“Were they all taken before or after you found Bernard Butler’s body?” Nick asked. I started to open my mouth and ask why, but he interrupted. “Think about it carefully,” he said.
“Before,” I finally said. “Why is that important?”
My question went unanswered. Nick was in full cop mode, and there was nothing I could do to get him to share his thoughts with me.
“I can’t believe someone would do this,” I said.
“Not just someone, Addison, but more than likely the murderer.”
“I keep thinking about Robbie Butler and his reaction to me during his brother’s funeral. There’s no way I misread those looks he was giving me. He hates me for some reason, and he certainly knows his way around the church.”
I was also thinking about the first photograph I’d received. The one my principal had taken of me on stage at The Foxy Lady. Could Robbie Butler have killed his own brother? I looked out the window and noticed the sun was shining for once, but it didn’t make me feel better.
“You’ve read my mind,” Nick said. “Robbie Butler is definitely a person of interest in this investigation. But you need to let me handle this. I want you to go stay with Kate.”
For the first time since we’d opened the package I noticed the fine tremors of anger radiating from Nick’s body. There was nothing in the world that would make me miss Nick confronting Robbie Butler.
“I don’t think so,” I said and grabbed my bag.
“Fine, but let me do the talking.”
I wasn’t going to argue. I was more than happy to let someone more competent than I was be in charge.
Robbie Butler lived in a town home just south of the historic district in downtown Savannah. Each building housed two units. Red geraniums were planted along the sidewalk that led to Robbie’s front door and huge elm trees lined the street. Nick parked his truck at the curb and I hopped out with all the enthusiasm of Marie Antoinette heading towards the guillotine.
“Nice place,” I said, knowing the rent in this area was astronomical.
“Yeah, the youngest Butler is an investment banker. The other unit in his building was occupied by his oldest brother.”
“Mr. Butler lived here? My principal?” I asked, surprised. “Maybe I need to check into becoming a principal.”
The curtains in the front room fluttered and I knew we’d been spotted. Nick rang the doorbell and rapped on the door twice, and when Robbie Butler answered the door I had a hard time connecting the image I’d seen at the funeral to the one standing in front of me. He was dressed in torn jeans and a t-shirt that looked like he’d been sleeping in it. Days old stains littered the front of his shirt—ketchup, whole grain mustard, pickle relish and grape jelly. It must have been a hell of a sandwich. My lip curled involuntarily at the yellow stains under his armpits, and my eyes watered at the stench emanating off his body. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face gaunt, and he hadn’t seen a razor since the funeral. The only thing that was recognizable was the belligerent hostility etched on his face.
“Robbie Butler?” Nick asked.
“Yeah. What do you want?” He addressed his question to me, and it was obvious he still thought of me as the woman who caused his brother to die.
“I’m Detective Dempsey with the Savannah PD. I’ve been investigating your brother’s death.”
“His murder, you mean,” Robbie interjected.
“Yes. I need to ask you a few questions.”
“I’ve already talked to the police. The person you need to question is standing right beside you, but it’s pretty obvious she’s wormed her way into your bed too.”
I could feel myself turning red. What was it that made people think that Nick and I were already sleeping together?
“We can do this here or I can take you down to the station,” Nick said. “It’s up to you.”
We waited patiently while Robbie made up his mind. He finally stepped back. “Fine, but make it quick. I’ve got things to do today.”
He left us standing in the entryway while he sat down in his recliner and flipped on the T.V. Nick walked around, past crumpled beer cans and empty pizza boxes, looking at family photographs and other things lying around. I’d never been in an investment banker’s home, but I couldn’t imagine that most of them looked like this one on the inside. I stayed back at the door out of Robbie’s sight in hopes it would make him a little more cooperative.
“Can you tell me your whereabouts for yesterday morning between ten and eleven o’clock in the morning?” Nick finally asked.
“I was here,” Robbie said, his eyes never leaving the T.V. “I haven’t been out of the house since the funeral.”
“Huh, that’s strange because someone has been leaving photographs of Ms. Holmes here taped to her door and she’s been getting some threatening phone calls. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“Nope. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He was either a really good poker player or he was telling the truth. Then I noticed his white knuckled grip on the T.V. remote.
“So it’s just a coincidence that one of her neighbors saw you in the building late at night twice this past week.”
This was the first I’d heard of this. I guess Nick had meant it when he said he’d take care of things.
Robbie finally turned his head and looked at Nick. “If she’s getting photographs and phone calls it’s probably because she deserves them. It wasn’t me. Do I need to call my lawyer?”
“Only if you think you need to,” Nick answered. “You see, Robbie, I have enough on suspicion to bring you in for formal questioning. We have neighbors who can describe you, and you don’t have an alibi during the time of a murder. It all seems pretty suspicious to me.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Robbie asked. “What murder?” He finally turned off the television and gave Nick his full attention.
“Let me tell you what I think, Robbie.” Nick’s voice was as soft and smooth as ever. It reminded me of the first time we’d met, when he’d questioned me in the same patient way. “I think you’re fixated on Ms. Holmes. I don’t know why and I don’t care, but stalking can be a felony in the state of Georgia. I think you’ve been following her and photographing her, and yesterday you followed her to the Catholic church where your brother’s funeral was held and took some pictures of Ms. Holmes doing some very private things in the crypt. Were you planning on blackmailing her?” Nick didn’t give Robbie a chance to answer, but instead went in for the kill. “And then do you know what I think, Robbie? I think you stumbled across someone who caught you in the act, and you shot him in cold blood. How does that sound to you? Pretty accurate?”
Robbie whirled around and faced me, a look of absolute horror on his face. “You were having sex in a church?” he asked.
“I was not having sex!” I yelled. “Why doesn’t anyone believe me? And besides, I wasn’t in the church. I was in the crypt.”
Robbie crossed himself. “I’ll never understand what Bernie saw in you. He loved you, and you flaunted yourself in front of other men. It drove him crazy the way men always flocked to you.”
“Are you sure you’re talking about me?” I asked. “Because I think I’d remember if men were flocking. Usually the men in my life flock to other women. It seems to be a theme.”
“It’s not funny. He’s dead because of you. You lured him to that place and someone killed him. Probably another of your jealous boyfriends.” Robbie was openly crying now, and I felt a little sorry for him.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know where you got the impression that Mr. Butler and I were anything more than acquaintances, but that’s really all we were. It was as big a surprise to see him at The Foxy Lady as it was for him to see me.”
“I don’t believe you.” Robbie crumpled to a heap in his chair and sobbed. “It was all in his diary. He had details of all the things you did sexually. He had dozens and dozens of pictures of you. How coul
d you say you weren’t close? He was in love with you.”
Nick took over at that point because I was trying to deal with the fact that my principal had been stalking me for months and I’d never caught on. How could I be that clueless?
“And so you found your brother’s diary and the pictures of Ms. Holmes and you sent them to her because you blamed her for your brother’s death.”
“Yes,” he said, barely audible. “I wanted her to see what she looked like through another’s eyes. How she should be ashamed for the way she acts and dresses.”
“And did you kill a man in cold blood because of your own obsession with Ms. Holmes?”
“No, no, I swear,” Robbie said. He got up and paced the floor, agitated. “And I didn’t make any phone calls either. I taped one photograph to her car window and I left a manila envelope full of pictures at her apartment a couple of times. Those were all of them. I don’t have any more. And maybe I followed her around some, but it was just so I could prove that she really was responsible for Bernie’s death. I’ll take a lie detector or do whatever, but I swear I didn’t kill anyone.”
Nick looked at me, and I looked at the pitiful man that was back to sobbing in his recliner. I knew Nick was waiting for me to decide how I wanted to proceed. I didn’t really want to press charges against someone who was obviously having a difficult time dealing with the death of a loved one.
“I won’t press charges against you if you can promise that you’ll leave me alone,” I finally told him.
“I told you I already gave you all the pictures. As far as I’m concerned I never want to see you again.”
“As far as the murder goes,” Nick said. “I suggest you find someone who can verify you were at home yesterday. I don’t suppose you still have your brother’s diary, do you?
Robbie shook his head. “I burned it in the grill on my patio. I couldn’t take the chance that anyone else would see it.”
“Convenient,” Nick said. “I don’t suppose you’d mind if I took a look at your grill.”
“I don’t care. Just leave me alone,” Robbie said.
“Mr. Butler,” Nick said, his voice serious and expression grave. He waited until Robbie looked him in the eye before speaking. “It might be a good idea to contact that attorney after all.”
Nick put his hand in the small of my back and led me out a set of French doors that opened onto a large deck in the back yard. The deck stretched across the length of both brothers’ houses, combining the two properties. They also shared a large swimming pool and an enormous stainless steel grill.
Nick pulled a pair of latex gloves from his pocket, slipped them on and lifted the grill lid. I stepped back as he pulled the grates out, one by one, and ash floated into the air.
“Is it in there?” I asked.
“There’s something in here.” He sifted through the ashes and held up a tiny piece of black leather inscribed with gold. “Bernard Ulysses Butler,” Nick read. “This must be what’s left of the famous diary.”
“God, I hope so.” I watched as Nick bagged the tiny piece of leather and a handful of ashes from the bottom of the grill. We left through the side gate, which was fine with me since I had no desire to ever run into Robbie Butler again.
“So what do you think?” I asked as we got back in his truck.
“I think he’s probably telling the truth, but I’m going to put a couple of plainclothes officers on surveillance out here. I don’t want him to leave town.”
Nick called in and requested the police surveillance on his cell phone.
“Come on, Jezebel,” Nick said. “I’ll buy you lunch and then I’ll help you out with that case you were having trouble with. I’ve got nothing better to do on my day off.”
“Gee, thanks. As long as you realize this doesn’t count as a date.”
We grabbed lunch at a Mexican restaurant before heading back to Whiskey Bayou. I was uncomfortably full of enchiladas and queso, and I knew it had been a mistake to take part in the all you can eat buffet. I was going to have to do a few sit ups once I could get my pants buttoned again.
“Tell me about this case you need help with,” Nick said.
“It’s not that I’m having trouble with it,” I said primly. “It’s just that I’m not exactly sure how to go about catching him in the act.”
“Is this another adulterer?” Nick asked.
“Insurance fraud. Eddie Pogue is his name. A real jackass.” I filled him in on the rest of the file while he drove.
I was a little uncomfortable in the silence that stretched between us. It was weird to sit next to a man that had seen me naked but left me unfulfilled. Of course, that pretty much described my entire relationship with Greg, but my brain kept telling me I hadn’t known Nick long enough to keep making reckless decisions. My body, however, was saying “Go For It.”
I sighed loudly and looked out the window as we turned onto Magnolia Street.
“What was that sigh for? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Oookay. You know, I have to say I don’t really believe you. I’ve been married before, and in my experience, when a woman says there’s nothing wrong it means you’re in deep shit.”
“You’ve been married before?” I asked, my voice only a tiny bit shrill at the news.
“Of course I’ve been married before. I’m thirty-two years old. Do you think I just hatched a week ago when we met for the first time? Besides, I’m a cop. We all get married at some point. It’s just staying married that seems to be the problem with most of us.”
I was surprised to find I was a little bit jealous of that nameless woman who had shared a life with Nick. My gloom intensified and I sighed again.
“Look, if you’re going to be all depressing I’m not going to help you out. I bet I know something we could do that will perk you up,” he said with a wink.
“I think that’s what’s depressing me, so no thanks.” I turned and faced him in defeat. “Did you love your wife?” I asked.
“Hell, Addison. Is this going to be one of those conversations?”
I rolled my eyes and sighed again. “You’re right of course. We barely know each other, and we certainly don’t have anything going on between us.”
“Like hell we don’t,” Nick said between gritted teeth. “I was married for about six months eleven years ago right after I got out of the Army. It was a mistake all around, and no hearts were broken. Is that good enough for you?”
“I told you, you don’t have to explain. I’m not looking for a relationship at the moment, so you can get that panicked look out of your eyes. And besides, you and I would never suit. The passion would never last and we’d end up killing each other. No, I couldn’t care less about your past. I’m just re-evaluating my life.”
Nick slammed the car into park and I could tell he’d like nothing more than to lean across the seat and throttle me. I gripped the door handle, preparing to escape, when he grabbed my arms, hauled me across the seat and kissed me.
“You drive me crazy,” he said, depositing me back in my seat. “But you’ll have to re-evaluate some other time because we’re here.”
I was still a little bemused by the kiss when I noticed that we were parked in an alleyway about a block away from Eddie Pogue’s address.
“Why are we so far away?”
“Because it’ll look more believable to the neighbors if people just see a nice looking couple out for a Sunday stroll. We don’t want to tip him off.”
“Oh, good idea.”
“I get one every now and then,” Nick said sarcastically. “You won’t need your camera today. We’re just going to canvass the area and see if we can get a clear shot into his house. We’ll come back another time and try to get it on film.”
I thought the plan through and felt better about catching Eddie Pogue than I had about anyone else. This was going to be smooth sailing. All I needed was a mentor. I’d hyped myself up pretty good until I realized what Nick was doing.
“Holy shit, Nick, we’re not going into the O.K. Corral. I thought we were just doing surveillance.”
I watched as he strapped on his shoulder holster and put a backup piece in the lower part of his back. Man, I was getting hot just watching him. I shuddered to think what would happen if I actually got to see him in uniform.
“The first rule is to blend in. The second rule is to be prepared.”
“Wait a minute. These are different from the rules Kate gave me. Is there a book I can buy with all this information?”
Nick smiled and grabbed my hand. “Come on, we’re just a happy couple strolling hand in hand down the street.”
“Get real. No one would ever believe we’re a happy couple.”
“What’ll be hard about it? Just look at me like I’m a god and drool a little like you usually do.”
I gave him the finger and made a mental note to myself to stop trying to picture him naked. He was obviously very adept at reading the female mind.
“Let’s go,” he said.
I followed at a less than enthusiastic pace, considering I was still full of Mexican food.
The alley was little more than gravel, and an eclectic mix of houses lined each side. There was a run down trailer on the corner, a ranch-style house next door and a two-story Colonial at the end of the block. This was truly a neighborhood for everyone. The good thing was that tall trees and overgrown shrubs ran the length of both sides of the alley, so there were plenty of good hiding places.
We stopped behind a modest, one story brick home with a good size back yard. A chain linked fence closed in the yard and an overgrown garden sat unattended in the middle of the lot. There was a detached garage at the back of the house and the skeleton of a storage building being constructed sat next to it. There were no cars in the garage.
“Can you believe this?” I said outraged. “How is it that John Hyatt will give a putz like Eddie Pogue a home loan, but he insists on giving me nothing but trouble?”
“Probably Eddie Pogue didn’t have to overcome Veronica Wade,” Nick said. “All right, time to act lovey-dovey.”
Whiskey Rebellion (Romantic Mystery/Comedy) Book 1 (Addison Holmes Mysteries) Page 15