by Misty Simon
“That’s my girl.”
“So, anything new on the investigation front?”
“Sadly, no. I left messages but that’s about it. We’ll just have to see what shakes out. For now.”
“I’m sorry I’m not more help.”
“Please. You’re fine. Now, go pick out your apology acceptance outfit and we’ll talk more later.”
“Okay.” She still sounded a little watery, but I had a feeling it was going to be all right.
I decided not to ask her to come over and help with any other research. I had a feeling it would just be more rehashing what she should have done and what he could have done. I wasn’t up for that.
Once I had the parameters right I was able to find a few more things, a few one-star ratings for Eli’s services, but no mention about any formal complaint. That was interesting. And his brother was up for reelection this year. Maybe he and Eli fought about ending the bribes. The brother would want to make sure as many people as possible voted for him. Maybe the brother had decided the game they were playing was dangerous, and he should back off, but Eli hadn’t wanted to.
Anything was possible when I didn’t have anything concrete.
I had shut down the laptop when my phone rang again. It was Marianne.
“Anything?” I asked after the standard greetings were exchanged.
“Oh, yes, Tallie, I think you’re going to want to listen to the messages from the office. I found Eli’s voicemail password under his phone, and there are a few messages I don’t know what to do with, but others that are obviously threatening.”
“His office?”
“Yes, please. And get here fast. I want to be able to share these with you as soon as possible. I hope they might answer some of your questions, although maybe they’ll only raise more.”
I was out the door in a flash. Gina’s lights shone from her upstairs living quarters when I pulled out of the parking lot, but if my brother had decided to go apologize now, I didn’t want to intrude.
Within minutes I was at the office. No lights were on, and I didn’t see any cars. Had she left? Was she even going to show up? Was she the one who had killed him?
I didn’t believe that last one since as far as I knew she had thought he was out getting lunch, and she’d seemed genuinely shocked that he was dead. If he’d been found in the office with a pen jammed in his throat, maybe. But out at the inn when he wasn’t supposed to be there, and she hadn’t known where he’d gone? I just didn’t believe it.
Picking up my phone, I was about to call her when the light in the front office switched on. She beckoned me through the window and then stood by the door looking right and left constantly until I was inside.
It was a tad spooky when she slammed and locked the door behind me then flipped off the lights. Resolutely, I told myself to calm the heck down. I really should have reconsidered bringing Gina, though. I didn’t know if I could actually do any damage by myself, but between us I was sure we could have taken this woman down.
I would just have to rely on my instincts and that one time I took a self-defense class, if it came down to it. Which hopefully it wouldn’t.
Marianne walked behind the desk while I watched for anything weird. I kept an eye on her in case she grabbed something off the desk, like a letter opener or a stapler, with which to maim me. She did none of those things, simply hit the speaker button on the phone and dialed into the answering service. The standard woman’s voice told her which options to pick and then Marianne looked up with wide eyes when she hit two buttons to make the first message play. She pulled a notepad to her, chewing on the end of the pencil in her hand.
What could she have heard that would be so eraser-bite-worthy? People these days knew that nothing was ever completely erased, and it could always be used as evidence.
The first beep sounded. That was followed closely by a voice roaring through the phone.
“I don’t know who you think you are, but I will take you down like the pond scum you are. I want my payment back. I want my taxes lowered. You promised me when you swindled me, and now you’d better make it happen and give me my money back, or you will pay with your neck.”
That was very specific. I motioned to Marianne to give me my own paper. She tried to hand me her pencil, but I shook my head. I wanted something that hadn’t been in her mouth.
I grabbed a pen from the cup on the desk and began taking notes. The next two messages were more of the same, but these threatened his head and his crotch—that one was from a woman. No one left names, and I didn’t recognize any of the voices. That could be a problem, but these could maybe at least make Hammond look a little closer, or, really, look at all, if we could get him to listen to them.
The fourth message started out soft. “Mr. St. James, hi, I was wondering if you’d been able to find anything out? I really need the information so I can take my husband to court. I don’t like being scared. Please call me back.” She didn’t leave a number or a name, probably assuming that he’d recognize her. I wished I could.
The fifth message wasn’t soft, but it again didn’t seem to have anything to do with building permits or inspections.
“I’ve been waiting five days for the information. How can I contest the will if you don’t get back to me? I need to know about my wife’s gambling debt, or I won’t be able to keep her from inheriting. I want the money for myself and whatever I lose is coming out of your fee.”
Fee? For information? Were these all confirmation that Eli had a side business snooping while he inspected? I’d tried to make that fit in my mental picture of the guy, but it hadn’t computed. How would that work? He couldn’t target people to let him assess their homes. That usually only happened when someone wanted to sell or refinance.
The next one answered a few questions.
“Some private investigator you are. You said that you had the case nailed shut and that all the witnesses knew not to testify, and yet some guy from the hardware store came into court today and blew my whole story out of the water. I’m not paying you a dime. And I’m not recommending you to anyone. Furthermore, if you breathe a word of what you found out while you did your investigation I will hang you until you’re dead. You hear me? D-E-D!”
I couldn’t help but snicker, even though it was totally inappropriate. My guy had just been threatened and the only thing I could focus on was the fact that the caller must have missed Mrs. Buzzard’s second-grade spelling lessons.
“That’s it.” Marianne shrugged her shoulders, putting her pencil down.
I tapped the tip of my pen on the scribbles in front of me. “Are there any saved messages?”
“Nope, and these are only since Eli went missing. I think it must be a different line, maybe, because I never got a call like this from anyone.”
“Can you access the voicemails from your line?”
“No, I tried but I don’t have access.”
Okay, so we had some threats and some information but nothing to really go on. Although I did have a new avenue. If Eli had been working on the side as a private investigator, he could have crossed the wrong person who did not want a secret out. It confirmed what Mrs. Koser had been saying about Eli asking about her children.
This opened up a whole new can of worms, but maybe it would finally be one that Hammond wouldn’t turn his nose up at.
“I started looking for a new job,” Marianne said quietly, doodling on her notepad.
“How’s it going?”
“Everyone so far has said that if I have Eli’s ethics, then they have no room for me.” She shook her head.
I tried to think of anyone who might need an assistant. Unfortunately, I came up dry at the moment. “Maybe you should just leave Eli off your résumé and pretend like you just got here.”
“Wouldn’t that be dishonest? And I know how these little towns work, everyone knows everyone’s business. If they asked around they’d know that I hadn’t sent in a correct application.”
“There is that.” I fiddled with my paper, not knowing what else to do for her.
“Maybe I should just go home. It’s not better there, but at least I know what I’m dealing with. This town is pretty messed up in a lot of ways.”
I’d never thought of it like that. I guess we did have some pretty interesting characters. To someone who hadn’t grown up here a lot of the townspeople could seem downright strange. To me they were the norm.
“Don’t give up just yet. Go back to the last one and let them know you were not aware of anything he had going on. You could even tell them you didn’t know about his side business, that he kept you in the dark. Use me as a reference.” I needed her to stay around for a little bit. I couldn’t have her wandering off when she was the only one with access to the office.
“Yeah, I don’t know what I want to do.” Pulling a corner off her paper, she shrugged.
“While you’re deciding, is there a way to save these messages?” I’d thought of recording them on my phone from the speakerphone but I had a feeling Hammond would not go for that, and I didn’t want to have to defend myself again. He already thought I was crazy.
“I’ll try to figure something out.”
“Okay, just don’t erase them while you’re trying.”
“I’ll try not to.” She stuck her tongue in the corner of her lips as she hung the phone up. I didn’t have a good feeling about this, but I wanted to look around while we were in here to see if maybe he had any files. Of course, I knew all about the risks of handing over information that I hadn’t obtained by the right channels. I didn’t care at this point, though. I’d come up with creative ways to explain how I’d gotten it before, and I’d do so again if I had to.
“Are there any filing cabinets around here that you’re not supposed to go in?” I asked, prowling the office. As far as I knew it was the front room, a small bathroom, and this office. Not an expensive operation and part of a strip mall. It was still worth asking.
“There’s one in the closet over there. I think that’s it. He warned me the first day that it’s his personal information. Do you think he might have kept his private-eye things in there? Maybe that’s where he keeps all the files on these people who are calling!” Her eyes widened and her innocence was either real or a ploy to get me to believe her so she could do more bad things.
I’d experienced both kinds of people, so I wasn’t putting anything past her. She could shove me in the closet, leave, and then do nefarious things, and I wouldn’t be able to stop her. But I’d keep my eyes peeled and my back guarded. I’d also made every effort to avoid being surprised.
I really wished I had brought Gina with me, dammit.
When I found the filing cabinet tucked into a closet, I tried every drawer, and they were all locked. Of course they were. And when I asked for the key, Marianne had no idea where it might be. I guess probably on his key ring if it held the paperwork I thought it might.
I was not handy with picking locks, and honestly, I had none of those fancy tools. I didn’t want to damage anything just in case it was important—Burton or Hammond would have a fit if I tampered with stuff. But, boy, did I want in those drawers.
There was no hope for it, though. I was going to have to wait and see if the messages and the threats, along with the complaint that never made it past the shred bin, were enough for Hammond to look into Eli’s murder.
I considered asking Marianne where Eli lived and seeing if I could get in there. In the end, I decided it wouldn’t do me any good.
There were some lines drawn in hard concrete. Breaking and entering was one of those. If I thought my family was not happy about me looking into a murder that no one thought had happened, I hated to think about what their reaction would be if I actually got arrested and they had to bail me out.
“Be careful,” I said on my way out to the front of the office. Marianne followed me.
“I will. I’ll be leaving soon, once I figure out how to save the messages, then I will let you know where you can get them. Thanks for coming over, Tallie.”
“Of course, just please be safe.”
“Absolutely.” Marianne smiled. I still worried.
And worrying about her kept me from seeing the cop car parked next to mine.
* * *
“I’m not going to the station,” I told Matt. He hadn’t tried to reach for my wrists to cuff them, and he hadn’t made any moves to make me get in the car, or even follow him, yet. He just asked me nicely.
“What am I supposed to do, Tallie? I just caught you walking out of a dark office. I know for a fact you don’t have keys for that place.”
“No, I don’t, but I was in there at the invitation of the secretary who has some voicemails that I think Hammond is going to want to listen to.”
“I doubt it. Hammond doesn’t want anything from you, or haven’t you figured that out yet? He’s a hard-ass with something to prove. Any help from you isn’t even on his list. And I didn’t see anyone else. Why didn’t she walk out with you to lock the door behind you?”
“She was trying to figure out a way to save the voicemails so they could be listened to later. She should be out in a minute.” But then I remembered that her car must have been around back because it wasn’t out here with mine. It must have been somewhere since I doubted she’d walked this far. Would she answer the door if I knocked again? Or would it still be unlocked? It was worth a try.
I pulled the door to me and it opened. “See, it’s unlocked. She must still be in the office. Follow me, and maybe you can listen to the messages for yourself so you can report to Hammond that they’re worth listening to. That takes me at least one more step out of the equation.”
I was pretty pleased with that idea until I walked into Eli’s dark office. The dark office with no Marianne in sight. I flipped the light on at the wall switch and took in the pristine desk, the bare walls, and the phone on the desk. It looked as if no one had been there at all.
I hustled over to the back door, hoping that her car would still be there. Maybe she had saved the messages and was just heading out. I didn’t completely believe that, but I still wanted to check. I was pretty sure I had just been left high and dry in an office that didn’t belong to me, with no one to back up my reason for being here.
Not surprisingly, there were no cars in the back lot. Change of plans then.
Running to the file cabinet, I tried to find any hint of damage or that they had been opened. I couldn’t find anything except that when I pulled on the drawers this time they flew open with only a little tug. They were completely and utterly empty. Had they been empty before? How had Marianne gotten them open when I couldn’t? Did she really have a key and just refused to tell me? Did she take whatever was in them? The files that I thought had to do with Eli St. James’s private-eye business?
Holy crap. Matt looked at me with crossed arms as I stood in the closet with what I was sure was a horrified expression on my face.
“You want to tell me anything before I take a look in those drawers, or ask why you would be looking in them in the first place? Or how about, why you would even be here when no one else is? How did you get in?”
I frantically looked behind the cabinet and under the cabinet, then felt around the closet shelf above the cabinet, while he continued talking to me. I wanted to look out the back door again, just in case she had dropped anything on her way out. Something, anything, that would make me look better.
I had to struggle against Matt’s grip on my arm to open the door and see if there were any cars in the parking lot. Still nothing.
I shook him off. “I’m not going to try to run away, you imbecile. I’m aware how bad this looks, but I swear I didn’t do anything but meet Marianne here, and she let me in. I wouldn’t know the first thing about picking locks and especially not that industrial one on the front door.” Thank God that was true, or I would be in even deeper trouble than I could feel sucking at my knees right now.
“This doesn�
�t look good.”
I sighed and closed my eyes, turning from him so he couldn’t see. “Are you going to have to call Hammond?”
“I think so.”
This was not good.
Chapter Eleven
I did not particularly like the inside of our small jail at the back of the police station. It was more of a holding cell than a jail, but it still had bars that I would have rattled if only they’d given me a tin cup.
When asked if I wanted to call anyone before Hammond got there, I asked to see my cell phone for Marianne’s number. No surprise that she didn’t answer, but I had been hoping. That hope crashed to the floor just like the drunk guy that my cousin brought in thirty minutes later. Matt looked at me once, shook his head, and then went about his business.
I was not going to wake up Gina, or any of my family. Calling Max wouldn’t help. He was across the country, and no matter how much I wanted him here he couldn’t help at the moment. I’d just sit here until Hammond came in, explain my story, and hope that he would believe me this time. That hope was slim, I knew it. It was all I had at the moment, though. That and a plastic bottle of water.
“Not even coffee?” I asked the officer who’d been watching over me while Matt had been called out for the drunk guy. I didn’t know him well. Gary Steinman had started here about a year ago, bringing his family with him from Long Island, New York, in search of something more slow-paced with more of a community aspect. We had that in spades when people weren’t killing each other.
“Nope, sorry, no coffee. It’s against the rules, and I stay within the rules. You should have done the same thing.”
Wonderful, not only a jailer but also one with a moral compass that he was going to try to shove down my throat. “Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?”
“I’m not the one to talk to about that, that’s Hammond. I do believe he just pulled up around back.”
My palms started sweating and I wished desperately for something to calm myself. Maybe I should have at least called Gina to talk me down instead of thinking I knew what I was doing and how I would do it without any kind of help. What had I gotten myself into?