Chapter 13
I waved to catch Pete’s attention and gestured for him to follow me to the office. On the way, I said, “Lizzie, do you mind if I put you on speaker so my, um, partner can hear this, too?”
“Not a problem,” she replied.
I switched over to speaker as Pete was closing the door behind us. I said to him, “This is Ryan’s sister, Lizzie. She says Mandi is missing.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Again?”
Lizzie asked, “Did you say ‘again’?”
I replied, “Yes. Scott, her deceased husband, had been under the impression that she’d gone missing for a time this past weekend. He must have been confused, because it turned out she wasn’t actually missing.” I got on tiptoe to whisper in Pete’s ear, “Remember she works for the newspaper and is married to the lead investigative reporter. Don’t say anything you don’t want on the front page.”
He nodded.
“Hmm,” Lizzie said. “That seems a little fishy, given what’s going on now. Anyway, I heard this from my friend Bethany, who’s Scott’s cousin, who heard it from his mom. Mandi never made it to the appointment this morning to plan Scott’s funeral. She’d insisted on it being early so she didn’t have to miss work, and then she didn’t bother to show up at all. Scott’s mom got upset, naturally, and tried to track her down, but couldn’t. She freaked and filed a missing persons report.”
I shot Pete a questioning look. This could easily have been hometown gossip gone wild, especially when Bethany McCool was involved.
Lizzie continued, “To verify it, I called my cousin Becca, who’s the funeral director. She heard the whole thing. And then I called my friend William, who’s a cop, and he confirmed that Scott’s mom had reported Mandi missing. There’s a BOLO out for Mandi, but no official search yet. The police feel that it’s not a red flag that she skipped out on making the funeral arrangements, plus she’s technically only been missing for an hour or so. It’s not even out of the question that she might have left town for a while without mentioning it to anyone, since she’s a grieving widow and all.”
Pete and I shared a look of disbelief at the term “grieving widow,” but I was still beginning to get an uneasy feeling in my gut.
I said, “Scott’s mom can be a bit of a drama queen. Are you sure she didn’t blow this out of proportion just because Mandi flaked on the funeral planning?”
“Becca said her reaction seemed pretty genuine. According to Becca, Scott’s mom got on the phone and called a bunch of Scott and Mandi’s family, friends, and coworkers. None of them had seen or heard from her since she left work yesterday. I spoke with one of her coworkers a moment ago, and as of now, she’s about thirty minutes late for work and has yet to call in.”
Pete whispered to me, “She’s at work this week? Shouldn’t she be, I don’t know, grieving?”
“You saw how indifferent she was the day after. If I were to guess, I think Scott dying didn’t cramp her style at all,” I murmured.
While I wasn’t a bit surprised that Mandi had little interest in the planning of Scott’s funeral, I was worried about the rest of it. All else aside, Mandi wasn’t the kind of employee to miss work without calling in, “grieving widow” or not. Plus, whenever she’d worked for me, she had that cellphone of hers glued to her hand every moment she wasn’t actively waiting tables. She was constantly texting friends and posting stupid selfies on social media. If Mandi was on radio silence, something was up.
I replied, “I appreciate the heads-up, Lizzie. Thank you.” Still a little worried she’d called to try to wrangle something else out of us, I pressed end call before she had a chance to reply.
Pete turned to me, his face stony. “Does this mean what I think it could mean?”
“That there’s an excellent possibility Scott wasn’t raving like a lunatic when he came in here Saturday railing about Mandi being missing? Yes. What if Mandi actually had disappeared for a time, but for some reason felt she had to lie to us about it?”
He let out a breath. “If she’s in danger, it could also mean that our theory on Scott’s accidental overdose is bogus.”
“Yep.”
“Which means when Detective Delaney hears about this—and he will—he could think the same thing, and we’re back to being persons of interest.”
“Also yep.”
“What are we going to do about it?”
I pulled a face. “Up for another road trip?”
Sighing, he walked over to the desk and began fiddling with the guitar-shaped music box I’d stolen back from Scott. I’d displayed it on the desk because I’d see it much more here than if it were at my apartment. “I’m sorry, Jules, but there’s no way I can take a day off right now. I’ve got some serious country music royalty coming in this week, and I have to be there.”
“I know you’re busy. I’m a big girl. I’ll go by myself.”
He turned, a worried frown marring his face. “I don’t like that idea, either.”
There was a knock at the door. When I opened it, Ryder was standing there with an expression similar to Pete’s. He said, “My contact at the Liberty PD just informed me that there’s been a missing persons report filed on Mandi O’Malley.”
Pete and I said in unison, “We know.”
Ryder said, “Bad news travels fast. Do you feel like this puts a new spin on Scott’s death? Or are you thinking this is another instance of misinformation concerning his wife’s whereabouts?”
I sighed. “We were just discussing that.”
“I think you and I should discuss it on the drive to Liberty.”
His willingness to help was incredibly touching. “Thanks for offering, but this is my fight. You don’t have to get mixed up in it.”
“I don’t want to see you being harassed by one of my fellow detectives for something you didn’t do.”
“It could be another wild-goose chase.”
Shrugging, he replied, “Sure, it could be. Or think of it this way—if the woman really is missing, maybe we can help. If not, running an investigation is still good practice for you and something for me to do today.”
“You must be seriously bored if you think a trip to Liberty will be interesting.”
Pete cut in, “Jules, now that you have some backup, I’m all for it. If something bad has happened to Mandi, the police are going to take another look at Scott’s case, which could mean more headaches for us. Rhonda can hold down the fort here, and I’ll take a raincheck for tonight. Go do what you gotta do.”
I nodded, knowing they were both right. “Okay. I guess that means we’re road-tripping, then.”
Ryder smiled. “Let’s get a move on.”
Once Ryder headed out the door, Pete caught me by the arm. “Be safe, okay? Don’t take any unnecessary risks or anything.”
I grinned. “When have I ever done that?”
He pulled me closer. “I’m serious. And hurry back.” Leaning toward me, he gave me a light kiss on the cheek, which was enough to send a tingly thrill through me.
“I will,” I replied. I grabbed my purse and Scott’s tablet, which I’d stashed in Java Jive’s safe, not having known what else to do with it. After giving Pete a wave, I hurried to catch up with Ryder, who was not as far down the hall as I’d expected him to be. “I’ll drive,” I said to him, reaching for my keys.
“Nah, I’ll do it.”
“Hey, you’re doing me a huge favor here. The least I can do is drive.”
He held the front door of the coffeehouse open for me. “No, thanks.”
“Why not?”
“You’re a terrible driver.”
I stopped in the parking lot to stare at him. “What? I am not.”
“Yes, you are. Do you know how many traffic laws you break every time you get behind the wheel? You speed, you don’t stop at stop signs, you pass people on the wrong side, and you generally scare the shit out of me anytime I ride with you. I could have given you seven citations the last time you drove me som
ewhere.”
“Seven citations? Whatever. You’re a white-collar-crime detective, not Tennessee’s version of CHiPs. When was the last time you even pulled someone over? You probably don’t know how to operate a radar gun.”
“Maybe not, but I can look over and see your speedometer.” He opened the passenger door of his car. “Get in.”
“Fine,” I huffed, secretly happy I didn’t have to drive. Ryder complained incessantly when he rode with me, which had been a lot more in the past few months due to his injury. It wasn’t a bad thing to not have to listen to his nagging all the way to Indiana.
“I’ll drive you to your apartment so you can pack an overnight bag.”
I made a face. “Overnight? Are we going to be there that long? And who’s going to take care of Max for you?” I was his go-to dog sitter.
“If we end up staying, Maya said she’d feed him and let him out. I think we should be prepared for anything. You of all people should know investigations never go quickly.”
“I guess I see your point.” I glanced in his backseat and noticed a duffel bag. “You already had your bag packed?”
“Yeah.”
“Before you came and asked me if I wanted to make the trip.”
“So?”
Laughing, I said, “You’re such a nerd. You’re dying to investigate this. Why?”
He sighed. “I’m bored out of my mind doing busywork for Maya.”
There was more to it than that. I could tell by the consternation on his face. “And?”
“And…nothing.”
“Liar.”
“Fine. If you must know, I’m tired of taking orders from my girlfriend.”
I nodded. “There it is.”
“If you tell her I said that…”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
“Hey, speaking of nerds, what’s going on with you and Pete?”
I felt a blush tinge my cheeks. “Nothing.”
“Right. So that heartfelt goodbye in the office was nothing.”
I gasped. “I knew you were spying on us.”
“So you’re dating him and that little boy?”
“Okay, one, don’t ever say it like that, because it makes me sound like a child molester. And two, I am most certainly not still involved with Cooper, especially after what he did.”
“What did he do?”
By now we had pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex. I nodded toward my apartment. “I’ll let you see for yourself.”
True to his word, my super had already fixed the damage to my front door, which I was happy to see, especially since I was going to be out of town.
I opened the door and gestured inside. “I figure Cooper broke in last night between when I dumped him and when I got home.”
As Ryder took a look around at the mess, his jaw clenched and unclenched at least three times. He finally ground out, “This kid lives next door?”
“Yeah, why?”
Ryder stalked to Cooper’s door and started pounding on it with his fist.
“Ryder, stop. I don’t want to get into it right now with him.”
But of course Ryder being Ryder, he didn’t listen to a word I said. Cooper finally answered the door, groggy with sleep and in his pajamas. Ryder grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him, protesting, into my apartment and pinned him against the wall.
Getting in Cooper’s face, Ryder demanded, “What the hell did you think you were doing breaking into this apartment and trashing it? Did Juliet break your little millennial heart and you couldn’t find a better way to control your hurt feelings? Is that it?”
While he was grilling his suspect, I was busy covering my face with my hands and wishing the ground would open up and swallow me.
Cooper squeaked out, “I didn’t do this. I swear. I would never do anything to hurt her or upset her. Juliet, you know me. Tell him I would never do this to you!”
I looked Cooper straight in the eye. “So you really didn’t bust in my door last night and wreck the place after I broke things off with you?”
“No, and it makes me sad that you’d even think that about me.”
Well, now I felt bad. In the back of my mind, I never believed Cooper had it in him to trash my apartment, even though the timing and motive made perfect sense. Worse, since Cooper didn’t do it, there was someone out there who had broken in for a whole other reason, and I had no idea what that reason was.
Ryder wasn’t as convinced of Cooper’s innocence as I was. “Where did you go last night after Juliet’s performance?”
“I called a couple of buddies and had them meet me downtown. We closed down one of the bars, and I got back here around two. You’re welcome to check with them if you don’t believe me.”
Ryder started to say something, but I stopped him. “That’s not necessary, Cooper. I believe you. I’m sorry I accused you.”
Striving for a bit of dignity, Cooper straightened his rumpled T-shirt and walked out the door without another word.
I frowned at Ryder. “Did you have to go all bad cop on him?”
He ignored my comment, busying himself with walking around my living room and inspecting the damage. After a few moments, he said, “If your boy toy didn’t do this, I’m worried about who did. Why didn’t you call this in last night?”
“I thought I knew who did it. Plus, I wasn’t robbed. My TV and jewelry are both still here. I had my guitar with me, and my laptop was at Java Jive. Other than that, I don’t have much else to steal.”
“If nothing valuable was stolen, then someone was either sending a message or looking for something. Who have you pissed off lately?”
“Only Cooper. And maybe a couple of people in Liberty. But who’d drive all this way to get even with me for asking a few uncomfortable questions?”
“Someone who thought you were getting too close. Who were your uncomfortable conversations with?”
“Mandi, for one. But I guess she might have an alibi, if she’s actually been kidnapped this time. And her lover, Jared Fisher, essentially threw me out of his house.”
“Looks like we have our first good suspect in this mess.”
Chapter 14
Ryder and I formulated our game plan for the day on the drive to Liberty. We’d decided to begin at Mandi’s house. When we pulled up to the curb, the place looked exactly like it had when Pete and I were here earlier in the week. There wasn’t anything that seemed amiss, even though one occupant was dead, and the other had vanished without a trace.
We got out of the car and began to look around. I wished I hadn’t been so quick to give up Scott’s keys, but I didn’t figure Ryder would be on board with unlawful entry, so it would have been a moot point anyway.
Ryder peered through the tiny decorative windows on the garage door. “There’s a vehicle in there.”
“Must be Mandi’s, because Scott’s is probably still in Nashville.”
Ryder went to the front door, knocked, and waited. “Mandi? Mandi O’Malley? This is Detective Ryder Hamilton. Can you open up, please?” He turned to me. “With her vehicle still here, if she went somewhere of her own free will, it either had to be within walking distance or she had to have someone drive her. But you said none of the people Scott’s mother called knew where she was?”
“Right. Two problems with that, though. Mandi is a marathon runner—the real deal. I think she’s done the Boston Marathon before. So, ‘walking distance’ for her is like twenty-six miles. Also, it’s a good possibility Scott’s mom didn’t know all her daughter-in-law’s friends, especially if one of them is her lover. I think we need to run down Jared Fisher.”
“Works for me.”
—
As we walked up the sidewalk between two perfectly manicured flowerbeds bursting with colorful fall mums, I said, “I wonder if anyone at Silver Spruce Pharmaceuticals is going to give us the time of day.” The Silver Spruce office was one of many in a complex in a new office park at the edge of town.
“Why wouldn’t they?” Ryder asked.
“We have no clout here. You have no jurisdiction, and in Indiana, my Tennessee PI license isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on.”
He grinned and held the door open for me. “I’m banking on the fact that a bunch of suits in an office don’t know that. I’m certainly not going to tell them.”
The Silver Spruce Pharmaceuticals office was on the second floor, so we took the elevator up and had to walk only a short distance down the hall. When we opened the door, a young receptionist every bit as beautiful as Mandi looked up from her desk and asked, “May I help you?”
Ryder flashed his badge at her, too quickly for her to notice that it read, metropolitan nashville police department. Then he flashed her one of his trademark sexy smiles. “I hope so. I’m Detective Ryder Hamilton, and this is my partner, Juliet Langley. We’re here to speak to Jared Fisher.”
She gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Detective. Jared is out on a call this morning.”
I had a thought, racking my brain to come up with the name of the man who had sent Scott the email I’d read. “Maybe it would be helpful to speak to the manager…” The name finally came to me. “Is Doug McKay available?”
While the receptionist hurried away from her desk to get Doug McKay, Ryder murmured, “Did you pull that name out of your ass or what?”
“Scott got a strongly worded email from this guy last week telling him to stay off the property here, so he should have some kind of insight for us about whether any of his workers were having trouble with one another.”
Moments later, a portly, balding man waddled toward us. He stuck out his hand to Ryder. “I’m Doug McKay. You must be Detective Hamilton.”
Ryder shook hands with him and flashed his badge again. “Yes, and this is Ms. Langley. We’d like to speak to you in private.”
“Follow me,” McKay said, ushering us toward his office.
The guy seemed nervous, but I couldn’t tell if that was his personality or if it was the shock of being visited by a stern detective. On the way past a clump of cubicles, I saw Daniel sitting at one and waved to him. He gave me a puzzled smile and waved back, probably not expecting to see me waltz into his office at random. I passed Chandra, but she dropped her head and pretended she hadn’t seen me. There were two men I didn’t recognize sitting at desks, heads down, both on the phone.
Murder Over Mochas Page 11