Secret

Everyone has a secret
But can they keep it
Oh, no they can't

 

The tinkling sound of the bell was intended to alert the employees that a customer had entered the tiny showroom of Botany and Blossoms. However, on this particular afternoon, there was only silence to greet the intruder.

“Marta?” Trixie’s questioning voice was tentative as she approached the counter and peered towards the backroom. She was familiar with the store’s layout, but had always been greeted immediately upon entering.

“David?” she called out, her voice rising as her forehead creased. She began to walk towards the back room, when Marta emerged from the walk-in cooler, startling both of them.

“Oh, Marta! I’m sorry. No one answered me, and I was starting to get worried.”

The cool, calm and ordinarily unflappable Marta put her hand to her chest as if to slow the rapid beating resulting from her surprise. “It’s fine. We’re just slammed because of the flowers for Saturday. I don’t see how he can possibly expect to fit another blossom in that cooler. I’ve already rearranged it three times this week. I finally got that man to agree not to accept any more orders for this week!”

Trixie smiled. “I can only imagine. Where is David?”

“On the roof. He’s working in the hot house up there.”

“Would it be okay for me to go up and speak with him?”

Marta frowned. “Let me call and ask him, please. He’s rather protective of the hot house.” She picked up her phone and used an intercom feature to buzz the roof-top of the tiny store. After apologizing for the interruption and asking Trixie’s question, she replaced the received and smiled at the eager visitor. “The stairs are in the very back of the store,” she explained. “You’re going to go out our back door into the common stairwell, but only we have roof access. This floor and the second floor belong to David, along with the roof.”

Trixie followed the instructions and in short order pushed open the door of David’s hothouse. The room was a breathtaking riot of color and scent, and she found him quickly and efficiently dead-heading numerous blossoms and pots of flowers. It was work she had watched her mother do many times.

“Beeeaaatrix,” David breathed quickly, clearly hurried in his work. “Darling, it is sooo good to see you, but I have no time, just simply no time to chat today. I’m behind with my children here, and I’m never behind on their maintenance regime.” He waved his left hand airily as his right hand continued to pluck dead blossoms from the pots of flowers. “Marta and I, we’re just flat out until after this fundraiser. I don’t know how I ever let myself get talked into such an ambitious program!” He turned and briefly gave her a saucy wink and blew a kiss in her direction. “Now run along, darling, I'll see you Saturday night.”

“David,” Trixie forged ahead with her question. “I can’t wait until Saturday. I need to talk to you now. It’s important.”

“Oh, dear.” He turned and placed his hands on his hips. “Please tell me we aren’t having a wardrobe crisis. Did your shoes not come in? What about the scarf? Remember, the jewelry is simple and --- ” He stopped short and bounded toward her in an instant. “Beeeaaatrix! It’s true! The rumors and stories are true.” He picked up her hand and admired her engagement ring. “Oh my! This bauble is simply to die for! Your Jim has such exquisite taste, if only he were …” He waved a hand dismissively as he continued. “Well, my loss is your gain of course. But it’s divine. What are you planning for a band? I have all kinds of ideas if you’re not sure what to do.” He held her hand up closer, and tilted it one way and then the other. “Nothing too ostentatious, I mean, not with this jewel. You want the band to complement this shiny bauble. A heavy platinum band with a filigree edge would look marvelous.”

“I thought you said for me to run along.” She was finally able to get a word in with David and couldn't help but tease her favorite florist.

David groaned. “I’m dying here. Really, Marta and I have never been this busy. My poor babies! There hasn't even been time to talk to them this week. It’s getting to be desperate times around here.”

“Well desperate times call for desperate measures,” Trixie replied. “If you have time to listen to me for a few minutes, I can help with this.” She waved her hands around, taking in all the pots of flowers in the hot house. “Believe it or not, my mother trained me well during my teenage years.”

David stared at her a few seconds and then nodded. “Very well, take over from here while I go work with my orchid babies.”

Trixie stepped into place and began to remove the wasted blooms from the plants. David observed her for a moment, before nodding in satisfaction and moving to a different area. "Tell me Beatrix, what exactly is it causing you to experience desperate times?”

“A few years ago, a gentleman by the name of Dee Steward was on the board of directors at B3," Trixie began. “By any chance do you know him?”

“Yes, of course." One hand flew up in a dismissive wave as he continued to work with the orchids. "That was my padre. He always predicted B3 would become the success that they are."

Trixie smiled in relief. Her hunch had been correct. "When did he leave the board?"

"If I remember how it went down, they had a pretty big shake-up a few years ago. I'm almost certain he was still on their board until that happened. Mummy may still have his shares." He frowned as if trying to remember. "It seems like there was a buy-back clause or something from the original investment agreement.” David shrugged. “It didn’t matter. Pop believed in the company. He and Mummy talked about it often.”

“How did he come to be on the board?"

"Mummy would know for sure. If I remember correctly, he represented some of the original investors in the company."

"Was it a large group of investors?” Trixie moved to a new row of plants. “These too?” she asked, before he had a chance to answer her original question.

“Yes, please.” He inspected a pink orchid. “The group would've been fairly small. If my Pop were running it, there wouldn’t have been more than five of them. Three was his favorite number, but it would’ve been three or five. Once he did a group of seven, but he always swore it worked best when he could invite all the investors to dinner and everyone could hear everyone else.” David grinned. “The parentals were big on dinner parties.”

“Who was in that particular group?” Trixie pushed. “Do you know?”

David frowned. “Not really. In fact, now that you mention it, there were three investors, including Pop. He used to joke that they were the three in the name B3. It was just a joke of course. My Pop would've been the primary investor in the group, or else the progenitor would've never been on the board. ”

Trixie hesitated before asking. “Would your mother know?”

“Mummy would know, absolutely!” He nodded. "She knew everything the Padre did, maybe even more because of all those committees and things.”

“Can we call her?”

“Oh, Beatrix, darling. Of course, we can, but …” He stopped the watering he was doing, set down the colorful bedazzled watering can, placed his hands on his hips and looked at Trixie sternly. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

Trixie grinned. “Not yet. It’s a case, but it’s important. Please, David, let’s call her right now.”

He sniffed derisively, clearly not pleased with her answer. “We can call her, but that's not necessary. In fact,” he stopped and pulled his cell phone from his pocket, checking the time. “She’ll be waiting for me to meet her for tea. How about you join us?”

 

 

Honey Wheeler glanced around at the pale antiseptic green walls of the patient consultation room. The furniture had clearly been selected for function instead of style and comprised four chairs and a small table. A telephone mounted on the wall was the only sign anyone would ever linger there. However, on this particular afternoon it had suited her needs perfectly. She had been looking for a quiet place to make phone calls and follow-up with a wide variety of tasks for her mother while Mrs. Wheeler sat with her old friend Tammy Langham, and when she inquired had been referred to the hospital chapel. Honey, with the perfect deportment drilled into her by a cadre of various governesses, summer camps, and boarding schools, could not consider using such a place for phone calls, much less sending text messages or emails from her smart phone, and had resigned herself to a corner of the intensive care waiting room. Fortunately, Brian appeared and directed her to one of the doctor-family consultation rooms, assuring her that by early afternoon, there were more rooms than needed, as the scheduled, routine surgeries for the day began to wind down. She glanced at her watch, calculating how much time remained before the next scheduled ICU visitation would be allowed. There was still time to call Ben Riker, and she quickly made the call.

After the usual pleasantries between the two cousins, Honey was quick to get down to business. "I need you to make some changes in the structure of the Belden-Wheeler Group," she explained. "You need to move control of the business to Trixie. I was thinking eighty to ninety percent ownership."

"What did you say?" Ben was dumfounded. "Are you saying that you don't want to be a part of the business?"

Honey took a deep breath. Her reasons were her own and she had no intention of sharing them with Ben. "I'm saying that I want Trixie to have the majority ownership share of our business. It needs to be enough that she could be buy me out if she wanted. Do you have time to meet with us this week?"

"Does Trixie know about this?" he asked, the muffled sound of shuffling papers came across the phone connection letting Honey know he was looking for their file. “I'm thinking we should have a meeting to discuss this. What does your calendar look like?" Without pausing so much as a beat he didn’t wait for an answer but continued to talk. "I'm booked up the rest of the week, but I'll make time for this."

"I'm going back to Boston Sunday night," she reminded him. "We don't need a meeting. Just make the changes to the paperwork and messenger it to me at Mother and Daddy's penthouse. I'll get it signed and get it back to you."

Ben’s sigh was loud and clear. Honey knew Ben realized there things she wasn’t telling him. She waited patiently for his answer.

"What's going on, Honey?" he finally asked. "Does Trixie know about this or not?"

Honey bit her lip and considered her answer before she replied. "No, Trixie doesn't know about this, at least not yet. I would appreciate some professional courtesy here and ask that you give me some time to discuss it with her before you bring it to her attention." Her point couldn't have been any clearer.

"Honey," he started carefully. "You're both my clients in this business. I have to represent you both equally. That's a mighty big favor you're asking."

"Then I'd appreciate some familial courtesy," she retorted. "Trixie's not family, at least not yet." Her tone was sharper than she’d intended and she took another deep breath. The call was more stressful than she had anticipated. "Listen, Ben. I know what I'm doing. It's obvious that things are going to change a bit with our business now that I'm staying in Boston. Will you please afford me the opportunity to discuss this with Trixie myself? In the interest of time, I would consider it a great personal favor if you'd go ahead and make the necessary changes to give Trixie the majority control of the business. She needs to have the option to buy me out if she wants to."

Ben was silent as he considered her request.

"Come on, Benjamin, work with me, please? I just need a few days. You know I can't make her sign the papers."

Ben couldn’t resist Honey when she wheedled. “Sure, I'll make the changes. Eighty percent to Trixie should be enough for her to buy you out. I take it the immediate consideration for the change in ownership is the investment in time and resources over the next year?"

"Yes, exactly," she breathed in relief. "Thank you, Ben. If you could get that to me today or tomorrow, I'd really appreciate it. I'd like to have the papers with me when I talk to Trixie."

"Boston sure has made you demanding," he grumbled. "Today or tomorrow, I'll make it work. I’m not sure why your time is more valuable than my time; after all, my billing rate’s gone up since I first did the work to set this business up for you.”

Honey frowned. She didn’t remember getting a bill from Ben for the work he’d done for them. “Are you going to send us a bill for this?” she asked, stunned that Ben would actually charge them. She had thought it would be the usual friends and family discount, no charge unless filing fees were involved.

“Of course!” There was a slight pause before he completed his answer. “Not!”

“Benjamin!” Honey chided. His teasing actually made her smile for the first time that day.

“Gotcha again!”

 

 

“What next, Barnes?” Amy asked, as she entered the last of their information into the case file database.

“Did you clear everyone at B3 like Belden said?” he asked, looking up from his own computer.

“Yes, well all the founders at B3 – Reid, Ted and Chris, along with Madji, plus Tiffany Eaton and Sarah Durling.” She counted off the names on her fingers as she recited them back to Sean.

“Then rerun your list. Both Chris and Tiffany were on it before, right?”

Amy nodded.

“Be sure and use the same criteria,” he added as her fingers flew across the keyboard.

• Allison R. Beckhart
• Katherine “Kitty” Buchanan
• Tiffany C. Eaton
• Margaret K. Gaitley
• Tinsley M. Gaitley
• Olivia King Hoffman
• Margaret “Maggie” King
• Tamera “Tammy” Langham
• Elizabeth “Buffy” Patterson
• Evelyn E. Steward
• Melissa “Mitsy” Thornhill
• Emily C. Williams

Sean frowned. “Five?” he asked in disbelief. “There are still five of them?” He didn’t give Amy any opportunity to answer before he continued. “Why is Kitty Buchanan on there? Didn’t we clear her company?”

“No, we never investigated her company, remember? The Chicago office was going to clear them as part of the merger filings. Do you think we should take her off?”

“No. That's going to be the boss's call to make,” Sean replied automatically. “She’s running down Evelyn Steward right now. We already suspect Buffy Patterson is in this up to her pretty little eyeballs. Do we have any solid evidence against her?”

“Nothing. We tried to check out her alibi for the night of Allison’s murder,” Amy reminded him. “All we really know is that she didn't attend the Skating with Stars Gala.”

Sean groaned. "I can't believe that's all we have on her. We're missing something there. I know we are. Check Belden's notes, she wrote down everyone she remembers being there when she left the gala.”

“She's not on there." Amy answered as her fingers flew across the keyboard. She didn't argue, just pulled the data up, and projected it on the wall in the conference room. “She wasn’t there,” she repeated as she pointed at the list.

“We know that she knows Allison,” Sean was thinking aloud. “So does Kitty Buchanan, and probably the rest of the people on that list as well. We could try and run that angle down. See if any of these five women have alibis for the time Harold was shot or when Allison was killed.”

"We already know that Margaret Gaitley was at Allison’s funeral,” Freeman pointed out. “It’s in your case notes. She was with Mitsy. So she must’ve known Allison.”

“Maybe,” Sean agreed. “But she could’ve attended because she knew Reid. Let’s check out the Gaitley women and find out how they know Allison Beckhart." He dropped his head down to the table and bumped his forehead twice in frustration. "I can't believe we still have five suspects."

"Where’s the best place to start?” Freeman hesitated because she knew the easy answer was Reid Beckhart. “Belden didn’t want us to bother Reid Beckhart unless it was necessary.”

“True,” Sean acknowledged. “But that was before he went back to the office.” He checked his watch. “If he’s still working, we could start with him. If he’s left, maybe that secretary of his can give us some input.”

Amy shook her head reluctantly. "You already talked to him this morning. I don't think it's such a good idea to bother him again. Also, don’t forget, Kevin has class tonight. We’ll have to cover the front desk for an hour before we can lock-up.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping Belden will be back by then,” he muttered. “If she can clear Steward, then we’ll be down to four.”

"No way, she'll be back," Amy replied immediately. "She told me on the way out she'd see us tomorrow." Ignoring Sean's muttered oath she continued. "But there is someone we could ask ...." She hesitated unsure of how Sean would react.

He turned toward her and frowned. “Who? What’s wrong? Spit it out.”

“There’s someone else we could ask, right here, that might know some of these answers,” Amy said slowly.

“Who, Charlie Prescott?” Sean asked.

Amy shook her head. “No, not Charlie. Why don’t we ask Ellie, his assistant?”

“Ellie?” The surprise in Sean’s tone said everything.

“When Belden was working over at B3, she told me that Reid’s secretary, Janiece Jackson, gave her tons of information. From what I've seen, Ellie probably knows more than anyone else what goes on around here. If she knows that here, she probably did when they were working together before as well. Why don’t we start with her before we go dashing off across the city?” Amy rushed to get her explanation out, and when she finished, expelled a deep breath.

Sean stared at her a look of amazement on his face.

“What?” she demanded. “If you think I’m nuts, then say so!”

He gave a rueful shake of his head. “You’re not nuts. That’s bloody brilliant. Why haven’t you spoken up before?”

“I don’t know,” Amy stammered. Praise from Sean Barnes was rare and he had surprised her as much as she had surprised him.

“Come on! Ellie should be here unless she’s over at the courthouse or on some other errand for Charlie.” He stood quickly and motioned for her to follow.

“Maybe we’ll be able to surprise Belden for a change!”

 

 

“Mrs. Steward,” Trixie smiled and held out her hand to David’s polished mother. “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve intruded on your tea with David.”

“Not at all,” the elegant older woman replied graciously. “Davy knows that his friends are always welcome in our home. She motioned for Trixie to take a seat. “He humors me as much as he can. He knows how much I enjoy tea every afternoon.” She sat across from Trixie and made sure everyone was comfortably settled in the tasteful parlor of her Gramercy Park home. “When his father and I were working in London early in our marriage, it was a habit that we developed very quickly, and one that I’ve been most reluctant to give up.”

“Mummy has absolutely smashing teas!” David gave Trixie a dramatic wink, and dropped his voice in a pretend whisper. “I like to use English idioms to really make it authentic for her.”

Trixie laughed. It was obvious that both mother and son doted on each other. She relaxed and waited for Evelyn to pour. The Steward house was comfortable and elegant, much like Manor House had come to feel to Trixie over the years. It was apparent this was more than a well-to-do Manhattan residence; it was their home.

After sipping the fragrant tea and nibbling dainty sandwiches and cookies, Trixie brought up the question she had squelched. “Mrs. Steward, David confirmed for me that your husband was a member of the board of B3 for several years.”

“That’s right, dear.” She dabbed her napkin daintily around her mouth and smiled as she set her teacup down, clasping her hands together. “Dee was a brilliant business man. He knew from the beginning that Reid Beckhart was going to create something different. Still, it was hard for him to find investors for B3 Software. The software industry had taken a beating, and people were very wary of investments in the high tech space at that time. The timing was just terrible.”

“What do you mean, the timing was just terrible?” Trixie asked. She reached for another one of the delicious butter cookies and briefly wondered if it were a recipe she could collect for her mother.

“About the time Reid had his company ready to launch their first flagship product, it came out that he was marrying the Rockefeller girl. There wasn’t a big wedding, just something small.” She frowned as she tried to remember. “Perhaps it was an elopement ... it’s difficult to recall the facts from that long ago, but still …” She paused and held her hands out, palm up. “Everyone knew that her family was against the marriage. The Rockefellers had their hands full with Allison. She was such a free spirit; I do believe they feared she would end up like the Hilton granddaughter. Dee had to struggle to get people interested in investing.”

“That’s actually what I was wondering, Mrs. Steward.”

“Please,” she interrupted so sweetly, that Trixie felt as if she hadn’t been interrupted at all. “Call me Evelyn. Most of David’s friends do.”

“Thank you, Evelyn,” Trixie continued with a smile of her own. “That’s very kind of you.” She took a deep breath. “Who were the other investors with your husband?”

Evelyn’s hand flew to the heavy chain and locket around her neck and she fingered it for a moment as she considered the question. She gave her guest a level look before answering. “It wasn’t ever announced who they were,” she finally said. “They wished to remain anonymous. That’s why Dee was the member on the board. The investment group was a consortium. People thought at first they didn’t want their names known because they thought it was such a long shot. But really, they just wanted their privacy. I’m sure that’s something you understand now.” Evelyn looked toward the sparkling diamond on Trixie’s hand. It was clear she was referring to those frequent appearances in The Squawker.

“That was a long time ago,” Trixie said. “Do they still wish to remain anonymous?”

Evelyn considered the question. “Perhaps,” she finally admitted.

Trixie’s disappointment was acute. She nodded in understanding and took a sip of tea. Clearing her throat she tried another tactic.

“Mrs., um, Evelyn -- would it be possible for you to confirm or deny if a particular person were a member of the group?”

“What do you mean, dear?” she asked, not unkindly.

“Was Grayson Rockefeller part of the investment group with your husband?” she asked bluntly.

Evelyn looked surprised. “Why yes, dear, I didn’t realize that’s who you meant. I honestly thought you were asking about the other investor with Dee?”

“Why did you think that?” Trixie asked.

“Because it was your future father-in-law, Matthew Wheeler.”