Death in Her Eyes (A Mac Everett Mystery Book 1) (23 page)

“Oh,” she said. I could feel the weight of her disappointment. “All right, if you’re in, like, that much of a hurry. Maybe we can hook up some other time. I can make time for you.”

“Sure Candi, maybe the sixth Thursday of next month,” I said. She didn’t even pick up what I’d said.

“Awesome-sauce, what do you want to know?”

“I’m trying to find out about the money Sharon Greer was trying to raise. Do you know why she wanted it?” I asked.

“It was for her business. Stephanie said it was real cool. It’s a secret.” She lowered her voice to a whisper.

“Did she tell you about it?”

“No, Stephanie did,” she replied. “She said they were going to do high tech research on sea life, make new species, and invent life saving drugs. It sounded crazy cool. I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

Greer hadn’t worked in eight months. How she was going to do all this cool stuff was just smoke and mirrors.

“That’s OK Candi. So Stephanie came with Sharon Greer. What did she say?”

“I didn’t really understand the science part, but she introduced Sharon to daddy.”

This girl was a total ditz. “What did they talk about?”

“I don’t know. I waited outside while they talked business. I sat by the pool.”

“He, your father, turned Greer down, I hear?”

“Yeah, big time! I could have told them he wouldn’t go for it. My daddy doesn’t believe in anything that’s not at least thirty years old, and as for women, well he wouldn’t give a woman a dead battery. So I showed him.”

“What do you mean, you showed him?”

“He was ranting for hours after they left. I got so pissed. Then zowie, I had an idea. I called Stephanie the next day.”

I was quite sure it was the first idea she’d had in maybe ten years, but I decided to bite. “What was that?” I asked.

“Huh?”

I wondered if Candi was high or just plain stupid. Either one was a possibility. “Candi, what was your brilliant idea?”

“Well, my dad was spouting off about Stephanie’s super rich father-in-law and why wasn’t she asking him for money. So I suggested she try her husband’s dad. What could it hurt to ask?”

I couldn’t believe what I’d heard and that I hadn’t thought of it. Stephanie had asked all right. She’d asked for twenty-five million dollars in three threatening notes. She’d been killed before she could collect it, or had she? The problem was Greer was only looking for two million.

“Do you remember when this was, Candi?”

“Let’s see. It hasn’t been long, maybe a few weeks or maybe a couple months, oh I’m not good with dates. You sure we can’t hook up. I know a thing or two, you know, experienced, and I’m a fun date.”

“I’m sure you are Candi.”

“I’m free this afternoon or even tonight if you want to meet somewhere. Your place would be great. You sure you don’t want to hook up. I know we could have a good time.”

I fended off Candi’s last-ditch professional grade flirting by promising to keep in touch. I had no intention of keeping
that
promise.

I dialed Ashton, hoping she’d answer and she did.

“Oh, Mac. What do
you
want?”

“I wanted to make sure you were alright,” I replied.

“I don’t think you should call me for a while,” she suggested. “I’m on my way to the Altamonte Springs Police Department now.”

“What did your father say?” I replied.

“It wasn’t what I expected. He said you weren’t a bad sort. He insisted I take a lawyer with me, but...”

“But you said you were a lawyer so you didn’t need one, right.” I speculated. “Look, we know you didn’t do anything, but it’s never a bad idea…

“Not you, too!” she shouted. “Look…”

“I know. You can take care of yourself. Just be careful. These two detectives are good. It’s a male-female team. Try to direct your answers to the guy,” I advised. “He’ll be more accepting of what you have to say, and it won’t hurt if you show a little leg.”

“OK, thanks.” She said. “Mac, I don’t think we should see each other for awhile, either.”

I wasn’t shocked or even surprised. “Whatever you say Ashton, I understand. I’ll keep working…”

“Mac…I’m sorry.”

Then she was gone. The old Mac would have grabbed a drink right then and there. The bottle was still in the desk drawer. The old Mac might’ve held a gun in his lap all night trying to decide if he’d do it or not. My Beretta was in the drawer too. That was the old Mac. The new me was mad, damn mad and determined.

I went back over all my notes, trying to pull out the smallest overlooked detail. Greer was looking to raise two million and the blackmail was for twenty-five. Was it connected or not? I went back to the photocopies I’d made of the crime scene photos and reread the report summaries. What was I missing?

I was about to give up when the door buzzer startled me.

“Yeah,” I said into the speaker on the desk.

“You havin’ a pity party up there?” Roscoe growled.

“Come on up,” I shot back. I hit the button to unlock the street level door.

Roscoe burst through the door with a pizza in one hand and a liter of Dr. Pepper in the other. “I come bearing gifts,” he proclaimed as he put the pizza on my desk. “Got any ice?”

“You know the way,” I said, pointing to the kitchen.

He disappeared into the kitchen and was back moments later with two glasses of ice and a roll of paper towels. The pizza smelled good and I suddenly realized I was hungry.

Roscoe opened the Dr. Pepper, poured two glasses and handed one to me. He grabbed a slice, slapped it on a paper towel, and took a seat.

“You have this figured out yet, Captain?” he asked.

I gave him a constipated scowl. “Shut up and pass the pizza,” I said. “Thanks for bringing it, by the way. I’m starved.”

I grabbed a slice and sat back, munching on the spicy crust as grease ran down my face. “You know, you missed your calling not doing pizza delivery,” I snickered as I caught the mess sliding down my chin with a paper towel.

“Shut up. I’m retired, remember? I figured I owed you somethin’ between the way I talked to you earlier and the going over you probably got in Altamonte Springs,” he mumbled.

“It was about what I deserved for getting that woman killed,” I fretted.

“Forget it, ain’t your fault, ‘ol buddy. How about we try to figure out whose fault it is?” he chided. “I see you’re using the white board. That’s good.”

When Stan, Roscoe, and I’d been together in Iraq, I’d used a half dozen whiteboards to track information we pried out of high value prisoners. It worked for me then. I hoped it would work for me now.

“Yeah, the only thing I’ve come up with is…”

“Mrs. Hunt wasn’t involved with Greer from the beginning?” Roscoe interrupted as he scanned my scribbles on the time line.

“Apparently not.” I replied.

“When did you say General Hunt got those blackmail notes?”

“It fits. They came a few days apart, about the time Stephanie became involved with Greer. I even talked to a girl this afternoon who says she suggested blackmail to Stephanie. Not in so many words of course,” I offered.

“Oh, of course.”

“Greer was trying to raise two million, but the blackmail was for twenty-five? It doesn’t add up.”

“Maybe the money was going to more than one person,” Roscoe suggested.

“Good idea,” I said. I got up and wrote, ‘partners in blackmail’ with a question mark on the white board.

“Nothing on who she was seeing?” Roscoe observed still looking at my scribbles.

“Well it looks to me like Greer and Stephanie Hunt were hooking up,” I said. “Sharon Greer thinks Cary Hunt was sleeping with one of their friends, but we know he was seeing Kristin Wagner.”

“Could be he was sleeping with both of them,” Roscoe mused.

“That’s two good ideas for you. Want a job?” I joked as I wrote a note about Libby Davis and Tawni Williams on the board.

We both stared at the white board, hoping it would talk to us.

“You know what this looks like to me?” Roscoe said.

“What,” I said looking more closely myself.

“Maybe your retired general paid the blackmail. That’s why he called you off,” Roscoe said.

I sat back and slapped my forehead. Why hadn’t I seen it?

“That’s brilliant Roscoe. I missed it completely.”

“Why don’t you call General Hunt and ask if he paid up? That would explain why the notes stopped.”

“Of course!” I exclaimed. “That’s why he closed the case and why he didn’t call me when his daughter-in-law was killed. I’ll give him a call.”

I whipped my cell phone out and dialed the familiar number, not knowing how I’d be received. Norris answered on the third ring.

“Norris, this is Mac Everett. Is the general available?” I asked.

“No, Mr. Everett he is out for the evening. When he left tonight he said to ask you to come round tomorrow morning, if you called.”

“Thank you Norris. I can be there by ten. Will you let the general know?” I replied.

He anticipated my calling. Was this about Ashton, I wondered?

“Norris, how did he seem to you when he said I would call?”

“I wouldn’t know, Mr. Everett,” the butler replied.

“Well thank you, Norris. Please let the general know I called and he can expect me in the morning,” I said.

“Thank you, sir, and good night,” Norris said.

Roscoe had a quizzical look about him and said, “What was all that?”

I sighed and put my hand to my chin, then said, “He wasn’t there, but he expected me to call.”

“Is that so strange?” he asked.

“I guess not.”

I sat staring at the wall, eyes narrowed in concentration. As the silence lingered, Roscoe reached for another slice. He’d seen my semi catatonic contemplation before.

I shook my head, trying to create data that wasn’t there.

“I don’t know what to think,” I said at last.

“Well, maybe you can find out more when we talk to him tomorrow,” Roscoe offered.

“Whada ya mean
we
?” I asked. “You’re not going.”

“Sure I am. You need me,” he said with a smile. “You’ve got a concussion, remember? You shouldn’t drive.”

“Yeah, but you’re not going,” I insisted. “I need you alive.”

“Let’s try a different subject, then, what was the name of that poison the ME found?” he asked as he took out his notebook.

“Tetrodotoxin?”

“Yeah, that’s it, tetro-something. Here it is,” he said flipping through his spiral notebook. “I’ve been to the library, searched on line, even called a street dealer I know…”

“Oh, I can’t believe it. You know a drug dealer?” I said in mock shock. He shot me a bird and continued.

“I checked with a ‘supplier’ I know. Don’t ask any questions about that…but I found out there is only…”

“I know, only a handful of places to get it,” I cut in. “I’ve been looking too.”

“But did you look in the right place? There’s only one source in Florida.”

Roscoe had my attention now. I listened intently, but he was going to make me ask.

“Ok, I’ll bite. Where?” I asked.

“Right here in Orlando, in fact. It’s out by the airport.”

“You don’t mean Perimeter Marine Research!” I shouted, as I sprang from my chair.

“I think it’s time we paid that place a visit and spoke to Dr. Sharon Greer,” Roscoe concluded.

“Again, with the
we
,” I said. “You are not going anywhere any way,” I insisted. 

“Why can’t I go?” he said. “I can take care of myself.”

“Sure you can. I’ve already gotten two people killed, that detective and the tennis coach…”

“Those weren’t your fault.”

“An old guy like you with a bad leg is going to run down these…”

“And I suppose a broken down alki like you is…”

We both stopped, glowered at each other a moment and broke out laughing.

“What are we arguing about,” he asked. “Let me go with you. I’ll drive and keep quiet.”

“No, I’m not going to be responsible for getting you killed.”

“At the first sign of trouble I’ll make like the I-talian Army and beat it,” he said.

“No you won’t. I’ve been in combat with you remember? Thanks Roscoe, but I can’t take that chance. I have to go it alone. Besides, it’s just an interview.”

Roscoe crossed his arms and scowled.

I sat back and chuckled.

“What’s so damn funny?” he demanded.

“Nothing, I guess. It’s just you look like the little kid on that old Life cereal commercial. Remember,” I made a high and squeaky voice and said, “Let’s give it to Mikey, he hates everything.”

“Hey, that’s not fair.”

“I know you just want to help, but I couldn’t bear it if you got hurt. Please…”