by Lauren Carr
“Murder Investigation One-Oh-One,” Joshua said. “Start with the victim.” With his hand blocking the closing of the doors, he held open the elevator door for her to step on before him.
“Right now we don’t have a murder victim,” Cameron said. “We want to keep it that way.”
“Find out who will benefit the most with Tiffany Ambrose out of the way, and that path will lead you to your Dead Rose Killer.”
“Who, I guarantee will have a connection to Eddie Palmer,” she said.
The doors shut and the elevator began its climb to the top floor and Stan Frost’s suite of offices.
“Want to bet?” Joshua asked.
Intrigued, Cameron turned to him. “What do you want to bet?”
“Whether or not our killer has any connection to Eddie Palmer or not,” he said. “If I’m right and the killer has no connection, I win. If the killer does, you win.”
“And what do I win?” A naughty smile crossed her face as she rested her hand around his waist and moved in closer to him. She gazed up into his blue eyes.
He wrapped his arms around her. “Loser gets to be the winner’s love slave for one evening.”
“A bet where there’s no losers? I can get into that type of betting.” She pushed him up against the wall of the elevator and kissed him.
They were in a tight embrace when the elevator doors flew up. At the sound of a woman’s loud gasp, they parted and proceeded to straighten their coats.
A woman dressed in a severe looking gray business suit, which contrasted with her long blonde hair and dangerous looking high heels stepped onto the elevator. She clutched a leather binder to her chest. In spite of the humor that Cameron found in the interruption, the new passenger cast a firm glare upon the two of them. She tore her eyes from them to check the buttons for the floor. Her expression turned from chastising to shock. “You’re getting off at the twelfthth floor?”
“Yes.” Cameron smirked at the corporate blonde’s disbelief.
The business woman looked the detective up and down.
Cameron was not your average fast track employee in the world of hi-tech. “We have an appointment with Mr. Frost.” The detective opened her jacket to give her a glimpse of her badge and gun.
Her eyes wide, the woman looked from Cameron to Joshua, who was more befitting the corporate image. The elevator doors opened and the blonde hurried off as fast as her high-heels could carry her.
“That really wasn’t necessary,” Joshua whispered to Cameron.
“I know but it was too much fun to pass up.” She noticed a smirk on his face as he peered down the corridor where the blonde had escaped. “What? I didn’t know you were into corporate types.”
“I’m not.” Joshua took her arm.
“Then why the grin?”
“I was in the military for a very long time,” he said. “I’ve gotten so that I can spot an ex-military from a mile away.”
“Her?” Cameron shook her head. “No.”
“The way they stand. The way they present themselves. Not only was she military, but she was an officer.”
“I wonder if she was a Marine and knew Eddie Palmer.”
“Palmer was enlisted,” Joshua said. “Unless she was his CO, I doubt it.”
They found the corporate blonde in the corner office suite that was home to Stan Frost. Arrogance replaced her fright. Upon seeing Cameron and Joshua stepping through the door, she announced over her shoulder to the administrative assistant behind the desk. “These detectives say they have an appointment with Mr. Frost.”
“Detective Cameron Gates?” the assistant asked in a congenial tone.
With a nod of her head, Cameron added, “And Joshua Thornton to see Mr. Frost and Ms. Ambrose.”
The assistant picked up the phone to announce their arrival.
The blonde told Joshua and Cameron in a challenging tone, “I have a right to know if any of our people are involved in police matters.” She offered her hand to Joshua, not Cameron. “Hannah Pickering. Vice-president in charge of human resources.”
Seeing Stan Frost coming out of his office, she turned on him. “Mr. Frost, why was I not informed that you had an appointment with the police? I had to find out by walking in on them having sex in the elevator.”
“We were not having sex in the elevator,” Cameron said. “We were groping each other. The elevator is too fast for a couple to complete a full sex act. Maybe you have it set that fast for that very reason. By the way—We’re allowed. We married—” She gestured back and forth between them. “—to each other.”
“Now that we’ve announced our personal business to everyone in hearing distance,” Joshua said, “can we get to the matter of our investigation?” Seeing the pregnant woman behind Stan Frost, he asked, “Is this Tiffany Ambrose?” He stepped forward to offer her his hand. “Joshua Thornton. Cameron has invited me to help her with this case.”
“What case?” Hannah objected. “You mean those stupid dead roses?” She turned to the corporate president. “I told you that this was all a prank pulled by some sicko.”
“Hannah, whoever it is, is threatening to kill Tiffany,” the gray-haired man said. “It’s upsetting and it’s not good for her to be upset in her condition.” He reached around her to shake Cameron’s hand. “Thank you so much for coming. Please come into my office. Whatever it takes to make sure Tiffany is safe …Money is no object.”
“If we’re going to have the police on the premises, then I recommend that I be allowed to sit in on this meeting,” Hannah said.
Stan Frost turned around to regard her with a hard glare that would make any employee remember their place.
“It is my duty to know what is going on with our employees,” Hannah repeated in a firm tone.
Cameron was surprised when the company president turned to Tiffany Ambrose to silently ask her reaction. Tiffany consented with a shrug followed by a nod of her head.
“Very well,” the president said before ushering them into his office.
Before following, Cameron turned to Joshua. “Did you see that?”
“Yes.”
“They don’t have your average boss and assistant relationship,” she said. “That’s for sure.”
The top floor corner office provided a view of the airport in the landscape. In addition to the desk and conference table, there was a sitting area where Stan Frost made sure Tiffany was comfortable on the sofa before sitting across from her.
Before taking their seats, Cameron and Joshua made a visual sweep of the office. Seeing no personal pictures of family mementoes, they exchanged glances before yielding to Stan Frost’s call for them to join him, Tiffany, and Hannah, who had taken a seat in the chair opposite the company president.
Cameron sat next to Tiffany while Joshua pulled up a chair to sit on the other side of the coffee table.
“Tiffany, I understand you started getting these roses almost two weeks ago?” Cameron took out her computer tablet to open to her notes application.
Tiffany nodded of her head. “I’ve been getting one a day for the last ten days.”
“Eleven,” Frost corrected her. “Today is day eleven.” He directed his gaze at Cameron. “He says in the notes that on the thirteenth day, he’s going to kill her. That’s the day after tomorrow.”
“We’re going to do everything we can to not let that happen.”
Joshua interrupted, “Can I see the notes that he has been sending her?”
“I made copies of every one.” Frost practically jumped out of his chair in reaching for a folder he had placed on the coffee table in front of him. He handed it to Joshua. “Sick psychopath.” As Joshua opened the folder, he corrected himself. “Except the last one that Tiffany called me about. She hasn’t brought it to me yet.”
“I have it in my briefcase,” Tiffany said.
“Can I see it?” Joshua asked.
With effort, Tiffany pulled up to get out of her seat until Hannah slapped her organizer shut
and stood up. “I can get it for you,” she said. “Where is it?”
“My briefcase is in my office. On top of my desk.” With a tired sigh, Tiffany fell back in her seat.
Hannah, her organizer tucked under her arm, hurried out of the office. She left the door open.
“I think we should have the notes you received processed for fingerprints,” Joshua said.
“Sure,” Tiffany said. “I’ll make sure you get them.” She smiled over at Cameron. “The police officer this morning didn’t even offer to do that.”
“It isn’t every day that he runs into cases like this,” the detective said with a shrug. It was the best excuse she could come up with. “You had told me that you didn’t know anyone in this area when you moved here.”
“No one,” Tiffany replied. “I know it’s crazy, but the position that Mr. Frost offered me was simply too good to pass up.”
“Tiffany has been a treasured asset to my company.” Stan Frost cast her a wide grin. “She’s taken a load off my shoulders. She has a gift for making wise business decisions. That’s not something you learn. It’s something you’re born with.”
“If you don’t mind my asking,” Cameron asked, “how did you find Tiffany? She said that the offer was quite sudden.”
“I wasn’t even looking for a job,” Tiffany recalled with a high pitched giggle. “My husband had only just died. I was still reeling, not really sure what was going to become of me when Hannah sent me that e-mail.”
Joshua looked up from the notes he was reading to look over at Stan Frost. “Sounds like a real stroke of luck that you got such an offer out of the blue when you needed it so badly.”
“Tiffany has been an answer to my prayers.” Stan smiled over at her.
Casting a sly glance in Joshua’s direction, Cameron asked Tiffany, “Your husband was in the Navy.”
“He was a lieutenant,” she said.
“And you lived in Norfolk?”
“Ever since we got married four years ago,” Tiffany answered.
“Four years ago,” Joshua repeated. “The Palmer murder was twelve years ago. He died eight years ago. That’s four years before Tiffany and her husband moved into the area.”
“Who’s Eddie Palmer?” Tiffany asked in a worried tone.
Stan reached for her hand.
“A murderer who’s MO was the same as that of the guy threatening you,” Cameron said.
“Then maybe this Palmer guy wasn’t your killer,” Stan Frost said.
“Yes, he was.” Joshua cocked his head at Cameron while replying, “We did get the right guy.”
“Tiffany!” A plump young man dressed in ill-fitting khaki slacks and a sweater rushed into the office and over to where Tiffany was sitting. He hurtled Cameron, who was sitting in his way, before plopping down next to the pregnant woman. “I was outside talking to Beverly and she told me that you got another death note. Are you okay?”
“She’s fine, Walter,” Stan insisted.
Whirling around to Joshua, Walter demanded to know, “What are you doing to protect her?”
Cameron answered, “We’re going to stay with her until we catch the creep terrorizing her.”
“That’s not good enough,” Walter said.
“Excuse me,” Cameron said, “who are you?” She turned to Stan. “Who is he?”
“This is Walter Bentley,” Stan said. “Vice President in charge of IT, our computer technology.”
Walter hovered over Tiffany. “I think you should come stay with me. I live in a security building.”
Tiffany fought to stand up. “I’d rather stay in my own home.”
Cameron noticed Joshua craning his neck to peer out the door into the reception area. “You don’t need to worry, Walter. We’ll be with Tiffany every second until this is over.”
“Got it!” Hannah sang out in a chipper tone while hurrying into the office. “Sorry I took so long. I had to go to the ladies room. Bentley, you left your binder on Beverly’s desk.” While reaching over Joshua’s shoulder, the vice president dropped the binder onto the coffee table. Its contents spilled across the tabletop. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
Joshua, Stan, and Cameron leaned over to help Walter collect the assortment of notes, much of it looking like gibberish to put back into the binder.
“What the—” Stan Frost uttered a curse while lifting up a note on white stationary. “Why—” Sputtering, he held out the note to Joshua.
“What is it?” Hannah asked.
While Stan glared at Walter, whose face turned white with shock, Joshua read out loud:
Roses are dead;
Now they are gone;
And so are you.
Rest in peace.
Tiffany shrieked.
“What—” Walter turned to Cameron for help. “I never saw that before in my life.”
“Walter, how could you?” Hannah asked.
“It wasn’t me,” Walter insisted.
“You’re fired!” Stan said before ordering Cameron, “Arrest him.”
“Not before questioning him,” Cameron stood up. “Walter, we need to talk.”
“I didn’t do it.” Walter was near tears. “Tiffany, you have to believe me. I would never hurt you. I love you. Can’t you see that?”
“Do you call terrorizing a poor girl love?” Stan asked.
“He needs help,” Hannah said. “Our company offers psychological counseling for our employees—”
“I don’t need psychological counseling!” Walter shouted. “Someone planted that in my binder. I’m being framed.” He turned to Cameron. “Can’t you see that?”
Cameron took Walter by the arm. “Of course, I see that,” she said. “Let’s go to one of the conference rooms and talk.”
“Tiffany …” Walter begged as the detective led him out by the arm.
Stan Frost shook his head. “I don’t believe it.”
Tiffany’s eyes filled with tears while she rubbed her stomach. “I don’t either. Walter seemed like such a nice sweet gentle man. Socially awkward, but sweet.”
“Those are always the ones you need to look out for, honey,” Hannah said.
“I need to go call him a lawyer.” Tiffany pulled herself up to her feet.
“Why?” Stan demanded to know.
“Because I can’t believe Walter did it,” she said.
“He was planning to kill you,” Hannah said. “I’ve seen crazies like him before. He’s fixated on you. First chance he gets, he’ll take you out. Believe me.”
“I can’t believe Walter would ever do anything to hurt me.” Tiffany waddled to the door. “I’m going to go call a friend of mine.”
“We have a legal service.” Hannah tucked her organizer under her arm. “I’ll call them.”
Joshua caught Stan by the arm when he tried to follow Hannah and Tiffany out the door. “We need to talk.” The president’s mouth hung open while Joshua closed the door, turned around, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Do you have something to say to me, Mr. Thornton?”
“When are you planning to tell her?”
“Tell who what?” Gradually, the firm expression softened to one of concern.
“Tiffany,” Joshua replied. “When do you plan to tell her that you’re her father?”
“What—” Stan dropped his façade. “How did you know?”
“I have two daughters,” Joshua said. “Most people, with their dirty minds, would mistake your affection toward Tiffany as something perverted. But I saw it for what it is. Fatherly love. Cameron told me that Tiffany’s mother was single. Riding in like a knight in shining armor right when she needed it—that didn’t just happen. She needed help and your paternal feelings wouldn’t let you not help her.”
Stan Frost went behind his desk and opened a drawer. He removed a yellowed envelope from inside and tossed it onto the center of his desktop. He nodded his head at Joshua. “Read it. It’s all there.”
Joshua picked up the envelope and took
out the stationary filled with a woman’s handwriting in cursive. The signature line read Ashley Ambrose.
While Joshua scanned the contents of the letter, Stan told him, “Biggest mistake I ever made in my life. I fell in love with Ashley at first sight. She was my everything, but I didn’t realize it until it was too late. My mother hated her. She was a domineering, prejudice—even hateful woman.”
“Your mother?”
“But she was my mother.” Stan nodded his head. “She kept calling Ashley a JAP.”
“Jewish American Princess.”
“When Ashley and I became engaged, my mother was furious,” Stan said. “She ordered me to choose. Her or Ashley.”
Joshua stopped reading and looked across the desk at the company president, whose face was filled with sorrow.
“I choose poorly.”
“You didn’t know Ashley was pregnant,” Joshua noted the contents of the letter.
“She was hurt, which she had every reason to be. She left the area and never looked back.” Stan pointed at the letter. “I never heard from her until she sent me that letter when she was dying.”
“She told Tiffany that you had abandoned them.” Joshua put his finger on the words in the letter. “By the time she realized how much she had hurt Tiffany by poisoning her against you, it was too late.”
“Do you blame her?” Stan dropped down into the chair behind his desk. “I loved Ashley. She’s Tiffany’s mother.”
“Show her this letter,” Joshua said.
“And make Tiffany think her mother was a lying monster?” Stan shook his head. “Tiffany thinks her mother was a saint. I can’t dirty her memory like that.”
“What else can you do?” Joshua asked. “If you tell her that you’re her father, she’ll hate you for having abandoned her. If you show her this letter, you’ll crush the memory she has of her mother.”
“Now you know my dilemma,” Stan said. “As soon as I got that letter, I hired a private investigator to keep tabs on Tiffany. When she was graduating from college, I was at the ceremony to see her cross that stage. When she got married, I crashed her wedding. She never noticed me.”