Northwest Cozy Mysteries #1

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Northwest Cozy Mysteries #1 Page 36

by Dianne Harman


  Jake had no idea how Rob could find out things like that on a Sunday when the company was closed, but Jake had yet to see where Rob had made a mistake in the information he was able to obtain, often on very short notice.

  “Thanks Rob,” Jake said when he’d written down the address. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

  “I thought this was interesting,” Rob said. “He split from his wife a while back after she filed a complaint against him alleging domestic violence. The complaint was later withdrawn, and no charges were brought against him. He’s been attending anger management counseling as part of the divorce mediation process. He has one daughter, pre-school age. He’s been working in Whistler on the same ski lift project as Clark, and he sees the kid when he’s home, which isn’t that often.”

  “Great, thanks Rob. I’m heading there now,” Jake said, ending the call and turning back to where he’d parked his car.

  Jake easily found the address Rob had given him, and pulled up to the curb next to a real estate ‘For Sale’ sign. Sean’s home was in a residential neighborhood, and although the house looked a little shabby from the front, Jake thought it just needed a coat of paint and some maintenance to tidy it up. Children were playing in the street, and he heard a dog barking from a nearby backyard.

  A car was parked in Sean’s driveway, and although the shades on the front windows were down, the sound of a television blasting from inside indicated that someone was probably home. Jake rang the doorbell, and heard footsteps in the hallway. A moment later the door was opened by a good looking man wearing a Seahawks t-shirt and gray sweat pants. Jake thought he looked to be around forty, maybe a little younger.

  “Can I help you?” the man asked Jake, quickly turning his head back to hear what had caused the crowd on the television to roar.

  “Hi, I’m Jake Rogers. I’m looking for Sean Meade?”

  “That’s me,” Sean said.

  “I’m sorry to bother you and take you away from the game, but if you have a couple of minutes, I’d like to talk to you.”

  The man hesitated. “May I ask what this is about?”

  “Yes. You may have heard that a man by the name of Vinny Santora was murdered at a wedding reception last night. I understand that you were at the wedding and the reception. It was for Roz and Clark Blackstock. I’m a private investigator, and I’ve been hired to help find out what happened. I promise, this won’t take long.”

  Sean opened the door. “You’re in luck, Jake. That was the last play of the first half, so come in and we’ll talk during the break.” Jake followed him through the hallway into the living room, and Sean motioned Jake over to a chair.

  “I don’t know anything about a murder taking place,” Sean said when they were seated. “Yes, I was at the event, but I left kind of early. I’ve been here for about a week, and I’ll be going back to Whistler after the game. We’ve gotten a break on the weather, so our engineering team is going all out until the snows come, and we have to halt the project until spring.”

  “I see,” Jake said. “Sean, I understand that you work with Clark Blackstock. Can you tell me something about your relationship with him?”

  “We’ve been co-workers and friends for more than ten years, which was when I started with the company. Our friendship got waylaid recently, I’m sorry to say.”

  “Why was that?”

  “I’ve had a lot of stuff going on in my personal life. What with Clark making wedding plans and me in the middle of a divorce, it was difficult for me to stomach his happiness. Then I found out last week that Clark had been made a partner at the company, and I kind of lost it, I’m afraid.” Sean gave Jake a rueful smile. “That’s something I’m working on, my quick temper. It’s gotten me in a lot of trouble in the past.”

  It struck Jake that Sean seemed like an upfront kind of person. “Sorry to hear that.”

  “I found out about Clark’s promotion by mail,” Sean continued, “when I got back from Whistler. My mail had piled up, and I was going through it. I was really angry when I found out about it, and I simmered for several days over it. I finally decided I might as well find out why I hadn’t been notified as a courtesy, and I called the senior partner of the firm, Ted Brownsdale.” He looked over at the television to make sure it was still half-time.

  “I found out the whole thing was a big foul-up. There’s a few other things I could call it, but given I’ve just met you, I’ll leave it at that. Ted had called me at my number in Whistler, and left a message that he was naming Clark as a partner, and to let me know I was next in line on the partner list, but they thought I wasn’t quite ready yet. He said he wanted me to know about it before I read it or heard it from another source.”

  “Well, that doesn’t sound like a mix-up to me,” Jake said.

  “The problem was, I wasn’t in Whistler. I was here, taking my first break in months. Ted had instructed his secretary to have notices of the new partnership sent to all the stockholders, of which I’m one. That’s how I found out.”

  “I can certainly see why that would make you angry.”

  “You have no idea. I was ready to do anything I could to disparage Clark and make him pay for it. Once I got an understanding of the whole picture, I was going to tell him all about it at the wedding and apologize, but I never had a chance.”

  “Sean, I hate to ask this, but can anyone corroborate what time you got home last night?”

  Sean was silent for a few moments, and then nodded. “Monica, the woman who lives next door can. She’s going through a divorce as well, and we get together when I’m in town, if you know what I mean. We’re kind of friends with benefits. Last night was one of those nights.”

  They both heard the knock on the door, and Sean got up to answer it. “Good timing,” he said. “Monica said she’d be over for the second half of the game, and we could spend a little time together before I leave for Whistler. You can ask her yourself.”

  Jake heard the door open, and Sean returned to the living room followed by an attractive redhead.

  “Monica, I’d like you to meet Jake Rogers,” Sean said. “He’s going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer it truthfully.”

  Monica turned to Jake and gave him a dazzling smile. “Hi Jake. What would you like to ask me?”

  Jake looked at her clear green eyes, flawless complexion, and couldn’t help but notice she had a body that was perfect. “Monica, could you tell me what time Sean came home last night?”

  Monica looked at Sean, and her face flushed. She turned back to Jake. “He was here about 9:30 p.m. I asked him why he’d come home early from the wedding, and he told me he wanted to spend as much time with me as he could, since he was leaving for Whistler later today.”

  Observing the body language between Sean and Monica, Jake thought it was time to make himself scarce. “Thanks to both of you,” he said, standing up. “I’ll get out of your way.” He glanced at the television, where the game was just starting up again. “I’ll be rooting for the Seahawks. Don’t worry, I can let myself out.”

  On the way back to his car, Jake made a mental note that they could cross Sean Meade off the suspect list. One down, he thought, and several to go. He wanted to call Ted Brownsdale the following day just to sew up loose ends and confirm Sean’s version of events, but from what he’d just seen, he was satisfied Sean was definitely not the murderer.

  CHAPTER 13

  Located underneath a freeway viaduct, Al entered a dark, unmarked bar called Paulie’s Place, which opened at 8:00 a.m., even on Sundays. Busy with patrons from the neighborhood who worked all hours, Al knew many of them had stopped in for a beer before they’d even made it home after their night shift.

  He walked over to the bartender, nodding to a few regulars he recognized. “Rick, I know it’s Sunday, but I’m wonderin’ if Sid’s in his office.”

  Rick pushed a beer across the scarred bar towards Al. “Nah. His kid’s in a martial arts competition over in Spokane this weekend
. He won’t be back until tomorrow. Anything I can do for you?”

  Al knocked back the beer in four gulps, and let out a satisfied sigh. He set the empty bottle down on the countertop. “Theresa Larkin,” Al said. “Name ring any bells? Think she mighta’ worked here pole dancin’ a few years ago. Heard she was pretty good. I need some information about her.”

  Al followed Rick’s eyes to where a half-naked pole dancer was doing her moves for the early Sunday morning drinkers sitting at tables around the small stage. “Inez knows her,” Rick said, nodding towards the gyrating woman with one leg around the pole and the other high in the air. “I heard her talking about Theresa just a while ago. I think they still meet up pretty regularly. If you want to stick around and talk to her, Inez will be on her break in a little while,.”

  “Sure,” Al said, “I’ll wait. Hit me up with another beer, will ya? Night I’ve just had, I need it.”

  Rick did as he was directed, and Al sat on a bar stool, nursing the bottle. “Know anythin’ ‘bout a cop named John Denton?” Al asked. “Has he been in, by any chance?”

  Rick shook his head. “No, but I can ask around if you want.”

  “Yeah,” Al said, watching Inez finish her set and accept tips from the onlookers which they gave to her by stuffing cash into the side of her scanty underwear. “That would be good, thanks.”

  There was a smattering of applause before Inez started to walk to the curtain behind her.

  Rick did a piercing one-handed whistle, and Inez turned around. “Man here to see you,” Rick called across to her, gesturing towards Al.

  Inez lifted a short robe from the side of the stage and pulled it on while she walked over to where Al was sitting. She removed the dollar bills from her thong and counted them quickly before stuffing them into the pocket of the robe. Sitting on the bar stool next to Al’s, she allowed her robe to fall open.

  “Well, hello sailor,” she whispered, biting her lip. “I think I’ve seen you in here before, but never had the pleasure of meeting you.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine,” Al said. He took in her peroxide blond hair, the thick layer of makeup, the tattoo on her shapely breast, and thought there was probably a nice woman underneath it all, but she’d definitely seen better days.

  “Are you going to buy me a drink,” Inez purred, “or just sit there staring at me all day?”

  “Best bottle of champagne ya’ got for the lady please, Rick,” Al said, never taking his eyes off Inez.

  “Maybe we should go in the back,” Inez said, tracing her lips with her tongue. “I have a room where you’ll be a lot more comfortable. A fine strapping man like you buying little ol’ me champagne deserves more than a bar stool.” She folded her legs in her best impression of Sharon Stone. “What do you say, big boy?”

  Al knew the drill, since he was the one who wrote it. He recalled instructing Rick, as well as all the other bartenders in Vinny’s bars, that when a man wanted to buy a drink for one of the dancers, to make them pay top dollar for the best booze in the house. The bars always kept a few bottles of eye-wateringly expensive champagne in stock for just that purpose. It was up to the women to take it from there, but they were all professionals and knew how to get the most money from a man that they could.

  “I’ll tell ya’ what,” Al said, while Rick poured the champagne. “Why don’t we just talk instead? I need some information, and I think ya’ can help me.”

  Inez’s eyes narrowed. She let her smile drop and pulled her robe across her chest, securing it tightly at the waist. “You a cop?” she sneered, lifting her fluted glass and slurping the bubbles. “You don’t look like one, if that’s any consolation.”

  Al smiled and adjusted his sunglasses. “Thanks,” he said. “I ain’t no cop. But I understand ya’ know a woman by the name of Theresa Larkin, used to dance here. Would that be correct?”

  “Yes, we get together for lunch from time to time. What about it?”

  “She workin’ these days?” Al said. He nodded to Rick to keep Inez’s glass topped off.

  Inez shook her head. “She was a lot more fun before she retired. Says her husband told her she can’t work in a place like this anymore, because his cousin wouldn’t approve of it. I never heard anything so stupid. She’s a grown woman, and she should do what she likes. I mean, what the heck is that all about?”

  Al was amused at the irony of Theresa saying she couldn’t work in a bar like this because of what Vinny would think, since Vinny was the person who owned it. “That’s a shame,” Al said. “What does she do now?”

  The champagne had loosened Inez’s tongue, and she seemed quite happy to share the details of Theresa’s latest exploits with Al. “Funny you should ask, since she just called me this morning. Said she’d been at a wedding yesterday. Had a great time, so I hear.”

  “Really? Why was that?” Al inquired.

  “Well, it wasn’t all good, because she found out her husband wasn’t going to inherit a dime from his rich cousin, but I don’t think that was totally unexpected.”

  “Hmm,” Al said. “So what was the good part?”

  Inez laughed. “You obviously never met Theresa. She was excited because she got to sit next to one of the groom’s clients, a very wealthy shipping company owner who was having the groom’s engineering firm tear down and rebuild his office building that’s located right on the waterfront. Said it was a highlight of her life, to be around that kind of wealth. She even got to ride in his fancy car.”

  “Maybe she’s in the market for a new husband,” Al observed.

  “Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t,” Inez said with a shrug. “She’s allowed a bit of fun, why not? She sounded bitter about the cousin’s money but resigned to the fact that apparently the bridegroom was the person who was going to get everything.”

  “Can you remember the name of the man who was the shipping magnate she befriended?”

  Inez’s eyes widened. “Of course. It’s only Dino Argyros! He’s in the papers all the time. Everybody knows his name.”

  Even Al was impressed that Dino, a friend of Vinny’s, had taken her for a ride. Maybe Theresa was upping her game. He took out a wad of notes and peeled off a hundred dollar bill which he handed to Inez. “Thank ya’,” he said, before standing and straightening his jacket.

  “Won’t you stay a while longer?” Inez pleaded with him. “I don’t often get to chat with men who don’t have their dirty hands all over me. It’s a nice change.”

  “Some other time, maybe.” Al nodded at Inez, gave Rick a half-salute and walked out of the bar.

  Outside, he called Rob, whose number Jake had given him, and asked him to get a cell phone number for Dino Argyros. Jake had told all of them if they needed information on someone, Rob was the one who could get it. Al noted it didn’t take long for Rob to call him back with the number. Dialing it, the call was answered on the first ring.

  A Greek-accented voice spoke. “This is Dino.”

  “Hey, Dino. Al De Duco here. I’m callin’ about the weddin’ reception you was at yesterday. My boss, Vinny Santora, was the man who was found murdered outside the reception area late last night. He was also Clark Blackstock’s uncle. I’m helpin’ the police and could really do with a quick word in your ear, Dino my man.”

  “Of course, Al. I don’t think we’ve ever met, but Vinny and I go way back. I was shocked and terribly saddened to hear the news this morning. Vinny will be missed in the business community.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” Al said. “Listen, I’ll get straight to the point. Did ya’ notice anythin’ at the reception? Anyone actin’ suspicious or weird?

  “No, I don’t think so,” Dino said. “But then I wasn’t really looking. The conversation at dinner was rather lively.”

  I’ll bet it was, Al thought to himself. “Where was ya’ sittin’, and who else was at yer’ table?”

  “I was at a delightful table near the door to the garden. My seatmates were the Larkins, the Brownsdales, Cassie Robe
rts and her two grown-up children, and some other friends of the bride. I can’t remember their names. Theresa Larkin was bending my ear most of the night, but she was good company.”

  “I hear she can be the life and soul of a party when she wants to,” Al said dryly.

  “Actually, come to think of it,” Dino said. “There’s something I should mention. I didn’t think much of it at the time, since a lot of people carry guns, but given the circumstances, it might be relevant.”

  “Someone had a gun?”

  “Yes. I was telling Theresa I’d just bought the new Bugatti Chiron, and that it had cost over three million dollars. She asked if she could see it when I was leaving. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, to be honest. She put some lipstick on just before we went outside, and I noticed a gun in her purse.”

  Al let out a low whistle, which was more because of Dino’s car than the fact that Theresa had a firearm. “Do ya’ know what kinda’ gun it was, Dino?”

  “I’m a gun collector, so yes, it was a .22 pistol. I asked her about it, and she told me she always carried a weapon. Said she’d had some problems several years ago, and it made her feel safer when she had it with her.”

  “That’s understandable, I guess,” Al said. “So, when ya’ gave her a ride in yer’ car, where was her husband?”

  “Oh, he was waiting. Pleasant guy, didn’t seem to have much of an interest in cars. Theresa and I went for a spin, and then I dropped her off at her car and went home. I did wonder why she and her husband followed me out of the parking lot and down the street for quite a ways, but I soon outpaced them.”

  “I see. Listen, Dino, really appreciate all yer’ help. I’m tryin’ to get information on everyone who was there, and I’m gonna follow up on Theresa, although the murderer coulda’ been someone else.”

  “I hope you find the person, Al,” Dino said. “I will be steering clear of Theresa Larkin, in any case.”

  Al hung up and pressed another number on his phone. “Jake? It’s Al. Do ya’ know what type of gun was used to kill Vinny?”

 

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