Black Diamond Death (20 page)

If Parker didn’t kill Charlotte, I was convinced we had two different killers on our hands. Aside from the fact that they both looked staged, the crimes were committed in very different ways. From a logical standpoint, it didn’t make sense to me that a killer would poison their first victim and then shoot the other.

In the short time I knew Parker Stanton I understood why a person would want him dead. Everywhere I turned he had potential enemies—a jealous girlfriend, someone outraged enough at Charlotte’s death to seek revenge, or maybe an old flame from the past. And what about the mysterious man in black who left the note on Parker’s doorstep. All sorts of suspects came to mind, but I cared a lot less about solving the mystery of Parker’s demise and a lot more about what happened to Charlotte.

I turned onto the freeway toward home and checked my rear-view mirror. For the last four miles I was being followed. At first I chalked it up to coincidence, but the longer I drove, the more I didn’t think so. Given the poor job they did of hiding themselves behind me, I was certain the person was an amateur.

It was seven miles from the freeway off-ramp to the exit where I lived. I continued to drive South and the car stayed right in line with me. A few miles from the exit I stepped on the gas and moved into the left lane and passed a couple of cars before I switched back to the right lane. The car didn’t follow this time.

I exited the freeway and turned toward my house and thought I was in the clear, but I was wrong. A few seconds later the car barreled off the ramp toward the stop sign. At the rate it was going I thought it would miss the stop sign all together, but at some point the driver realized the road came to an end and slammed on the brakes. The car jerked back and expelled a grey substance into the air and then came to a complete stop. I kept one hand on the steering wheel and fumbled around on the seat for my cell phone with the other. It took a minute and then I felt the hard plastic backside. I picked it up and pressed the speed dial button for Nick and held it up to my ear. I waited for it to ring, but it didn’t make a sound, and it occurred to me that the keys weren’t lit up either. My phone was dead.

I didn’t want to lead my follower straight to my house especially if Nick wasn’t there so I turned down the road and headed toward the gas station. Once I got close enough I pulled over. I may not have remembered to charge my phone, but I always carried my gun.

The car behind me stopped and the driver’s side door opened. Someone got out. I shifted my body over to the passenger side of my car and opened the door and then slid out. I knelt on the ground and positioned my body so that I could watch the person approach. Five feet away, then four feet, and now three. In the glow of the light that illuminated from the gas station it looked like the silhouette of a woman. Her hands were stuffed inside her coat pocket.

“Alright, that’s far enough,” I said.

She stopped.

“Ms. Monroe?”

The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

“I know you’re following me, show yourself,” I said.

“It’s me.”

“Stop with the games,” I said. “Who are you?”

“It’s Bridget. Please, I need to talk to you.”

I stood up but kept to the side of my car. I needed to make sure.

“Let me see your hands,” I said.

She removed her hands from her jacket pocket and turned her palms up.

“Why the hell are you following me?” I said.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I called you, but it kept going to voicemail. I left you a ton of messages, but you didn’t call back. And then I saw your car back there and tried to get your attention, but you didn’t see me so I figured I would follow you. Not the best plan, I know.”

“You still haven’t told me why,” I said.

Her voice vibrated and I couldn’t tell if she was cold or nervous, or both.

“I didn’t know who else to call or what I should do.”

“About what?” I said.

“I left this morning to run some errands and when I got back to my place, someone had been in my apartment. Stuff was knocked off shelves, some of my personal items were broken, and all my files were scattered all over the floor. I took one look at it and I left. I drove around all day trying to figure out what I should do and that’s when I saw you.”

“Did they take anything?” I said.

“I didn’t stay long enough to find out.”

“Why would someone do that?”

I holstered my gun and walked toward her. Her eyes were bloodshot. I put my hand on her arm and she leapt backward.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I’ve been so jumpy today.” She looked at her hands. “I can’t stop shaking.”

“It’s alright,” I said. “Take your time.”

I reached out to her again, and this time she allowed it.

“I know where we can go,” I said.

She nodded.

“And Bridget,” I said, “I think it’s time you told me the truth.”

Bridget followed me back to my place. When we walked in, Lord Berkeley produced a high pitched signal to let her know she was a stranger and wasn’t welcome in his domain.

“Forgive him,” I said. “We don’t get many visitors. He’s only like this at home. At the office, anyone can walk through the door and he doesn’t care, but not here.”

She approached him and stretched out her hand. Boo moved closer to give her a more thorough inspection and then sniffed her hand and then her shoes. His teeth remained clenched and he growled.

Nick walked out from the bedroom.

“Oh Boo stop it,” he said.

Bridget flinched and looked in my direction.

“I, um, thought you said you lived alone.”

“Oh, I do. But I take in the occasional riff-raff from time to time.”

She wasn’t pleased.

Nick held out his hand.

“I’m Nick, and you are?”

She looked at his hand and then at me and with some reluctance, she moved her hand toward his.

“Bridget,” she said.

Nick glanced in my direction and tried to conceal the shocked look on his face. I stared back at him but said nothing. And I didn’t need to. For all the trouble I had with verbal communication, one look told him everything he needed to know. And right now I was nonverbally saying yes, she was
that
Bridget.

Bridget, who seemed more interested in the tiles on my floor than engaging Nick in any conversation, didn’t notice.

“If you two would excuse me, I think I’ll give you some girl time.”

“Don’t leave because of me,” Bridget said.

“He’s right,” I said to Bridget. “There’s a lot for us to talk about.”

“And I have a plane to catch.” He looked over at me. “You didn’t forget did you?”

“Of course not. It came up a lot faster than I thought it would.”

“I’ll be back before you have the chance to miss me.”

He looked at Bridget and said, “It was nice to meet you.”

She looked back and managed a forced smile.

Nick turned his attention to me.

“Walk me out?”

I walked through the door he held open for me and closed it behind me.

Once we were out of earshot he said, “How did she end up here?”

“Long story, I’ll tell you all about it later.”

“Give me the highlights.”

I did.

“Why would she come to you instead of filing a report with the police?”

“She’s afraid of whoever’s after her and she didn’t know where else to go.”

He rested his hands on my shoulders.

“The murder investigation is over, Sloane.”

“We don’t know that. Not after what Maddie found.”

“All she has is the word of a guy who got drunk and blurted out a bunch of comments that probably aren’t even true. It doesn’t change what’s in the report, and I’d be willing to bet if someone talked to this guy, he wouldn’t remember having the conversation at all.”

This was the part of our relationship that brought me to a standstill. His main priority in life was to protect me and that was noble, but I still had a job to do, and sometimes I felt he would rather I didn’t uncover the truth if it meant I put myself at risk.

“Whatever is going on with this girl, it doesn’t change anything,” he said. “What happened at her place might have something to do with the fact that she has a drug addict for a boyfriend. Maybe he trashed the place looking for cash.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And you don’t know it was any different. Let the cops deal with it.”

He kissed me goodbye and then got in the car and drove away.

Bridget sat on the sofa with her hand on Lord Berkeley when I entered. He had made peace with his new friend. I joined them.

“Look,” I said. “I need to know what’s going on.”

She glanced over to the side at nothing and remained silent.

“You want to know something?” I said. “I don’t believe Parker killed Charlotte. And you want to know something else; I don’t think my case is over yet. I don’t care how many people were fooled by the smoke and mirror routine at Parker’s house. And whether you help me or not, one way or another I will find out the truth.”

“It’s like I told you before, I don’t believe Parker killed Charlotte.”

“Do you know who did?” I said.

She shook her head in a rapid motion from one side to the other.

“Then what makes you say that?” I said.

“Because she told me.”

“Who told you, Charlotte?”

“She told me and now she’s dead.”

“Bridget, what did Charlotte tell you?” I said.

She rubbed her hands up and down her face.

“You’re safe here, you can talk to me,” I said.

Tears dotted the area around her eyes.

“Don’t you see? Charlotte found out and someone killed her. They killed her! And now they will come after me.”

She stood straight up and bolted for the front door.

“This was a mistake, I can’t stay here. I should go.”

I raced after her and caught her at the door.

“I want to help you,” I said.

“And when you do, someone will come after you too.”

“Let me worry about that. You came to me for a reason; don’t give up on me now.”

I convinced her to wait a few minutes and walked over to the kitchen.

“Here,” I said. “Drink this.”

After some time she calmed down and returned to the sofa.

“That night at the office party when you and Parker had an argument—”

“It’s not what you think.”

“What then?” I said.

“Parker hit on me.”

“He asked you out?”

“Worse. He sent me a disgusting photo on my phone and when I didn’t respond to it, he approached me at the party and asked me to come back to his place after it was over. He said he sent the photo so I could see what he was going to
give me
later.”

“That’s awful,” I said.

“Do you want to know the worst part? He was there with Charlotte and he actually thought I would consider it.”

“What did you tell him?” I said.

“I slapped him across the face and left.”

“Did you tell Charlotte?”

She nodded.

“Charlotte didn’t say a word to him at first. She hired a friend of hers to follow him and see what he’d been up to.”

“When you went back to the office the other day, what made you so upset?” I said.

“It was just being there. Everyone wanted to talk to me, and I just wanted to get out of there.”

“That makes sense,” I said.

“A couple months ago Charlotte got this wild hair and wanted to organize all of her files in the office. She asked me to create a spreadsheet to keep track of their sales.”

“Charlotte’s and Vicki’s?”

She nodded.

“I created a template for her and we started going back through all the transactions for the past year. I logged several of them and it was going fine, and then Charlotte came across a few files that didn’t add up.”

“How so?” I said.

“I’m not sure. She just said she needed to check on it and to save what we had already done and we would finish the rest later. She took a bunch of folders with her and told me to file the rest. So I did.”

“And she gave you no indication what the problem was?”

She shook her head.

“The night before she died she called me and said she decided to leave Park City and that her life was going in another direction. She sounded happy. Before we got off the phone she told me the next day she was meeting with the real estate board because she found out something about someone and she needed to do the right thing.”

“Did you ask her what it was?”

She nodded.

“Charlotte wouldn’t tell me. She said she didn’t want to involve me more than I needed to be. But there was one thing she made me promise her.”

“What was it?” I said.

“She asked me to stay away from the office until I heard from her. She wasn’t sure what would happen and she didn’t want me around just in case.”

I thought about the files I found at Charlotte’s house the night of my attack. Why hadn’t I realized their importance before?

“If only I could get my hands on the copies of those files,” I said.

Bridget reached into the front pocket of her jeans and pulled out a key ring. Two keys dangled from it.

“I can.”

I followed Bridget to Tommy’s apartment. He wasn’t home. She parked her car there and left it along with a note for Tommy that said not to worry and that she would be back soon. Then she got in the car with me.

The real estate office of Ellis & Marshall had vacated for the day. We drove to the adjacent grocery store and parked and waited. When we were the only people in the area, we made our move. Bridget explained to me on the way over that the manager of the office changed the locks every time someone left or was fired, which seemed like a waste of time in my book since all of the interior offices exhibited their own individual door locks, but that was the way of the world these days. With any luck, they hadn’t changed them yet.

We reached the door and Bridget inserted her key into the hole and turned it to the right. It clicked.

“It still works,” she whispered.

Inside, the TV played the same looped video montage. The light that emitted from the screen offered enough of a glow for us to descend the stairs far enough to round the corner. Once we were safely on the level below, I clicked on my flashlight.