The Hard Fall (2 page)

Dad gave me a quick smile. He knew that I was covering my concern with lame humour.

I told Dad about my new case while we ate at the kitchen table. Dad had followed the story in the paper like everyone else in Ottawa. Everyone, that is, except me. I’d heard bits and pieces, of course. But starting a business and looking after Dad and his house had kept me busy the last few months. I hadn’t had time to wade into the Taylors’ backgrounds or to read up on the juicy gossip.

“The Taylors don’t have any kids,” Dad said. “He’s the CEO of a company that made millions building helicopters. His big plant is outside Kingston but the head office is here. He was elected to city council last year. She used to be a swimsuit model but gave that up to marry him. Two of the beautiful people. It’s like watching a train wreck.”

“What about his mistress, Laura Flint? Do you know anything about her?”

“Her husband died in a hunting accident some years back. Not sure where they lived, but I seem to remember it was out west. She moved into one of those fancy houses in Rockcliffe, so she’s not hurting for money. I guess that’s how she met the Taylors.”

“Beware of rich widows,” I said. I stood and took our empty plates to the counter. “Can I get you anything else, Dad?”

Dad stretched his arms over his head. He’d lost weight and it hurt to look at him too closely. “Think I’ll call it a night. How about I do some fact-finding for you tomorrow on my computer? Might be of some use putting together your case, given all my work experience.”

“That would be a big help. I have some files from Taylor’s lawyer to go through tonight. I’ll leave a list of names for you to run searches on.” Dad had worked in military intelligence the last part of his career. He’d spent a lot of time searching for information on computers.

“Consider it done.”

From the kitchen, I watched Dad walk with ramrod-straight back. No matter how much pain he was in, he never let on. The Sweets never let on. I leaned on the counter and closed my eyes for a moment. When I heard him climb into his bed, I opened my eyes and blinked away the blurriness. I gave myself a shake. Dad was going to make it through. I just had to keep the faith. He would accept no less from the daughter he raised in his likeness.

Never show your underbelly. If you’re hurting, suck it up.

The Sweet family motto. The words we live by, until death do us part.

P
aul Taylor sat across the table from me in the meeting room. He wore an orange jump suit and handcuffs. He held himself like a man used to being in charge, but I saw signs of wear. His silver hair had grown just shaggy enough to let me know he wasn’t getting two-hundred-dollar haircuts in jail. His eyes were piercing blue but tired. They studied me. He had a poker face; I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“I’m sorry to have to make you repeat everything,” I said. “I’m going to examine every bit of evidence again. I’d like to start with you and Laura Flint.”

“A bad decision on my part,” Paul said.

“Excuse me?”

“To start up with her. I didn’t kill her.”

“I’m keeping an open mind. Tell me how the two of you met.” He nodded when I showed him my tape recorder. I pressed play and set it on the table between us.

“Laura moved in next door about six months ago. We used to meet walking the dogs. Chatted about the weather, dog grooming, nothing stuff. Then she started talking about her husband and how hard his death hit her. She’d tried to forget by travelling to far off places. It helped a bit, but she was lonely. We started planning our walks and going for coffee. I swear I never thought of her as anything but a friend. Katie was restless at home so she went back to work last fall. Most of her jobs were out of town. In fact, she was gone most of May and June on location. I know that doesn’t excuse me sleeping with Laura. I just fell into it. It was a stressful time and Laura was there to listen. I was alone . . . a lot.”

“Did Katie know?”

He answered quickly. Maybe too quickly. “No. She quit taking work in July and talked about starting a family. I’m older than her. It had been one of our sticking points. I wanted children but she didn’t. I thought that we were going in the same direction at last. I told Laura we had to stop seeing each other. She accepted it, no big deal. At least I thought so.”

“You and Katie had problems before she started working out of town?”

“Some. Yeah. We’d grown apart the year before. I still loved her and didn’t want to lose her. Needless to say, I was thrilled when she wanted to start a family. It felt like a new beginning. We planned a summer-long holiday in Spain to make a baby. Laura’s murder put an end to that.”

“How did Katie react when she found out you’d been sleeping with Laura? I know it came out after the murder.”

“Katie was hurt, but she understood. She said she’d stand by me because she knows I’m not a killer. I might have made mistakes, but I love my wife more than breathing. Katie knows that.”

“The maid found Laura dead in your bed. Do you have any idea how she got there?”

He shook his head. “It was Saturday. A beautiful August day and I had an early tee-off time. The police arrested me at the club house at noon. Katie was visiting her family in Toronto. I have no idea what Laura was doing in my bed—or how she got into the house.”

“I heard that your company wants to buy you out.”

The flash of anger in his eyes was the first sign of real emotion that I’d seen. He quickly covered it by looking down at his hands. “Gordon and Kyle. Yeah, I’ve heard. But I’ll let those backstabbers buy the company if I’m found guilty. I want Katie to be taken care of.”

“I wonder why you’d have two guys like them working for you.” I threw out the statement, hoping to see more of his anger. Until now, he’d been doing what got him elected: hiding what he felt behind an unreadable face.

“I’ve known Gordon since we were in university together. He’s bright but not good at getting his ideas off the ground.” Paul shrugged. His blue eyes stared into mine. “Lately, he’d started resenting me. We were arguing about money.”

“How so?”

“He wanted a bigger cut of the profits. Bottom line is that he’d be nowhere without me. I didn’t owe Gordon anything more than what he got.”

“What about Kyle?”

“Kyle has less business sense than Gordon. He’s not as concerned about making money as Gordon. He’s more of a follower. Gordon is the brains in that duo.”

The guard knocked on the window. My time was up. I turned off the tape recorder and stood to leave. “I’ll start looking into your case,” I said. “Try not to give up.”

“I haven’t, but it’s not easy.” He sent me the first smile since I arrived. A quick smile with no joy behind it. It hinted at the charm that must have won over both Katie and Laura.

I walked across the parking lot to my car. A breeze had come up and leaves swirled around my feet. Clouds were moving in. It would be raining before night fall. Paul Taylor was probably in his cell with a long day ahead. He might or might not have any faith in me getting him out.

That was okay with me. I didn’t have much faith either. But it wouldn’t stop me from trying.

I
stopped at a Tim Hortons to get coffee and a bran muffin. I also wanted to check in with Dad. He was working on his laptop in bed when I reached him on the phone.

“How are you today?” I asked.

“Just fine. I’ve been looking up stories on Laura Flint. She was not on the hunting trip when her husband got shot. Doesn’t say who pulled the trigger. I intend to track the shooter down.” He sounded full of energy for the first time in a long time.

“Good.” I didn’t think the information would help with my case but it would keep Dad busy. “I’m on my way to check out the Taylor home and talk with Katie. She’s waiting for me to arrive.”

“I’ll let you know if I find anything of use.” Dad abruptly ended the call.

I tucked my phone into my pocket. I looked out the window at the rain sliding down the glass. Heavy clouds overhead made the day feel dark and depressing. I was chilled from my walk from the jail to my car. I promised myself a hot soak in the tub when I got home, whenever that was.

* * *

Rockcliffe was a rich neighbourhood east of downtown and south of the Ottawa River. It was filled with old shady trees and flowering shrubs and had the feel of an overgrown garden. There were no sidewalks; the narrow streets just wound past ten-million-dollar houses and sprawling estates.

The Taylors and Laura Flint lived next door to each other on Park Street. A row of cedar hedges separated their properties. Laura had lived in a modest—by Rockcliffe standards—two-storey house, red brick with blue shutters. The Taylors owned the larger of the two homes: grey brick, black shutters, slate roof, and three-car garage. I pulled into their circular driveway and parked. Dad’s house could fit into the garage, no problem. I had a feeling that Katie Taylor and I were not going to be soul sisters.

The maid led me into a back sunroom where Katie stood framed in the window. She was taller than my five foot nine and much more slender. She looked elegant in a silk blouse, tight black skirt, and red high heels. Her black hair fell in waves to her shoulders. Her eyes, when she turned to look at me, were an unusual jade green.

Katie glided across the floor and took my hand in both of hers. “Thank you so much for taking on Paul’s case,” she said. Even her voice was beautiful: low and husky. Paul Taylor must have been
very
lonely to cheat on this goddess.

We sat facing each other in matching blue chairs. “Can I get you some tea?” she asked.

“No, thank you. I just have a few questions.”

“Of course. Ask anything. I want to say before you start, I believe that Paul is innocent. He made a mistake sleeping with Laura. That doesn’t make him a killer.” Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

“He’s lucky to have your support.” I opened my notebook. “The maid says that the doors were locked when she arrived that morning. How could Laura have gotten in if Paul hadn’t opened the door?”

“I . . . I’m not sure.” Katie’s voice got stronger. “She must have though. Paul told me that he didn’t let her in. I believe him.”

“I understand you were in Toronto at the time of the murder.”

“I’d gone to visit my mother. She’s in a nursing home. Dementia.”

“So you would have signed in and out?”

“No. It’s not a prison. It’s a small, expensive group home. And my mother still looks after herself for the most part.” Katie’s bottom lip trembled. “I know she won’t be able to for much longer.”

“Okay.” I made a note to check into her visit. “What was Laura Flint like?”

“Oh, quiet. Sort of a mouse.” Katie leaned forward. “Not Paul’s type at all.”

I’d seen photos of a smiling Laura Flint in the paper. I’d also seen the photos of her dead. She’d been attractive enough—petite with a big chest, blue eyes, and long, straight brown hair. I inhaled Katie’s perfume. It reminded me of summer roses and ice wine. Sweet and expensive. “You weren’t angry about the affair?”

She flicked her hand in front of her face. “Of course I was, but not for long. Paul begged me to forgive him and I did. He is a good man and she took advantage. We still love each other.”

“Had you known they were sleeping together before she was killed?”

“No.”

I held my lips together tightly. I had loved someone who also cheated. And Jimmy was now married to my sister, Cheri. Not only was Katie beautiful, if she truly forgave Paul she was also a saint. There’s no way I could have done that.

“One last question,” I said. “Do you have any idea of who could have killed Laura?”

Katie didn’t answer right away. When she did, her voice was sad. “No. I can’t think of anybody.” She stared at me with her big green eyes. They were full of secrets and shadows. They seemed to be telling me that her husband
had
killed Laura Flint. Or at least that there was something more to the story. She just wasn’t going to admit it out loud.

“I’d like to see the bedroom where Laura was killed.”

“The police already . . .”

“I know, but it would help me to see the crime scene.”

“Upstairs. The door is closed at the end of the hall. I haven’t been able to bring myself to go in since they took the body away.”

I
found nothing of interest in the bedroom or Paul’s home office. I hadn’t expected to. The Ottawa Police had made a clean sweep of evidence, including papers and computers. Rosie Brown had shared copies of the reports that included photos of the crime scene.

Katie walked me to the front door when I was done my search. She stood on the landing and waited while I walked down the steps. When I turned to look up at her, she gave a brave smile and a wave. I was again struck by her effortless beauty. Even with her husband facing murder charges, she looked stunning enough to pose for a magazine cover.

I stepped around puddles on my way to look at Laura Flint’s property. I followed her driveway lined in bushes and trees toward the front door. The rain had slowed to a drizzle—just enough to make me damp and chilled. Somebody had cut Laura’s grass in the front yard and raked up the leaves from two oak trees. I spotted a house for sale sign near the road. Of course. She’d lived alone and it would be sold as part of the estate. I made a note of the real estate agent. Whoever was behind the sale might have information about Laura. Hopefully, they were a family member.

I rang the front doorbell. I jumped up and down trying to get warm while I waited. Nobody came and I tried knocking. Nothing. I thought about picking the lock but didn’t want to chance it . . . yet. I’d try the legal route first.

* * *

The hamburger and fries from my late lunch sat heavy in my stomach when Detective Johnny Shaw walked into his office at the Ottawa Police Headquarters. I’d phoned ahead and he’d agreed to see me, but not because he wanted to. The Taylor case was a hot potato, and he really had no choice.