One by one Steve listed the names of the suspects. He placed his hand on the first name and said, “Tabby Yancy. A golden girl, now with pots of gold under her control. She could go back to Hollywood and buy her way into stardom if she wanted to. You suspect her faith isn’t real.”
“I’ll concede that it’s possible. Yet, Tabby ticked off motives like reading from a shopping list. No, more like reading from a script. Why?”
Steve shrugged. “It could be as simple as she’s an honest person.”
Heather countered with, “All we’ve proven so far is that Victor didn’t fall from the balcony of the Presidential Suite. What if Tabby conspired with a classmate? She could have gone with Victor or gone before him. All we have is her word that she stayed in the room.”
“The key log would have registered when she came back. Leo’s checking on it.”
“She could have made a deal with one or two of them. What if all the members of the physics club conspired with Tabby?”
“Slow down. Let’s take these one at a time,” said Steve. “What do we know about Cassie New?”
“Victor did a number on her in high school. I can’t imagine how hurt she was when he laughed at her.”
“True,” said Steve. “But that happened over twenty years ago. Do you think a mouse like her would hold a grudge that long?”
“Why not? She trashed his car with a baseball bat and got away with it. Now she’s in serious legal trouble. She could be putting on an elaborate show by dressing down and knitting. By her own admission she needs money. Desperate people do desperate things.”
Steve ran splayed fingers through his brown hair.
“You need a haircut,” said Heather.
“Don’t get me distracted. Where was I? Oh yeah. What you said about Cassie is true, but I can’t imagine her being capable of killing Victor.” He paused. “And I have a very vivid imagination.”
“Badrah Patel is next,” said Heather.
Steve took over. “She’s a sharp-tongued mathematician who watched Victor gain fabulous wealth from work she may have started. Maybe she did more than Victor. What if she’s the true brains behind the invention?”
“I can’t see her killing him,” said Heather with a shake of her head. “She has the most to lose. She’s brilliant and has plenty of money. In fact, she’s the only one who isn’t financially strapped besides Tabby.”
“True,” said Steve. “Finally, we have the trio of Dirk Stewart, his wife, Michelle Chan-Stewart, and her brother, Lewis Chan. All three could have conspired to kill Victor.”
“Could Tabby be the brains and money behind hiring them to get Victor to take a long fall off a high balcony?”
“Or is the California attorney behind the curtain pulling the levers?” asked Steve.
Heather issued a deep sigh. “My head hurts.”
“Go take a shower, you’ll feel better.”
“What are you going to do?”
Steve stepped back to the bed and removed his sunglasses. “I’m going to take a nap and give my brain a rest. We don’t have enough information gathered yet.”
“What kind of information?”
He lay flat on his back. “That’s what will come to me after I sleep.”
“In other words, you don’t know.”
Steve smiled and pointed to the door. “In other words, you need a shower.”
The foggy bathroom mirror resembled her thoughts. Heather toweled off and hoped Steve’s nap gave him a clear picture of things.
New beige slacks fit perfectly over black shoes with two-inch heels. She fingered the floral print blouse and nodded her approval. “I need to shop here more often.” She took her time getting ready and put her ear to the adjoining door before she left. The ebb and flow of Steve’s snoring brought a shake of her head. “How does he sleep like that? My brain’s going a hundred miles an hour. Oh, well. I need to go see the movie star.”
Tabby swung open the door, enveloped Heather in a two-armed hug and ushered her in. Despite the new outfit, carefully applied makeup and coiffured hair, Heather felt somewhat dowdy beside the former movie star.
“Come in. I’m sure you’re not here for a girl chat. What can I do for you?”
“I want to set up a camera as insurance against unwanted snoopers,” said Heather.
Tabby’s eyes widened. “Do you think he’ll try to break in? Is that guy who pounded on my door already out of jail?”
Heather gave Tabby’s hand a reassuring pat. “I doubt it, but I can check.”
“Would you?”
Heather reached for her phone and began to punch in a text. She stopped and asked, “Would you like me to stay with you tonight?”
“That would be wonderful. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Steve can call room service for dinner and—” Heather stopped in mid-sentence. “What’s wrong? You’re looking at me like I have two heads.”
“Steve phoned me earlier. He said the three of us were going to a French restaurant for supper. He didn’t tell you?”
Heather spoke as she gazed out the window. “It must have slipped his mind. Did he say anything else?”
She looked at a clock on the wall. “We’re to give him an hour before we go get him.”
Heather dredged her purse and came out with a tiny camera. “Okay. So, let’s set up this camera in the bedroom.”
“Wow, that’s a camera? It’s awfully small.”
They entered the bedroom and Heather asked, “Where’s the journal?”
“The nightstand. Right side.”
A scan of the bedroom revealed a vase of mixed flowers. “I can’t put this camera in plain sight. I’ll hide it in the arrangement and have it facing the nightstand.” She nestled the camera among the blooms where it had a clear but camouflaged view. “I’ll wait until we leave to turn it on.”
Tabby bent down to look at the device. “They used a prop like this in a movie I was in.”
Heather’s phone chimed a text alert. Chan released. Michelle Stewart posted bail. She turned to Tabby. “The man banging on your door earlier is out of jail.”
Tabby bit her bottom lip but remained silent.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be with you.”
Heather contemplated how Michelle Stewart found money for bail. The ringing of her phone brought the thought to an abrupt end.
“Ms. McBlythe, this is Brie Bannister. I understand you hired our firm to represent Ms. Cassie New. I thought you’d like to know that the police have detained Ms. New and have taken her from the hotel.”
Heather mashed the phone to her ear and waved her free arm. “What do you mean they took her from the hotel? Did they handcuff her?”
“Well, yes. He said it was for his protection.”
Anger rose in Heather, the type of anger that once ignited took a long time to burn itself out. “Was it a fat detective with squeaky shoes?”
“Well, yes it was.”
“Why did you let him take her? Don’t you know how to handle a bluffing windbag?”
Brie stuttered more than she talked. “I tried to, but he shouted at me and pushed me back. He was very rough.”
Heather took a deep breath. “How long have you been out of law school?”
The voice on the phone had the maturity of a middle school clarinet player. “I graduated nine months ago. I should have been licensed sooner, but I had to take the bar exam twice.”
Heather tried to count to ten. She made it to three before her Irish blood boiled over. “Listen, Brie. I’m going to do your job for you and find out where they took your client. I’ll text you the address. Grab your purse and go to your car. When you get to where they’ve taken Cassie don’t ask, demand, to see your client. Detective Tubbs will do anything he can to keep you from interrupting his interrogation. Don’t let him. He’ll tell you he has the right to keep your client detained until tomorrow. Tell him you already know about his encounter with his lieutenant today and that he’s one wrong step away from being a meter maid. He’ll try to bully you. Stand your ground. If he won’t release her, demand to see Lieutenant Blankenship. If that doesn’t work, call me back.”
Heather lowered her voice. “It would be best if the next call I receive from you is one telling me Ms. New is back in her room. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes ma’am. I’m already in the elevator. You won’t hear from me until I have her back in her room.”
Tabby’s eyes widened. “I’m glad you’re on my team.”
Heather dragged her hands down her face. “The problem with lack of experience is how much it costs, and I don’t mean money.”
Tabby’s blond hair swung side to side. “You won’t believe what inexperience in the film industry cost me.” Her countenance brightened. “Thank the Lord, that’s all in the past. I’m a new creation with a hope and a future.”
Heather wasn’t sure how to respond so she moved on. “Let me make this call and get young Miss Brie what she needs.”
Tabby disappeared into the bedroom. Heather followed after slipping her phone in her purse. “Is that Victor’s laptop?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’d like to look at his emails to check on the correspondence he had with the people he invited to come to the reunion. Do you know his password?”
Tabby moved to the desk and brought the screen to life. “He was such a security freak he changed it every day. It took me weeks of watching him sign in before I figured out his method. I’ll have it unlocked for you after I check yesterday’s market closings. The code will be his name, either spelled frontward or backward. After that, he put the letters of the stock ticker for the company. He ended the password with the stock quote for the previous day. I’ll check my phone for the closing quote.”
“He didn’t suspect you were trying to discover his password? You must have been looking over his shoulder in order to see him typing.”
“He didn’t suspect because he thought I didn’t know anything about computers except how to turn them on.”
It amazed Heather again that confessions rolled off Tabby’s tongue so naturally, without any hint of embarrassment or shame. Could this woman be the real thing or just a master manipulator? No time for that now. She needed to focus on the emails.
After forty-five minutes of making notes on her phone she rubbed her eyes and said, “That was interesting. Are you ready for supper?”
“Starving.”
Before Heather rose she asked, “Did Victor ever say why he wanted everyone involved with the battery to come to the reunion?”
Tabby’s eyebrows drew together. “No, but he seemed excited about coming.” She cocked her head and squinted one eye. “I do remember him saying it was time for a little pay-back. I have no idea what he meant, but he smiled when he said it.