Cross Purposes (A Barney Moon P.I. Novel Book 1) by Thomas B. Sawyer

Author:Thomas B. Sawyer [Sawyer, Thomas B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-01-13T05:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

“I gained from his death?” From behind his desk, Gareth Newman looked up at the homicide detectives. “Yeah, I guess if you call ending up with our auditors on my case, and his bitchy, formerly about-to-be-ex as my new partner a win…” Newman sat back in his desk chair, fingertips massaging his temples. Then: “But hey, that could only mean you’ve never met Carolyn Rhodes.”

“And…” Sgt. Santos finished tapping a text-note to himself, and eyed Newman. “…and you’ve got no idea why he might’ve been headed for Malibu this morning?”

“Not a clue — unless it was to catch a few waves.”

It took O’Hara a moment to realize Newman was attempting a joke. “Or who he might’ve been with, if anybody?”

The exhausted, near-overwhelmed executive shook his head. “And — and now I’m in business with that…? Christ, if I’d known I had a choice, I’d’ve probably killed myself. Or her. As it is, I just hope she’s still got some of what that prick stole, so I can recover it from her.”

“And as far as you know, is there anything besides money missing from the company? Computer stuff. Business secrets, that kinda thing.”

“Not — that I’m aware of, no...” Newman paused for a moment, while seeming to consider that one. “God, I hope not.”

Detective Sgt. Santos picked up on the flicker-reveal in Newman’s delivery. He was also aware of O’Hara’s growing, not very well-concealed anger/impatience. “And the murder of this recently dumped Cennotech employee, Stephen Guardino, what can you tell us about any connections between him and Mr. Rhodes?”

“As I said yesterday, he was Doug’s guy. I had nothing to do with him directly, and…” He gave them a combined slow head-shake and palms-spread shrug. “Gentlemen, if you need anything else, of course I’ll be available. But meantime, as you can imagine, I’ve got a lot of loose pieces to deal with and—”

O’Hara was unable to contain it any longer. He leaned in, face close to Newman’s: “Hey pal, you’re not talkin’ to a coupla bozos—”

“All right, Mr. Newman...” Santos caught O’Hara’s eye, jerked his head toward the door before refocusing on Newman, who was shaken by the younger detective’s move. “…You think of anything might be of interest, or anyone contacts you, get in touch.” The Sergeant thrust another business card at the executive. “In case you misplaced the first one…”

Newman took it, nodded. The two detectives exited his office.

As they emerged from the receptionist’s area into the corridor, Santos pulled the door shut behind them. Three steps toward the elevator, he whispered angrily: “You’re right. The sonofabitch is covering something.”

O’Hara tossed him a ‘no shit’ look. “So whadda we do about it? I mean waterboarding’s pretty much off the table. But we could maybe—”

“This outfit…” Santos waved at the premises. “…Rhodes’s murder, and the Guardino thing — they have gotta be way connected…” He jabbed at the elevator button. “And there is not a shred of fucking doubt in my head that a major part of the glue is that piece of shit New York PI and what he’s not telling us.

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