Candace McCauley, P.I Mysteries (5 Cozy Mystery Books Collection)

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Candace McCauley, P.I Mysteries (5 Cozy Mystery Books Collection) Page 12

by Kira Reese


  “I won’t take up too much of your time, Mr. Butler. I realize you are a busy man.” I paused just long enough to let that sink in. “My question is, why did you and Thornton break your partnership? I looked into the early part of the endeavor, and things were going better than good when you pulled out.”

  “It’s like I told you. I wanted to go off on my own. I wanted to be the boss of my goals and use my own methods to reach them. Thornton and I did not always agree on processes.”

  My eyes held his. “I see,” I said. I scribbled something incoherent in my notebook. I wanted him to be curious about what I was getting at. In truth, I did not need to take notes at all. My mind could accumulate a lot of facts in an orderly fashion until I could enter them into the computer.

  “I don’t believe you are telling me everything, Mr. Butler. Is there more to the dissolution than what you are telling me?”

  Steely eyes drilled me. Behind them, there was something unrevealed. If it could be said that James Butler relaxed, he bordered on letting his guard down. I waited.

  “Thornton’s methods were not always on the up and up. He retained lawyers who knew how to play hardball. He could be ruthless. I didn’t like that way of doing business. The reason he had so many repeat customers was because his product was flawless. We had markets all over the world by the time I left him. I sold my part to him and have never looked back.”

  “Are you still friends with him?” I asked.

  His laugh was more like a snort. “We have seen very little of one another since then, though we do cross paths on occasion. The encounters are amiable enough.”

  “Other than Angelina’s greed, is there another reason she may want her father to disappear?”

  “He taught his daughter everything about the business, and she was right in there sometimes when he dealt dirty. She thrived on that ruthlessness. She wants not only his money, but to take over the business.” My look spoke volumes. “Don’t think she is fragile,” he said. “She is just like her father.”

  After James Butler left my office I entered the information he gave me word by word. I did not strike him off the suspect list but now added a second one—the daughter of the shipping tycoon, Angelina Grey Thomason. As if the two of us had mental telepathy, she was on hold waiting for me to pick up.

  “Candace, I do hope I have not caught you at a bad time,” said the whispery voice. “I would like to meet with you today, if possible.”

  We agreed on two that afternoon. By that time, I expected Natalie to be back in the office to take care of calls. I dismissed any notions of information my client may want to divulge. There was no sense in trying to figure it out until she arrived. I went over everything James Butler told me. Along with his words, I recalled his every facial expression as well as other physical signs. He certainly was a controlled man.

  During my lunch hour, I placed the closed sign on the door and retrieved a salad I brought from home from the small refrigerator. I made a mental note to get one for Natalie when she finally moved into her own office. While sipping from the cold bottle of water, I let my thoughts wander to the cases on hand. I called my friend Lisa at the unemployment office and told her what kind of person I needed part-time for the front. She assured me she had the perfect person. A woman, age forty-five, was looking for part-time work. She was raising a teenage son by herself, and her alimony and child support were sporadic, at the least. She could use extra money.

  “Does she have experience in how to greet people?” I asked then listed a few more qualities I was looking for.

  “Evelyn Foster is friendly, efficient and soft-spoken. She worked in a lawyer’s office downtown for several years as a receptionist. When her divorce was finalized she opted to stay home and raise her son. He was six at the time, and he is now fifteen. I think she would be someone who would fit in well in your business. She understands confidentiality very well.”

  That was all I needed to know for now. I told Lisa to ask her to come in the next morning for an interview. I wanted Natalie there to give her impression. She would be the one training her if I decided to hire Evelyn.

  Natalie walked in at one-fifteen, and after we discussed her mother’s state of health and other family matters, I clued her in to the morning’s happenings. I told her about the interview coming up with Evelyn Foster the next morning. She glanced toward her office-to-be, and her mouth curved upward.

  “Thank you, Candy. I know you won’t be disappointed in my work. I really am happy you are promoting me.”

  “You’re welcome. I know you will do well, and with the caseload increasing, I can really use you in that niche. I would like for you to take at least two or three days training Evelyn if I hire her. I would like to have her here three full days a week. Since Mondays and Tuesdays seem to be quite busy, those would be two of the days and possibly Thursdays.”

  Natalie nodded her head in agreement. We got back to our desks, and I waited for Angelina to breeze in. Only this time, she did not seem as breezy as before.

  I closed my office door and the lithe frame lowered to the comfortable chair away from my desk. I sat opposite her. This cozy corner was something I set up to put clients at ease once I took on their cases. A small antique lamp positioned on the cherry table added ambiance. Its soft glow enhanced the beauty of the woman across from me.

  “I may have found a lead for you to work on,” she said. “I remembered Victoria’s last name. She is still in New York City and not back in Canada.” She handed me the note with Victoria Hahn’s name on it. “She has been working as a secretary in Jim Butler’s office, or one of them. It is downtown on Fifth Avenue. I have the main phone number, as well.”

  “What part do you think she has in your father’s disappearance?” I asked.

  “She has found work and is staying in America. At the same time, she is still stalking him. I know that part because my father mentioned it to me that he could not seem to get it across to Victoria that he was no longer interested in her. She was far from happy about that.” She paused. “I never will understand why my father has to have someone old enough to be his daughter on his arm. They get younger every time.” Her tone edged with sarcasm, and maybe jealousy?

  We chatted a few more minutes about possibilities of where her father could be, all of which we had discussed several times before. She set the cold glass of water down after taking a last drink of it and stood to go. Her eyes looked hopeful.

  “You have to find out what happened to him, Candace. My life will not go on if he is lost to me forever.”

  The last whiff of Chanel 5 perfume lingered in my office, and I looked at the name and number Angelina had left for me. I had no idea how Victoria Hahn connected to the disappearance of Thornton Grey. I found it interesting she worked for James Butler. Could the two of them have done something to him? If so, what was their purpose?

  I needed to get inside Thornton Grey’s home. His computers must have clues needed to solve this case. The only person I could think of to allow this to happen was the victim’s daughter. I did not have a good enough reason at this point to ask Detective Ben Johnson to get a search warrant for me. There was still the possibility that Thornton had simply decided to vanish for reasons of his own.

  When Nick and I sat across from one another at the bistro table on our patio, I told him about the progression of the Grey case. “I do find it a little odd that Victoria works for James Butler. I believe James has something he is holding back on. I still am not satisfied with exactly why he left the partnership with Thornton.”

  Nick leaned back and forked a small chunk of the last bit of steak. He chewed slowly, and I knew wheels turned in his head.

  “There could have been something illegal going on. If Thornton is ruthless in business, maybe he went a step further than James was comfortable with. He could have withdrawn to save himself from any criminal activity.”

  “You are brilliant,” I said. “If Thornton fears the law is getting too close to his
unorthodox activities, then that would give him a good reason to vanish. It is time for me to come right out and ask Angelina about how her father does business.”

  “James may have the answer, too,” said Nick. “I already know how brilliant I am, but thanks for the reminder, anyway.” He stood and kissed me on the lips. Tastes of steak remnants and blue cheese dressing mingled. Warmth shot through me. “I may even help clear our dinner table for that compliment.”

  I laughed. This was nothing new. We always took care of menial tasks together to speed the common and necessary jobs along. While we cleaned up the dishes, I told Nick about the interview the next morning with Evelyn Foster. His encouragement had brought me to this point. There were times I wondered if I had gotten into the wrong field when it seemed the business would never get off the ground. Nick’s answer was always to give it time. Again, he was right.

  While Nick worked a short time at his computer, thoughts of everything I’d discovered so far in this case swirled through my mind. Nothing pointed the finger at my client to tell me she held responsibility for her father’s disappearance.

  As for James Butler, he possessed a reason. From what I learned from him, he had good reason to leave the partnership. A deep grudge may have settled within him. Then I thought of his successful business. He was not a stupid man, so doubt that he harmed Thornton remained remote. Why risk his own success?

  Chapter 6

  Life of Victim

  A petite woman approximately five-foot-one entered the door right on time. Natalie produced a winning smile and greeting. Evelyn Foster asked to see me and was ushered into my office. I extended my hand to the forty-five-year-old. She was well-groomed and not overly dressed but wore clothes appropriate for a job interview. We settled in my cozy corner. I offered her a choice of soft drinks, coffee, tea or water. She accepted a diet coke, which I poured into a glass without ice, at her request. Her trim figure and manicured nails told me she took care of herself. Dark brown, almost black eyes lit like fireflies in the night. I liked her animated facial features. After telling her what I expected in an employee and her duties, she agreed to work eight-hour days, three days a week. I accompanied her to Natalie’s desk.

  “I’m having Natalie move into her own office when you are here. She also works on some of the cases. I will leave it up to the two of you to work out the training times. As soon as you are ready to start, you are hired.”

  She thanked me and I looked back at the two black-haired women bending over a folder. One had tinges of grey and the other had hair black as night. Sunrays beaming through the window shined on both heads. I remembered I had a phone call to make.

  “Angelina, I want to ask you some things about your father’s business,” I said. “Specifically, I need to know his general methods of doing business.”

  A pause I felt too long ensued. “I’m not sure I can tell you every detail. He is a hard man when it comes to difficult clients. There are a few of those, as can be expected. They are mostly people he deals with out of America.”

  “Does he have any difficult ones in this country or in New York specifically?” I felt I needed to keep emphasizing the word specific. I wanted details necessary to solving the case of his disappearance. I was in no mood to chitchat.

  “I can think of a few, but they are repeat clients, so they must work things out or they wouldn’t return to him.” Again, there was a loaded pause. “You may want to ask Jim Butler. He may have more information than I would about anyone in particular.”

  “I have talked twice with Mr. Butler. Frankly, he thinks you knew everything about your father’s business and wants to take it over.” This should give her fodder for thought. The effect was more than I expected.

  “He thinks that? After all he and my father went through when Jim decided to dissolve the partnership? He has his nerve saying something like that. He was deeper into transactions than I ever was. Of course, I knew some of what went on. My father did discuss matters with me on occasion. But for Jim to say I wanted to take over the business tells me he is pointing his finger at me in my father’s disappearance.”

  I leaned back and allowed the ranting to continue. Information continued to spew across the wire. By the time the call ended, I was convinced Angelina Thomason and James Butler were at odds with one another. Clearly, antagonism simmered between the two. I called her back.

  “I have one more question, Angelina. Is there a way I can get into your father’s house and take a look at his computers?”

  She did not hesitate. “Tell me when you want to go in, and I’ll meet you out on Long Island Sound.”

  We set a time for the next morning. Now I was getting somewhere. I would ask for access to his main office when I saw her at the tycoon’s home.

  We arrived ten minutes apart. Thankfully, she got there before I did. When I parked my car she and Raymond turned in my direction. I walked toward them, and Raymond disappeared around the corner of the mansion. At least I did not have to deal with him again, I thought.

  Entering the immense foyer, I was astonished at the décor, which included original paintings by famous artists. I followed Angelina through the large sitting room and into the dining room. The mahogany table was long enough to seat at least twenty people. Two large matching buffets were against opposite walls, where more artwork hung.

  “It looks as if your father appreciates excellent works of art,” I said.

  “Yes, he does. He has traveled throughout Europe to procure most of his pieces.”

  We arrived at a large sunny office. The desk, like the rest of the home and its furnishings, was immense. There was also no clutter on it.

  “Does your father always keep his study this neat?” I asked.

  “He does not,” said Angelina. “He has a secretary who comes to the home when he is here, and she takes care of putting things in order for him.” She gestured toward two computers. One was to the right of his desk, and the other one was behind another smaller desk I supposed was used by his secretary. “Help yourself to whatever you need to find in the computers.”

  She knew the passwords off the top of her head. “What is the secretary’s name?” I asked. Her soft melodious laugh reached me with a start when she motioned to herself. “You are his secretary?”

  “I help him keep things straight when he works here. Sometimes he works several days and then calls me in to get it all in order for him. I keep track well enough. I enter stuff into the computer for him when he is finished here. It gets sent automatically to his office where someone else takes it from there.”

  Angelina sounded careless in telling me her role in her father’s business. Her part seared deeper than what she was telling me. I sat down in front of her father’s device first.

  I knew computers well and had no problems from beginning to end with them. Finding hidden information came naturally to me. I delved into the bottom line of dealings with one of his clients. I picked this one at random, and when I read everything I found these two had an ongoing relationship. The client had bought two large yachts from Thornton in the past year. I found nothing sinister in the dealings and moved on to locate clients in nearby New York City. Angelina had left me to my own searching. After an hour, I realized if anything amiss was going on in Thornton Grey’s dealings with others, I would not find it in these computers.

  I closed the laptop and stood just as Angelina came back in. She offered me a tall glass of iced tea with a lemon on the side. The two glasses touched briefly when she handed it to me. The soft clinking sound told me they were pure crystal.

  “Were you able to find anything helpful?” she asked me.

  Though she already knew there was nothing in these computers that would help solve the case, I said, “Not yet. Would it be possible for me to take his laptop?”

  “I suppose it is all right, as long as it doesn’t go beyond your possession.”

  Her candid attitude told me I would find nothing. My request did not seem to faze her. This
meant either she was innocent of her father’s whereabouts or she had made sure nothing incriminating was in the computers.

  “Who is paying his bills?” I asked. “I can see Raymond and his crew handle the property.”

  “I suppose someone in his office is doing that. I only know they are being taken care of. I stopped there the other day and went through his mail. There was nothing overdue in the pile.”

  “I would like to see his office and speak with some of his employees there, if possible.”

  Again, her attitude was open, and I followed her to the large seven-story office building. Two floors were owned by Thornton Grey. His private office and adjoining personal quarters were in the penthouse. This family had wealth beyond my most vivid imagination. I couldn’t figure out how Angelina wanted more if James Butler told the truth. She already had more than possible in her life. Surely her father did not take all of this for himself. It made sense how younger women went for someone with these riches.

  Angelina stopped and introduced me to the receptionist, Mary Block. I noted the two were friendly. Mary did not appear to offer a sympathetic look toward Angelina. It was possible no one on her level knew he was missing. We walked down a wide hallway to the suite Thornton conducted business in. Opulence surrounded me.

  “How often is your father in this office?”

  “Recently, he geared down quite a bit. He still worked at home for the most part, since everything is connected that way. He wanted to retire completely, but I doubt he really planned to do that,” said Angelina. I took note that she now spoke in the past tense. “I just want to know where he is. I still believe something sinister has happened to him. It’s been several weeks, and I still don’t know where he is.”

  Her eyes misted until they overflowed. Her shoulders shook, and she turned away from me. We sat down on the brown leather couch at one end of the office. I put my arm around her shoulders as her tears began to flow. While she cried, I watched her closely. The tears and grief were genuine. Her words were muffled when she pled for me to find him. I knew I had to.

 

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