Murdered by Success Read online

  She returned to Joe over and over again, breaking down his will before she’d surrender hers. She lay down on top of his feet, as if making the point that she wasn’t allowing him to go anywhere without her, and that was that. He walked her every night, sometimes for hours at a time, just to get away from people.

  But everything else was falling apart.

  And it was all Connor Moynahan’s fault.

  CHAPTER 7

  Liz walked in the restaurant and looked around for Julita. She spotted her sitting at a table in the back, sipping on a can of soda. When Liz walked over to the table Julita said, “Thank you so much for picking me up.” She finished her soda and tossed the can into the trash. “I’m really sorry about this.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Liz said as they walked out of the restaurant and over to Liz’s car. “I’m sorry things turned out like this.”

  “Me, too,” Julita said with a heavy sigh. “And I’m even sorrier for Connor and Charlotte. His mental health seems to be deteriorating rapidly, and she’s going to suffer the brunt of it, as well as having to deal with a new baby.”

  “Yes,” Liz said sadly, as they got into her car and began the drive back to the lodge.

  “I’d been trying to kid myself that he was fine, and he is fine some days, and on those days, he talks the best talk about just how fine he is. So much so he could convince anyone they’d just imagined whatever episode had gone on the previous day was just a figment of their imagination.”

  “Has he always been like this?” Liz asked.

  “No, not at all,” Julita said. “Despite everything, he was always a good, ambitious, hardworking young man. He was very respectful and polite, and seemed happy enough. Well, he is still all the above things, except for happy. And he’s a little less polite, and a little more aggressive these days, but he says that’s how he has to be in order to succeed in the real estate industry, particularly due to his age.”

  “Hmm,” Liz said. “I would imagine a lot of people don’t take him seriously because he is so young.”

  “Yes, but I’m beginning to wonder if it’s worth it. Of course, the success is all well and good, and I’m very proud of him. But he already has enough money to retire and live off of his investments. I’m starting to urge him to go in that direction.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Liz said. “Have you tested the water on that idea?”

  “Only in passing,” Julita said, “and he was very unenthusiastic about it. He didn’t say anything, but I think he has a deep-seated hunger for more and more and more money and success. He had a very traumatic childhood, and although I’m not a psychiatrist, I’m sure he’s channelled all of that into becoming successful, very successful. Maybe that’s the only way he can cope with his past.”

  Liz nodded. “Well, he could do a lot worse than being addicted to work.”

  “That’s what I’ve been thinking, too. Plenty of kids in his situation would be strung out on drugs right now or locked up, and I am proud of him. But this industry and everything that comes along with it is playing with his mind. I’m not sure how long he can go on without losing his mind altogether.”

  “Do you think his life truly could be in danger?” Liz asked.

  “Yes,” Julita said. “You wouldn’t believe the things that go on behind the scenes of these deals for apartment buildings and other property. It often gets quite violent. It’s quite terrifying when you get close to it. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone wanted to kill Connor.”

  “I know nothing about it, and I’m beginning to think that’s a good thing.”

  Julita sighed deeply and looked out the car window. Liz looked over at her and thought she looked thoroughly miserable. “Do you think the police should be involved?” Liz asked. “I don’t mean the police in this town,” she said quickly, thinking of the Red Cedar Police Chief, Seth, and how he’d bungled almost everything he’d touched. “Maybe the police from Connor’s home town?”

  “Connor has told me in very strong terms not to call them,” Julita said. “But the way things are going, I think I’m going to have to. He has an irrational fear of the police. He thinks they’d cart him away to prison, even though he hasn’t done anything illegal.”

  “Perhaps it’s something to do with his upbringing?”

  “I don’t know,” Julita said. “It could be. Or maybe it’s just his anxiety, but in any case, it’s all-pervasive at the moment.”

  Liz wanted to ask who might want to kill Connor, but wondered if it would be in bad taste if she asked Julita. In the end, her curiosity got the better of her. “I suppose Connor doesn’t know who might want to kill him. Otherwise he probably wouldn’t be so suspicious of everyone.”

  “That’s right,” Julita said. “Unfortunately,” She looked at Liz for a moment, as if she was unsure whether she should say anything else, and then she continued, “Well, let me put it this way. Connor’s not exactly going to win angel wings any time soon. He’s got his, well, he’s got his ways, and they don’t make some people very happy.”

  “I see,” Liz said.

  “Like I said, he has a hard business attitude. For Connor, it’s profit before everything else. Joe Treadwell was his former mentor, and I think there’s some bad blood there. We’ve wondered if he’s the one behind the threats and the smear campaign, but there are a lot of others who have lost out because Connor won, so it definitely could be someone else.”

  “I see. It sounds like it’s a very competitive business,” Liz said.

  Julita sighed again. “In any industry where there’s a lot of money floating around and deals being cut, unfortunately, things like that happen.”

  They passed the rest of the drive back to the lodge in a subdued silence. Rain began to patter on the window, which usually made Liz feel cozy and safe, but instead, she began to feel uneasy. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Connor seemed to be in danger.

  And, although Liz didn’t like thinking this, the fact she hadn’t been notified that there was a problem could affect the lodge. Julita had told her Connor was very particular about everything, and Liz had assumed that was the reason why he wanted the whole lodge to himself, including all ten of the guest cottages. It never occurred to her it could be because there were threats on his life, which could expose everyone at the lodge to possible danger.

  When they got back to the Red Cedar Lodge and Spa and parked in the lot in front of it, Liz turned to Julita. “In all honesty, I think we need to call someone, no matter what Connor wants. Maybe a private security service, if the police are off limits to him. Apart from yours and Connor’s safety, I have staff here, and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to one of them because I didn’t take the proper precautions.”

  Julita’s eyes were empty, and her voice was lifeless when she said, “Yeah, I think you’re right.” Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve tried to pretend everything’s okay for so long. I’ve tried to hold it all together and make it work for him.” She burst into tears. “But it’s not working. It’s not working at all. Poor boy. Poor boy.”

  Liz patted her on the shoulder. “You obviously care about him, and he’s very lucky to have you.”

  “But that’s just it,” Julita said, pulling herself back together and rearranging her glamorous red hair. “He’s the least lucky person in the world. Look at the life he’s lived. Doesn’t he deserve to have something good happen for once?”

  “He’s got a child on the way,” Liz said. “Whatever else is going on, that’s a blessing.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Although right now, sometimes it feels like that’s an added stress for him.”

  “It’ll be different when the baby’s here,” Liz said. “I’ve seen things get a whole lot better when babies arrive.”

  “Hmm,” Julita said. “I have, too, but I’ve also seen things get a whole lot worse.”

  “Unfortunately, neither one of us has a crystal ball,” Liz said. “
But I find trying to look on the bright side helps. It gives me strength in case things do go wrong.”

  “Or it could result in massive disappointment,” Julita said, then laughed bitterly. “Listen to me. I sound like a commercial for negativism. Yes, I think we should call in some security. Connor will probably explode when he hears about it, but I believe it’s in his best interest. Maybe I’ve been trying to placate him for too long, instead of doing what’s best for him.”

  Liz paused thoughtfully. “It must be a fine line to walk. Knowing him since when he was a young child, you were naturally an authority figure to him. Then, when you were hired by him, he’s now the authority figure. The boundaries on that one must be hard to work out.”

  Julita nodded. “You’ve put it very eloquently, and you’re absolutely right. Sometimes I feel like I’m his mother. Other times he’s the high-powered career guy, and I’m only the assistant. When you deal with Connor, you’re always on a rollercoaster ride.”

  She sighed again. “Anyway, yes, I’ll call the police in the town where Connor lives, let them know what’s going on with him, and that we’re here. I think they should also check on Charlotte.”

  Julita continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t mention it to you before. I’m afraid I was so wrapped up in trying to make everything right for Connor that I was blind to the effect it would have on you and your staff. That was very thoughtless of me.”

  “I understand,” Liz said. “And we do have insurance, so you don’t need to worry on that score. But unfortunately, insurance can’t bring people back from the dead. In case of intruders, I’m sure the dogs would be of help, particularly Winston.”

  “I’m sure no one would hurt you or any of the staff,” Julita said. “It’s Connor they’re after.”

  Liz nodded. “Still better to be safe than sorry.”

  “I agree. I’ll call the police as well as a security firm right now,” Julita said as the women got out of Liz’s car.

  *****

  It wasn’t long before the security firm arrived. Liz was on the porch with Winston, waiting for them. She’d gotten a cup of coffee from the lodge and told Roger what was going on.

  He’d been working on his laptop, catching up with some law office emails. “Do you want me to talk to them?” he’d asked.

  “No, it’s all right, I’ll handle it,” she’d replied. “You catch up with your work. Since you’ve been out of town, I’m sure you have plenty to do without taking on my additional problems.” She’d kissed him on the cheek, then walked out to the main entrance.

  She sipped her coffee, waiting for Julita, who had told Liz she’d feel better if she had a shower and changed clothes before the security company arrived.

  Julita walked up to the porch just before the security company car arrived, and Liz was glad that the two men who were assigned to the lodge were very professional-looking and taking their job seriously.

  Julita bit her lip and said, “I’m really worried what Connor is going to say when he finds out I hired a security company.”

  One of the security men, who was in his fifties with a fatherly sort of way about him, patted her shoulder and said, “I’m sure you did the right thing,” in a very kind way.

  Julita nodded. “I sure hope so.”

  “It’s better that he be annoyed and alive than dead,” said the other man, who was short with blond hair shaved so close to the scalp that it shone in the sun when they stepped outside. “Don’t worry, ma’am, we’ll put surveillance on the lodge and spa and everyone will be safe.” He turned to Liz. “Are there any back ways people could get onto the property?”

  “No,” Liz said. “Almost the entire property has security fencing, which I suppose someone could climb, but it’s pretty high, so that’s doubtful. The part that’s not fenced backs up to a cliff overlooking the ocean.”

  The fatherly one smiled. “Well, that makes it all the easier for us. Don’t worry. We’ve got this taken care of.”

  Julita smiled for what seemed to Liz the first time since she’d met her.

  “I’ll bet those dogs don’t take kindly to strangers,” the shorter man said, nodding towards Winston and Brandy Boy.

  Liz smiled and ruffled Winston’s head. “This one’s been known to be very protective.” She nodded towards Brandy Boy. “You wouldn’t know it to look at him, but this one’s a big softie. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  The men chuckled. “Well, he looks intimidating, so at least he has that going for him,” the fatherly one said.

  “Indeed,” Julita said. “I’d think twice if I was an intruder and saw him.”

  “In any case, we’ll be patrolling your property constantly,” the shorter man said. He nodded at Julita. “You’ve made arrangements with the head office to pay by the day, right?”

  Julita nodded. “Yes.”

  The men returned to their car, took out bulletproof vests, and put them on. The shorter one said, “Don’t worry about a thing. You’re covered. We’ve got your back.”

  Julita didn’t look so sure. Liz hoped against hope he was right.

  CHAPTER 8

  Everybody thought Opal Bowers was a kind, generous woman, bringing a new approach to the real estate industry which focused on mutual respect, courtesy, and generosity.

  Of course they’d think that. It was the image she carefully curated and portrayed. She had a team of public relations and marketing experts making sure this image was spread far and wide. She gave keynote speeches at conferences all around the world.

  She jetted off to Hong Kong by special invitation. She had her own ‘Ask Opal’ column in a real estate investing magazine. She was heralded as a trailblazer for a new kind of ethics in the industry.

  And yes, it was all false, but it was wonderful for business.

  In truth, under Opal’s gentle smiles, kind voice, and ruffled feminine clothing, was a wolf ready to devour any and all competitors who crossed her path. And whenever she did bare those teeth and draw blood, her public relations team managed to spin it as her being the poor victim who “did what she had to” in order to keep Bowers, Inc, flourishing. And flourish it should, everyone believed, since it was a shining paragon of virtue. A beacon of light in an industry of darkness. A harbinger of hope for the future.

  The only people who knew Opal Bowers was not who she said she was were her long-suffering husband, her two teenage daughters, and her personal assistant, June, who Opal bullied into submission. Her daughters had been so desperate to fly the nest they’d only applied at colleges that were as far away from Opal as they could get.

  There were a couple of others, too. Dangerous others, that only Opal herself knew about. Men hired on retainers, who made sure people “went away” when Opal wanted them to.

  It was such a tragedy when Donald Makinson fell out of a second story window in his new development, and suffered permanent brain damage. Opal had put together a lavish basket full of pampering gifts for Makinson’s distraught wife and had even visited her, expressing her condolences.

  She’d also made a touching speech at Lance Newman’s funeral after he’d had a freak boating accident. “Life can be so cruel,” she’d said to the mourners, knowing just how much money she’d paid out to her “men” to make it happen.

  Those were the only people who knew about the dark underside of Opal Bowers’ flowery image. Everyone else worshipped the ground she walked on, including the ladies who belonged to her “Women in Real Estate” program, which Opal had started and which met every other month for a breakfast conference.

  “It’s my way of giving back to the industry,” she always said, but in truth, the only reason she’d started the group was to bolster her public image. She could care less about anyone else’s career. In Opal’s world, there was only Opal.

  The breakfast conference on this particular morning was packed to the brim with attendees. Opal always felt the more people who were there, all the better. Her ego couldn’t handle talking to a half-empty room. Even a
three-quarters full event felt like an insult to her. The only way she felt good was if too many people showed up at an event, and the hotel staff had to scurry around to get chairs to seat the overflow audience.

  She stood behind the podium at the front of the room, talking and smiling and making the women laugh at her little jokes. She couldn’t wait to sit down, because she needed to check her phone for news of who and what her men had seen. She needed all the information they could give her.

  The urge finally got so strong she made an executive decision. “Georgina,” she said quietly as she gestured towards a woman seated at the table in front of her. Georgina was an ungainly woman with no sense of style, which was fine with Opal, because it made Opal stand out even more than she usually did.

  Opal had to be the most beautiful woman in any room, and she spent a lot of time and a great deal of money on her beauty regime to make sure that she was. She had a personal shopper at Neiman Marcus, a hair stylist who came to her home three days a week to give her a blow dry, and she painstakingly attended to her nails, fake tan, face, and every other inch of her body.

  Georgina was an investment researcher in Opal’s private office, who spent her time looking for deals all over the world that Opal might want to invest in.

  “Georgina,” Opal said as she directed her comments to the audience, “would you please come up here and explain to these ladies what you do and how you do it? Don’t tell them all our secrets, though.” She laughed, a lovely tinkly laugh that made everyone laugh along with her, but it was also quite clear she meant what she said.

  Georgina flushed at the thought of having to speak in front of so many people, and Opal enjoyed watching her apparent discomfort. It made her feel even more competent, since she never got nervous, even when she spoke to very large audiences.