“How long have you known Ruby?” I said.
“A bit over two years—she dated my cousin Jaden, and we stayed in touch even after Jaden broke up with her.”
“And you’ve always been close?” I said.
“Yes.”
“How close?”
“We’re good friends—we trust each other.”
“And… anything more than that?”
Richard smiled. “If you’re asking me if we ever had anything romantic, the answer is no. I wasn’t interested in Ruby, and she wasn’t interested in me. She was just… I guess, see, you meet a lot of people in Vegas. You meet a lot of people at work. But everyone wants something from you. And it’s hard to choose people to trust. Ruby never wanted anything from me, and she was an open book. I could trust her, and I liked hanging out with her. It’s just one of those things.”
I looked at Ian, and he shrugged. Richard and Ruby’s friendship really did seem to be platonic, with no hint or possibility of romance.
“What did you do after you found out that April was seeing other men?” I said.
Richard grimaced and looked off into the distance. “At first I didn’t believe the cops, and then I did, especially when Ruby told me it was true. I’d like to believe it wasn’t, that maybe April was just friends with these men. I try not to think about it.”
I nodded. “That’s understandable. Had April ever mentioned Vince or Adrian to you at all?”
Richard shook his head. “She never mentioned Adrian. When I’d asked her about her exes, she’d told me Vince was a bit of a nutcase, but she never seemed worried about him or anything.”
“Was there anyone she did seem worried about? Any enemies, anything in her life that stressed her out?”
“No,” said Richard. “Not that she mentioned.”
I asked him a few more questions about how he liked living in Vegas, and whether April had been acting unusually in the days before her death—which she hadn’t.
When we were about to say our goodbyes, Ian said, “I looked up your company. Seems like you’ve had quite a few ups and downs recently.”
Richard nodded. “We’re still finding our sea legs.”
“And your stock price has been all over the place.”
Richard shrugged. “There’s more to a company than its stock price.”
“You’re going to announce quarterly earnings in a few weeks. But you’ve had a hard time trying to expand into international markets, right?”
Richard shook his head. “I shouldn’t be talking about business. It’s all confidential until the actual earnings report.”
Ian nodded. “Well, I hope everything works out. It can’t be fun seeing your stock price go up and down like that.”
Richard shrugged. “I’m not interested in the stock price; like I said, there’s more to business than numbers and charts.”
“I’m sure there is,” I said, slightly bored by all this talk of stock prices and earnings. “Here’s my business card—I’d appreciate it if you gave me a call if you thought of anything else.”
“I don’t think I will,” said Richard. “I’ve gone over all this with the cops many times.”
“And did they talk with Serena Dove?”
“Just to verify my alibi. But you’re welcome to talk to her if you’d like to.”
“I’d like to,” I said, smiling politely. Something about Serena rubbed me the wrong way, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
Richard called Serena from his cell phone, and she showed up within a few seconds.
I was unnerved by how silently she appeared at the doorway, and how uncannily graceful she seemed.
“We’re finished with our chat,” Richard said to her, “but I think they’ve got a few questions for you.”
“Of course,” said Serena smoothly.
“We prefer to chat with you in private,” I said to Serena, who nodded.
“Follow me.” She walked down the hallway and turned left into a medium-sized functional-looking kitchen. There were appliances all around, a large refrigerator, and a huge, expensive-looking oven.
“Seems like a lot of work gets done here,” Ian said.
Serena nodded. “It’s the working kitchen. We don’t have barstools here, so I’m afraid I can’t offer you anywhere to sit.”
I’d seen this in a few of my wealthy client’s homes—a “working kitchen” that was away from the main living areas, and a fancy open-space kitchen whose sole purpose was to look pretty. The “working kitchen” fridge would be stocked with essentials, while the “show kitchen” fridge wouldn’t be stocked with anything more than beer, Evian, and perhaps an organic fruit juice or two.
There was silence for a few seconds as Ian and I looked around. A chopping board was laid out on the countertop, with a few carrots, apples, oranges, and a head of broccoli lying near it. I didn’t recognize half the appliances I saw, and as we looked around, Serena found a pristine white apron that she tied over her suit.
I found her comfort with the silence annoying. Most people get unnerved after a few seconds of silence and will start talking to filling the gaps—clearly, Serena felt no such compulsion.
Instead, I found myself saying, “How long have you been working for Richard?”
“Almost six months now,” said Serena.
She didn’t volunteer any more information, so I said, “And where were you before that?”
Serena smiled politely. “Here and there.”
Technically, there was nothing wrong with the way she was answering my questions, but I found her vagueness and confidence jarring. “Such as?”
Serena shrugged. “I can’t remember my previous employers off the top of my head. But I’m sure Richard will be able to provide you a full list of my references if you ask him for it.”
“And if I ask you for it instead?”
Serena tilted her head to one side. “I would have to look through my files, but I’m sure I could find the list.”
“You don’t even remember the last person you worked for?”
“Of course I do,” said Serena lightly. “I worked for the McCloughans for a bit over a year, and Mr. Chen and his family for a year or so before that.”
“And you don’t have their phone numbers handy?”
“No,” said Serena lightly, “because I’ve never needed to call them recently.”
The names meant nothing to me, and perhaps I shouldn’t be so concerned about Serena’s past work history. Instead, I needed to focus on the matter at hand. “You said that you saw Richard come in on the evening of April’s death, and that he was home all day?”
Serena nodded. “Yes.”
I frowned. “What exactly did you see?”
“I saw Richard come home a bit before eight. I didn’t see him leave until nine o’clock the next morning. As far as I knew, he spent most of his time in his study, hard at work. I’d prepared a dinner for him, and he might have come down to the kitchen once or twice to help himself to drinks.”
“Could he have left the house without you knowing?”
Serena shrugged. “I have two rooms—a bedroom and a living area—near the front of the house. I would have heard anyone coming or going, but of course, Richard might have opened a window in his bedroom and walked out that way.”
“What about an alarm system? Or a back door?”
“I keep the back door locked, and the key with me. I prefer that Richard only uses the front door, for security reasons. We do have an alarm, but it’s not video monitoring—it’s just one of those alarms that sounds if someone tries to break in.”
I nodded. “And you’re absolutely sure that Richard was home all night?”
“Absolutely,” said Serena.
I watched as Serena began to chop up the head of broccoli, followed by the apple.
“You seem too qualified to be a housekeeper,” said Ian.
Serena looked at him and smiled. “How do you mean?”
Ian shrugged. �
��Most housekeepers don’t wear designer suits.”
“I’m just trying to look the part.”
“What exactly is your role here?” I said. “You don’t look like the kind of person who would go around scrubbing toilets.”
Serena moved on from the apple to the oranges, which she chopped into large pieces and began to peel. “I can do whatever is necessary. Of course, I try to make sure that I hire a reliable cleaner who’s not about to let me down and force me to do their work myself.”
“What about chefs and gardeners?”
Serena nodded. “Same deal with chefs, though I’m not too good at gardening.”
“But how come you’re the one doing the chopping today?”
Serena looked up from the orange she was cutting and said, “It’s the chef’s day off today. My job is to make sure the household continues to run smoothly, even if someone isn’t here.”
“I can’t believe Richard—a young, single man—needs such a large staff.”
Serena tilted her head thoughtfully. “That’s true. Most of my previous employers have had kids, or large families. There’s more to do in those households—I paid all the bills, arranged for kids’ birthdays and play dates, and dealt with the schools. Pretty much everything a stay-at-home mom would do.”
I nodded, her role making sense to me now. “Everything that a trophy wife with an unlimited budget for staff would do.”
Serena smiled at my understanding. “You can think of it that way.”
“But you don’t have that much work to do for Richard.”
Serena nodded. “Yes, Richard doesn’t need all my services. It would be different if he had kids, or a wife, or even a live-in girlfriend…”
“So what do you do, if you don’t have enough work here at Richard’s?” said Ian. “You don’t have any play dates to arrange.”
“I try to make myself useful,” said Serena. “I hired an interior designer to make his house more appealing, and I encouraged him to see a stylist to get better clothes, and to visit a jewelry shop to get some nice watches, so he can look the part. I bought expensive china, and I make sure that his dinner parties go off flawlessly.”
“He has dinner parties?” I said, hardly believing it.
“Perhaps dinner parties is the wrong word,” said Serena. “He has to entertain clients sometimes—especially international clients, who expect to be treated to a home-cooked meal and an intimate conversation over post-dinner port and coffee.”
“And you help Richard look the part.”
Serena nodded. “Exactly. A good employee understands what her employer needs, and helps him to achieve that.”
“And what is it in Richard’s case?”
“Impressing business associates, having a good quality of life, doing well at work.”
I nodded, impressed despite myself as Serena began to peel the carrots that had been lying on the countertop.
“You seem very loyal to your employer,” I said. “Would that loyalty include lying for him?”
Serena shook her head. “I would never work for someone with illegitimate business interests. But I know you mean, would I lie about Richard’s alibi? I don’t need to—I’ve already been told that he’s got time-stamped emails from when he was at home.”
I nodded, believing her. “And you enjoy working for Richard?”
“So far,” said Serena.
“But once you’re done with all this—setting up his house, helping him look better—aren’t you afraid Richard won’t need you anymore?”
Serena smiled thinly. “If he doesn’t need me, he doesn’t. But in my experience, successful men who don’t want to get married, soon get a live-in girlfriend, and they start being more domestic.”
I frowned, wondering if she had had any romantic designs on Richard herself. “And what about you? Are you married?”
Serena shook her head. “I’m afraid not. Romance and I don’t get along.”
“Have you ever been married?”
Serena shook her head again. “No.”
“What about an affair with any of your employers?”
Serena laughed, a genuine, light-hearted laugh. “That would be highly inappropriate, given that most of my employers have been married, or in relationships. I don’t like getting involved with employers—I like my work, and I don’t want to jeopardize it.”
“But working for all these rich men,” I said, “you must have been in some interesting situations.”
Serena looked at me seriously. “I know it might look that way, but the truth is, I’m invisible to the people I work for. Rich people never notice the staff.”
“And you always dress this way? Neutral colors, no makeup, your hair like this?” It was as though she made an effort to look less pretty than she really was.
Serena shrugged. “I’m not vain. And I’d rather blend into the background than have some jealous trophy wife accuse me of trying to sleep with her husband.”
I should have been mollified by her answer, but instead, Serena’s obvious intelligence and well-planned behavior made me feel even more uneasy. This woman seemed capable of anything, and I felt that she must know she was wasting her talents by being a housekeeper to the rich.
“Did you know April?” said Ian.
Serena nodded. “She seemed like a lovely young lady. I thought she would be moving in soon.”
“What made you think that?”
“Richard told me,” said Serena. “He said that he would like to make some space for his girlfriend to keep her stuff once she moved in, and that she might want to redecorate or bring a few of her belongings.”
“And what did you say?”
Serena smiled. “I want the best for my employer. I liked April, and I thought that Richard would be happy if she moved in, and a happy boss is always good.”
“How well did you know April?”
“Not that well,” admitted Serena. “I’d see her when she came to visit Richard, but we didn’t talk too much. She seemed like a lovely girl—sweet and uncomplicated.”
I nodded. “And what about Ruby? Richard’s friend?”
“I’ve seen her a couple of times, when she came over to talk to Richard.”
“Did she ever stay the night?”
Serena shook her head. “No, and she never stayed here for more than a few hours. Mostly, she and Richard would hang out, talking quietly. Once I saw them discussing some printouts.”
“Like work printouts?”
“I don’t know what they’d been working on,” said Serena. “Ruby was a nurse, and I never got a good look at the printouts.”
“And you’re sure that there was nothing romantic between them?”
“As sure as I can be,” said Serena. “I never noticed any chemistry between them or any sparks. Of course, I’ve only been working here for six months, so I don’t know everything.”
“Did you ever hear Ruby talking about April?” I said.
Serena shook her head. “It’s not my business to eavesdrop on my employers’ conversations. And if I ever was within earshot, I never heard them talking about anything worth remembering.”
I thanked Serena for her time and said, “What’re you going to do with these chopped-up fruits and veggies?”
“I’m making Richard freshly squeezed green juice. And after that, I’m going to get to work on dinner.”
Ian and I said our goodbyes, and Serena led us to the front door and watched as we got into the car.
As I drove away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Serena Dove than she let on.
Chapter 7
Although it was getting late, Café Allegro was busy. April’s former workplace was near the hospital and seemed to cater to hospital staff, visitors, and the occasional tourist. It was industrial-chic inside: a polished gray cement floor, black tables and chairs, and exposed lightbulbs hanging overhead. The place smelled of coffee and sandwiches, and the hum of conversation drowned out whatever soft music was p
iping in the background.
The staff scurried around, taking orders, cleaning tables, and serving food. I noticed a man behind the large coffee machine, pulling shots and making drinks. He was tall and lanky, with long brownish-blond hair and green eyes.
He looked like the kind of man who played the guitar and went to environment-protection rallies on weekends—not at all the kind of hunk a girl with a rich boyfriend would be unable to resist. But perhaps he had a sort of artistic attractiveness to him that April appreciated, and that I was unaware of.
Apart from Adrian, there were four waitstaff in the café—one of them manning the register, and the other three hurrying around.
Ian and I introduced ourselves, and they all managed to find time in between their work to chat with us about April—but unfortunately, they didn’t have anything new to tell us.
Ryan had already told us that all the waitstaff except for Adrian had alibis for the night April was killed, and that turned out to be true; they had all been out that night with friends who could vouch for their whereabouts.
I was sure the cops had already gone through all the alibis, and I didn’t want to waste my time on that, so I focused on asking everyone what they knew about April.
Unfortunately for us, it turned out that April had been friendly and sweet, but she had mostly kept to herself. None of the staff knew that she’d been dating the CEO of a tech firm, and they’d only learned of her affair with Adrian after the cops had asked them about it.
Amy, a petite brunette, assured us that they knew nothing more about April. “The whole thing was a shock to us,” she said, echoing the sentiments of all the staff. “None of us knew what had happened until we heard about it from the cops.”
After a while, Ian and I gave up on learning anything new from the staff and headed over to talk to Adrian.
In between frothing milk and filling drink orders, Adrian managed to tell us about his relationship with April.
“We got together every now and then,” he said, not bothering to hide the facts. “I’ve already gone over this with the police. It was nothing serious—I knew she was dating Richard, and she found him boring and wanted a bit more fun. Nothing wrong with that. I wasn’t looking for anything serious either.”
High Stakes and Hazelnut Cupcakes in Las Vegas Page 5