The Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 7)

by Jennifer L. Jennings

  After a slight pause, he said, “Three weeks, give or take.”

  “Sue-Ellen told me that you moved to Vegas to become a full-time gambler.”

  The faintest of smiles appeared on his face. “It was good for a while. Then, not so good, which is why I came back.”

  “Why didn’t you go to your son’s funeral?”

  Another long pull on the cigarette. “I was there.”

  “Sue-Ellen didn’t see you there.”

  “I didn’t want her to. I knew she’d find a way to blame me for Blake’s death.” His voice was low, barely a whisper.

  “Why would she blame you?”

  “Because I left, though I had every intention of coming home a rich man. When it didn’t happen fast enough, she called me up and said I wasn’t welcome home.”

  “But you could’ve stayed in touch with your son, regardless?”

  He gave me an evil glare. “You really want to sit there and give me parenting advice?”

  “Sorry, I’m just curious.”

  He made a low grunting noise, like he couldn’t believe I had the gall to show up and confront him like this. He seemed to be having some inner turmoil as he fidgeted with the carton of cigarettes. “I called Blake over the past few years. I thought he understood the situation. I even tried getting him to move out to Vegas to live with me, but at that point I guess his mom had turned him against me. He called me a deadbeat dad. I guess Sue-Ellen never bothered to tell him that I had been sending money every month, at least, whenever I had a winning month.”

  He struck me as a master manipulator. The kind of guy who was used to getting his way because he was charming and good looking. “Sue-Ellen had no idea you’d been in touch with Blake.”

  “I suppose he never told her for good reason.”

  “It’s just odd, though. You come back to town and a few days later he’s dead. I’m sorry if that sounds insensitive.”

  “Look, Blake told me he’d been sober and was trying to get his life back on track. I was real proud of him. I quit drinking myself years ago, so I encouraged him to stay strong.”

  I gestured to the empty beer bottles on the counter. “Is that right?”

  “Those are Randy’s.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Hey,” he said with mild annoyance. “What do you want from me? I came back to town, wanted to see my son.”

  “There’s more to it than that,” I said, standing my ground.

  “Fine. I needed his help, and he was willing to hear me out.”

  “You needed Blake’s help?”

  “Yeah. I found out he was dating this rich girl, so I asked him for a loan. I figured he could get it. I mean, there he was, driving around in that fancy BMW.”

  “Did Blake agree to ask Gail for a loan?”

  “Nah, Blake didn’t have to ask her for a loan. He told me she was going to give him ten grand in a few weeks, anyway.”

  Clearly, I had misunderstood him. “I don’t understand. Why was Gail going to give him ten grand?”

  “Because it was almost the end of their arrangement.”

  “What arrangement?”

  He shook his head and laughed. “You have no idea, do you?”

  I tried to keep my cool because I had no clue what he was talking about. “Please enlighten me.”

  “It was all a ruse. Gail was paying Blake to be her boyfriend. The way he explained it to me, it was like a business proposition. He got a new car, a monthly allowance, and after one year, she promised to give him ten grand in cash. All he had to do was pretend to be her boyfriend for one year.”

  I could not imagine why Cliff would make up a story like this, but I didn’t believe it for a second. “Why would she do something like that?”

  “He said she wanted to make her ex-husband jealous. At any rate, Blake said he’d give me the ten grand as a loan.”

  “What do you need the money for?” I asked.

  “I owe some guys. Back in Vegas.”

  I could picture him telling his son a tall tale about loan sharks threatening to kill him if he didn’t pay up. Maybe it was true. “So, you’re telling me that Blake agreed to lend ten grand to the father that left him?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Sons always want to please their dads. Haven’t you ever heard that?”

  His tone was sarcastic, but I sensed there was guilt brewing inside him, that maybe he felt like a shit for manipulating his only son to giving him ten grand. I wondered if he ever planned to pay it back.

  “Getting back to the arrangement,” I said. “Why would a successful woman like Gail need to pay for a boyfriend?”

  “I already told you, she was trying to make her ex jealous. Blake said the only reason he agreed to do it, was because she promised to keep him sober. And, he wouldn’t have to sleep with her, or perform any sort of sex acts. He was very adamant about that part. All she wanted him to do was to pretend that he was in love with her.”

  The fact that Cliff was making up such elaborate details of this so-called arrangement, made me wonder if it could be true. And then, another idea struck me out of the blue. “Hold on a second. It was you. You’re the one who broke into Gail’s home yesterday.”

  His neck stiffened and I noticed the twitch in his lower eyelid. “Are you accusing me of something?”

  “Makes perfect sense,” I said, calmly, as if the revelation was more amusing than disturbing. “Blake never got his ten grand, but you still wanted to get your hands on some money.”

  His silence was proof that my words had merit.

  I could tell by his pensive expression that I needed to watch what I said, or I ran the risk of getting kicked out. It would not be beneficial to insult him. “Did Blake ever tell Gail that you were back in town?”

  He shrugged. “I doubt it.”

  “So, she had no idea that Blake planned to give you the ten grand. Not that I believe there was such an agreement.”

  He glared at me with contempt. “Then go ask Gail yourself. Ask her about the contract that Blake had to sign, stating all of the loopholes. There’s a list of rules that if he didn’t follow each and every one of them, he would forfeit the ten grand. He couldn’t drink, couldn’t smoke dope, couldn’t fornicate with anyone, and couldn’t get arrested. And most importantly, he couldn’t tell anyone about the arrangement.”

  “Blake actually showed you this contract?”

  “No, but why would he lie about it?”

  I couldn’t come up with a valid excuse, but that didn’t mean I believed this man of questionable integrity. “If this was a legally binding document, then Gail must have had a lawyer look it over, or at least, she would have needed a notary to authenticate the document.”

  “Blake told me that Gail’s secretary, or someone from her office witnessed the signing and stamped the document. Go ask her about it.”

  “Let’s pretend for a second that I’m starting to believe you, why would Blake tell you about all of this? Why would he confide in a father who abandoned him?”

  “First of all,” he said with clenched jaw. “Blake was almost sixteen when I left. He was practically an adult.”

  I could tell he was hung up on the father abandonment issue, but I pressed on. “So if Blake confided in you about the arrangement, and promised to lend you the ten grand, then why would he tell you about Gail’s stash of jewelry in her bedroom closet?”

  “He never told me about her jewelry.”

  “So, you just broke into her house hoping to find something of value that you could sell for easy cash?”

  Ignoring my question, he got up from the table, went to the fridge, and then slowly paced the kitchen while he guzzled a can of coke.

  After a brief silence, I finally said, “I get it. You don’t want to admit to anything. But you have probably already guessed that the cops are looking for you.”

  “So what? They won’t find any stolen jewelry here.”

  His features were placid, and I figured he had alrea
dy sold the jewelry to a pawn shop or a friend. Or, maybe he was bluffing, and the stash was still in the apartment, or in the green car. Either way, he didn’t seem concerned that I knew he was the thief.

  Of course, stolen jewelry was the least of my concerns because a brand new theory was emerging about the night Blake died.

  Blake was only a few weeks away from receiving his one year sobriety and the ten grand. What if Gail decided to sabotage their contract by spiking his ginger ale at the event? Then, if he got pulled over on the way home and got arrested, she wouldn’t be obligated to give him the money.

  Still, the whole idea of the contract seemed ridiculous. Why would Gail go to all the trouble, just to make her ex-husband jealous?

  Cliff tossed the empty coke can in the recycling bin, then opened the fridge to take out another. His hands were shaking as began to guzzle the second can of Coke.

  “I can tell you’re in pain,” I said to him. “Why don’t you call Sue- Ellen? You guys could be a comfort to one another through this difficult time.”

  His sneer said it all. He had no intention of calling his estranged wife. “If that’s all the questions you have, I’d rather be alone.”

  “I appreciate your time, Mr. Pratt. Just want to say again how sorry I am about your son.”

  Chapter 15

  It was almost noon when I got back to my car to find a text from Andrew.

  Just got out of the meeting. A member invited me to have coffee. I’ll meet you back at your house when I’m done.

  My head was spinning after my conversation with Cliff. I kept asking myself the same question over and over again; why would Blake come up with such an elaborate tale about his arrangement with Gail?

  The other issue on my mind was the burglary. It seemed quite obvious that Cliff was the guy. And why should I believe anything he told me, anyway? He could have made up the whole story about Blake’s arrangement with Gail to throw me off course.

  My first instinct was to call Gail and confront her about the so-called arrangement. But then I decided to hold off until after I saw Andrew.

  Once home, I made a pot of strong coffee, hoping that a hefty dose of caffeine would keep my brain firing on all cylinders. I spread the case notes over the kitchen table and studied them, but I kept going back to the photo of Blake’s car after the crash and those busted taillights.

  If someone had busted Blake’s lights during the event, it’s possible that Blake hadn’t noticed, especially if he was feeling woozy from the alcohol.

  I opened my laptop and looked up the website for the Bridgeport Convention Center. After a quick search, I was able to find exactly what I’d hoped for. They had video cameras installed in the parking lot for added security.

  I spent the next half an hour on the phone with the security company who managed the account with the convention center, and found out that they kept digital video on file for thirty days. I explained the situation with the broken taillights and agreed to look into it. I could expect a call back within a few hours.

  When Andrew got home around twelve-thirty, he brought some promising news that helped to solidify my theory.

  “You’re not gonna believe what this chick at the meeting told me about Blake.” he said, bristling with excitement.

  “What’s the girl’s name?”

  “Sandy. She’s probably in her late twenties. Anyway, Sandy told me that she and Blake had a little romance going, but they never slept together. For months, Blake has been stringing her along, telling her that they had to wait until the end of October until they could be together, because that’s when Blake was going to leave Gail. But that’s not all. This Sandy chick told me that Blake was coming into some money, though he never explained how or why. He basically told Sandy that he’d be able to afford to get them an apartment together, but she had to be patient.”

  “Well,” I said. “That somewhat confirms what Blake’s dad told me today.”

  “Wait, you talked to his dad?”

  “Yeah, turns out he was the one driving the green car. I think he was following me because he didn’t understand why I was asking questions about his son. He never explained how he knew that. Maybe he called Blake’s friend Trevor, and Trevor told him about me.”

  Andrew leaned back in his chair with a look of awe. “So, what the heck is going on?”

  “Looks like Cliff Pratt is telling the truth. Blake and Gail had an arrangement. Basically, she paid him to be her boyfriend. At the end of the year, as long as he abided certain rules, she would give him ten grand. Cliff came back to town a few weeks ago and asked his son for a loan to pay off gambling debts. Blake promised to lend him the ten grand once he got it from Gail.”

  “Why in the world would Gail do that to begin with?”

  “To make her ex-husband jealous. He remarried a young beautiful woman, and I guess Gail needed to prove to him that she was still desirable. I really don’t know, but I can understand how it must sting to see her ex so happy with his new life.”

  “But ten grand is a crap load of money.”

  “Not really,” I said. “Not to her. You haven’t met her, yet. You should see the clothes she wears. One outfit probably costs several grand.”

  I went on to explain how Cliff Pratt was likely the burglar who broke into Gail’s house and made off with the jewelry, and probably felt justified since Blake wouldn’t be getting the money he was owed.

  “You know what this means, don’t you?” Andrew said.

  I nodded. “I hate to say it, but maybe Gail is the one who sabotaged Blake’s sobriety because she didn’t want to pay him the ten grand when the year was up.”

  “How are we going to prove that? She’d never confess to something like that.”

  “There is one other possibility,” I said. “I should be getting a call back any minute now from the security company who manages the account with the Bridgeport Convention Center. There’s video surveillance in the parking lot. If someone went out and busted Blake’s tail lights during the event, we’ll have our proof.”

  * * *

  Just after one o’clock, I got the call we’d been waiting for.

  Andrew and I drove to the security company’s office to watch the video taken on the night of Saturday, October, 8th.

  At approximately 9:45 pm, a woman is seen entering the parking lot. She goes to a Lexus, opens the trunk and pulls out a long metal object that looked like a tire iron. Then she goes over to the white BMW that was parked only a few spots away. She pauses to take a look around the parking lot, then smashes out both tail lights on the BMW. She returns the tire iron to her own trunk and heads back inside the Convention Center. The whole incident took less than five minutes.

  “Is that Gail?” Andrew asked.

  “Yes, I’m afraid it is.”

  Chapter 16

  When Andrew and I arrived at the office of Langdon Insurance around three, Carla the office manager was seated at her desk, working on her computer. When she looked up and saw me, her expression became tight.

  “Good morning,” I said, cheerily. “Is Gail in her office? I have some news about Blake.”

  She eyed Andrew warily, then turned back to me. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No, but this is important.”

  “Just a moment, please.” Carla got on her phone and had a brief conversation before she finally told me that Gail would see us in her office.

  A few seconds later, I was introducing Gail to Andrew. I could tell she was wondering why my brother was tagging along, but she didn’t question it.

  She invited us to have a seat across from her desk. She removed her glasses and leaned back in her seat to regard me with raised eyebrows. “So, I’m curious what’s going on.”

  “What’s going on?” I repeated in a half mocking tone. “Oh, I’d say a lot is going on. First of all, I found Blake’s dad. He came back from Vegas right before Blake died.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Blake didn’t mention that to me.”<
br />
  “No, I suppose he wouldn’t have told you. But Blake told his dad everything. Specifically about the ten grand that you owed him, as per the arrangement you wrote up in the contract.”

  Gail opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She did not move a muscle or even blink.

  I continued. “You see, Blake was going to lend that money to his dad. Whether or not he’d ever get paid back is beside the point. The point is, Blake died just a few weeks before he was to get that money. I’m thinking that you sabotaged him, so you wouldn’t have to pay him.”

  She stumbled at first, but eventually got the words out. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Clearly, Blake’s dad is misinformed. I don’t know why he would say those things when he’s never even met me.”

  I studied her face, looking for tell-tale signs of deceit. She was a cool customer, now that she’d had a few moments to process what was going on.

  “Did you have Carla notarize the signing of the contract?” I asked. “Is that why she’s been acting so weird around me? I’ll bet you gave her a bonus to keep her mouth shut. If I were to look into her finances, would I see a hefty deposit around the time you had Blake sign the contract?”

  Gail’s back became ramrod straight. “Excuse me, but I don’t appreciate your tone. I cared deeply for Blake and I’m the one who helped him get sober.”

  “So, you’re telling me that you did not spike Blake’s ginger-ale? And you didn’t go out to the parking lot to bash in his tail lights?”

  She sucked in a quick breath and I knew I had touched a nerve. She swallowed hard and then managed to utter only one word. “What?”

  “We just saw the surveillance video that shows you bashing in the tail lights on Blake’s car. At precisely 9:45 pm. In the parking lot of the convention center. Less than one hour before he crashed his car into a tree.”

  The blood drained from her face as she stammered. “I … I can explain that.”

  “We’re all ears,” I said.