I jotted down her name and number and then picked up the phone and dialed.
“Hello?” the voice on the other end said.
“This is Sloane Monroe. Is this Audrey?”
“Thanks for getting back to me so fast,” she said.
“No problem, what can I do for you?”
“I got your number from Mr. Langston,” she said.
“Oh?”
“I’d like to hire you,” she said.
“What can I do for you?”
“I don’t want to get into it over the phone if you don’t mind.”
“Why don’t you stop by my office and we can talk?”
She paused.
“That would be…that would be great,” she said.
“When would you like to come in?”
“Would today work?” she said.
“I can do that. Is two o’clock alright?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect, see you then.”
I put the phone down and interlaced my fingers behind my head and leaned back in my chair. I wondered how she knew Marty and why she sounded so uptight over the phone. My questions would be answered soon enough.
CHAPTER 4
At one forty-five I changed from my bare feet into a pair of brown suede pumps I kept around as a backup for occasions like this one. The door jingled when it opened and in walked DD dressed in a pair of bootcut jeans, a long white tunic sweater, and white lace-up snow boots. She concealed her eyes behind a pair of sunglasses which she swept over her head when she entered. Her eyes were puffy and a reddish color. She gave me a half smile and then pivoted on her heel and shifted her gaze to the exuberant Lord Berkeley, who sprung from his bed and ran circles around her feet.
“Oh, what a cutie,” she said. “Maltipoo?”
“Westie.”
Lord Berkeley noticed her sentiments toward him and put his best paw forward. She bent down and picked him up.
“Sorry about that,” I said, “normally I don’t bring him to the office when I meet with clients.”
“Oh, don’t even worry about it. He’s adorable.”
She ran her fingers up and down his body a few times and nuzzled his nose and then placed him back down in his bed. Lord Berkeley, the perfect icebreaker.
I motioned to the chair opposite my desk. She sat down and rested her hands on her jeans.
“Can I get you anything?” I said. “Water, tea, coffee?”
“Water’s good.”
I grabbed one out of the mini fridge next to my desk and handed it to her.
“I’m not sure what I’m even doing here.”
“I recognize you from Wildwood,” I said.
“That’s right, I saw you with Mr. Langston. I really should apologize. It wasn’t my intention to eavesdrop, but I gathered from your conversation that you were a private investigator, and after what happened yesterday, I thought maybe you could help.”
“Were you there when the accident took place?” I said.
The color drained from her face. She twisted the cap off the water and took a sip and then another. For a moment she didn’t say a word and just gazed at the wintery view out my office window. I sat in silence and waited until she was ready.
“The woman who died yesterday, Charlotte Halliwell…”
Tears welled up in her eyes and her hands quivered. I reached for a tissue and handed it to her.
“She was my sister,” she said.
I thought of my own sister and for a moment the past flooded back to me and flashes of memories filled my head. I pressed my eyes shut and then opened them again and tried to focus on Audrey.
“I’m sorry, I had no idea,” I said. “Take all the time you need.”
She angled back in my chair and turned to the side and dabbed her eyes with the tissue.
“I need a minute to get myself together.”
I nodded and waited.
A few minutes went by in silence and then she calmed down and displayed much of the composure she exhibited when she first entered my office. When I felt she could handle my questions I continued.
“Why don’t we start from the beginning?” I said.
“You mind if I smoke?” she said.
I did mind, a lot in fact. But I also realized if she had a cigarette it might allow her to keep it together, for the moment anyway. My office was devoid of ashtrays, but I managed to find a small glass dish in one of my drawers. I took it out and slid it toward her side of the desk.
Audrey reached into her bag and pulled out a narrow cigarette and rested it on the edge of her lips. She cupped the lighter in her hands and lit up. She took a long drag, cocked her head to one side, and spewed forth a stream of smoke. I resisted the urge to plant my fist under my nose and instead cracked the window.
“I went to Wildwood yesterday to meet my sister for lunch. We had talked on the phone the night before, and she said she wanted my advice and needed to talk to me about something and suggested we get together after she finished skiing for the day, but she never showed. After you left, Mr. Langston called me into his office and told me what happened.”
“I see.”
“It doesn’t make any sense.”
“You’ve experienced a shock. It’s understandable that things don’t make sense right now,” I said. “I know what you’re going through.”
And I did.
She took another drag from her cigarette and then smashed it into the plate.
“You don’t understand. Everyone says it was an accident, but what if it wasn’t?”
She looked me in the eye and gauged my reaction. I tried not to look perplexed, but in truth, I couldn’t believe what she’d said.
“Do you have reason to believe otherwise?” I said.
“I thought so, but now I’m confused. It’s hard to separate my head from my heart right now, you know?”
She sunk down in my chair and tapped her finger on the side of her face.
“Oh to hell with this,” she said, “you want the truth? I’m going to say it like it is. And if you want to believe I’m a nut job, that’s up to you. But I need to get it off my chest before I explode.”
“Go on,” I said.
“I don’t believe it was an accident. In fact, I know it wasn’t. My sister was murdered.”
CHAPTER 5
Audrey’s alleged murder declaration piqued my interest. I mulled it over for a few minutes before I constituted a response.
“Forgive me, I’m not trying to discount what you are saying,” I said, “but from what I understand your sister ran into a tree while skiing and the cops said it was nothing more than an unfortunate accident.”
“I know how it looks,” she said. “I discussed this with the cops already and they laughed it off like I’d just escaped from the loony bin. My sister wasn’t some newbie. She started skiing at the age of two.”
“I don’t mean any disrespect, but even experienced skier’s crash now and then,” I said.
“Did you know when she was around twenty she went to the World Championships, twice? Twice! She has a silver medal in downhill for heaven’s sake. Charlotte was familiar with the terrain at Wildwood; she skied there almost every day.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said.
She took her hand and gestured toward the window.
“Look out there,” she said.
I turned toward the window and saw nothing. Maybe she was crazy.
“Take a good look. Nothing but blue skies all week. Now you tell me, how does someone with her experience run into a tree on a clear day?”
She bounced her shoulders up and down.
“I guess that doesn’t point to murder though,” she said. “You probably agree with the cops.”
In all my years as a PI, no one had ever presented a case like this to me. I wasn’t sure what to do with it.
“Can I ask you some questions?” I said.