The Price of Greed

CHAPTER 27

Back in his car, Hood called the station and asked Scott to check the Enland's household phone records for the entire night of the murder also to find out what he could about, Charlotte d'Bouvier.

"Another woman in your life, laddie?"

"Not hardly, Taber. Not hardly. Can you make that a rush... the phone calls?"

"Just for you, laddie."

********

Charlotte stood in the doorway to the lanai room and gave Gloria a curious stare.

"That confession pretty much seals your fate with Victor, my dear."

"I could have lied just now, who's to say?"

"I tend not to believe that, my dear, but I think that if you had accepted my offer things might have worked out differently."

Gloria said nothing and the two women locked eyes, each assessing the other's motives.

********

The Hound's Room was nearly empty. Tall vases of artificial fronds and flowers lined the pathway to the interior where faux hunting prints, ten times too big, hung threateningly over the dark, leather padded booths. Jarlayne accepted the bright smile from the bartender as she paused to see if Cutter had arrived.

"I can help if you like." The bartender called, setting down his cleaning rag and leaning eagerly over the bar.

"I'm supposed to meet somebody here." She looked at her watch.

"There's a big guy in the booth behind the tree over there." He pointed dejectedly.

She walked past the artificial fig tree and saw Derrick Cutter hunched over what appeared to be a large Bloody Mary.

"Derrick Cutter?"

"I am. And you are the famous, Jarlayne Brighton." She slipped into the booth across from him without acknowledging the snow.

"You mentioned Milo French and a connection to Grover Metcalf."

"Can I buy you a drink first? Something to sort of—"

"I didn't come to party, Cutter. Get to the point."

"Whoops. Okay. Milo French was passing software secrets from Enland to Grover Metcalf." She said nothing. Just stared. "Don't you find that interesting?"

"I already know that." She said with a straight face.

Cutter's face fell. "Well how about French and Mrs. En—"

"I know that too, and about the divorce. The papers, remember?" She sighed and leaned back. "Just why did you call me, Mr. Cutter. You must have known that I had that information already, and if you didn't, you have a nerve calling yourself an investigator."

He took a gulp of his drink and fiddled with the glass for a moment before continuing. How the hell did she know?

"You're right. I really wanted to ask you about the call you received from Metcalf the night he was killed." Now her opinion changed and she sat a little straighter, considering him. He was astute enough to find that tidbit. Since she had nothing to hide she answered.

"He wanted to hire me."

"Why?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Cutter looked nervous. "I tried to jack him up over the software deal." He shrugged and canted his head. "It's a tough living."

Well, well, well. "What happened?"