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by Jana DeLeon

“No. Every woman I knew had problems with her relationship. They all caught their husbands or boyfriends lying about things. Sometimes big things. Sometimes small things. But it doesn’t make a difference to me. If you’ll lie about small things, you’ll lie about the big ones as well.”

  “I agree.”

  A flash of anger crossed her face. “I can’t believe I let Otis play me. I thought I had heard every ploy in the book. And yet he still managed to convince me that he what he promised me was real when it was all a lie from the beginning. How can that happen? How could I be so stupid again?”

  “Men like Otis have a way of choosing the right people at the right time. I don’t know you, so I can’t speak to your personal situation, but I’m guessing Otis clued in on some weakness in your wall.”

  “So they take your emotional crisis and turn it into their way in. How can they do that? How can they fool people so easily?”

  “Because they aren’t just smooth talkers,” I said. “They’re sociopaths. And sociopaths are believable because they have no conscience. They can say or do anything without even a twitch.”

  “So they can lie right to your face and never think twice about it.”

  “Even worse. They often consider it a game.”

  “Well, I guess he turned out to be the big loser this time, didn’t he?”

  She seemed almost pleased as she delivered that statement.

  “Given all that I know, it’s hard for me to mourn his death,” I said. “Although I would have loved to have seen him on trial and known that he was languishing behind bars.”

  She nodded. “Death is harsh but at least it’s final.” She gave me a curious look. “So now that Otis is dead, why are you still investigating?”

  “Because my client wants the full story and I want to give it to her.”

  “Well, I don’t know what I can tell you that you don’t already know. He pursued me romantically, lied to me about investing in a business he was planning on opening on the island, but once he got the money, he became less available. I’d been trying to pin him down for days before he was killed but he always had some excuse about why we couldn’t get together. Looking back, I don’t understand why it took me so long to clue in on the fact that he was cutting me loose.”

  “Because you didn’t want that to be the case.”

  “No. I didn’t.” She rubbed her nose and sniffed. “A good friend of mine passed away earlier this year. She was my age and like me, never married. She’d been ill for some time and the worst part about it was how alone she was. Being housebound, she couldn’t get out and do things like she used to, and I saw her as much as possible but with my job and my own life to manage, I know it wasn’t enough. As time passed, her other friends faded away, and after she died, I couldn’t stop thinking about her sitting alone in that house, drawing her last breath.”

  I placed my hand on her arm. “You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. No one wants to think about being alone at the end. Otis took advantage of you. You were seriously questioning your choices about relationships and then he appeared like magic, offering you the opportunity to test the waters of the other side.”

  She sniffed again and nodded. “Well, it’s all over now and I need to just move on. Do you have any more questions? I’ve got to get back downstairs before the staff meeting.”

  “Did you ever take a look through Otis’s room?”

  “No. I…that’s against the rules. I can only enter a unit to address a complaint.”

  “I get what the rules say, but if the guy who’d promised me the moon had backed off and I had access, I definitely would have gone through his things looking for answers. I understand the security cameras were down for several days, right? That would have been the perfect time to do it.”

  She looked down.

  “Cynthia? I’m not going to tell anyone. This is only for my friend. So that she can convince her aunt that what happened wasn’t her fault. I’m afraid her health has been failing ever since she realized Otis wasn’t coming back.”

  “That’s awful.” She sighed. “Okay, when he didn’t return my calls, I went into his room. I saw him go into the breakfast buffet and knew he’d be there a while. He always read the newspaper while he ate breakfast.”

  Probably looking at the obituaries for a new identity to nab, I thought.

  “And what did you find?” I asked.

  “Nothing. I mean, nothing that meant anything.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean his room looked like any other person’s who was on vacation. He had a couple of cheap souvenirs, a few of those collector drink glasses, and pictures of fish and boats.”

  “Pictures of fish?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Otis loved fishing. He did a charter a couple times a week.”

  “I guess he had a freezer full then. The fishing’s really good here.”

  “He never brought any back. Said he liked the sport of fishing but didn’t want to deal with cleaning it and packaging it up. Said he’d rather eat his fish in the restaurant.”

  “Seems like a waste to never eat something he caught.”

  “I tried to get him to bring some back to me. I told him he didn’t have to clean them or anything. I’d even supply him with a cooler, but he still wouldn’t do it. Hell, he could have been giving them to some other woman for all I know.”

  “I suppose anything’s possible. I don’t suppose you know who he used for the charter, do you?”

  “Some guy over on the mainland. He said he didn’t like the charters on the island. Their boats were too old. He was always saying he was going to buy his own boat. I guess I know how he planned on paying for it.”

  “And there wasn’t anything else you can think of?”

  She shook her head. “Like I said. There wasn’t really much of anything. I suppose he could have had some super-secret stuff locked in the safe, but I don’t have access to that, so I have no way of knowing.”

  “What about his personal items? Did he have clothes hanging in the closet? Or were they in his suitcase?”

  “They were packed. He’d told me a few days before that he was going to have to leave for a couple days for business.”

  “Did he say what kind of business?”

  She shook her head. “Just that he had a line on a big investor and if he landed him, then he’d never have to worry about funding again.”

  I studied her face as she spoke. She wasn’t lying, exactly. I was sure that’s what Otis told her. But I didn’t believe for a moment that she bought it. Cynthia had taken one look at that packed suitcase and known exactly what the score was.

  The question was, did she do anything about it?

  I found Betty Palmer’s address with a simple search on my phone and shook my head at how limited privacy had become. I could be an ax murderer about to knock on her front door and the internet had provided me not only an address but directions, complete with recommendations of the best streets to avoid traffic.

  The apartment building was older than me and had definitely seen better days. It was a couple blocks back from the sound, but the salt air had still rusted all the light fixtures, and rusted nails were weeping onto the siding. Betty’s unit was on the second floor on the end, so I made my way upstairs and headed to her door, hoping she would be willing to talk to me.

  She answered the door quickly and holding a dishrag, so I figured I had caught her doing the dishes. She stared at me several seconds, trying to place me, but apparently couldn’t.

  “I don’t need magazines, cookies, or Jesus,” she said.

  “Everyone needs cookies,” I said. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

  I pulled out my card and handed it to her, giving her the same story I’d given Cynthia. I kept pausing as I went, thinking she might invite me in at some point, but apparently she didn’t care who saw me standing outside her door.

  “What’s this got to do with me?” she asked when I finished.

/>   “I’d like to ask you some questions about Otis.”

  She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “I work the office at night, processing receipts and stuff from the day shift and helping with check-in when needed. All I know about Otis Baker is that he’s dead.”

  “Then why did you give him ten thousand dollars?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “I saw a copy of the check.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she studied me for several seconds. “I don’t think you’ve seen anything of the sort.”

  I pulled out my phone, accessed the image of her check, and turned it around to show her. “I’m pretty sure the bank will verify that’s your account.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “You working with the cops?”

  “Heck no! I wouldn’t work with Benton if my life depended on it. That guy’s an idiot.”

  “That’s a fact. Does he have a copy of that check?”

  “Probably. I mean, Otis had them and the police searched his room, so…”

  She sighed. “Then I suppose he’ll be along here accusing me of all manner of things soon enough.”

  “He can accuse all he wants, but if you didn’t do anything, he can’t prove it. I’m not looking to prove anything except that Otis was a big fat liar.”

  She put her hands in the air. “Fine. What do you want me to say? That I was a damned fool and that man took almost all my savings?”

  “You’re not the only one,” I said. “Otis scammed a lot of women out of money. In fact, he made a career out of it.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better? That a bunch of women are just as stupid as me? Well, it doesn’t.”

  “It doesn’t make my client or her aunt feel better either. Mostly, it just makes them mad, which is why I’m still pursuing this.”

  “I don’t see the point. The man’s dead, and good riddance. Even if you knew everything there was to know about Otis, it still wouldn’t give any of us the answers we really want.”

  I knew she was right. Victims wanted to know why and sometimes there just wasn’t an explanation good enough for them to accept. It was really hard for good people to fathom the depth of depravity that criminals could stoop to without a moment’s hesitation. There was an answer, of course. People like Otis were simply wired differently. But I doubted that answer would give her any comfort. The problem with people like Otis was they didn’t look like they were wired differently, which meant they were uniquely suited to do a lot of damage.

  “Quitting my investigation now would be like closing a book or turning off a movie five minutes before it finishes just because you know how the ending is going to go,” I said. “There’s some satisfaction to be gained by following something through all the way. I think it’s good for healing because there’s nothing left to wonder about if you have all the facts.”

  “And you think me airing my dirty laundry will help your friend’s aunt? I honestly don’t see how and it sure as heck won’t help me to rehash it.”

  “I’m not trying to cause you any more grief. Maybe you could just answer a few questions and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “Ask ’em and I’ll decide.”

  “Okay. Did Otis pitch the restaurant business to you?”

  She nodded. “That’s what the money was for. He guaranteed he could double it in a year. I know I was stupid to give it to him, but if I could have doubled that money, I could have gotten out of this crap place and not worried about making rent every month. My husband had second-mortgaged the house and didn’t tell me about it. I couldn’t afford to keep it after he was gone.”

  My heart clenched and I hated Otis/Martin all over again. I also wasn’t overly thrilled with Betty’s husband for leaving her in such a financial predicament.

  “I’m really sorry,” I said. “That must have been tough, especially when you were already dealing with his death.”

  “Wasn’t the best time of my life, that’s for sure. But now is worse and this time it’s all of my own making. What else do you want to know?”

  “Did you ever go into Otis’s room?”

  “No. He always said he was too messy to have anyone to his room.”

  “Did you know the security cameras were broken on Otis’s floor?”

  She gave me a wary look. “Yes. But I don’t see why that matters. Can’t get in those rooms without a key card and they’re all assigned to the user.”

  “You can’t just make one up when you’re filling in on the front desk?”

  “I suppose I could have, but as I was out sick the night Otis was killed someone might have noticed if I’d traipsed in and made myself a key card.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” I said. “So how did you know the cameras were down? Was it general knowledge among the staff?”

  “I don’t think so. I mean, it’s not the sort of thing one rushes to the watercooler to gossip about. I knew because accounting left me the work order for the replacement parts to get the manager’s approval. It had been sitting on his desk for several days and security was bugging them about it. Fletcher was coming in that night to oversee a banquet and they asked me to get a signature.”

  “I guess this Otis thing has been a mess for him.”

  She nodded. “He tried to get Otis kicked out. I think he’d gotten wind of the things Otis was up to and didn’t want to deal with the fallout. I know he checked with accounting about his bill but Otis prepaid.”

  “And since he couldn’t get rid of Otis, now he gets to deal with a murder investigation. That can’t be good for business either.”

  “Fletcher is fit to be tied. Can’t say that I blame him. I think the owner came down pretty hard when they met this morning. He came back to work white as a sheet.”

  “Probably worried he’ll lose his job.”

  “Wouldn’t you be?”

  I nodded. “So when you and Otis met, did you go out to eat or to the beach?”

  “Mostly we grabbed a late dinner on my break at the resort.”

  She said it casually, but I could tell I’d touched a nerve. I held in a sigh. Otis must have had charm that I didn’t see in our short interaction, because both Betty and Cynthia had enough indication to question his intent and both had stuck their heads in the sand. I doubted Otis had discovered Love Potion Number 9, so I had to go with superb targeting skills. He knew how to spot a potential victim and exactly how to work her.

  With Cynthia it had been emotional, launching off the death of her friend. With Betty, I got the impression that while the romance end of things wasn’t unwanted, her investment was more financial. I struggled not to sigh. Even when alarms should have been going off, these women had stuck with him. It was a sad commentary on what loneliness and financial burden could do to some people.

  “You never went out during the day?” I said, continuing to press.

  “Once. I kept complaining about never going out and he took me on one of those fishing charters. Worst day of my life. The swells were high and I ended up green as grass. Otis didn’t even fish. Said he just liked to be out on a boat in the deep water and the sunlight.”

  “I’ll bet the boat captain thought he was crazy spending all that money to sit around.”

  She shrugged. “Mikey Marlin. That’s a name for you, right? A rough-looking sort and a bit odd. Didn’t say a word the entire time. Just followed Otis’s directions and anchored when he got there. Then baited up his own rod and set to fishing while Otis did his thing with that fancy camera.”

  “Fancy camera?”

  “Taking pictures of dolphins. He liked to watch them playing. Bunch of big fish flopping around as far as I’m concerned. I don’t get the attraction, especially when my stomach is rolling.”

  “Oh, was that the day Otis was killed?” I asked, even though I knew it wasn’t.

  “No. A couple days before. I was fine the next morning but then that night I managed to latch onto a whole other round of stomach problems. One of those women from housekee
ping left brownies for everyone—all wrapped up in pink netting and bows with our names on them. I should have known better than to eat it, especially with my stomach still unsettled from all that boat rocking. Had to go home early that night and missed the whole next day because of it. Like I can afford to lose shift money.”

  “Maybe you should see a doctor and get checked out,” I said. “You might have an ulcer or something.”

  “I suppose that’s possible. My mom had them. Would need money for the doctor, though. Anyway, I’ve got dishes waiting and a nap to take before my shift.”

  “No problem. Thanks for talking to me.”

  She nodded but didn’t even look at me before closing the door.

  I headed back to the car, mulling over our conversation. A couple of things stood out. The first was that Betty had known about the cameras. The second was that she’d been out sick the night Otis had died. Was she feeling guilty about her handiwork and hiding or trying to give herself an alibi in case the police came knocking?

  I didn’t know the answer. But what I did know was that Betty was angry and bitter and she struck me as someone perfectly capable of slipping him some poisoned fish. I frowned, wondering if her claims of seasickness were a setup for when cause of death came out. I could already hear her defense—I don’t fish because I get seasick.

  It wasn’t enough, of course, but it was another chink in a prosecutor’s case. Of course, she could have lifted the fish from the onsite restaurant, but that came with a whole other set of risks. Surely the resort kept such a dangerous item under lock and key, if for no other reason than to avoid the liability of accidental usage by the terminally stupid. But I had no way of knowing without asking, and that was something that might filter back to Benton. If he found out I was asking questions about puffer fish, he’d figure out what Gertie’s medical emergency was really about.

  I stared out the windshield of my car and blew out a breath. Something about my entire conversation with Betty bothered me. With Cynthia, I’d known she was lying about being in Otis’s room, and I was certain she was aware he’d been moving in on other women. But I got the impression there was something else. With Betty, I got the feeling that the things she’d said were true enough, but she definitely wasn’t saying everything.

 

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