Dreadful

by Jana DeLeon

  “Let me check…I’m afraid he’s already scheduled for later this morning. He has an eight-thirty opening. Can you make it here by then?”

  “That would be great. I’ll see you shortly.”

  She hung up before the receptionist could ask her name. If news of Reynolds’s death had circulated back to Eric, she didn’t want him ducking out of their appointment. One thing she’d learned quickly is that a lot of people didn’t want to talk to private investigators any more than they did the police. Even if they didn’t have anything to hide. So many people simply didn’t want to be involved in anything sordid. This way wasn’t exactly honest, but she’d apologize when she got there. If he told her to get lost after that, then so be it.

  She headed into her bedroom to throw on some clothes, and her phone rang. It was Jackson.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “I’ll agree with the morning part,” he replied.

  “Long night, huh? What time did you get in?”

  “We got back from Baton Rouge around ten but went straight to the station to make some notes and see if forensics had left anything for us. It’s not breaking the rules to tell you there’s nothing to tell. No trace evidence on Reynolds’s body. Death was due to blows to the head.”

  “It really sucks when all this cool technology we have now doesn’t yield anything.”

  “Tell me about it. Especially when you have victims’ families watching television and thinking we can solve cases in the time it takes to make dinner.”

  “How were Reynolds’s parents? Emotionally, I mean.” She knew Jackson would never presume she was asking for case information, but it didn’t hurt to clarify.

  “Shocked. His mother is devastated. His father is upset but also angry that Cody might have been involved in something that brought it on. He didn’t cut him much slack in that area. I get the impression he was strict when it came to morals and ethics.”

  “It’s got to be a difficult thing to reconcile—losing a child but because of bad choices he made. Assuming that’s what this shakes out to be, of course.”

  “At this point, I just want an answer. As long as this file doesn’t go on a shelf next to Caitlyn’s, I can live with whatever that answer is.”

  Shaye put the phone on her dresser and pressed the Speaker button. “I have an interview in twenty-five minutes, so I’m dressing and talking, if that’s okay.”

  “Anyone interesting?”

  “A guy Cody was friends with in high school. It’s a long shot, but he’s in New Orleans so I figured why not.”

  “Reynolds’s father gave us the first name of a guy they met once—a friend from New Orleans, probably military buddy. I’m going to try to run him down today.”

  Shaye pulled on jeans and a New Orleans Saints T-shirt and sat to put on her tennis shoes. “I talked to Jenny, Marisa, and Rick. None of them want me to stop the investigation.”

  “We’ll probably talk to them today or tomorrow. Did any of them know about Caitlyn and Reynolds?”

  “No. Unless they’re all professional actors, they seemed shocked. Jenny was probably the calmest about it all, but I don’t think she’s running at full capacity. Marisa was shaken and I don’t think Rick liked it at all, but he’s going along with what Marisa wants to do. I think he just wants it all over.”

  “Based on what you’ve told me about his situation, I get that. I’ll let you go so you can make your appointment. I have no idea what my day will look like, but I’d like to see you tonight if I get off at a decent hour and don’t think I’ll fall asleep within five minutes of walking in.”

  “I’ll take the five minutes if I can get it. Take care of yourself today. You and Grayson are both running on near empty.”

  “Job-related hazard, right? I know I don’t have to say it, but I’m going to anyway—be careful. I’ll call later and let you know how tonight looks.”

  “Sounds good.” She grabbed her phone off the dresser and hurried into the kitchen, lifting her keys and purse from the counter as she went. She had twenty minutes to get to Pellerin’s office. It was only five miles or so away, but that was five miles in the French Quarter in work traffic. Every second counted.

  She pulled away from the curb, trying to decide on the route of least resistance, and took a right at the end of the street. This was the longer way around, but she was fairly certain the shorter way had a piece of street under construction. That was a sure way to up your aggravation level, and the last thing she wanted to do was arrive at Pellerin’s office rushed and frustrated.

  Her choice proved to be a good one, and she parked across the street from the building with five minutes to spare. She crossed the street and headed inside, smiling at the receptionist, who looked up from her paperwork, her eyes widening.

  “You’re Shaye Archer,” the young woman said.

  “Yes. I have an appointment with Eric Pellerin.”

  “Of course. We spoke earlier but I forgot to get your name.”

  Shaye smiled. “That was my fault. I was in such a hurry to get out the door that I completely forgot and hung up.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. I just told Eric I’d let him know when you were here.” She picked up the phone and had a brief conversation, then sent Shaye through the door behind her and down a hall to his office.

  He rose from his chair as she walked in and extended his hand. “Eric Pellerin, and you’re Shaye Archer. Sorry, I recognized you from the news.”

  “That’s all right. A lot of people do.”

  He waved at a set of chairs in front of his desk and she sat. “I imagine that gets tiring. It seems that those who want the spotlight constantly struggle to get it and those who value their privacy sometimes have a hard time getting out of it.”

  She studied him for a moment. “That’s very perceptive.”

  He shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. “I had a cousin I was close to. She had an, uh, situation that brought unwanted attention. She’d always been such a private person, and I saw how difficult it was for her.”

  “I hope she’s all right.”

  He smiled. “She’s fantastic, thank you for asking. She was a fighter, like you. Sometimes the human spirit amazes me. She’s a big fan of yours. I can’t wait to tell her I met you in person.”

  Shaye smiled. “Well, you might not be as thrilled when I tell you I’m not really here for a loan.”

  “I didn’t figure. You could probably write a check for most anything in the city. Given your profession, I assume you’re here about an investigation, but I can’t imagine what I might know. Frankly, the anticipation is killing me.”

  “The truth is, you’re a long shot, but I don’t have a lot to go on. I’m going to take you back in history for a bit. Back to high school, as a matter of fact. I’d like to talk about Cody Reynolds.”

  Pellerin leaned back in his chair. “That is taking it back a bit. Is he under investigation for something? I guess you can’t tell me that, right?”

  “If that was the case, then no, I couldn’t tell you. But in this case, it doesn’t apply. I’m sorry to say that Cody was murdered yesterday in Metairie Cemetery, and I think his death might have something to do with a case I’m working. But since I don’t know much about him, I’m hoping to get more information to help determine whether his death is related to my case or something else entirely. He seems to have been one of those private people we were just discussing.”

  “Murdered? Wow. I take it the motive wasn’t obvious, so that lets out robbery and any other common crime.” He shook his head. “I don’t really know what I can tell you. Cody and I were friends in high school until he dropped out. He started running with an older crowd then, and they were mostly up to no good. I had my sights set on college and an easier life than my blue-collar parents, so we drifted apart. To be honest, I don’t even know that he noticed I was gone.”

  “You haven’t seen him since high school?”

  “I’ve seen him twice since high school. Once
was in a bar down in the Quarter, but I can’t remember the name.”

  “The French Revival?”

  “That might have been it. I was doing a pub crawl with some college buddies who were here for the weekend, and I’m somewhat embarrassed to admit that parts of the night aren’t all that clear. He was tending bar. We recognized each other and shook hands, but the place was busy and we got a table afterward. I didn’t see him again.”

  “And the second time?”

  “Actually, that was the second time—probably a year or so ago. The time before was a ways back. I haven’t thought about it in forever, although it bothered me at the time. It’s been at least five years, maybe more.”

  “What about it bothered you?”

  “I took a girl I was dating out to dinner at Crescent City Brewhouse—you know the place?”

  Shaye nodded. “My stomach and my waistline know it well.”

  “Yeah, it’s great. Anyway, we had a table outside in that courtyard area, and I saw Cody sitting at a table in the corner with a young woman. I excused myself from my date, figuring I’d say hello, but I wasn’t planning to linger. Hadn’t seen him since high school so I thought a quick ‘how you doing’ wasn’t out of line.”

  “Sure. I take it Cody wasn’t happy at the intrusion?”

  “Not at all. I could tell as soon as I stepped up to the table that something was off. I’m pretty sure they’d been arguing, and I popped up right in the middle of it. Anyway, Cody shook my hand and asked about my parents, but I could tell he just wanted to get rid of me. I told him to give my regards to his folks and skedaddled.”

  “Did you know the young woman he was with?”

  “Never seen her before and he didn’t bother to make any introductions.”

  It was a long shot, but Shaye had a feeling about Pellerin’s story. She pulled a photo of Caitlyn out of her purse and showed it to him. “Is this the woman?”

  Pellerin took the photo and studied it for several seconds before nodding. “I think so. I mean, it’s been a long time but it could have been her. She was definitely younger than him. Didn’t look much past high school, if that, but then a lot of women don’t these days. Gotta be careful on the dating scene.”

  He handed the photo back to her. “Did something happen to her? Was Cody involved?”

  “The woman’s name is Caitlyn Taylor. She disappeared from the French Revival six years ago on Mardi Gras.”

  Pellerin’s eyes widened. “The same bar Cody worked at? Really? Was she killed?”

  “No one knows. She simply vanished.”

  “That sucks. I know it happens—probably more here than some places given all the bayous and stuff—but I feel sorry for her family. I can’t help but think that a bad answer is better than none at all.”

  Shaye nodded. “I think so too. Caitlyn’s twin sister hired me to look into her disappearance. The case went cold for the police a long time ago and without answers, my client is having a tough time moving on.”

  “So why do you think Cody’s murder might be related?”

  “Several reasons. Some I can’t divulge because the police are investigating, but I questioned Cody the night before he was killed, and he claimed no knowledge of Caitlyn aside from when the police questioned all the bar employees the day after her disappearance. I found out later that he was probably involved with her.”

  Pellerin nodded. “Then he turned up dead. I’m not even a PI and I find that suspicious. I wish I knew something that could help.”

  “You said it looked like they were arguing before you walked up. Did you hear anything they said? Even small bits of the conversation might help.”

  “Not when I walked up. Cody saw me coming and said something to her. I figure he told her to get quiet because she never said a word, even though he didn’t introduce us. But when I was walking away, she said something about never making him any promises. I didn’t get any more than that.”

  “And what was your take on it?”

  He frowned.

  “It’s nothing I would hold you to,” Shaye said. “And it’s not like an opinion can be entered into evidence. Besides, I’m not the cops. I find that people’s intuition about something is often correct, and sometimes it leads me down a path of investigation that provides the answers I’m looking for.”

  “Okay, I guess I can see that. Honestly? My first impression was that she was dumping him, and he was mad as hell about it.”

  “Any idea why you got that impression, or was it just a feeling?”

  “Body language and their expressions. He was pissed. You could see it on his face, and his hands were clenching the chair arms. She had her arms crossed and this…I don’t know, kinda defiant look on her face. Then there was the general feel. I’ve been dumped when I was really into the girl. Walking up to that table reminded me of it straight off.”

  Shaye nodded. “And there’s a strong chance you’re right.”

  Pellerin shifted nervously in his chair. “You don’t think Cody killed that girl for dumping him, do you?”

  “I don’t know what happened. But if Cody’s murder had something to do with Caitlyn Taylor’s disappearance, then Cody wasn’t the only one who knew what happened.”

  Pellerin’s eyes widened. “Oh shit.” He held up a hand. “Sorry. But I hadn’t even thought of that.”

  Shaye rose from her chair. “That kind of thinking is what I’m paid to do.” She handed him her card. “If you remember anything else, please give me a call.”

  “Sure,” he said as he took the card. “And good luck. I’m sorry to hear about Cody’s death. Maybe I’ll send his parents a card.” He looked at Shaye. “What the heck do I say to them?”

  “You seem like a nice man. You’ll figure it out. Thanks for your time.”

  Shaye headed out of the office and hopped in her SUV. Pellerin seemed like a credible witness, and she was willing to trust his impression of the situation between Cody and his date in the restaurant. She was even willing to go out on a limb and say he was probably right in identifying Caitlyn as the woman. But all that did was reinforce the theory she was already working with—that Cody had been involved with Caitlyn and something had gone wrong.

  But who else was involved?

  Because there was one thing she was certain of. Cody was murdered because of something he did or something he knew.

  Or both.

  MARISA SLUNG her purse over her shoulder and started to lift her daughter off the couch where she sat playing with her toys. Then she glanced out the front window and silently cursed. Usually Rick was long gone before her in the mornings, but this morning, he’d claimed he wasn’t feeling well and was going to go into work later. That meant his SUV was parked behind her in the narrow drive.

  Her options were to move the car seat from her car to his SUV and take the SUV, or play the car shuffle. Deciding the car shuffle was less hassle than wrestling with the seat, she went back into the kitchen for his keys and headed out.

  “Mommy will be right back,” she said to Maya as she closed the front door.

  She jumped into the SUV, her frustration level already high, and that frustrated her more. Starting off the day in the hole didn’t bode well for the eight hours of work that stretched in front of her. Especially when her job provided enough aggravation for ten people. Added to that, her parents were taking Maya to a children’s event in New Orleans and she was supposed to have met them at the café for breakfast ten minutes ago.

  She started the SUV and put it in Reverse, then backed out of the drive and parked it on the curb. As she was about to climb out, she looked down and noticed a coffee cup in the center console cup holder. Normally, such a thing wouldn’t make her pause, but this one was bright blue with red-and-white lettering and she immediately knew it had come from a café they usually stopped at when they were in New Orleans.

  Except they hadn’t stopped at it when they were in New Orleans to see Shaye, and they hadn’t been back since.

&nbs
p; Don’t jump to conclusions.

  Maybe a client had left the cup in his car. Rick often drove clients from the office to the courthouse. Someone could have had the cup in his car and transferred it to Rick’s. She leaned forward and looked at the mileage. Two hundred miles put on the vehicle since they’d made the trip to New Orleans.

  She sat back in the seat and blew out a breath. Rick’s norm was maybe ten miles a day on the vehicle. No way could he put two hundred miles on the car in a day just doing work driving in Ponchatoula. And she was certain about the mileage because she’d checked so she could make a note of when the SUV was due for service. Since she worked next door to the service station, she usually drove it when service was due and left it for them to handle while she was at work.

  She wrapped her hands around the steering wheel and clenched. Rick had left home before she’d even gotten out of bed yesterday morning, claiming he had to prep for an early client meeting, but when she’d called around eight to ask him a question about scheduling a dentist appointment for the three of them, the receptionist had said he wasn’t in the office. Marisa had assumed his meeting was at a client’s home or he was at the courthouse, but Rick didn’t have clients that required a two-hundred-mile commute to meet.

  So where was he yesterday morning? And why did he lie to her?

  She thought about Shaye Archer’s visit the night before, and her stomach rolled. All indications were that Rick had been in New Orleans early yesterday morning, which is when Cody Reynolds was murdered.

  Calm down. You’re losing it.

  She took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. It was a huge leap to assume Rick’s keeping something from her meant he’d murdered someone they didn’t even know. This entire mess had put her on edge, and now she was imagining things that were ridiculous. She hopped out of the SUV and hurried for her car.

  But as she walked, she wondered.

  14

  JENNY STARED AT THE STAGE, watching a drunk frat guy do a horrible rendition of a Maroon 5 song. The entire night had been one casualty after another. First that disastrous run-in with that loser Garrett and then one lame bar after another. Now it was bad singing and watered-down drinks and the same crowd of drunks that filled every bar and street in the French Quarter.