Into The Heat (Sandy Reid Mystery Series Book 6) (7 page)

She smiled at him. “Just a teeny-weenie peek?”

He shrugged. “Just a peek.” He led her down the hall and after a tentative step into his large office, she said. “Awesome. This is like going into another country—yeah, like I’ve ever been in another country.” She stood looking around at the time-honored arrangement of rich tones and dark woods that screamed out years of high fees from his father’s law practice; all tastefully bedecked with irreplaceable garnishes and accoutrements. Rows of leather-bound books reached from floor to ceiling ensconced in a teak bookcase built into the wall behind his desk. Dark tinted shades partially covered the two windows.

“Wow, all this leather in here, must be like living in a wallet. Looks like you’re about due for a new desk.” She ran her fingertips over the sleek mahogany surface only slightly distressed by one hundred years of service.

The four paintings arranged on the walls were nineteenth century landscapes by American artists. “But I like the pictures.” She stepped up closer and extended a finger as though to touch a painting. Martin cleared his throat noticeably. She looked back at him and then over to the corner. “Hey, I could live on that leather couch.”
She walked leisurely around his office, running her finger across a row of law books. “You’re an important person, aren’t you? I’ve never known an important person, I mean like, who even knows my name. I guess you don’t need to display awards and certificates on your walls like the offices in TV shows because you already understand how important you are and don’t give a shit whether other people know it or not—that’s cool.”

He shrugged. “Everyone’s important in one way or another.”

“You’re so full of it, aren’t you?” She turned around and faced him, resting her hands on the back of a chair. “I need your advice.” She bit the corner of her lip. He didn’t say anything—speculating about her next move.

“I’m thinking about getting married.”

“Oh, that’s a surprise, Holly, you hadn’t mentioned that before.” He was still surprised about her showing up at his office. Even though he didn’t know her and didn’t want to get involved, he had to admit it was sensible of her to be asking for advice from an adult—even though he was the wrong adult. He was less annoyed when he thought about the interruption that way. He couldn’t just dismiss her with a few platitudes and be done with her. Much too young, could be the biggest mistake of her life—all that. He’d give her a moment.

He moved the leather chair up closer to his desk for her. “Go ahead and sit for a minute. I guess you’ve considered what that means. It’ll be tough to save money for anything, let alone for your college education.” He sat in his desk chair. “What will your folks say about that?”

“Mom will go, ‘That’s nice dear. How’s school?’ Daddy will nod and go, ‘Ask your mother.’ Once, when I was twelve, I told daddy that mom said I could drive the car, and he tossed me the keys without looking up. So, you want to tell me why should I bother with them?”

“Sorry about that, but you
do
live at home? What do they think about your Goth appearance?”

“Mom raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Dad hasn’t noticed. Doesn’t bother me. They’re easy and never ask me to do anything. They were both older when I came along. Both have to work. I don’t know them all that well. I don’t remember if they were more involved when I was younger. I sort of remember looking up at daddy wanting him to pick me up. Maybe he did. Doesn’t matter, I guess.”

He shifted slightly in his chair to break eye contact with her, to get away from the subject of her childhood. “Just the same, since you’re still living at home, please tell your parents about your plans. You say they’re good to you, so they deserve to at least be told.” He looked at her until she nodded. He knew he should just keep quiet, wasn’t any of his business. “So, you’re about to become engaged?”

“No, just married,” she said grinning.

“And all this has something to do with me? Am I supposed to talk you into it, or out of it? You’ve already guessed what I’ll tell you. What’s happening here?”

“Since I have you for my friend, and I can ask you stuff, I thought you probably should know.”

He stiffened noticeably, shook his head ever so slightly and frowned. He didn’t like the sound of those words, and the soft manner in which she was looking at him made him uncomfortable. He needed to bring her assumptions and expectations back to reality immediately, even harshly. “Holly, I appreciate you taking the time to talk with me yesterday in the shop and helping me with my investigation. That was nice of you. And I’m flattered that you want me for a friend, but it was business. Now showing up here is awkward, and apparently the purpose was to tell me you’re getting married.
”

“I thought we had made a connection.” She stood to leave. “Wow, and I was thinking about this all night. Excited this morning that I was going to come here and tell you my plans. Didn’t think anyone else would give a shit whether I got married.”

“Holly—.”

“You were so friendly in the shop. And you looked at me, not my body, when you spoke. And I thought, hey, this is a nice guy. I don’t know, I felt we had some sort of connection. Of course, you just put all that on because it was business. I understand that’s the way people do it.”

“I’m sorry if I said anything that led you to believe it was anything other than business.”

“Oh god no, just one of my screwy ideas—my having a cool lawyer guy for my friend.”

“Holly, sit down for another minute. I care about you the same way I care about any young person who comes to me for advice and is confused.” She wasn’t visibly pouting or even frowning, simply sitting there stoically taking in his words.

“So I’m nothing special and I’m confused. Well, fuck you. Anything else, as long as you’re dissing me? How about friends? Can I at least be a friend? Not a special friend because you’re too busy for that. Someone you merely wave to as you’re speeding by on your way to do something important.”

“Holly, I want to be friendly with you, but a casual friend is all it can be. You understand?”

“Better than nothing.” She smirked. “Okay, Marty, that’s settled. So now, we’re sort of friends. You know, you can be my friend without becoming responsible for me.”

“That’s good news.”
He stole another glance at his desk clock. If he was influencing her for the better, it was worth the time. He’d give her another minute.
“I hope you do some serious thinking before making an important decision such as marriage.”

“Maybe I have thought it through and decided marriage is the way to go. You don’t know everything.”

“Okay, so you’ve carefully thought out the ramifications. I assumed an attractive girl such as you had a boyfriend. Tell me about the lucky guy.”

“Oh, I’m not marrying my boyfriend. I’m marrying this man I met at The Coffee Mug last week.”

He pushed back from his desk. “Excuse me while I have a massive heart attack.”

“I don’t love the man. It’s sort of a business arrangement. And don’t ask me his name, we haven’t got that far. He said he was willing to give me a lot of money. I said like yeah right, that’s nice, what do I have to do? And he goes like, marry him.”

He moved his chair back up to his desk and narrowed his eyes. “What did this man say... exactly?”

“I don’t remember exactly. He’s been coming in a lot lately. Always with his camera junk. Said he was a photographer. He’s going to have a lot of money from somewhere soon. He owns this great condo on the beach, said I could move in before we get married, if I didn’t have anywhere to stay. Said it didn’t make any difference to him whether I did.”

“How old is this guy?”

“Like he’s got to be thirty. Cool, huh? But I don’t have to stay married to him.”

“You don’t? Was that discussed?”

“He mentioned it.”

“So he wants to marry you for just for a while, and he’s going to get a lot of money one day and you’ll get some of it once he gets it. So it’s a really cool deal for you. And, of course, he’s very nice and polite. Get real, Holly. The guy’s a hustler or might be here illegally and needs to marry you to stay in the states. Did he ask you out?”

She shook her head.

He said, “You know this could be all about sex.”

“Marty, at nineteen everything’s about sex.”

“You know what I mean. If you trust me, just stop and give this some time. Perhaps you should try to meet other young people—enlarge your circle of friends.”

“Golly gee, Mr. Bronner. Maybe I could join the other kids at summer camp! We could sing songs and play neat games.”

He had to smile at her. Not dumb, her problem was common sense. He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. It sounded horrible. At any rate, now that he had become aware of the situation, how could he not get more involved? Finally, he said, “At least slow all this down somewhat. Give me his name and I’ll see what I can find out about him.”

“He told me his first name is Bruce. Don’t know his last name.”

“Let’s do this. You met Nigel on the way in here?”

“Yes, he’s cute. I totally killed him.”

“You can trust Nigel. Find out the man’s last name and whatever else you can without raising his suspicions. He may not want his photo taken, so use your smartphone when he’s not looking. Don’t give him any personal information about yourself. Get his address, but absolutely do not give him yours or the phone number at your house. And never be alone with him. Understand? Get it all to Nigel.” He had to play the friend card to be sure she’d listen. “You told me you wanted to be friends. Well, this is your new friend talking, so listen up.”

“Okay, fine. I see what you’re doing and I appreciate it. But don’t screw this up and scare him off. Don’t stalk him or have some tough detective rough him up. I’ll wait and think about it. I do nothing besides working and sleeping, this is different—I want to do this. It’s like hitting the lottery. I want this to happen. I could quit my job and go to college. He’s going to give me like fifty thousand to marry him for a while, he’s not going to touch me and I don’t have to do anything. How cool is that!”

H
olly Davies streamed out of the office after she had finished talking with Nigel. Sandy had noticed all the activity and walked back to Martin’s office. “Who’s the hot Goth girl?”

“She’s the server I questioned at The Coffee Mug. I find I’m learning more about her than I really want to know. Yesterday she was unknown and now suddenly she’s part of my life.”

By then, Nigel was at the doorway. “Isn’t she free-spirited? Give her a headband and a tie-dyed top, and she’d have made a good hippy back in the ‘60’s. What’s the point of being a teenager if you can’t dress weird? I’ll bet she has a bizarre tattoo somewhere on her body.”

“And you’d like to search for it, I suppose,” she said.

“It wouldn’t take long to find it,” Martin offered. “Too much personality and not enough clothing. Not much is left to the imagination.”

“I don’t know,” Nigel said. “Some of us have more imagination than others.”

She said, “Can we bring the heat down in here?” They laughed.

Martin was still scratching his head. “You can add Holly to the list of otherwise normal young women who are about to marry the wrong man for the wrong reason. Put her at the top.”

“And just why are you spending any time at all with her?” she asked. “You know what happens when you give a stray kitten a saucer of milk.”

“Well, first, I’d have been polite to her regardless. Second, she cooperated with whatever she knew about Lester not being at The Coffee Mug. And third, it’s smart of her to ask an adult for advice before making such a decision.” He could tell Sandy was getting annoyed. “I want to check out this man almost ten years her senior, she’s about to get involved with. And I need to borrow some of Nigel’s time to do it.”

“Martin, it’s not really your concern whether a server you met yesterday marries some jerk or not. And certainly not the firm’s concern.”

“Sorry Sandy, I want to make it my concern. It’s like seeing a toddler playing with a knife, how can you not reach out and stop it? Intervention is called for regardless of the consequences for oneself.”

“Is that how you think of getting married, like a toddler playing with a knife?”

“She dropped by to casually tell me she’s willing to accept the promise of some stranger to give her fifty thousand eventually to play house with him now. I’m making it my concern.”

“I feel she’s the stranger. But, the way you explain it, I guess it’s the right thing to do.”

“Okay, let’s just go ahead and check into a few things. Perhaps we can save her some grief. Sandy, I hope you don’t mind too much, Nigel is going to run a preliminary check on the man.”

Nigel said, “I’d be happy to get even more involved, if you’d like. In my spare time, of course.”

“How very kind of you. Nigel, if you have any spare time, please spend it helping me come up with a workable defense for Lester Bardner,” she said.

Nigel continued. “I could demonstrate to her the joyful possibilities of a more satisfying relationship with a man nearer her own age.”

“In other words, you’re willing to try to make out with her,” Martin suggested. “What a guy.”

She said, “Nigel, I understand you’re half joking, but in any case, I don’t want you mixing personal and office affairs. I don’t want her frequenting this office drawn by your considerable magnetism.”

Martin spoke up, “I agree with Sandy. As thankful as we are that you’re willing to sacrifice yourself, I’m asking that, other than doing the research, you please stay completely out of this. Forget about Holly.”

“Who?”

They heard someone come in the front office door and Nigel hurried up the hallway. He found a pleasant looking and physically fit young woman who had taken one step into the reception area and stopped as though waiting for further instructions. From the neat blonde ponytail and the crisp white, Brooks Brothers shirt, Nigel would have guessed she was there to apply for a clerical position.

After the hello, she said, “You left a message on my phone, I thought I’d come on in. I’m Charlene Faulk.”

“I left a message… Charlene Faulk?” Nigel looked down at his notes. “Oh, are you Sparkle’s... sister?”

“How do you know that name? Mr. Bardner promised he wouldn’t use that name in public. Now I understand why you were trying to reach me. It’s about him, isn’t it? So now the entire world knows about me? Has he implicated me in any way?”

It was now clear to Nigel who she was. “Thank you for coming in. Sandy Reid will explain. She’s defending Mr. Bardner and needs to get in touch with you. I’ll tell her you’re here.”

Sandy smiled when he told her. “Oh, the girlfriend of our deceitful client. I can’t wait to get a look at Sparkle. What’s she like, is she red-hot, a slit up the side of her skirt... what?”

“She’s not the hot gold-digger we imagined philandering with Lester Bardner. Not at all. Her appearance is perfectly fine. Seems quite comfortable in looking above-average. I didn’t get the chance to tell you I was unsuccessful tracing a Sparkle Faulk. Now I know why—her real name is Charlene.”

“So, Lester’s reluctant girlfriend. Show her in.”

After introductions, Charlene Faulk declined to sit and remained standing stiffly holding her handbag in front of her with both hands. “The young man called me Sparkle, so I suppose I can’t deny I know Lester. You’re his attorney? And you call me in to talk to me? This is all very scary. Don’t I have some rights or something?”

“You have nothing to fear from us, Miss Faulk. In fact, just the opposite. It’s to our advantage to keep your relationship with Lester hush-hush. I’ll explain everything. Are from around here?”

The young woman sat down stiffly on the edge of the chair. “Mother still lives in Tampa, we’re not close. When daddy accused her of running around, she kicked him out. Here I am blathering away.” She said nervously as if talking to herself. “Anyway, I chose to live with him and loved it. Daddy was an engineer for the power company. I was attending business college over there when he was killed—drunk driver ran a red light.”

“So sorry for your loss.” After a moment, Sandy asked for her address and started making notes. “You work in some local club, don’t you?”

“A health club, the Beach Fitness Center. I’m the office manager.”

“I guess that explains how you keep in shape,” Sandy said. “Well, as you no doubt know, Lester is implicated in a shooting. We’ve been engaged to defend him, and your name came up in our inquiries. Can we talk a little about your relationship? I need to understand it before I go on.”

“Is it okay if I’m mad at him? He swore he wasn’t married, and I found out he was. Meanwhile, he was treating me as if I were some queen. I’m not exactly from the other side of the tracks, but people with lots of money like Lester live in a completely different world—pricey restaurants, hotels and all. I got a glimpse of a dream world where no one worries about jobs or money. They just sit around waiting to indulge in the next whim that happens to strike them. He knew I wasn’t used to being treated special like that.”

“How long did this affair last?”

“Three months.”

“As you might imagine the police have started investigating Lester. They are trying to find a connection with the victim and a reason for Lester to kill him. Have you heard of Ben Coleman?”

“Only from the papers.”

“Did you ever hear Lester mention his name, or take a call or anything like that?”

Charlene shook her head.

“How familiar are you with Miami Beach?”

“Not at all. I was thrilled when Lester took me down there for a few days last month. I did become quite familiar with Room 1804 at the exquisite Fontainebleau. That’s where he wanted to spend the time. I didn’t mind it that much.” Her hand covered her mouth for a second. “I guess that’s more than you need to know, isn’t it?”

“I get the picture.”

“Anyway, he was excited as a kid at Christmas all the way there. Said I’d discover a surprise when we got to our room. I suspected he might propose, heaven forbid. Once we were in the hotel room, he gave me this small wrapped package. Inside was a blue Tiffany Box tied with white ribbon. I was so excited. I’ll accept anything in a Tiffany Box. It was a gorgeous pearl necklace. When I took it out of the box I almost cried. I’ve always wanted genuine pearls. Lester said they were the best. He said he wanted to see me wearing nothing but the necklace. So I put them on, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, and did exactly what plenty of other women would do under the circumstances, I paraded around the room naked except for my new pearls. That’s when he started calling me Sparkle.”

Charlene had been looking down at her hands. Now she raised her head, and said, “Okay, go ahead and judge me. I’m sorry about the married man part, but I’m not going to apologize for enjoying myself.”

All of that sounded honest to Sandy. “Did he meet anyone there? Did he seem to wander off, or stay close to you?”

“Like I said, close as honeymooners.”

“I guess if it took you three months to discover he was married, you weren’t looking very hard. When did you figure out he was married?”

“I was fairly certain the first date.”

“The first date. But you were with him for three months?”

“I was suspicious, but he said he wasn’t married and I wanted to believe him. And then after a couple dates, I didn’t
want
to know. Tried not to believe there was a wife somewhere I was hurting. I lived with the guilt, pretended I didn’t suspect and let him go on being nice to me. I’m ashamed of myself for doing that. I thought I was being so moral at the start by never dating a married man, and then when this happened with Lester, I didn’t want the ride to end. Good looking guy, easy with money and fun, you know. I let him do as he pleased. He was trying to be charming but came off a little quirky and bossy. I didn’t mind. He took charge and took care of everything. I felt safe with him.”

Sandy shrugged. “We’re getting off the subject here.”

“Sorry. When we got back from Miami Beach, I started checking him out, and my original suspicions were confirmed. I couldn’t lie to myself any longer. Next time he called, I confronted him and he confessed. Said he wanted to get a divorce, didn’t want to lose me and all that. It sounded lame, but I guess I bought it. I started to tell him we were through, but couldn’t bring myself to do it even then.”

“Why not?”

“Because I was enjoying it. I was indulging myself, and he was certainly getting what he wanted. At least at the beginning. It all came to an end for me one night when he got all emotional and pledged his undying love, or something scary like that. I knew then I had to break it off. I didn’t really want to push him out of my life—be lonely again. Go back to waiting for some half way normal guy who doesn’t exist. I didn’t love Lester, but we had good times.”

“When did you in fact dump him?”

“A couple of weeks ago.”

“What did you want from him at the end? You threatened to tell his wife.”

“Did he tell you that? Yes, I threatened to tell his wife, if he didn’t stop phoning me.”

“I understand you gave him an ultimatum to divorce his wife soon, or the affair was over.”

“Didn’t happen that way. Just so you believe the right person. For your information, I did not give him any choice, such as get a divorce, or we’re through dating. There was no ultimatum. It was dead wrong, and I finally put an end to it. I didn’t want him, and I wanted nothing from him. When at last I got the nerve, I ditched him clean and haven’t seen him since.”

“You’re the one I believe, Charlene. I might need some information on dates later to establish the time frame, such as when he was in Miami Beach, but other than that I don’t believe any of this has to be explained to anyone.”

“I want a real romance, not a married man,” she said, as if talking to herself. “There aren’t a lot of men out there for me. And I’ll be forty before you know it.”

“You? When?”

“Well, in nine years.” She wasn’t smiling, she was distressed about it. “I want to get married for my dad, he would have liked that.
I guess I come off as pretty needy, or were you thinking more like pitiful?”

“I haven’t heard too much off center,” Sandy said. “In fact, you seem quite normal. I’m glad you’re rid of him. And it was only three months, not as if you wasted ten years of your life on him.”

“Thanks for that.” She sighed deeply. “He’s been unjustly accused, I’m certain. I feel sorry for him sitting in jail. I thought maybe I should go visit him. Just to say goodbye—let him know I’m all right and not to worry about me. We did have some fun, and he spent a ton of money on me.”

“Geez, you don’t owe him anything. Don’t go near him while he’s in there. In fact, I’m ordering you to stay away from him in or out of jail. I can’t afford to have marital infidelity clouding up this case. And you’re facing a couple of issues as it is.”

“No, I’m not. I’m all in the clear. It’s over. He’s history.”

“I wish that were so, Charlene. This will soon turn into a high-profile murder case. The chances of your affair remaining private are somewhere between slim and none. Of course, the police will be very interested in you. They’re looking for a motive for Lester killing that guy. Also, you’re in danger of being tagged his mistress by the media. They’d love to write about an alleged romantic triangle. All of which could be devastating for you and very damaging. Unless the real killer confesses in the next couple of hours, your life has now changed.”