Suzette shook her head. “What is it about elected officials? Sometimes I think that the only people who run for office are ‘empire builders’. They aren’t interested in doing a good job–they just want the glory.”
Barnes smiled, “I haven’t had much experience with elected officials in general, just the ones I have to work with and–“
”I understand,” Suzette said with a smile, when he didn’t finish his sentence. “I’m curious. What was the body wearing?”
“A peach colored nightgown, no robe, no slippers. We found some fluffy white mules a short distance from the gazebo. There was chiffon robe in a pile on the landward side of the walkway.”
Suzette tapped her finger on the arm of her chair. “Then it looks like Jeanette was sneaking up on someone in the gazebo. But what would have caused her to cross the walkway without slippers or a robe?”
“I wonder if she heard something on the sand that excited her curiosity.” Barnes wondered.
“I have a feeling when we know the answer to that we’ll know who killed her. I think I may know why she was killed, though. Hallie gave me the impression which I later confirmed with Cordelia, that Jeannette liked to snoop. She liked to know things about people that she could use to embarrass them. Amy Park, who is Jeremy Stewart’s secretary, told me that Mrs. Stewart liked to hint about things she knew just to make people very uncomfortable. She said she wouldn’t be surprised if Mrs. Stewart was in the blackmailing business, not only for money or expensive things, because she felt like the world owed her a living but, also, because she liked to hurt people.”
“Sounds like a deadly little habit,” Barnes commented. “But what could she know that someone would kill to keep her from telling?”
“Right now, I don’t know. There are a lot of undercurrents revolving in that household.” Quickly, she told him about the turtle-pirate battle and the Dorothea/Sean problem. “Then there’s Derek. He strikes me a small-time con man but he has an arrogance that doesn’t belong to a small, time crook. He dresses very expensively–thousand dollar suits, silk shirts and socks, leather shoes that look like ostrich, but they are always loud–bright–I don’t know what you’d call it–but I wouldn’t be caught dead in what he wears. Then his hair is perfectly waved, he never gets dirty, but when he opens his mouth he doesn’t have teeth, he has fangs.”
She ran her hand along the back of her head, smoothing her hair. “I get the feeling that something is going on under the cover of the turtle-pirate battle. I have no idea what it is, but the emotions those two subjects aroused at the dinner table were anything but harmless.”
Barnes said, slowly, “I think it would be a good idea if you talked to the Sheriff. I’ll give him a call to smooth your path. He needs to know what’s going on at The Palms. He can tell you more about the body and the crime scene.” He picked up the phone and punched in the number. After fighting his way through the county voice mail, he was finally connected with the sheriff. “Hey, Will, are you swamped this morning? No? Good. Jeremy Stewart, Jeanette Stewart’s son from San Francisco hired an insurance investigator. She’s here in my office right now. No, she isn’t a battle axe.” He paused, “Well, the thing I thought would interest you is that she is actually staying in the house as Cordelia Campbell’s guest. Yes, she has access to a lot of information. Could you see her this morning?” He looked at his watch. “I think 11:30 would be okay.” He looked at Suzette who nodded.
“That’s okay with her. You want me to come with her? What’s up?”
Barnes hung up the phone then turned back to Suzette. “What’s strange? He wants to meet with you and me at 11:30.”
Suzette laughed. “Thanks for telling him I wasn’t a battle axe. I appreciate that. Insurance investigators aren’t real popular with elected officials.”
“Probably because insurance agents aren’t real popular in most areas. Around here, there’s still some real bad feelings about the way the damage was handled after Hurricane Hugo. It took some people more than four years to get their claims paid. I know a family that ended up living in a tent when they ran out of money and couldn’t get started rebuilding their house.”
“I know. I was just getting started in the business when that happened. I had been assigned to a corporate case so I wasn’t sent down here, but that’s one of the reasons I quit to free-lance. This way I can represent my clients, not the insurance company.” She looked at her watch. “Would you like a ride?”
“No need. It’s just across the street. Is there anything else I can tell you before we head over that way?”
“I can’t think of anything else right now, but that may change after we talk to the sheriff. I must admit that there doesn’t seem to be any point in burning the gazebo if it wasn’t used to hide evidence of the murder, if it was murder. It was an old building, true, but it was in good condition and it was used a lot. What was the point in it all?”
Barnes shook his head. “You’ve got me. I’ve wondered about it, too. It simply doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.” He went around the desk and opened the door. “We’d better head over to Miner’s office. He won’t thank us for keeping him waiting.”
As Suzette preceded Barnes into Sheriff Miner’s office, she was surprised to see four men where she just expected to see one. The blond haired man that was sitting behind the desk got to his feet. “Ms. Bishop, I’m glad to meet you. Won’t you sit down?” His tone made a mockery of his words. His tone was condescending and faintly hostile. He then looked at Barnes. “Greg, I don’t think we need to take your time right now. I know you’re buried with work.”
Barnes looked from Miner to Suzette, shrugged, then said, “It’s nice to have meet you. I’ll get back with you when the tests come back.”
“Thank you,” Suzette said, neutrally as she looked at the other men.
“Ms. Bishop, suppose you tell me why you are here.” His tone was openly hostile.
“I’m a private insurance investigator. I work for the client, not the insurance company.” Suzette reached in her bag, pulled out her business card and handed it to Sheriff Miner. “I’ve been hired by Jeremy Stewart to look into the insurance aspects of the gazebo fire and the death of Jeanette Stewart for Miss Cordelia Campbell. I understand both from Mr. Stewart and from Miss Campbell, that they haven’t been able to get any answers from you about Mrs. Stewart’s death. Miss Campbell also tells me that no one will tell her when her sister’s body will be released for burial.”
She paused as he handed her card to the man sitting next to him. Each man took the card, read it, then handed it to his neighbor.
She tapped her index finger against the arm of the chair she was sitting in. She could feel the anger beginning. “Why do I get the idea that you aren’t listening to me?” She smiled sweetly, but the smile didn’t hide the flash of anger in her eyes.
“I’m not ignoring you,” Miner said calmly. “I just want you to answer some questions for me before I answer your questions.”
“All right. What is it you want to know?”
“Why is Mr. Stewart so concerned about all this? He has called me at least twenty times since the fire.”
Suzette stared at him for a minute. “The victim just happens to be his mother. Wouldn’t you be concerned if your mother died in a fire and no one would give you a straight answer?”
“I think we can leave my reactions out of our conversation,” he said coolly.
“Perhaps, we can,” Suzette said through clinched teeth. “However,”
He interrupted her. “What are you planning to do here?” His tone was so hostile that it could be used as paint remover.
Suddenly, Suzette’s anger flared. “You may think you know everything, Sheriff Miner, but obviously you don’t know me. I don’t think I’m going to stay here and answer your questions. It’s obvious that you aren’t going to tell me a darn thing. And since I’m too much of a lady to tell you to your face what I think of your bullying methods, I’ll be going.”
/> Picking up her bag, she got to her feet. One of the men reached out to grab her arm, but she sidestepped him. She was through the door and half way across the outer office when one of the men said, “Ms. Bishop, it would be in your best interest to stay and talk to us.”
“Would it, now? I certainly don’t agree with you. I think it would be in my client’s best interests to request a court order forcing you to release the body so the family can bury it. It has been three weeks. In any jurisdiction I’ve ever worked in, the investigators have, at least, determined whether or not they have a homicide case.
“You won’t get anything if you don’t talk to us.”
Suzette raised her eyebrows. “Really? I wonder what a judge would say about that. I believe I will call Jeremy and ask him to file a writ of Habeas Corpus or whatever he needs to file to get his mother’s body released. I think I might even alert one of my friends at the New York Times to be watching for the story. If it’s a slow news day, who knows what might happen.”
There was a pause while all four men looked at each other. “All right, Ms. Bishop, you win. I was told that you have a formidable personality when it comes to your clients, but--” The man was big and blond, though not as big as Miner. His voice deep and resonant.
”You didn’t realize that I would use whatever legal means available to secure justice for my clients? I’ve heard it before. I’m sure I’ll hear it again.”
Sheriff Miner surged to his feet. “I won’t have some whelp of a girl telling me how to run my county. Go ahead and make your calls. I’ll show you who runs this county, and it ain’t you! Now get out!”
Without a word, Suzette turned and walked out of the office, closing the door very quietly behind her. Using all her self-control, she smiled at the receptionist. “Thank you,” she said as she left the office.
Chapter 12
Down in the foyer, Suzette leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, trying to bring her livid emotions under control. “Okay, Suz, I think you blew it.” She shook her head as she went back over the interview. “Then again maybe not. I really don’t think he was going to tell you anything. There was just too much hostility for that and I wonder why?” Slowly, she walked across the foyer and out into the sunshine. As she inserted her key into the lock of rental car, a man said, “Ms. Bishop, could I talk to you for a few minutes?”
She looked up across the roof of the car. It was one of the men that had been in Sheriff Miner’s office. “My name is Mitch Scott,” he said, smiling tentatively. He was another big man, about 6' 5" tall, possibly 210 pounds of solid muscle, two dimples, dark hair and dark eyes.
She frowned. “I’m not going back up there to be insulted again.”
”I don’t blame you.” He had a nice smile, just a bit sexy, Suzette thought, her hormones revving up a bit.
“Hey, could we discuss this over lunch?” He looked at all the people on the sidewalk. “It’s a bit public here for a private conversation.”
Suzette shrugged, then said thoughtfully, “I suppose so.” She pressed the unlock button.
Scott directed her to the Crossroads Restaurant. They found a place to park in the back. Once they were seated in a small corner booth behind the kitchen door, that just happened to be away from any other table, Suzette said, “Okay, Mr. Scott, what is it you want to talk to me about?”
He looked apologetic. “Well, first, I’d like to apologize for my part in the late fiasco. It certainly didn’t go the way I expected it to.”
“Why?” Suzette wasn’t about to cut him any slack. She had been treated rudely or worse and her temper was hot.
“When we all talked together before you came in, we had decided to cooperate with you.
To lay our cards on the table so to speak. Even Sheriff Miner was willing to cooperate, then he
got a phone call. I don’t know what was said but when he hung up, he was really angry. You got
the brunt of that anger.”
“Did the phone call concern the case?”
“I don’t know. You arrived less than five minutes later. The other guys are still up arguing with Miner, but I don’t think they’re going to get anywhere with him.”
“That’s really curious. I wish I’d had a chance to give him John Marshall’s telephone number as a reference. I worked with John on a case in Las Vegas.”
“Who’s this Marshall?” His voice was mild for such a big man.
“Lieutenant John Marshall is a homicide investigator for the LVPD. Do you want to check out my references?”
“Actually, I would.” He paused while the waiter put down two glasses of water and handed them the menus.
Suzette pulled out her cell phone and hit a button on her speed dial. “Be my guest.”
“Are you ready to order?” The waiter was a tall, heavyset blond woman who walked like her feet hurt her.
Suzette looked helplessly at the menu. “It all looks wonderful, but what I’d really like is a big chef’s salad made with shrimp instead of chicken and homemade Ranch Dressing and some Texas Toast.”
“We can do that. What would you like, sir?”
It was obvious that the phone call had just gone through as the waitress asked her question. Then it was just as obvious that he had been put on hold. “I’ll have the fish plate, with a baked potato and sourdough bread.”
“I’ll be right back with your orders,” she said as she turned away.
“Lieutenant Marshall, I am Deputy Mitch Scott. I’m with the United States Marshall’s office. I’m sitting here with Suzette Bishop and I was wondering what you could tell me about her.”
There was a pause, then Mitch held the phone out to her. “He wants you to identify yourself before he gives me any information.”
Suzette laughed. “Hi, John. How did you survive your confrontation with the hostage situation in the convenience store?” She listened for a moment then handed the phone back. “He knows it’s really me.”
Suzette leaned back as the waitress placed a huge platter of salad in front of her. Then she set what looked like a small table loaded with different types of fish in front of Mitch.
When he had finished his conversation and had started eating, he said, “Lieutenant Marshall has some really complimentary things to say about you. He was telling me about the case you worked on together.”
“He was great to work with. We had some problems with his boss but he finally got it worked out.” She looked at him. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”
He reached in his pocket and pulled out his I.D., flipping it open. After she had examined it, he returned it to his pocket.
“Sheriff Miner didn’t really introduce any of you. He just lost his temper.”
“I’m a U.S. Marshall but I’m not from around here. I work out of the New Hampshire office. I’m on loan to the FBI here and undercover so if you need me, don’t call the Florida office because they will have never heard of me. I couldn’t tell him much about me, just that I was from the justice department.”
“So why would the FBI send an agent from New Hampshire to a small city in eastern Florida?”
“Two reasons: the first is that there are some very odd criminal activities going on down here and second, there is a mole in the Florida office which is why I’m undercover.”
“What kind of criminal activities and where are they centered?”
“The higher-ups in the Bureau think that one of the human trafficking rings is operating out of Cocoa Beach. I don’t know if you’ve read much about these rings. The Reader’s Digest has had a number of articles on them lately. I’m supposed to find the ring and break it–getting as many records as possible so that we can recover the women.”
“I see. What were those other men there for?”
“Drug smuggling, illegal aliens, you name it, it seems to be going on here. We don’t know if there is one very ambitious crime ring or if there are several smaller rings. So far there haven’t been any gang wars so we’re not r
eally sure.”
“What do you think?”
“From my experience, I’d say it’s one big ring. Small gangs are always jockeying for position. That’s how we find out about them. There hasn’t been anything like that around Cocoa Beach. In fact, according to Sheriff Miner the crime rate in the Cocoa Beach area has decreased.”
“Then how do you know?”
”That there’s a crime ring? We got a tip from a reliable informant who later was found floating in Indian River.”
“Okay, so where do I come in?” Suzette wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he wanted her to do.
“Our information is that the ring is being run from The Palms.” His voice was blunt.
“Cordelia’s house? I can’t believe that.” Suzette exclaimed. “She is the kindest woman. In fact, she’s much too kind. Her family treats her like doormat “
Before Mitch could continue, she added, “Maybe I can, but I can’t believe that Cordelia has anything to do with it.” She paused while she chewed her salad, then said, “So what do you want with me?”
“I want you to work with us on this case. You’re living in the house. You have legitimate business that you are working on. Everyone knows you are being paid to look into the fire and the murder.”
“Well, not really. They think I am a friend of Jeremy Stewart’s whom he sent down to help his aunt deal with her multiple insurance problems.” She paused, “It was murder, not an accident?”
“Mrs. Stewart wasn’t killed by the fire. Someone slipped a long, thin, very sharp two-edged knife between her ribs. From the slant of the wound, the coroner thinks the person who stabbed her was somewhat taller than she was. He didn’t think she had been sitting or kneeling. Also, her nightgown was torn in the back. It could have been grabbed as she ran from her pursuer.
“What kind of knife was used?”
“We don’t know for sure. It hasn’t been found. From the description of the wound, I suspect that it was some type of knife that had been made particularly for that kind of work.”
Sun, Sand and Murder: A Suzette Bishop Mystery (Suzette Bishop Mysteries Book 3) Page 7