by Jana DeLeon
“I can get past Benton,” Byron said. “Let’s do this.”
I shot a look at Ida Belle that conveyed what we were both thinking, which was I hope to God Gertie hasn’t talked, then we headed inside. An older woman with salt-and-pepper hair and a somewhat leathery face greeted us at the door. “You must be here for Ms. Hebert,” she said and sighed. “Guess that means I’ve got to go get Deputy Benton.”
“Is there a problem?” Byron asked.
“Only the personal sort,” she said. “Benton’s what my grandson calls a douche. I’d never really liked the word but it’s rather accurate in this case. Anyway, I’ll go get His Majesty.”
Byron shook his head as the woman walked off down a hallway. “This Benton is one popular dude.”
“Wait until you meet him,” Ida Belle said. “‘Douche’ is polite.”
The woman returned fairly quickly, Benton right on her tail, leaving a trail of water with every step. Byron stepped up and stuck out his hand. “I’m Byron Anderson, Ms. Hebert’s attorney.”
Benton gave Byron’s hand an unenthusiastic shake as he sent an angry glance over toward Ida Belle and me. “Deputy Benton,” he said. “I’m in charge of the investigation. I’d like to start the questioning right away, if possible.”
Byron wrinkled his nose. “Would you like to change clothes first, or shower even?”
“I’d love to,” Benton said. “But that would require going home and I’m not letting this wait another minute. Do you need to speak to your client first?”
“Depends,” Byron said. “Has she said anything to you?”
“Aside from bitching nonstop about her rights to use the restroom and have a phone call, and claiming she was dehydrated and would pass out if she didn’t receive water, no. She hasn’t said a word. Of course, she didn’t have much time in between all those things, either.”
“Great,” Byron said. “I’m up to speed on everything, so no need to chat privately with Ms. Hebert. Ms. Redding will be assisting me with building my defense, should it come to that. I assume you have no problem with her sitting in the questioning.”
“Darn right I have a problem with it,” Byron said. “That woman is a nuisance, just like her friend. I am under no obligation to allow her in the room and don’t aim to accommodate such nonsense.”
“You’re welcome to stick to the norm, of course,” Byron said. “But I would like to remind you that Ms. Redding is a former CIA operative and spent years putting her life on the line at an international level so that people like you could cruise a beach every day. I would hate to think a department like this one had such disdain for the men and women doing a job that few of us are capable of.”
A flush crept up Benton’s neck and I knew he wanted to tell Byron to go to hell, but the CIA thing was keeping him from jumping into that snake pit. Of all the government agencies, not one struck fear into the hearts of law enforcement like the CIA. It was the secrecy, I think. That and all the Hollywood movies. No matter how tough a person was, they still hesitated when standing their ground meant pissing off the CIA.
“Fine,” Benton said. “But she better not so much as clear her throat or she’s out of there.”
“I’ll hold my breath if necessary,” I said.
Benton whirled around. “This way.”
I leaned over and whispered to Ida Belle, “Talk up the dispatcher and see what you can get.”
Ida Belle nodded. “On it.”
Byron and I followed Benton to the back of the building and into a small room with a folding table and four chairs. Gertie was sitting in a chair on the far wall, reading a pamphlet on Florida driving laws. I noticed four empty bottles of water in front of her and a potted plant leaking water in the corner and held in a smile. Benton probably thought she was part camel.
Gertie beamed at Byron as he introduced himself. “Carter didn’t tell us you were this handsome,” Gertie said. “You look like you stepped off a runway.”
Byron smiled at Gertie as a young man would a favorite great-aunt and I could tell he was flattered rather than annoyed by her comments. “Such a lovely woman deserves equally attractive representation.”
“You’re good,” Gertie said.
“Can we get on with this?” Benton said. “She’s been dodging me all day. I’m past due for answers.”
“For the two hundredth time,” Gertie said, “I wasn’t dodging. I was fishing. It’s called a vacation, and it’s not like you strapped an ankle bracelet on me and told me I had to stay at the condo.”
“Deputy Benton,” Byron said, “I’m sure we can agree that since Ms. Hebert was not under arrest, she was well within her rights to continue her vacation as planned. It’s not as if she left the state.”
Benton grumbled and pointed to seats. He looked even less than enthused when I took the seat next to him, which was exactly what I was going for. Agitated people tended to give things away that they wouldn’t otherwise reveal. Unless charges were filed, Benton didn’t have to give us detailed information on Otis’s death. And I really wanted to push him into revealing some of it. Cause of death would be stellar.
Benton turned on his recorder and took down the usual basics—name, address, age, profession, etc. Then he started in on the specifics, such as why Gertie was in Florida and how she picked that resort. Finally, he got around to Otis.
“How did you meet Mr. Baker?” Benton asked.
Gertie launched into an animated and very detailed description of almost dying in the surf and lingered on flashing the beach. Benton grimaced and tried to hurry her along in her tale, but Gertie was on a roll and determined to punish Benton in any way possible.
Mission accomplished.
Finally, she concluded with Otis’s dinner invitation, and Benton visibly sighed with relief.
“So you had dinner last night?” Benton asked. “Where did you eat? Did Otis meet you somewhere? Or did he come to your room?”
“We ate at the Italian restaurant at the resort,” Gertie said. “I met him there at seven o’clock. He had reservations. I insisted on oysters for an appetizer. They’re an aphrodisiac, you know?”
Benton looked perched on the edge of apoplexy. “And what did you do after dinner?”
Gertie launched into her romantic walk on the beach story, dwelling as much as possible on the romance part, and I could tell Benton was sorry he’d had to ask. Byron had long since leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the show.
“Anyway,” Gertie finally concluded, “Otis walked me to my room, gave me a kiss good-night and said he’d call me today. I let myself in and went straight to bed. Too much wine and not enough oysters. Of course, if I’d had more of the appetizer, dessert might have gone an entirely different direction.”
She started to giggle and Benton reached for his bottled water and took a big gulp.
“So if the date went so well,” Benton said, “why did you kill him?”
It was so out of left field that even Byron looked a bit surprised, and I figured he’d heard most everything at least twice.
“I didn’t kill him,” Gertie said. “I had a really nice dinner. What possible motive could I have?”
“Maybe the date was more, uh, romantic than you’re letting on,” Benton said. “Maybe Otis wasn’t satisfied with the performance and insulted you. What would you say to that?”
“I’d say you’re as big a liar as you are a fool,” Gertie said. “If Otis had experienced the privilege of my performance, the only thing he would have been offended by was his own lack of endurance.”
Byron started choking and reached for his bottled water. I could tell he was trying not to smile. I didn’t even bother trying. Gertie was on a roll.
“Maybe he owed you money,” Benton said. “Word around here is that Otis has talked quite a few women into funding his lifestyle.”
“I have no idea why you think dinner with a man I just met should constitute my taking him as a dependent,” Gertie said, “but you’re wrong. Besid
es, I brought two hundred dollars with me in case I spotted some silly souvenirs, and it’s all still in my wallet. I have my emergency credit card, but I left my checkbook at home and I don’t have jewelry worth pawning. Otis couldn’t take me for more than what dinner cost him.”
Benton shook his head. “You expect me to believe you came for a weeklong vacation with only two hundred dollars?”
“Fortune is treating Ida Belle and me to this vacation,” Gertie said. “She insisted.”
Benton glanced over at me and I nodded. Nodding wasn’t the same as speaking.
Apparently, Byron had grown tired of the exchange. It was clear Benton was on a fishing expedition. “Look,” Byron said, “my client has answered all your questions. She didn’t know the deceased prior to yesterday, and there’s no reason to think she plotted and executed his demise. Speaking of which, what exactly killed Mr. Baker?”
“That’s confidential,” Benton said.
“Have it your way,” Byron said and rose. “Unless you’re arresting my client, which would be extraordinary since you can’t offer up motive or opportunity, I think we’re done here.”
“I want to search her condo,” Benton said.
“Not without a warrant, and good luck getting one,” Byron said. “The next time you want to speak to my client, you’ll make an appointment with me and you’ll wait on my availability. And I better not hear about you placing an elderly woman in handcuffs again unless you’re making an arrest. Are we clear?”
Benton looked past Byron and gave him a single nod before slamming his hand down on the recorder. He knew he was beat. No matter how much he’d love to pin this on Gertie and go around crowing about being a hero, he had nothing. And he wasn’t going to get anything because the bottom line was that Gertie hadn’t killed Otis.
But someone had.
Chapter Nine
Dave’s story about being held on trumped-up charges lingered in the back of my mind. Just how bad was Benton at his job? And how far would he go to close the case? I’d known from the moment he told us Otis was dead that I was jumping into the middle of the mess with both feet, but his behavior had only strengthened my resolve.
We made our way back to the sheriff’s department lobby where Ida Belle was waiting for us. I’d seen her talking to the dispatcher from down the hallway but as we got closer, they both went silent and pretended they weren’t even aware the other was in the room. I hoped she’d gotten the dirt on Benton. I needed to know exactly what we were up against.
We were all quiet until we exited, then everyone started speaking at once. I put up a hand and whistled. “There’s a café across the street,” I said. “I suggest we grab a soda and have an information exchange.”
We headed into the café, which was quiet at that time of day, and found an empty table at the back. We waited until the server had delivered our drinks before I took control of the conversation. I gave Ida Belle a quick rundown of our conversation with Benton, then Gertie told us about harassing Benton while she waited on us. Finally, we got to Ida Belle.
“Please tell me the angry dispatcher gave you something,” I said.
“It’s what we expected but worse,” Ida Belle said. “Benton isn’t just lazy and incompetent. He’s shady. She says he’s trumped up charges on people just to get arrests on his record. The current sheriff isn’t healthy, and word is he might retire soon. I mean like maybe days soon. Benton thinks he’s going to slide right into the job.”
“So he’s building his résumé,” I said.
Ida Belle nodded. “And nabbing a murderer would put a big feather in his cap.”
“He better rethink his cap, then,” Byron said. “Because that’s not going to happen. He has no evidence.”
“He has no evidence yet,” I said.
“You really think he’d manufacture evidence and send an innocent woman to jail for murder just to get a sheriff’s job in Podunk, Florida?” Byron asked, then frowned. “Never mind. I’ve seen stranger.”
“So have we,” Ida Belle said. “I’m not saying it will happen, but I am saying we can’t expect Benton to play fair. The dispatcher thinks the sheriff will announce his retirement next week. They’re mid-election, so the position will be filled by appointment. If this murder is still unsolved, it won’t look good for Benton.”
I sighed. “The only thing worse than incompetent law enforcement is incompetent law enforcement with political ambitions.”
“You said it, sister,” Ida Belle said.
“Did she give you any details on the investigation?” I asked.
Ida Belle shook her head. “She said Benton was playing everything close to the vest. He’s not even letting the other deputies in on the investigation.”
“Wants all the credit,” Gertie said.
“That,” I agreed, “and by controlling all the information, he can add to or subtract from it as needed to fit his narrative.”
Even Byron looked a little less confident than before. “I know you’re not licensed in Florida, so you can’t do anything official,” he said, “but anything you can dig up on Otis will help me launch a defense. Assuming it comes to that. If he was scamming women, some names would be a great start.”
I nodded. “Just don’t tell Carter you implied I should play PI out of state. I don’t need the encouragement and you don’t need the grief.”
He grinned. “I can imagine. I’ll see what I can find out on Benton and the DA. I really wish we had cause of death, but Benton wasn’t parting with anything.”
“No,” I agreed. “Sounds like he’s trying to keep everything a secret.”
Ida Belle nodded. “But given the dispatcher’s reputation for gossiping and her utter dislike for Benton, I have no doubt she’ll try to find out something, if for no other reason than to get one up on him. As soon as she knows something, it will get around. And my guess is she went to work on it as soon as Benton left to shower. We’ll work the resort staff and other locals and see what we come up with.”
“And if no one knows anything,” Gertie said, “we have other ways to acquire information.”
Byron looked interested but not brave enough to ask. It was probably a good thing as I was certain Gertie was implying that we could break into the sheriff’s department and read Benton’s case files. It was one thing to break into the Sinful sheriff’s department, where we knew the sheriff and the deputies and I was positive they didn’t have security cameras, but it was another thing altogether to consider doing it in a strange town.
Ida Belle gave her a disapproving frown. “I’m sure we’ll find out what we need from the resort staff. That’s usually where all the good gossip is.”
“Great,” Byron said, and rose from the table. “I’m going to head out. If you run into any trouble with Benton, call me immediately. And it goes without saying that you don’t speak to him without me present. None of you.”
“What if he gets a search warrant?” I asked.
“I’d be shocked if he can manage it, but there’s nothing we can do about it,” Byron said. “Just call me if he presents with one.”
I nodded. “Thanks for coming out so quickly.”
“No problem,” Byron said. “I owe Carter one. This is a much easier way to pay him back than taking a bullet like he did for me.” He gave us a wave and headed out of the café.
Gertie stared. “Carter took a bullet for him?”
I shrugged. “Beats me. I mean, he’s got a couple wounds that are definitely bullet holes, but Carter doesn’t talk about his service.”
“And you don’t ask.” Gertie sighed. “I honestly don’t know how you sleep at night knowing all that fascinating information is right there in front of you and you’re refusing to access it.”
“It’s not like I can punch in a pass code and Google on his chest,” I said. “If Carter wants me to know something, he’ll tell me. Probably most of it’s classified anyway. It’s not like I spend dinners telling him about my missions.”
&n
bsp; “I can’t imagine talking about either would be pleasant,” Ida Belle said. “You and Carter are decent people. Regardless of how necessary and important your roles were, I don’t have any doubt of the difficulty it took to fulfill them. It’s not something I would want to dwell on in the past, especially if I was trying to move forward with my new life.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Gertie said. “But man, I bet the stories would be something.”
“There’s no disagreement there,” Ida Belle said. “So back to our current problem…where do we start?”
“I think the suspect angle is most important,” I said. “If Otis was really a full-time scammer of women, then my guess is this all comes back to an angry woman.”
“Or son or brother of an angry woman,” Ida Belle said.
“Yep,” I agreed. “So we develop a list of potential victims of scamming, then we investigate them and those close to them. Hopefully, we’ll be able to eliminate some based on opportunity, as they’ll all have the same motive. Then we can get a list to Byron.”
Ida Belle nodded. “So we chat up the resort staff and visit some of the local haunts and see if anyone’s talkative.”
“And we might want to chat up any of the older female vacationers,” I said. “Otis probably targeted someone before Gertie. If one of the resort staff took notice and knew Otis’s reputation, they might have warned someone off.”
“That’s a lot of people to cover,” Gertie said. “Probably a couple hundred between staff, guests, and locals.”
“I know,” I agreed. “It’s a lot of ground. All we can do is start talking and hope some names shake out.”
“Well, I have no problem with the talking part,” Gertie said.
“Don’t we know it,” Ida Belle grumbled.
Gertie shot her a dirty look.
“This is one of those times when being a nosy old lady comes in handy,” Ida Belle said. “It’s not like Fortune can go around chatting up perfect strangers with intrusive questions—assuming she was even capable of chatting up perfect strangers. But everyone expects old ladies to do it.”