The Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 7)

by Jennifer L. Jennings

  “Gail never mentioned anything like that to me at the funeral.”

  “It’s possible that Gail hadn’t noticed the flirting. At any rate, Kevin Haas, her ex, didn’t mention it to me either. So, maybe he lied, or maybe he really didn’t notice.”

  After a short pause, Sue-Ellen said, “Do you plan to talk to his wife about it? Do you know her name?”

  “Yes, her name is Nina. And, I do plan on talking to her at some point, preferably not while Kevin is around.”

  “If Gail’s ex-husband threatened my son in any way that could’ve been the trigger, right? Blake might have felt horrible for causing a scene.”

  I sensed her eagerness, and I couldn’t blame her. “I’ll speak to Nina, but let’s keep in mind that the bartender could have blown the flirtation out of proportion.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right,” she said. “I’ll let you get back to work, and I promise not to bug you again.”

  “No worries. You have a right to know how the investigation is going.”

  * * *

  I was exhausted when I got home around five; too tired to cook dinner.

  As I put a frozen pizza in the oven, it occurred to me that I still hadn’t started Max’s job. He needed it done by Monday morning.

  Since I was planning to spend Sunday with Brian, this evening was the only time I’d have to work on it.

  After feasting on the entire pizza and a glass of Pino Noir, I finally opened my laptop to perform an in-depth search on Max’s potential future boss, Martha Peyton.

  She was forty-two years old, divorced twice with no kids. She graduated from Columbia University, then went on to receive a masters in business then three years of law school. All the pictures I found of her online were impressive. This woman had brains and beauty, and I couldn’t help but feel slightly envious. Here was a woman younger than me who had accomplished so much more, and she was just getting started, it seemed.

  She had owned four businesses in the past eight years, each with varying degrees of success. Her new venture sounded like an interesting gig, a Boston press release touted the enterprise as an Uber meets Posh limo service. I couldn’t imagine that Max would want to work for a company like that when his expertise was all about security systems.

  Max hadn’t asked me to look into Martha’s personal life, but I couldn’t help myself.

  She was born and raised in North Carolina, where she won the Miss North Carolina pageant when she was eighteen. She graduated valedictorian of her class which awarded her with a full scholarship to Columbia. Her first husband was a lawyer, her second husband was a pediatrician. Both of her marriages had only lasted a few years each.

  Digging a little deeper, I found that Martha had been party to a lawsuit in which she ended up paying a large sum of money to some investors in a company she sold illegally. I couldn’t find much information on that, so her lawyer must have gone to great lengths to bury the lawsuit. If this was the kind of red flag Max was looking for, then he had a right to know that his future boss might be a swindler.

  I typed up the report—about thirteen pages long—and sent an email to Max that I was done. I also sent an invoice for the three hours work which totaled one hundred and fifty dollars. I had considered not charging him at all, but Carter would not be pleased. Years ago he had warned me never to work for free, even for friends and family. I eventually came to realize that he was right. It was all about having respect for my time and expertise.

  A few minutes later, I got a text from Max. He said he was in Bridgeport, and wanted to know if he could swing by my house to drop off a check.

  I agreed, as long as Max understood that it would not be appropriate for him to stay too long.

  Around eight o’clock, Max showed up at my door with my favorite bottle of Pinot Noir. He looked relaxed in faded jeans and a V-neck cotton sweater. “A thank you gift,” he said, handing it to me. “Thanks for getting the job done so fast.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.” I invited him into the kitchen. “Have a seat. The folder is on the table if you want to look through it.”

  Max casually looked around the place before sitting down. “Cute house. I bet you did some redecorating when you moved in.”

  “Yeah, Carter only had the bare necessities, so I’ve added some feminine touches.”

  “Looks nice.”

  I offered him a drink, but he declined. “Thanks anyway, but I don’t want to hijack your whole evening.”

  I joined him at the kitchen table. “Well, have a look at the file and let me know if you have any questions.” My voice sounded more formal than I had intended, but this was, after all, a business meeting.

  He thumbed through the file, eyes quickly scanning each page. In less than five minutes, he returned the pages to the folder and set them back on the table.

  “Well?” I said. “Are you satisfied enough to make a decision about working for her?”

  There was something in his expression that seemed off. He was nervous.

  “I have to ask, Max. Why are you considering changing careers? Martha Pearson’s new business has nothing to do with security systems.”

  “I know it’s a risk,” he said, “I just need a change, that’s all.”

  “If you say so, but as a friend, I would recommend you think about this one for a while before you commit. This woman has a track record, and I’m not only talking about her business track record.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I know you didn’t ask me to look into her personal life, but she’s been married and divorced twice in the past six years. She might have some issues with commitment, is all I’m saying.”

  He nodded, but his jaw tensed. I knew him well enough to know that a serious matter was weighing on him.

  “What’s going on, Max? Is there something about this new job you’re not telling me?”

  As he turned to face me, there was regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”

  “Lied to me about what?”

  “I’m not interested in working for Martha Pearson. I’m considering … well, I’m thinking about asking her to marry me.”

  My throat instantly seized up and I couldn’t speak. I didn’t know what to say or how to feel. Marriage?

  “I didn’t want to tell you,” he said. “I knew you wouldn’t take the job if I asked you to dig up the dirt on my potential fiancée.”

  My chest felt tight, like a hundred pound weight was pressing on me. As the shock began to release, I wasn’t sure if I felt hurt because he’d lied, or jealous because he was in love with this amazing woman.

  “We’ve been dating a few months,” he said. “We met when she was in California on a business trip. Things happened fast with us, but she’s very secretive about her past relationships.”

  I remained silent, listening to his words, but seething the whole time.

  “Look,” he said with panic in his voice. “I know you’re upset and I don’t blame you. But, give me a chance to explain.”

  “Seriously, don’t bother.” I stood up, trying to keep my legs from buckling. Then I marched to the front door and opened it wide. “I think you should go, now.”

  “Please, Sarah ...” He got to his feet and slowly walked towards me. “I need you to know the truth.”

  “Whatever it is, I’m not interested. I feel like a fool, and I just want to be left alone. I’m offended that you couldn’t trust me, and if this is how friends treat each other, then I don’t need a friend like you.”

  His eyes bore into mine with that puppy dog look that used to make me melt. Now, it only made me angry.

  He reached into his jean’s pocket and handed me a check.

  “I don’t want your money.” I turned my head away so that I couldn’t see his face, but I could feel his gaze burning a hole in my cheek.

  “I’m sorry, Sarah.” He lightly touched my arm as he moved out into the chilly night. “How can I make it up to you?”

  I didn
’t give him the satisfaction of a reply. I just closed the door in his face.

  Through the window, I saw him get into his rental car. He sat there for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes. It wasn’t until after he drove away that I wondered if I had overreacted.

  Chapter 10

  The next morning I woke up around eight and realized that Brian would be here within the hour. I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower, then after getting dressed, I downed three mugs of strong, black coffee.

  I checked my phone to see if Max had left a message, but he hadn’t. Just as well. Even though my anger had subsided, my feelings were still raw. Did he really think I couldn’t handle the truth? If he wanted to propose to this woman, I’d be the first to congratulate him.

  And if he was so afraid of telling me the truth, why didn’t he just hire some other P.I. to look into his girlfriend?

  When nine o’clock rolled around, Brian arrived, and I was happy for the distraction. I gave him a big hug. When I didn’t let go of him right away, he knew something was up.

  “Hey, Mom,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

  I let go and took a step back to admire my handsome son. It struck me just how mature his face was becoming. The acne was gone, replaced by a thick layer of facial hair. He was even styling his hair these days. Ah, what a difference having a girlfriend makes. “Oh, nothing. Are you ready for the big shopping day?”

  He rolled his eyes. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just moving in with my girlfriend.”

  “It’s a big deal to me,” I said, patting his cheek. “Where shall we go first? The kitchen store?”

  “Sure, but what do you know about kitchen stuff when you barely cook yourself?”

  “Don’t be fresh,” I teased. “I make the best frozen pizza in town, and don’t you forget it.”

  He laughed. “That’s true. Speaking of pizza, can we go to Flatbread for lunch?”

  “It’s not even ten o’clock, and you’re already thinking about lunch?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Sure. Whatever you want. Today is all about you.”

  * * *

  Around three, Brian headed back to Boston with a trunk load of household items for his new apartment. And even though my checking account was nearing a negative balance, I was happy to spend some quality time with him and reward him for being a responsible adult; going to school while working a full-time job.

  Speaking of jobs, my lack of checking account funds was motivation to continue with the Blake Pratt case and finally determine what drove him to drink on the night he died.

  Maybe there was no real definitive answer. Maybe Blake just had a moment of weakness. If what the experts say about alcoholism is true; you never get over the urge to drink, you just learn to manage it.

  With four days left to provide a valid theory for Sue-Ellen, I couldn’t waste another minute.

  Even though it was Sunday, I decided to take a chance and see if Nina might be home, preferably without her husband around. Maybe he was out playing golf with his buddies and I’d have Nina to myself.

  I did a quick search online to see what I could find out about Nina. She was twenty-six, never went to college and had never been married. She grew up in Connecticut with two brothers and her parents were both working class. According to my information, she hadn’t worked in over two years. At least, nothing that was on the books. Ah, must be nice to marry a man of means.

  I tried to refrain from forming an opinion of her till I met her. Maybe she would surprise me.

  * * *

  Kevin and Nina’s two-story home was located in one of Bridgeport’s most exclusive neighborhoods. Man, their insurance business must have been going gangbusters to be able to afford such a nice home.

  The young woman who answered the door was wearing a yoga outfit, her blonde hair in a braid. I recognized her as the same woman in the photo on Kevin’s desk. Up close, she looked a little older than in the picture, but she was still a gorgeous girl.

  “Good afternoon,” I said with a friendly smile. “You must be Nina.”

  She returned the smile, but there was confusion in her eyes. “Hi, can I help you with something?”

  “My name is Sarah Woods. Did your husband mention me?”

  She stared at my face as if trying to make a connection, then shook her head. “I don’t believe he did. He’s not home right now, but I can tell him you stopped by.”

  “Actually, I came by to talk to you. This is about Blake Pratt.”

  At the mention of his name, her smile faded. “Why?”

  “May I come in?”

  Her face lost all color, but she did not move a muscle. “I don’t know anything.”

  “Look,” I said. “You’re not in any trouble, I just want to know what you and Blake talked about that night before he died.”

  She opened the door wide so I could enter. “I suppose I have five minutes.”

  Upon entering the foyer, she closed the door behind her but did not invite me to have a seat. She was making it clear that my visit would be brief.

  “Sue-Ellen Pratt hired me to look into her son’s death. I’ve spoken to a few people who attended the event, and it appears that you and Blake were engaged in conversation most of the night.”

  I paused to see if she might object to that statement, but she remained quiet.

  “Anyway, my first question is, how was Blake’s mood that night? Was something bothering him?”

  “Bothering him? I don’t know, he seemed fine to me.”

  “Did he say he was craving a drink? Or maybe he had joked around about stealing a bottle of Scotch.”

  “No, in fact, he seemed very proud of himself for being able to resist temptation. He was drinking ginger ale all night.”

  “Yes, that’s what I’ve been told.” I could see that this line of questioning had reached a dead end, so I had to mentally shift gears. “How would you describe Blake and Gail’s relationship?”

  “I’m not the right person to ask. I had only met Blake that night.”

  “The bartender insinuated that you and Blake were very chummy. You repeatedly touched his arms and chest. There was an obvious chemistry between the two of you.”

  “I was just being friendly,” she said with a controlled politeness. “Neither of us knew anyone at the event, so we entertained each other.”

  “Blake was a handsome guy. I’ve seen pictures of him modeling. I wouldn’t blame anyone for wanting his attention.”

  “It was just being friendly.” She diverted her eyes. “I love my husband.”

  Observing her lovely features, I guessed she was probably late twenties, at least fifteen years younger than Kevin. And although Kevin wasn’t model material, he was clearly intelligent and successful in business. But for all I knew, Nina married him for money and security. Or maybe she really did love him. I couldn’t tell, nor did I really care.

  “There was a point in the evening when you and Blake were both missing,” I said. “Can you explain that?”

  When her eyes met mine, I saw a flicker of rage and fear. “I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

  “Look, Mrs. Pratt just wants to understand why her son decided to drink and drive that night. Something must have happened. You really don’t want to help a grieving mother find peace?”

  I could see that my manipulation tactic had worked on her. Her shoulders slumped as she exhaled a long breath. “Fine, I’ll tell you what happened, but you need to promise that you won’t tell my husband.”

  “I promise.”

  “Fine. About half-way through the event, I left to go to the ladies room. Blake had followed me in there. I thought it was rather bold, and I told him so. I also told him that I was happily married, and he had the wrong idea about me. I sent him away.”

  “Did anyone see you?”

  “No, at least I don’t think so. I never told Kevin, either. But I don’t think Blake would resort to alcohol just because I
turned him down. In fact, a few minutes later he apologized. Said he regretted doing that. He said it had been so long since he’d had sex and he was very frustrated.”

  “So, he basically told you that he and Gail were not having sex?”

  “I guess that’s what he meant. I mean, to be honest, nobody could really figure out why he was with her. Gail is a smart woman, but she’s not exactly, you know ...”

  “Your husband was married to her for eight years,” I said.

  “Kevin said that she was cute when she was younger, but she’s let herself go.”

  “Well, maybe she finally realized that her career was more important than vanity.”

  She shrugged. “Whatever. I’m just telling you what Blake told me. He told me that he wasn’t having sex. Maybe you should go ask Gail about that.”

  She didn’t try to hide her animosity toward Gail, which I found interesting. “You don’t seem to like Gail very much. It must be weird to have your husband working with his ex-wife.”

  “I knew that going into the marriage. I’ve made peace with it.”

  “Can’t be easy, though. Did your husband ever explain why they got divorced?”

  “Why does anyone get divorced?” she said. “Because the sex goes away.”

  An over simplified answer coming from a young woman who has never been divorced. Oh, how little she knew about the real world and real relationships.

  I could see my time had run out and I still had one important question to ask. “If your husband ever found out that Blake propositioned you that night, what would he do about it?”

  “Kevin? He’d beat the shit out of him.” Once the words had flown out of her mouth, her lips shriveled as if she regretted saying those words.

  “Thank you for your time, Nina.”

  As I was heading back to my car, I noticed a green car parked right behind my Toyota on the street. The car was an older model, and it had different colored doors like looked partially rusty; not the kind of car you expect to see in a neighborhood like this. There was a man in the passenger seat, but I couldn’t get a good look at his face.