by Gerri Hill
When the silver Mercedes turned into an apartment complex, Finn drove past the entrance, keeping an eye on Lori Peterson’s car. She took the block around, watching as the Mercedes parked next to an older model truck with a dented front fender.
“Note the time,” she said to Rylee as she circled back around.
Lori Peterson looked completely out of place in this rather rundown complex. Her blond hair flowed past her shoulders and designer sunglasses shielded her eyes. Even from here, Finn could see the sparkling of diamonds on her well-manicured hands. Pressed slacks, a fashionable sweater…dark, leather boots with a three-inch heel. Whatever in the world was she doing at a dump like this?
“I hope he’s good in bed,” Rylee murmured.
Finn smiled. “How so?”
“Because if he lives here, he doesn’t have much else going for him.”
Finn pulled into an empty parking spot and reached for her camera. Lori Peterson disappeared inside Apartment 19 just as Finn snapped off two shots. She’d only barely gotten a glimpse of someone inside. She hoped the camera saw more than she did.
“So now we find out who lives here?” Rylee asked.
“When we get back to the office, yeah. Now, we sit and wait.”
“Okay, so I’m not saying that she doesn’t look the type to be having an affair…but I will say, she doesn’t look like the type to have an affair here.”
Finn nodded. “I tend to agree. But maybe she’s a spoiled rich girl married to a spoiled rich guy. Maybe whoever she’s seeing is the complete opposite. Maybe he’s a badass. The kind of guy she secretly wished she could have been with in high school. The dangerous, rowdy guy who could have kicked Brett’s ass if he wanted to.”
“Do you do that often?”
“What?”
“Try to reason it out.”
“Sometimes. Like Connie Frazier. She was a little frumpy, a little plump. Plain Jane, really. And Michael Drake…handsome, dashing. Ten years younger than she was. Made no sense.” She shrugged. “But…not my business. I follow, I take pictures, I give a report.”
Rylee leaned back in the seat. “Tell me about your father. You said he bought the office building when you were in college.”
“Not much to tell, really. The PI showed up a few days after I’d turned thirty. He had a large envelope. My name was on the front—my father’s handwriting.”
“Why did he wait so long to give it to you? I mean, you were in college when your father died, right?”
“My father’s instructions were to give it to me after I turned thirty. I guess he wanted to make sure I had my life in order.”
“So you were a cop,” Rylee prompted.
“Yes. And I quit the next day.”
“So what was in the envelope?”
“There was a note from him. Very businesslike. Some cash, a key to the office building. A key to the house where I’m living now. And a key to a safe deposit box.”
“That’s kinda neat.”
“There was another key. In the safe deposit box.” She turned to Rylee. “That’s the key that haunts me.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know what it’s for.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Dee still wasn’t used to the reception area being occupied and she stopped up short when Rylee smiled at her.
“Hi, Dee.” Then her smile faltered. “Or should I call you Detective Woodard?”
“Dee’s fine,” she said. There were papers spread out across the desk. “Busy day?”
Rylee nodded. “Fun day. Now I’m doing research.”
Dee nodded. “Finn in her office?”
“She is.”
Dee headed in that direction, then stopped. “How’s the cat?”
“Smokey? Oh, she’s adorable.” Rylee’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God…you’re not here to get her, are you?”
“No, no. I’m pretty sure everyone’s forgotten about the cat by now.”
“Good. Because she’s kinda got the run of the office.”
“Oh? I thought Finn kept her upstairs.”
“Only at night. In fact, the last I checked, she was in Finn’s lap.”
Dee laughed. “This I gotta see.”
The door to Finn’s office was wide open and Dee stood there, smiling as Finn swatted away the cat’s tail from her laptop.
“Got a helper there, huh?”
Finn looked up. “Hey. Yeah, she’s being a pest.” Finn picked her up and deposited her on the floor, only to have the cat jump back up onto her desk again. With a sigh, Finn stood and picked her up once more, tossing her out into the hallway and closing the door. “Should have done that an hour ago.”
“Rylee panicked when I asked about the cat. She thought I was here to take her away.”
“Yeah, I think you’d have a custody battle if that was the case.” She sat down again. “What brings you around?”
Dee sat down across from Finn and crossed her legs, wondering why she continued to come by here and discuss the case with her. There was nothing in Finn’s background—however interesting that background was—that indicated she was involved in any way.
“The Fraziers…and your parents,” she said, wondering if she should even go there. “So many similarities, it’s…well, it’s—”
“What? Bizarre? Odd? Ironic? What?”
“It must have brought back unpleasant memories.”
Finn waved her hand dismissively. “That was nearly twenty years ago. And I’ve done my share of surveillance on cheating spouses. The only odd thing in this case is that Daniel Frazier ended up dead and we assume the killer was his wife’s lover. The facts may be similar to my parents’ situation, but the circumstances are completely different. My mother’s lover killed because he was in love.”
She nodded. “I’m assuming you don’t have a relationship with your mother?”
Finn raised her eyebrows.
“You said at Thanksgiving—I think it was—that you had no family, yet your mother still lives here in Corpus.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t find anything in my background check that links me to the Fraziers. Is there another reason you’re curious about my past?”
She leaned forward. “Why so secretive?”
“Just because I like to keep my private life private doesn’t necessarily mean I’m being secretive, Dee.”
“Not secretive, I guess. Guarded,” she clarified. “And I suppose that goes for me too.” She leaned back in her chair, relaxing again. “I’ve been in Corpus for nine years. Nine years, Finn. And I’ve never told a soul about Angela or anything about my past. Except for you.” She crossed her arms, wondering at the turn their conversation had taken. “They know I’m gay, of course, but not because I came out to them. Someone tried to set me up on a date the first summer I was here.”
“Date with a guy?”
“Yes. But other than them knowing I’m gay, they know little else.” She shrugged. “I’m not close with anyone here.” She met Finn’s gaze. “I’ve known you for such a short period of time—less than two months—and yet you know more about me than anyone else here. How sad is that?”
“So does that mean you’re guarded too or that there’s not anyone to share the details of your life with?”
Dee smiled. “Both, actually.”
Finn nodded. “Yes. Me too.” Then she sighed. “Sad. Yes, we’re both pretty sad.”
Dee laughed lightly. “We’re both pretty pathetic.”
“I’ll say.”
“So…Rylee’s really cute,” she said, the smile still on her face.
“She’s too young for you,” Finn said sharply.
Dee raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Finn cleared her throat. “I mean…well, she’s young. Innocent.”
“Cute, though. Thirty? I suppose that is a little young for me, considering I feel like I’m in my fifties most days.” She wiggled her eyebrows teasingly. “Not too young for you.”
Sh
e was surprised by the quick blush that lit Finn’s face. A blush and…something else. Relief? Was Finn relieved that she didn’t have designs on the very lovely—yet young—Rylee?
“Any news on the case?” Finn asked, abruptly changing the subject.
Dee let out a breath. “Oh, yes…the case. I was allowed to accompany the new team—which includes Joel and not me—when they showed up with the warrant.”
“The restaurant by the JFK? Jamboree Number One?”
“Yes, although they’ll hit all four of them.”
“Anything odd?”
“Not at first glance. The manager was very helpful. Of course, they’re going over all the books now in fine detail, which I’m not a part of.”
“Mabanks pushed you out?”
“Yes, surprisingly, because he’s always been very fair to me. In so many words, he said I was old-school and he felt like this particular case needed young blood.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I think that everyone feels like we’ll solve this case using computers and banking records and the like.”
“Not beating the streets?”
“As you know, there aren’t any streets to beat. There’s not one shred of evidence to go on and our only suspect might as well go by the name of John Doe.”
“What about Duncan Frazier?”
“Yes, that’s an angle I’d like to pursue, but no one else thinks it’s viable.” She leaned forward again. “He was there. It was as if he was expecting us. He’s so young, yet he was very composed.”
“Twenty-one still, I think,” Finn said.
“Yes, I believe so. But he was very poised, very sure of himself. I would think someone his age, just out of college, taking over a successful family business—especially when both parents were brutally murdered—would have had some jitters when the police showed up in force. With a warrant, no less. But no. And I hate to use this word, but he was almost smug about the whole thing.”
“You still following him around?”
“That’s about all I’ve been doing in regard to this case. Nothing out of the ordinary. He goes between the restaurants and his hotel, that’s about it.”
“What about the sister?”
“Back at college, I assume.”
“Wonder what the story is there? They were in quite an argument at the burial.”
Dee raised her eyebrows. “You went to the burial?”
“Of course.” Then Finn smiled. “Hidden, but I was there.”
“So what kind of an argument?”
Finn shrugged. “Hard to say. Raised voices, lots of pointing. He took off in his truck and she went with, I assume, relatives. I followed Duncan. He went to the pizza place—Jamboree Number One—but was only there for a minute or two, then off to the hotel where he was staying.”
“Interesting.”
“So what about the house? Did they do anything with it?”
“I’m assuming not since he’s still living at the hotel. I would think they’d get it cleaned out and put it on the market. Hard to imagine he or the sister would want to live there after what happened to their mother.”
“Just taking a guess here, but judging by how little fanfare there was at the funeral, I don’t think they were extremely close to their mother. I don’t know what their relationship was to Daniel, though. It could have been one of indifference as well.”
“Maybe they were still in shock. I mean, their parents were killed, what? Two weeks apart?” She stood up quickly. “I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’m sure you’re busy.”
Finn eyed her suspiciously. “So you only came by to visit?”
“Oh, hell, I don’t know why I came by. Restless, I guess.”
Finn stood up too. “You want to get dinner tonight? Or come over and we’ll drink scotch?”
Dee sighed. “I feel like I’m at a crossroads with the job,” she admitted. “I’m used to getting the good cases. I’m used to Mabanks trusting me. I mean, hell, he forced Joel on me because he wanted him to learn from me. Now? Now Joel is hanging with the new team and I’m on the outside. When did it change that I’m no longer trusted?”
Finn lifted one corner of her mouth. “So no on dinner?”
Dee smiled too. “Rain check.” She walked over to the door and opened it, then paused. “Thanks for listening.”
“Anytime.”
She went out, then stopped again, sticking her head back inside Finn’s office. “You should ask her out.”
Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “Her who?”
Dee rolled her eyes. “She’s cute. And nice. Ask her out. Or I will.”
“What makes you think she’s gay?”
“Oh, please.”
Finn motioned her away. “Goodbye, Dee.”
Dee was smiling as she walked down the long hallway into the front part of the office. She was smiling and she was conscious of her smile. Stopping by to chat with Finn had been good for her. What a surprise it was to find that she’d made a new friend.
Rylee appeared to be deep in concentration as she stared at the laptop on her desk, but Dee noticed the lazy hand that was rubbing the cat—Smokey—that sat in her lap.
“She appears to like it here.”
Rylee looked up and smiled. “She likes it much better now that we don’t confine her to the apartment upstairs.”
“I’m sure.”
“You really don’t think someone will come for her?”
“I doubt it. She’s a young cat. They probably hadn’t even had her but a handful of months.”
“I hope that’s the case. I love her, but I think she’s done wonders for Finn.”
“What? She’s not as grumpy now?”
Rylee laughed, a laugh that brightened her eyes. “You said that, not me!”
The smile Dee had still been sporting faded as she stood beside her car. She looked up into the late afternoon sky, watching the clouds building to the north. A front was coming in that evening, bringing rain and cooler temperatures. She opened the door, pausing only a second before getting inside the car.
Dinner and scotch with Finn sounded good, but something was nagging at her. Not that she wanted to spend the evening following Duncan Frazier around, but something wasn’t right with him.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Something’s not right.”
Finn raised her eyebrows as Rylee paced in front of her desk.
“The Petersons have three young children. The youngest is only four. The oldest is eight.”
“You know this how?”
Rylee grinned. “Well, I did a search, of course.”
“So you’ve forgotten Rule Number One already.”
“No. Not at first.” Rylee sat down across from her. “The guy in the apartment is Carlos Hernandez. He rented that apartment exactly twenty-one days ago. He’s also exactly twenty-one years old.”
“And?”
“And Lori Peterson is thirty-six.”
“So you’re saying she’s too old?”
“I’m saying he’s too young. Too…wrong. She’s high society. Always has been. Like her husband’s family, hers is wealthy too. I’m talking Junior League, old money. In fact, Lori’s mother is the current president.”
Finn wasn’t sure where this was going, but Rylee appeared to be on a roll. Rylee stood up again and resumed her pacing.
“So I’m thinking, where could they have possibly met? Maybe he worked on a crew that did their yard maintenance.” Rylee shook her head. “No, that’s not it. But maybe he cleans their pool.” Again a shake of the head. “Nope. Doesn’t do pools.”
Finn struggled to keep a smile from her face as Rylee sat down once again. She was animated and…well, quite attractive.
“Guess where he works?”
“I have no idea. Please tell me.”
“His uncle owns an office cleaning business. Carlos works for him.”
“And?”
“And one of the contracts they have
is for none other than Peterson, Barnes, Wilcox and Peterson.”
“Okay. So he cleans her husband’s office. They could have met there.”
Rylee shook her head. “Not unless the wife is there at midnight. They clean that particular office building midnight to three a.m.”
Finn nodded. “Okay. So what’s your theory?”
“Well, I’m not sure I have one. But I’m pretty confident in saying that Lori Peterson and Carlos Hernandez are not having an affair.”
“She was in the apartment over an hour,” Finn reminded her.
“And I’m guessing she didn’t even sit down, much less take her clothes off. You saw the look on her face. It wasn’t ecstasy after having sex. It was relief to get the hell out of there.”
Finn did agree with that. There was no dreamy look on her face like Connie Frazier had sported. There was no afterglow. Relief. Yes, that’s how she would describe it too.
“So what’s your next plan of action then?”
Rylee’s eyes widened. “Me?”
“Yes, you. Brett Peterson asked us to follow his wife. If she’s not having an affair, what’s she doing there?”
“Can we tap her phone?”
“No, we cannot tap her phone!”
“What about a listening device?”
Finn shook her head. “You’ve watched too many movies. We stay the course.”
“What does that mean?”
“That means, tomorrow morning, we stake out their house again and follow her if she goes out. And we also dig a little deeper into Carlos Hernandez.”
“But what about Rule Number One?”
Finn smiled. “You’ve already broken it. Might as well do a thorough breakdown on Carlos.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
It was getting dark outside and she should have already headed out, but she wanted to check on Smokey. Rylee shook her head as she lifted the cover on the litter box. Even though she and Finn were supposed to take turns scooping out the litter, she’d found it was hit and miss as to whether Finn remembered or not.
“She forgot again, huh,” she said to Smokey. Smokey didn’t seem to care. She was hunched over her food bowl, crunching away.
