An Appointment With Murder (10 page)

“I don’t know what to say, Sarah. It’s the only thing I can come up with.” Gabby shrugged and walked back down the hall. I followed her into the reception area.

“So what do I do now? These pictures don’t make any sense,” I said.

“It proves that your client is a pervert, and possibly a murderer,” Gabby said. “If I were you, I’d call the detective and have him question your client again.”

“Shit,” I said, looking at the photos again. It just didn’t make any sense.

“Look, I have a client coming in a few minutes. I need to get my room ready.” Gabby headed back down the hall.

“Make sure you check your room for hidden cameras Gabby. You don’t want to find yourself on YouTube rubbing some guy’s hairy ass,” I called after her. It was a cheap shot, but I was at my wits end. All I could think to do was call Melissa to see if she might have any ideas about the photos.

* * *

“I don’t know what to say, Sarah,” Melissa said, handing the pictures back to me.

“So Beth never showed these to you? Do you have any idea why she’d have them?”

“Well, there must have been a reason. Are you gonna confront your client about them?”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I could help.” Melissa seemed noticeably less anxious than the last time we’d met. She was sitting in the front seat of my car, on the passenger side, while we talked.

“By the way, I talked to Max last night,” I said, slipping the photos back into my purse.

“You did?”

“He’s going to try to find Carter.”

“Good luck to him with that. I doubt you’ll find him. He’s not the kind of guy you find listed in the yellow pages.”

“I don’t get it. What’s the big deal? He’s just a private eye who bends the law, right? Why is he so mysterious?”

“According to Beth, Carter lost his license to practice. She didn’t know why, but he’s careful about covering his tracks. Beth told me once that he had a unique way of contacting her. Even though they used those throw away cell phones from time to time to avoid being traced, Carter had devised a foolproof way of setting up their meetings. He’d mail a card to our house, sometimes a thank you card, sometimes a birthday card. It would be different every time. The card would appear to be a friendly note, but in the message would be the details of when and where she was to meet him. Beth used to laugh at the silliness of it all. She used to say he was being overly cautious. I guess Carter has a flair for the dramatic. Either that, or it’s just part of his warped sense of humor. It wasn’t like they were dealing with murderers or anything. Mostly cheating spouses.” Melissa laughed softly and rolled her eyes. “I think Carter likes to think of himself as a secret agent or something.”

My brain was buzzing with all this new information. Then I remembered something. I reached into my purse, pulled out the card that had come in the mail for Beth, and handed it to her.

“This came in the mail a few days ago. It’s an engagement card addressed to Beth. I almost threw it out. Could it be from Carter?”

She inspected the card, opened it, and her eyes widened. She nodded slowly and laughed softly.

“Yep. This is from him. Beth was supposed to meet Carter tomorrow at three o’clock.”

“How can you be sure it’s from him?”

“Because it’s signed,
‘your cousin, Greg’.
He always signs his cards that way.”

“Do you think it’s possible he’ll still show up?”

“I don’t know, Sarah. But you’d better bring Max with you just in case.”

* * *

Heading home later that day, I decided I was going to kidnap my son and make him spend some time with me whether he wanted to or not. On the way, I phoned Max and left a message asking him to call me back. I had so much to tell him, and hoped he’d be able to go with me to meet Carter. Was it even likely, I wondered, that Carter would show up? What did he look like? I was beginning to feel I was in way over my head, but couldn’t deny the adrenalin rush I was feeling.

After stopping for cheeseburgers around four o’clock, Brian and I proceeded to Marshall’s and T.J. Maxx, from which we exited about two hours later with a cart-full of treasures. For me, a new outfit with matching shoes, silver hoop earrings, a wool jacket, and some lingerie I found on sale. For Brian, some highly sought after sneakers and a few shirts. It was after six when we headed home.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I joked, as we pulled up in front of the house. “Hanging with your mom for a few hours, getting in a little retail therapy.”

“Not so bad, I guess.” He shrugged and smiled at me.

“Somewhere in a distant galaxy, far, far into the future, this day will be a source of fond memories.” I patted him on the knee.

“Sure,” he said, opening his door.

Brian helped me carry the fruits of our shopping to the back door. When I went to unlock it, I noticed it was already open. I thought I’d locked it when we left, but couldn’t be sure. As soon as we walked in the house and I looked around, I knew something was wrong. My desk, which was situated between the kitchen and living room, and which I always kept impeccably neat, was in disarray, the two bottom drawers of my filing cabinet were ajar, and my laptop, which I usually left open, was closed.

We dropped our bags on the floor.

“We need to call the police, now!” I said, trying to remain calm.

“Why? What happened?”

“Someone broke in, Brian. Just call.”

As Brian dialed 911 on his cell phone, I listened for sounds of someone in the house, then walked down the hall and checked our bedrooms. The police cruiser arrived just as I was beginning to feel I might have jumped the gun.

I opened the front door to their knock, and two officers entered.

“You reported a break in?” one asked, looking around the room.

“Someone was here,” I said, beginning to doubt myself. “They went through my desk. Maybe they were looking for bank numbers or financial information. Maybe it was identity theft?”

“But nothing stolen?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I felt my cheeks flush. “Well, it’s hard to say. They may have stolen information.”

“Look, ma’am, unless we have proof that some kind of crime was committed, we can’t file a report. Now do you know for sure if anything was taken from your house?”

“No, I guess not,” I said.

After some further questions and admonitions, the officers left, and Brian and I stood looking at each other.

“I can’t deal with this right now. Call me paranoid, but I know someone was in this house. I’m going to call Gabby, see if we can crash at her place tonight. It’ll be like a slumber party.” There was a hollowness to the enthusiasm I was trying to generate, but Brian, although he looked skeptical, must have sensed my fragility and made no objection.

“`Kay, Mom,” he said, walking towards the bathroom, “I’ll get my toothbrush.”

* * *

Gabby picked up my overnight bag with one hand and Brian’s backpack with the other. “Why don’t you guys take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch,” she said, walking towards her bedroom.

“No, Gabby. We’ll make do in the living room.”

“No way. I haven’t forgotten that you let me stay at your house for two weeks when I got kicked out of my last place and had nowhere to go.”

So we followed her to her bedroom.

“Hold on a sec,” she said, holding up a hand just as we were about to enter, “let me make sure I don’t have any ’toys’ lying around.”

“Toys?” Brian repeated dubiously, as Gabby disappeared into the room.

“Yeah, I think she collects vintage dolls,” I lied.

“Okay. It’s all set, Make yourselves comfortable,” Gabby said, motioning us into her bedroom.

“Brian, why don’t you go on in and relax for a bit. Gabby and I need to talk.” I gently slipped my hand inside her arm and steered her back to the kitchen.

“You think I’m nuts, Gabby? I swear someone went through my desk today,” I said, slumping into one of her dining room chairs.

“Look, I know you’ve been stressed out the past few days. Who wouldn’t be? Maybe your mind is playing tricks on you.”

“That’s what Brian thinks.”

“You’re dealing with a lot right now. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I wish I knew what happened to Beth. It’s driving me mad.”

“So what’s the next move?”

“Well, I may have found a way to meet Carter.”

“That guy Beth worked for?”

“Yeah. I found out he was scheduled to meet Beth Saturday afternoon. Which reminds me, I’m still waiting for Max to call me back.”

Gabby walked over to the counter and grabbed a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. She set the glasses on the table in front of me and filled them.

“What about your client? Did you call him, yet?”

“Not yet. I’m still not sure about him.” I lifted my glass and sipped.

Gabby gave me a strange look. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t sip fine tequila from a shot glass,” she said, as if I should have known better.

“Well, pardon me,” I said, downing the rest of the clear liquid.

“That’s better.” She refilled the glass.

“Hey, slow down,” I said, raising a hand in protest. “I’m not used to drinking like this. Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“That’s the general idea.”

I walked into Gabby’s kitchen the next morning to freshly brewed coffee and a note on the table informing me that she had an early appointment. I decided Brian deserved to sleep in, so didn’t wake him. Although my hangover wasn’t as bad as I expected, I took some Advil anyway, poured myself a cup of coffee, and sat down at the kitchen table. Getting drunk twice in one week was not something I did often, and I was surprised at how well I was holding up. Nevertheless, I vowed to lay off the booze for a while. Just as I raised the cup to my lips and inhaled the aroma of the coffee, I heard my cell phone ringing. I spilled coffee setting the cup down, and dug into my purse for the phone. When I saw the caller ID, my heart skipped a beat.

“Hey, Sarah. It’s Max.” He sounded as if he’d just gotten up as well.

“Oh, God. Oh, good. Thanks for calling,” I said, a bit breathlessly.

“What’s up?” he asked, an odd tone in his voice. Could he possibly still be feeling awkward about the kissing episode, I wondered?

“I was hoping you could come over. I have some things to tell you concerning Carter.”

“Sure,” he replied, the warmth returning to his voice. “I can be there in half an hour.”

“Actually, can you come to Gabby’s house? Brian and I stayed here last night. I’ll explain when I see you.” I gave him her address.

“I’ll see you shortly,” he said, and hung up.

I walked back to Gabby’s bedroom. Brian was still sleeping, so I leaned over and gently kissed him on the cheek. The poor kid was a champ for putting up with such a neurotic mother. On my way out of the bedroom, I slipped into an oversized wool sweater I picked up off the floor and donned a baseball cap that was lying on top of her bureau. I brushed my teeth and found some lipstick in my purse. I was a little apprehensive about Max seeing me without my face on, but what did it really matter? I was married. He was too young. End of story.

Max was knocking on the door twenty minutes later. As I let him in, he smiled and pointed to my hat.

“You look cute.”

“Best I could do on such short notice.”

“It suits you.”

We went into the kitchen and I poured him a mug of coffee. We sat quietly for a few moments before I unloaded on him.

“Jacob and Lindy came to see me yesterday,” I began.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“She’s back in town?” He moved closer to me.

“They explained everything to me, and I don’t believe they had anything to do with Beth’s death. But something else has come up.” I spread the photos in front of him.

“Remember I told you about Lindy’s white Subaru?” I said, as he inspected the photos. “That night Beth got into it with her, these must have somehow slipped out of her purse. Lindy found them on her car seat the next morning. So my question is, how’d Beth get these?”

“Who is this guy? A client of yours, I presume.”

“His name is Jeff Gardner. He’s the guy I stayed late for the night Beth was murdered. But these photos weren’t taken that night, but almost two weeks before. See the date?”

“Yeah, but who took them?”

“Gabby thinks Jeff set up a camera or cell phone out of sight on a high shelf in the massage room. But why would he do that? As you can see, there’s nothing erotic going on here.”

“Don’t know. Maybe it wasn’t for the reason you’re thinking. There must be an explanation. Have you called him yet?”

“No. I don’t really know what to say. He’ll probably deny it anyway.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Max said, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Anyhow, I met with Melissa again yesterday to see if she knew anything about the photos. She didn’t. But we may have found a way to find Carter.” I took out the greeting card and handed it to him. I pointed to the name at the bottom.

“Cousin Greg? We don’t have a cousin Greg,” Max said.

“That’s the name Melissa said Carter always used when he sent these cards to Beth. She said Beth and Carter would send notes like this to each other with messages only they would understand the meaning of. Maybe one of Carter’s ‘jobs’ finally caught up to them in a really bad way.”

“That’s why I blew a gasket when Beth told me what she was doing with Carter. I knew it was just a matter of time before they got busted for something.”

I nodded and gnawed a fingernail.

“But surely Carter must know by now that Beth is dead. You don’t think he’ll still show up, do you?”

“I asked the police to keep her name out of the press until we’d had more time to find her killer. They balked, but eventually agreed to give me a week. There’s a chance Carter doesn’t know.” There was an edge of excitement in Max’s voice.

“Seems like a long shot. But we should devise a plan, anyway, don’t you think?”

“The plan is quite simple. I’m going to show up tomorrow at this location.”