CHAPTER 4

Sergeant Larry Carlisle stood outside the door of the interrogation room where Sharon Plessy sat impatiently. When she wasn't texting someone, she was tapping her lighter on the table and the veteran cop couldn't help wondering if she was always so agitated or if the investigation that was now underway had something to do with her behavior. Twenty minutes after receiving the call from Hoyt to go pick her up and bring her in for questioning he had shown up on her doorstep along with his partner Tim Newhall. It took both of them to convince her that it was in her best interest to accompany them to the station. She had made a couple of calls to her lawyer's office only to be told both times that he would be in court all day and wouldn't be available. Something just seemed odd about her and after so many years on the force, the sergeant had a well-developed ability to read people.

Hoyt stepped off of the elevator with the Houstons and came partway down the hallway where Carlisle stood guarding the doorway, motioning for him to come to his office. "Stay here, Tim; keep a good eye on her and don't let her out for nothin'. Understand?"

"Yep." Newhall nodded.

When Larry reached the coffee pot where the lieutenant was pouring two cups he spied the couple inside of Hoyt's office and knew from the expression on Houston's face that the conversation he was having with his wife was a serious one.

"Have a cup, Sarge." Michael handed over one of the coffees and turned to lean against the wall. "I want to give them a minute."

"Something wrong?" Carlisle took a sip of the coffee and reached for the creamer that sat next to the coffee pot, stirring it in until it reached the desired color.

"Little disagreement earlier."

"Doesn't look like they're disagreeing now." Smiling as he took a sip he saw the lieutenant's face as he looked inside and saw the pair kissing.

"Thank goodness." Hoyt took another sip. "When they get into it it kind of reminds me of when my mom and dad would have an argument – scares the crap out of me." He saw the smirk on the older man's face and changed the subject. "What's your impression of Plessy?"

"She's not happy to be here; tried the calling the lawyer deal – ain't happening. He's in court."

"Anything else?"

After a long swallow of the hot liquid he motioned down the hallway. "Likes to text, is pissed because she can't smoke here..." He saw the detective's expression. "Something just seems off. She's kinda jumpy – I get the impression that maybe she knows something, though. But I wouldn't be a bit surprised if you get told to kiss off until her lawyer is available."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Hoyt snuck a glance into the office where the couple was still in each others' arms kissing. "Guess I better interrupt them before they close they blinds." He rolled his eyes as Carlisle chuckled behind the styrofoam cup. Just then his cell phone rang. "What have you got, Cheryl?"

"Some doctored footage from the storage place." The tech was sitting two floors up at her desk and swiveling agitatedly in the chair. "It was conveniently turned off about noon yesterday."

"So we've got absolutely nothing video wise?"

"Not a damn thing."

"Okay, thanks for taking a look at it."

"Oh, I'm not done yet. I'm going to see if I can find anything else on what I do have. I've got about three days worth."

"Good. Have you talked to Bob this morning?"

"He told me the manager was dead in his car up on Mt. Wilson Road. All the more reason to go back in the footage."

"You're the best."

"I'll be sure to pass that on to Bob. Call you if I find something." She hung up and began scanning the images in front of her.

Larry and Hoyt walked into the lieutenant's office and after exchanging greetings with the sergeant, Matt grabbed a cup of coffee and they all went down the hall, CJ and Carlisle going into the adjoining room to watch the conversation while Matt and Michael went in to have a chat with Plessy. Hoyt started off the conversation first by thanking her for coming to speak with them and then by asking her how she had come to sell the storage business to De Fiore.

"I don't see that it's really any of your business." Plessy eyed both men. Matt remained silent sitting across the table with his feet propped up on the corner as was his custom. He watched her over the rim of the coffee cup.

"Ordinarily I would agree with you, Ms. Plessy. But considering what has happened in the last twenty four hours, it does make us wonder."

"I don't have anything to do with that business any more. What happened there is of absolutely no concern to me."

"What can you tell me about Dale Bishop?" Hoyt tried another approach. No information had been released about the death of Bishop and he was anxious to see what, if any, reaction she might have to the revelation that her former employee was dead.

"He managed the place for me. I put him in charge of the day to day operations."

"Uh huh. So he's a good manager?"

"Obviously or he wouldn't have been there for very long."

"What do you know about him personally? Any financial or personal problems?"

"I wouldn't know. Honestly, I can't understand why you sent that patrol car for me. It's been months since I sold the place."

"Did you recommend Mr. Bishop to the new owner?"

"Not really." She looked across at Matt who had been watching her the whole time with absolutely no expression on his face at all and hadn't taken his eyes off of her.

"What about the other employees? How many did you have working there when you owned it?"

"There were four. Dale, Lewis Gonzales, Ronnie Pilkins, and Blaine Richey."

Matt knew that Blaine Richey was the only one that was no longer employed there. He momentarily took his eyes off of Plessy and stared at the mirror, knowing that CJ was on the other side.

In the observation room, the lawyer removed the laptop from the case that she had brought up with her and began working the keyboard, knowing without a doubt that her husband wanted information on Richey. Larry watched as her fingers flew across the keyboard. In a couple of minutes she was sending her husband a text. Richey has dropped off the radar since De Fiore took over. As she set the phone down she continued looking for more information on the man. "Very interesting..."

"What's that?" The sergeant kicked back in the chair and nodded as she passed on what she had found. "Hmmm...wonder if he up and left of his own free will or if his new boss got rid of him?"

"Don't know. He was single, thirty two years old, and lived a few miles from the storage facility. It looks like he was there one day and gone the next." She went through records of the sale of the business. "Plessy sold the business in August...the sixth to be exact..." Working through the information she paused again. "And made a pretty penny on the deal according to the property records. That's highly unusual."

"For a mob guy to pay somebody a premium price? Uh huh." Larry had been around long enough to know that connected people rarely over paid for anything. "Something sure seems outta whack here."

"Uh huh..." CJ continued looking for Richey and couldn't find a trace of him anywhere.

Inside the interrogation room, Matt had received the message and went back to staring across the table at Plessy who was clearly loosing all patience at that point. "Honestly, I don't know what you people want. And unless you plan on charging me with something..."

Matt finally spoke up. "Have you talked to Blaine Richey lately?" His eyes were locked across the table on hers and there was a faint flicker of something when he spoke the name, but it lasted only a split second and he couldn't figure out exactly what it was.

"Blaine? No. Why would I?"

"Just wondered."

"Okay, that's it." She stood up and began rummaging in her bag, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

"You can't smoke in here." Hoyt watched her.

"Your officer made that abundantly clear already, Lieutenant. Now if you'll excuse me..." She went to the door and found her pathway blocked by Tim Newhall.

"Lieutenant?" The young cop stayed where he was.

"Let her go, Tim." Houston interrupted Hoyt who was about to haul her back into the room and now gave the PI an exasperated look. Stepping away from the door the officer let her pass and noticed the look of irritation that passed between the lieutenant and Houston.

Michael stood up and scooted up his chair as the irate woman stormed to the elevator. He waited a few seconds before speaking. "What exactly do you think you're doing, Houston?"

"Just trying to see how she would react."

"And?"

"She didn't really seem upset at the fact that Blaine is missing, did she? Or surprised for that matter." Both men went out into the hallway and were met a second later by CJ and Larry. "Nobody gets a deal like that from the mob, Michael. So maybe he wasn't actually paying her."

"Maybe the money was coming right back to him?" Larry had been slightly confused by the PI's line of questioning, but knew that he had a good reason for it nonetheless.

"Uh huh. CJ, we need to look into the world of Sharon Plessy a little closer." He wrapped an arm around her waist and they went to the elevator, leaving Michael to ponder over what he had just said as Larry downed the rest of his coffee.

"Anything else, LT?" The older cop tossed his cup in a nearby trash can.

"No, that's all, Sarge. Thanks for your help."

"C'mon, kid. Back to the grind."