Death in Her Eyes (A Mac Everett Mystery Book 1) (25 page)

“Hold on,” I demanded. “I’m on the side of the angels, remember?”

“I’m sorry,” Ashton said. “That poor woman was cheated out of her job and her boss got away with it.”

“What was it, a settlement?”

“It was a directed verdict with a big cash award.”

“Captain, you seem to have a good handle on this situation,” the General said. “I was wrong about you. My daughter has suggested I offer you a position. Drop this investigation. Let the legal team take care of Cary.”

“Yes, sir, if that’s the way you want it,” I replied. “I can have my files to Mr. Barber the first of the week.”

“Good man. You’ve done a four-oh job on this mess. I owe you,” he said.

“Thank you, general,” I replied.

“Let’s talk about this job,” he said.

I knew it was another payoff.

Watching the dynamics between Ashton and her father had left me with an uneasy feeling. I saw trouble in both their faces, and in their eyes. I heard it in their voices, and in the things they didn’t say. My intuition told me they were both lying. What I didn’t know was whether it was to me or to each other. The general’s job offer was tempting. I’d be his chief of security, which meant I’d sit around and wait for something bad to happen. I would live on the estate, have access to a car, it was a sweet deal. I asked some questions and generally shot the breeze trying to get a better feel for the old man and his daughter.

I said I’d think about it while I cleared up the murder investigation files and promised to turn everything over to Ward Barber. I had a bit of a drive to Bradenton so I made an excuse to leave, but didn’t tell them where I was going. I wasn’t dropping the case. I still had more questions than answers.

I got on the phone to Marco as soon as I cleared the Live Oak House gate.

“Hey Mac,” he said when he answered the phone. “What are you up to?”

“Working as usual, Marco,” replied.

“Hey Mac, why don’t you come over,” he said. “My grandson is up from Miami and we’re sitting by the pool. I’d like you to meet him.”

“I’d love to, but I’m working. I just came from seeing my client.” I replied.

“How did it go?”

“A mixed bag, Marco, he offered me a job.”

“Wow that’s great,” he responded. 

“Not really, it feels like a payoff to drop the case.”

“You’re kidding. He’s involved?”

“Either him or his daughter. They’re both hiding something.”

“Your sixth sense again?”

“Yep.”

There was a long pause, and then he spoke again. “You’re not…”

“I’m not what?”

“You’re not getting involved with that Hunt babe are you? I hear she’s a knockout”

“She is and its past tense, buddy, I
was
getting involved.”

“You don’t need any advice about women from me, but it’s no good getting your honey where you make your money.”

I laughed and thanked him for the advice. “Where were you a week ago?” I asked. “Look can you check something for me?”

“Mac, not today!” he pleaded.

“I need you buddy. What do you know about a Luck Taylor?” I asked.

“I knew him. I was sorry to hear what happened. That’s a bad way to die,” he said. “Word is his bosses in New York caught him with his fingers in the till. I don’t believe that.”

“I think you’re right,” I said. “Do you have a pipeline to his people? Giving them some good information might get you in good with them.”

“Mac, you don’t want to kick that hornet’s nest,” he said. “Those are some bad people.”

“I don’t think his employers had him killed. It’s connected to this mess I’ve been working. Can you get a word to the right people? I think Mrs. Hunt was into them for a bundle. Can you find out how much, and if any of the other people we’ve been looking at owe them money?”

“All I can do is ask Mac,” he said. “Are you looking for anybody in particular?”

“You have that list of people I’m working on, don’t you?”

“I sure do,” he said.

“When you talk to them let them know that information is just for me, no cops. I need to know if anyone involved in this case owed them big.”

“I’ll do what I can. Where can I reach you?”

“Just call my cell phone. I’m heading out of town to do an interview.”

“I’ll call you when I learn something,” he said.

North Bradenton was a little over three hours from Orlando, but only fifty minutes away from the Hunt compound. The GPS took me down a series of wooded county roads through Haines City, Lake Alfred, Auburndale, and skirted Lakeland until I picked up I-4 West northeast of Tampa. I had plenty of time to think and plenty of suspects to consider. I didn’t like any of the possibilities. I had high hopes my interview with Dr. Nancy Cameron would provide the answers that seemed just beyond my reach.

From I-4 West I merged onto I-75 and headed south. Not long after I crossed the Manatee River I located the Cracker Barrel on State Road 64. I was two hours early so I decided to kill some time and the local library was just the place. An idea had come to me while I was on the road. The Tom Tom put me on a path to the Manatee County Library. The closest branch was on 53 Avenue East and a few minutes later I was sitting at a computer in a large reading room surrounded by homeless guys and senior citizens.

I wasn’t sure what I’d find, but I hoped it wouldn’t be what I feared. There was not much on the internet about crime during the Viet Nam war, but there were two references to the Nha Trang serial killer. Both mentioned the Eighteenth Military Police Brigade and then Major Martin Hunt, but only one included the detail I wanted. With a heavy sigh, I printed the wiki article. I paid my $2.00 for the printing and headed back to the parking lot feeling a bit lost. 

The Cracker Barrel was tucked in between a boarded up auto parts store and a no tell motel. There was a Home Depot across the street surrounded by some small stores and a cluster of fast food joints, all of which were busy with early evening traffic. I was still early, so I had time for some coffee and a couple eggs.

At five forty-five on the dot, a tall slender Asian woman with long shiny black hair pulled back in a smooth ponytail appeared in the dining room entrance and looked around. Dressed in black yoga pants, a mint green short-sleeved top and matching running shoes she looked phenomenal. Even the elderly rednecks turned to watch her come through the door. She was the slimmest person in the place.

I stood, waved, and offered my hand as she approached the table, “Dr. Cameron?”

The woman nodded, but didn’t smile. Her handshake was tentative.

“I’m Mac Everett,” I said as I handed her a business card. “Won’t you have a seat?”

Before she could sit down my waitress, Verna, was hovering, “Coffee sweetie?” she said. “Do you need a menu?”

“Just coffee, please,” she said smiling at Verna. Turning back to me she said, “Apologies for the way I’m dressed. I’m going to the gym after this. I work out every day after work.”

This woman looked like she lived at the gym. She was a slim small breasted woman, as are many Asians, but her figure was killer. Her skin was light brown and smooth. Her dark expressive doe-like eyes were oval, like her face, and set wide apart while her nose was short and upturned. Her smile was serene, but tense.

“No problem. You told me that was your plan,” I said. “I appreciate you meeting me.”

When the waitress was out of earshot she leaned forward conspiratorially said, “Do you have some identification? I can’t be too careful.”

“Sure, no problem, here’s my PI ticket.” I pulled out a laminated wallet sized copy of my private investigator’s license and showed her my driver’s license too.

“Thanks. I’m a bit nervous about all this.”

“I understand Dr. Cameron, but there’s no need,” I said, trying to reassure her.

“I wondered if anyone would call me,” she said.

She crossed her legs and immediately began taping her foot on the floor.

“I’m here now. I want to hear what you have to say,” I said. “May I call you Nancy?”

“Sure, and your first name is…”

“Mac, please call me Mac,” I said.

I felt I was on track. You always want to empathize with the subject to open an interview. I sensed Dr. Cameron relaxing a little, but her body language was sending mixed signals. She was playing a role. I focused on the triangle formed by her eyes and forehead where I’d see the facial cues. I didn’t have long to wait. As she began to talk, her eyes looked to the right time and time again. She was formulating a story and the lie was going to be a whopper.

“When I won that judgment the press said it was about the money. I felt bad because several people lost their jobs,” she said. “I’d lost my job too, along with my reputation, it was just terrible.”

Her words sounded true, but they didn’t feel right.

“You filed in Federal court, doctor, ah Nancy, so I don’t have access to the particulars. Can you fill me in?” I said. “What’s it all about?”

Gentle coaxing, I was right in a rhythm.

“You want to know about my lawsuit? I thought you were here about the embezzlement.”

I could have done a better job of hiding my surprise, but I covered it by intentionally bumping my water glass and catching it before it spilled. Verna appeared with the doctor’s cup of coffee and a pot to heat up mine. It was enough time for me to recover.

“That and other things,” I said confidently. “Remind me how much was involved,” I interjected.

“I’ve no idea how much it was in total. I had $9 million in grants and there were probably a dozen other researchers in the place. When it came out there was mismanagement, the funding sources started to dry up.”

Her eyes flicked repeatedly to the right. She was fabricating this story.

“Do you have an idea what may have happened?” I asked.

“I believe the director cooked the books,” she replied. “We had sailed through audits in the past. There was no problem before she took over. We had patents and research grants coming in all the time. Her dark eyes flashed with indignation. “Mine was one of the biggest grant accounts. When it came up short, she blamed it on me.”

“Did you ask for an independent audit?”

“I was going to, but… well Dr. Greer ordered me not to. She said there were irregularities in some of the other labs and she was trying to clear them up. There wasn’t anything wrong in any of the other labs. She used me, set me up, then…”

She hesitated and it gave me a chance to clarify my thoughts and evaluate the cues she was giving. Her pupils were dilating as I watched, her upper body was tense, and her eye contact exaggerated. This woman was lying.

“Then what, Dr. Cameron, the complaint was for sexual harassment?” I asked. “Who approached you?” I asked. “I’m not the sex police,” I said, “but I have to know the whole thing, warts, and all.”

“Well it’s sort of embarrassing,” she began.

I wasn’t sure how much she’d tell me in a busy restaurant, but it was worth a try even if it was all malarkey.

“Go on, “” I said.

“When I first went to work there, Sharon Greer was really nice to me. We had briefly worked together in a lab when I was in grad school. Not long after I started at Perimeter, I caught her eye and we began flirting, but she was cautious. It went on for a while until one day she told me she liked me, but we should cool it because she was in a relationship.”

She gave a sad nervous laugh and looked left, an indication she was retrieving facts.
At least that part was true
, I thought.

“We remained friendly, though. We’d go out for drinks occasionally and she invited me to a couple parties at her house. That’s where I met my lawyer.
I met her friends and went to some of their parties too. She’d show me some attention when we were alone.
Once, Sharon made a big show of introducing me around at a party. I’d met all those women before. I think she was trying to tweak her partner.”

“Do you know whose house that was?” I asked.

“Ah, no, it was one of Dr. Greer’s friends. Maybe her name was Tammy.”

“Could it have been Tawni?” I asked. 

“It could have been. She was a skinny woman, in advertising I think. Sharon took me out on the patio and asked how I was and how I liked the party. I said it was fine, and while we were talking, she grabbed me. She kissed and groped me for show in front of the window. I told her to stop, but she laughed at me. She said she was trying to make her partner jealous.”

“Did it work?”

“I guess. They got in a fight later,” she replied. “Apparently her partner ended up in the ER.”

I’d have to ask Stan to check records at the areas hospitals.

“Did you meet Dr. Greer’s partner?” I asked.

“Not that night, I got out of there. I met her at another party a few weeks later though,” she replied.

“Do you recall her name?” I asked.

“I don’t,” she replied.

She answered too quickly. The lie was so huge I thought she’d choke on it.

“Recall what she looked like?” I asked. I had to nail down an ID of Stephanie Hunt.

“She was pretty and had nice figure. Tall, dark hair, athletic, she sort of looked like me, now that I think of it,” she chuckled, “except she wasn’t Filipino.”

“Sharon introduced you. You would have heard the woman’s name then. You said you met these women before,” I said trying to help her remember.

“Yeah, let’s see, I met Tammy, no it was Tawni, she’s the one that had the first party I went to. Another one was Libby something. I don’t think I ever heard her last name. She was nice.”

“Anyone else?”

There were a lot of people there. I hung out with Sharon’s friends,” she said.

“How about her partner’s name,” I asked.