Chapter 17
“I’ll grab us some food.” Harlan holstered his gun. He didn’t like leaving Storm alone in the room, but he didn’t want her with him when he spoke with her ex-husband. Randal was the first stop on his list of suspects.
After he had told Robin that the police were involved, she left without seeing Storm, citing some important email for work that she needed to attend to. He had to wonder how much of that was true and how much was fear from possibly dealing with the police.
When Storm had come out of the room, Robin had already left. He told Storm that Robin had stopped by but had to go. He left out the parts in the middle.
“I want to go with you.” Storm had thrown on a simple sundress that molded to her curves and swooshed around her knees when she walked. He was falling hard, noticing these little details about her.
He had also peeked inside her suitcase while she was in the shower. She had done a rather sufficient job of packing. If he had been running for his life, which he had, packing wouldn’t be on his mind, and if he did stop to gather a few things, he would have definitely missed a lot, even the important stuff.
What did her full suitcase say about her? Maybe nothing. Or it could mean there was more to her story than she had told. He would tuck that little piece of information about her packing habits in the back of his mind, though he didn’t want to use it. Not now that they had slept together.
He crossed the room to her and pulled her against him, unable to stay away from her. She smelled of aloe and coconut. He wanted to take her back to bed and find the spots where this sweet smell came from.
“You’re safer here. Don’t open the door for anyone. If someone comes to the door and won’t go away, go into the bedroom, lock the door, and open the slider to the balcony so you have a way to yell for help, if you need it. Hide and call me immediately.” He had plugged his number into her phone. He might get her a burner phone while he was out so she could keep the damn thing on when he wasn’t around.
“You’re scaring me. I won’t know what to do if someone barges in here. I’ll panic.”
That was the exact reason he didn’t want to leave her behind. She wasn’t trained to fight for her life. He was certain she would not allow him to question Randal without being involved. And that would result in Randal clamming up. Harlan needed him at ease and possibly ready to talk, assuming he had something to say.
“I don’t think anyone is coming for you. Poison is a way to hurt someone without having to be present. I just want you to be prepared for the worst. That’s all.” He had been prepared many times for the worst situation. If he hadn’t been, he wouldn’t be standing there with Storm.
“Wouldn’t I be safer with you? You have the gun.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I hope not to have to pull it out on this trip.”
“You’ve killed people before, haven’t you?”
He eased out of the embrace but kept his gaze on hers. “Sweetheart, I will not drag you down the long and treacherous road of my deployments. I followed orders. I watched the backs of the men on my team. I negotiated with a lot of people who wanted to do harm to themselves and others. That’s all you need to know, okay?”
He didn’t want to tarnish this new thing between them with the atrocities of war. He did not want her looking at him like a monster if she had too much information about his past. Now that he was retired, he could become anyone and someone worthy of this woman.
“I understand. No talking about the special operations of the Navy.” She moved to the window where he couldn’t reach her. The setting sun splashed its colors through the window and left layers of pinks and oranges on the floor.
“Thank you. Now, will you stay here without me?” If she refused, then he would have to come up with another plan to talk to Randal.
“Fine. I’ll stay. Bring me back a hamburger and fries.”
“Seriously?”
“What? You think I wouldn’t eat that?”
“I guess not.” He laughed to himself. He expected her to be a plain salad kind of gal.
“I like to eat. I hope you’re okay with that.”
“I’m good with it. I like a woman who isn’t afraid to eat. Call me if you need me, okay? Don’t worry about the signal you’re sending. It’s more important you reach me.” He placed a kiss on her lips. She tasted warm and salty.
She flopped onto the couch. “Hurry back. I’m starving.”
Harlan left the Westin and drove to the neighboring hotel which was just as palatial as the one he and Storm were at. He parked in the center of the lot and zigzagged between cars to the front doors.
The air conditioning hit him with its cold breath as he walked into the two-story lobby made of Corinthian marble. The front desk was lined in gold—not real gold, he hoped. Chandeliers with hundreds of crystals cascaded down from the ceiling.
Randal had been more than cooperative about giving over his room number when asked. Probably because he never assumed Harlan would show up at his door. That was a good sign. Harlan took the elevator to the eleventh floor and followed the hall to the end. He took a second to get into work mode, then knocked.
The door opened with Randal standing there, a confused look on his face. He had swapped his dress shirt and pants from earlier when they were at the shelter for a white undershirt and shorts that hit him at the knee. His glasses sat crooked on his nose.
If Harlan were being honest, he wondered what Storm had seen in this guy. He was okay-looking, Harlan supposed. He wasn’t into checking out guys, but he’d seen worse-looking men. Randal was skinny and pasty and always seemed to have some version of that confused expression on his face.
“Oh, what are you doing here?” Randal looked into the hallway.
“She’s not here.”
“Then why are you?”
“I have some questions about your ex-wife, if you have a minute.” He purposely left out Storm’s name. He needed to make her seem less like a person at the moment. He wanted Randal to get comfortable talking. Distance would help with that.
“Come in.” Randal turned and went inside the room.
The space was like any other hotel room on the beach. The décor was palm trees and bamboo. The colors were beige and sea blue. The room was neat with Randal’s suitcase tucked in the corner and not even a wrinkle in the bedspread. Harlan glanced into the bathroom. The counter was organized with toiletries lined up by height. This guy must be a real blast in bed. No wonder she didn’t want to talk during it.
Randal stopped by the window and Harlan stood far enough away that his distance wouldn’t seem strange but would give Randal a sense of comfort.
“I don’t know what kind of questions you have about my wife, Mr. Fender, but I won’t disparage her to you.” Randal shoved his hands in his pocket and the clinking of coins became apparent. Randal was fidgeting.
“She’s your ex-wife. I’m not asking you to speak badly of her.” He shoved his hands in his pockets too. He mirrored what Randal did to provide body language that would keep Randal calm.
“Are you sleeping with her?” Randal pointed a finger at him.
“Excuse me?” Okay, Randal wasn’t calm just yet. Harlan would try another approach.
“Are you sleeping with my wife?”
“Ex-wife, Randal. I can’t answer any questions about what she does in her own time. Are we on the same page about that?”
“I don’t like you.” Even with the A/C on full-blast in this room that faced the sunset, sweat beaded on Randal’s hairline. He needed Randal to relax a little or he wouldn’t answer any of the questions.
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t. I’ve come into your hotel room wanting to gather information about Storm from you. I assure you, I’m here only to help Storm. She’s hired me to do that. Speaking with anyone close to her would be required.”
“You’re not the police. I don’t have to answer you.”
“You are correct. You don’t have to talk to me at all. But I’m here as an ally. The police will interrogate you.”
“The police aren’t coming.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I know Storm already went to the police the night it happened. They thought she was out of her mind. Which she can be. So emotional that woman. You’re the only one investigating.”
“Who told you the police wouldn’t help her?” He hadn’t seen Storm as the emotional type.
In fact, she seemed to hold it together rather well. She was thought out and deliberate. Except of course when he had found the spot that had her pressing her backside against him as he took her from behind.
“No one told me. I could figure it out for myself.” He grabbed a pillow off the chair and held it against his chest.
This conversation was not going in the direction he needed it to. Randal wasn’t likely to give him much information, if his at odds demeanor continued. Harlan would try a little harsher tactic. He didn’t like to take that approach. It rarely worked, but he was short on time and Randal seemed like someone who might cave under a little pressure applied correctly.
“Where were you the night Storm was poisoned?”
“I don’t have to answer you.”
“You are correct about that too. But isn’t it better to talk to me about this? The police didn’t believe Storm before, but they will when I give them my report.” He had no such report at the moment. And the best he could do is make a few phone calls and put a bug in someone’s ear. The Brotherhood Protectors might have a way in. He could ask his former CO to talk to the people who threw his retirement party.
“Why would the police believe you? Are you a private investigator?”
“Detectives trust my opinion because I’ve worked with many law enforcement agencies. My specialty is human behavior. What you’re saying is you don’t want to answer me because you might incriminate yourself. That’s usually what avoiding questions means, Randal.” Avoiding questions didn’t necessarily mean he had incriminating evidence. Randal could just be nervous, but Harlan wanted to push him a little more and see what came tumbling out.
“I didn’t poison Storm. I would never hurt her like that.” Randal pinched the bridge of his nose, upsetting his glasses. The pillow fell to the floor. He scooped it up and held it close again.
“So, where were you the night she was poisoned?” His phone buzzed in his pocket. He grabbed it and checked. A text came from Meg. She would have to wait, but he didn’t like leaving her hanging if it was important.
“I don’t remember. I may have had a meeting. I’ll have to check my calendar.”
“A meeting with whom?” Whatever Randal claimed, Harlan would have to check it out to confirm he wasn’t at the college. Even if he was at a different location, that didn’t exonerate him from having a part in the crime.
“I belong to a historian club. We discuss major world events. Something you would never understand.” Randal sneered at him. Probably a last-ditch effort to regain some control in the conversation.
He didn’t bother to tell Randal that not only did he know plenty about history and world happenings, but he had been a part of several of them. Randal could study major events all he wanted from afar and discuss them with others who had also watched from the side, but Randal would never know what it was like to live through considerable incidents that would be taught in a classroom for decades.
“I just want to know where you were. This club, does it have a name?”
“The Historians of Tomorrow’s Past Today.”
Harlan would have Waylen do a deep dive on this organization in case they were actually a white supremist group disguised as a bunch of history professors. He doubted the entire group was behind Storm’s problems, but if this tomorrow of today organization wasn’t on the up-and-up, they should be flagged for potential danger.
“Were you upset when Storm became the president?” He doubted Randal would tell the truth on this one. He wanted to see Harlan’s body language more than his answer.
Randal paced the space between the bed and the window. He tossed the pillow onto the chair, but his hands went straight for his pockets and the change began their ruckus again. A drop of sweat ran down the side of his face.
“I wasn’t upset. Shocked was more like it. She didn’t deserve it. She was awarded the position because of Kenneth. He had strong-armed the board into giving her the presidency. He wanted someone on his side to do his bidding. There had been several more qualified candidates up for the job.”
“He doesn’t appear to care for his daughter very much.” Or Randal was just a weaselly jealous ex-husband and Storm had been the best possible candidate.
“Don’t let that act fool you. He loves her in his weird, twisted way. Sure, Kenneth is a giant pain in the butt, but he knows how to play the game too. With Storm in the president’s chair, he can swing the board to vote his way on anything he wants. That’s why he pushed for her to be given the job. His feelings never factored in to his motivation.”
“Did you want to be president?”
“Me? No. But I helped Storm while we were married. It was me who introduced her to faculty members she had snubbed because she couldn’t be bothered. I told her to start coming to the department get-togethers so the board would see her being more involved. I groomed her for the position so the others would notice her and she still wouldn’t make me the provost. The whole time I was helping her, I neglected my own career and ambitions. Now she sits up on the hill and lives in the president’s mansion and I have to stay in campus housing. It isn’t fair.”
“But you just said she wasn’t qualified for the job. Why would you help her try to get it?”
“Because I wanted to be provost. If I helped her, I thought she would help me. It’s what you do in a marriage, isn’t it?”
Now he had motive. Randal was a sad man who had felt emasculated by his more successful wife. He wanted to tell Randal to buck up and be a man, that marriage was not a quid pro quo all the time, but he kept his mouth shut. Was coming in second a reason to try and poison someone? Or was there more Randal wasn’t saying? Harlan would talk to Kenneth first and see what he revealed about his daughter and her ex-husband.
“Thank you, Randal. I appreciate the input.”
“Are you going to find out who did this?”
“I plan on it before I leave this island so Storm can go home and be safe. You want that for her, don’t you?”
Randal kept his gaze turned. “Sure, I do. We all do.”