TYLER (Blake Security Book 2) (9 page)

TYLER

              As I drove back up to my parents’ house, I saw that Sam was already there, sitting in the swing on the porch. He gave me a chin nod as I got out of the car and went in through the garage. I grabbed two beers and went back out through the front door. Handing one to Sam, I sat down next to him.

“You didn’t stay long at the reception.”

“I didn’t go. I would rather catch up with you. I see you’re still a Challenger man.”

I smiled. “Yep. It reminds me of the one Dad and I fixed up.” The one that Brandon died in. I didn’t have to say that out loud.

We sat silently for a while, lost in our own thoughts and sipping our beer. “How did it go with Ariana?” Sam asked.

I laughed. “Awkward.”

Sam nodded. “I haven’t seen her since her mother died. I was in town, so I went to the funeral with Dad and paid my respects. We didn’t really talk though. She seems to be doing alright…considering every time I see her, someone else just died.”

“Yeah, that sucks. She told me her Mom died. What happened?”

“She had an aneurysm I think Dad said. She was in a coma for a while. It was rough on the family. Her father especially.”

“Damn. They’ve all died way too young.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure.”

“Hey, who was that kid with Ariana at the funeral?”

Sam looked away for a second and then back at me and said, “I think maybe that’s something you need to ask her.”

“I guess that means it’s her kid. Is the dad still around?”

Sam shrugged. “Really, it’s Ariana’s story to tell, man.” I nodded. Sam always was a loyal friend. I couldn’t expect him to sit here and tell me personal things about Ariana.

“So what about her dad, why was he at my dad’s funeral? They’ve hated each other for years.”

He kind of chuckled and said, “There was a lot of reconciling going on. Ariana had a lot to do with it. She and your dad were close.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Close? When we dated they barely said two words to each other.”

He shrugged. “Things change man. I guess they found out they had things in common. He quit drinking, you know?”

Another wave of guilt settled in my chest. “No, I had no idea.”

Sam nodded. “He’s been sober for about ten years. From what my dad tells me, Ariana had a lot to do with that. She managed to get your dad and hers speaking again after her mom died—and since then, they’ve all been pretty close.”

“Wow, things might look the same around here, but they really have changed.”

“Are you planning on sticking around?”

“Nope.”

“What about the company? Will you sell it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about real estate or business.”

“Well, before you sell, you might want to talk to Max. He and your dad were talking about merging a while back anyways. I’m not sure he’d be able to come up with that kind of cash or collateral though.” Max, Ariana’s father, owned an investment group, and a lot of their investments were real estate and established businesses.

“What kind of cash are we talking about?” I wasn’t prepared for Sam’s answer,

“Close to a billion dollars.”

*****

              After Sam left, I was sitting in the living room deep in thought when the housekeeper came in. “Mr. Petit! I didn’t realize you were home.”

I smiled at her. I always liked Doris. She started with us as a part-time housekeeper when I was a kid. A lot of times she babysat me. Mom and Dad could have hired a nanny, but Mom always said she wanted to raise me herself. Doris was the lead housekeeper by the time I left home. “Hi Doris,” I got up and went over and kissed her cheek. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s wonderful to see you, sir. I’m so sorry about your father.”

“Thank you,” I said, clearing my throat.

“Would you like me to make you something to eat?”

“No, I’m not really hungry. I thought I might take a drive or something.”

“Okay, but you be careful out there.”

“I will,” I told her.

I turned to go and she stopped me by saying, “Sir, did you take the photos off of the mantle?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Most of the photos from the mantle are gone, as well as the frames they were in.” I looked at the fireplace mantle. There were photos there of me and Mom and all three of us on vacation. I tried to pull up a memory of what was there when I came in last night, but I was too exhausted to be observant.

“That’s weird. Who would want our family photos?” I walked over and looked at the mantle. Light dust marks outlined the places where the photos had sat.

“I’m not sure, sir. I’ll look around for them. Maybe one of the staff just moved them.” She didn’t sound convinced of that, and I got a creepy feeling, knowing someone had been in the house. I went upstairs and changed, and when I came back down, she was cooking dinner.

“Hey Doris, what pictures are missing?”

She looked like she was thinking and then said, “I’m not absolutely sure…I could just tell that there were less of them than usual.” For some reason I got the feeling she wasn’t being honest with me…but why? I let it go, for now. I spent that evening in my parents’ room, sifting through some of their things. I had been gone for so long, but as far as I could tell, things in there were untouched. My mother’s jewelry box was even still on the dresser and full of things I remembered her wearing when I was a kid. I was surprised when I left there and began wandering in and out of the other rooms. Mine had looked untouched and so did two of the guest rooms, but the third was a complete mystery to me.

The room was decorated in sports memorabilia. My dad wasn’t into sports as far as I knew. It was a rarity for him to come to one of my football games when I was in high school. But the Saints dominated the wall on one side and the Yankees on the other. There was a glass case that held signed footballs and baseballs and a cork bulletin board with tickets from all kinds of sporting events. I went over and opened the closet. It was full of jeans and t-shirts in sizes that my dad would have outgrown before I was born. While I stood there trying to figure out what the hell was going on I spotted a laptop on the desk by the window. Next to it was a big screen television mounted to the wall and an expensive looking gaming system was hooked up to that. This looked like a kid’s room…but what kid? I went over and opened the laptop. I fired it up and waited for it to load. The background picture was of the Saints quarterback. That was as much as I could see though since it was password protected.

I went through the desk. There were all kinds of office supplies in it and notebooks, but the notebooks were empty and in spite of all of the memorabilia, there was nothing in the room personal enough as to give a clue to who lived there. Another odd thing was the empty trophy case in the corner. There was dust in it in the shape of circles and rectangles. Something had been in there, but it had been cleaned out. There was a bookshelf along one wall as well. The books were mostly science fiction and true sports stories. I flipped through a few of the books, but there was no name in them that I could find. Once again, my head was spinning. I made my way downstairs to find Doris again, but what I found was a note and dinner. I went over to the pantry and opened it up. It was stocked with the usual supplies, but also a variety of cereal that I was sure my dad wouldn’t eat. There were cases of soda I knew he didn’t drink and energy drinks that unless he’d changed a whole hell of a lot, he didn’t drink.

The freezer was stocked with meat, but also frozen pizza and hot pockets and burritos. Did dad have another kid I didn’t know about? If so, where was he? I opened the fridge and took out a beer and sat down with my dinner. My head was spinning with all of the questions and I could hardly eat. I finally gave up and found my phone and called Blake Donovan.

A woman answered, “Blake Investigations, this is Lucy. How can I help you?”

“Hi Lucy. My name is Tyler Petit. I was looking for Mr. Donovan.”

“One moment please.”

A few seconds passed, and I heard, “This is Blake Donovan, I can’t get to the phone right now but please leave a message and I will return your call as soon as possible.”

He left another number in case it was an emergency. I didn’t call that one, I left a message that said, “Hey Donovan, it’s Tyler Petit. When you have a chance, give me a call, please.” I wanted to talk to him about the blue Mustang, but I was also thinking that maybe I should stay in town for a while until I got things figured out. There seemed to be a lot going on, and I had more questions by the minute. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to commit to a case or two. I didn’t need the money, but if I sat around here in this big house day in and day out, I’d lose my mind.

I didn’t get much sleep again that night, and I was in Michael Dupree’s office at ten the next day for our meeting. Things only got weirder from there.

TYLER

Michael once again told me how sorry he was about my father, and I thanked him again for calling me. I sat down and Michael pulled out a stack of documents.

              “Your father left the bulk of his assets to you along with the estate and the cars, jewelry, art and furnishings. The business will transfer to you, as well. There is a part of the will that is sealed, and your father specifically requested it not be opened at this meeting.”

              “Excuse me? Sealed? Why would he do that?”

              “He wanted what he bequeathed to one or more persons kept confidential.”

              “Why?”

              “I’m not sure, Tyler. I’m just honoring his wishes.”

              “Someone was in the house yesterday, Michael.”

              “In your father’s house?” I nodded. “How do you know?”

              “Because Doris, the housekeeper, said something about photos missing off of the mantle. She got weird and clammed up when I started questioning her. Then something else weird happened. There’s a room in the house that’s decorated like it belongs to a kid. Michael, did my dad have another kid? Is that why he doesn’t want me to find out what was in the other part of his will?”

              “All I can tell you, Tyler, is that he requested confidentiality.”

              “My father was a drunk, abusive ass most of my life. He acted as if I was more of an inconvenience to him than anything. I can’t imagine that he’d be taking in stray teenagers. If he had one living with him, it had to be a relative. As far as I know, I only have cousins on my mom’s side and they live in Alaska. Dad didn’t have any siblings, so it wouldn’t be a nephew…it doesn’t make sense, Michael.”

              “I wish I could help you, Tyler…but I have an obligation to my client.”

              I felt frustration building up inside of me. I had to let it go, for now. Michael spent the next two hours going over what assets my father had left me. I walked out of the office more confused than when I walked in. I had to stay in town for at least a few weeks to decide what to do with the house. If I sold it, I’d have to go through and pick out what I wanted to keep and then maybe have an estate sale. Keeping it was also an option, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to move back to Lafayette—and I doubted a fifteen-thousand-square-foot mini-mansion would be an easy thing to rent out. I planned on studying the paperwork Michael gave me over the next couple of days before making any big decisions. I was also trying to wrap my head around the fact that suddenly I’d gone from living off of my savings and military pension to having over a hundred million dollars in cash and assets. My head was pounding, and I knew shutting off my brain now would be next to impossible. As I was getting into my car, my phone rang. I put the pile of paperwork Michael gave me aside and answered it. It was Blake.

              “Hey! I’m sorry I missed you earlier; I was out on an assignment. We’re a little short around here while my partner is on his honeymoon in Hawaii.”

              “Lucky him,” I said. “But maybe I can help you out. I might be sticking around for a while. I was wondering if you still wanted my help.”

              “Hell yeah. Can you start today?”

              “Today?” I planned on going through the business paperwork, talking to Sam, and if I could reach her, talking to Ariana, too. Sam was in and out of town, so he might not know much, but Ariana was supposedly close to my dad. If he had a kid living with him, there was no way she didn’t know it. 

              “Well, I did have some things of my own to take care of today. What did you have in mind?”

              “The client I met in Lafayette the other night is missing her son. He’s twenty-five, so the police have just kind of blown her off. He’s been missing for two weeks. I can fax you over the file if you’d be willing to interview some people over there for me I have a list of names and addresses in there.” 

              Maybe a distraction in between taking care of my own crap wouldn’t hurt. “Sure, I can do that.” I gave him my email address and then I said, “Tell me something Blake—if you were trying to find out information about a kid, where would you start?”

              “A kid? Like how old?”

              “I wish I knew. A teenager would be my guess.”

“You have a name?”

“Nope.”

“Parents name?”

“Um…I’m not sure.”

I told him what I’d discovered at the house, and I also told him about the “confidential” part of my father’s will. When I finished he said, “You think he had another kid?”

“I have no idea, but if I have a brother out there somewhere, I’d like to know about it. The thing is when my mom was sick, he was drinking twice as much as usual and disappearing for days. He could have made a kid during that time. I’m just not sure why everyone I know would be so secretive about it.”

“School is where I’d start,” he said. “I mean, we can fingerprint at your dad’s place, but who knows who has been in and out of there since the last time you were?”

“So how would you approach the school?”

“Tell you what, I’ll send over the list and some notes and you start the interviews if you can. Meanwhile text me your dad’s name, address, phone number, and anything else that might be important and I’ll start on the school angle. I can do most of that from the office.”

“Thanks man, I appreciate it.”

“Thank you. Another trip to Lafayette was going to set me way back this week.”

“Hey, there’s one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You were being followed yesterday…but you know that already, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You okay?”

“I’m okay. I’m just waiting for her to get tired of the game and get in touch.”

“Her?”

“Yeah, long story.”

“Alright, as long as you’re good.”

After I hung up with him, I went back to the house. I searched around a little more but still couldn’t find anything personal that didn’t belong to my dad, my mom, or me. Finally giving that up for the day, I checked my email. Blake had sent the list over, and since this was my first attempt at interviewing witnesses, a comprehensive list of questions to ask. He also scanned over the file, and before I started calling to set up meetings with the witnesses, I skimmed through it.

The missing guy’s name was Elliot Rubalcava. He’s twenty-five, and he works at a bar in New Orleans. He left work one night at ten and stopped into the bar where I met Blake this week. He was seen there by several people, but once he walked out of there, he never made it home. He hasn’t been seen in two weeks. Blake’s notes say that he hasn’t used his ATM or credit cards, and there’s been no activity on his cell phone. I’m not sure why the police don’t see that as suspicious. I’m not a cop and I do.

The first person I called was a woman named Rebecca. Rebecca works as a hairstylist, and she was the woman that Elliot had a drink with the night he went missing. She answered on the first ring. “Hello, Rebecca. My name is Tyler Petit. I’m working with Blake Investigations. We’re looking into the disappearance of Elliot Rubalcava.”

“Yes, poor Elliot!”

“Poor Elliot?”

“Well, something bad must have happened, right?”

“I guess that’s what we’re trying to figure out.” Blake put a note in the case file telling me that it was better to interview people in person so that you could observe their behavior while their answering questions. “Rebecca would you have time for lunch? I’d like to talk to you about that night if you don’t mind.”

“I have my break between two and three. Do you want to meet me at Crimson Lights? I work next door at The Hungry Hair.” My stomach clenched at the sound of the bar and grill that Ariana’s family owned. I didn’t have any idea if they still owned it or not, but I told myself it was ridiculous to avoid it just in case.

“Absolutely, I’ll see you at two.” After I hung up with her, I set up appointments with two other people and left messages for the fourth and fifth on the list. I realized, as I was on my way to Crimson Lights that I’d just gone a whole two hours without giving my own problems a single thought. Maybe this job was going to be a good thing.

********

Rebecca was a big girl. She was not fat. As a matter of fact, what I could see of her body looked hard and firm. But she was over six feet tall. I’m six four and the top of her head was level with my eyes. She was wearing a pair of flat tennis shoes with cut-off jeans and a white tank top. Her long red hair was curly, and even though it seemed to be all over the place, it was quite attractive.

She met me outside the bar—and we went in together. The bar was a lot busier than it had been the night I met Blake there. We found an empty booth near the back, and the waitress took our drink orders as soon as we sat down. We both ordered an iced tea, and I realized as I was looking at the menu that I hadn’t eaten since that few bites of dinner last night and I was starving. The waitress came back with our drinks and I ordered a po-boy. Rebecca ordered some kind of chicken salad, and once the waitress was gone I said, “Rebecca, can you tell me about that night at the bar with Elliot?”

“Yeah, he called me on my lunch break that day. I always work on Saturdays and I usually see the same clients, so I remember it well. I was eating outside the salon on the picnic table when he called and asked if I wanted to meet him for a drink. He said he’d be off by ten, so we arranged to meet at eleven at Lafayette Nights.”

“Do you go there a lot?”

“Not a lot, but yeah, it’s me and Elliot’s place.”

“Are you and Elliot dating or…?”

“No, we’re just friends. Mr.…”

“Tyler.”

“Tyler, Elliot is gay.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t seen that in the file.

“He’s in the closet. He doesn’t think his folks will understand.”

“So what is the possibility that he’s just tired of living a lie and he left on his own?”

“Slim to none,” she said. “He doesn’t want to tell his mama that he’s gay, but he’s crazy about her. He’d never go off and leave without at least saying good-bye to her. That night we each had a drink, and he talked to me about this guy at work that he liked. I’m the only one that knew about him, so I was the one he called when he wanted to talk about his love life.”

The waitress came with our food then, and we both ate in silence for a few minutes. After I killed half of my sandwich, I looked at the notes Blake sent me. I didn’t see the name of any male co-workers on it, and the only two men on the list were a bartender at Lafayette Nights and his older brother. “What was this guy’s name? Do you know?”

“Oh…I’m sorry…Paul…or something like that.”

I wrote down Paul and said, “Was he working with Elliot that night?”

She nodded, and suddenly her face brightened up. “He was because Elliot was talking about how he wore this tight pair of jeans and all of the girls were looking at him, but he’d winked at Elliot twice.”

“Was this guy gay, too?”

She shrugged. “Elliot said he didn’t date men, but he got a “vibe” from him. Elliot didn’t date men either, you know? Sometimes coming out is hard.”

I nodded. I didn’t know much about it, but I thought I could imagine. “So did Elliot tell you where he was going when he left here?”

“No. I just assumed he was going home. It was late.”

“Did he talk to anyone else while you two were here?”

“No, but as we were walking out, he got a phone call. He had just walked me to my car, so when I drove off he was on the phone. He was smiling. That’s all I remember. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. That’s good. It’s really good.” I asked her a few more questions as we ate, and as soon as we were done, I walked her outside and watched her walk next door to the salon. Then I took out my phone and called Blake.

“Hey Tyler how’s it going?”

“Hey, good, I think. Did you pull phone records on Elliot from that night?”

“Yeah, hang on.” He was gone for several seconds, and when he came back he said, “He got a call from work just after one in the morning. There were two employees there at the time, both female. They both denied calling him, but the phone sits on the bar so it’s possible someone else made the call.”

“What about a male bartender?”

“There was a Paulo Mendez working that night, but he was off at midnight.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“No, I haven’t gotten that far yet. Why?” I told him what Rebecca told me. He listened until I was finished and then said, “So you think this Paulo guy called and set up a rendezvous with Elliot?”

“I think it’s a possibility. Since the phone is on the bar—if he had anything to do with Elliot going missing—I doubt that he’ll admit to making the phone call.”

“True...” Blake was quiet for a few minutes before saying, “Oh, the kid’s name is Conner Douglas.” It took my brain a minute to regroup.

“The kid? The one living with my dad?”

“He didn’t live with him. Your dad was listed on his emergency card at school though as a grandparent. There was also a Max Douglas and a mother, Ariana Douglas.” Son of a bitch! It can’t be. Why wouldn’t she tell me? Why wouldn’t someone tell me? “Hey, are you okay?” I guess I was silently in shock longer than I thought.