Reese took a step back, hoping to get some fresh air rather than continuing to inhale the toxic fumes she called perfume.
“Has your husband received any threats recently?”
The question seemed to surprise her because she took a step back, and suddenly her throat had dried up along with her words.
“My client has already provided all she knows to the police,” Peter stated. “I’m sure they’ve got a record of her statement.”
“Actually,” Reese raised his voice slightly, “the statement they have on file is you sayin’ she has nothin’ to say. Perhaps we should have her go down to the station so we can do this legit and on record.”
His eyes narrowed, but before he could say something stupid, Reese directed his next question at the wife. “Did you know the other partners well?”
“Of course she did,” Peter stated, stepping forward and blocking Mrs. Hawkins from view. “They were in business with her husband.” He motioned toward the door. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, my client needs time to grieve.”
Reese’s eyebrows locked down as he pinned his gaze on the lawyer’s face. “Grieve what? As far as we know, her husband’s missin’, not dead. Or does she know somethin’ we don’t?”
“Please see yourself out, Detective.”
Reese didn’t bother clarifying that he wasn’t a detective. He knew when to back off and now was certainly the time.
Without another word, he walked out of the house, giving the butler a quick scan on the way. Perhaps they should try talking to the staff. Maybe they had some insight into what the hell was going on here.
“Anything?” Brantley asked when Reese joined him at the truck.
“Mrs. Hawkins needs time to grieve,” he relayed. “The lawyer’s words.”
Brantley’s gaze swung back to the house. “She’s hidin’ something.”
Yes, she most certainly was.
“I’d like to talk to the wives of the partners,” Reese told him.
“Great minds,” Brantley stated. “I’ve got addresses.”
Chapter Nine
Baz let Allison lead the charge with the investment company. Not necessarily because he wanted to, but Allison seemed determined to be in front, and the last thing he needed was a public confrontation when they were hoping to identify people who would willingly open up to them.
He had worked with aggressive go-getters before, both men and women. But there was something about Allison that set his nerves on edge. Baz figured it was better to observe than get in the way.
At least for now.
“Mr. Alexander, could you please tell us when the last time you spoke to Mr. Hawkins was?” Allison prompted.
Mr. Alexander, a.k.a. Joel, was HJW Investments’ PR representative who’d been shoved at them the minute they walked in the door asking to speak with Cedric Hawkins’s secretary, the woman who’d called the police regarding his absence. Why this guy was acting as a brick wall between them and real information, Baz didn’t know. However, he did know Joel could tell them nothing about Mr. Hawkins’s whereabouts as of late. Hell, maybe not ever.
“Mr. Hawkins was in the office yesterday,” Joel told them.
“And you spoke to him then?” Allison asked.
“I did not, no.”
“When did you speak to him last?” she questioned.
“I do not work directly alongside Mr. Hawkins, so our paths don’t cross day to day.”
“But you saw him?” Baz asked, growing irritated by the second.
“I did not, no.”
Allison’s tone remained syrupy sweet. “As you can understand, we’re in the process of tracing Mr. Hawkins’s movements for the past twenty-four hours, hoping it’ll lead us to where he might’ve gone. I’m sure someone here interacted with him yesterday, so it’d be in everyone’s best interest if we can speak with them.”
“I’m sorry, no. At the moment, no one here knows where Mr. Hawkins might be, but we will notify the police as soon as we hear from him.”
“So you’re expecting to hear from him?” Allison asked, head tilting, frustration settling on her expression.
“I am not, no.”
Well, at least he’d gotten the canned response down pat.
They were getting nowhere, and honestly, Baz didn’t have time for the runaround. They were under the gun, and the fact this company was putting up a wall between them and their employees was concerning.
“Do you have a restroom?” Baz asked, interrupting. “Little too much coffee this morning.”
“I … uh…” Joel motioned to the door behind him. “Through there, but I don’t—”
“Thank you.” Baz nodded at Allison, then strolled through the closed door that led to the offices.
He didn’t have to use the restroom, but he did want to talk to someone who actually knew what was going on here. Someone who might’ve worked with Cedric Hawkins and could attest to his demeanor the last time they saw him. It wouldn’t give them much, but shit, at this point, they had nothing.
Just beyond the doors was proof this was a company that had held up well through struggling economic times. The decor was modern and fresh, with opaque glass walls separating the reception area from the rest of the space. Light-colored lacquered wood and bright LEDs in the ceiling woke things up nicely. The furniture looked high-end and was spread out, offering that open, airy feel for anyone who might be forced to chill in the waiting room.
He noticed the receptionist sitting at the main desk was dabbing a tissue at her eyes. Clearly she was upset, and Baz doubted her tears and Cedric Hawkins’s disappearance were a coincidence.
“Excuse me,” he said softly. “I’m with the OTB Task Force, and we’re lookin’ into Mr. Hawkins’s disappearance. Could you help me? Or maybe direct me to someone who can?”
The woman looked up as she sniffled, her gaze sliding past him toward the doors he’d come through.
“It’s all right,” he assured her, relaxing his shoulders, going for the laid-back vibe. “My partner’s out there talkin’ to Joel. I’m not trying to cause problems, just need to figure out where Mr. Hawkins is.”
He could tell she was hesitant, had probably been told she wasn’t allowed to speak to anyone. But in those deep brown eyes of hers, he saw pain.
“Did you know Mr. Hawkins?” he asked, aiming for casual.
She nodded.
Glancing down, he found the sign on the desk with her name on it. Crystal Smith.
“Crystal, do you know where Mr. Hawkins might go if he doesn’t come into the office? Besides his house? Maybe a restaurant? A favorite coffee shop?”
“No,” she said softly. “He’s always here. Always.”
“And he was here yesterday?”
Crystal nodded again.
“Do you know what time he left?”
“Right at six. We were supposed to go—”
She cut herself off, but not before Baz got the gist. He had a feeling Crystal was closer to Cedric than anyone else in this building. A little too close for a married man, perhaps.
“Crystal, I want to find Cedric, but I can’t do that without your help. I’m not here to judge, but I need to know where to start looking for him.”