“You got the gun, too?” asked Chase, cocking an eyebrow.
Brettin laughed.“Now that I don’t got, Chief.”
“We have a question for you, Mr. Brettin,” said Odelia.
“Please call me Olaf,” said Brettin.
“The thing is, remember I asked you about the picture of a rose that was found near Dickerson’s body?”
“Uh-huh. And I told you that doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Your daughter… died a couple of years ago, didn’t she?”
She was studying a painting on the wall that depicted a beautiful young woman.
“She did,” said Brettin, his joviality slightly diminished now.
“I watched a video of the eulogy you gave at her funeral. You called her your rose.”
Brettin’s smile had completely dimmed. “Laviniawas my rose. The light of my life. When she died I thought I’d die, too. I didn’t, even though a part of me did die that day.”
“What happened?” asked Chase, a softness to his voice Odelia appreciated.
“She… took her own life, Detective. A, um, video was made—silly thing.” He was staring off now. “She was young, and in love, I guess. And you know how young people are. They’re into making these… selfies and things.” He swallowed. “So she made one of those sex tapes. Nothing unusual about that. She and this boy she was seeing, they were really into each other. There was even talk of an engagement. She’d introduced him to us—me and Abbey. That’s my wife Abbey over there,” he said, indicating another portrait, this one depicting a strikingly handsome woman with clear blue eyes.
“So she made the tape,” prompted Chase when Brettin stopped talking.
“Yes, she did. And somehow that tape got out. Someone hacked Lavinia’s phone, found the tape, and a bunch of pictures, and threatened to post everything online.”
“That’s horrible,” said Odelia.
“Yes, it was,” said Brettin. “Lavinia, of course, was shattered.”
“Was this a blackmail thing?” asked Chase.
“Yes. But not aimed at Lavinia. Aimed at me. You see, I was making inroads in markets that had previously mainly been Dickerson’s province. The Midwest, for one. And he didn’t like it. And Dickerson being who he was, he decided to play dirty. So he had someone hack my phone but probably didn’t find the kind of dirt he was looking for so he extended the hacker’s scope to my family, my wife and daughter. He must have been over the moon when he discovered that private video and pictures. Pay dirt,” he scoffed bitterly.
“Are you sure this was Dickerson?” asked Odelia.
“Oh, yes. He called me. This was the day after Lavinia had gotten the message about the video being posted online. Dickerson said a little birdie had dropped that same video into his mailbox, and how he wanted to express his concern from one family man to another.”
“He actually threatened you?”
“No, of course not. Dickerson was too smart for that. He just wanted me to know that he had the video, and that if I didn’t back off, he was going to have it posted online.”
“That’s… criminal,” said Chase, shaking his head.
“You should have reported him to the police,” said Odelia.
Brettin looked sad.“What was there to report? That Dickerson had received an anonymous message from the creep who’d hacked my daughter’s phone? I get anonymous tips every day. Pictures, videos—heck, it’s part of the tabloid business model. ‘We pay cash for videos.’ Dickerson would have made damn sure nothing connected him to the hacker.”
“But you knew he was behind the hack.”
“Oh, yes. And he knew I knew. That was his whole spiel.” His expression softened. “One week later Lavinia took her own life. She couldn’t live with the knowledge that that video was out there. I told her I’d take care of it. That no one would ever see it. She must not have believed me. And seeing the line of work I’m in, maybe she was right not to trust me.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Odelia. She felt for the man. This was a horrible story. And showed what a ruthless crook Dickerson had been.
“I blame myself, you know,” said Brettin. “I was Dickerson’s target, and my beautiful flower got caught in the crossfire. And so did my wife. Abbey never recovered. She died six months later. Her heart simply gave up. They say you can’t die from a broken heart but I can assure you that you can. The only reason my own heart is still beating is probably because I’m too stubborn to die. But a big part of me died the day I buried my daughter—my rose.”
“So… did you have Dickerson killed, Mr. Brettin?” asked Odelia softly.
He glanced up, then shook his head.“I’m not a killer, Odelia. Even though I’m glad someone took the law into their own hands, it wasn’t me.”
“But… the rose.”
“I’m not the first person Dickerson destroyed. There are countless others. And I’ll bet lots of people use the image of the rose to refer to a loved one. No, you’re barking up the wrong tree, Odelia—Detective. I may have wished Dickerson harm, but I didn’t act on it.”
Just then, the editor’s phone jangled and he picked it up from the table with a frown. “Yes, Mr. Paunch,” he said, much to Odelia’s surprise. She hadn’t heard from President Wilcox’s friend in quite a while, and had hoped he’d lost her number. “Is that a fact? No, I didn’t know the President was the youngest billionaire in history. That is news to me.” He rolled his eyes at Odelia. “So it’s official? President Wilcox is Sexiest President Alive? That’s quite an achievement. I didn’t even know such a category existed. Yes, I will mention it in the next issue of theDaily Inquirer, Mr. Paunch. And give my regards to the President.”
“Was that Otto Paunch?” asked Odelia.
“Oh, you know Mr. Paunch?”
“He’s been calling me non-stop with little tidbits about the President.”
“Did you know President Wilcox has been voted Sexiest President Alive three years in a row?”
“He also has the softest hair,” said Odelia. “Soft like a baby’s bottom, I’ve been told.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” said Brettin with a smile.
“I thought the President only worked with theNational Star?”
“Oh, I think he works with any publication that will sing his praises.”
“But he was very chummy with Dick Dickerson, wasn’t he?”
“He used to be,” Brettin acknowledged.
Dua Lipa demanded Odelia’s attention by belting out her signature tune and she was surprised to see it was her uncle.
“Uncle Alec?”
“Hey, honey. Look, there’s some kind of fracas going on downtown.”
“Downtown? You’re back?”
“Just arrived. It’s your cats, Odelia. They’re trying to tell me something but you know I don’t speak feline. You better get down here ASAP. It looks serious.”
Chapter 45
Milo had just dozed off when Harriet came in, all atwitter. She motioned for me and Dooley to meet her in the backyard. The moment we set foot outside, convening amongst the mounds of dirt Grandma had dug up, she cried,“It’s Brutus! He’s gone!”
“Gone? Gone where?” I asked.
She gave us a pained look.“The pound!”
“Why would Brutus go to the pound?” asked Dooley. “Does he know cats there?”
“No, he doesn’t know cats there, Dooley! He just kept telling me the pound is paradise and how I should come with him—to escape Max’s reign of terror!”
“My reign of terror?” I asked. “I don’t have a reign—and definitely not one of terror.”
“He seems to think you’re some kind of dictator. And that we’re your slaves. He said the only way to escape this prison camp is to head down to the pound—where cats are cats and are free to live their lives untethered by the chains you bind us with.”
This was all news to me. I didn’t even know how to lay my paws on a pair of chains. “This all sounds very suspicious to me,” I told Harriet. “Where would I even get chains?”