She’d also learned everything she could about Keith Kelly himself. What she’d found, paired with what she’d seen last night, had led her to determine that he wasn’t a happy man. His grandmother had raised him—Sadie didn’t know why—and he’d been married and divorced three times. He had a son and a daughter with his second wife. Sadie knew nothing about the daughter, but the son worked for the company—at least, the Chief Financial Officer was named Richard Kelly, so Sadie assumed he was some kind of relation. Keith had been divorced from wife number three for nearly five years. While marriage hadn’t been a talent, working had. He was doing very well for himself, and his home was worth more than a million dollars, according to the most current tax appraisals in his area. In addition to Kelly Fire Systems, he owned a separate billing company and was part owner of a metal fabricating company. He had a few traffic tickets, and had been cited by the labor commission after apparently refusing to pay a couple of employees over the years, but other than those things, he seemed to be a relatively upstanding citizen.
It seemed unfair to assume that any of these things somehow supported him being a murderer, but the fact was that Sadie had uncovered details she needed to relay to May. She hoped May would call her back soon.
In the meantime, it was time to stake out the office one more time. She’d slept a little longer than she’d planned to—seeing as she’d stayed up so late—so it was nearly ten before she pulled out of the hotel parking lot, still mulling over everything she’d learned.
She’d chosen her white denim, wide-leg capris and multicolored-striped polo shirt for today’s adventures, but she’d strapped on her running shoes. Her arches were still aching from wearing sandals on last night’s job. Typically, Sadie was against running shoes with short pants, but on the way out of her hotel room, she saw a woman wearing what looked like a purple leather top with orange-and-red leggings beneath an earth-toned skirt. Surely Sadie could get away with her own fashion faux pas of wearing the wrong shoes.
When she arrived at Keith’s office, she parked in a different spot than she’d been yesterday, further from the building but still with a clear view of the parking lot. Once settled, she opened her book and started reading about public databases and how to use them while glancing up now and then to make sure nothing was happening. Keith’s Mercedes didn’t leave the lot, not even for lunch.
At two o’clock her phone rang, but she scowled at the number. The Denver area code could only be one person: Jane Seeley. That woman did not take a hint. Sadie rejected the call, but was a little disappointed when Jane didn’t leave a message. As much as she disliked the woman, she was curious as to why she had called.
For the next ten minutes, she kind of hoped Jane would call back, but she didn’t. Sadie’s stomach growled; the complimentary breakfast at the hotel had been good, but it was definitely time to eat. She walked to the Burger King half a block away for a bathroom break and to grab some lunch, glad for the chance to restore circulation in her legs.
After a quick bite, Sadie returned to her car and her book, settling back into stakeout mode. When she finished the book at four o’clock, a long, dull headache pounded at the base of her skull. The information was interesting, but she was so bored, and Keith hadn’t come outside even once. The excitement of discovery she’d felt that morning had completely petered away.
She laid her head against the headrest, in hopes that it would relieve her headache, and closed her eyes, just for a minute.
When her phone rang again, she snapped up in her seat and looked around, momentarily disoriented. Instinctively she fumbled for the phone and clicked it on, only giving herself a split second to realize it was May.
“Hello?” she said, blinking quickly to clear the sleep out of her eyes.
“Hi, Sadie,” May said. “Sorry it took me so long. We were meeting with Dad’s lawyer all day, working on the second disbursement and other estate stuff, ugh.” She let out a long sigh. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”
Sadie sobered quickly and rolled her shoulders as best she could. She looked at the dashboard clock, dismayed that she’d slept for forty-five minutes. Immediately, she scanned the parking lot and relaxed when she saw that Keith’s Mercedes hadn’t been moved. She turned her attention back to May. “I’m so sorry,” she said sincerely. It had only been two years ago that Sadie had been in the same situation, listening to her father’s life be reduced to black words on white paper. Even though she’d known his passing was coming, it was still a shock to face life without him. “These are such hard things.”
May sniffled on the other end of the phone. “Harder than I expected,” she said in a whisper. Then she took a breath, and when she spoke, it was obvious she was trying hard to seem unaffected. “You said you learned something?”
“I did,” Sadie said. She took five minutes to explain everything she’d found, ending with a disclaimer that she certainly hadn’t proved anything, just determined a possible scenario of how Keith Kelly could have caused Jim Sanderson’s death. Like Sadie, May latched onto the insulin idea right away.
“I had no idea insulin could cause a heart attack,” she said. “And it would be so easy, wouldn’t it? How much insulin would Dad have to have been given?”
“Well, it depends on the type of insulin,” Sadie said, shuffling through her papers. “I have some info here somewhere.” Half the stack fell to the floor on the passenger side. “Oh, biscuits,” she breathed as she leaned forward to pick them up.
“What?”
“I just dropped some papers,” Sadie said, trying to pick them up with one hand while still talking on the phone. “How about I bring them to the house and show you?”
“Oh, uh, that’s probably not a good idea.”
“I’m out and about, and it will only take a minute.” Not to mention saving her from this miserable stakeout.
“Well, Jolene and her husband are coming over for dinner,” May said. “How about tomorrow morning?”
Sadie frowned. Wasn’t this more important than dinner with her sister? She quickly remembered, however, that May hadn’t been to Portland in quite some time—other than for the funeral—and it had been a taxing day for her. “Tomorrow is fine, if that’s better for you,” Sadie said. “You’d mentioned that I could have access to your dad’s files. I’d like to look up his past contracts with Keith and see if anything stands out.”
“Oh sure,” May said, perhaps sounding more agreeable than normal due to guilt at putting Sadie off for now. “That would be great. How about eleven?”
That was hardly morning in Sadie’s opinion, but she didn’t want to argue. The idea of staking out the office again tomorrow made her ill, but maybe she could find something else to do with the extra time. “Sounds good,” Sadie said. “I’ll see you then.”
“Okay, good,” May said. “And let me know if you find out anything else. I’m ready to see this guy burn.”
The severity of the comment took Sadie off guard. It’s not as though she’d been unaware of May’s goal in hiring her, but there was something so caustic in her final comment, and the words teetered back and forth in Sadie’s mind. “Tomorrow, then,” she said.
May said good-bye, and Sadie hung up the phone, staring at it for a moment. She looked up in time to see Keith’s Mercedes pull out of the parking lot. She startled, but quickly recovered, throwing her phone on the seat while shifting into drive. If he went home again, maybe she could get close enough to find out what kind of insulin he used.
Two blocks later, however, he turned in a different direction than Dora indicated; Sadie had programmed his address into the GPS in case she lost him again. She took the same turn he had and followed at a discreet distance while Dora kept trying to reroute her. Sadie turned off the GPS.
After a few blocks, he slowed down and pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant tucked—like everything else in downtown Portland—between two other buildings with limited parking. She circled the block while deciding
that, since she’d come this far and she needed food, she might as well follow him inside. Who was he meeting? What would he order? Would this restaurant have as good a dessert tray as Karri’s?
Chapter 21
Ten minutes later, Sadie stepped into the restaurant and scanned the tables from behind a ficus tree in the lobby. It was 5:20 on a Wednesday night, and business was slow; Portland struck her as a nightlife kind of town. She spotted Keith at a table on the far side of the restaurant, near the bar. There were three other men with him; one had his back to Sadie.
“Can I help you?”
Sadie looked through the plastic branches to see the twenty-something hostess looking at her strangely. The girl had unnaturally yellow hair and a teal scarf tied around her forehead, the ends trailing down her back. She had those gauge-earrings in her ears, which allowed Sadie to see through her earlobes. It was very strange, and Sadie sent up a little prayer of thanks that neither of her children had ever explored that type of statement. Sadie stepped out from behind the ficus tree but turned away from the group of men, pretending to scratch her face and forcing the hostess to walk around her in order to look her in the eye.
“Are you all right, ma’am?”
Sadie put on her best smile. “Of course, but I would love a quiet little table if you’ve got something available.”
“Sure,” the hostess said, giving Sadie a careful smile. “For one?”
Would it look suspicious if she were alone? “I have a friend who might be joining me.”
“O-kay,” the hostess said. “Follow me.”
Sadie followed directly behind the young woman so as to remain undetected, still scratching that invisible itch and keeping her face averted. The girl kept going and going until, finally, Sadie couldn’t take the chance of getting any closer to Keith’s table. She slid into a booth several tables away from the group of men, but with a good view of them. She couldn’t hear them talking, but she could see them across the table from where she’d popped herself down.
“This is perfect,” she said.
The blonde walked back to the booth. Sadie kept smiling. “I like the view from here,” she said, waving toward the windows obstructed by two different pillars. She hurried to validate her excuses. “Any closer to the windows and I’ll get a headache—too much light.”
“Oh,” the girl said, nodding slightly. “Um, I’ll get you some silverware.”
She disappeared, and Sadie shrank down so that she could just see over the opposite seat. Without taking her eyes off the four men, she reached into her purse and fished around for the voice recorder.
She put her mouth as close to the microphone as possible and used clear, crisp words. “Keith Kelly eating at the Gallery with three unidentified men at 5:23, Wednesday evening. Late for a business meeting, but too early for a guys’ night out.” She clicked off the recorder and looked up to see the blonde hostess standing next to the table, two silverware sets in hand and a downright worried expression on her face. Sadie smiled again and sat up straight, though she pulled into the corner of the booth. “Grocery list,” she said, waving the voice recorder slightly. “Everyone should use one of these—I never forget anything!”
The hostess smiled politely, set a place for Sadie and one for her “friend,” told her the server would be with her shortly, and left. Sadie brought the voice recorder back to her mouth and slumped in her seat. “Keith Kelly sits at the three o’clock position. I can only see the back of the man seated at six o’clock, but he has dark, slick hair and is wearing one of those blue oxfords with a white collar and white cuffs—fancy. The man in the nine o’clock position is dressed in a dark-green polo, has a full beard and longish hair; mid-forties is my guess on age. The man at twelve is facing me. He has a receding hairline and the rest of his hair is cut short—probably in his mid-to late thirties. He’s also in business attire and looks . . . contemplative. No one is laughing or joking around. Must be business related.”
Someone cleared their throat, and Sadie looked up to see a young man with overly tanned skin and overly blond hair watching her. She gave the same grocery list excuse as she slid the recorder back into her purse, and he gave her the same polite smile the hostess had bestowed.
“Are you ready to order?” he asked. “Today’s special is the loaded bread dip or our couscous pepper chicken salad with lemon caper dressing.”
The salad sounded horrid, but the other special caught her attention. “Loaded bread dip? Is that an appetizer?” Sadie asked.
“It can be. But many people like it as a meal too. It’s a hollowed out artesian bread loaf filled with cheesy bacon dip and baked. You eat it with the bread previously scooped out.”
“That sounds fabulous,” Sadie breathed, contemplating the joy of her palate. Her stomach growled, and she snapped the menu shut too loudly. Looking quickly at the table of four men, she cringed as the man facing her took notice of the sound. She ducked her head as much as she dared and casually lifted the menu so that it blocked her face. “I’ll take the bread dip,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”
“You bet,” he said, taking the corner of the menu Sadie was attempting to hide behind. Sadie’s grip tightened until she realized that wrestling the menu would only draw more attention. She let go, smiled, and watched the server walk away. Luckily, receding-hairline-guy wasn’t looking at her anymore, but she still pulled into the corner of the booth again, hoping she’d blend in with the burgundy vinyl of the benches. The men continued to talk, and it took a full four minutes before Sadie started tapping her foot in boredom.
Pictures! That’s why she’d bought the camera in the first place, right? And it would be good to have a record of the people Keith was with—just in case. She carefully fumbled around in her purse until she found the camera, zipped up in the new case. She carefully moved it into her lap and unzipped it, glad for the muted conversations in the restaurant that hid the sounds she was making.
Once the camera was out, she made sure to disable the flash, then slid to the edge of her booth, holding the camera in such a way as to take a picture of the men without having to lift it to eye level and risk their notice. She made sure no one was looking and lined up her shot as best she could before clicking the button. The picture itself was almost silent, and Sadie smiled at her own ingenuity. Glancing sideways at the view screen, she zoomed in and had snapped two more pictures before she noticed a woman at another table watching her. She lifted the camera and made a show of slapping it in her hand and looking at it closely, as though trying to make it work. When she glanced up again, the woman was taking a sip of her wine and looking adoringly at the man across from her, but Sadie chided herself for getting carried away. She slid the camera back in her purse and was trying to decide what to do next when her meal came.
Steam swirled up from what looked like soup in a bread bowl as he slid the plate in front of her. She brought her hands together and leaned forward, inhaling the divinity of the meal—garlic, cream, cheese, and bacon. One of these days she would have to go on a low-fat cooking spree to make up for the rich meals she kept finding herself confronted with. But not tonight. “Oh, this smells wonderful.” She hoped her compliments were repairing her reputation among the staff a little bit in case talk about the crazy lady talking into a recorder was getting around the kitchen.
“It tastes even better,” her waiter said and set down an additional plate filled with chunks of bread for dipping. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
Sadie had already picked up her first piece of bread as she shook her head. “Not right now,” she said, inhaling again. “Thank you.”
“Great, I’ll check in on you in a few minutes.” He walked away, leaving Sadie alone with the meal. If it tasted half as good as it smelled, her day had just gotten significantly better.
She dipped the bread into the thick sauce and lifted the first bite to her lips, blowing on it a few times before determining it cool enough to eat. The flavors were magnificent! The subt
le sweetness of onions, the clean, salty texture of bacon, and the blending mellowness of just the right amount of cheese along with the texture of the soft bread was as good as she’d hoped it would be. Sadie groaned softly and dipped in for her second bite. For the next five minutes, she was lost in her dinner.
It wasn’t until movement from the direction of Keith’s table caught her eye that Sadie realized she’d forgotten why she was sitting here eating dinner in the first place. All four men were standing, shaking hands across the table while depositing the fabric napkins on their chairs. Wasn’t that a rather fast meal? It wasn’t even 6:30 yet.
Blackberry Crumble Page 13
