Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 6) Page 27

“No. But ...something just occurred to me. I forgot all about it until now.” She sat on the stool with the ring of keys in her lap, evading my stare. Finally, she removed another key from the ring and placed it on the counter between us. It was much smaller than the rest of the keys, and a weird shape. “I think you should take this.”

  “What does it go to?’ I asked.

  “There’s a safe that he keeps in his office downtown. A couple of weeks ago, Julian got drunk and started going on about some ridiculous business. A confession of sorts. I hadn’t taken him seriously then, but now...I had forgotten about it until now.”

  I waited for her to continue.

  She cleared her throat, nervously. “Look, I know Julian kept a lot of secrets from me. He kept secrets from everyone. To be honest, I don’t want to know what’s in that safe. I’m done thinking about it. I just want this mess to be over. I know that probably sounds selfish and heartless, but you have no idea how complicated Julian was. I’m done dealing with his drama.”

  “Did he give you any clue as to what’s in the safe?”

  “It’s probably a sex tape or nude photos of someone. Or maybe some dirt on one of his colleagues. Whatever it is, he was worried the wrong person might find it.”

  “But he didn’t tell you.”

  “No. I’d rather not go there. Can’t stand his colleagues at his work. They’re a bunch of fakes, and I’ve never cared for them. I’m pretty sure he was boning his secretary, too. Such a cliché.”

  Since she had removed the small key from the ring and placed it on the counter, I assumed she wanted me to take it. “You didn’t mention any of this to the detective.”

  “Like I said, it only occurred to me just now. It might not be pertinent to his death.”

  “In a murder investigation, everything is pertinent.” I took the key, “but I’ll check it out if you want me to.”

  “Give it to the cops or don’t.”

  I didn’t understand why she trusted me, but I wasn’t going to back down. “How late will his office be open tonight?”

  She glanced at her watch. “It’s after six, so I doubt anyone’s there. I’ll give them a call and tell them you’ll be stopping by first thing in the morning. Just to avoid the hassle.”

  She speed dialed a number on her cell phone, but it went straight to voicemail. Kristina cleared her throat and said, “Hello Jessica, it’s Kristina Pike. I’m calling to let you know that someone will be by first thing in the morning to collect a few personal items from my husband’s office. I hope this won’t be a problem and thanks for your cooperation.”

  “One last question, if you don’t mind?” I said.

  She made a vague gesture for me to proceed.

  “How many times did you go with Julian to the swing parties?”

  She took a moment, apparently thinking it over. “Probably half a dozen times, why?”

  “Did you enjoy it? Or did Julian pressure you to go?”

  “I didn’t mind. It was kind of fun at first. After a while I realized that it wasn’t my scene.”

  “What’s your impression of Zeb Nichols?”

  An odd expression crossed her face. “What you’re really asking is, do I think he murdered my husband?”

  “Did Zeb and Julian get along? Was there any animosity between them?”

  Kristina rolled her eyes. “These are the same questions that the detective grilled me with this morning. Julian had a knack of rubbing people the wrong way, in every sense of that term. Most people in his life wanted to kill him for one reason or another. I don’t have enough time and energy to go down the long list.”

  I could see I wasn’t going to get a straight answer about Zeb, and I could tell that Kristina had reached the end of her rope. “I should go and let you get some rest. I really appreciate your talking with me. I’ll give you a call tomorrow when we find out what’s inside the safe.”

  “Don’t bother. I don’t want to know.” She walked me to the door without another word.

  Sitting in my car, I took a deep breath, called the detective, and prayed he wouldn’t ream me out for visiting Julian’s wife on my own.

  Chapter 12

  When I got home later that evening, my younger half-brother, Andrew, was sitting in the kitchen, having a beer with Carter. He had recently moved to Bridgeport to be closer to his dad and me. Since he was in between jobs, he had time on his hands and was often looking for things to do. He’d pop by every few days to hear about the cases we were working on.

  “Sit down and take a load off,” Andrew said to me, handing me a cold bottle. “I brought some Chinese take-out, if you’re hungry.”

  “Thanks. I’d like to have a drink first.” I joined the guys at the table and kicked off my shoes.

  Andrew leaned close to me and held his hand up for me to slap it. “High five for getting the bullseye at target practice, by the way. Carter told me.”

  I slapped his hand. “Yeah, well, target practice is one thing. In a real life situation, I wonder if I’d be calm enough to hit a hot air balloon ten feet away.”

  “So, I guess now you have to get one of those ankle holsters to keep your pistol in a safe spot.”

  “Nah,” I said. “I’ll just tuck it inside the waist of my jeans.”

  Andrew seemed confused. “Why would you do that? The bad guys will see it poking out.”

  He spoke as if he had experience with such things when, in actuality, he was an accountant. I decided to indulge my brother with a little show and tell. I removed my gun from my purse, stood up and slipped it inside my waist band of my jeans, under my shirt in the back. I raised my hands and did a full circle. “Now tell me honestly, can you tell I’m packing?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Not with that baggy shirt.”

  “I’ll show you my little trick.” I removed the gun and lifted my shirt. “See this little pocket I sewed to my jeans?”

  Andrew inspected the pocket and chuckled. “You did that?”

  “Yeah. Pretty cool, huh? The barrel fits nice and snug. This little guy isn’t going to fall out unless someone lifts me upside down and shakes me.”

  Andrew slapped Carter’s arm. “Did you tell her to do that?”

  Carter raised his hands. “Nope. It was all her idea.”

  Andrew turned back to me, still sporting a dubious expression. “Well, aren’t you afraid the thing will go off? It could shoot your ass off.”

  I gave him an incredulous look. “Please. If the safety is on, it’s not going to shoot my ass off.”

  Andrew was getting quite a kick out this, I could tell. I guess I couldn’t blame him. Even I had a hard time believing this was my life.

  Sarah Woods: a bona fide, gun-slinging chick.

  “I’ll bet Carter wears an ankle holster,” Andrew said. “You used to be a cop. All cops wear holsters, am I right?”

  “I used to,” Carter said, with a straight face. “Until I noticed little barrel sized pockets had been sewn into all my jeans.”

  Andrew roared with laughter, his face turning beet red. I thought beer was going to come out of his nose he laughed so hard.

  “Ha ha, very funny,” I said, “You joke around now, but just you wait and see. Someday my little pockets will come in handy. And then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

  Once Andrew calmed down, he asked, “So, did you guys hear about that lawyer who croaked last night? The reporter said it was erotic asphyxiation. It happened at a swing party, can you believe it? How embarrassing.”

  When Carter and I made no comment, Andrew figured it out. “Is that the new case you guys are working on? C’mon, you gotta share.”

  I shook my head. “We’re not officially on the case, but we are involved. We’re not really allowed to talk about the details.”

  He made a pouty face. “As if I’m going to say anything.”

  Carter flashed me a warning glance, and I knew I couldn’t give in to Andrew’s taunting. I made the motion of zipping my lips shut and he got the mes
sage.

  “Fine,” he said, hands up in surrender. “I get it. It’s top secret, and I’m way below the pay grade.”

  * * *

  When Andrew left our house around eight, I was exhausted, but I wanted to show Carter the pictures I’d taken of Julian’s sex dungeon. I couldn’t very well do that with Andrew hanging around.

  Carter winced as he flipped through the photos on my cell phone. “Hard to believe that anyone could get turned on by torture. What did James say when you called him?”

  “He wasn’t thrilled that I had gone to Kristina on my own, but he seemed curious about the earring. I sent him all the photos.”

  “Did you tell him about Julian’s safe?”

  “Yeah. He’s going to meet us over at the law office first thing in the morning.”

  Carter went behind my chair and began massaging my neck. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to melt into his hands.

  “Before Andrew showed up tonight, I made some calls while I was digging into Zeb’s past,” he said. “I got some of the details of his arrest back in 2012. It happens to involve Madeline and the prostitution business.”

  “Don’t tell me he got rough with one of the girls.”

  “No. With one of the customers. He was a regular of Madeline’s, guy by the name of Richard Brown. Richard got carried away with Madeline one night. Gave her a black eye and a few broken ribs. When Zeb found out, he went ballistic. He put Mr. Brown in the hospital with a broken arm and collarbone. The guy pressed charges, and Zeb was arrested, but for whatever reason, the cops couldn’t exactly prove that Zeb was involved.”

  “So, he walked?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, it certainly makes sense why Zeb would have no qualms about killing Julian because he got rough with Madeline the week before.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “Unfortunately, it seems like Zeb is very good at covering his tracks. I’d like to know how he got Sandra Dotson to lie for him about his alibi.”

  All of a sudden, I wasn’t feeling so tired anymore. “Maybe we should go pay her a visit. Do we have her home address?”

  “Now? It’s almost eight-thirty.”

  “The only way we can catch Zeb in a lie, is if we can convince Sandra to recant her testimony. If she admits that Zeb left the room around the time of Julian’s death, the detective will have just cause to search his apartment. Or at least bring him in for another round of questioning.”

  Carter checked his watch with a groan. “I can get the Dotson’s address, I suppose.”

  Chapter 13

  Sandra and Earl Dotson’s condo was located on a golf course near the ocean, a ten minute drive from Bridgeport. While Carter drove, I used the internet to find out exactly what this couple did for work. Not surprisingly, Earl was a plastic surgeon. His wife worked in the office. That’s probably how they knew the Porters, through the medical profession.

  When we arrived, Sandra answered the door, dressed in a silk robe. I got the distinct feeling that we’d just interrupted a romantic evening between she and her husband.

  “Why are you here?” Since she had no facial expression due to the Botox, it was hard to tell what she was feeling. Her tone, however, conveyed annoyance.

  “Sorry to stop by so late,” I said. “Do you have a few minutes?”

  “I most certainly do not. My husband and I were just about to sit down for dinner.”

  “Does he know that you lied to the police for Zeb?”

  She responded a moment too late. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Did Zeb threaten you?” I said, with a sincere yet firm tone. In order for this ruse to work, I couldn’t back down. I had to sell it. “We have some damning evidence against Zeb. It would be a shame for you to go down with him.”

  Her lower lip quivered. “I’d like you to leave now. I have nothing more to say to you.” With that, she shut the door in our faces.

  Carter turned to me. “You understand this little ploy might backfire on us, right?”

  “She’s lying. Couldn’t you tell?”

  “Of course she’s lying, but we lied, too. We don’t actually have any proof that Zeb killed Julian.”

  “Not yet,” I said.

  As we headed back to our car in the dark, a voice prompted us to stop. Turning around, Sandra Dotson had emerged from the front door of the condo. She had removed the robe and was wearing a long cardigan sweater. “Wait,” she called out to us. “Don’t leave.”

  We waited for her to approach, and when she did, there was a terrified look in her eyes. “Are they going to arrest him?”

  “Zeb?” I said.

  She nodded.

  “Well, that depends on you. Do you want to tell us the truth, now?”

  “Look,” she said, with arms wrapped around her torso to keep the sweater hugged tight. “I don’t actually remember if Zeb left the room or not. I had fallen asleep for a while.”

  “You fell asleep during sex?” I asked.

  She gave me an indignant stare. “No. After we both climaxed, we just sort of took a rest. I fell asleep. I assumed he did too. With all the wine beforehand, it’s not such a bad thing to have a little rest after sex.”

  “Do you make a habit of falling asleep after sex?”

  She hesitated as if slightly embarrassed. “Sometimes, why?”

  “How long do you think you were asleep last night?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t really know. I woke up when I heard the scream.”

  “But you didn’t tell the detective that you’d fallen asleep?”

  “No. After Zeb and I left the party before the police arrived, he called me to make sure we were on the same page. We were both in the room together the entire night.”

  “Didn’t that make you a bit suspicious?”

  Sandra closed her eyes and bowed her head. “I just didn’t want to get involved in the mess. Quite honestly, Julian was a train wreck, anyway. He brought it all on himself.”

  I took the diamond earring out of my purse, which I had placed in a small Ziplock bag, and showed it to her. “Do you have any idea who this belongs to?”

  I used the flashlight app on my cell phone to provide some light. She examined the earring from inside the baggie. “Doesn’t look familiar. Where did you find it?”

  “Let me ask you this, do you know about Julian’s room in his basement?”

  She looked up at me in bewilderment. “I’ve never been to their house.”

  I examined her features, looking for telltale signs of deceit and decided she was speaking the truth. I returned the baggie to my pocket. “One last thing, did you happen to notice if Zeb had latex gloves with him last night?”

  “Why would he have latex gloves?”

  “As protection. He wouldn’t want his prints showing up on Julian’s body. Or the belt that strangled him.”

  Sandra shook her head. “Sorry. I didn’t see him with latex gloves.”

  “I’m sorry we showed up at your home like this,” I said, gesturing to her husband, standing in the window, watching the three of us talking in the street. “Hope you can still enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  She eyed me warily. “You two aren’t part of the swinging crowd, are you?”

  “Not really,” I said. “Carter and I decided we’re just not into it.”

  * * *

  “Do you believe her story, that she and Zeb fell asleep?” Carter asked as we drove home.

  I thought about his question and something occurred to me. “Last night, do you remember that Zeb had specifically asked Sandra to join him in a private bedroom?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Well, perhaps he did that, knowing that she had a tendency to fall asleep after an orgasm. He knew he could slip out of the room and she’d never know.”

  “Sure,” Carter said. “But how would he have known that Julian arrived and what room he was in?”

  “Think about it, Julian was quite rowdy after
he started snorting cocaine. Everyone in the house probably knew he’d arrived at that point.”

  Carter rubbed his eyes in agitation. “Why are we beating our heads against the wall over this guy? Julian was a creep. Maybe it’s a good thing he’s dead. Let’s let the cops handle it from now on, okay?”

  “Aren’t you the least bit interested in what Julian’s been hiding in his safe?”

  He paused to look at me with that classic Carter expression. “No, I don’t care.”

  I chuckled. “Liar!”

  Chapter 14

  At 9:00 a.m. the next morning, Detective James was already waiting in the lobby of Julian’s law office downtown, waiting for Carter and me to arrive with the key to the safe.

  Julian’s secretary, a well-endowed young hottie, led us down the corridor and stopped short of Julian’s closed office door. “It’s a mess. The partners were in there all day yesterday, trying to salvage his pending cases.”

  Sure enough, Julian’s office looked like it had been ransacked. All his desk drawers were open, some laying on the floor as if yanked out in a hurry.

  Carter immediately began looking through the closets, and it didn’t take long to find the safe. I gave the key to Detective James, to let him do the honors.

  With one simple turn, the small metal door opened easily. The detective reached inside and pulled out a small device. “Looks like a thumb drive. Did anyone bring a laptop?”

  Back in the car, I booted up my laptop and inserted the thumb drive. Within a few seconds, audio of several male voices began talking. Finally the camera came into focus, and we could see Julian’s face close up. Except, he looked about twenty years younger. He seemed to be adjusting the camera in place and then walked away. In the background, it looked like a dorm room with band posters on the wall. Sitting on the single bed was a much younger version of Bob Porter. He was chugging a beer, laughing, talking about some football game they had been to earlier in the night. Julian grabbed his own beer and joined him on the bed. I got the sense that Bob had no idea he was being recorded. Over the next ten minutes, the two boys continued to drink and talk about some girls they knew. Julian offered Bob cocaine, but he declined. Julian eventually convinced Bob to take a pill.