Book Read Free

The Last Lie She Told (Lies and Misdirection Book 1)

Page 17

by K. J. McGillick


  I thought about it and had to agree. We all walked back to his door and knocked. Hightower opened the door, and when he saw Belle, he smiled broadly.

  “Detective! Please join us,” he said, welcoming us in.

  Mary and I went back to our seats, but Belle remained standing.

  “Please, Detective, have a seat.” Hightower offered a seat next to him.

  This man was working my last nerve.

  “Detective Hughes has uncovered information we need to share with you that may or may not have anything to do with the drive. It’s about an associate of Fiona’s, and he has some precarious ties to Fire and Ice. We have him on video surveillance around Mahir’s home—”

  “Mahir?” he interrupted.

  “Yes, Mahir, the young man Fiona accused of assaulting her here in LA and who was recently murdered in New York,” I said.

  “Continue,” he said, with a rolling-hand gesture.

  What a pompous ass.

  “The camera at Mahir’s parents’ home caught this man in town at the same time Fiona was in New York, shortly before Mahir’s murder. So with her connection to him and the club, we need you to be alert if you recognize him,” Belle said.

  “I don’t understand; what does this have to do with me?” he asked, confused.

  “Probably nothing, but you’re going in our place, and Fiona has no idea we won’t be there. So if she has something planned for us, you need to be on guard,” I said.

  “OK, let me see what he looks like.”

  As Belle passed him the tablet, he asked his name, and she replied, “Jeremy Stamos.”

  I don’t know if his face or name caused the harsh reaction, but Benjamin dropped the tablet and visibly paled.

  Belle rushed to him. “Are you OK? Here, lean back,” she said.

  As quickly as he had spaced out, he regained his composure. “Sorry, must be the whiskey. Forgive me. I’m going to go splash some water on my face. Please excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

  As he left, we all exchanged glances but kept silent.

  He was gone long enough that Belle was just about to go check on him when he returned and took a seat.

  “Did you recognize him?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. But the way he fidgeted and averted his eyes said he was lying.

  Belle and I exchanged looks, and she continued. “He has a criminal history of violent crimes, so I wanted you to be aware.”

  “What kind of violent crimes?” he asked.

  “Aggravated battery and rape,” she said.

  He stood, walked over to the window, and looked out, lost in thought. He turned back and what he said got our full attention.

  “Fiona got me involved with him in a threesome, and all I’ll say was it did not turn out well.”

  “I don’t want to embarrass you, but was it violent?” Belle asked.

  He kept his eyes on hers and said, “Yes.”

  “OK, I’ve heard enough here,” I interrupted. “Once again, I’m going to say I think it’s not only a bad idea for you to go tonight, but now I also think it’s reckless based on what we know and what you just told us about your history with Jeremy.”

  He walked toward us at a quick pace and said, “Thank you all for your advice; I’ve got it from here.” And he left the room.

  With no reason to stay, we quickly left as well.

  “He’s determined to go, and there will be trouble tonight,” Mary said.

  “Lee, if you don’t want to stake the place out later, that’s fine. But I’m going, and Mary’s going with me,” Belle said.

  That brought an air punch from Mary.

  Shaking my head, and knowing this could turn into a total clusterfuck, I knew I’d be going.

  Annabelle

  “Hold up, guys. I just got a voicemail from Boston PD asking me to call. Lee, your room is closer; let’s go there,” I said. That’s odd that Boston would call me instead of David, I thought.

  Lee stopped as he read a text. “Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Hightower wants, no insists, we join him and his ‘date’ for dinner at seven thirty in the hotel restaurant to complete the plans. I’m going to go see him and put a stop to this,” he said as he took a few steps away from us.

  “No,” Mary said, touching his arm. “Lee, he’s the client, and he can ask us to do certain things. This dinner won’t make him change his mind. And I, for one, want to see who he’s chosen as his companion. Don’t forget, this could just be a party. These people may not have identified you, and everyone might be getting excited about nothing. If this woman’s expertise is BDSM, she’s probably been to parties like this before. She should be able to give us a heads-up on what a ‘normal’ party is like so if she gets a sense something isn’t right, she can make sure they leave.”

  “Just agree to dinner, Lee,” I said.

  I watched him struggle with the decision before he finally typed “OK.”

  “Mary, I know you’re technically my boss—” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

  “Nothing technical about it Lee, I am your boss,” she said with a broad smile.

  “Not helpful, Mary. I’ve got to be honest with you, I’m not sure I’m cut out for this line of work. It’s taking everything in me not to go back to that room and have it out with him. He’s arrogant, shady as hell, and has the morals of…well, I don’t know,” he said, looking at the ceiling and then back down again. “Plus, I’m worried that we’re setting Fiona up. He could really hurt her.”

  “Lee, Fiona’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself. We don’t even know if she’ll be at that party. I understand your frustration and your concern. When you do skip tracing you’re in control of the situation, but in this situation you’re being micromanaged. This was a bad job to be your first client-based job. The fact the man is definitely hiding something, and we don’t know what his agenda is with this girl makes it all the more confusing. I don’t know how this will end. But my gut? My gut says we need to buckle up because we’re heading into some bumpy territory. Will we crash and burn? Maybe. Something is definitely wrong here; I agree. I know this has been difficult for you, but I’m glad to have someone with your experience working with me. If I had someone green working with me on this case, I can’t bear to think what a mess I’d be in right now,” Mary said.

  He nodded and slipped the magnetic card in the slot of his hotel room door. It flashed red twice before it turned green. Some would take that as a sign.

  “This isn’t just about Benjamin’s personal agenda with Fiona. We need to keep on track. A biotechnology product was stolen, and it’s now up for auction. Every time science makes an advance for potential good, along comes the shadow of bad. For every good scientist and doctor out there like Jonas Salk trying to better our civilization, there’s also evil like Josef Mengele working another angle,” I said trying to soften his frustration.

  “I get your point, Belle. But, what if Hightower is a Josef Mengele, and we’re helping him to recapture a tool that can do more harm than good?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

  “Lee, you’re being a bit dramatic and letting your dislike of the man cloud your judgment,” Mary said. “I get why you’re suspicious of him. He even admitted to acquiring the tool under questionable circumstances. But hell, as far as we know, what he did may be common industry practice. I don’t have enough information about that, so I won’t be the judge. We were hired to find the drive; Fiona was a lead. I don’t think any of us believe she has the drive. Is there a chance we might be wrong? Yes. Should one of us be in Seattle checking on Ryan and close him out as a suspect? Without a doubt. But, we’re here in LA complying with our client’s directions. Let this play out tonight. Tomorrow, we tell Hightower we need to return to Seattle and talk to Ryan. Ryan’s still an employee, and under an obligation to cooperate.”

  “You know,” Lee said, “it bothers me that Hightower makes excuse a
fter excuse why we shouldn’t follow a trail that may lead us back to Ryan. Or explore the possibility of someone working with Dennis.”

  “You’re right to question why his focus remains on Fiona, and he hasn’t encouraged us to expand the field of suspects,” Mary said. “What are you thinking?”

  “What if Hightower had Ryan or Dennis steal the drive for him so he could sell it for an obscene amount of money on the dark web? What if Dennis was his partner, and after Hightower took possession of the drive, he had Dennis killed to keep him quiet? And to cover his tracks he sent us on a wild goose chase?” Lee said, pacing as his speech picked up.

  “Stop, just stop,” I said raising my voice to gain attention. “Everyone take a breath and refocus. The problem with this case is that there are three issues at play, and we don’t know if they’re interconnected. If the drive was stolen, and that’s a big ‘if’ because there’s no proof it was, that’s one piece. Next piece, why were three men who had a connection to Fiona murdered? And third, why is Hightower so desperate to get his hands on Fiona? I’m not buying the whole pregnancy thing. Yes, she may be or may have been pregnant, but come on; that’s not blackmail material. It seems like there’s something more—”

  “Maybe she has a tape of the threesome, and she’s using it as blackmail?” Mary said, as she started a pot of coffee.

  “I don’t see that happening. With today’s strict laws about revenge porn she wouldn’t take that chance,” I said, and Mary nodded.

  Lee rubbed his hands across the top of his head, mussing his hair in frustration. “The theories keep piling up. Normally, we start with motive and work around that angle. But here the motives are tangling us up. Here’s what I say. Go back to the beginning. Split this out. Are the murders of Mahir and Chuck relevant to the drive? More than likely not. If the murders are connected to Fiona, it’s personal and not part of our case. Does the murder of Dennis and drugging of Ryan have anything to do with the drive? Possibly. But what proof is there that Fiona had anything to do with what happened to either of them in that motel? None. We’ve uncovered nothing to suggest such a theory. So we,” he said, pointing between him and me, “need to divest ourselves from the murders and come back to the drive. We have two more days, and it’s gone. The drive has to be our priority.”

  “That’s a valid point. The murders will likely take weeks or even months to investigate. But retrieving the drive is time sensitive,” I said.

  “OK, so have we beat this dead horse to death?” Mary asked. “I’m pouring; who’s drinking?”

  “Pour me a cup while I call this guy in Boston back,” I said, standing to move to a quiet area so I wouldn’t interfere with their conversation.

  I heard Mary and Lee continue talking in the background and gestured for them to lower their voices.

  “Pinkerton,” the deep voice with an obvious Boston accent responded on the other end.

  “Hi, this is Detective Hughes from New York; you called?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I’ve been trying to get your partner, but someone said he was taking a few days’ emergency leave,” he said.

  Why hadn’t David said anything to me about an emergency leave when he’d forwarded the footage? “Can I help you with something?” I asked Pinkerton.

  “Your wig hairs and ours are a match,” he said.

  “Thank you. That’s good to know. If you can’t get David, maybe this is something you could leave on his voicemail?” I asked. It annoyed me to be taken from what I considered a more relevant conversation.

  “Hold your horses.” He chuckled. “You New Yorkers are always in such a hurry. This is news I wanted to deliver in person. Well, so to speak.”

  “Go on.” He had my interest now.

  “The hairs also matched a recent murder in Seattle,” he said, pausing for a moment. “Do you want me to send you the information for the lead detective on that case?”

  I took a moment to comprehend what he’d said. “Wait. Was the first name of the victim in Seattle Dennis?” I asked.

  Mary and Lee stopped talking and turned toward me.

  “Actually, yes. What are you? Psychic or something?”

  “Would you please email me your report, and Seattle’s? I’ll call them and set up a meeting.”

  “Sure,” he said, and I gave him my email address.

  “What was that about?” Lee asked when I hung up.

  “The hairs that were at the New York and Boston crime scenes also matched a scene in Seattle. Care to venture a guess on which crime scene?”

  “No freakin’ way. How did they discover that?” Lee asked.

  “As soon as I get the reports from them, we can look at all the details together. Looks like I’ll be flying up to Seattle with you after all,” I said and waggled my eyebrows.

  Lee smiled broadly and laughed.

  My phone dinged, notifying me I had an email. It was the reports. I forwarded it to Mary and Lee so we could discuss the findings. It seemed clear we were probably following a multi-state serial killer.

  “Man, this is wild,” Lee said after reading the report. “This might be your next best-selling novel, Belle.”

  “Something worth considering,” I said. And it was a thought worth more than just a consideration.

  “Thoughts?” I asked when Mary finished reading.

  “Someone is trying to set Fiona up, or Fiona is leaving a trail of reasonable doubt,” Mary replied.

  “My thoughts exactly,” I said. “I can understand the motive behind Mahir and Chuck’s murders. But Dennis’s murder…are we missing something? Did something bad happen between them?”

  Lee sat and threw his head back against the chair’s pillow top. “This means we need to ask Hightower if there was bad blood between Fiona and Dennis. Kill. Me. Now.”

  I put my hand in the air to stop any further ranting. “It’s my case. I’ll be talking to him.”

  I asked Lee for Hightower’s number. He answered on the first ring.

  “Detective Hughes, have you changed your mind?” he asked in a tone that bordered on flirtatious.

  “I’ve had a development in the murder cases, and I need to ask you a question,” I said keeping the tone professional.

  “Shoot,” he replied with almost a smile in his voice.

  “Did Fiona and Dennis share any history that might indicate bad blood between them?”

  “Define ‘bad blood,’” he said after a minute.

  “Did she report him for inappropriate behavior, or make any accusations against him?” I asked.

  “Why?” he asked, seemingly hesitant to answer.

  “It’s part of the ongoing investigation, so I can’t tell you specifics. But it is relevant to my case,” I replied.

  “Yes, there was a problem, and we reprimanded Dennis,” he said.

  “Did it cause her embarrassment?” I asked.

  “Well, she complained about it and wanted him fired. So yes, I would say so, but nothing further came of it,” he replied.

  “Thank you.”

  After I hung up, I turned to Lee and gave the response as I interpreted it. “Motive to kill? Not in my opinion.”

  “God, this is making me crazy,” he said, stretching his arms above his head. “What if Hightower is the killer’s next target? I really don’t think Hightower should go to this thing tonight.”

  “He may not have been Fiona’s target initially. If they were in cahoots, though, and she needed him, he was safe. Now the game has changed, so maybe she no longer needs him,” Mary said.

  “When you say it like that, and as the layers of Hightower are revealed little by little then it really isn’t so farfetched. Can we believe anything the man has said?” I asked.

  I looked to Lee for an answer, but his eyes were closed, and it looked like he was deep in thought.

  “God, I need a break and a nap before dinner. I slept like shit last night. I just need to recharge,” he said, and I nodded. “Belle, if you want to catch a nap with me, let�
��s hit the bed. I’m crashing.”

  Mary smiled, threw her hands up, and left.

  I got up before Lee and tried David’s number, which went to voicemail. I’d typically leave a message, but if he were in the middle of a crisis, the last thing he’d care about was the case.

  I scribbled a note and left it on my pillow for Lee to find, and I left to get ready for the dinner. Thank God for high-end boutiques in hotels, or I’d have nothing to wear tonight. The white halter dress with a sleek fit was perfect for the evening. It showed enough skin to be tempting yet pulled off a look of mystery. I was about to call Mary to check to see if she and Lee were ready to head down to the restaurant when I heard a knock at my door. Good, they’re here. One last spritz of subtle perfume, and I was ready. I picked up my purse and door key and opened the door with my best smile. The smile disappeared when I saw who stood on the other side.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded.

  “I might ask the same because you sure as hell aren’t dressed like that to run out for a burger,” he said, raking his eyes up and down me. “Are you going to invite me in?”

  “She most certainly is not,” I heard Lee say before I saw him walk right up to David, crowding him. Trying to intimidate him.

  I watched the men size each other up, and David was the first to speak.

  “I see how it is,” he said in a sarcastic tone that was meant to demean me.

  I’m sure David expected an explanation from me, but I was so appalled and angry it was more my wrath he was likely to receive.

  “You’re David, her partner. We met in passing in New York when we came to the station.” Mary stepped forward, extending her hand. He ignored it.

  “I remember,” he said, not taking his eyes from Lee but directing a question to me. “And why are you here?”

  “Working the case,” I replied.

  “Looks more like you’re socializing, not working,” he said, now turning to me.

  Lee stiffened, but this was my argument to handle. “We are, in fact, in the middle of something that necessitates a work dinner. I’m working the case, but I’m here on my own time. So, do I need to answer to you? No. Now I’ll meet you for breakfast in the morning and bring you up to speed on the new developments. But right now, we have an engagement we’re late for, so I need to leave.”

 

‹ Prev