Chapter Thirty-Four Margo Angelhart
Chapter Thirty-Four
Margo Angelhart
Jack and I had just walked into the office at one that afternoon when my cell phone rang with an unfamiliar number.
“Margo Angelhart,” I answered.
“This is Teri Stockman. You left me a message. But I swear, if this is a sales call, I’m hanging up.”
“I’m a private investigator and have some questions about your ex-husband.”
Silence. Had I lost her?
“What?” she said bluntly. “I have ten minutes before my kids get out of school, and I’m not going to talk about their father
around them.”
This would be good, I thought as I sat down at my desk.
“My firm was hired to run a background check on Peter Stockman. I need to confirm some information.”
“Nine minutes,” she said.
“You were still married to him when he started working for the VA in Phoenix ten years ago, correct?”
“Yes.”
“You filed for divorce four years later. I’ve ordered a copy of the divorce records, but they haven’t arrived at my office yet,” I lied smoothly. “Can you give me a basic summary of what led to the divorce?”
“Really? What is this for?”
“He’s applied for a position at a pharmaceutical company I am not authorized to disclose at this time. We are verifying his
résumé, education, personal and professional references. I can send you up the ladder to my boss if you’d prefer to speak
with the man in charge.”
Jack was staring at me with his mouth slightly open. I didn’t know if he was shocked at how I lied, or that he knew I may
be passing this woman to him if she put up a roadblock.
“No, fine. Can I ask a question?”
“Yes, I will answer if I can.”
“Does the job he may get pay him more money than his current position?”
I have done dozens of background checks for employers and not once has anyone asked me that question. My mind quickly ran
through why she might want to know. Was he late on his child support? Had he stolen money from her? Mortgaged their house?
If I told her that he’d be making substantially more, she might not be honest, thinking she could get part of it.
“I don’t have that information,” I said.
“Probably wouldn’t matter either way,” she said under her breath. “Six minutes.”
“Why did you divorce your husband?”
“Because he lost our children’s college funds gambling,” she said. “This, after he went through the Gamblers Anonymous program.
It didn’t stick apparently, or he lied to me about doing anything about his problem. He stole from our girls. I couldn’t forgive
him, so I left. There was more than that, but that was the big thing.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
Gambling, I thought. Gamblers needed money. He stole from his own children. Was he still gambling? If so, how much? Within his income? Or did he need to find money another way? Like getting paid off to look the other way during a drug trial . . .
So many possibilities. I would ask her about his work, except that she had already moved to Maine before the Neurovantix drug
trial.
“He listed a Mildred Maddox as a professional reference, and stated he’d worked for her for nine years until she retired and
he was promoted to her position. I have a call into her. But he neglected to indicate his direct association with Mrs. Maddox.
Do you recall?”
It was better that Teri didn’t know I’d already spoken to Mildred.
“He worked for Mildred when we were first married. I never thought she’d ever retire, but I remember he told me that she recommended
him for her position when she did. Not that the extra money stopped him from being consistently late with child support. I
don’t even take alimony—I have a job, I do fine—but he hasn’t even replenished their college funds, which he promised to do.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t an answer to a question. Look, Peter is a smart guy who does a great
job at work. He’s always had his bosses and coworkers telling him he’s amazing. So I’m sure he’ll do a great job for your
company, because he always has. He’s never been fired, always goes above and beyond and works long hours. Professionally,
he is a good employee. Personally, he has a lot of failings. I gotta go. My kids are here.”
She hung up.
“Wow,” I said. “Gambling.”
“I can’t believe she told you that,” Jack said.
“She wanted to,” I said. “He may not have been a cheater, but gambling is like adultery in the sense that you feel betrayed by your spouse.”
Jack sat down across from me in my office. “That means what? That he needed the money so looked the other way?”
“Could be. But who paid him? Was it Neurovantix? Because their study wasn’t fully funded at the time.”
“But they were funded shortly after, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, thinking. “When the Phase 2 trial started, they received an influx of money. So maybe he just had to wait
awhile.”
“And when the drug goes to market, maybe he’s in line for more,” Jack suggested. “So when Liz Swanson found the oddities in
Novak’s file, he panicked and killed her.”
“Dad said Devin told Willa Blankenship about the problems in the trial, so she knew. She’s alive. She’s Mildred’s niece, so
did she tell Mildred? Willa’s daughter said that she was a disinterested mother, but very close to her aunt. I can’t see her
keeping this a secret, but maybe she knew all along and her surprise was an act.”
I needed to talk to Willa, and now that I knew she was Mildred’s niece, I wanted to go back to Mildred and ask more questions.
Stockman had no reason to talk to me, but I might just need to confront him. Spontaneously, so he didn’t have time to come
up with lies or find a way to avoid me.
Still, I wanted something tangible before I talked to Stockman. Something he couldn’t refute. Proof that the medical records
were deleted or, as Luisa explained, “merged” with another file.
I called Lu. “Where are you with the medical records?”
“Tess and I are running backgrounds on the staff. But my own independent research has narrowed it down to two people who were
in the office Monday afternoon who could have merged Novak’s record.”
I knew what that meant. “And?” I asked. “Give me something to do.”
“I’ll send the names to you. Do you want me to come when you interview them?”
“I have Jack,” I said.
“Oh. Right.” She sounded disappointed.
“If you need to get out, you can come.”
“Naw, I’ll stick here. Just let me know if one of these pans out.”
I ended the call.
“What did Luisa do?” Jack asked, his voice stern.
“Don’t know what you mean. I have two names.”
“Margo, you know we can’t break laws to get information.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said and headed out.
I definitely couldn’t tell Jack what Luisa and I had done. We had to get the information legally another way, or we could
lose our license. Or possibly go to jail.
I wasn’t going to think about that right now. Not when our father’s freedom was on the line. And there could be a chance we
would never have to explain how we had identified the staff in medical records.
I glanced over my shoulder. “Are you coming?”
He was. But he didn’t look happy.