She wiggled her eyebrows. “Brad’s the CFO all right, but industry rumors have him on the outs with his boss and the BCI Directors.” She sipped coffee again but I held my piece.
“Brad,” she stretched out his name, “is involved with some high level corporate politics. Sounds like he’s fighting for his career.”
“He is? I thought he said he—” I thought for a moment. “He said a deal had gotten hot. I just assumed he’d meant for his current company.”
“Ginger couldn’t get details, but Rob told her he’d heard Brad had gotten in trouble at MIT. He may not have dropped out.” She grinned. “I’ll bet I know what kind of trouble. Hacking.” She returned her attention to her coffee.
I sat quietly, figuring Katie deserved her spotlight time. Plus, my thoughts were tumbling like a class full of toddlers learning to somersault.
She placed her cup on the table. “Anyway, Brad landed a job at BCI right out of school.”
“So he’s never worked anywhere else?” I sat back. “Ten years or more at the same job and now he’s in jeopardy.”
“Yeah, so new, improved Brad may disappoint his mama after all.”
“She’d never be disappointed. He’s her reason for living. Remember when the cops showed at school and took him home? After his father beat up his mother and left town?”
Katie sobered. “I’d forgotten. For a long time, her only public appearances were when Brad played varsity golf.”
While I’d missed my father after he ran out, I sure wouldn’t have wanted that scenario. My attention returned to the present.
“So Cam nailed it. Brad does have a secret. His success may be short lived.”
“True. But then, we all have information we don’t share, and corporations are one big mass of backstabbing politics. Get more than one materialistic person in a room and things will head for hell sooner than later. Those guys and their golden parachutes always end up on their feet.”
“But a position loss? Wouldn’t that be a big ego blow?”
She shrugged. “Ginger has a hunch that Brad acted as Nicole’s secret investment partner. Could be Brad is branching out. If he leaves BCI on his own, his ego doesn’t take a hit.”
“What? No way. Nicole made Brad’s life miserable in high school. Don’t you remember? She had her stupid jock boyfriends stuff him into a locker. And they’d knock over his lunch trays, trip him, all that bullying stuff.”
Katie leaned forward. “What better way to kick bully butt? Come back a successful CFO and lord it over your enemies.”
“But, Katie, he’s offered a reward for information in Clarice’s murder. If anything, he’s a good guy.”
“Then who played Nicole’s investor? And Clarice. Who paid her consulting fees? Travis? You? We know someone in our class is a murderer. The way people are getting knocked off, our suspect list has narrowed and I don’t want you convicted for crimes you didn’t commit.”
I swallowed my tongue. Not really, but it sure felt that way.
“One thing I’ve learned from Dirk is trust no one until they’ve proven themselves and their motives. I know you’re not a killer. That leaves two known options and the always popular “person or persons unknown.””
“Will you talk this over with Dirk?”
“Cop A-hole? The man who told me they have financial experts on the case and Ginger should go back to baking cookies?”
That explained why Katie hadn’t come in while Dirk and Matt were here.
“You mean the man who told me to “stop the girl detective act?” That he had the case under control?”
Okay. Her rant had some strength.
“The man who made fun of my Demonic Duo cape?” Her voice level and tone rose. “Who threatened to put me in jail along with my friends for our own good?”
Uh oh. I bit back my own anger. No way could I tell Katie that Dirk had intimated he thought I could be a murderer.
“The man I may never put out for again? That man?”
“Um.”
“I see you get the picture.”
“Yes, well—”
“Well, damn nothing. I say Brad is in this up to the knot on his silk tie. And I’m not so sure Travis is an innocent bystander. His whole forgiveness act just hit me wrong. He says he’s missed you but doesn’t bother calling or writing for fifteen years.” She snorted and threw up her hands.
Katie’s suppositions had been proven right before. Plus, her observations made me uncomfortable. But so far she’d been wrong about Nicole being a murderer. I couldn’t reconcile the changes in Brad, but that didn’t make him, or Travis, killers. I kept my doubts to myself, though.
I flexed my hands. “Okay. What next?”
“Keep Brad from leaving town before a certain cop who-is-too-stupid-to-live has a chance to arrest him.”
“Not a problem. Brad said he’s here all week visiting his mom.”
“That’s what he told you. The truth is something else again. He’s got money, undoubtedly a passport, and reason to run. I say we do a stakeout. My cape is in the car.”
“And I say you should call Dirk.” I finished off my coffee. I’d rather call a snake, but I kept my mouth shut about Dirk’s earlier visit.
“Matt. I’m too pissed off to call he-who-must-be-obeyed.”
I figured Dirk had grounds for anger too, but wouldn’t open that subject for discussion. Especially because I currently agreed with her.
“I’m not calling him. You want to report our crazy ideas, go ahead.” She stood and paced. Katie mumbled in a loud whisper about “jerks,” “no appreciation” and various deprecations I knew referred to Dirk. I almost felt sorry for him then scotched my sympathy. He’d lost my good will earlier today. The man needed help dismounting from his high horse and Katie figured as the one to assist.
“Maybe we should call Tom Jenkins instead.” At least he appeared anchored on my side. Even though my billable hours would rise through the stratosphere with the extra work involved in following this lead.
Katie’s eyes narrowed. “I get the feeling something happened here that you’re not telling me.” She put one hand on her hip. “Just what exactly did my live-in jerk face say?”
“Nothing, nothing. It’s just that I prefer not facing an angry cop, that’s all.”
“Hmph.”
“I’m with you. They can follow their own leads.” I set my empty cup down.
“I’m glad you agree.” She made shooing motions with her hands. “Let’s go. You can ride to the job site with me.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Cam is waiting for the new plans.” Katie grinned. “I know he’ll be happy to see you riding sexy shotgun.”
“Your plans for revenge on the male race starring my, uh, Cam can wait. Take out your anger on your real target tonight. I’m already running late.” I checked the clock and realized I’d have to rush.
“Spoil sport. By the way,” she examined her cuticles, “I overheard Cam talking with someone this morning. He wants to keep you safe.” She added air quotes around the last word.
“What?” I glanced at the clock and knew I didn’t have time for a detour. “He has no right.”
“Macho, alpha man.” Katie sang and gave a hip shake as she misquoted the disco tune lyrics.
“I don’t have time for this.” Grabbing my supplies bag and purse, I snagged my keys from the table. “Let’s meet for drinks tonight. I have a feeling I’ll need a super-sized alcoholic something.”
Katie matched my race for the door. “Sounds good. I’ll call you later.”
We took off in opposite directions, but I figured we’d be united in spirit today. And over alcohol tonight.
I stewed over Cam’s behind-my-back plans to an unknown someone as I drove. The fact that he didn’t try hiding his conversation from Katie told me Cam had my safety in mind. Still, he needed to back off. Heavy dating—okay, and plenty of hot sex—didn’t make him my hus—gulp—keeper. I shied from completing the word I’d almost thought.
Dolores met me
at the door. “I worried something had happened to you.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “You’re usually earlier than this. Is something—”
Wisely remembering she had clients eavesdropping in her adjoining waiting area, Dolores helped me carry my bags. We stopped outside my room.
“I’ll tell you later, I promise.” We hugged. “It’s all good.”
I hoped she wouldn’t feel my tense muscles and know I lied.
“Your first appointment is in fifteen minutes, with a full morning, then nothing after one o’clock,” she said.
I called Tom Jenkins after my second client had left. He had court, so I left a message relating Ginger’s research. With the billing clock running, I omitted Katie’s suspicions about Brad’s potential link to Nicole. I wondered if Clarice’s business could be the key we’d all overlooked.
My inability to help myself weighed on my mind through the rest of my appointments. Mrs. Sievers, my last client, waited for my ministrations. At least I excelled with my job. I pasted on a smile and knocked before entering.
Mrs. Sievers, the mother of my classmate Sam, had kept her youthful appearance. Her pleasant looks didn’t reflect her reputation as a shrewd observer. She turned her head and eyed me.
“You look surprisingly relaxed for a murder suspect.”
My smile slipped, and I forced my expression back into happy lines. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Sievers. Thanks for making an appointment with me.”
Determined to keep our interaction on a professional basis, I continued before she could voice another word. “Do you have a particular ache bothering you today?”
“Yes. My heart aches over those murders. I’ve been having nightmares about my Sammy winding up dead. You know he dated Clarice in high school, right?” She shivered.
My hand hovered over the massage oil pump bottle attached at my belt. “I had a reminder of that fact just yesterday. Are you having pain anywhere? Your shoulders? Lower back?”
I struggled to keep her on track for a massage, knowing she’d settle in when ready. Meanwhile, my thoughts flew to high school years. Sam Sievers had hung with the “out” crowd, the misfits who found each other through some odd sense of recognition and banded together at lunch and on the bus. Brad and Sam had befriended each other. I wondered if their mothers had done the same.
“Oh, I don’t pay aches any attention. At my age, if I noticed them all I’d never get anything done. Just do your thing, dearie.”
“You aren’t old, Mrs. Sievers.” I knew she ran marathons and took Zumba.
I folded back the sheet and warmed oil in my palms before applying it to her back. Some clients liked silence, others were chatterers. Mrs. Sievers fell into the latter group.
“Yes, Sammy wasn’t the only one who had a crush on Clarice, poor thing.”
I didn’t know who the “poor thing” was so didn’t comment.
“Sammy and Clarice dated junior year before she dumped him.” She sniffed. “At the time, I could have killed her for the hurt she put on my poor boy.”
My hands stilled for a moment.
Mrs. Sievers chuckled. “No, I didn’t kill Clarice sixteen years after the fact. She did Sammy a favor. He went off to college, found a lovely girl and they gave me two gorgeous grandchildren. Still happily married too.”
“That’s great. Too bad I didn’t see Sam and his wife at the reunion dinner.” I found a knot under her shoulder blades and applied pressure.
“Umm. He probably sat with his friends all night. My Sammy is loyal to a fault.” She lay quietly. “No, Clarice was bad news back then and she acted no better now. It’s a shame she was murdered, though. Bless her heart. Carrying on with Brad Crosby, and her a married woman.” She tsked. “And that husband of hers. Talk about two peas in a pod. He and Nicole Polk were flirting and flaunting all over town. “
Her muscles eased and I moved to her neck.
She took a deep breath and exhaled. “Yes, Arabella and I worried about Brad getting sucked in by that hussy.”
“Arabella? Is that Mrs. Crosby?”
“Yes, and a better mother you wouldn’t find anywhere. Outside of me, of course.” She laughed then gasped when I hit a tender spot. “Please, dearie, a lighter touch.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Sievers, you’ve got a toxin build up there. I’ll warn you in advance if I find another.” I resumed working on her muscles and waited for her to continue. I knew she would.
“I guess that’s a polite way of telling me I talk at the wrong times.” She chuckled with the noise muffled but identifiable.
“No, I just want you to enjoy your experience.”
“Where did I leave off? Right. Arabella. Well, we’ve had some conversations the last several months. Arabella knew Clarice chased after Brad for his money. You did know he’s done well for himself in California?”
“I assumed that once he returned for the reunion. Brad and I weren’t really friends.”
“That’s too bad. He had a big crush on you in school.”
I finished with her back, replaced the sheet there and uncovered her left leg.
“Yes, Arabella had hopes you’d notice her boy, but of course, that didn’t happen. You were going with that basketball star Travis Knowles, right?”
As if she needed a reminder. This woman tracked social groupings in her head the way a computer sorted data. Her memory didn’t break down or get lost in electrical outages, either.
Making a noncommittal noise, I continued with the massage.
“Getting back to Brad, I often thought he’d make a good doctor, but he went into business instead.”
I made the expected response. “Doctor?”
“Oh, my, yes. Brad’s father taught him to use a knife. When he wasn’t on that computer, he studied anatomy and life sciences. He had the makings of a good surgeon. I know because my brother is a doctor.”
Before I could absorb that comment, she’d moved on.
“Arabella mentioned she heard her son tell that woman, Clarice, he wanted his money.”
I waited for her to continue, but knowing she had a captive audience, Mrs. Sievers stopped speaking and waited. A classic bait and switch move.
“Is this pressure working for you, Mrs. Sievers?”
“Yes.” She waited.
After a short pause, I gave in. “Huh. Wonder what Brad meant by wanting his money? Do you think he did business with her?”
She snorted. “Funny business if you ask me. He told Arabella he’d lent Clarice start-up money for a project.”
I moved to her right leg after tucking the sheet around her completed extremity.
“That doesn’t sound odd. One old friend helping another.”
She turned her head. “Sending her a stream of money every month for her consulting services? Consulting on what? Who does business like that?”
“How did she know? Mrs. Crosby, I mean.”
“Oh, Arabella could give a bat lessons in hearing. She knew something smelled and listened in on Brad’s conversations.” Mrs. Sievers grunted when I worked on a tight thigh muscle. I applied pain relief gel and moved on.
“Well, I told Arabella she could relax once he gets back to California tonight. Both our boys will be safe.”
“Tonight?” Only my years of practice kept my hands steady with even pressure. Otherwise I might have broken the poor lady’s leg.
“I know. It’s so sad. Arabella rarely sees her son and now he’s leaving a few days early. Something about a South American business merger opportunity.” She stilled. “Ecuador? Paraguay? I can’t remember. But she’s proud of his success.”
Mrs. Sievers switched to discussing her grandchildren. I had to hold her on the table or she’d have slipped off to grab her wallet-sized photo album. Only my promise to look through all the pictures after her massage ended kept her in place. That, and the fact that she’d finally relaxed into loose muscles.
Once again I found myself operating on automatic pilot while a client lay on my table. My thought
s flew from point-to-point.
Brad planned on leaving early. Tonight and headed for South America. One of those countries had no extradition treaty with the U.S., but which one? And would Brad really head there or to some other country?
Just as importantly, a link had been established between Brad and Clarice. He’d been funneling her money, and a jump to his silent partnership with Nicole didn’t take much imagination. Plus he knew how to use knives and had studied anatomy. Sad Brad had graduated to the big time, and I hoped, to the big house. The one with guards and bars. Because even though I hadn’t fully believed Katie, once again I was sure she’d nailed the criminal’s identity.
After an extra fifteen minutes oohing and aahing over some really darling towheads, I ushered Mrs. Sievers to the door.
“Dearie, you did me a world of good. I’ll be back for another massage. Well, unless you get arrested.” She turned back from the exit. “Not that I think you capable of murder, bless your heart.” She patted my cheek. “You don’t have it in you, sweetie.”
I thanked her and grabbed my phone and Matt’s business card. This lead had come unbidden, and was too important to leave as a voice mail. “Come on, come on, answer.”
A damn message instruction. After this whole mess ended, I’d find out why the town’s detectives never answered their damn phones when you needed them.
My second call to Tom Jenkins also resulted in a message because he had a court appearance. I debated calling 9-1-1, but responding to gossip wouldn’t be considered their emergency.
I dialed someone I knew would respond. “Katie, where’s Dirk?”
“I’m not his mother,” she sniffed. “Why?”
“It’s important, and Matt’s not answering his phone.”
My tense tone must have alerted her. “Maggie, what’s happened?”
“It’s Brad. I just learned he’s leaving tonight. Do you know if Dirk and Matt talked with him after you gave them Ginger’s information?”
“We haven’t spoken a word since last night.”
Well, that explained a lot.
“Maggie, we need to act fast. Can you pick up Ginger? We’ll have to follow him.”
A noise at my door alerted me to Ginger standing in front of me. “She’s here now.”
Death Rub Page 14