Cheryl Bradshaw - Black Diamond Death

“Did she take any medications of any kind?” I said.

She shook her head.

“You said before that she wanted your advice.”

“That’s right.”

“Any idea what she needed to discuss with you?” I said.

She fidgeted with the bottom of her sweater. It rolled up at the end and she smoothed it back down with her fingers and then it rolled back up again.

“She didn’t say. I tried to ask her on the phone, but she said she wanted to wait and talk to me about it in person. I figured I’d find out later so I didn’t push it.”

“What about her tone of voice during the conversation, did it seem like anything was wrong?” I said.

“She sounded nervous and that wasn’t like her. My sister had a glass half full approach to life, even when she had a good reason not to. That’s just the type of person she was.”

Sometimes the aloof ones had the most to hide.

“How were things at work?” I said.

“She liked her job, but she wanted to transfer to another agency.”

“Any idea why?”

“Money, I guess. She was offered a better commission somewhere else, and she was ready for a change of scenery.”

“What about her co-workers, any problems there?” I said.

“From what I know, she got along fine with everyone.”

“Did she tell anyone she planned to leave?”

“Her partner, Vicki, and her assistant, Bridget, of course. I assumed the three of them were going together.”

“So if it wasn’t a problem with work, then––”

“Let me save you some time,” she said, “I want you to check out her fiancé, Parker Stanton, or ex-fiancé I should say.”

“Why him?” I said.

“A couple months ago she broke off their engagement.”

I took a sip of my hot chocolate. It was cold, and spitting it back into my cup in front of the client seemed an indecorous thing to do so I swished it around and swallowed hard.

“What was the reason for the break up?” I said.

“Parker spent a lot of time away from her. He traveled to New York and was always in meetings and stuff for the family business. They kept him away three, sometimes four days a week. Then he would fly back and spend the rest of the time with Charlotte. Toward the end of their relationship, he only came home about once a week for a day or so and then he flew back out again.”

“And that’s why she ended it?” I said.

I felt like a therapist engaged in a game of twenty questions.

“She acted like it didn’t bother her, but I could tell it did. One weekend we went on a girl’s trip together, just the two of us. She called him several times and he didn’t answer. Then on Sunday night he called and blamed it on phone problems and said he didn’t get any of her messages. He talked to her maybe five minutes and then made some lame excuse about how he needed to go meet with his dad.”

“How did she react?”

She leaned forward and rested both elbows on my desk.

“That’s when she ended it. She broke off the engagement and said she was done.”

“What about Parker?” I said.

“He called all the time, sent gifts, and even booked two tickets to Hawaii. He said he would do anything, all he wanted was a second chance.”

“And did she give him one?” I said.

“She told him she didn’t ever want to see or hear from him again.”

“I guess she meant it.”

A cold chill swept across my face and I realized the window was still open. With the smoky smell out of the room, I reached over and closed it.

“What did you think of him?” I said.

“Spoiled rich kid who spends his life doing daddy’s grunt work. In my opinion the only reason he involved himself in the business in the first place was to convince everyone he could make it on his own. But everyone knew he was daddy’s lackey.”

“Wow,” I said.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said, “Parker played nice. He treated my sister like a princess, showered her with gifts, and showed her what it was like to have money––lots of it. But there was something off about him. I don’t know how to explain it, but the guy gave me the creeps.”

Her face wrinkled up when she said the word creeps like a baby does the first time they take in a spoonful of creamed peas.

“How so?” I said.

“I dunno, I didn’t trust him. He’s the only man I’ve ever met who could sweet talk his way out of anything.”

“Until she dumped him and called off the wedding,” I said.

She slumped back in the chair.

“He called me.”

“When?”

“A few weeks ago. He asked if we could get together to talk about Charlotte and said he wanted my help to get her back. He refused to accept that it was over.”

“And did you?” I said.

“I told him he could go to hell.”

“Point taken,” I said.

“Look, I wasn’t privy to all the details of their breakup, but she called it quits. That was good enough for me. Parker flipped when I said I wouldn’t help him and yelled all kinds of things at me. He said he would get Charlotte back with or without my help and would do whatever he needed to do to change her mind.”

“And you think Parker would kill Charlotte over their break up, like if he couldn’t have her, no one could?” I said.

She paused and thought about it for a moment.

“That’s what I want you to find out.”

I thumped my pen on the notepad on my desk and considered what she’d said. Audrey shifted in her chair and awaited my verdict.

“Please Ms. Monroe; I can’t stop thinking about the urgency in her voice the last time we talked. Something was off. I know there’s more to what happened to her than what everyone thinks.”

“Let me see what I can dig up,” I said, “but you need to understand I might not find anything.”

“It’s a start. It means a lot that you are willing to look into it for me.”

We went over the necessary fees and she signed the paperwork. I stuck my hand out and she gave it a firm shake.

“I’ll be in touch,” I said.

She shielded her eyes with her glasses again and said, “Thanks for not treating me like I’m crazy.”

“For what it’s worth, you seem normal to me, and I’m sorry about your sister.”

“There is one more thing,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“I requested my own autopsy, but they’re backed up right now and I don’t know how long it will take for the results to come back from the lab. They won’t return my calls.”

“I might be able to help with that,” I said. “Let me see what I can do.”

For the first time since laying eyes on her, Audrey Halliwell smiled.

“I appreciate it, I really do.”

“I would need access to Charlotte’s body,” I said.

“She’ll be transferred to the funeral home today. Will that work?”

I nodded.

“And now I need a favor from you,” I said.

“Name it.”

“I’d like to take a look at her place.”

Audrey stuck a hand into her purse and pulled out a key ring. She tinkered with it until the shiny silver one broke free.

“1233 Powderhorn Street,” she said, and tossed it to me.

CHAPTER 6

Charlotte Halliwell was a celebrity in Park City. Locals adored her for her athletic achievements and tourists respected her even more for her unyielding and tireless effort in finding them the perfect vacation home of their dreams. Her slogan, you can ski in, but you won’t want to ski out made an impression on people. To prove her death wasn’t an accident wouldn’t be an easy task. But in my line of business just because it walked like a duck and talked like a duck, didn’t make it one, and for the first time in a long while I was faced with something new––a challenge.