’t she like them?” I asked.

  “She said they were demanding and verbally abusive. They even tried to get her involved in a threesome at some point, but she turned them down. When they called for their next appointment she told them they’d have to find someone else, at which point they both apologized and offered her a huge bonus to come back. From that point on they were still mean but no longer inappropriate.”

  “Did she seem to know about anything that was going on in the household or with the couple that could have led to them ending up in the deep freeze?” Dad asked.

  “She said there was a man. She didn’t get his name, but one day he arrived as she was leaving. Mrs. Cramer looked very unhappy and uncomfortable when he showed up on her doorstep. She told him her husband wasn’t home and he said he wasn’t there to see him. Darlene got a strange vibe, and even though she didn’t like Mrs. Cramer at all, she almost didn’t leave. But Mrs. Cramer said everything was fine, that she’d see her next week. Darlene never saw either of the Cramers again.”

  Dad’s eyes got big as he sat forward. “Did she give a description?”

  “Tall. At least six-five. He was thin as a rail and had dark eyes, short dark hair, large ears, and a gold tooth one off from the center on the right.”

  “Sounds pretty specific,” I commented.

  “He gave her the creeps, so he made an impression.”

  “Do you think she’d work with a sketch artist?” Dad asked.

  “I asked her that, but she said no. She has an eight-year-old daughter to think about and the guy looked like the kind of person you don’t want to get involved with in any way, s
hape, or form. I told her that we’d keep her name out of it, but she said she worked with the police once before, after witnessing a rape, and they kept pressuring her to do more and more. First, they wanted her to provide a description, then they wanted her to pick the guy out of a lineup. When she’d done that the DA began pressuring her to testify. She said she’d learned her lesson and swore never to become involved as a witness again. To be honest, I was surprised she told me as much as she did. I told her I was retired HPD right up front. She told me I reminded her of her grandfather.”

  Thomas laughed out loud at that.

  “Kekoa is a really good artist,” I commented. “Maybe we can ask Darlene if she’ll provide a description to the two of us in the privacy of her own home. We aren’t cops and we can promise her we won’t bring her name into it.”

  “Have Gramps ask her,” Thomas said. “Maybe he can soften her up with a peppermint. My granny used them to bribe me when I was a kid.”

  “Very funny,” Woodson responded. “But I’d be happy to talk to her again on your behalf if Kekoa agrees to the plan.”

  “I’ll call her as soon as we’re done here.”

  “Okay. McCarthy, you’re up,” Dad said. “It looks as if you’ve had a trim since yesterday, so I’m going to assume you were able to speak to Carrie Silverton.”

  “I did, but she claimed not to know a thing. Mrs. Cramer came in twice a month for a touch-up on her roots and a blowout, but, unlike with most of her customers, the two never talked. She said Mrs. Cramer brought her phone and texted the entire time she was there, except when her head was in the shampoo bowl.”

  “Did you believe her?” Dad asked.

  “I didn’t get the feeling she way lying. I guess I can speak to some of the other hairdressers in the salon to see what they have to say about it.”

  “If we need to. For now, let’s see if we can get the masseuse to talk to Kekoa. Several people have mentioned that Clifford Cramer was involved with a man who made his wife uneasy. It sounds like the man Darlene saw could be the one. Lani and I have a meeting with Craig Newton this afternoon. Hopefully, by this time tomorrow we’ll know more than we do today.”