Sheppard’s expression may have been unreadable to others, but Carson was able to see the anger that tightened his jaw and shadowed his eyes. “Yes, I know him.”
“How?”
“His computer company once put in a bid to provide computer services at Granger Aeronautics.”
* * *
“You are Ramona Oakley, right?” Marcel asked, greeting the young woman who walked into his office.
Nervousness showed on her face. “Yes, but I don’t know what this is about. I’ve never gotten into any trouble, not even a parking ticket. Except for that one time I received a citation for swimming topless on the beach, but that was four years ago. Why would anyone from the FBI want to talk to me?”
Topless on the beach? Marcel cleared his throat. “Please have a seat, Ms. Oakley. I’m Marcel Eaton, Special Agent for the FBI, and my division is handling the trade-secret violations at Granger Aeronautics. I would like to ask you a few questions.”
“All right, but I don’t know what I can tell you. I was shocked like everyone else when Mr. Freeman, Mr. Carrington and Ms. Swanson were arrested. Who would have thought? And then for one of the company attorneys, that man named Vidal Duncan, to try to kill Jace Granger. He had to have been demented or something to think he could get away with it.”
She paused to take a deep breath and then asked, “So what would you like to ask me?”
Marcel leaned back in his chair. “Just the routine questions to get a feel of what you do at Granger. And, if you don’t mind, I’d like to record our conversation.”
She smiled. “I don’t mind being recorded. I think that’s cool. And telling you what I do at Granger Aeronautics is easy. I work on payroll, and I love my job, crunching all those numbers, and knowing at the end of the week everyone will get a paycheck because I’ve taken my job seriously and made sure they get paid, and on time. There are ten of us in my department.” Ramona paused to take a breath.
Marcel nodded, thinking the young woman was definitely chatty. Almost too chatty. He decided to get down to the reason she had been asked to come in. “Ms. Oakley, we recently checked several computers in your work area, and it seems that yours has software on it that was not installed by Granger.”
Ramona Oakley blinked, startled. “That’s impossible. I don’t put anything on my computer. It’s against company policy. Everyone knows that. The only thing I do every once in a while is listen to my music. That’s permissible and makes a long day go by faster.”
“You download your music onto the company computer?”
“No. That’s not permitted, either. Granger provides us with unrestricted music channels. I enjoy pop music, and that’s the site I listen to.”
Marcel nodded. “And how do you listen to your music?”
“With headphones, of course,” she said, looking at him as if he was dense.
“Granger provides you with special headphones?”
“No, we use our own. I have a special pair. At least they were special up until last week. The guy who gave them to me as a gift dumped me for no reason at all, so they aren’t special any longer.”
Marcel lifted a brow. “He dumped you?”
“Yes, can you believe that?”
It depends, Marcel thought to himself. “The two of you had a big fight or something?”
“No, and that’s what’s strange. I thought things were going well. I guess he decided to stop cheating on his wife.”
Marcel lifted another brow. “He was married?”
“So he said. And that’s why we couldn’t be seen in public and had to do things discreetly.”
“And you didn’t have a problem with that? The wife? Doing things discreetly?”
“No, of course not,” she said, shifting into a more comfortable position in her chair. “It’s not like I want a husband or anything. Heck, I’m only twenty-five. I like being single and having fun. Besides, he was nice to me. He liked buying me things.”
Marcel drew in a deep breath, thinking that there definitely wasn’t any shame in her game. “And one of the things he bought you was a pair of headphones?”
“Yes. Said he got them while vacationing with his wife in Dubai a few months ago.”
“Do you happen to have the headphones with you?”
“Yes. I take them everywhere I go. They’re great at the beach because they’re waterproof,” she said, searching her purse for them. “Here they are.”
Marcel took the headphones from her and immediately knew there was something familiar about them. It didn’t take him but a second to remember that a similar pair was found in Brandy Booker’s belongings. “I’m going to have to hold on to these for a while, Ms. Oakley.”
She looked surprised. “Why?”
“I’ll need our technicians to check them out.”
“Why? They’re just headphones.”
“We’ll verify that and return them to you. Is this the only pair you have?” Marcel asked.
“Yes. He only gave me that one pair.”
“And what was his name? The man who—”
“Dumped me? Go ahead and say it. I don’t mind.”
Marcel cleared his throat. “What’s his name?”
“John Wayne.”
Marcel’s brows bunched together. “John Wayne?”
“Yes, isn’t that neat? His parents named him after the actor.”
Probably not his real name, Marcel thought but decided to keep that to himself for now. “Where did the two of you meet?”
“In the park, not far from where I live. He was walking his dog.”
“So he lives in your area.”
“No. He said he liked driving over to our park. He thought it was a lot more interesting.”
I bet, Marcel thought to himself. Half an hour later, he finished going through all the questions he had for Ramona Oakley. “That is all for now, Ms. Oakley,” he said, standing.
She stood, as well. “For now? Does that mean you might be calling me back in?”
“Possibly.”
“That’s neat. I like talking to you. How old are you, Mr. Eaton?”
He moved from behind his desk to escort her out of his office. “I’m fifty-seven.”
“You don’t look it.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you married?”
“Yes, for twenty very happy years.” He decided to throw that in just in case she was getting any ideas. “I’m the father of triplets who just entered college this fall.”
Before she could ask him any more questions, he quickly said, “Have a good day, Ms. Oakley.”
Thirty-Eight
The housekeeper of the Timmons estate escorted Shiloh and Jules into the family room. And, just like the rest of the house Jules had seen so far, it was massive and too elegant for words. She turned to Shiloh in awe. “And to think you once lived here.”
“Yes, but don’t be too impressed. It wasn’t a home filled with love, and I stayed away as much as I could. I found my solace at Sutton Hills,” Shiloh said, sitting down on one of the sofas.
“And with Caden?” Jules asked, sitting down, as well.
Shiloh’s smile displayed more than a hint of happiness when she said, “Yes, and with Caden.” She was about to say something else when the sound of footsteps could be heard on the marble floor.
“Shiloh, sweetheart, imagine my surprise when...” Sandra Timmons’s smile and words died slowly when she saw Jules. “I didn’t know you had brought a friend with you.”
Both Jules and Shiloh stood. Shiloh smiled over at Jules. “Yes, I did. Mother, I’d like you to meet Jules Bradford. She’s Shana’s sister.”
Sandra Timmons arched a brow. “Shana?”
“Yes. Jace’s wife.”
“Oh.”
Do you have to make your disappointment so obvious? Jules thought, studying Shiloh’s mother. Sandra Timmons was a beautiful woman for her age, and Jules wondered how much of it was original and how much was courtesy of a plastic surgeon. She definitely looked the part of a wealthy matron, from the sophisticated and stylish pants suit she was wearing to the style of her hair, with not a strand out of place.
When it was obvious that Mrs. Timmons wouldn’t make the first move to display Southern hospitality or graceful manners, Jules decided to do so. Crossing the room, she extended her hand. “Nice meeting you, Ms. Timmons.” She did not add the cliché of, And I’ve heard a lot about you, although it would have been true.
“Yes. Thanks. Welcome to my home.”
The handshake was flimsy and over rather quickly; it certainly didn’t make her feel welcome. “Thank you,” Jules said politely.
“The reason I’m here, Mom, is to ask you some questions. And the reason I brought Jules with me is because she has a few questions to ask you, too.”
Confusion lit Sandra Timmons’s eyes. “Questions? I don’t understand.”
“Jules is a private investigator, who has reopened Sylvia Granger’s murder case.”
Jules watched the flash of shock that appeared in Mrs. Timmons’s eyes. It appeared so quickly that anyone not watching her closely would have missed it.
“Reopen the case? B–but why?”
Jules thought she would be the best person to answer that. “Because I don’t believe Sheppard Granger killed his wife, and I intend to prove it.”
The woman was speechless, that was pretty obvious. And it took her a few seconds to recover. With a stiffened spine, she said, “Evidently, you also believe in fairy tales, Ms. Bradford, because everyone knows the truth. Sheppard killed Sylvia.”
“Really? And you know this how? Were you there, Ms. Timmons?” Jules asked curtly.
The ice that suddenly formed in Sandra Timmons’s eyes was like a glacier. “No, I was not there, Ms. Bradford, but Sylvia was one of my closest friends, and she confided in me about some...personal things. I knew just how mean Shep had been to her, accusing her of god-awful things and believing everything that their housekeeper was telling him.”
Jules opened her mouth to speak, but Shiloh beat her to the punch. “If you and Sylvia Granger were such close friends, Mom, how is it that the two of you were having an affair with the same man?”
* * *
Dalton walked into the conference room to find his brothers, Shana and Bruce already seated around the conference table. “What’s this meeting about?” he asked, sliding into the first available seat.
Jace rubbed the back of his neck. “Not sure. Shana got a call from Marcel, and he asked that we meet him here.”
“I thought we decided not to discuss any business here at Granger since it seems that even the paper clips have ears,” Dalton said, picking up a paper clip that lay on the table and analyzing it.
“Marcel asked Bruce to use his magic scanner to double-check and make sure this room is bug-free,” Shana said, grinning.
Dalton glanced over at Bruce. “Hey, man, the Feds need to put you on their payroll.”
Bruce chuckled. “I’m on Shana’s and Jules’s payrolls, and that’s good enough for me. Besides, you know how the government is these days. Like everyone else, they are trying to do more with less. I don’t mind helping out my country.”
“And speaking of Jules...” Caden said.
Dalton was expecting questions, but wasn’t about to give any answers. “Mind your own business, Caden,” he said in a firm voice.
“Why? You never do,” was Caden’s quick comeback.
Jace thought he would have to intervene when there was a knock on the door. “Come in.”
Marcel entered. “Glad all of you were able to make it at such short notice. Thank you,” he said, sitting down. “For the past week or so, my team and I have been doing extensive background checks on everyone in the accounting and computer technology departments. This morning, I got around to interviewing Ramona Oakley, the young woman whose computer was infected with that spyware.”
“How did that go?” Shana asked, taking a sip of water.
“It was pretty interesting. I think we might be on to something.”
“What?” Jace asked, the intensity of his gaze showing he was on full alert.
“This,” Marcel said, placing the headphones he’d confiscated earlier from Ramona Oakley in the middle of the table.
Caden lifted a brow. “Headphones?”
“Yes, headphones. Ms. Oakley used them on occasion to listen to music while working. She did indicate she only visited music sites Granger deemed unrestricted. Take a close look at them, Bruce,” Marcel suggested.
Bruce picked them up and studied every inch of them before he began to dismantle them piece by piece. When he didn’t find anything unusual, he put them back together. “Now, let’s see what I missed,” he said, reaching for his briefcase and placing it on the table.
Bruce opened what was referred to as his briefcase of toys, software and hardware specifically created to combat computer espionage. Taking out what looked like nothing more than a miniature flashlight, he scanned the headphones. When the scanner began flashing, he looked over at Marcel, smiled and said, “Bingo. Whatever is in here cannot be seen with the naked eye. And it’s my guess that once the device makes contact with a computer, the spyware is automatically downloaded and activated.”
“Damn,” Caden said, shaking his head. “How did she get it?”
“Her boyfriend,” Marcel responded.
“The older man?” Dalton asked.
Marcel nodded his head. “Yes. He recently dumped her, but she should count her blessings.”
“Why?” Shana asked, staring down at what looked like a fancy pair of headphones.
“Because that same type of headphones was found in Brandy Booker’s apartment when it was searched.” He then tossed another set on the table. Hers are identical except in color.
Jace leaned back in his chair. “Are you saying...?”
“Yes,” Marcel said, nodding. He glanced over at Dalton. “I think your hunch might have been right on the money. The same older man who was dating Brandy, and used her to install the spyware on her computer, is more than likely the same man who used Ramona Oakley for the same purpose. My job is to find out who he is.”
* * *
Sandra Timmons’s features went into shock. Some people were good at masking their emotions, but she was not. Jules thought it might have had something to do with the way her mouth seemed to drop, almost falling to the floor. But it didn’t take long for her to recover and put that iron face back into place. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Really?” Shiloh asked, moving to stand in front of her mother. “Well, let me tell you what I’m talking about. You were seen with him.”
“Him who?”
“Vance Clayburn.”
Again, another shocked look. It was there one second and gone the next. Mrs. Timmons attempted to look thoughtful. “Vance Clayburn. I believe that’s the man Nannette Gaither is engaged to marry. Why would you think that—”
“You were seen with him. Years ago. In our stables. Caden saw you, and don’t you dare call my husband a liar.”
Sandra Timmons opened her mouth to do just that and then thought better of it. She closed her mouth tightly and then switched her gaze from Shiloh to look out the windows where those same stables could be seen. It was obvious she was trying to hold her emotions together. Either that or she was trying to get her lie straight before she told it, Jules thought.
“Well, Mother?”
It was obvious Shiloh wasn’t cutting her mother any slack. She wanted answers, and she wanted them n
ow. When Sandra Timmons’s gaze came back to rest on Shiloh, there were emotions etched across every inch of her features.
“We need to talk privately, Shiloh.”
“No, Mom, we don’t. You might be a murder suspect if you don’t—”
“Suspect for murder! What are you talking about?” Sandra Timmons asked in a panicky voice.
It was Jules who spoke. “You and Sylvia Granger were involved with the same man, Ms. Timmons. For all we know, you could have killed her in a jealous rage.”
“That’s insane. I would not have killed Sylvia—she was my best friend. She didn’t even know Vance and I knew each other, and she told me she only messed around with Vance to—”
When she didn’t finish, Jules pressed. “To what?”
Sandra Timmons drew in a deep breath before narrowing her gaze at Jules. “Ms. Bradford, you aren’t the police, and I don’t have to answer any of your questions.”
Jules smiled. “You’re right, I am not the police, but I believe I have enough information to give them a reason to reopen Sylvia Granger’s murder case. Things aren’t like they used to be. Police departments have special task forces in place just to handle cold cases, and they will be relentless in their questioning and pursuit of the truth. And you will have no choice but to tell them what they want to know. So you can either deal with me or with them. The choice is yours but, no matter what you decide, I will eventually find out the truth.”
Sandra Timmons looked faint for a moment, but then recovered herself. “I’d prefer to have a private conversation with Shiloh.”
“Sorry, Mom. It will be in your best interest for Jules to hear whatever you have to say, as well.”
Sandra Timmons glanced over at her, and Jules knew the woman was not convinced of that. But finally, she relented. “Vance and I met while in college. We were hoping our parents would allow us to marry, but they didn’t. They already had other partners picked out for us.”
“Arranged marriages?” Shiloh asked.
“Yes, you could say that. In our circles, at our station in life, we did what our parents ordered. Over the years, we’d run into each other on occasion. We knew both our lives were miserable, but...”
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