I raised one skeptical eyebrow. “She figured out what he was doing based on that? She’s pretty sharp.”
Chance winked. “Nah, she was just venting about Victor’s bad behavior when I asked her if maybe he’d placed the phone there on purpose. Maybe for surveillance. That’s when she realized what he was up to.” Chance beamed at me. “Have I redeemed myself?”
I clapped lightly. “Bravo. You used your head. As it turns out, that’s exactly what Victor was doing. He posted the pictures to his Facebook page. One of those was of Cody Stellon-Woodham. It’s time. The photos give us enough to take another field trip. But first, we have to get copies of these saved off so we have our own record. Maybe you can tell me how we’re going to do that.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I was locking the front door of the apartment on our way out when Chance asked if I thought Meyer might have seen Cody Stellon-Woodham during his visit to the office. We decided it was worth a try. We agreed on our roles during the drive. Since Meyer apparently liked Chance and could hear him, he’d ask the questions. I’d hang back and chime in only as needed.
This time, parking in front of Meyer’s apartment was no problem. Chance seemed unfazed at leaving the Ferrari on the streets. Maybe he was still in shock from the trip to Victor’s apartment in Kalihi.
Our conversation went well. We learned that Meyer had never heard of, let alone been examined by, Dr. Morph. Meyer even pulled out the Honolulu phone book and checked, but the doc wasn’t listed. In my mind, it was just more support for the argument that he was a quack running a scam on the healthcare system. All of us seemed to be getting along just swell, as Meyer might say, when Chance popped the question about Cody. “Mr. Herschel, when you went to see Victor, was there a redhead hanging around?”
Meyer snickered and leaned in as though he were masterminding a grand conspiracy. “You looking for a little on the side, huh? Well, I can’t help you there. I didn’t go there to check out something with boobs and a happy place down below. No sir, I was there to get my money back.”
Chance’s face was about twelve shades of red. Maybe now he wouldn’t be as anxious to add to Meyer’s phrase repertoire. “We heard he was chasing some woman named Cody.”
“Code for what, McKenna? I told you, you gotta speak up.”
“We think he was involved with a woman named Cody Stellon-Woodham,” said Chance. “She’s the wife of the Reverend Trenton Woodham. Did you hear her name?”
I wanted to smack Chance. We were supposed to be getting information, not doling it out. Also, Meyer was now giving me stink eye.
“What did I do?” I bellowed.
“You wasn’t gonna tell me the name of his girlfriend, was you, McKenna? Well, what kind of friend are you? This boy, now he’s forthright. He speaks loud and clear so there ain’t no misunderstanding. You could learn a few things from him.”
Yeah, like how to throw away thousands of dollars on a scam. Meyer’s mood soured almost immediately and we were soon on our way back to the car. Chance fired up the engine, but I held up a hand. “Oh, crap,” I muttered.
“You’re nor getting testy on me, too, are you?” Chance released the emergency brake and rolled forward while turning the wheel. “I feel bad for him, now he’s all upset about Mrs. Woodham.”
“Stop!”
The car jerked to a halt and Chance gawked at me. “What’s up, McKenna?”
“I know that old codger all too well. He might be in his 80s, but he’s still as sharp as they get.” I opened the door and stood next to the car. “We have to go back. I hope we’re not too late.”
I stormed away, leaving Chance to deal with the car. He caught up to me at the entrance. Not even winded. At least he looked confused, and that made me feel a little better. “That sneaky old fart just conned us, Chance. Our best hope is that he can’t find an address for her.”
“Address? For who?” Chance’s eyes opened wide. “Mrs. Woodham?” He didn’t wait for my answer, but went running ahead.
I rounded the corner to find him pounding on Meyer’s door. Had Meyer left already? I changed my course and went directly to the carports. There was an old Toyota Corolla, it’s paint flaking away, and a pristine, red pickup. Meyer’s space was empty. I returned to the apartment. Door open. No sign of Chance.
I waited for a moment, listening to the burbling of the courtyard pond. After a few seconds, I called into the apartment. “Chance, you in there?”
He appeared from the bedroom and pointed at the table where we’d been sitting. “He must have grabbed the phone book on his way out. It was right there and I don’t see one in the apartment.”
“Good observation. He’s off to find Cody. That means we have to get there first.”
Chance was already tapping on the screen of his phone. “Got her!” he yipped. “The address is Terrace Drive. It’s actually under her husband’s name.”
How had I not seen this coming? I shuddered at the thought of Meyer barging in on the Woodham’s. “He must have seen the husband’s name in the book. I told you he was smart. Why can’t he just let us do this?”
“I can map a route to Terrace Drive.” He tapped the screen of his phone a couple of times.
“Never mind.” I grabbed Chance’s arm and pulled him along. “That’s not a cheap neighborhood. It definitely fits with the image the Woodham’s want. I know the best way to get there.”
Traffic was heavy, so the twenty-minute drive turned into more like thirty. Of course, driving in this car didn’t help. In addition, Chance was ignoring my directions and using those provided by his phone’s GPS. It didn’t take a genius to know we were falling fast into traffic hell.
“Sorry, McKenna. I guess I should have listened when you told me you knew a better way.”
“The road less travelled, kid. I may not drive, but I can be a very observant passenger. Alexander drove me up here once to meet one of his cousins.”
“He knows everybody, doesn’t he?”
I nodded. “He also knows every inch of this island and when Alexander Kapono shows you a shortcut, you can bet it’s a good one.”
The GPS finally got us to the turnoff for Terrace Drive. The houses in this neighborhood probably sold for around a million bucks, but there was nothing special about them other than their location. We were on a steady rise, climbing into the hills behind Honolulu. Rising above the city, we occasionally caught a glimpse of the ocean through houses on the lower side of the street. Those on the high side of the street, however, had full-on, million-dollar views of the Pacific.
The Woodham house was situated on a steeply sloped lot on the high side of the street. The original home had probably been built in the 20s or 30s. Extensive remodels had doubled, maybe tripled, the original size. I couldn’t even imagine what the view must have been like eighty years ago, long before Honolulu high-rises and commercial development transformed the landscape.
When we arrived, Meyer was just approaching the front entrance. “Get up there.” I pointed at the driveway. Chance gunned the engine. The front end bottomed out on the asphalt. Even Meyer must have heard the scrape. He turned. Gawked at us.
Maybe we were in time. I released my seatbelt and was out of the car almost before Chance had come to a full stop. Meyer took one look at me and scurried toward the door.
What was this, second grade? “Meyer, don’t you dare…”
He jabbed the bell a couple of times and banged on the door. “Open up in there!”
“Enough, already!” Cody Stellon-Woodham flung the front door open. Conservatively dressed in a gray business suit and skirt that landed at the knee, she had fire in her eyes. “What do you want? Who do you think you are, anyway?”
“Mrs. Woodham!” I called. Wow, she was a good-looking woman. Who liked to accessorize with red. Interesting.
She and Meyer both turned their attention to me. “And who are you?” she asked. “What’s going on?” The reverend’s wife, even with a scowl on her face, was gorgeous
. I could see why she was a darling of Honolulu’s high society. Red hair and all.
Meyer opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when a nearby voice called out. “So sorry, Mrs. Woodham.” Chance rushed past me and gently pulled Meyer away from the entrance. “He got away from us.”
Mrs. Woodham glanced at me. I nodded to agree with Chance and squiggled my finger around my ear.
After a moment, she licked her lips and mouthed, “Oh.”
Chance wrapped an arm around Meyer’s shoulder. “Now, Mr. Herschel, you know we can’t just go running off like that.”
“What are you talking about, boy? You think I’m see-nile or something? Why I could...”
Meyer’s voice trailed off as Chance led him away, all the time resisting, but his strength was no match for that of the younger man. I turned back to Mrs. Woodham. “I’m sorry for that. You see, my client is under a great deal of stress right now.”
“I don’t care what kind of stress he’s under. Keep him away from my home.” She started to close the door, but I motioned for her to wait.
“He’s here because you’ve been associated in our investigation with Victor Durisseau.”
She did a double take and her color visibly paled. She pressed gently on the door, but stopped when I continued.
“I’m sure your relationship with Mr. Durisseau was purely professional, but my client doesn’t see it that way. He’s going to want to ask you questions and he won’t be as understanding as my young associate or I might be.”
She stood straighter and held her head high. “I’m calling the police.”
“In that case, I’ll wait here and explain what we know to them. I’m sure they’ll be interested in this photo.” I pulled my phone and showed her my copy of the picture from the conference room. Her hand went straight to her chest and she sucked in a small breath. Oh yeah, we definitely had Mrs. Woodham on the run.
Gripping the edge of the door, she no longer made a move to close it. Instead, her fingers turned white as she stared at the image. “Jesus.” A moment later, she whispered to herself, “Goddamn you, Victor.”
“Cody—you don’t mind if I call you by your first name, do you? I’ve never been real big on formalities.”
The longer she stood there, the worse she looked. It was like her heart stopped pumping blood. Her color drained until her skin reminded me of translucent paper. In this case, one picture on a phone was worth way more than a thousand words.
“Anyway, Cody, I think we’ve got a mutual problem. You don’t want anyone else to see this, but the police could—maybe already have—found it. As far as I’m concerned, what happened between you and Victor is—private. But, there are certain aspects of your—relationship—that might help me prove my friend didn’t murder your cheating lover.”
Cody doubled over, gripped her sides, and dashed down the hall. I stepped inside and followed the sounds of someone retching. I found her in the bathroom, kneeling on the floor, facing the open toilet bowl. One red shoe lay on its side next to her. The sound of dry heaves racked the air as she leaned over the toilet bowl again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Woodham guest bath was a model of upper-class style. Huge room. Earthiness predominated. A large framed Hawaiian print hung on one wall. Even the towels were color coordinated. An open box of tissues sat on the countertop. I pulled a few and pushed them into Cody’s hand. She muttered a weak thank you before heaving again.
I wet a small, neatly folded washcloth and handed it to her.
She still didn’t speak. I watched her, desperately trying to figure out if I’d misinterpreted Kimu’s message—again. There had been a woman in red and one in green. In the photo, Cody had worn a green dress. Given Kimu’s love of imagery, I was pretty sure the dress was the key. But, the shoe…
I put a hand on Cody’s shoulder and spoke softly. “I’ll be right back.” I left her on the floor and hurried out to the Ferrari.
Chance and Meyer stood next to the car. Chance was apparently still attempting some sort of negotiation with Meyer.
“You can’t be harassing her, Mr. Herschel.”
“I ain’t harassing her.”
I bit back a harrumph.
“We was just going to have a little talk until you two morons showed up. Whole lotta good you two done me.” Meyer jabbed his finger in my direction.
“Well, thanks. I’ve gone from brilliant to moron. Meyer, Chance is going to take you home. I’ll drive your car back after I talk to Mrs. Woodham.”
“Uh, McKenna.” Chance hitched his chin toward the house.
Cody was in the doorway, a phone in her hand. “There’s an intruder on my property!”
Shit. Slandering a clergyman’s wife wasn’t on my bucket list. Mrs. Woodham either had a stronger will than I thought or she was more desperate. Either way, I wasn’t ready to share what I had with anyone—yet. “We’re so screwed,” I said.
Meyer barked, “What?”
“He said, it’s back to your place, dude.” Chance beamed at me.
I winked at him. “Nice.”
As much as I hated to admit it, the kid was right. We had to leave before a bad situation turned into a disaster. I rode shotgun with Meyer to keep him from taking matters into his own hands again. Back at his place, we grounded him. He bitched and moaned, but eventually agreed that he’d acted rashly and should leave the investigation to the experts as long as we did something productive, which he defined as staking out the Woodham household.
What else could go wrong? We grabbed some take-out on our way. Chance had a burger, fries, and a soft drink. I ordered a salad. When the pimply faced kid behind the counter rolled his eyes, I tried to explain my gluten-free diet. Right, like he even cared.
By 7:30 pm, even Chance, who had been excited to be going on his first “real stakeout,” was bored. He’d finally realized this PI stuff wasn’t all TV-show drama. “They didn’t tell you about this in your online classes, huh?”
He shook his head. “I’m seeing a lot of stuff they haven’t told me about.”
“You might want to use some of the things you’ve been learning to do a little more research on them. Who knows, maybe you’ll find a better teacher.”
Chance seemed agreeable to the concept of switching agencies, but that didn’t take away the boredom factor. At least we had a nice view. The home stood majestically on its own small hill. The Pacific sparkled like a sea of diamonds in the distance. Sitting here, it was easy to understand why the view raised the property value by more money than I’d earn in my lifetime.
By eight, Chance and I had debated every aspect of the case—from what Meyer had told us to the revelations about the doctor to Cody Stellon-Woodham herself. No doubt about it, we needed to learn a great deal more before we could find Victor’s killer. The problem was, we didn’t have time. “The doctor. Chance, can you look him up?”
“Sure.” Out came the phone, blur went the fingers. About a minute later, Chance let out a low whistle. “Dr. Melville Morph had his license suspended when he was practicing in Connecticut about five years ago. It’s an old news story and it doesn’t say what happened, but maybe he got his license back and moved out here.”
“Connecticut? A bad reputation in a small state would probably destroy him.”
Chance tapped again on the phone. “He’s got a valid Hawai‘i medical license.”
“Does that thing give you an address?”
“It’s a PO Box.”
I pointed at the house. “We’ve got one light on upstairs. So, right now, it’s one up, one down.”
“You think they’re the early-to-bed kind?” Chance’s question wasn’t terribly profound, but it did raise another.
“I wonder if this is their normal pattern. Apart all day, dinner together, then split up again.”
“What if it is? I don’t get what we’re going to learn about watching lights go off and on in a house.”
“I really don’t know, either, Chance. The thing is
, I can’t get the image of Cody out of my mind. When she was kneeling in front of the toilet puking her guts out, she looked so…”
“Forlorn?”
“Maybe. Definitely lost. I think she feels like she’s all alone. Why would she have had such a strong reaction to the news about Victor unless she was in love with him?” I paused, listened to the breeze rustle the fronds of a nearby palm. “You think maybe these two sleep in separate bedrooms?”
“What would that prove?” Chance held up his straw and blew though it.
“What on earth are you doing?”
“I need some scissors to make it work right. I was the straw-kazoo king in high school.”
“Of course you were.” I had to fight back the image of Chance tooting his kazoo during history class. I continued, “It might tell us if this marriage is on the rocks or still solid. Who knows, maybe one of them will leave after lights out.”
“Might not work, McKenna. My mom and dad have had separate bedrooms for years. Their marriage is solid. Besides, with Victor dead, where’s Mrs. Woodham going to go?”
“We’re watching two people, remember?”
Chance glanced at the house, then spoke in a barely audible voice. “Ohhh. I get it.”
At 9:20 pm, the downstairs lights went off and new lights came on upstairs. The first was in the adjoining room, the other in a bathroom. Both were on for about fifteen minutes, then the house was dark.
“I think we have our answer, McKenna.”
“Yup. Unless that’s an office and those two are having a late reunion, Mr. and Mrs. Woodham lead very separate private lives.”
We called off the surveillance at 9:40. At my apartment, Chance offered to keep on working late into the night, but I was exhausted from last night’s dream and told him I needed rest. To be honest, I wanted to try something new. I’d never deliberately summoned Kimu before—he’d always shown up whenever he wanted. Maybe, for once, I could take control.
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