UNSEEN

by Felicia Mires

  Chapter 3

  The moment has arrived for your come-uppance. You always thought you were so smart. I beat you then. I'll beat you now…and you haven't got a clue. You know, you're only making yourself appear more guilty. Thanks.

  Jeffrey Seymour worked in a very secure facility. Once Caleb and Miss Knox entered the glass double doors, they had to pass through a metal detector. There the journey ended abruptly.

  "What do you mean she can't enter the facility?" Caleb read the name on the security guard's tag. "Mike?"

  Mike shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir. She's not on the list. You can go up, but the lady will have to remain here. She's not a cop."

  "She's with me."

  The man looked from Caleb to Miss Knox, taking in her rather unusual appearance. "If you say so."

  "Mike, this badge says she goes. Do you know what it means to interfere with a criminal investigation? Obstruction of justice. I could arrest you."

  "Sign here." Mike held out a clipboard.

  Miss Knox added her name then passed the list to Caleb. He studied the names on it. "Does everyone sign in and out?"

  "Only guests without a pass. The regular employees use their I.D."

  "No one gets in or out of the building without going through this card reader?"

  "Right. It stamps the date and time, so we always know who's in the building."

  "Thank you, Mike."

  Caleb added his signature then escorted Miss Knox to the elevators.

  "What? You aren't going to make me climb the stairs?" She tipped her head to smile up at him.

  "Fifth floor. I doubt you could make it."

  "I'll let that pass, Detective, but only because I'm wearing stilettos."

  The doors slid open, and they walked into a spacious teak- paneled elevator.

  "I suppose you're thinking what I'm thinking," said Miss Knox.

  Caleb nodded. If security kept a record of who went in and out of the building, it would be easy to track Seymour's movements during the crucial time period. "We could break his alibi."

  "But you're still going to question his co-workers."

  "I need statements to build a case, no matter what the logs say."

  The elevator opened to the lobby of R. G. Wentworth & Associates, which meant Seymour's firm took up the entire floor. Caleb immediately asked to speak with the manager.

  The receptionist blinked then her gaze darted to Miss Knox. "The manager?"

  "Or whoever's in charge of all the people who work here."

  "That would be Mr. Wentworth."

  "Then I need to speak with Mr. Wentworth."

  She reached for the phone, and Miss Knox leaned close to Caleb. "I think I'm cramping your style. I'll just sit over there."

  She retreated to a grouping of tan upholstered chairs and started flicking through a magazine.

  A moment later, a silver-haired man with stooped shoulders, walked toward them. He nodded at Caleb. "Officer? May I help you? I'm Roger Wentworth."

  "Detective Forest." Caleb held out a hand. "I understand you had a gathering last night for your employees."

  "Ye-es, why?"

  "Would you have noticed whether or not Jeffrey Seymour was in attendance?"

  "He was, but from what I understand, he's already at the police station. Any particular reason you ask?"

  "There's been a murder. He's a person of interest. Are you saying he was in your field of vision for the duration?"

  "Jeffrey? He couldn't possibly…No, I didn't keep a constant eye on him. It was a party. People wandered about."

  "I really hate to ask this Mr. Wentworth, but I need to speak with these individuals." Caleb held out the list. "It would be easier if you had a conference room here, but I can take them all to the precinct if you prefer."

  Wentworth's eyes widened, but he took the list and scanned it. "Not everyone on this list is here. A couple of names are clients. They don't work here."

  "You have their contact information?"

  "Do you need a warrant for that?"

  "I'm asking for a phone number I can easily get in the phone book. Cooperation is in your best interest."

  "Fine." Wentworth tapped the list. "Do you want these people all at once or individually?"

  "All at once. You, too, if you don't mind, sir."

  "Do I have a choice?"

  "No, sir."

  Wentworth stepped to the receptionist, directed her to give Caleb the phone numbers of everyone on the list, and walked away. Caleb dropped into a seat beside Miss Knox and tried to avoid staring at her shapely legs. If Seymour turned out to be his killer, and Destiny Knox was cleared, there were a few things he'd like to say to his delectable sidekick.

  "Can you really do that?" she asked.

  Caleb's heart lurched. Was she reading his mind? "Which part?"

  "Can you take them all down to the station?"

  "If they don't cooperate. They can always refuse to speak without a lawyer present, but as an officer, I have the obligation to interview anyone who might have information pertaining to a criminal act."

  "You do that very well."

  He eyed her suspiciously. "What?"

  "That intimidation thing. I'm scared and I don't even have to answer questions."

  Actually, he had quite a few questions for Miss Knox, and they were growing by the hour. "Most people are nervous when interrogated by the authorities. It's a natural response."

  Mr. Wentworth stepped up to Caleb. "We're ready, Detective."

  When Miss Knox rose with Caleb, Mr. Wentworth looked at her askance then back at Caleb with a query in his eyes.

  "She's helping with my investigation. Mr. Wentworth…Destiny Knox."

  Professional manners forbade Mr. Wentworth from expressing displeasure as he shook hands with Miss Knox, but he did release her fingers quickly.

  "This way."

  They breezed into a glass-walled conference area with one long table in the center of the room. Every eye followed Caleb as he continued to the front. Destiny took a seat nearby and turned to face him.

  "I'm Detective Forest with the Trent City Police Department. There's been a homicide, and I need to ask you a few questions. Anything that comes to mind could be helpful." He held aloft a picture of the victim. "Do any of you recognize this woman?"

  Most shook their heads, but one woman looked at everyone else then back at the photo. Caleb zeroed in on her. "Ma'am, is she familiar? Has she ever come into the office?"

  "Well, I believe so. There's a picture just like that on Jeffrey Seymour's desk."

  "But you think she's been here. Did she speak with Jeffrey?"

  She glanced around the room again. Clearly, she didn't like being the center of attention. "Yes, she was in his office. I…I mentioned it to Jeffrey, about her being the woman in the frame on his desk, and he said she was his girlfriend."

  "Is that how it looked to you? Did they appear friendly…intimate?"

  "Not particularly. To tell you the truth, she acted fine when she came in, but she picked up that picture and got…annoyed. She left."

  "I don't mean to impugn your veracity, but I have to establish why you would notice such a scene. Were you in his office? Walking by?"

  "My desk faces his office."

  "Thank you. That's very helpful. Can you tell me how long ago this happened?" From the corner of his eye, Caleb noted Miss Knox scribbling notes at a furious pace.

  "A couple of weeks ago."

  "Not two months?"

  "Definitely not. Jeffrey was extremely put-out and demanded that I work through lunch. I had to cancel reservations with my husband."

  "If you could review your calendar and get a precise date, I'd appreciate it." Caleb glanced around the room. The personnel exhibited varying degrees of increased interest, either by leaning forward or maintaining eye contact. "I'd like to direct your attention to the events of last night. If you could help me establish a time line. When did this company party begin?"

  Every ey
e turned to Mr. Wentworth.

  "Around seven," he said. "We closed up here and went down to the lobby. There's a ballroom off the main floor."

  "Seven." Could Jeffrey Seymour have driven to the victim's house and returned in time for the party? "I need you to be more precise. Did anyone notice whether or not Jeffrey Seymour remained here until the party?"

  The same woman nodded. "He did. Since we were going to the party anyway, he suggested that we work through so I could leave early today. My son has an orthodontist appointment."

  "You stayed here in the office until seven. Then, what?"

  "It was actually about 6:45. I wanted to freshen up before we went downstairs. I didn't see him again."

  "You didn't see him again all night?"

  "I did." An older man lifted his hand. "I went down in the elevator with Jeffrey."

  "What time was that?" asked Caleb.

  "About ten til. I wanted to get a drink to stave off hunger until the food was served."

  "And how long did you and Mr. Seymour remain in each other's company?"

  "We parted at the door. Jeffrey doesn't drink."

  Caleb glanced around the table. Who was next? They were narrowing the window of opportunity bit by bit. He needed to put Seymour out of the building during the time his car was seen at the crime. "All right. Mr. Seymour entered the ballroom slightly before 7. Does anyone remember him after that?"

  "He was there," said Mr. Wentworth. "He was discussing how he would set up the accounts for the new clients."

  "Do you have any idea of the time?"

  Wentworth shook his head.

  "Was it shortly after the party started? Did you see him greet the guests? Was it after the food was served? Did he have food in his hands? Did they?"

  "Yes. I mean, it was quite some time later. The waiter went by with a dessert cart and took orders."

  "Fine, fine. Let's forget Mr. Seymour's movements for a moment and re-enact the chain of events…if each of you could share your part in the evening's activities. Was there a speaker? Introductions?"

  "I opened the evening by recognizing our new enterprise with the clients," said Mr. Wentworth.

  "Were there tables and chairs? Assigned seats?"

  "No, open seating."

  "Does anyone remember sitting by Mr. Seymour?" Caleb studied their blank faces. No one responded. "What happened next?"

  Another man raised his hand. "I talked briefly about the clients' product, asked their CEO to say a few words, then sat down. That was it."

  "What do you mean?"

  He shrugged. "We ate. There weren't many people walking around then, aside from the servers."

  Caleb nodded. "And no one remembers Mr. Seymour sitting at a table, eating dinner?"

  They all shook their heads.

  "After you ate, what then? Anything you can remember will help Mr. Seymour."

  "There was dancing. People wandered around chatting…drinking."

  "I talked to him after dinner." A young woman spoke up. "I don't know when."

  "Me, too. Sometime after dessert. We talked about chocolate versus coffee." Another woman.

  "And what time did the festivities break up?"

  Mr. Wentworth rubbed his chin. "I definitely saw Jeffrey then, around 9:30. He was helping a lady on with her jacket." He smiled. "She'd had a little too much to drink."

  Caleb nodded. "Basically, what you're telling me is that Mr. Seymour disappeared from just before seven until around eight, when the waiter came by with dessert."

  "We didn't actually say that, Detective." Mr. Wentworth looked a little too smug. "We don't know what time dessert was served."

  "I'm sure I can check that with the caterers. I'll need their names."

  Mr. Wentworth nodded. "Is that all?"

  "Yes, thank you for your patience. If you can think of anything else, don't hesitate to call. Here's my card."

  He moved to the door and waited as they left the room and took his card. Each one met his eyes without any problem, save the first woman who spoke up. She glanced away then back at him then at Mr. Wentworth, clearly nervous.

  Caleb smiled. "You were a great help. I'll need the date of that encounter with the victim. Please call if you remember anything else."

  She nodded then swiftly exited the room.

  Caleb turned on Mr. Wentworth. "I'm going to need access to Mr. Seymour's office."

  "Not without a court order. I won't have the privacy of my employees and my clients invaded on a whim."

  "If you let me search Seymour's office now, I won't have to empty every office on this floor."

  "Sorry. Get a warrant."

  "I'll also need a print-out of the security details for the times people entered and exited the building."

  "That isn't up to me, but I'm certain that whoever owns the building will require a warrant as well. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

  Mr. Wentworth vacated the room, and Caleb turned to Miss Knox. "We should go."

  Once they reached the car, Miss Knox twisted in her seat to study him but didn't speak. Caleb was glad. He wanted to mull over everything he'd just heard. There had to be a reason Wentworth seemed so confident. What did he know that Caleb didn't? Maybe he'd reviewed the log of departure times. If Jeffrey Seymour hadn't left the building, Caleb didn't have a case. And if Caleb didn't have a case, he'd have to investigate the lovely woman at his side.

  He reached for his phone. "Hey, Pemberly. I need a court order."

  "You get anything from the witnesses?"

  "Yeah. There's a gap in the timeline. I'd like a warrant for the whole building, but the judge will never go for that. Get me one for the security footage, the time logs that show when employees enter and exit, and one for Wentworth & Associates."

  "I'll get on it."

  "Thanks. Anything come in while I was out?"

  "Nada. Talk to you later."

  Caleb wanted another crack at Jeffrey Seymour, but he'd probably lawyer-up when he heard his alibi didn't pan out. It was worth a try.

  "What's next?" asked Miss Knox.

  "We wait for a warrant. For this, I'll need it in hand."

  "How long does that usually take?"

  "Hours. Sometimes immediately."

  She shook her head. "When there's a murderer loose?"

  "It is what it is. If someone wanted to barge in your home and search through your stuff, would you like it? The judge will have to be convinced we have a very good reason to tear apart that office."

  She twisted away and stared out the window. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to search her house. Was she worried? Why had she visited the victim? Why was she hiding the fact that she knew Seymour? Caleb was almost certain she did.

  "You look tired, Miss Knox. Ready to call it a day?"

  She glanced at her watch. "I can't believe it's so late. Wow! After five. Are you gonna quit now? Oh!" She grinned. "You've got a date. Sure, take me back. I don't wanna get in the way."

  "It's not like that."

  "Uh huh. Is that what Miss…um…Blake would say? How long have you been dating?"

  "I hardly think that falls within the ramifications of the murder investigation."

  "A month? Two months? You were very comfortable-looking with each other but not intimate."

  "None of your business. How long have you been writing? This is your first mystery?"

  She chuckled. "Deflection. You do that so well. We've already talked about my writing career. Why did you decide to become a cop?"

  "I don't know. It's just what I wanted."

  "Did you always want to investigate murders?"

  "Pretty much. But I did everything as a beat cop."

  "You like this more." She said it as a statement of fact, not a question.

  "I do."

  "Is it the prestige? The pay?"

  Caleb laughed. "The pay? Hardly. I like focusing on one thing instead of being splintered in a hundred different directions."

  "Don't you work more than one murder
at a time?"

  "I do, but we try to cover every angle of a new murder until it runs dry. Easier to catch the killer."

  "I bet. How many have you caught?"

  "You mean in a month?"

  "Right. You've been there a month. So?"

  "This is the first murder where I've taken lead."

  She tilted her head to stare at him. He wanted to run his finger around his collar or loosen his tie. Something. Why was she staring?

  Finally, she nodded. "You're the Primary Investigator. You'll do fine."

  "Thanks."

  "At the onset of an investigation, who do you look for as a suspect?"

  "If there are no signs of forced entry, as in this case, we look at family members, co-workers, friends, anyone who was close to the victim."

  "Family members." Miss Knox shuddered. "It's usually a relative?"

  "I'm afraid so or someone very close."

  "That's…horrible."

  "Sorry. It's like they say, there's a fine line between love and hate."

  He pulled into the precinct and parked. "Well, it's been…"

  "Fun." She laughed. "Yeah, I know." She opened her door and got out.

  Caleb leaned against the car. "Ok, then. See you tomorrow. Don't…"

  "Aa…aa…aa. Don't say it. Less color. I won't forget."

  "No…I was gonna say don't be late. If I have to go out…search Seymour's office..."

  She hesitated. "Will you go as soon as you have the warrant?"

  "Absolutely."

  "Would you call me…I mean, if you go?"

  What a way to get a woman's phone number. Caleb eased his card out of his wallet. "Write your number on this."

  She wrote it down then held it out. "Give me another card. I should have your number…in case I need you."

  Caleb grinned and nodded. "In case you need me."

  Caleb remained standing in the parking lot as Destiny Knox pulled away. She had a very nice car, Mercedes. Did she pay for it or did Daddy buy it? That was quite a building her old man owned. Where'd they get their money? Caleb shook his head. He couldn't stop being a cop for a second. Which reminded him. He and Pemberly needed to set up a murder board.

  When Caleb entered the station, he headed straight to his desk, ignoring the interested looks of other officers. By now, the entire precinct had probably heard of his new sidekick. What he wouldn't do for a little invisibility.