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“Wives?” Tres grinned in the way of those who can either see the humor or develop bitterness. “My fatherreallyliked romance. Five wives after mom. Each one younger and bustier than the last. They were women in need of a dashing knight, and my father . . .” Tres shook his head. “He wanted to be young and in love.”
All I wanted was to leave. Guilt was rising up. If the late Mr. Chaddock was murdered, there was little he could tell us now. Death was traumatic, especially if it was murder. Not that I thought waiting ten to fifteen years for answers would make it better, but I had ended the possibility of answers for the Chaddocks.
“I’m sorry,” I offered. “For your loss. And your current situation.”
Eli looked between me and Tres. His expression was not damning, but I knew him as well as he knew me. He heard my guilt—and possibly the fact that I felt slightly kinder because of it.
“We should depart, Geneviève.” He motioned toward the door.
“Miss Crowe?” Tres stepped closer. “Could I call upon you? My father didn’t decide to be a mindless corpse. He loved his wife, and he was a good businessman. Smart. Ruthless. There was no way he was going to give up either hobby.”
Eli’s tone of disapproval was abundantly clear even though all he said was “Geneviève . . .”
I held up my hand. If Tres was right, I shouldn’t have been hired to behead Alvin Chaddock. Although they would have needed to warehouse Chaddock senior for at least a decade, they could have had their answers.
“It was a standard contract,” I explained gently. “The ‘make sure my loved one doesn’t eat me or someone else’ deal. Usually, the family hires me, tells me where the deceased is interred, death date, and I verify that theyarefamily. You couldn’t hire me to behead anyone other than a relative. She’s hiswidow. I just did the job.”
Tres sighed. “I don’t blameyou, Miss Crowe, and I actually understand why Alice hired you. I am well aware that my father would have been opposed to being resurrected, but . . . he wasn’t ill. He should be alive still. Properly alive.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said, meaning it. “I’m not sure I can help, though. I’m a hired gun, not a detective.”
“If you come across another corpse that seems unlikely to have requested envenomation, will you let me know? I need to know who murdered my father.”
I nodded at him. I didn’t ask what he intended to do. Maybe he was law abiding. Maybe he wasn’t. It wasn’t my business.
After a tense moment, Eli spoke. “There will be a retainer fee, of course, if you want Ms. Crowe to seek intelligence of use to you.”
I shot a look at him.
Eli continued, “And we will require a list of the members of your father’s club. I can set up alerts on the obits for them.”
“Sure. Wait right here.” Tres stood and left us there alone.
“A retainer?” I glared at Eli. “Since when do I get a retainer for sending a text or whatever?”
“Since you’re making decisions out of guilt.” Eli grabbed my hand in his gloved one and squeezed.
I felt deflated. My anger washed away, and I closed my eyes.
Eli and I waited in silence for another few moments.
Tres returned with a sheaf of pages. There were far more members of the hate-group than I’d have expected. Hundreds of people had joined together not only to share hate but to act on it. That might not be what they told themselves they were doing, but once you put your money and time into a group to talk about hate, eventually actions would follow. The worst part was that perfectly “nice” people were capable of irrational hate that destroyed others’ lives or careers.
While I glanced at the sheaf of names in horror, Eli simply took the pages and gave Tres a business card. “Please, let us know if you—or your associates—will need to contact Crowe Services. I can send you a bill for the retainer in this case.”
“Thank you, Eli.” Tres handed Eli his card as well.
I stood.
Tres looked at me and held out another card. Eli reached over and plucked it from Tres’ hand. Apparently, he wasn’t allowing me the courtesy of a number to contact Tres. Obviously, I wasn’t going to be a bitch in front of a client, but I glanced at Eli with anger in my eyes.
Tres added, “It was a pleasure, Geneviève, despite the circumstances.”
“Sure.” I felt like a dunce the moment I said it.Sure?Super professional.
“Perhaps we could meet for lunch to discuss matters?”
“Perhaps,” I agreed.
