Understated Beauty

"Wouldn't the police have arrived at the same conclusion?" she asked perceptively.

"I should think so," he replied. "But until I can see the police report and the autopsy results..."

"There was no autopsy, Holt. When they told me it was an accident, I accepted their conclusion at face value. Jake wanted to be cremated and that was done two days later. Was that a mistake?"

"I don't know, Morgan. Well, not on your part anyway. You're not an expert so why would you even question what the police told you? But having seen the location, something doesn't add up."

They got back in her car and headed toward her home. "Are you hungry?" she asked a couple of minutes later changing the subject. "We're almost there and I was planning on making dinner for us. If you can't wait, we can drive into town and get something."

"I can wait," he told her.

"Great! I'll finally have someone else to cook for. I hope you like lasagna."

"It's one of my all-time favorites," he told her as they pulled off onto another road that wasn't paved for about 200 yards.

"Here we are," she said as they arrived at what looked to be part log cabin and part standard construction. There was a carport but no garage and Holt could see a small building of some sort out back.

"Are these two buildings everything?" he asked.

"That's it," she told him.

She took his carry-on bag while he grabbed both suitcases then led him inside.

"You don't lock the door?" he asked.

"Only when I go to sleep," she told him. "We've never had anyone take anything in all the years we lived here." She smiled and said, "This isn't exactly Orlando, Holt."

It was hard for to imagine living anywhere one didn't have to worry about crime and yet, ironically, he was here precisely because he believed a crime of the worst sort may have been committed.

"This room is yours," she said as she opened the door to a very small bedroom with a twin bed, a nightstand, and a small dresser with a mirror over it.

"Sorry, but we only have one bathroom," she said as they put his things down. "Let me show you where it is."

He had to enter the master bedroom to get to it and she saw him looking at her, her bed, and the location of the bathroom. "You can come and go anytime. Just knock on the door and come on in." He was still looking at her so she said, "Seriously. It won't bother me at all. Besides, I'm up early so unless you are too, I'll already be out of here by the time you come in."

"I'll take your word for that," he said with a smile. "I guess I'll just let this stubble keep growing rather than shave each day."

"It suits you," she told him. "You have the perfect face for it." He smiled at her and she smiled back in that same way she'd done before forcing him to look away. "You can go ahead and use it now if you like. I'll wash up in the kitchen sink then start dinner."

When he came out, she was in full swing getting things ready. "What's in the shed out behind the house, Morgan?"

"Oh, that was Jake's little recording studio. It isn't much and the acoustics are pretty lousy, but that's where he wrote, sang, and recorded his music—other than his one and only album. He did that at a professional studio in Portland. I'll show it to you tomorrow if you'd like."

"I would, thank you." She offered him some iced tea which he sipped as she got dinner ready. "So tell me about Jake's last day...if you don't mind, of course. The night before, when he left, what he said, anything at all."

She told him everything she could think of and nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"So Jake didn't drink or do drugs. Did he by any chance gamble or...forgive me for asking...was their anyone else in his life?"

"You mean another woman?" Morgan laughed. "No, no way. We were almost always together. There wouldn't have been time for him to fool around and besides, I'd have known. He was honest to a fault and as to gambling, he occasionally played poker with some of his buddies from high school, but just for chips, not for money. That was it."

"Okay. I'll need a list of the names of his friends, male or female...just in case." She was chopping and dicing when he asked, "One more thing. Did you by any chance have any kind of um...extracurricular interest in anyone?"

Morgan laughed again. "Me? No. Never. I'm your classic one-man kind of gal, Holt. What Jake and I had wasn't perfect, but it was nice, you know? It was...comfortable." She hesitated and seemed uncomfortable before saying, "We never needed anyone else."

"Love, money, drugs, revenge, and power are the main reasons people kill, Morgan. He didn't owe anyone money, you weren't angry with each other, and there was no one else in your lives. I must be overlooking something."

A couple of hours later they were eating dinner and sipping a glass of wine when Holt said, "Morgan? I know you told me there's no one else. But that only means there's no one else you might have been interested in romantically. Is there anyone, anyone at all, who might have been interested in you? Or how about Jake? Was there a woman he ever mentioned who maybe had a thing for him even if he didn't feel anything for her in return?"

"Well, Jake did have his fans, of course. Every singer or entertainer does. As you know he wasn't all that famous or popular outside of people like yourself who loved his style of music. I guess there could have been someone out there who liked him for more than his music. I can't name anyone and Jake never mentioned it. Why?"

"Just checking all the boxes. How about you? Any old boyfriends or love interests?"

Morgan laughed politely. "Hardly. I haven't dated anyone since high school. I met Jake my senior year of high school. He was in college and singing in night clubs in Portland. It got serious pretty fast and there hasn't been anyone else since."

"Okay. So no concerns with any of the old high school boyfriends?"

"No. Not really. I mean, I dated our chief of police when I was a senior and before that there was a guy who still lives in Portland named Brad. He's checked in on me a few times since Jake died. Well, it was mostly right after. He was here all the time making sure I didn't need anything."

"All the time?" Holt asked.

"Yeah, for a couple of months or so. I thought it was really sweet until he just kept showing up. I ended up stopping by to visit Derek, whose now the police chief, just to let him know. After that, it pretty much stopped."

"Pretty much?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, he's been here two or three times since, but not like before. Why, do you think he's behind this or something?"

"No. Not yet anyway, but I have to check. I always run down every lead until I can rule it out," he told her. "Okay. Just let me get those names so I can run them all to ground and cross them off the list. Oh, I'll need to talk to your pastor, priest, or whatever if you have one. And your local doctor, too. Did you and Jake use the same one?"

There was no spiritual adviser, but she did give him the name of the doctor they both saw. Holt wrote down the information then after dinner worked up a tentative plan of attack in terms of who and what he needed to see starting with the chief of police, the coroner's report, their family physician, and this Brad guy.

They talked for the next couple of hours about their early lives, growing up in Orlando and Portland, being a private investigator, and a wide range of other topics.

As Holt got ready to turn in, Morgan said, "It's been so pleasant having you here, Holt. This place gets lonely all alone. I'm really glad you came."

"Same here. You're easy to talk to, Morgan." He smiled and said, "Easy to look at, too." She smiled but didn't speak. "My sister saw your pics on Jake's Facebook page and told me you were pretty. She was right."

"At the risk of sounding like I'm saying this only because you did, you're not too hard to look at, either." She smiled at him and he got up and wished her goodnight.

"Oh, I should probably use the bathroom before I lay down. I really don't want to have to wander in there at 2am or something."

Morgan laughed and told him again, "No problem at all. Unless of course, you want to walk outside and go in the woods. That's always an option up here. Well, at least for you men."

"Sleep well," he told her.

"You, too."

The next morning Morgan was up before him even though Holt was out of bed by 6:15. He saw her sitting in the living room as he walked by to use the bathroom. He just pointed and Morgan smiled knowing where he was going. "Can I get you a cup of coffee?" she asked.

"You'd be my hero if you did," he told her. "Just black, please."

"I'd rather be your hero than your hoagie," she said as she got up.

Holt stopped and looked back at her. "Oh, wow. That was bad." Even so he still laughed.

"Sorry, it's the best I can this early in the morning. I get a lot funnier as the day goes by," she said very seriously causing him to chuckle politely one more time.

When he came back his coffee was on...what else...the coffee table. He thanked her and took a first sip. "Oh, that's pure gold."

"So where do we start today?" she asked.

"Are you planning on going with me?"

"Unless you want to go pick up a rental car," she said in a nice way.

"Oh, right. You are kind of stranded out here, huh? Um...I think I'd like to see the police report and especially the photos. Please tell me you're not going to come inside with me."

"I know the chief of police, remember? You'll be surprised at the different reception you'll get as a total stranger compared to someone coming in with a local resident, especially one the chief of police used to date."

"Good point," he said. "Just don't feel that you have to look at the photos."

"No, I do need to. I'm even more curious—and suspicious now than I was before. But then...if I'm suspicious, what is it I'm suspicious of?"

"A coverup," Holt told her.

"But what would anyone want to cover up? What is there to be covered?"

"That's why I'm here," he said. "People cover up crimes and they keep things hidden to protect people. While I strongly suspect foul play, we can't rule anything in or out definitively yet."

"I just wanted to say it's pretty obvious you know your business, by the way."

"Thank you, but it's mostly hard work and a little intuition. Oh, and throw in a healthy dose of skepticism. Never, ever believe anything you're told as truth. Listen to it, keep an open mind, then verify it."

"So you're good at your job. You said you're a college graduate which tells me you're also smart." She smiled then said, "Well, let me rephrase that. You're at least well-educated." Holt laughed at the simple-but-important distinction and got another smile in return. "And as I said last night, you're a really nice-looking guy. So I was wondering, is there someone in your life, Holt?"

"Oh, no. I was in a pretty serious relationship for a couple of years, but that ended well over a year ago."

"About the same time Jake died."

"Yeah. I guess that'd be about right. I know it's only been what...fourteen months? I don't suppose you're seeing anyone." He looked at her then said, "Sorry. I had no business even asking that. It's way too soon. My apologies."

"No, don't apologize. I've been out once. I probably should have told you this last night. I did give in and agree to have coffee with Brad about a month ago. He's divorced and although I can't see ever myself with him again, he was once very special to me. He's a really nice guy, Holt. I know you have to verify everything, but I trust Brad."

"Your impressions matter, Morgan. Yes, I do have to check him out, but it's good to know you don't have a negative impression. So he's not still...what's the best word here? Asking you out?"

"He's asked me a couple of times since, but he's not hounding me or stalking me if that's your concern. It was just nice to have a friend to talk to. You know, like having you here. It's comforting knowing I'm not alone and having a man around makes me feel safe. That the man is also kind of cute doesn't hurt." There was that playful smile again that Holt had already learned to love.

"So since we're talking about old relationships, you said yours with Jake wasn't perfect but that it was fine. Was it? Fine, that is. Were there any problems at all you think might be relative?"

She broke eye contact and didn't reply at first. "Oh, wow. This is very hard to talk about even with Jake being gone." She glanced back up at him then said, "Jake was seeing Dr. Collins in Windham for...impotence."

"Long term?" Holt asked.

"It started maybe eight months or so before he died. We'd been having some difficulties. Normal stuff. Nothing big. Or at least it didn't seem like it. I was really surprised when he went to stay at his mom and dad's in Portland for a week or so, and after he came back, it happened for the first time. Looking back, I realized I was the one being kind of bitchy. We weren't having sex very often before and it was getting very frustrating. The time away made me realize how wrong I was—about complaining so much, that is. I nearly jumped him when he came home so when things didn't...work...I was super disappointed but not worried. When things didn't work again, I got concerned. After the third time, I begged him go see a doctor. Jake saw Dr. Collins who prescribed Viagra and then later on some other medication, but even with that, it just didn't happen."

"So...this is really difficult to ask so please forgive me...but are you saying you didn't have sex for the last six-to-eight months of his life?"

She looked right at him and said, "Unfortunately, yes. I don't know if there's any connection, but that's when Jake's morning walks out to where we were yesterday really picked up. Before that he'd go several times a year. After that, he went out there several times a week. He said it was the only place he felt at peace. Does that help or even make sense?"

"It doesn't make sense—yet, but it may be helpful. Doctor-patient confidentiality can be broken after death so if you know this Dr. Collins, he might just be willing to share information with you he wouldn't share with me. It's worth a try just in case there's some kind of connection."

"Sure. I know him and I'll be glad to ask."

"Okay, well, I need to take a shower and get ready to go."

"I should probably go first since I need to also do hair and makeup which I can do while you're in the shower. Otherwise you'll just be waiting that much longer on me."

"Ah! Say no more. I have no doubt it'll be worth the wait either, way so...please, ladies first," he said smiling at her and appreciating her understated beauty more each passing hour.

Holt was writing up a short summary of everything he'd learned so far as well as mapping out a strategy on how to proceed when Morgan was finally ready.

"Okay, I hope it was worth the wait," she said after coming out of the bedroom.

Holt looked up then did a double take. "Wow. I'll say. You look incredible, Morgan." It was as though she and Amanda had secretly talked. Morgan was still wearing jeans but instead of a plain blouse that looked like a man's shirt, she wearing a very soft, very feminine, very...pretty sweater. She'd also put on a bit more makeup and a pair of earrings. The difference was truly amazing.

"Well, we're going into the 'big city' so I thought I'd try and look a little nicer. Do you really like it?"

Holt found it odd she'd care whether or not he liked it, but he definitely did. "You look great, Morgan. Distracting even," he said. It was meant to sound like a joke, but it was true. Even her hair was different. It was softer, silkier, and very smooth. He caught a whiff of a very pleasant perfume, as well, and as he went to stand up, he realized he was growing in a place he hoped she wouldn't notice.

He showered and dried off and was ready to go in fifteen minutes. As they walked out, he could now tell her waist was tight and her breasts soft and full. The blouse had been baggy and left a lot to the imagination while the sweater answered a lot questions he shouldn't even be asking.

"That's the police station right over there," she said pointing a large brick building. "We can park here and walk across the street." Morgan found a spot, fed the meter some change then led Holt to the crosswalk and into the building.

"Hey, Morgan! Long time no see. How you been?" the female officer up front asked.

"Good, Linda. How about you? How's Frank's knee?"

"Not so great," she told her. "Looks like he's going to became the six-million dollar man only without the good looks."

Morgan laughed then asked if Chief Thomas was in. "He is. Let me see if he's busy." She picked up the phone and moments later a man Morgan's age came walking down the hall in a black uniform with a bright, silver badge.

"Morgan! So good to see you!" he said as they hugged. He looked over at Holt and Morgan introduced them. His smile faded when he heard 'private investigator.' "We closed Jake's case, Morgan. Are you unhappy with our work?"

"Oh, no. Not at all, Derek. We...I just have some questions. That's all. We'd like to see the report if that's okay."

"Normally I'd say 'no' but because it's you..." He led them to the evidence window and asked for the Price case and moments later had a large banker's box in his hand.

"I want to warn you there are photos in here you may not want to look at. Photos of Jake as we found him."

"I appreciate it, Derek. I didn't want to see them before, but I think I can handle it now."

"Okay, just leave everything on the table when you're done and I'll have someone put it away." He looked at Holt but spoke to Morgan. "Needless to say, you can't take anything with you. Oh, one last thing. Sometimes it's best not to look to deeply into things you can't change."

"We won't take anything. Thank you, Derek."

Holt noticed Morgan paid no attention to the chief's final comment, but he did. He made another mental note then opened the photos first and looked through them.

"Um...these are very graphic, Morgan. I really wish you wouldn't look at them." He saw her hesitate then said, "I can cover up his face if you really feel you have to look. That way you can see where the body was laying without having to see the results of the fall."

"Okay. That sounds fine." Holt used his hand to hide the fact that Jake had fallen directly on his head, something he'd never seen or heard of in a homicide if the victim was conscious. People instinctively flipped back over to avoid hitting headfirst or at least tried to break the fall with their hands if time didn't permit. Jakes arms didn't appear broken, but he'd have to read the coroner's report to be sure.

"That's enough," Morgan said after looking at two of them. "What do these tell you?"

"Nothing for sure but they indicate it was likely he was either unconscious at the time of the fall or..." He looked at her not wanting to have to say it.

"Or what?"

"Or...he wanted to die."

"Suicide? Jake? No. No, that's...that's not possible." She sat down then said, "There was no note, no nothing."

"People don't always leave notes, Morgan. Besides, I'm not saying it was suicide. But what you didn't look at makes me believe that's at least a strong possibility."

Holt carefully read the police report as well as the coroner's findings. No toxicology panel was done, but there was nothing to suggest Jake had been unconscious. That didn't rule that out, but it did increase the possibility this wasn't a homicide or an accident. He also noticed there was a life insurance policy Jake had taken out just three months prior to his death. It was for $50,000 and had the standard two-year exclusion policy for suicide.

"Morgan? Did you receive Jake's life insurance policy money?"