Murder, Madness & Love (Detective Quaid Mysteries #1) Page 5
“Of course, and they serve the best right here, which is why it’s my favorite restaurant.”
“Yours and mine. I’m here every chance I get. In fact, I hold most of my business meetings here. One waitress claimed they were planning on naming a menu item after me.”
“What item?”
“Instead of the Special of the Day, how about John’s Favorite, since there is nothing on the menu I haven’t tried and loved,” he declared proudly. “In fact, I proposed to Leeann here—got down on one knee and everything. Of course, I had to have two waiters help me back up.”
He laughed, and she laughed along with him. The tensions of the week dissipated.
“I can’t wait to see her. I especially want to know how she deals with your sense of humor on a twenty-four-hour basis. You’re both still planning to have dinner with me on Thanksgiving, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it, but, talking about dinner, are you going to eat or just play with it? I mean, I love salmon,” he hinted.
Sarah smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, no appetite.”
“If I ever make such a statement, you better call an ambulance, ’cause I’ll be dying.”
Sarah smiled and finally took a bite of her food.
They were having coffee and cheesecake when the host brought a telephone to the table. “Mrs. Palmer, a telephone call for you.”
She handed Sarah the receiver.
“Thank you.” Sarah gave John a quizzical look.
“Hello,” she said, straining to hear clearly over the noise in the restaurant.
No response. She handed the phone to John and then quickly left the dining room. John put the receiver to his ear in time to hear the click of a disconnected call. He realized, despite Sarah’s objections, he needed to call his friend.
John followed her to the restaurant lobby.
“Why did you run out here?”
“I looked up just as she handed me the phone, there was someone here, watching. He followed me here.”
“And you practically run into his arms!” He said angrily.
“I … a reflex. I just wanted to know who…pretty foolish, huh.” She realized her error and knew she deserved his wrath.
“Get your coat, I’ll take you home.”
He went back to the table to take care of the bill and check with the host about the sex of the caller, or if she had seen anyone in the lobby.
“I’m pretty sure it was a man,” she said. “He said he had an emergency call for Mrs. Sarah Palmer. I didn’t notice anyone in the lobby. I’ve been busy helping the servers with drinks. Sorry.”
John drove Sarah to her home in the foothills of the Chugach Mountains. The ride started out solemnly. He occupied himself with plans to begin a deeper investigation about the phantom stalker, and Sarah was content to be quiet, lost in thought. She resigned herself to the inevitable—police involvement. Dealing with the police was something she desperately wanted to avoid because of their attitude toward her in Seattle. Dredging up the past caused her enormous anxiety that was almost too distressing to think about, and Sarah tried to redirect her thoughts by occupying herself with the snow-covered scenery.
“I can’t wait to see how the house looks, with all the snow.” Sarah tried to sound cheerful.
“You know, I’d have bought that place, had I known it was for sale. It’s a beautiful home.”
“Luck, it was pure luck. I got word before they actually advertised, and when I toured the place, I jumped at the opportunity.” Her new second home, located in the foothills of the Chugach Mountains, was a large three-story log home built by a wealthy executive from Anchorage.
For a cost of over two million, he had built the most luxurious log home in the Northwest. Professionally decorated, the builder presented the home to his bride, and she hated it. The builder left, angry, and sold the home for half the market value. Thus, Sarah bought her dream home. High on a hill with a view of the mud flats, Anchorage, and the inlet, the cabin brought her hope and inspiration. For convenience, she still kept her condominium in Anchorage during the workweek, but her home in the foothills became her sanctuary.
“I think what I like the most is the seclusion; owning a hundred acres of land ensures privacy. Did you know a doctor bought the house next door?”
“He’s over a mile away—not exactly next door.”
She began to feel better. The farther away from the city they got, the more relaxed Sarah became. Several miles before they arrived, the house came into view. Brightly colored Christmas lights outlined the house and covered all the trees, evergreen, and birch alike. The fantasyland inspired a grin that nothing would squelch.
“Goodness. Can you believe what she’s done?”
“Your housekeeper?”
“Yes, Mrs. Emma Smith. She’s the sister of Cecil Stansberry, my caretaker in Washington, and she prefers the title household manager, or home manager. Like Jackson doesn’t want to be called a secretary, Emma doesn’t want to be called the housekeeper.”
“I see.” John chuckled. “Then what is her job?”
“She hires and supervises the housekeeper and the groundskeeper, and she does most of the cooking, unless I get into the kitchen first. She seems to have fallen in love with Alaska. I had three rooms on the first floor remodeled and decorated to her personal style. Her apartment faces the hillside; she says she feels like she lives deep in the woods. She loves the view and enjoys watching the wildlife come in search of food. Birds, moose, and even a bear have come through the yard.”
“Exactly why I would’ve bought the place. It’s close to the city, yet it’s still wilderness. What other changes did you make?”
“Other than giving Emma her own apartment, I put in an exercise room with state-of-the-art equipment and a wonderful art studio for me—not much really. It’s very green, self-sustaining, and quite comfortable.”
“You got a bargain, for sure. She’s done a beautiful job, but Christmas already?” he commented when they pulled in to the long driveway.
“I’m sure Emma just wanted to surprise me. She’s always planning things like that. She’s more like my mother than my housekeeper.”
“You mean home manager,” he reminded her. “Since Eddie is here, I think I’ll say good-bye at the door and get back to town. I want to consult with a detective…”
“Please, come in. I need to tell you something. I should’ve told you earlier, but you’re going to involve the police, and, before you do, I think you should know this.”
“Sure.” He looked at her closely, but her expression did not reveal anything. He parked the car, and they walked to the house together.
Eddie greeted them. “Welcome home! What about all those lights? Beautiful, aren’t they? Really gets the spirit stirred up.”
Rambling and excited, Eddie looked like a kid at Christmas.
Sarah gave him a warm hug. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”
“The coffee’s brewing in the kitchen. Emma’s retired for the evening.” He noticed his brother’s serious mood. “What happened? Something happen?”
“John, while you give Eddie the details, I need to see Emma, and say thank you.” She excused herself.
Sarah knocked on Emma’s door and Emma immediately opened it. “Missy, you’re home! I wasn’t sure what time you’d get here, or I’d have waited with Eddie.”
Sarah hugged her tightly. “Oh, Emma, the house looks wonderful. You’ll never know what a blessing you’ve given me. It’s beautiful, simply beautiful.”
Emma had lost her husband five years earlier, and, when Cecil explained that Sarah needed a housekeeper for her Anchorage home, she jumped at the chance to make a positive change in her life. The sixty-something woman, with an adventurous spirit, more gray hair than black, and just enough plumpness to stand her well in the cold, seemed to have fallen in love with her new home.
“Isn’t it? I’m so glad you like it. Eddie helped supervise the installers, and they did a wonderful job. He took me f
or a short drive for the best view. I especially like the lights in the trees. I know it’s early, but I wanted the first snowfall and the lights to brighten your homecoming. I know how hard you work.” Emma glowed, knowing her surprise had succeeded.
“You’re a saint. Thank you. You’ve no idea what a week I’ve had, and how seeing the house tonight just washed the stress away. I’m so glad you came to Alaska with me. Get some rest, and we’ll talk in the morning.” Sarah hugged her again before heading back upstairs to talk with John and Eddie.
Sarah could overhear John telling Eddie about the telephone call at the restaurant. She joined them in the kitchen.
“I think Quaid may be able to help us,” John said as she joined them.
“Before you call, I want to share something. I would’ve explained earlier, but I thought Eddie deserved to know, too,” Sarah seated herself across the table from them and sipped her coffee. “I don’t think you’ll find a sympathetic ear. Before I left Seattle, a police detective named O’Conner said the Anchorage police department had been informed I murdered Michael.”
“What?” Eddie blurted.
“Go on, Sarah,” John said evenly, while giving Eddie a look to silence him.
She got up and began warming cinnamon rolls, one of Emma’s specialties. While she worked, she explained Michael’s death. She served the delicacies and described the police investigation along with all the unanswered questions. She knew if she kept herself busy, she could maintain her composure and not fall victim to her emotions.
“Maybe the telephone calls and the valentine is retaliation for something someone thinks I got away with. Even though the official report recorded Michael’s death as an accident, O’Conner believes otherwise. He genuinely believes I killed Michael, and I have no proof that I didn’t.”
Sarah hesitated a moment, then took a deep breath. “He believes I killed Michael for his money. Since our marriage, the ‘gold digger’ label, and worse, have been a constant curse. I’ve no defense, no proof of innocence. To say I loved him… means nothing. According to the police and the public, love is just a word.” She stopped wiping down an already clean counter. “I’m sorry, I should’ve shared all this before, but guilt kept me silent.”
“Guilt? What are you guilty of?” Eddie asked.
“I bought the car. I killed my husband with the perfect birthday present, a Porsche.”
She kept her back to them, afraid to face their reaction. She recalled that day like it was yesterday, the bright red Porsche with the huge white bow. She’d had it delivered to the restaurant while they enjoyed lunch. She recalled fondly, but with heartache, the look on Michael’s face when he spotted it in the parking lot, and the serenade of Happy Birthday from the crowd that had followed them out of the restaurant. He acted like a teenager getting his first car, and, when he waved goodbye, the kiss he blew in her direction still brought hot tears.
Michael, oh Michael.
Eddie let out a low whistle.
Sarah jumped, back in the moment, and aware they were watching.
“Unbelievable. I had no idea.” Eddie immediately got up and went to her side, putting his hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Sarah, please don’t think that way, and you don’t have to worry about us. We know better. We know you.”
She gave him a weak smile.
“Thanks, you’ll never know what the two of you mean to me.” She squeezed his hand, glanced at John, and he nodded. “I understand the reason you want to call the police, and it’s your decision; like I said, I’ll follow your lead in handling this. I just wanted you to be aware of the roadblock you may run into when you mention my name. And, as I said earlier, my biggest fear is the publicity. My effort to honor Michael’s life with the foundation will become nothing more than a joke. You didn’t know Michael, but he built a multi-million dollar business resources and computer company from the ground up. The foundation will honor the entrepreneurial spirit. Creating an organization that provides startup businesses with funding and training. The Foundation was his idea, but one he never had the opportunity to see through. But if this story gets out the papers will have a field day, and my reputation will kill his dream.”
John rubbed the stubble on his face, while he took a minute to think. “I didn’t know things were so bad in Seattle. I knew about the gossip printed in the rags, but I have several friends on the force in Seattle, and the official report lists accident. Harassment—I had no idea, who was harassing you?”
Sarah settled into her chair again.
“Besides Detective Terry O’Conner, the press. They wouldn’t let go of the story, and everything I did made the papers. I had to go into seclusion at Cliff House. It was the only place where I found peace enough to grieve. I should’ve trusted you, but I just wanted to put the past behind me. Now it’ll be the top story, again, just because some idiot is sending me crude valentine threats.”
To stop the flood of emotion, she tore a cinnamon roll into bite-size pieces, but did not eat them.
“Your theory of revenge is possible. With your permission, I’ll conduct my own investigation into Michael’s death.” John covered her hands with his. “I give you my word. I’ll wait a little while longer, and, if we can put a stop to this nonsense before escalation, all the better. Detective Quaid’s a good man, and I doubt an overanxious cop will have much influence on him. Now quit worrying. We’ll do our best to find out what’s going on before I call. You forget how often I saved your hide in high school.”
Sarah smiled. “What about biology? Who saved who?”
“Then I guess it’s about time I repaid the favor.”
“Oh, John, you’ve done that ten times over already. Both of you, thank you.”
Sarah got her first good night’s sleep in over a week. With Eddie downstairs and Emma answering the telephone, she felt safe and protected. On Monday, she called Jackson to give him the week off for Thanksgiving. Reluctant to give up her safe haven for work, Sarah used the time to get out her easels and paint. The inspiration she discovered the evening she spent playing in the snow influenced her work despite the stress. But, instead of a heavenly choir of snow angels, she painted the horror haunting her dreams.
On Thanksgiving Day, Sarah had her closest friends over, and they enjoyed a wonderful feast, provided by Emma, and without one word about telephone calls or valentines. Yet, when the holiday ended, apprehension had her questioning her decisions.
Remaining in her comfortable rustic mansion and ignoring the world appealed to her, but she was done with grief and solitude. When Gerry asked her to take over the leadership, she knew to find happiness she had to find her place in the world. Michael would want her to fight. No tormentor would dictate her actions. With Eddie at her side and determination her goal, she went back to her apartment to face her nightmares and her stalker.
n December 13th, Sarah went Christmas shopping before the next round of meetings started. Each month, the directors met beginning on the fourteenth: usually for one day, sometimes two or more, depending on the agenda. The fourteenth gave all the departments enough time to sort out the results of the previous month and present them to the directors. This month, since December was the last meeting of the year, Sarah had invited all the board members, management teams, and their families for a Christmas celebration. More than one hundred people had agreed to attend, and the company put them up at the Sheraton Hotel. Tomorrow, after a short but quick meeting, the weekend would kick off with dinner at the Sheraton’s Top of the World Restaurant.
The festivities would include shopping trips, sightseeing tours, skiing, and a formal Christmas ball on the third evening. Jackson managed all the details because Sarah trusted his instincts and his ability to stick to a budget. For all his hard work, Jackson’s reward included a huge bonus and several paid weeks off for the holiday, but she could not resist buying him something personal. While purchasing a gift certificate in the men’s department of Nordstrom’s, she ran into Karen.
Karen Shay, Michael’s former secretary, had started with the Palmer Company early. She had great business insight and now managed the Anchorage branch of the Palmer Corporation. At thirty-five, the statuesque brunette with deep brown eyes and a curvaceous figure—she had the kind of looks that complemented her skills as a manager.
“It is that time of the year. Besides, the men in our lives would all still look like Cro-Magnon if we didn’t do the shopping for them.”
Sarah giggled at the thought. “You’re probably right. Are you seeing someone new?”
“No, not really, at least not seriously. There’s just too many to choose from. I don’t know why you ever left Alaska, with the ratio of ten to one. I’m surprised you weren’t snatched up at sixteen.”
“I led a sheltered life.” Sarah shrugged. She’d honestly never thought about it.
“You must have. Can I buy you lunch? The café here has a great menu. Plus, I need your advice on a bid I’m putting together.”
“Sure, I’m famished.”
Once they were seated and had ordered their meals, Sarah got down to business. “Is this the same client you and Gerry were working on last month?”
“Yes, it’s for the school district. They want new laptops in all their high schools and desktops in the middle schools. I’m working with Patricia Anders; she’s heading the committee and will make the recommendation to the school board.”
“Patricia Anders… the one who teaches computer classes at Bartlett High School?” Sarah asked.
“You know her?”
“We were roommates in college here in Anchorage, before I transferred to Washington.”
“So, it’s true what they say about a small world, isn’t it? I wonder why she didn’t mention she knew you. I mean, she knows your married name, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, but I’m sure she’s trying to avoid a conflict of interest; otherwise, she would’ve called me. I’ll honor her wishes and stay out of the negotiations until after you win the bid. So, tell me, what can I do for you?”