“What took you so long?” the man standing behind the large desk snapped.
Well, hello to you, too, Colin thought. He studied the tall man in the very expensive-looking suit. His assessment stalled at the man’s gray eyes; he’d seen warmer eyes on a python. Score one for Mrs. Carter, he thought. Cold was definitely the word. The chief operating officer of the Gardner Corporation was clearly a man used to being the boss. And pity the underlings, Colin added to himself.
“We’re working our way down the possible suspect list,” Colin said bluntly.
“Suspect list!” The eruption came just as he’d expected.
“Of course,” Wilson put in with an icy cool that would have done Cecelia Gardner proud. “You’re merely another name on it. We’ve eliminated several, we’re hoping to eliminate you.”
Reicher looked torn, as if uncertain whether to react to her placating words, or the disdain with which she spoke them. Silently Colin congratulated his new partner; he doubted Reicher often was at such a loss.
“As Detective Wilson said, we’re here to eliminate you from the list. So if you can just tell us where you were last night?”
“I was right here. Working late, as I often do.”
“Can anyone verify that?”
He turned on Wilson as she spoke. “My word isn’t good enough for you, Ms…Detective?”
To his own surprise, Colin took offense for her. But he said nothing, knowing she had to learn how to handle such things herself. Which, with her next words, she did quite effectively.
“Absolutely good enough for me, Mr. Reicher.” Her tone was sweet now. “I wouldn’t presume to doubt you without evidence. It’s just not good enough for the D.A., a judge and a jury.”
Reicher seemed to accept her new approach, but Colin had the strangest feeling he should have taken it as a sign to be even more careful.
“John, my assistant, can verify I was here. I’m afraid I kept him quite late on a project I’ve been trying to wind up.”
She continued her questioning. “As COO, you’d be aware of any business enemies Mr. Gardner might have?”
“Enemy enough to commit murder? I would be, if he had any. You’re wasting time if that’s your angle.”
“No deals that fell through, or hostile takeovers?”
“No. I told you you’re wasting your time. You should be looking for a dope-crazed burglar. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do. Franklin ’s death has caused a bit of chaos.”
Colin said nothing until they were back in the elevator and the doors had closed behind them.
“A dope-crazed burglar,” he repeated.
“Oh, please,” Wilson groaned.
“You don’t buy it?”
“I don’t buy that any doper would leave all that portable wealth behind. He’d take everything he could stuff in his pockets and then start filling the pillowcases.”
Okay, she does have it, he thought.
“What do you think of misters Gardner and Reicher?”
“One’s an arrogant bully and the other’s a cold, pompous snake. You pick which is which.”
Interesting that she’d thought snake just as he had. “With those eyes? No question, Reicher’s the reptile.”
They headed to the car for the trip back to the penthouse building to check on the videotapes. When they arrived, he parked in the loading zone in front, slapped an identifying placard on the dash, and they headed for the door.
“Where’s the equipment?” she asked.
“The basement.”
She nodded, and they took the stairs down.
The basement was as utilitarian as the rest of the building was elegant. Cool and a bit dim, it took up barely a third of the building’s footprint. The rest, he guessed, was given over to the parking garage that housed what was likely a fleet of vehicles as elite as their owners.
They stepped into a wide hallway. Off to the left were two doors labeled Maintenance and Utilities. To the right was a single, unmarked door. Without a word, they both turned that direction. As they got closer Colin saw light coming from under the door. He tried the knob, but it was, as he expected, locked. He rapped twice on the metal door.
For a moment there was only silence, but finally the sound of footsteps came from the other side of the door. After another moment, it opened. The man who handled the security cameras stood there, and Colin didn’t like the expression on his face.
“Something wrong, Mr. Bergen?”
“I…it’s impossible. It’s never happened before. I don’t know how… The equipment was fine when I got here, but…”
Something way down in Colin’s gut knotted. “But…?”
“The tape for last night…”
The man swallowed tightly, his eyes flicking nervously from Colin to Wilson.
“What about it?” Colin asked, his voice very quiet because he already knew the answer.
Bergen swallowed again.
“It’s gone.”
Chapter 4
“N ow what do you suppose the odds are of that particular tape, and that tape only, going missing?” Waters mused aloud as they made their way into the station. Their quick run to the younger Gardner ’s private college had netted them only the fact that it didn’t take long if you drove fast; the youngest Gardner had been off campus.
Darien shifted Gardner ’s laptop, the evidence they were here to book, to her other arm. “About the same as the Cubs winning the World Series,” she muttered, without thought starting up the stairs for the detective office, even carrying the extra few pounds of the computer.
“Or less. If that’s possible,” Waters added with a quirk of his mouth as he started up with her.
“So, does that narrow us down to residents and their families? Those who knew about the cameras and where the recording equipment was?” Darien asked.
“And everyone from the security company. And anyone any of them might have told.”
“Or anybody who went looking, I suppose,” she said. “It wouldn’t be tough to figure out it would be in the basement. And we knew instantly the unlabeled door had to be it.”
“Exactly.”
They reached the Detective Bureau door, and Waters leaned around her to open the door. She’d long ago given up making an issue out of such things-she’d found too often they were a test of sorts-but when she stepped through she turned and held the door for him as he followed. He accepted the gesture without comment, and she wasn’t sure if she’d passed this test. If indeed it had been a test.
“Hey, if it isn’t the two-W detective team of Waters and the lovely Miss Darien. What have you two been up to in the stairway? Don’t you know it’s easier in an elevator?”
“Oh, joy,” Darien muttered. Then she flashed a quick look at Waters, hoping the mustached Detective Palmer, a man she’d only recently met but still could only describe as rude, crude and obnoxious, wasn’t his best buddy.
“Well, now, if it isn’t every woman’s dream come true,” Waters drawled.
“Hey, hey, you know they love me,” Palmer said, in jovial tones, proving to Darien what she’d already thought, that the man was too stupid to even know when he was being insulted. “You’re not the only chick magnet around here.”
Oh, puhleeze, Darien thought. “Excuse me,” she said. “I must be a matching pole.”
Palmer looked blank, but she caught Waters’s quick, appreciative grin just before she tried sidestepping around the sleaze to head for her desk.
“I’d take it easy, honey,” Palmer said, his voice taking on a nasty undertone. He gave the computer she carried a look of disdain. “There’s a lot of people not very happy that you got this spot over guys who deserved it more. A lot of people asking why. And how.”
She stopped in her tracks. She knew exactly what he was implying, that she had slept her way here. She turned, and gave the man a level gaze.