by Rayna Morgan
The manager called over his shoulder as he walked down the hall. “How about a Do Not Disturb sign?”
Tom turned to Pat and shook his head. “Work it out as best you can.” He went inside to interview Maddy and Eric.
Chapter Six
Tom walked past the techs to the table. He turned a chair around and straddled it, resting his arms on the back. As soon as Pat joined them and opened her notebook, he nodded at Eric.
“Let’s start with you. Tell me everything you did before calling the police,"—he paused, looking in Maddy’s direction— “or had her call the police for you. You can begin by telling me why you’re in town.”
“I’m here with my firm for a brainstorming session.” Eric sat back and crossed his legs. “You know, where you put together plans for the next quarter. Lay out strategies. Figure out what you did wrong the previous period, you get the idea.” He spoke rapidly and ran his sentences together without catching a breath, the speech pattern of people from a fast-paced big city rather than a laid-back small town.
“Your firm?”
Eric straightened to an erect posture. “OPM Capital Management.”
Tom showed no sign of recognition. “What does OPM do?”
“It’s an investment management firm. We manage and invest other people’s money.”
Tom’s eyes narrowed into slits. “You mean people who have so much money they can’t manage it themselves.”
“We pool our clients’ funds to provide more diversification and investing options than they’d have by themselves,” Eric expounded.
“You’re a walking marketing brochure.” The scorn in Tom’s tone was obvious.
“Sorry,” Eric said, flustered. “It’s easy for me to get off on a tangent about my work.”
“Yeah, well, let’s get back to the work at hand,” Tom suggested. “How many people attended this conference of yours?”
“It’s a small group.” His chest puffed up. “Partners only.”
Maddy and Pat glanced at Tom. The detective’s face was inscrutable. “What is it that you fellows brainstorm?”
“Investment strategies for our clients. We figure out which stocks are up-and-comers and which stocks we should dump.”
“Sounds fascinating.” Eric missed the sarcasm in Tom’s voice, but Pat tuned into it. It typically meant a witness was headed down a slippery slope with the detective. “Was this woman—”Tom pointed a finger at Pat.
She flipped to a page in her notebook. “Vicky Brown. No identification on the body. I haven’t searched her purse yet, boss, but according to Mr. Larson, that’s the name she gave him.”
Tom turned back to Eric. “Was Ms. Brown at the conference with you?”
“Of course not.” Tom wasn’t the only one to notice how quickly Eric dismissed the idea of a woman being present at a partners’ meeting. Maddy and Pat bristled hearing the condescending tone. “Our meeting ended around 4:30. I went to the bar with one of the guys for a drink.” Tom heard Maddy suck in her breath. “I was waiting for Maddy to meet me at five.”
Maddy exhaled forcibly. “I—”
Tom cut her off without turning his head. “You’ll get your chance.” Everyone sensed the sudden chill except Eric. The detective stood up and flipped his chair around with one quick twist of his hand. He sat down, folded his arms across his chest, and glared at the man. “Go on. I’m listening.”
“Maddy arrived on time, as always.” Everyone noted the familiarity inherent in Eric’s comment. “Wes finished his drink and left.”
“Wes?” Pat asked, clicking her pen.
“Wes Reed, the guy I was having a drink with.” He added a smug aside. “He’s not a partner, in case you need that for your notes.” He looked at Maddy. A smile played on his lips. “We started catching up, talking about old times.”
Maddy shook her head and he paused. His eyes darted between Maddy and Tom before his smile turned to a smirk. “I guess you don’t want to hear about that.”
“Get on with it,” Tom ordered. “How did the other woman get in the picture?”
“Maddy got upset over something I said and walked out. If you’ve known her long, I’m sure that’s happened to you.”
Pat watched Maddy’s face turn pasty white. She leaned to one of the techs and whispered. “Don’t put your stuff away. There could be a second murder.”
“I didn’t let Maddy’s tantrum upset me,” Eric continued nonchalantly. He cupped his hands behind his head. “I ordered something to eat while I answered my emails.”
Tom repeated the question. “When did you and the victim hook up?”
Eric appeared more at ease than when the questioning began. He took his time answering. “The woman came on to me.” He looked for Maddy’s reaction. “Not that I wouldn’t have given it a shot if I’d seen her first. She is, or was, an attractive woman.”
Maddy shivered. Pat closed the balcony door shutting out the cool night air.
“How did she come onto you?” Tom asked.
“She approached my table and said something like ‘You’re sitting alone. Mind if I join you or are you waiting for someone?’ I told her the person I was meeting had already come and gone.” He glanced sideways at Maddy like a pouting child as if the whole turn of events had been her fault.
Tom leaned over the table to get Eric’s attention. “You normally invite complete strangers to join you?”
“We’d met briefly,” Eric noted petulantly.
“Always quick with an explanation,” Maddy interjected with disgust.
“Let me finish!” Spittle flew out his mouth.
Tom noted the tension mounting between the two. “Get on with it, Mr. Larson,” he instructed.
“I met her at the elevator this morning.”
“The elevator in the lobby?” Tom asked.
“No, the elevator on the sixth floor. We had a nice conversation on the way down.”
“All right. Let’s get back to your meeting later on the patio.”
“We had a drink. I’d ordered a seafood appetizer. When it arrived, I invited her to share it with me.”
“What did you talk about? Did she give any personal information?”
Eric pinched his lower lip between his fingers. “Not that I recall. She asked about my job, if I lived around here, stuff like that.”
“What happened next?”
“A sudden drop in temperature. It got cold on the patio. We moved inside for a drink at the bar.” A smile oiled its way across his face. “She was quite charming. I invited her to my room for a nightcap.”
“You spent the rest of the time in your room?”
“No, unfortunately. I got a call not long after we got to the room. Someone wanted to meet me in the bar.”
“Your co-worker from earlier?”
“The voice was muffled. I assumed it was the man I met with in the morning.” He pointed at Maddy. “The guy I was talking to when I spotted you, remember?”
Maddy shrugged. “Vaguely.”
Eric continued. “I went to the bar and waited. He was a no-show. I left the bar a little after nine.” He snapped his fingers. “Ask the barman. He’ll remember me. I’d had enough to drink, so I ate peanuts while I waited for the guy, but I left a big tip.”
“Did you try to contact the man?”
“I dialed the number from my incoming call list. I didn’t get an answer.”
“Did you go straight to the room?”
“I called the room first to see if Vicky wanted anything. I got on the elevator at ten minutes after nine.”
“How can you be so sure of the time?”
“I told her I wouldn’t be more than twenty minutes. The alarm on my wristwatch had just gone off.”
“How did she sound when you called?”
“She didn’t answer. I assumed she was in the shower. When I got to the room, I found her like that.” He choked and pointed at the body.
Tom didn’t want to embarrass Maddy, but he needed exact
details. “How do you account for the time from when you brought her to your room until you left to meet the anonymous caller?”
Eric considered his answer before responding. “We did a little coke,” he admitted.
“You’re kidding!” Maddy exclaimed.
Eric shrugged. “I don’t normally touch the stuff. It was her idea. I went along for the ride.”
“We found no signs of it, boss,” Pat noted.
“We took care of it before I went downstairs. She came out of the bathroom from flushing the stuff carrying a robe. That’s why I thought she was in the shower when I called the room.”
“Let’s move on. What did you do when you found her? Did you touch the body or move anything?”
“I don’t think—”
“I’m ready to take the body, Lieutenant,” the coroner broke in.
Tom balked at the interruption. He didn’t want the witness to have time to compose his thoughts. “Yeah, okay, get it out of here,” he barked. He waved his hand dismissively. “Call me as soon as the autopsy’s done.”
He turned back to Eric and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “What did you do next? Call the front desk?”
There was no response. Eric looked at Maddy and squirmed. Maddy’s hand moved to her face. She started to bite her cuticle. Tom’s eyes traveled back and forth between the two. “Answer my question, Mr. Larson.”
“I panicked and called Maddy.”
“What did you expect her to do?” Tom demanded.
“I—I don’t know,” Eric stammered. “I didn’t know who else to call.”
“How about the police? Didn’t it occur to you to call the police?” Tom scrutinized the man’s face. “The natural response would have been to call the emergency number.”
“I was afraid—”
“Because of what you’d done?” Tom pressed.
“Because of what you’d think I’d done.” Eric broke down sobbing.
Tom leaned back. “All right, let’s take a break. Pat, bring some water. It’s Maddy’s turn.”
* * *
Everyone stood and walked around the room to stretch muscles strained by tension.
Eric pulled out his phone to check his messages. “Not until we’re finished, Mr. Larson,” Pat warned. She handed him a bottle of water.
Tom glanced in Maddy’s direction but refused to make eye contact. At least with her, Tom thought, I’ll know if I’m being lied to.
One reason she had become an important part of his life was her honesty. She didn’t engage in mental games like so many women. She spoke her mind and let him know when she disagreed. With her, he set aside his skepticism. She would never lie to him, which would make her a good indicator to determine Eric’s veracity.
Pat approached, shaking her head.
“Something wrong, Pat?”
“I went through the victim’s purse. The name on the driver’s license is Kim Hunter, not Vicky Brown. We won’t know her true identity until we run fingerprints.”
He summoned the others. “All right, folks. Take your seats and let’s get back to it.” He turned his chair to face Maddy. Their knees bumped awkwardly. He watched Maddy blush. “Where were you when you got Mr. Larson’s call? Can you give me the exact time?”
She looked at Tom without flinching. “I was at home, alone.” She reached for her phone.
“No calls,” Pat warned a second time.
“Just showing the detective my incoming calls so he can log the time.”
“What were his exact words to you?” Tom asked.
She tossed her hair. “Sorry I didn’t record the conversation as well as recording the time. I didn’t think our little chat would end up being part of a murder investigation.”
“No need for sarcasm,” Tom admonished her. Maddy’s chin jutted out. He eased off, knowing better than to anger her. “Please repeat the exchange to the best of your recall.”
Maddy related Eric’s shocking revelation and her reaction.
“What made you help him instead of insisting he call the police?” Tom asked.
Maddy dropped her eyes. “It’s complicated.”
“Give it your best shot,” Tom ordered.
She crossed her arms in front of her. “He’s not the only one involved.”
“What do you mean?” Tom perked up. “Who else is involved?”
She hesitated. “No one else is involved. But there are people who would worry, or be hurt, if they find out.” She turned a water bottle in her hand. Her next words came after some deliberation. “His kids, my step-children.”
Tom looked up in surprise. “I thought you were no longer in touch with them.”
It was Eric’s turn to show surprise. “What do you know about my kids?” he demanded.
“Don't get worked up,” Tom shrugged. “Maddy’s mentioned them in passing, that’s all.”
“Let’s say I had my reasons for helping him,” Maddy said. “What’s important is that when I got here, Eric told me the same story he told you. Word for word, Tom, I swear!”
“You sound like you don't expect me to believe you. Is there some reason I shouldn’t?”
She ignored his question. Anger flashed in her eyes as her head swiveled toward Eric. “Except the bit about the coke. He didn’t tell me that.”
“You looked surprised when you heard,” Tom recalled.
“I was. He never did drugs when we were married.” She kept her eyes glued on her ex-husband. “He knows I don’t tolerate that scene.”
“To your knowledge,” Tom clarified, “he wasn’t doing drugs then.”
Her angry eyes turned on the detective.
He pressed on. “Has this witness lied to you before?”
“On many occasions,” she said. Her voice reflected the pain blazing in her eyes.
“What would keep him from lying now?” Tom asked.
Maddy took a breath and lowered her voice. “Fear and his sense of self-survival. Eric knows all too well what kind of help he could expect if he lied about this.”
* * *
The interview was interrupted by a knock on the door. After talking to the officer who entered, Pat leaned over and whispered something in Tom’s ear. He stood up and walked around the room. He stretched his arms, over his head and then across his chest.
“I appreciate hearing your version of what took place here tonight,” he began. He stopped in front of Eric and braced his foot on the rung of the man’s chair. “Now, let me give you my version of what happened.”
His voice had the tone of someone tired of being messed with. “We’re already checking your story. I’ve just been informed that you used the phone in the lobby to call your room. The reception clerk saw you.”
“That backs up what I told you,” Eric pointed out.
“Unfortunately, your time-line is off. You shouldn’t have made a point of the timing. It doesn’t jibe with when the clerk heard you make that call.”
“How would she know?”
“It happened right after she punched in from her break.” Tom’s lips thinned into a slight smile. “My guess is that you argued with this young woman after you brought her to your room. Drugs and drinks can be a nasty combination. How many drinks did you have by that time? At least four or five by my count.” He held up five fingers. “You grabbed the first thing you put your hands on, the tie from her bathrobe, and wrapped it around her neck. Maybe you were only trying to shut her up, but you went too far. By the time you stopped, her body was limp.”
Eric tried to stand but Tom pushed him back down. "Take it easy, Mr. Larson. Let me finish. When you realized what you’d done, you concocted that cover story about receiving a phone call and appeared at the bar so the bartender would back up your story. You even thought to leave a big tip, so he’d remember you. Having established your presence downstairs at the time of the murder, you came back and called Maddy.”
Maddy was confused. “Why would he call me if he were guilty?”
“To have someone corroborate his story when he repeated it later to the police.” Tom turned his back on Eric and stood over her chair. “You fell for it, Maddy, and did exactly what he wanted you to do. You told me his version to you was the same as the one he gave us. How did she put it, Pat?”
Pat flipped back a few pages. “Let’s see. Here it is. ‘Eric told me the same story he told you. Word-for-word, Tom, I swear.’ That what you looking for, boss?”
“That’s it.”
Eric stood up and squared off with Tom. “What’s wrong with that?” he demanded.
“Because a witness invariably changes their story in some detail every time they relate it. They remember a detail or omit something they said the first time around. Unless—”
“Unless it’s rehearsed!” Pat finished.
“Read him his rights and cuff him, Officer Fisher,” Tom ordered, “We’ll continue this conversation at the police station.”
Maddy jumped out of her chair and smacked her hand against Tom’s shoulder. Pat’s jaw dropped.
“You’re arresting him?” she shouted. “I can’t believe you’re doing this!”
“I can’t believe you did that,” he shouted back. He removed her hand from his shoulder. “And I don’t believe your ex. Now, unless you want to face charges of assaulting a police officer, I suggest you pick up your bag and go home. I’ll expect you at the station in the morning to sign a statement.”
He turned to leave. “We’re done here, Pat. Before you escort Mr. Larson to the squad car, tell the other officer to post the door.”
The rookie hesitated. “You want him to use standard issue tape?”
Tom conceded as he walked to the door. “Get a Closed for Repairs sign from the manager. I’m in no mood to deal with any more hot-heads tonight.”
He stomped out leaving Eric and Maddy speechless.
Chapter Seven
Near the end of the concert, Lea received a message from Maddy. A gust of blowing wind sent a shiver up her back. She pulled a tunic out of her bag. Paul laughed at the extra clothes she brought, but she was glad for something to ward off the sudden chill.
After the band’s final number, people made their way out the courtyard. The caterer packed up his truck. Volunteers stripped cloths from the tables and stacked chairs on flatbed carts. Paul and Lea exchanged parting words with their neighbors as the twinkling lights dimmed.
