by S. L. Menear
“Be careful, sweetheart. I’m glad Snake has your back. Call me later.”
I looked at Snake. “Any ideas how we catch a hitman?”
“Anticipate his next move and outmaneuver him.”
I checked the time. “We need to get going. Our appointment with my CEO is in twenty minutes.”
We valet parked at Jorgensen Industries’ waterfront building on Flagler Drive bordering the Intracoastal Waterway. Mauve-colored glass and matching stones covered the structure’s exterior. The CEO’s office perched twenty-eight stories up on the top floor.
We exited the elevator into an expansive foyer where an executive assistant ushered us into Frasier Collins’ office. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the waterway and distant ocean. Frasier, a fit man in his late fifties with thick gray hair, stood to greet us.
After friendly introductions, I got right to the point. “We found evidence my parents’ jet was sabotaged. I’m looking into who might’ve had a motive to murder them.”
Once Frasier recovered from the shock, he said, “Carl Rowan is a definite possibility.”
“We’re already looking into him,” Snake said. “Anyone else?”
“Werner Dietrich is a ruthless German billionaire who tried to buy Jorgensen Industries, but it’s a privately held company, and they refused to sell.”
“Why did Dietrich want my family’s company?”
“His usual method is to acquire a company, break it up, and sell the assets. He’s known for getting his way. Maybe he thought with your parents gone, you’d sell it. Has he contacted you, Jett?”
“No, but I wasn’t easy to reach on a military base in Afghanistan the past two years. I haven’t been home long. Has he asked you about the company’s new owner, namely me?”
“He contacted me a week after the plane crash. I explained the company would be tied up in probate a while and then it would pass to you.”
I stood. “Let me know if you hear from Dietrich. Good seeing you, Frasier.”
On the way back to Banyan Isle, I nudged Snake. “A billionaire could easily hire a hitman, and Dietrich sounds like the kind of guy who would do that.”
Twenty-Four
We pulled into my garage at 5:10 p.m., no closer to a solution on catching the killer. I closed the big electric door and slid out of the car.
Snake scanned the garage interior. “You could fit ten vehicles in here, easy, and the floor looks clean enough to eat on.”
“A century ago, this building housed horses and their carriages.”
He stared at a corner. “What’s under the blue tarp?”
“Oh, nothing, just my motorcycle.” I reached into my handbag for my house keys.
He sauntered over to the bike and lifted the tarp. “Whoa, woman, this is a Harley-Davidson Softail Heritage Classic. I love the teal color.” He grinned at me. “I didn’t know you were a Harley babe.” He held the tarp. “You know, we could be nice and comfy with this cover on the floor. You look tense again.” He spread the canvas and beckoned me to join him.
“Sex won’t solve my problem.” And I’m too emotionally vulnerable right now. I didn’t want to get hurt again, but he’d be hard to resist if he kissed me like he had at the airport.
“It’ll solve my problem.” He reached for me.
“Slow your roll, cowboy.” I pressed my hands against his hard chest.
“Relax, Jett.” He slid his arms around me and kissed me nice and slow.
A loud click preceded the side door opening. Sophia and the puppies peeked in. “You two okay in here? I got worried when you didn’t come out right away.”
The dogs rocketed to us.
“Snake wanted to look at my Harley.” My heart pounded as I stumbled over to the tarp and tossed it over my bike.
“Uh huh, that’s not all he wanted to look at.” Sophia crossed her arms and glared at Snake.
“Give me a break. I can’t help it if I’m a hot-blooded Texan.” He put his arm around Sophia. “Deep down, I know you understand. How about giving us some quality alone time?”
“Sorry.” She leaned into him, enjoying the moment. “My obligation is to Jett. Besides, you’re flying home tomorrow. There’ll be no loving and leaving in this house. She’s been through enough already.”
He gave her a gentle hug. “You drive a hard bargain, woman. Got any homemade goodies to ease the pain?”
“Just made a batch of chocolate-chip cannoli. Come with me, sweet cheeks.”
I trailed behind on the stone walkway as they strolled to the house. The puppies gave me plenty of kisses, especially after I retrieved the doggie bag from the car. They were mesmerized by the scent of juicy steak and bones.
GWEN
Gwen started her day interviewing more of Denton Donley’s alleged rape victims. First on the list was Josie Perkins. She lived with her parents in a modest home in one of the old West Palm Beach neighborhoods south of the downtown area.
Gwen flashed her shield. “Thank you for seeing me. I’m Detective Gwen Stuart, here investigating Denton Donley.”
Josie and her mother welcomed her inside. Both women were blond and petite with delicate bone structure, pale skin, heart-shaped lips, and large blue eyes. They led her into a twelve-foot-square living room and sat on a cloth-covered couch with a cheerful tropical floral pattern.
Gwen sat across from them in a matching armchair. “I’d appreciate anything you can tell me about Denton Donley.”
Josie stared at her hands. “He was a player, but he acted all charming and polite so I’d trust him. I met him at an upscale club on Clematis Street. Said he was looking for the right woman so he could settle down and start a family.” She paused, collecting herself. “He must’ve slipped something into my drink. Everything went black, and later, I woke up naked and bleeding.”
“And where were you when you woke?” Gwen checked the file on her iPad.
“The backseat of my car, parked at a strip mall near the corner of Forest Hill and Congress. He must’ve taken the keys from my purse and driven me there or had someone else do it. My clothes were draped over me, the doors were locked, and a window was open an inch.”
“What time did you wake?”
“It was about seven the next morning. A cop knocked on my window.”
Josie’s mother broke in, “The cop was horrible. He arrested my daughter for public nudity and solicitation. Treated her like a prostitute. Didn’t even care about her injury.”
“By the time I got out on bail and went to the hospital, the doctor said it was too late to collect DNA from my attacker. Bleeding had washed away the DNA on the inside if there was any, and I had wiped the blood off my skin, not realizing I was destroying evidence. My father was so angry about the attack.”
Josie’s mother wrung her hands. “We hired a lawyer and sued the police and Denton Donley.”
“Right, I read the file.” Gwen checked her iPad. “You lost the police case, and the Donley suit was dropped for lack of evidence. How did that make you feel?”
“I felt devalued and bitter,” Josie admitted. “My doctor warned I might not ever have children because of the damage Donley did to me. For a while, I just wanted to die.” She wiped away tears.
“And Frank, her father, wanted to kill him.” Josie’s mother dabbed at tears with a tissue. “We convinced him it wasn’t worth ruining his life to kill that scum. The creep got off without so much as a slap on the wrist.”
“Well, he’s dead now. Please don’t be upset by my next question. I have to ask everyone who had any connection to him where they were last Sunday afternoon so I can rule them out.”
“Josie and I work at a shelter for homeless women on Sundays, and my husband plays golf all afternoon with his buddies from work. You can check with the public golf course, and I’ll give you the names and numbers of Frank’s friends and the number for the shelter.”
Gwen took down the information and stood. “Thank you for your help, ladies. I’m sorry to dredge up ba
d memories. At least you know Donley can’t hurt anyone else.”
Every interview that day was a replay of the previous ones. All the young women were from modest middle-class families, and every rape account followed a similar pattern. So far, all the affected parties had alibis.
Gwen wrapped up the last interview of the day and headed for Banyan Isle. On her drive home, she called Jett.
“Hi, Jett, I’m headed home. Want to get together for dinner?”
“Yes, I have loads to tell you, and I could use your help running interference between Snake and me. That man is way too good at kissing, but he’s leaving tomorrow, and I don’t want to get hurt again.”
“He made a pass?”
“Twice. He’s the kind of guy who can melt away all your inhibitions with one steamy kiss. And I’ve already had one too many. I need help.”
“Want me to lure him over to my house?” She chuckled.
“He’s supposed to stay here to protect me. Could you spend the night at my place? If he asks, we could say you’re sleeping in my room to stop me from sleepwalking again.”
“Okay, I’ll stop by home and change clothes, and then I’ll show up with a little overnight bag and explain I’m there to help.”
“Should I invite Mike to dinner so I can update him at the same time I tell you everything we learned today?”
“Good idea, and Mike can be a buffer between you and Snake.” Gwen chuckled. “Think you should invite Pierce too?”
“No, he keeps reminding me he wants to take me out as soon as I’m ready to start dating again. I don’t want him to think the dinner invitation is a signal for him to go for it. I’ve got too much to deal with here.”
“All right. I’ll see you in an hour.” Gwen tapped off and pulled into her driveway.
Twenty-Five
JETT
We gathered in the spacious dining room. Twenty-foot walls covered in teal silk matched the upholstered mahogany chairs. The hand-carved mahogany table seated forty-four and had leaves that could expand it to accommodate an additional twenty diners. Huge crystal chandeliers sparkled above us, reflecting off the highly-polished golden oak floor.
The seating for dinner worked out to my advantage. Gwen and Sophia sat on either side of Snake, and Mike sat beside me across from them, leaving most of the dining table unoccupied. A delicious aroma of cheese and sausage lasagna and fresh-baked garlic bread filled the air. We chose to dine indoors to eliminate any concern there might be a sniper outside on a boat.
A large decanter of Ménage à Trois Silk blended red wine and an ice bucket filled with cold bottles of Budweiser provided everyone with their drink of choice.
“Gwen, have you made any headway on your murder case?” I asked.
“So far, all the suspects I’ve interviewed have rock-solid alibis, and we still don’t know the cause of death.”
“Are you talking about Denton Donley?” Mike set down his beer. “I thought he died of natural causes.”
“He and Binky Worthington are considered suspicious deaths, but we aren’t sure if they were murdered.” Gwen sipped her wine and gave Snake a playful nudge. “What did you and Jett find out today?”
He gave her an admiring glance. “Mayor Peabody’s boat left the harbor the night Lola Brown was murdered, and he and his wife flew out of Signature’s private terminal the next morning at the same time Jett’s parents left. It’s reasonable to conclude they ran into each other before departure and had a chat. We think Jett’s parents must’ve let it slip they saw the mayor and Lola on his boat the night before.”
Sophia grinned. “My theory was correct. Peabody knew your parents would report what they had seen once the story about the murdered girl hit the news and they returned home, so he hired a hitman to kill them and make it look like an accident.”
I frowned. “Or it could’ve been Carl Rowan, who blamed my parents for his prison sentence and divorce.”
Snake added, “Or billionaire Werner Dietrich could’ve hired a hitman to kill Jett’s parents because he wanted their company. He doesn’t want us poking around for evidence, so he had the same pro blow up our dive boat.”
Mike gave me a gentle nudge. “I hate to burst your bubble, but your theory about a hitman taking care of loose ends makes no sense. If he was worried about the mayor feeling guilty and turning him in, he would’ve killed him two years ago after he was paid for the hit. And if Dietrich hired the hit on your parents, it still wouldn’t fit that the hitter is targeting you now because pros don’t leave loose ends.”
Gwen added, “The mayor began the heavy drinking and womanizing two years ago, after Jett’s parents died. Maybe the hitman didn’t consider him a threat until his risky behavior escalated. Poisoning him made a woman seem guilty.”
Snake agreed, “No matter who hired him, the assassin wouldn’t want divers finding evidence of sabotage, triggering an investigation. That’s why he blew up our boat.”
Sophia swallowed a bite of lasagna. “Okay, that makes sense. Jett, do you think whoever it is will try to kill you and Hunter again?”
“Maybe, but only if he can make it look like an accident. With us dead, the investigation would end and my company might be available to buyers.” I took a drink of wine.
Snake shook his head. “The hitman needn’t worry. Proving who sabotaged the airplane will be almost impossible. There’s not enough evidence, and the person who hired him might be dead.”
Mike cut in, “Are you saying Jett isn’t in danger?”
“Probably not, but she should remain vigilant, just in case.” Snake gave me a longing look and then switched back to Mike. “I’m flying home tomorrow. I have to return to my team.”
“I hope you’re right about Jett no longer being in danger,” Sophia said. “Maybe he blew up the dive boat to scare her and Hunter away from the crash site.”
“That was a drastic move, and he killed the boat captain.” Mike turned to me. “Either the mayor ordered the hit, and he may have died because of it, or it was Rowan or Dietrich. You should stop looking for the hitman. Enough people have died. Let it go.”
“That’s surprising advice coming from a police detective. Don’t you want to catch the murderer, Mike?” I refilled my glass and passed the carafe to Gwen.
“Yes, I do, so leave it to the police and stay out of it. I’d hate to see you get killed.”
We locked eyes for a moment, and a warm, familiar feeling from long ago washed over me. Did Mike still love me?
I took a soothing sip of wine. “Everything we have so far is circumstantial. If I were sure the mayor ordered the hit on my parents, then I could let this go. If Rowan or Dietrich did it, I don’t want him to get away with it. And the hitman might still be trying to kill my uncle and me. I won’t feel safe until I know who’s responsible and he’s behind bars or dead.”
“I understand how Jett feels, wanting justice for her murdered parents. I feel the same way about my parents’ killer.” Gwen bit her lip. “I’ll never have peace until he’s caught.”
Mike agreed, “And I feel the same way about my brother.”
Sophia peered across the table at me. “What’s left to do?”
I smiled at my friends. “I still have people to interview. One of them might shed new light on the case.”
“Jett, I’d rather you didn’t interfere with my investigation. The mayor’s murder could be connected to your parents’ crash.” Mike gave me a stern look. “I don’t want you talking to any of my suspects.”
“Relax, Mike, I won’t mess up your big case. You don’t even know one of them.”
Gwen interrupted, “Who are you talking about, Jett?”
“Someone who might be able to confirm if the mayor is guilty. If it wasn’t him, I’d hate for the real killer to go free. Also, I’d like to know if Rowan and Dietrich have alibis. There has to be somebody who might know a detail that will help me figure this out.”
Snake smiled at me. “Now you’re talking like a real detec
tive. Just be careful out there.”
Gwen leaned into Snake. “Think we should use Jett’s telescope and check the backyard and ocean for snipers?”
They momentarily locked eyes.
“Good idea. Excuse us.”
Sophia caught me smiling. After they walked away, she said, “I know what you and Gwen are up to, and I think it’s a good idea.”
“What?” Mike asked.
“Nothing. Gwen’s just helping me be a good hostess. Help us clear the table, and if Snake and Gwen give us the all clear, we can enjoy dessert on the terrace.” I stood and began stacking plates.
Five minutes later, we checked in with Snake and Gwen.
“No snipers in sight.” Snake stepped away from the telescope.
“Good, then we can have Sophia’s cannoli out here.” I went inside and helped her load the serving cart.
When we arrived with the dessert, Gwen and Snake stood near the back steps.
Gwen announced, “Snake had some cannoli earlier, and I want to show him our lovely beach. We’ll be back in a little while.”
GWEN
Gwen took Snake’s arm, and they strolled across the back lawn toward the ocean. When they opened the beach gate, she used a palm frond to hold it open so they wouldn’t need a key to return. She led him on the sand south to her entrance gate next door and pulled a key out of her jeans pocket.
“My backyard has an unusual gazebo I think you’d enjoy seeing.” She led him down a path to a raised circular structure made of stone with glass windows and a glass door. “The glass is hurricane-proof up to 200-mph winds.” She opened the door, stepped inside, and opened the windows for a cool, cross breeze.
The center was bare, and cushions covered the perimeter seating all the way around. Warm salt air and the soothing sounds of waves breaking on shore filled the gazebo.
Snake sat beside Gwen and took her hands. “This is nice. Now tell me what’s really going on. It’s obvious Jett put you up to this to get rid of me. Is she tryin’ to get back with Mike?”