Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery Box Set

by Jamie Lee Scott

  “So what are you worried about? She breached the agreement already. Besides, she’s dead.”

  “Not soon enough.” She stood and looked around outside the booth, as if there were spies. Nearly whispering, she said, “My customers were glad to be done with her. She was vile and rude. My business actually did better after I fired her. And thank goodness, because she did her best to take me to the cleaners.”

  “Really, how?” Maybe I could learn something that would help Anthony.

  “It’s convoluted. Suffice it to say, I didn’t owe her shit, but she saw it differently.” I could hear the venom in her voice.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “But she also tried to bleed me dry with attorney’s fees.” Again she looked around. “You see, she had a lawyer on contingency, so she only pays when she settles. She knew it wasn’t that way for the defendant, so she asked for frivolous paperwork, and made claims of unpaid commissions, so my attorney had to put in about forty hours worth of work in at $400 an hour.”

  “Oh shit.” I caught myself. “I’m sorry. I just mean, she knew she was draining your wallet. She just made the extra work, even if she knew the amount she’d settle for?”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Jane laughed bitterly. “But in my case, what she didn’t know was that the attorney in the high-priced law firm was my nephew. He didn’t charge me a penny.”

  I laughed. “Oh, you’re good. Too bad the others she’s sued don’t have lawyers for relatives.”

  “I can’t tell you what the settlement was, but I can tell you, my total attorney’s fees would have been over thirty thousand.” She shook her head.

  “I can’t imagine what that would do to a small business.” I knew the legal fees were killing Anthony.

  “I’m one of the lucky ones. Even though she did her best to badmouth me, and made everyone think I was trying to get away with not paying what I owed. Have you talked to Goldy Newsome? There was no settlement there.”

  “Really, Goldy didn’t settle?” I had no idea who Goldy was, but I played along.

  “They went to court. Goldy, whose husband was in the hospital getting a kidney transplant, said, ‘Yo bitch, see you in court.’ And so they went to court.”

  “What happened?”

  Jane was standing now, animated. I could tell she hated Marina as much as Anthony did.

  “Goldy won, though it was a shallow victory. She didn’t have to pay Marina a penny, and Marina had to pay the court costs.”

  “I’d say that’s a pretty nice victory.” Hell, Marina had to put out the time and effort, and didn’t get a penny.

  “Unless you realize that the judge didn’t award Goldy her legal fees. She had to take out a second mortgage her house to pay her attorney, and she ended up divorced because of it. The greedy bitch ruined Goldy’s life.”

  I couldn’t even imagine the toll a lawsuit and court trial would take on a family, especially a family with health issues already.

  Jane continued, “She’s here, you know. Goldy. She has a booth just two aisles over.”

  “What about Marina’s husband?”

  “Are you kidding me? Marina being dead won’t help anyone with a pending suit. That Willard is just the male version of Marina. Did you see he’s still doing the show? He’s in there chatting and schmoozing just like Marina is out of town, instead of dead. It’s a corporation, and as long as they are both alive, well, I just shouldn’t say any more.”

  “I understand. I didn’t know that anyone disliked Willard.” Ah, a new tangle in this web.

  “You should talk to anyone who’s ever done business with him. He’s like a used car salesman, slimy and crooked.” She sighed. “You know, until I saw them here, I hadn’t thought of them in a long time. I hope Marina’s death was a long, slow, painful one.”

  I thought I’d throw out a thought. “So do you think someone could have killed Marina?”

  She laughed loud. “Oh, sure. Hell, I’d have done it if I’d had the opportunity.”

  Well, okay then. “Jane, I hope you have a great show. It was good talking to you.”

  “So do you think someone killed her? Are the police investigating?” It seemed like Jane may have wanted to take her words back.

  “I’m just nosing around. I have no idea, and I haven’t heard anything from the police. It’s just that I was the one who found her.” I waved and walked away.

  I thought I’d leave her with something to think about.

  I had planned to talk to one of Marina’s other former manufacturers, but decided to go straight to Goldy instead.

  Goldy Newsome was as far from gold as possible. She was about five feet tall with short, choppy black hair, and olive skin. Her eyes must have been a dark brown, but looked black. She was dressed in a burgundy shift dress that barely covered her ass, and pink ballet slippers. Not shoes that were made to look like ballet slippers, but the real thing. Both arms had sleeves of tattoos. I couldn’t make out the artwork without staring, but I did think she’d be a perfect match for my buddy, Sebastian.

  Sebastian was a suspect from the Bailey murder, but he turned out to be just a bit odd, not guilty.

  “Hi, Goldy. I’m--”

  “I know who you are. Jane just called me,” she snapped.

  “Okay, well, I’d like to talk to you about Marina Goldstein.” I trod carefully.

  “Nope.” She adjusted the custom boots along the wall of her booth.

  “But you haven’t even heard what I want to talk about.” Jane could have warned me about this woman. Jeez.

  “The woman is dead. I don’t care about her, or her death. I never wanted to hear her name again. And yet, here you are…” She picked up a boot and bent the sole back and forth.

  “Just curious, did you know she was going to be here?” I could at least try to get something out of her.

  “I plead the Fifth.” She shoved the boot back into place.

  “I know what she did to you.”

  Goldy turned around to look at me and got right in my face. “No, you don’t. You have no idea what she did to me. It happened less than a year ago, and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of something horrific I’d like to do to her. I guess I can stop, now that she’d dead. But, do you know how that can tear a person up inside?”

  I didn’t know, but I was beginning to see. Goldy looked like her insides were shredded. “So did you follow through, since she was here, and the opportunity presented itself?”

  “Are you kidding me? With our past, I’d be the main suspect.”

  “Do you think someone killed her?”

  “I don’t know, but if someone did, it was probably someone close to her. Did you know she was my best friend? We ate dinner at each other’s houses. My son played with her nephew when they were kids. Hell, my son would have been the best man at Zack’s wedding if Marina hadn’t ruined that too.” Spent, Goldy leaned against the wall.

  57

  This just kept getting better and better. I kept thinking of how Zack had defended his aunt. A good defense is the best offense? Hell, I didn’t know, but I did know that Zack now had a motive. I didn’t ask Goldy to elaborate because I thought she may just be sending me off on a wild goose chase. Something about her demeanor put me off. If pressed, I’d say she was capable of killing Marina. Something in her eyes told me she was just cold enough to do it.

  “Marina hated Zack’s fiancée, Karen. She was furious that Zack was going to marry her and work for her dad. Karen wasn’t interested in the repping business, and that really pissed Marina off.”

  “I didn’t know being interested in your spouse’s business was a marriage requirement.”

  “It wasn’t so much that; it was the fact that she was losing control. Zack had already quit working for her, and was training at Karen’s father’s firm. Marina had planned for Zack to take over the business, so she and Willard could work fewer hours. Marina didn’t have any kids of her own, and Willard’s kids despised h
er.”

  “She wasn’t Willard’s first wife?” Interesting tidbit.

  “Nope. Willard’s previous wife died in a car accident. Ran her car off an embankment.” Goldy said it so matter of fact.

  “How long had he and Marina been married?” I’d just assumed they’d been together forever.

  “I’m not exactly sure, but I think it’s about ten or fifteen years.” She’d stopped fiddling with the boots.

  “Marina called me one night, pissed out of her head on martinis. Nothing new; she got drunk nearly every night. She wasn’t a happy woman. She may have had money, but she was proof that it didn’t buy happiness.”

  “Maybe that’s part of the reason she was the way she was. Misery loves company and all.”

  “Cliché, but true.”

  “So she called you…”

  “We talked all the time. There were no boundaries with Marina. She’d call whenever she felt like it.” Goldy reached behind her desk and pulled out a satchel. She grabbed a pack of gum. “Want one?”

  I shook my head.

  Goldy chewed and spoke. “This particular night she was on a rampage about Zack’s wedding. He’d quit working for her the week before, and she was livid. Who was going to do all of her grunt work?”

  Get on with it!

  “She decided to plan a bachelor party for him. Stupid Zack, he should have known better,” Goldy laughed.

  I didn’t like where this was going. “Oh goodness. Did she do it?”

  “Huge party. Lots of alcohol and drugs. Yes, I said drugs. Knowing Zack would never do anything illegal, she slipped some marijuana into the dessert cake, which also happened to be the housing for a stripper.”

  I was pretty sure I could see where this was going, but I let her keep talking.

  “By the end of the night, Marina had pretty much ruined any wedding plans. She had video of a trashed Zack having sex with the stripper, and the next morning, Zack conveniently failed his drug test for the firm Karen’s dad ran.”

  I was holding my breath. “How long ago was this?”

  “Right before she sued me.”

  Now that I thought about it, Zack was sure in a hurry to disappear when Nick came to our table at the coffee place. What did that boy have to hide?

  I beelined it back to Marina’s booth to see if I could have a chat with Zack, but along the way I saw Willard heading towards the elevators, so I detoured. If Willard wasn’t in the booth, then Zack would be running it and wouldn’t have time to talk. So I figured I’d just see what Willard was up to, and I rushed to the elevator.

  I took a chance that he wouldn’t put two and two together and realize who I was. I thrust my hand out and caught the door just before it closed.

  Out of breath and looking down, I said, “Lobby, please.”

  Willard smiled. He didn’t move to push the button and I realized the “L” was already lit up on the panel. If he recognized me, he didn’t indicate as much.

  I leaned back against the wall and waited. In front of me a small, roundish woman dialed a number on her cell, then shook the phone and tried dialing again. Next to her, an older gentleman said, “Can’t that wait until we are out of the elevator?”

  The woman scowled at him. “Fine.” She dropped her hand to her side, but didn’t put the phone away.

  “What did you ever do before cell phones?” the gentleman said.

  The woman smiled. “It’s a blessing and a curse, I guess,” she said, and put her hand in his.

  I smiled. Someday I hoped to have that kind of friendship with my spouse.

  I glanced over at Willard, who stared at the floor. He obviously didn’t want any kind of conversation with anyone. And since he wasn’t looking up, I scanned him a bit closer.

  His hair was more salt than pepper, and he kept it cropped short. The gel slicking the top reminded me of a used car salesman: slick and slimy, Jane had said. He wore leather loafers, sans tassels, and dark gray slacks. I thought the gray was a poor choice to go with the brown shirt he wore, but who was I to judge fashion?

  As I was taking in his slight build and rounded belly, he looked up at me. I shifted my gaze to the panel, which indicated we’d reached the lobby level, and then looked at the doors.

  Willard seemed to be in a hurry, stepping forward and cutting off the woman and her husband. I lingered back, and felt it was only polite to let them exit before me.

  A tall woman, dressed in a floor-length black dress, held the doors, letting everyone off, and escorted her party into the elevator.

  “Thanks,” I said. As I exited, I watched Willard walk towards the Moscone West Convention Center doors.

  I stayed back a bit to be sure Willard was exiting the building. He was. I hurried to the doors and watched to see which direction he went. As he headed up 4th Street, I pushed open the door and watched for Willard’s head above the throngs of people.

  He crossed Minna Street, walking against the one-way traffic and continued up 4th. His strides were long and fast, and I had to hustle to keep up. At Mission Street, I hung back a bit as he waited for the light. I let him get halfway through the intersection before starting across the street myself.

  After about another block, his pace slowed. He didn’t seem nervous, or stealthy, just in a hurry. Not once did I see him look around. He stared ahead, focused on his destination.

  As it turned out, his destination was a hotel, a quaint hotel with Old World charm. The hotel’s logo had a seagull at the top of the M, and as I approached the black awning over the main doors, something akin to wings fluttered in my stomach.

  I tried to hang back, but I wanted to see where Willard was going, so I entered way too quickly behind him. As I stepped through the doorway, I was transported back to another time.

  The entry and reception area were painted in a cream color with ornate white crown moldings on the twenty-foot high ceilings. A yellowy cream marble spanned the floor, and the bright room was offset with dark wood accents on the walls and banister.

  I nearly tripped over the bellhop’s luggage cart as I was taking in the view. As I righted myself, I looked up and saw Becky. I wasn’t surprised that she’d be staying here, as it was fairly inexpensive for San Francisco and heck, it’s within walking distance from the convention center. I wish we were staying this close. Then again, this hotel had smallish rooms, and for the lower prices, there was a shared bathroom. Not that this was bad, as I’ve stayed at my share of bed and breakfasts with a shared bathroom, but I just couldn’t see Charles and Anthony fitting in well in this environment. They needed their amenities.

  What I didn’t expect to see was Becky taking Willard by the hand as they climbed the stairs. I looked down, not wanting to be seen. Willard may not have recognized me, but Becky surely would.

  Somehow, I didn’t see Willard and Marina staying in a place like this. But what did I know? Maybe Marina skimped on accommodations in order to afford to eat well, but somehow I expected she wanted the best of both worlds.

  I decided not to follow them down the hall, and instead stopped at the reception desk. I waited in line, like a good girl, but I stood a bit closer than I normally would have to the customer being checked in, hoping it’d make him uncomfortable, so he’d hurry up.

  Would I be able to find out what room Becky was in? What the hell was going on with Willard and Becky, anyway?

  “Can I help you?” The voice didn’t register with me at first because I was eavesdropping. Again, less patiently, “Ma’am, may I help you?”

  I looked up and saw that one of the receptionists was talking to me. Flustered at looking nosy, I said, “Who, me? Sorry.” I walked to where the girl stood at her computer.

  “Checking in?” She had a light and airy voice that sounded as if she were speaking to a stupid child.

  “Oh, no, I’m looking for my friend Becky…” Oh, what the hell was her last name? I racked my brain. “…um, Becky, Baker. She’s staying here.”

  The girl eyed me suspiciously
and typed into her computer. “Becky Baker, yes, I have it here. Would you like me to call the room for you?”

  “Sure.” I leaned forward, watching as she dialed a room number. “Or you could just give me her room number.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t give out room numbers.”

  She’d already dialed the number, and was waiting while she spoke to me. I just shook my head and walked away. “Never mind. I’ll just wait in the restaurant. Thanks.”

  I was sure she had dialed room 233, and I’d soon find out. By the time I walked away from the counter, at least a dozen other people were standing in the registration line.

  The age of the building showed in the narrow hallways. The chartreuse color on the lower walls jumped out at me, as it seemed incongruous with the creams and subtle colors of the lobby. If I was packing an extra twenty pounds, my hips would have bounced off the walls as I walked.

  I stopped for a moment, watching as Willard opened a hotel room door, and Becky walked in. Willard looked down the hallway and I spun toward a door as if to open it. From the corner of my eye, I saw him go inside the room.

  I think I understood what Zack meant when he said Becky was doing more than her job.

  When I approached the room, I could hear voices, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  Suddenly Becky yelled, “What? You’re kidding me!”

  There were some muffled noises, which I was pretty sure was Willard consoling Becky. I jumped when I felt, more than heard, something, or someone, slam up against the hotel door. I looked down the hallway, both ways to be sure I was still alone, and stood a little closer to the door.

  In between humping and grunts I heard Willard say, “Be patient, baby, soon enough… oh, baby, not soon enough. Yeah, just like that.”

  What the hell? Since I didn’t hear any words coming from Becky, I suspected she had her mouth full. Another bang against the door, and my heart was racing. Usually at about this moment, I would get my camera out and take pictures for the client’s file, but I didn’t have a client, so I just kept listening. I blushed at the words and noises as Willard finally came.