Nowhere to Hide (7 page)

Maybe he could ask Colleen to pump Doris. Involve a civilian? By the book? Hell. He’d barely started his investigation and he was already outside the goddamn library.

He had to agree with Doris that Kimberly Simon was a pain in the neck, but so far, Kimberly seemed to be alone in thinking there was something wrong. And what was her relationship with Jeffrey? If they were as close as she claimed, why hadn’t Jeffrey been in touch? Or maybe it was like Doris had said, and all she wanted was money and Jeffrey was ducking her. He reached for a legal pad from the desk drawer and wrote Kimberly’s name at the top of the page.

He dug through his notebook for her number and dialed the phone. He’d barely announced himself before she flew into him.

“
Did you find him? What does that woman know? Did he give her permission to live there?”

“
Slow down, Mrs. Simon. I’ll answer your questions, but one at a time. No, I haven’t found him and the tenant doesn’t seem to know anything.”

“
You’d better double check on that. Maybe she and Doris are in cahoots. The old bat would do anything to stay out of a home.”

He flipped a page and wrote Doris’ name at the top before continuing. “I will. Now I have a couple of questions for you.” He flipped to Kimberly’s page and took a breath. “Your mother married Jeffrey Walters when you were twelve, right? And divorced him eight years later.”

“
That’s right.” After an extra beat, Kimberly continued. “But Daddy and I are close. He adopted me after one year, you know. And he honestly cares about Billy, even though there’s no blood connection.”

He moved on. “Have you heard anything more from your father? Mrs. Walters said she would tell him to call you.”

“
I had an e-mail last night, but it seemed fishy.”

“
What do you mean by that?”

“
It was businesslike, short and it seemed, I don’t know, off, somehow. He usually includes something for Billy. A joke, something he’d call ‘guy stuff’ or maybe a link to a website Billy might enjoy. He hasn’t been doing that lately.”

Graham started taking notes. “How long would you say these ‘off’ e-mails have been coming?”

“
I can’t say. I mean, I didn’t pay much attention at first. I don’t save them, so I can’t be sure, but I think at least for the last month.”

She’d calmed down and he relaxed. He moved down his mental list of questions, writing down her answers. “What can you tell me about his business? Any partners, associates, assistants? A secretary?”

“
Daddy is pretty much a loner. He works out of his home office because he spends so much time on the road. I think he used a private temp service from time to time when he needed clerical help, but I can’t tell you which one. He’s had some setbacks lately, and Doris had invested big time in some of his deals. I think that’s why he let her live in the apartment rent-free.”

“
Okay, so do you have any knowledge of what he’s working on now? Doris said he’s in Alabama.”

“
That’s what his e-mails have said, but he never says much while he’s working on a deal.”

“
Do you know what he was working on before the Alabama trip?”

“
No. But before that, I think his last project was something local, near the space coast. He was pretty sure it was going to be a big one. Make up for his losses.”

“
Mrs. Simon, I have to ask you this.” He paused. “Do you know of anyone who might want your father out of the picture for a while?” He wished he’d been able to interview her face to face, to watch her eyes.

“
Daddy? I can’t imagine why. I mean, yeah, some people don’t like land developers, but the truth is, Daddy is pretty damn ethical. He follows the rules and tries to leave things natural where he can.”

Right. Leave a few trees or a pond while you build your golf course and condos and destroy habitat.

He moved on. “Do you have a picture of your father? Something you could fax?”

“
I don’t have a fax machine, but I’ve got a picture of Daddy. I could scan it and e-mail it.”

“
Even better. Thanks.” That should save him trying to wheedle one out of Doris. He gave her his e-mail address. “I’ll watch for it. And please let me know if you hear from him. I’ll be in touch.”

“
Wait!” Kimberly said. “Granger. No. Gravely. Stuart Gravely. That’s the name of someone Daddy worked with on the local deal. I think I met him at a cocktail party when Daddy was looking for backers. I don’t know anything more than his name. Does that help?”

“
It can’t hurt. Thank you, Mrs. Simon. You’ve been helpful.”

“
Let me know what you find, Deputy Harrigan.”

When he hung up, he felt a surge of excitement. With Kimberly’s worries about her father and the name of a business associate, he had enough to do a little more digging. He smiled as he turned to his computer.

He discovered a Gravely Enterprises in the phone book at a downtown address and went to report to Schaeffer.

Twenty minutes later Schaeffer slid back the passenger seat in Graham’s cruiser. “You take the lead. You’ll do fine.”

“
Thanks. I appreciate the chance, even if you don’t think there’s much of a case here.” Graham pulled out from the station and pointed the cruiser down Highway 50.

“
We don’t have enough for a warrant,” Schaeffer said. “How are you going to play it?”

“
I’ll keep it low key, say I’m gathering background information. Find out if they were working together and if so, how much personal contact, when he saw him last, that kind of stuff. Nothing to indicate we think there might be a problem.”

“
Do we think there’s a problem?” Schaeffer asked.

“
Not officially. But my gut’s starting to wonder.”

“
That’s probably the third donut you scarfed before we left.”

“
It was two. You know we can’t be seen eating them in public, so when someone brings in Krispy Kremes, you have to grab them quick.”

“
Proctor teach you that?”

Graham gritted his teeth. Even long-retired, his training partner kept coming back to haunt him. Not for the first time, Graham wondered if he caught so many less-than-plum assignments because of incidents he’d thought well behind him. He forced a calmness to his voice. “I managed to figure that one out on my own.” He made his way through the maze of downtown one-way streets and pulled into the parking garage underneath the high-rise building.

They crossed the marble-floored lobby to the elevator and Graham let Schaeffer precede him.

“
Twenty-three,” Graham said and Schaeffer pressed the button. As the car ascended, Graham thought Schaeffer might have been right about the donuts. He took a few deep breaths as he fixed his gaze on the lighted numbers appearing on the display above the door. He couldn’t screw up this chance to score some points with Schaeffer.

With a ding, the doors opened on the twenty-third floor, and this time Schaeffer held back. “Go for it,” he said. “It’s not much different from what you do on Patrol interviews.”

“
Got it.” Hell, for all Graham knew, Jeffrey Walters would be in conference with Gravely and he’d look like an idiot for thinking this was some big missing persons case. At least with the picture Kimberly had sent, he knew what Jeffrey looked like, or had looked like a few years ago. Short-cropped gray hair, receding hairline, and a neatly trimmed beard gave the man a grandfatherly appearance. From the way he looked at Billy instead of the camera, Grandpa Jeffrey definitely cared about the child.

Graham and Schaeffer’s footsteps echoed on the tiled corridor. The walls were paneled at the bottom half in deep, rich wood, with a neutral textured wallpaper above. Framed photographs of Orlando when it was mostly orange groves hung between office doors along the walls. “Twenty-three sixteen,” Schaeffer said. “Gravely Enterprises.” He waited.

Pleased his hands were dry, Graham turned the knob.

Inside the office, a young woman set down a magazine. Her sleek blonde hair curved around her jawbones and Graham thought she’d gone a little heavy on the eye makeup. Her blue eyes widened as she took in the two men. She slid the magazine into a drawer and gave them a tentative smile. “Can I help you?”

“
I hope so. I’m Deputy Harrigan and this is Deputy Schaeffer. We’d like to see Mr. Gravely.”

“
Is there a problem?” Her gaze shifted from him to Schaeffer and back again.

“
No,” Graham said. “Mr. Gravely’s name came up in an investigation, and we have some routine questions.”

“
Mr. Gravely isn’t here now. Can I help with something?”

Graham stepped closer to the desk, pleased she wasn’t one of those who immediately went on the defensive. “When do you expect him?”

“
Not today. He’s out on calls.”

“
Is that normal?” he asked.

“
Pretty much. I’m a temp. I come in three days a week.” She gave Graham a friendly smile.

“
Mind if we ask you some questions then?” He returned her smile. “Miss—?”

“
Erica Dorsett. Call me Erica. Sure. Have a seat.” She motioned to the chair opposite the desk. Graham noticed a small diamond solitaire on her left hand.

He took the indicated seat and Schaeffer settled on a padded bench by the door. “How long have you been working for Mr. Gravely, Erica?”

“
About three months. He used to have a full-time secretary, but things got tight and he couldn’t afford one anymore, I think. We temps don’t get benefits, so we end up being cheaper.”

Graham smiled. Erica was a babbler. He relaxed and pulled out his notebook. “What is it you do for Mr. Gravely?”

“
Mostly filing and phones. Keeping track of appointments.” She leaned across the desk. “But I can access most of his computer files. Sometimes it’s really slow, so I like to see what he’s done. He’s had some pretty interesting projects. I can tell from his books and the bills—some of them are getting nasty—that he’s not doing too well now.”

“
Tell me, Erica. Have you ever noticed an appointment with a Jeffrey Walters?”

“
Name sounds familiar.” She turned to the computer. “Let me check.” She paused and looked Graham in the eye. “People”— she cut her gaze toward Gravely’s door— “think because we’re temps, we’re stupid. I’ve got as many skills as any executive secretary on the market, but I don’t want to be tied down to that kind of a career right now. I’m a singer and this pays for lessons.”

She clicked a few keys, played with the mouse. “Jeffrey Walters. Yes, Mr. Gravely was working with him on some project near the east coast. They met regularly over the last”—she clicked the mouse a few more times— “eight months.”

“
And have you ever seen Mr. Walters?” He reached into his pocket for the picture Kimberly had sent.

“
A couple of times, yes, when he came here for meetings.”

He handed her the picture. “Do you recognize him?”

She studied it, then pointed to Walters. “Yeah, that’s him. He’s a little older looking now, but that’s the man who was here.”

Graham thanked her and took the picture back. “What was the project, do you know?”

“
Some sort of residential community. I think there might be a set of drawings somewhere in his office, but Mr. Gravely locks it. He doesn’t trust me, but he has no clue I can get into his computer files. Like I said, people think temps are dumb.”

“
I don’t think you’re dumb at all, Erica,” Graham said. “What can you find out about this project?”

“
I think it went belly-up, because there’s nothing left about it in the computer except an old invitation list to some fund-raising reception about a year ago.”

“
Do you think I could have a copy of those names?”

“
I don’t see why not.” She clicked again and the printer hummed.

He glanced at Schaeffer, who was studying his fingernails. Graham took it as a good sign, because he had no doubt Schaeffer would jump in if he got off track. “When was the last time Mr. Walters was here? Do you remember?”

“
Oh sure, because there was this argument. They were hollering at each other about the project being delayed or something. I answered the phone, he took the call and then they both rushed out. I remember because Mr. Gravely said I could go home and he’d pay me for the full day. That wasn’t like him. He usually watches my breaks and lunches to the minute.”

“
Would you have a record of the call?”

“
I log all incoming calls.” She leafed through a book of phone message copies. “Here. On October fifteenth. A call from Frank Townsend. The check-mark means I put the call through to Mr. Gravely.”

“
Do you know who Mr. Townsend is?” He could hear Schaeffer moving behind him. Graham knew he was paying close attention now.

“
No, but I can probably find out. Give me a minute.”

“
Take your time.” Graham tried to control his impatience as Erica clicked and typed, made faces and chewed on her lip. He had a gut feeling there was a connection here and he wanted it.

“
Here. Found him in billing. Frank Townsend. Environmental Consulting in Gainesville.” She clicked a few more times, eyes never leaving the monitor. “He’s in the computer a few times. Nothing specific, seems he only billed for hours. Last invoice was eighteen months ago.”

“
You have an address and phone number for him?”

“
Sure.” She hit a key and the printer hummed again. “Anything else?” She handed him the printouts.

“
Not now, but we might be back. You’ve been very helpful.” He stood. “Thank you for your time.”