Black Diamond Death

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  “Did you speak to her again?”

  He nodded.

  “We talked a few weeks after that.”

  “What about?” I said.

  “She called and said she cancelled the wedding.”

  “Did she say how Parker reacted to the news?” I said.

  “He denied it at first, the women I mean, but then she showed him a copy of the photos. There wasn’t much he could say after that.”

  “Could I get a copy of the file?”

  “I can scan the pages if you like.”

  He went into another room and a few minutes later he returned and handed me a manila envelope.

  “You know, I planned to ask Charlotte on a date, but I thought she needed a little time first, you know to heal and everything. Now I wished I had. If I can do anything else, just holler, and I hope you catch the jerk that did this.”

  He placed his hat back on his head and tipped it toward me and said, “You have a good day now.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Nick stood at the bar when I walked in and gave me the I’m-not-very-happy-with-you face.

  “I thought we agreed you needed to stay home and rest,” he said.

  “You agreed, I didn’t.”

  He frowned.

  “I’m sorry; I needed to visit with someone. It was important.”

  “I called your cell,” he said, “several times.”

  Lord Berkeley bolted around the corner and I knelt down to greet him.

  “I bet I lost service in the canyon,” I said. “My phone doesn’t show you called.”

  “You need rest,” he said.

  “I’ll go straight to bed if that will make you happy.”

  “I’m being serious. You’re in no condition. And besides that, we don’t know who’s after you.”

  “We don’t know someone is after me. Maybe it was the files they wanted. And I’m not a child; I don’t need to be parented by you or anyone else.”

  He wasn’t amused, but I recognized now was not the time for a debate.

  “Alright,” I said, “I got the message. Pajama time it is.”

  I changed into a tank top and flannel bottoms. It wasn’t the sexiest outfit in the world, but I was comfortable. When I walked back into the kitchen, Nick emerged from the pantry with one can in each hand.

  “What will it be then,” he said, “chicken noodle or creamy chicken with rice.”

  “Neither.”

  He shook his head.

  “Don’t turn your nose up at me, woman.”

  He reached into a brown paper sack that rested on a shelf next to the fridge.

  “Well then, how about some sweet and sour chicken,” he said.

  “I thought I smelled something good.”

  Nick dangled a container in front of my face.

  “I will give you this entire box of chicken and throw in a side of sumptuous cream-filled wontons if you agree not to run off without telling me first. At least until we catch whoever hurt you,” he said.

  The wontons looked good enough to donate a body organ for them.

  “Do we have a deal?” he said.

  If I didn’t agree, I imagined he would find a way to monitor my every move. It was far easier to relent, so I did.

  Lord Berkeley wiffed the food and nipped my toes.

  “Where did you run off to?” Nick said.

  “I went to see the private investigator Charlotte hired.”

  “And?”

  “I managed to get a few new tidbits but not much.”

  “He wasn’t a lot of help then,” he said.

  “The guy looked more like a farmhand than a detective.”

  “Neither of us got anywhere from the looks of it,” he said. “That Vicki is ah, persuasive.”

  “Let me guess, she prevailed upon you and now you’ve listed your house on the market because it just isn’t big enough, and she’s found a much more suitable property which she convinced you to make an offer on.”

  “She prevailed alright, but her intentions weren’t focused on selling me a house.”

  “So the fiery agent has a thing for the hunky detective.”

  He ran his hand across my hair.

  “I have the perfect amount of fiery woman right here,” he said.

  “It was a waste of time then.”

  “Not entirely,” he said. “A couple agents in the office said Parker lost his temper last summer at some award dinner.”

  “At Charlotte?”

  He shook his head and bit into a wonton.

  “That’s the interesting part,” he said. “Parker was in an argument with her assistant, Bridget Peters.”

  CHAPTER 31

  The bitter chill of winter nipped at my face and it tingled all over. I raced to the warm sanctuary of Nick’s car. Fog hung in the air like a wedding veil, and the roads were saturated with rain. Snow plow workers toiled all day pushing it off the streets into steep ten-foot mounds on the side of the road that looked like heaps of dirty glaciers. The elements could do their worst. With Parker on the hook that morning, nothing would stop me from being there.

  Coop grinned at me when we entered the station.

  “You’re too late,” he said. “You missed the dog and pony show.”

  He wasn’t about to break my spirit, not today.

  “I’m here to view the recording. Didn’t the chief tell you that?”

  “I like the new headdress,” he said, “looks great on you.”

  The chief stepped out of his office and scowled at Coop and turned to me.

  “Sloane, I want to talk to you for a minute.”

  “I guess I’m too late,” I said, when I walked in.

  “And I’m sure you’re disappointed, but I promised you could review the recording and you’re free to do that anytime.”

  “Now works for me,” I said. “Did it go alright?”

  “He lawyered up so we couldn’t get much out of him,” he said.

  “Figures. Who questioned him?”

  “Coop.”

  That figured as well.

  “He denied any involvement in what happened to Miss Halliwell, of course. Said he was in New York at the time.”

  “Can anyone back up his story?”

  “A woman.”

  “Who?” I said.

  “Kristin Tanner.”

  My mystery woman had a last name after all.

  “What do we know about her?”

  “Not much except that she can corroborate his story,” he said.

  “Can we track this friend down?”

  “She lives in New York, but she flies in tomorrow for the weekend.”

  “Let me guess, she’s staying with Parker.”

  He nodded.

  “How hospitable of him,” I said.

  He said nothing.

  “And what about the abuse?” I said.

  “Denied it,” he said.

  “Of course he did.”

  “Since no one has come forward and I don’t have any evidence, there’s not much I can do.”

  “What about me? That asshole had me in a headlock.”

  “And he’s the one with the broken fingers,” he said. “It’s his word against yours.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he said.

  “You might as well have.”

  “Damn it Sloane, it’s not a question of whether I believe you because you know I do. The fact of the matter is I had no grounds to hold him. His lawyer made sure of that.”

  “So we let him walk, free to roam the streets, striking women at his leisure.”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” he said.

  “Parker Stanton should be in a jail cell, and I’d bet daddy Stanton did what he needed to do so his precious son could stroll right out of here.”

  I stood and walked to the door. I had heard enough.

  The chief’s voice elevated.

  “You need to trust me,” he said. “I know what I’m
doing.”

  In truth, I knew he was doing his best, but if Parker remained free I was sure the other women were in danger.

  He stood up and leaned over his desk with his pointer finger aimed straight at me.

  “Shut that door,” he said.

  I didn’t want to shut the door. I wanted to slam it. Ever since the accident I hadn’t felt like my usual self. I didn’t know what to blame it on––the prescription drugs or the lack of a decent night’s rest, or maybe it was the fact that I still hadn’t found Charlotte’s killer.

  I rotated my body around and faced him, but I remained at the door.

  “I put a tail on Parker,” the chief said. “I’m not letting him go for nothing.”

  CHAPTER 32

  The recording began with the usual rigmarole. Coop dispensed the formalities and asked the customary questions and Parker appeared calm and collected in the uncomfortable metal chair which was placed with much consideration in the corner of a stark white room. Parker sat up straight like a schoolboy eager to impress the teacher. He wore a fitted black suit and a drab tie and crossed one leg over the other and rested his hand on top. He articulated his words with certainty and finesse in the hopes that he could stroke Coops ego, yes sir, no sir, thank you officer. He even cracked a joke that made Coop smile. Coop, of all people. He played a fun little game, but it wouldn’t work. Coop was many things, but a dummy wasn’t one of them. And at the end of the formalities, Parker smiled, satisfied in his overall performance. But the tables were about to turn. I was sure of it.

  “Tell me about your relationship with Charlotte,” Coop said.

  “There’s not much to say. We dated awhile, planned to get married later this year, but it didn’t work out and I broke it off.”

  Lies.

  “When?” Coop said.

  He shrugged.

  “Maybe three, four months ago.”

  “Why did you break off the engagement?” Coop said.

  “I wasn’t ready for it.”

  “Marriage?” Coop said.

  “That’s right. She was clingy, and I need my space. So I decided it wasn’t worth it. You’re a man; you understand what it’s like to feel suffocated, right?”

  Interesting choice of words.

  “And Charlotte, how did she take it?”

  “She begged me to get back together with her.”

  More lies.

  “And did you?” Coop said.

  “No sir, I had already moved on with someone else.”

  Clearly the understatement of the year. Coop switched gears.

  “Let’s talk about the day she died. Where were you on that day?”

  “New York.”

  “Were you alone or with someone?” Coop said.

  “With a friend.”

  “What kind of friend?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Coop tilted his head to the side like he was giving it some thought.

  “Might,” Coop said.

  “A good friend. Satisfied?”

  “And can this––”

  “Kristin Tanner.”

  “Can this Kristin Tanner back up your story?” Coop said.

  “She flies in this weekend, you can ask her yourself.”

  “When did you see her last?”

  “Kristin?”

  “Charlotte.”

  He looked at his fingers like he was trying to count it out.

  “Not for a couple months at least.”

  “Well that’s interesting,” Coop said.

  Parker attempted to lean back in his chair, but the metal on the legs slid around on the floor.

  “Why is that?”

  Coop careened forward and stuck his pointer finger about an inch from Parkers face.

  “A valet at Wildwood puts you outside Miss Halliwell’s car about three weeks ago.”

  Parker looked startled. And he wasn’t the only one.

  “I’ll ask you again,” Coop said. “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “I told you, a couple months ago. The valet must have me confused with somebody else.”

  Coop turned up one corner of his mouth and smirked. Parker didn’t get it yet, but I did. He had him right where he wanted.

  “Is that right,” Coop said.

  “That’s right.”

  Parker’s hot shot lawyer, who up until now sat idly by without so much as a word, decided it was time he made some use of himself.

  “I’m not sure what you’re playing at Mr. Cooper, but I won’t tolerate you harassing my client.”

  “It’s Detective Cooper,” he said, “and I asked a simple question.”

  “And I answered it,” Parker said.

  Coop recoiled back in his chair, but from the look on his face it was far from over. He said nothing for about twenty seconds. He just fixed his eyes on Parker and remained still.

  “Let me lay it out for you son,” he said. “The witness said you confronted Miss Halliwell at her vehicle and when she tried to open her car door, you stopped her.”

  Parker scoffed at the comment.

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Oh, I’m not done,” Coop said.

  “You also physically held her down and didn’t allow her to get into her car.”

  “This is outrageous,” the lawyer said. “He already answered your question. It wasn’t him, and he wasn’t there.”

  Coop was on a roll now, and he wasn’t about to let up.

  “You were there son,” he said. “You know it and I know it.”

  Parker loosened his tie and adjusted his collar which appeared damp. He uncrossed his legs and then crossed them again on the other side.

  “I came in here voluntarily to answer your questions, but all you want to do is paint me into a corner. If that’s the case, I refuse to answer any more of your questions.”

  Coop glared at Parker. Parker stared back. The lawyer looked at his legal pad and pushed the top of his pen up and down. It made a snapping noise.

  “I want you to find whoever did this to Charlotte,” Parker said. “Despite what you people think, I cared for her. My feelings haven’t gone away just because she’s dead.”

  Coop pretended to regard his sentiments for a moment.

  “Would you like to help me Mr. Stanton?”

  “That’s why I agreed to come here in the first place.”

  “Then cut the bullshit and tell me the truth,” Coop said.

  Parker flung out of his chair. It turned sideways and clanked when it hit the floor. He grabbed his lawyers arm and jerked him out of his seat. They both headed in unison for the door. Coop made no movement of any kind and remained calm and collected.

  Parker reached for the doorknob and twisted it.

  “If you don’t want to believe me that’s up to you,” he said, “but you know as well as I do that you don’t have enough to hold me. Enjoy the rest of your day Detective.”

  “Oh I will,” Coop said. “Would you like to know how I’m going to spend it?”

  “What interest is that of mine?”

  “Did you know Wildwood has 24-hour surveillance set up in almost every location of the resort? Five in the parking area alone, to be exact. And I expect copies of those recordings to arrive anytime now.”

  Parker loosened his death grip on the door handle and turned to his lawyer. They exchanged glances. The lawyer closed the door.

  Coop stood up and pushed his chair in and turned toward Parker. The lawyer leaned over and whispered in his ear. Parker didn’t say a word.

  “Let’s go over this one more time,” Coop said. “You went to Wildwood that day and you and Charlotte argued.”

  Parker looked at his lawyer who shook his head.

  “We engaged in a civilized conversation between two people, so what.”

  “When I review the surveillance all I’m going to see is a friendly little chat between two people?”

  “So I got a little angry with her, what about it. Couples fight all th
e time.”

  “Don’t say another word,” the lawyer said.

  “It proves you have a temper,” Coop said.

  Parker laughed.

  “Doesn’t everybody?”

  “Not everybody hits women,” Coop said.

  Parker’s lawyer applied a fair amount of pressure to his arm.

  “I must advise you not to say another word,” the lawyer said.

  He then turned to Coop.

  “We’re done here.”

  Parker reached for the doorknob again, but this time with his other hand. He winced when he remembered his fingers were out of commission.

  “By the way,” Coop said, looking at Parker’s bandaged hand. “How did it feel to get beat up by a girl anyway?”

  Parker returned the comment with an icy stare, but his lawyer shoved him out the door before he had the chance to say anything further. Interrogation over.

  CHAPTER 33

  “How did you get so lucky?”

  Vicki wore a tight black mini skirt that looked like it belonged on someone half her age and a button-up suit coat. The buttons on her jacket were barely fastened into the holes and looked like they might burst.

  “I’m not sure I follow,” I said.

  “That hunky detective boy toy of yours, of course.”

  “Ah, Nick. He’s great.”

  “And then some,” she said. “He has the most gorgeous blue eyes I’ve ever seen. And those dimples, oh my.”

  She smacked the side of my shoulder.

  “Good for you,” she said.

  I let it slide.

  “I wanted to ask you a few more questions,” I said.

  She nodded.

  “Did Charlotte keep copies of her files here at the office?” I said.

  “Which files?”

  “Client files and real estate transactions.”

  She motioned to the pair of drawers lodged in between her desk and Charlotte’s.

  “We keep all client files for the current year in there. But there’s nothing in there now.”

  “Why is that?” I said.

  “Charlotte bought new color-coded file folders about a month ago and took them home to switch them over. The old ones were worn out.”

  I thought about it, but didn’t remember seeing colored folders when I looked through her house.