“I think you should change your flight,” she advised. “Push it off at least a day.”
“What? Why?”
“You need to tell the police what you told me.”
“I have a job lined up. I can’t stay here.”
“I think you’ll have to,” said Kate sternly.
“And why’s that?”
“Because I’m going to inform the police anyway. They’ll need to speak with you.”
“Gee, thanks a lot!” she said, springing from the bed and throwing her hands up.
“If Elaine was your friend—”
“She was!” she blurted out.
“Then I’m sure you’ll have a vested interest in making sure the right person is put away for it.”
Marcy sighed as though she didn’t have the energy to argue. “Fine,” she said. “Just be careful around Cat. She’s smart and highly manipulative.”
Kate assured her that she would be and gently closed the door on her way out. When she reached her truck, she climbed in and pulled her cellphone from her pocket.
Maybe Scott had cooled off and was ready to hear her explanation for why she had been at the mansion with Hans. She dialed his cellphone first, but it went straight through to voice mail. She cursed and then pulled up his office number, sending the call through.
After five rings, she almost gave up, but the line opened and Scott said, “Police Chief.”
“Scott!” she blurted out. “We really need to talk about last night.”
He sighed into the receiver and said, “Yeah, I know. I didn’t have the best reaction.”
“I hope you didn’t think I was having dinner with Hans for personal reasons.”
“I didn’t know what to think,” he admitted. “At the fundraiser, I knew he was coming onto you. I’m not blind.”
“I know you’re not blind and for the record, Hans was making me very uncomfortable.”
“I could see that, but when I found you in his dining room and wearing a dress...you never wear dresses.”
“I hated every second of it.”
“Why were you there?”
“To get him to confess that he killed Elaine Benson.”
“But that wasn’t necessary, Kate. I was on my way to arrest him. You’ve got to stop trying to fix everything all on your own. First of all, it’s extremely dangerous to do so and you know it. And second of all, I know how to do my job for Christ’s sake.”
“I know you do,” she said to reassure him. “And I know that I suspected Hans Geoffrey just as much as you did. But I have to tell you—”
“Oh, God, what now? Are you still meddling? Are you still running around town investigating even though I have the killer in police custody?”
“What evidence do you have tying Hans to Elaine’s murder?”
He sighed and admitted it was thin, but added, “I have five eye witnesses who saw Hans Geoffrey drag Elaine into the coat room.”
“Let me guess,” she said. “Your witnesses are all young woman from New York.”
“How did you know?”
“Elaine was working as an escort in a New York club. Hans brought her here with a bunch of escorts, your witnesses. I just spoke with the event coordinator, Marcy Clapton, who told me that one of those women, a girl who goes by Cat or Catherine might have had it in for Elaine. She had hooked the girl on drugs, and I believe she forced Elaine to have an overdose in that coat room.”
“Well, the girls are sticking together. No one turned on this Cat character. Everyone insisted that Hans Geoffrey did it.”
“Of course they did,” she argued. “They probably despised Hans because he was paying them to essentially prostitute.”
“Why would they kill one of their own?”
“Sacrificial lamb,” she supplied. “The ends justified the means in their eyes.”
“If you’re right, then that’s some dark business.”
“I’m heading over to the mansion now to talk to the girls.”
“Kate,” he barked. “You can’t keep doing this. Christ, the fact that I’ve never arrested you myself for interfering with a police investigation—”
“I’ve always been able to get information that the police can’t,” she pointed out. “What’s the harm in talking to them?”
“I’ll meet you there,” he said.
“The guard will never let you through the gate,” she said. “At least when I show up I can convince people that I’m there to fix a toilet or make a few repairs.”
“I don’t have to go in,” he told her. “I’ll get you set up with a wire.”
“A wire?”
“Not that I’m dying to admit it, but the wire you wore to Hans’ wasn’t a bad idea. I found it before I left this morning.”
“So you did come home last night?”
“Not to sleep. Just to change.”
“I’ll meet you there—let’s say a half mile before the entrance gate so that no one sees us.”
“Fine,” he said.
After Kate placed her cellphone on the passenger’s seat, she backed her truck out of the parking spot and swung around, driving out of the motel lot and heading east toward the mansion.
When she saw the gate of the estate coming into view in the distance, she pulled her truck onto the shoulder of the road and shifted into Park, glancing at the rear view mirror for Scott’s truck.
One of the things she loved most about him was that he could be angry and feel his feelings, but still love her. Whenever they didn’t see eye-to-eye, Scott’s biggest priority was to find a way to come to common ground. And though they’d never had a fight quite like the one that had risen thanks to her impulsive visit to Hans Geoffrey’s mansion last night, Scott had found a way to overcome his hurt and make things right with Kate, and she loved him all the more because of it.
She spied her husband’s truck flying up the road and as he veered onto the shoulder, slowing down behind her truck, she hopped out into the crisp afternoon.
Scott left his truck idling as he climbed out. He had a microphone and wire in one hand and the battery pack in the other. They met at the back of her truck and she lowered the tailgate and sat on the truck bed.
“It should be easier to hide this than it was under that dress,” she commented, as he began threading the wire under her shirt.
“Where did that dress even come from?” he asked. “It didn’t look familiar.”
“Hans sent it to the house.”
“He what?”
“I was just as surprised as you are.”
Scott eyed her for a long moment then continued clasping the microphone to her bra. “I think I’ll leave him in jail whether or not we catch the real killer,” he fumed. “Giving another man’s wife a dress—despicable.”
Kate smiled and told him she wouldn’t mind if he did.
When she hopped to the ground and flipped the tailgate up, snapping it into place, he said, “The precinct should really get you on the payroll.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve basically been working as an informant anyway. Might as well make it official and that way we could offer surveillance and protection. You know I don’t like your going off on your own.”
Kate considered the possibility, but didn’t rush to any conclusions.
“I’ll be listening right here from the truck.”
“I won’t be out of range?”
“No, you’ll be fine.” Before she could climb back into her truck, he caught her arm and said, “The medical examiner found track marks in all of the places you’d expect—inner elbows, between the toes, on the hip—places that Elaine could’ve shot up herself.”
“Okay,” she said, waiting for more.
“And he also found a track mark between her shoulder blades.”
“She could’ve never maneuvered a needle there.”
“Exactly,” he said. “So whoever you talk to in there, whether it’s Cat or some of the other girls, try to use th
e information to get a confession. And if you can find the actual syringe that would be even better, but don’t touch it, wrap it in toilet paper and bring it back.”
“Okay,” she said with a nod.
Scott smiled at her and the look on his face implied that he didn’t know what he was going to do with her. He pulled her in for a kiss, and then opened the driver-side door of her truck, helping her to climb in.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “See you soon.”
As she drove off, she checked the rear view mirror. Scott was standing beside his truck and watching her. When she came to the long and winding driveway, she pulled up to the gate and rolled her window down.
“I’m with Wentworth Contractors. Kate Flaherty. I need to check on the plumbing.”
Though the guard was different from the one she had talked to the other day, he was familiar with Wentworth and allowed her through the gate without question.
She drove on and when she reached the mansion, she parked to the right of the entrance.
She grabbed her tool kit out of the truck bed after climbing out, and as soon as she knocked on the stately door, one of the housekeepers greeted her.
“Follow up,” she said, lifting her tool kit demonstratively. “I’m from Wentworth.”
“Please come in,” said the housekeeper, who also didn’t question her unannounced arrival.
“I can see myself up to the second floor,” she explained, veering toward the staircase.
“If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask,” said the housekeeper before she trailed off through the marble foyer.
As Kate ascended the stairs, she heard female voices billowing throughout the second floor. They sounded elated, laughing and joking around and not at all concerned that their informal employer was now sitting in a jail cell across town.
Each of the second floor bedrooms had a private bathroom attached so when Kate approached a young woman in the hallway who had wavy, blond hair and wore a racy dress, she asked, “Can you direct me to Catherine’s bedroom?”
The young woman screwed her face up and gave Kate the once over. “Who wants to know?”
“The plumber,” she said dryly.
The woman called over her shoulder, shouting, “Hey, Cat, is there a problem with your toilet?”
From down the hallway, a lanky brunette peeked around the corner at them. Her eyes were dark and the particular arch to her brows made her look surprised. “Not that I know of,” she called out. “Why?”
“Some plumber lady here to look at your bathroom.”
Cat rolled her eyes and disappeared into her bedroom as though she couldn’t be bothered, but it didn’t stop Kate from walking briskly down the hallway and turning into the younger woman’s room.
The bedroom was a wreck, but that wasn’t what gave her pause. Besides Cat, there was a young lady lounging on the bed flipping through magazines and another two were on makeshift beds on the floor.
It took Kate a second to do the math, but it added up. There were only five guest bedrooms so, of course, the twenty escorts would have to sleep four to a room.
“Bathroom’s in here,” said Cat, but when she reached it, she turned on her heel. “Oh, do you mean the master bedroom? That’s where I’ve been staying.”
“You’ve been staying in Mr. Geoffrey’s room?”
A sly smirk formed on Cat’s face as she said, “He doesn’t need it.”
Kate wasn’t sure she wanted to give up being in this particular bedroom. It was a cluttered mess and if there was a syringe hiding in the bathroom or in a drawer, she didn’t want to be stuck in Hans’ bedroom. She scanned the room, but it was no use.
“It’s down this way,” said Cat, leading her out of the bedroom and up the hallway.
In order to test Cat, or perhaps provoke her, Kate said, “It looks like Hans will be released soon.”
“On bail?” she asked, snorting a laugh. “I’m not surprised. Even if the judge set it at two million, he’d be able to post it easily.”
“No,” she clarified, “because the police no longer believe he did it.”
Cat slowed her step as though she was pretending that the news hadn’t stunned her. “Who do they think did it?”
“I’m not sure, I’m only a plumber,” she said, carefully studying Cat from the corner of her eye as they entered the master bedroom.
“Well,” said Cat, shaking off whatever anxiety had formed. “I’m surprised the police think she was killed. She had a drug problem, and I read in the paper that Cherry died from an overdose.”
“She was definitely killed,” said Kate, hoping to scare her into doing or saying something revealing. “The medical examiner found a needle mark on her body that she could’ve never reached. Someone shot her up and intentionally gave her too much heroin.”
“Is that right?” she said, leaning on the bathroom doorway, as Kate set her tool kit on the tiles near the toilet. “I didn’t read about that in the paper.”
“Word travels fast in Rock Ridge,” Kate explained. “I’m sure it’ll reach the newspaper eventually...”
She lifted the lid off the toilet tank and set it on the tiles then began fiddling with the lever.
“What other rumors have you heard?” asked Cat, folding her arms.
“Well, let’s see,” she said, making a performance of splashing her hand around the tank. “The police suspect that Cherry’s dealer was behind her murder, so they’re only looking at her friends from New York.”
Cat glared at her for a long moment then asked, “Her friends? Why aren’t they looking at Taylor Rheingold or Dean Wentworth or one of the dozen men who had it in for Cherry?”
“I have no idea,” said Kate. “But from what I heard, those men all had alibis.”
Cat looked annoyed. She paced away from the bathroom and then circled back, complaining, “They could’ve bought their alibis.”
“Could they have?”
“Of course!” she blurted out, and then to cool off she did another lap. When she returned again, she stated, “It wasn’t any of her friends. None of us would do something like that.”
“Well, it might not matter if you did or didn’t. If the police suspect you, they’ll follow through and make an arrest, that’s just how it goes around here.”
“They can’t do that!”
“Can’t they? I mean, look at what they did to Hans.”
“If you ask me, Hans is guilty.”
“What makes you think that?”
“He always treated us like we were disposable,” she said.
“Has anyone else ever died while in his home?”
“Well, no,” she admitted.
Kate unfastened then refastened the lever chain. After returning the lid to the tank, she flushed the toilet to prove it was fixed.
“Who should I talk to at the police station?” asked Cat.
“You mean you haven’t spoken with them yet?”
Cat twisted her mouth to the side and said, “No, I did. But I didn’t tell them everything.”
“You can talk to the Police Chief, Scott York.”
“Ah,” she groaned, shaking her head. “No, I can’t talk to the police.”
Kate got to her feet and neared Cat. “You can tell me, and I’ll relay it to the police.”
She shook her head. “They’re just going to want to talk to me.”
“Let’s take it one step at a time,” said Kate. “Tell me what you know.”
Cat stared at her in such a way that chilled Kate.
“It’s not what I know,” she said quietly. “It’s what I found.”
The young escort led Kate through Hans’ bedroom and stopped in front of a dresser. She opened the top drawer.
Glancing down in the drawer, Kate found a syringe resting on top of some linen.
“Was this here?” she asked urgently. “I mean did you discover this syringe when you moved into this bedroom?”
“No,” she said, sounding remorsef
ul. “Cherry was my friend, and I didn’t want the cops to think she was some kind of junkie so when I saw this in the coat room after the medics rolled her away, I snatched it.”
“Did you touch it directly?”
“No, I used the hem of my dress to pick it up and drop it into my purse.”
Kate turned to her and said, “So you didn’t help her shoot up that night using this syringe?”
“No! God no! And the reason I kept it is because it’s not ours, it’s not the kind we use. Look at it.”
Kate did, leaning over the drawer and studying the syringe.
Cat explained, “See those etched markings? It says the manufacturer, right? The ones we use are different. Hans gets them—”
“Hans has been providing you guys a means to get high?”
Cat smirked, saying, “Lady, you have no idea. But he uses a medical supplier in New York. It’s a different manufacturer with a different etching on the side. Whoever forced Cherry to overdose wasn’t one of us. And if you ask me, they had access to medical supplies because they work in a hospital.”
Chapter Nine
The next day, Maxwell was right on time to babysit Josie. Kate kissed her daughter goodbye and mentioned to Maxwell that she had plans to meet Carly in the park for lunch, but he was welcome to bring Josie and join them since Carly couldn’t get enough of her goddaughter.
It wasn’t until she set off driving toward the library, where Hazel Millhouse’s repair request laid waiting in store—the rickety table legs—that she began mentally reviewing the progress she and Scott had made yesterday.
Cat had allowed Kate to take the syringe and when she’d passed it off to Scott half a mile from the mansion, he told her that she had done great work. He would run the syringe for fingerprints, cross reference the fundraiser guest list with doctors who worked at hospitals in the tri-state area, and see if he couldn’t narrow down a fresh list of suspects.
A doctor could’ve killed Elaine for any number of reasons. Perhaps she had threatened to blackmail him with photos of their time together. Or maybe the doctor had been ashamed to have spent a night with a prostitute and couldn’t move on from his transgression unless the woman was dead. Either way, soon Scott would discover the man’s identity and arrest him.
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