Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 07 - Mucky Streak (22 page)

I nodded slowly. “Yeah, I do. I really hope I don’t regret trusting him.”

“
All I know is that phone call was creepy,” Holly said.

I agreed with my new friend
. But there was something else that bothered me. The Watcher had said he could get in trouble. The only way he could get in trouble was if he was working for someone.

Was this man just another player in a twisted game?

CHAPTER 26

I sat at a coffeehouse in an area of Cincinnati known as Over the Rhine. When it came to rough areas of town, I’d bet this was considered one of the worst. It was just a guess, but the area was located in downtown Cincinnati and felt very
inner city poor.

But Holly and
Jamie had insisted that the coffeehouse was one of the best in the area, and I had to agree that my caramel macchiato was tasty. The servers all were grungy with piercings, tattoos, and funky hair. The patrons were varied, and the interior was nothing fancy.

I’d wanted to chat with Garrett
, but when I’d called Lyndsey answered his phone and informed me that Garrett was in the middle of an important business call. As much as I wanted answers now, I decided to let my theories simmer. I tried to brush off my curiosity about Garrett’s meeting and his relationship with Lyndsey, too.

The woman had a certain possessiveness in her gaze that was fine with me.
She could have Garrett all to herself.

As we huddled in a corner,
Jamie pulled open her laptop. “What do you want me to look up? You name it, I’ll do an Internet search for it. They don’t call me Twinkle Fingers for nothing.”

I wasn’t used to having such willing accomplices …
er, helpers.

“I hardly know
where to begin. I really think, at this point, that the murders are somehow tied in with Wimbledon Pharmaceuticals, in part because those vacations Tess mentioned were with people from the company.”

“The Watcher certainly react
ed when you mentioned his mom, which would line up with your theory,” Jamie said. “If that’s the case, the motive would go back to Cassidy instead of Edward, though. Right?”

“Possibly,” I said. “My gut is still telling me that Edward was the killer’s primary focus.
Until I talk to Garrett, I have no way of obtaining any more information on those vacations, including who was there and what happened. Edward is a better one to start with. He was having marital problems and maybe even problems at work also.”

“What kind of problems at work?” Holly asked.
She batted her eyelashes, truly reminding me of someone from the fifties—innocent and sweet.

“I talked to his coworkers and they gave no indication
that anything was wrong.” Then again, people lied all the time, especially if it was in their best interest.

“But things aren’t always as perfect as they seem,” Holly reminded us.

“Then what about his marital problems?” Jamie asked.

“I know the police and the FBI examined Mr. Mercer
’s love life pretty extensively,” I told them. “They found all of his affairs very suspect. But the police questioned all of those women and cleared them.” It was why I hadn’t questioned any of them.

“Is Garrett like that?”
Holly asked. “A womanizer?”

I frowned. “I thought he was. Now I don’t know. He confuses me.”

“Typical man,” Jamie proclaimed.

We all laughed. Her words were too, too true.

I sobered when I remembered the case. I warmed my hands around my mug and leaned forward. “Let’s just imagine for a moment that somehow this murder had something to do with Edward’s job. The problem is: How do we prove that? I don’t have access to anything at the company, and I have no way to get access. Plus, there’s the fact that Vic Newport’s daughter was pregnant with Garrett Mercer’s child, and the fact that he wasn’t home when his daughter arrived there on the evening of the murders.”

“Vic Newport, huh?” Jamie mumbled. She tapped away at her computer. A moment later, she turned the screen to us. “Check out this picture. Is it just me or is Vic Newport giving the strangest look to the woman posing with him?”

I leaned closer to the computer and studied the picture. I recognized Vic Newport, and both Reginald Jr. and Smith Wimbledon. There were also three others in the photo. They were accepting some kind of award. The woman wasn’t named in the caption.

“She does l
ook familiar.” I shook my head, unable to place her. Maybe I’d seen her in the office that day? At the gala?

The woman had short
brown hair, a long nose, glasses, and a matronly suit. The date on the picture said it was taken six years ago. The woman looked to be in her mid-twenties, I’d guess.

I looked away. “I’m not sure if this photo helps us. Maybe it was just taken in one of those off moments
and the look on Vic Newport’s face means nothing. I’m not sure it tells us anything.”

Jamie
sat up, her eyes bright. “Maybe I could help find some answers about Mr. Newport.”

“How do you propose to do that?”
Hope tinged my voice.

“Maybe I could say I want to write an article on the company.” She shrugged. “I am a freelance journalist.
I’ve written for some local magazines and newspapers. As I was surfing around online, I saw that Mr. Newport won a leadership award. It’s the perfect angle for a human-interest story. Companies love stuff like that.”

I was sure Portman
from Publicity would jump at the opportunity.

But h
er suggestion was risky. Intriguing, but risky. “What if they say yes to an interview? What then? Are you going to sneak off and search through their files?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. But something is better than nothing, right?”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to put you in harm’s way or get you in trouble.”

“Girl, I’m putting myself in harm’s way and getting myself in trouble. But I’m okay with that. Besides, I’ve got a good head on my shoulders. I know how to be sly.”

I glanced at Holly. She nodded enthusiastically.

“I’d trust her,”
Holly added. “A girl who has enough self control to lose 100 pounds can handle something like this.”

“Really?” I questioned.

Jamie tilted her head. “Girl, I was fat. Went from 260 to 160. Now people can’t take enough pictures of me. In fact, I photo bomb people as often as possible. That’s how proud I am of this new body.”

She ran her hand up and down, as if showcasing herself.

“I’m impressed. Losing that much weight is not an easy task.” I didn’t even have the willpower to give up coffee. Not that I’d ever tried. I mean, the very idea was ludicrous.

Jamie
stared at me, waiting for my response, light dancing in her eyes. “Besides, I might not even get the interview. This is just an idea. I mean, it’s not like you can go, Gabby. They’ve already seen your face there.”

She had a point.

“Let’s test the waters,” I conceded. “I doubt you’ll even get in. They seemed pretty stringent.”

Jamie
still tapped away at the computer. “I’m sending an interview request email now and marking it urgent.”

Before I could say anything else
, my cellphone started singing, “That’s Amore.”

My heart sped.

Riley.

CHAPTER 27

I stepped outside—despite a warning from
Jamie and Holly that this wasn’t a safe area of town—and put the phone to my ear. “Hey, Riley.”

“Hey, Gabby. I’ve missed you.”

My heart warmed. Maybe I was reading too much into this and things really were fine between us. “I’ve missed you, too. How are you? How’s therapy going?”

“I think I’m making some progress. I mean, living with my parents isn’t ideal. Not at my age. But I think the decision was good.”

“I’m glad.” I stayed under the ripped awning as water dripped from the nighttime sky.

“How are you, Gabby?”

I looked around me as a police officer chased a man down the street. I remembered being drugged, my tires being slashed, and my every move being watched. “Doing okay. Nothing too exciting here.”

“I saw the picture.”

I searched my brain for a frame of reference but got nothing. “The picture?”

“The one in the paper. You were rescuing a woman from a
hotel in Cincinnati.”

Surprise
—and maybe guilt?—washed over me. “Oh, that picture. All the way out in D.C., huh?”

“It made national news.
You have that many powerful people in one place and it gets attention.”

Why hadn’t I considered that? So much for keeping this under wraps.
On the other hand, I was amazed that Riley had put that together. Again, how his brain worked right now continued to perplex me.

“You would think people had better things to report on, right?” Again, I kept my voice light. As two police cars came blaring my way, I stepped back inside, trading privacy for safety.

“You didn’t tell me you accepted the P.I. job.” Hurt lined his voice.

“I didn’t want to stress you out
,” I told him honestly. “I was trying to keep things simple.”

“You could have told me.”

“Things just seem so complicated right now, Riley.” Maybe I shouldn’t have said the words. Maybe I shouldn’t stir things up. But what I’d said was the truth.

I secretly wanted him to
correct me. To insist that things were simple. That nothing had changed.

Instead, he said, “You’re right. Things do feel complicated.”

Silence stretched. I didn’t know exactly what to say. So I figured I should say exactly that. “What’s this mean for us, Riley?” My throat ached as I said the words.

“My therapist says—”

“No offense, Riley. I’m sure your therapist is very wise. But I really want to know what you have to say.” I closed my eyes, waiting for his response, trying to ignore the dread forming in my gut.

“I’m just trying to take it one day at a time, Gabby. You’ve been my rock.”

“I want to be your rock now.”

“Gabby …” Silence stretched another moment.

I could tell he was trying to find the words. “Yes?”

“I need to go
,” he finally said. “My head is pounding. But we’ll talk again soon, okay?”

I pressed my lips together, trying not to let my chin quiver. “Okay, let’s talk soon.”

I hung up and stared at my phone a moment.

Just what did all of that mean?
And how was I ever going to come to terms with all the real and potential changes in my life.

***

The next morning I went to church with the Paladins. Part of me had wanted to skip services and continue investigating. I couldn’t do that, though. If I did, my life would be out of balance. If God could take time to rest, then certainly I could, too.

Being around the Paladin family
fascinated me. Mrs. Paladin always had a big smile stretched across her face, Alex had a dry sense of humor, Ralphie may have been a bigger schmoozer than Garrett, and Holly just sat back, soaking them all in.

They’d moved on from the heartache
of losing their dad; yet, they had no idea about Holly. I hoped she told them soon.

It was good to see a family that had pulled through a tragedy and w
ere stronger than before. Tragedy had only torn my family apart. Just as tragedy continued to pull my world apart now. I had to make the uncertainty in my life work to my advantage, work to make me a better person.

After church, we had lunch. I met Alex the Great’s fiancé. Holly’s “friend”
(and Ralphie’s campaign manager) Brian had also stopped by. I had the impression that Sunday lunches were important to the family; that they rarely missed them. I also had the impression that the family often included others. Being around them made me miss my friends in Norfolk. I’d see them soon enough, I supposed—provided that I hadn’t been evicted from my apartment building under a potential new owner.

Jamie
called as lunch wrapped up, and Holly handed the phone to me. “You’ll never believe this,” Jamie rushed.

“Believe what?”

“Wimbledon Pharmaceuticals emailed me back.”

“On a Sunday?”
It sounded like other people needed some of that same balance I’d been seeking lately.

“I know. That’s what I said. I guess their PR people work around the clock. They agreed to an interview tomorrow.”

“No way!”

“It’s true. It helped that I gave them a deadline of Tuesday.”

“You sure you’re okay with doing this?” I still had concerns.

“You know it.
They want all of the positive publicity they can get on their employees and their charitable efforts. I might just have to throw in a few questions to throw them off guard, though.” She paused. “One other thing. I called Rebecca Newport again.”

“And?”

“She said a whole bunch of stuff. Most of it didn’t make sense. Honestly, I think the drugs messed up the woman and she still has a few screws loose. But she did say one thing that caught my attention. She said her ex, Vic Newport, had one mean temper.”

“Enough of a temper that maybe he snapped and pulled the trigger?”

“That’s the question.”

When I hung up with Jamie
, I called Garrett. I needed to ask him about his vacations. I hoped Lyndsey didn’t answer again. She didn’t.

“Where’s your assistant?” I couldn’t
stop myself from asking.

“Headed back to Norfolk this morning. You’re not jealous I was spending time with her, are you?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was just worried because of your emergency board meeting.”

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head over. Now, wha
t can I do for you, Shirleylock?”

I didn’t love the nickname, but I ignored it.
It was better than him calling me Love. “I’d like to ask you a few questions and also to get a photo from Cassidy’s room.”

“You’ve got me curious now. How about if I meet you at the house in thirty?”

A half an hour later, I pulled up to the Mercer house. No sooner had I put my car in park when that familiar uncomfortable feeling washed over me. The feeling of being watched.

For that reason, I stayed in the car and waited.

I never let my gaze stop roaming the area.

I’d almost been here for a week, and I knew if I didn’t wrap this
case up soon, I was going to have to leave this unfinished and do the rest of my research back in Norfolk. I didn’t want to do that. My best chances were here in Cincinnati, and I did feel like I was getting closer. I had to remember that the police had worked on this for years without any conclusions. Who was I to think I could wrap it up in a week?

I
scanned the woods again. Whoever this guy was threatening me, he may not hesitate to put a bullet through the windshield and, in effect, through my head. Especially not after I’d aggravated him yesterday.

Thankfully, Garrett pulled up just then. With t
wo of us here … well, what protection was that? Both of us could die now, I supposed.

Garrett
looked a little sad as he approached my car. I saw the haunted look in his eyes. This case was beginning to weigh on him. I realized that, with everything that had happened, it was no longer just a cold case; it was now an active investigation. Covering up his mourning with his charm was becoming more difficult.

“Gabby. Good to see you again.”

“Thanks for meeting with me.” I took his arm and pulled him toward the door. “We’re too exposed out here. We’ve got to get inside.”

“You think …” His eyes scanned the perimeter of the land, only briefly, and then his steps picked up. “Let’s go.”

We reached the door, he unlocked it, and we rushed inside.

As soon as we stepped onto the tile
d entryway, we froze.

Someone had been here. They’d
either been looking for us or trying to send a message. The couch was overturned, pictures were slashed, curtains were ripped.

“I guess it’s time to call the police again,” Garrett muttered.

I squeezed his arm, seeing the pain in his eyes. I had a feeling that, through this vandalism, he was somehow reliving coming into his house and finding his family. How did someone get over a tragedy like that? They either made themselves better or they let their grief consume them. Consuming grief led to depression, despair, and sometimes even psychotic episodes.

Which one was Garrett? The overcomer everyone thought he was? Or a man with split personalities, a man who set up crime scenes like this to keep people interested in the case?

I shook the thought off, thinking about that bullet that could have hit him.

But then I remembered that he’d lied about being in town on the night of the murders. I thought about him disappearing at the gala, those cellphones in his car, the fact that Garrett had never been with me when the Watcher called.

My thoughts were ridiculous, and I needed to put them to rest. A man who spent his life trying to help the less fortunate in other countries wasn’t secretly a mass murderer.

He
pulled out his cellphone and dialed 911. “The police are on their way.”

“Can I go into
Cassidy’s room before they get here?” I knew if I didn’t get to that information now, I was going to have to wait until the scene cleared. I didn’t have that time.

“I thought we shouldn’t touch anything?”

“Whoever did this didn’t leave any evidence. I think we both know that.”

He stared at me a moment and then nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

I was careful not to disturb anything as I followed Garrett upstairs to his sister’s bedroom. The inside of this room had also been tussled. Someone had wanted to make a serious statement, or they were looking for something. My bets were on making a statement.

“What do you need to look at?”

I went straight to the pictures on her dresser and grabbed them. I knew I didn’t have much time. “How about journals?”

He shook his head. “She wasn
’t the journaling type.”

“Are there any more photo
albums or pictures around here?”

He pointed to a basket by the closet. “Check over there.”

I slipped some gloves on.

“Gloves?”

“You never know when you might need them.”

Garrett raised his eyebrows. “
I hear you.  You better get moving.”

I began riffling through the most promising looking
photos, grabbing any I saw from the beach. I wished I could ask Garrett questions as I went, but I knew I had no time.

“What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know for sure. But I’ll know when I find it.”

He paced back toward the door. “The police are here, Gabby. You’ve got to get
downstairs.”

I rushed through a few more
pictures. My fingers moved more frantically as my heart rate quickened.

“They’re at the door. We’ve got to go.”

I grabbed a small album. “I’ll give these back. I promise.”

I shoved them into my oversized purse,
thrust the basket back in place, and went to meet the officers at the door.