Chapter 15
Fletcher didn't want to admit it, but he said, "I was at my apartment."
"Alone?” I asked.
"Yes.”
I shared a look with Jack.
"You can't possibly think I had something to do with Sydney's death?”
I shrugged.
"That's ridiculous. I would never do anything to hurt her. You need to be looking at that guy..." He frowned as he thought hard. "I can't remember his name. Peter. No, Patrick. Yeah, that's it. Patrick. She was afraid of him. She told me he was constantly harassing her.”
"We spoke to him,” I said.
"And?"
"He's on our suspect list."
Elated, Fletcher said, "There you go!” He leaned in and said in a hushed tone.
"I'll tell you who else you need to look at…
that company. ERI. Pure evil. They had people following her around, making threats, you name it.
They used all kinds of intimidation tactics, trying to get her not to publicize the dumping.
" He laughed. "Can you believe it? An environmental company breaking environmental laws, dumping toxic waste.
Figures." He looked me dead in the eye. "Everything, and I do mean everything, is all bullshit.
All of it. From the food you eat to the cars you buy—it's all junk. You’re not getting what you think you're getting. Oh no, they sold out to private equity a long time ago. You’re just getting a facsimile of what it used to be. Sad."
I wasn't going to argue.
"We've spoken to the CEO of ERI," I said.
"Fantastic. I feel better already. I just know you boys are going to solve this crime. It's got nothing to do with me. I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for Syd. She was a special girl.” He frowned and hung his head again.
I couldn't tell if he really loved Sydney or if he’d just lost a possession.
I left him a card and told him to get in touch if he thought of anything else that might be helpful. I certainly wasn't ruling him out.
We left the office and smiled at the cute receptionist on the way out. JD and I ambled down the hall and took the elevator down to the main lobby.
"I don't like that guy," Jack muttered. "He seems too stupid to know a good thing when he had one.”
“Maybe he came to that realization and decided if he couldn't have her, nobody could."
We found the Porsche, hopped in, and Jack cranked up the engine. He was like a kid with a new toy. The old car was new again.
He pulled out of the space, and we zipped across town to find Trevor. He bartended at Paradise Palms.
We found a place to park on Oyster Avenue, hopped out, and strolled the sidewalk to the bar.
Tourists drifted up and down the avenue, crawling from bar to bar, shopping, and feasting at the world-class restaurants. There were plenty of sunburned noses and shoulders. Even at this hour, a few tacked up and down the sidewalk like ships in the wind.
Paradise Palms was a beachy restaurant and bar with reclaimed-wood tables and chairs, teal-and-white walls, and lazy fans swirling overhead.
It was a great place to grab a margarita, snack on appetizers, and take in the sights.
The place got pretty happening in the evening with a live band on the patio.
Bikini tops and cut-off jean shorts were the dress code for the ladies, and that always drew a crowd.
I smiled at the cute hostess as we walked to the bar.
I had to laugh at the thought of Fletcher getting in Trevor's face. Trevor would have stomped his ass. At 6’2”, 215 pounds, Trevor was a big guy.
He had wavy dark hair, a square jaw, a dimpled chin, and a day's worth of stubble.
A toothpaste white smile and piercing blue eyes earned him a lot of tips from the ladies.
JD and I leaned against the counter, and I flashed my badge. Trevor made his way over, drying his hands with a rag. "I suppose you're here about Sydney."
I nodded, and a grim frown tightened his mouth.
"I'm still in shock," Trevor said. "It hasn't really hit me yet." He shook his head. "It's all my fault."
That piqued my curiosity. "How so?"
“I went out drinking with some friends last night," Trevor said.
"Sydney said she was going over to her grandfather's house.
He hasn't been doing well. I asked if she wanted me to go with her, and she told me no, go out with your friends.
I knew she was taking it pretty hard, so I asked her if she wanted me to stop by her apartment later in the evening when she got back.
She told me no, go have a good time." His eyes misted.
"If I had just gone back to the apartment to meet her, she might still be alive. "
"Don't beat yourself up over it," I said. "It's not your fault. Unless you killed her."
"I didn't kill her."
"I need the names of your friends, just to verify."
"Sure. No problem.” He wiped the tears when they spilled over, and tried to act like it didn't bother him.
"I know we hadn’t been dating for long, but I really liked Sydney.
I knew there were possibilities there. I didn't even know who her grandfather was or how much money he had until just a few days ago.
It certainly wasn't why I started dating her. "
He sounded genuine.
"Did she ever talk to you about her ex, Fletcher?”
His face tightened with disdain. "I don’t like to talk badly about people, but that guy…" He just shook his head. "I was so glad she got away from him." He sighed. "You think he could have had something to do with this?”
"We’re keeping open to all possibilities.”
He nodded.
"Did she talk to you about Patrick?"
"The whistleblower guy?”
I nodded.
"I know she called me scared a few times.
Said he threatened her. Said he came by the apartment once or twice.
" His lips tightened, and he exhaled a frustrated breath.
"I probably shouldn't say this, but I thought about tracking that guy down and beating his ass.
It wasn't her fault his name got exposed.
He had to know that coming forward he would get outed at some point.
I mean, it sucks that he got fired. But he's got a valid case against them.
" Annoyed, he said, "Hell, what do I know?
I'm just a bartender. But aren’t there whistleblower protection laws, or something like that? "
I nodded. "Tell me about Marissa."
Trevor cringed. "It's kind of an odd coincidence, don't you think? I didn’t know they were friends in grade school.
I'm not from around here. I'd been dating Marissa for about a year.
" He shivered. "Dodged a bullet on that one. She’s certifiable. When she found out I was dating Sydney, she went off. Said all kinds of nasty things. Tried to convince me Sydney was no good. Said she was a whore.”
"You think Marissa is capable of murder?”
He frowned and shrugged. "I guess anybody's capable of murder, given the right circumstances, don't you think?” After a pause, he asked, "I don't know if you can share the details, but how was Sydney killed?”