Josh Preston left the office shortly before five. Cabot waited for him just outside the exit door of the building’s underground garage. When Preston brought his very distinctive, very expensive sports car to a halt to check traffic before pulling out onto the street, Cabot walked to the driver’s-side window, wallet open, his investigator’s license in full view.
Preston looked wary, but he lowered the window. “Who are you?”
“I’ve been hired to investigate the death of a certain person. The death may or may not be linked to the death of Sandra Porter. I’d like to talk to you about it.”
“Shit. The cops haven’t said anything about another murder.”
“It might be a case of suicide. That’s what I’m trying to confirm.”
“You think one of my employees is involved?”
“I have no reason to think that – not yet, at any rate. At this point I’m just trying to gather some facts. See, here’s the problem: Sandra Porter was killed in my client’s place of business.”
“What the hell?”
“I’m sure you can understand why I’m looking for a connection to Night Watch.”
“The police are investigating Sandra Porter’s murder,” Josh said.
“Yes, but they aren’t interested in my case because they are convinced it was suicide.”
Josh snorted softly. “But your client thinks otherwise, right?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know what I can tell you,” Josh said. “I was not aware that anyone else connected to Night Watch has died.”
“The victim may not have had a connection. That’s what I’m trying to establish. I’ll only take a few minutes of your time.”
Josh hesitated, fingers dancing uneasily on the steering wheel. His jaw clenched. Then he nodded once.
“There’s a bar where we can talk privately.” Josh rattled off the name and the street. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Thanks,” Cabot said.
He stepped back, tucked his wallet inside his jacket and walked to his SUV. He opened the door and got behind the wheel. Virginia watched him from the passenger seat.
“Well?” she asked.
“Preston agreed to talk to us. We’re going to meet him at a bar in a few minutes.”
“You were right about the curiosity factor.”
“Works almost every time, but in this case I think we had something else going for us.”
“What?”
“I got the impression that Preston is nervous.”
“What did you expect? A recently fired employee was murdered and the police are questioning the people who work for him. Any CEO would be concerned. For all Preston knows, he may have a killer on the payroll.”
“There’s that,” Cabot conceded. He fired up the big engine and eased the SUV away from the curb. “But I think there’s more to it than just the natural concern about a murder investigation.”
Preston was waiting for them in a corner booth at the back of the quiet bar. His phone was on the table. There was a martini in front of him. It looked like a double. He scowled when he saw Virginia.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked. “You didn’t say anything about bringing someone else along to this meeting.”
“I’m Virginia Troy,” Virginia said. “Sandra Porter was murdered in the back room of my shop. Mr. Sutter is working for me.”
Josh gave her a curt, appraising look. “So you’re the client.”
“Yes.”
Josh considered that briefly and then nodded once. “All right. Sit down. Tell me what you’ve got.”
Cabot pulled out a chair for Virginia and then sat down beside her.
“That isn’t how it works,” he said to Josh. “We’re here to exchange information.”
Josh hesitated and then nodded. “Fine. You want drinks?”
“No, thanks,” Virginia said very politely.
Cabot shook his head. “Can you give us some idea of why you fired Sandra Porter?”
Josh pondered that for a moment and then shrugged. “Technically, she resigned. But, yes, she was forced out. It’s not exactly a state secret. I’ve already told the cops. Porter was good at her job but my HR people say that there was a dramatic change in her behavior in recent weeks. There were rumors that she was involved with drugs. On top of everything else, I hear she was in a relationship that ended badly and that she was probably depressed. Now, what have you got for me?”
“Not a lot,” Cabot said. “I can tell you that Hannah Brewster, the woman whose death I’m investigating, was an artist. Several of her works are stored in a closet in the back room of Ms. Troy’s gallery. When we found Porter’s body, the door of that closet was open.”
“Huh.” Josh considered that for a few beats. “I can see why you’re asking questions, but I can’t give you much help. I just don’t know of any connection between Porter and the death of that artist. What kind of art did Brewster do? Sculpture? Glass?”
“Paintings,” Cabot said.
Josh got a speculative look. “Were they valuable? Maybe if Porter was into drugs, she figured she could steal Brewster’s pictures?”
“There’s no market for Hannah Brewster’s paintings,” Virginia said coolly. “At least not that I’ve ever been able to find.”
Josh swallowed some of his martini and set the glass down on the table with more force than necessary.
“There’s nothing more I can tell you,” he said. “If that’s all you’ve got, this meeting is over.”
“We’ve heard that there are rumors of financial problems at Night Watch,” Cabot said.
Josh froze, stone-faced. “Where are you going with this?”
“When did you first realize that someone in-house was embezzling from you?” Cabot asked.
For a moment Virginia didn’t think that Josh was going to respond. Then he seemed to deflate.
“A few weeks ago,” he said. “Why?”
“Think Sandra Porter was the embezzler?” Cabot asked.
“No,” Josh said grimly. “Or if she was, she’s continuing to work from beyond the grave. I checked my financials an hour ago. More money has disappeared into the ether.”
“Maybe she was working with someone else,” Cabot suggested.
Josh frowned. “A partner who killed her? I’ll admit that possibility did occur to me.”
Cabot put his business card down on the table. “If you think of anything else I should know or if you want me to refer you to a very discreet cybersecurity firm who can investigate the embezzling, give me a call.”
Josh pocketed the card without looking at it. “Do me a favor. If, in the course of your investigation, you happen to turn up any leads on who is siphoning off money from my business, will you let me know?”
“Depends,” Cabot said.
“On what?”
“Whether or not it turns out to be a conflict of interest.”
Josh frowned. “How the hell could there be a conflict of interest?”
“You never know. But if there isn’t one and if I do get a lead on your embezzler, I’ll be sure to send you my bill.”
Josh gave him a curt nod. “Fair enough. You get me some answers and you’ll get your money.”
“Out of curiosity, any idea of where I should start looking for a potential embezzler?” Cabot asked.
Josh drummed his fingers on the table. “I ran my own investigation. Took a close look at everyone in my accounting department and in the IT department. Figured the thief had to be someone who knew how to move money around.”
Virginia leaned forward. “Did you find anything?”
“No. But now I’m starting to wonder if I’m overlooking some possible suspects simply because I didn’t think they had the skill set required to rip me off. But if one of them was working with Porter, who certainly did have the skill set —”
“Got a name?” Cabot asked.
Josh hesitated. “There’s a writer in our social media department, Kate Delbridge. There’s nothing I can put my finger on, but something about her makes me wonder if she might be involved in the embezzlement.”
Virginia raised her brows. “Because she’s the last person you’d suspect?”
“No. Because several months ago we had a weekend fling while on a business trip to San Francisco. I warned her going in that I wasn’t interested in a serious relationship. Told her the ground rules – if she breathed a word about it at the office, I’d have to let her go. She seemed okay with that, but now I’m starting to wonder if she wants revenge. I can’t get a read on her.”
“Does she have the skills to embezzle and not get caught?” Cabot asked.
Josh shook his head. “No, I’m sure of that much. But it doesn’t mean she wasn’t working with Porter. Maybe she knows enough to keep the scheme running even though Porter is dead. Hell. I knew I should have fired Delbridge when we got back from that trip.”
“Why not let her go now?” Cabot asked.
Josh snorted softly. “Ever hear the old adage, ‘Keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer’? If Kate is fleecing me, I’d rather have her where I can keep an eye on her.”
“Got any other suspects?” Cabot asked.
Josh’s jaw tightened. “Maybe. But I’m not ready to give you another name. Not yet.”