Read Between the Tines (26 page)

I took the card, and we said our goodbyes until the funeral. Funeral. Tomorrow. Something about knowing his service was scheduled for tomorrow made
Gary
's death even more real than before and ramped up my need to find the killer. The best way to rid my mind of the impending funeral was to get busy with the landscaping.

I drove directly to The Garden Gate and hooked up my trailer then loaded it with the Bobcat from the garage. I had just enough time left in the afternoon to bust up the concrete and get back to the shop to talk with Irene. Cooling off from the exertion in my pickup, I called a local dumpster company and arranged delivery of a large container for tomorrow so we could load the concrete and have it hauled away. After the event that I didn't want to think about was over, I'd go back to the Buzzys' house and haul the chunks of concrete to the bin.

I set my phone on the seat and took off, careful when exiting the alley not to scrape the bottom of the trailer on the curb. Settling into my drive, I let the cool air wick away my perspiration, wishing it would wick away my misgivings over tomorrow. What I wouldn't give to be able to tell Karen tomorrow that I'd found her husband's killer. But that didn't seem likely at this point.

My cell vibrated on the seat and I checked Caller ID. Dr. Jackie Morris. Drat, I hadn't yet decided what I was going to say when she called back.

I clicked my headset and answered, "Paige Turner."

"This is Dr. Morris. You left a message for me yesterday."

"Yes, thank you for calling back." I turned the corner and tried to come up with something to say after the superficial hellos were over.

"Sorry I didn't return your call until now, but I had gone to
Orlando
for a conference and was traveling yesterday."

Hmm,
Orlando
. Conference. Is this her alibi? I had to find out how long she stayed there. "Ooh,
Orlando
. I'm so jealous. Did you get to see Mickey?"

"Yes, in fact I spent most of the weekend with him." She laughed. "Now, what can I do for you, Paige?" Her professional tone gave me an idea.

She'd been in
Orlando
most of the weekend and traveled yesterday so that must mean she was romping with the big mouse when
Gary
was killed. Still, I needed to find out if
Gary
was a client or if they were having an affair. "I was referred to you by a friend of mine.
Gary
Buzzy."

"Oh yes,
Gary
." If she knew he was dead, she wasn't a bit upset.

I stopped at a four way stop and sat to concentrate on the call. "He mentioned that you were located in
Portland
, but I hate to drive in the city itself. Where exactly are you located?"

"My office is in a small building off
TV Highway
, but my suite is undergoing renovations. Until the work is finished, I'm leasing a conference room at a hotel in
Beaverton
. Is this convenient for you?"

Ah yes, an explanation for meeting
Gary
at a hotel. Still, they could have something going on, so I wouldn't let her off the hook until Yolanda confirmed payments for counseling services.

Having gotten all the info I needed, I just had to wrap up the call. "
Beaverton
is a perfect location for me. I'll get back to you when I'm ready to make an appointment." Brilliant, Paige. She isn't going to wonder why you called then backed out.

"I understand. Deciding to seek counseling is a big step. If I can help you make that decision, please call me back." If she thought my sudden farewell was odd, her tone didn't show it. "Be sure to tell
Gary
I said thank you for the referral," she said pleasantly then hung up.

Tell him thank you! She really didn't know
Gary
was dead. She'd been out of town. Neither Mitch nor his men had gotten to her yet. She didn't kill
Gary
. So who did?

I took my foot off the brake and headed down the street. I had the next two hours of pounding concrete to work on that puzzle and maybe, just maybe, something would pop into my mind that would lead me in the right direction, and I'd locate the ever-elusive killer.

Hours later, Irene was waiting for me in the classroom area of the shop when I arrived covered in concrete dust and debris. My hair had fallen from the holder and was plastered against my face that was sticky with perspiration. Correct that, sweat. I know it's not ladylike to sweat, but busting up a concrete patio in eighty-degree weather would make any woman do more than glisten like a lady.

Irene was far cleaner. In fact, her face had that freshly made up look as if she took the time at the end of a busy workday to freshen her makeup. A folder lying on the table next to a mug of coffee, kept her hands busy. As I made my way toward her, she alternated between straightening the file and sipping the mug. When I came into her peripheral vision, her wary eyes lit on me and refused to let go.

"Irene, thank you for coming," I said and pulled out a chair.

She glanced around. "Can we talk somewhere more private?"

"Sure, my office. Follow me." Cringing over bringing a stranger into the chaos of my office, I set off. I entered and hastily cleared off a chair. "Sorry about the mess. I don't have much time to work in here."

She seemed to buy my lame explanation and sat, clutching the folder to her chest as if it were a life vest. "I made a copy of Barney's file, but it won't do you any good."

"And why's that?" I asked and sat.

"He couldn't have killed
Gary
. He's moved away. To
California
."

"He might have come back for a day."

"I called his house and got his wife. She said he has an airtight alibi. He's in jail."

"In jail." My voice shot up in disappointment.

"She said he got into a fight at a bar the night before
Gary
was murdered. She's tired of him letting his temper get the best of him and she refused to bail him out so he's been in jail ever since then." She sat back. "I called the local police and confirmed his dates of incarceration just to be sure."

"Thanks for being so thorough."

She held out the folder. "So I guess you won’t be needing this."

"No," I said knowing an alibi this strong couldn’t be wrong.

She settled the folder on her lap. "I can give you the other information you asked for, though." She dug a folded piece of paper out of her blue canvas purse. "Security shows
Gary
's car entering the lot at 5:40 a.m., but he never logged onto his computer. Nathan entered the lot at 8:55 and accessed the network twenty minutes later."

I leaned back in my chair. "So
Gary
got there but didn't log in. Most people these days, go straight to their computers and check email when they get to work. Was
Gary
like that?"

"Sort of. He definitely had a regular procedure he followed when he arrived. He'd stop to say good morning, go to his office and put his briefcase down then get a cup of coffee." She paused and a brief smile tipped her lips. "He never made me get his coffee. The other big shots at the company did, but not
Gary
."

"Seems like he was a great guy to work for."

She laughed outright. "Don't get me wrong, he had his moments, but yes, we'd take him back."

We were moving off topic. "So after getting his coffee, what did he do?"

"He'd look at any messages I'd left on his desk before checking voice mail. If something was urgent, he'd return calls first and then check email. I suppose
if
he went to his office on Monday morning, he skipped returning calls because it was too early for anyone else to be at work yet."

"If we give him time to enter the building and if he didn't deviate from his routine, he'd have gotten to email before six."

She nodded. "Yes, if everything was normal he would have, but he didn't. Personally, I don't think he even came into the building. And before you ask me to check, I asked my person in security if they logged key cards used to open the main door. She said the company never installed the software to track it."

"Seems like he might have run into someone in the parking lot and left with them."

"I checked on that, too. No one else had entered the gate since the cleaning crew arrived around nine the night before."

"So if someone convinced
Gary
to go with them, they had to leave the lot to get into the other person's car. A person who either couldn't get through the gate because they didn't have a card or an employee who knew the system recorded their card use." I shook my head. "That doesn't help at all. It could have been anyone."

Before I grew too glum from this discussion that was only going in circles, I grabbed my phone and clicked to the picture I'd taken of the three men. Though I already knew who they were, I wanted to get Irene's take on them. I leaned across the desk and showed her the screen. "Do you recognize these men?"

She strained to see the photo, but she didn't look for long. "Sure. They all work at Pacific. If you think they had something to do with
Gary
, I don't have a clue what the connection was."

I explained Daisy's problem and my desire to identify the men in question.

Irene reacted with the same surprise as Mary had. "I know Daisy met with
Gary
a few times, but he never documented any harassment. The first thing
Gary
would have been trained to do in a harassment allegation was to complete a P1297. That's an incident report form we use. Then he'd give it to me. I'd log the form and file it in a pending file." She paused and rubbed her forehead with small circular motions. "So why didn't he follow protocol?"

Hazel popped her head in the doorway. "Okay to interrupt?"

I waved her in. "Sure."

Sitting on her shoulder, Mr. T squawked, "Time to make the donuts."

Irene turned an uncomfortable eye toward the bird, and Hazel caught the look. She went straight to Mr. T's nighttime cage and urged him to enter. "One small step for man, one giant step for mankind," he said and hopped onto his perch.

Irene was still staring at him.

"Don't mind him," I said. "He likes to repeat things he hears on TV. Sometimes what he says is right on target, other times it's just gibberish."

"Resistance is futile," he said and turned his back to us in a flurry of feathers.

"Are you done jabbering so I can give this to Paige?" Hazel asked the bird and handed me a zipped bank bag. "I've finished closing up. This just needs to go in the safe."

"Thanks," I said and dropped it on the desk.

She cocked a questioning brow at Irene who sat in a trance, and I mouthed, "Later."

"Okay, then," she said. "If you don't need me for anything else, I'll be going."

"See you tomorrow." I waited for Hazel to leave before turning my attention back to Irene. "Sorry about that."

"You know." Her eyes came alive. "I've been thinking. Maybe
Gary
did record these men. I forgot that he went to Radio Shack on Thursday morning. He didn't say where he was going but came back with a Radio Shack bag. He wasn't the sort of guy to go shopping during work hours and it caught me by surprise. Do you think he bought recording equipment?"

Yes! Yes! Yes! I resisted shooting up my fist in victory, looked at the photo on my cell and wondered how I would find this recording. If one of these men had killed
Gary
, I was out of my league. I no more had an idea how to proceed with investigating them in a safe manner than I had in how to get Adam to forgive me.

Still, I couldn't let Irene know she was on the right track. She might do something stupid. I know, a bit like calling the kettle black, but I have more experience in solving murders than Irene.

And to do that, I needed a confirmation on their names. Not that I didn't trust Mary, but I had to make sure she wasn't somehow in on this. I held up my phone again to bring Irene's attention back to the ogling men. "I don't know if
Gary
made any recordings or not, but if you'll give me the names of these guys, I'll look into it."

She nodded and quickly started scribbling. She finished with a flourish and looked up. "I've listed them from right to left as the men are pictured."

It was easy to see why she was an executive assistant. She was thorough, seemed organized, but more importantly, her hesitation in bringing Barney's file to me said she was an ethical woman.

"There's one more thing I wanted to ask you about." I described the story Nathan told me about the
Fatal Attraction
woman stalking
Gary
in
Texas
.

"Hah! That Nathan Jacobs makes me so mad. Why does he have to exaggerate everything?" She fisted her hands and snarled. "
Gary
wasn't being stalked. He had an affair with Cara Long, a VP at the
Texas
plant. When
Gary
met Karen he broke it off with Cara, and she made life tough for him at work. You know, the whole woman scorned thing. Instead of getting her in trouble, he asked for a transfer. That's the kind of guy
Gary
was. Even if Cara deserved to be reprimanded for her behavior, he made the change and didn't betray her."