Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 3) (3 page)

In a way, I was glad I didn't have to do much talking. My first night in Florida and all I really wanted was some alone time with Max. I tried to make the best of it and I drank the wine offered to me. Before I knew it, I had downed three glasses and was starting to feel a bit tipsy.

By the time the dishes were cleared from the table, I had a nice glow. Dennis announced that he'd like to retire to the balcony for a cigarette. He invited anyone to join him, but it appeared no one else smoked. Not even his son, Andrew offered to join him, so Max – being the gracious guest – finally offered. Before taking leave, he leaned into me and whispered. “I promise we'll leave in ten minutes.”

I nodded, but knowing Dennis's propensity to gab, I figured another hour at least.

With Dennis and Max gone, that left Jennifer, Andrew, Brook, Vivian and Roy. Brook stood up and said, “Please excuse me, I should probably check on the caterers, make sure they know where to put things away.”

Vivian offered to go help. That left Andrew, Jennifer and Roy. I excused myself to go to the bathroom.

Jennifer stood up, her eyes eagerly searching mine. “Let me show you were it is.”

“Not necessary,” I said. “I'm sure I can find it.”

Jennifer sat back down, as if resigned to her fate to talk to Andrew and Roy. I couldn't blame her for wanting to get away.

The bathroom was larger than my whole apartment back in New Hampshire. There was a sitting area with a couch – just in case one wanted to take a nap or read a book in the bathroom – a hot tub, a sauna, and a changing area that actually had a flat screen TV. It was ridiculous and over the top, but I was thankful. I didn't need to pee; I just didn't want to talk to Andrew or Jennifer, or especially Roy. I needed a few moments of privacy to collect my thoughts. I lowered myself onto the chaise lounge, leaned back into a pillow and closed my eyes. It had been a long day, since I’d been up since five that morning. My head was spinning from the wine, but it felt good to rest.

I could have fallen asleep right then and there if it wasn't for the scream.

My eyes shot open and I sat up. Was it a dream, or had someone actually screamed? I stood up and rushed back to the dining room.

Everyone was gathered by the balcony doors. Brook was frantically pressing buttons on her cell phone, and a second later, she was pleading with the operator to send an ambulance right away because her husband was having a heart attack.

A heart attack?

I joined the others by the balcony and looked down. Max was on the ground, giving CPR to Dennis, who was sprawled out on the floor, eyes closed.

Max kept his cool, and was very methodical as he counted each compression with expert ease.

Next to me, Jennifer was crying, her hands cupped over her mouth as she watched in horror. She was making pitiful, moaning sounds, which did nothing to help the situation.

Behind Jennifer, Andrew stood erect, eyes wide, jaw slack. He was making no move to help, and I figured he must have been in shock.

Vivian and Roy stayed way back, seemingly unsure of what to do.

The caterers stayed in the kitchen, whispering amongst themselves with worried expressions.

I rushed over to Brook as soon as she was off the phone and offered my assistance, but she ignored me as she pushed her way outside. She kneeled beside her husband as Max continued chest compressions.

The sound of ambulance sirens could be heard in the distance. “Come on, honey,” Brook said to her unconscious husband. “Hang in there, please. Just hang in there.”

Max continued with the CPR, but it didn't seem to be doing any good. He finally stopped to take Dennis's pulse. Max's frown confirmed the worst.

“No,” Brook said, her voice but a whisper. “No, no, no.”

Chapter 3

The next morning, I opened my eyes to the bright sunlight pouring in from the balcony door. My head hurt. The memory of the night before came rushing back.

Dennis Foster. Heart attack. Dead.

Doctors confirmed that he'd suffered an aortic dissection, most likely caused from extremely high blood pressure.

I smelled the coffee. Thank God for coffee. Moments later, Max entered the bedroom and handed me a cup and sat next to me.

“Thanks,” I said. “How are you holding up? Did you get any sleep last night?”

Max made an effort to smile, but it didn't work. “No sleep.”

I rubbed his back. “You know you did everything you could for him. Even the doctor said he was probably dead when he hit the ground.”

Max hung his head and sipped his coffee. “I know. It just sucks.”

We sat there in silence for a while. There was nothing to say.

“So what happens now?” I asked. “Shouldn't we send Brook flowers or something?”

“I already did. They should be delivered this morning at some point. I should also call Andrew to confirm I still have a job, but I'll wait until tomorrow out of respect.” Max stood up but he seemed hesitant. “Um, Sarah?”

I looked up at him. He was chewing his lower lip.

“Yeah?”

He stared at his feet and sighed. “Jennifer called a few minutes ago. She's really upset over Dennis. I told her she could come over here, hang out with us for a bit.”

“You did?”

“What was I supposed to say? Her boss just died and she's really taking it hard.” Max closed his eyes and rubbed his temple. “I'm sorry. I should have asked you first.”

“No, it's fine. I understand, really.” I dragged myself out of bed. “I suppose I should get dressed.”

Jennifer arrived ten minutes later and she looked like hell. Her hair was a mess and her t-shirt was inside out. Her eyes were red and swollen. She hugged Max and they remained in an embrace for what felt like forever. Finally, she let go of him, wiped her eyes, and then came over and hugged me.

“Sarah, thanks for letting me come over. God, I'm such a wreck.”

I sat her down and handed her a mug of coffee. “I'm so sorry for your loss.”

Jennifer accepted the coffee with a sad smile. “Thank you. I just can't believe it.”

“I know.” I passed her the cream and sugar. “Dennis seemed like a great guy and I'm sure he'll be missed.”

Jennifer stirred some cream into her coffee, her hands trembling. “And now, it looks like I'm out of a job. I really liked working for Dennis. He was one the nicest bosses I ever had.”

“Well, Andrew is taking over the business,” I said. “Won't he find a position to keep you on the payroll?”

“I don't know if I want to work for Andrew,” Jennifer said, staring into her coffee mug.

I remembered the way Andrew fawned over her at the dinner party. Perhaps he made her feel uncomfortable with all the attention. “Well,” I said, “If that doesn't work out, I'm sure there are thousands of wealthy people in Palm Beach who could use your services.”

Jennifer looked over at Max, sitting at the kitchen table and quietly listening to our conversation. “What about you?” she asked him. “I assume you'll finish the installation?”

Max shrugged. “I'll wait to hear from Andrew. I hope he'll honor the contract I had with his father.”

And then, Jennifer broke out into a sob. She covered her face with her hands. “I don't know why this is affecting me so much. It's not like I even knew Dennis for very long.”

“It's probably lack of sleep.” I handed her a tissue. “But you should just cry if you need to. Don't keep it bottled up inside. Not healthy.”

Jennifer wiped her eyes. “Thank you for saying that, Sarah. Truth is, I'm embarrassed to say that I haven't really made any friends since I moved to this town a few months ago. I've been busy with work, fixing up the house.”

“So you have your own home?” I asked.

“It's a rental. Just a ten minute-walk from here. It was very convenient for work, but now I'm not sure I'll be able to keep it. The rent is pretty high around here.”

The three of us sat at the kitchen table, sipping coffee in silence. I was afraid to say anything about Dennis, in case it might trigger another emotional outburst.

Finally, Jennifer pushed her empty coffee mug aside and stood up. “I think I'll go. You guys probably want to be alone. Besides, it's a beautiful day out there. I’ll take a walk on the beach or something.”

Max looked at me with uncertainty, like he was waiting for me to say something. And I was pretty sure I knew exactly what he wanted me to say.

“Hey Jenn,” I said, trying my best to sound convincing. “You're welcome to stay as long as you like.”

She stared at me in wonder. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Of course,” I said.

Fresh tears emerged as she smiled appreciatively. “Thank you.”

I went to make another pot of coffee. We were all going to need it, especially me.

* * *

It wasn't so bad hanging out with Jennifer, at least not as bad as I'd imagined. She respectfully kept her distance from Max, never once reaching out to touch his leg, or even linger in her glances.

I actually found myself laughing at some of her attempts to joke around. I appreciated her efforts to try and be positive instead of being a
Debbie downer.

When lunchtime rolled around, we ordered pizza delivery and shared a bottle of white wine. At 12:30, Max received a call on his cell phone. It was Brook, calling to thank us for the flowers. Max spoke quietly with her for a few minutes and then held the phone out for me, confusion showing on his face. “Brook would like a word with you.”

I couldn't imagine why she would want to talk to me, but I accepted the phone from Max. “Hello?” I said.

“Sarah?” It was Brook's voice. She sounded breathy and a little weak. “I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if you might be able to come up to the penthouse.”

I paused, not sure how to reply. “Um, well, okay. Do you need help with something?”

“Yes,” she said abruptly. “Can you come now? Please?”

“I'll be there in five minutes.”

Max and Jennifer were staring at me when I ended the call.

“Brook needs to see me,” I said. “She didn't say why.”

“That's weird.” Max put his phone back into his back pocket. “Did she want you to go alone?”

“She didn't say that specifically, but I assume so.”

Jennifer tilted her head to the side, perplexed. “Brook barely knows you. What do you think it's about?”

“I haven't the vaguest idea.” I grabbed my purse and headed to the door. “But whatever it is, it seems urgent.”

“Okay,” Max said, scratching his head. “We'll be waiting right here till you get
back.”

Chapter 4

Brook handed me a glass of water with lemon, then joined me on the plush sofa overlooking the view of the Atlantic Ocean. She was wearing silk pants and a white cotton blouse, her strawberry-blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. Diamond stud earrings glittered as sunlight poured in from the balcony glass doors. “Sarah, I'm hoping you might be able to help me with something.”

“Sure, anything you need.” I took a sip of water and waited for her to explain.

“You see, when we spoke last night about your work, it got me thinking. A private detective is required to keep client confidentiality, correct?”

“Well,” I replied. “It's not the same as an attorney, but discretion is an important aspect of my business.”

“I see.” She focused on her hands again, nodding slowly. “I'd like to hire you for a small task, but it's a very private matter.”

I couldn’t imagine what Brook needed from me, but by the serious expression in her face, it was important to her. But my hands were tied. “I'm afraid I won't be able to help,” I said. “I'm not licensed to practice in the state of Florida.”

“I understand. That's why I'm willing to pay a premium if you'll take the job.”

I swirled the lemon around in my glass, watching it float to the surface. I could have ended the conversation, tell her to find someone else, but I was curious. I suppose that’s one of the reasons I got into the business to begin with. There was a satisfaction that came with helping someone with their issues, but even more than that, I liked solving puzzles. When I finally looked up and into her eyes, I saw desperation. It was a look I’d seen many times before. .

“Okay,” I said. “I'm willing to hear you out. But I can't make any promises.”

Her tense facial muscles seemed to relax a bit as she leaned back a little. “Fair enough. I'm not quite sure where to begin. I know it will seem like a strange request, especially so soon after Dennis ...” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “After my husband's death.”

“Take your time,” I said softly.

She breathed out audibly, then opened her eyes. They were moist. “About a month ago, I got a letter in the mail. A blackmail letter, demanding one hundred thousand dollars.”

I blinked in surprise. It was the last thing I expected her to say. “Blackmail? For what?”

“This person, whoever they are, has a photo of me. They threatened to show it to Dennis if I didn't pay.”

“A photo of what?”

Brook lowered her gaze as her cheeks changed color. “I can't tell you that. I'm sorry.”

“I assume it was of a sexual nature?”

She nodded, keeping her gaze on her lap. “The affair started a few months after Dennis and I were married.” Her eyes rose to meet mine. “You must think I'm a horrible person, having an affair so soon after a wedding, but I might as well tell you, Dennis was not faithful either.”

I had only met Dennis the day before. I knew very little about him or his life, or Brook's, but the information didn't exactly surprise me. “Dennis didn't know about
your
affair?”

“No. If he ever found out, I'd have been out on the street. He made it very clear in our pre-nup that screwing around wouldn't be tolerated.”

“Did you pay the money?”

“Yes. A hundred thousand in cash.”

“Do you still have the blackmail letter?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I was paranoid, so I burned it along with the photo. But I can tell you exactly what it said. The letter specifically said to place the money in a brown paper bag, go to the West Palm Beach Airport, and place it into the trash bin inside the women's restroom located at the United Airlines baggage claim at precisely ten in the morning on the fifteenth of March. I followed the directions perfectly and never received another letter, so I assume they got their money.”

“You never contacted the police?”

“No way. I had to handle this myself. I couldn't risk Dennis finding out.”

“Who else knew about the affair?”

“Nobody,” she said. “I never breathed a word of it to anyone.”

“How about your lover?”

“No way. I'm sure of it.”

I set my water glass down on the side table and looked her squarely in the eyes. “Why is this important to you, Brook? Are you looking to get the money back?”

“I don't care about the money, it's not about that. I just want to find out who the blackmailer is.”

I had to admit, if I were Brook, I wouldn’t be able to rest until I knew who was behind it. “Can you at least tell me where the affair took place, or specifically, where the photo was taken?”

“Foster Realty is located on the first floor in this building,” she said. “Dennis was rarely in his office. He'd usually take his clients out to fancy lunches at the Ritz, or conduct business elsewhere. He was out of town a lot, too. Andrew is rarely in the office, either. He prefers to conduct business on the golf course. You met Vivian last night. She's usually the only one in the office, doing paperwork and such. But she leaves by five-thirty every night like clockwork.”

“Are you saying that you had sex with someone at your husband's office?”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and nodded. “Pretty foolish, right? I know. But I was positive that all the doors were locked. I'm sure nobody was around. Whoever got into the office had a key.”

“Okay,” I said. “So who has a key to the office?”

“Other than Dennis, Andrew and Vivian? Only one person I can think of is Angela Foster, Dennis's daughter.”

“I didn't know he had a daughter.”

“She's a few years younger than Andrew, and a real piece of work, too. She can't hold down a job; been living on handouts from her dad. Dennis offered her jobs in the company many times, but she simply didn't want to work. A few months ago, Dennis finally put his foot down. He was not giving her any more money.”

“So you think she's the blackmailer?”

“She needed the money.” Brook sighed. “Plus, she hates me.”

“Why does she hate you?”

Brook averted her eyes. “Dennis's wife died from emphysema, about a year before we got married. Angela was very close to her mom. I guess I can't blame her for being a little resentful.”

“If she really wanted to hurt you,” I said, “then why didn't she rat you out to her dad?”

A terse look crossed her face. “I thought about that, of course. I figured she probably needed the money more. Maybe she'd even planned to extort more money from me, but now that Dennis is gone, she has no leverage.”

“What about surveillance cameras in the building?” I asked. “You could check and see who entered the office on that night.”

Brook averted her eyes. “I had shut the surveillance down earlier that afternoon. Dennis had no idea it was me. He thought the system was malfunctioning, which was why he ended up hiring Max to reinstall a brand new unit.”

“Ah,” I said with a chuckle. “So there was nothing wrong with the surveillance system? Max's work here wasn't even necessary?”

“Please don't tell him,” she said with remorse. “I couldn't tell Dennis that I had shut the system down, he'd be suspicious. I couldn't risk having him catch me on video.”

I felt like asking her why she didn't just meet her lover in some hotel in another town, but that was beside the point. She did what she did, and that was that. “Look,” I said, carefully. “I don't want to sound condescending here, but your husband just died. Maybe you should take a few days to mourn before you jump into this business.”

She shook her head. “Look, you probably already know the score. Dennis married me because I'm twenty years younger and good in bed.
He
knows I married him for his money. It's not a big secret. Was I in love with him? Not really. I respected him, and even enjoyed some of our time together, but with Dennis … well, let's just say, it was
his
way or the highway. He was stubborn, selfish and a one-way prick. So I'm not going to play the grieving widow. Nobody would buy the act, anyway. Certainly not Dennis's kids.”

“I appreciate the honesty,” I said. “It's actually quite refreshing, but why me? There's probably dozens of private eyes in Palm Beach who could help you.”

“Angela has connections in this town because of her dad. I can't run the risk of hiring someone she might know. You're not from around here. And besides, I know we've just met, but I feel like I can trust you.”

I chuckled. “I appreciate that, but if you trust me, then why can't you tell me who your lover is?”

She mashed her lips together, probably thinking it over. Finally, she shook her head emphatically. “I'm sorry, I just can't.”

“So, what would you have me do? Look into Angela's financials to see if she came into a large sum of money last month?”

“Do whatever you have to do. Break into her apartment, look through her belongings, bank accounts, whatever. You can do that sort of stuff, right?”

I hesitated, remembering the last time I had done just that. I had broken into a sex offender’s home, to retrieve some sex tapes that our client wanted to get back. As it turned out, the whole thing was a scam and I had almost gotten the shit kicked out of me. After that, I haven’t been so keen on breaking and entering. I left that up to Carter. “Well, I can't just break into someone's place. I could get arrested and lose my license. It's not that I
haven't
done that before, but the circumstances have to be dire.”

Brook waved a hand as if it were no big deal. “I know there are risks involved, but that's why I'm willing to pay you handsomely. How does ten thousand dollars sound?”

I gulped. “Ten grand?”

“Yes.”

I sat back, giving myself a moment to think. “I didn't bring any equipment with me. I'm supposed to be on vacation.”

She tapped her manicured nails on the sofa, perhaps pondering a solution. “What about your partner back in New Hampshire? That Carter guy. Have him fly down here and bring the equipment.”

“I could call and ask him, but I'm not sure he'd be willing to do that,” I said.

She finally looked up with a hopeful smile. “I'll add another ten thousand for Carter. That should make it worth both your efforts. Tell him he has a place to stay. There's a unit on the sixth floor that's available for him. Please, Sarah, help me with this.”

Ten grand was more than I'd made in the last six months. How could I pass it up? But money wasn’t everything. I didn’t want to fall into the trap and make hasty decisions just because of the figure. No, I needed to give this some serious thought. “I'll need to think about your offer,” I said. “I'll call Carter as soon as I can and see what he says. I can't promise that he'll want to make the trip.”

Brook took my hands and squeezed. “Thank you so much. I can have half of your money by this afternoon. Could you come up to the penthouse around three o'clock?”

She already assumed I couldn’t pass up the money. Would she be right?

I checked my watch. It was almost one-thirty. “Let's make it four o'clock. After I speak with Carter, I'll have to discuss this with Max before I make a final decision.”

“But you won't tell him any details about the job, right?”

“Correct.”

“Good. Four o'clock, then.” She stood up from the couch, and I took that to mean she was done with our little chat.

I handed her my water glass as I walked to the door. “Just curious, when was the last time you saw Angela?”

She shrugged. “It was before the wedding.”

“Angela didn't go to the wedding?” I asked.

“Nope. Like I said, she hates that I took the place of her mother.”

I bit my tongue because I understood Angela’s feelings on that one. “And what about Andrew? How did he feel about you and his dad?”

“He doesn't seem to care one way or the other.” Brook not-so-casually glanced at her watch, letting me know that any other questions could probably wait.

I got the hint and continued to the door.