Which meant Randy talked at great length about himself, his insanely profitable career as a motivational speaker, all the celebrities he met and lastly, much to David's disgust, he also shared a few too many details about the many women who regularly threw themselves at him. "They don't even care that I'm married. It's crazy."
After agreeing to 'do this again soon,' David had raced back to the office. He couldn't get away from Randy quick enough.
"Conference room. Now!" Billy Mosely, the firm's managing partner, made the announcement on the office loudspeaker. Billy and Chuck Evans were the co-founders of Brickstone Investments, the small, ten-person financial services firm that David joined over ten years ago. He'd gone to college with Billy, and when his baseball career imploded and he was hanging around Waverly, staying with his grandfather for a few months and feeling sorry for himself, he ran into Billy one afternoon at Hannigan's pub.
He was bored and trying to figure out what to do with his life and Billy suggested he work with them for a bit. They'd had a broker leave suddenly and needed someone to manage his clients. Everything was all set up, so it was mostly answering questions and sending updates to start. But it was a perfect transition, as Billy had suspected it might be. They'd both been economics majors in college, and David had always had an aptitude for numbers.
Everyone was in the conference room when David walked in and Billy handed him a glass of champagne. The mood was festive and David wondered what was going on. He'd been in such a funk all day that he must have forgotten there was something scheduled. Maybe it was someone's birthday. They usually broke out champagne and cake on birthdays.
"I'd like to announce, now that we're all here, that we are making David a full partner, effective immediately! Congratulations."
"Cheers!" Around him, a sea of congratulations and clinking glasses swirled in his honor and David was truly dumbfounded and tickled. He'd thought a few times over the years that it would be great to be made a partner, but it never seemed to even be raised as a possibility. Billy and Chuck were the only two partners in the firm's history. They had started the company and he couldn't really blame them for wanting to keep it to themselves. After all, it still was a pretty small company.
He'd also briefly considered going out on his own a few times. Lauren had suggested it and he did give it some thought, but ultimately didn't think he was that much of an entrepreneur. He was comfortable here. He liked the people and he liked what he was doing. And then the light bulb went on. He'd just brought in a twenty million dollar account. Making him a partner ensured that the money stayed in-house, that David wouldn't leave to open up shop and take the firm's newest and biggest client with him. A client that size could keep a single firm afloat. He never would have left, but they didn’t know that.
"This is certainly an unexpected honor. Thank you!"
He looked around the room and smiled. His day had turned around nicely, thanks to his new top client. So, why wasn’t he more excited? Why did he have this nagging feeling that something was about to go very wrong?
Chapter Seven
Jack and Chris met the caller at the far side of Pine Pond, where it bordered the 16th hole at the Waverly Country Club. The fisherman was Norm Pollard, a retired mailman who had walked over from his house in Green Oaks, one of the country club developments. They almost didn't see him at first as his fishing spot was tucked away in the woods. But Norm was keeping an eye out for them and called out as they came his way.
"This is usually a nice, peaceful place.” He said as they stared down at the body, which was nestled in a patch of lily pads and tall green plants that lined the edge of the pond.
Jack and Chris put their gloves on, pulled the body onto the grass and flipped it over. Chris took one look and then immediately stepped away and doubled over. He threw up until he was dry heaving. Jack could sympathize; he'd done the same thing when he'd seen his first dead body, which was also a floater—a mafia goon that they'd fished out of the Charles River in Boston. Dead bodies were disturbing enough, but floaters were among the most gruesome. After a few days in the water, a person is often unrecognizable due to rapid decomposition and other factors, such as being fish food.
Norm turned to Jack. "You think it's that missing boy."
"Could be." Jack wasn't sure, but thought it was likely. The size and approximate age looked about right. He lifted the body a little to reach the back jean pocket and removed his wallet. Everything looked to still be intact, several soggy dollar bills, a debit card, and a license.
"It's him." He called into the station to give the update and to make sure the regional forensics’ team was on the way. They would have a lot to do at the site. Chris was back by his side in time to hear him give the news that they'd found Eric.
"Check out the back of his head. Looks like that's how he was killed. Wonder what they used? His head is bashed in good."
"The key question is who would do this, and why?" Jack said as he stared out at the water. "He wasn't killed here though; his body would have been discovered sooner. Norm, how often you fish here?"
"Couple times a week when the weather's good. I was here yesterday and a couple days before that—always the same spot."
"So he was likely dumped out in the middle of the pond and washed to shore."
"Which means we probably won't find a murder weapon," Chris stated.
"Hard to say. You wouldn't think so, but there's always mistakes made, and if we're on the ball, we'll catch it."
The forensics team arrived about thirty minutes later and got to work, marking the area and combing the surrounding areas for clues of any kind, like unusual footprints or anything that looked like it didn't belong. Once the area was fully investigated, the body was securely wrapped and packed into the van for transport to the coroner's office.
"All right, let's head back to the office now. Our work is just starting."
Chapter Eight
"You're the calmest bride-to-be that I've ever seen," Amy commented as Lauren hung up the phone after confirming with the caterer that they definitely wanted to have a vegetarian option available. Amy had stopped by Lauren's office to chat about their days and walk out together.
"It's just that everything is all set. The only thing left to do is pick up the dress from Nellie's on Saturday. So there's nothing to stress about. Plus, it's still a few weeks away."
"I was a wreck. But it was mostly dealing with family squabbles—who was going to sit where, who wasn't talking to whom—that kind of thing. I lost ten pounds the week before the wedding."
"Well it's a good thing I'm not stressed out, because I'd probably gain ten pounds," Lauren said as she unwrapped a piece of chocolate and popped it in her mouth. "Want one?"
"I never say no to chocolate."
Lauren shut down her computer and stuck a stack of papers that needed grading into her purse. When she and Amy walked out of the office, they saw one of the officers that had stopped by her house the other night and a geeky looking young man with wild hair and a plastic pocket protector in his shirt walking down the hall.
When they reached her office, they paused and Officer Gordon spoke. "They found the body of Eric Armstrong a few hours ago. All we know so far is that he was murdered with some kind of a blunt instrument and his body dumped in Pine Pond. We have a warrant to check all of the teacher's computers, scan the hard drives, etc. It shouldn't take too long."
"That's awful!" Amy exclaimed.
"Horrible," Lauren agreed and unlocked the door to her office. “Help yourself, it's all yours."
Amy waited until they were outside before asking, "Why are they searching our computers? Do they seriously think one of the teachers had something to do with Eric's death? That's crazy."
"I don't know what they are thinking, and can't imagine what they think they're going to find. Jack told David that they found some stuff on Eric's computer that gave them the idea he might have had a crush or maybe even some kind of relationship with an older
woman, possibly a teacher."
"Do they have any idea which teacher it could be?"
"I'm not sure how big their list is, but evidently I'm at the top," Lauren said with a nervous chuckle.
"You? That's ridiculous."
"It is, but David explained that they have to follow any lead that comes in. Of course there's nothing to find, so they should figure that out pretty quickly."
"How annoying for you, though. Good thing you don't get stressed easily," Amy joked. "Having something like this happen to me right before my wedding would put me over the edge."
Chapter Nine
Jack and Chris pulled into the driveway of the Armstrong house, a modest, older ranch home that was in need of a fresh coat of paint. The lawn needed care as well; the grass was overgrown in some spots, patchy brown in others. Two cars in the driveway indicated that both parents were likely home. This was a part of the job that Jack dreaded. There was just no easy way to tell someone that a loved one had died. It was especially difficult when a child was involved. Children just weren't supposed to die before their parents did.
Chris stepped up and knocked on the front door, then backed down to let Jack take the lead and do the talking. The door opened and Judith Armstrong, a tired looking woman in her late forties took one look at the two of them and screamed for her husband Ted.
"Come in," she said with a catch in her voice. Ted stood behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. Jack sensed that they knew what was coming and were bracing themselves for bad news.
"You might want to sit down," he advised them and wordlessly they complied, sitting side by side on the living room sofa and waiting for him to continue.
"I'm sorry to tell you that we found Eric a little over an hour ago. His body was found out by the golf course at the edge of Pine Pond. We don't know what happened, but we're going to do everything in our power to find out. I am so very sorry for your loss."
"Why would someone kill my Eric? It just doesn't make any sense," Judith said softly as her eyes filled up and she looked at her husband with helpless confusion. He rubbed her back and didn't say anything. But then his voice choked as he thanked them for coming and asked what they could do to help."
"I know it's difficult to talk about this now, and I know you've both already talked to several of the detectives, but has anything else come to mind that you haven't mentioned previously? Was Eric seeing anyone or having any kind of relationship with anyone that we should know about?"
"The officers asked us the other day about this and I didn't think anything of it, nothing came to mind. I know Eric didn't have a steady girlfriend, but I've been thinking about this more and I don't know if it's relevant, but he did mention meeting someone after class a few times lately named Lauren. I just assumed it was someone he was in a class with, a study partner or something because he said his English grades were suddenly getting better. Like I said, I don't know if that's at all relevant. I just can't think of anything else."
"Thank you. We'll pass that along and dig into every bit of information we can come up with. If anything else comes to mind, please give us a call." Jack handed his card to both of them and then he and Chris left.
"That was rough," Chris said as they got back into the car.
"It never gets easier," Jack agreed as they drove the rest of the way back in silence.
Chapter Ten
Lauren walked into her house and as usual, immediately locked the door behind her. She felt compelled to check all the windows upstairs and down to make sure they were all locked and securely fastened. It gave her the chills to think that someone had murdered one of her students. As Jack had mentioned to them more than once, even though Waverly was a sleepy, safe town, bad things could still happen anywhere even here, so you had to always be on your guard and act smart. Simple precautions like locking all doors and windows were a must. True, if someone really wanted to get in, they could probably do it, but why make it easier for them? Jack had also told them that studies have repeatedly shown that, especially in a condo complex, thieves will always look for the homes with the easiest access, and an unlocked door was practically an invitation.
She'd stopped at the market on the way home and set about unloading her groceries and putting everything away, except for the items she needed to make dinner. David wasn't due home for at least another hour, which gave her plenty of time. She was going to make a wild mushroom and asparagus risotto with chicken from a store bought rotisserie chicken stirred in for some extra protein. If it were up to her, she'd have been satisfied with a vegetarian risotto, but if she'd served that David would have been looking around for the main course. He was a meat lover and if it was up to him they'd have beef every night.
Lauren set about to make the risotto. First, she finely minced a sweet onion and added it to the Le Crueset enamel-covered cast-iron soup pot that was already heating up a bit of olive oil. Lauren loved to cook; she found the whole process deeply satisfying and relaxing, especially something like a risotto, which involved constant motion—slicing, dicing, stirring, and tasting. Pure bliss. She smiled thinking of how David found it so difficult to comprehend that she truly enjoyed this. To him it seemed like so much work. His idea of cooking was slapping something on the grill and having dinner on the table ten minutes later. Quick and easy.
She measured out a cup and one-half of the Arborio rice, short round grains that would plump up when they cooked, and in a perfectly cooked risotto, would have just a slight chewy bite. She added the rice into the pan with the lightly browned onions and stirred until the grains were all lightly coated and shiny from the olive oil. A minute or so later she added a little white wine, and once that was absorbed began adding the main ingredient, chicken stock. She had another pan going on the stove full of rich, golden chicken broth, and added it to the pan a half-cup at a time, stirring and watching each addition until it was almost completely absorbed before adding more broth.
She'd also poured herself a small glass of chardonnay, even though she rarely had more than a few sips while she was cooking as she tended to forget the wine was there while she was in the zone of creating. Her mind often wandered as she stood over the stove, stirring and adjusting the heat every now and then so the risotto stayed cooking at a steady pace, which would ensure the right texture and chewiness. Even though she tried to focus on going through her mental checklist for the wedding, what she'd said to Amy was very true.
Just about everything was all set for the wedding, there were no last minute dramas yet that needed to be attended to. And so her mind kept drifting back to more disturbing thoughts, wondering what had happened to her poor troubled student and whether it was a random killing, which was almost too terrifying to consider as how can you really protect yourself against someone who just kills for pleasure? She knew that was rarely the case though, and that most murders were committed by someone who knew the victim.
She turned her full attention back to the risotto, which was simmering happily along, and added a mixture of assorted wild mushrooms and a pile of chopped asparagus. The risotto was at the halfway point and by the time it was done the vegetables would be cooked just the way she liked them and David would be home.
She took a sip of wine and then set to work on the chicken, slicing the meat off and using her fingers to pull it into bite-sized pieces, which she stirred into the risotto. She was just about to start the last step, when David walked through the door and the phone rang. She waved hello to David and grabbed the cordless phone in the kitchen. The number on the caller ID was one that she didn't recognize.
"Hello?"
"Is this Lauren Stanhope?" a strange female voice asked.
"Yes, who's this?" Great, a telemarketer, she figured. Why do they always call at dinnertime? She should have let it go to voicemail.
"This is Gloria Richardson from the Boston Times. Lauren, is it true you were having an affair with your student, Eric Armstrong?" Lauren was silent for a moment in shock. Before she could ans
wer, Gloria continued, "Did you kill him Miss Stanhope?" Now Lauren was both rattled and furious. She'd been ready for a telemarketer, not this.
"No!" she said and slammed the phone down.
"That's the way to deal with a telemarketer." David came towards her with an amused gleam in his eye. "Forceful. I like it." He leaned in to give her a kiss and then sensed that something was wrong.
"Are you okay?"
"That wasn't a telemarketer," she said quietly and then turned back to the risotto, mechanically going through the final step of adding freshly grated parmesan cheese, butter and a small amount of broth. She turned off the heat, stirred everything together until it was rich and creamy and smelled amazing.
"Who was it?" David asked as the phone rang again, with another strange number on the caller ID.
"Don't answer it. Let it go to voicemail." Lauren quickly checked the message that was left and as her churning stomach predicted, it was another news reporter. She filled David in on the first call and noticed his jaw clench. He was generally easy-going and that was the only sign that he was furious.
"First of all, it's ridiculous for them to make any kind of assumption—let alone accusation—and secondly, the kid was just found earlier today. How could you even be on the media's radar?"
"I don't know. None of this makes any sense." Lauren took a bite of the risotto, which was perfect, except that she now had little interest in eating it. Still, she filled two large bowls for the two of them and set them on her small dining room table, along with the parmesan cheese, as David usually liked to grate a little extra on top.
"Do you want some wine?" She asked. But David was already pulling a beer out of the refrigerator.
"No thanks, I'm good with this." They sat at the table and ate quietly. Lauren asked David about his day and her mood brightened some as he told her about the partnership promotion and his annoyingly lucrative new client.
Trust Page 3