Chapter Eight
The following day, Campbell drove down tree-lined Pughten Road and onto the luxury waterfront estate of Bella Reston, who, he had to admit, played her part admirably in her family legacy by playing up the core values of the town that bore her great-grandfather Arthur Reston’s name.
As Stuart Reston was Mia O’Dell’s last known employer—apparently before she became a member of the Braison Family—it seemed a good place for Campbell to start to get some further insight into Mia’s life before being recruited and, apparently, indoctrinated by the cult.
Beyond that, as Bella was friends with Stefanie, Campbell thought it was a good thing to win Bella’s support in his bid to become closer to Stefanie than he had to anyone in a long time.
I’m sure Bella wants Stefanie to be happy in Reston Hills if I can provide some of that happiness, he told himself.
Walking up to the massive two-story brick house with loads of architectural windows, a big swimming pool in the backyard and in a wooded setting, he recalled coming there once as a boy with his dad. Seemed like a place one could only dream of. But his dreams did not go that far at the time.
Or now, for that matter.
The current version of himself realized that it took more than the size of a house to make a home—if the other aspects failed to fall in place properly.
Apparently, that wasn’t a problem for Bella, having returned to her childhood home with the death of her father four months ago as a single woman after divorcing her husband.
Or was it the other way around? The way he’d heard it, Jeff Lacombe, the ex, whom Bella had met in high school, had cheated on her, and that had ended the marriage, with Jeff and his new girlfriend relocating to New Mexico.
Not my problem, Campbell told himself, sure that with all Bella had to offer, she would have no trouble finding someone else to share her life with—just not him. Assuming that wasn’t already the case.
After ringing the bell, the door opened and Bella’s housekeeper stood there. The thirtysomething medium-size woman with short and curly brunette hair asked, “Can I help you?”
Taking out his badge, Campbell answered, “I need to speak with Ms. Reston,” remembering that Bella had reclaimed her maiden name following the divorce.
“Come in,” the housekeeper said tonelessly.
Campbell walked into a long hall with marble tile and framed family photographs, and past bifurcated stairs, before being led to the great room and asked to wait. He glanced around at the traditional furnishings, floor-to-ceiling windows and an exposed-brick wood-burning fireplace.
“Hello.”
He heard the familiar pleasant voice and turned to face Bella, who smiled.
“Campbell…or should I call you Detective Sawyer?”
He grinned. “Campbell is fine.” Especially since he didn’t want this to seem like an interrogation so much as an informal chat between old acquaintances, if not friends.
“All right.” Bella walked up to him, wearing a sleeveless black wide-leg jumpsuit and flats. “Nice to see you, Campbell. How’s your dad?”
“He’s doing well, thanks.” Campbell appreciated that she asked, remembering that he’d done some work for her father.
She smiled. “So, what brings you my way?”
“Mind if we sit?” he asked, meeting her green eyes.
“Of course. Where are my manners?” Bella eyed a set of maroon Chesterfield chairs angled toward one another by an oval glass table. “Sit.”
Campbell sat down and waited for her to do the same before getting right to it. “As I’m sure you’re aware, we’re investigating the suspicious death of Mia O’Dell.”
Bella gave a nod. “Yes, I’m totally aware of that—thanks, in part, to our mutual friend, Stefanie, who’s been filling me in on any news she picked up on it. How does any of this relate to me?”
“It doesn’t, in so many words,” he told her. “But it does your late father, Stuart Reston, albeit indirectly…”
Bella batted her lashes. “I’m afraid I don’t follow…”
Campbell explained, “As far as we’re aware, Mia’s last-known employer was Stuart, who employed her as a housekeeper. We’re backtracking her life to try and understand how Mia ended up dead in the park on Founder’s Day. Can you tell me anything about her working for your father?”
Bella took a breath and said evenly, “Not too much. I wasn’t living in the house at the time. What I do know is that she was his housekeeper for a few months before he died—seemed as though Daddy had trouble keeping help that lived up to his standards—before he caught her stealing and fired her.”
“Really?” Campbell asked attentively.
“That’s what I was told,” she said, smoothing a brow. “Apparently, it wasn’t the first time she stole from him.”
“Did he say what she stole or tried to steal?”
“Some of my late mother’s jewelry, which he refused to part with.” Bella ran a hand through her hair, which stayed remarkably in place. “As well as money that he often had lying around haphazardly.”
Campbell leaned toward her chair. “Did your father ever report any of this to the police?” If so, he could easily look it up for more details.
“No, I don’t think so. My dad was a private person and preferred not to get the police involved if at all possible.” Bella folded her arms. “He chose instead to simply fire Mia. Feeling she was let off easy, she went on her way without a fuss.”
“I see.” Campbell scratched his jaw. “Had you seen Mia since she was fired?”
Bella met his gaze. “I spotted her on occasion in town—but we never spoke.”
“Did your father ever indicate to you any knowledge that Mia was using drugs?”
“No. But I think if he had ever suspected this, Daddy would almost certainly have fired her on those grounds alone.” Bella frowned.
“As my late mother got addicted to painkillers while battling cancer, my father understood what drugs could do to you. He would never have tolerated substance abuse from one of his employees.”
Campbell understood this. He flashed back to his own mother and her courageous battle with breast cancer to no avail.
Even with the prescription drugs used to control the pain, they never seemed to be enough, and his mother’s suffering really only let up at the end of her journey.
He and his father couldn’t help but find solace that she was finally at peace—even while missing her more than they could once express properly to one another.
Campbell imagined the same was true for Stuart Reston and Bella.
Regarding her, Campbell asked, “Do you have any idea what motivated Mia to join the Braison Family?”
Bella pondered the question, then responded speculatively, “I can only assume that perhaps she was susceptible to their messaging and Kenneth Braison’s powers of persuasion. Beyond that, using and abusing fentanyl—before or after—may have weakened her resistance that much more.”
“You’re probably right on both counts.” Campbell still wasn’t sure if someone from Braison’s orbit—including Kenneth himself—had given Mia the deadly fentanyl. Or if it was someone on the outside. “I don’t suppose you would know if Mia was seeing anyone when she worked for your father?”
“Sorry. Can’t help you there.” Bella pursed her lips. “I hardly spoke to Mia when visiting my dad, and he never mentioned her having a boyfriend, girlfriend or whatever.”
“Okay.” From what they had come up with thus far, it did appear that Mia was not romantically involved with anyone. At least not outside the Braison Family. But they were still looking into cell phone records that might provide more clues into her final days.
Bella eyed him and said inquisitively, “So, Stefanie mentioned that you were looking into whether there might be a Braison Family connection between Mia’s death and the death of the woman at the park on Founder’s Day twenty years ago.”
“That’s true.” He didn’t deny it, knowing she was around then to remember what had to be big news in Reston Hills on that of all days. “There are some similarities between what happened to Mia and Lynda Boxleitner two decades ago that bear checking out.”
She cocked a brow. “I know that Wendell Braison was once considered a suspect in that Founder’s Day murder. If he really killed her, do you honestly think Kenneth Braison could have followed his lead in killing Mia as another member of the Braison Family? Why would he do that?”
“People kill for all types of reasons,” Campbell pointed out matter-of-factly.
“Some are more complicated than others. Some less. Could be that the Braisons felt empowered to do as they pleased to protect what was theirs. Even to the point of murder, albeit decades apart. If neither Braison had anything to do with the deaths, then we’ll look elsewhere.
Until then, they both will continue to be persons of interest here.
” Probably said more than I needed to, Campbell thought, but somehow felt that she understood, having a vested interest in solving both deaths, if at all possible.
Bella made a face. “If the Braisons were behind the fatal poisoning of two innocent women and you’re able to prove it, I certainly hope they get what’s coming to them. No one should have to die like that. Especially if it was part of a warped cult act of revenge or as some sort of human sacrifice.”
“I couldn’t agree more about the tragic manner in which they died.” Campbell drew a breath. “Time will tell if there is some symmetry here that ties the father to the son—or the Braison Family itself to one or both deaths.”
She nodded. “As the sole representative of the Reston family legacy, I do hope you can do right by the town in putting at least Mia’s death to rest, if not Lynda Boxleitner’s.”
“I’ll do my best,” he promised, then added, to lighten the mood a little, “No pressure, right?”
“Not from me.” Bella smiled. “I’m sure you have enough of that from others.”
Campbell grinned, welcoming her pressure-free support. He supposed that the most pressure he felt right now, he put upon himself. As his father had before him. He fixed his gaze to her face and said, “Thanks for the chat. I’d better let you get back to your day.”
They stood and walked to the front door, where Bella stated, “I’m glad you stopped by, Campbell.” She looked at him with a soft smile. “I was hoping to catch up with you and see how the case was coming along—seeing that Stefanie wound up being part of the investigation, as she found Mia’s body.”
Campbell jutted his chin. “Yeah, that was unfortunate. But it gave me the opportunity to meet Stefanie, who’s strong enough to weather what she went through and continue to fit in the community.”
“Thanks, in part, to you,” Bella told him. “She really likes you, which I’m sure you already know.”
“Yeah.” Campbell blushed. “I think it works both ways.”
“Good to know. Stefanie’s heart is in the right place. She deserves a second opportunity to experience love—if it comes her way…”
“Don’t we all.” He wondered if she was experiencing this again herself with anyone. Or still waiting for the right person to come along, with her busy life and all.
Once inside his SUV, Campbell pondered just how long it would take for real love to develop between him and Stefanie. Patience was something he was good at and clearly this was true for her as well.
The rest would have to work itself out.
* * *
JASMINE ROXBURGH HESITATED as she approached the ranch house Kenneth lived in with his latest girlfriend, Siobhan Froggatt.
Siobhan was from London, England, and had been drawn to the Braison Family ever since arriving in the States two years ago, finally working her way to Kenneth’s bed when he tired of his prior bedmate—whom Jasmine suspected had been Mia O’Dell.
Now Mia was dead from a drug overdose, and the Braison Family, after a few parting words from Kenneth, seemed to be going about its business as though she was yesterday’s news and no longer pertinent to speak about further.
But more troubling to Jasmine was how Mia, whom she’d considered a friend and not a drug user, came to have fentanyl in her system. Did she get it from someone inside the compound? What did Kenneth know that he was keeping from the police?
Jasmine considered the search by the authorities that came up empty yesterday.
It went as expected, with Kenneth and Juan seeing to it that anything they had to cause suspicion—including loaded weapons—was well hidden.
She’d wanted to speak to Detective Sawyer, but was too afraid to even try, with eyes everywhere and anywhere.
Then there was Stefanie, with whom Jasmine felt a kinship. Jasmine had learned that she was the one to discover Mia’s body. Was that what had brought Stefanie to the compound, before Kenneth sent her away?
Jasmine knocked on the front door, and a follower named Eva opened it. In her early twenties and rail thin with long, stringy blond hair and big blue eyes, Eva asked, “Are you looking for Kenneth?”
“Yes,” Jasmine said, second-guessing if it was truly a good idea to approach him directly about Mia.
“Come in.” Eva smiled at her. “He’s in his office with Siobhan and Juan.”
“All right.” Jasmine walked alongside Eva on dark hardwood flooring and past farmhouse furnishings in an open-concept layout, knowing that there was never any wandering around the house alone unless you were part of Kenneth’s inner circle, which she wasn’t.
Eva knocked on the door, and a voice gave her permission to open it. She looked at Jasmine and said, ill at ease, “You can go in now.” Eva added, as if feeling it might be needed, “Good luck.”
Jasmine smiled softly at her, replying, “Thanks.”
When she walked into the big office, which had a large picture window and wooden furniture, Jasmine spotted the three people huddled around each other conspiratorially.
Kenneth broke away and approached her. He asked in a friendly tone, “How can I help you, Jasmine?”
“I was wondering if I could talk to you about Mia?” Jasmine replied tentatively.
“Of course.” He looked over his shoulder at Juan and Siobhan, who was a dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty in her mid-twenties, tall and shapely, and told them, “Leave us.”
Juan glared and Siobhan pouted as they walked past her. Once they were out of the office, closing the door behind them, Kenneth peered at Jasmine and asked with an edge to his voice, “So, what’s on your mind?”
Jasmine suddenly felt tongue-tied as she contemplated where to go from here.