Beauty to Die For and Other Mystery Shorts (14 page)

“My briefcase is in my office. On top of my desk.” With a tired sigh, Tiffany fell back in her seat.

Hannah, her organizer tucked under her arm, hurried out of the office. She left the door open.

“I think we should have the notes you received processed for fingerprints,” Joshua said.

“Sure,” Tiffany said. “I’ll make sure you get them.” She smiled over at Cameron. “The police officer this morning didn’t even offer to do that.”

“It isn’t every day that he runs into cases like this,” the detective said with a shrug. It was the best excuse she could come up with. “You had told me that you didn’t know anyone in this area when you moved here.”

“No one,” Tiffany replied. “I know it’s crazy, but the position that Mr. Frost offered me was simply too good to pass up.”

“Tiffany has been a treasured asset to my company.” Stan Frost cast her a wide grin. “She’s taken a load off my shoulders. She has a gift for making wise business decisions. That’s not something you learn. It’s something you’re born with.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Cameron asked, “how did you find Tiffany? She said that the offer was quite sudden.”

“I wasn’t even looking for a job,” Tiffany recalled with a high pitched giggle. “My husband had only just died. I was still reeling, not really sure what was going to become of me when Hannah sent me that e-mail.”

Joshua looked up from the notes he was reading to look over at Stan Frost. “Sounds like a real stroke of luck that you got such an offer out of the blue when you needed it so badly.”

“Tiffany has been an answer to my prayers.” Stan smiled over at her.

Casting a sly glance in Joshua’s direction, Cameron asked Tiffany, “Your husband was in the Navy.”

“He was a lieutenant,” she said.

“And you lived in Norfolk?”

“Ever since we got married four years ago,” Tiffany answered.

“Four years ago,” Joshua repeated. “The Palmer murder was twelve years ago. He died eight years ago. That’s four years before Tiffany and her husband moved into the area.”

“Who’s Eddie Palmer?” Tiffany asked in a worried tone.

Stan reached for her hand.

“A murderer who’s MO was the same as that of the guy threatening you,” Cameron said.

“Then maybe this Palmer guy wasn’t your killer,” Stan Frost said.

“Yes, he was.” Joshua cocked his head at Cameron while replying, “We did get the right guy.”

“Tiffany!” A plump young man dressed in ill-fitting khaki slacks and a sweater rushed into the office and over to where Tiffany was sitting. He hurtled Cameron, who was sitting in his way, before plopping down next to the pregnant woman. “I was outside talking to Beverly and she told me that you got another death note. Are you okay?”

“She’s fine, Walter,” Stan insisted.

Whirling around to Joshua, Walter demanded to know, “What are you doing to protect her?”

Cameron answered, “We’re going to stay with her until we catch the creep terrorizing her.”

“That’s not good enough,” Walter said.

“Excuse me,” Cameron said, “who are you?” She turned to Stan. “Who is he?”

“This is Walter Bentley,” Stan said. “Vice President in charge of IT, our computer technology.”

Walter hovered over Tiffany. “I think you should come stay with me. I live in a security building.”

Tiffany fought to stand up. “I’d rather stay in my own home.”

Cameron noticed Joshua craning his neck to peer out the door into the reception area. “You don’t need to worry, Walter. We’ll be with Tiffany every second until this is over.”

“Got it!” Hannah sang out in a chipper tone while hurrying into the office. “Sorry I took so long. I had to go to the ladies room. Bentley, you left your binder on Beverly’s desk.” While reaching over Joshua’s shoulder, the vice president dropped the binder onto the coffee table. Its contents spilled across the tabletop. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Joshua, Stan, and Cameron leaned over to help Walter collect the assortment of notes, much of it looking like gibberish to put back into the binder.

“What the—” Stan Frost uttered a curse while lifting up a note on white stationary. “Why—” Sputtering, he held out the note to Joshua.

“What is it?” Hannah asked.

While Stan glared at Walter, whose face turned white with shock, Joshua read out loud:

Roses are dead;

Now they are gone;

And so are you.

Rest in peace.

Tiffany shrieked.

“What—” Walter turned to Cameron for help. “I never saw that before in my life.”

“Walter, how could you?” Hannah asked.

“It wasn’t me,” Walter insisted.

“You’re fired!” Stan said before ordering Cameron, “Arrest him.”

“Not before questioning him,” Cameron stood up. “Walter, we need to talk.”

“I didn’t do it.” Walter was near tears. “Tiffany, you have to believe me. I would never hurt you. I love you. Can’t you see that?”

“Do you call terrorizing a poor girl love?” Stan asked.

“He needs help,” Hannah said. “Our company offers psychological counseling for our employees—”

“I don’t need psychological counseling!” Walter shouted. “Someone planted that in my binder. I’m being framed.” He turned to Cameron. “Can’t you see that?”

Cameron took Walter by the arm. “Of course, I see that,” she said. “Let’s go to one of the conference rooms and talk.”

“Tiffany …” Walter begged as the detective led him out by the arm.

Stan Frost shook his head. “I don’t believe it.”

Tiffany’s eyes filled with tears while she rubbed her stomach. “I don’t either. Walter seemed like such a nice sweet gentle man. Socially awkward, but sweet.”

“Those are always the ones you need to look out for, honey,” Hannah said.

“I need to go call him a lawyer.” Tiffany pulled herself up to her feet.

“Why?” Stan demanded to know.

“Because I can’t believe Walter did it,” she said.

“He was planning to kill you,” Hannah said. “I’ve seen crazies like him before. He’s fixated on you. First chance he gets, he’ll take you out. Believe me.”

“I can’t believe Walter would ever do anything to hurt me.” Tiffany waddled to the door. “I’m going to go call a friend of mine.”

“We have a legal service.” Hannah tucked her organizer under her arm. “I’ll call them.”

Joshua caught Stan by the arm when he tried to follow Hannah and Tiffany out the door. “We need to talk.” The president’s mouth hung open while Joshua closed the door, turned around, and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Do you have something to say to me, Mr. Thornton?”

“When are you planning to tell her?”

“Tell who what?” Gradually, the firm expression softened to one of concern.

“Tiffany,” Joshua replied. “When do you plan to tell her that you’re her father?”

“What—” Stan dropped his façade. “How did you know?”

“I have two daughters,” Joshua said. “Most people, with their dirty minds, would mistake your affection toward Tiffany as something perverted. But I saw it for what it is. Fatherly love. Cameron told me that Tiffany’s mother was single. Riding in like a knight in shining armor right when she needed it—that didn’t just happen. She needed help and your paternal feelings wouldn’t let you not help her.”

Stan Frost went behind his desk and opened a drawer. He removed a yellowed envelope from inside and tossed it onto the center of his desktop. He nodded his head at Joshua. “Read it. It’s all there.”

Joshua picked up the envelope and took out the stationary filled with a woman’s handwriting in cursive. The signature line read Ashley Ambrose.

While Joshua scanned the contents of the letter, Stan told him, “Biggest mistake I ever made in my life. I fell in love with Ashley at first sight. She was my everything, but I didn’t realize it until it was too late. My mother hated her. She was a domineering, prejudice—even hateful woman.”

“Your mother?”

“But she was my mother.” Stan nodded his head. “She kept calling Ashley a JAP.”

“Jewish American Princess.”

“When Ashley and I became engaged, my mother was furious,” Stan said. “She ordered me to choose. Her or Ashley.”

Joshua stopped reading and looked across the desk at the company president, whose face was filled with sorrow.

“I choose poorly.”

“You didn’t know Ashley was pregnant,” Joshua noted the contents of the letter.

“She was hurt, which she had every reason to be. She left the area and never looked back.” Stan pointed at the letter. “I never heard from her until she sent me that letter when she was dying.”

“She told Tiffany that you had abandoned them.” Joshua put his finger on the words in the letter. “By the time she realized how much she had hurt Tiffany by poisoning her against you, it was too late.”

“Do you blame her?” Stan dropped down into the chair behind his desk. “I loved Ashley. She’s Tiffany’s mother.”

“Show her this letter,” Joshua said.

“And make Tiffany think her mother was a lying monster?” Stan shook his head. “Tiffany thinks her mother was a saint. I can’t dirty her memory like that.”

“What else can you do?” Joshua asked. “If you tell her that you’re her father, she’ll hate you for having abandoned her. If you show her this letter, you’ll crush the memory she has of her mother.”

“Now you know my dilemma,” Stan said. “As soon as I got that letter, I hired a private investigator to keep tabs on Tiffany. When she was graduating from college, I was at the ceremony to see her cross that stage. When she got married, I crashed her wedding. She never noticed me.”

“And when her husband died, you swooped in to bring her here and keep her safe.” Joshua dropped the letter onto the center of the desk. “What are your intentions?”

“You just said it. Keep her safe.”

“This is a family run company,” Joshua said. “Do you have any ex-wives or children—”

“I never married,” Stan said. “Ashley was the love of my life. The only heirs I have are Tiffany and her baby.”

Joshua leaned over the desk. “Mr. Frost, think about it. Who has the most to lose now that your daughter is on the radar?”

Stan looked up at him.

“You’re the president of a multi-million-dollar company,” Joshua told him. “You brought her in and made her your executive assistant. Don’t tell me that she’s going to stay that. Don’t tell me that you aren’t grooming her to take this chair when you decide to retire.”

“No one knows that she’s my daughter.”

“But you’re grooming her for the fast track.” While Stan stared up at him in silence, Joshua asked, “Who has the most to lose since Tiffany came here? What about your senior vice president?”

“Not him,” Stan said with certainty.

“How can you be so sure?”

“He’s dying,” Stan said. “Prostate cancer. He’s been out for the last six weeks. There’s nothing they can do. He’s got maybe another two weeks to live.” He added, “No one knows about it.”

“No one?” Joshua asked. “Absolutely no one on this planet knows?”

Stan hesitated. “Except the other vice presidents. Hannah and Walter.” He sat up. “Walter Bentley.”

“Who will take the senior vice president’s slot after the current one passes?”

“Tiffany,” Stan replied in a soft voice.

“If she wasn’t here, then who?”

Stan was silent.

“Whoever that is, has the most to lose by Tiffany’s very existence,” Joshua said. “Or, in other words, that person has the most to gain from her murder.”

The cell phone vibrated on Joshua’s hip. While Stan gazed up at him with wide eyes, he checked the text message on the screen. “Cameron’s in trouble.”

The elevator doors flew open and the EMTs came rushing out with a gurney between them.

“This way!” Beverly, the president’s administrative assistant, directed them down the corridor to the conference room.

Lieutenant Dugan came out from the corner of the elevator where he had squeezed on. He followed the EMTs into the conference room where Joshua was bent over Cameron, whose body was crumpled in the corner. “What happened?” the police lieutenant asked.

Stan, Hannah, Tiffany, and the assistant grabbed the opportunity to crowd into the doorway to hear Joshua’s answer.

“She got jumped,” Joshua said. “She was questioning a suspect and somehow he grabbed her gun and beat her with it.”

“We have serious head trauma,” one of the EMT yelled into his radio.

“What about this suspect?” the lieutenant asked Joshua.

“He got away,” Joshua replied.

“Where were you?” the lieutenant shouted.

“Hey, don’t use that tone with me,” Joshua said. “I don’t work for you. Cameron was here on her own time trying to help this woman and I was here because she’s my wife. Now my wife could die and you’re accusing me of—”