Charlotte’s condo presented itself as clean, but not meticulously so. A glass sat on the kitchen counter half filled with water. I found another in the living room. It was empty. A pair of heeled shoes lounged on the floor in front of the sofa. One had tipped over on its side. Everywhere I looked I saw signs of life, like her apartment had become a piece of history frozen in time. A part of me felt like a trespasser who was afraid Charlotte would come walking in, wondering what I was doing there.
In the bathroom, a soap dish displayed the words SOAP in giant black letters across the front of the dish, which matched the wastebasket which read TRASH. It seemed absurd and left me wondering if her toothbrush was labeled too.
In one of the two bedrooms, I observed an ornate, brown desk reminiscent of Henry VIII’s era. A laptop rested on top. I opened it and therein found my first impediment: I didn’t know the password. A quick call to Audrey gave me the answer I needed.
“Try Charlie,” she said.
“Charlie?”
“It was a nickname my dad gave Charlotte as a kid.”
It worked.
I started with her Internet files, and the six hundred unread emails junking up her inbox. Most were real-estate related. I ran an inbox search on Parker, but it turned up nothing. On the days leading up to the murder, most of the emails in her sent folder contained responses to real estate questions and follow up with clients. I also found a monthly meeting she had with the real estate board and a couple of random emails to friends, but nothing out of the ordinary.
The top drawer of Charlotte’s desk contained the usual: a stapler, paperclips, pens, sticky notes, a box of thank-you cards, and markers. I tugged on the second drawer, but it wouldn’t budge. And then I saw it: a sunken-in hole on the side of the desk about the size of a dime, just big enough for a tiny key to fit through.
I put myself in Charlotte’s place; if I needed to hide a key, where would I hide it? I felt along the ridges of all the doors but it wasn’t there. I looked through drawers and jewelry boxes, pill boxes and cups, all to no avail. Maybe it wasn’t in the condo at all. On the other hand, if she accessed the drawer often enough, the key would need to be somewhere convenient. I needed to look again.
I returned to the desk and opened the top drawer once more. I pulled out the box of thank-you cards and shook it. It rattled. I opened the box, but I didn’t see a key. I dug through the cards and the envelopes, and there at the bottom was a shiny silver piece of metal, which fit into the hole, and when I turned it, the drawer popped open. Inside were two items: a notebook and a single file folder. I flipped the notebook open. There on the first page scrawled on a Post-it note were three names:
DANIELA LUCIANA
ZOEY KENDRICK
KRISTIN ???
Charlotte had known about Parker’s other women, but for how long?
On the opposite side of the page was a paperclip with a business card attached. It read, Marc Benjamin, PI. Beneath the card was a small stack of photos. On the first, Parker’s lips were pressed against Daniela’s. Another was of Zoey Kendrick and had been taken through a sheer window. From the waist up, she didn’t have a stitch of clothing on as she flaunted her naughty bits for the entire world to see. A third photo showed Parker in a tight embrace with a brunette. Kristin maybe?
I pulled out the second item in the desk, a file folder. It included an arrangement of real estate transactions for the past year all arranged in chronological order. It just looked like an organized grouping of her real estate transactions for the year.
I glanced up at the wall clock in the hall. Maddie would arrive at any moment. Chief Sheppard expected us in fifteen minutes. I shut Charlotte’s computer down, grabbed the contents of the locked drawer and turned off all the lights inside the house. Charlotte’s porch light was out so I relied on the soft glow of the moon to lock the front door.
A faint aroma in the air reminded me of sugar cookies, and I figured one of the neighbors must be baking. A wave of hot and then cold air brushed across my neck. I looked over my shoulder and caught a glimpse of a large crystal-like object hurdling toward me. I ducked, but not in time. My head burned and something wet and runny slid down my neck. I touched it. Blood! And then my legs caved in beneath me, and everything went black.