Honor Love: Saints Protection & Investigations Page 4

  “Right now, we’re collecting information and the investigation is in the early stages. But, since you brought it up, were you with her the night she went missing?”

  “Good God, no! I haven’t seen her outside of work in over six months. After she took over my position, we met up at a bar once. I was drinking alone and she came over and began drinking with me. She made it abundantly clear she wanted sex and we went back to her place. She was…well, she was…” he stopped and looked at Carlton.

  “Jesus, man, just say it. I know she slept with anyone and everyone. You’re not going to tarnish my image of her.”

  “Okay, she was really into it. Wanted it hard. Fast. Wanted me to slap her ass almost violently. She was totally in control and honestly…it wasn’t very good for me. We finished and I got the hell out of there.”

  “Do you have the names of others who have been with her?” Monty asked.

  “If you’re talking about at work, no. Her reputation was discussed, but no one admitted to having slept with her.”

  Carlton added, “Marcia worked hard, no doubt about it. But she also played hard. If you want to get more information, I’d suggest you check with some of the bartenders at the nicer bars in town. She frequented them and, from what I hear, generally did not leave alone.”

  Monty nodded, his mind considering the information. She may have left a bar with the wrong person this time. His suspicious thoughts realized that perhaps she was not missing…she may be dead.

  The interview continued for several more minutes until the sound of the Senator’s footsteps were heard coming down the hall.

  Carlton quickly said in a hushed voice, “Mr. Lytton, I know it seems like I’ve been ragging on Marcia. The honest to God truth is we were fairly close and I can’t believe she’s missing.” His voice broke as he continued, “But thinking she was some kind of angel won’t help you find her.”

  “You’re right,” Monty conceded. I know the Angel and it’s not Marcia Creston.

  The four men stood as the Senator came back into the room. Monty walked over, shaking his hand once again.

  “Donald, we’re finished here for the moment. We’ll be assisting the FBI and interviewing her friends and co-workers.”

  “I appreciate it. If there’s anything I can provide, please contact me.”

  Monty assured, “We’ll keep you apprised of our investigation.”

  *

  “So what do you think?” Jude asked as soon as they were driving down the Senator’s long driveway.

  “Not sure,” Monty answered honestly. “It’s not unusual for parents to extoll the virtues of their child, especially when their fear is so raw.”

  “And the cousin and the co-worker?”

  “Yeah, that bears more investigation. I’d like to know how close the cousins are. It seems as though Carlton had an axe to grind and wanted us to know the more sordid details of Marcia’s life.”

  “You want me to check on him and Scott?”

  “Absolutely,” Monty affirmed. “I’d like to know how Scott fits in with her at work and with the cousin.”

  “If you drop me off at my apartment, I’ll start seeing what I can dig up. I’ll call Luke and work with him. I can also check in with Bart and Cam to obtain their intel on Marcia’s workplace.”

  Within a few minutes, Monty dropped Jude off and, with a wave goodbye, he drove across town to the bakery. Parking, he walked toward the door, finding it locked. Peeking in through the front glass it was hard to see the interior, but it appeared no one was inside.

  “Who you looking for?” asked an elderly man with an apron tied around his rotund middle and a broom in his hands. Monty’s gaze moved to the sign above the storefront. Vito’s Pizzeria. The man’s eyes squinted from the late winter sun as he held one hand over his forehead to shade them as he peered at Monty.

  “I was looking for the owner of the bakery,” Monty said.

  “They’re closed,” came the reply.

  Monty looked at the dark, locked door with the Closed sign on the front. “Um, yeah, I figured that out.”

  “Heard one of the employees say that the owner closed for the day. Some personal crisis.”

  “You Vito?”

  The man grinned as he nodded. “Best damn pizza in Virginia. You should try it sometime.”

  Monty returned his grin, saying, “I might take you up on your offer.”

  Continuing to nod, Vito turned back to his sweeping. “You do that, young man. You do that.” Then, glancing toward the bakery, he added, “And bring the pretty owner with you when you come.”

  Thanking the man, Monty drove away, his mind meticulously turning over the few known facts of the case as he tried to tamper down his disappointment in not seeing Cupcake again. I’ve got to stop calling her that. Angel Cartwright. He could not decide which name fit her best…Angel or Cupcake.

  *

  That afternoon, the Saints met again at the compound. Bart and Cam had managed to get into Marcia’s apartment…after the FBI team had left.

  “Her place was nice. Really neat,” Bart said. “Without knowing her, I’d say she was a control freak.”

  Cam agreed, “She had the cans in her kitchen cabinets stacked perfectly and facing the same way.” This comment elicited a few raised eyebrows before he continued. “In the bathroom, her makeup drawer was organized. I don’t know about you, but I grew up sharing a bathroom with two sisters and am now married to a fairly neat woman and I’ve never seen a bathroom drawer full of makeup that was organized.”

  “The place certainly had decorations and pictures around and nothing looked out of place.”

  Jack added, “I heard from Mitch. It appears her place was wiped down. The few fingerprints found belonged to Marcia or her assistant.”

  “That could indicate someone had looked for something and wanted to get rid of fingerprints, but that theory sucks,” Marc said. “If an intruder was thorough enough to be looking all around the apartment for something, then they would have worn gloves.”

  “Cleaning service?” Monty asked.

  “Or maybe the assistant was trying to hide something. If she knew her boss was used to having men around, she wanted to get rid of the evidence?” Bart surmised.

  “Check both,” Monty ordered. “This evening I’m following up on a lead about some of the bars she was known to frequent. Marc, we’ll split them up. Bart, you and I will plan on going back to her office this afternoon for interviews. I want to know what the assistant has to say about everything. I don’t care if the FBI put her through the ringer yesterday, turn on your charm.”

  “Hey, I’m a happily engaged man,” Bart protested, shock on his face.

  “You’ve still got that Taggart charm,” Monty argued, teasing his co-worker. He grinned, adding, “Don’t sleep with her, just question her.”

  The men chuckled as Bart agreed, leaning back in his chair, a twinkle in his eyes. “You got it. She won’t know what hit her!”

  “Cam, find out what you can about who cleans her apartment and when. Interview whatever maid service she used.”

  Luke, downing a gulp of hot coffee, reported, “So far nothing suspicious is showing in her personal accounts. Her checking account is stable, although it shows she had a penchant for expensive shoes, boots, and purses. Other than that, it’s pretty normal. Her savings show that she definitely diversified. She had two saving accounts, one IRA, and several investment accounts. Only one is through her own company, so that’s interesting. I’m taking a deeper look later today to see what I can find.”

  Each with their assignments, the men went upstairs finding Bethany, Miriam, Sabrina, and Faith waiting on them. Bethany’s face beamed as soon as her eyes landed on Jack. The taciturn boss’ face broke into a smile as he walked over to embrace his wife. Kissing the top of her head, he noticed the food out on the long dining table. “You guys didn’t have to do this, babe,” he said. Her smile was his only answer as she snuggled into his arms for a quick hu
g.

  Monty watched the exchange, wondering if he would ever find that kind of relationship. His mind wandered over his typical date, trying to imagine them in this group. Nope, can’t do it, he thought ruefully. For an instant, he thought of Claire and knew she would never be able to be one of the Saint’s women. As he gazed at the other couples, he found himself longing for something more than his solitary existence.

  Miriam, wearing blue, maternity nursing scrubs, waddled over to Cam. She was dwarfed by her massive husband as he picked her up gently, placing a chaste kiss on her lips. He whispered in her ear and she giggled, nervously looking around the group. Swatting his shoulder, she continued to blush as he set her down.

  Sabrina winked at her cousin before greeting her fiancé, Jude. “What have you ladies been up to?” he asked, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Wedding planning,” Sabrina replied. Bethany’s wedding venue business next door to Jack’s secure property had been the perfect place for their upcoming nuptials. “I know we want simple, but Nonnie’s gonna want her hand in things if I don’t take charge.”

  Nodding his agreement that Sabrina and Bart’s grandmother was a force to be reckoned with, he said, “It’s our wedding. Babe, you do whatever you want.”

  The group headed to the table to load their plates before moving back into the large living room. The room’s floor to ceiling windows illuminated the Blue Ridge Mountains in the vista while allowing the light to pour over the group. The oversized furniture surrounding the two-story stone fireplace easily held the gathering.

  Bart saw the concerned expression on Faith’s face and moved over to embrace her as well. “What’s up, princess?”

  Faith’s long dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail that hung low behind her as she lifted her head to search his face. “I know you’re working on something important. I was wondering…well, if you needed me to try to help?”

  Bart’s gaze met Jack’s over the top of Faith’s head, silently communicating his feelings. Jack shook his head firmly and Bart turned his attention back to his girlfriend. The men had already discussed—and rejected—the idea of Faith assisting them on cases. Her extraordinary ability of sight had almost gotten her killed on their last major case and the men did not want a repeat performance.

  “Princess, Jack and the rest of us agree that you’re not on Saint’s payroll. Right now, we’re investigating a missing person but, I promise, if you get any insights, then tell me and I’ll handle it.”

  Smiling, her arms tightened around his trim waist as she placed her cheek against his heartbeat. “Come on, let’s eat,” she said.

  The group quickly ate, the topics of discussion remaining firmly off the case as they enjoyed the easy banter and camaraderie. As soon as the meal was over, they dispersed. Monty and Bart headed out, determined to find out what Colonial Financial employees had to say about their boss.

  *

  Angel walked to the back door of her bakery having let out the last of her employees. The front door was already closed and locked. “Sorry guys, I’ll put the rest of the cupcakes in the freezer and we should be back in business tomorrow.”

  “You sure you’re all right?” asked Helen, one of her most loyal employees.

  She smiled although it did not reach her eyes as she answered, “Yeah, I just have something I need to do tonight. You know, a night to forget all my troubles.”

  “Sure thing,” her cashier grinned. “I hope you get a little horizontal action while you’re forgetting.”

  Rolling her eyes, she locked the door. Pulling out her cell phone, she moved her thumb over the keys and stared at the text that came up. Heaving a sigh, she walked out of the back, locking the door to the alley before heading to her car. Time to get ready for the evening.

  Chapter 5

  The afternoon proved difficult. While Bart attempted to charm information from the indomitable assistant, Monty interviewed several of the members of the office. Scott was present and introduced him to the other employees.

  “We’re a small office, but I can set you up in the conference room, if you’d like,” Scott offered.

  Nodding his agreement, Monty quickly moved through the employees. On the surface, everyone expressed concern about Marcia’s absence. He got the impression that while they assumed something was wrong, since they all reported that missing work or an important meeting was unheard of for their boss, he could also tell that she was not a popular boss.

  She’s driven and expects everyone else to be just as driven…as long as they don’t try to take over her position, Monty recalled one employee stating. He pondered what he had learned so far while waiting for the next interviewee.

  An elderly gentleman walked in, shaking his hand, nervously glancing at Monty, who immediately got down to business. He had no time or inclination for pleasantries when a person was missing.

  “She came on time and worked until the day was over. Can’t say she ever slacked when on the job. She was an excellent broker and good with clients. Smart, sharp, intuitive with the business. But…” Marcia’s co-worker’s voice drifted off as he squirmed in his seat.

  “But?” Monty prompted.

  Shaking his head, the older man colored slightly. “Mr. Lytton, I know I’m old school and getting near retirement. I know these younger folks have a different way of seeing things. I understand that, but it’s still hard to fight against your way of thinking when you’re my age.”

  “What are you referring to, Mr. Johnston?”

  The man looked down at his hands clenched together on the table, struggling in an inner battle.

  “The truth of the matter is that Marcia is about my daughter’s age. So I’m familiar with the modern woman, but I guess I’m still stuck in the dark ages. She had a reputation.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. His face blushing, he admitted, “In my day, we’d have called her a slut.” Rushing on, he hastily corrected, “I’m embarrassed to say that because, in my day, a man could sow his wild oats and we thought nothing of it. So I know it’s a double standard, but honestly…well…I was uncomfortable with what I’d hear at the office.”

  “Others talk from facts or just rumors?” Monty asked.

  “Hard to tell, but a lot of the young folks around here will frequent bars after hours. It gives them a chance to unwind and be with their friends. Hell, they even make business deals there the way we did at the golf courses back in my day.” He chuckled nervously before sobering as he shook his head. “I thought of trying to work another year before retiring, Mr. Lytton. But I’ll be honest, her missing is turning into a sordid deal around here. The scuttlebutt is that she went off with some lover. The whole thing makes me just…sad.”

  “I appreciate your candor,” Monty replied honestly.

  The gentleman stood, leaning over to shake Monty’s hand. “It’s been really difficult around here. Marcia was not a popular boss, only because she was driven and didn’t mind stepping on a few people to get to the top. But to harm her? I don’t see anyone in this office doing that.” He walked to the door slowly, patted the doorframe for a second and added, “Yes, indeed. I think it’s time to retire.”

  Monty found the rest of the employees saying essentially the same thing that Mr. Johnston had eluded to. He met with Bart outside and they walked to his SUV.

  “You get anything out of the assistant, Ms. Bartley?”

  “Nope. She locked down everything as tightly as she could. As an assistant, she’s perfect. No one will get past her to get to the boss. According to her, Marcia was a saint and the others in the office were just jealous.”

  “Did she have any ideas as to where Marcia might be?”

  “No. She’s the one who called the Senator to alert him that Marcia did not come to work. And she’s plenty pissed that the others seem to be more interested in smearing the boss’ reputation.”

  After dropping Bart off at his house, Monty drove home. Fixing a bite to eat, he stood at his bank of
windows for a moment. He wanted nothing more than to find the elusive Cupcake but knew that would have to wait until tomorrow. Time to hit the bars. Sighing as he grabbed his keys from the table next to the door, he headed back out into the night.

  *

  The evening had proven to be informative, if not eventful. Monty had made the rounds to several of the higher-class bars and restaurants with bars, showing a picture of Marcia to the bartenders. Most recognized her and admitted that she frequented them once a month or so. She tipped well and, if she met with men, they noticed but did not care.

  “Look, mister, there’s nothing wrong with a woman picking up a man at a bar. Men’ve been doing it forever,” was the response from most.

  Before walking into Eclipse, the last one of the night, he called Marc and discovered that his experience had been the same.

  “Seems like she was known to be a woman on the take,” Marc commented, “But no one spoke ill of her.”

  “Yeah, it appears that tipping very well helped seal the eyes, ears, and lips of many a bartender,” Monty added. “You head on home, I’ve got one more place I want to check out, and truthfully, plan on sitting for a while and actually enjoying a drink. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Disconnecting, he walked through the thick, amber glass door of the last bar, entering the upscale establishment. He had been a customer here before and admitted to himself this was why he chose it last. A quiet interior with soft music playing in the background provided a nice contrast to a few of the noisier bars with live bands that he had been to. Making his way over the plush carpet toward the dark wooden, highly polished bar he selected a stool near the end. It sat in the shadows and allowed him a chance to rest his back against the wall. Eyeing a table nearby, he was determined to ask his questions and then settle in a seat to enjoy his drink.

  He caught the eye of the bartender and, pulling out the picture of Marcia, he slid it forward as he ordered his drink. The bartender’s eyes flashed recognition and he lifted his gaze up to Monty.