I stored away the new information. Very interesting.
“Is there anything else you can think of? Anyone who acted strangely around Cassidy?” Sometimes that final, open-ended question brought about the best answers.
She looked to the side in thought. “This is probably nothing. But I know there was this guy who had a crush on her. Some times, he kind of gave her the creeps.”
My adrenaline started to bubble. “Who was he?”
“His name was …” She shook her head. “I can’t remember. She called him the Silent One. All I remember is that her family and a couple of families from her dad’s work used to take vacations together. Like, extravagant vacations, even by my standards. I think they rented an entire Caribbean island once. One of the guys from those trips was always watching her.”
My spine clinched. Watching her? That, of course, made me think of the Watcher. It also made me think of that beach picture I’d seen in Cassidy’s room. Was the Silent One in that photo? “What else can you remember?”
“I want to say he wasn’t a direct family member, but he was on the fringe somehow. He could have even worked for the vacationing families, for all I know. Something always seemed a little off about him. I remember something about his mom having a disability. Maybe mental? Maybe she was in a home? I know this is all vague.”
“No, it’s helpful,” I insisted.
That seemed to encourage her, because she kept talking.
“Cassidy used to always say that the Silent One should get together with The Clingy One. It was some girl who liked her brother.”
“I guess when you’re rich and beautiful, everyone likes you,” Jamie muttered.
“That’s not always a blessing,” Tess whispered. “Everyone wants to use you is more like it.”
“If you think of anything else, let us know,” I encouraged.
Tess nodded. “I will. I probably wasn’t much help. No one really takes me very seriously.”
I could give her some advice in that area, starting with: Stop examining your nails and hair. But I didn’t.
“You were great,” I said instead. And she had offered some interesting information. “Thank you.”
We walked back to the car. I wanted to rehash everything with the girls, but before I could, my phone cried for my attention. I didn’t recognize the number, which always set me on edge.
I hit the speaker button, but before I said anything, the caller spoke. “Hello, Gabby.”
The Watcher.
I didn’t waste time with formalities. “You were responsible last night, weren’t you? That chlorine leak was no accident.”
“There were a lot of bad people there. People who only think of themselves. They need to pay. I just wanted to give them a taste of their own medicine. The resulting fire wasn’t supposed to happen.”
I exchanged glances with Holly and Jamie, who were both riveted on the conversation.
“Why not just shoot me? Why put those other people in danger?”
“That’s not the way this works. It wasn’t about you last night. It was about making a statement.”
I shook my head, trying to figure out what this guy was thinking. “That makes no sense.”
“I determine what makes sense.”
Maybe it was time to stop playing nicely. “Well, you’re delusional. Why do you keep giving me these warnings? What kind of game are you playing?”
“My ways are not yours to question.”
“You have a God complex or something?” My words were tinged with anger. I was tired of playing and being played.
“Life and death are in my hands, whether I like it or not.”
Something about his statement didn’t sit right with me, but I didn’t have time to examine it at the moment.
“Why not just leave this be? Why continue the killing? You could have just disappeared, like you have been for the last ten years. But instead you come out now. You put yourself at risk.”
“I wish I could stop.” His voice seemed to soften.
I decided to take a risk. I remembered what Tess had said about the Silent One from those family trips. She’d mentioned something about his mom suffering some kind of illness. “How’s your mom doing?”
He paused for just a millisecond. “My mom? What does she have to do with any of this?”
“I heard that she wasn’t well.” Maybe if I fished for answers, he’d take the bait. Could this be the same man whom Tess had mentioned? Someone who’d had a crush on Cassidy? Who was somehow connected with Wimbledon Pharmaceuticals?
“Leave my mom out of this,” he barked. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
My pulse spiked. Could this be what I was looking for? “Did Cassidy reject you? Because, if she did, that wasn’t very nice. But you really need to get over it. We all get rejected.” Riley’s face flashed through my mind.
“You’re asking too many questions.” His voice rose with emotion. “Don’t get me in trouble. Watch your back. I’m not done with you yet, Ms. St. Claire.”
The line went dead.
I turned and glanced at Holly and Jamie. Their faces had gone slack, but their eyes certainly reflected mine.
We were on to something and that was enough to get excited about.
“I think you struck a nerve,” Jamie muttered.
“Maybe this conversation with Tess was just the turning point we needed. We have to find out who went on those vacations. I’m going to talk to Garrett, see what he remembers.”
“You feel comfortable being near him?” Holly asked.
I nodded slowly. “Yeah, I do. I really hope I don’t regret trusting him.”
“All I know is that phone call was creepy,” Holly said.
I agreed with my new friend. But there was something else that bothered me. The Watcher had said he could get in trouble. The only way he could get in trouble was if he was working for someone.
Was this man just another player in a twisted game?
CHAPTER 26
I sat at a coffeehouse in an area of Cincinnati known as Over the Rhine. When it came to rough areas of town, I’d bet this was considered one of the worst. It was just a guess, but the area was located in downtown Cincinnati and felt very inner city poor.
But Holly and Jamie had insisted that the coffeehouse was one of the best in the area, and I had to agree that my caramel macchiato was tasty. The servers all were grungy with piercings, tattoos, and funky hair. The patrons were varied, and the interior was nothing fancy.
I’d wanted to chat with Garrett, but when I’d called Lyndsey answered his phone and informed me that Garrett was in the middle of an important business call. As much as I wanted answers now, I decided to let my theories simmer. I tried to brush off my curiosity about Garrett’s meeting and his relationship with Lyndsey, too.
The woman had a certain possessiveness in her gaze that was fine with me. She could have Garrett all to herself.
As we huddled in a corner, Jamie pulled open her laptop. “What do you want me to look up? You name it, I’ll do an Internet search for it. They don’t call me Twinkle Fingers for nothing.”
I wasn’t used to having such willing accomplices … er, helpers.
“I hardly know where to begin. I really think, at this point, that the murders are somehow tied in with Wimbledon Pharmaceuticals, in part because those vacations Tess mentioned were with people from the company.”
“The Watcher certainly reacted when you mentioned his mom, which would line up with your theory,” Jamie said. “If that’s the case, the motive would go back to Cassidy instead of Edward, though. Right?”
“Possibly,” I said. “My gut is still telling me that Edward was the killer’s primary focus. Until I talk to Garrett, I have no way of obtaining any more information on those vacations, including who was there and what happened. Edward is a better one to start with. He was having marital problems and maybe even problems at work also.”
“What kind of problems at wor
k?” Holly asked. She batted her eyelashes, truly reminding me of someone from the fifties—innocent and sweet.
“I talked to his coworkers and they gave no indication that anything was wrong.” Then again, people lied all the time, especially if it was in their best interest.
“But things aren’t always as perfect as they seem,” Holly reminded us.
“Then what about his marital problems?” Jamie asked.
“I know the police and the FBI examined Mr. Mercer’s love life pretty extensively,” I told them. “They found all of his affairs very suspect. But the police questioned all of those women and cleared them.” It was why I hadn’t questioned any of them.
“Is Garrett like that?” Holly asked. “A womanizer?”
I frowned. “I thought he was. Now I don’t know. He confuses me.”
“Typical man,” Jamie proclaimed.
We all laughed. Her words were too, too true.
I sobered when I remembered the case. I warmed my hands around my mug and leaned forward. “Let’s just imagine for a moment that somehow this murder had something to do with Edward’s job. The problem is: How do we prove that? I don’t have access to anything at the company, and I have no way to get access. Plus, there’s the fact that Vic Newport’s daughter was pregnant with Garrett Mercer’s child, and the fact that he wasn’t home when his daughter arrived there on the evening of the murders.”
“Vic Newport, huh?” Jamie mumbled. She tapped away at her computer. A moment later, she turned the screen to us. “Check out this picture. Is it just me or is Vic Newport giving the strangest look to the woman posing with him?”
I leaned closer to the computer and studied the picture. I recognized Vic Newport, and both Reginald Jr. and Smith Wimbledon. There were also three others in the photo. They were accepting some kind of award. The woman wasn’t named in the caption.
“She does look familiar.” I shook my head, unable to place her. Maybe I’d seen her in the office that day? At the gala?
The woman had short brown hair, a long nose, glasses, and a matronly suit. The date on the picture said it was taken six years ago. The woman looked to be in her mid-twenties, I’d guess.
I looked away. “I’m not sure if this photo helps us. Maybe it was just taken in one of those off moments and the look on Vic Newport’s face means nothing. I’m not sure it tells us anything.”
Jamie sat up, her eyes bright. “Maybe I could help find some answers about Mr. Newport.”
“How do you propose to do that?” Hope tinged my voice.
“Maybe I could say I want to write an article on the company.” She shrugged. “I am a freelance journalist. I’ve written for some local magazines and newspapers. As I was surfing around online, I saw that Mr. Newport won a leadership award. It’s the perfect angle for a human-interest story. Companies love stuff like that.”
I was sure Portman from Publicity would jump at the opportunity.
But her suggestion was risky. Intriguing, but risky. “What if they say yes to an interview? What then? Are you going to sneak off and search through their files?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But something is better than nothing, right?”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to put you in harm’s way or get you in trouble.”
“Girl, I’m putting myself in harm’s way and getting myself in trouble. But I’m okay with that. Besides, I’ve got a good head on my shoulders. I know how to be sly.”
I glanced at Holly. She nodded enthusiastically.
“I’d trust her,” Holly added. “A girl who has enough self control to lose 100 pounds can handle something like this.”
“Really?” I questioned.
Jamie tilted her head. “Girl, I was fat. Went from 260 to 160. Now people can’t take enough pictures of me. In fact, I photo bomb people as often as possible. That’s how proud I am of this new body.”
She ran her hand up and down, as if showcasing herself.
“I’m impressed. Losing that much weight is not an easy task.” I didn’t even have the willpower to give up coffee. Not that I’d ever tried. I mean, the very idea was ludicrous.
Jamie stared at me, waiting for my response, light dancing in her eyes. “Besides, I might not even get the interview. This is just an idea. I mean, it’s not like you can go, Gabby. They’ve already seen your face there.”
She had a point.
“Let’s test the waters,” I conceded. “I doubt you’ll even get in. They seemed pretty stringent.”
Jamie still tapped away at the computer. “I’m sending an interview request email now and marking it urgent.”
Before I could say anything else, my cellphone started singing, “That’s Amore.”
My heart sped.
Riley.
CHAPTER 27
I stepped outside—despite a warning from Jamie and Holly that this wasn’t a safe area of town—and put the phone to my ear. “Hey, Riley.”
“Hey, Gabby. I’ve missed you.”
My heart warmed. Maybe I was reading too much into this and things really were fine between us. “I’ve missed you, too. How are you? How’s therapy going?”
“I think I’m making some progress. I mean, living with my parents isn’t ideal. Not at my age. But I think the decision was good.”
“I’m glad.” I stayed under the ripped awning as water dripped from the nighttime sky.
“How are you, Gabby?”
I looked around me as a police officer chased a man down the street. I remembered being drugged, my tires being slashed, and my every move being watched. “Doing okay. Nothing too exciting here.”
“I saw the picture.”
I searched my brain for a frame of reference but got nothing. “The picture?”
“The one in the paper. You were rescuing a woman from a hotel in Cincinnati.”
Surprise—and maybe guilt?—washed over me. “Oh, that picture. All the way out in D.C., huh?”
“It made national news. You have that many powerful people in one place and it gets attention.”
Why hadn’t I considered that? So much for keeping this under wraps. On the other hand, I was amazed that Riley had put that together. Again, how his brain worked right now continued to perplex me.
“You would think people had better things to report on, right?” Again, I kept my voice light. As two police cars came blaring my way, I stepped back inside, trading privacy for safety.
“You didn’t tell me you accepted the P.I. job.” Hurt lined his voice.
“I didn’t want to stress you out,” I told him honestly. “I was trying to keep things simple.”
“You could have told me.”
“Things just seem so complicated right now, Riley.” Maybe I shouldn’t have said the words. Maybe I shouldn’t stir things up. But what I’d said was the truth.
I secretly wanted him to correct me. To insist that things were simple. That nothing had changed.
Instead, he said, “You’re right. Things do feel complicated.”
Silence stretched. I didn’t know exactly what to say. So I figured I should say exactly that. “What’s this mean for us, Riley?” My throat ached as I said the words.
“My therapist says—”
“No offense, Riley. I’m sure your therapist is very wise. But I really want to know what you have to say.” I closed my eyes, waiting for his response, trying to ignore the dread forming in my gut.
“I’m just trying to take it one day at a time, Gabby. You’ve been my rock.”
“I want to be your rock now.”
“Gabby …” Silence stretched another moment.
I could tell he was trying to find the words. “Yes?”
“I need to go,” he finally said. “My head is pounding. But we’ll talk again soon, okay?”
I pressed my lips together, trying not to let my chin quiver. “Okay, let’s talk soon.”
I hung up and stared at my phone a moment.
Just what did all of that m
ean? And how was I ever going to come to terms with all the real and potential changes in my life.
***
The next morning I went to church with the Paladins. Part of me had wanted to skip services and continue investigating. I couldn’t do that, though. If I did, my life would be out of balance. If God could take time to rest, then certainly I could, too.
Being around the Paladin family fascinated me. Mrs. Paladin always had a big smile stretched across her face, Alex had a dry sense of humor, Ralphie may have been a bigger schmoozer than Garrett, and Holly just sat back, soaking them all in.
They’d moved on from the heartache of losing their dad; yet, they had no idea about Holly. I hoped she told them soon.
It was good to see a family that had pulled through a tragedy and were stronger than before. Tragedy had only torn my family apart. Just as tragedy continued to pull my world apart now. I had to make the uncertainty in my life work to my advantage, work to make me a better person.
After church, we had lunch. I met Alex the Great’s fiancé. Holly’s “friend” (and Ralphie’s campaign manager) Brian had also stopped by. I had the impression that Sunday lunches were important to the family; that they rarely missed them. I also had the impression that the family often included others. Being around them made me miss my friends in Norfolk. I’d see them soon enough, I supposed—provided that I hadn’t been evicted from my apartment building under a potential new owner.
Jamie called as lunch wrapped up, and Holly handed the phone to me. “You’ll never believe this,” Jamie rushed.
“Believe what?”
“Wimbledon Pharmaceuticals emailed me back.”
“On a Sunday?” It sounded like other people needed some of that same balance I’d been seeking lately.
“I know. That’s what I said. I guess their PR people work around the clock. They agreed to an interview tomorrow.”
“No way!”
“It’s true. It helped that I gave them a deadline of Tuesday.”
“You sure you’re okay with doing this?” I still had concerns.
“You know it. They want all of the positive publicity they can get on their employees and their charitable efforts. I might just have to throw in a few questions to throw them off guard, though.” She paused. “One other thing. I called Rebecca Newport again.”
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