“I see,” Al said. He observed Luke taking notes. “Did she ever mention anyone at work?”
Jace thought for a while. “Her assistant, Barrie, could be difficult, but Toni could handle it. She knew it came with the territory of being the boss. And there was that guy, the janitor, I think he asked her out a few times, but as far as I know there were no hard feelings when she told him it was never going to happen.”
“Jes’ to clarify, do ya’ mean Hector Delgado?” Al wanted to be sure there was no misunderstanding, and that they were talking about the same person.
“That’s the one,” Jace said.
Somehow, Al hadn’t pictured Hector as a mild-mannered janitor. But that was based on his knowledge about Hector’s involvement with Hispanic militant groups, which Jace would not be aware of.
He glanced over to make sure Luke had documented everything before moving on. “What about her stepfather, Ethan Doyle, did Toni ever mention him?”
Jace shook his head. “Not really. I don’t know much about Toni’s family other than that her parents were dead, her mother had an unhappy second marriage, and Toni was very close to Hillary. She didn’t like talking about her parents. I think it was upsetting for her, so I never pushed it. Toni introduced me to Hillary at a dinner at Canlis when Hillary was in Seattle a few months back. Do you know of it?”
“Yeah, I’ve met the Executive Chef, Gaspard Chastain,” Al said, without going into details. He’d investigated the chef as part of a recent murder case when a woman was found dead at the Waterfront Palace development in downtown Seattle. “My wife likes the food there, but it’s kinda’ high cotton fer me, if ya’ know what I mean. Too many knives and forks to think about.”
“That’s a good point,” Jace said, glancing at his watch. Looking back up at Al, his face was grave. “I’m really sorry. I have a meeting with the stars of the Good Lookin’ Cookin’ show regarding next week’s segment, so I’m going to have to wrap this up. Believe me, dealing with some of the show presenters is hard work. I should know, I dated one once. Never again, is all I can say about that.”
Al leaned in closer to Jace’s desk. “Who was that? The reason I ask is because that’s one of the lines of inquiry we’re pursuing. It’s possible a disgruntled ex of yers’ mighta’ been unhappy about ya’ dating Toni and decided to do something about it.”
“I don’t have many exes,” Jace said, “but the only one who might be crazy enough to do something like that is Sophia Waters, the presenter I was referring to. She’s on ‘Good Living in the Northwest’. It airs Monday mornings.”
Young-Beardy-Guy-In-The-Tight-Pants put his head around the door and Jace looked up and shook his head. “Tell them I’ll be a few more minutes, Chad. This is important.”
Turning back to Al, he continued. “Sophia and I dated before I met Toni. We had fun, and it was a new relationship, but when I discovered she was making plans for us to move in together, I backed off and told her it was too soon. We dated for a little while longer, but it fizzled out. When I told her that it was over between us, she went off the deep end. It didn’t stack up.”
“Whaddya’ mean?” Al said.
Jace sighed. “She said she was heartbroken and gave me a huge guilt trip. She sometimes engaged in the practice of self-harming. She’d intentionally cut her arm with a sharp knife. She claimed my calling off our relationship was another reason for her to cut herself. The thing is, apart from the obvious scars, I always allowed for the fact Sophia had psychological issues and was taking medication for them, because I’d seen several prescription bottles in her bathroom. Because of that, I was always careful to go easy on her. But in the end, I had to make the break. She contacted me again recently, and I told her I still wasn’t interested.”
Al considered what Jace had told him. An unhinged ex-girlfriend bent on vengeance was a juicy lead in the case. “Do ya’ know what kind of issues Sophia had, by any chance? Was there an underlyin’ cause to the pattern of self-harm?”
“I looked at the prescription bottles one time,” Jace said. “There was one for anxiety and another for depression. They were prescribed by her psychiatrist. I didn’t think much about it because so many people are taking drugs for those problems these days. The staff in here are popping them like M&Ms.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Al could see Luke writing a note.
Call Rob re shrink and Sophia’s drugs.
Al stood up and Luke followed his lead. “Jace, this has been a great help. Thanks for yer’ time and once again, condolences for yer’ loss. We’ll keep ya’ informed of any developments.”
“I’d appreciate it,” Jace said, walking them to the door.
On the way out, Al counted four men with long groomed beards and tattoos. He drew a line at tattoos, far too painful in his opinion, but the other, he could do.
“Tell me Luke,” he said as he strode down the hallway, “Ima considerin’ jumpin’ on the facial hair bandwagon. Seems like all them other sexy dudes already did.” He pouted and stroked his chin with two fingers in a downward direction. “Whaddya think?”
The expression on Luke’s face told him all he needed to know.
CHAPTER 15
After the meeting with Jace and on the way to drop off Luke at his downtown Seattle apartment, Al called Rob using the Bluetooth speaker in his car.
“Rob, need ya’ to get the skinny on Sophia Waters, an ex-girlfriend of Jace Carson’s. She’s got mental health issues and might just be unhinged enough to have done somethin’ to Toni.”
“Is that the television presenter?” Rob asked. “I’ve only seen her show a couple of times, but she comes across as nice. Easy on the eyes, too.”
“That’s the one,” Al said. He recalled that Cassie had watched the show, and she had told him Sophia came off as a bubbly girl-next-door type who sometimes fluffed her lines when reading the teleprompter. She got away with it by fluttering her eyelashes and giggling a lot.
“Apparently, she didn’t take it well when Jace broke up with her. See if ya’ can speak to the shrink who prescribed her medication. Her doc may have some insight on whether she’s capable of murder.”
“Will do. I’m glad you called when you did,” Rob went on, “because I just heard back from my source that the Hispanic militant group Hector belongs to is meeting in a couple of hours. Turns out Hector hasn’t attended in a while, but I’ve authorized my source to attend the meeting tonight and see what he can find out about him.”
Al came to a stop outside Luke’s apartment building, double-parked because there were no open curb spaces where he could park, and kept the engine running.
“What about Ethan Doyle?” Luke asked. “Any news on his whereabouts yet?”
They both heard Rob sigh. “He left Key West a while back, then the trail stops. He sold the house he lived in with his wife and seems to have disappeared into thin air. I’m starting to think Ethan Doyle might not be who he says he is.”
“Did ya’ check with all the agencies yer’ not supposed to be able to get information from, but ya’ always do?” Al asked with a chuckle.
“Yep,” Rob confirmed. “The Department of Motor Vehicles and the airplane, bus, and train manifests all turned up nothing. I’m working on tracking his cell phone using GPS to try and get a trace on him that way.
“Call me if you need anything,” Luke said, turning to Al and unfastening his seatbelt. “If not, see you both in the morning. Bye, Rob.”
“Thanks, both of ya’,” Al said, as Luke got out of the car. “Rob, Ima gonna end the call. Got one comin’ through from Chief Hewson. Bye.” The blast of a horn sounded from behind, and he muttered something under his breath and raised a hand in front of the driver’s mirror as an apology for blocking the traffic lane.
“Yo, Chief,” Al said, pulling away with a squeal of tires. “Whaddya’ got?”
*****
“Smells good,” Al said as he walked into the kitchen and over to where Cassie was standing by the sto
ve beside a colorful array of fajitas sizzling on a skillet. He kissed her on her cheek. “Where’s Hillary?”
Cassie smiled up at him. “She should be down in a moment. She was taking a nap and I went upstairs to wake her when you called to say you were just driving off the ferry. How did it go this afternoon?”
A bleary-eyed Hillary appeared and they both turned around. “Hi, Al.” She yawned. “Did you see Jace?”
“I did,” Al said, opening the refrigerator and taking out a chilled Mexican beer. “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner.”
Al brought them up to speed on the meeting with Jace, culminating in the news about Sophia Waters being a possible suspect. “I felt bad for Jace,” he said, “the guy’s clearly hurtin’. He was a pro about holdin’ it all together, but I could tell how upset he was. The fact that he never got an answer from Toni on his marriage proposal almost choked me up. I wasn’t sure whether to tell him about the note we found, so I kept quiet to be on the safe side.” He reached for a tortilla and smothered it with guacamole and sour cream before heaping on the fajitas.
“What do you mean?” Cassie watched him try to roll the tortilla. Sauce dripped out one end as he lifted it to his mouth. “You always overfill it.” She said as he took a big bite.
“I weren’t sure it was my place to say anythin’,” Al explained when he’d finished chewing. He wiped his chin with a napkin. “Also, I didn’t know if tellin’ him Toni’s answer woulda’ upset him more or been a comfort to him. Thought I’d leave it to Hillary to make the call on that one.”
“Thanks, Al,” Hillary said. “I have a feeling he’d like to know. I think it might bring him some relief. I’ll speak to him about it, although I’d prefer to do it in person. I have a lot of time for Jace. We only met once, but from what I could tell, he adored Toni.” She stared down at her plate and blinked away the tears from her eyes.
“It seems like the feeling was mutual,” Cassie said. “It’s so cruel the way Toni’s life has been cut short, and Jace’s has been ruined. If Sophia Waters is to blame, she’s got a lot to answer for. They should lock her up and throw away the key.”
“Let’s not jump to any conclusions jes’ yet.” Al turned to Red, who was patrolling around the table in search of scraps and fed him a couple of pieces of meat. “We still have several other people we gotta’ rule out first.”
“I wish you wouldn’t feed the dog at the dinner table,” Cassie said with a frown.
“Red really has a soft mouth,” Al said, still looking at Red. “Balto wouldn’t be so dainty with treats like that. Balto’s a friend’s dog,” he explained to Hillary with a sideways glance. “He’s a bundle of fun. Not as wise or sensible as ol’ Red here, but quite the character.”
“That reminds me, Al, get ready for a surprise in the next few days,” Cassie said with a wink.
“Aw, are DeeDee and Jake and Balto comin’ to see the twins?” Al’s face lit up.
“You’ll have to wait and see. I can’t say anything more. Just finish your dinner.”
Al stared at his wife, and knew it was useless trying to coerce her into divulging any more information. He’d have to try and wheedle it out of her later.
“I spoke to Chief Hewson on the way home,” he said. “They weren’t able to pick up anythin’ from the prints that were in the house or DNA. What he did say, though, is that the coroner has determined that Toni was shot by a .30 caliber bullet, probably from an antique gun called a Suicide Special. Them guns only took certain types of bullets. A police officer who’s a ballistics expert was at the coroner’s office on another matter and recognized it.”
He explained the term referred to cheap guns that were
commonplace in late 19th century America. Despite the fact that most cities did not allow the open carrying of weapons, almost everyone owned a gun, and many people carried them concealed. The average person couldn’t necessarily afford a Remington, Colt, or Smith & Wesson, so there was a thriving market for low cost pistols.
“Thing about them was,” Al went on, “they were poorly made of cheap metal and weren’t particularly safe to shoot when they were made way back when, let alone today. They had no safety features at all. Many of the Suicide Specials that are still around aren’t in very good condition. Even in the best of storage situations, some of ‘em can deteriorate even without bein’ handled. They’re not the sorta’ gun you wanna’ be messin’ with. It’s also a bizarre choice of murder weapon, ‘cuz it’s more likely to be a collector’s piece. Can’t imagine who’d want to even own one.”
Hillary was staring at him with wide eyes.
“Ain’t much about guns I don’t know, in case yer’ wonderin’,” he added.
Hillary started to speak. “My mother owned an antique gun. It had belonged to her great-grandfather, and Mom considered it to be a family heirloom. I remember she kept it locked up in a cabinet in the garage, because she didn’t want Toni or me to have access to it when we were growing up.”
Al straightened up in his seat. “Go on.”
“She also had bullets for it, and she told us that’s what made it so special, because the bullets were original to the gun. Kind of like the china soup tureen she’d inherited from her grandmother. She said it was very valuable because it had the original ladle in it.”
Al thought for a few moments. “Do ya’ know where the gun is, or what happened to it?”
“I haven’t seen it for years,” Hillary said. “When Mom married Ethan, they moved from my parents’ old house. Ethan said he didn’t want to be living with my father’s ghost. A lot of stuff went into storage.”
“Did yer’ mom have many valuable antiques like that, and what happened to ‘em when she died?”
Hillary shrugged. “She didn’t have many. Just a few. I can’t say for sure what they were worth, because Ethan held an estate sale and sold everything after Mom died. The gun might have been in it. Come to think of it,” she added, “he must have also sold the antique tureen, because I never saw that either. He pretty much cleaned out everything he could. I didn’t go to the sale because it would have been too painful for me to see our mother’s things being sold. Toni was living here on Bainbridge Island, so she wasn’t at it either.”
“Did Ethan give ya’ any of the proceeds from the sale?” Al asked.
“Are you kidding?” Hillary gave an emphatic shake of her head. “Toni and I never got anything when our mother died. Ethan got rid of everything, even the jewelry that wasn’t particularly valuable but had sentimental value to us.” She stared off into space, pain etched across her face. “After that, he said he was going into seclusion for a while. I know he took that time to sell the house, because I had clients looking to buy who asked me to arrange for them to view the property, and I referred them to another agent. I know it sounds snarky, but I’m sure he sold her house, held the estate sale, cleaned out her bank accounts, and moved away.”
Cassie spoke up. “When’s the last time you saw him?”
“At the funeral,” Hillary said, “so it’s been a few months.” She sniffed. “And I’m not in any hurry to ever see him again.”
“Rob’s been tryin’ to find him and hasn’t come up with anythin’ yet,” Al said. “He thinks he might be usin’ a different name.”
Hillary gasped. “Of course. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. At the wedding, Toni and I both signed the register as witnesses. I remember snickering when I found out that Ethan’s first name is actually George. In fact, I asked him about it, and he said he’s always been known as Ethan, even though it’s not on his birth certificate.”
Al eyed the remaining fajitas in the skillet Cassie had placed in the center of the table on a wooden board. “That explains a lot of things. If ya’ ladies are done, Ima gonna’ have one more tortilla and call Rob to let him know. Ethan’s explanation sounds like a load of hooey, if ya’ ask me.”
“Go ahead, honey,” Cassie said, and Hillary nodded. Cassie pushed the skillet t
owards Al.
“What else needs to be done tomorrow?” Hillary asked as she tried to stifle a yawn, not quite succeeding.
“Rob should have some info on Sophia’s shrink,” Al said between bites, “and he’ll either call the shrink or set up an appointment with ‘em. He’s got someone getting’ more info on Hector as well. I’d like to arrange to see Tyler Alexander if possible, and Ethan, or should I say George, Doyle is gonna’ find out we’re closin’ in on him.”
Cassie stood, and began to clear the dinner dishes.
“Let me help you,” Hillary said, jumping up from the table.
“Absolutely not,” Cassie said firmly. “You’ve got a busy day tomorrow, so you go on upstairs.”
Hillary smiled at her gratefully. “Thanks. Good night, you two.”
“Nite,” Al and Cassie said in unison, as Hillary went upstairs. A few seconds later, Red followed her up.
“Now then,” Al said, picking up his plate and taking it over to the dishwasher. “What was that you were sayin’ about a surprise?”
Cassie smiled to herself and didn’t respond.
CHAPTER 16
Early the following morning, Al came downstairs to an empty kitchen. The patio doors were wide open, and Red wasn’t around. A quick glance at the garden confirmed Red had most likely gone on an early walk with Hillary, the same as the previous day.
By the time Cassie joined him a while later, Al had brewed a pot of coffee and was on his second bowl of cereal. Cassie moved the cereal box off the table. She frowned, staring at the box like it was an alien object, and squinted at the list of ingredients.
“I certainly don’t remember buying these chocolate-covered sugar bites disguised as a busy mom’s alternative to a healthy breakfast,” she said. “Are they even legal? There are so many additives, I’m not sure whether they should be classified as food or rocket fuel.”
Murder and Food Porn: A Northwest Cozy Mystery (Northwest Cozy Mystery Series Book 8) Page 10