The Lady Who Cried Murder (A Mac Faraday Mystery) (11 page)

“Because the victim is now dead—a true accidental death,” David said. “Without any solid details about the rape and the victim not available to testify, the county prosecutor decided not to press charges. It doesn’t even say on the tape where the rape took place, so our prosecutor may not have jurisdiction.”

“According to the recording,” Mac said, “Khloe’s mother had more than one copy of the tape, and in the event of her sudden death, it would make its way to the proper authorities. Her lawyer had one copy.”

“Khloe was staying at her late mother’s house,” David said. “It did show signs of having been searched. For all we know, the killer found the tape.”

“We have evidence that Khloe was in contact with Palazzi’s lawyer shortly before her murder,” Mac said. “We have every reason to believe she was going to reveal that the senator was a rapist.”

“And her murderer found the tape,” Cameron said. “So where does that leave our psycho singer-slash-stripper-slash-gay best friend?”

“He could be a hired killer,” Mac said, “who decided to up his price when he found out what a gem he had.”

With her arms folded across her chest, Cameron peered at Mac. “Why did Palazzi think you had the tape?”

“Because I called him on it,” Mac said. “This proves he’s scared.”

“Maybe he has reason to be,” she replied. “You say the house where your victim was killed had been searched. The prosecutor and lawyer aren’t doing anything with their copy. Palazzi must know they have it. Yet he sent someone to break into your house for a copy of the tape.”

“She’s right. Why would Palazzi send someone to steal it from you if he had it stolen when he had Khloe killed?” David asked.

“Everest didn’t say on the tape exactly how many copies she had,” Mac said. “The killer Palazzi hired could have gotten the copy Khloe had and gave it to him. When I called him on it, Palazzi must have assumed I got my hands on yet another copy.”

“Or your senator didn’t kill Khloe,” Cameron said, “and my psycho singer-slash-stripper-slash-gay best friend killed her, stole her copy of the tape, and decided to add extortion to his resume.”

Chapter Eleven

“If Otto Grant says he’s working for me, he’s lying,” Private Investigator Kevin Cooper said with a laugh when Mac, David, and Cameron confronted him upon arriving at his office the morning after Otto’s failed break in.

They had decided to use the element of surprise. Since the court system was closed for the weekend, Otto had to spend the rest of the weekend in jail before Bogie could book him for criminal trespassing and breaking and entering.

Otto was fortunate in that he had an alibi for the day of Khloe Everest’s murder. Williamsburg police in Virginia had him on a surveillance video breaking into a bank’s safety deposit vault. The evidence against him for breaking and entering into a bank also eliminated him as a suspect for murder-for-hire.

First thing Monday morning, David, Cameron, and Mac left in the police chief’s cruiser to go to Washington, DC. On the off chance that she was going to be gone for a long time, Cameron had left Irving with Archie to care for, much to the relief of the hotel manager, Jeff Ingles. When two members of the hotel staff had gone up to move Cameron into another suite, they ran screaming from the room after catching sight of the twenty-five pound skunk cat.

Driving without stopping, they quickly made it to Old Town Alexandria, Virginia, and Kevin Cooper’s brownstone office, which, Mac noted, with its view of the Potomac River, was the high-rent district.

Before they left, Archie did a quick background check, which revealed that Kevin Cooper had been a police officer whose career was speckled with disciplinary charges, until he had abruptly quit twelve years ago to start his own private investigative practice. Based in the historic district of Old Town Alexandria, his service had a staff of six investigators working under him.

“That’s pretty good for a private investigator starting out on his own,” Mac noted when Archie reported her findings.

She looked up from the screen of her laptop. Her emerald green eyes, their hue deepened by the red in her robe, sparkled. “He’s got a pretty good bank account and a couple of off-shore accounts with over a million dollars in both of them.”

“He’s dirty,” Mac concluded. “He’s Harry Palazzi’s cleanup man.” Struck with a thought, he asked, “When did you say he left the force?”

“Twelve years ago.”

“What month?” Mac asked.

She flipped through some screens before finding the answer. “In a couple of months, it will be thirteen years.”

“Dee Blakeley was murdered twelve years ago. In April, it will be thirteen years.” Mac peered closely at her report. “Kevin Cooper was a uniform. There was no sign of forced entry. Dee had let her killer in. She would have let in a uniform officer the night before her hearing.”

“He may be your killer,” Archie said. “He got a big payday for killing the woman who was going to ruin Palazzi’s career and life, and he started his own business doing dirty work for bad guys.”

“Which could explain the other women’s murders,” Mac said. “They were hits for some of Cooper’s other clients.”

Mac’s suspicions were further compounded when he called a detective friend who was still working in the department. Kevin Cooper had been on duty at the time of Blakeley’s murder; plus, he had been patrolling her area.

“What’s it like?” Mac asked Kevin Cooper after the investigator invited them into his office. In response to the private investigator’s questioning gaze, he explained, “Working with criminals like Otto.”

“I don’t work with criminals,” Kevin Cooper said. “I never hired him. He’s lying.” He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a weak jaw and thick, wavy ash-blond hair. The combination of a dark tan and deep wrinkles gave his face a worn look.

“How do you know him?” David asked.

Seemingly unengaged in the conversation, Cameron was taking in the expensive décor, which consisted of original paintings and a Tiffany lamp on his antique cherry desk. It was not your typical PI decor.

“I busted him once breaking into my office,” Cooper said. “Because I have a heart, I didn’t have him arrested, and I sent him on his way with a warning. I guess implicating me in this job was his idea of revenge.”

“Revenge for what?” Mac asked while looking him up and down. “If you didn’t send him to jail, he should have been grateful.” He tried to envision Kevin Cooper, dressed in a police uniform, stabbing Dee Blakeley to death while she begged for her life.

“Crooks don’t think like you and me.” Practically knocking David out of his way, he ordered Cameron, “Don’t touch that.”

Cameron stopped in the middle of adjusting the thermostat. “I’m sorry.” She proceeded to fan herself with her hand. “Hot flash. I was trying to turn the temperature down a bit. I’ll step outside to cool off.” She went out into the hallway.

Seeing Mac’s and David’s startled looks, Kevin chuckled. “I have a devil of a time keeping control of the heating bill around here with people changing the temperature up and down to meet their own personal temps.”

Mac folded his arms across his chest. “Do you remember Dee Blakeley?”

“Should I?”

“You were on patrol in her area the night she was murdered. One month later, you resigned from the police force to start this company.”

“Now I remember.” Kevin grinned. “Pretty young woman. She was a lobbyist. Stabbed multiple times by some maniac.”

“Why do you say maniac?” Mac asked.

“Like you said, I was with the force then. I know all about the murder. Multiple stab wounds. It had to have been a psycho.”

“I was the lead detective on that case,” Mac said. “She was scheduled to testify before the grand jury the next day about Senator Harry Palazzi raping her, but she ended up dead. You were on duty that night. One month later, you had the bucks to start this PI firm. Last night, Otto Grant told us that you sent him to retrieve an audio recording on which Senator Palazzi confessed to raping another woman. Does he by any chance have you on retainer? I guess after Blakeley’s murder, he knows he can trust you.”

The private investigator stood up to his full height. “What are you suggesting, Faraday?”

Mac stepped forward to look him in the eye. “I’m not suggesting, I’m saying. Your name has come up twice in connection to the senator, and both times the situation involved cleaning up this sexual predator’s messes. Now’s your chance to be one of the first rats off the ship that I’m going to personally sink.”

“Obviously, you have no idea who you’re dealing with,” the private investigator told him. “If you had any proof of a connection between me and Grant or Palazzi, then we wouldn’t be talking here. You’d have me in the police station.”

“Oh, but we will,” David said. “That recording has gotten a lot of people interested in Senator Harry Palazzi and his dirty dealings. It’s only a matter of time before the rats start jumping ship and cutting deals. There’s only a limited supply of deals to go around. If I were you, I’d cut one while there were still some to be had.”

“Good luck with that.” Kevin plucked a business card from his desk blotter. “Now I have a breakfast meeting with a governor at the yacht club. I suggest you leave, and the next time you want to speak to me call my lawyer.” He held out the card to David.

Outside the office, David allowed a smile to come to his lips.

“What?” Mac asked him.

David handed him the card. “Check out the name of his lawyer.”

Mac chuckled at the name: Samuel Brooks. Kevin Cooper had the same lawyer as Senator Harry Palazzi.

Out on the street, they found Cameron Gates sitting on the front stoop.

“How’s your hot flash?” David asked.

She smiled at them. “Once a woman claims to be having a hot flash, men stop all questioning. Notice he didn’t even walk me out, which left me free to snoop around.”

“What did you find?” Mac asked.

“That thermostat was a fake,” she said. “I spotted it right away. It’s a hidden camera and mic. Cooper apparently records his meetings. I also found that his administrative assistant listed a meeting between him, your Senator Palazzi, and a Brooks guy Saturday morning. It was called suddenly, because I saw where she had to scratch out a couple of meetings for him to make that one, which was noted with a red pen and starred. We could be assuming things, but it looked important.”

Noting that the sidewalk was becoming busy with people out and about, David gestured for them to head for the cruiser that he had parked at a meter down the street.

Mac fell into step to walk with Cameron. “Suppose your theory is right. Suppose the killer wasn’t working for Palazzi. One of Khloe’s friends got wind of what her announcement was going to be about and decided to cash in without Khloe. He killed her, found the tape, and used it to blackmail the senator.”

“And then after your encounter with Palazzi Friday night,” David said over his shoulder as he was leading them to the cruiser, “he assumed it was you who had the tape when he was contacted by the blackmailer. So Cooper sent Otto to search your house.”

“But you don’t have it,” Cameron said. “We know our stripper-slash-rock singer-slash-gay best friend is connected to Khloe, which would have given him access to her house, so he may have it.”

“That’s our next stop.” David punched the button on his keychain to unlock the door.

Luckily, morning rush hour traffic was lightening up. They went up the Washington Beltway to cross into Maryland until they came to Potomac, which was where they exited.

“Potomac is quite a ritzy neighborhood for a gay reality show actor,” Mac noted.

Cameron was equally impressed by the brownstone townhomes and luxury houses. “Not the neighborhood I was expecting. Are you sure you’re in the right town, O’Callaghan?” She checked the caller ID on the phone vibrating on her hip. “Hey! It’s that producer from Hollywood.”

Doubtful himself, David checked the address on the GPS. “Yes, I’m in the right neighborhood, according to the address we have in his file.”

Cameron was too busy talking on the phone to listen. “What have you got for me?” She put the producer on speaker.

“I got it from a very reliable source. Tiffany Blanchard was involved with Nick Fields,” came the sultry voice from the phone.

“What reliable source?” Mac asked.

“Tiffany’s modeling agent,” was the answer. “Who are you?”

“He’s Mac Faraday,” Cameron said. “He’s the homicide detective on the case for Khloe Everest’s murder.”

The producer’s voice deepened. “Well, Mr. Faraday, you have a very sexy voice. Does your body match?”

David laughed.

“My name is Shelby,” she said. “Maybe you’d like to come out to the West Coast. We could do lunch…or dessert…or what not.”

“Focus, Shelby,” Cameron said. “Tell us about Tiffany Blanchard and Nick Fields.”

“She didn’t tell her agent about Nick,” she replied. “Remember, Nick was supposed to be gay on Khloe’s reality show. Everyone thought he was for real. But then one weekend shortly before Khloe’s show got cancelled, Tiffany’s agent went to a resort in Malibu where a lot of people in the industry go to hook up with people they aren’t supposed to be hooking up with. Why they all go to this place, I don’t know. If someone really doesn’t want people to know who he’s hooking up with, then he should go someplace where no one knows him. But this is Hollywood.”

“Maybe it’s because they do want to be seen there,” Cameron said.

“Maybe,” she replied. “The paparazzi practically live there. Anyway, Tiffany’s agent ran into her and Nick Fields. Tiffany begged her agent not to tell anyone because she said Nick was up for another gig and if word got out about him and her, it would ruin it.”

Mac and David exchanged glances.

“In other words, if word got out that he was straight,” Cameron said, “his career would be over.”

“Which is what happened,” she replied. “Word got out. I don’t know who spread it. Her agent said that Tiffany was ga-ga over Nick and devastated when his career was ruined and he had to move back East.”

“Maybe she forced him out of the closet,” Cameron said. “Though from where I come from, it isn’t the straight guys who are in the closet.”

“Whoever leaked it, ended Nick’s Hollywood career,” Shelby said. “A month after her agent ran into her at that resort, Khloe’s show got the ax. The last time Tiffany was seen alive was at the cast party. She got murdered, and Nick hightailed it out of town.” She gasped, “Oh, but guess what.”

“What?” Cameron asked.

“You know that resort I was talking about? Tiffany’s body was found on their beach. Do you think that means something?”

“Sounds significant to me,” Cameron said.

The cruiser was now nearing the end of a cul-de-sac that was home to two houses. Seeing that they had arrived at Nick’s home, Cameron thanked her.

“Hey, Mac,” Shelby called out, “Cameron has my number. Call me sometime. I could listen to your voice all day long.”

David and Cameron laughed at the blush that came to Mac’s cheeks while she disconnected the call and placed the phone in its case on her utility belt.

Outside a white stone home, a woman was helping three small children build a snowman. According to a sign in front of the house next door, a yellow Colonial-style house with white shutters, it was the address they were looking for.

David pulled the cruiser up in front of the house and parked in the street. Seeing the police cruiser, and David in his uniform and police jacket, as well as Cameron and Mac, who were wearing their police shields and weapons on their hips, the children and woman stopped playing.

The three of them offered smiles to the family. David tipped his hat. “Morning.”

The woman’s smile was weak. “Good morning.” She continued to watch them file up to the front stoop of the yellow house. Reaching the door first, Mac stopped and held up his hand for them to stop. He leaned sideways to press his ear to the door. “Do you hear that?”

David stepped up next to Mac to listen. “What is that? Sounds like a woman screaming.”

“That’s what it sounds like to me.”

Her hand on her gun, Cameron stepped between them to listen. Abruptly, the scream became louder and higher in pitch. All three of them reached for their guns.