CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Case didn’t reply, and I could tell he was frustrated with Donald’s evasive answers. I waited for someone to speak, my fingers poised over the iPad. Clearly, this interview wasn’t going to be easy. Abby finally answered, and I was once again relieved to have her experience to guide us.
“We know about the bullying,” Abby told him. “We know about the feud between Hope and Carly. We know that Hope smashed Carly’s windshield and Ed Louvain covered it up.”
Donald thrust his chin forward. “What do you know about the bullying?”
“We’ve heard conflicting stories,” Abby answered vaguely.
Donald looked at her, his chilly gaze intensifying. “I’m sure you did, no doubt from Hope, who isn’t the most reliable of sources, by the way.” He reached deep into his front pocket and pulled out a cell phone. After pressing a few buttons with pudgy fingers, he turned the smudged screen our way. “This is what that Louvain kid did to my boy.”
He thumbed through several photographs, each one worse than the last. Donald’s son had a bruised cheek, a fat, bloody lip, and the last picture showed a deep purple circle under his eye. The pictures were heartbreaking. I could see a sheen of tears in the boy’s eyes.
“This is not bullying,” Donald said, tapping the last photo. “This is aggravated assault.”
“What does that have to do with Carly’s death?” Case asked.
Donald leaned back, taking his cell phone with him. “Why don’t you tell me that, hotshot? Why don’t you explain to me why you’re looking at me as a suspect when, in fact, you need me to help solve the crime? Look at you. There’s three of you. And you come in here saying that I’m a suspect because I brought Carly flowers? Come on. Three private detectives, and this is the best you’ve got?”
“We have reason to believe you were trying to hide your identity that night,” Abby said. “Why?”
“Yeah, of course I was hiding my identity. Nobody wanted to see me there. Not the mayor, after what he’s been saying about me; not Hope, for obvious reasons; and least of all not Carly, after what she did to me. So, big deal, I hid my identity. It wasn’t like I was stalking her.”
“But you were backstage before the show,” Abby told him. “It sounds exactly like you were stalking her.”
“Yeah, I was backstage long enough to get kicked out. What do you suppose I did to Carly in that short amount of time? With all three of you detective geniuses, you must have some sort of theory. Did I poison the flowers? Did I slip something to her? Secretly inject her with a syringe? In a crowded room, how am I supposed to have poisoned my wife? Check with Hope. She saw me talking to Carly. I never laid a hand on her.”
I quickly typed a message into my notes about Donald’s answer. Was he being coy? Was he trying to fool us, or did he really not know how Carly was poisoned?
“You still haven’t told us why it was so important to talk to your ex-wife that night,” Abby said.
Donald tapped his phone. “That’s why,” he insisted. “Those pictures are from the day of the fashion show. My kid was getting the crap beat out of him, and Carly wasn’t doing a damn thing about it.”
Abby interrupted his rant. “She got Chip Louvain expelled from school. That’s something.”
He laughed at her, but his tone was hostile. “That just made things worse. And you know what she told our son to do about it? She told him to fight back. That was her answer. That was Carly. She was a fighter. And guess where that got her? I wanted to keep my kid safe. She didn’t deserve custody of him. She didn’t even want it. She just wanted another win under her belt.”
“And now you have custody of him,” Case said. “Just what you wanted.”
“Yes, I do. And I thank God for that. It’s a tragedy what happened to Carly, but at least one good thing came out of it. I have my boy, and I have these photos, and we’re going to make Ed and Hope and that horrible kid of theirs pay for what they’ve done.”
“What are you going to do?” Case asked.
“Take them to court,” Donald replied. “We have proof now. No one’s going to cover up this crime. No one hurts my boy. Not while I’m around.”
It seemed as though Donald’s anger had worn off after getting his thoughts out. He stood up and looked out the window again. The window faced Lake Michigan, and the rhythmic lapping of the waves on the rocky shore seemed to calm him down.
He continued to stare out the window. “Carly tried to turn my son against me, you know. Told him he couldn’t see me anymore.”
“That must have really angered you,” I said.
Donald turned to smile at me. “You know what he did? My boy? He came to see me anyway. He asked for my help, and I told him not to fight back. I told him to get pictures, videos, anything we could use, and that’s exactly what he did.”
“How does this relate to Carly’s death?” Case asked.
Donald seemed irritated by the question. “You tell me.”
Case glared at him. “Answer the question.”
“Okay, private eye,” Donald told him, “listen closely. Carly got the Louvain kid expelled, and that made things worse. My boy came to me for help. Now, what am I supposed to do when Carly won’t talk to me? I wanted to show her the pictures. I wanted her to take this seriously, but she was more interested in fighting with Hope than helping my boy. So I guess she got what she deserved.”
As I typed out his shocking response, Case tried his hand at asking Donald another question. “Are you saying Hope was the one who poisoned Carly?”
Donald shrugged his shoulders. “All I’m saying is that you don’t mess with her kid and get away with it. Anyway, now you understand why I was at the fashion show. That was your initial question, wasn’t it, hotshot?”
Case tensed the muscles in his jaw, breathing deeply and trying his best not to look aggravated. I put my hand on his, hoping to calm him down.
“Why did you leave through the backstage door?” Abby asked, pressing on.
“I didn’t leave through the back,” he told her. “I was kicked out, thrown out by that criminal Charles has working for him. Ben Logan, I think his name is.”
“Do you know him?” Abby asked.
“Yeah, I fired him,” Donald said. “He used to work security at the casino. That was years ago. Anyway, money started going missing from the vault. A little bit at first, then it escalated.”
“Was Logan stealing money?” Case asked.
“No, if you can believe it, Logan caught the guy stealing money. And you know what he did? He blackmailed the thief and took the money for himself.”
“Was he arrested?”
“You bet he was. I took him to court, got my money back. He spent a few years in prison. But guess who got him out early? Charles Sloan. The man who now claims that I’m sending him threatening letters. They’re both criminals, as far as I’m concerned. If you need a fourth partner in this detective gig, let me know, because I’d be turning the screws on both those guys. If you want real suspects, go find that security guard and the man who hired him.”
My fingers typed with purpose as this new information came out. Charles had helped his bodyguard get out of jail.
“Carly worked closely with Charles Sloan,” Case said. “Why would he want to kill her?”
Donald gave Case a sly smile. “I didn’t say he killed her. I think he had his henchman do it instead.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Case said. “Why would he want her dead?”
“That wasn’t your question,” Donald fired back with a smirk.
I looked up from my keypad to see Case’s jaw twitching.
“I’ll give you this one for free because maybe you didn’t know Carly too well.” Donald sat back again. “Carly wasn’t a politician. She was a businesswoman. She was the one who convinced me to go ahead with the casino project, and Charles was the one who shut it down.”
More new information. I couldn’t be sure that Donald was telling the truth, but from what we’d already learned about Carly, it seemed possible. I typed it in.
“Now, you tell me,” Donald continued, “why would she go work for him? And more importantly, why would Charles hire her?”
“You tell us,” Case said. “No more beating around the bush.”
“Okay, then,” Donald said. “My guess is that Carly told him the casino project was my idea, and that I was the one sending him threats. She made Charles believe that I was the enemy.”
“So, you didn’t want to build the new casino?” Abby asked.
“I wasn’t against it,” he answered. “But I wasn’t interested in finding additional investors. Too much work. This little riverboat makes me some good money, just not enough to fund the kind of casino Carly wanted to build. She said she was going to take care of all that, so I let her. Then Charles blocked the deal, and a few months later Carly left me and started working for him.”
“So, what was Carly up to?” Abby asked. “You clearly know more than you’re letting on.”
Donald smiled and touched his temple. “Carly was clever. Knowing her, she had a plan. You figure that out, and you’ll catch her killer. That’s what I told Detective Walters, but he doesn’t care.”
“What was Carly’s plan?” Abby asked again.
“I don’t know.” Donald tapped his fingers on the table. “Ask Charles, who I’m sure is breathing down the detective’s neck, wanting him to close the case quickly. That’s why the redhead is in trouble. She’s an easy target.”
“Are you saying Carly is responsible for getting herself killed?” Case asked.
Donald gave an eerily unsympathetic look. “Maybe.”
“It’s easy to blame Carly now that she can’t defend herself,” Case said.
Donald sat forward and folded his hands on the tabletop. “It’s easy for you to pin the murder on me, but here I am, free as a bird. No charges were ever brought against me. What does that tell you?”
“That you have enough money to hire a good lawyer,” Case answered.
“Several lawyers, actually, and thank God for that, too. So let me say it again. Figure out what Carly was up to, whom it involved, and you’ll solve your case.”
Case rubbed his forehead, clearly still irritated. “Do you know anything about a company called CB Development Company?”
“Never heard of it.”
“How about the Unified Construction Company?”
“Yeah,” Donald replied. “That’s the name of the outfit that was going to build the casino.”
I wrote it down. Unified Construction was also contracted for the Samson Mall project that the mayor had shut down.
“Do you know why Carly would’ve received mail from Unified?” Case asked.
Donald rubbed his jaw. “When was this?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“A few weeks ago?” he asked in surprise. “There you go. Now you’re on to something. Why would they be communicating with Carly? Charles shut down our plans for the casino months ago.”
Donald checked his watch and then stood. “Listen, I want you to find Carly’s killer. I really do. Someone had the nerve to murder her in broad daylight, and that person should be put away for life. I’m rooting for you. Really.” He walked to the door and held it open for us, stopping the interview without saying another word.
Case looked at me. “I guess that’s it. Is there anything we missed?”
I looked over the notes and shook my head. “We got more than we asked for.”
“Abby?” Case asked.
She stood. “I think we’re done for now.”
Donald handed Case his business card. “Next time, hotshot, give me a call first.”
“I tried calling—many times,” Case said.
“Well, next time, I’ll answer.”
As we walked out, Donald added, “You might not be the brightest detectives, but hey, at least you’re trying.”
* * *
“I wanted to punch him in the mouth,” Case said as we exited the noisy riverboat into the muggy night. “I swear he was trying to get my goat.”
“I think it worked,” I joked. “But at least Donald seemed to be truthful.”
Case shook his head, still clearly flustered. “I don’t trust him.”
“Let’s focus on what can be verified,” Abby said. “We know for certain that Donald was questioned by detectives and released. That was verified by Detective Walters himself.”
“We also know that Donald’s son was attacked on the day Carly was killed,” I said as we wound our way through rows of cars. “The photos were timestamped.”
“Yes,” Abby agreed. “Which gives validity to his reason for being at the fashion show. And I can check with the PTA and the school board, try to dig up some proof that Carly had Hope’s son expelled.”
“He gave us some important information, too,” I said, “such as verifying that Hope Louvain was off-the-wall when it came to her son. And that she had seen Donald talking to Carly, which meant she could’ve entered Carly’s dressing room while they were occupied.”
“Another thing,” Case said, “is that Donald’s information coincides with what Rosemary Dalsaurus told us about Carly and her involvement with Unified Construction, which would suggest that Carly was confident the casino project would proceed regardless of what the mayor’s policy was.”
“Donald said Carly had a plan,” I added. “If Carly’s plan was to circumvent Mayor Sloan and build her casino, would that be a strong enough motive to kill her?”
“He is promising to keep Sequoia small,” Case said. “So, let me float the theory Donald mentioned, that the security guard was in on the murder. He was backstage before the show. He could’ve had access to Carly’s dressing room before she arrived.”
“It’s a possibility,” Abby remarked. “I just don’t see the mayor putting that much trust in a criminal.”
“Don’t forget, the mayor got Logan released from prison,” I said. “Maybe it’s a debt repaid.”
“I still think Hope has the more realistic motive,” Abby said. “And she had better access to Carly’s dressing room. Plus, Hope’s husband is the chief of police, with a reputation of covering up his wife’s crimes.”
“If anyone had better access to Carly’s dressing room, it was Eleni Sloan,” I said. “We can’t forget about her.”
Case lifted the keys from his pocket and unlocked the doors as we approached his Jeep. “It sounds like the only thing we can all agree on is that Donald is the killer.”
I smacked him playfully. “We can agree to disagree.”
“I wish we knew what kind of poison was used,” Abby said. “That could help us narrow it down even further. It would have to be someone who knew what kind of poison is invisible and tasteless.”
“My friend on the force is trying to get the toxicology report for us,” I told Abby. “But so far, he hasn’t had any luck. I’ll try reaching out to Bob Maguire again.”
Abby huffed in frustration.
I opened the door so she could squeeze into the back seat. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not you, Athena,” she said. “We just have a whole list of suspects, and we’re running out of time. Jillian is going to be arraigned soon. Her trial could start as early as next week.”
“I understand,” I told her. “I’ll find a way to get that toxicology report. I promise.”
“In the meantime,” Abby said, “what else did you learn from Rosemary today?”
I sat down and buckled myself in tight. “Rosemary overheard Carly threatening Charles,” I told her. “If they were having an affair, she could’ve been holding it over his head, threatening to expose him if he didn’t let her proceed with the project.”
“That changes things,” Abby said. “That gives Charles a very strong motive.”
“And to further the point,” I added, “Rosemary also said she saw no real chemistry between the two and, in fact, doesn’t think Carly was attracted to Mayor Sloan at all.”
Case reversed out of his parking spot and drove us out of the lot. “She was blackmailing him.”
“Wait a minute,” Abby said, leaning between the seats. “Say that again about Carly not being attracted to the mayor.”
“Rosemary said there was no chemistry between the two,” I told her.
“That’s it!” Abby said. “Chemistry! We haven’t considered the chemistry angle.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“Who would know more about poisonous chemicals than a chemist?” Abby asked. “Or a chemistry teacher?”
I looked at Abby through the rearview mirror. “Hope Louvain.”