Camp Pain, page 13
“What happened?” asked Patricia.
“I think they went out to lunch. After that, I saw them around town a few times, at lunch, once or twice in a nice restaurant for dinner. He always downplayed it, claimed it was just a friendship. He said he loved his wife and that I had nothing to worry about.”
“Did you believe him?” asked Patricia.
“At first. But then one night I needed to find him to ask a question about work. Someone said they saw him go into a club with Lana from work. He was always trying to help Lana network. When I went to the club, I found him but then he went back to his table and he wasn’t with Lana—he was with Susan. He thought I left but I watched them from across the club. I saw how she looked at him. It killed me that he was lying about it to everyone, not just to me, but to his wife,” said Jeff. He looked embarrassed. “That night I followed them to a hotel.”
“Where you took the pictures?” Brian asked Jeff.
“It wasn’t anything indecent. I just took pictures of them kissing in the hotel bar, and later in the hot tub outside by the hotel pool.”
“That was proof enough for you?” Brian sounded skeptical.
Jeff snorted. “Do you kiss your friends in hot tubs? If you had a wife, would she like it if you did? Sorry, Detective, I don’t mean to be flippant. I saw how Peter reacted when Hannah came storming in that night. He knew his goose was cooked. I thought I would be glad when the truth came out…but I didn’t feel happy about it, not one bit. All I could picture was how Susan would react. Hannah had those pictures in her hand and I just…panicked. That’s partly why I drove to my mother’s that night. I knew if Peter told Susan my photos were the cause of their break-up, she would probably want revenge in the worst way.”
“Do you believe he really went to see Susan Hendron as he promised?” Patricia asked Jeff. “Is there any chance he went somewhere else that night?”
“No. He definitely went to her house. He even texted me when he got there,” said Jeff.
“Why?” asked Patricia.
“Because I had dropped him off in her neighborhood, but also, I suppose, because he wanted to make it official. It had been such a crazy night.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled through the messages to show them. Thanks for everything. You’re a true friend, Jeff. I’m at her place now and I’m going to make this right, his message read. “That was the last I heard from him.”
“Do you think Susan Hendron could have killed Peter Sedgewick?” Brian asked.
Jeff was looking down at his feet. Reluctantly, he looked up at the detective. “Are you asking me if the love of my life is a murderer?” He paused and took a breath. “I’ve been scared to even think that thought since Peter was found dead, Detective. I…I can’t answer that question. Please don’t make me answer it.” He looked down again, ashamed.
Brian looked at Patricia. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Yes. We have to find Susan.” Patricia turned to Jeff. “Thank you for your honesty. I know this has been a painful time for you.” She felt sympathy for the poor man. Despite his poor choices, he had been motivated by a sincere desire to help the woman he loved. She hoped he would find love one day.
However, there was no time to dwell on the tragedy of it all. Brian grabbed Patricia’s hand and they practically ran to the truck.
“I need to call in an All Points Bulletin for Susan Hendron,” Brian said into his radio. Patricia had a sudden thought.
“Brian, I know where we can find Susan.”
“What? How?”
“Do you have a tuxedo ready? Tonight we’re going to rub elbows with Atlanta’s elite.” Brian grinned, intrigued. He drove her back to the campground so she could get changed. She laughed and promised to tell him her secret when he picked her up that evening.
Chapter Eighteen
“I am glad I shopped at Sax Fifth Avenue when I was in New York last month,” Patricia said to Valerie when she was back in her RV. She opened the garment bag hanging in her closet to reveal the special dress she had purchased on sale. Valerie gasped.
The emerald green cocktail dress fell in a gentle drape of satiny fabric. Little cap sleeves accentuated the rounded neckline and princess seams ran down to the fitted waist. The knee-length dress fit her like a dream, and she was thrilled to finally have the perfect occasion to wear it.
“You are going to look incredible. What time is Brian picking you up?” Valerie said.
“I think seven.”
“We’ve got plenty of time. Can I do your hair and makeup, please?” Valerie’s eyes shone with excitement and Patricia could not help but laugh.
“Okay. I guess this is worth the effort. It is one of the nicest restaurants in Atlanta. I’m excited to add it to my article.” Her hair was freshly washed, and she wore a t-shirt and jeans while Valerie got to work.
Patricia was happy that Valerie was an ace at taming her wild red curls. There was no mirror in the main living space where they worked, so she could not see the final effect quite yet.
When she was done with Patricia’s hair, Valerie told her to stay in the chair.
“It is makeup time,” Valerie declared. “But first, when was your last manicure?”
“Never,” Patricia laughed. “I do my own nails.”
“Well, you are getting one today,” Valerie declared. She dunked Patricia’s nails in a soapy solution and went back to her RV to fetch a bag of her emery boards and other nail supplies. She picked out a pretty shade of nail polish that was subtle yet sexy. Patricia was impressed. While her nails dried, Valerie applied Patricia’s makeup.
“If you don’t like it, you will have time to take it off and do it yourself before Brian gets here,” Valerie reassured Patricia. She put on the finishing touches and finally let Patricia see herself in a mirror. Patricia’s mouth gaped open.
“You don’t like it,” said Valerie, a bit dejectedly. “Tom said I should just stick to hair.”
“Valerie, I love it,” said Patricia. Valerie squealed with happiness.
“You really like it?” Valerie asked.
“Yes, I do,” said Patricia. Valerie had brought out Patricia’s green eyes and high cheekbones. Patricia could not believe what Valerie had done with her hair. Valerie had straightened the wild curls into loose waves and used bobby pins to twist it back from one side of Patricia’s face. Her hair softly framed her face.
“I look like a Hollywood star,” said Patricia.
“Yes, you do,” said Valerie. Patricia carefully hugged Valerie and thanked her. When she helped Valerie carry all the supplies back to the couples’ RV, Tom whistled.
“Wow, you look gorgeous,” he said to Patricia.
“Never doubt your wife’s abilities again,” Patricia chided him.
“I won’t,” Tom promised. Patricia walked back to her RV with a spring in her step. It was easy to ignore the red paint on her RV. As a surprise for her, Tom had draped the side of her RV with a clean tarp so that she didn’t have to look at it or deal with it until she was ready.
She put on the emerald green dress. She put on a new pair of high-heeled sandals in pale pink with delicate ankle straps. Patricia felt like a princess. Now all she needed was her prince.
A few minutes later, Brian pulled up in his truck. Patricia heard him and went outside. Brian stopped dead in his tracks.
“Wow,” he said. Brian had on a grey designer suit with narrow lapels and a sapphire blue bowtie that matched his eyes.
“Wow to you, too,” said Patricia.
“I like going out on stakeouts with you,” said Brian. Patricia laughed. Brian gently helped her into the truck. When he climbed into his seat next to her, he stared at her for a moment longer. Her heart fluttered.
“What?” she asked nervously.
“Nothing. You’re just beautiful. The best lucky charm a guy could wish for,” he said. She blushed, remembering how he had joked about that when they first met.
Valerie and Tom waved as they drove by their RV. Brian and Patricia waved back.
“Now, would you mind telling me where we are going tonight?” Brian asked. Patricia told him how she had seen the dinner date on Peter Sedgewick’s appointment calendar and remembered Jeff Jones mentioned a place he had seen Peter and Susan together, too. She told him it was Aria, and Brian whistled.
“Okay,” he said. He put the address into his GPS and started driving.
“Will we be able to get in?” asked Patricia.
“I’ll talk to the person in the front and let them know what’s going on. It won’t be a problem,” Brian said.
“What a great job perk,” said Patricia.
Brian agreed. “Maybe we should have all our dates on stakeouts,” he teased her. They drove up to North Atlanta. When they got to their destination, Brian drove the truck to the valet.
“When in Rome…” Brian said. Patricia giggled. The uniformed valet attendant helped Patricia out of the car. Brian came around and took her hand. He handed the keys to the attendant and put her hand in the crook of his arm and they walked towards the restaurant. Large black letters spelled out ARIA against the white wall of the restaurant. It was tasteful and understated. Brian and Patricia entered the black doors and walked into a fairy tale. At least, that was what Patricia was thinking. The tables were draped with white cloths and set with crystal glasses for each guest. A black and white floral wallpaper accented the room and the art deco style chandelier reminded Patricia of shooting stars.
There were statues of animals under arches at the far side of the room. Across the way, there were bay windows overlooking a beautiful lake surrounded by trees. Beside a wall draped with white curtains was the bar. Patricia nudged Brian and pointed out the marble-topped bar with every imaginable liquor. Sitting at the bar was Susan Hendron.
Brian and Patricia sat down at the other end of the bar. Susan Hendron was wearing a silky white dress and did not seem to notice them. She had her blonde hair pulled back in a chignon and she was carrying a small sequined clutch purse. Despite her stunning outfit and immaculate looks, Susan was distraught. She slouched a little against the bar as she finished her mixed drink.
While they were watching Susan, a waiter came over to her. She nodded and followed him to a table set for two. Susan sat down, and the waiter brought her another drink. At one point, the waiter walked past Brian. Brian caught the waiter’s attention and discreetly flashed his badge.
“Can you tell me if you have seen that woman here before?” Brian asked the waiter while motioning towards Susan.
“Oh yes,” said the waiter. “She comes here every few weeks.”
“Does she dine alone?” asked Brian.
“No. She is usually with Mr. Sedgewick.” Here the waiter bowed his head. When he lifted it back up his eyes were moist. “Mr. Sedgewick was one of our best customers. That was his table. He had a standing reservation here,” the waiter said. Across the room the floor manager motioned to the waiter.
“I have to go,” said the waiter. Brian thanked him and tipped him. Patricia put her hand on Brian’s arm and nodded towards Susan. Susan was sitting with her face in her hands. Her drink was empty—evidently she had drunk it down rather quickly. Her shoulders were shaking as if she was crying. The other restaurant patrons were doing their best to ignore her, but it was obviously difficult. Her sobs became louder and the waitstaff began to look alarmed.
“Let’s go over and talk to her,” Patricia suggested. “We can’t just leave her alone like this.”
“Okay, but let’s be cautious,” said Brian. They walked over to Susan’s table and Patricia sat beside her. Patricia could tell that Susan was quite tipsy.
“Hello, Susan,” said Patricia, putting her hand on Susan’s arm.
Susan looked up. She tried to compose herself. “Who are you?” Susan asked.
“I am Patricia. I met you outside of Peter’s office the other day, do you remember? This is Detective Johnson,” said Patricia, motioning to Brian who stood a careful distance away.
“I remember,” said Susan, nodding vaguely.
“We spoke to Jeff Jones. He gave us some information about the investigation and it’s urgent that we talk to you about it,” said Patricia gently.
The woman’s eyes filled up with tears again. A look of bitter rage flitted across her features and she wiped hastily at her eyes. She started speaking quickly, babbling angry words that Patricia could just barely make out. “Jeff…that backstabber…he knew—” Her voice grew in volume and the maître d’ gave Brian a look of alarm from across the room. Brian quickly stepped in.
“Ms. Hendron, please, won’t you allow us to help you?” said the Detective, grasping her arm gently but firmly and helping her to stand. As she stood up, Susan snatched a large glass of white wine from her table. Together they escorted the distraught woman to the cool, quiet hallway by the restrooms.
Susan muttered angry words in between gulps of wine. She shot a poisonous look at the maître d’ and the waiters.
“Susan, I hate to see you suffer like this,” said Patricia. “Will you let us help you get home? Perhaps you’ll be more comfortable there and we can go over some of the questions we have.”
Susan sniffed and looked lost. Then she turned and looked at Patricia. “Yes,” Susan said with decision. “Once we get there, I’ll tell you all about that traitor, Jeff,” she spat. She downed the last of her wine in one swallow. Brian grimaced, realizing her blood alcohol level must be dangerously high at this point. He stepped forward and took Susan’s keys from her purse and said he would drive Susan back to her place. Susan hesitated, but then agreed. Patricia would drive Brian’s truck to follow them.
While Susan went to get her coat, Brian gave Patricia his valet ticket. Patricia, Brian, and Susan walked to the front of the restaurant. Susan swayed a little on her feet and continued to dab angrily at her tears. The valets brought Brian’s truck around for Patricia and then Susan’s Mercedes convertible drove up. It was sleek and silver. Brian helped Susan climb in and then got in the driver’s seat. He pulled ahead of Patricia and she followed him towards upper Atlanta.
They wound through traffic and ended up in the Buckhead area. Patricia followed Brian down a small street. He stopped and parked by a large condominium. Patricia was glad to see the street and the neighborhood were well-lit and bright. Despite the late hour, she saw a man taking a cute dog on an evening walk.
“Her apartment is bigger than my first house,” Patricia gawked. She parked Brian’s truck behind the convertible. Brian helped Susan out of the truck. Patricia took Susan’s keys from her sparkly purse and unlocked the front door. Susan swayed on her feet again, then led the way into her apartment. Patricia thought the apartment was strangely dark, given the bright streetlights outside. The soft orange glow should have shone in through the front windows. Brian and Patricia followed Susan inside and closed the door.
Chapter Nineteen
Susan’s condo was gorgeous. Or it would have been, if there had not been sheets of cardboard taped to the windows, blocking all the light from the floor-to-ceiling glass looking out to the street. By the windows, a row of exotic plants wilted in tasteful terra-cotta pots. Everywhere Patricia looked, the windows were covered with cardboard. There was a smell as if the trash had not been taken out in days.
She could see Susan favored a minimal, expensive style. Patricia mentally calculated the cost of Susan’s furnishings. They were more expensive than Patricia’s RV. That was obvious despite the strange condition of the place.
Susan tottered over to the low, tufted leather couch and collapsed on it. She kicked off her heels. She did not bother to explain the cardboard.
“Why don’t I get you some water?” Brian suggested. He and Patricia shared a wordless look. They were both curious now.
“You have a lovely apartment,” Patricia said to Susan while Brian went to the kitchen.
“Thank you,” Susan replied. Brian returned with bottles of water. Susan did not skimp here, either. Patricia recognized the label on the water because she had once bought it by accident in New York City. A small bottle had cost her ten dollars that day.
“So, Susan, I am glad we are getting a chance to talk,” said Brian. “I have been trying to reach you at your office, but your phone has gone straight to voicemail.”
“My office has been closed since…since I found out about Peter,” Susan said.
“You are a lawyer?” Brian asked.
“Yes. I work with investment bankers,” Susan replied. She drank her water. Patricia hoped the woman was sobering up because they desperately needed answers.
“How did you know Peter?” Brian asked.
“Peter. Peter, Peter, Peter.” Susan seemed to be in a storytelling mood. “We dated in college,” she continued. “He could be a real playboy back then. One day he would say he wanted to marry me, the next day he would be out breaking hearts again. He tried to leave me once because he was scared of our love—how real it was. He always came crawling back to me, though sometimes he needed a little…encouragement,” she said with a small smile.
“What happened?” Patricia said. She shivered to hear Susan talk about Peter this way.
“He loved me, but he wouldn’t commit to me, so I broke it off,” said Susan. “Besides, I needed to prove I was stronger than him. He was quite devastated,” she said softly.
“Did you keep in touch after college?” asked Brian.
“No. We went our separate ways. I went to law school and Peter moved away,” said Susan. “It was only in the past few years that we got back in touch.”
“When you moved here to Atlanta?” asked Brian.
“Yes. I received a job offer in Atlanta that I could not pass up. The firm I work for is one of the more exclusive ones here,” said Susan. She sat up straighter and seemed to take pride in herself. “I took the job. One day I was reading the paper and I saw Peter’s name mentioned in an article. He was buying a restaurant and planning to open a club. I was shocked. I didn’t know that Peter was in Atlanta.”
