Stratagem

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Stratagem Page 6

by Robin Caroll


  Monique laughed. “Oh honey, I appreciate that. I do, but I know how my daughter was. There wasn’t anything you could’ve done. Anna Belle was always that way. Always going to see and do things exactly her way or no way at all. No one could ever make her see or think differently.”

  Grayson remained silent. What could he say? That Anna Belle had been self-centered, self-serving, and bordering on downright narcissism? All those were certainly true, but they hadn’t made him love her any less. Had Monique felt the same way?

  “I can see what you’re thinking, son. Anna Belle was who she was. She wouldn’t have changed for you, and certainly not for me. I gave her my best efforts until the day she left home. The good Lord knows I tried to get her to act right and be a better person. I tried. And tried. That girl would make the worst decision every single time, even when doing the right thing would’ve been easier. That just wasn’t her way.”

  That summed up Anna Belle perfectly, but it didn’t make accepting it after the fact any easier. Maybe it was even harder now that neither of them could ever help her. He considered her mother. “How did you reconcile yourself to that?” As soon as he asked the question, he regretted it. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.” Not to mention rude and thoughtless, considering what brought them together today.

  “Oh Grayson. Stop beating yourself up for not being able to change her into a better person. That wasn’t your job. Mine either.”

  “There were things she did … things I can’t even believe she did, but I know she did.” Things he hadn’t even known she’d done while they were married. Things that ripped apart his very spirit. Things he knew he’d have to find a way to forgive her for.

  “You’re a Christian, right?” Monique studied him from over her glasses.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Which made him want to squirm, considering what he’d just been thinking.

  “Then consider this: God is our Father and perfect in every way, right? He loves us and wants the best for us. Always does right by us, yes?”

  “Of course.” She had his attention.

  “Do you blame God for mass murders? Rapists? Child molesters?”

  What? “Of course not. Free will gave them the choice to follow God’s plan for their lives or to go their own way and sin.”

  She smiled. “Very true. So if God, the perfect Father, has disobedient children, why are we mere humans so arrogant to think that our children ought to behave as they should?”

  Grayson went very still. He’d never considered his marriage to Anna Belle in such a light before. He’d never considered Anna Belle in that way. He’d never thought about Anna Belle being disobedient to God the Father. He’d been too wrapped up in his own emotions to think about the eternal.

  Monique inched closer to him on the couch and rested the parchment-paper-thin skin of her hand on his. “I don’t mean to pry, Grayson, but did you break your vows to her?”

  “No. I wasn’t perfect, not by any stretch of the imagination, but I never broke my vows.” He’d been so tempted, but the pain she’d inflicted had left him raw. Too raw to reciprocate.

  “Did she break hers to you?”

  He nodded, slowly, not trusting himself to speak. Even now—especially now—it was hard to admit.

  “Then stop berating yourself now that she’s dead. Don’t turn her into a good person in your mind just because she’s no longer living.”

  The abruptness…

  She gently squeezed his hand before releasing it. “It’s the truth, and we both know it. I’m too old and too tired to pussyfoot around the facts. Or to sugarcoat reality.”

  He smiled, realizing he missed getting to know a really unique woman whom he would’ve probably grown to love, had he demanded the chance.

  “The hospital said they had clearance from the coroner to release the body. I’ll notify the funeral home in Breaux Bridge.”

  “Coroner’s office?”

  She nodded. “The hospital said they’d concluded the autopsy, and the coroner’s office had received all the reports they needed.”

  Of course the coroner’s office would receive all the autopsy reports, which they would have turned over to the police too. That had to be why they were treating this as a homicide.

  “Grayson, I know what the police always think about the ex-spouse.”

  His gut tightened, and he nodded.

  “The police have asked to see me tomorrow. They’ll be coming to the hotel at one to talk with me.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I promise you, Monique, I had nothing to do with her death.”

  She pushed to her feet. “Oh, I know that. Knew it the minute I saw your face. No one fakes the pain they’re trying so desperately to hide from everyone.”

  He stood and faced her.

  “And if they ask, I’ll tell them just that.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “I’m going to offer you a bit of advice, Grayson. Just an old lady who’s been around and seen a lot. Take it for what it’s worth.” She squeezed his forearm. “Allow yourself to grieve for her. No matter that you’re divorced, no matter what she did to you or what you did to her, let yourself grieve the loss of her.”

  “I … ah—”

  She tightened her hold on his arm. “You don’t have to say anything. Just take a day or two to feel the loss and accept it. You’ll need that, and later on you might not have the time or emotional energy. If you don’t, you’ll regret it. Mark my words.”

  Maybe she had a point. Grayson nodded.

  She smiled. “Look, I’m staying at the Darkwater Inn. Why don’t we have lunch on Wednesday before I head back to Breaux Bridge? Maybe there will be information about the case we can discuss.”

  “I’d like that.” He returned the smile as he led her to the front door.

  “You take care, Grayson.”

  “You too. I’ll call you tomorrow to set up a time for lunch.” He opened the front door.

  She smiled as she stepped over the threshold. “I’ll go see about the eulogy now.”

  He held her elbow, helping her down the steps. Better her than him having to call Laure, but he did wonder—what on earth would Laure say about him?

  More importantly, would Monique or anyone else believe her?

  SIX

  “The manufacturer of the energy drink confirmed there is no cherry juice in their mix.” Danielle tossed the fax onto Brandon’s desk. “Just as our lab reported.”

  “At least now we know for certain, from the source.” He hadn’t expected to learn anything different but needed to make sure all the i’s were dotted and t’s crossed.

  Danielle sat at her desk that pushed up against his, facing him. “Look, I might’ve been overzealous about the case. I want to do a good job, right by the book, play my cards right.”

  “That’s all I ask. I just want Grayson to get a fair shake, that’s all.”

  His partner shook her head. “It has nothing to do with him, and everything to do with working the case, following the trail of evidence.”

  Brandon crossed his arms over his chest. “Just so long that means not going out of your way to make sure he’s incriminated.”

  She frowned. “I would never go out of my way to incriminate anyone. I’m going to follow the evidence, no matter what rabbit trail I have to hop down.”

  That’s the best he could hope for at this point. “Then we’re on the same page.”

  Danielle hesitated, then handed him a folder. “I’ve asked Franklin Barron and Hugh Istre to come in. Franklin just arrived, and Hugh will come before lunch.”

  “Good. Do you want me to take lead on Franklin?” Brandon asked. Danielle had always seemed to prefer to do the observation rather than the actual interviewing.

  “Sure.”

  Interviewing witnesses was one of his specialties. He scanned the file, reading over Franklin Barron’s original statement. Seems that he and Anna Belle worked together on a PR campaign the day she died. Could be very interestin
g.

  Brandon stood. “Let’s not keep Mr. Barron waiting.”

  Danielle grinned and followed him down the hall and around the corner to the interrogation room.

  It felt right to be back on good terms with his partner. He smiled as he opened the door and extended his hand to the man sitting on the single side of the table. “Mr. Barron, thank you for coming in to speak with us on such short notice. We really appreciate it.”

  “Yes, sir.” Franklin Barron’s handshake was surprisingly firm.

  Brandon sat opposite Franklin, taking in his initial impression of the younger man, as well as what he already knew. He looked his age, twenty-seven, and while he wore the nerdy look, complete with black-rimmed glasses, that impression was deceptively contrasted by his scraggly and uneven beard and mustache.

  Shutting the folder, Brandon smiled at him. “Mr. Barron, why don’t you walk us through your Thursday?”

  “Sure.” Franklin nodded. No offer to call him by his first name. Meeting Brandon’s gaze head-on. Nerves weren’t bothering this one much at all. “The group all had breakfast in the dining room together at eight sharp.”

  “The group?” Brandon interrupted. Maybe he could make the man nervous. He liked having his suspects on edge.

  “Yes. Tim and his wife. Georgia and Anna Belle. Me and Hugh. We had to report to breakfast at eight on the dot.”

  “What would happen if you were late?”

  Franklin gave him a flat stare. “We would be eliminated from consideration for promotion to executive accounts director. Every instruction was to be followed to the letter.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Brandon leaned back from the table. “Sorry, please continue.”

  “After breakfast, everyone was dismissed to their rooms. We were told we would receive cards with our next instructions privately. I went to my room.”

  “Excuse my interruption, but please tell me what you were told about the weekend. What your boss told you in regard to what you were doing.”

  “Tim told me that there were four of us senior account reps who were up for the promotion to executive accounts director. Everyone wants that job. It’s prestigious and it comes with a healthy salary. He said he wanted to watch us work, independently and as a team, and we would be tested over a long weekend.”

  “I see.” Brandon glanced at the notes in the folder from their interview with Georgia. He looked back at Franklin. “What did you have to fill out or agree to before being considered?”

  Franklin gave a shrug. “A bunch of paperwork, and we had to sign a waiver of release to participate.”

  “What about granting access to your medical and financial records.”

  “Yeah. That was in there too.”

  “Okay. Sorry for the interruption. Please, continue.”

  “Anyway, I went to my room and found a card with a Mardi Gras mask. I was told to put on the mask and go to Anna Belle’s room and deliver her note to her right at nine forty. So I did.”

  What? “Wait, you were told to put on a mask and go to Anna Belle’s room?” New fact. He glanced over to his partner who raised her brows at him.

  “Yeah, and give her note to her.”

  “What did her note say?”

  “I didn’t know initially because it was sealed. So I put on the mask and headed to her room, right at nine forty, just like I was instructed.”

  “You wore the mask to her room?” How did these people just do things so blindly?

  “Yeah, that’s what my note said, so that’s what I did.”

  Brandon nodded, still flabbergasted that people would act before thinking things through or ask questions. “What happened?”

  “She opened the door and freaked out on me. Started hitting and kicking me like a wild woman.” Franklin shook his head and gave a little smile. “For such a tiny woman, man, she could throw a serious punch.” He pushed up the sleeve to his right arm and pointed to a small bruise. “She got me good there.”

  “Well, you did show up to her room wearing a mask,” Danielle said.

  “Yeah, but she went ape-crazy. Started yelling that she’d seen me the night before, sneaking around outside and in the hall outside her room. I reminded her that couldn’t be because she knew I was inside because everyone heard me holler when I found the snake in my bed.”

  “Wait. What?” A snake? Another new fact that was omitted from his initial statement.

  Franklin nodded, eyes wide. “Yeah, man. Wednesday night after we finally all went to our rooms, I found a snake in my bed.” He shivered. “I’m scared of snakes. Serious scared. Guess because I was bit by one as a kid, and ever since, I can’t stand them. Anyway, Hugh said it wasn’t poisonous. He grabbed it and took it outside.” He wore a sheepish grin and his cheeks tinted pink. “I didn’t sleep much that night, to be honest.”

  “I can imagine.” Danielle shook her head. “I’d be rattled for sure, pun intended. I don’t like snakes either.”

  “How did a snake get in your bed?” Brandon couldn’t fathom such a thing. He wasn’t terrified of them, but that would unnerve him.

  Franklin shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, after Tim told us we were all part of this elaborate game that would push our buttons, I guess I figured the snake had been part of that to get to me.”

  “Did anyone know about your past snakebite?”

  “Nah. It was in my medical records though.”

  If it was part of the game, Grayson’s company sure was thorough. And a little twisted. “Okay, sorry about getting you off track. So on Thursday, you told Anna Belle it couldn’t have been you she saw in the mask….”

  Franklin nodded. “Yeah. Right. She’d accused me of wearing the mask outside and in the hallways on Wednesday night. I reminded her about the snake, so it hadn’t been me. She was pretty shaken up about it though.”

  “Where’s the mask now?”

  “I left it in her room, now that I think about it.” Franklin shook his head. “She was freaked, but then I calmed her down and gave her the note with our task. I guess I forgot about the mask on the desk when we left.”

  “What did the note say was your next task?”

  “For me and Anna Belle to report to the library.”

  Brandon waited a second, then when Franklin didn’t continue, pressed. “So you went to the library?”

  “Yeah. There we found out what we had to do. We were told to watch the video set up on the TV. It was about a popular politician and had some photos and information of him about to be caught up in a sexual discrimination scandal.”

  “Really?” Danielle asked.

  Franklin nodded. “Yeah, and I don’t think what we saw was manufactured in any way to be part of a game. I think it was real, and maybe that’s what all this game was really about—to deflect and make us think it was a game.”

  “What do you mean?” Interesting. Brandon definitely wanted to hear this out.

  “This politician is someone who could make a big difference with his plans. Already local supporters are talking about his possible presidential candidacy in coming years. He’s got quite a reputation of being honest and a family man, and the conservatives and a good many liberals really like him. But, and isn’t there always a but? Anyway, from what we saw on that video, there’s some compelling evidence of his sexual discrimination as well as lots of innuendo of possible sexual misconduct. If it got out, his political career would be over. No questions asked, he’d be done for.”

  Franklin stretched his legs out in front of him, clearly relaxed. “Our task was to come up with a spin—a PR campaign to keep the politician in a positive light. To spin what was on the video in a way to minimize reality while keeping him front and center on what his reputation is staked. We had two hours to come up with something. From what the note said, Georgia and Hugh would work together on the same thing, and whichever team produced the better PR campaign would win the contest. It would certainly help us in the consideration for promotion.”

  Brandon hat
ed to admit that he wished he knew who the politician was. “I’m assuming you and Anna Belle came up with such a campaign?”

  Franklin grinned and nodded, straightening in his chair. “We did, and it was kick a—uh, it was amazing, if I do say so myself. No way Georgia and Hugh could even think of coming close to what we came up with. We knocked it out of the park, and I think even Tim was impressed. He sure seemed excited when we pitched him the idea just before lunch. That’s kinda why I think this whole game concept was created as a cover for the actual reason we were all there: to come up with a campaign for the politician, but none of us would be aware of it.”

  “Why would your company do that?” Danielle asked.

  Brandon wondered the same thing.

  “Containment of course. Because this guy is powerful, and like I said, if this got out, it would wreck his entire career.”

  “But why go to such extremes?” Brandon asked.

  Franklin shook his head. “You guys have no clue how PR works. People will do anything to keep their secrets.”

  “Even putting snakes in beds?” Danielle seemed to be having as hard a time buying it all as Brandon.

  “Yep, even that.” Franklin shrugged. “But whatever.”

  Better just to let that one go. “Okay, so back to Thursday. You were pretty confident in your and Anna Belle’s campaign….”

  “Yeah. Ours was pretty awesome. I could tell Tim thought so too by the way he nodded all during our presentation.”

  “So you and Anna Belle won?”

  “We don’t know for sure. Tim was going to take it to the board of directors to see which campaign they liked better, but I think he was taking it right to the politician. That’s what I think.”

  He thought a little too highly of his capabilities, that’s what Brandon thought. “So did you have lunch as a group?”

  Franklin nodded. “We all ate, and then, about one, we were given our cards with our next task. We all went to our rooms to open our cards privately, since they didn’t seem to be combined. Our next task was to go to a room and it would be like an escape room, and we would have to work together with someone else to figure out the clues of the room and escape.”

 

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