Chapter 11
“Well, not only was Liam coaching Gwen, he was giving extra attention to her daughter, Stephanie,” Blair said in a disapproving tone. “And she’s still in high school.” Then she added, “You didn’t hear that from me.”
“Of course,” I said. "Just to clarify, are you telling me that Liam was having a sexual relationship with Gwen’s daughter?"
I shared a look with JD. I'm sure Stephanie's father wouldn't approve either. He might even go so far as to take matters into his own hands and beat the tennis pro to death with a racket.
"Stephanie’s a talented girl," Blair continued.
“I think she could be a professional if she keeps her head on straight and doesn't get distracted.” Blair shrugged.
“But who knows? The trauma from this whole thing could have dire consequences.
She may never recover." She almost seemed to revel in saying that.
I got the impression she didn't care much for Gwen Wescott or her daughter.
"Where's your husband now?" I asked.
"I suppose he's at the office. You’re not seriously considering him a suspect?”
"At this point, I'm keeping my mind open to all possibilities. Given your history with Liam, he has a motive.”
The muscles in her jaw flexed. "I can assure you, my husband is unaware of my indiscretions. I'm not a fool. I know how to cover my tracks."
"I hear that a lot from people who end up getting caught. Overconfidence can be a flaw."
She frowned at me.
"Do you have Poppy Winslow's number handy?”
"I do. Why?"
"I'll need to speak with her."
Blair shifted uncomfortably. "Certainly, I can give you her contact information. But I would appreciate it if our conversation remains between us. My private life does not need to become the fodder for the rest of the neighborhood or the country club.”
"My interest is strictly getting to the bottom of this case. There's a killer running around, and I intend to catch him or her."
"Well, I hope you do. This is frightening.”
I handed her a card, and she texted me Poppy's number. I told Blair to get in touch if she thought of anything relevant.
She watched with concern as we left and strolled back down the walkway to the Porsche. I had no doubt she'd be on the phone with Poppy and her husband.
I climbed behind the wheel, cranked up the engine, and set out to find David Duval.
Jack grinned. "We sure are making a lot of people uncomfortable.”
"This is just the beginning."
David Duval was the CEO of a pharmaceutical company, Hypexion Labs. It was located in the Coral Crest building on Azure Park.
My phone buzzed with a call from Dr. Stockton's girlfriend, Elana, on the way over. I had left a voicemail and asked her to return my call. I swiped the screen, held the phone to my ear, and said, "This is Deputy Wild?”
"Hi, this is Elana Marx returning your call," she said in a timid voice.
"Thanks for getting back to me. I just need to ask you a few questions.”
She cleared her throat. "Certainly.”
"Can you tell me where you were last night between 8 and 10:00 PM?”
“Yes. I was at my apartment with Dr. Stockton.”
“What time did he leave?”
“I guess it was about 9:30 PM, maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“He was definitely out of there by 10:00 PM. He said he needed to get home before his wife did.”
I thanked her for the information and told her I might be in touch.
We pulled into the lot at Coral Crest. I found a place to park, and we hopped out and strolled into the lobby.
"How are you holding up?" I said to JD.
"I’m good. A little sore. Getting hungry, but…"
I figured we’d get something to eat after we talked to David.
I flashed my badge at the receptionist at the main desk. She told us where we could find the CEO.
It was a mixed-use professional building.
Florida sunshine spilled in through the skylights in the atrium.
A waterfall trickled, and greenery decorated the space.
We took the glass elevator up to the 7th floor and stepped into another luxurious lobby.
A giant flatscreen was on a product loop for the company.
This was Hypexion’s corporate office. From here, they managed distribution, marketing, compliance and liability, reporting, and so on. They outsourced manufacturing, clinical trials, and everything else.
I flashed my badge at the cute girl behind the desk. “Looking for David Duval.”
"Do you have an appointment?"
"No. This is more of an impromptu meeting."
"I'll see what I can do." She smiled, picked up the phone, and dialed an extension. “Christy, two deputies are here to see Mr. Duval. It seems urgent.” She listened for a response. “Okay. I’ll let them know.” She hung up and smiled at us.
“Please have a seat. Someone will be with you shortly. Can I get you something to drink? Water? Coffee?”
“No, thank you,” I replied.
JD and I took a seat on the comfy leather sofa. I flipped through a car magazine, and Jack turned the pages of a boating mag.
A few minutes later, high heels clattered down the hallway. Christy strutted into the lobby and flashed a brilliant smile. She was a striking blonde with wavy hair that danced around her shoulders. “Deputies, Mr. Duval will see you now.”
We stood up and followed her down a hallway to the big man’s office. She was a nice follow.
Duval’s office was sleek and modern with all the amenities.
There was a mini bar, a flatscreen display, a couple of couches, a coffee table, a dartboard, and a mini basketball hoop to occupy himself during times of extreme boredom.
The walls were lined with pictures of David on the golf course and on fishing boats with his buddies.
In his mid-50s, David had salt-and-pepper hair, mostly salt.
Age had softened his jawline a bit, but he was still a handsome man and reasonably fit.
He had narrow blue eyes that didn't miss much.
Dressed in a designer suit and tie, David had style and sophistication.
He greeted us with a warm smile and a handshake.
The Patek Philippe on his wrist told me the company was doing well.
Not everybody had a spare hundred grand to drop on a watch.
"I suppose you're here to talk about the tragedy at the club?”
I nodded.
Christy excused herself and strutted back down the hallway.
I said, "I take it you've already talked to your wife?”
"Yes, she called and gave me a heads up. Said you were on your way. I assume you're speaking with everyone at the club.”
"Everyone whose wife was taking lessons from Liam Prescott."
David was no dummy. He didn’t get to be CEO of the company by missing the obvious. "I suppose you boys think I got jealous and beat him to death."
"Did you?”