Person of Interest (A Celeste Eagan Mystery) (13 page)

BOOK: Person of Interest (A Celeste Eagan Mystery)
7.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

It also failed to shed a single light on who
would
kill him—or Kelsey. If Kelsey had become one of his targets, it gave her motive, but then who murdered her? Given that Muldoon questioned me about DVDs, and Kelsey’s apartment turned up DVDs, they were the key—but who else would be looking for the DVDs?

It was so damn confusing.

I tried to put myself in Kelsey’s shoes. A little shudder ran down my spine. If Chad had blackmailed me, I didn’t think I could kill him. That’s not to say I wouldn’t want to. At the same time, I couldn’t imagine him threatening me in any way that would let him run roughshod over me. However, he’d done just that to other staff members apparently.

I didn’t think Kelsey killed Chad, though. If Muldoon was questioning me, he must not think so either. But how did it play into everything? If Chad had been blackmailing her, it would explain why she’d broken into the office—and then lied about it—to recover the DVDs once he was dead. Her taking advantage of the situation. That I could see.

It didn’t explain
her
death.

Coz called with an update. After dropping me off at home, he’d headed back to the police station, where he’d managed to get my detail removed, threatening a lawsuit against the department for harassment. He wanted to come over and go over a couple more items but he had another appointment and would call later. He warned me to stay out of trouble while the police worked through what they knew.

I wasn’t even sure I could stay out of trouble, because I didn’t know which direction it was coming from. I certainly didn’t know the penalty for disobeying my attorney, but I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing though.

I got online and looked up Julia Jones’s new phone number. I’d go right to someone who knew the man well.

Julia answered on the third ring. “Yes?”

“Julia, it’s Celeste Eagan,”

She sighed. “What do you want?”

No point in playing any silly little guessing games. I decided to lay the cards on the table. “I don’t know what you’ve heard. But I’ve been questioned about Chad’s death.”

“Huh.” She didn’t sound surprised.

I planted my toes on the floor and swiveled in my chair, back and forth. “I honestly don’t know why. I’ve barely spoken to the man the last few months.”

“And you expect me to believe you?” I could all but hear her frosty frown.

“I don’t expect you to believe anything. I’m just trying to figure out why people seem to think something more was going on. Did Chad tell you there was something between us?”

“He didn’t have to tell me anything. I saw it with my own eyes.”

I stopped swiveling. “What are you talking about?”

There was silence on the end of the phone. I thought maybe she’d hung up, but then I could hear her breathing. Finally she said, “Chad’s little trophy videos.”

Again with the DVDs. “He showed them to you?”

“No.” For the first time, she sounded shocked rather than just plain angry. “I found them. On his computer.”

“Julia, I don’t know what you saw, but Chad and I never—”

“Maybe not yet, but you would have.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say to that. It didn’t really matter. She plowed right on.

“You’re all the same. Act all innocent and shy but then you perform such lewd acts on video. It’s disgusting.”

“Who ‘all’ are you talking about?” I snagged my pen and held it over the pad next to me. Julia named off several teachers and staff, all of whom—with the exception of Kelsey—were no longer on staff at Peytonville Prep. A couple surprised me. They’d left abruptly and we never knew why. It explained a lot.

“I guess I should thank you though.”

I tapped my pen on the pad as I thought over the timeframe for all the teachers’ resignations. “For?”

“If I hadn’t found the videos I’d never have been able to divorce him. Well, I could have, but it would have cost me half of my family estate. No prenup. With the video evidence my lawyer proved he’d violated the marriage vows. I didn’t have to pay him one red cent.” With that she hung up.

Now I knew why Julia finally divorced Chad, and what had taken her so long to do so.

I glanced over the list. It was disgusting to think he’d used his position to force women to do anything, much less have sex with him. I knew very little about him. Only what he showed me at school.

The phone rang while I was still holding it, and I nearly jumped out of my chair. Annabelle’s cheery voice met my hello.

“I just wanted to thank you. Dinner was a complete success.”

“That’s great.” I smiled. I think it was the first time so far that day. “When’s the next date?”

Annabelle giggled. “Later in the week. Hey, he has a friend. Would you like to go on a double date?”

“Oh no, no, thanks. I will not be good company.” I gave her a brief rundown of my morning.

“Do you have a good lawyer?” she asked, all mirth gone from her voice.

“Absolutely.” I was doodling on the corner of the notepad. “I just wish I had more answers. I don’t know how to combat the questions.”

“Like what?”

“Like how a seemingly mild-mannered principal could be so depraved.”

“Google.”

I frowned. “Pardon?”

“Google him. You would not believe what you can find out online nowadays. Most newspapers are archived and searchable.” She went on to give me a few tips when searching, key words to type in—her former job paying off. “If you get stuck, call me and I can come over and help you.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to bog you down in this any more than you already are.” We spoke for a minute or two more, then said our goodbyes.

I grabbed a cup of decaf—I was already a little jittery, didn’t need any help—settled at my desk and opened the laptop. I brought up Google and typed in Chad’s name. I didn’t expect it to be easy, but I sure as hell wasn’t expecting fourteen million hits for Chad Jones. Damn. I put in our hometown and it narrowed it down to a little over a hundred thousand. Who knew?

After an hour of using Annabelle’s tips, going through page after page and clicking on links here and there that looked related to the man, I’d almost given up. Then I saw a link for a Houston newspaper article that was twenty-one years old. I clicked into the link and looked over the first little bit, but to view the entire article, the paper wanted me to pay a nominal fee.

I drummed my fingers on the desktop. I wasn’t even one-little-percent sure it was the Chad Jones I knew, though it listed a college that
was
his alma mater.

“Might as well.” I popped in my credit card number, and the rest of the article opened up.

To say I was surprised was an understatement. The article itself was a report of a female college professor, Eileen Patts, found hanged in her apartment. Her young son had found her body and reported it to the police. The original speculation was homicide but it was later determined she’d hanged herself.

My palms itched as I kept reading.

It was believed she’d committed suicide after being videotaped having sex with three of her college students: sophomores Joseph Carpenter, Beau Henderson and last but not least junior Chad Jones. Professor Patts was so disgraced she couldn’t take the scrutiny and subsequent suspension from the college and ended her own life.

Initially, it looked like she’d been murdered, and all three men had been questioned at length, but a suicide note had been found under the desk in her office.

I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. Chad was a piece of work. It was scary to think you could work alongside someone for so many years and never know what lurked behind their smiles.

Anger spiked when I thought of the times Paige lingered after school and waited for me or Colin in the teachers’ lounge. With Chad. I’d like to think I couldn’t kill someone, but you mess with my child and all bets were off. If I only learned one thing from my mom, it was definitely how to protect my child.

It didn’t exactly explain what was going on now. The professor had died well over twenty years ago. By her own hand.

A little voice niggled the back of my head.
Just like Chad was staged to look.

“That can’t be a coincidence.” I sat up straighter and printed off the article. Then I unlocked my cell phone, let it go into standby then unlocked it again. Before I could change my mind, I dialed a number.

After a quick hello, I dispensed with any chitchat. “It’s Celeste, I need to see you. Can you come over?”

Chapter Twelve

On the second ringing of the bell, I ran down the hall to the front door. “Sorry, sorry,” I said when it swung open. “I got hung up in my closet literally.” I lifted the ruined sweater off my waist. A gaping hole formed where I’d caught it on a hanger that had come off the rack and stuck between several shirts. “I appreciate you not busting the door down.”

Muldoon’s cheeks tinted red for a moment. He didn’t speak or move as he waited on the porch.

I opened the door wider. “Are you coming in?”

He stared at me for a long moment, then nodded and followed me into the house. I walked us back to my office and motioned him to a chair. “Sit.”

He stood in the doorway in his cop pose; hands on hips with ready access to the gun or the handcuffs that poked out from the edge of his jacket.

“Please.”

Muldoon took a deep breath, relented and sat.

“What’s with the attitude?”

“You’re going to talk to me without your lawyer?”

“Can you honestly tell me you’d go into a police interview without a lawyer present?” I turned and looked down at him. I rather liked the height advantage with him in the chair. Before he could answer my question, though, I said, “Never mind. Look what I found.” I handed him the article and sat in the other chair. I scooted it until we were knee to knee.

“Where’d you get this?” He kept his eyes trained on the paper.

“Google.”

He read through the article.

“More specifically the
Houston Monitor
. Chad went to school in Houston.” I pointed to the name of the college. “He had mega school pride. Like their bookstore vomited all over his office.”

“I remember.”

I tilted my head and looked at him. “How did you not already have this info?”

He lowered his hands to his lap, still gripping the printed sheets. “What makes you think we didn’t?”

I fought back a smug smile. “For one, the surprised-as-hell look on your face.”

“There was no crime committed by anyone other than the professor. Jones wasn’t charged with anything involving this so he wouldn’t be in the system related to it. We checked him out for records of any kind. There weren’t any. Didn’t even have a parking ticket. The man was squeaky clean.”

“On the surface.” I took a deep breath. I looked him in the eye. “I didn’t know what he was up to.”

Muldoon squirmed. “I will ask again, shouldn’t you wait for your lawyer?”

I shook my head. “I’m telling you. Shaw Muldoon. Not Detective Muldoon.” I didn’t know why the distinction made a difference, but I wanted to make him believe me. “I never once encouraged Chad to flirt with me. I never got the feeling it was anything other than some guy being a jerk and hitting on anything with a pulse. All the teachers knew he was like that—the flirting—but I don’t remember anything that would have made me think he was capable of blackmailing women for sex.”

I leaned back in my chair. “I can’t imagine anything he could have said or done that would put me in that same position. I guarantee you, he wouldn’t have been able to do that to me.”

“Even if he used something you cherished to make you?”

“There was only one thing I would risk anything for...” My heart beat heavily. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“He had pictures of Paige.”

“What kind of pictures?” I asked slowly through gritted teeth.

Muldoon leaned forward, shaking his head as he grabbed my hand. “Nothing like that. I didn’t mean to imply anything. They were just regular pictures from school. He also had a file on her. When did she jump up two grades?”

I frowned. “About two years ago.”

Muldoon nodded. “It looks like he tampered with some tests to make it look like she’d cheated.”

My grip tightened on his. “What?”

“With him gone, we don’t really have proof one way or the other, but I’d bet money he was going to use that against you. To make you...” He trailed off and lowered his gaze.

“My baby.” It came out on a whisper because my throat had tightened.

Muldoon gathered me up. How many times had I had to lean on him in the past week? Hell, it hadn’t even been a whole week. But in that short time, I trusted him.

I pulled back and looked at him. His gaze froze me in my spot. He eyed my mouth for a long moment, then let go of me. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah.” I blinked and tried to shake off whatever weird heat that had zipped through me. The man was sex on a stick and turned me on with a simple touch—which I totally didn’t need at the moment, considering I kept finding more and more to make me look guilty of killing Chad. If I didn’t know me better,
I’d
think I’d killed him. The last thing in the world I needed to do was tear up the sheets with the überhot detective.

“Can I?”

I choked. “Can you what?” Toast some marshmallows on the flames you’ve ignited? Turn up the heat to a five-alarm blaze? Hell yeah.

He waved the printed pages at me. “Can I keep these?”

How could he keep doing that to me? My overinflated ego and sex drive shriveled up as my shoulders slumped on a sigh.

“If you don’t want me to—”

“No, no that’s fine. Take them.” I waved at him. It had been so long since I’d gone out with the opposite sex I was latching onto the first guy to come within proximity. And dating a man—even if we reached way out on a limb and assumed he’d even consider me dating material—who wanted to lock you up for one crime or another was probably not the best relationship to jump into. Maybe I needed to call Annabelle back and go out with her friend’s friend. Or I could just give in and let Levi sign me up for that dating service he’d been threatening me with.

Muldoon folded the sheets and tucked them into a pocket inside his sports coat. He looked at me for a long moment, then asked, “How have we not met before?”

“Up ’til now?” I waved my hand at him as I worked out a dating bio in my mind. “I have pretty much been a law-abiding citizen. I wouldn’t have been on your radar.” I could add that to the bio, my law abidingness up to last week. I’d have to broaden my scope to the outlying areas as well as home. Peytonville was fairly small compared to Fort Worth or Dallas. Actually, home might be too close for comfort as my notoriety had made the papers a few too many times over the course of the Muldoon’s investigation.

I glanced up at him. Did you need references for online dating? He didn’t strike me as someone who would give me a glowing recommendation so I wouldn’t broach the subject. Who could I get, though? I was mentally ticking off acquaintances.

Muldoon looked down at his feet. “Have you eaten?”

I was in full online-dating mode. Thinking of which picture I’d need to post and what my profile could reveal that wasn’t too desperate, and yet not too aloof. I was vaguely cognizant of Muldoon asking me a question. “Eaten what?” We locked gazes for a moment, then Muldoon shifted his chair away from me, putting a little space between us.

“Dinner? The meal that is usually partaken in the evening.” The corner of his mouth kicked up.

“Naw.” I sighed and swiveled in my chair. “It’s too depressing to make anything without Paige being here. Just reminds me how lonely the house is.” I tapped my finger to my chin as I wondered if I should mention on the profile whether I have kids. Was that a deal breaker?

“Would you like to eat something?”

I shook myself. “What? Get something to eat as in go out? Together? You and I?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

I straightened in my chair and frowned at him. “Is this a new interrogation technique? Wining and dining a suspect? If you get me relaxed I might reveal something you have otherwise yet to get from me. Yeah, I think I’ll pass.” I didn’t mean to sound so snippy—actually, I probably did. The man could go from interrogation to dinner for two without batting an eye. I didn’t get it. And the fact that he didn’t even try to deny anything only validated my case.

I stood. “It’s getting late. I have school in the morning.”

Muldoon rose and headed for the front door without so much as looking back. What right did
he
have to get pissy?

“You’re welcome, by the way,” I said as the front door slid shut. “Whatever.”

I walked back to my office, sat back at my computer and dug around on the internet a little more to see what other info I could glean on Chad and the professor. I put in all the names involved in the college case and got very little information. Beau Henderson had a successful business in Dallas, but other than that, all the links associated with his name were typical. Joseph Carpenter died a few years back and had very little info out there.

I tried looking up Professor Patts but the case was so old that the links that popped up were newspaper archives.

Hmm, newspaper.

I hurried to the kitchen and looked in my junk drawer. I’d shoved Kellen Schaeffer’s card between Paige’s eye doctor reminders and the Chinese restaurant menus.

The man answered on the first ring. “I just had a feeling I’d be hearing from you.”

“Mr. Schaeffer—”

“Kellen please.” His voice purred on the other end of the line. It was probably perfected to get unwilling interviewees to open up. Damn if it didn’t make me want to talk.

“Kellen.” I cleared my throat. “Can we meet?”

“Absolutely. When and where?”

“Are you busy now?” I did need to eat. “We could meet up at Barney’s.” Since I was still without wheels, I mentioned a local hamburger joint about a mile from my house.

“Half an hour good?” he asked.

“See you there.”

* * *

I’d finished half my bacon cheeseburger before Kellen sauntered in and joined me. He was wearing a faded pair of jeans and a striped button-down shirt untucked with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked like a college student rather than a reporter—though really until he’d knocked on my door, I’d never really thought of what a reporter might look like.

“Am I late?” He motioned to the plate in front of me.

“No. I was starving.” Despite what I’d told Muldoon about eating alone, the wonderful aroma from Barney’s was too much to withstand once I’d been seated. “Sorry.”

He waved away the comment and took up the seat across the table. “What would you like to get off your chest?”

I took a long drink of water and set the glass down with a loud clank. “What makes you think I have something to get off my chest?”

One sandy-colored eyebrow rose. “Why else would you be calling me?”

“Maybe I’d just wanted some company for dinner.”

Kellen took several fries from my plate, dipped them in the ketchup and shoved it all in his mouth. He chewed slowly then smiled. A boyish dimple winked from just below his cheekbone. “If that’s the case then even better.”

The waitress came over and took his order before I could respond—thankfully. I was already regretting the call. This man could charm the chocolate coating from an M&M and I was feeling particularly vulnerable. But I only had means to dig so far into things. And while I knew Muldoon would check into everything I would bet my last drink of coffee he wouldn’t share anything he found with me.

“While my boyishly handsome looks and charming character do win me many dates—” his smile broadened “—I don’t think that’s why you called.” He leaned back in his chair. “Care to clue me in before my burger gets here?”

“Off the record?” I didn’t know if that really worked. I’d seen it in many movies over the years, and while I did want to speak with him and get some info, I didn’t want to be quoted in any way that would foster more suspicion.

The smile that tilted his full sexy lips was more amused than flirty now. “Sure.”

I laid out all the info I’d gotten off the internet. I gave him the extra copies I’d made and he leaned closer and closer with each word. When I finally finished, he glanced over the printed sheets and shuffled through them. The waitress brought his food and set it in front of him.

I asked her to bring me a chocolate shake. My nerves were too shot to forgo a craving while I waited for Kellen to answer me. She brought it back to the table with two straws—as if. I slid one straw into the tall chilled glass and shoved the other under the edge of my plate. “Well? Is that all crazy or what?”

He eyed me for a moment, then took a bite of his own burger. “I’m impressed. You did a lot of work,” he said after he swallowed. “Give me a sec, let me think.” He ate some more. Actually finished the entire burger in just a few bites and started in on his fries.

I intermittently nibbled at my food and sipped the creamy chocolate shake while he thought over everything—whatever the hell that entailed.

He took a drink from his soda and swiped at his mouth with a napkin. “What would you like me to do?”

“I was hoping you could dig a little deeper into this...” I motioned to the papers he’d set beside his plate. “This scandal happened years ago. I’m assuming you have access to some newspapery things I can’t get in to.”

“Newspapery?” He chuckled. “Assuming I can, what do I get out of this?”

“A story of what’s what.” I frowned and fought off a “duh.”

“From you.” He steepled his fingers over his plate. “What do I get from you?”

I wadded the napkin in my lap as I said, “Dude, I am so not for sale.”

His bark of laughter was loud and a wee bit insulting. “Like I said, charm and all, I am not in need of forcing, bribing or otherwise bartering myself off for dates. I mean, what kind of
story
can I get from you? If I do this digging around, I need to have something else waiting on the other end. If your info doesn’t pan out, I’m left with squat.”

Oh. I gave myself a mental
duh
. “I suppose that’s fair enough.”

Kellen smiled. “Care to start now?”

“I uh...” I sucked down half my shake and immediately regretted it. “Gaw, brain freeze.” I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Oh, I can so see how you’re the mastermind behind a man’s death and the subsequent cover-up to make it look like suicide.”

I frowned at him. “Rude much?”

His smile widened. “What? You’d like to be thought of in that light?”

“I guess not. But don’t underestimate me.”

Other books

Defiance Rising by Miles, Amy
The Bell Tolls for No One by Charles Bukowski
Ridin' Red by Nikki Prince
Drive by Gioertz, Karina
City of Dreams by Anton Gill