Everyone Has Secrets

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Everyone Has Secrets Page 6

by Edward Kendrick


  “You could have gone to the police when the job was over.”

  “To what end? First off, I didn’t get back to the city until almost three months later. I found Mr. Big, delivered the package, and then spent the rest of the time gathering enough evidence on him to bring down him and his organization. Something I had to do out there, not here.”

  “Then chances are they aren’t the ones responsible for Kyler going off the balcony,” I said.

  Gavin winced at my choice of words, replying, “I don’t see what it would gain them. All they knew about him was the fact I had planned on using him as a cover, to make my trip look legitimate to anyone who might have questioned it. He died before that could happen.”

  “Then we’re back to square one,” Lorne said forlornly.

  “Not necessarily.” I drummed my fingers on the arm of the chair. “Two things. First, Gavin, before you met Kyler were you in a relationship with anyone?”

  “No. Well, nothing serious. There were a couple of men I saw, on and off, but that’s it. If you’re thinking one of them might have been jealous and decided to get Kyler out of my life…” He shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

  “Okay. For now we’ll take your word for it. The second thing is, do you have any idea what this photo assignment was that Kyler took on?”

  “No. Other than the fact it wasn’t one he had to do immediately. As I said, he told me our trip wouldn’t affect it.”

  I turned to Lorne. “You knew your brother best. Do you have any idea who he might have been working for?”

  “I can give you a few names of magazines and news organizations he was with in the past. But, since he was freelance, he could have been hired by a new one.”

  “Make a list. It’ll give us a start.”

  Gavin said, “You think whatever the assignment was, someone might have wanted to stop it?”

  “He did a lot of investigative photo stories,” Lorne told him. “Maybe this was going to be something like that.”

  Gavin nodded. “He told me. He got a kick out of doing them, to hear him talk.”

  “It went hand in hand with his thing for spy movies,” Lorne said with a trace of a smile. “Kyler Reynell, undercover agent. Not that he really thought he was. He was only doing a job. Taking pictures of people involved in things they’d rather not see on the front page of the paper.”

  “It would make for great blackmail info,” I said wryly. I should know. I’ve taken photos of men in compromising positions myself—and not ones of them in bed with someone else’s wife. Well, not more than once or twice.

  “He would never stoop that low,” Lorne said angrily, shooting me a dirty look. He got a confirming nod from Gavin.

  “I wasn’t implying he would. I was only making a comment.” I finished my coffee, set the cup down, and said, “At this point, we’ve come up with a few reasons someone might have killed him, and decided none of them are viable—other than that it might have had something to do with his recent assignment. Right?”

  “I agree,” Gavin replied. “The problem is, how do we find out who hired him?”

  “At this late date, it might be impossible.”

  “Not if it’s one of the people he worked with before,” Lorne said. “I’ll put together the list.”

  “I can talk to them once you have.” Gavin smiled cynically. “There are advantages to working for the government. Honest people tend to open up me because they have nothing to hide, so they’re not afraid of any consequences.”

  I snorted, saying, “One can hope that’s true,” and got up. “Until you contact them, we’re at a standstill. We might be anyway, if it wasn’t one of them who hired Kyler. For now, let’s call it a night.”

  “It was good meeting you, Lorne,” Gavin said as he and Lorne stood.

  “I just wish—” Lorne started to say

  “That it had happened before Kyler died? So do I, Lorne. So do I.” Gavin gave him a fast hug, then walked us to the door. “I’ll call you in the morning,” he said, looking pointedly at me.

  “It would help if you had my number.”

  “All ready do. You forget who I work for.” There was something in the tone of his voice that said I’d better not forget. I ignored it, hoping I was wrong.

  Chapter 6

  “There’s a Mr. Wilmer on the phone,” Dora said Tuesday morning.

  I was tempted to ask her to tell him I was out of the office, but figured he’d just keep trying. Or worse yet, come by. So I answered.

  “We need to talk,” Gavin said.

  “I’m listening.”

  “In person. When do you close for the day?”

  I told him to wait and then checked my schedule. I had one client due in half an hour and a few calls to make. Getting back to him, I said, “I’ll be finished by eleven-thirty.”

  “Banker’s hours and then some.” I could hear a trace of amusement in his voice. “I’ll meet you at your place at noon.”

  “No you won’t,” I replied tersely. “Choose somewhere more public.”

  “All right.” He paused for a moment. “The art museum. I’ll meet you at the front entrance.”

  “What’s this about?”

  “I’ll tell you when we meet. And Brant, please don’t be late. I hate waiting.” With that said, Gavin hung up.

  At least he said please. Not that it was much consolation. I left the office at eleven-thirty on the dot, asking Dora to lock up. “And don’t forget to—”

  “Set the alarm. You say that every time.” She sounded disgusted, but her smile told me she really wasn’t.

  I arrived at the museum on time, to find Gavin pacing in front of it. He nodded when he saw me, I joined him, and we went inside.

  “Let’s go to the textile art gallery. It’s usually fairly empty,” Gavin said, heading to the elevators.

  “You’re a frequent visitor here I take it.”

  “Not frequent,” he said, “but often enough I know the layout.”

  We rode up to the fourth floor; he led the way to the gallery and suggested we sit on one of the benches well away from the security guard. Other than an older couple, and young woman who seemed enthralled by a quilt hanging on one of the walls, we were alone.

  “Okay, what’s on your mind?” I asked.

  “You. And how you can help me find Kyler’s killer.”

  “Not sure I can,” I replied. “I’m hardly a detective, or—” I smirked, “—an undercover agent.”

  “I beg to differ,” Gavin said. “You’re very good at finding information. In fact, it’s how you make your living.”

  I shrugged. “As a financial planner I have to watch the markets and make decisions—”

  “Drop it, Brant. Yeah, that’s your cover, and from what I’ve learned you actually know what you’re doing. But that’s not really who you are.”

  “Exactly what are you implying?” I said angrily. Feigned, of course. But not entirely. Did he really know more about me than I’d like?

  “Franklin Saunders, Dan Morgan. That’s just for starters.” He was watching me intently as he rattled off their names. “Not nice men, I’ll agree. And you hit them where it hurts. Especially Morgan since I’m dead sure you’re the one who turned information about him and his cronies over to the police. Before you try to deny it—don’t. I’ve done my homework. You’re a blackmailer of the first order. One of the best I’ve come across.”

  “Me?” I smiled with amusement that I damned sure didn’t feel. “If you believe that, why haven’t you arrested me?” I wanted to ask who else knew, but I had a strong feeling that at this point he was the only one. Well, other than my victims.

  “Because you’ll be more useful to me if you’re not behind bars. I want Kyler’s killer, and if I can persuade you to work with me that might happen.” He chuckled. “Call it a form of blackmail on my part. Work with me, I don’t turn over what I have on you to my superiors.”

  After a long moment, while I thought of the potential
consequences if I didn’t agree to help, I asked, “Exactly what do you have in mind?”

  He took a deep breath before admitting, “I don’t really have a set plan. I probably won’t until Lorne gives me the list of who Kyler usually worked for. Once we have that, we can find out who hired him right before his death, and what the assignment was.”

  “Presuming it was one of his regulars,” I pointed out.

  “Yeah, I know. If it wasn’t, we’re back to square one.”

  “Are you planning on keeping Lorne in the dark about what we’re doing?”

  Gavin frowned. “I haven’t decided. Having him get us the list has probably clued him in.”

  “Probably.” I leaned back, looking at him. “How did you come to the conclusion I’m a blackmailer? Hell, you’ve only known me since yesterday.”

  “Known you? Yes. Known about you? I have since you appeared on my radar seven months ago, when I first went undercover at the club. I’m sure you remember a certain Paul Nolan.”

  I did. He was one of my clients and quite well-off. When he told me he was gay, I suggested he might want to join the club, since he could well afford it. He did and seemed happy to be there. Then, one evening, I found out that the home of a member I’d seen leave with Nolan the previous night had been robbed. Normally I wouldn’t have thought anything about it. After all, shit happens. Then, a week later, another member’s home was broken into. When it happened a third time, and again I saw the victim leaving with Nolan, I began to put two-and-two together. So I decided to see if I was right. A few nights later, Nolan hooked up with someone while I was at the club. I knew the man in question, having been to his place a couple of times. So I staked out his home, caught the burglar in the act, and followed him when he left. Unsurprisingly, as far as I was concerned, he made contact with Nolan early the next morning.

  Nolan had a nice little racket going, so I decided to take my cut, after watching and photographing two more robberies and the perpetrator handing the goods over to Nolan. Nolan was not a happy camper, but he paid up, and paid again, and after the third time, he packed up and left town for parts unknown. Probably figured that was a better option than my draining him dry of all his profits from the robberies.

  The question was how Gavin found out. I asked him.

  “The club’s owners were fairly certain there was a connection between the robberies and the club,” he told me. “They asked for our help, and I was sent in undercover to find out if they were correct—as a regular member and using an alias. I was just homing in on Nolan when you took up with him. So I figured you might become the next victim. Instead, the robberies stopped. That raised some questions, so I did my due diligence as they say. Unfortunately, I found no proof of my suspicions.”

  “I would hope not,” I replied dryly.

  “No proof, but definitely a lot of questions. Especially when an examination of Nolan’s secret bank account showed several large withdrawals.”

  I didn’t question how he’d managed that. After all, he was a government agent.

  “When the cops were given the info on Morgan, and arrested him,” Gavin continued, “he claimed it was all a lie made up by someone who had tried to blackmail him. He said, and I quote—more or less—‘The bastard made me give him the security codes to the shop. Said if I did that, he’d give me the so-called evidence he had on me. What choice did I have? It would have ruined me’.”

  “So of course, you thought of me.”

  “I did, after I saw the shop’s security camera had caught his ‘visitor’ coming out of the office. You did a good job of disguising yourself, but I knew what you looked like and there was definitely a resemblance despite the mustache and blue eyes, and the hat shadowing the top of your face. Again, I had no real proof it was you.” He looked at me with a touch of admiration. “You’re good.”

  “I suppose, if I am what you’re implying, I’d have to be, wouldn’t I?”

  “Oh, you are, Brant. You know it, and after the Saunders episode, so do I. Believe me, I’ve been keeping my eye on you. Saunders may be a first-class bastard, but he’s not stupid. He didn’t want you to keep blackmailing him, so he got in touch with us, and, after a guarantee of anonymity, told us what had happened. Since the photos were taken at the club…” Gavin spread his hands and smiled.

  “And now,” I said sourly, “you’re going to blackmail me into helping you.”

  “Actually, no. I just wanted you to know where things stood. You can walk away and no one will be the wiser. I still don’t have the proof I need to arrest you. But, I think you’re as involved with this as I am, and you have skills that will come in very handy, once we find out who hired Kyler.”

  “You’re sure it has to do with his assignment?”

  He frowned. “Everything else is a dead end. We’ve already gone over that. It’s possible his death is related to a past assignment and someone wanted to punish him because he’d done a story about them. Or he was hired to do an investigative photo shoot about someone who was afraid of what he might find out in the process.”

  “Hang on a sec. We never talked about ones he did in the past. Did he ever discuss them with you?”

  “Of course. Not in detail. He said I might have seen photos—in such and such paper or a news magazine—that he’d taken.” He smiled. “There was one story he was very proud of. It was about a children’s home that was going to be shut down so the building could be turned into a fancy condo complex. His pictures of the kids and their lives at the home, compared to ones of comparable kids living on the streets, brought in enough support to keep the home open and upgrade it, too.”

  “He sounds like a good man, but then I already figured he was.”

  “Very much so. When he died…” Gavin took a deep breath. “The world lost someone special when that happened. I intend to find out who was responsible.”

  “With my help, freely given,” I replied. “Let me call Lorne to see if he put together the list.”

  I did, and he had. I set up a meeting at Gavin’s house for seven that evening.

  * * * *

  I picked Lorne up, on the theory the fewer cars parked in Gavin’s driveway the better—especially on a Tuesday evening when it was doubtful he’d be throwing a party. Neither Gavin nor I wanted to bring attention to his place from the neighbors.

  “Let me see the list,” Gavin said the moment we were inside.

  “Hello to you, too,” Lorne replied with a brief smile, handing it to him.

  “Sorry,” Gavin muttered, already scanning the list. “All reputable publications,” he said when he finished.

  “Of course they are,” Lorne replied tartly. “Kyler wasn’t a muckraker. You know that.”

  “Yeah, I do. Let’s go into my office. I want to run them, to see if we can find out which one gave Kyler his last assignment.”

  As soon as we got there, Gavin booted up his computer then went online, while Lorne and I hovered on either side of him to see what he was doing. He was a decent hacker, but I was better, given the chance. He managed to get into the sites of three of the publications, all magazines which specialized in pretty pictures with no real depth as far as the stories behind them. None of them was the one we’re looking for. The sites of the fourth magazine on Lorne’s list, and the two news organizations, were very well protected. Undoubtedly because they did some political exposé stories along with everything else.

  “If I were willing to hand this over to my people,” Gavin grumbled when he couldn’t bypass one of the protections on the magazine.

  “Let me try,” I suggested. Lorne glanced at me in surprise. “I had a friend a while back who was a hacker,” I explained. “During our brief relationship, I got him to teach me a few tricks.” I managed to say that without blinking an eye.

  Gavin shot me an amused look, ceding his chair to me. I had the feeling he figured it was as good an explanation as any to give an amateur like Lorne—and about as far from the truth as possible, since ha
cking wasn’t something you learn to do well with a couple of lessons.

  “If he was a hacker,” Lorne said, “why didn’t you turn him in?”

  I shrugged. “He wasn’t hurting anyone. It was a game to him, nothing more.”

  I got into where I needed to be with the magazine. There was no evidence they had hired Kyler within a month of his death. The same held true for one of the news organizations, once I finally got in. Then I hit pay dirt.

  “They gave him an assignment to do a photo shoot about a man by the name of Oscar Durant. He owns the Rotunda Motels, a chain of small but very profitable ones around the country,” I commented as I tapped the screen. “According to this, Durant puts some of his earnings into supporting homeless shelters for runaway teens in several of the cities where the motels are located.” I made a list of the cities with both motels and the shelters he supported and printed it out.

  “Why does what it says there make you think there was more to the story Kyler was going to do? It could have been a piece about the good work Mr. Durant was doing,” Lorne said.

  “Pure supposition at this point, based on the fact the newspaper is known for doing exposés,” I told him. “Let’s suppose…What if Durant uses his connection with the shelters to find kids to work in the sex trade, using his motels as his bases of operations for that. Yeah, I know, it’s a big jump, but possible?” I looked at him and Gavin.

  Gavin tapped his fingers together, nodding slowly. “Definitely possible, especially if Kyler planned on going in undercover.”

 

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