She glanced at the picture for a second and then looked away.
“You’re a liar. So they were in a photo together, big deal. They were just friends.”
“I’m a PI. My clients pay me to uncover the truth, like it or not,” I said. “You need to stay away from him.”
“And if I don’t he’ll what, kill me.” She threw her head back and laughed. “Get real.”
“Maybe he won’t go that far, but he might hit you if he hasn’t already,” I said.
Her eyes bored into mine and I imagined she would slap me. She didn’t. Instead she pivoted on her studded heel and made a beeline for the security gate. I followed.
She took her place in line.
“I hope you enjoyed you time with Parker,” she said. “You won’t get any more of it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, is he going somewhere?” I said.
She showed her information to the security person and looked back at me before she went through to the other side.
“You’re the PI. You figure it out.”
CHAPTER 43
What had she meant when she said I wouldn’t get more time with Parker? For whatever reason, she thought I was going in the wrong direction. I wrestled back and forth about my next move, but it didn’t take me long to decide that I needed to see if Parker was still around. I flipped my car around and headed toward his town house in the city. He wasn’t there.
It took forty-five minutes for me to get back to Park City and over to Parker’s house. When I drove up his street and parked in the driveway one of the neighbors noticed me and watched me exit my car and approach the doorway. I looked over and he nodded. I returned the sentiment. Then I knocked on Parker’s door and waited. There was no answer. I knocked again. Still nothing.
On the side of the house a series of small windows lined the length of the garage. They were almost six feet up from the ground, but on my tip toes I could see inside. His car wasn’t there.
I walked back to my car and got in and checked the time. About an hour and a half had passed since he dropped Kristin off at the airport. Maybe he needed a bit more time.
I ran a few errands in town and by early evening it warmed up enough that I took Lord Berkeley for a walk along the Rail Trail. He scampered down the path and sniffed old friends along the way and made some new ones. We passed a much larger mangy-looking dog that was all black and showed no interest in a bond of any kind. Lord Berkeley got close enough to invade his personal space and he sounded the alarm. Boo, oblivious to his actual height or lack thereof, steadied his approach, much to the chagrin of the dog and its owner who shook her head at me like I was an unfit parent. Lord Berkeley didn’t seem to care and neither did I. He wagged his tail and did a few spins for his newfound friend. The other dog remained unimpressed. I looked at my watch. Time to go.
I dropped Lord Berkeley back at home and made my way back over to Parker’s house. With Nick at work I could do my job with no interruptions.
The lamppost across the street was still broken when I approached, and Parker’s house was draped in black. I stepped out of my car and when I shut the door my keys fell from my hands and clanked down on the icy pavement beneath me. I bent down and ran my hands along the area where I stood but only felt ice. I reached into my car and grabbed a mini flashlight out of the center console and cupped it in my hand and turned it on. My keys had lodged behind one of my tires. Crisis averted.
A noise ruffled through the hedges in Parker’s yard. I took a few steps back and crouched down behind the side of my car. The sound came again and this time there was movement. I pulled my gun from its holster and flicked the switch on my flashlight and aimed it at the bushes. Two beady eyes stared at me in horror and then a large mass of fur leapt over the hood of my car and faded into the night.
I took a minute to catch my breath and then crossed the street. The front door was open wide enough for me to stick my hand through. I yelled into the darkness, but the only answer that came was a reverberation of my own voice. With my flashlight lit up I peeked once again through the window of the garage. His car was there so why wasn’t he? I decided to find out.
To lessen my chances of getting caught I stuck with the flashlight. I entered the living room which contained a lot of leather furniture and not much else. A bottle of wine remained on the coffee table and a pair of men’s slippers were on the floor.
I moved further down the hall and entered the master bedroom. There were no windows that faced the street so I turned on the lamp on his bedside table. The duvet hung over the bed and most of it rested in a massive lump on the floor. I searched both side-table drawers and found nothing but several pairs of boxers and an assortment of socks.
After I shut off the light on the lamp I went back down the hall and through the kitchen. On the other side just past the dining area was a room with a large desk in the center of it. The desk was barren with the exception of a few folders off to the side, some framed family photos that didn’t include any of his other women, and a single piece of paper folded in half which sat in the center of the desk. I picked it up and unfolded it. Scrawled in pen were two words, forgive me.
The paper slipped through my fingers and fell to the floor. I took a step backward and bent down to retrieve it and stepped on a wet, sticky substance and slid across the floor. I shifted my balance and pushed my hands down to break my fall. My hand swept across something hard upon impact and it slid to the side, making a sharp noise that sounded like the blade of a knife cutting across cement. I bent down to investigate and placed my hand on the armrest of the chair for balance, and that’s when I felt it. The leather on the chair didn’t feel like leather at all. It felt like flesh. Human flesh. It was cold and clammy and wet. I jerked my hand back and flashed the light toward the chair. There on the chair sat Parker. His head faced the floor and his body was slumped to one side. In the soft glow of the flashlight I caught a glimpse of my hands. They were covered in blood. I extended my index and pointer finger to the side of Parker’s neck. There was no pulse, no sign of life. I reached into my pocket and grabbed my phone and pressed number one on my speed dial.
“Nick,” I said, in a whisper. “It’s me. I’m at Parker Stanton’s house. I think he’s dead.”
CHAPTER 44
“What were you doing here?” Nick said.
I shook my head and stared at the wooden grains on the floor.
“When the chief gets here, he’ll want answers. If you talk to me, maybe I can talk to him.”
I nodded. It was all I could do at the moment and even that seemed like too much. My entire body felt like someone took a stick and smacked my funny bone over and over again.
“Sloane, listen to me. Look at me.”
I hesitated.
“Would you look at me please?”
I removed my hands from around my knees and sat up. Nick had a bewildered look on his face like he couldn’t decide whether to scold me or comfort me.
“You’re shaking.”
“I think I’m in shock,” I said.
“That’s natural.”
It didn’t feel that way. I wiped my eyes.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” I said. “I can’t believe he’s dead Nick.”
I tried my best to regain composure.
“Do you know how it happened?”
“I found him on the chair, but I don’t know how he got there or when. There was a paper on his desk with a couple words on it and a gun on the floor and he had no pulse.”
I looked down at my shoes; they had red splotches on them.
“I want to talk you about this, but the other guys are on their way and I don’t want anyone to see you like this.”