Dead Man's Hand (13 page)

“
So Grant has a private office
in addition to
his house and casino offices?
”

Hartford nodded.

Dale was relieved that he had asked for an unspecified search warrant that would include all
of
Grant
’
s offices. It could have taken a day for more than one.

Dale was thinking about how some of the anonymous caller
’
s information had been correct, but
some
wrong. The rest he could check out himself.

The caller was wrong about the time of death. Grant had already been dead for almost twelve hours when the call had been placed. Was the caller aware of the time of Grant
’
s murder and just trying to confuse the cops? Was the caller attempting to set Calvin Watters up? Was Watters really in the building? He knew who Calvin Watters was and what his involvement meant.

The caller was also wrong about the murder site—the woods, not the office.
Could the caller have been aware of a plot to assassinate Grant, but been too slow to respond
and didn
’
t know the exact details
?
How much did the caller know and what might he by lying about?

“
No chance of a trace or identification, Joe?
”

“
Not a chance. The phone had a good scrambler.
”

“
Why would a Samaritan use a scrambler?
”

“
There are all sorts of whack jobs out there. Maybe that
’
s his usual phone. The techs are busy analyzing the recording for background noises, but that
’
s a long shot.
”

“
Thanks, Joe. Give me a full written report and leave it on my desk.
”

“
Sure thing.
”

He
headed back to the front desk
,
but the papers still weren
’
t there. Henry shook his head so Dale turned and headed across the lobby to the sergeant
’
s office.

“
What is it, Dayton?
”
The sergeant
kept his eyes on his
paperwork.

“
I want to put a surveillance team on Linda Grant.
”

“
I suppose you want phone taps too?
”
He didn
’
t wait for Dale to respond.
“
Do it. I
’
ll get the warrant for it.
”

Dale nodded and then asked for another favor. After a brief moment to think it over, the sergeant replied.

“
Okay, you got it. But be careful. Linda Grant is a pretty powerful person herself in this community.
”

Dale would track Linda with a GPS mounted secretly on
the rear bumper of
her car. He rushed back to his desk to get her phone records pulled and the lines tapped.

The search warrants had arrived when he made it back to the front desk. Without further discussion, he hurried outside. When he jump
ed into the car, Jimmy gave him
a doubtful grin.

“
Back in a minute, huh?
”

Dale was
looking forward to questioning Linda
Grant for different reasons than his partner who, a married-man of twenty-five years with a sex-drive of a teenager, probably
took a little
adolescent
delight in talking to someone everyone knew was a knockout.

A
forest of trees
hid the Grant house
and
a
wrought
-
iron gate
secured it
. Jimmy said
their names
in
to the speakerphone
and
as the gate swung open,
a patrol car followed
the detectives
’
cruiser
ins
ide.
A gardener, tending a flowerbed, glanced up as they passed by. The front lawn resembled a putting green.

The house
was
a castle—a
six-thousand
-square-foot Tudor-style mansion
with
five bedrooms, marble mantels, antique moldings
and
a gym.

The house had been on an edition of
Las Vegas Celebrity Mansions
as one of the top
-
ten visited houses in the
c
ity.

Dale was expecting a maid but
Linda Grant
opened the door. She
lived up to her pictures—a beautiful woman with
a super-
model
body
, at least twenty-five
years younger than her late husband. She wore a formfitting, high
-
waistline
dress in a lavender
floral print
and
black ankle
-
wraparound heel
s. She had a simple tassel
necklace
. H
er brown hair cascaded over her shoulders. She threw the detectives an amiable smile.

“
Good morning, Detectives.
”

“
Good morning, Mrs. Grant.
”

“
Ma
’
am.
”
Jimmy nodded.

As they stepped inside
, Dale thought her eyes were dark and unreadable
. She seemed much more composed
for someone who was facing a surprise police visit.

“
How can I help you, officers?
”

“
I
’
m
D
etective Dayton
.
T
his is my partner,
D
etective Mason.
”
They both showed their badges.
“
We have some news about your husband.
”

“
Doug didn
’
t come home last night. He often spends the night at the casino.
”

“
We know, ma
’
am. That
’
s why we
’
re here.
”

Now she
seemed
a little worried.
“
Please come in.
”

They stepped into a grand oak
-
paneled entrance hall. She led them past a front room filled with oil paintings and Persian carpets
and
into a cozy back room
,
where the
warm sun shone
through walls of windows. They all sat down around a glass coffee
table.

“
Mrs. Grant, your husband
’
s body was discovered
this morning in the woods just off highway 515. He
’
d been
murdered.
”

Linda brought her hand to her mouth
and
her body started to tremble.

Jimmy pulled a handkerchief from his coat
.
“
H
ere.
”

Sh
e received the offer
and dabbed her eyes and sculpted nose.

Dale continued.
“
He was killed quickly and didn
’
t suffer.
”

“
He didn
’
t come home last night,
”
she admitted between sniffles.
“
I just assumed that he
’
d slept at the office.
”
She wept louder.

“
Get her a drink, Jimmy.
”

Jimmy
headed to
ward
a wet bar in the corner of the room.
Dale watched Linda
. She kept her eyes on her lap
and
twisted a gaudy-sized diamond on her ring finger.

After pouring three fingers of expensive scotch, Jimmy returned with
the glass. Linda sipped it
.

Dale went on.
“
Mrs. Grant,
e
veryone with your husband
’
s prominence has enemies. Can you think of who might
have
want
ed
to harm him?
”

She shook her head
.

“
Please, Mrs. Grant. Anything you can tell us would help.
”

“
You
’
re right, we all have enemies, but I can
’
t think
of anyone
who would
have
kill
ed
him!
”
Linda said shaking her head.
“
He was the kindest, gentlest man I have ever known. Just about everyone he knew loved him.
”

“
What would he be doing in the woods?
”

“
I don
’
t know. Doug hadn
’
t mentioned any new real estate plans. He often looked at property to expand, but he hadn
’
t said.
”

“
I know this is a tough question, Mrs. Grant, but one I have to get out of the way. Where were you last night between the hours of ten and twelve?
”

Linda held the tissue to her nose and stared at the detective.
“
Well, I was home, where I always am.
”
He
r hand dropped
and
her eyes were fixed with rage.
“
Wait a minute,
D
etective.
”
She jumped
to her feet and raised
her voice.
“
Are you insinuating that I had something to do with my husband
’
s murder? Do
you
think that I could do that?
”

Jimmy stood up and spoke in a
calm
voice
.
“
Easy, Mrs. Grant. We
’
re not saying that. Please, sit down
. We have to ask these questions
.
”

Linda sat back down and
Dale
studied her. A
t least part of what he saw was an act.
He was sure of it.

“
Was anyone here with you
, Mrs. Grant
?
”

“
Just the servants
doing their regular prep for
the following day
.
We
’
re preparing a wonderful birthday party for my stepson, Shawn, next week, so my helpers have been working overtime and did last night, not f
inishing until after midnight.
I was supervising, so all three can confirm that I was here during those hours. They
sleep in the other wing.
”
She pointed to the far side of the house.

That would be easy enough to verify.

“
Dale, can I speak with you in the other room?
”
Jimmy asked.

Dale nodded.
“
Excuse us, Mrs. Grant.
”

When Linda was out of earshot, Jimmy whispered
,
“
Dale, this isn
’
t an interrogation. We
’
re just here to make next of kin notification, not start a war. If we piss her off, she has the connections to make our lives miserable.
”

“
I know
,
Jimmy, but we don
’
t get a second chance to watch her first reaction or hear her side. You know that. So let
’
s see what we can see—don
’
t be
a
wimp.
”