“No. But there may have been some funny business.”
Her ears perked up. Now that she could buy. “What do you mean?”
“Your neighbors, next door.
The wife was up in the middle of the night. I guess their kid was sick or something. Anyway, she claims at about two a.m. she looked out the window and saw three big guys walking quickly up the walkway toward the parking lot, their heads down, dressed in black.”
“Did she call the police?”
“No. She says the kid started crying and she went to take care of him.”
“Who found the body?”
“A cleaning lady.
Guess she comes a couple times a week and he was in his room.”
“Wow.”
“Did you see anything? I know most people aren’t awake in the middle of the night, but you’re a reporter…”
Gem laughed, “And what? Reporters don’t need sleep? Or do you think we spend our nights spying on our neighbors in the hopes of grabbing a big story?”
Of course that wasn’t far from the truth at all. She’d been awake, but hadn’t heard or seen anything. She’d been too focused on the surveillance pictures. Gem stood in front of Pazzini. He was a good cop. A decent guy from what she knew. Working the homicide beat as a journalist, one typically got to know these guys pretty well and although Pazzini could be rough around the edges, he always allowed her to do her job and they shared a mutual respect for one another.
“Truth is, I wasn’t awake, so no, I didn’t see anything.” That part was true, at least. However, Gem knew she was onto something big, and letting Pazzini in on it too soon could ruin everything. First, she needed real proof. She needed that story.
“Okay.” He nodded. “Did you know the guy?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t really know him. He was quiet, kept to himself, you know…one of those neighbors who you could live next to for years and maybe say hello a few times. It’s L.A.”
“Okay. This thing is going to get huge soon. Once the press…” he winked at her, “…gets wind of this and discovers who he is related to, this condo complex is going to be a nightmare. You might want to get on it before everyone else does.”
“Get on it?”
“The story.”
“Ah. You want to let me in on who he was related to?” Gem was kicking herself for not being up front with him. Here the guy was cool enough to hand her a story before anyone else was getting it, and she was keeping secrets that could affect his investigation.
“Wentworth. As in senator and, according to the rumors, planning to run for President.”
“No shit?”
“The kid was his nephew.”
“Crazy. Can I ask how he did it?”
“Shot himself. In the head.”
She shook her head. “My God. Why? Did he leave any note?”
“No note. But he sent his Uncle a text right before he did it saying he loved him.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Gem let out a low whistle. She had a feeling her story had just gotten much bigger.
CHAPTER FORTY
What a morning. After Tony wrapped up the Wentworth situation, he decided to try and track down Jake Hamilton’s ex-wife again. Hamilton’s funeral was that afternoon, so he was hopeful she was back in town to escort their daughter to the service.
Susan Hamilton had moved out of the residence she’d lived at with the doctor. Oddly, at least to Tony, she’d agreed to allow Dr. Hamilton to have custody of their daughter. It was pretty unusual for the mother to voluntarily give full custody of her child to her ex-spouse.
He knocked on the double wooden front doors of Susan Hamilton’s secluded beach house overlooking Malibu. An attractive, tall, blonde woman answered the door. “Yes? May I help you?” She was dressed in a tight fitting black dress.
“Susan Hamilton?”
“Yes.”
He introduced himself. “I just want to ask you a few questions about Dr. Hamilton.”
“I don’t really have time, Detective. I’m taking our daughter to the services soon.”
“I understand. This won’t take long.”
She sighed and opened the door. “We can sit in here.” She walked into a family room and sat down on a small love seat. The back of the room was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, giving an impressive view of the Pacific. “What can I do for you?”
“You and Dr. Hamilton had a pretty rough divorce.”
She crossed her legs. “I don’t know about that.”
“You took him to the cleaners,” Tony said.
She raised her eyebrows.
“Why did you divorce?”
“Irreconcilable differences,” she said.
“No cheating? On either side?”
“No.”
“Then why make it so ugly?” he asked. “You share a daughter together.”
“Listen, Detective, if you are here to ask me if I killed my ex-husband, I did not. I was in Monte Carlo when he died.”
“Yes. However, given your bitter divorce, I can’t help but wonder if you’d simply had enough of him and decided to have him removed from your life. Permanently.”
Her eyes widened. “That is preposterous.”
“Is it?”
“I think our little talk is over.” She rose quickly from the small sofa. Tony didn’t move.
“One more question. Why was your daughter staying with friends when your ex was killed, and why did he have full custody of Bethany?”
“Because my mother can’t stand me.”
Tony turned around and saw a pretty, but very thin, teenage girl walk into the room.
“Bethany!” Susan Hamilton said.
“It’s true. I don’t care. When all this is over, I plan to have myself emancipated from you. You’ve never been a mother to me. I loved my dad and he’s gone now. Maybe you did have him killed, I wouldn’t be surprised.
“That is enough, young lady!” Susan turned sharply towards Tony. “It’s time for you to go, Detective.”
He ignored her and looked at Bethany. “Do you think it’s possible? That your mother hired someone to kill your dad?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t love him. I don’t think she’s capable of loving anyone. She’s a gold digger and even though my dad was a doctor, he didn’t make enough to keep her happy.”
Tony smiled. He liked this kid. She was smart.
“Get out! Get out of here, Detective. I will call my attorney. I did not kill Jake, nor did I have him killed. My daughter is distraught about her father’s death.”
Bethany shot her mother a cold look and turned back to Pazzini. “To answer your question about why I was with friends when he was killed, it was because he had some important cases he was working on that were keeping him at the hospital later than usual. He didn’t want me to be alone in the house at night. It was only supposed to be for a few days.” Tears welled in her eyes and she wiped her face.
Tony nodded. “I am sorry for your loss, Bethany.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m calling my lawyer!” Her mother shouted.
“Go ahead. You may need one.”
Tony walked out of Susan Hamilton’s home knowing the woman was hiding something.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Gem wasn’t buying that Chad had offed himself.
She had a friend who worked 9-1-1 dispatch. On the chance she had been working last night, Gem gave her a call.
“Hello,” Linda answered her phone on the second ring. Her voice sounded gravelly and tired.
“Hi Linda.
Did I wake you?” Gem asked.
“No. I just got in. I worked dispatch last night and then had some errands to run when I got off work. I’m going to bed after I eat, so if you’re calling for a coffee break, I can’t do it.”
Gem smiled. “No. I actually wanted to ask you about a call that might have come in while you were on this morning at about seven.”
“Crazy night last night.
What call?”
“Would have been a suicide.”
“Had a few of those last night.
Full moon.”
“This would have been near my place in Studio City. Actually in the same complex—caddy corner to me.”
“I knew I recognized the address! I took that call. Housekeeper found him. Why are you asking?” Linda asked.
“He was my neighbor. He’s also a pretty high profile guy as far as his connections go.”
Linda paused on the other end of the phone. “Wait a minute, he’s a Wentworth as in Senator?”
“Yes.”
“You’re doing a story, aren’t you?” She let out a low whistle.
Gem laughed. “You know me well.”
“Two peas in a pod.
That’s why we’re friends. Hey, how are the boys?”
“Good. Teenagers. They want to come home, of course.” Gem met Linda in Lamaze class while pregnant with Austen. They’d become fast friends, raised kids together, and even divorced around the same time.
“Mine too. So, this story sounds like it could be a juicy one, huh?”
“Could be,” Gem replied.
“I might have another for you, in case you haven’t already heard.”
“Oh yeah?
What’s that?”
“Craig Johnson.
“Who?”
“The really rich guy who made all his cash in textiles and then in software?
The one who has been quoted off and on for saying politically incorrect things?”
“Yeah?”
Gem’s ears perked up. “He’s a real asshole. Gay basher and misogynist.”
“I think he was also a racist pig.”
“Was?”
“Yes. Chad Wentworth isn’t the only one who took the easy way out last night,” Linda said.
“Oh my God.
Johnson, too?” Gem replied.
“Yes.”
“Whoa. That
will
be a big story. Wonder which one will be bigger?”
“You tell me, reporter lady. Coffee next week?” Linda asked.
“You got it. I’ll call you.”
Gem hung up the phone and raced back to her office, lunch half eaten. If she didn’t know better, there was definitely a scandal brewing. Wentworth. Johnson. Both racists. Both with money and connections. If Gem could find the common denominator linking the two of them together, a big story was only the beginning.
Huge story.
Big time.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Jake’s funeral was everything Kelly expected it to be: a depressing and horrible experience, reminding her of her mother’s service when she was only seven.
She shifted her dark sunglasses on the bridge of her nose. Eric stood on one side of her, Dr. Jessop on the other. She’d asked Simmons to stand away from the mourners a bit, as she didn’t want anyone to know she was being shadowed by the police.
Kelly couldn’t help glance at Jake’s daughter who stood in the front row with her mother. From Kelly’s vantage point, there wasn’t a lot of love lost between mother and daughter. Tears streamed down the girl’s delicate, pale face and her mother didn’t put an arm around her, didn’t grab the girl’s hand—nothing. Susan Hamilton’s face was stone cold behind her oversized sunglasses. It made Kelly wonder if the ex-Mrs. Hamilton killed Jake.
As the priest gave a quick eulogy, Kelly brushed away tears. Eric squeezed her hand. He leaned over and whispered, “No wonder Jake divorced her.”
Kelly nodded.
Once the service was finished and the mourners began dispersing, Kelly found herself drawn to Jake’s daughter. Without giving it much thought, she headed over to her. The teenager had long, blonde hair and intense blue eyes.
“Bethany?”
“Yes?” the girl replied, her voice barely audible.
“My name is Kelly Morales. I was a colleague and friend of your dad’s.” Bethany stared at her. “He was a wonderful man and he loved you dearly. I am so sorry for what happened. I know he will always be looking out for you.”
“Thank you.” Bethany tried to muster a smile, but instead the tears pooled in her eyes again. Kelly wondered if she shouldn’t have said anything to her.
“Excuse me, but we really need to be going,” Mrs. Hamilton interrupted. She looked at Kelly with obvious distaste and distrust.
Kelly watched them leave and had the nagging feeling Mrs. Hamilton was not totally on the up-and-up. But she pushed it out of her mind because right now, all she really wanted to do was mourn her friend—a good man who had tragically lost his life all too soon.
She walked back to the gravesite and picked up one of the white roses placed in a bucket of water. She took the rose and set it gently on Jake’s coffin. “I promise you whoever did this will pay for it,” she whispered.
She stood and turned around, nearly bumping into the man behind her. “Oh, excuse me,” she said.
“No problem,” he replied.
Kelly walked off toward Simmons who stood leaning against an old oak. There was something weird about the guy she’d run into. She knew she’d seen him before, but couldn’t place exactly where. She figured it had to be at the hospital. She turned around, feeling his eyes on her back. There he was. He smiled at her and then turned away and placed a rose on the casket. Unsettling. She was being paranoid. That was all. It was the day, the turmoil, the sadness—all of it. And the fact that whoever had murdered her friend was still out there.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Mark was flying high. Sure, last night had been rough. Killing Chad had not been easy. Yeah, he hadn’t really pulled the trigger and had watched the poor SOB do it to himself. But that was all okay, because he was moving up the ranks now.
After killing Chad, he, Connor, and Thomas had gone to some guy’s yacht. His last name was Johnson and all Mark learned was he was one of the power players. They played out the same basic scenario as with Chad only this time, they forced their victim to hang himself. It was brutal and ugly and yet in some deviant way, Mark realized he’d enjoyed every second of it.
Smug and feeling pretty damn good, he’d taken a chance and had gone to Hamilton’s funeral where he’d seen his lady love. Oh so sad.
Leaving the service, he got a call on his cell from Thomas. “Hey brother, looks like it really is your lucky day. You have a meeting to go to. Here is the address. Be there in an hour. Give the guard your name and you can go on in.”
An hour later, Mark found himself in the foyer of an amazing estate waiting for whoever he was supposed to be waiting for.
Nerves knotted his stomach.
After a few minutes a good-looking guy came through a set of double doors to the left. He was tall, blonde, tan, fiftiesh, what could only be called distinguished. Mark stood. He was happy he had on his only suit. The man reached out his hand. “Mark Pritchett. Nice to meet you. I am Peter Redding.”