The 6:20 Man
“What?” she gasped.
“Yeah, that’s right, I didn’t tell you that before.”
She looked at him suspiciously.
He said in an exasperated tone, “I didn’t do it, Michelle. I talked to the night security guard at the building, and he told the cops no one came in at the time the video of me was on the security film and my security card showed up on the entry log. So the frame would have been worthless. But Cowl didn’t know that.”
“Okay.”
“But last night I point-blank asked him about trying to frame me. And he denied it.”
“Come on, what else did you expect him to do, confess?”
“I know, I keep going back and forth with that, too. Did he or didn’t he? But the more I think about it, the more I think he was telling the truth. He is one competitive prick and he always wants value for his money. And he was pissed that he hadn’t thought of framing me. He was also ticked off at his highly paid advisers because they didn’t think of it either. He said he saw the security log and video later, and then he was going to use it to put this problem behind him. In fact, based on that evidence, I think he thought I really had killed Sara. He doesn’t want the police snooping around here, and after what I found last night, I can understand why. But then I countered with some dirt I had on him that stopped him from revealing what he thought he had on me.”
“What kind of dirt?”
Devine thought of Stamos, now the dead Jennifer Stamos. “Just something that he would never want to see the light of day. But the point is, if he didn’t try to set me up, who did?”
“I can’t help you there. I have no clue.”
He looked over at her, his own suspicions ratcheting up. “When did you leave the penthouse last night? I saw you by the pool from the train.”
“Around one in the morning. I couldn’t sleep after, well . . . that. And Brad got woken up by a call from someone. And he said he had to go out. But that I could stay the night if I wanted, which I didn’t, not after what happened. We went down together in his private elevator and then he called a car service for me. I decided to go out to his place in the suburbs. I didn’t want to be in the city at all last night.”
“Did he take his Bugatti?”
“No, he called a car service, too.”
“Did he say who called him or where he was going?”
“No, why?”
He eyed her nervously. “Because Jennifer Stamos, a woman he was having a sexual relationship with at the office, was murdered last night at her home between midnight and three.”
Montgomery had taken a sip of her Coke and almost spit it out. “What!”
“And we had a big meeting of everyone at the firm this morning. With two people murdered, folks are getting edgy. Only Cowl wasn’t there. Some other guy filled in for him.”
“You asked me before if I knew Jennifer Stamos.”
“I did, yes. Because I knew she and Cowl were a thing.” He eyed her closely.
She flinched and said, “Wait a minute, you’re not . . . are you suggesting that Brad . . . killed her?”
“I don’t know. It would make sense that she would call him late at night. Even if he didn’t kill her, he might have found the body. The guy this morning didn’t say who had notified the police or who had found her.”
“Do you think Brad might be dead, too?”
“I think we would have heard about that if he was.”
“Unless they haven’t found his body,” countered Montgomery.
“He also might have called the police anonymously and then run for it. If he found her dead, he’d probably think, like I did, that people would believe that he had killed her. And others might know of their relationship. I gave him a lot to ponder last night—and a murder on top of it, with a woman he was screwing around with? The press would have a field day with that. And the cops would be all over him.” He paused and said, “Did you have any idea he was seeing somebody else?”
“With Brad it was pretty much a given. And our relationship wasn’t going to be permanent. And I asked you over to swim in the pool. I was ready to go to bed with you the other night. So I have no problem with him sleeping around when I’m willing to do the same. Fair is fair.”
“Okay.”