Person of Interest (A Celeste Eagan Mystery) (20 page)

“Any of your sibs or your parents know that I’m here?”

His shoulders straightened.

“Sorry, I looked through some of Colin’s old yearbooks. I wasn’t trying to pry necessarily. But Muldoon’s not that common of a name.” I linked my hands behind my back. “And y’all all look just alike.”

He gave a quick laugh. “If you think that we looked alike in school, you should see us now.” He turned back into the kitchen and pulled open a drawer. He shuffled through for a minute, then produced a photo and handed it to me.

“Holy cow. You weren’t kidding.” If I hadn’t known he and his brother were at the opposite ends of the sibs chart I’d have sworn they were twins. And his sisters, other than the varying hairstyles they were dead ringers for each other. “I can’t even imagine. I’m an only child and kind of look like my parents. Paige looks like me, but she’s still just a baby to me. Is it freaky? To look at your brother and see your face?”

“Naw. I’m much prettier than he’ll ever hope to be.” Muldoon joked. It was a good sign that he could relax a little.

“Are any of the rest of them on a police force?”

“My sisters own a catering business. My sister Darcy went through the academy, but...” He shook his head. “She decided not to pursue it. My brother, yep. He works for the Dallas PD. SWAT.”

“Wow. The testosterone you two must emit. I would hate to be in a room with you both.”

“You should be so lucky.”

“Really now. Bold talk from someone holding a woman hostage.”

All humor left him.

“Sorry. I went too far.” I released a heavy breath and left the kitchen for my nicely furnished and coordinated jail cell. I leaned back on the made bed—I’d never even untucked the blankets the night before when I’d lain down.

I’d expected Muldoon to find me and say something. But all I heard was the front door slam a few minutes later.

I stayed immobile for about five minutes before the restlessness set in. With my phone in hand I roamed the small three-bedroom home. It was nice for a bachelor. Probably more room than one man needed. As much time as he’d spent on Chad’s case, he couldn’t possibly be home much. Unless that was not the norm. But seeing how torn he was just at the idea of impropriety, I didn’t think he was much of a slacker.

Around lunchtime, Muldoon came home for half an hour. I think it was just to make sure I was still tucked away as he didn’t have time to spare. He didn’t even have time to sit with me for a sandwich, said he would grab something on the way back to the station. That didn’t seem healthy, but since I’d been eyeing an old tub of ice cream in his freezer just before he’d come in, I didn’t think I was the best one to try to judge.

I watched TV for all of an hour, not able to concentrate. Leaving me alone might have kept me safe of body but not of mind. I was stir-crazy. I called Levi every twenty minutes or so, but he was busy with one work issue or another. It was half past two before he and I spoke long enough to firm up the plans for our meeting with Beau Henderson the next day.

And that created a whole new host of problems—mostly with my conscience. I dithered, torn between telling Muldoon or not.

“Not” was winning.

He finally came in that night around eight. “Rough day at the office, dear?” I teased.

Muldoon chuckled. “Nothing like getting nowhere fast.”

“I know the feeling.” I set a casserole of baked ziti on the table. It’d been in the oven keeping warm for a couple of hours. It felt weird to eat dinner in his house without him.

He glanced over at his pantry. “You cooked?”

“If I say yes, can I go home for good behavior?” I laced my fingers together in front of me like a five-year-old begging for a new toy.

“No.” A smile tilted the corner of his mouth.

I set napkins beside the plates. “Well then, I called and ordered it.”

Just like that, the smile fled. “You had food delivered here? Did you not listen about staying out of sight?”

“I’m not a nincompoop. Levi went and picked it up for me. He even practiced his evasive maneuvers—his words not mine—making sure no one followed him over here. Sheesh, Muldoon. Give a girl some credit.”

His cheeks reddened slightly. “Sorry.” He shucked his jacket and set it on the back of his chair.

“Can I get you some beer or wine? I saw an open bottle of Shiraz tucked in the back of your fridge. Not that I was snooping.” At least not in the fridge. I’d gone through a couple of his drawers. I’d drawn the line at his underwear drawer, though I was mighty tempted. It’d seemed a little too intimate to see the man’s jockeys whether they were on his firm body or wadded up next to his socks.

“No, thanks. Water’s fine.” He sat and ate in silence for a bit. When he’d scooped seconds onto his plate, he said, “Jerry Pullman lawyered up today.”

“Did you get any indication of why he blew up my car? Not that I want him to blow up some other poor unsuspecting person’s car.”

“No. I did talk to the prosecutor, though, and he’s confident that he’ll be denied bail.” He took a bite and chewed. When he swallowed, he asked, “How bad was it being cooped up here all day?”

It would have been completely bearable with you, I wanted to say, but didn’t. “I’m still here and in once piece so I guess it went okay.” I pulled out the chair and sat across from him. “How goes Chad’s case?”

“We’re at a standstill. We went through the background checks for the employees. So far, nothing has jumped out. The school was pretty thorough.”

“For what they charge the parents to place their kids there, they’d have to be.” It was all too easy to get comfortable sitting at Muldoon’s kitchen table, going over his day and watching him eat his dinner. Since my divorce, that was probably the only thing I could say I missed of Colin.

“What’s the matter?”

I shook myself. “What?”

He reached across the table and tapped the corner of my mouth. “You’re frowning.”

“Nothing. Sorry.” I stood and pushed the chair back under the table. And just like that, comfort could morph into a longing that I had no business feeling.

* * *

The rain had cleared up overnight, letting sunlight stream into the bedroom the next morning. I stretched and looked at the clock on the nightstand. “Oh, crap.” It was half past nine. It was the longest, most restful sleep I’d had in days. I picked a fine time to catch up, though.

I jumped out of the bed and made a half-assed attempt to straighten the sheets and comforter, then hurried to shower. Still wrapped in a towel, I pawed through my bag and realized I didn’t have an outfit appropriate to visit an office complex—I didn’t think I’d still be a guest at
chez
Muldoon and hadn’t packed accordingly. I slipped on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and went in search of coffee.

Muldoon had left me a note right next to the coffeepot—was he getting to know me or what—letting me know that he’d be home for lunch again.

Guilt ate at me for not telling him about my meeting with Beau Henderson. I flipped his note over and gave him the time and address with a quick message why we were headed over there. When he came home for lunch, he’d see it and have plenty of time to meet Levi and me. Guilty conscience abated, I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat at the table.

Once caffeinated, I called Levi to pick me up so I could run to the house and get a change of clothes.

By ten forty-five he was dropping me off at the house. He ran in, did a closet check for any boogeyman who could be hiding, thankfully to no avail. “I’ll meet you at the office ten minutes before the meeting. I have to run over to the bank and sign a couple of papers on a new property.” He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and rushed back out of the house.

“Okeydoke, hon.” I waved as he shut the door behind him. To say I was a little nervous was a vast understatement. The house was so quiet. Despite Levi’s search, I stood in the foyer for a full five minutes. I listened for any creak or groan that was out of place. I finally tossed my bag onto the sofa and went about the business I needed to do to get ready. I was in a little bit of a huff, too.

I was pissed that Chad’s killer made me afraid to be alone in my home. I half wished he—she, whoever—would show up and let me kick him square in the ass. Still, I kept my cell close just in case as I slipped into a pair of black slacks and a parent-meeting china-blue silk top. I went with my black ballet flats instead of my usual wedge loafers—übercomfy rather than übercute.

By the time I was done primping, it was time to head to the office building. My cell rang as I was settling in behind the Hummer’s steering wheel. Muldoon’s name came across the screen. “You programmed your name and number into my phone?” I said as a way of a greeting.

“To keep you on your toes.” All sorts of noise and clanking echoed through the phone.

“Where are you?”

“There was a freight train derailment on the far side of town. We have six cars off the tracks.”

“Geez.” I started up the SUV. I thought about backing out of the driveway, but I didn’t think I could maneuver Harriet with one hand. “Is everyone okay?”

“No injuries, but it’s screwing up traffic all over town. A couple of intersections are closed.” Another series of metal banging came through the line. “I’m not going to be able to make it to the house for lunch. I’ll be tied up here for a while.”

“Oh. Okay. What part of town?” If it was between me and the highway, it would take an extra half hour to drive out and around and double back.

He named off an intersection on the far west corner of town nowhere near my subdivision, but one of the largest strip malls was surrounded by the tracks. “Before I forget, the gardener, the one who got grease all over your sweater—”

“Danny Something-or-other?” I couldn’t remember his danged last name.

“Eems. Danny Eems. Turns out he was employed with Joe Carpenter for a short while.”

“Are you serious?”

“He worked at his office.”

“As?”

“Office manager. There’s something hinky about this. Please stay put until I can get with you and we can go over a couple more things. It’s coming to a head, I can feel it.” Muldoon cursed. “I gotta go.” He hung up.

I tapped my fingers on the Hummer’s steering wheel. Stay or go? I
was
armed with even more info than before I made the appointment. A little voice in the back of my head—that sounded remarkably like Muldoon—said to do nothing and let Muldoon do his job. In my gut, though, something was pushing me to go talk to Beau Henderson. Today.

Don’t be mad at me, Muldoon
. I plugged in the address into the GPS and pulled out of the driveway. I made a beeline through the neighborhood for the highway. I was half an hour away from Henderson’s office building—if I went a teensy weensy bit over the speed limit most of the way.

Danny the gardener? He had access to Chad, but why would he kill the man? Or Kelsey for that matter? And what could he possibly have against me? I’d barely crossed paths with him at school, didn’t think I ever said more than a few words to him. What did I even know of him? He was in his mid-twenties I’d guess. He’d come in as an assistant to the gardener at the end of the term the year before. Over the summer, the head gardener retired and Danny took over.

How could he be involved in Chad and Joe’s pasts? He’d have been a kid at the time. A kid. Hmm... Could he be...? My mind drifted for a moment but was quickly brought back by a loud honk.

“Shit.” I swerved and nearly hit the car in the next lane. Professor Patts had a son at the time of her death.

I groped for my cell on the seat next to me. It took several tries to drive and dial—I know I should have pulled over, but the urgency of talking to Mr. Henderson grew exponentially so I didn’t want to stop—but it finally connected. Muldoon’s phone went straight to voice mail. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or anxious that he hadn’t answered. “I know you said Danny’s last name is Eems, but could he be related to the professor? Her son’d been put in foster care after his mother’s death. They could have changed his name, right?” I took a deep breath. “I’m going to meet with Beau Henderson right now. The other man involved with Chad and Joe Carpenter.” I went on to give him the details in case he didn’t get back to the house to find the note. “I know you’re probably mad, but the man needs to know. Don’t worry, Levi’s going to meet me there.”

Chapter Eighteen

“I’m stuck in town,” Levi said the moment I answered the phone.

“You haven’t even left Peytonville?” I stood in the lobby of the Henderson building—the man had his own building, for goodness’ sake.

“No, sweets. There’s a freight train off its track.”

“Yeah, so?”

“I was running late and now I’m stuck in traffic. It’s gridlock.”

I tucked the folder of articles for Beau Henderson under my arm and looked at the board listing the different offices and floors. Mr. Henderson’s business occupied the top three floors. When I made the appointment, his assistant had given me instructions for which floor to get off, but I’d left the paper sitting on the front seat of Harriet. “Do you remember what floor his office is on?”

“You’re not going it alone, are you?”

“I’m already here. I have the stuff to give him. Plus, what Muldoon told me.” I gave Levi a quick recap on Danny Eems as I pushed the button for the elevator. When the car came to the first floor and the doors opened, I stepped in. “At this point, don’t worry about heading out this way. No point now, it’ll be done before you can even get to town.”

The doors hissed shut and I pushed the first of the three floors that were listed under Henderson’s company name.

“Don’t think...idea...be...” Levi cut out. The cell service in the elevator disappeared and the call dropped.

I shoved the phone in my pocket and gnawed my lip on the ride up to the eighteenth floor. I could still turn around and leave. No one knew who I was or why I was there. But I’d come all that way. I was simply going to give the man some information. And then I could leave.

The doors eased open to a carpeted bullpen with wall-to-wall cubicles. I walked over to the first desk and asked where I could find Beau Henderson.

“You need to go up to the twentieth floor. Mr. Henderson’s offices are to the right.”

“Thanks.” I shifted the folder under my arm and eased my cell out of my pocket. Three missed calls from Levi. I stepped back into the elevator and pressed twenty. As the doors shut, I thought I saw someone running toward it. I pushed the door open button but it was too late.

Two more floors up, I gave my name to Mr. Henderson’s assistant and was waved to a set of cushy seats. I didn’t even have time to get comfortable before the office door opened.

“Mrs. Eagan?” A man in his late forties with salt-and-pepper hair stood in the doorway. He was dressed like every other businessman in his dark suit, white shirt and green striped tie. “This way.”

His office was huge—a little bigger than my living room—and gorgeous. All dark woods and leather chairs with bookshelves lining two full walls. A huge wall of windows overlooked downtown Dallas. I had no idea what his business entailed, but apparently he was very good at it.

He sat behind the large desk and motioned for me to sit in the leather chair across from him. He intertwined his fingers on the blotter in front of him and frowned. “I was a little hesitant to take this appointment with you today. But I must admit, you piqued my curiosity.” He took a deep breath. “You worked for Chad?”

“Yes.” I ran my finger around the edge of the folder but held his gaze. “I am going to apologize now as there’s no easy way to say this. I think you’re in danger.” I just blurted it out.

The man blanched.

“I think whoever killed Chad—” I handed him the folder with all the articles “—may have killed your friend Joe Carpenter a few years ago, too.”

“Joe’s dead?” He set the folder down, never taking his eyes off mine.

My hip was vibrating. Someone was calling me, but I couldn’t answer the phone. “Didn’t you keep in touch with your friends since college?”

Henderson shook his head. “I’m guessing since you connected the three of us together, you know what we were accused of.” His composure fell and he leaned back in his chair.

“Are you saying you didn’t do it?”

He loosened his tie. “The video was not one of my finest moments. But we had nothing to do with Professor Patts taking her own life.”

I scoffed before I could help myself.

“We had no intention of sharing that video with anyone. We were all a little...high. There, I said it.”

I know I gawked, but how could I not? Nothing that I’d read indicated they were high. “Even the professor?”

“Yes.” Henderson ran his hand over his face. “Chad left the tape sitting on the desk in his apartment and his girlfriend found it. She was so furious he’d cheated on her she took it to the dean without thinking of what it would do to the rest of our reputations. No one expected the woman to kill herself.”

“Y’all were questioned, though, right?”

“At first they thought it was a homicide. But eventually they found the suicide note and they checked our alibis for that night she...died.” He stood and walked over to a floor-to-ceiling window. “From what I understand the police are no closer to finding Chad’s killer. How did Joe die?”

I cleared my throat. “It was ruled a suicide. By hanging. But in light of the ties to Chad and Professor Patts’s deaths, I think the police are reopening the case to see if there might be a connection.” I actually had no idea if that was true. But that was what the police did in the movies, right?

“Anyway, that’s why I came to talk to you. I found out this morning that there was a young man working at both Mr. Carpenter’s office as well as at the school where I teach. His name is Danny Eems. I don’t know what the connection is yet, but it—”

“Come again. The name?”

“Danny Eems.”

Henderson’s hands shook as he turned and pushed a button on the front of the phone. “Liz, call Security up here immediately.” He tugged more at his tie. “Liz?” He frowned harder. “Always leaving her damn desk.”

“What’s the problem, Mr. Henderson?” I stood and waved my hand and tried to get him to focus. I worried that he was in the throes of a heart attack or something as sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Liz? Where is she?” He slammed the phone down and paced behind his desk. “Danny Eems? You’re sure?”

I nodded. “He was the gardener at the school.”

“Was.” It was more of a statement than a question.

My hip vibrated again. I reached for the phone. “He quit a couple of days after the murder. But so did several other teachers.”

“I hired him a few days ago.”

My hand froze. I had to swallow before I could speak. “He works here?” My mind flipped over to the person running to the elevator when I ended up on the wrong floor. I hadn’t gotten a good look at the person, but it was definitely a guy. Could it have been Danny? “Are you sure it’s the same guy?”

Henderson sat at his desk and started tapping away on his computer. He pulled up Danny’s personnel file complete with a picture for a badge.

“That’s him.” Ohmygawd, ohmygawd. I was breathing entirely too fast. “Is he here today?” I turned in a circle not sure what to do before I finally hurried over to the double doors I’d come in through. “Is there a deadbolt? Does this lock? Mr. Henderson?”

Henderson dug through his drawer and produced a gun. “Up at the top of the door.”

I found the latch at the top. The left door was engaged already. I shoved the lock of the other door into place as I groped in my pocket for my cell. I was dialing Muldoon’s cell number as I hurried back to the desk and picked up the office phone and dialed 911.

Muldoon answered on the first ring. “Celeste, where in the hell are you?”

“In Dallas, hang on.” The 911 operator answered on the office line. I shoved the handset at Henderson. He took it but only stared. I snapped my fingers in front of his face. “Mr. Henderson. Give her the address here,” I said when he came out of his daze. “Tell her the floor and everything.”

I set my cell phone on the desk and took the gun from him while he was distracted with the phone. He didn’t even seem to notice when I shoved the gun into the bottom drawer.

With a shaky hand, I picked up my cell phone. “Muldoon, I think I’m in trouble.” I ran my hand through my hair and paced the space between the desk and the door. “Danny Eems works here.”

“What?”

I cringed when he shouted through the phone.

Slower he repeated, “Where the hell are you?”

“Didn’t you get my message?”

“Yes, but I could barely understand you.”

“I drove to Dallas to meet with Mr. Henderson. The last guy in the article I gave you.”

A string of curse words echoed through the phone.

“It was no big deal, I thought. I just wanted to talk to him. Give him a heads-up. Levi was supposed to come with me but that stupid freight train jumped the tracks. He got stuck in traffic. You’re stuck there helping. And Danny’s here.” My voice rose with every word. “We’re locked in Henderson’s office.”

“Calm down, babe.” Muldoon’s smooth, even voice broke through my near hysteria.

I took several deep breaths.

“Call 911. Lock the door.”

“I did. We did.” I turned and found...nothing. “Mr. Henderson?” I rushed to the other side of the desk and looked under it and the chair. “He’s gone. Where’d he go? Muldoon, he’s gone.”

“Who’s gone?”

“Mr. Henderson. He was just here. But...how does someone just disappear from a locked office?”

“Celeste. Babe. Take a breath.”

I did and saw one of the bookcases off-kilter. “Secret door. There’s a secret door.”

“Shut it and stay put. Wait for the police to come in and get you.”

“What about Mr. Henderson?”

“He should have stayed. Did you shut the door?”

I had my hand on the edge to shut it. I peeked around the corner and found a narrow hallway. I didn’t want to be that girl in a scary movie who didn’t listen to the hero and ended up naked and running from the masked killer. I shoved the bookcase back into place. “Hang on.”

I set the phone down, flipped the speaker on, then shoved the desk. Or rather
at
the desk. It didn’t want to move, but still I pushed. By the third try, I was huffing and puffing and blowing hair off my face. “Move, you goddamned desk.” I swore aloud and growled as I managed to get it to scooch only the slightest. I was one level beneath full-blown panic. I braced my feet and gave it another shove, and it slid toward the door. I was sweating like crazy by the time I got the damn thing up against the fake door. “Desk’s covering the opening,” I huffed.

“Good. Good.”

“What now?” I leaned my hip against the wooden bastard and caught my breath. I’d never barricaded myself in an office before with a potential murderer running loose. “Do you think he took off if he knew I was here? I mean if I was trying to kill someone over and over and they showed up right at my feet... The man shot at me. With a cop on my front porch, no less.”

A quick knock came at door—the regular door, not the sneaky disguised-as-the-classics door. “Wh-who is it?”

“It’s Liz. I’m looking for Mr. Henderson. He has another appointment.”

“I’m afraid he stepped out.”

“I beg your...” Liz’s voice sounded muffled through the door. “I’m calling Security.”

“Good. Do that, please.” I ran over to the window. Were the police coming? I looked down on the streets in Dallas. There was so much traffic and I was so high up that I couldn’t discern one car from another. “Where are the police?”

“They’re not there yet?” Muldoon’s tiny voice came from the desk. “What did you say to them?”

“I didn’t. Mr. Henderson talked to them.”

“Call them back. Right now.”

I scooped up the phone but got no dial tone. “It’s not working.” I pressed the switch hook several times but never did get a dial tone; I even tried the intercom button. “The phone’s dead.” I ran over to the door. “Liz, did you call Security?” She didn’t answer. “Liz, is your phone dead, too?” She still didn’t answer. I swallowed hard. I was trapped in a room. On the twentieth floor. “Should I hang up with you and call 911?”

“Do not hang up with me. Understand? I’ve got one of my officers on the squad car radio with the Dallas PD as we speak. You got them, Bradford?” There was a muffled conversation. “Tell me where you are exactly. The address.”

My brain was frazzled. “I’m not exactly sure. It’s the Henderson building downtown. I asked Mr. Henderson to tell the police where we were.” I gave him the details I could remember when I drove up to the building using Harriet’s GPS and parked in the garage. “Why would he take off?”

“I don’t know, babe. Chickenshit maybe.”

Another knock sounded at the door.

“Yes?”

“Police, ma’am. Open up,” a deep voice called from the other side of the door.

“Muldoon, the police are at the door.” I reached up for the lock.

“Don’t open up yet,” he shouted through the phone.

“Why not?” I could hear him speaking with someone on his end of the phone.

“Ask the officer his name,” he said finally.

I pressed my hand onto the wooden door. “What’s your name?”

There was some slight rustling around. “What?”

“Can I have your name, Officer?” I heard a loud thud. “Officer?” I picked up the cell phone and took it off speaker. “He’s not answering me.”

“Bradford’s on the radio with them now. They’re just now getting to the building.”

My heart sped up and I stepped slowly away from the door. “Who is that then?”

“I don’t know.” The big, bad detective’s voice shook a little. “Are you okay?”

“Scared shitless but otherwise just peachy.” A scratching sound came from the bookcase. The desk was heavy as all get-out so I wasn’t too worried about it moving, but still I eased over in front of the window. I had no idea if there were other secret passages into the room but I was pretty sure the flat drop, twenty floors down, would prevent anyone getting to me through the window.

The scratching increased. A book or two rattled but the desk didn’t budge. “I think he’s at the secret panel,” I whispered into the phone.

“I can’t hear you, Celeste.”

“Someone’s at the other door.” I tried to whisper louder.

“I can’t tell what you’re saying. Just stay put. The Dallas police are at the building. Security has it locked down. They’re looking for Danny and Henderson.”

I pressed my back against the cool glass window. The scratching increased and the books rocked on the shelves. One small book fell from an upper shelf. My breath raced in and out. And my knuckles hurt as I gripped the cell to my ear. Muldoon was still talking to someone on the other end of the phone.