Trust (12 page)

Her mother had always said that marriage was hard work, but she'd never understood that. She'd always had a vision of finding her true soul mate and living happily ever after. She still thought that person was David. They got along beautifully and since they'd been living together unofficially for the past six months, they'd rarely even argued. She couldn't imagine hiding things from David the way Julie did with Billy about her secret room. Thankfully, Lauren and David didn't have any trust issues like that to deal with.

Lauren was also relieved that the media buzz about her had died down. It hadn't even come up at dinner, and for that, she was grateful. She realized that she'd been a little on edge, dreading the conversation taking a turn in that direction. And neither Billy nor Chuck seemed to remember her from those days.

Chuck had been there that night too as he and Billy were close friends from high school. Chuck had left earlier than the rest of them with a few other boys, so he didn't have to face the interrogation that she, Jack and Billy had been subjected to. She wondered if they ever thought much about that day and wondered what they'd think if they ever did make the connection that she'd been right there with them. That was a dinner conversation she definitely didn't care to be a part of.

She turned her attention back to the upcoming wedding and as she'd done a dozen times already, she went through her mental checklist to make sure there was nothing she had forgotten to do. Everything was all set though. She'd had a message from Nellie earlier in the day that their dresses were ready and they could stop by tomorrow after work for a final fitting to make sure everything was just right.

It wasn't going to be a large wedding, certainly nothing on the scale of what Chuck and Katy had done. Their wedding had reminded her of the show, Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, where everything was completely luxurious and out of reach for most people. No, Lauren and David's wedding wasn't going to be anything like that. The guest list was about a fifth the size for starters, with about one hundred and twenty people, mostly close friends and family, and a handful of David's long-term clients, the ones he really felt were his friends. He didn't want his wedding to feel like a promotion for his business and Lauren agreed. They wanted it to have an intimate, special feeling.

They were holding it at the Edgewater Inn, one of the smaller hotels along the waterfront. The views weren't as spectacular as the hotel where Chuck and Katy got married, which was high on a cliff with sweeping panoramic views. Lauren preferred the view from the Inn anyway, as it was closer to town and was right on the busy harbor where there was always something to look at—sailboats in the summer and ferries and fishing boats all winter long, coming in and going out to sea.

She was most excited about the food though.  Lauren didn't want people to feel boxed in by a fancy sit-down dinner. She wanted the reception to feel more like a free-flowing party. The seating would include a mix of cocktail and larger round tables. The food would be a succession of hot and cold hors d'oeuvres, a few meat carving stations, a pasta station, a raw bar, a salad table, and a sundae station for the kids and adults, And for the cake, she was going for something really fun and informal—a layered collection of assorted cupcakes, assembled to resemble a wedding cake.

Her favorite part of any wedding meal was always the hors d’oeuvres and she'd watched people fill up during cocktail hour and then leave their plates holding very expensive filet mignon or prime rib virtually untouched. This way, by having the stations, everyone was able to have whatever suited them. And the hors d'oeuvres were going to be a mix of retro favorites like pigs in a blanket and mini cheeseburgers on sticks, to more elegant selections such as tuna tartare, oysters Rockefeller and lobster fondue cups.

Lauren felt her eyes grow heavy as the stress melted away. Everything was set. Her wedding was on schedule and should go off without a hitch in exactly two weeks.

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Chapter Twenty-Four

J
ack wished that DNA results came back as quickly as they did on TV. He'd sent the club off to be processed first for DNA to see if there was a match for Eric Armstrong and if the answer was yes, they'd follow that with a fingerprint analysis. He'd asked for an expedited turnaround, but still, best-case scenario was about ten days. In the meantime, they continued to follow every lead, and re-interview people, as they often remembered something relevant on the second round, even when asked the exact same questions.

His stomach growled and his thoughts turned to lunch as the clock showed it was nearly noon. But then his phone rang and he forgot all about eating when Scott excitedly told him they had a new lead. A friend of Eric's decided to share some information he hadn't disclosed previously. He'd agreed to come in for further questioning and Scott said they'd be in the office any minute.

Less than ten minutes later Angie, at the front desk, rang to tell Jack that Scott and Danny were waiting for him in interrogation room B. Before he entered the room, Jack stopped in the observation area, adjacent to the room. Scott was sitting at a small table across from Danny Wells, a gawky, pimply-faced former classmate of Eric's. The table was empty except for a can of ginger ale in front of Danny, who looked a little uncomfortable and nervous to be there; but that was normal for anyone sitting in an interrogation room. Nothing unusual jumped out at him, so Jack headed into the room.

Scott jumped up to introduce him, "Danny, this is Jack McPhee, our assistant sheriff. He's going to want to ask you a few questions as well."

"Danny, nice to meet you, and thanks for coming in." Jack wanted to put the boy at ease, so he'd open up with them. He and Scott sat down across from Danny and Scott began.

"Danny, you mentioned that in addition to his hours at the club, Eric had picked up a side job?"

"Yeah, one of the new members liked the way he took care of his car for him when he was on valet. Guy drives a sweet sports car, real expensive and he liked that Eric babied it and made sure it was right out front so it'd be ready in a flash. It was also the most visible spot. I think the guy really liked that too."

"Who is this guy?" Jack asked.

"He just moved here a few months back. Randy Sykes. The guy's like a multi-millionaire or something."

"So what kind of job did he offer Eric?"

"He had a couple of big parties coming up at his house and asked if Eric wanted to handle the valet work; said he could bring a helper as well. So he brought me."

"How did it go?" Jack asked.

"Well, the first party went off smooth as can be and we made a nice chunk of cash from it; the money Randy paid us, plus plenty of tips from the guests. It was a good gig. Randy said he was real pleased. He wasn't so happy after the next party though."

"What was different about the next party?" Jack looked up from his notepad and paid careful attention to Danny's facial expressions. He could hear from the change in his voice that this part of the story made him uncomfortable.

"Well, this party was a little bigger and was some kind of a work related thing, lots of important people and plenty of flashy cars. Everything was going great and we were having a blast parking all these sweet cars. But once everyone was in and the event started, we just sat around. After a few hours, a secretary came out, gave us a few sandwiches and sodas and said they were at the halfway point. So, we figured that meant at least another three or four hours of just sitting around. We knew it was unlikely anyone would be leaving in the next hour for sure. So what happened next was actually my fault. I talked Eric into taking one of the cars out for a spin."

"He figured no one would be the wiser," Scott said.

"Seriously, I thought it was harmless, and would be a blast. Eric was nervous, but eventually gave in with the condition that he'd drive, and it would be Randy's car, the one he'd driven before, at the club. It's a fire engine red Lamborghini convertible and that thing hauls! We didn't go far with it, didn't want anyone to see us. Eric knew of a deserted service highway that was perfect. It had little traffic and a straightaway that went for several miles. We got it up over one hundred in seconds. It was like we were floating."

"But you got caught." Jack said.

"Yeah, we got busted. Randy was waiting in the lot for us. When Eric saw him there he slammed on the brakes, which sent a rock up from under the tires and smack into the middle of the window shield. It cracked it good; looked like a spider web almost."

"What did Randy do?" Jack had met the guy once through David, and that was enough. He didn't envy David for having to deal with him on a regular basis, no matter how big a client the guy was.

"His voice was real calm and scary-like, much quieter than normal and his face was beet red, looked like he wanted to explode. All he said was that he'd come out to tell us they were wrapping up sooner than expected. Then he said to park the car out back in the garage where no one could see it and get back to work. Once everyone was gone, we'd talk." Danny paused for a moment to take a sip of ginger ale, and then continued.

"We were dreading the end of the shift. We knew we'd probably have to pay for the damage and neither one of us had that kind of money. We figured he'd tell our parents too and then we'd really be in trouble. When he finally came out to see us, after all the guests were gone, he was totally worked up, his face even redder than before. It was like his anger was just building the whole time. He screamed at us, kind of crazy-like, called us all kinds of stupid, useless. Said there was no way we were getting paid and he made us hand over all our tips. We didn't mind, though, since we figured we owed him way more than that."

"Did he tell your parents?" Jack assumed that he must have.

"No, that kind of surprised us a little. He said we still owed him and he'd find a way for us to work it off and it wouldn't be as a valet."

"What did he have you do?" The more Jack heard about Randy the more he didn't care for the guy.

"We ran errands for him, spur-of-the-moment stuff; anything from delivering a package to washing his cars or picking up his dry-cleaning. He called us his 'bitches'. Eric asked him a few times how much longer it would be before we worked off the damage. He never gave him a real answer though, just said, 'you’ve got a ways to go.'

We were getting sick of it. He even had us shoveling shit. Every week, we had to clean out the horse stable. That was nasty. Eric finally told him we were done and he lost it. Said 'I could fucking kill you for what you did to my car.' Eric didn't back down though and Randy was still steaming as we pulled out of the driveway. That was the day before Eric went missing. I'm not saying there's a connection, but the guy is kind of whacked."

"Thanks, Danny. We'll have a chat with Randy and check things out."

Jack and Scott dropped Danny off at his house and decided to pay Randy a visit. David had once mentioned that Randy worked out of a home office, so they figured they might catch him at home. His house was what Jack often thought of as a McMansion, probably pushing ten thousand square feet, and looked like a massive box, three stories high, with a giant wrap-around farmer's porch and oversized glass windows throughout. It was a style that Jack had always found distasteful. The goal was clearly for show. Who needed a house that big? Especially when it was just the two of them living there.

They pulled down the driveway, which was long and winding and had a gorgeous view of the property, which was a three-acre lot, with plenty of trees and a manicured lawn. To the rear of the house was a stable that held several horses. David had also mentioned that Randy didn't ride, but his wife was an avid equestrian.

They parked and walked to the door and Randy's wife, Sharon answered. Her stomach was enormous. It looked as if she was ready to give birth any moment.

"Officers, how can I help you? Please come in." She opened the door wide and stepped back to let them pass through.

"Thank you. Is Randy in? We'd like to talk with him for a minute."

A confused look flashed across her face, but then she smiled and said, "Of course, I'll get him."

As she padded off to find her husband, Jack and Scott glanced around the room. They were in the main foyer, which opened into a kitchen nook with a cozy fireplace that was blasting out heat they could feel from where they were standing. Jack had expected a showier look, all high-end fancy furnishings, but what they could see of the kitchen area was more informal, even down to earth. Jack figured that must be Sharon's influence.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her as she returned with her husband in tow.

"Me? Oh, I'm fine. I just can't wait to get this baby out. It'll be any day now. My due date is tomorrow, but my doctor thinks I still have another week."

"You wanted to see me?" Randy's said in a clipped tone. He was clearly annoyed to be disturbed.

"Yes, we'd like to chat with you for a few minutes if that's okay?" Jack said.

"All right. I was in the middle of a project," he muttered.

"This won't take long."

"Why don't you sit in the breakfast room by the fire? Can I get anyone something to drink?"

"No thank you." Jack and Scott said at the same time.

They sat at a small round table by the fire and Randy looked impatient, waiting for them to begin.

"I understand that Eric Armstrong and Danny Wells did some work for you."

"If you could call it that," he said.

"Can you tell us how long they worked for you and what they did?"

"Not long, maybe a little over a month. I'd hired Eric because he treated my car with respect at the club when he was on valet duty. He and his friend, Danny, didn't do as good a job when he worked for me. They took my Lamborghini for a joyride and ruined it."

"They totaled the car?" Jack asked.

"Close enough. They hit a rock that shattered the windshield and damaged the underside of the car." Danny hadn't mentioned any damage besides the window.