“Sounds like a good title for a book—The Man Who Bled Green. Catchy, huh?” It also sounded like Hayden might have a very good motive for murder.
“Yeah. Catchy.” Hayden said, then swallowed more wine.
“Tell me something. If Jim called you a fraud, that must have irritated you to no end. Nobody likes that.”
“Like I said, it was all about the money with him.”
“At the expense of others?”
“Anybody and everybody.”
“You included.”
Hayden sighed and made an attempt to fix Rick with a stare. Whatever words he wanted to get out might be hopelessly lost in an alcohol-induced stupor. Rick hoped he hadn’t given the man too much. He still had questions to ask. Especially the big one.
He leaned forward, shook Hayden’s knee to be sure he was paying attention, then went for it. “So tell me, Hayden. Was Jim blackmailing you? How long had you been planning to kill him?”
Chapter 47
RICK
Hayden peered at him in a way that gave Rick an odd sensation. Could it be the man actually understood the question and was willing—no, eager—to answer? It might have been the crooked smile—once again slightly sly and knowing. Or the way he deliberately set his wineglass on the coffee table and leaned back looking almost sober.
“I began planning to kill Jim after I learned what an evil man he was.”
“Sounds like he hurt a number of people, including his ex-girlfriend and his former business partner,” Rick said.
“He was a first-class jerk. I’ve been digging into his past for a long time.” Hayden smirked. “I uncovered every little dirty secret of Jim’s. The more I learned, the more I wondered—how would he react if he was dying?”
At breakfast, Monica had called Hayden their own Mr. Spock. He spoke with no emotion. His completely dispassionate expectation of perfection sent a chill down Rick’s spine. Did he demand perfection from people, too? “Sounds very…logical. Are you a logical kind of guy, Hayden? Something’s either right or wrong and there’s no gray in between—is that you?”
Hayden’s brief moment of clarity faded and he slumped back into the couch. “I like things done correctly. Precision is important. When something’s broken, it must be repaired or removed.”
“And did you remove Jim Gordon?”
“No.” The answer came quickly and as casually as had his confession. “I never executed that part of my plan.”
“Your plan? The one to murder Jim?”
Hayden massaged the back of his neck. His eyelids fluttered closed, then sprang open. “Someone beat me to it. The irony is, I never saw him die. All the planning, all the effort—all wasted.”
“Wasted effort. Terrible thing for a perfectionist, right? What planning did you do?”
“So glad you asked. Don’t tell anyone, but the map, that’s my doing.”
“You?” Rick gaped at him. Okay, he had not seen that coming. “It looks so…real.”
Hayden sniggered and pinched his upper lip as his gaze wandered around the room. “I had the original designed by an art-history student I met at the UCLA Library. A hundred bucks. That’s what it cost to create a freakin’ work of art showing the location of the San Manuel.” He chuckled again. “A measly hundred bucks.”
“No way.” Rick glanced around. They were still alone. He leaned forward and arched an eyebrow. “How’d you get it to look so old?”
“I began by staining the paper with tea, let it dry in the sun for couple of days, then buried it in the backyard for a week.” Hayden chuckled and slapped his knee. “Nobody’s figured out what I did.”
Well, not exactly. Heath had. He’d confessed to sending the invitations. So how much had he known? “Pretty smart,” Rick said. “Getting Jim to send it out—I’ll bet that was tricky.”
Hayden laughed again. “Jim didn’t do that, man. Heath did. When I sold it to him for twice what I paid, he thought it was real. When I told him the thing was a fake, the guy got almost giddy. He was one of the victims of Jim’s treachery, so he was more than happy to pay.”
“What kind of treachery?”
“Heath has been beat out by Jim on various treasure hunts. Jim even stole his research once.”
Rick nodded, the pattern of Jim Gordon’s behavior emerging. “How did you make sure Heath didn’t double-cross you?”
“He’s not built that way. Did you know he was involved with Operation Rolling Thunder in Vietnam? That’s what soured him on the whole establishment thing. He spent the remainder of his Navy career pushing paper and waiting for retirement. Guy who puts in that kind of time won’t go back on his word. I thought about using his career as a plot for a novel, but the story never worked.”
“You do a lot of plotting and planning, don’t you?”
“I’m good at it.”
“I can see that. You’re the idea man.”
“That’s right,” Hayden boasted. “I’m the man with the plan.”
“But, Heath is the kind of man you admire, isn’t he? Always keeps his word and he gets things done.”
Hayden shrugged. “He does that, but admire?” He harrumphed. “Guy was useful cause he said he had a way to get rid of Jim. I told him I’d sell it to him, but I had to be there.”
“I’ll bet he paid for your room for the weekend. He did, didn’t he?”
“Well, the map was worth more than two hundred to him. You gotta admit it’s almost perfect. Work of art.”
“Speaking of art, the tea you used to stain it, was it Darjeeling?”
Hayden’s smug smile fell away. “How’d you know?”
“Our local stamp collector was sure it was a fake based on the paper. But it was my cook who nailed it. She recognized the floral aroma of the tea.” Rick smiled at Hayden, who said nothing. “I was going to ask you why you used such a distinct tea, but that won’t be necessary. You did it because you consider it close to a perfect tea and, if nothing else, you are a perfectionist.”
Hayden scowled at Rick and remained silent.
“Tell you what, Hayden, I have to talk to Brad again. Why don’t I help you up to your room so you can take a little nap? You’re looking kind of under the weather.”
Five minutes later, Rick was knocking on Brad’s door. When there was no answer, he used his key and peeked inside. It appeared to be vacant. He entered the room, checked the closet and the dresser. Everything was gone. It was the same with the bathroom. He called Deputy Cunningham on his way down the stairs.
“Adam, I think Brad Luhan is trying to leave town. He’s somehow tied into this.” Rick pulled the registration card and relayed the particulars on the vehicle. He was still talking to Adam when he looked out the front window. Down the street, Brad was standing at the back of his blue Chevy. “He’s still here. Make it quick.”
“On my way.”
The line went dead and Rick ran out the door, down the steps, and across the front yard to where Brad was parked. He arrived at the car just as Brad slammed the trunk.
“I thought Deputy Cunningham instructed everyone to stay in town, Brad.”
“Something urgent came up.”
Brad rushed to the driver’s door, but the wah-wah of a police siren was already growing louder.
Rick raised his voice. “You’ve got to realize how bad this looks. Don’t even think you’ll escape.”
Brad stood frozen in place as Adam’s 4x4 pulled alongside. He cursed and hung his head. Slowly, he pulled the key from his pocket and returned to the rear of the car. He opened the trunk, pulled out his bag, and set it on the sidewalk.
He held up his room key. “Technically, I haven’t checked out yet.”
Rick glanced at Deputy Cunningham, who now stood outside his vehicle with his feet shoulder-width apart. He didn’t look impressed.
“Mr. Luhan, do I need to take you in so you don’t leave town?”
“I’m still here, Deputy. Didn’t go anywhere and, like I said, I’ve still got my key.
”
“That’s good,” Rick said. “Because you forgot to mention a few things when we talked. And don’t lie to me again. I’ve had enough for one day.”
Brad stared at the sidewalk for a minute, then smiled. “I didn’t lie to you, man.”
With his frizzy hair, gold chain necklace, and nose ring, he reminded Rick of a hundred other snitches he’d seen over the years. He knew exactly how to handle him—instill fear. “It’s called a lie of omission, right Deputy? And people go to jail for it.”
Adam nodded and crossed his arms. Rick continued to stare down Brad, who gulped and finally muttered a weak okay.
“Good. And remember, as your buddy Heath so cleverly puts it, the truth will come out sooner or later. When that happens, you don’t want to be on the wrong end. So tell us, other than Hayden, who else did you tell about the monopod? And how did you find out its exact location?”
Chapter 48
RICK
Rick and Deputy Cunningham waited for a response from Brad, but when he remained unresponsive Rick’s impatience boiled over. “I guess Brad doesn’t want to discuss this any further. Maybe you should arrest him for obstruction.”
The deputy rubbed his chin and did a visual assessment of Brad before answering Rick’s question. “I hate paperwork. Unfortunately, some people don’t realize the error of their ways until it’s too late. Then they’ve got an arrest record.”
“We can work this out. You don’t have to bust me.”
Rick pursed his lips as he peered at Brad. “Oh my gosh, Brad. Do you already have a record?”
“No, I don’t, man. Honest.”
“Guess there’s only one way to be sure.” Deputy Cunningham pulled out a pair of handcuffs and held them in plain view.
“Wait. Let’s not get carried away, guys.” Brad swallowed hard and his color faded. “I only told Mark how I saw the monopod down at the shore after Cadman was taking his stupid pictures.”
“Where?” Rick demanded. “Exactly where did you see it?”
“By the sidewalk, man.”
“The sidewalk? Not in the rocks.”
“No, it was right there in plain view. I figured Cadman might be coming back for it.”
“What else did you and Mr. Joshua talk about?” Deputy Cunningham asked.
“Not much that time, but after Jim got killed, we started kicking the idea around again. Mark kept going on about Cadman’s mood swings, and so I got to thinking…what if Cadman was the murderer?”
“Why would you think that, Mr. Luhan?” Deputy Cunningham asked. His words hung in the air, the threat obvious—answer, or else.
“Because Cadman…he’s a drug user, man. Mark told me the guy’s hooked on oxy. Cadman could have killed Jim and wouldn’t even remember it.” Brad looked straight at Rick. “You saw it, right? At breakfast. That whole selective-memory-loss joke. It’s for real, man. And it’s because of the drugs.”
Rick held up his index finger and narrowed his gaze at Brad. “How did Mark find out about Cadman’s addiction?”
A cunning smile etched itself on Brad’s face. “Hey, man, this is like my get-out-of-jail-free card, right?”
“This is your obstruction of justice charge if you don’t talk.” Deputy Cunningham moved closer to Brad, forcing him to take a step backwards.
“No worries, man. No worries. Mark is Cadman’s dealer. I’ve never actually seen money, like, change hands, but there were signs.”
“What signs?” Rick asked.
“On our first day here, Cadman had this wad of cash in his pocket. He was all fidgety and pacing around the lobby. It was like he was being secretive, you know?”
“I remember that,” Rick said. He glanced at Deputy Cunningham. “I assumed he was the nervous sort. And he did keep pulling something out of his pocket. I never paid attention to what it was though. You talked to him at one point. What did you two say?”
“I asked him what was wrong, and he said it was none of my business. So, then I’m like, are you waiting for someone? And he’s like, I’ve got a meeting with Mark. It seemed bogus, so I hung around and followed him when Mark checked in. They went into Mark’s room and Cadman came out a few minutes later with a little paper bag. That’s when I, like, made the connection. Mark’s told me in the past he can get me prescription anything.”
“He’s telling the truth about following them,” Rick said. “I saw him scuttling around.”
“Scuttling, man? That’s harsh.”
Rick glared at Brad, who fingered his gold chain and quickly nodded his agreement.
“It’s cool. No sweat, man. Scuttling it is.”
Rick rolled his eyes and sighed. “We can ask Cadman. See if he remembers anything.” By rights, they had plenty to corner and question Mark Joshua. But there had been so many lies told this weekend that Rick wanted some insurance. If he got lucky, this snitch might give it to him. “When you spoke to Mark, what exactly did he say?”
Brad stared off into space for a moment, then looked Rick in the eye. “Mark seemed all worried about someone finding Cadman’s monopod. He didn’t want the cops trying to pin that on his client. If Cadman goes away, Mark loses a payday.”
“You still haven’t answered me.” Rick glanced sideways at Adam. “Don’t make the deputy arrest you.”
“No man, I was just thinking. You know, out loud. Anyway, what me and Mark kind of speculated was that Cadman…moved it. We agreed someone ought to tell him where it was—in case he wanted to get it back. That’s all.”
“Seriously? You thought he left his monopod down there, used it to commit murder, then stashed it ten feet from the body and forgot it was there? Are you kidding me?”
Brad licked his lips and fidgeted with the collar of his jacket. “Well, when you put it that way…but it makes sense if he’s guilty. And neither of us wanted the murder pinned on him.”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Brad. Why would you protect a man you don’t even like?”
“Because...because the guy’s had enough of a bad run,” Brad stammered.
Rick felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Adam, quietly urging him to settle down. “You’re right. Sorry.” But deep down inside, Rick suspected the truth was finally coming out, and he wasn’t about to let up the pressure on their reluctant snitch. “So what did you do? Run back to Cadman and squeal? You told him how the monopod was laying down in those rocks, didn’t you?”
“Don’t sound so cold, man.”
“Answer the question,” Deputy Cunningham snapped.
“I might’ve said something to him.”
Rick heard Deputy Cunningham grunt in satisfaction. They exchanged a nod, and Rick said, “We may have our guy.”
“What’s that mean, man? You’re not saying I killed Jim, are you? No way.”
“No, Brad.” Rick wanted to hold back the snarky remark, but couldn’t. “I think you’ve been played for a patsy. Give me your car keys.”
“Why?”
“So you aren’t tempted to leave town again.”
Rick waited, his hand out, until Brad glanced away. Adam stood to the side and indicated Brad should give up the keys with a silent nod.
“Fine. But don’t drive it. Okay?”
Rick snickered as he pocketed the keys. “No worries, man.”
Deputy Cunningham looked over his shoulder at his 4x4, then back to Luhan. “One last question. Where will we find Mark Joshua? Don’t tell me he’s decided to leave, too.”
“Oh, Mark’s not leaving. Not right away. He was going into town.”
“Where?” Deputy Cunningham asked.
“I got no idea. Ask Hayden. He probably knows.”
“Good grief, do you people ever stop?” Rick exploded.
“Stop what, man?”
“Lying,” Rick sneered. “Let’s go see Hayden—again.”
Deputy Cunningham raised his eyebrows and looked at Rick. “Where do you expect to find him?”
“Hopefully, he’s sound asleep.” Rick gav
e Adam a sly smile. “He drank a little too much wine this afternoon.”
“No issues I need to deal with?”
Rick shook his head. “Nothing to worry about. He was the only one at our wine tasting.”
They found Hayden sound asleep in his room, and he wasn’t at all happy about being woken up.
“What is wrong with this place? Can’t a guy get some sleep around here?”
Deputy Cunningham showed Hayden his badge, who stared at it for a few seconds before appearing to recognize what it was.
“Sorry, Officer.” His eyelids fluttered closed momentarily, then his eyes opened wide.
“Mr. Kalstone, I need you to answer a few questions. After that, you can go back to your nap and nobody will disturb you again. Okay?”
“Sure.” The words came out slurred and were accompanied by a rolling of Hayden’s eyes up to the ceiling.
Rick shook the man’s shoulder. “Not yet, Hayden. Where’s Mark Joshua?”
It took a moment for Hayden to process the question. When he seemed to understand, his brow furrowed. “Why are you asking me?”
“Because you two are best buds.”
“Me and Mark? You kidding me? No way. It’s straight-up business. Ask Cadman, he was looking for him, too.”
“When was this?” Rick asked.
“A little while ago.”
Rick gritted his teeth at how closely this investigation resembled being on a merry-go-round. They asked the obligatory question—where was Cadman. Of course, Hayden didn’t know.
“Let’s check his room,” Rick said.
They knocked on the door to Cadman’s room and received a response almost immediately.
“Give me a minute.”
“Good. He’s here,” Rick said.
When the door opened, Cadman’s face fell. “Oh, it’s you. I thought—never mind.”
“Who were you expecting? Mark?” Rick asked.
A Treasure to Die For (A Seaside Cove Bed & Breakfast Mystery Book 1) Page 17
