by Kieran York
“I’ve got friends in high places. Some are hunters, but none of them are sharpshooters.”
My turn to smirk. I stood. “I have friends in all kinds of places.” Considering what Mandy Jewel had told me last night, I also had an image. Doc Rhodes wrangling with high-priced escorts for payment. “You can bet I know all about this town. And what I don’t know, my friends can fill in the blanks.”
Perplexed, Dr. Rhodes frowned as he struggled to rid his face of displeasure.
I stopped by the front office only to find that Ross Milton was at the Perrault Mansion. He was assisting Glenda with making funeral arrangements. Because Perrault Cosmetics was in West Palm, as was the home of Olga Carleton, I would stop by the Carleton home first, before going back to Palm Beach.
When I reached my car, I sat, plotting my route. I called to check in with Summer. Her text mentioned they were doing more tests. Rachel was groggy from pain medication, but she was improving. My return text explained what I’d found out from Rhodes.
Finally, when I got to speak directly with Summer, she reported that she’d talked with Chief Powers. Tom had repeated his prior agreement with me. He would have reports sent to us, along with whatever else he deemed important. Summer had also spent part of the morning contacting her confidential informants. Most of Summer’s C.I. were low-budget, on the street, types. Great for finding druggies and dredges. But billionaires and socialites – not so much. I would be surprised if any of them could garner much information on anyone in the higher stratosphere of Palm Beach.
I mentioned that I wanted to visit Olga, and then go on to the Perrault residence. I needed to check on Ross Milton. Also, I wanted to see how Glenda was holding up. Summer agreed to stay with Rachel. She hadn’t made any arrangements to do anything other than work her lists. She would pour over the reports that we were privy to, compliments of Chief Powers and his concern that Rachel’s shooter be found.
“Thanks, Summer. That will give me extra time at the Perraults. I can check the outside, and check some of the household employees.” Since we’d only been on the job a couple days, I hadn’t had a chance to get to know any of them.
“I recall they weren’t friendly. But we were outside security, so naturally they thought of us as interlopers. I didn’t see any friction between employers. But they would have looked at me as a spy if I’d dug too deeply.”
“Is Rachel still improving?”
“Yes,” Summer answered with a bantering laugh. “I’m seeing a little romance between Rachel and Doc Hanna.”
“Romance?” I disputed. “Rach is too wounded for thinking about women.” I paused. “But Hanna Zachary is gorgeous.” I shrugged with curiosity.
“If she can’t heal Rachel, who can?”
“Summer, have fun with your reports. And make certain our partner doesn’t get herself into any trouble.”
We laughed. We had nearly lost a member of Trevar’s Team, as we became known. Previously, we were called The Radclyffe-Hull Trio. Coined by Tom, originally, it was also what the media called us. When we asked to be known as Trevar’s Team, they were happy to oblige. After all, we’d just solved a large murder case, so they would have called us anything we’d have liked. Rachel and Summer had decided on Trevar’s Team. I was outvoted.
I drove swiftly to get the Olga Carleton interrogation completed. Upon arrival, I took note of a well-kept, modern, small home. While I didn’t believe anyone with a dozen bird feeders hanging outside would make a good murder suspect, I had to inquire.
Olga had been watching TV. I had to press the doorbell for nearly five minutes. Finally, the door fanned open. Before me was a middle-aged woman that might well have been any housewife in the city. Nothing distinguishing to set her apart, I thought – until she opened her mouth.
“I already talked with your other asshole detectives,” she announced in one of the gruffest, gravelly voice I’d ever heard. “I have no damned idea why the hell you’re bothering me.”
“I just have a few questions. May I come in?” I would allow her to believe I was police investigator until she asked me for my badge. Then I’d quickly flip my P.I. credentials. “I know it’s an imposition, but we want to get this crime solved quickly. I want to eliminate you from our list of suspects.”
Following her inside, I took note of the living room. A very normal looking home. A very ordinary looking woman. She flopped on the chair. I sat across from her on the sofa. Finally, she spoke. “Do I look like I go out killing people? I’m the victim here.” She reached for her eye patch. She’d forgotten to put it on. Fancy that.
“I agree. May I call you Olga? You can call me Beryl.”
“That’s a funny name.”
I smiled a hard smile. “Yes. Olga, do you have an alibi for where you might have been?”
“Me and the Mr. were here all day.”
I saw an eye patch on the end-table. She hadn’t had time to toss it over her eye. That was her reason for blinking and rubbing her eye.
“Does Mr. Carleton have a rifle?”
“Your other detective asked that already. No guns here. I wouldn’t allow guns in my home.”
“Relatives or friends – anyone you know who might be a sharpshooter?”
“My son has a gun. He wasn’t allowed to keep it in the house. It was out in the shed. Most young fellas have a gun. But now my son, Andrew, lives in Miami. He took it with him when he moved out. Constantly I fought with him about not have a weapon here. I love Andy, but the kid never minded me.”
“What does he do for a living?
Her hand covered her eyes a moment. “He’s a cop.” She pointed out a photograph of him. He was indeed a Miami officer all decked out in his uniform.
“I hope he minds his commanding officer better than he minds his mother,” I commented, jokingly.
“Hell, I couldn’t get him to make his bed. He gets commendations now.”
Cop with commendation, not high on my suspect list. I mentioned, “Nice that you have a policeman son. I read about your court case with Perrault Cosmetics.”
Her eyes began blinking. “I have to live with bad vision.”
“Rotten that you got such a small settlement,” I commiserated.
“I’m glad Wendell Perrault died. Too bad the bitch didn’t get killed, too. If they would have paid me the twenty-five million, I wouldn’t be so angry.”
I stood. “If I would have been your attorney, I wouldn’t have recommended such a large amount. I would have had you settle for five million dollars.”
“Good thing you aren’t a damned attorney. Nobody asks for only five.”
“I actually am an attorney. And a good one. You would have had a five million payoff instead of the hundred-grand you’ve probably already spent.”
Looking dumbfounded, she uttered, “We got that shit lawyer, and he said we should think big. It would get their attention.”
“You pissed off the corporation. They don’t mind shooing flies. But they’ll knock the stuffing out of crows carrying artillery.” Turning, I strolled down the sidewalk. After getting into my car, I glanced back. Olga was still leaning against the door’s frame. I doubted if she’d get much more done than daydreaming of five million dollars this afternoon.
I, however, had another appointment on my agenda.
The journey from the Perrault Corporate Offices had taken longer than expected. Then, stopping by for a visit with Olga also chomped time. The return to Palm, was also time consuming. Sometimes the bridges were clogged. My wait was used for good. I texted Summer only to find that she was wading through reports and had found nothing interesting. Rachel was feeling much better, and borrowed Summer’s phone to leave me a text.
That, I assumed was Summer and Rachel going against the instructions of Hanna. I shook my head. At least I didn’t worry about a text tearing stitches out of Rachel’s lung.
There was no normalcy since yesterday morning when I got the call that Rachel had been shot. This was new territory. One
of the two women I most loved in the world was shot. The combination changed. I’d always felt that our profession made us vulnerable. But the vulnerability lived next door. Now it had moved in on us.
I put my phone away, crossed the bridge, and drove to the Perrault Mansion.
There were several people there, presumably they were executives from Perrault. The mansion had become a satellite office. I spotted Glenda across the room. She beckoned to me, pointing toward a room off to the side. As I entered she squeezed the door closed. “Have a seat, Beryl. We need to talk about our arraignment.”
I pensively sat. She seemed in total control. Her tall, shapely glamour was in full ‘take-charge’ mode. Employees had called her authoritative, and also brash. Although there was a saccharine eloquence about her, it didn’t seem phony. “Yes,” I murmured.
“I first wanted to check to see how Rachel’s doing. She saved my life. I called the hospital earlier and spoke with Summer. I couldn’t speak to Rachel, but I conveyed my gratitude.”
“Rachel’s a fighter, so she’s doing as well as possible. And how are you doing?”
“I’m also a fighter.” Her eyes lowered. “I wanted to talk with you about our contract. At this time, I’ve taken over the use of the corporate bodyguards as my personal bodyguards. They had been watching Wendell. They’re already on the payroll. What I had in mind was to pay your firm the full end-of-contract amount. That would pay off your service contract. However, because you won’t be security, I want to hire you for your services as private investigators instead.”
I breathed deeply. I had expected after her first few sentenced, that she would be dumping our firm. “To be honest, we have already started an investigation into the shooting.”
“I’d assumed that you had.” She opened her desk drawer to pulled out a deposit slip. Into Trevar Investigators, Inc., she had deposited a chunky amount of money. As she handed the paper to me, she added, “This will take care of bodyguard fees. Please let my assistant, Ms. Cerilo, know about any expenses. She’ll see that you’re reimbursed.”
Glancing down at the numbers on the check, I felt the shock of amazement. “A quarter million dollars?”
“Yes. And another quarter mil if you find who committed the murder. An incentive bonus. I want this case solved.”
“Very generous of you. And we were told that you’re going to make certain all of Rachel’s medical bills will be paid.”
“The least we can do. She was our employee at the time she was hurt.”
“We are going to find the person or persons responsible.”
“The Chief of Homicide rattled on about how it was a paid hitman and that’s the most difficult crime to solve. I wasn’t terribly reassured by his demeanor.”
“Tom Powers isn’t an optimist, but he is a decent detective.”
Doubt covered her face. “He continued to ask me about my marriage. If Wendell and I were feuding. I continued to ask him why I would pay someone to shoot my husband and to shoot me.”
“He was asking standard questions. I also have a battery of them.”
We sat on opposite sides of the small antique desk. “Have at,” she said with a shrug. “I can’t imagine what my motive might have been. I love…loved my husband.”
“I’m just guessing, but one motive you might have had is money.”
She laughed, not the sparkling laugh she used for television promotions. This laugh was with slight irony wrapped around it. “Money. Ten years ago, I married Wendell. He was having money problems. Loans for growing the business. Then there was Curtis Rhodes. He was trying to gouge the company. Wendell’s ex-wife had helped herself to another bundle of money for some post-divorce deal. A house she owned had liens. Not that either Wen or I held that against her. We both just wanted her out of our hair.”
“I heard that Peggy wanted the marriage dissolved. She didn’t lose any time, sold, rented, and moved to the other side of the country.”
“I’m impressed with your information gathering,” she stressed. Her eyebrows raised. “I truly am impressed.”
“No children from his first marriage?”
“Wendell and Peggy talked about it, but as time went on she saw the writing on the wall. And Wendell and I married ten years ago. He was fifty and I was half that. He claimed he was old enough to be a child’s grandfather. This company became our child. We were attentive to it, so we had little spare time. Some people think that I didn’t want my nails broken by changing diapers.” She leaned forward, “But I guess I wouldn’t mind being encumbered,” she said with a chuckle.
“Did Wendell make you feel encumbered?” My rapid-fire question surprised her.
“Wendell was the type that never felt threatened. Being a handsome man with wealth wasn’t what gave him confidence. His confidence was a part of him. He wasn’t the one concerned about death threats. I was concerned he would be hurt. I insisted that additional security be provided. Beryl, I know how it looks when a young woman marries an older man. In the last ten years, I never once strayed. I was never tempted.”
“And I’m guessing that you don’t think he would have strayed?”
“We were together nearly all the time. I would have known if he cheated.”
“Can you think of any motive, or anything that might be construed to be a motive?”
“I recognize that money and other men would be the motives that investigators question first. As for money, Wendell would have handed me anything I wanted. And I explained, Wendell was the man I wanted.”
Pausing, I bit my lower lip. I could feel my brows drawing closer. “You’re sure there isn’t another man in your life?”
“Not a one.” Her body language told me she was beginning to be miffed. “Look, I had nothing to do with this or any murder. It might behoove you to find the person writing notes, phoning, and making threats. I believe that person is the one responsible.” Her shoulders eased, and her expressions softened slightly.
I was glad that the auto deposit had already gone through the banking system. I continued without a trace of confrontation. “How about Ross Milton?”
“He’s the corporation’s public relations genius.” She frowned. “Where did you get that?”
“In passing, someone said you two were close. And it was mentioned that Ross and Wendell were at odds from time to time.”
“Of course, we’re close. He works all the promotions. I spent more time with him than anyone else here. But he’s never been more than an employee, and a friend. And my husband trusted me. They had a few different ideas of promotion. Wen didn’t have a creative thought in his head. He tried not to admit it.” She walked to the door and opened it slowly. “My friend, Ross, is in the den. Just take a right. We’ll both be glad to take a polygraph.”
My smile was with both eyes and lips. “I appreciate your cooperation, Glenda. And I thank you for hiring Trevar Investigators, as well as for your generosity.” Naturally, the fact that the add-on quarter million bonus to find the killer was a reason not to suspect her. Offering up polygraphs was another reason. But experience is a strict teacher. Lots of guilty people offer rewards. They mistakenly guess that takes them off the suspect list.
As for the letters threatening Wendell. We had checked out some of them, and nothing came of it. That usually doesn’t make sense. Why warn someone with death threats? That would only assist the victim to become better prepared. Hire more bodyguards, which was just what Wendell did. The more guards, the more difficult a murder would be come.
There seems always to be different renditions of murder. Some minimal profiling helps, but directions change.
The den was equipped with bookcases, trophies, logos of Perrault Cosmetics, and splendidly selected furnishing. Ross Milton was seated on a small sofa. Stacks of paper, photos, and samples of cosmetics were on a dynamically large coffee table in front of him.
As he looked up, I entered and quickly sat in a chair that had been pulled up directly across from the attractive ma
n. I guessed he was in his mid-forties. Handsome, thick grayish-blond hair, and eyes bluish gold.
With irony, his well-modulated voice said, “Come right in have a seat.”
“I’m Beryl Trevar, and our boss, Glenda, suggested I speak with you. I’m investigating.”
“I know who you are.” His grin was boyish, and lush. Thin fingers directed his stylish haircut to the side. It was apparent that he was in great shape, and probably worked out at least twice a week. Toned, but not bodybuilder ripped. “So how can I help you?”
“I’m interviewing Perrault’s employees. I want to see if anyone has any information. Or suspicions.”
“To be honest, I didn’t really work that closely with Wendell. We saw the company going up two different paths. His was solid old company. Mine was light, breezy, well-tailored to womanhood. Goddess. Make them all feel like goddesses. He just wanted them to look the part.” Ross’s resonant voice chuckled. “I wanted the product to allow a woman to be the goddess.”
“And where did Glenda stand on the two viewpoints?”
“She was in the middle. Probably more on my side. A modern woman. But Wendell was a funny guy where Glenda was concerned. He pretty much ended up agreeing with her on what she wanted.”
“Someone mentioned that Wendell thought you might be having an affair with Glenda.”
His laugh was almost rehearsed. “I told Glenda that we should tell Wendell about me.”
My frown was automatic. “Yes?”
“Glenda insisted that the allegation of Glenda and myself was good for my reputation.”
“I’m slightly confused,” I uttered with bewilderment.
“You can keep a secret?”
“If I can’t, I’m in the wrong business.”
“I’m gay,” he announced. “Wendell might have wondered about Glenda and my closeness, but he trusted her. Glenda vowed never to tell, when I came out to her. No matter what anyone says, gay rights are limited protection. We’re in a conservative area. I’m interfacing with some first-class haters. They think I’m a playboy. You know what I’m saying. I’m certain some people have refused to hire you because you are part of that wild trio of lesbians.”
