Twisted: A Tracy Turner Murder Mystery Novel (The Tracy Turner Mystery Series Book 1) (8 page)

“Mrs. Walters, Katherine Walters.”

“Mrs. Walters let me escort you back to your room.” I picked up her bag and she grabbed it from me holding it against her chest. Ignoring her stare, I handed over her earring that she had left on the table. She nodded and smiled.

“I don’t know what happened,” she said. Her voice was breathy, but polite. She turned to the waiter and glared. “Who is that man? I have never seen such incomp…”

“Mrs. Walters, I’ll have a therapist from our salon come down to your room and do your hair, with our compliments of course.”

“Thank you, that’s so nice of you, dear. Please call me Katherine.”

I turned toward the waiter and shot him a wink and mouthed, “Thank you, I owe you one.” He turned his shoulders up and threw his hands into the air in an exasperated shrug but was probably glad I had rescued him from the situation.

I led Katherine back to her room. She calmed down as we walked together. I waited till she caught her breath and stopped trembling.

“Mrs. Walters, I mean Katherine, are you Frank Walters wife?” I asked. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I heard about this morning’s tragedy.”

“I’m not. In fact, I was celebrating,” she said with a light toss of her sauce-drenched hair.

“I’m sorry?”

“Frank and I were estranged.”

“Yes, I think I heard about that.”

“We were finalizing the divorce and the bloodsucker wanted to take away my business from me. The one I built with my father while he gallivanted across the country and screwed anything and everything that he came across. The man was absolutely out of control and I’m glad he is gone.” Her tone was deadpan, almost matter-of-fact and it caught me off guard.

“You know, young lady…”

“Tracy, call me Tracy.”

“Tracy, be careful with who you decide to spend your life with. A man can make your life a living hell. Take it from me, twenty-six years of a life wasted. No woman deserves a man who does not give a damn. At least he never raised his hand to me,” she said. “Women today are so much smarter. Back in those days we had no choice, we just stuck it out. My family would have been horrified if I divorced Frank back then, but I couldn’t take it anymore. Do you know what happened at the end?”

“I heard that he kissed a bridesmaid at your niece’s wedding?”

“Hell that was the least of my worries. The truth was that he was doing the downward-facing dog with Gina Fey.” She nodded her head from side to side and burst out in a fit of hysterical laughter.

“Sorry, Gina?”

“Gina, Gina, Gina. The woman was supposed to be our yoga instructor, our therapist. Between you and me, I’m sure it was Gina who killed him.” She lowered her voice and looked around the desolate corridor. “She was eyeing the settlement, you see. He was really taken by that one. He even had his insurance policy changed so she would be the sole beneficiary.”

“What were you doing at the time Frank… you know…?”

“Are you playing at detective, young lady?” she demanded with a laugh. “As I told the police, I had an la carte breakfast: buckwheat pancake with grilled pear, chocolate fudge sauce, and hazelnuts. Erico gave me a double serving of that scrumptious whiskey maple syrup.” She paused and added, “There’s nothing like a sweet start to your day and what a day it has been.” She looked ahead, sighed, and smiled wistfully. “It was the same breakfast Frank and I shared when he first brought me for a golf tournament all those years ago. He was a great golf player back then, and he swept me off my feet. Now I wonder what I ever saw in him. I still love this place though.” She sighed again. “It has only grown lovelier with age. I wish that I could have said the same about our marriage.”

“Did you know he had a gambling problem?” I asked.

“I know he’d play a game or two on occasion. I didn’t think he had a problem. Wouldn’t surprise me though… His father was the same. Nothing surprises me about him anymore.” She shrugged. With a deep bellowing sigh, she said, “I got to know that he has been siphoning money from the family trust for ages. He had a secret account in the Bahamas. Two can play at PI games, you know. Anyway, now it’s all over. I’m free.”

She turned toward the door with the number 666 etched on a gold-plated plaque. “Here we are, Tracy dear. Thank you, you’ve been so kind,” she said.

“It was my pleasure.” I paused. “I was wondering…” I flicked through the photos that I carried in my laptop. I picked the one of Katherine and the white-haired man.

“Yes, dear?”

“Katherine, may I ask who this is with you in the photograph?”

Her face turned pale and then beetroot red.

“Wh-where did you get that? Who are you? Why are you asking me these questions?” She shrieked and waggled her arms. With one quick age-defying movement, she pushed me toward the door.

“I… I…”

“If you bother me again, you… you’ll be sorry.” She stared at the name tag on my shirt. “Do I make myself clear?” she asked, her voice seething.

“Crystal,” I said to the closed door.

~T~

Nat.

~T~

The ringing of my telephone startled me as I sat at my desk. It was Clara Johnson, Maxwell’s PA, with a request that I should report to his office at once. I popped my half-eaten peanut butter sandwich back into the brown paper bag and headed for the elevator.

Maxwell’s office was on the top floor of the main building which was twenty-four stories. Clara showed me into the almost semicircular room. Its curved perimeter of glass maximized the room’s breathtaking views. The mid-point of the curve overlooked the resort’s private coved beach, which was surrounded by the Heinz reserve. A majority of the properties in the vicinity belonged to the Henderson estate, much of the rest to the state.

A smattering of luxury yachts and smaller sailboats dotted the smooth sheet of blue ocean that stretched toward the hazy horizon. Families, couples, and solitary travelers reveled on the soft white sand and the scorching heat.

A couple of motorboats with the words
Regency Resort Security
in dark blue darted across the water close to the shore. They provided an assurance of the resort’s promise of safety and privacy it offered to its A-list clientele. The security personnel surveyed the coast for the paparazzi and other rogue elements that could disturb the peace.

The noiseless air conditioning in the room created a cool respite from the glaring heat of the day. With a wave of her arm, Clara directed me to the end of the room to one of three black leather chairs sitting against a mahogany table. I caught my reflection in the polished tabletop and realized that the goings on of the day had left me looking an absolute mess. Scowling at my image, I used my palms to smooth the hair that had come away from my ponytail as best as I could.

I faced the back of what I assumed to be Maxwell’s chair. It was upholstered in black leather with sleek and shiny dark brown wooden arms. I sank deeper into my own cloud of comfort when the chair in front of me swiveled around. Millie sat in her son’s chair across from me. The old lady cut a tiny form in the massive chair, but her presence filled the room. Her mouth was drawn in a straight line, and my smile didn’t stir a response. I sat up in my chair.

“Tracy, thank you for coming,” she said as if speaking to a stranger. Looking up at Clara, she said, “Thank you, Clara, you may go.” She turned toward me. “Katherine Walters telephoned demanding that she speak to Maxwell. She was very unhappy, Tracy. She was extremely irritated and accused the resort of spying on her private affairs. Can you please explain what happened?”

I gulped back the knot in my throat and told Millie about what had taken place. I told her about how nonchalant Katherine was regarding Frank’s death and her apparent joy that he was gone. Millie calmed down a little but was not completely convinced.

“She was very open about it, and that’s what was puzzling,” I said. “What really upset her was seeing that photograph,” I concluded.

“I see, but she didn’t say anything incriminating.” She took the photograph from me and reached for her spectacles. Propping them on her nose, she examined the photo. “It seems that it was not only Frank who was having an affair. Katherine, herself, seems to be a little too cozy in this photo. So, you are saying that this was found in Frank’s briefcase?”

“Well, the briefcase was empty according to this shot. The contents had been spilled out. Going by this photo, it’s safe to say that this may have been in Frank’s briefcase.”

“Who is the man with her?”

“I’ve got no idea. He looks so familiar. As I said, Katherine was not forthcoming when I questioned her. When I showed her that picture it drove her crazy. I think that this tells us much more than the fact that she had her own skeletons.”

“What does not make sense to me is why she didn’t try to hide that she was glad to see the back of Frank,” said Millie.

“Also, she had dropped an earring this morning in Frank’s bedroom. Catalina had found it and gave it to the police.” My voice was high-pitched, but Millie remained calm.

Millie tapped on the intercom. “Clara, get me Erico Peres.” She had a quick word with the head waiter at On the Rocks Bar and Grill and redirected her attention to me. “I spoke to Erico. Katherine’s story checks out. She did have breakfast at around half past seven, the time Frank was killed, but she was alone. The resort is almost fully occupied, and the restaurant can be quite busy at that time of the morning. She could have always slipped away and done the deed. I’ll ask Brett to pull up the CCTV visuals.”

“That’s a good idea,” I said and wondered if the police had bothered to review the security footage.

“I also had a visitor earlier on today, Tracy. She claimed to be Frank’s fiancée.” Millie raised her eyebrows.

“Fiancée? His divorce was not finalized yet, but he had a fiancée? The guy sure is… was a fast mover.”

Millie laughed. “Interestingly, she had come to the resort late last night. Room 426. She was beside herself when she saw me.”

“You mean Gina Fey?”

“Yes, that was her name.”

“Katherine did mention her. She accused her of killing Frank. Something about an insurance settlement.”

“But why were they in separate rooms? It’s not like Katherine didn’t know about them.”

“For all of Frank’s infidelities, there was no real hard evidence of it. He was probably trying to keep it that way.”

Millie raised her eyebrows again. She looked impressed.