Murder in Buckhead, page 5
“And if he’s trying to have her killed, doesn’t that make her a victim?”
“Without a doubt.”
“What about security at the condo building?”
“The building has security cameras in the lobby, and on the outside of both the front and back entrances. The doorman is on duty from 6 am to midnight. However, the day of Casey’s death he’d called in sick. The security desk is manned 24/7. I asked the security guard on duty to review all the cameras for the time frame of noon to 2 pm.”
“Why that particular time frame?”
“Only a theory, but the coroner estimated the time of death somewhere around 1 pm. If someone had ‘assisted’ in Casey’s death it would be logical they would arrive and leave between that time frame.”
“What did the tapes reveal?”
“Two individuals exited the building at the back entrance to the parking lot reserved for residents. Neither person was recognizable as the camera view is of their backs. Both were wearing heavy winter clothing and hats which makes sense since it was a cold day.”
“What time did they leave?”
“One person left at 1:27 pm and the other left at 1:31 pm.”
“Why just their back view?”
“The security cameras are set up to surveil whoever is entering the building.”
“Backing up for a moment, what time was the body discovered?”
“The call came in at 1:24 pm and officers were immediately dispatched to the scene.”
“Who called it in?”
“The security guard, Ted Masters. But the body was discovered by one of the residents, a widower by the name of George Ingly. When I arrived on scene, I interviewed him at length, but there was not much he could tell me, nor did he recognize who the victim was.”
“What time did Blaire Olmsted show up with this friend?”
“1:53 pm.”
“And the two people on the security camera left at 1:27 and 1:31.”
“Correct.”
“Why didn’t this security guard, Ted Masters, notice those two people leaving?”
“He’d been instructed by dispatch to guard the body until we arrived.”
“Which was?”
“1:31 pm.”
“And the doorman had called in sick. How convenient.”
“Where was the senator that day?”
“One of my officers located him at his office in Washington. She didn’t speak with him directly but informed his personal assistant of the circumstances. He normally flies in and out of Peachtree-DeKalb Airport. They advised me that his Lear touched down at 10:43 pm that night.”
“Another thing, Turner. Mrs. Olmsted told me that her son called her just before he left for Kazakhstan on February 28 for his usual month assignment. He was found dead on March 4. She called ExxonMobil to try and get an answer as to why he was home, but was told that they were unable to give her that information.”
“I gave ExxonMobil a call myself. Thought being a detective would garner some information. But all I was told was that as soon as Casey Ray stepped off the plane, he was advised he was being sent home. Very strange, isn’t it? All I can say is good luck, Ludefance. You’re going to need it. There’s a lot of legwork to be done. As to Blaire, watch yourself. She’s something else, altogether. I’d also check all the residents for their whereabouts. Find out if anyone saw anything of interest. Also, if there was anyone living in the building who was at odds with Casey. Besides Blaire, that would have been my next priority.”
“Then I think I’ll start with interviewing Blaire. Then try to identify those two individuals who left the building that afternoon. Next would be to talk with the waiter, Mr. Jefferson Thomas. I appreciate your sharing all this with me. By the way, I do conceal carry.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less of a private investigator.”
“Well, Detective Turner, you’ve certainly given me a great deal of information to digest. One last thing, can you recommend a hotel close by? I didn’t have time to book anything before I left Florida.”
“There’s a Courtyard by Marriott and an Embassy Suites close by, actually both within walking distance.”
“Thanks, Detective. I’m thinking I don’t need to read the police report, unless there’s other information you haven’t mentioned.”
“I’d have filled you in if there was anything useful. Like I said, I was almost immediately shut down. Keep me updated as to what you find, and if there’s anything I can assist you with, please let me know.”
“I certainly will, Detective. You’ve been a big help and I understand your frustration.”
“Just a warning about the senator…”
“You don’t have to say any more than that.”
Stopping by the front desk, I turned in my temporary ID and retrieved my firearm and permit and roll-aboard. Exiting the precinct, I spotted the Marriott. After checking in, I went up to my room on the second floor and turned on the air conditioner. Hard to believe that a couple of weeks ago, Atlanta was experiencing an unusual and short-lived cold snap, but today the temps were in the balmy 70s. Typical changeable March weather in the south.
Blaire was first on my list to formally interview. After her, it seemed prudent to interview the waiter who swore Blaire and her friend were at the Cheesecake Factory on March 4. He was her alibi, whether real or not was up for debate.
I laid on the bed and clasped my hands behind my head. My first thought was treading carefully in setting up an interview with Blaire. Perhaps the pretext of wanting to investigate her claim about the senator would be the safest approach; that and finding out what she knew about Anna May Foster’s death. I had to be very careful with the questions I asked of her. There was no way she could catch on that I was investigating her husband’s death. I had to keep tabs on both Blaire and the senator without them becoming suspicious of my real intentions.
As to Rudy, my expert computer hacker? At what point should I bring him from Los Angeles? I certainly hoped he wasn’t in any kind of trouble. I didn’t need him just yet, so I put that on hold. In the meantime, my stomach was growling.
“Reception.”
“This is room 235. I was wondering if the restaurant is open.”
“Yes, Sir. We serve the lunch menu until 3 pm.”
“Thank you.”
Downstairs, I located the restaurant and found a table by the window; watching as the waitress approached and handed me a menu.
“What can I get you to drink, Sir?”
“Do you have Samuel Adams?”
“No, Sir. But we have Blue Moon.”
“Alright. Just bring me an iced tea and I’ll look over the menu.”
By the time she returned with the iced tea I was ready to order.
“Can I have the blue cheese and mushroom burger?”
“How would you like your burger, Sir?”
“Medium-well. Does that come with fries?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Surprisingly, my burger tasted delicious even without the Samuel Adams. Back in my room, after checking emails, I watched some local news. No mention about the events of several weeks ago. How quickly things disappear from sight when they are purposely covered up.
A good night’s sleep was next on my agenda. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.
CHAPTER 6
Sunday, March 24
As I was enjoying breakfast, another question presented itself. Rent a car? Or, not rent a car? Doing a Google search on Atlanta, it quickly became clear the city had an excellent public transportation system within the downtown area. No rental car for now. Between the MARTA bus and train system and Uber, I shouldn’t have a problem. Besides, if I rented a car, where would I go? It would only end up sitting in the hotel parking lot.
Next on the list was to call Blaire and set up an appointment with her; remembering that my pretext was the senator and his threats towards her. But, my main objective was to find out what she knew about Anna May Foster’s death.
“Hello?”
“This is Jack Ludefance. Is this Blaire Olmsted?”
“Yes, this is she. Mr. Ludefance, I’m rather surprised to hear from you.”
“Well, Blaire, quite frankly I’ve been thinking about your request to hire me. Although it’s not the kind of situation I normally get involved in, I’ve decided to at least have a conversation with you and see if perhaps there is something I can help you with.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“I’m in Atlanta staying at the Courtyard by Marriott in Buckhead. I’m not familiar with the area yet and I don’t have transportation. Would it be possible for you to meet me here and we can sit in the lobby and have a talk?”
“That can be arranged. I don’t live far from there. I’m available anytime this afternoon.”
“Let’s see…it’s about 10 now. How about around 2? When you arrive, just send me a text and I’ll come down to the lobby.”
“I’ll be there at 2 pm.”
Returning to my room, I put my laptop securely in my backpack. Time to do some exploring. Wandering the local streets, I found this part of Atlanta to be quite cosmopolitan. There were tall buildings, but not many commercial spaces as far as business concerns. Compared to Tallahassee, where I’d just spent a considerable amount of time on my last case, there weren’t many restaurants either, other than a few fast-food joints.
I did notice numerous one-way streets. Traffic going in one direction on one street and the other direction on the next street over. I wondered if this was how most of Atlanta was. All tall buildings and one-way streets?
I walked down as far as the Peachtree Plaza Hotel and looked up at the tall, round structure with what appeared to be a restaurant and bar on the very top floor. Quite an impressive place. Maybe this is where we should stay when I bring Rudy out. What a surprise for him!
Just down the street was a familiar Starbucks. Entering the crowded space, I put in my order and settled in a just-vacated comfortable corner chair. After my Grande Americano, I started some Google searches. Surprisingly, there was very little on Blaire Olmsted. Next, Senator Olmsted. Page after page of information popped up on him. Most of it was of his public life. What I needed was to delve into his personal life, which would mean logging into the background search website that I use and shelling out another $300. Definitely worth it, but here and now wasn’t the right place, nor the right time.
My phone pinged. Blaire had sent a text that she was on her way to the hotel. I texted her that I was at Starbucks and would be there shortly. With a long walk back to the hotel and short on time, I called Uber. When I walked into the lobby, Blaire still hadn’t arrived. Settling into a quiet corner with two comfortable chairs and a small table where I hoped we could have a private conversation; I noticed a woman just entering the lobby. It was Blaire. It had to be. Turner said she was ‘something else.’ This woman was definitely something else. I stood up and walked towards her.
As I approached, it became clear that she was not looking around, but rather she was keeping her head bent as if she wished not to be noticed.
“Blaire Olmsted?”
Hearing my voice, she looked up and we came face to face. My God! She had the largest, most beautiful dark eyes I’ve ever seen. Her looking at me was like being shot in the heart. One glance of her eyes sent a fire straight through me.
“Jack Ludefance?”
“Yes, that’s me. So, you’re Blaire Olmsted?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Jack Ludefance. Nice to meet you.”
I was blathering like an idiot. Finally, I extended my hand. Her handshake was firm and warm as she stared at my face.
“Nice to meet you, finally,” she said with an erotic smile.
I led her back to where I’d been sitting and pulled out the other chair for her to sit. It was not hard to see the confidence on her face as if to say, ‘I am all female. I have power over you and I know I can have my way with you.’
Stay composed, Ludefance, stay composed!
“Thanks for coming,” I started blathering again.
Then I took notice. Her skin-tight gray leggings accentuated her body from the waist down in minute detail. Especially the front with the familiar triangular shape which outlined her female self. It was like that of two elongated downward buds with a line between them. That part of the feminine body which is often described as the ‘camel toe’ was on full display.
It looked much sexier than it ever could have been with no clothes on. As she turned to put her coat on to the back of the chair, her hip-length hair fell away and I caught a glimpse of her derriere, fully detailed. It was as if her leggings were just another skin on top of her natural skin; her buttocks were fully revealed. Hers were tiny and not much wider than her thighs, her thighs and buttocks not much wider than her legs.
There was an outline from the side of her leggings going all the way to and around her buttocks making a perfect heart shape. The outline was similar to the rings of the planet Saturn, dipping at the top of her buttocks. Overall, it reminded me of the picture of a heart, as we know it. She took her time putting her coat on the back of her chair. Time for me to register every detail in my mind. As she flipped her long hair back, she slowly turned around and faced me; those large, beautiful, dark, sexy eyes focused on my scar.
It was then I realized her top was attached to the leggings; she was wearing a one-piece legging jumpsuit covering her entire body. Through the skin-tight top, her breasts were clearly outlined and with her nipples protruding prominently. I actually felt embarrassed to be with her. It looked as if I had ordered a high-priced escort girl for the night. I thought of asking her to go up to my room, but that could have gotten out of hand very quickly.
Hah. What she’s really saying is, ‘I’ll even sleep with you. Just protect me from the senator.’
She continued to stare at me.
“Alligator bite.”
“Oh? What?”
“My scar and your curiosity, Blaire. Not that I mind. I’m used to it. Everybody stares at my face. But, sometimes it does get annoying when kids stare at me.”
“You could get it removed, you know.”
“Yes. I know. I’ve been told surgery can do wonders. But I like my face the way it is. It gives me an enhanced character, as they say. With that out of the way, shall we get started?”
“First of all, thank you for seeing me. I’m desperate to get out from under this nightmare.”
“I sympathize with your dilemma, but as I said before, I really don’t know what I can do to solve your problem. You need a bodyguard, not a PI.”
“Yes, I need a bodyguard! But for how long, Mr. Ludefance? I can’t have a bodyguard for the rest of my life. I’m a single girl, uhmm, widow now. Besides, I don’t want a bodyguard.”
“As I said before, Blaire. A PI solves crimes that have occurred. I can’t do anything to protect you when nothing has happened.”
“I think you can, Mr. Ludefance.”
“How?”
“You can put my father-in-law away.”
“Away? How could I possibly do that?”
“For killing my best friend.”
I feigned ignorance. “What!? Who!”
“Her name was Anna May Foster. If you can get him for Anna May Foster’s murder and put him in jail, then my problems will be solved.”
“When did this happen?”
“Late November 2017.”
“How do you know he killed her?”
“Well, he didn’t himself, but one of his hired help did.”
“You know that for a fact?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I can’t tell you that right now.”
“Do you know why she was murdered?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me why?”
“No, not right now.”
“The police investigated the case, didn’t they?”
“What case, Mr. Ludefance? I told you on the phone, my father-in-law owns the police and entire Georgia, for that matter. No one was ever arrested or charged, and the investigation was very quickly shut down. This was my very best friend. I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
“So, you want me to investigate the senator for a murder when you won’t tell me who committed the crime or why the crime was committed. Look. Senator Olmsted is a very well-respected senator, and he has an important position on the Senate Arms Committee. You can’t expect me to go after a man like him.”
“Oh, you, too?”
“Me too, what?”
“Mr. Ludefance—”
“Jack.”
“Jack. I’ve been told you are a reputable man. I believe you are the only man who can deal with Senator Olmsted.”
“Blaire, you’re asking me to go to war with one of the most powerful senators in the U.S. It’s not that simple. Besides, the FBI deals with people like that. I’m just a PI.”
“Please, Jack? I’m desperate, I’ll do whatever it takes to put this monster behind bars. Yes, I believe you are the only man who could do that. If you can’t, I don’t believe anybody can.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence. But now I’m curious. What makes you think that I’m the only one? I’m sure there are plenty of very competent PI’s here in Atlanta.”
“The first time I spoke with you I explained that you were recommended by a friend of mine who’s a judge. He knows about you from your last case and I trust his judgement.”
“I see. So, your friend who’s a judge knows about Judge Hastings, the appellate judge in Tallahassee. That makes sense. But I still think it’s beyond me go to war with Senator Olmsted.”
“Look, Jack. If it’s about money for your services, that won’t be problem. I can get the money.”
“Really…Huh…I’m curious. If I decided to investigate Anna May’s murder, it would be a great deal of money we’re talking about. If you don’t mind me asking, where would you get that kind of money, Blaire?”
