Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 6) (27 page)

Chapter 9

M
olly Fisher was not much of a talker. On the way to the police station, my questions elicited one word answers. When I asked her where she lived, she just shrugged and said, nowhere.

I figured she had been evicted from her last apartment, or maybe had had a fight with a live-in boyfriend. Which probably explained why she had spent the night at her employers’ house.

“Do you have family living in the area?” I asked after an awkward silence. We were only minutes away from the police station, and I still knew nothing about this woman.

“Nope.” she said, staring out the window. When the police station came into view, Molly visibly recoiled as if the sight of the place repulsed her. I figured she had probably been in trouble with the law before. If so, it was no wonder she had been so resistant to help me.

Detective James spoke with Molly in private inside his office while I paced the lobby, sipping lukewarm coffee out of a Styrofoam cup. Hopefully, Molly’s testimony would put an end to the ridiculous suspicions surrounding my involvement in Julian’s death.

Ten minutes later, Detective James emerged from his office and joined me in the lobby.

“Looks like your alibi checks out, Sarah.”

“Thank God, but what took so long in there? Is everything okay with her?”

“Not sure what to make of it just yet.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come to find out, Ms. Fisher knew Julian Pike. She took care of his dog a few months ago when he went to the Bahamas. Apparently, she’s the pet sitter to the rich and famous.”

“Okay,” I said. “So she knew Julian. Do you think she can help you determine who killed him?”

“I asked her the same question. She claims to know nothing about his death.”

“Do you believe her?”

“I get the sense she’s hiding something. Or she’s just a nervous person to begin with.” His cell phone chirped and he checked the screen. “Sarah, I have to take this. I’ll call you later.”

I caught up to Molly Fisher outside the police station. She looked tired and a little pissed when she saw me.

“Need a ride?” I asked. “I’ll drop you wherever you need to go.”

“No thanks. I’ll walk.” She didn’t break her stride as she passed me.

“Look,” I said, trying to keep up with her. For a petite woman, she sure could walk fast. “I really appreciate you helping out. Can I buy you dinner or something?”

She stopped and turned to look at me. The tight expression on her face confirmed her frustration. “You got me involved in this mess, and I don’t appreciate it. Why would I want to have dinner with you?”

“I know how uncomfortable it is to be questioned by the police. It’s intimidating. It’s meant to be that way, I guess.”

Her features softened a bit. “Yeah, especially since I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“So, you took care of Mr. Pike’s dog a few months back, right?”

She eyed me warily. “I never actually met him face to face. His wife hired me.”

“Kristina hired you? Just out of curiosity, what’s she like?”

“I don’t know. She’s rich and bossy. Why?”

“Well, did Kristina ever mention that she was going to leave Julian?”

Molly shrugged. “Why would she tell me anything? Wasn’t like we were friends. I’m the hired help, remember?”

“Did you stay at their house while they were in the Bahamas?”

She diverted her eyes, looking toward the street. I took that to mean yes.

“I don’t care if you did or didn’t,” I said. “The only reason I ask is because I’m curious about their marriage. Curious if she was so miserable that she’d hire someone to kill him.”

A contemptuous laugh escaped her. “So, that’s why you want to take me to dinner. It has nothing to do with thanking me. You need information.”

Her feelings were justified, but I thought of it more as killing two birds with one stone. “We gotta eat anyway, right? C’mon, we’ll go anywhere you want. My treat.”

She seemed to ponder the idea and finally said, “Fine. If you’re buying, then I want to go to Ron’s Beach House.”

Ron’s Beach House may sound like a campy outfit that sells lobster rolls and fish and chips, but most locals know that it’s the fanciest and the priciest restaurant in town. “They have a dress code. You plan on changing into a black cocktail dress before we go?”

“There’s no dress code to eat at the bar.”

Chapter 10

T
o my surprise, Molly ordered a cranberry juice with ice instead of an overpriced cocktail that goes for fifteen bucks a pop. I decided to lay off the booze as well and opted for a ginger ale.

It was a light crowd at the bar, just a few couples quietly talking amongst themselves. While the bartender prepared our drinks, I excused myself to use the restroom.

The restroom was an excuse to call Carter in private and explain why I wouldn’t be home for dinner.

“Why are you doing this, Sarah? You think she knows more about Julian than she’s letting on?”

“I don’t know. She’s hard to read.”

“Want me to come?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll call you when we’re done.”

“You realize we’re not obligated to solve this murder, right?”

“I know, but I feel like I’m slowly gaining this woman’s trust. Why not follow through and see where it leads?”

“Because it’s no longer our concern?”

“Maybe so, but we’re involved, whether we like it or not.”

“Just be careful.”

When I got back to the bar, Molly asked, “Who were you talking to on the phone?”

“My boyfriend, Carter. Letting him know that I won’t be home for dinner.”

She sipped her cranberry juice. “So, he’s a private eye, too?”

Detective James must have told her about me and Carter. He also probably told her we were working undercover at the party last night. I wanted to make sure she understood that. “Carter and I are partners, yes.”

“So, you don’t make a habit of going to swing parties, then?” Her smart-ass comment was intended to insult, I could tell.

In a way, I admired her direct, no bullshit attitude. “No. We were there last night strictly to keep an eye on the client’s wife, but I’d rather talk about Julian and Kristina Pike, if you don’t mind.”

She ordered another cranberry juice and turned to face me. “Look, I know Julian was a freak, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“How did you find out?”

She lowered her voice. “That kinky bastard has a torture chamber in his basement.”

“What?”

“You heard me. The guy was a sadomasochist. I doubt his wife knew
that
when she married him. Or maybe she did.”

“How’d you discover the room?”

“I like to get to know the people I work for. Sometimes I poke around.”

“So, Julian just left the door unlocked to his torture chamber? I find that hard to believe.”

“Okay, so maybe I jimmied the lock a bit. Wasn’t that hard, really.”

When our food arrived, Molly dove into her cheeseburger like a starving woman. I picked at my chicken sandwich and decided to give her some time.

After a few minutes, I couldn’t resist. “So, what kinds of things did you see in the so-called torture chamber?” I asked, hoping the fellow diners were minding their own business.

She shrugged. “Whips, chains, hand-cuffs; that sort of thing. There was even a box filled with instruments like forceps and surgical tools. No idea what he used those for.”

“Did you tell the detective?”

“No. Why would I? I’m not supposed to know that room exists. I was only in his house one time, and I swore I’d never go back there. I don’t care how much they wanna pay me to walk the dog.”

“By the way, how did you become a pet sitter for the rich?”

She finished off her cheeseburger and washed it down with the rest of the cranberry juice. “Long story. Don’t have time to explain.”

“Why? You need to be somewhere?”

She wiped her mouth with a napkin and slid off the stool. “I have plans.”

This must’ve been her way of saying that she was done talking.

“Mind if I get your cell phone number? I might have more questions.”

“I don’t know anything else.”

“Wait a second, please.” I lightly grasped her arm, and she stopped. With hand on hip, she regarded me impatiently. “What do you want from me? I don’t know who killed Julian and, honestly, I don’t care. Now, I have to go walk some dogs, okay?”

When she strode out of the bar, I had a thought. Molly told me about the torture chamber for a reason. Maybe she wanted
me
to tell Detective James. She was probably too embarrassed to do it herself.

I looked up Julian Pike’s address, which happened to be five blocks from the restaurant. I figured Kristina would be busy making funeral arrangements. I was also pretty sure she wouldn’t want to talk to me. I could always stop by and offer my deepest condolences for her loss. How could she turn me away?

The Pike residence was exactly like all the other mini-mansions in Glendale Heights. Each house must’ve had the same architect. A blending of seaside cottage and contemporary design.

I half-expected no one would answer the door so when Kristina’s face appeared I was momentarily lost for words.

“You’re that private detective.” She regarded me with a tilted head, more curious than annoyed.

“Yes. Sarah Woods,” I said. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

She opened the door wide to let me in. “I saw you at the police station this morning. The detective mentioned you and your partner. I forget his name.”

“Carter.”

“That’s right. Please come inside. Can I make you a drink?”

I detected alcohol on her breath and figured she’d already been hitting the booze hard. “No thanks, I’m fine.”

Entering the kitchen, she invited me to sit at the counter while she filled a glass with straight vodka and one ice cube. She tossed in a lemon wedge, probably more for looks than anything else. She slid the glass toward me and remained standing across the counter from me. Apparently, she didn’t want to drink alone.

“Thanks.” I took a small sip and then cleared my throat. “I’m sorry about Julian.”

“Please. Don’t be.”

I noticed her expression held no anger or sadness. If anything, she just looked exhausted. Her long, black hair was tied back in a knot, and at closer inspection, she wasn’t as attractive as I’d first thought. Yet, there was something about her that drew you in.

“You’re probably wondering why I stopped by.”

She looked up from her glass and smiled faintly. “The thought had crossed my mind.”

I could spend the next ten minutes beating around the bush, but I had a hunch that this woman would appreciate a direct question. “It’s come to my attention,” I said, “that your husband has a torture chamber in the basement.”

“Oh, that?” She chuckled softly, clearly impressed that I’d brought up such an uncomfortable topic. “Well, I prefer to call it the sex dungeon, but I like torture chamber, too. How’d you find out?”

“I’d rather not divulge that information right now.”

She took a long swig from her glass and set it down hard on the marble counter top. I was surprised the glass didn’t shatter. “Julian was a big fan of bondage,” she said, matter-of-factly. “He liked hurting his sexual partners, and he liked being hurt in return. It was a two-way street with him.”

“You’re into that, too?”

“No. It’s really not my thing. I like to experiment sexually, but I’m a wimp when it comes to pain.”

“So, did he bring other women to the house? To have sex with them in his special room?”

“Yeah. Actually, I was the one who suggested it.”

“So, you knew about his... um, tendencies before you married him?”

“Of course. He mentioned it to me on our second date. It didn’t faze me. I’d dated guys with worse inclinations.”

She didn’t seem the slightest bit uncomfortable talking about her sex life. We might as well have been talking about the stock market. “Did you personally know any of the women he brought here?”

“I preferred not to know. I travel for business, so he certainly had plenty of opportunity to entertain his lady friends.”

“Do you know Sandra Dotson? She and her husband Earl regularly attend the swing parties.”

“Yes, I know them. Why?”

“Just curious. Maybe Julian had invited Sandra to experience his sex chamber and she didn’t like the outcome. Maybe he got carried away and ended up hurting her. She decided to get revenge.”

“I thought she had an alibi for last night. She and Zeb Nichols were together the whole time. At least, that’s what I was told.”

“Zeb could’ve lied.”

Kristina appeared to mull that over. “I told the detective this morning, he’s wasting valuable time and resources investigating Julian’s death. He was bound to overdose at some point, anyway. I know that sounds harsh, but it’s the truth. The guy was a complete mess after business hours.”

“Why were you going to divorce him?”

She took a moment to respond as she circled the rim of her glass contemplatively. “Julian was never satisfied. He always wanted more. I knew it wasn’t long until he’d get bored with me, so I decided a preemptive strike would be in my best interest.”

I had a feeling there more to it than that. “Why did you marry him? You knew he’d been married a bunch of times, right?”

“Sure, I did. I didn’t care at the time. I was too in love to see the warning signs. Julian had that effect on women. I swear, he could make a woman fall in love just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “I was no exception. Pissed me off that a man could wield such control over me.”

“Have you ever met any of his ex-wives?”

“Oh yes. His third wife, Linda, had a hard time letting go after their divorce. She’d come around the house all the time. I nicknamed her
the stalker
because she used to sit across the street in her car and watch the house, waiting for Julian to get home. I guess I can’t blame her for being pissed. Julian dumped her for me.”

“Did you ever call the cops on her?”

“Nah. She never threatened us, and she eventually stopped coming around.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Hmm. Last time I saw her? About two or three months ago.” She took a moment to study my face, curiously. “Are you officially assisting the police in my husband’s investigation?”

I had to choose my words carefully and decided to level with her. “Not officially, but I’ve helped them with other cases before.”

“Then why are you here? Not that I don’t enjoy your company, but I’m just wondering.”

“Do you have a key to get inside his sex chamber?”

“No. He never gave me a key, but...” She held up her finger, a signal for me to wait. She left the room and returned a moment later with her purse. She rifled through it and found a ring of keys. “The detective gave me Julian’s personal belongings this morning. Keys to his car, the house, his office, and I assume there’s one to the room in the basement. Why do you want to see it?”

“Could I?”

She inspected the ring of keys and found one that looked like a regular door key. “Let’s try this one.”