Plymouth Undercover

by Pamela M. Kelley

  “That’s true, but most people can’t resist talking, whether it’s to clear their name or to convince you that they aren’t guilty. So, innocent or not, they usually agree to a chat. Sometimes they don’t say yes right away, and I have to pour on the Mickey charm and give them a second or a third chance.” He grinned. “They usually come around.”

  “There’s another person we might want to add to our list,” Emma said. “I don’t think it’s anything, but my next-door neighbor, Brady Smith, knew Nancy pretty well too. My friend, Tess, who is a trainer at the gym, told me he and Nancy were workout buddies, and maybe more. She said they used to come in together several times a week before work.”

  “I remember Brady. Did you ask him about it? He was very handsome, if I remember. Dark blond hair?” Cindy asked.

  Emma nodded. “Yep, that’s Brady. He’s actually better-looking now. We chatted the other night, and it came up in conversation. He shared that they actually dated, but just once, and realized they were better as friends. So, I don’t think there’s anything there.”

  Mickey didn’t look as convinced. “We’ll have another chat with Mr. Brady. I’ll question him and see if his story matches what he told you. Not to scare either of you, but Ted Bundy was a handsome, charming fellow too.”

  Emma supposed that Mickey was right and they should do a more formal interview with Brady. Because she knew him, she agreed to make the call to ask if they could come out for a chat. Mickey had already called Peter, and he agreed to talk to them but wasn’t available until the end of the week. Emma knew that Brady wasn’t traveling this week, as she’d seen him heading out to the gym that morning.

  He answered on the first ring and sounded amused when she asked if she and Mickey could come out and talk to him about Nancy.

  “Sure, I have nothing to hide. Happy to help. I’m working at home all week. Swing by this afternoon if you like.”

  “Will do. Thanks, Brady.” She ended the call and turned to Mickey, who was openly eavesdropping.

  “What did he say?”

  “He said he’d be happy to chat with us. We can stop by this afternoon.”

  “Excellent.”

  Mickey got through to Sheila at the law office and she agreed to meet with him Friday afternoon and also scheduled fifteen minutes for him to speak with Justin, too.

  “It’s probably best if I go alone, since you temped there and all,” Mickey said.

  Emma nodded. “Right. Rachel said there might be another assignment coming up either this week or next. Just a few days, so that might be a good idea, too.”

  “Can’t hurt. Especially if it does turn out to be Sheila’s husband—you might pick up something that they don’t reveal in my conversation. Maybe you should suggest after-work drinks one day,” Mickey suggested. “A little liquor loosens lips. Or so they say.”

  “Are you speaking from experience?” Emma laughed.

  “Well, not personal experience. I don’t ever have more than one drink. But more than once I’ve had conversations in bars with subjects, and once they have a few drinks, they sometimes share quite a bit.”

  “Maybe I should pick up a six-pack of beer on the way to Brady’s?” Emma joked.

  “Not a bad idea, if it wasn’t early afternoon,” Mickey agreed.

  After a quick lunch, Emma’s mother headed off to teach an afternoon yoga class and Mickey and Emma went to visit Brady.

  White Horse Beach was quiet when they walked down the long wooden walkway along the sand that led to their cottages. It was a Tuesday, and everyone was at work. Mid-May was still too early in the season to be very busy with tourists. They parked in Emma’s parking spot in the lot just off the street, and Emma noticed that Brady’s car was there too. When they reached his cottage, his back door was open a crack and Emma saw Oscar saunter by. He glanced at them, twitched his tail and turned toward the beach. Emma wondered if he’d just left Brady’s house. Maybe he was Brady’s cat.

  Mickey knocked on the door and they waited. A moment later, a voice hollered for them to come in. Emma opened the door and stepped inside. Brady’s cottage was a mirror image of hers. It was the same layout and size, just decorated differently. Where Emma’s was all light, beachy colors and lots of white, Brady’s was much darker. His hardwood floors were deep brown, there was hunter green trim on the windows, and black granite counters in the small kitchen.

  They walked through the living room to Brady’s deck, where he was sitting at a table with an umbrella and had two laptops in front of him and his cell phone in the middle. The living room was also dark, with chocolate brown leather furniture and charcoal-colored bookcases lining one wall. The whole cottage had a very masculine, somewhat cold feel. There was nothing out of place, no clutter anywhere. It almost looked like no one lived there. Though, Emma supposed with all his traveling, Brady wasn’t around much to mess it up.

  “Hey, sorry I didn’t come greet you. I was just finishing up a call.” He stood and held out his hand, and Mickey shook it. “I’m all yours. Have a seat. Can I get you anything? Coffee, water?”

  “I’m good, thanks,” Mickey said.

  “I’m fine, too. Thanks, Brady,” Emma said.

  They settled across from Brady at the round, wooden table and he returned to his seat.

  “So, you guys are back on the case. Does that mean the police haven’t come up with anything?” Brady asked.

  Emma opened her mouth to speak and give him the update that they knew, but Mickey beat her to it, and didn’t share much with Brady at all.

  “They haven’t really found anything, yet. Belinda, Nancy’s mother, said the police told her that everyone they’ve talked to had an alibi. So, we’re just starting from scratch and talking to everyone again, to see if there’s anything we can find out. Did you talk to the police already?”

  Brady shook his head. “No, they never contacted me.”

  “Sheila, Nancy’s best friend, gave the police a list of people that Nancy dated. But your name wasn’t there. Should it have been? Emma mentioned that you told her you dated Nancy.”

  Brady smiled, that easy slow grin as he glanced at Emma. “Yeah, I did mention that to Emma. Nancy and I didn’t really date, though. That’s probably why Sheila didn’t mention it. We went on one date. Then realized we were better as friends. And we both liked to work out and had similar schedules.”

  Mickey smiled and leaned back. “Who realized it first?” he asked casually.

  “Oh, Nancy did. Like I told Emma, I would have gone out with her again, given it a shot, but we really didn’t have that kind of chemistry. I enjoyed her company though.”

  “So, you weren’t upset then, or hurt?”

  Brady chuckled. “Not at all. She actually made it easy for me. It probably wouldn’t have worked. So, she was right. She was the one that suggested we be workout buddies. I had to drive right by her house on the way to gym, so it was her way of being accountable. She needed that extra push to make sure she got to the gym.”

  “And you didn’t?”

  “Not really. I’m pretty disciplined about things. I get to the gym at least four or five times a week. It’s a great stress reliever.”

  “I’ve heard that too. Maybe I should give it a try.” They all laughed at that. But then Mickey added, “Are you under a lot of stress? Work-related or otherwise?”

  Brady glanced out at the ocean for a moment before answering. “Isn’t everyone? I like my job, but it has its moments. I’m the one that hears it when the technology that I implemented doesn’t work. It’s usually not an issue, but when something goes wrong, it can be big. That’s when I’ll have to drop everything and fly across the country to wherever the client is and make sure everything gets fixed, ASAP.”

  “That does sound stressful,” Mickey agreed. “Were you even around the night Nancy went missing? Emma says you travel a lot.”

  “I do. In spurts. This is a good week. I don’t have any travel scheduled until late next week. The night Nancy w
ent missing, I think I was in Colorado. That was a big project.”

  “Did Nancy ever talk to you about her personal life? Anyone she felt threatened by?” Mickey asked.

  “We talked some. I knew about the last two guys she dated before she died. But she never said much about either of them. They were kind of vanilla, not memorable, if you know what I mean? It didn’t last long with either of them. Nancy worked long hours, like I do. That can be hard. But she was on good terms with both of them. Really with everyone.”

  “So, she never mentioned being at odds with anyone?”

  Brady shook his head. “No, never. Our conversations were never that deep. We chatted about easy stuff, working out, restaurants we liked. I really don’t even know who else she hung out with, other than Sheila. They used to have drinks after work sometimes. I don’t think Nancy had much of a social life.”

  “Okay, that’s very helpful. Is there anything else you can think of that we should know?”

  “That’s all I know. Have you talked to Sheila yet?”

  “No, not yet. We’re talking on Friday.”

  “Good. Sheila’s the one to really pump for information. She knew Nancy better than just about anyone. At least that’s the impression I got from Nancy. I never actually met Sheila.”

  Mickey stood and glanced at Emma and she stood too.

  “Well, we won’t take up anymore of your time. Thank you for meeting with us.”

  “My pleasure. I’ll walk you guys out.”

  Emma remembered that she meant to ask Brady something.

  “Brady, do you have a cat, by any chance? I noticed an orange cat by your back door when we arrived. And it’s been visiting me every morning.”

  “No, I don’t have a cat. I’ve seen that one around too. It’s probably a stray. It’s not all that safe for stray animals around here, though. Too many coyotes. I’ve seen them run along the beach now and then in the early hours or late night. Probably why we don’t see too many cats.”

  “Probably so,” Emma had forgotten that coyotes were sometimes an issue. She decided it might be time to invite Oscar inside.

  Chapter 13

  The rest of the week flew by, and before Cindy knew it, Friday had arrived. Originally, Emma and Mickey were going to be meeting with Peter, Sheila’s ex-husband that morning, but Rachel had called earlier in the week and said that Sheila specifically had requested Emma if she was available to come in that Thursday and Friday. So, while Emma was at the law office, Cindy assumed that Mickey would go alone. But he had a different idea.

  “I think you should come with me,” he suggested as they sat drinking coffee in the office Friday morning. Cindy had brought in some fresh cut fruit, and while Mickey probably would have preferred a donut, he happily took some cantaloupe.

  “Me? What would you want me there for?”

  “I think it will be good for you, and for me. It’s good to have another set of ears. You can listen and take notes while I chat with Peter. It might be interesting for you, too.”

  “I don’t know.” It very much felt out of Cindy’s comfort zone. Yet, she was a little intrigued at the same time.

  “What else do you have to do? You don’t have a class until later this afternoon, right? We’re seeing him at eleven and will be done by noon. Might be fun.”

  “Okay, I’ll do it!” Cindy grabbed a notebook and two pens in case one ran out of ink. She slipped both into her tote bag and followed Mickey to his convertible.

  “Do you want me to drive?” she offered. Mickey’s car was adorable, but small and it was a little windy.

  “No, I’ll drive. You might want to just tie your hair back, though.”

  She did as suggested, pulling her hair into a ponytail and securing it with a hair band she kept in her tote and used for her yoga classes.

  She climbed into the car. It was low to the ground, but comfortable. Once they were buckled in, Mickey backed out of the lot and headed up Samoset Street and turned onto Route 3, the highway that led to either Boston or Cape Cod. They headed toward the Cape and went four exits down to the most southern Plymouth exit. They were going to a condo at White Cliffs, where Peter lived.

  Soon after they merged onto the highway, Mickey stepped on the gas and the car kicked into gear.

  “She’s got some nice power, huh?” Mickey said proudly.

  “Very impressive,” Cindy agreed. It was a smooth-riding car, and it was fun to ride along with the top down, feeling the wind in her hair. She felt young and carefree and she could see why Mickey liked the car so much.

  Less than twenty minutes later, they pulled up to the gate at White Cliffs, a private condo and golf community. Mickey had to announce who they were there to see and then the gate lifted and they drove in and found Peter’s unit and parked in a visitor spot.

  Mickey led the way to the front door and a moment later it opened and Peter invited them inside. Cindy was surprised to see that he was quite a bit older than Sheila, who she knew was around forty, like Nancy. Peter looked to be in his mid to late fifties. He seemed a little uncomfortable as he invited them to sit at the kitchen table. She tried to put herself in his shoes though, as this wasn’t exactly a social call. And while they weren’t the police, they were still talking to him to investigate Nancy’s murder, and he was a suspect.

  He was average height and weight, medium brown hair, slight pot belly. He looked like most men his age, Cindy’s age. He wasn’t someone that would stand out in a crowd.

  Mickey thanked him for making the time to see them, introduced Cindy and explained again that they were private detectives, hired by Nancy’s mother.

  “I know you’ve already talked to the police. We’re just doing our due diligence, so I apologize in advance if it feels like you are repeating yourself. It’s all new to us though, and we’re talking to everyone that Nancy knew to try to piece things together.”

  “I understand. I want to be helpful and get to the bottom of this too. I can’t imagine who would want to hurt that girl.”

  “You knew her then? Nancy? I know she was a friend of your ex-wife, Sheila.”

  Peter nodded. “I knew who she was, of course. But I didn’t really know her. I think I met her twice, when I was in the office and in court to finalize our divorce. I just know what Sheila told me. She thought the world of Nancy.”

  “So you didn’t see her at all the day she went missing?” Mickey asked casually.

  Peter shook his head. “No. I never saw her that day. I was working for one thing and it was a split day, so I had about a four-hour window in the middle of my shift. I did some grocery shopping and ran some errands. Then went back to work until about midnight, when the last train left Boston and arrived in Kingston. I told the police the same thing.”

  “Right,” Mickey agreed. “What about your ex-wife, Sheila? Did she mention anything about this to you? Have any ideas at all what might have happened to Nancy or who she might have been with?”

  Peter shook his head. “No. She didn’t talk about that at all with me. Sheila and I, well we don’t really talk much, other than about picking up the kids.”

  “Divorces are tough, huh? Nancy handled the divorce for your wife, I think?”

  “She did,” Peter agreed.

  “No resentment there, toward Sheila, or maybe even Nancy? I heard she was a pretty tough lawyer and divorce can be expensive.”

  Cindy noticed a muscle flex in Peter’s jaw. He looked down and away before answering the question.

  “It wasn’t an easy time for us. There was bitterness, but it was between me and Sheila. It had nothing to do with Nancy. She was just doing her job.” He sighed. “And you’re right. She was very good at it. But I have no idea who might have done this to her. None at all. I told the police the same thing.”

  “Very good. I think we’re done here then. I do appreciate your time.” Mickey fished a business card out of his wallet and handed it to Peter. “If you think of anything else, anything at all, please give me a c
all. I’d appreciate it.”

  Peter glanced at the card, then picked it up and stuck it into his wallet. “I’ll do that.”

  Mickey stood, “Alrighty then. We’ll let you get back to your day. Thanks again.”

  When they were buckled in the car and ready to go, Mickey turned to Cindy and asked, “So, what did you think? Is he our guy?”

  Cindy shook her head. “I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think so. He seems a bit lost, and sad, but I can’t picture him killing Nancy. He doesn’t really seem to have a motive.”

  “No, he doesn’t, does he? At least not one that we know of, anyway.” Mickey grinned. “So, are you glad you came? That was fun, right?”

  Cindy laughed. “I don’t know that I’d use the word fun, but yes, I’m glad I came. It was very interesting.”

  “I knew you’d like it.”

  Friday at noon, Emma had just walked out front to cover the reception desk for Alyssa’s lunch break when a familiar face walked through the door of the law firm. Mickey was there for his meeting with Sheila and then Justin.

  He winked at Emma and she laughed as she called Sheila to let her know Mickey was there.

  “She’ll be right with you.”

  “Excellent.” Mickey walked around the lobby looking at the photographs of Justin with various famous people. Sheila came out a moment later, and they went back to her office. Emma wished she was a fly on the wall to listen in on that conversation, especially the one with Justin. He was only scheduled to spend fifteen minutes with Mickey, but it went longer and almost an hour later, Justin walked Mickey out and slapped him lightly on the back like they were old friends. They were both laughing and looked like they were having a great time. Mickey left and Justin turned to go back to his office. He stopped when he saw Emma.

  “Sheila says you’re doing a great job. Come out with us later today. We’re going to shut down early and head over to the 110 Grill for Friday happy hour. Drinks are on me.”