“I didn’t say you did,” he remarked matter-of-fact while eyeing her with that same doubtful look.
Despite his words, she was almost certain he was toying with the idea that she had been involved in Wiley’s murder. She wanted to be helpful, but her head was already swimming with the horrifying images of Wiley murdered in his chair and someone stalking her from another office, possibly intending to kill her as well. She didn’t know how to respond to the detective’s line of question or even rationally think what her rights were in a murder investigation. The detective was already suspicious of her, and she didn’t want to add to it by asking for a lawyer. She needed someone who was thinking clearly to come to her rescue, but she found herself without a friend in the world. She needed Tonya or Sal to stop the detective’s snide insinuations.
“Detective, give it a rest,” a male voice announced from behind the tired looking detective.
Sgt. Grimm turned and stared at a tall, well-built man in his mid-thirties. The man was neatly dressed in a suit that screamed federal agent. If Lee had been capable of rational thinking, she probably would have thought this newcomer a handsome man, but it was the furthest thing from her mind.
“I’m sorry,” Grimm announced in a stern tone as his eyes narrowed at the stranger. “You are--?”
“Special Agent Holden Falcone with the FBI,” he announced firmly while flipping his badge open. The badge disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “I’m the one taking over this murder investigation.” His badge was back in his pocket before Lee even saw it. “I think, detective, your time would be better spent accompanying the guard to the security office and having a look at the surveillance video around the time of the murder. If we’re lucky, maybe you’ll have this case solved before I’ve finished interviewing the young lady.”
Sgt. Grimm opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, and smirked his displeasure. He indicated Lee in the nearby chair.
“She’s all yours. Be my guest.”
Lee watched the detective walk away then looked at Agent Holden Falcone. Now that she finally took in an eyeful of her white knight, she realized he was a surprisingly handsome man with dark, neatly trimmed hair and the darkest eyes she’d ever seen. He sat on the arm of a chair across from where she sat and studied her a moment.
“You were the last person to see the accountant alive, correct?” Holden asked politely, although it was more of a statement than an actual question.
At least he used a less accusing tone than the detective, which helped ease some of her tension. Lee nodded her response and then watched him suspiciously. She’d never actually met a federal agent before and wasn’t sure if he too was attempting to trick her into admitting something that wasn’t true.
“You didn’t touch anything in his office?” he questioned. “You left it exactly as it was?”
“The moment I saw the blood, I got out of there,” she informed him then leaned forward. “I swear, Agent--?” Lee held her pounding head and attempted to recall his name. She couldn’t even think straight anymore. “I’m sorry--”
“It’s Agent Falcone,” he offered.
“Yes, Agent Falcone,” she replied and met his gaze with a serious yet frightened look. “I saw someone enter one of the offices. Whoever killed Wiley was still on the nineteenth floor when I found his body.”
“The responding officers didn’t find anyone on any of the other floors and neither the front nor back door alarms were tripped,” he announced. “The fire stairs or the elevator would be the only way off that floor.”
“There’s the penthouse elevator, but that requires a special access card,” she informed him. She wasn’t even sure why she mentioned that.
Agent Falcone stared at her a moment and appeared to be thinking about her comment. “So someone coming from the penthouse within the private elevator could arrive on the nineteenth floor and return to the penthouse unnoticed?”
“Well, yes, I suppose,” she began, “but the only one in the penthouse is my boss.”
“Salvatore Romano?”
As Lee stared at the handsome federal agent, a thousand thoughts raced through her mind. Was he accusing her boss of killing Wiley? She knew that wasn’t possible. Sal wasn’t a killer. Everyone knew he was a sweet man.
“That elevator has access to the parking garage on ground level,” she informed him matter-of-fact. She finally felt her head clearing and rational thought returned to her. “If someone illegally obtained an access key and the security code--”
“They could have left through the parking garage undetected,” he remarked. “We’ll check the security cameras and see what they reveal.”
“It’s private access, Agent Falcone,” she informed him. “Private in the sense that no one records those coming and going from the penthouse.”
“Does Mr. Romano have something to hide, Miss Whitley?” he suddenly asked.
“No, he’s just rich,” she blurted out and immediately regretted it. She hesitated then shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “That makes him paranoid about his privacy.”
Agent Falcone nodded without offering much emotion, although she could tell there was something more beyond his expression. Certainly, he wasn’t suggesting her boss was in any way a bad man, because she knew him well enough to know he was just a lonely rich guy. Mostly everyone knew him to be a gentle, kind man, who treated his employees like family. Holden extended a business card and stared directly into her eyes.
“If you think of anything, don’t hesitate to call me,” he announced.
She uncertainly accepted the card while maintaining eye contact with him. That he continued to stare at her made her uncomfortable. She wanted to know what was hiding behind that look. He seemed to know more than he was willing to offer.
“Should I call you a cab?”
“Uh, no,” she replied softly and stood with some difficulty. Her legs felt shaky beneath her. “My car is in the garage.” Lee then hesitated, remembered her missing jacket with her car keys, and looked around. “I, uh, came back in for my jacket. I left my car keys in the pocket.”
Holden now stood as well, looked back at one of the officers, and indicated the jacket lying on the counter. The officer brought it to him. Holden showed it to Lee.
“Is this it?”
“Yes,” she replied and accepted her jacket with a trembling hand, almost certain Agent Falcone noticed.
“The security guard found it on the desk behind the counter,” Holden announced.
“I, uh, guess it fell behind the desk when I was signing out,” she replied timidly.
Lee removed her car keys and attempted to hold them in her trembling hands. Agent Falcone seemed to be watching her every movement, possibly searching for something that would tell him more about her. She felt almost intimidated by his actions.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he announced a little too eagerly for her comfort.
It didn’t seem as if she really had a choice. She couldn’t help but feel the federal agent was up to something, but she didn’t know what. She nodded and walked along the corridor with him.
†
Lee walked alongside Agent Falcone across the parking garage in silence, listening to the horrendous sound her shoes made while clopping along the concrete floor. The echoing sound of her high heels with every step was nearly deafening. She cast a glance at the federal agent’s profile, knowing something was going through his mind, but she doubted he’d be willing to share his thoughts or theories. She just hoped he wasn’t trying to figure out how she killed Wiley.
“How well do you know Salvatore Romano?” he finally asked, breaking the silence.
She cast a quick glance at him. “Well enough to know he’s not a killer.”
“So you’ve dispelled any rumors that he’s connected,” Holden announced.
“Connected?” she asked with surprise, realizing she stared at him longer than she should have. “You think Sal’s a mobster?” Lee laughed for the first
time, although it seemed forced. “The guy’s a teddy bear. You’ve got the wrong guy.”
Lee paused before her car and fumbled with her car keys. As she pressed the automatic unlock button, the beeping of the car nearly caused her to jump out of her shoes.
“Did your co-worker seem upset by anything tonight? Was he acting strangely?”
As she turned to look at the well-dressed federal agent, her nerves were already shot by everything she’d been though. She wanted to respond irrationally and curse him out, but something made her stop and reevaluate her situation.
“Wiley was going through a nasty divorce,” she replied gently. “He’d been nothing but doom and gloom since his wife left him, which is understandable. He planned to come out with me and another co-worker tonight.” She then remembered Tonya was waiting for her.
“At ‘The Roadside’,” Holden replied.
She stared at him with some surprise, allowing her mouth to fall open. “H-how did you know?”
“Because he was meeting me there tonight as well,” he replied but offered nothing else, leaving her moderately stunned. “You have my card. If you think of anything at all, call me.”
Agent Falcone politely opened her car door for her. She stared at him a moment longer while a thousand thoughts raced through her mind. Her mind had been cluttered enough already. She didn’t know what to do with this new information suddenly thrust upon her. Why had Wiley contacted a federal agent? Why had he made plans to meet with him on such short notice? Agent Falcone obviously knew more about what happened than he led on. When it became apparent he wasn’t going to explain his relationship with Wiley, she decided to let it go. As Lee climbed into the driver’s seat of the car, he casually closed the door behind her. She started the car then glanced at the federal agent standing just a few feet from her window. He was still watching her. Lee couldn’t wait to get home, hide under the covers for the entire weekend, and try to forget everything she’d been through tonight.
Chapter Five
Lee entered her sparsely decorated, studio apartment and bolted the door behind her. She leaned her forehead against the door a moment and drew a shaken breath. Now that her adrenalin rush had worn off, she was left feeling sluggish and exhausted. She finally straightened, tossed her keys into a decorative bowl on the table near the door, and slung her purse down. The contents scattered across the table. Lee groaned with disgust, held her head, and started to cry. She finally controlled her emotions and, with a trembling hand, stuffed the contents back into her bag. The silver tube resembling lipstick rolled behind the decorative bowl on the table just out of sight. Lee composed herself and carried her purse with her across the apartment and into her bedroom. She set her purse on a chair within her darkened bedroom then kicked off her shoes with added vigor and disgust. She wanted to cry, but she would save that for when she was in the shower. She tended to release a lot of emotion in the shower, which was ridiculous, since there was no one else living with her to see her weeping. She needed a glass of wine to calm her nerves before showering and crying herself silly.
As she headed back into the main apartment and toward the kitchen, there was a knock on the door. Lee jumped with surprise and stared at the door as if it were a monster prepared to attack. Her heart was pounding within her chest. She didn’t know who would be at her door, being it was nearly eight o’clock. Her neighbors never bothered her, and she rarely received unannounced company. Lee slowly approached the door and looked through the peek hole. Her heart rate slowed and she allowed her body to relax when she saw Tonya outside her door. Lee unbolted and opened the door to reveal her friend. Tonya stared at her as if she’d seen a ghost then threw her arms around her, holding her for a long embrace. Lee returned the hug and felt her body shiver. She had to fight the urge to sob on her friend’s shoulder there in the doorway. Tonya pulled away and joined her inside the apartment. Lee was quick to close and bolt the door.
“I heard what happened,” Tonya gasped while watching her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lee replied softly. Physically, that was true. Emotionally, she was a wreck.
“Poor Wiley,” Tonya whispered while holding her chest. “I feel so bad for avoiding him all week. You know, with the mood he’d been in lately, he was impossible to be around.”
Lee headed for the kitchen, feeling she needed that drink more than ever. Without even asking, she poured a glass for her friend as well. Tonya followed her to the island counter separating the kitchen from the living room.
“I invited him to join us tonight before heading out,” Lee announced and choked on her tears.
Lee forced a weak smile and handed Tonya the glass of wine, which she eagerly accepted.
“You saw him--?” Tonya hesitated then gently cleared her throat. “Before he, well, you know.”
“Yeah,” Lee replied softly and took a large swallow of wine. “I was the last person to see him alive, or so the detective and the fed were eager to point out.”
Tonya stared at her with mild surprise. “They don’t seriously think you--?”
“They hinted a little,” Lee replied then drained the entire contents from the glass, which she immediately refilled.
“I think I should stay with you tonight.” Lee was about to protest when Tonya interrupted her. “I insist,” she announced boldly. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
Lee managed a smile and nodded while fighting her tears. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”
“Hey, that’s what friends are for,” Tonya announced firmly and set her glass down on the counter. “I’m going to run you a nice, hot bubble bath. After you’re finished de-stressing, we’ll have a little more wine and you can get it all out.”
Lee knew better than to argue with her friend.
†
Lee soaked in the deep garden tub filled with bubbles. She wore her long hair twisted in a bun on top of her head to keep it out of the water. She sobbed softly while recounting the evening’s events repeatedly. She suddenly felt stupid, crying alone in her tub when she could be drinking wine and pouring her soul out to her friend in the next room. She heard a faint clunk from her bedroom. Lee tensed as she listened a moment then felt stupid for thinking the boogieman was out to get her. She’d had enough of her less than relaxing bubble bath and decided drinking herself silly was the better approach to relieving her stress. Lee dried off, wrapped the towel around her body, and entered her bedroom. She could hear her friend puttering around in the next room. She changed into a tank top and a pair of floppy shorts then released her damp hair from the messy bun.
As she approached her bedroom door, she saw her purse lying over on the chair with some of its contents spilled out. She groaned softly, set the purse upright, and tossed an escaped gold tube of lipstick and her sunglasses into the bag. She headed into the living room and saw her friend casually curled against the corner of the sofa while playing on her cell phone. Tonya looked up as Lee entered the living room and waved her cell phone.
“Can you believe I’ve received over twenty texts, voicemails, and emails from our co-workers already?” Tonya remarked as her eyes widened from the revelation.
“I don’t intend to check my phone for messages,” Lee announced with a dreary sigh and reclaimed her newly filled glass of wine from the coffee table.
“Yeah, that’s why they’re all contacting me,” Tonya replied and scrolled down on her phone. She read from the list, “Tell Lee to call me. Lee’s not answering her phone. Is Lee okay?” She looked back at her friend. “Should I respond?”
“Just tell them I’m fine,” Lee announced without emotion. “Tell them I’m lying down.”
Tonya nodded and did as instructed. Lee collapsed onto the sofa on the opposite end from her friend. She groaned and held her head while resisting the urge to cry.
“Those poor kids.”
“What?” Tonya asked and glanced at her.
“Wiley’s two little boys,” Lee replied and avoided looking a
t her friend. “They’re too young to lose their father like that. I can’t imagine what they’re going through.”
“Don’t,” Tonya announced firmly and wiped a tear from the corner of her own eye. She attempted a tiny, nervous smile. “You’re going to make me cry.”
Lee stared silently into her wineglass while Tonya studied her mood.
“Did the police have any theories about what happened?” Tonya finally asked, breaking the nerve-racking silence.
“None that they offered to me,” Lee replied without looking up from her glass. “Well, except that I make a fine suspect.”
“They don’t suspect you,” Tonya scolded then shifted in her seat. “I mean, nothing was missing, right? Not a robbery gone bad or anything like that.”
“Nothing was missing that I could tell.” Lee remained in her own thoughts then looked at her friend. “Something the fed told me has me a little bothered though.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“He said he was meeting Wiley tonight at ‘The Roadside’,” she announced. “That’s really weird, because I had just invited Wiley to join us maybe fifteen minutes before he was killed.”
“Are you saying you invited him to join us, and he calls this fed guy to meet us for dinner?” Tonya suddenly asked then cocked her head to one side in silent question. “I don’t get it.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” Lee announced and sank into thought. “I think there’s more to the story.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know,” she replied gently and again stared into her glass. “But Wiley mentioned something about not being able to find a large amount of money.”
“How large?”
“Fifty million large.”
Tonya nearly choked on her wine and immediately set her glass down on the coffee table. “That’s a pretty good motive, don’t you think?”
“Yes, it is.” Lee tapped her fingernails against her wineglass while deep in thought. She finally looked at her friend. “What if Wiley found the money and called this federal agent.”
Witness Protection 2: The Return of Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Page 3
