Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 07 - Mucky Streak (24 page)

CHAPTER
30

Garrett reached inside and
his hand emerged with a wad of cash. And then another. And another.

“That’s a lot of money,” I muttered.

There were blocks and blocks of hundred dollar bills. “There are thousands of dollars in here.”

Even Garrett, who had a lot of money, seemed in awe.

“Why would your dad keep money here?” I asked. “Certainly he had accounts.”

“Beats me.”
Garrett pulled out some papers, his eyes widening as he studied the contents. “Offshore accounts. Worth millions. Where did he get this money?”

“Maybe it was your mom’s?”

He shook his head. “No, my mom kept a tight rein on her money. It was all in her name, even. She insisted on buying the house and keeping it in her name. She said something about her parents advising her to do that.”

“How’d your dad feel about that?”

Garrett shrugged. “Not sure, but I can imagine it wasn’t a great premise to have in their marriage.”

I nodded toward the safe, resisting the urge to reach into it myself. “There’s more.”

Garrett pulled out a box and, holding it against his chest, opened it up. Passports were inside, along with awards, resumes, and driver’s licenses.

His family’s pictures graced the covers, but  …

“That’s not your name,” I blurted, pointing to one of the licenses.

Garrett looked at me. “I have no idea what this
means, Gabby. My father has fake driver’s licenses, not only for himself, but also for the rest of the family. Passports. Offshore accounts. Tons of cash.”

“H
e was planning to run. Maybe that’s what he wanted to talk to you about. I mean, look at the dates on this resume. It says his last job ended the week before he died.”

Garrett sunk down on the floor, still staring
at the information in the box. “I just don’t understand. Why would he run?”

“Did he get himself in trouble? Witness protection? Maybe he had to testify against someone at the drug company who’d done something illegal?”

“I have no idea.”

Before I could second guess myself,
I slid down onto the floor beside him and squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, Garrett.”

He nodded. “
Me too.”

I pi
cked up a resume and studied it a moment. “Garrett, according to this resume, your dad’s last job wasn’t at Wimbledon. It was at a company called Dermott Technologies. I’ve never even heard of that company.”

Garrett took the paper from me. “What? This makes no sense.”

“Maybe he was creating a new identity for himself. Maybe he needed to cover up parts of his past.”

“Why?”

I shook my head. “I’ll do my best to wade through all of this. My next question is: Are you sure you’re prepared for the answers?”

***

“We need to call the police.”

Garret
t shook his head. “Not yet. Please. Just give me a day. Let me try and figure out what was going on.”

I stared at him. I saw the pain in the depths of his eyes. I saw the suspicions that somehow his father was betraying his family by keeping secrets—big secrets. I tried to put myself in his shoes.

“A day,” I finally told him. The investigation wasn’t ongoing, but I didn’t want to impede anything.

I knew
Garrett worried that this information would somehow make his father look bad, and that he wanted to do his own research first. I really hoped this wasn’t his way of trying to cover up something—like his own guilt in this.

We’d moved downstairs in front of the fire, and we’d brought everything from the safe with us. I also pulled out Cassidy’s pictures.
All the information was spread out on the coffee table. Garrett and I sat beside each other on the couch, each mulling over our thoughts.

“Can we talk this through?” I finally asked.

Garrett nodded, still looking more somber than I’d ever seen him. “Why not?”

“Okay.” I crossed my legs and sucked in a deep breath. “I still believe that this is somehow tied in
with your family’s vacations, which always included people from his work. That means that Wimbledon Pharmaceuticals could somehow be connected.”

“Remind me why you think that again? My head feels like it might burst right now.”

“That’s based on a couple of things, including my conversation with Tess. I also heard hints that your father hadn’t been very happy at work. What if your dad was a whistleblower?”

Garrett shook his head. “He wouldn’t have run from something like that.”

“Okay. Let’s talk about the Watcher then. When I hinted that his involvement in this had something to do with his mom, he sounded like I was right. You said Smith Wimbledon’s mom was sick.”

Garrett dragged his eyes up to me
et mine. “You really think Smith Wimbledon would do this? He was just a teenager when my family was murdered.”

“I think that the Watcher is being manipulated by someone.
What if Smith is being blackmailed to do this, some way?”

Garrett shook his head again. “I just don’t see it.”

“What about Vic Newport? His wife battled with drug addiction. She’s been in and out of rehab. Could someone have been blackmailing him?”

“I just have trouble seeing any of those people taking the time to follow you around and warn you to stay out of trouble. People at the office would notice if
Smith or Vic didn’t come to work. Besides, who’s the one really pulling the strings?”

“I wish I knew. I have to figure out how the P.I.s somehow tie into this. I mean, why was Bradley Perkins shot now? He’s not even on the case anymore.” I rested my head in my hands, feeling a headache coming on.

“I’d offer to rub your shoulders,” Garrett started.

I shook my head. “Tempting, but better not.”

The less he touched me, the better.

“Don’t say I didn’t offer.”

“I hope you didn’t hire me to no avail.”

He patted my knee. “You’ve made more progress than anyone I hired. I’d say that was a success.”

“Success to me is finding a killer.”

Admiration sparkled in his eyes. “And that’s just one more reason I hired you. Tenacity. And you’re really nice to look at in the process.”

“You’re a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

He shrugged. “
Nothing wrong with surrounding myself with beauty.”

I remembered everyone at his company. From his receptionist to his assistant, I had no doubt his words were true. “There are not-so-attractive people who could add value to your company.”

Before he could respond, my phone screamed. I answered on the first ring, hoping it was Morrison calling with another update. Maybe even hoping it was Riley calling from a different phone number.

“You’re a busy girl.”

It was the Watcher. I mouthed the words to Garrett. He scooted closer and put his ear to the phone.

“I like to call myself productive,” I retorted.

“Ask your friend Garrett how he liked the chlorine at his gala.”

I glanced at Garrett, whose eyebrows were knotted together on his forehead.

“What are you talking about?” I questioned.

“He should know. He should remember.”

“I thought you just did that to prove to some rich people that they weren’t all that.” Wasn’t that what he’d said when I’d left Tess’s house?

“The chlorine was on purpose. But I’d bet you Garrett was too into himself
to remember what happened. I, on the other hand, can’t forget.”

I looked at Garrett again. He shook his head, looking clueless.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” the Watcher continued.

“Why? Why don’t you want to hurt me? I don’t understand.”

“I have my reasons.”

“Why don’t you tell me what they are? Help me to understand you.”

He was silent before chuckling. “You think you’re going to get me that easily? You just want to profile me. Figure out who I am.”

“Certainly telling
me
why
I’m
still alive won’t reveal too much about
you
.”

Silenced stretched a moment.
I waited, restraining my tongue, giving him a moment to speak.

“No one else was s
upposed to be there that night,” he finally said. “At least, that’s what I heard.”

“Edward Mercer was the target, wasn’t he?” I asked. I hated to say the words in front of Garrett, but I had to know.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It keeps getting bigger. I’m tired of this game, Gabby.”

I gripped the phone even tighter.
“Then why not end it?”

“For reasons you’ll never understand.” He almost sounded defeated.

“If you tell me
, I will.”

“I’m not the one pulling the strings here. None of this is my choice. But now I’m a scapegoat.
You need to tell Garrett that no one close to him is safe.”

My lungs tightened. I glanced at Garrett and saw his eyebrows furrowed together in worry.

“Why hurt innocent people?” I asked.

“It’s complicated. And it doesn’t matter. Whatever happens, t
he police will think everything is my fault.”

This guy seemed to be having some kind of break down or crisis of conscience. He sounded like he wanted out but was trapped.

“I can tell them it wasn’t.”

“It’s too late for all of that.”
Silence stretched again. “You remind me of my mom, you know. She’s the reason I ever got involved. I had to help her.”

“Your mom, huh?”
I straightened, feeling like we were getting somewhere.

“She has hair like yours. It’s red and curly.”

“I think it’s wise that you’re honoring your mom, then.” I was oh-so-grateful to have red hair at the moment. It was actually a lifesaver. I never thought I’d think that. “Why target P.I.s and not the police? Can you tell me that?”

While he was opening up, maybe I could get more information out of him.

“For years, no one connected the P.I.s. They were expendable. I had to … I had to take care of my mom. If I go to prison, she’ll have no one.”

“But people would have noticed a pattern if you’d killed the police officers.” I nodded. That made sense, in a twisted kind of way, at least.
“Why not stay in hiding?”

“
My isolation is being threatened. That urged me to action. He keeps trying to pull me back in. I keep telling him I can’t do it.”

“Who’s he?”

“He’s—” Something rattled in the background. “What the … ?”

“What’s going on
?” I asked, against my better judgment.

“Hold on a second.”

Hold on a second? What kind of psycho mass murderer said things like that?

Over the phone line, I heard something rattle. Then, I heard a clatter, almost as if the phone had dropped to the floor.

“You? You were the one behind this all of this time?” the Watcher mumbled. His voice sounded far off and muted. “What are you doing here?”

Then I clearly heard
a gunshot.

The silence afterward had my blood curdling.

CHAPTER
31

Garrett and I were up for most of the night. Thankfully, he had a
never-ending supply of coffee at the cabin. We both probably downed ten cups. We were living both on caffeine and adrenaline and the reckless hope that the answers were in our grasp.

After the phone call, we’d alert
ed both the police and Morrison. Two detectives, three officers, and Detective Morrison had shown up at Garrett’s cabin. We’d had no choice but to explain everything, including the fact that someone had been murdered while I heard it all over the phone.

The
Watcher
had been murdered.

This case just continued to get more and more twisted.

Yes, the noose was tightening and the stakes were becoming more deadly by the minute.

Since I hadn’t hung up the phone
and neither had the Watcher, the police were attempting to trace the call. Maybe we had a chance.

I didn’t know what had happened, but I had a feeling
the Watcher really was dead.

But who would have killed him?
Had there been another person pulling the strings? Working with him? Had this other person decided the Watcher was too much of a risk and expendable?

Nothing made sense at the moment.

At 3 a.m., the detectives thought they’d successfully traced the number and they were closing in on a location.

By 6 a.m.
, we got the news that the police had discovered a body.

There was a
n unsigned suicide note, but I knew this man’s death was no suicide. In his supposed note, he’d owned up to the Mercer family murders. Said he was rejected by Cassidy. That didn’t match what he’d told me, though. He’d said
he
was a scapegoat.

The police had found his phone. He must have dropped it and it had been kicked under the couch. The killer
probably hadn’t known it was there.

What the police were still trying to figure out was who the man was. He had no identification on him. His truck was stolen. The house where he’d been wasn’t his; he’d br
oken in while the owners vacationed down in Florida for the winter.

By 8 a.m., one of the lead detectives came back. He held up a picture and showed Garrett and me. “You recognize this man?”

As soon as I saw the picture, I gasped. “That’s the caterer. He was at the gala on Friday. He’s the one I saw whispering to Smith Wimbledon.”

How had I not recognized him? Then I remembered that the driver of the limo had a goatee and glasses, as well as a hat pulled over his eyes. When he’d confronted me in the back of the vehicle, he’d donned a mask
, as well. When I’d seen the man in his catering uniform in the alley, he’d changed clothes and ditched the facial hair. He hadn’t looked a bit familiar.

I’d thought the man was trying to warn Smith about me and the supposed drugs I’d been doing. But what if the two were just conspiring about the murder?

Garrett peered over my shoulder. “I know him from somewhere else.” Suddenly, he squeezed his eyes shut. “I know where now. He was Reginald Jr. Wimbledon’s nephew. I think his name was Skip. His mother has been in a mental hospital for years, so this guy would come on vacations with the Wimbledons. He was from Reginald Wimbledon Jr.’s wife’s side of the family, and they weren’t wealthy. He was treated like a black sheep and always kind of an outsider.”

The Silent One.
Skip was the Silent One.

The detective
jotted down everything. “Anything else you can think of?”

Garrett pinched the skin between his eyes. “
How could I have not seen this? One summer, there was a chlorine incident at the indoor pool while we were on vacation. I haven’t thought of it in years. We were at a resort, and a woman died from inhaling too much of the chlorine fumes when the tanks were improperly installed. I didn’t know the woman; I just remember it was a tragedy. I can’t imagine what it would have to do with this case, though.”

“Anything else you can remember about Skip?” I asked.

“I’m pretty sure he joined the army after high school. I never saw him again after that.”

The detective’s jaw hardened. “I hope to have some answers soon. In the meantime, you two are free to go.
I’ll need you guys to keep this quiet for a while. No media leaks, not until we know more.”

“No problem here.”

Then I remembered Jamie’s meeting at Wimbledon today. We needed to cancel. But if I suggested that, Jamie would know that something was going on.

I knew I should feel
relief at the start of a resolution to the case, but I didn’t. There was still something I was missing.

Someone had shot that man
.

The questions were: Who and why?

***

Garrett
dropped me off at the Paladins’ and decided to head back to his apartment, just in case the police needed him for anything.

Without saying too much, I’d explained to Holly that there had been a development in the case that
I was ordered not to talk about. Before I could call Jamie, she showed up. But from the way she stood with excitement dancing in her eyes, something was up. She charged inside. “My interview was canceled.”

Holly and I glanced at each other before following after her. She went straight for the kitchen and began pacing.

“Did they say why it was canceled?” I asked.

“They didn’t say anything, but thanks to my police scanner, I know
the scoop.” A satisfied smile stretched across her face.

I crossed my arms. “What’s going on?”

“Smith Wimbledon is missing.”

My mouth dropped open. “What?”

She nodded. “It’s true. He never showed up at work today and his family said he’s been gone since last night.”

Had he disappeared to elude police? Or had
the same person who’d taken out the Watcher taken out Smith, as well? I really wished I could share more details with Holly and Jamie, but I couldn’t.

“The police are looking for him now,” Jamie continued. “In the meantime, I decided to do a stakeout yesterday.”

“A stakeout?” Had I heard her correctly? This girl was hardcore.

She nodded, as if it were no big deal. “I knew you were all wrapped up in Garrett Mercer.”

“Busy
investigating
with him. Wrapped up has a different connotation,” I corrected.

“And Holly was resting
. So I went by myself.”

“Did you find out anything?” I questioned.

“Interestingly enough, Vic Newport went to Smith Wimbledon’s place at eleven last night. He looked rather anxious.”

I blinked with surprise. “Is that right?”

Jamie nodded. “He left after an hour and then he drove around on some back roads for what felt like hours. A little past midnight, I lost him. I don’t know where he went.”

“You didn’t see him leave with anyone, right? Smith didn’t leave with him?” I asked.

“No, Smith didn’t leave with him,” Jamie said. “But something’s going on.”

My thoughts exactly. Just what had
Vic Newport been doing last night? Had he found Skip and killed him?

Just then
, the doorbell rang.

“Someone’s supposed to deliver some papers for my mom,” Holly explained.

“You look tired,” I told her. “I’ll answer for you.”

When
I pulled the door open, I spotted Vic Newport standing on the porch, sweat sprinkling his forehead.

Where was my gun when
I needed it?