The trip from the airport to Steve and Heather's bookend condos passed with few words. Every time Heather cast her gaze in the rearview mirror, Bella either had her head dipped or was looking out the window. Puffy red eyes appeared on the single occasion she momentarily looked forward.
As for Steve, he took his cue from Bella’s silence and would wait until she was ready to talk. After all, she wasn't a murder suspect. Or was she? Heather's imagination kicked into high gear. She thought about the old saying regarding fools rushing in where wise men fear to tread, but took the plunge, anyway. "Was it a big fight?"
"Yeah."
"Is the relationship beyond repair?"
"It's over."
"Did you hit him?"
"Uh-huh."
"Good," said Steve. "I hope you broke his nose."
"It was only a slap, but it put him on his backside." The tears started again. "Can we wait until later to talk about it? I need a shower and a nap."
"A nap sounds good to me, too," said Steve. "I'll tell Max you need a bed buddy."
Heather thought about how her chubby Maine Coon cat had befriended Bella and helped her through a tough time. How long ago was it that the man who pretended to be Bella's adopted father was murdered while Bella looked on? Almost three years since Steve, with her help, solved the case and returned Bella to her birth parents. Since then, they'd been in regular contact with the girl who'd became a woman—and a drop-dead gorgeous one, at that.
The SUV eased into the garage. Steve made his way to his own condo while Bella slipped her long arms through the straps of a massive backpack and rolled a large suitcase into Heather's condo. She held the door open for Bella and said, "Nothing has changed since you were last here. Leave your door cracked if you want Max to join you. I'm going next door and work from Steve's kitchen table while you two take a siesta."
Bella nodded. Sobs came in quick bursts, accompanied by intermittent words. "Your ring. I just noticed it. I'm so happy for you and Jack."
Heather acknowledged her with a hug instead of words. As they separated, Heather said, "Take a long, steamy shower, and sleep. I'll tell you all about how Steve played matchmaker after you wake up."
This seemed to brighten Bella's mood a little. "I could use a good Steve story."
Heather went to the pet door in the dining room that allowed Max access to both condos. She bent over, pushed the plastic barrier open and hollered that she was coming over. After grabbing the satchel containing her laptop, she made the short trek next door and entered without knocking. A quick check proved that Steve wasn't in the kitchen, dining room, or living room. Muffled voices on the other side of his closed bedroom door told her he was likely checking in with Kate. They both claimed the successful author was his writing coach, but Heather hoped something more would come from the friendship.
She retreated down the hall and set up her workstation at the dining room table. It wasn't long before she had the name, address, and phone number of Five Star Employment Services. The company's website stressed that they dealt only with trustworthy domestic, lawn, and general maintenance employees. It also emphasized their specialization in meeting the needs of discerning families in the River Oaks area of Houston.
The initial phone call went as Heather expected. The receptionist, who acted more like a gate master, must have had strict instructions to screen all calls from prospective clients and employees looking to work for wealthy families in Houston. Since Heather wasn’t a resident of River Oaks, it took some convincing for the woman to agree to pass on her request for a return call from the company owner. What turned the tide was when Heather told the woman to do a Google search on McBlythe Investments and that she was interested in buying a home in River Oaks and wanted to discuss her potential staffing requirements.
Rapid-fire clicking of keyboard keys sounded. The woman came back with a more accommodating tone to her voice and said the owner would be out of the office until the next morning. "Ms. McBlythe, you can expect to receive a phone call from Mrs. Dubois by 9:00 a.m."
Heather smiled. That was one thing checked off her list, and it only took one tiny half-truth to get the ball rolling. She'd known about the River Oaks section of Houston and had already targeted homes there to purchase if her company found someone whose riches were turning to rags. Choice locations within the Hwy 610 loop of Houston commanded top dollar, especially if renovations were minimal.
Steve appeared over her laptop as she typed in notes. "Couldn't sleep?" she asked.
"Didn't try to. I've been on the phone with Kate. She's excited about Leo's case. Wants me to keep a journal if we get involved."
"I thought we were involved already. I have an appointment to speak with the owner of Five Star Employment Services in the morning."
"We don't have a client."
Heather shook her head. "I've worked with you long enough to know some of our cases start out with no client. Then, everything hits the fan and we're up to our necks in a murder. On this one, we already know it's a murder. Besides, this involves Leo, who has a partner with no experience in homicides. I know you won't stay out of it."
A youthful mischievous smirk pulled up the corner of Steve's mouth. "I'm too predictable."
Steve asked if she'd like a cup of coffee. After her positive response, he set about preparing a full pot. This signaled the beginning of a full evening with the potential to stretch into the night doing background checks on members of both families. Also, they'd need to order the obligatory pizza for Bella.
Heather corralled her wandering thoughts when Steve asked, "Have you talked to Jack since we've been home?"
She shook her head in disgust. "Why is it you're always having to remind me to call him?"
No answer, so she sent her fiancé a text.
Steve felt the top of the coffee maker, lifted the flap, and drizzled in water. He'd already measured the coffee. “You don’t call Jack because you focus intently on tasks. It's the thing that makes you such a successful businesswoman and a good detective. Maggie used to hit me over the head with a rolled-up newspaper when she talked to me and I ignored her."
"He may be busy with a client. I’ll get an answer to my text when he gets a chance.”
Fortified with coffee, the two private detectives spent the rest of the afternoon with headphones on, doing computer searches, making phone calls to people who knew the family members, and taking copious notes. Heather typed hers out and put them in neat files in her computer. Steve did the same, except he dictated his notes.
By five-thirty, Steve had a decent start on background for Sid and Howard Green, and the deceased, Lucy Green. Heather concentrated on the deceased patriarch of the Webber clan, Peter. She then moved on to Karl and Ingrid Schmidt-Webber. She also wondered about the woman who found Lucy Green's lifeless body, Sylvia Lopez. Curiosity about how the day went at the Green household after she and Steve left got the better of her. She looked in her notes and found Sylvia's phone number.
"Hello, Sylvia?"
"Yes. Who’s calling?"
"This is Heather McBlythe. I was checking on you to see if you're all right."
"To tell the truth, Ms. McBlythe, I'm not doing very good. Mr. Howard fired me."
"I'm so sorry," said Heather. "Did he give any reason?"
Her voice caught when she spoke. "He said I talked too much to you and the police. He was furious."
"Some people strike out at others when their spouse dies."
She let out a huff. "You don't know Mr. Howard. He wasn't upset about his wife as much as he was mad at your partner, Mr. Smiley."
Heather looked at Steve but his headphones were over his ears so she didn't interrupt him.
"What did he say about Mr. Smiley?"
"Like I said, he blamed me for talking to you and thinks Mr. Smiley accused him of killing Miss Lucy."
Heather asked, "Would you be willing to meet me tomorrow so we can discuss this in greater detail? I'll make it worth your time."
"The only thing I need to do tomorrow is go talk to Mrs. Dubois at the employment agency. I hope she can find another job for me."
Heather always prided herself on being a quick thinker. "It so happens, I'm supposed to hear from Mrs. Dubois the first thing in the morning. I'll put in a good word for you if you want me to."
"That would be wonderful, but I don't know if she'll listen. She's almost as strict as Ingrid Webber."
“I'll call you tomorrow after I speak with her." She paused. “I feel it's at least partly my fault you lost your job. I’d like to help you over the hump before you get a new job. How much were you making a month working for the Green family?”
Sylvia hesitated, then reluctantly spoke a figure that seemed in line for a full-time maid in that area of Houston.
Heather responded with, “Let's meet tomorrow morning for breakfast and I'll bring you a check for a month's pay. You name the place.”
“I don’t… I don’t know what to say, Ms. McBlythe.”
“I believe you’re a good employee, Sylvia and I’m in a position to help you. Now, where do you want to meet for breakfast?”
With tomorrow's meeting planned and her phone call disconnected, Heather heard the kitty door slap shut. “Hello, Max. Is Bella awake?”
Meow.
“Are you ready for your dinner?”
Meow.
As Heather scooped cat food from a can, Bella hollered through the pet portal. “I'm coming over.”
Steve hollered back, “Good. I'm ready to order pizza.”
Bella came in looking like a Scandinavian princess with her silvery-white hair braided into a waist-length rope. Heather always thought of Rapunzel when Bella braided her hair. Unlike the fairy tale character, Bella wore a cropped T-shirt and shorts that showed off long, lean, tanned legs. No wonder she was chosen to host a fishing show where she showed off her skills catching and releasing exotic tropical fish. She roamed the Caribbean, and sometimes the U.S., fishing with celebrities and dazzling the audience with her skill and smile.
Yet, all was not well with the young princess today and it would be up to Heather and Steve to put her back on track.
Steve started off with, "Do you want your usual? A meat lovers with double cheese?"
"I suppose," she said in a forlorn voice.
"Get me a large salad," said Heather.
Steve nodded. "That's two large meat lovers with extra cheese, two regular salads and one large salad. Any bread-sticks?"
Both women gave a negative reply. Steve phoned in the order and closed his laptop. Heather motioned for Bella to take Steve's computer and headphones to his bedroom as she cleared her workplace and set her valise by the front door.
When Bella returned, he asked, "Did you and Max have a good nap?"
"It was the first decent sleep I've had all week. Max knows how to cuddle."
"I missed my nap, but I'll make up for it tonight." He rose from his chair. "We have at least thirty minutes to kill. Let's go to the living room.”
Seven minutes of catching up with small talk followed, mainly about Bella's parents and how much Steve wanted to return to their ocean-side hotel. Heather agreed that a sun-drenched trip to the Virgin Islands sounded better than staying in the drizzle of late December north of Houston. Then came the pause that signaled the conversation would change.
Steve prompted Bella, "Are you ready to tell us what happened?"
She folded her hands together on her lap. "No, but it has to be done. I'm sure you've heard the story a thousand times, but I never thought it would happen to me. How could I not see it? He's tall, dark, and has dreamy brown eyes. He was the perfect gentleman with me. Well, at least he started off that way. About a month ago he got pushy, if you know what I mean."
"I certainly do," said Heather. “Isn't he a pilot?"
"Yeah," said Bella. "Remind me to never fall for another one of those. I thought it was sailors who had a girl in every port. It seems pilots in the Caribbean have a girl on every island."
"Ouch," said Heather. "How did you find out?"
Bella dipped her head. "You two may not realize this, but you're my heroes. I watched how you investigated the murder of the man who said he was my adopted father. Ever since then, I've read hundreds of detective stories, explored online courses, and even wanted to be a private investigator myself. Of course, my television show and modeling kept me super busy, but that’s changed now."
Steve held up his hand as a stop sign. "This is news to me. What's changed?"
"The production company insisted I wear bikinis in almost every shot. They wanted an edgier show than I was comfortable with. Standing mostly naked in the tropical sun all day is a good way to ruin your skin. Everything came to a head when the producer arrived on the island to meet with me and my dad. Things got ugly and Dad threw him out of the hotel. Dad's my hero, too."
"Good for him," said Heather.
"I'll second that," said Steve. "Did losing your television gig happen before you found out your prince wasn't so charming?"
"Dad told the producer to take a hike three weeks ago. I should have called you."
Steve waved off her last comment, and summarized her present situation. "Three weeks ago, you lost your job. When did your love life fall apart?"
"Four days ago." Bella cast her gaze to Heather and then dipped her head. "I put into practice some things I learned about being a detective and paid one of the hotel maids to help me. She flew to three of the islands where the creep would stay overnight. At each island, he met a different woman for dinner followed by a night in his hotel room."
"He doesn't deserve you," said Heather as she clenched her fists.
"What made you suspect him?" asked Steve.
"Perfume. Like most men, he hates to wash clothes, but he came home with wet shirts. I saw them draped over the shower bar after one of his trips. I guess he thought there was less chance of the perfume staying in the fabric if he rinsed them out before he came home."
Steve chuckled.
"It's not funny!" snapped Bella.
"I'm not laughing at you, sweetheart. I find the coincidence funny. This morning I smelled perfume on a murder suspect that didn't match his wife's."
Bella's eyes opened wide. "A murder case? How cool. Maybe I really could become a private eye. Can you use me? I'll work for free."
Steve cleared his throat. Heather wondered if he'd unintentionally encouraged her too much. As usual, Steve's response took her by surprise. "You can help me by doing background checks. I'll teach you how."
"Are you sure about this?" asked Heather.
Steve flipped his hand, dismissing her protest. His next words went to Bella. "No field work. No interviews. Only what you can find on the internet with Heather or me supervising."
Bella's next words came out sounding more like her normal upbeat self. "It's a start. I'll be doing stakeouts before you know it."