Poker Face

by Noelle Winters

  Thurs 29th September; 9am

  Dane by her side, an irritated Ryan strode towards the large business plaza. There had been no one at Steven’s home. No one answered the door, no signs of any cars. Nothing. The family had been more than willing to talk, and had described Cairo as a quiet yet happy woman who was engaged to the love of her life. But they had also admitted to not talking to her recently.

  Steven, however, had quite the online business presence. He was a real estate agent who served several cities and counties, the majority further away from Amaranth. Maybe he was out of town on business a lot.

  Although not as large as the plazas in the bigger cities, the tall, three-story building felt imposing with its glass windows and bright ambiance. There was even a secretary at the front desk. Did anyone else work there, or was it just for show?

  Ryan had met many people that had more money than sense.

  The blonde secretary stood. “How may I help you?”

  Ryan flashed her badge first, then Dane followed. “We’re here to talk to Mr. Blackstone?”

  The secretary nodded, sitting down and tucking a phone to her ear. “Is this about his fiancée?”

  “Yes.” Ryan and Dane exchanged looks. Were they going to find a grieving fiancé, or something else?

  “He’ll see you now. Up the elevator, and his secretary will meet you there.” The woman pointed them in the right direction.

  Ryan walked in the direction the woman had pointed with a quiet “thank you”. There were a couple company decals on the wall, and a business directory that was mostly empty. It fascinated her that someone would build a building that would be so little used. But she wasn’t crazy rich, so who knew what they thought.

  She made a mental note to subpoena Cairo’s financial and phone records. Despite what the state of her body said, some investigatory work would help confirm or deny the actual cause of death.

  “I think it’s a suicide,” Dane said, his voice soft.

  Ryan nodded, then shrugged. “I think something’s up.”

  Dane hummed in that way that made Ryan think he was humoring her. As much as she liked him, she wasn’t going to ignore her instincts. It had been those instincts that had got her promoted to Detective in the first place. She wasn’t going to give them up.

  The elevator opened with a ping, and the two of them walked forward, just to be greeted by another secretary. She waved them into Steven’s office.

  Just as Ryan went to open the door, it opened on its own. “Come in.”

  Ryan was a native to the small village, and she knew Steven like she knew pretty much everyone else. He was the only child of the village’s wealthiest family, and when his parents had died he had inherited it all. Still, his voice had deepened with age, and its reverberating tone surprised her.

  “Steven Blackstone?” Ryan asked, just to clarify.

  “Yes. And you are?” Steven’s pale grey eyes looked between the two of them. He was a tall man, muscular but not stocky, impeccably dressed in a pinstripe suit. He was the type of man that exuded charisma, the type that could take even the most skeptical of customers and make them part with their money.

  He was the type of man that Ryan respected to some degree, but would always be wary of. There was a thin line between smooth salesman and con man. “I’m Detective Olsen, and this is my partner, Detective Phillips.” She nodded to Dane. “We’re here to talk to you about Cairo Levitt.”

  Sadness momentarily clouded the grey eyes, but the emotion passed as fast as it appeared. “Sit.” Steven waved to a few chairs in front of a large oak desk. He took a seat behind it, sinking into the plush office chair. It looked like it cost more than Ryan made in a month. Probably the height of ergonomics.

  She settled into the strangely comfortable wooden chair, somewhat distracted by the pleasant texture of the wood under her hand.

  “It’s a foreign type of wood,” Steven said, his voice pleasant. “Almost velvet to the touch.”

  “Hm.” Ryan didn’t ask more than that, instead crossing one leg over the other and looking at Steven.

  “I understand that you were engaged to Miss Levitt, is that correct?” Dane asked. He had his feet firmly planted on the floor, elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. It was his attentive look, the one that let interviewees know he was paying attention to every little detail they shared.

  “Yes.” There was the flash of pain. “We have been engaged about six months, dating a year prior to that.” Steven looked down at his desk. “I was very shocked to hear about her death.”

  Grief takes all forms, Ryan reminded herself. And he was showing signs of grief. The pain in his eyes, the stiff body language. It very well could have been that he was the type of man that threw himself into work in an effort to avoid feeling.

  “I’d like to ask about your whereabouts for the past 24 hours,” Ryan said, leaning forward. She pulled her notebook out of her coat pocket, grabbing the small pen she kept. It was easier to record it while she could. And it wasn’t worth taping, not when he wasn’t suspected of anything and they weren’t even sure if they had a murder.

  “Last 24 hours?” A small furrow formed between Steven’s brows.

  “Yesterday,” Ryan clarified.

  Steven looked to the side, thinking. “I was working most of the day. Cairo and I were due to meet for lunch that afternoon, but she didn’t show.” He frowned slightly. “She had lost track of time. I had to return to meet a client, so we were going to meet up tomorrow.”

  “Was that normal for her?” Dane asked that question.

  Steven nodded once, his firm chin making the situation feel extra grave. “She was lovely, but she was often sidetracked and a bit flighty.” There was a tinge of regret to his voice. “It wasn’t the first time she had missed our plans.” That was bitterness.

  Ryan doubted missing plans was a motive for murder, but the fact that there was resentment there was something she noted. If the ME decided it was a murder, then she had to have a good understanding of the potential suspects. “What did you do in the afternoon?”

  Steven steepled his fingers on the desk, his elbows planted. “My client interview finished at 3pm, then I worked here at the office until six. You can ask my secretary.”

  “And after that?” Ryan didn’t like that she was having to pull information bit by bit, but it wasn’t going to stop her.

  Steven was quiet. Then he sighed. “I went home and had a glass of scotch on my own, to de-stress from a bad day.”

  That explained a lot of his reluctance. “Can anyone verify that?”

  “No.” There was a flatness to his voice. “I was by myself.”

  “What about after that?” Dane asked, his voice friendly and genuine. Ryan could feel the undercurrent sizzling under her partner’s skin. There was something off to him, too.

  “Then I took a sleeping pill and went to bed.” Steven lifted his head to meet their eyes, not flinching. “Cairo and I live apart.”

  “Was there a reason for that?” Ryan asked.

  “We don’t believe in cohabitation before marriage,” Steven said bluntly.

  Ryan noted the lack of ‘sex’ in there.

  “Is there anything else you need to know?” Steven looked between them.

  “Has she been acting differently at all in the past couple weeks?” It was important to establish from those closest to her whether her behavior had changed, or whether there had been thoughts or discussions of suicide or what to do after her death. “Depressed at all, or suicidal?”

  Again his eyes shifted to the right. Was he lying, or was he thinking? It could signify either. “She was a bit more distracted,” he said finally. “Something was on her mind.” He exhaled slowly. “I don’t know…” He frowned. “I don’t think she was suicidal.”

  Ryan waited a few seconds, until it became obvious Steven wasn’t going to finish. “Is there something else?”

  “She recently won a settlement,” he said. “She was swor
n to a gagging order on the case, and I don’t know much about it.”

  “Was it a lot of money?” Money could be a motive. Or a strike against suicide.

  “I think so.” Steven’s face was impassive now. “We did not combine our finances.”

  Ryan merely nodded, not betraying anything she felt.

  “Is there anything else?” Steven asked again.

  Ryan and Dane exchanged looks, then Ryan shook her head. “I think that’s it for now.” She reached out and shook his hand, followed by Dane. “Thank you for being willing to talk to us.”

  Steven nodded once, and then his attention turned back to the computer on his desk.

  “I’ll accompany you out.” The secretary reappeared at the door, much to Ryan’s surprise. Silently the two detectives left his office and got into the elevator.

  Once it closed, Ryan looked at Dane and he looked back. There was a scowl on his face. “Told you,” Ryan said with a grin.

  “It still could be a suicide!” Dane protested.

  “But now we have to look into it.” Ryan’s grin faded. Someone had been murdered. She shouldn’t be happy about that. Both Steven and Cairo’s mother Pat had said that Cairo wasn’t the type to commit suicide.

  Still, now they had a direction for their investigation. Or at least a guess that something was out there.

  “Let’s go.” Ryan led the way out of the large plaza, leaving it and Steven’s cool demeanor behind them.

  6

  Thursday 29th September; 2:30pm

  Technically Liv wasn’t sticking her nose into business that didn’t belong to her. She had known Cairo’s mother, Pat, since she was in elementary school. Dozens of times they had met together to play, or gone to the same dance classes, or one of the millions of ways that lives overlapped in a village as small as Amaranth.

  She rang the doorbell at Pat’s house, a thermos of hot coffee in one hand and a plate of brownies in the other. Brownies were Pat’s favorites, especially with a swirl of peanut butter in them.

  “If you’re the media, we’re not interested!” Pat’s voice was hoarse through the door.

  “It’s Olivia,” Liv said, hopefully loud enough that Pat could hear.

  There was a brief moment of silence in the house before Pat opened the door. “Olivia?” Her eyes were puffy, as if she had been crying, and she was dressed in the hastily thrown together outfit of someone whose life had just fallen to pieces.

  “I brought some coffee and brownies,” Liv said, showing her.

  The merest wisp of a smile ghosted Pat’s face. “Come in, dear.” She opened the screen door, inviting Liv in.

  The tall, gray-brown house was neater than Liv remembered. When they were young, Pat had always been so busy chasing after the energetic and smart Cairo. As a single mother, Cairo had kept Pat on her toes.

  “I’m sorry,” Liv said, drawing Pat into her embrace.

  Pat hugged her back, the strength of the hug startling her. “Thanks.” There wasn’t much else to say, not really.

  “Come in, come in.” Pat pulled back, then gestured for Liv to bring her treats into the kitchen. There was someone sitting at the bar, someone Liv didn’t recognize.

  Then it hit her. The blonde hair, the sharp dressing. It was the woman from her coffee shop.

  “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting?” Liv said smoothly, putting down the brownies and coffee and extending her hand for a greeting.

  The woman studied her for a few moments as if Liv would bite her. “Veronica,” she said. “I’m Cairo’s cousin.”

  Vaguely in Liv’s memory she could remember Pat mentioning a sister once or twice in the past few decades. Why would the cousin be back here now? Had she been around longer, or had she only come into town yesterday?

  “She’s staying with me for the moment.” Pat’s smile was sad when she looked at Veronica. Was Veronica here because of Cairo’s death, or something else? Maybe she was just being city-social when she had visited Liv’s coffee shop. If she hadn’t grown up in a small town, it could be awkward.

  Hell, Liv had grown up there and she was still awkward.

  “Have you been here long?” Liv tried small talk.

  “Depends what you consider long.” Veronica offered her a half-smile, then took a sip from her mug. It was tea of some sort, if Liv judged by the tab hanging over the side. “I’ve worked at the bar for around a year.”

  Liv waited, but that seemed to be the extent to which Veronica wanted to speak.

  “Let me pour us some coffee.” Pat shuffled over to the thermos before Liv could grab it.

  “I can help,” Liv protested.

  “Let an old woman have her fun,” Pat chided, and instead of sounding teasing, she sounded tired. In only a few hours, Cairo’s death had aged her ten years. Not that Liv could even imagine what losing a child was like.

  Ignoring the involuntary shiver that went down her spine, she and Pat sat on the faded blue couch in the living room. Veronica hadn’t moved from the bar, instead choosing to stare into space.

  “I can’t believe she’s gone.” Pat’s voice broke. “They think she killed herself.” The words were barely a whisper.

  Liv kept her voice carefully modulated. “What do you think?” She didn’t want to assume, didn’t want to give any hints about what she was thinking, as to bias Pat’s answer.

  Pat shook her head firmly. “I told the detective, she would never kill herself.” She looked at Liv, her gaze strong. “Especially not now.”

  “Not now?” Liv frowned.

  “She had just won a settlement.” Pat’s voice trailed off. “I don’t know what it was about. Something very important, something hush-hush. She couldn’t talk about, but she got quite the deposit into her bank account.”

  “Was that here, did she use Mr Harrington?” Liv asked, her brows furrowed. There was only one lawyer in town.

  “Yes, he represented her, I think.” Pat looked almost as confused as she did. “She never told us the details.” Pat leaned forward, her head in her hands and tears starting to stream down her cheeks. “I can’t believe she’s gone.” Tears caught in her throat, choking her words.

  “I’m sorry.” Liv wanted to hug her, help her, but she wasn’t certain what to do. She gave Pat an awkward hug. This was the type of emotion she could show, could understand. At least in this context.

  Ryan was a whole different story.

  “Do you have any idea what happened?” Liv kept her voice soft and nonjudgmental. She wasn’t asking for a criminal analysis, but Cairo was closest to her mother out of everyone. Or at least she had been when Liv was in high school.

  “No!” Then Pat paused. “She and Steven had a few squabbles, but it was minor things, lover’s quarrels.” There was a slight downturn at the edge of her mouth, like she disliked something but not enough to voice it. “Her ex-boyfriend, Charles Mannigan, has been hanging around recently.” There was definite distaste in her voice for him.

  She only vaguely remembered Charles. He had been older than the both of them, graduating high school two years before they did. Did Cairo even know him at that time? Liv didn’t know.

  “Was he stalking Cairo?” Liv tried to mask the curiosity and alarm in her voice.

  Pat shook her head. “No. He’s a hooligan, but when Cairo said leave, he left. At least last time.” She sighed. “I told all of this to the detective, too. She didn’t seem really interested.”

  Liv felt like she had pushed her luck more than enough. She had gotten Pat to open up, and it was becoming more and more apparent to Liv that it couldn’t be a suicide. No matter what the police did or said, she was going to make sure the case got the investigation it deserved.

  “I should probably go,” Liv said regretfully.

  “Say hi to your Gram for me, will you?” Pat looked at her. Gram and Pat had crossed paths a few times when Gram had taken her to school events. Pat had been one of the few people that Gram was willing to talk to. Isolation ran i
n the family.

  “Will do.” She hugged Pat awkwardly as a goodbye, then headed back out of the house, passing by the kitchen.

  Veronica was still there, her flat eyes watching Liv like a hawk. It was enough to make her shiver. Something was off about her.

  Could a woman have murdered Cairo? Liv was somewhat doubtful. It would have taken a lot of strength to hoist the body up that high. Plus Veronica had been in her café right before the body had been discovered. But the way Veronica was watching her made her wonder.

  She pushed open the front door and headed to the coffee shop. She needed to relieve River.

  Thursday 29th September; 5pm

  Liv’s mind was churning with what she had learned. Settlement? What settlement? Not that she was entirely in tune with the gossip of the town. Even her Gram wasn’t, since she didn’t join the other old ladies in their bridge club or gossiping. Instead she spent most of her free time crocheting or knitting when her joints could tolerate it.

  “I shouldn’t do this,” Liv muttered at her feet. Yet they turned and walked her towards the sole law office in the entire town. She knew the lawyer wouldn’t say much. Lawyer/client confidentiality was taken quite seriously. But she was also more than willing to ask, to try. Maybe she would get lucky.

  It wasn’t long before she was standing in front of ‘Harrington Esq., law services’. Peter Harrington had been in business in the town for quite some time, and he was one of the few people Gram trusted.

  The building was small, standalone, maybe fifty feet from the convenience store. It was close enough to the Main Street that people knew where he was, but not enough that he could be targeted.

  She pushed open the glass door, hearing the jingle of the bell as it announced her presence. “Peter?” Liv’s voice was tentative.

  There was the shuffling of paperwork, then Peter’s salt-and-pepper hair poked out behind a stack of papers. “Olivia?”

  “Sorry, Gram asked me to drop by.” Her brain scurried to come up with a plausible reason or her to be there. “She wanted to know if you had a copy of her will.” It was a bad excuse, but it worked.