Chapter 17
Monty, Luke, and Jack stood in the compound’s conference room, once more looking at the board on the wall with the case notes Luke had projected. Moving them around on the screen, they tried to see patterns with the new information. Chad walked around the corner and into the room, seeing what the others were viewing. “What a fuckin’ mess,” he exclaimed, seeing the various lines and connections.
“We keep looking at Colonial Financial Group, but do you think it could be the sorority? Someone with a grudge? Someone trying to get a payback…even years later?” Jack pondered aloud. Like Luke, he meticulously sifted through every angle in an investigation.
“I’ve mentioned this to Angel, but she swears nothing was going on with the sorority,” Monty replied. “According to her, they were a small sorority, made up mostly of studious women, and their activities centered around community service. They didn’t have a house together to live in. It was a small chapter…only about twenty girls each year.”
Luke asked, “So no disgruntled girl who didn’t make it? No one kicked out?”
“Nope. Angel said they were so geeky, almost no one wanted to pledge with them.”
“Hey, nothing wrong with being a nerd,” Luke added, his lips turning up. He had fought against the geeky reputation as an adolescent but, once in college, found a group of other like-minded computer nerds.
Chad laughed, saying, “Yeah, well I’ll bet your intelligence didn’t keep you alone on Saturday nights in college.”
“Hell, I didn’t get my growth spurt until I was about seventeen and by then I was a freshman in college,” Luke ruefully admitted, a smirk on his face. “Before then, I was a ninety-pound, nerdy weakling.”
The others laughed, now looking at Luke’s height and lean, muscular, runners’ build, before turning back to Monty.
“Angel said having a small sorority allowed them to get to know each other and the ones that graduated with her stayed close. There were about seven of them and now three are dead within a two-month period.”
“Too much of a coincidence,” Blaise said, walking into the room, having heard the last part of Monty’s explanation. He looked at Monty and added, “She’s still at the bakery. Never left today. I stayed until Jude took over. He’s parked outside.”
Jack asked, “Does she have a clue she’s being watched?”
“I told her that she was under our protection, but I doubt she knows we have a tail on her. Honestly, most days she’s in the bakery’s kitchen by five a.m. and stays until about seven or eight at night.”
“I’ve been digging into the finances of the sorority women and not just the victims,” Luke said, eyeing Monty. “I want you to remember that includes Angel. I don’t want any misunderstandings.”
Nodding, Monty agreed. “Thanks for the reminder. Yeah, I understand she’s got to be checked as well.” He twisted to look at Luke. “You find anything pertinent?”
Luke held his gaze for a second too long. “Only that Colonial Financial is her investment brokerage as well, but you knew that.”
By now, Bart and Cam had entered the room as well. Bart leaned his large body against the doorframe and said, “I’ll be glad to do more interviewing.”
“How about you two making a trip to Colonial Financial…after hours, of course. I don’t know what exactly to have you look for, but maybe anything that isn’t showing up on Luke’s electronic trail.” He grinned as Bart and Cam fist bumped at their assignment.
“Jack, can you and Chad see Bill Bradley, Betty’s newfound brother?” Monty asked. Receiving their nods, he jotted down the address and handed it to Jack. “Luke and Jude are checking into him, but I’d like your take as well.”
Glancing at his watch, Jack replied, “We can leave now and probably get him tonight.”
“Mitch is having the labs put a rush on her meds. He’ll call me as soon as we know if there was anything wrong with her prescriptions.”
Chad smiled at Monty as he passed Jack to head up the stairs. “Don’t worry. We’ll just lean on him a little.”
Bart smirked as he threw his arm over Cam’s shoulders, saying, “And we’ll be just as quiet as little mice tonight breaking into the offices!”
The others laughed as the two largest of them headed out the door. Monty said, “I’d like to talk to Scott at Colonial Financial again. I’ll call Marc and see if he’s up for a chat as well.”
Blaise, pouring more coffee, said, “He should be available. He was just coming in behind me. By the way, I heard the forecast as I was driving here. We’re right in the path of a huge snowstorm.”
“What else is new for central Virginia?” Jack chuckled.
“Well, this one is huge. They’re calling for over two feet.”
The men in the room whistled. It had been a couple of years since they had snow that large. “When’s it supposed to hit?” Marc asked, coming in around the corner. An outdoorsman, he had no fear of a large storm.
“Day after tomorrow.”
Monty, rubbing his chin, said, “Then we need to step things up. We need to work these interviews in. Blaise, you meet with the Senator and his staff again. Marc, you and I will head over to Colonial Financial. Jack and Chad are interviewing a possible suspect in Betty Mavery’s killing. Jude’ll watch Angel and, Luke…you know what to do.”
“With all of you interviewing, send your intel in and Luke and I’ll add it here. We’ll coordinate virtually,” Jack ordered.
With nods all around, the men moved out.
*
A small group of woman were meeting in the back of Angel’s Cupcake Heaven. Helen came into the kitchen where Angel was finishing the specialty desserts for the assembly.
“You fixing your designer cupcakes for the women in the back?” Helen asked.
“Yes. A woman who runs a wedding venue called to say that she wanted to taste-test some of my newer creations and that we could talk about her using me as one of her preferred businesses that she would recommend to brides.” She looked up at Helen and cocked her head while wiping her cheek, leaving a pink stripe. “Why? Is there something going on?”
“Oh, no. They keep asking when you’ll be out. They seem anxious to meet you.”
With a last flourish of the icing bag, Angel placed it on the counter and announced, “Well, I guess I should get this show on the road then.” She and Helen each picked up a tray and made their way to the back of the bakery.
Approaching them, Angel saw four women sitting at one of the oval wooden tables covered with heavy glass over the pink tablecloths. She saw smiles from the four, but noticed their faces also held curiosity in them as well.
“Ladies, here is a sampling of my latest creations. I hope you enjoy them.”
“Can you sit with us?” The question came from the fresh-faced woman whose honey-blonde hair was pulled back in a long braid hanging over her shoulder. She was dressed for comfort in khakis and a forest green sweater.
The others immediately scooted their chairs together, making room for another seat. Another blonde, her designer clothing noticeable, but comfortable. A petite, dark-haired woman leaned back, her pregnancy obvious in her pale pink maternity sweater. The fourth woman, her face soft with a gentle smile stared intently at Angel.
“Um, sure. I thought you might want to eat in private first and then, if you’re still interested, we could talk.”
“Oh, no. Your reputation speaks for itself. This is really just a formality. Um…sort of a chance to get to know you.”
“O…kay…” Angel said, seeing the huge smiles on the other women. Turning to grab a chair from a neighboring table, she placed it between two dark haired women in the group.
The speaker said, “I’m Bethany Bryant. I own Mountville Cabins and Wedding Venue. These are my friends, Miriam, Sabrina, and Faith.”
Shaking their hands, Angel turned her attention back to Bethany as she served the various deluxe cupcakes for them to try. She tried not to notice the women’s glances at her and each other, but it was hard not to be aware of the undercurrent of curiosity.
After several minutes of orgasmic moaning over the various melt-in-your-mouth, moist goodies, the women leaned back in their chairs, satisfied expressions on their faces.
“I would love to work with you,” Bethany said. “If you would be agreeable, I would offer your bakery as the go-to business for wedding cupcakes in my advertisements.”
While Bethany and Angel discussed the particulars, the other three women sat observing the exchange. “Listen, Angel, I feel the need to make sure you understand who I am before we finalize any deal. My husband is Jack Bryant…of Saints Protection & Investigations.”
“Monty’s boss?” Angel asked, surprise on her face.
“Yes, but please don’t think this offer has anything to do with that. But I have to say…” she continued, looking at the other women, “we really wanted to meet you.”
Angel looked around the table as each woman re-introduced themselves and the Saint they were with. Smiling, she said, “Monty speaks of the other Saints with such respect and I’ve heard him mention you, too.”
Focusing her attention back to Bethany, she said, “I would love to partner with you, but in another couple of weeks, I’ll be moving to a different location and it will take at least a week to get up and running. I’ll have the kitchen going quickly, but will need to decorate the new space.”
Sabrina’s eyes lit up. “I just happen to be an interior decorator. I’d love to help. In fact, I was just noticing the unusual mural painted on your wall.” She nodded her head to the muted painting of a medieval man in long robes, using a flat paddle to pull loaves of bread from a domed stone oven.
Angel smiled, but offered no other explanation other than, “I saw that in a book once when I was in culinary school and thought it was fitting.”
“It’s certainly apropos.” Sabrina turned back to Angel, “Here’s my card if you’re interested in talking about decorating the new shop.”
“I’d love to…as long as it would involve my signature colors,” Angel said, waving her hand around, at the pink, purple, and teal colors splashed all over her walls.
“I can definitely do that!” Sabrina laughed.
As the women stood to leave, Angel hugged each one. Sabrina turned to the group and said, “I’ll catch a ride with Jude since he’s on duty outside. We’ll only have to wait just a bit for until Monty comes.”
Angel cocked her head to the side, confused by Sabrina’s words. “Duty? What duty? And I don’t know that Monty’s coming tonight.”
“Oh, sure he is. He’s here at night and the other men rotate during the day,” Miriam said, beaming at Angel.
Angel stood, tapping her toe with her hands on her hips. “I still don’t understand what the duty is all about.”
The four women glanced nervously between each other and Angel. Just then, Monty walked into the bakery.
“Oh, good. Monty’s here,” Bethany exclaimed and with another round of quick goodbyes and promises to see each other soon, the women hastily left.
Monty looked in surprise as the foursome greeted him as they flew by on their way out the door. He turned to smile at the beauty in the back when he saw her stance. Arms crossed, hip cocked, toe tapping. He walked toward her, not stopping until his shoes were directing in front of hers and wrapped his arms around her stiff body. Planting a kiss on her unyielding lips, he leaned back.
“You want to tell me what’s got you in a tiff? I see you met the women…what happened?”
“They were great, but you want to tell me what they meant by Jude on watch outside my shop?”
He rubbed the back of his neck as he stared down at his feet. “Cupcake—”
“Don’t you cupcake me, Monty!”
He placed his hands on her shoulders and bent down to look directly into her eyes. “I told you that you were now under our protection.” Before she could protest, he continued, “and that means that when you’re not with me, I want someone on you.”
“You don’t think that’s just a little bit over the top?” she queried.
“Nope. Babe, I’ve got three deaths that are all close to you and we’re no closer to solving them than we were. Bottom line, I want you safe.” Sighing, he pulled her in tightly, nodding at Helen, who was locking the front door and turning out the lights.
“Angel,” Helen said. “I’ll close up tonight. You go on upstairs with Mr. Lytton and I’ll see you in the morning.
Nodding, Angel and Monty made their way up to her apartment. Reaching the top of the stairs, they both began to apologize at the same time.”
Smiling, she said, “You go first.”
Taking her hand and leading her to the sofa where he pulled her down next to him, he said, “I’m sorry I did not tell you about the men watching over you, but please understand I’m not sorry that I’m doing it.”
“And I’m sorry that I jumped down your throat. I realize this is difficult. I just don’t see how the three deaths can be related. It just makes no sense to me.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, before she spoke. “Monty, I’d like to help.”
“Help?”
“You know, with the investigation. These were my friends.”
“Oh, no fuckin’ way, Cupcake. You remember what happened the last time you tried to get information?”
Slapping his shoulder, she said, “Don’t remind me! I ended up scaring some poor man who was trying to just cheat on his wife.”
Monty glared. “And don’t you even think that it was anything less than you taking a huge risk that could have played out very differently if he had been a killer.”
The silence was no longer comfortable and she moved to rise from the sofa. He captured her hand before she moved away and gave it a little tug. Turning, she gazed back down at him, regret in her eyes.
“Baby, we’ve got this. I know it may seem like we’re not making progress, but we’ll figure it out.” He silently hoped he could keep that promise.
*
Bill Bradley opened the door of his apartment, his eyes wide at the two huge men standing in the breezeway. “Uh…uh…”
“Mr. Bradley, I’m Jack Bryant and this is Chad Fornelli from Saints Protection and Investigations. I called earlier to meet with you.”
“Yes, yes,” the much smaller man said, backing up so that Jack and Chad could enter his home.
A quick glance gave evidence that Bill lived simply, but not frugally. A large, flat-screen TV was perched on a nice cabinet, the multitude of wires behind connected to a DVD/Blueray player, an X-box, a sound system, and a cable box. The sofa facing the TV was not new, but not worn. The dining room table was older but appeared unused for eating, with its tabletop covered in papers and a laptop.
Jack turned his attention back to the owner. Bill Bradley was about five feet eight inches, with a slender body. His brown hair was trimmed neatly and his dark-rimmed glasses were constantly pushed upon his face as they slid down.
As the three men sat down, Bill shifted his eyes nervously between the two men. “Can I get you anything? I’ve got soda and tea?”
“No, thank you,” Jack said. “We’re here to ask you some questions about Betty Mavery.” When Bill just nodded but did not say anything else, Jack continued. “We understand that you recently discovered your relationship with Ms. Mavery.”
“I was adopted and decided to see if I could get information on my parents. It took a while, but I finally did and discovered I had a sister. I contacted Betty and, well, the rest is history. Her adoptive family made me feel real welcome and it finally felt like I had a whole life.”
“How would you describe your relationship with Betty?” Chad asked.
“Relationship? Uh…well, we got along good. We’d have dinner sometimes and, about once a week or so, I’d go to her parent’s house for dinner too.”
“How did the Maverys compare to your adoptive family?”
Seemingly surprised by the question, Bill appeared thoughtful. “The Bradleys were nice people. They didn’t have much money, but we got by okay. They were a lot older when they adopted me and Mr. Bradley had a stroke when I was about fifteen. Things got real tight then…with money. I worked part time at a grocery and helped out. He died a year later and Mrs. Bradley was lost after that. They weren’t bad to me, but when I hit eighteen years old, I left.”
“And compared to the Maverys?”
“I know they’re not rolling in a ton of dough, but it was obvious that Betty had pretty much anything she wanted growing up. She went to college and got a good job.” Bill grimaced as his lips tightened.
“But you’ve managed to obtain training and a job as a pharmaceutical technician?”
“It pays the bills and allows me to have more money than I’ve ever had before,” he admitted. “This is the nicest place I’ve ever lived.”
“Tell us about the last meal you had with the Maverys. The one where you and Betty argued,” Jack stated.
Shifting his eyes down to the floor, Bill’s face turned red. “I see the Maverys have been talking.” Silence moved over the occupants of the room, seeming to unnerve Bill. “Betty had a lot of money. She had a big job and made twice what I make in a year. Plus she had money that she invested and I know it was doing good. I overheard her talking on the phone one time to one of her friends about the money. I tried to get her to understand how inequitable it all was.”
Jack and Chad said nothing, but Jack’s lifted eyebrow gave evidence to Bill that more information was needed.
“You know?” Bill implored for understanding. “We came from the same parents. By a stroke of luck, she gets adopted by a family that can give her stuff and by that same stroke of unluck, I get adopted by an older couple who can’t give me much at all. If that’s not inequitable, I don’t know what is! All I asked for was some money to help me get ahead.”
The room filled with silence once more as Bill slumped against the chair he was sitting in. “All I was asking for was some financial equality.”
“Did she ever help you out financially?” Chad asked.
“Yeah. She gave me some money occasionally and then gave me the name of her investment broker.” Giving a derisive snort, he added, “I talked to the person she told me about but they were going to let another person handle me. It seems the amount of money you want to invest determines which person will help you.”
“So you two fought?” Jack prodded.
“No, it wasn’t no fight,” Bill protested. “We discussed it…loudly, but it wasn’t no fight. I backed down like I always did and figured I’d just keep saving to get more money to invest.”
“And then your sister died.”
Bill glumly looked up at both men. “Yeah.” His voice carried a mixture of grief and wistfulness. “I know the Maverys are hurting real bad. I told them that I’d try to take her place.”
Jack and Chad shared a quick glance, first at each other and then back at Bill. He was still slumped in his chair, the appearance of a kicked dog visible in his countenance.
“Do you think the Maverys will have you be a continued presence in their family?” Chad asked, caution tinting his voice.
Bill’s face changed from downtrodden to indignation in a flash as he sat up quickly. “Of course. Why wouldn’t they? I’m Betty’s brother after all. That’s almost like being their son. I’m sorry about Betty, but they’re gonna need someone to take care of them and I’ll be that person.”
Changing gears, Jack asked, “Did the pharmacy you worked at fill Betty’s prescriptions?”
Bill hesitated a half-beat too long in answering. “Um, yeah. Sure. I’m sure we did. Why? She’d had a heart condition since birth and it was just her time. Maybe she skipped some pills or something. I could…um…check for you…if you want.”
Bill’s nervous rambling motivated Jack to increase the pressure on him. “Oh, don’t worry about it. The FBI is already checking with the pharmacist.” He watched Bill’s face carefully before dropping his bomb. “And, they’ve collected all of her medicines from the Mavery’s house for analysis.”
Bill’s eyes grew wide at that proclamation. “Whatever for? She had a bad heart!” he squeaked, chewing on his lip.
“Oh, just normal procedure in a suspicious death.”
“Suspi….” Bill’s voice tapered off as he looked down at his clasped hands. “I just thought she died from a heart attack.”
“Do you think that you will be in Ms. Mavery’s will?” Chad asked.
Bill’s eyes darted up to Chad, his face now a mask of anger. “I don’t know what you’re implying. I’ve got no idea if I am or not. If I am, then that’d only be right since I’m her brother.” He looked over at Jack before adding, “I think I’ve answered all the questions today I’m gonna answer.”
Nodding, Jack and Chad stood and walked back to their SUV. Once they were driving down the road, Chad looked over at Jack and said, “He’s guilty. Of what, I don’t know. But he’s guilty of something.”
Jack nodded, his mind racing as to how Bill Bradley fit into their puzzle. The increasingly convoluted puzzle.