“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 todrop 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?”
12
