What She Left (Martina Monroe Book 1)

by H K Christie

  I took a picture of the page in the yearbook with Charlotte’s photo and information. I collected my things and the yearbooks and headed back to the counter wearing a wide grin. I said to the woman behind the counter, “Thank you so much.”

  She looked up from her computer monitor. “You find what you’re looking for?”

  “Sure did.”

  The woman pushed herself out of her chair and headed back toward the counter. “Well, what did you find?”

  I opened the page to Charlotte’s photo and pointed.

  JJ’s eyes widened. “Charlotte Henley? You’re looking for Charlotte Henley?”

  “Did you know her?” Based on my estimation, the woman appeared old enough to have attended high school with Charlotte.

  “I was a few years older, but yes. It was such a tragedy for the Henleys.”

  “What do you mean? What tragedy?”

  “I assumed you knew since you’re looking for Charlotte.”

  “Please, if you could share with me what you know, I’d appreciate it.”

  The woman rested her elbow on the counter and propped herself up. “Well, Charlotte was the darling of the Henley family. She was beautiful, smart, and really going places, so we all thought. And then one night she was out with her brother, Frank - he’s a state senator now, like his father. Well, anyhow, out of nowhere a drunk driver rammed right into the side of the car. Charlotte was killed instantly. Oh, how the family mourned her passing. I don’t think the Henleys were ever the same after that.”

  JJ thought Charlotte died in Pennsylvania? And her brother and father were state senators? Not only had Charlotte been running from something or someone, but I had a hunch that somebody was also trying to keep her buried. “Was Charlotte married?”

  JJ craned her neck back. “Heavens, no. She was college-bound until the accident ended it all.”

  Charlotte had lied about being married before Theodore. Why would she do that? “What else can you tell me about the Henley family, if you don’t mind?”

  “They practically own half this town. They have housing developments, shopping malls, and even a restaurant or two. Frank is the oldest, you know about Charlotte and then Amy, she’s the youngest. A late in life surprise! Amy is a sweetheart. She’s tried to stay out of the spotlight, but with her brother being a senator, it can be tough. I think he’s got his eyes on the oval office.”

  “I went to Henley’s Bistro for lunch. I presume it’s owned by the Henleys?”

  “Yes. It’s great, isn’t it? I just love their desserts. Amy runs it. She’s such a darling girl. She’s married and has kids of her own now.”

  “What about the parents?”

  “Eloise is retired and mostly works on the boards of her favorite charities and that kind of thing. Big Frank died a few years ago.”

  “Did you know somebody named Alonso Davidson, who was friends with Charlotte and her brother?”

  “Alonso Davidson, no I can’t say that I did.”

  Maybe Alonso Davidson was an alias or not really connected to the Henleys at all? “Is there anything else you know about them? Are you in touch with the family now?”

  “Just what I read in the newspapers or when I dine at the bistro and chat with Amy.”

  This was a lot to process. My hunch was correct. Charlotte’s story about her life before she moved to California was completely fabricated. “You’ve been so helpful. Thank you, again.” I exited the school with adrenaline pulsing through my body. I hadn’t even remembered to zip my coat, but when the hail hit the side of my face, I was quickly reminded. I zipped up my coat and hurried over to my car. Quickly, I opened the door, and jumped in.

  Thinking about what I had just learned about the Henleys, I lined up the information in my mind. Had her family faked her death? Charlotte had pretended that her entire family had died in a fire. The Henleys were a rich and powerful political family. If they had something they needed to keep hidden, surely they had the means to do so. But what? What did Charlotte know?

  Back at the hotel, I dropped my bag down next to the desk and paced the room like I often did when trying to figure out my next move. Obviously, I needed to go back to Henley’s Bistro and question Amy Henley to find out more about the family. I checked my wrist for the time. My flight was scheduled to leave tomorrow morning. I had to act fast and determine how I’d maximize my few remaining hours in Doylestown.

  Divide and conquer would fast-track the background checks on the Henleys. I picked up the phone and called the office. “Drakos Security & Investigations. How may I help you?”

  “Hi, Mrs. Pearson, it’s Martina. Can I speak with Angela, please?”

  “Sure thing, Martina. I’ll patch you right through.”

  I continued to pace the length of the hotel room and planned out all the things I would ask Angela to help me with while I was working on my plan. The more information we had, the better. I’d also put in a call to Hirsch and let him know what I’d found and see if he could help out, too. “Hi, Martina.”

  “Hi, Angela. I need a big favor as soon as possible. We just got a big break in the case.” I described to Angela everything I had found and what I needed her to research while I prepared to interview one of the Henleys. Assuming Amy was still at the bistro.

  “You got it, Martina.”

  “Awesome, thank you.” I was amped. I needed to go for a run to get some of the energy out, think clearly, and perfect my line of questioning for Amy Henley.

  I changed into a set of workout clothes, grabbed my phone, and took the stairs down to the gym. Phone to my ear, I waited for Hirsch to answer as I climbed up on the treadmill. I set the pace to 3.0 mph and warmed up. “Hey, Martina. What’s up?”

  “I found Charlotte’s actual identity, and it’s interesting.” I filled him in on all the details.

  “Okay, I’ll run the family name through our databases and see what comes up.”

  “Great. Did you interview Diego yet?”

  “Yep. He had some interesting things to say, but I don’t think it was him with Donna that night.”

  My mouth dropped open as he told me what Diego had said. Donna had lied to me. Why? “None of that makes sense.”

  “It’s strange, I’ll give you that,” Hirsch commented.

  “Well, let me know if you find anything. I’m working on my strategy for interviewing Amy Henley and how much to share with her.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” I hung up and set the phone on the treadmill console before increasing the speed.

  Sweat trickled down my temples and my heart pumped as I pounded away on the treadmill and thought about Amy Henley and how I’d thought she had looked familiar when I was at the bistro. I must have been more jet lagged than I thought to have not made the connection. She looked quite similar to both Charlotte and Kennedy. When I spoke to Amy, I needed to tread lightly before disclosing anything. If she was part of the coverup, I wouldn’t want to disclose what I knew.

  Thirty minutes later, I shut off the treadmill, wiped down the machine with a paper towel, and then plucked a fresh one to mop up the sweat on my face. Strutting out of the hotel gym, I jogged up the stairs and exited the stairwell. When I reached my hotel room, I stopped dead in my tracks. Through the curtains, light was emitting from inside the room. I was sure I’d turned off all the lights before leaving. I steadied myself, slid the hotel key card in the slot, and slowly turned the handle and pushed. I inched forward, glancing from left to right. The two queen beds were untouched, as were the desk and dresser. Silence filled the room. Fists in fighting position, I crept toward the bathroom. I reached it and eyed right and then left. There was nobody in the room but me. Had I left the light on and forgotten?

  I turned back around. I was the only person in my small hotel room. Had housekeeping entered, turned on the light and left as part of a turndown service? Maybe that was it. I went back over to the door and engaged the safety lock at the top, and then peeled off my sweaty clothes an
d hopped into the shower.

  Hot steam helped relax my muscles, but I was still on edge. I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been in my hotel room. My mind had been preoccupied, and I was still on West Coast time when I’d left for the gym. I had to be overreacting.

  I shut off the shower and dried off, re-dressing before heading back over to the desk to see if Angela had sent anything to my email. It had been less than an hour since we spoke, but you never know, Angela was fast and efficient at doing research. I slid my hand down to pull out my laptop and caught air. I glanced down and flipped open the lid to my messenger bag. My laptop was gone. This wasn’t jet lag. Somebody had been in my room and taken it. But who? A thieving housekeeper or somebody related to the Henleys? Whoever had broken in only had a short window of time. My stomach flip-flopped. Was I being watched?

  I dialed the office again. “Mrs. Pearson, this is Martina again. Somebody has broken into my hotel room and stolen my laptop. I wanted to report it right away. It was about thirty minutes ago. I need all the information wiped.”

  “I’ll let IT know right away. Martina, are you okay? Do you need me to change your flight to get you home today?”

  “Not necessary. I’ll fly home tomorrow morning as planned.”

  Clearly, I was getting too close for comfort for the Henley family. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions that the Henleys were behind this, but my instincts were telling me I was on the right track and no little break-in would stop me from uncovering the truth about what Charlotte had left behind.

  Daylight was fading, and temperatures were dropping. I couldn’t wait to go home to the sunshine and light breezes of the Bay Area. I exited my rental car and jogged up to Henley’s Bistro. I pulled open the door and stepped inside. It was clear I’d made it before the dinner rush. I scanned the restaurant. Only a few tables were occupied. It was a young crowd, nobody I would suspect to be tailing me. There was no sign of Amy Henley. I had little time and hoped luck was on my side and that she was in the back office. I approached the counter that had the same teenager from lunch standing behind the register. “I’d like a table, please.”

  “Go ahead and pick anywhere you want.”

  “Thanks.” I chose a table closest to the back room and the kitchen. Soon after, a young woman with dark hair and braces approached my table with a smile. “May I take your order?”

  “Yes, I’ll have the tomato soup and the turkey avocado sandwich.” It was a pleasant lunch, and I thought it would make make a good early dinner too.

  “Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “A water and a latte would be great. Thank you.”

  “Coming right up.”

  I watched the bistro staff as they went to and from the dining area, to the register and beyond. Soon, the server returned with my latte and set it on the table in front of me. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you. Do you know if Amy is working?”

  “She is. Do you want me to get her for you?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Thank goodness. It was important for Amy to be here for my plan to work. If somebody was watching me and they were hired by the Henleys, they’d soon know I was talking to Amy and it would draw them out of the shadows.

  A few minutes later, the woman in the suit that I’d met earlier, walked out and approached my table with a customer-service-style smile. “I heard you requested me. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything is fine. My name is Martina Monroe, and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”

  Amy stepped back. “Are you a reporter?”

  “No, I’m not a reporter. I’m a private investigator from California.”

  Hand on her hip, Amy’s apprehensive look had turned into a look of annoyance. “Look, I want nothing to do with my brother’s political campaign, you can put that in your report.”

  I raised my hand to protest. “Please don’t leave. I’m not here because of your brother. I was hired to investigate your sister, Charlotte.”

  Amy’s mouth dropped open with apparent surprise in her eyes. “You want to know about Charlotte?”

  “Yes.”

  She shook her head back and forth. “I don’t understand. Charlotte died shortly after I was born. What are you looking for exactly?”

  “Would you like to have a seat?”

  I wasn’t sure if I should tell her everything. The information would be a lot for anyone to take in. If Amy thought her sister had died when she was a baby, but in reality had been living a full life until about two weeks ago, it would be a real shocker.

  Amy didn’t move.

  I met her gaze. “I have some news, you may want to sit down.”

  Amy glanced around the restaurant before pulling out a chair. Good. “What do you know about Charlotte?” I asked.

  “I was told that she died a few weeks after I was born.”

  “And you are close with your brother, Frank?”

  “We see each other at family functions and occasionally at a benefit, if he needs me to go for a campaign. Other than that, I try to keep to myself and my family. I prefer to remain out of the limelight.”

  “And you’re married now. I heard you have children, too?”

  Amy cocked her head. “How do you know that?”

  “I was at the high school and was asking about Charlotte’s family. JJ told me about you.”

  “I still don’t understand. Who hired you to look into Charlotte?”

  “Before I tell you what I’m about to tell you, can you please look at a photo and confirm it is, in fact, your sister, Charlotte?”

  “I only remember her from photographs, but okay.”

  I fished out the picture of Charlotte with the baby and handed it to Amy.

  Amy studied the photo and placed her hand over her heart. In a whisper, she said, “That’s Charlotte and me.” She flipped over the photo and cocked her head. “It says Amelia?”

  “Is Amy short for Amelia?”

  “No, my name is Amy, that’s what it says on my birth certificate.”

  She wasn’t Amelia? Or perhaps it was a nickname that Charlotte had called her baby sister? The hairline, the nose, and the chin. Whether or not she knew it, I was fairly certain that Amy was baby Amelia.

  “You’re sure it’s you and your sister.”

  “Yes. I’ve seen the picture before - or one very similar.”

  I braced myself. Amy was about to be given news that could rock her entire world. It wasn’t a task to be taken lightly. “Charlotte’s daughter, Kennedy, hired me to find out the identity of the baby in the photo. Charlotte died a few weeks ago.”

  Tears fell from Amy’s eyes as she shook her head. “It can’t be. Charlotte died when I was a baby, and now you’re saying Charlotte died two weeks ago, it doesn’t make sense.” Amy stared out the window above me. She returned her focus to me. “Unless they lied to me.”

  “They?”

  Her face was long. “My father. My brother and mother.”

  “Kennedy hoped to find Charlotte’s family. She said her mother, Charlotte, never wanted to discuss her past. Kennedy doesn’t have a lot of family left and was hoping I’d help find her relatives.”

  Amy pushed back the chair and stood up. Her hands were trembling. “What did you say your name was?”

  “My name is Martina Monroe, private investigator.”

  “You say Charlotte has a daughter named Kennedy?”

  “Yes.”

  Amy raised her hand and placed it on her cheek. “I don’t know what to say. Is she here?”

  “No, she’s not. She’s in California.”

  Amy stammered. “I’m trying to process this information. I need to call my husband. Do you have a business card?”

  “Yes, I leave tomorrow, to go back home to the Bay Area.” I pulled the business card from my bag and handed it to her.

  She stared at it with her head bowed before she returned to the back of the restaurant. She didn’t return.
/>   I finished my meal, paid, and grabbed a business card. I’d follow up when I was back home - to check on her and see if she wanted more information about Kennedy.

  I felt bad for Amy and soon, Kennedy, when I would tell her that her mother had lied about her past. It was a lot to deal with.

  I bundled up and peered outside the restaurant. It was pitch black except for a few street lamps. I grabbed my phone and turned on the light. Considering I was convinced I was being watched, I needed as much visibility as I could get. I pushed open the door and hurried toward my car.

  I reached my rental car and pulled out the key from my coat pocket. Suddenly, the wind was blocked, and I felt warmth close by. From the corner of my eye, I saw the blur of a swinging arm. I elbowed back and executed a powerful back kick. The person grunted but was able to grab my arm and twist it behind me. A sharp jolt of pain shot through me as a knee hit my kidneys. I screamed and a bulky arm stretched across my chest and covered my mouth with its gloved hand. In a deep, husky voice, he spoke into my ear. “Go back to California and don’t return, ever. Leave the Henleys alone, or you’ll end up six feet under and nobody will ever find you.”

  Another jab to my ribs and I crumpled to the ground. A few seconds later, I shot up off the ground, adrenaline fueling me and warding off the pain. I turned around, but all I saw was darkness. I crawled into my car and dialed 9-1-1. It was going to be a long night.

  23

  Alonso

  He hobbled back to his car, wincing in pain. That damn woman had gotten him pretty good - right in the groin. But he got her even better, and hopefully she received the message loud and clear because he wasn’t messing around. It was one thing for her to poke her nose in things when she was back home in California. It was quite another to fly across the country and start snooping around and questioning one of the Henleys.

  He didn’t know how much more it would take to get this lady off the case, but he knew the boss would not be pleased when he got his next report. Safely back on the highway, he dialed the boss. “Hey, Boss.”