CHAPTER SEVEN
“Just how long has Laurel been in there?” Grace asked, her usual smile missing as she joined Smith in the corner of the foyer. “I would have thought she would have been done by now. What kind of lawyer did you hire?”
He’d been staring at the closed door where Detective Nielsen had escorted Laurel and Meg to conduct the interview. Smith was under no misconceptions about how these types of investigations were run, and he’d been pleased when Laurel had accepted the legal counsel he’d provided. Speaking to the authorities about anything official without representation was always a mistake. His father hadn’t needed to tell him twice.
“It’s been exactly forty-three minutes.” Smith didn’t have to look at his watch, considering he’d done so thirty seconds before Grace had walked back through the glass doors. “Did Cynthia ever get ahold of Gareth?”
“You knew?” The astonishment in Grace’s tone was evident. Smith had been in this industry long enough to know that nothing important was kept secret for very long. He was, however, a bit surprised that Grace hadn’t learned that vital lesson by now. It was the reason he wasn’t bothered when his relationship with Laurel had been brought out into the open. The only ones who hadn’t known were those few coworkers who kept to themselves or spent the majority of their time in another state or country, like Paul Slater. “And no, she hasn’t been able to reach him. At least, that was the last I heard.”
“Gareth and I go way back, actually,” Smith divulged, his long-standing friendship with one of their biggest high net worth clients was common knowledge. “He rang me up last week, saying he’d overreacted to a situation recently. Cynthia took offense at some offhand comment he’d made. He wanted me to check on her.”
“Did Gareth happen to tell you exactly what it was that he’d said, because it might land your friend behind bars.”
“What are you talking about?” Smith hadn’t asked Gareth for details. That wasn’t how their kind of friendship worked, as it had more to do with respect than it did taking in a game on a Sunday afternoon. And as of late, his Sunday afternoons had been spent in bed with Laurel. “Are you implying Cynthia believes Gareth had something to do with Brad’s murder?”
“I’m saying that it’s possible that Marilyn might have taken a conversation out of context.” Grace’s knuckles had gone white, as if she were also worried about what Marilyn might have said during her interview. This was the problem with not being up front about situations. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a phone call to make, as well.”
Smith nodded, but he never took his eyes off the closed office door. He’d known Meg for years, as she was one of the many lawyers kept on retainer by his family. She was who he had chosen to see to his own personal and business dealings, though it was rare she was put in this type of position. He had no doubt that she could handle herself more than adequately, but it was her attitude toward Laurel that had him on edge at the moment.
Those two women were both very independent.
It was his belief that two type A personalities didn’t mix well together, but it appeared he had nothing to worry about. Both Laurel and Meg emerged from the firm’s small conference room looking more like friends than adversaries.
“Thank you, Ms. Preston.” Laurel held out her arm, shaking hands with Meg as if they’d just closed the most lucrative deal of the century.
“Please, call me Meg.” She pulled out a business card from the side of her briefcase, handing over her contact numbers with one of her rare smiles. “Don’t hesitate to call me should you need my services again. Smith, are you ready?”
No, he wasn’t ready to go into an interrogation where he would provide little information to a murder investigation he wanted nothing to do with. Brad Manon had not lived up to his name when Smith had begun working for Manon Investments. All the hype had been snuffed out the first week of his employment, especially after he’d had his first run-in with the mercurial man behind the fund.
“Laurel, I shouldn’t be long.” Smith closed the distance between them, wishing he could take away the dark blemishes underneath her lashes. She was running on little sleep, and he’d had a hand in that. “Please wait for me.”
“Smith, I’m going home. Alone.” Laurel reached up and brought her hair around so that it hung over her right shoulder. “I need some time…to sleep, to think, and to figure out what I’m going to do next. I’ll call you.”
Smith’s first reaction was that giving Laurel some space would only allow her time to rebuild the barriers he’d managed to chip away at last night and this morning. He’d meant every word when he said that he wanted to set their future on a different path. Yet, he could see the exhaustion in her pale features.
“I’ll be in touch soon, then.”
Laurel rested a hand on his dress shirt as he pulled her close, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Their three-month affair had been rather wild and passionate, leaving them breathless after each and every evening they spent together. It wasn’t something one walked away from. She’d kept him at arm’s length while he’d done all he could do not to allow her to pull away from him.
It was time for both of them to see their different sides.
“Get some rest.” Smith finally released her, hoping he was making the right decision in letting her go home alone. “We have a lot of important decisions ahead of us, sweetheart.”
Laurel snuck a glance at Meg, but neither woman commented on his declaration. It was more than apparent that Nielsen had overheard them as well, but again, Smith wasn’t concerned about anyone’s opinion regarding his personal life, not even the one remaining partner. Smith continued to monitor Laurel’s progress as she walked through the glass door. She didn’t have long to wait after pressing the elevator button and soon disappeared behind the sliding door.
“Shall we?” Meg patiently waited for Smith to finally enter the office where Detective Nielsen was waiting for them on one side of the conference table. The other detective was standing near a window overlooking South Marquette Avenue. He wasn’t someone Smith recognized, which was unusual seeing as the Gallos often hosted a charity dinner for local law enforcement agencies. “Detective, we’re ready when you are.”
“Smith, let’s forgo the formalities, shall we?” Fred Nielsen held back his tie as he took a seat behind the mostly empty table. This office was reserved for clients who had need for privacy, allowing them easy access to a phone, desk, and computer. “You previously stated that you were with Ms. Calanthe until after midnight. The coroner is placing Brad Manon’s death around ten o’clock last night. I’ll get right to the point. Do you know of anyone who would want to see Brad Manon dead for any reason at all?”
“Look, Manon wasn’t the easiest man to get along with,” Smith began, joining Fred in having a seat. Meg took the second guest chair, listening intently and ensuring that the questions asked and responses given were answered with his best interest in mind. “Manon had his share of enemies just as anyone in this business has. There were quite a lot of individuals who were envious of his current success, but he made it his business to hire the best and the brightest. He had a good team behind him, which would have guaranteed his future success.”
“Speaking of his team, was there anyone in the office behaving oddly or maybe even vocal about their dislike for Manon?”
“I would take whatever Marilyn says with a grain of salt,” Smith advised, crossing his leg as he settled in for the duration. “The trading desk consists of Steve Lewis and Joshua Green. Steve tends to be a little on the serious side, whereas Josh is the one who’s constantly mixing the sugar with salt. He likes to get a reaction. They’re very vocal about their likes and dislikes, and that includes attitudes about people around this place. But neither one of them has the ability to cut a man’s throat from ear to ear and watch him bleed out. And before you ask about the rumors of Manon being in debt, I honestly haven’t the slightest clue about his personal financial status.”
“What about Slater?” The other detective, who had been silent up to this point, finally turned his attention to those in the room. Smith took an immediate dislike to the man. “It’s our understanding that Paul wanted to bring in another managing partner.”
“I’m sorry,” Smith countered, meeting the man’s gaze without hesitation. It was also Smith’s way of delaying his response. He had no idea that Paul was thinking of doing something so drastic. “And who might you be?”
“I’m the detective who—”
“My partner,” Fred cut in, shooting his colleague a warning glance. “Smith, this is Detective Richard Mancini. He just transferred in from New York. He hasn’t been completely read in.”
Fred left out that because Mancini wasn’t from around here, he didn’t know all the movers and shakers, but that had been his intention. Smith honestly didn’t care about that. It was rare he used his surname to take advantage of anything, discounting yesterday when he’d done so in order to reach Laurel.
For her, pride could take a back seat.
Smith’s problem with Mancini was that he was too brash and had no time for anyone who couldn’t help him solve a case. At least, that’s the first impression Smith had gotten when he’d walked into the room.
“Well, Detective Mancini, let me set the record straight for you.” Smith held up his hand when Meg began to balk. Yes, it was her job to protect him. Yes, it was the reason she was kept on retainer by the Gallos. But he also understood that the police were at a loss as to why Manon was killed, and that any information at this point could be relevant. “I wasn’t aware of Paul bringing on another managing partner. Paul hasn’t been in the office much over the last few months nor did he confide in me.”
“And is that unusual?”
“Which? Him not confiding in me or the fact that he hadn’t bothered to come to the office very often? No to both,” Smith replied, giving a truthful observation on the behavior he’d seen during his employment here. “Paul is great at bringing in the money. He’s usually out with clients ninety percent of the time, whether on the golf course, having lunch, or just paying them a visit in Barbados. Brad was the one responsible for turning a profit on the money Paul had brought into the fund.”
“So it’s reasonable to say that you would benefit professionally by Manon’s death, considering you’d like to step into his shoes.” Detective Mancini went straight in for the kill, but his aim was a little off given that he wasn’t in possession of all the facts. Smith wasn’t caught unaware, having seen where this conversation was headed the moment the man opened his mouth. “Isn’t that right?”
“Meg?” Smith stood, bringing this particular questioning session to an end. He smoothed his tie before buttoning his suit jacket, not worried when Mancini stepped forward to block his exit. Better men than him had tried and failed to intimidate Smith by use of sheer will. “I’ll let you take over from here. Detective Mancini, it was…well, whatever it was.”
Smith never broke eye contact, waiting patiently for the detective to step aside. The man eventually rubbed his tongue across his lower lip as if he wanted to say something in protest, but he eventually gave in to the inevitable loss.
“Gentleman, my client came here in good faith, willing to answer any of your questions you may…”
Smith closed the door behind him with full confidence Meg would handle what had turned out to be a clusterfuck. He’d kept his private dealings just that…private. No phone calls were made at the office, no public meetings had taken place here in the city, and he honestly never had any intention of poaching from Manon Investments’ client list.
In hindsight, there was no possible way for Detective Mancini to have known of Smith’s plans regarding his intentions to open his own hedge fund unless Laurel let it slip during her time in that office. Yet Meg had been with her the entire time, ruling out that slim possibility due to her lack of objection to the detective’s misplaced accusation.
Had Laurel mentioned his plans to Grace? Maybe Cynthia? And they, in turn, said something during their time with the detectives?
It was possible, but highly unlikely.
Smith didn’t like the way this day was unfolding. Last night, Brad Manon had been killed and everyone had assumed it was because of the mountain of debt he’d found himself buried under. That had quickly spiraled to finger pointing and conspiracies.
Smith had lived the majority of his life being targeted because of his last name. The most vital question on the forefront now changed the course of this investigation.
Had Manon been murdered due to his own poor choices or was his death nothing more than a means to an end to bring Smith Gallo down?