“I’m not so sure about that.” She paused. “I looked into Pearson. He's a powerful guy. Got a shit ton of money. A lot of social connections and a large venture capital firm. That’s the kind of guy who can make my life miserable. That's the kind of guy who can afford to have me killed.”
"No one's going to kill you. No one knows you made the complaint, and that information is protected.”
She scoffed. "You expect me to trust the system? The same system that tried to screw me over and put me in jail for the rest of my life?”
I understood her concern.
"Sit tight. We'll look into this. Don't start investigating this on your own.”
"Believe me, I'm staying away from this one from now on. I've had my fill of it. I've done my good deed. No more.” Another exasperated sigh escaped her lips. "You know what they say. No good deed goes unpunished."
I told her we'd be in touch.
As we started to leave, she said, "You know, if I strangled a girl in my house, I'd have to get her out of there somehow.”
“That’s a common predicament killers find themselves in.”
“If I lived in Pearson’s house, I'd probably conceal the body and carry it across the backyard to the canal. I’d put her into the boat, then take her out to sea and dump her with an anchor tied to her waist. The body would never be found. Hard to prosecute a murder when you can't find the body, isn't it?”
She had a point.
That sense of dread filled me. There was a good chance we’d never pin this case on Pearson or anyone else, for that matter.
We left the apartment and walked the hall toward the elevator.
“Think she’s off her rocker,” JD said.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Why go through the trouble?”
“Some people like attention.”
“Where’s Riley?”
“Maybe we should talk to her ex-boyfriend?”
29
Caleb hadn’t returned my call. It was a little suspicious.
Isabella tracked his phone and told me we could find him at the Mangrove Grill. It was fine dining, but it had a more relaxed atmosphere during the day. You could get in with a T-shirt and cargo shorts for lunch. That wouldn't fly for dinner.
The decor was crisp and elegant. Well-spaced tables, secluded booths, and lots of greenery. It was a mix of New American cuisine and local favorites. The presentation was spectacular, and you could get everything from a Kobe beef burger to coconut pink shrimp.
A cute blonde hostess greeted us.
I flashed my badge. “Looking for Caleb. Is he around?”
Her face went long. "Oh, yeah. I think so. Is he in some kind of trouble?"
"No trouble. We just need to ask him a few questions.”
She looked at her seating chart, then glanced around the restaurant. She spotted Caleb and pointed, "There he is.”
I thanked her, and we weaved through the restaurant to catch up with him. Caleb was a tall, slender guy with shaggy brown hair, a narrow face, and brown eyes. He took an order from a table and said, "Thanks. I'll have that right out. My name is Caleb. Just holler if you need anything."
When he turned around, we were there to greet him. His eyes fixed on the badge for an instant as he froze in his tracks. He looked a little surprised and uncomfortable.
I made introductions.
