Killer Investigation

by Amanda Stevens

  The weekend passed without further incident, but Arden couldn’t relax. She worked in the office for a little while on Saturday morning and then went home to finish the list of everything that needed to be done to Berdeaux Place. Obviously, with the greenhouse failure, things were direr than she’d anticipated. As she explored the premises and grounds, she kept an eye out for her uncle so that she could explain what had happened. He never turned up. Dave Brody had vanished, as well. The deadline he’d set for Reid had come and gone, but for the moment, he seemed intent on keeping a low profile. Or else he’d gotten a message from Boone Sutton. No Dave Brody, no Detective Graham. No word from her grandfather, either.

  Still, Arden knew better than to let down her guard, and as the days wore on, a pall seemed to settle over the city. An encroaching gloom that portended dark days ahead. She wanted to believe that Haley Cooper’s murder had been random, a victim caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, but she had a feeling nothing about the woman’s death or the killer’s agenda was random. She now had an inkling of what Charleston had experienced during the Twilight Killer’s reign of terror. The waiting. The imagined sounds. The impulse to hurry home before sundown and sequester oneself behind locked doors as shadows lengthened and dogs howled behind neighbors’ fences.

  She feared this quiet time might be the calm before the storm.

  Another worry began to niggle. Reid had said nothing about extending her assignment, much less making the arrangement permanent. She hated to think of their time coming to an end. They’d settled into an amiable working relationship and Arden loved having a place to go to every morning. She admired his long-term plans for the firm, and, more than anything, she wanted to contribute to the success of those plans. But she refused to press him for an answer. His firm, his call.

  Since the greenhouse incident, he’d kept things casual and that was a very good thing, Arden decided. The easy camaraderie had given them a chance to become friends again. Perhaps not the best buddies of their childhood—not yet—but the tension lessened with each passing day.

  Or so she’d thought.

  One afternoon she looked up from her work to find Reid standing in the doorway watching her with a puzzled expression, as if he couldn’t quite figure her out. The intensity of his gaze caught her by surprise and her heart thudded, though she tried to keep her tone light.

  “Everything okay?”

  He folded his arms and leaned a shoulder against the door frame. He didn’t have outside meetings that day and was dressed casually in jeans and a dark gray shirt open at the neck. “Do you ever wonder what our lives would be like now if things had worked out differently fourteen years ago?”

  The question took Arden by surprise. She pretended to write herself a note while she pondered an answer. “I think about it sometimes, but I try not to dwell. We can’t change the past.” She shrugged. “Why bring it up now? I thought we’d moved past all that. We’re working well together, aren’t we?”

  “We are,” he agreed. “But don’t you ever get the feeling we have unfinished business between us?”

  Her heart knocked even harder against her rib cage. “What do you mean?”

  He shifted his gaze to the window, frowning into the sunlight that streamed through the glass. “I’ve always wondered why you left the way you did. Why you barely even took the time to say goodbye. We were so close and after everything we’d been through, ending things the way we did felt...wrong.”

  “I thought it was better to get it over with quickly. Rip the bandage off and all that.” She paused thoughtfully. “You always make it sound as if my leaving came out of the blue, but you know that’s not the way it happened. We agreed that time apart would be good for us. Separate colleges gave us a chance to be independent. We were so young, and we had so much growing up to do. Maybe things worked out for the best. What’s the point in looking back?”

  He came into the office and sat down in a chair facing her desk. “It’s not healthy to leave issues to fester.”

  “What issues?”

  “All those times you were in Charleston for holidays and summer break. You visited, but you never really came back. You were here physically, but your mind and your heart were a million miles away. It was like you couldn’t even stand the sight of me anymore. Like you hated me for what happened.”

  How would you know? Arden wanted to lash out. You all but ignored me when I came home. You made me think there was nothing left for me here.

  Instead, she said, “That’s what you thought? I didn’t hate you. I never could. It was just hard for me to be here after everything that had happened. I felt so guilty. If only I’d taken better care of myself. If only I’d gone to the doctor sooner, if only I’d gotten more rest. And I felt even guiltier because a part of me was relieved when it happened. I know how awful that sounds, but it’s the truth. That guilt is why I couldn’t look at you.”

  “What happened wasn’t your fault,” he said.

  “I know that. I probably knew it then, too, but my emotions were so fragile and everything between us seemed to be falling apart. We wanted different things, and that was never more apparent than in the way we each coped with our pain. You took comfort in the familiar. You wanted to cling to what we had. I wanted to run away. Maybe I should have tried harder to explain my feelings to you, but I probably didn’t even understand them myself back then. I just knew I needed to get away from my grandmother’s house.”

  “And from me.”

  “Yes, if I’m honest. We’d been inseparable since childhood. I needed a fresh start. I wanted to meet new people, have new adventures.”

  “I always thought we would have those adventures together,” he said. “I didn’t see why a baby had to stop us. I was young and stupid, and I had some crazy, romantic notion of how it could be, the three of us taking on the world. I never took into account what you would be giving up for my dream.”

  “As long as we’re getting everything out in the open, I’ve always wondered why you never came to find me,” she said. “In all those years, not a single phone call, email or text.”

  “You wanted your space.”

  “I thought I did.” She shrugged. “Things don’t always work out the way we want them to.”

  “And sometimes they work out in the way we least expect.” He held her gaze for the longest moment before he rose to leave.

  “Reid?”

  He glanced over his shoulder.

  “Thank you for what you said just now. That it wasn’t my fault.”

  “It wasn’t. I should have told you a long time ago.”

  “You did. You told me over and over. I just wasn’t ready to listen. Anyway...it’s good to clear the air.”

  “Yeah.”

  He went back to his office without further comment.

  Arden sat quietly for a few minutes and then got up to follow him. She said from his doorway, “Can I ask you something else? It’s not about the past. Actually, it’s more of a favor than a question.”

  He set aside his phone. “Should I be worried?”

  “No, it’s not like that.” She pulled a creamy envelope from her dress pocket and walked over to slide it across his desk.

  He picked up the envelope and glanced at the address. “What’s this?”

  “An invitation to the Mayor’s Ball. It was delivered to Berdeaux Place earlier this week.”

  He glanced up. “That’s cutting it a little close. Isn’t the ball tomorrow night?”

  “I was obviously a late addition to the guest list,” she said. “I assume you got your invitation weeks ago.”

  He didn’t seem the least bit interested. “I remember seeing one in the mail. Probably still around here somewhere.”

  “You weren’t planning on going?”

  He leaned back in his chair with a broad smile, the seriousness of their earlier
conversation forgotten. “That’s one of the perks of having my own firm. I no longer have to climb into a monkey suit to please my old man.”

  Arden sat down in the chair across from his desk, reversing their roles. “Did you happen to notice that it’s being held at Mayfair House this year?”

  He gave her a curious look. “How do you feel about that?”

  “It’s very strange. I never remember my grandfather having so much as a dinner party. He hated anyone, including me, intruding on his privacy, and now, suddenly, he’s throwing open his doors to half of Charleston.”

  “My father said he’d heard rumblings about the old man trying to rehabilitate his image. He thought it might be for your benefit.”

  Arden shrugged. “I don’t see how it could be. This had to be in the planning for months. Still, if I didn’t suspect he was up to something before, I certainly do now.”

  “You really don’t trust him, do you? Are you sure you aren’t letting your grandmother’s animosity cloud your judgment?”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “You’re asking me that after the conversation you had with him last week? Aren’t you the one who told me to stay away from him?”

  He leaned forward, his expression suspicious. “Yes, I did. Which is why I’m hoping you aren’t planning to go to this thing tomorrow night.”

  She plucked at an invisible thread on her dress. “Of course, I’m going. It’s the perfect place to interact with him for the first time. If I’m lucky, I may get some insight into what he’s up to.”

  “Assuming he does have an agenda, he won’t give himself away that easily,” Reid warned. “Mayfair Place will be packed. Lots of press, lots of cameras. He’ll be on his best behavior.”

  “Unless he’s caught off guard.”

  “Arden.” He drawled her name in that way he had. “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing,” she said innocently. “I just want to talk to him. And if you’re really concerned about my safety, you’ll go with me.”

  His eyes glinted, reminding her of the old Reid Sutton. “As your date?”

  She hesitated. “As my friend or my boss. Whatever makes you feel most comfortable.”

  “Nothing about the Mayor’s Ball makes me comfortable.”

  “Because you’re looking at it all wrong,” Arden insisted. “This is no longer about your father. This is about you and the future of your firm. Think about the guest list. Word will already have gotten around about Ambrose Foucault’s imminent retirement. His clients will be there, ripe for the picking.”

  “I thought I wasn’t allowed to go after his clients until his retirement is official,” Reid said.

  Arden tucked back her hair. “That was before he shared a private conversation with my uncle and possibly my grandfather. All bets are off now. As far as I’m concerned, anyone who comes to that ball is fair game. Think of it as a scouting expedition. I may be a little rusty, but I daresay I can still work a room. And we both know you can charm birds out of a tree when you set your mind to it.”

  “Listen to you being all cutthroat.”

  She met his gaze straight on. “No, I’m being practical. A few of those old-money clients could help subsidize the other cases we want to take on.” You. The other cases you want to take on. She started to correct herself, then decided changing the pronoun would call too much attention to her slip. Instead, she rushed to add, “If I haven’t convinced you yet, then imagine all those wagging tongues when we walk into Mayfair House together.”

  He tapped the corner of the envelope on his desk. “I’ll think about it.”

  She pounced. “What’s there to think about? You know I’m right. I assume you still have a tux?”

  “Buried in the back of my closet, where I like it.”

  “Dig it out for just this one night. And I’ll wear something appropriately provocative.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask what that means.”

  She merely smiled. “The invitation says eight. We’ll arrive no earlier than nine thirty. Parking will be a nightmare, so leave your car at my house and we’ll walk over together. It’ll be so much easier than dealing with the valet service.”

  “You’ve got this all planned out, I see.”

  “Yes. All you have to do is show up on time.” She stood to leave.

  “Arden?”

  She paused at the door.

  “This surprise you’re planning for your grandfather... You’re not going to catch me off guard, too, are you?”

  “You worry too much. It’ll be a fun night. You’ll see.”

  “Famous last words,” he muttered.

  * * *

  ARDEN SPENT SATURDAY morning running errands. She picked up her dress at the dry cleaners and then dropped off her favorite necklace at a jewelry shop to have the clasp replaced. While she waited for the repair, she window-shopped along King Street, browsing some of the high-end boutiques to kill time. A crystal-studded belt in a window caught her eye, and she wandered in to check the price. A candle flickered on the counter next to the photograph of a young blonde woman whom Arden recognized as Haley Cooper.

  The smiling countenance of the murder victim shocked her. She couldn’t seem to get away from the horror. Then she remembered reading somewhere that Haley Cooper had worked in a shop on King Street.

  She found the belt and decided the accessory would go so well with her gown that the splurge would be worth it. Plus, the purchase gave her the opportunity to speak with the woman behind the counter. As she rang up the item, Arden nodded to the photograph. “That’s Haley, isn’t it?”

  The woman glanced up in surprise. “Did you know her?”

  “No. I just recognize her photo from the news.”

  The woman gave her a grim smile. “At least you called her by name. Most of the people who comment on the photo ask if she’s the dead woman. It’s so impersonal to them. Just a news item or a crime statistic. They forget that Haley was a human being with friends and family who still miss her terribly.” She bit her lip. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I dumped all that on you. The last two weeks have been difficult.”

  “No apology necessary. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger,” Arden said with genuine sympathy. “Were the two of you close?”

  “We became good friends after she started working here last year. She had a great personality. Funny. Smart. She was good with the customers, too.” The woman hesitated, as if she wanted to resist but needed to get it all out. She busied her hands with tissue paper. “I know it must seem macabre that I have her photograph on display, but it’s my shop. I can do what I want.”

  “Of course. And I don’t think it’s macabre at all,” Arden said. “You’re paying tribute to your friend.”

  “Yes, that. And I also promised myself I’d keep that candle burning until her killer is brought to justice. But, after two weeks, I’m starting to lose hope.”

  “I understand better than you think,” Arden said. “My mother was murdered. Months went by before an arrest was made. I was young, but I remember the toll it took on my grandmother.”

  The woman’s voice softened. “I’m so sorry. What a terrible thing to have happen to you.”

  Arden nodded. “It was a long time ago. But you don’t forget.” She paused. “Do you know if the police have any suspects?”

  The woman carefully folded the tissue paper around the belt and secured it with a gold-embossed sticker. “They have a suspect. Who knows if anything will come of it?”

  Arden tried to keep her tone soothingly neutral. “Do you know who it is?”

  The woman took a quick perusal of the shop. A sales associate was busy with another customer at the clearance rack, too far away to overhear. The owner dropped her voice anyway. “You know what they say. It’s always the spouse or boyfriend.”

  Arden lifted a brow.
“Haley was seeing someone?”

  “Yes. I never met him and she wouldn’t say much about him. I had the impression he was an older man with money. That would have impressed Haley. She liked nice things.”

  “She never mentioned a name?”

  “She was always careful not to let anything slip. She said he would be very upset if he knew she had mentioned him at all. He guarded his privacy. That didn’t always sit well with Haley. She was young and she liked to go out. She wanted to be wined and dined.”

  “I heard on the news that she’d gone out to meet someone on the night of the murder. Do you think she met this man?”

  The woman shrugged. “It’s possible. But I know they had a falling-out a few days before it happened. Haley was seeing someone on the side, but I never got the impression it was romantic. If anything, I think she was trying to spite the older guy.”

  “Then that would make two suspects,” Arden said.

  The owner looked as if she wanted to comment further, but three young women came into the shop talking and laughing and drawing her attention. She placed the belt and receipt in a glossy black bag and handed Arden the purchase.

  “Enjoy the belt. I’m sure it will look lovely on you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Arden walked out of the boutique and glanced around. Her uncle’s studio was just up the block. She wondered if she should stop by and warn him about the greenhouse. No, he was probably busy and she’d be seeing him later that night anyway. She realized she was avoiding him and she wasn’t sure why. He’d been nothing but cordial and welcoming, and yet she sensed that he, too, had an ulterior motive for his interest in her.