Stratagem

by Robin Caroll

  “I know how it looks and what you’re thinking,” Grayson started.

  “You have no idea what we’re thinking,” Danielle interrupted him. “We are simply following the evidence we uncover during the course of our thorough investigation.”

  Grayson made direct eye contact with Brandon. “It might appear that I tampered with the video. I can understand how that might seem, but I assure you, I didn’t.”

  “Or someone else could’ve done it at your request or on your behalf. Even without your knowledge,” Danielle said.

  Pam pushed the chair back so hard it scraped against the tile floor. “I’m sure that someone you’re referring to is me. Well, I didn’t.”

  “No one is accusing you.” But Brandon knew the implication from his partner was nothing more than a loosely veiled accusation.

  “Are you sure about that?” Pam stood, her hands going to her little hips.

  Grayson reached out and touched Pam’s arm. “Would you mind putting a pot of coffee on, please? I could sure use a cup.”

  She hesitated. “Sure.” She moved into the connecting kitchen. Cabinets were shut with a lot more force than necessary.

  Brandon chose to concentrate on Grayson. “Forensics will go over the file. If there’s any way to recover those eighteen minutes, you can bet that Kara’s team will.”

  Grayson nodded. “Good, because I want to know what was deleted. I need to know.”

  “You know.” Danielle jerked her head toward the kitchen. “She was with you at the scene of the crime this morning. She’s the one who offloaded the video file from the office server, and she sure seems to know her way around your kitchen.” She lifted her brows as she looked at Grayson, cocking her head as she did.

  Grayson shook his head. “I see where you’re going. Pam and I have never dated, aren’t dating, and have no intention of doing so.” He held up his hand, palm facing Danielle. “And before you go further, let me assure you that Pam and I have never been intimate, nor do we plan to be. We are friends, and she is my assistant at work. That’s it.”

  “Yet she’s here at nearly eight on a Monday night, the night after you found out your wife had been murdered.” Danielle crossed her arms over her chest.

  Grayson clamped his mouth shut tight and looked at Brandon, silently pleading with him to intercede.

  He couldn’t. Danielle was just doing her job. Despite Brandon’s own beliefs about the case, his partner was following up within the boundaries of department policy. He didn’t like it, knew—knew—Grayson had nothing to do with Anna Belle’s murder, but Danielle could follow her leads.

  “Coffee’s ready.” Pam spoke loudly from the kitchen.

  Grayson stood. “If y’all would like a cup…” He turned and left the room.

  Brandon stood and started to follow.

  Danielle grabbed his arm. “Even you have to admit how convenient it is that there is time missing from the video file,” she whispered.

  It did look suspicious, but Brandon believed Grayson and Pam’s explanation. “And they told us about it, which they didn’t have to volunteer.”

  Danielle frowned. “Are you kidding me? Grayson knows that Kara’s team is a beast and forensics would have detected the deletion from the get-go. Volunteer, my foot. They’re covering their rears.”

  “I don’t think so.” Yet there was no way to prove it. Unless forensics could recover the missing time. “We’ll see once the team has time to review it.”

  “Oh, I’m sure that’ll be interesting.” Danielle headed into the kitchen.

  Brandon pocketed his field notes and joined the rest of them.

  Grayson handed him a mug. “One sugar, right?” He smiled.

  “Yep. Thanks.” Brandon took a sip and then gestured toward the bag he’d put the rock and paper in to take for testing. “I’ll put a rush on those results. Maybe it’ll give us a lead as to who vandalized your truck and house.”

  “You really have no clue what that message means, exactly?” Danielle dug her hip into the side of the counter. She’d refused coffee, as if a cup were a peace offering.

  Grayson shook his head. “I’m assuming it has to do with Anna Belle’s death, but I really don’t know.”

  “Make a lot of enemies during the course of your job, do you?” Danielle asked. “I mean, after interviewing all the employees of Deets PR, I certainly can understand animosity toward you.” She ran a finger along her bottom lip, studying him. “Against your company, I mean.”

  “From the outside, I bet we do look cruel, but there are redeeming results in most all of the games we create. Often people can’t see the forest for the trees, to simplify.”

  “You point out the tree, I’m guessing?”

  Pam nodded. “As shocking as that sounds, yes. We help them not only to see the tree but to know what type of tree it is and how to care for it.”

  “Most people tell us later,” Grayson continued, “how much we helped them face a fear or a stumbling block, whatever the case may be. Through recognizing what was holding them back, they were able to make adjustments and work through it.”

  “So you help them is what you’re telling me.” Danielle still held the disbelief in her voice.

  “Yes. Most people do come back after a game and thank us. They tell us that the game helped them improve their life.”

  Danielle shook her head. “See, I’m not seeing how putting someone’s weakness out there for everyone to see is helping them. Or taking their fear and using it against them.”

  “It can be confusing,” Pam said. “That’s why Grayson is a licensed psychologist and we aren’t.” The sarcasm all but dripped off of her tongue.

  Before his partner could explode, Brandon turned to Grayson. “You mentioned there was something else you wanted to show me?”

  Grayson met Pam’s gaze. A whole conversation transpired between the two of them without either of them saying a word.

  The ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room echoed in the stifling silence.

  Finally Grayson cleared his throat. “Hang on. Let me get it.”

  He headed down the hall, his footsteps thudding.

  “What else have y’all been up to today, besides creeping around our crime scene and tampering with evidence?” Danielle asked Pam.

  Pam might have been a good two or so inches shorter than Danielle, and at least thirty pounds lighter, but when she narrowed her eyes and fisted her hands on her hips, she was just as intimidating. “Well, wouldn’t you just like to know?”

  Oil and water mixed better than these two women.

  Grayson returned holding a rolling carry-on suitcase. He sat it on the end of the kitchen bar. “This was left for Anna Belle’s mother at her hotel.”

  Danielle straightened immediately. “We’re supposed to meet with her tomorrow.”

  Grayson nodded. “She mentioned that.”

  “What’s this?” Brandon asked.

  Grayson let out a low breath. “It’s Anna Belle’s. From the house.”

  “What?” Danielle’s eyes bugged. “How did you get this? What did you take out of it?”

  “Nothing.” He held both hands up in mock surrender. “Nothing. Monique brought it over here, and we opened it together.” Quickly he showed the front pockets’ contents of clothes and her makeup bag. “And here’s her backup EpiPen. She carried the other in the makeup bag in her purse.”

  “This is evidence in an investigation.” Danielle was already pulling her gloves on. “You should know better than to touch this.”

  “Yeah, well, I did.” Grayson ran a hand over his hair. “I wasn’t thinking. Monique came here and wanted to know what was in the suitcase but didn’t want to open it herself.”

  Brandon donned his gloves as well. “What else?”

  “Look in the main area.” Grayson’s voice cracked.

  Danielle unzipped the main compartment and opened the flap. She let out a little gasp and flashed a little smile at Brandon. “The missin
g mask and doll.”

  Grayson nodded. “They were props in—”

  “In the game,” Danielle finished. “Yes, we know.” Her eyes were cold as she stared at Grayson. “I’m sure these props helped the recipients, right?”

  Grayson didn’t take the bait. “Monique said the hotel couldn’t say who left the suitcase for her. Perhaps you might get a better answer.”

  “I’m sure we will.” Danielle put the mask back in and reached for the voodoo doll.

  It was creepy. No wonder Georgia had freaked out. Even without having any personal experience with voodoo, that doll alone gave Brandon the heebie-jeebies.

  She lifted the doll, and a trifold pamphlet moved. “What’s this?”

  Grayson’s quick intake had Brandon studying his friend’s face for microexpressions. He didn’t miss the split second of tightness around his mouth and eyes. Nor the little beads of moisture that dotted just above his upper lip.

  Without knowing exactly why, Brandon knew this brochure meant a lot to Grayson Thibodeaux. He reached for it, snatching it out of the suitcase before Danielle could.

  It was a brochure from Scheduled Maternity that listed their services. An appointment card was attached to it, listing Anna Belle’s name and a date of approximately eight months ago.

  Brandon wasn’t married nor was he seriously involved with anyone, but he knew what this clinic was and what it did. He slowly tore his gaze from the brochure to his friend’s face.

  Grayson’s face was ashen, and the muscles taut, but it was the immense agony in his eyes that told Brandon everything he needed to know about what he held in his hand.

  And while he empathized for the obvious pain his friend was in, as a cop, he also knew that what he held offered even more motive for Grayson to have murdered Anna Belle.

  EIGHTEEN

  “Has forensics been able to recover those deleted minutes from the video file?” Grayson blurted out as soon as Brandon and Danielle walked into the interrogation room of the police station Tuesday morning.

  “You don’t get to ask questions here, Mr. Thibodeaux.” Danielle scraped the metal chair against the floor. She sat diagonally from him, opened her notebook over the closed file folder, and tapped her pen against the table. “You’re here to answer our questions.”

  He looked at Brandon, but his friend diverted his gaze as he took his seat beside Danielle, directly across from Grayson.

  Guess that told him loud and clear where he stood this morning. And what a morning he’d already had at the service center. Thank goodness they opened at seven on weekdays so he could buy four new tires and have them mounted before his nine o’clock appointment with the police. He had a really strong feeling Danielle wouldn’t have been understanding if he’d been late.

  “We’ve gotten a lot of your preliminary statement at your house on Sunday evening and then again last night.” Brandon flipped through pages in the folder he held.

  Grayson recognized it for what it was—a stalling tactic to make him feel like he was being judged (which he was) and make him wonder what all information they had in their file (which he did) and generally make him uncomfortable (which he most definitely was). He squared his shoulders and sat up straight in his chair. Let them see he wasn’t intimidated. He had done nothing wrong.

  Brandon continued flipping pages for another minute or so, then closed the folder and set it on the table. He pulled out a notebook and smoothed it open before clicking his pen. “Let’s start with the game you created for Deets PR.”

  Grayson nodded. He’d talked with his attorney, Ian Lancaster, this morning, who had strenuously advised not to meet with the police without him present. Grayson knew, however, how the police interpreted someone lawyering up and didn’t want to give them more fuel for their witch hunt. While he’d declined having Ian present—for the time being—he did take all Ian’s other advice seriously, which meant, in this case, waiting until an actual question was asked.

  Brandon paused for a moment, then realized Grayson wasn’t going to volunteer information. “Colton brought you this particular contract?”

  “Yes.” He stared directly at Brandon. He could play this game too. In fact, he could play it better. He was the one in the room with a degree in psychology.

  “What was your initial reaction?”

  “I thought it was a bad idea of course.” Oops, Ian told him not to throw in “of course” or “naturally” or similar phrases. Stick to answering the direct questions, preferably with a yes or no if at all possible.

  A pause.

  “Why is that?” Danielle jabbed her pen into the table. Ah, her frustration was showing.

  This might be more entertaining than he’d thought. He widened his eyes and stared straight at her. “Because my ex-wife worked for Deets PR.” He might not be able to add on a duh, but he could definitely look it.

  Then he remembered the camera in the corner of the room and relaxed his expression. He’d never before realized how much like a fish in a fishbowl people in the hot box felt.

  “Care to elaborate?” Danielle’s expression said everything her tone might have mistakenly implied.

  Ian would have to forgive him. “I thought it was a bad idea for my company to create the type of game they requested for a company my ex-wife worked for when she’d be participating.” He included Brandon in his stare. “Additionally, I’m opposed to creating a game for participants who don’t realize they’re actually playing in a game, despite whatever legal waiver they sign.”

  “Yet you did create it?” Danielle pressed.

  He should’ve listened to Ian. Grayson sighed. “I did.”

  “Why? If it went against your better judgment on multiple levels, why did you do it?” Brandon asked.

  He’d walked right into those questions, the same questions that he asked himself over and over. “My partner brought the deal to me. I opposed it, but we are a partnership, so just one of us doesn’t make decisions alone.”

  Grayson remembered the heated discussion with Colton and repeated his partner’s arguments now. “As the game was for a PR firm, we could most likely count on good future business exposure by their recommendation not only to their clients but also to other companies looking for innovative ways to determine promotions, bonuses, or any type of reward program. Also to other PR firms, who would then recommend us to their clients and contacts. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. The possibilities could be endless. Not to mention that the fee that Deets PR had agreed to was one of biggest, because it would be on location, meaning we’d have to provide staff around the clock and the particular details of the custom creation.”

  When he said it aloud, Grayson understood why he’d eventually agreed with Colton. “In the end, the long-term benefits would outweigh my personal misgivings, so I agreed with my business partner that it would be best for the company.”

  Danielle and Brandon both made notes. Grayson sat still, refusing to look at the camera. Everyone would go back and review his expressions and mannerisms. Pretty much like he analyzed people on the monitors during a game. The irony gut-punched him.

  “You agreed, knowing you would be the one creating the game. The”—Danielle flipped through pages in her notebook—“team leader, right?”

  “Yes.” He should stick with Ian’s advice.

  She flipped through more pages. “Okay, I’m going to need a little help here. You get all this information from those people—who don’t know they’re playing a game, by the way—and what do you do with it? The financial statements, medical records, extensive questionnaire. I don’t follow.”

  He hated to go against Ian’s instructions, but explaining exactly what he did was complicated and couldn’t be answered with a few words. Grayson nodded. “Deets had requested that we create events that would help them determine how their four employees worked under pressure, worked individually, worked as a team, and dealt with conflict. The strongest triggers for the human psyche are finances, health, and emotional issues
.”

  Both Brandon and Danielle were listening carefully, so he continued. “By compiling the data from the individuals, we can find the pressure points in each of those key areas and push them. When people’s buttons are pushed, so to speak, they react in a manner that is truly reflective of who they are at their core. You can see examples of heroism and integrity, as well as some of the more unflattering traits, such as selfishness and cruelty.”

  “Some might say that what you do is cruel,” Danielle said, but the edge wasn’t in her voice. At least it wasn’t as obvious to Grayson as before.

  “True, and to some degree, it is, but in the fields of psychiatry and psychology and even basic medicine, exposing the hurt, the wound, the tumor, if you will, makes the person aware of it. No one can get better without treatment, and if you don’t know what’s wrong, you can’t treat it.”

  “Are you comparing people’s fears and insecurities to cancer?” And the hardness was back in her tone.

  “In a way, yes. Anything in a person that has the capability to harm or destroy them. A tumor is a good comparison because it’s an abnormality, but you don’t know on first inspection if it’s malignant or benign. Tests have to be run to determine that. Just like tests have to be run on people to see if their fears and insecurities will be a detriment to them or not.”

  Both detectives were silent. Grayson could only hope they absorbed the truth in what he explained. In what he did. That was the main reason he’d left the consulting job and gone into business with his old college friend. Despite Anna Belle’s constant bemoaning of how a doctor should make more money than a civil servant, Grayson needed to feel like, in his own way, he helped people improve their lives.

  “In this particular case, what did you use for each of the four employees?” Brandon broke the silence. “And before you ask, I checked with the DA’s office, and the waiver the four of them signed covers your explanation of game details to us.”

  Check mark by one of Ian’s warnings. “Well, Wednesday night was all about knocking each of them off center. To get them off their game by having them deal with something that was one of their pressure points.” The hardness of the metal chair made him want to adjust his weight, but he knew how they’d read that on the video playback. “With Anna Belle, it was cooking, which she hated and didn’t know how to do. With Georgia, it was changing the oil in a car, because she hated to get dirty, and getting on a floor under a car and changing the oil is one of the dirtiest jobs there is. With Hugh, it was getting him up on the widow’s walk because he had an intense fear of heights. And with Franklin, it was having him clean the fish pond because he detested slimy things.”