Deadly Discovery
Page 4
She flipped the page and was about to get up when something caught her eye. An ad in bold print glared at her from the center of the page: The Office of Alex Strange, Private Investigator, Is Open At Its New Location! Free, Discreet Consultation. A Man of Integrity, Experience, and Strength. Choose Alex Strange.
Mara sat with her mouth open. Alex Strange—is this a joke? This must be a joke. It can’t be a coincidence. This man stole my character’s identity. I had better check it out. She picked up her phone and called the number in the ad.
“Alex Strange’s office. How may I help you?” a sappy-sweet voice on the other end asked.
I bet she’s all boobs and no brains. And probably blonde. “Yes, I’d like to speak to Mr. Strange?”
“I’m sorry. He’s unavailable at the moment.”
I bet he is! Mara got a sugar high from the way the secretary spoke.
“May I take a message?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. I would like to make an appointment to see Mr. Strange, if possible.”
“Certainly. When would you like to come in?”
“Does he have any openings today?”
“Yes, ma’am. How about two o’clock?”
“That will be fine. Thank you.”
“May I have your name please?”
“Mara Byrne. With a Y.”
“A Y?”
“Yes. B—Y—R—N—E.”
“Okay, thank you. See you this afternoon, Ms. Byrne.”
Mara hung up the phone. She was already preparing her speech to Mr. Strange. He’s going to get a piece of my mind. He’s got a lot of nerve stealing my character’s name. Mara picked up the phone again.
“Luc, you’re not going to believe what I saw in the newspaper.”
“What? A sale at J.C. Penney?”
“No. I’m being serious. I saw an ad for a private investigator named Alex Strange!”
“Alex Strange? But that’s—”
“Yes, exactly. My character. He’s a private investigator and she’s a private investigator. How’s that for coincidence? I don’t think it’s a coincidence at all. I think he’s using that name to—” She stopped mid-sentence. Why is he using my character’s name? “Well, I don’t know why he’s using her name, but I’m going to find out.”
“How?” Lucia asked.
“I have an appointment with him at two this afternoon.”
“Really? Just because his name is the same as the one you use in your novels?”
“Yes. Don’t you think I have a right to know?”
“Well, sure, I guess.”
“I’ll let you know how it goes. Talk to you later, Luc.” Mara ended the call. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing. Maybe she should let it go. It could be a huge coincidence. But she needed to know. Too much had been taken away from her: Thomas, her marriage, and now this, her character’s identity. She would not sit by and let something else slip through her fingers.
Eleven
On time, Mara arrived at Alex Strange’s office located on the corner of Main and 13th Street in downtown Riverside. The warm and inviting office surprised her. She expected to see a shabby little room with piles of papers stacked everywhere and a blonde bimbo sitting at a desk filing her unnaturally long red nails while cigarette smoke lingered in the stale air. She blamed it on the cliché Private Investigator novels.
Instead she found a bright young brunette in a very professional white-linen pantsuit. Her name plate read Janet Solerno. The secretary was both friendly and courteous. Nothing like Mara had imagined over the phone. Her voice didn’t really drip with sweetness as she’d thought. Janet offered Mara coffee and did not waste time in letting Mr. Strange know she had arrived. Mara was impressed and more than a little embarrassed that she had allowed herself to stereotype Janet during their phone conversation.
The reception area was expensively furnished. Overstuffed leather chairs and dark cherry tables were tastefully arranged so the waiting area projected a feeling of comfort and warmth. A flat LED television anchored to the side wall was tuned in to a 24-hour news channel. Janet’s desk was neat and tidy. She worked from a laptop connected to a 21-inch flat-screen monitor. A reproduction of Monet’s Water Lilies hung in an ornate gold frame on the wall behind Janet’s desk.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
Mara was admiring the painting when Alex Strange walked into the waiting area.
All the stereotypical ideas she had about him flew right out the window. Gone was the notion he was a bald, paunchy middle-aged man in suspenders. His sleeves weren’t rolled up to his elbows, nor was there a tattoo of a woman’s name, Mom, or a rose on his forearm. He didn’t smell of cigarettes, cigars, or corned beef and cabbage. She stood there staring at him—in awe.
He blushed and smiled as he offered Mara his hand.
She took it and held it for a long time. Now she was the one blushing.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Byrne. It’s very nice to meet you. Would you like to step into my office?” He gestured toward the door. “Hold all my calls, Janet.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Strange followed Mara inside his office and closed the door. “Please have a seat, Mrs. Byrne.”
Mara sat in one of the two overstuffed chairs across from his desk. She saw nothing else but him. His office could have been built on a cliff and she wouldn’t have noticed. She memorized every inch of his remarkable face to later give Lucia all the details.
Neither tall or short, Alex was the perfect height. Slightly stocky, his arm muscles bulged. Mara imagined ripples on his abdomen underneath his crisp white shirt. His artic-blue eyes cooled her inner flame while his sensual smile warmed her soul. The dimples in his cheeks gave him a boyish, angelic look. Tanned, his sun-streaked blond curls were delicate and sensual. He looked to be in his mid-thirties; even his eyes had a youthful glow that gave him an irresistible charm.
Okay. Stop staring and get down to business. Mara cleared her throat. “Thank you for seeing me today, Mr. Strange.”
“You’re welcome. What can I do for you?”
“Well, Mr. Strange—”
He held up his hand. “Please, call me Alex.”
“All right. Alex. The reason I asked to see you today may seem a little bizarre.”
“Not possible, Mrs. Byrne. I’ve heard everything.”
“I’m sure you have, but the reason I wanted to talk to you is—” Mara stopped. She had second thoughts. Perhaps I did overreact. She smoothed her hair and shifted in her seat. “No, you know what, never mind.” Mara curled a section of hair around her ear. “I made a mistake in coming here. I’m sorry I wasted your time. I’ll understand if you want to bill me.” Mara stood, ready to leave.
Alex motioned her to sit. “Mrs. Byrne, please let me be the judge of whether or not you wasted my time. It must have been important for you to seek out my services.”
Mara returned to her seat. “That’s just it, Mr.—I mean, Alex. I didn’t really seek out your services. I don’t need a private investigator.”
Alex’s eyebrows crooked. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. Didn’t you call to set up this appointment?”
His good looks made this all the more difficult. Mara looked at her hands to avoid his gaze. “Yes, I did, but my reason for making the appointment was because—” She stopped. In no way did she want to tell this nice man that she had come here to chew him out. “Ah…this is embarrassing.” She shifted in her chair again.
“Mrs. Byrne, please, let me assure you, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I promise. Tell me why you made the appointment.”
“I was angry with you,” she blurted.
Alex smiled. “Mrs. Byrne, in my line of work I often make people angry. People feel I poke into places I don’t belong. I give them ammunition to use against spouses in divorces, custody battles, and all sorts of lawsuits. I’m not surprised when I get an irate visit, phone call, or even threat letters. It comes with the territory.”
Alex looked at her in surprise. “My name?”
“Have you ever heard of me before today?”
“No, I can’t say as I have. Should I know you?”
“I’m a writer. I write crime novels. I’ve written a series of novels based on a character named Alex Strange. She’s a private investigator. So, when I saw your ad in the newspaper, I thought you stole my character’s name to bring in more customers.”
Alex burst out laughing. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am serious. Why do you find this so amusing?” Mara asked indignantly.
“Because, in all my years in this business, this has got to be the best line I’ve ever heard.”
“Excuse me?” Mara’s brow shot up and she stiffened in her seat. “What do you mean line?”
Still chuckling, Alex said, “You know…pick-up line. Did Matt put you up to this? This is the best one yet. He definitely deserves an expensive bottle of Scotch for this one.”
Her face reddened. “I assure you, I don’t know what you are talking about. This is not a pick-up line and I don’t know a Matt. You flatter yourself too much. You have to be the most egotistical man I’ve ever met.” His good looks no longer blinded her. Mara rose from the chair and stared at him with all the contempt she could muster. I can’t believe this pompous ass.
Getting to his feet, Alex fought to regain his composure. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Byrne, forgive me. My friend Matt always pulls pranks on me. I assumed that he was up to his old tricks again.”
“You assumed wrong, Mr. Strange. If you think I’d be party to a schoolboy prank, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“Please. Sit. That was very unprofessional of me. I apologize.”
Mara sat, uncertain why she didn’t leave, but something about his eyes melted her anger. For reasons unknown, she couldn’t stay mad at him. Obviously, he had not stolen Alex’s name, at least not on purpose. I’m such an idiot.
“Mrs. Byrne, I promise you, I was born with this name at birth. My full name is Alexander Joseph Strange.”
Mara sighed, “I apologize for the mistake, and I assure you I won’t bother you again. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately and I suppose I jumped to conclusions.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Byrne. I acted very unprofessionally.”
Before Mara knew what was happening, tears poured from her eyes. She turned her head away so Alex could not see them, but he did and grabbed a box of tissues off the table behind his desk.
He walked over to her. Knelt on the floor beside her chair and handed her the box.
“Thank you,” Mara said as she accepted it. She wiped her tears.
“Mrs. Byrne, what’s wrong? I’m sorry for the way I behaved. Please accept my sincerest apologies.”
“It’s not that.” Mara let the words spill like the tears that poured out of her red, swollen eyes. She told him everything: about Thomas’s death, about the letter, and about losing control. When she saw his ad in the newspaper that was the proverbial last straw. By the time she finished an hour later, a colossal weight lifted from her shoulders.
During her confession, Alex never said a word as he sat in the chair next to her while she let it all out. When she finished, he looked at her tenderly. “Mrs. Byrne, let me help you. Let me look for the person who wrote the letter.”
Mara could not believe she heard him right. “Do you really think you can find out who it was?”
Alex shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, but I’ll give it my best shot. I promise you that.”
Staring at the floor, Mara took a deep breath and then sighed with relief. She was going to have help. Together, maybe they could find the mysterious Rebecca Kincaid. “I’d appreciate your help very much.”
They stood and walked to the door. Full of renewed hope, Mara wanted to get started today, but knew it might take some time, so she decided to be patient. Why hadn’t she thought to hire a private detective in the first place? Perhaps the ad was divine intervention.
“Come by next Monday. We’ll get started, and please bring the letter. Will Monday work for you?”
Mara took Alex’s hand in hers and held it. The warmth and strength made her insides quiver. “Sounds wonderful. Thank you, Alex.”
They walked out. His secretary was pecking away on her keyboard.
“Janet, put Mrs. Byrne on the schedule for 9:00 a.m., Monday morning. Is my schedule clear?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Okay, Mrs. Byrne, I’ll see you Monday. Try to put this out of your mind for now and have a pleasant weekend. Don’t worry,” he said as he put his strong hand on her shoulder, “we’ll get to the bottom of this.”
She nodded and left his office. I hope he’s right. Between their combined resources and his experience, maybe they could solve the mystery of who wrote the letter. All this effort just to find out if Thomas really did have an affair seemed overwhelming.
Twelve
When Monday morning arrived, Mara’s stomach began to knot and her nerves felt like Mexican jumping beans. She couldn’t wait to solve the mystery of the letter. Truth be told, she couldn’t wait to see Alex again.
She arrived at Alex’s office on time, eager to get started. He escorted her into his office and offered her a cup of coffee, but she declined. As jumpy as her nerves felt, a cup of coffee would have surely pushed her over the edge. She certainly didn’t need to be more wired.
“Please sit.” Alex motioned her to the conference table. Taking a seat himself, he began to scribble notes on a yellow legal pad. He put his pen down and looked at Mara. “How was your weekend?”
“Quiet.” She smiled.
“Good. Ready to start?”
Mara nodded anxiously.
“Tell me about yourself.”
His question puzzled her. “Why do you want to know about me?”
“I feel that the better I know my clients, the better I can serve them.”
“How far back do you want me to go?”
“Give me a little background information on yourself. You know, where you were born, siblings, education. Anything you can think of.”
Mara still didn’t understand why her background was relevant, but her desire to do everything possible to ensure their success won out. She inhaled a deep breath. Where do I begin? “Well, I was born in Persimmon Hollow, Arkansas.”
Alex raised his eyebrows. “Really? Interesting name for a town.”
“Well, it wasn’t really a town so much as a community. It’s very rural. My parents were poor. It was very hard for them to provide for seven children. When I graduated from high school, they sent me to live with my aunt here in Riverside. She was like a second mother to me. My parents wanted me to get a good education.”
“Does she still live in the area?”
“Oh no, she died years ago.”
He nodded his condolences. “Go on,” Alex said as he scribbled furiously.
“After I moved here, I enrolled in Cal Baptist and got a part-time job at Rosewood Convalescent Center where I met Thomas. He used to visit his grandmother, Abby, every Sunday. She raised him after his parents were killed in an automobile accident. He was only four years old at the time of their death. Very tragic. Miraculously, he wasn’t in the car with them, because his parents had just dropped him off at a playmate’s house for a sleepover.”
Realizing she had strayed somewhat, Mara went on. “We dated during my time at Cal Baptist. After I graduated from college, we married. Thomas had an outstanding job and was a very good provider. He wanted me to be a housewife, which freed up my time to pursue writing. I wrote my first novel and a couple years later it was published.”
“That was the first book of your Alex Strange series?”
“Yes, the first of seven. Anyway, we were very happy—at least I thought so. If the letter is any indication, then I don’t suppose Thomas wa
s.”
“Did Thomas have many friends? Do you know of anyone who had a grudge against him?”
“No. Everyone liked Thomas. I don’t know of anyone who would play such a cruel joke. Besides, if they wanted to cause problems for him, why not send the letter to the house where I would have found it?”
“You’re right, but I have to eliminate all possibilities.”
“Sure, I understand.”
“May I see the letter?”
Mara took the envelope out of her purse and passed it to him.
Alex pulled the letter out with care and read it silently. While he read, he stopped to make notes on his legal pad. Finally, after what seemed like a very long time, he looked at her. “Mara. May I call you Mara?”
“Of course, absolutely.”
“Mara, do you believe your husband had an affair?”
“A week ago, I would have said definitely not, but now I have my doubts. I want to know for sure one way or the other.”
“Why? Do you want to confront the other woman? Because if you mean to cause harm—”
“No, no. I wouldn’t. I want to know for my own peace of mind. I promise you, I do not intend to hurt anyone.”
“Good, because if you have that in mind, I must refuse to continue with this investigation.”
“I understand. Believe me when I tell you that I do not want to cause harm to anyone.”
“Okay, then let’s continue. The other day you said you spoke with your husband’s best friend and his boss. Have you contacted anyone else?”
“I let my best friend, Lucia, read it.”
“Your husband’s boss provided you with the name of the person he believes might be R.K.?”
“Yes, he mentioned a woman by the name of Rebecca Kincaid. She worked in my husband’s office for about a year and a half. Nathan thinks she moved to Chicago.”
“I’ll need to get in touch with him so I can ask him a few more questions. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Not at all; I’ll give you his number.”
“You also said your husband opened the safe-deposit box on June 1, over a year ago. Is that correct?”