Shades of Deception

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Shades of Deception Page 19

by Charlie Hudson


  Bev’s stomach clutched. “Jesus,” she breathed. This was almost as creepy as the story about Catherine Sharpe’s mother and damn creepier than the case Kyle had worked on with the serial killer.

  Walt snapped back from his disturbing memory. “I’m not saying Vietnam was a picnic, but it was a war for Christ’s sake. That family — not anything I ever expected to see.” He lifted his coffee mug. “You’ve been through some serious shit, too. You know things can seem normal on the surface and be anything but when you peel away the layers. The short answer is, I stopped being surprised at what people are capable of a long time ago.”

  “I hear you,” Bev said to the man who had unflinchingly helped save her life when a situation had taken a deadly turn. Walt’s calm acceptance of the possibility of murder inflamed the spark of suspicion Nina had set. She touched her mug to his. “Thanks for everything.”

  Walt cocked his head. “You asked about Nina and I don’t particularly want to know why. As far as people you can depend on and hold in esteem, she’s right up there in my book. Hope I’ve helped.”

  Bev stood and smiled. “Oh yeah, see you soon.” She didn’t insult him by mentioning the conversation had indeed moved into confidentiality. He walked her to the door with a promise of a dive before the month was over.

  She cranked the car, her instincts revved. This would send Chief Taylor into a profane lecture about not leaving well enough alone. What the hell was she supposed to do though except at least probe the possibility? She didn’t want to stir up problems for Roger Lariby, but she hated coincidences. Deena Pierce’s death had been tragically understandable. The fact some people held Raney at least partially responsible wasn’t news. Gary Fitzhugh’s connection to her and his previous fight with Raney was. She hurried into their empty office when she arrived at the station and clicked onto the Scuba-Plus website staff directory. Gary Fitzhugh was older than he looked and damn, there it was. Prior to coming to the Keys, he’d been an instructor at a resort in the Dominican Republic. The “Dom Rep” that shared the island of Hispaniola with Haiti. If documentaries she’d seen were accurate about voodoo, zombies, and other island mysteries, there was no shortage of exotic poisons in the region.

  She’d already been through her notes and she closed her eyes to concentrate more clearly on the scene when she was on the boat. Gary, being solicitous at Crystal’s side, offering to take her home and he’d come in with her for the official statement. No one had given a second thought about a more experienced, concerned co-worker helping the girl. On the other hand, if he was the one who created the situation, he might have felt an extra obligation to her. Had he been sitting there, confident in no one even considering a dark possibility? Why shouldn’t he? How much could she learn if she poked around quietly? It was past quitting time. A nice meal with Kyle and drinks under the night sky was what they had planned. She could use his perspective. What she had to tell him wasn’t too much different than the strange case he’d encountered in Chicago and he’d admitted the guy might never have been caught since none of the deaths had seemed suspicious. She tapped in key words for Raney’s obituary. Shit, he had been cremated, his ashes taken by his family. Even if they were right, there was no body to be able to run more tests. She made a note to check with Doc Cooper to see if he had retained any of the organs or tissues. It had been an unusual death and she knew him well enough to suspect he would have made an exception to ordinary procedures.

  Bev had wrestled with telling Roger Lariby about the suspicions being raised and Les agreed it was too soon to bring the matter up to Chief Taylor. Re-opening a closed case was high on his list of things you’d better be damned sure of before expending more than about five minutes of resources. It wasn’t Bev doubted Nina’s perception. Being pissed at someone and quite frankly even being glad the someone was dead was a hell of a long way from premeditated murder. A heated argument could spin out of control which was why the charge of second degree murder existed. The scenario Nina and Walt described was cold-blooded, although if it did happen, revenge was a classic motive. Maybe there was also a degree of Fitzhugh believing he was potentially saving other women. The flip side of the coin was Nina’s imagination, indeed, being over-active and grasping for an understandable reason for Raney’s death.

  Interestingly, she’d been correct about Doc Cooper. He had talked with the parents and retained some of the organs. Despite what he’d said officially, he agreed the case perplexed him and he intended to do future research at some point. Bev guardedly acknowledged there might be new information. With that potential hurdle cleared, she checked the report from the day Raney died and Laurie Wright had been working. Bev called Nina and took her word that Wright would be discrete if she wanted to interview her. She said she was running one of the afternoon charters for Scuba-Plus and suggested Bev come by the shop at closing time. She would introduce the two women and either stay or go depending on Bev’s preference.

  As often happened, there were two lingering customers and Nina flagged Bev to step out back with her until Wright was alone. She was in aqua colors today, sunglasses dangling at her side. She motioned toward the storage building. “I’m almost done with the boat and Laurie will be finished as soon as those two leave. All I’ve told her is you’re following up on a couple of things and you’re easy to talk to. Unless you need me, I won’t stay. I don’t have anything important planned for the next hour or so if you change your mind.”

  “Works for me,” Bev said. She doubted Nina’s talents included subtle interview techniques and she’d decided on an oblique approach with Wright.

  Wright opened the sliding door enough to poke her head and torso through. “All clear for whoever is coming in.”

  Physically she was almost the opposite of Nina. She might make five foot four inches if she stretched and her black hair was pulled into a loose braid that reached below her shoulders. Her brown eyes and dusky skin could be from multiple ancestries, her round face giving a bit of a doll-like appearance. Bev would have thought not too many dolls sported tattoos on both ankles, calves, upper arms and who knew where else, but these days maybe there was.

  Wright pointed to the book alcove with two rattan armchairs. “You don’t mind if we sit? I’ve been on my feet all day. Oh, is it okay for me to have a beer and do you want one?”

  “Sitting and beer are fine, I’m good for now, thanks,” Bev said, holding an involuntary smile in. She took the chair with her back against the wall. Wright had zipped a hot pink Scuba-Plus koozie around her bottle and she looked inquisitively at Bev. She sat forward in the chair, her sandaled feet displaying alternating colors of green and blue on her toenails.

  “You were the one in charge the day of Matt’s accident, right? I talked with the guy cop and gave him the printout of everyone who was on board. Is something new going on?”

  Bev didn’t have her notebook out. She wanted to interact in an, it’s just us girls — you can tell me, mode. She had an excellent short-term memory and would transcribe the conversation later. “Little things we have to track down always seem to pop up,” she said without inflection. “You’ve been with Scuba-Plus for a while haven’t you, and know pretty much everyone?”

  “Oh sure. Do you dive by the way?”

  “With Adventures Below,” Bev said. “We started with them.”

  “They’re a good outfit.” Wright said. “Then you already know there’s quite a bit of turnover in the business. I’ve been here longer than most because this is a salaried position with at least some benefits. That’s the advantage of working for Roger and Leslie. Almost a third of us have regular schedules. The others are part time or independent contractors.” She held the bottle halfway to her lips. “Even though the dive shop operation doesn’t cross over much with the retail side, the staff isn’t so huge you don’t know everyone.”

  “Matt was primarily retail, wasn’t he?”

  Wright nodded as she dran
k. “He was terrific in sales.” She looked directly into Bev’s eyes. “His being a dick was never seen by customers. I’m not a believer in the, ‘don’t speak ill of the dead,’ bullshit if you want me to be blunt.”

  “Blunt is good,” Bev said carefully. Was Wright insightful or a gossip?

  “Here’s the thing. I’m conflicted about Matt. He was who he was as they say. Not my type although I could see the attraction. Julio was the only guy here I’d say who actually liked him. I suspect that was more in awe of because Julio is a wannabe player. Generally, everyone else didn’t let him get to them. Gary was the one who actively despised him, but they were hardly ever in the same place at the same time so it was manageable. I assume Nina told you about their history together?” Wright waggled her beer bottle. “I don’t need an answer. Getting back to my personal feeling of conflict about Matt. Deena Pierce was a friend and when I heard what happened, I was initially pissed at Matt.”

  Bev kept her voice neutral. “Initially?”

  Wright rested the bottle on her leg. “Yeah. He wasn’t into the easy letdown kind of breaking up. Deena didn’t have her head straight about him though. We’d been friends for maybe a year — met paddle boarding. I tried to gently warn her about him and didn’t want to ruin the friendship so I let it drop. You know what I mean?”

  Bev nodded.

  “Anyway, Deena came up with this lame idea of luring Matt to her place to convince him he’d made a mistake in dumping her. I don’t know if she tried to pull it off or not. It sure as hell didn’t help when Crystal fed her some kind of bullshit about he was still interested in her. I’m figuring she got her hopes way up and when it crashed down as it was bound to, she let it get out of hand. If you look at it objectively, you can’t genuinely blame Matt.”

  Had Bev heard correctly? “Crystal? Crystal Sharpe?”

  Wright grimaced. “Yeah, how’s that for coincidence? The only reason I know this is because I called Deena to see if she wanted to meet up for drinks the night she…, that night. She told me no, she had something else going. Then she said something like, ‘Hey, by the way, it looks like you were wrong about Matt. A girl who works with him overheard him talking about me and it was all good. I told you it wasn’t over.’ A couple of real airheads work the retail side and I asked her who it was. She told me it was a Chris except we don’t have a Chris. I assumed it was Crystal because she and Matt do work together. I couldn’t imagine why Crystal had been talking to Deena in the first place or what she thought she heard and passed on. I’m sure she picked up on the same rumors as everyone else about Deena going on the bender because of Matt and I figured she might have felt like a real shit for encouraging her. Not to mention my impression had been she had a thing for Matt herself.” She shook her head. “Anyway, who would have imagined all the craziness with Matt and then her mother. That’s sort of a what-the-fuck situation, isn’t it?”

  “A hell of a thing,” Bev agreed, trying to steer Wright back to the statement about Gary despising Raney. “Do you remember anything unusual about the day with Matt? It could be something small you haven’t given any thought to.”

  Wright set the bottle on the small table between the chairs, pressed her palms lightly together and held them under her chin. She cast her eyes down and Bev waited quietly for nearly a minute.

  “Matt wasn’t like some of the staff who went diving every chance they got,” she said, her gaze not full on Bev. “I remember thinking it was too bad he picked a day when Gary was mate because I assumed things were worse between them than before with Deena’s death. I mean, how could it not have been? Was there anything else? Crystal had been helping fill tanks for a few days. She didn’t do that often, but I wouldn’t call it unusual.” Wright dropped her hands to her lap, tapping her fingers together. “Hmm, tanks, tanks…, what was it?” She looked up. “Matt breezed through in here with only about ten minutes before departure. Everyone knew if he was diving for fun, he never arrived until right before roll call because it kept him from pitching in with hauling stuff to the boat. I was cashing out a customer and he said he would take the manifest to the boat for me. I said something like conditions were good for being on the Spiegel and he made a comment about him and Crystal doing a pony bottle drill — she was thinking of working toward dive master. It struck me at the time because that would explain why she was helping us more and I wondered if she was thinking about swapping from retail to operations. With everything that happened, I forgot about it. Quite frankly, under the circumstances, if she was considering the swap, she probably won’t now. Well, I suppose with everything she’s been through lately, none of this is important to her.” Wright flicked her eyes to the resting bottle before looking at Bev. “Matt’s death was a shock of course. If whatever fates do make these decisions and it absolutely had to happen to someone here, I can’t say I’m sorry it was him. Does that sound totally shitty?”

  “I’ve heard worse,” Bev said and passed a business card to Wright. “I appreciate you talking to me. If anything does come to mind, give me call.” She refrained from saying “anything else.” With as much as Wright told her, she needed to see it on paper to lay it out. It was a short drive home and Kyle wasn’t due for nearly an hour. Wright’s information had done nothing to bolster Nina’s suspicions about Fitzhugh, although she had confirmed bad blood between him and Raney. But the insertion about Crystal had been the surprise — especially as it related to Pierce. Maybe it was nothing more than an oddity.

  She went directly to the refrigerator for a beer when she went into the house, then sat at the kitchen table to enter her notes on her laptop. She typed rapidly, compartmentalizing questions rather than allowing them to take full form. She hoped to hell Wright was as observant as she seemed and not someone prone to embellishment. She almost let her beer get warm while she captured the conversation. She did a couple of neck rolls before relaxing into reading posture and taking a long swallow. The tidbits about Crystal and Pierce overlapped her intention to focus on Fitzhugh. Wright might have misunderstood Pierce and drawn a wrong conclusion in thinking Crystal was involved.

  “I couldn’t imagine why Crystal had been talking to Deena in the first place or what she thought she heard and passed on. I’m sure she picked up on the same rumors as everyone else about Deena going on the bender because of Matt and I figured she might have felt like a real shit for encouraging her. Not to mention my impression had been she had a thing for Matt herself.”

  Bev homed in on the question, or what was now two questions. Had Crystal talked with Pierce about Raney? If she had, did it mean anything?

  “Where were the tissues?”

  “What tissues?”

  In looking back through her original notes Bev had mentioned there were no tissues on the table at Pierce’s — something almost every woman would have had if in a depressed state over a man.

  Les hadn’t picked up on it because, well, because he was a guy. He’d dismissed her question as irrelevant. Bev hadn’t given it more thought either at the time considering the situation did appear to be tragically self-explanatory.

  Had Pierce sat down with a pitcher of margaritas and shots of tequila by herself? Had she intended to lure Raney to her place to join her? Margaritas went down smoothly. She drank the first one waiting for him to answer her text. A second was easy and it went downhill from there? But, the texts had become increasingly emotional. There wouldn’t have been any tears?

  Shit, two questions were multiplying. How often had Bev agreed that the principle of Occam’s Razor applied to investigations? “The simplest answer was usually the correct one.” Unless another simple answer was overlooked. In the same way of rotating puzzle pieces to see them from a different angle, Bev shifted the scene at Pierce’s house. What if she hadn’t been alone? What if someone who claimed to have information about Raney had been there? Maybe it had been an encouraging session instead of Pierce being angry or despondent a
nd the drinks were just social. Except there had been no sign of a second person. If Pierce had passed out and couldn’t be roused and the individual drinking with her was underage, the inclination to panic would have been strong. It wouldn’t have taken much to clean up. That, however, didn’t explain the texts. Unless the texts hadn’t been desperation. What if they had been more like stupid advice? “Come on, send him another one and let him know you really, really care. You put a bunch together and he can’t ignore you.”

  Why? Wright was correct. Why would Crystal go to Pierce if she had? She’s a kid who wants to be viewed as being older, so she intervenes like in some chick flick? Mature for her age was a frequent description and something like this might appeal to her. Then when things went wrong, she had enough presence of mind to get the hell out. It wasn’t outrageous.Unless…

  What was it Raney said during their interview about deleting Pierce’s texts? She clicked through her notes. I figured Deena would wake up with a hell of a hangover, feel stupid for sending all those texts, and that would be it. If I didn’t answer, she’d get the message.

  Jesus. Could it have been a set-up? Crystal encouraging Pierce for exactly the opposite reason? Making a fool of herself to guarantee no reconciliation with Raney? Bev drank the rest of her beer, imagining the Chief’s reaction. Shit. It wasn’t enough she was poking around in the closed case of Raney? Now she was stirring up the situation with Pierce? If Crystal had been that manipulative, it wasn’t illegal, was it? What if Pierce had gotten medical help though instead of being left alone? Would it have made a difference? If so, wouldn’t Crystal have at least some degree of responsibility? How was she going to find out if there was a connection between them?

 

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