NAILED (11 page)

She gave me a sad shrug. “Nope. Never. My sister had a full-time job and then she was with Moshi. Plus, she was married and Vic liked dinner on the table every evening at a certain time, so I didn’t always see her a lot, but we talked on the phone and emailed. But still. I should have seen it, right? We were close and we told each other a lot, but knowing my sister, she probably felt ashamed. She was a really good person.” Maddi’s words sounded almost like a plea.

“Hey, no judgment on my part. No one knows what goes on behind closed doors, like my grandmother always tells me. I’m not here to disparage your sister’s name. The truth is, I started this investigation to clear my own sister’s name, to find out who did Victor Sanjari in, but now I feel like I owe Jenna the truth too, to find out what really happened to her.” Plus there was that pesky little problem with the police now turning their sights on my brother-in-law.

“Thanks.” Maddi nodded.

I flicked through the pages again. There was no mention of a name in the little leather book other than
Mr. Big
, which Maddi explained was a reference to the TV show,
Sex and the City
. Jenna had been a fan and I was well acquainted with the show myself. So, was
Mr. Big
so named because he was tall? Or did it refer to another attribute the man might have? If that were the case, I would imagine I might have a very difficult time finding him. A tall man would be easier, and I already had one in mind.

Maddi and I finished our tea and the popcorn in no time and then returned to the kitchen. I left her then, promising to keep her up to date with whatever I found out, which I sincerely hoped would not lead back to her. I could understand her wanting Victor dead, because it looked more and more to me like the man did indeed push his wife off a cliff in Maine, but for the sake of Moshi and Maddi’s three little girls, I really, really wanted Victor Sanjari’s killer to be someone else—as long as that someone else was not my brother-in-law.

Despite my desire not to drive to Fairfield, I found myself on the turnpike headed in that direction. Traffic was heavy, but it would only take about thirty-five minutes to get to the offices of
Connecticut Custom Homes
.

When I arrived, I was surprised to not find Suzette at the front desk, but then I remembered that she had an appointment at my agency this afternoon for testing. There was a bell on the counter with a note saying to ring for assistance. I pressed the button on top of the little bell, and a few seconds later a young woman walked into the lobby.

“Good afternoon. May I help you?”

“Yes, I was hoping to speak with Mr. Hachmeister if he’s available,” I said. “I spoke with him yesterday on a private matter and I have a couple more questions.”

“What’s your name? I’ll see if he has any time.”

I told her my name and she took off in the direction of Gary Hachmeister’s office. After a couple of minutes she returned and told me I could go on in.

Mr. Hachmeister was dressed much as he had been yesterday. Again, he stood up when I entered the room, gave my size thirty-four C breasts a once over, and sat down. I gave him a smirk and the man blushed slightly. I wondered if my husband acted like this when I wasn’t around. I like to think that he doesn’t. And the truth is, when we first met I never caught him checking me out in a dirty-old-man way, so maybe all guys were not the same.

“So what can I do for you today, Ms. Harris? I haven’t learned anything new that might help you since we spoke yesterday.”

“Well, as it turns out, I’ve learned a few things since we last spoke.”

“Such as?”

“Such as the fact that you’ve been using undocumented workers and the quality of what they’re doing for you isn’t up to your usual standards.”

Gary Hachmeister jumped out of his chair and leaned hard on the desk, glaring at me across it. “Where the hell did you hear that! Who have you been talking to? Suzette, get in here,” he yelled out to the reception area.

“I don’t think she’s here today. She wasn’t out there when I arrived.”

“Oh, right. Dentist appointment. So who told you all this nonsense?”

“I don’t know. I heard it somewhere. It seems to be common knowledge that you’re using undocumented Eastern European workers.”

“Holy shit,” Gary said as he sat back down. “That guy was ruining me. This industry is rife with bad press, but I’ve managed to keep myself respectable by doing quality work with good craftsmen. And then Vic comes up with this scheme.”

“What scheme?”

Gary waved his arms around. “Using these guys. I gave them a job. Wait a minute. Why am I telling you this stuff? You’re nobody.”

“True. But if you don’t talk to me, I might be inclined to call immigration or the IRS,” I said before I could stop myself. It wouldn’t do me any good to threaten a potential murderer, but at least there were other people about. I didn’t think Gary would try anything right here in his office, but still, I decided to soften my approach. “Look, Gary, all I want to do is help my family. And Maddi, if I can.”

“Maddi? You mean Jenna’s sister? What does she have to do with this?”

“We’ll get to that in a minute,” I said. “First, tell me why you felt compelled to hire illegal workers. What did you get out of it?”

Gary ran his hands over his bald head and sighed, and then he looked at me and smiled. “I do like your style.” His eyes were back to my C cups.

“Gary! Eyes up here.”

“Ah, yeah, right. So where was I? Oh, yeah. In exchange for doing what Vic asked, he would sign off on all my jobs. Don’t get me wrong, he would have anyway because we all take pride in our work here, but, you know, he just made it easy, we got appointments right away, we didn’t have to wait for weeks for an inspector to show up.”

“But he wasn’t signing off on things anymore, was he? Didn’t he just reject a plumbing job?”

Gary’s face took on a red glow that slowly rose up to the top of his hairless head. He pounded his fist on the desk and look at me all crazy eyed. “Who’s telling you this stuff? I’ll fire them. Are you talking to my crew? I didn’t mind answering a few of your questions, but you’re treading on thin ice. And keep off of my job sites!”

I waited for him to calm down. “How long has this arrangement with Victor been going on?”

“I don’t know. Six months, maybe eight.”

I thought about this.
Connecticut Custom Homes
had been in business for some time. Presumably inspections had been taking place all along, things had been working beautifully. So why would Gary Hachmeister need to hire illegal workers to keep things at the status quo? Something else must have been a motivator, and why had Victor not kept to his end of the bargain? I didn’t think I would find it out by asking Gary, so instead I changed tracks.

“Tell me about your affair with Jenna.”

Gary shook his head quickly like a bobble head and put his hands up, palms facing me. “What! Where are you hearing this crap? I could probably sue you if you keep this up.”

“Do you deny that you were in love with her?”

“Who told you I was in love with her? Jenna was a lovely woman. Better than Vic deserved, that’s for sure. She was kind and sweet, and beautiful.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“No, it’s just a, well, I liked Jenna. A lot. But we weren’t having an affair. The truth is she had no idea how I felt. Jenna Sanjari didn’t even know I was alive. I’d see her at events when she was with Vic, and I could never understand what she saw in him. Would I have liked to have something more with her? Sure, but it didn’t happen. Only in my dreams.”

He said this last bit softly. It was either very sincere and tender, or just perverted, in which case I really didn’t want to hear about his secret desires for a friend’s wife.

“It was such a tragedy when she died. And leaving her little girl without a mother. Kids need their mothers.”

“Did you ever think her death was anything more than an accident?”

Gary looked at me, pale green eyes blazing. “What? Now you think I killed
her
? You need to leave and don’t come back.” He pointed to the door.

“Calm down. All I meant was did it ever cross your mind that maybe your friend killed his wife?”

“Whoa!” Gary leaned back in his chair so far I thought he might tip over and crack his bald head on the credenza behind him. He let the chair come forward with a snap and ran a hand over the stubble on his chin. “Oh, geez, is that what happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“So maybe that’s why Vic was killed?”

“Yes, that could certainly be a possibility,” I said. “Even if he didn’t kill his wife, maybe someone just thought he did.”

“Is that where Maddi comes in?”

I nodded. “As long as I’m trying to help my family, I thought I would look into her sister’s death for her. She always felt that Victor killed Jenna.” I leaned forward in my chair and folded my arms on the desk right across from Gary. “Tell me your best guess on who might have killed Victor, and do you think your friend was capable of killing his wife?”

“I don’t like how this conversation is going. You’re talking about a boyhood friend of mine. It’s bad enough thinking someone killed him, but now…” Gary rocked back and forth in the chair. “I don’t want to think that Victor could have killed Jenna, but the truth is he didn’t treat her right. Never did. Controlled her. It was like she was more his personal property than someone he loved. I have no idea who could have killed Victor, and I’m staying out of it because chances are he was mixed up with some bad people. But if it turns out that he killed Jenna, well, if that’s the case, then he deserved what he got. I just wish whoever did it could have picked another place to kill him than one of my sites. A murder associated with
Connecticut Custom Homes
is not good for business.”

Whether Gary Hachmeister realized it or not, a murder on one of his sites was the least of his problems. Once the police discovered the Eastern Europeans working on his crews, Gary was going to have a lot more to worry about.

But that wasn’t my concern. My concern was, what was Victor Sanjari holding over his friend to get him to hire the illegal workers, and was it bad enough to get Victor killed?

I was close to Westport and tempted to drive over to Shirley’s house, but I wasn’t sure whether or not she was even home. I guess I could have called, but I needed to get back to Indian Cove. I’d send her an email with some questions about Gary Hachmeister before I got ready for my evening out with Mary-Beth and Jeff. Mary-Beth was my best friend from high school. I hadn’t seen her for months and it would be good to catch up and leave murder behind.

Once I got home, I changed my clothes, touched up my makeup, and fussed with my hair. No amount of playing around with it was going to get me Maddi Wickersham’s look. Ditto for the smoky eye I was trying to perfect, but I looked nice. My opinion was verified a few minutes later when John walked in and told me I looked pretty. Maybe he meant it or maybe he was just tired of sleeping in the guest room. Either way, I’d take the compliment.

We drove to Stamford, picked up Mary-Beth and Jeff, and then headed to Greenwich to try out a new restaurant called
España
. The evening was warm and humid, but we opted to sit outside on a covered patio looking over the water and the bobbing boats. Coolers had been discreetly placed around the patio making it pleasant for outdoor dining.

We looked through the extensive menu, finally deciding on mixed Spanish olives and avocados stuffed with goat cheese to start, and paella for four with shrimp, mussels, clams and scallops for the main course.

John and Jeff had their eyes on some of the boats, and finally got up and walked down the pier for a closer look, leaving Mary-Beth and me to catch up.

“I can’t believe how long it’s been since we’ve seen you guys,” Mary-Beth said. Mary-Beth had dark hair she wore in an updated Dorothy Hamill style. She always wore gold ball earrings, and tonight was no exception. “I’m sorry we missed meeting your friends from Belgium, but we had those plans to go away with Jeff’s parents and we just couldn’t get out of it. That was nice of you to arrange a murder while they were here. How’s your new investigation going?”

I looked over toward the water to make sure John was still out of earshot. I told Mary-Beth how John had been relegated to the guest room.

My friend has a great laugh and she tilted her head back and had a good one, getting a few looks from some of the other patrons.

“It looks like Sam is in the clear, but I think John’s seriously looking at Michael.” I continued.

“What’s going on with those two?” Mary-Beth asked.

I told her how Shirley had followed Michael and saw him with another woman.

“Have you told Sam?”

“No. I don’t want to say anything until I know more. No need to worry her if it was nothing more than an innocent meeting with a friend. Michael knows a lot of people through his practice, so the woman could have been anyone, and Shirley got the feeling that it was casual, not romantic.”

Our tapas arrived and Mary-Beth picked up an olive while gazing out at the water. “What made John think Sam had something to do with it in the first place?” she asked.

I reached for a black olive and shrugged. “I don’t know. He said there was a witness to Sam and Victor arguing.”

“So? If the guy was as big a creep as you say, why would anyone give notice to him being told off? I bet a lot of women dropping off their kids probably felt the same way.”

I sat back in my chair and looked a Mary-Beth intently. “What are you getting at?”

“Obviously the person, the
witness
, is someone at the school. Presumably Sam knows all these people well. If I saw you stab someone right in front of me, I’m keeping my mouth shut. You’re my best friend.”

“Gee, thanks, Mary-Beth,” I gushed. “I’m touched that you would perjure yourself and go to jail for me.”