Laina Turner - Presley Thurman 01 - Stilettos & Scoundrels Page 10

  “Why you? Shouldn’t the police be involved in this?”

  “The police have been called and are on their way,” he said tightly. “The Senator was on my watch when he was found, so it makes it my responsibility.” As he talked, he glared at me. My comment was a bit insensitive I suppose, but it just came out.

  “Who do you think could have killed him?”

  “Presley will be happy to help in any way she can,” my Dad interrupted. He was surprised that I was giving Cooper a hard time. He always wanted everyone to get along and usually didn’t see why people couldn’t. Living with my mother made being a peacemaker a full-time job for him. Just then, Sue came down the stairs. She was dressed and looked like a million bucks.

  I turned to see my mother and felt a twinge of envy. Why didn’t I have that skill? She hadn’t much more time than me to get ready, but she didn’t look like she just rolled out of bed. Damn her.

  “Good morning, sweetheart,” my dad said, reaching for her hand as Sue walked in the room. “I am afraid I have some bad news. Tom Daniels has been found murdered.”

  “Here?” my mother gasped, “In Alkon?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so,” my dad replied. “Honey, this is Cooper, Cooper Sands. He is head of the Senator’s security. He stopped by to ask Presley a few questions.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she said to Cooper. Then she turned to me, hands on hips and asked, “Why is he here asking you questions? How did you get yourself mixed up in this? What have you been doing?”

  “Mrs. Thurman,” Cooper interjected, “Presley was one of the last people to see the Senator yesterday during their interview. We’re just covering all bases.”

  “Well then, I guess that makes sense. I just can’t believe we had a murder here in our small town. I better call Helen and see what we can do for her. Oh, and I need to call the ladies from the League and start the communication tree—the other ladies will want to help too. I’ll make you all some coffee,” she said, walking into the kitchen. The best way she knew how to handle a crisis was to take action and cook something.

  As Cooper continued talking, I let my mind wander over yesterday’s events. A lot had happened, but I still couldn’t imagine who would have done this. People don’t get killed for being womanizing creeps, do they? Especially in a small town like Alkon. Surely, that Peter character wasn’t here in Alkon. That phone call was tense, but it sure didn’t seem life threatening. But who knows?

  “So, who do you think is responsible for this?” I asked again. “How did it happen?”

  “Presley, can you think of anything that may have been out of the ordinary when you were with the Senator yesterday?” Cooper asked, again ignoring my question and asking a question of his own.

  I racked my brain, going over yesterday’s conversation with the Senator. “When I arrived, he told me to take a seat while he finished a phone conversation. I could hear him in his office arguing with someone named Peter, but I already told you that last night.”

  “I know. You sure there was nothing else?” Cooper asked.

  “I just heard the tail end of the conversation. He said something to the effect of, ‘I’ll get you your money. Don’t I always?’ Then I think he hung up on him. A couple of seconds later, he told me he was ready for the interview. I didn’t really hear much. Who is Peter anyway?”

  Cooper took notes. Then he looked up and asked, “Where were you when this conversation took place?”

  “I told you. I was sitting just outside his office, but he had the door open and I could hear everything pretty clearly.” As I told this to Cooper for the second time, there was another knock at the front door. What a popular place this was at six o’clock in the morning—a regular Grand Central Station. My mother got the door this time, and I could hear Dirt and someone else at the door. This should be interesting. After the tension last night at La Casa, I wondered what would happen when Dirt saw that Cooper was already here asking questions he really didn’t have much right to ask, in the eyes of the police anyway. I assumed that even under good circumstances the police didn’t have a lot of patience for private security. I quickly found that to be true as my mother came back into the room, followed by Dirt and someone named Officer Schultz.

  “I’ll bring you all back some coffee. It will be ready in a minute,” my mother said.

  As Dirt walked in, Cooper stood up, bracing for the fight he knew was probably going to happen. He knew Dirt would be pissed that he was even here; under the best of circumstances, it would still be a territorial thing. Under the current tense circumstances, it could be interesting. Cooper always enjoyed a challenge and interacting with Dirt these days was always a challenge. Cooper hoped it wouldn’t get too out of hand because he knew Mrs. Thurman would be pissed if they busted up their furniture.

  “What are you doing here?” Dirt asked Cooper angrily.

  “Same thing as you, I suppose. Trying to see who might have had the motive to kill Senator Daniels.” Cooper wasn’t about to let Dirt engage him in an argument.

  “What right do you think you have? This is a police matter. The last thing I need is you in here screwing it up.”

  “I have just as much right to find the killer as you do. I worked for him, so I know a lot more about him than you do. We should be working this together.”

  “Yeah, you worked for him. Doesn’t seem like you did too good of a job protecting him, now does it? Considering he’s dead.”

  I cringed. Ouch, that had to hurt. I couldn’t believe Dirt actually said that—what an ass. I spied the throbbing vein in Cooper’s forehead and saw that, despite his best efforts, he was starting to lose control of his temper.

  “Exactly. I am responsible for someone getting through security and this happening. Even more reason for me to find the killer. I owe it to Helen.”

  Dirt was relentless. “This is none of your concern, Cooper. I suggest you get out of my way before you screw this investigation up too. Do you really want to be responsible for letting the killer get away?”

  Cooper blanched at this remark. Dirt really hit home. Cooper just glared at Dirt. There was so much he wanted to say, but he knew it was better right now to keep his mouth shut.

  “Do I need to have you escorted out, or are you going to do the sensible thing and leave?” Dirt asked and Officer Schultz took a step forward.

  If the situation wasn’t so tense, it would be comical, almost like an old Mexican standoff from the old time westerns that I used to watch with my dad. Cooper just looked at Dirt again and grabbed his coat. Retreating, for now, would be the best thing to do. It was obvious that Dirt wasn’t going to budge, and technically, Dirt had the advantage. Cooper couldn’t argue with that.

  “Stay away from this investigation, Cooper,” Dirt said to him.

  “Not a chance, Dirt.” Cooper nodded at my dad and I before stalking toward the door. “I’m not finished with this,” Cooper added, walking out of the house and closing the door behind him.

  “What’s your deal, Dirt? Why were you so rude? You both have the same goal here. In fact, he was close to the Senator. I am sure he could have valuable information for you. Why wouldn’t you want his help?” I was full of questions and rattled them off in quick succession.

  “He has no business interfering in a police investigation, Presley, and he could be a suspect. He can’t contaminate anything or anyone related to this case”

  “No, I agree that you should be the one to run the investigation, but don’t you think you were a bit over the top?”

  “I don’t have time for this, Presley. You don’t know what you are talking about. I need to talk to you about the murder of Senator Daniels.”

  “Dirt, I don’t know what you expect me to tell you. I told you everything that happened at La Casa last night. Tell me, how did this happen?”

  “Well, we need to go over it again, officially. Last night I might have missed something. So start from the beginning and tell me what happened when you got there.�
�� Dirt completely ignored my question too.

  I sighed and, as I started to retell the events, I realized that this was going to be a long day.

  ******

  After what seemed like a never-ending litany of questions, in which Dirt asked the same thing in fifty different ways, I was exhausted and he and Officer Schultz finally left. My mother kept them fed during the interview. I bet they would never pull me over for speeding.

  When everyone had left, my parents and I moved to relax in the living room. Who would have thought talking would be so exhausting? The phone had been ringing off the hook most of the morning. It had finally subsided a little, and I leaned back into the couch, closing my eyes and half paying attention to my parents’ conversation.

  “I just can’t believe this would happen to him, Clark. Things like that aren’t supposed to happen out here.”

  “Sue, it’s an isolated incident, and I don’t think us regular folk have anything to worry about.”

  “Well, I won’t feel the same about you being out late. By the way, where did you go last night when you left Bill’s? I called Geanie at nine p.m., and she said you were already gone.”

  “I knew you were at your club meeting, so I just went to Randy’s for a while. I got home shortly after eleven, and you were already asleep.”

  This exchange brought me awake. I saw him drive by after 1 am, so he couldn’t have been at Randy’s. Even if he had the times wrong, last I knew Randy lived on the other side of town, which wouldn’t explain what he was doing on Main Street.

  “I know, I was exhausted. I didn’t even hear you come in, but I thought I was still awake at eleven.”

  “No, darling, you were definitely sleeping like a log when I got home.”

  I was confused. Why would Dad lie? At least I now knew he hadn’t seen me when he drove by or he wouldn’t be trying to fib about the time.

  “Does Randy still live by the Collin’s farm?” I asked.

  “He sure does. That house has been in their family for years.”

  He was definitely lying. But why? What was he out doing?

  ****

  I just had to get out of this house. Feeling restless after the morning’s excitement, I originally intended to go for a random drive, but as I got to thinking, I remembered something Brian had said to me last night. After getting past the personal feelings, I had filled him in on my experience interviewing the Senator. He, in turn, told me about his own interactions with the Senator. That was what came back to me as I drove. Brian told me about the day the Senator came into town and stopped by Brian’s shop, wanting to discuss some restoration work needing done on one of the classic cars in his collection. The Senator had been feeling melancholy, mentioning to Brian that he felt like the world was closing in and that he always had people around telling him what to do. He said that the stuff he had to do wasn’t always what he wanted to do. Brian told me he seemed depressed and not the happy-go-lucky guy he normally was. Brian also told me he found it very unusual that the Senator would confide these things to him over a two-hour time period. He just hung out and watched while Brian worked—and talked incessantly. Brian said the most time he had ever spent there previously was a few minutes. He was always in a rush to get somewhere. His behavior was strange.

  I thought that, in light of what had just happened, I should head over to Brian’s house. He might have more to add. Of course, I hadn’t told any of this to either Cooper or Dirt. I had honestly forgotten, and even if I had remembered, it was just hearsay. I felt I needed to get more information from Brian, and then tell them. I didn’t want to start spreading gossip. God knows that happened enough. But I felt a bit uneasy about this decision. Maybe I should have told them and let them figure out what it meant. However, I convinced myself I would tell them soon enough and I hoped to have more accurate information.

  I pulled in to Brian’s driveway, but the house looked quiet. His truck was gone, so I assumed he was gone as well. Damn. Where could he be? I had decided to stop at the local greasy spoon, thinking that maybe Brian had gone for an early lunch, when my phone rang. Looking at the caller I.D., I saw it was my editor. Crap. I hadn’t really thought yet about how this would affect the article. I hoped my career wasn’t over before it started. This is where being friends with him might just come in handy. Maybe he’d give me another chance.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, Pres! It’s Trevor! What the hell is going on down there?” he asked excitedly.

  “What do you mean?” I wasn’t intentionally playing dumb, but I wasn’t sure how one was supposed to act when their article’s subject had been murdered.

  “Presley, the Senator was big news before. Don’t you realize that now he is even bigger? This is better than I could have hoped!”

  Better than he could have hoped? Wow. I knew I was self-centered, but being glad about someone’s murder because it was going to be a better story—that was out there even for me. “I’m glad the Senator being murdered helps us out,” I said sarcastically. Good thing Trevor was a friend. This was probably not the best way to act with a new boss.

  “Don’t be like that, Pres. Of course we’re sad he was murdered, but this is a great opportunity for us. For you! This is the story of the month right now, and our magazines, and you, are right in the middle of things,” Trevor explained. “This is a great break for a new magazine like ours.”

  As Trevor outlined the way he wanted her to approach this turn of events, my mind began to think of the possibilities. Not to feed off the misfortune of others, but Trevor was right. This could be my big break, the magazine’s big break. Maybe I could figure out who killed the Senator. I was a little glad I hadn’t told Dirt and Cooper about what Brian said. It’s not as if they wouldn’t eventually find out anyway, and it would give me a small chance to get a head start and a chance to solve this murder and write a better story than what I thought originally.

  Chapter 7I slid into the retro booth at La Casa across from Katy for the second time in two days. We had forgone our picnic in light of the Senator’s murder and decided instead that somewhere in town would be much better. That didn’t leave too many choices, so La Casa seemed the best choice again.

  Chris Stone was there and Katy was hanging on every word he was saying. I noticed Katy had an extra button undone on her pink Oxford shirt. Yep, she was definitely showing some cleavage, though with her chest it didn’t take much effort. Was something going on here between them? Katy didn’t usually show that much cleavage for no reason—especially to someone she has known for years. Not that I would blame her. Chris was cute, but he sure was acting strange yesterday.

  “So, what is so important that you couldn’t tell me on the phone?” asked Katy playfully as I settled into the booth. Since it was mid-afternoon and Katy had dinner plans at her dad’s, she was sipping a Diet Coke instead of her trademark margarita. Although, after a morning like this one, a margarita sure sounded good, even if it was barely lunchtime.

  “Hi, Chris,” I said to him before answering Katy’s question. He nodded to me as a response. I wondered if he planned to stick around longer than he had last night. I took my denim jacket off and checked him out. He had light brown hair and blue eyes, set in a face with the best cheekbones I had ever seen on a guy without looking feminine. It didn’t hurt either that he was six foot, four inches tall—a little on the skinny side but still a good looking body. I noticed the other day that he did a nice job filling out his proverbial Calvin Kleins. I knew a man’s ass wasn’t the first thing I should be checking out, but as a red-blooded female, I was entitled to take a peek. It was an important piece of the male anatomy and one that could be easily checked out anytime. In fact, a man’s backside was usually much more attractive in the jeans than out.

  “Have you been on another planet this morning? You didn’t hear? Senator Daniels was found dead earlier,” I said, rummaging for my favorite lip gloss in my brown Coach purse. The purse, a bucket style, was one of my favorites, even if
it was a present from Rick. One of the few pleasant memories I still had of him was he didn’t mind spending money. Of course, he was still such an asshole. I almost felt I should have been greedier so at least the relationship wouldn’t have been a total waste.

  “Of course I heard that! I do spend all of my days in a beauty salon, where the goal is to have the most gossip. My phone was ringing off the hook all morning at home since the salon wasn’t open. But what does that have to do with you? I don’t get why it’s such a big deal, so enlighten me.”

  I dropped my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Cooper showed up at my house at six o’clock this morning to grill me,” I said, rolling my eyes dramatically. “Then halfway through that lovely experience, which happened before I got any coffee mind you, Dirt showed up and all but threw Cooper out of the house for interfering in a police investigation. I tell you, something is going on between those two and I would like to know what.”

  “Who cares about that? Tell me what you know about the Senator. I don’t remember anything like this happening here before. How was he killed?” Katy shot rapid-fire questions, snapping her fingers. “C’mon. C’mon. What did they tell you? Who do they think did this?”