by Rachel Woods
“Oh, that’s right,” said Vivian, remembering. “Do you know someone named Guillermo Davis?”
“Guillermo Davis?” Leo thought about the name.
“Does that name sound familiar?” asked Vivian. “Maybe he went to school with you, Derek, and Besi.”
Leo shook his head. “Never heard the name before but that doesn’t mean he didn’t go to school with us? Why do you ask?”
“That’s the new password Besi wanted to use after she was robbed in the Aerie Islands,” said Vivian. “Besi told Melanie the name meant nothing to her, but I’m not sure about that.”
Leo said, “Maybe you can have Sophie check it out. See if there’s some connection between Besi and Guillermo Davis.”
“Good idea,” said Vivian.
As Leo slipped an arm around her shoulders, Vivian angled her body toward him, curling herself in his embrace.
“So, to recap,” began Leo. “Besi gets a text from Skip Taylor about something important they need to talk about.”
“Besi borrows the BMW to meet Skip Taylor somewhere on the island,” said Vivian.
“We need to find out where she and Skip Taylor met,” said Leo, pressing his lips against his wife’s brow as she closed her eyes. “I have a feeling he might still be there. I’d like to talk to him. Problem is, how do I find him? He must have given Besi an address where to meet him over the phone instead of texting the address to her.”
“If Skip gave her an address, how would she know how to find it?” asked Vivian, opening her eyes and tilting her head back to stare at him. “She probably used GPS.”
“Exactly,” said Leo. “All of Dad’s cars have GPS.”
“Maybe there’s an address in the GPS log of the BMW,” said Vivian. “We know the day Besi used the BMW. We can check the log for that day and see if there’s an address.”
“Might be the address where Besi went to meet Skip Taylor,” said Leo.
“It’s worth a shot,” said Vivian. “I’ll talk to Isaac.”
23
“How are you holding up?” Leo asked as he stood in the doorway of the second-floor den, staring at Derek, who slouched in one of the dark leather club chairs in the far corner of the room.
For the past few days, Leo had been hesitant about approaching Derek to ask him about Besi’s murder. He wasn’t quite sure how to start the inquisition, but he supposed there was no decent way to bring up the subject.
“How the hell do you think?” Derek took a sip of the dark amber liquid in his glass and grimaced. “My fiancée was shot to death right in front of me. So, I guess the answer to your question is, I’m not holding up.”
Leo didn’t know how to respond.
Most people professed to understand the grief of the grieving person, but Leo thought it would be disingenuous. He had no idea how Derek felt, nor did he want to, if he was honest. Leo didn’t even want to think about losing Vivian to some heinous act of senseless violence. When he thought about his wedding day, Leo couldn’t imagine what he would have done if Vivian had been shot as they were exchanging vows.
“Listen,” Leo cleared his throat. “You have any idea who could have shot Besi?”
“I already talked to the cops, okay?” Derek took another drink and then swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “I told them Besi didn’t have an enemy in the world. She was the sweetest girl. She was a friend to everyone who knew her. But now that Winnie has confessed it makes perfect sense. Winnie has always hated Besi and been jealous of Besi. I’m not surprised that Winnie killed Besi. She’s crazy enough to kill.”
Shifting in his chair, Leo said, “Dad doesn’t think Winnie killed Besi and I find it hard to believe myself.”
“Winnie confessed,” said Derek, his eyes glassy, darkening with drunken rage. “She killed Besi. The bitch needs to rot in jail for what she did.”
“I know Winnie said she killed Besi,” said Leo, trying to be sensitive and tactful, and not piss Derek off. “But, I don’t think the evidence is going to prove her claims.”
“Evidence? What the fuck?” Derek slammed the glass down on the small coffee table between the club chairs. “The cops don’t need evidence. They have Winnie’s confession. That’s all they need to make sure she stays in jail for the rest of her fucking life!”
“Derek, to make a case that Winnie killed Besi,” Leo started. “The cops need motive, means, and opportunity.”
“Yeah, and Winnie had all three,” said Derek, after another swig of his drink. “Motive—she hated Besi. Means—she could have easily bought a gun. Opportunity—she didn’t leave the island even though she had no reason to stay here because she wasn’t going to be in the wedding. Don’t you wonder why? She stuck around so she could blow Besi’s head off.”
Shifting in his chair, Leo said, “It is weird that Winnie didn’t leave St. Killian after she was kicked out of the wedding, but did she really hate Besi?”
“What is your problem?” Derek glared at him. “You want Winnie to get away with murder?”
“I want the person who killed Besi to be brought to justice,” said Leo. “But, I don’t think that person is Winnie.”
“Then who do you think killed Besi?” Derek asked.
“That’s what Dad wants me to find out,” said Leo.
“What the hell do you need to find out?” Derek slammed the empty glass down on the coffee table. “The cops have the killer. Winnie confessed. And I know Burt probably doesn’t believe that, but it’s true. Winnie killed Besi.”
“Why did Winnie hate Besi?” asked Leo, folding his arms as he leaned back in the club chair. “I haven’t been in touch with you guys for some time, but I remember Winnie and Besi being friends. So, what happened?”
“How the hell do I know?” Derek shrugged and looked away. “Winnie’s crazy. Who the hell knows why that psycho feels the way she does about anything.”
“You said that Winnie was jealous of Besi,” Leo said. “I can’t imagine why. Alfred Quasebarth, the last time I checked, is worth about twenty billion, which is more than Samuel Beaumont is worth, although three billion is nothing to sneeze at.”
“Neither is thirty-two billion,” said Derek, smirking. “Last time I checked, that’s how much your mom is worth.”
“Second richest woman in France,” said Leo, deciding not to let Derek’s smarmy sarcasm bother him. “But, my point was money can’t be the reason for Winnie’s jealousy. So, maybe Winnie was jealous of Besi because you chose Besi instead of her?”
Sneering, Derek asked, “What the hell are you talking about? I didn’t choose Besi over Winnie. I was never involved with Winnie.”
“But, you could have been,” said Leo. “Tom said you had a choice between Besi and Winnie. You chose Besi and—”
“Tom is a lying sonofabitch,” said Derek.
“So, it’s not true that you were only marrying Besi because you need money?” asked Leo, knowing that he was pushing his luck.
Shaking his head, Derek said. “How the hell can you ask me that? You believe Tom’s bullshit? I loved Besi. That’s why I asked her to marry me. She was supposed to be my wife. We were supposed to be on our honeymoon right now.”
Feeling like shit, Leo rubbed his eyes. “Derek, I’m sorry, okay. I didn’t mean to—”
“What did you mean to do, Leo?” Derek sneered. “Come in here and kick me when I’m down?”
Leo exhaled and then cleared his throat. “I’m just trying to find out who really killed Besi and why—”
“You know who killed Besi,” said Derek, eyes flashing with anger.
“Listen, I don’t want to upset you—”
“Then don’t,” warned Derek.
“I have to ask you about your gambling.”
Derek’s eyes narrowed to thin slits as his jaw clenched. “I don’t gamble anymore.”
“Melanie said you had some problems paying your gambling debts,” said Leo. “And Besi bailed you out.”
“Melanie is a busybody bi
tch who doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Derek said.
“Could Besi have been killed because of a debt you didn’t pay?” Leo asked, deciding to put the question out there and let the cards fall where they may. “Could someone have shot Besi to send you a message?”
“How the hell could you ask me something like that?” Derek shook his head.
Doubtful that Derek would give him a straight answer, Leo said, “Well, let me ask you this: Why did you leave Hennessy Capital? Was it because of your gambling?”
“Who told you that?”
Leo says, “Tom said—“
Derek cut him off. “That jealous pussy doesn’t know a damn thing about me.”
“Why did you stop working for your dad?”
“Unlike you,” said Derek. “I’m not going to let my father order me around and orchestrate my career path.”
Leo felt a jolt of unease. “Burt doesn’t order me around.”
“Then why are you still working at the Palmchat Gazette?” asked Derek.
Glaring at Derek, Leo fought the urge to slug him.
“Your dad is better now,” said Derek.
“Somewhat, but not quite,” disputed Leo. “He’s still got a ways to go before he’s fully recovered.”
“And what are you going to do when he does get back on his feet?” asked Derek. “Are you going to hang out in paradise wasting your talent? Or, are you going back to the Sudan where you belong?”
24
“What happened when you talked to Derek?” asked Vivian, joining Leo on the bed in their guest room on the second floor.
After a long, tedious day at the Palmchat Gazette, Vivian drove back to Burt’s mansion where she was greeted by Lemmie, who informed her that dinner had already begun. She was expected to join Leo, Burt, and the wedding party, including Kelsea, who’d been informed that the St. Killian police wanted all members of the doomed ceremony to remain on the island until Besi’s murder was solved.
Dinner had been a glum affair, grim and morose with awkward small talk. Lots of mumbled replies, furtive glances, and prolonged silences. Everyone doing their best to avoid the elephant in the room—Besi’s murder and Winnie’s arrest. Everyone terrified that someone would make the mistake of accidentally bringing up that heinous day.
Not even the chef’s succulent roasted goat could save the meal.
As soon as the dessert course was finished, everyone hurried off to other places, scurrying away, anxious to escape each other and the horrific incident that would forever bind them, the day no one wanted to talk about, the day none of them would ever be able to forget.
“Don’t ask,” said Leo, dragging a hand down his jaw. “I brought up what Tom said about him marrying Besi for her money. You can imagine how that went over.”
Vivian made a face. “Did he slug you?”
“Surprisingly, no,” said Leo. “Even though I probably deserved it.”
“That explains why he was scowling at you during dinner,” said Vivian, tucking her legs beneath her. “Did he have any idea who might have killed Besi?”
“As far as Derek is concerned,” said Leo, “Winnie confessed so she must have done it. The conversation was a total waste of time. I asked him about his gambling and his reasons for leaving Hennessy Capital and got nothing except typical defensive posturing and deflection.”
“Deflection?” questioned Vivian.
Leo exhaled. “He tried to shift the conversation away from himself by giving me crap about being forced to work for Burt. He was hoping to piss me off so I would stop questioning him.”
“Did he piss you off?” asked Vivian, detecting an edge of resentment in her husband’s tone.
“I knew what he was trying to do,” said Leo. “And it didn’t work.”
Slightly hesitant, Vivian asked, “Are you sure that what Derek said didn’t bother you?”
Leo glanced at her. “Why would it bother me?”
“Because maybe it’s true,” said Vivian. “Maybe you do feel forced to work for Burt.”
“Even though it wasn’t my idea to leave Africa,” said Leo, “I don’t regret my decision. My dad needed me and, honestly, when I found out you were in St. Killian, that sealed the deal.”
Vivian smiled as Leo kissed her, but she wondered if her husband was being honest with himself about his feelings.
“Anyway, it’s not like we’re staying in St. Killian forever,” said Leo, leaning back on the pillows propped against the tufted headboard. “As soon as Dad makes a full recovery, we can go back to the Sudan and pick up where we left off.”
Vivian nodded, but her gesture of agreement felt disingenuous and deceptive. She didn’t want to go back to Africa and pick up where they’d left off, which was heartbroken and separated. At odds over the future of their relationship. Divided by their opinions. Now that they were together, Vivian couldn’t imagine why Leo wanted to go back to the place where they’d been torn apart.
“Did you get a chance to talk to Isaac about the GPS log in the BMW that Besi borrowed?” asked Leo.
Refocusing her thoughts, Vivian said, “There was an address in the GPS log of the BMW on the day Besi borrowed the car. It was the only address in the log. A house in Oyster Farms. On Dove Street. It’s a vacation property.”
Leo asked, “Is Skip Taylor renting that house?”
“I contacted the real estate company that manages the rental, but of course, they refused to tell me who’s renting the place,” Vivian said. “So, I did a drive-by. There was a Toyota in the driveway. I knocked on the door, but no one answered.”
Stroking his jaw, Leo said, “I’ll bet Skip Taylor was staring at you through the peephole and decided not to answer the door.”
Vivian said, “We might have to do a stakeout. Catch him leaving the house and Shanghai him.”
“Like we did to that defense minister in Mali who kept dodging us,” said Leo, chuckling. “You stepped in front of him, and when he turned to run, I was behind him. Bastard was cornered. Had nowhere to go.”
Anxious to move away from memories of their African exploits, Vivian said, “Anyway, in other news, Stevie’s cousin hacked Besi’s mystery phone. It’s a burner, so he couldn’t find out who it belongs to, but he recovered some deleted text messages that were very interesting.”
“There’s that word again,” said Leo. “Interesting.”
“Trust me,” said Vivian, crawling over Leo to retrieve her phone from the bed table drawer. After returning to her spot, she accessed the file where she’d stored the information, and she said, “Someone texted: We need to meet tonight. Urgent. Elizabeth can’t be trusted. She won’t keep quiet about what she knows.”
“Who sent that text?” asked Leo. “And who did they send the text to?”
“The owner of the mystery burner phone sent the text to Besi,” said Vivian.
Leo frowned. “Wait. So, Besi could’ve sent herself a text?”
Vivian shook her head. “I don’t think the mystery burner phone was Besi’s.”
“I thought Melanie found the mystery burner in Besi’s suitcase.”
“She did, but she also said she didn’t recognize the phone as belonging to Besi,” Vivian reminded him. “I think that’s because the mystery burner wasn’t Besi’s.”
“Then how did Besi get the mystery burner?” asked Leo. “And who does it belong to?”
“Not sure,” answered Vivian.
“Any leads on who Elizabeth is?”
“I thought you would know,” said Vivian. “Maybe Elizabeth is a friend of Besi’s? Or Derek’s? Did you guys go to school with an Elizabeth?”
“Yeah, I’m sure we did, but I don’t remember Besi or Derek having any close friends named Elizabeth,” said Leo. “But, I don’t know all of their friends.”
“What I’m wondering is why Elizabeth can’t be trusted?” asked Vivian.
“And what does she know that she won’t keep quiet about?”
“Maybe something to do w
ith Derek’s gambling,” suggested Vivian.
Leo said, “That’s possible. Did Besi text the owner of the mystery burner back?”
Vivian stared at her screen. “Besi texted: Fine. I’m at the house.”
Leo said, “So, Besi met with the owner of the mystery burner.”
“Apparently,” said Vivian. “Then, a few hours later, Besi sends a text to the owner of the mystery burner, which reads: It’s Besi. Need to see you now! We have a problem! And the owner of the mystery burner texted: I’m on my way.”
“You’re right,” said Leo. “That is interesting.”
“Weird thing is that these texts were sent on the same day,” said Vivian.
“Weird thing is not knowing the name of the owner of the mystery burner,” said Leo. “And having to call that person, the owner of the mystery burner.”
Vivian laughed. “Well, the last four digits of the mystery burner are 8977. How about that?”
“Guess that’s okay,” said Leo. “Okay, so, maybe 8977 didn’t show up. Or, maybe 8977 showed up and left, and then something happened, and Besi needed 8977 to come back to the house.”
“Because there was a problem,” said Vivian. “But, what kind of problem?”
“An urgent one,” said Leo. “Maybe involving Elizabeth? The woman who wouldn’t keep quiet about what she knows. When were these texts sent?”
“In April,” said Vivian. “When Besi was in the Aerie Islands getting her bump removed.”
“You think these texts have anything to do with Besi’s murder?” asked Leo. “I guess maybe Besi and 8977 were texting about Derek’s gambling, but the texts aren’t threatening to Besi.”
“You’re right,” conceded Vivian as she powered off her phone. “And we’re reading these texts completely out of context, so we can’t draw any conclusions at this point.”
Leo asked, “And what about the nasty emails Melanie said some guy sent to Besi’s real phone?”
“Stevie’s hacker cousin is still working on retrieving those,” said Vivian.
Leo said, “Well, let’s hope he finds the emails, and then we can tell the cops and let them handle the investigation, which is their job. Our job, despite what my father thinks, is to report on the results of the investigation.”