Sam wasn’t sure if she was making any headway. She could be wrong about Donna but she doubted it. The word destiny had not been her imagination when she had touched her purse. It was as clear then as the day she saw it displayed on Marti’s phone.
She watched as the Ford Taurus drove out of the parking lot. It would have been just her luck to run into the two, and Jake wouldn’t have rested until he dragged every suspicion out of her. Until she had more proof, she wasn’t ready to tie any of the deaths into one neat package.
Once she was sure Jake and Frank were out of sight, Sam made her way down the aisle to the executive offices. Connor Revere spared little expense in building the club house. Men with that kind of money usually had women draping themselves at their feet. Although she didn’t think Marti would have cheated on Forrest, there still had to be some connection between Marti and Donna. If they didn’t work together, maybe they were in the same yoga class, or met on a walking trail. Forrest claimed Marti wasn’t the type to hang out in bars, especially with a baby. But perhaps Forrest wasn’t aware of everything about his wife prior to their marriage.
Angry voices came from the last office. Sam slowed her approach in order to eavesdrop.
“I told you to take care of it. How the hell is that taking care of it?”
“Watch your tone with me, Connor. I have been around the block a time or two.”
Sam thought the second voice sounded canned, maybe from a speaker phone. And it did sound familiar.
“Maybe in the business world but definitely not in your present position. It appears you need a little training on how things are done around this town.”
Sam heard a loud pound, then silence. Connor must have hung up on someone. She waited several seconds then knocked on the open door. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” She let her eyes dance around the room to give the impression she expected to see someone else in the office.
Connor’s mask of anger quickly dropped and he smiled as his gaze drifted down her body. He rose from his desk. “Not at all. Can I help you?”
Sam introduced herself and reached across the desk to shake his hand. She pulled the photo of Marti from her purse. “Do you recognize this woman?”
Connor Revere gave the photo a passing glance and shook his head. “I don’t think so. Who is she?”
“She might have known Donna Oberweiss.”
His eyes took on a hardened glare as he sank back into his chair. Whatever playboy image he attempted to display quickly dissolved. “Sorry, I don’t follow. I didn’t know the woman whose body was found on the golf course so I don’t see how I would know this woman. Who is she?”
“She died about a couple months ago.”
“And this should concern me how?”
Sam pulled out a chair and sat down. “Sorry, I probably should have started with this.” She handed him her business card.
He studied the business card with a sigh. “It’s not enough I have Homicide turning my life upside down, now I have a private consultant. Mayor Schuler never told me he had an underground investigative unit.”
“I’m very above ground but it was Marti Johnson’s husband who hired me.”
“And how did you come to connect the two deaths?”
This was where it usually got sticky. Abby preferred Sam not advertise her gift. In her younger days, Sam liked to broadcast it just to see everyone’s reaction. But she was learning to play her cards closer to the vest.
“Let’s just say I have a hunch.”
“A hunch.” Revere’s gaze traveled to her chest and on up to the third earring of beads and feathers brushing against her shoulder, finally resting on her eyes. Sam’s attention was drawn to the framed photograph on the back credenza. “Your wife?”
Revere jerked behind him with a look of a man caught doing something illicit. “Yes.”
“She’s beautiful. I often wonder why a man who appears to have everything would risk it all by continually having affairs.”
If his face got any redder, Sam would have to douse him with a fire hose. Revere flung Sam’s business card and Marti’s photo back at her. “I think we are done here, Miss Casey. I don’t know either of these ladies and anything you think you know about me is none of your damn business. I think you know your way out.”
<><>
It was no secret in Sam’s mind why she was summoned to the emperor’s castle. She could hear the screaming even while riding the elevator to the second floor. It drowned out the easy listening music droning through the speakers. The mirrored walls glistened. Exactly how long would mirrored walls in the elevator last at the Sixth Precinct?
The doors opened and she stepped out onto glistening oak flooring. The last time she was here the floors were carpeted. Chief Dennis Murphy must have made sure he blew through his remaining budget before the new mayor took office.
Ruth, Murphy’s secretary, pressed her lips together and gave a light shake of her head. The door to Murphy’s office was open, something the mayor must have wanted so the entire staff could hear his rant. An assistant, who looked college-age, was busy cutting out newspaper articles, probably for Murphy’s scrapbook. An intern was standing at the copier pretending to examine something that had spewed off the printer. Sam guessed she didn’t want to actually use the printer and miss overhearing the argument.
“I don’t give a damn what the City Council says. I want that bitch fired.”
Sam guessed that wonderful voice belonged to Mayor Jefferson-not-Jeffrey Schuler, the same voice she had heard streaming from Connor Revere’s speaker phone. And Sam was sure she was the subject of the conversation.
“How dare she intimidate close friends.”
“Contributors,” Sam mouthed for Ruth’s benefit. Ruth tried to hide her smile. Since the day Schuler took office he had made few friends among the hired help. Rumor had it he had already lost two secretaries. He was demanding, egotistical, and already campaigning for re-election. His current term was only to fill the remaining term of the ailing Mayor Jenkins.
Ruth was a no-nonsense protector of her boss. Sam was surprised Murphy didn’t have a cover girl for a secretary. Instead he chose brains over beauty and loyalty over a fashion plate. Ruth wore sensible shoes, comfortable clothes, and very little makeup. Because Murphy and Sam had always displayed a volatile relationship, Ruth had never been too friendly toward Sam, until Sam saved his life.
“Do it now. Have I made myself clear?” Schuler straightened and pulled back, the haughty look having been a practiced move since winning the election. Murphy invaded Schuler’s personal space, blinking slowly. Schuler was boring him. The mayor took the hint and stormed out of Murphy’s office.
Sam smiled like a cat who had just cornered its prey. The comb-over Schuler had eliminated during the campaign was slowly growing back. And although he had trimmed down for campaign photos, he was eating at the best restaurants lately and developing a paunch. Schuler stopped abruptly and jabbed a thick finger in the air. “Your days are numbered, little lady. You obviously don’t know how things work around here.”
“SAM!” Murphy bellowed from his doorway. “Get in here. What the hell possessed you to badger Collin Revere?” Murphy closed the door behind her but kept up his tirade.
Sam sighed and took a seat in front of the desk while Murphy continued his rant. “I heard the elevator doors close,” Sam said.
“Good. I was beginning to get a scratchy throat,” Murphy said in a normal tone. “What an ass.”
“Another election year is coming up.”
“No thanks. Been there, done that.” He poured two cups of coffee from the carafe on his desk and slid one across the desk toward Sam.”
Sam and Murphy had a love-hate relationship, fueled by the unfortunate close association Sam had with Murphy’s predecessor. Connelley had better connections to snag the police chief job first and had used his goddaughter to dig up dirt on his competition. But mummified remains found in an aging hotel turned out to be Gina Barlucci, a former girlfriend of Murphy’s from over thirty years ago. He had been a suspect in her murder until Sam found the real killer.
The case exposed a different side of Dennis Murphy. Although his animosity toward Chief Connelley had been real, as well as his distrust of Sam who had been her godfather’s main “spy,” they had come to a mutual understanding and admiration when Murphy realized Sam was the only one who could clear him of murder charges.
Murphy and Sam also had a mutual disdain for Jefferson Schuler. He was clever, managing to hide all of his suspected illegal transactions. No one was better than Murphy in playing the game. For now, Schuler was careful but it was just a matter of time.
“So you don’t think the two cases are connected?”
“Oh no, I do think they are,” Sam replied. “I’m just not sure yet how Connor Revere is connected. What I would like to do is look into some of our past suicide cases, to see if they are connected to Marti’s.”
“Is this one of your hunches?”
“You could say that.”
They sipped their coffee for a few minutes until Murphy caught Sam looking at a picture of Murphy with his wife and daughter. “Things are getting better. Donna and our daughter actually went to Florida to visit Rafe and his Aunt Sonya.”
“How is Rafe doing?” During the previous case, Murphy had learned that he had a son. Rafe was a former cop himself but now ran a successful business locating missing people. One of the missing cases had been his mother. The search brought him to Chasen Heights and involved him in the case of the body found at the Embers Hotel. Posing as a reporter, Rafe had investigated Murphy as a possible suspect. Murphy hadn’t known that Rafe was his son.
“Really good. Actually Rafe and Deanna clicked. She is a whiz at computers and Rafe would rather be on the road chasing down leads so he is hiring her to handle his web site. She’s going to move down there next month. She’ll be living with him and his aunt. I understand they have a fabulous mansion.”
“He hasn’t asked to see you?”
“We’re taking it slow. I’m sure it was difficult for him to hire Deanna. Although he appreciated her talents, he also wanted to make sure she wasn’t some spy I was sending down there to keep tabs on him. I was thinking of helping Deanna with her move.”
“You should. I think he realizes now that you were as much kept in the dark about him as he was of you. Take a list of missing persons from our database.”
He looked around the office as if there were stacks of work to be done. Actually, Murphy was even neater than Jake. Whatever working files he had must be hidden in his credenza. “It would be hard to get away. Meetings, press conferences.” He let his voice drop, aware he wasn’t even doing a good job of convincing himself.
“All those can be rescheduled. When’s the last time you took off?”
“When I was in the hospital. I doubt you could have forgotten since you were there, too.”
“Perfect excuse. You had a relapse and need more time off, something the Florida sun could cure.”
He flicked a hand through the air, cutting off further discussion of the topic. “I would have Ruth set you up in an empty office to go through cases in the computer but someone would snitch to Schuler. I think your best bet is to go down to Archives. It’s quieter there and people won’t be looking over your shoulder like they would at the Sixth.”
“Schuler has spies at the Sixth?”
“There are ass-kissers everywhere.” A whisper of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Course, I have my spies watching his spies.”
Sam’s coffee cup hovered inches from her mouth. “You have spies at the Sixth?” Then she gave that thought a couple seconds. “Of course you do. Who are they?”
Few played the political game better than Murphy. He was even better than former Police Chief Don Connelley had ever been on his best day. Murphy pulled on the sleeves of his four figure suit. His eyes were cold and all business. He could turn off the charm faster than a debutante on a disastrous blind date. “Now why would I want to reveal their names?”
“More than one,” Sam deduced. “Or do you have the entire floor wired for sound and video?”
Murphy stood, ending their friendly repartee. “Go to work.” He walked to the door, opened it while yelling, “This is your last warning.”
Sam rolled her eyes and whispered, “You only wish.”
“Shall I call Security, Chief?” Ruth asked.
“No need. I’m personally escorting her out of the building.” As though on command, the elevator doors opened. Once the doors closed Murphy hammered the button for the basement, the bowels of the building where the archived files were kept.
“Don’t you get tired of all the acting?” Sam asked.
“Who says I’m acting?”