Open Season for Murder (A Mac Faraday Mystery Book 10) (9 page)

Neither Mac nor David missed noticing that the Breckenridge estate was a short run along the lakeshore path from the Piedmont mansion—very conveniently located for a burglary suspect.

They found Dr. Elizabeth Breckenridge and her daughter, Rachel, sunning on the dock behind the sprawling French country style home.

Even with the money from her position as chairperson of a prestigious medical school, Dr. Breckenridge looked every day of her plus-fifty years. Her face was bloated to make her eyes look like tiny brown circles with heavy bags hanging underneath. Her gray hair hung limply down to her shoulders. She covered her doughy figure with a robe, allowing only her plump legs to get the sun.

In contrast, Rachel Breckenridge wore a demure royal blue two-piece swimsuit. Her long dark hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. She kept her head back and her body spread out to allow the sun access to every inch of flesh.

While David explained the reason for their visit to ask if they had noticed anything suspicious at the Piedmont estate, which was in plain view across the cove, Mac saw the small stone cottage tucked away in a grove of trees off in the corner of the estate. He also took note of a face peering out at them from between the curtains. Seeming to notice Mac peering in his direction, the figure in the window stepped back and the curtain fell limp.

“I’m sure no one who lives here on the cove would go breaking into houses, especially Ashton’s house,” Rachel was saying.

“Except Carlisle,” Elizabeth interjected in a low voice that would have been considered sexy in her younger years. Now she almost sounded like a man.

Recalling Carlisle’s description of the woman she heard Ashton arguing with as having a low voice, Mac’s head jerked around from where he had been watching the guest cottage.

“She’s back, you know,” Elizabeth Breckenridge said. “I saw her out on the dock this morning doing what looked like yoga. At least this time she was dressed. I don’t care how much money her parents and grandfather left her, you know how quickly you can blow a billion dollars up your nose when you have a habit like hers? It’s her fault Ashton is dead. She was so drunk that she couldn’t get up off her knees to help her.” With an arched eyebrow, she jerked her head in the direction of the round house across the cove. “That’s where you should be looking for your burglar—not here.”

“Do you mind if we look around,” Mac said before David could respond. “Hate to leave you ladies to your sun bathing only to find some desperate junkie hiding out here to attack you as soon as we leave.”

“Your desperate junkie is over there,” Elizabeth said.

Rachel had already settled back onto her chaise. “Feel free. We have nothing to hide.”

When Mac stepped back up the dock in the direction of the guest cottage, Rachel sprang up on the chaise. “Don’t go in the guest cottage. We’ve got guests. Their plane came in late last night and they’re asleep.”

The corner of Mac’s lips curled when he glanced back at David, who replied, “We’ll be as quiet as mice.”

Mac waited until they were out of earshot before whispering to him, “Wagner is wide awake.”

“Good,” David replied. “Then we won’t have to wake him up.”

Instead of A.J. Wagner answering their knock on the door, a young man with long dark hair and piercing dark eyes opened the door a crack. He took a long moment to take note of David’s police chief’s badge before asking, “Can I help you?”

“We’d like to speak to A.J. Wagner, please,” David replied.

“He’s—”

“Let them in, Corey,” they heard called out from further in the cottage. “I’ve been expecting them.”

As ordered, Corey stepped back and opened the door to allow them entry.

Wearing a polo shirt, khaki slacks, and loafers on his feet, A.J. Wagner stood to meet them in the cozy living room. With his neat blond hair and square jaw and straight nose, he looked like half of the young men Mac saw hanging out at the Spencer Inn’s sports club.

The difference between A.J. and those young men was a smoldering look in his eyes. Mac had seen it before in many a young man’s eyes. Fury was brewing beneath the surface.

When David made the introductions, A.J. was quick to place Mac while shaking his hand. “You own the Spencer Inn. You’re hosting the Diablo Ball.”

“And you’ve already RSVPed,” Mac said.

“Like he had a choice,” Corey muttered.

“As in you didn’t?” David replied.

“Jasmine Simpson and Lindsey York made sure of that.” With a wave of his arm, A.J. gestured for Mac and David to take a seat in the two chairs in the living room, while he eased down onto the sofa.

“They needed you for their show about Ashton’s murder,” Mac said. “It wouldn’t be much of a show without the victim’s boyfriend.”

The smoldering fury in his eyes sparked. “I never wanted to come back to this place. Everywhere I look I see Ashton. As a matter of fact, I sold the family summer place. My plan was to get through medical school and move on with my life. But then Rachel and her mother got their claws into me, and then that invitation came—”

“If he refused, they’d kill A.J.’s medical career before it even started with one phone call,” Corey said.

“I was still going to say no,” A.J. said.

“What do they have on you?” David asked. “Did you kill Ashton?”

“No!” Corey answered in an angry tone. “A.J. loved Ashton. He’d do nothing to hurt her.”

“I’d like to hear him say that,” Mac said. “You two do know that we found her body. She didn’t drown. She was murdered.”

“I thought she’d drowned,” A.J. said. “Carlisle told everyone Ashton had drowned while they were skinny dipping.”

“And you weren’t there,” Mac said. “Why not?”

“He was partying with me,” Corey said too quickly.

Mac turned his attention to A.J.’s devoted best friend. “What were you doing?”

“Drinking.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Could you have been drowning your sorrows because you had a fight with Ashton?” Mac asked A.J.

“Why would we have been fighting?” A.J. asked.

“You tell me.”

“Does A.J. need a lawyer?” Corey stepped between them.

“Maybe I should ask Rachel and her mother what they got that was good enough to put their claws in you and drag you back here,” Mac replied. “Or should I talk to Lindsey, who also seems to have something on you?”

“What have you two done?” David said. “If it wasn’t murder—”

Corey was ready to do battle when A.J. replied, “Ashton and I weren’t fighting; she disappeared—or was murdered—before Lindsey could tell her.”

“Tell her what?” David wanted to know.

“That summer,” A.J. said slowly, “that day, that afternoon as a matter of fact, Lindsey came over to my place—the lake house my family had left me. She said she was looking for Ashton for some reason and, since she wasn’t at her house, she assumed she’d find her with me. Well, Ashton wasn’t there. Lindsey had a bottle of something and offered me a drink. I had one drink—”

“A.J. is not a drunk,” Corey interjected.

“No, I’m not,” A.J. said. “Lindsey drugged me. I have no doubt about that. By the next day, Ashton had disappeared—murdered, I guess--and Lindsey had a sex tape of her and me together in bed.”

“How did she make a tape if she was at your place?” Mac asked.

“She had a special camera on her phone that she had positioned in a pocket of her purse so that she got everything.”

“What did she want from you?” David asked.

“Money at first,” A.J. said. “Then …”

When A.J.’s voice trailed off, Corey jumped in. “You might as well tell them everything, A.J. Lindsey was keeping you busy in bed while Dr. Breckenridge was killing Ashton.” His southern roots and accent came out in his excitement.

“Why would Dr. Breckenridge want to kill Ashton Piedmont?” Mac replied.

In a steady tone, A.J. said, “She killed my father and then she killed Ashton.”

“And now they’re trying to force A.J. into a shotgun wedding,” Corey said.

David asked them, “Did she murder Ashton to make you available for Rachel?”

“And your father?” Mac noted. “Why would she kill him?”

“This all has to do with Dr. Ross Piedmont, Ashton’s grandfather” A.J. said. “Dr. Breckenridge was his protégé. Dr. Piedmont was a brilliant doctor. Ashton would have been, too. She graduated top of her class from pre-med. Her grandfather was very proud of her.” He stopped to swallow. “I loved her. We were going to start a clinic together in the northern Alaska—in the wilderness region.”

“But Ashton wasn’t an arrogant bitch about being the brightest,” Corey said. “I was barely scraping by in pre-med. I was about to drop out when both Ashton and A.J. took me on. They spent so much time working with me that I could graduate. I never would have gotten into med school if it wasn’t for them.”

Taking note of the passion in Corey’s tone, and his long dark hair, Mac wondered if Corey was the Greaser that Carlisle Green had told them about. “Ashton sounds like a great young lady.”

“She was,” A.J. said.

“Which makes me wonder what she was doing skinny dipping with Carlisle Green, a known drug addict, at the time of her disappearance,” Mac said. “What’s the connection between a brilliant scientist and a party girl?”

“Don’t you ever need to blow off steam, Mr. Faraday?” Corey asked.

Before Mac could answer, A.J. said, “Carlisle Green was a lot deeper than people gave her credit for. Sure, on the surface, she’d come across like a Lindsey York, but she wasn’t like that at all—and Ashton saw that. Ashton used to babysit Carlisle during the summers here on the lake—being next door and all. Ashton’s folks died when she was just a little girl. When Carlisle’s parents gave up on her, and then died—followed by her grandfather, Ashton knew her well enough to see beneath the drugs and booze to know that Carlisle was really hurting, but too proud to ask for help.”

“That’s why Ashton took time to hang out with Carlisle,” Corey said. “A.J. and I tried to suggest that she cut things off with her—that Carlisle would ruin her reputation with her drugs and partying, but Ashton refused because she was loyal to her friends.”

“Plus, Ashton did confess that Carlisle knew how to have a good time,” A.J. said.

“I remember that last summer,” Corey said with a sad tone, “Ashton told us that one day, Carlisle would surprise everyone. That when she grew up, if she learned how to use her inner strength, that she was destined to be a great lady, and do great things in this world.”

“Sounds like Ashton was quite a perceptive lady,” Mac said.

“That still doesn’t explain why Dr. Breckenridge and her daughter would want her dead,” David said.

“Because Dr. Breckenridge stole Dr. Piedmont’s book,” A.J. said. “The book and research that made her who she is today—the world’s number one expert on using three-dimensional technology to replace body parts in medical research. Dr. Breckenridge wasn’t the expert. Dr. Piedmont—and Ashton—were. All Dr. Breckenridge did was assist
him
in his research and keep track of his notes. He was writing his book while doing his research—here at the lake house.”

“Dr. Piedmont died while Ashton was in Europe doing an internship at Oxford,” Corey said. “By the time Ashton got back, Breckenridge had submitted all of Piedmont’s material to a publisher in New York, who accepted it as hers.”

“Dr. Piedmont had died before he could copyright anything,” A.J. said. “Breckenridge had stolen everything. But my father knew the truth because he and Dr. Piedmont were friends. He was going to expose Breckenridge.” With a wave of his hand, he announced, “Suddenly, my father was dead of a heart attack … when he had a medical only six weeks before in which they declared his heart completely healthy.”

“Don’t you think that sounds like a very strong motive for killing Ashton?” Corey asked them.

“The note that Lindsey found at the table at the Diablo Ball,” Mac said, “was that meant for Dr. Breckenridge, who was originally assigned at your table?”

A.J. nodded his head. “Ashton had left it for her. She was determined to expose Dr. Breckenridge for the phony she is.”

“Sounds like quite a conspiracy they have going,” Mac said with a hint of doubt in his tone. A.J.’s and Corey’s youth made him wonder if they had possibly let an active imagination get the best of them. “Lindsey happens by your place to seduce you—”

“She drugged me,” A.J. said. “Why would I want to be with
her
when I had Ashton?”

“Then, while you were being otherwise occupied with Lindsey and out of the way,” Mac said, “Ashton, who is out to expose Dr. Breckenridge for plagiarism and theft and possibly murder, ends up being murdered. And now, you’re being blackmailed—have been for years—by the very two women behind all of this.”

“I’d let them post the sex tape on the Internet,” David said. “Everyone in Spencer has had a sex tape posted on the Internet.”

“Not me,” Mac interjected.

“That’s because you’re boring,” David told him out of the side of his mouth.

“Is there a sex tape of you—”

“There’s something you’re not telling us,” David interrupted Mac’s question by returning to the topic of their discussion.

“Positions at the best medical centers are very competitive,” A.J. said. “They do a search of the Internet to determine character of the applicants. If that sex tape ends up on the Internet with my name attached to it, I won’t be able to get a job anywhere.”

“When A.J. said he didn’t want to be in the investigative report,” Corey said, “Lindsey gave a copy of that tape to Jasmine to use for leverage. It’s dated and time stamped—proof of his infidelity and motive for killing Ashton during a lovers’ fight.”

“Lindsey is claiming that Ashton walked in on us and that the last she saw Ashton, we were fighting about my sleeping with her,” A.J. said. “Never happened. She’s giving that recording to whoever she has to in order to get what she wants.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I might as well let her post it on the Internet.”

“They actually expect A.J. to marry Rachel,” Corey said.

“I can’t see how they can do that,” David said. “What would they have to gain by that?”

”I don’t have to be faithful,” A.J. said. “I just have to give her my name, which will give them my unofficial endorsement. My father, Dr. Howard Wagner, was the university president. He had a lot of contacts and influence in the academic community. Dr. Breckenridge has faked her way through the medical community and squeezed everything she can out of Piedmont’s research. Now she wants to be university president before conning her way into politics.”