by DiAnn Mills
Max turned to Tori. “Send a request to the FIG. See if Anita Krantz has any relatives employed on that rig or any of Moore’s holdings. She was previously married too. We want names, employment, and whereabouts of the ex.”
Cole interrupted. “We have a list of men with criminal records working at the drill site, and they’ve been cleared. But what about a list of those who weren’t working during the bombing? Add men who had problems with other employees. And former military.”
“Know what?” Max said. “Yardman’s gonna help us pull the weeds out of this case.”
Cole, along with Tori and Max, entered the executive suite Nathan had shared with Anita Krantz on the fifth floor of Moore Oil & Gas. Ultramodern, chrome, glass, gray marble—similar to his home. Framed quotes of John D. Rockefeller occupied one wall. Floor-to-ceiling glass revealed all the happenings in the suite. Two white leather chairs and a matching sofa.
Cole remembered what Nathan had said about the design. “The glass walls derail any gossip about me and my executive assistant being alone behind closed doors. No one will ever accuse me of conducting myself in an inappropriate manner.”
Nathan, you lied to me and how many others? If the man were alive, Cole might punch him.
The downhill revelation about Nathan’s character further deepened Cole’s agitation. The who, why, and a suspicion about Anita Krantz kept him focused.
Anita rose from behind her glass-topped desk and greeted them. Poised, professional, and pale. The three Ps didn’t quite fit under the label of “innocent.” A short red skirt and four-inch heels added fuel to what she’d done.
“Good morning, Ms. Krantz,” Cole said. “I’d like to introduce you to Special Agent Max Dublin. The three of us are working the Moore case together.”
She glanced at Max, her gaze turning to scrutiny. “FBI agents arrived about thirty minutes ago with a court order to view business files and devices.” Little emotion passed over her smooth face, much like last night, except for sympathy-driven dynamics. She continued. “Your people have a big job sorting through personnel, financials, and various records. This won’t be a small project. But I understand it’s necessary to bring the killer to justice.”
“We can handle the details.”
“I’d like to talk to those agents, Ms. Krantz. I have my own agenda,” Max said. “Could you point me in their direction?”
“I can show you where they’re working.”
Max lifted a brow at Tori and Cole. “I want to see who’s running the show with Moore out of the picture.”
“We have the list of executives,” Tori said. “I’ll accompany you.”
“No thanks. I’m good.”
From the look on Max’s face, Cole suspected he was going off the grid. The executives would not put up with any resemblance of his interrogation tactics from yesterday.
“I’ll be back when I’m finished,” Max said. “Interviewing Ms. Krantz will skyrocket my blood pressure.”
Anita whirled into his path. “Then you’re too old for the job.” She shifted and led the way down the hall.
Cole watched the pair disappear. The woman’s moods were like a light switch.
Tori made her way to a credenza, where photos of the Moore family spread the six-foot length of the piece. “The last time I was here, Sally and I stopped in after having lunch. Anita and Nathan were in a meeting where everyone could see.”
“My last visit was three days ago.” Cole glanced around, then back to her. “What’s your impression of Krantz this morning?”
“Calculated and emotional. I’m sure she’s interested in finding out what’s in her boss’s files and if anything implicates her.”
“That will take a while. I have a hunch,” he said.
Her green eyes questioned him. “What?”
Krantz returned from escorting Max before he could respond. She clutched her stomach. Last night, when she exhibited the gesture, he’d thought the emotional conversation had made her physically ill. What else did she hide or fear?
“We’d like to see Nathan’s office,” Cole said. “Is it locked?”
“I opened it, his desk, credenza, and closet when the other agents arrived. Nathan kept few items in paper form in his office. Agents are searching through those in another area. I’ll show you inside.”
“I’ve been here before.” Tori walked to a closed door behind Anita’s desk, opened it, and stepped inside.
Cole joined her, and they each slipped on a pair of gloves. Later on a team would sweep the office and image his computers. He pulled open desk drawers while Tori searched the credenza.
“Everything looks in order.” She opened the closet. “Nathan was OCD when it came to organization.”
“His locker at the club had things labeled.” He stood. “If he were to hide something, it wouldn’t be here where anyone could find it. If he had an idea who wanted him dead, then why not tell his attorney?”
Tori pointed to another door. “Do you know about the bedroom?”
“No.”
“When the office building was constructed, Sally insisted Nathan have a bedroom there. Too many nights he didn’t arrive home until well after midnight. She fretted about his drive home. Worried about an accident. Then one night he was robbed in the parking garage of the old complex, and he gave in to adding the room. Sally chose the interior and picked out the furnishings.”
The affair with Anita . . . “I want to take a look.”
The door was locked, and Cole waited while Tori retrieved the key from Anita. The bedroom, a project designed by his wife, ensured the affair was easy for Nathan to manage.
A few moments later, Tori returned. “I saw the room right after Sally finished with the decorating. Forgot about it until we walked in.” She inserted the key and gestured for Cole to step inside.
A lamp on a nightstand lit the approximately fourteen-by-sixteen bedroom containing a king-size leather sleigh bed covered with a gray duvet. A bistro globe chandelier hung over it and a glass- and chrome-encased bar. The bathroom had a similar design.
Cole flipped on the overhead lighting, illuminating the probable rendezvous point. The floors were dark-cherry hardwood—Nathan’s favorite, as the upstairs of his home displayed.
“This makes me sick,” Tori said. “I wonder what else I can find.” She made her way to the bathroom while he scrutinized every corner of the room.
The closet door caught his attention, and he opened it. Instantly a light flashed on, revealing a man’s suit, jeans, and two shirts. He picked up a black garment bag and unzipped it. Red see-through lingerie that didn’t belong to Nathan.
“Tori, has Sally ever spent time with Nathan here?”
“I don’t think so,” she called from the bathroom. “Why?”
He heard her footsteps across the wooden floors. She stood in front of the closet and sighed. “Sally never wears red. Hates it. A conversation we need to have with Anita.”
A truckload of disgust hit him. Nathan, what were you thinking?
They made their way back to the outer office with the glass walls. Anita sat behind her desk, peering at the computer screen. She looked up and smiled through ultra-red lipstick. “Finished already?”
“We have a couple of questions for you,” he said.
Anita’s business line buzzed an incoming call. She raised her finger to stop his speaking and answered the phone.
“I’ll be back in a moment,” Tori said to him. “Don’t start without me.”
He nodded.
TORI ENTERED ANITA KRANTZ’S private ladies’ room to compose herself. Concern for Sally raged through her heart. Anita had admitted to an affair, but seeing the evidence shook her. For a moment she questioned her ability to perform her responsibilities as a violent crime investigator. Her training supposedly prepared her for job hiccups and disconcerting information.
Max had been right. Working a case where she had personal stakes might spell disaster for the investigation and her c
areer. Her emotions circled in the winds of contempt and disbelief. Especially when she’d cared for Nathan, a man she’d believed held the trophy for husband and father of the year. When Kevin died, Nathan had lingered at the funeral home, stood by her, and encouraged her healing. Although he wasn’t a Christian, Nathan had urged her to seek Kevin’s God.
She studied the brown-and-tan Italian tile and the rubbed bronze chandelier with its amber glow of light. Leaning against a variegated stone wall in light-earth tones, she laced her fingers at her waist and stared into the mirror. With the length of time she’d been gone, Cole would think she was ill.
Tori Templeton, friend to Sally Moore and a special agent. She viewed herself in multiple roles, but the one most important was to get to the bottom of the murder and bombing. Putting aside those things she wished she didn’t know, one fact remained: Nathan had a double standard of ethics. Unlike him, Tori knew truth always trumped personal gain.
She took refuge against the wall with her hands behind her and breathed in and out. You can do this, Tori. Her fingertips touched something that gave way, and she turned to examine the small object further. It was painted the same color as the brown tile. She pressed it, and a panel door slid back into the wall leading to Nathan’s bedroom. Seamless in the wall. No one would have detected a hidden doorway.
Her contempt for Nathan and Anita mounted like plaque on unbrushed teeth. Nothing but decay and holes.
But job commitment came first, and she texted Cole and Max.
I’ve found an entrance to Nathan’s office bedroom from Anita’s bathroom. Join me. Bring her with u.
Within moments, the shuffling of feet met her ears. “Come on in.” She turned to see Max with Cole and Anita behind him.
Max stepped into the bedroom. “Ms. Krantz, you and Moore sure knew how to throw a party.”
The crass remark caused Tori to hurl him a dangerous glare. She started to give him her sentiments, but what good would it do to lose her temper? Sally’s betrayal had taken place here . . . many times. The secret entrance to Nathan’s bedroom had sucker punched her. “The bedroom was not a secret, but I’d like Anita to explain the hidden entrance from her bathroom.”
The familiar hesitancy and the moistening of lips. “It is what it is.”
Tori focused on Cole. “Would you take her statement?”
Cole met Tori’s gaze with caring, and although she appreciated his concern, she grasped the reality of her job and held on tightly. She gave her attention to Max. “After Cole and I examined Nathan’s office, we discovered something else.” She moved to the bedroom closet and revealed the garment bag with the lingerie.
“Anita, is this yours?”
Her brows narrowed. “I’ve already confessed to an affair.”
How would Sally feel about Nathan using her suggestion as a lovers’ nest? Had Sally known what he’d done and arranged his death? Tori hoped not.
“Ms. Krantz,” Cole said, “I suggest we continue this discussion in the waiting area. I’d like to record it for future reference.”
“I’m not so sure that’s in my best interest.” Anita tapped her foot. “What else is there for me to say? Do you want dates, times?”
If Anita lawyered up, her statement would be on hold.
Cole stepped forward. “I understand the stress with Nathan’s death and what it means to you personally and to the company. We can talk in the waiting area, where it’s comfortable.”
Anita appeared to debate her decision, then followed him out of the room.
Tori watched them leave. She’d liked Anita at one time. “I’m going to request our team question the staff about the affair. Discreetly.”
“Tori.” Max’s gentle tone caught her unaware. “Can you continue with this case?”
She well understood the implication of his question. “I have to or I’ll never be able to work violent crime again. I’ll be back as soon as I talk to the agents. One of my concerns is who else was privy to what went on here? I want answers now.”
“We all do.”
She drew in a cleansing breath. “Thanks, Max. I have a job to do.”
One where there’s no room for personal emotions.
Cole observed Anita seated across from him in a white leather chair. Pale. Trembling and holding her arm over her stomach. Tori and Max found their way to the sofa.
“I have a couple more questions,” he said.
“I’ll do my best with dates of when Nathan and I were together.”
“Good. Thank you. I understand there’s a medical clinic on the third floor staffed with a doctor and nurse.”
“Correct. It’s available for all employees.”
“Our court order doesn’t include medical records from the company’s clinic,” he said. “Did Nathan ever use the services here?”
“Not to my knowledge. I’m fairly certain he used his personal physician.”
“What about you?”
“Yes. It’s convenient not only for me, but for everyone under the Moore umbrella.”
“You use the clinic exclusively?”
She hesitated. “Why?”
“It occurred to me we should request a court order for those records.”
“Why, when Nathan didn’t use the clinic?”
“I mean you.”
She shivered, her shoulders narrowing. “You’re not making sense.”
Cole held her attention. Fear creased her smooth features. “I have two sisters, and I’ve been around them when they were pregnant. I noticed you hold your stomach when upsetting questions are raised. Today, as the three of us entered the office, you touched your stomach again. It could be a habit . . . or an unconscious means of protecting an unborn child.”
Her eyes widened. “Mr. Jeffers—”
“Ms. Krantz, are you pregnant?”
As though paralyzed, she stared at him.
“Ms. Krantz, are you pregnant with Nathan Moore’s child?”
“Yes.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Was he aware?”
She swallowed hard. “No. I found out three weeks ago. Couldn’t tell him. Neither the right words nor the timing.”
“Did you think he’d leave Sally for you?”
“His family meant too much to him. I was . . . convenient.” She brushed away a tear. “I was willing and lonely. That’s not an excuse. But the truth.”
“If you had no intentions of telling him, what were your plans?”
“To move home to Portland. My parents are there. Nothing’s changed. Never thought I’d be a mother. It’s a strange feeling. Overwhelming. But I’m making progress.” She shook her head. “This isn’t about me but who killed Nathan.”
“When were you going to inform Nathan of his child?”
“Never. He loved Sally, not me. How many ways must I explain it?”
“Ms. Krantz,” Cole said, “with this new information, you’ve just added fuel to the fire.”
The coolness returned, as though Anita turned her emotions from hot to cold with the blink of an eye. “I had nothing to do with the murder of Nathan Moore, the father of my child and a man I loved. There’s no evidence to arrest me.”
“You’re right,” Tori said. “But we’ll keep digging, and we’ll find out who killed Nathan.”
“My resignation is on my computer.”
“Did you compose the letter before or after he was murdered?”
“Before. My parents have been aware of my situation for two weeks. Nathan knew of my decision to resign but not the reason.”
“And he didn’t ask you to reconsider?”
Anita shook her head and reached for a tissue.
Cole analyzed the facade of the desperate woman before him. Who was the real victim here?
TORI FUMED and attempted to concentrate on Max, and Cole wrapped things up with Anita in the waiting area. The chief executive officers denied any knowledge of their esteemed owner having an affair. She hadn’t mentioned Krantz’s name. No need be
cause they’d find out soon enough. One trait Tori had seen in Nathan—he kept his distance from employees, no individual socializing outside of the office. Big events, like charity golf tournaments and a reserved box for Astros and Texans games, included the best of food and entertainment. But that was it. Repeatedly she’d heard him say the only friend he needed was Sally, the love of his life. Odd he’d formed an alliance with Cole.
Anita’s pregnancy shouldn’t have shaken her, but Nathan had requested Sally have her tubes tied because he was thrilled with the boys and felt their family was complete. Daughters-in-law and granddaughters would come later.
What a jerk.
Nathan might not have known about his unborn child, but he was cognizant of how his affair reflected on his marriage. Did he think he could keep it secret forever? An affair was traumatic, but a love child threatened to destroy his whole family.
Cole spoke to Anita, who sat with her long legs crossed and her skirt a bit high. “As you were informed previously, do not leave town. You are a critical witness in our ongoing investigation, and we may uncover some important evidence in the company’s records.”
“You will find nothing anywhere to implicate me in Nathan’s murder. I’m only guilty of loving him.” She arched her back. “Sally should have kept better tabs on him.”
The real Anita Krantz?
Max blew out steam. “The man is dead. You have motive. Have a pleasant morning, Ms. Krantz.”
Cole, Max, and Tori made their way to the elevator. Cole pushed the down arrow and they stood silently.
Max’s flushed face was an improvement over the colorless one earlier this morning. His attitude needed rehab. He spoke low. “The time spent here wasn’t a waste. That woman has reason to be afraid. The executives have greed dribbling from their pores, and we’re fools to believe they were ignorant of the affair. I’ve already requested backgrounds on the top six. The team is gathering other employee history, but I requested information about who was up for promotion, notes from meetings, and financials for all the staff. A big order, but everything helps. Who had the most to gain from his death besides Sally Moore and Anita Krantz?”