Scottsdale Squeeze: a romantic light-hearted murder mystery (Laura Black Mysteries Book 2)

by B A Trimmer

  The twenty minutes of waiting stretched into thirty minutes, and then into forty. Typical of Lenny.

  I kept flipping through the file. The last section was the miscellaneous information. Howard was born in Connecticut. Had degrees in business from both Harvard and the Wharton School of Business. He’d been married twice. From the pictures, the first wife had been for love and the second wife was strictly trophy. The trophy wife had divorced him two years ago, about the same time that his finances took a dive.

  And then I saw it. He had one child, a boy from the first marriage who had taken his mother’s last name. Terry Lennox.

  Damn.

  ~~~~

  An hour after he had hung up with me, Lenny came in through the back security door. I followed him into his office. Without speaking, he went to his corner liquor cabinet and poured himself a Jim Beam over ice. He asked me if I wanted a drink too. I was about to say no, I needed to keep focused. But then, I noticed he’d absent-mindedly picked up his bottle of twenty-one year old Balvenie scotch, the one he only drinks to celebrate big money wins with his most exclusive clients. Over the last few months, I had picked up an appreciation of Balvenie scotch. So, instead I said, “Yes, please.”

  He handed me the glass and I spent several seconds watching the single ice cube swirling around and slowly melting. I then held the glass up, took in a deep sniff. I loved the complex aroma. It was deep and fruity, with just a hint of raisins. I then took a sip and let the hot pleasure flow through my mouth. I caught faint traces of fruit, honey, and spice. The scotch then seemed to dissolve and evaporate on my tongue, leaving a long and gentle nutty taste. I took another sip and felt my body give a small shiver. The scotch was absolutely wonderful.

  Damn.

  I looked up and saw Lenny was giving me an annoyed look. I think he had realized which bottle he’d used to pour the drink.

  “Well, if you are done having sex with your scotch,” he said. “Let’s get started.”

  Lenny sat at his desk and I took one of the wooden chairs that had been positioned in front of the desk. The legs of the chair had been chosen to be especially short. This had the effect of making Lenny look even bigger behind his desk.

  “Why didn’t you tell me Howard Spencer was the father of Terry Lennox?” I asked.

  “I didn’t make a connection between Howard Spencer and Jackie Wade until the police called me this evening. I knew Howard was involved in real estate development, but I didn’t realize Roger Wade was his partner. This sheds a totally new light on events.”

  I was starting to piece together a scenario of what had happened, but I wanted to get Lenny’s take. So, I shut up and let him talk.

  “It was a week ago now Howard Spencer called and asked me to help his son out in finding his lost girlfriend. I didn’t ask any questions, I thought it would be a chance for me to pay back an old debt. Now, of course, I’m starting to think he set me up to find Jackie, with his son as an excuse. The reasons for him doing this are unknown.”

  “What happened tonight?” I asked.

  “The police called me about an hour and a half ago and started asking me about Howard Spencer. They asked if I know him. Seems he and Roger Wade were business partners and they want to talk with him in connection with both the murder of Roger Wade and the disappearance of Jackie Wade. I say sure I know him, matter of fact we took on his son as a client. They want to know why we would do that. I tell them it’s privileged. They ask if I know the current whereabouts of Howard Spencer. I tell them I haven’t seen him in several years. They ask me where he’s currently living. I tell them I don’t know. They ask what his phone number is. I said he’s the one who called me. They start to imply I’m impeding the investigation. I start to imply they can take a flying fuck. And then, some heated words were exchanged on both sides. Bottom line is by helping Howard’s son find Jackie and then by taking on Jackie as a client, it appears I’ve opened us up to an awkward situation. The fact that Jackie was about to be charged with murder and then disappeared has only made the situation worse. So, here it is. In addition to finding Jackie, I need you to find Howard Spencer. I also need you to find out what the hell is going on with both him and Jackie. The police are also looking for both of them so try not to step on their toes too much. And, work through me to make sure we feed them anything material we dig up along the way. You know how pissy they get if we don’t.”

  NINE

  I went back to the break room and grabbed another Diet Pepsi from the fridge. I then walked over to my cubicle and sat. I sipped the Diet Pepsi and tried to think.

  First things first, I thought. I pulled out my phone and called Terry Lennox’s number. It rang several times and then went to voice mail. I left a message for him to call me right away.

  I tossed my phone on my desk and gave a deep sigh of frustration. This is always the part of an assignment that I really dislike. It always starts out as something easy that I think I have a handle on. This time, my assignment was to find a wealthy Scottsdale cougar called Jackie Wade. That’s something I sort of know how to do. She wasn’t trying all that hard to hide and it was relatively simple to find her.

  Then she gets kidnapped but that’s OK, I’ve done that before too. Not as easy as finding a Scottsdale cougar who’s recently dumped her boy toy but still something I can probably do. But now, it’s a day later and in addition to finding Jackie I also need to find a guy who’s been off the radar for months and even the police, with all of their resources, have no clue where to find him.

  I took a deep breath in, and then let it out.

  OK, not a problem. I have better resources than the Scottsdale police department. I’ll find them both.

  I picked up my phone and called Annie. She answered on the first ring.

  “Hey Annie,” I said. Have you or the girls heard anything new on Jackie?”

  “No, I was hoping you had. We were out all night and the girls have been hitting the Saturday weddings to see if they can pick up anything new. Pam and Sonia went to a charity auction at the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art this afternoon. About half of the Snobsdale elite showed up but so far we haven’t heard a thing.”

  “Is everyone going back out tonight?”

  “Oh sure. Saturday night is always prime time for the girls and we’d be out in any case. But, I have to be honest. Having Jackie missing is really starting to overcome me. I’m so worried and scared for her.”

  “I am too,” I said, “but we’ll find her. There is one new thing. In addition to Jackie, I’m also looking for Howard Spencer. Do you know if anyone saw him last night?”

  “I’ll ask the group. I didn’t see him, but then again, I really wasn’t looking for him.”

  “Let everyone know if they see him to call me right away.”

  “Will do and that won’t be a problem. Everyone has your number in their phone, and everyone promised to call you first when they find out anything. You’ll also get a group text if any of us discovers anything helpful.”

  “I need to talk to Terry Lennox, I rang him on his cell but there was no answer. Do you know where he’s playing tonight?”

  “I think he’s at the Venue tonight. There’s a big charity event going on and everybody will be there. I’m pretty sure Dog Farts is the entertainment. It’s probably started already but you can always catch him after the show or maybe even between sets.”

  “Thanks Annie, I don’t know what I’d do without your help.”

  ~~~~

  Venue Scottsdale is a warehouse sized building at the south end of Craftsman Court, just down the street from Dos Gringos and about two blocks from the office. I first went there in high school to see a rock concert by George Thorogood and the Delaware Destroyers and I’ve been back many times since. The name on the building has changed a couple of times over the years but it’s always been a great place to see a show.

  As I walked down Craftsman Court, I passed Dos Gringos and the smell of grilling carne asada hit me. I took
a brief detour into the bar for a quick Diet Pepsi and a three-pack of street tacos.

  Twenty minutes later, I was standing at the box office at Venue Scottsdale paying an outrageous cover so I could get in and talk to Terry Lennox. As I was paying, I heard the muffled booming sound from inside the club showing the band had already started its first set.

  I briefly stopped before I went in and tried to figure out which charity would be getting the money that was being collected. I looked over all of the posters and asked several people but all I could discover was the name of the foundation, which was apparently run by one of the old money Scottsdale elite. No one had a clue what the charity actually was.

  Included in the price of the cover charge was a looped “awareness ribbon” pin. The ribbon, which was green and blue with a yellow stripe, was apparently the symbol for whatever disease or social injustice the event was supporting. Almost everyone had one on to show how much they cared. I put mine in my purse and walked in.

  The interior of Venue Scottsdale is a large atrium surrounded by big open balconies that ring the second floor. The stage is at the front of the atrium. Off to either side are tables, game areas, and well-stocked bars. The club was over half full and more people were coming in by the minute.

  As I walked through the atrium, I saw that Dog Farts were on the stage, under a dozen colored and flashing lights. They were playing a lively cover of an old Nelly song called Hot in Herre, a great song about dancing and partying until you got so hot you had to take your clothes off. The crowd was really into it and the dance floor in front of the stage was packed. But, as far as I could tell, everyone still had their clothes on.

  Looking at the band, they looked like a mix of an eighty’s hair band and a contemporary pop group. Most of the band members were dressed in coordinated and stylish outfits of purple shirts and black pants that made them look like a group.

  The exception was Terry, who was dressed in skin-tight white leather pants and a billowing, long-sleeve, fire engine red silk top. The shirt was unbuttoned down to his naval, exposing his well-developed chest. Terry’s blond hair was loosely curled and hung down to his shoulders. When Terry smiled, his teeth were a bright white that showed to the back of the atrium. I could see why so many women were initially attracted to him. If I hadn’t already known that he was a total idiot, I might have fallen for him myself.

  Like Terry, the other band members also had long and curly hair. I noticed that several fans had been placed around the stage that caused everyone’s hair to blow in the breeze as they played. It was a nice effect.

  As the band played, I noticed they spent a lot of time dancing around the stage with exaggerated movements and a lot of hair flipping. Personally, I’ve always liked a band that pays more attention to the music than to the onstage antics but that’s just me. The crowd really seemed to love their dancing and clowning around.

  The Nelly song ended and the band next did one of their own songs. It was good and I could see why Sophie had bought their CD. It was a ballad and Terry sung it with sweetness and genuine emotion.

  As I moved closer to the stage, I noticed several of the women near the front were looking up at Terry, with mingled looks of passion and lust. Unfortunately, I knew these women were going to make my task of talking to Terry tonight that much harder.

  It was obvious I wasn’t going to be able to get near Terry while he was playing and I wasn’t even going to try to get his attention while he was on the stage. I instead went up to the bar to wait until the set was over.

  Beer and soft drinks were included in the cover. I asked for a Diet Pepsi but all they had was Coke. My lips were still burning and tingling from the hot sauce that I had dumped on the tacos. I drank the Coke in big slurps until the fire on my lips was mostly out.

  The band’s first set ended at about ten-thirty. I had been hoping they would circulate through the crowd between sets. Unfortunately, Terry and the rest of the band quickly disappeared backstage.

  I went around to the back, trying to figure out how I could also get backstage. When I got there, I saw the door leading to the back was blocked by a group of ten or fifteen woman, all of whom were trying to talk their way past two large and extremely bored looking bouncers.

  Dead end. Damn.

  I started feeling a little down at my lack of progress. I made my way back to my stool at the bar and ordered another Coke. As I sipped it, I kept glancing around to see if I knew anyone in the club but I didn’t recognize a soul.

  After about a half an hour, the band came back onstage to a loud round of cheering and applause. If anything, the crowd had grown between sets and the club was now packed.

  As the band played, I noticed there were two distinct groups in the room. The first was the older and better-dressed group most likely associated with whatever charitable cause the foundation supported. They all had their awareness ribbons proudly displayed on their chests and most of them had a mixed drink of some sort in their hands.

  The other group was clearly here for the music. They were mostly drinking the complementary beer in red Solo cups. Their awareness ribbons were stuck wherever they thought would look the most outrageous. Both groups were doing their best to stay apart from the other, even when on the dance floor.

  About half an hour into the set, I saw Pammy, Annie, Sonia, and Elle come into the club. It was easy to tell when they came in, the crowd always parted for these ladies. As usual, each was dressed in the perfect mix of class and sexy sophistication. Their hair and makeup were as perfect as if they had each spent an hour in front of the mirror, which maybe they had. They made walking in five-inch heels look effortless.

  I waved and they came over to the bar. As always, they arrived surrounded by a delicate cloud of mingled expensive perfumes.

  “Have you heard anything new about Jackie?” Pam asked.

  “Not a thing,” I said. “I suppose that Annie told you I’m also looking for Howard Spencer. He might have some additional information for us.”

  “Annie told us,” Elle said, “but so far there hasn’t been any word on either Jackie or on Howard.”

  “Sonia and I were at an art auction and a wedding reception today,” Pam said. “Everyone is worried sick about Jackie. Nobody thinks she had anything to do with Roger’s death, of course. In fact, most people are worried Jackie will be next if she’s not found soon. Unfortunately, we didn’t hear anything helpful. Annie told us you would want to talk to Terry Lennox tonight, so we thought we’d come here and report to you in person. Besides, about half of the money people in Scottsdale will be here tonight. It will be a good chance to ask around about Jackie.”

  “Thanks for your help. The tip you dug up about Howard last night could possibly lead somewhere. Well, that’s assuming anyone can find him. He’s been keeping a pretty low profile lately.”

  “Do you know what Howard has to do with Jackie?” Pam asked. “I know Howard and Roger used to be partners but I thought they dissolved the company a couple of years ago. I’ve seen Howard around the clubs occasionally, but that’s about it.”

  “I don’t know anything yet,” I said. “But his name keeps coming up and even the police are taking an interest in him. Talking to him could only help us find Jackie.”

  “We’re keeping an eye out and asking around,” Annie said. “If he’s out there, we’ll find him.”

  The women all got a mixed drink, then went off to work the room. I nursed my Coke for another ten minutes while scanning the crowd looking for anyone I knew. My eyes suddenly focused on a group of the charity sponsors. In the middle of the group was Margret Sternwood.

  Margret, or Muffy to her friends, is the widow of General Sternwood, one of original Scottsdale cattle barons and land developers who arrived in Arizona after World War II. She’s now into her eighties, but still seems as sharp as ever. She had on a beautiful blue chiffon dress with matching shoes and purse. As always, she was decked out in at least a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry.<
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  I had worked on an assignment a couple of months before where I had helped free Muffy’s grandson, Alex, from a couple of Russian thugs. Alex had then proposed to my friend, Danica Taylor, and they are soon to be married. Muffy was also in the process of building a new golf resort with Tony DiCenzo. She was a blend of old money toughness and old lady charm. I walked over to the group and Muffy recognized me right away.

  “Well, Laura Black,” Muffy said. “I haven’t seen you since we met at the auto auction and that was months ago. How have you been? You know, I never did get a chance to thank you properly for what you did for Alexander and me.”

  “I’ve been good and I was happy to help. Actually, I’m glad you’re here since. Tonight I’m working on something new. Do you have a minute to talk?”

  “Well, of course, dear,” Muffy said. “Let’s find somewhere quiet where we can chat.”

  We left the group and went over to an empty table on the side of the atrium. It was quiet enough so we could talk without having to yell at each other.

  “How’s the car you bought at the auction? It was a 1953 Ford custom roadster, wasn’t it?” I asked. “Have you taken it out for a road trip yet?”

  “Car’s like that don’t go on a road trip.” She said with a laugh. “Unless there’s a crew filming it for a movie. That car is going into the lobby of a new resort I’m putting up. I assume you heard about the details of that particular deal?” As she asked the question, she gave a sly smile and her eyes lit up with a mischievous twinkle.

  “I’ve heard all about it,” I said. “And, I hear Alex is going to play a part in running it.”

  “You heard right. You know, Alex really seems to have come around the past couple of months. He’s more mature and responsible than ever. If I’d known then what I know now, I would have hired a couple of Russians to beat the tar out of him years ago. It would have saved everyone a lot of trouble.”