Chapter 14
Phone calls to the foursome produced unusual responses. Fred and Oriole had divided up the list and all of the golfers said the same thing. Phil was supposed to have joined them, but at 10:35 they started without him. He did join them for lunch about 1:30, telling them that he had an important meeting he just couldn’t miss.
“That moves Phil to the top of the list. I’ll go over to Lisa’s office and interview the staff there. Why don’t you call the stock broker and interview her? We need to find the name of Lisa‘s physician and see if he prescribed Ativan for her or for anyone involved. We need to get hold of the accountant too. The other thing we have to do is find out what happened to that check for $25,000.” Oriole again was handing out assignments, while Fred stared off into oblivion. “Hey, Lover Boy, let’s get this show on the road.” She could tell Fred was preoccupied with personal issues about the weekend.
Oriole arrived at the offices of American Mortgage, located off of Prescott Parkway. Betty Cline met her in the reception area and escorted her to the conference room. A large circular table of mahogany sat dead smack in the middle, surrounded by faux leather barrel chairs. Still visibly upset over the news of the violent death of the manager, Betty wrung her hands as she invited Oriole to be seated.
“This is just terrible. I’ve notified headquarters of course. They said for me to try to handle anything urgent and they’d have someone out in a couple weeks to help figure out what we’re doing. I’m only too glad to help out. Lisa was such a fine person and our clients just loved her. We’re a small mortgage bank, lots of one-on-one work. There have been cards and flowers and plants coming in droves.” Betty dabbed at her eyes. “I do so miss her. We had lunch the day before she died. I can hardly believe she will not be walking through the door smiling and telling a joke.”
“What did she do here?”
“Well, it’s a small office. Just Lisa, myself, I run the office and do most of the closing documents, and Maryanne who replaced the one who is now in jail. Lisa did everything, lots of marketing, closings, doc prep. Maryanne does phones, typing, and office stuff.”
“What about the one that is in jail? Tell me about that.”
“Jennifer Tribble. Boy, did she screw up her life. She was supposed to make sure funds were transferred and closings completed. She made up some dummy accounts in dummy names all on her own and then deposited the funds into her own account. Lisa got onto her because she saw these account names of people she had never met here in the office. So she sent off a survey to the address listed, but the survey came back. Lisa got suspicious and dug into the file and discovered it was phony. She called headquarters and they sent out an accountant who verified the dummy files and that Jennifer was skimming. Charges were filed and she’s doing time.”
“Is she doing jail time or prison time?”
“I don’t know. Is there a difference?”
“Yeah there is. Jail is county time, prison is Department of Corrections.”
“I heard it was here, over in Camp Verde. So jail time. She gave back most of the money. But she’ll never be able to get another job. Funny thing she hated Lisa for turning her in. I mean what else could Lisa do?”
“Do you know if Lisa was on any medications?”
“Hmmm, seems like she had a prescription for something she kept in her desk and another in her purse. She told me once what they were for, but I forgot.”
“Do you know of anyone other than Jennifer who may have wished ill of Lisa?”
“No. All the realtors liked her. All the clients liked her. It just makes no sense.”
“Maybe before I leave can we get the bottle from her desk? On Wednesday last week, what was her schedule?”
“I pulled her calendar off the computer because I thought you might want it. She was here before me. I got here at 7:55. She had an appointment with a client early in the morning and lunch plans with Mr. Mason, her husband. She marked the calendar in handwriting for a meeting with MS. at 1:30. That is the extent of her day.”
“Who is MS.? If you know.”
“I do not. It isn’t anyone from headquarters. We have no clients with those initials. So I don’t know. But she did have the rest of the day marked off with that meeting.”
“Did you see her car that morning and did you notice which purse she was using?”
“No, no. Usually she parks her car in the rear parking lot and comes in the back. I usually park right next to her car. It wasn’t there that morning. I figured her husband dropped her off, but I didn’t ask. So I don’t know for sure. Wait! I did notice her purse. She has one of those universal shoulder comfort purses, you know it’s ergonomically designed and you can put 50 pounds of junk in there. It is a gray-green. She left a note that she had to go meet a client in the field, ‘cause I was on the phone. That‘s the last I saw of her.”
“Anything else you can think of?”
“I just can‘t believe this has happened. I‘m not really thinking clearly, but if I do remember anything else, I will call you.”
Fred had contacted Monique Richards and had an immediate appointment with her.
“Ms. Richards, thank you for seeing me. I’m looking for information about Phil Mason.”
“What is this about?” Monique tipped her head allowing her long blonde hair to fall forward and threw her shoulders back showing off her store boughts.
“I’m looking for anything you can tell me about Mr. Mason.” Fred, immune to feminine wiles, pulled his notebook out and started flipping pages pretending to locate something.
“Well, I know him. He is looking at joining our firm.” She flipped her hair off her shoulder preening for Fred.
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“Hmm, let me think. It must have been last week. We had an appointment to discuss his employment.” Monique knew better than to give false information, but she didn’t want to get too specific.
“Can you check your calendar for the exact date and time?”
“Yes, just a minute.” Monique moved to her computer and opened up the calendar. “It would have been last Wednesday. No time is listed. I think I had told him I’d be in all day and to drop by.”
“Did he show up?”
“Yes, I don’t remember what time. We talked for quite awhile. There was a lot to cover. Is there anything else, officer, I have another appointment.” Monique stood to dismiss the imposition, smoothed her hands down over her hips, still preening.
“Thank you very much for your time. If you think of anything else, will you call me?”
“Certainly. It was a pleasure to meet you.” Monique had turned from Fred and looked intently at her computer. She had dismissed Fred as if he was a lowly creature.