Read Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 07 - Mucky Streak Online
Authors: Christy Barritt
Tags: #Christian Mystery: Cozy - Crime Scene Cleaner - Virginia
“Someone’s not telling the truth,” I said. “We just have to figure out who.”
We all exchanged glances. It was because we all knew that figuring out who would be the hardest thing of all.
“What’s your next plan of action?” Holly asked.
“Scientific theory would tell us to only test one variable at a time,” I mumbled.
“Who’s your variable?” the detective asked.
I sucked on my lip for a moment. Unless more implicating evidence turned up, I was going to choose to believe Garrett was innocent. I’d still stay on guard, though.
That left Vic Newport or Sebastian Royce. Both gave me a reason to pause. But Sebastian Royce gave me 10 million reasons.
CHAPTER
24
When the detective left, I turned toward Holly.
It was time to start ruling out some suspects, starting with Sebastian Royce.
There was only one person I could think of who could answer my questions. One person other than Sebastian
Royce himself, that is.
“Holly, c
an I have Kevin’s number?” I stood, stretched, and refilled my coffee.
“You can have it and you can keep it.” She grabbed her purse
from the table by the front door and plucked his card out. “Here you go.”
Without wasting time,
I grabbed my phone and dialed his number. His boss—Sebastian Royce—was supposedly still out of town, so I hoped to catch Kevin while he still felt like talking. Just as I was about to hang up, he answered.
“Kevin here.”
His voice sounded dull, unenthused.
“Kevin, my name is Gabby St. Claire. I’m a private investigator, and I was hoping to ask you a few questions.”
I jammed my hip against the kitchen counter and stared at Holly.
“Pertaining to …”
“Sebastian Royce.”
“I don’t think it would be in my best interest to answer those questions. Not if I value my job.”
“If you don’t answer my questions, I’ll simply tip off the police. You’ll be subpoenaed. Things can really get ugly then. Your answers will be public record. There’s no job security in that.”
He paused. “
I see how you’re playing this game. What do you want to know? My answers are dependent on your questions.”
I raised my cup of coffee.
“I’m investigating the murder of the Mercer family. You heard of their deaths?”
“Everyone has. What’s this have to do with
my boss?”
“I discovered he
borrowed a substantial amount of money from Edward Mercer. Some people believe Sebastian might have been so desperate for his business to succeed that he took out the whole Mercer family in order to not have to pay the money back.”
“That’s pretty desperate.”
“Ten million dollars desperate. Plus, there’s the fact that he’s known for his shooting skills.”
“There’s the fact that he
was
known for his shooting skills,” Kevin corrected.
My thoughts ground to a halt. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that Mr. Royce is legally blind. He can’t even drive anymore. He has a driver who takes him everywhere.”
I set my coffee back on the counter, stupefied.
“How long has that been the case?”
“
He had early onset of macular degeneration, beginning in his early thirties. It’s only gotten worse as the years have gone on.”
I did some quick calculations. The man was at least in his fifties now. That meant ten years ago, he was already considered legally blind. Sneaking to the Mercer’s house and shooting them with such precision would have nearly been impossible.
”
Something still wasn’t adding up in my mind.
“But he plays polo and golf,” I argued.
“No, he
watches
polo and golf. With someone. Who gives him commentary the whole time. He may even make unauthorized bets on the games sometimes, just to make his life more interesting. I say that off the record, of course.”
“He’s a gambler?”
“They don’t call him ‘Sebastian The
Rolls
Royce’ for no reason. Roll being the choice word here.”
“
Aside from gambling, I saw him checking his phone.” I clearly remembered him doing it that day at the country club.
“He’s got a special screen that makes the text bigger
. Plus, since he’s nearsighted he can see things up close a little better.”
That was a major hole in my story.
“Is someone with Mr. Royce now on his trip to Pennsylvania?”
“Pennsylvania? Why would you think he was there?”
I wanted to scream, “Because you told us!” Instead, I said, “I heard a rumor.”
“He is on a trip. But he’s having
eye surgery. He’s just telling people that he’s out of town on business because he doesn’t like people to feel sorry for him because of his condition. He said it would make others perceive him as weak.”
***
Holly and I sat on my bed as if we were two middle school girls at a slumber party. Only, instead of looking at pictures of celebrities in gossip magazines and painting our nails, we poured over crime scene photos. Bloody crime scene photos.
Kevin had given me the name of a hospital and doctor where Sebastian was supposedly having this surgery. I looked up the
information, and everything looked legit.
It appeared that Kevin was telling the truth. That meant that Sebastian
Royce could be ruled out.
“I guess we can move on to Vic Newport,” I muttered.
“I just have to figure out a motive.”
“
Maybe he found out that Olivia was pregnant and went to confront Garrett. Only Garrett wasn’t there. Maybe things escalated, she said with a touch of soap opera drama to her voice.”
I shook my head.
“There’s no sign that things escalated. The whole crime scene was pretty cut and dry.”
A bre
eze floated through the room—drafty windows, I’d discovered on my first night here—and I shivered. The chill caused something to click in my mind.
I
grabbed the photos and found the ones from Cassidy’s room.
It was just a hunch, but …
I pulled out my laptop.
“What are you doing?” Holly asked.
“I’ve got to check something. I promise I’ll explain it all in a moment.” I found a website that showed the weather in different parts of the country throughout the past several decades. I typed in Cincinnati, OH, November 12, ten years ago.
It was a cold day. Like, a really cold day, even by Ohio standards. Twelve degrees
Fahrenheit.
This
could be nothing … but it could be something. I had to know.
I picked up the phone. “I need to call the detective.”
I found his number in my “Recent Calls,” and hit SEND. He picked up on the third ring.
“Detective, this is Gabby. I’m looking at some of the crime scene photos from the Mercer family murders. I know it’s been ten years, but I have a question about something I’m seeing.”
“I’ll do my best to remember.”
“
Cassidy’s room.” I stared at the picture, trying to put the horrors out of my mind. “Was there any confirmation that the killer got in through her window and that Cassidy died first?”
“When the crime scene was reconstructed, that was the conclusion of the team of investigators.”
“Detective, Garrett told me that his sister always liked the room cold. She loved getting bundled up under blankets and with slippers. He said she always cracked the window open, even in the winter. I realize that the order of their deaths was determined by the coroner. She tested their body temperature, rigor mortis, and entomology—the study of bugs.”
“I know that, Gabby.”
“Sorry. Anyway. It was below freezing that day. If Cassidy’s window was open when she died, it would have slowed down the process of rigor mortis. The coroner would have wrongly assumed based on all the given factors that Cassidy Mercer died first.”
“You’re thinking like a detective. But even if you’re right—how does that help us?”
I stared at the crime scene photos, my thoughts percolating. “What if Edward Mercer knew the killer? What if he let them inside? That would explain how the alarm system was bypassed.”
I held my breath. Did the former detective
hate my theory? Think it was stupid?
“I think you could be on to something, Gabby.”
I released my breath. “Really?”
“Yes, really. In fact, here’s what I’ll do. I’ll make a few calls, see what I can find out.
I’ve already talked to someone about those offshore accounts.”
“Sounds great.”
“Good work, Gabby. I’ll be in touch.”
CHAPTER 25
After lu
nch, Jamie stopped by and told me she got another hit on her website. It was from someone claiming to be a good friend of Cassidy Mercer’s when they were in high school. Though I truly believed Edward Mercer was the target of this case, I still wanted to meet with this friend of Cassidy’s and find out her take on the Mercer family.
Holly and
Jamie asked if they could go with me.
“
The MOD Squad,” Jamie reminded me.
The company—and the additional sets of eyes and ears—sounded like a good idea.
Holly drove us in her Mustang across the river to Kentucky. We pulled to a stop in front of a house that could rival Garrett’s childhood home. Everything about it was big, from the porch to the columns to the massive trees in the backyard.
Before we even rang the doorbell, Tess
Windsor answered. She was everything I’d imagined her to be—and more. She was pretty, skinny and stuck up—I could tell by the way she assessed us as she opened the door. She must not have approved, because she frowned before inviting us in from the gray, dreary weather outside.
“I’m glad you could come,” she muttered.
I’d asked Holly and Jamie to let me do most of the talking. “Thanks for getting in touch.”
“I probably won’t be
much help.” She frowned, already appearing bored and nonchalant.
“You never know,” I tried to assure her.
She led us past a massive entryway and into a formal living room. We all sat stiffly on the equally as stiff couch there while Tess sat in a wing-backed chair across from us. Something about the situation felt awkward. Was it Tess’s lack of hospitality? Or the fact that three of us had shown up? Both?
“So, you were
Cassidy’s best friend,” I started.
She nodded. “That’s right. We were b
est friends from the time she moved into the area and started going to school with me.”
“Did you know
Marty?” Marty had an alibi on the night of the murders, but I wanted to get more insight on the relationship. Leave no stone unturned—or uncleaned. That’s what I always said.
“Yeah, I knew him.”
Uh oh. This was going to be one of those conversations where I had to pull every answer out of Tess. I already felt exhausted.
“What did you think of him?”
I prompted.
She shrugged. “He was okay. I thought she could do better, but
Cassidy seemed to either love him or hate him.”
I tap
ped my pen on my notepad. “What do you mean?”
“They were either madly in love or they were fighting.”
She examined her manicured fingernails, appearing not
just
bored but
extravagantly
bored. “They had that kind of relationship, if you know what I mean.”
“Do you think
Marty would have killed her?” I didn’t, but I wanted her take on it.
She snorted. “No way. They may have fought, but
Marty really loved her.”
“Even if he was drugged up?”
Jamie asked. “Drugs make people go wacko. They make wacko people go even more wacko. I know that firsthand.”
I wondered what that meant. I’d have to ask later.
Tess shook her head, her smooth hair slapping her cheeks. “Maybe he would have killed her parents so they wouldn’t keep them apart. But no way would he hurt Cassidy. No way.”
“
Maybe Marty resented Cassidy,” I said. “After all, she was the one who got him into drugs and look at where he is today. His addictions have ruined his life. I could see Marty thinking that Cassidy, in essence, destroyed him. He lost his scholarship. He’s living at home with his parents now and apparently doesn’t have a job.”
Tess shrugged. “Maybe now he feels that way. But back then, he didn’t. Cassidy had him under he
r spell.”
I had the same impression. So I needed to change my approach an
d explore another possibility.
Before I could, Holly jumped in.
“What was Cassidy’s home life like?”
She sounded just like a social worker doing a home study. I’d bet she was good at her job.
She was calm, caring, and determined.
“Her
parents let her do whatever she wanted. They were never around to stop her. I think she wanted their attention. I told her she was lucky—she could get away with a lot.”
“I take it you were one of her partying friends.”
Part of Marty Mart and his funky bunch. In fact, I’d bet Tess was still a partier and that she lived off of her daddy’s money. That was the vibe she gave off.
“We liked to have a good time. Why not? There was nothing stopping us.
We were young and foolish.”
I needed to get this back around to Edward Mercer.
“Did she mention any family problems?”
Tess gave up on examining her nails and now studied
the tips of her hair. “Her mom and dad argued quite a bit. I guess her dad was pretty uptight with his new job.”
That was the first
I’d heard of that. Everyone I’d spoken with had said Edward was a model employee. “Did she say why he was uptight?”
“I’m sure
Cassidy didn’t know or care. Her dad wasn’t the kind to talk about work too much, unless he wanted to gloat about his accomplishments.” She scowled at a split end.
“But
Cassidy thought something was going on? Otherwise, why did she mention it?” I pressed. I really wished the woman would make eye contact. This only seemed to drive home the point that she was self-absorbed.
“She said he’d been more uptight than usual latel
y. He was snappy, distracted, always having private phone conversations. Stuff like that.”
From the email on the website, I’d had the impression
Tess wanted to talk. Speaking with her now, it seemed the opposite. It was time to call her out. “Is there any particular reason you wanted to meet with us, Tess?”
She looked away from her
hair and frowned. She let out a long breath and rubbed her lips together. She’d been trying to act aloof, I realized. But her friend’s death had affected her more than she probably ever let on to those around her. I wasn’t sure why she wanted to maintain an image around us, though.
“I’ve never forgotten
that night,” she whispered. “We were all supposed to go to a party. But her parents laid down the law. Any other time, she could come and go as she pleased. But that night, they wanted her home. And for no apparent reason, other than the fact that they wanted to talk to her and Garrett about something.”
Maybe we were finally on to something.
“Did she have any theories why?”
Tess rubbed her hands on her jeans.
“No idea. She thought maybe her parents were going to announce they were getting divorced or maybe that one of them was sick with cancer. She had no idea. She hoped they would say they were moving back to England. She said she liked it when her dad didn’t work so much. That hadn’t happened since they moved to America.”
I stored away the new information. Very interesting.
“Is there anything else you can think of? Anyone who acted strangely around Cassidy?” Sometimes that final, open-ended question brought about the best answers.
She
looked to the side in thought. “This is probably nothing. But I know there was this guy who had a crush on her. Some times, he kind of gave her the creeps.”
My adrenaline started to bubble. “Who was he?”
“His name was …” She shook her head. “I can’t remember. She called him the Silent One. All I remember is that her family and a couple of families from her dad’s work used to take vacations together. Like, extravagant vacations, even by my standards. I think they rented an entire Caribbean island once. One of the guys from those trips was always watching her.”
My spine clinched. Watching
her? That, of course, made me think of the Watcher. It also made me think of that beach picture I’d seen in Cassidy’s room. Was the Silent One in that photo? “What else can you remember?”
“I want to say he wasn’t
a direct family member, but he was on the fringe somehow. He could have even worked for the vacationing families, for all I know. Something always seemed a little off about him. I remember something about his mom having a disability. Maybe mental? Maybe she was in a home? I know this is all vague.”
“No, it’s helpful,” I insisted.
That seemed to encourage her, because she kept talking.
“Cassidy used to always say that
the Silent One should get together with The Clingy One. It was some girl who liked her brother.”
“I guess when you’re rich and beautiful, everyone likes you,” Jamie muttered.
“That’s not always a blessing,” Tess whispered. “Everyone wants to use you is more like it.”
“If you think of anything else, let us know,” I encouraged.
Tess nodded. “I will. I probably wasn’t much help. No one really takes me very seriously.”
I could give her some advice in that area, starting with
:
Stop examining your nails and hair
. But I didn’t.
“Y
ou were great,” I said instead. And she had offered some interesting information. “Thank you.”
We walked back to the car.
I wanted to rehash everything with the girls, but before I could, my phone cried for my attention. I didn’t recognize the number, which always set me on edge.
I hit the speaker
button, but before I said anything, the caller spoke. “Hello, Gabby.”
The Watcher.
I didn’t waste time with formalities. “You were responsible last night, weren’t you? That chlorine leak was no accident.”
“
There were a lot of bad people there. People who only think of themselves. They need to pay. I just wanted to give them a taste of their own medicine. The resulting fire wasn’t supposed to happen.”
I exchanged glances with Holly and Jamie, who were both riveted on the conversation.
“Why not just shoot me? Why put those other people in danger?”
“That’s not the way this works.
It wasn’t about you last night. It was about making a statement.”
I shook my head
, trying to figure out what this guy was thinking. “That makes no sense.”
“I determine what makes sense.”
Maybe it was time to stop playing nicely. “Well, you’re delusional. Why do you keep giving me these warnings? What kind of game are you playing?”
“My ways are not yours to question.”
“You have a God complex or something?” My words were tinged with anger. I was tired of playing and being played.
“Life and death are in my hands
, whether I like it or not.”
Something about his statement didn’t sit right with me, but I didn’t have time to examine it at the moment.
“Why not just leave this be? Why continue the killing? You could have just disappeared, like you have been for the last ten years. But instead you come out now. You put yourself at risk.”
“I wish I could stop.”
His voice seemed to soften.
I decided to take a risk.
I remembered what Tess had said about the Silent One from those family trips. She’d mentioned something about his mom suffering some kind of illness. “How’s your mom doing?”
He paused for just a millisecond.
“My mom? What does she have to do with any of this?”
“I heard that she wasn’t well.” Maybe if I fished for answers, he’d take the bait. Could this be the same man who
m Tess had mentioned? Someone who’d had a crush on Cassidy? Who was somehow connected with Wimbledon Pharmaceuticals?
“Leav
e my mom out of this,” he barked. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
My pulse spiked. Could this be what I was looking for?
“Did Cassidy reject you? Because, if she did, that wasn’t very nice. But you really need to get over it. We all get rejected.” Riley’s face flashed through my mind.
“
You’re asking too many questions.” His voice rose with emotion. “Don’t get me in trouble. Watch your back. I’m not done with you yet, Ms. St. Claire.”
The line went dead.
I turned and glanced at Holly and Jamie. Their faces had gone slack, but their eyes certainly reflected mine.
We were on to something and that was enough to get excited about.
“I think you struck a nerve,” Jamie muttered.
“Maybe this conversation with Tess was just the turning point we needed. We
have to find out who went on those vacations. I’m going to talk to Garrett, see what he remembers.”
“You feel comfortable being near him?” Holly asked.