Three-Day Weekends are Murder
Page 14
Maddy grinned. “I understand that analogy. It’s happened to me more than once. But how can someone know for sure a stock will go down in price?”
“If either of the problems D & M is facing comes to light, the stock could tank,” Tom reasoned. “Based on the information in John Simpson’s report, a lot of money could be made—”
“Or lost,” Paul concluded. “Multiply that five-dollar-per-share scenario times hundreds of thousands of shares. It packs a wallop.” He pulled out his handheld device and thumbed through it. “According to investment reports, the company’s stock had a major breakout after their latest product was put on the market. Investors are pouring into the stock. Based on the current price per share and the number of shares outstanding, a short sale play would represent major bucks.”
“How major?” Tom’s voice raised a notch. “Enough to be a motive for murder?”
Paul tapped numbers into the calculator. "In the neighborhood of twenty million.”
Maddy whistled. "That would do it."
Tom shook his head. “It sounds risky.”
“Short selling is not for the likes of you and me, pal,” Paul assured him. “Especially in a high risk sector like pharmaceuticals. Those stocks are speculative. Investors will dump at the first sign of anything negative. You have to know what you’re doing.”
Maddy raised her hands. “It sounds as if you three are building a case against Eric.” She glared at Tom. “I thought you were off his case.”
The waitress returned with the bill and Maddy excused herself to go to the restroom. The three people at the table looked at each other.
Lea spoke first. “Do you want to ask, Tom, or should I?”
The detective wadded his napkin and threw it on his plate. He shook his head in disgust. “Ask what?”
“The question we’re all wondering about.” She looked at each of the men. “Why didn’t Eric discuss the matter of short sales with Maddy and me? It had to have occurred to him. He would have suggested it as a motive unless…”
Paul sensed his wife’s unwillingness to say it out loud. He finished for her. “Unless he’s in on the play.”
Lea hesitated. “Do you think Maddy’s asked herself that question?”
“Maybe she has.” Tom stared glumly into his empty mug. “But I’m not sure she wants to know the answer.”
Chapter Twenty
Maddy left early Monday morning to drive to Eric’s office. She wanted to be back home by noon. Later that day, the freeway would turn into a snake of bumper-to-bumper cars weaving their way home after the long weekend.
She decided to drive along the coast instead of on the freeway. The coast drive takes longer, but I love the scenic route.
The chilly, unseasonable weather had blown through. Sun-lovers were arriving at the beach to get their fill on the last day of the holiday.
Opening the windows, the salty air tingled her face and filled her nostrils. She adjusted the baseball cap to keep her long hair from blowing in her face.
The sound of waves pinging against rock outcroppings created a surround sound effect. The high-pitched screaming of seagulls spiked her sense of wanderlust. How sweet it would be to keep driving, all the way to San Diego. I could take Mom shopping or go sailing with Dad, and quit dealing with Eric and his problems.
The last several days had been unsettling. She looked in her rearview mirror. No one behind me to think I’m crazy talking to myself.
She voiced her complaints out loud. “Besides the murder and the strain on my relationship with Tom, Eric has dominated my weekend.” She brushed back loose strands of hair floating down the back of her neck. “Things have a way of revolving around him. When we were married, he determined where we lived, our friends, how we spent vacations, even the cars we drove.”
She spoke louder as her feelings poured out. “He’s the one people noticed when we entered a room. They gathered around him, anxious to hear what he had to say. His opinions mattered. His approval was important.”
A car passed and she stopped moving her lips. Boy, did I get sick of women telling me how lucky I was to be married to him.
The car disappeared around a curve. She continued her dialog. “He’s dynamic alright. But the same magnetism that attracted me eventually burned us out.” A pain burned in her chest. Sadness enveloped her. She looked in the mirror. “Admit it, Maddy. The dynamo Eric was attracted to faded like snow in an overbearing sun.”
She sat up straight and gripped the steering wheel. “It’s alright. I’m okay now. It’s taken time but I’ve regained my footing. I know who I am and what I’m doing. Now that I see us in a clearer light, I understand why our marriage didn’t work. I barely understood myself, let alone the man I was living with. There are layers to him I never knew.”
She tried to silence the nagging voice that questioned Eric’s innocence. “I know the others have doubts. Maybe not regarding the murder, but certainly about his truthfulness and moral fiber.”
A horn blared behind her and a car filled with shouting youths drove past.
Eric should have brought up the short sale issue. Why hasn’t he? She tapped her nails on the wheel. No one at Barneys had mentioned it. They assumed I’d be defensive. Am I defending Eric and refusing to see the truth?
Was the man I saw at the bar a potential whistle-blower or in collusion with Eric?
What about Wes? He’s been riding in Eric’s wake for years. Were they planning to cash in on Simpson’s information to fatten their bank accounts?
She watched surfers paddling away from the beach in search of the perfect ride. Believing Eric was as easy as surfing a wave. But you got in trouble if you fought the tide.
* * *
Maddy drove into the underground parking at the building where Eric’s office was located. The slam of her car door echoed through an empty garage. She took the elevator to the twentieth floor, slid the key-card into the entry door, and hurried to the wall pad where she punched in the security number Eric had given her.
The main room contained cubicles, indistinguishable except for pictures of children or the occasional potted plant. Partners’ offices, each with a view of the city, lined one side of the bullpen. On the other side was a conference room with a large video screen and walls covered with expensive artwork.
Maddy walked in a trance, experiencing déjà vu. She stopped at a desk outside Eric’s office, turned on his assistant’s computer, and input the password. She skimmed the in-box. There’s the tag-line I’m looking for. She inserted the flash drive, made a copy, and marked the message as unread.
Eric’s voice rang in her head. Go to my office to send the file so there won’t be any trace on my assistant’s computer of you tampering with the original message.
His office was unchanged except for the photo prominently displayed on his desk. Ah! No woman’s face in the frame. She enjoyed a moment of smug satisfaction. In place of her picture was one of him with friends on a hunting trip.
After adding a smiley face, she emailed the file to Eric. The task completed, she swiveled in the high-back chair to enjoy the view.
“Hey, gorgeous. What a pleasant surprise.”
Her pulse spiked. She spun the chair around and yelped. “Geez, Wes! You scared the crud out of me. What are you doing here?”
A grin slid across his face like lard on a hot griddle. “It must be destiny, the way we keep running into each other.” He took a seat across from her and stretched his arms behind his head. “The question is, what are you doing here? Do you still have Eric’s card?”
Maddy did a mental sprint. Think, Maddy. Why would Eric give me access? “I’ve got a new client. I need ideas for refurbishing their office. Eric let me use his key so I could take pictures of your furnishings.”
“I have some interesting pictures in my office.”
Probably not fit for public viewing. “Nothing my client would be interested in. I’ll pass.”
She wanted to leave. This time it was L
ea’s voice she heard. Don’t pass an opportunity to learn about recent activities at the firm. “So what big deals are you and Eric into?”
“Since when are you interested in our business? You never cared much for our wheeling and dealing.”
Take it easy. Go slow. “What makes you say that?”
“Who are you trying to kid, Maddy? You’re not into money. You weren’t excited about the big-ticket stuff Eric bought with his earnings.”
“Most of it was no more than expensive toys for adults.” Don’t be too critical. “But, you’re right. More is better has never been my mantra.”
Wes walked around the desk. He put his hands in his pockets and stared out at the city. “You can never have enough.”
“The problem is,” she suggested, “how much time you spend working to get it. Besides, what’s it all for? Eric’s trying to prove he’s a better man than his father. What’s your excuse?”
Wes pointed down at the street. “See that man sifting through garbage bins? It’s not that far from where he’s standing to where I’m standing. One wrong move and this whole house of cards falls down.”
She decided to push a button. “How far are you willing to go for the big bucks, Wes?”
“What’s true in war is true in business. No guts, no glory.” He moved away from the window. “What’s with the inquisition, anyway?”
Oops, too far. His tone sounded familiar to Maddy. It’s the tone Tom uses when he feels a witness is being evasive. She scooted the chair forward, slid her hand over the mouse, and turned off the computer. The flash drive was attached in a port on the side.
Wes placed a hand on the back of her chair. He leaned over and planted his other hand on the desk. “What are you really here for, Maddy?”
Her pulse raced as she turned to face him, blocking his view of the computer.
He ran a finger down her cheek and tipped her chin, hovering over her lips. “Eric was never good enough for you.”
She stood up quickly, pushing so hard he rocked back on his heels. “You’ve got that wrong. You were never good enough to be friends with Eric.”
“Don’t be that way,” he whined. “Don’t you get it? Being here is fate. We’re meant to be together.”
She used her arms like a shield, bulldozing her way past him. “You power players are all alike. You never take no for an answer.”
He raised his hands in the air and backed toward the door.
“If I were willing to do that,” he grinned, “I wouldn’t have made the big bucks.”
I need to get out of here. “Then go do whatever you do to make money. Let me finish, so I can leave.”
“Nah, you’ve ruined my urge to work.” He postured in the doorway. “But you’ve stirred other desires. I’m going to hit the beach. Easy pickings there today.”
“Whatever turns you on. Close the door on your way out.”
He shrugged and walked away. She let out her breath.
* * *
Maddy hurried to the garage and called Eric from her car.
He didn’t bother to say hello. “Did you copy the file to the flash drive?”
“Good morning to you, too. I assume you got the email I sent.”
“Yeah, I got it. So what about the flash drive?”
“It’s in my purse.” She looked around but saw no sign of Wes. “You’re welcome.”
“Oh yeah, thanks. Good job. Guess I’m a little anxious, that’s all.”
“More than a little, I’d say. Maybe there’s a reason for your case of the jitters.” She felt her own pulse, waiting for her words to sink in.
“What are you saying?” he asked. He sounded distracted, as though he were barely listening. Probably reading the file I sent.
“You know of other reasons that file may have been stolen. Reasons you didn’t bother to tell Lea and me.” She heard the click of a laptop being closed.
His response was guarded. “What are you talking about?”
Tapping her nails on the steering wheel, she reminded herself to breathe. She kept her reply brief to throw him off guard. “Someone could make millions from short sales of D & M stock.”
“Who told you that?” he finally asked.
“You don’t think I figured it out on my own?”
“Finances aren’t your strong suit. You’re only good at spending money.”
She held her breath and counted to three, refusing to engage in petty insults. “You need to call my sister and tell her your suspicions unless you want people to think you’re involved in illegal activity.”
“What people are you referring to?”
She ignored his question. “Call Lea, or you’ll be seen from a whole new angle. One that may land you back in jail.”
“I won’t have any credibility,” he argued. “She’ll know you put me up to it.”
“She doesn’t know we’re having this conversation and I won’t mention it to her. But every moment, your silence on the subject becomes harder to explain.”
“Okay, okay.” He sounded impatient, as though he wanted to end the conversation. Her well-being was an afterthought. “You didn’t have any problems, did you? Run into anybody?”
“Your office is quiet as a tomb.” She crossed her fingers. “Guess even power players take an occasional day off from making millions.”
Chapter Twenty-One
John Simpson’s address was in a small town known for good surfing halfway between Buena Viaje and D & M Pharmaceuticals. The town had a pedestrian-friendly main street, mom-and-pop shops, and antique stores.
Lea passed through the downtown area and entered a neighborhood of small, older houses. She was driving slowly, reading numbers painted on street curbs, when her phone rang.
“Hi, Lea. Sorry to bother you. I know I’m not your favorite person to hear from.”
“What’s on your mind, Eric?”
“I need to pass on information about a possible motive for the crime. I think you’re the best person to know what to do with it.”
“Are you with Maddy?”
“No, and I’d rather keep her out of it. It involves someone she has a distinct dislike for. Her judgment may be clouded.”
Lea pulled to the curb and turned off the engine. “Maddy doesn’t know John Simpson. It couldn’t be him you’re talking about.” She neglected to mention she was blocks from Simpson’s house.
“No, it’s someone I work with. A broker at our firm. His name is Wes Reed.”
Lea was pleased to hear Eric was willing to discuss short sales, the information she felt he was withholding.
“He has a client heavily invested in D & M Pharmaceuticals. If the whistle-blower discloses the information in his report, Wes’ client stands to lose millions.”
Lea took a moment to process what she was hearing. It wasn’t what she expected. “Would that be bad for Wes?”
“Disastrous. It’s his best client. That investor is primarily responsible for the big commissions Wes has been earning.”
“Are you saying Wes could lose the client if he sustained significant losses on the pharmaceutical stock?”
“No question about it.”
“Could it cost Wes his job?”
Eric took a moment to consider the question. “He has enough clients to keep his position in the firm. He wouldn’t be fired, but losing that client would kill his dreams of making partner.”
Lea realized that Eric’s words were intended to point out a motive for murder. “Why would he think the stock might lose value?”
“That’s what I asked myself," Eric said. “It’s why I didn’t mention it sooner. The stock’s soaring through the roof. There’s no reason for Wes or anyone else to suppose it might take a dive.”
“Except you called me. You must think he got wind of the problem.”
“I’m afraid it could be my fault.”
“You’re talking in riddles, Eric.” She rolled down her window and glanced down the street.
“Remember wha
t I said about sending a copy of John’s file to my assistant?”
“It’s what you were doing when Maddy met you.”
“That’s just it. I spread the papers on the table to snap pictures.”
“So?”
“I didn’t consider it until this morning.”
“Consider what?” She wished he’d come to the point so she could find the Simpson house.
“Wes coming to my table and offering to buy me a drink.”
“Do you think he was trying to see the papers you were working on?”
“That’s not what he seemed to be after. He joked about bribing me to get my opinion of his presentation. He was eager to find out if the partners were impressed, but—”
“But what?”
“He couldn’t help but notice. Every page was headed with the name of the pharmaceutical company.”
“Didn’t you remove the papers when he joined you?”
“No, I finished taking pictures while he ordered drinks. Maddy arrived. I sent the email and put the file in my briefcase.”
“You weren’t concerned about Wes seeing the papers?”
“I wasn’t thinking in those terms. I didn’t know at the time what I was dealing with.”
There was silence as Lea collected her thoughts. Before she could respond, Eric choked.
“I could be responsible for the whole terrible thing.”
“How are you responsible?”
“Information affecting a client’s largest investment is reason for Wes to do something as foolish as stealing the file.” His words tumbled out. “If I hadn’t been careless in handling those papers, he wouldn’t have been scared into trying to get his hands on them. He'd have no reason to go to my room, and Kim might still be alive.”
The muffled sob she heard made Lea uncomfortable. “Calm down, Eric. The last several days have shredded your nerves. Your imagination is in high gear creating all sorts of implausible explanations.”
“I hope you’re right, but I need to know.”
Lea hesitated. “Alright, I’ll do what I can to figure out if Wes is responsible.” She rubbed her fingers across her forehead. “I’ll be in touch when I have something to report.”