by Nora Kane
She came up behind the Ford and was glad to see it was indeed Cassandra sitting behind the wheel. Otherwise, she would have wasted her time and put a scare into the poor clerk for no reason. Margot walked up and tapped on Cassandra’s window. When Cassandra looked over at her she said, “Get out of the car.”
Cassandra lowered her window, “What if I don’t want to?”
Margot laughed and shook her head before she said, “You know that you're full of shit, don’t you?”
“Actually, I don’t think I’m full of shit at all.”
“Yes, you do. Either that or really fucking dumb,” Margot said as she leaned down so she was looking Cassandra in the eye. “If you really thought I was some hitwoman they called Viuda Negra and you had half a brain, you’d be pissing your pants right now. You actually seem like you have half a brain, so I’m thinking you don’t really think I’m anything more than what I really am, which is a private detective who got involved with some nasty people doing some nasty shit.”
Cassandra didn’t really have an answer for that.
“You’re going to quit following me, Cassie. I’m not your story anymore.”
“Censoring the press? Not a big believer in free speech, are you?”
“Not when that speech is slandering me and making people like Harry Lee mad at me. Though, right now, he might be a little bit more upset at you than me. When he asks you to leave him off your show, he’s not going to ask nearly as nicely as I am.”
“You’re not being very nice.”
“Yeah, I am. Trust me.”
“I’m just trying to get a story out there.”
“Well, just make it about somebody else.”
“Like Phoebe Masterson, perhaps?”
“Maybe, pick a different one.”
“So, you are working on that?”
“No comment.”
“You know, if you want me to report what’s really going on instead of speculation, you could give me something. That way, I wouldn’t have to follow you around.”
“Sorry, I don’t work that way.”
“It’d make it easier on both of us if you did.”
“No, it’d make it easier on you. Keeping things confidential is part of my job.”
“And telling people things is mine.”
“Then we’re going to have to agree to disagree. You know what else we’re going to agree on?”
“What’s that?”
“You’re going to stop following me.”
“I am?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m just following the story.”
“Follow the story all you want, just don’t follow me, got it?”
“I feel like I’m being threatened.”
“No, not yet. Right now, I’m asking nicely.”
“Okay, what if you gave me an interview?”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, not about a current case or anything, just about the stuff from the past.”
“You want to talk to me or Viuda Negra?”
“You.”
“Okay, but the following stops. And I’m kind of busy right now.”
“No problem. Actually, I’m good for content at the moment. There’s a lot going on. Do you still have my card?”
“You didn’t give one to me.”
Cassandra gave Margot a card and said, “Call me when you’re ready.
Margot nodded and then added, “I’m going to need you to drive away first.”
“I said I wasn’t going to follow you anymore.”
“Then there’s no reason for you not to drive away, is there?”
“Alright, have it your way. I’ll be waiting for your call.”
Margot watched Cassandra drive away. When she was out of sight she walked back to her car.
Chapter 7
It didn’t seem like a lot of Margot’s plans paid off, but this one did. She knew where Derek Helms worked, so she took a chance he would be working on a Saturday and he’d go out for lunch.
Both chances worked out. Even with Cassandra slowing her up, she made it there just before Helms walked out. Having him on foot made it that much easier since she wouldn’t be losing him in traffic. Even better, he picked up food at a taco shop with a patio and decided to eat out there.
“Derek Helms?” Margot asked the balding man sitting down to eat a Carne Asada burrito. The first thing she thought when she saw his picture was that he looked too old for Rita. He may have thought so as well. The gold earring he wore seemed out of place with the rest of him. Margot could have been wrong, but it looked like an attempt to look younger.
He glanced up and looked suspicious, rightfully so.
“If I told you no, would you believe me?”
“No,” Margot said as she sat down in front of him.
“If you’re a reporter, all you’re going to do is watch me eat. I’ve got nothing to say.”
Margot retrieved her Shaw Detective Agency card, and her Private Investigators license and put them on the table where Helms could see them.
“Are you working with Phoebe’s defense team?”
Margot took note of the fact he said ‘Phoebe’s’ with no trace of animosity. If he thought she committed the crime, he didn’t seem mad at her about it.
“If I say yes, are you going to refuse to talk to me?”
“No, so you work weekends too?”
“When the job requires it.”
“Does this qualify? I don’t think she’s even been indicted yet.”
Margot shrugged and told him, “You know the first forty-eight hours in a murder case are the most important and I’m already over forty-eight hours behind.”
“But you’re the defense.”
“It’s still a murder case.”
“I suppose that’s a fair point. I’m just not sure what I can tell you. I had no idea my wife was seeing Tim. If you're wondering, my whereabouts that night are well documented.”
She also noted there wasn’t a trace of sadness in his voice when he said, ‘my wife.’ Margot thought these two reactions were odd, but that didn’t mean much. People react to tragedy differently; there isn’t really a right or wrong way. It still made her wonder about Mr. Helms though.
“I was more interested in your business relationship with Mr. Masterson.”
“Well, that’s easy. We didn’t have one.”
“You used to, though.”
“Once upon a time.”
“You had a falling out.”
“I guess you could call it that.”
“What would you call it?”
“I’d say I didn’t want to use my business as a money-laundering operation for mobsters.”
“So you dissolved the partnership?”
“I sold him my share and started over without him. Turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made. Tim had trouble turning a profit even with free money rolling in.”
“That’s the problem with laundering money, you don’t get to keep it.”
“Yeah, though I guess none of that matters now.”
“It might.”
“You think mobsters killed Tim because he was screwing my wife?”
“Unlikely.”
Helms nodded as he reached the conclusion Margot was considering. “I suppose, if somehow Phoebe didn’t do it, an angry mobster could have killed him, but I wouldn’t know anything about that. I don’t even know if he was still in business with them.”
“If you had to guess? Since you were both still working in the same field...”
“Would I notice if things looked off?”
“Something like that.”
“I would, but I didn’t. That could be because Tim was working with crooks from day one, so it just looked normal. I’d say he was, but that’s just a guess.”
“But an educated one.”
“I suppose.”
Helms ate some more burrito and then added, “I don’t know if some crook killing Rita instead of Pho
ebe makes it better or worse. Maybe worse since she didn’t have anything to do with Tim’s shady business. It’d make it hard to be mad at her if she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Are you mad at her?”
“Sometimes. Other times, I’m unbearably sad. Others, it’s like I am now. I don’t know what to think.”
“I think that’s normal.”
“Yeah, but what would you know about it?”
“More than I want to. My mother was murdered.”
“No kidding? I’m sorry to hear that. Did they catch the killer?”
“They did,” Margot told him, leaving out the part where it was her father who killed her.
“Did it help?”
“Not really. Though I guess it didn’t hurt. If he’d never been caught, I think it might have hurt more.”
“Yet you’re working for Phoebe’s defense.”
“Yeah, well, if she did it, nothing I do is going to matter. If she didn’t, putting her away won’t do anyone any good.”
“It’d be nice to put someone away, though I agree it’d be better if it was the person who committed the crime. I suppose it doesn’t matter in the end. Rita’s dead either way.”
“Who was the mobster?”
“I’d rather not say, especially in light of what happened to Tim and Rita.”
“I can find out anyway, you’d just be saving me some time and the headache of digging through Tim’s records. I’m not going to tell them who told me. Discretion is a big part of my profession.”
“Sounds like some sort of advertising slogan.”
“Maybe it should be. That doesn’t make it less true.”
Helms considered this for a long second before saying, “A punk by the name of Harry Lee. From what I understand, he made his money in heroin.”
When Margot didn’t say anything, Helms added, “You don’t look surprised.”
“I’m not.”
“I’d be careful with that guy. He didn’t get where he is by being nice.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Margot was headed for her car when she spotted Cassandra Cole standing on the sidewalk next to Margot’s Prius.
Cassandra held up her hands like she was being arrested as she said, “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Really? Because it looks like you’re following me.”
Cassandra pointed over Margot’s shoulder at Derek Helms. “I was actually following him. The Masterson hot tub massacre is kind of a big story.”
“I noticed.”
“You’re working for Phoebe Masterson, aren’t you? Come on, just confirm it. It’s not like a secret or something.”
“Who I work for is none of your business.”
“I’ll take that as a yes, unless you’re working on behalf of your pal Harry Lee.”
“What does Harry Lee have to do with all this?” Margot asked her.
“I think you know. Word is, he wasn’t happy about the impending divorce.”
“Word from who?” Margot asked. Harry knowing about the divorce was news to her.
“I’d say a girl needs to protect her sources, but since Phoebe made a scene over the oyster bar by the pier, I don’t think I need to.”
“You are talking about the lighthouse?”
“Yeah, the fancy place next to Lefty’s Bar and Grill.”
“When did this happen?”
“What? I’m doing your legwork now?”
“Cooperate with me and maybe I cooperate with you.”
“Maybe?”
“I already agreed to an interview.”
“Okay, it was a week ago. Word gets around this town fast.”
“You know what she said?”
“Something about knowing where the bodies were buried.”
Margot shook her head and looked at her watch, she could probably get to The Lighthouse in time for the shift change and find someone who heard Phoebe’s rant firsthand.
“See you later Cassandra,” Margot said as she went around her and got in her car.
Margot drove off thinking, Phoebe lied to me again.
Chapter 8
For the second time today, Margot had good timing. She arrived after the lunch crowd left and before the dinner crowd showed up. Since it was a Saturday, there was still a smattering of customers, but the bar was empty, and the bartender was keeping himself busy washing glasses.
“Can I get you something?” he asked as he abandoned the glasses.
Margot ordered a light beer even though she was working—again, her exception for getting information from bartenders came into action. Light beer was a good choice since it was fairly cheap, she didn’t like it very much so it would be easy not to drink it, and even if she did, the alcohol content was low.
She put down a twenty, said, “Keep the change.”
“Thanks.”
“Were you here last Saturday?”
He smiled. “Is this about the Masterson Hot Tub Massacre thing?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Seems to be a popular subject. A reporter was here asking about it.”
“I’m guessing the police have been by as well.”
“No, just the reporter.”
“Cassandra?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. I might be on her show. Have you seen it?”
“I have.”
“You kind of look like that hitman chick she profiled, something in Spanish.”
“Huh, I guess I’ll have to watch that one,” Margot said as she gave him one of her cards.
While he read it, she said, “You never told me if you were here last Saturday.”
“Sorry, I was. It was early, not this early but early enough not many people were here and even less were ordering drinks. I saw the whole thing.”
“So, what happened?”