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When I woke the next morning, my thoughts were still on the dream I’d had the night before and how it was unlike many of the others. What stuck in my mind was the comment Noelle had made about how she’d told me everything I needed to know, because I didn’t believe she had.

Nothing she said pointed me to her killer.

Not yet.

I spent the morning with Luka, giving him the much-needed attention he lacked when I’d arrived home so late the night before. And while I was sure he would have preferred to go on a ride-along with me today, it didn’t seem right to leave him in the car while I made the stops I needed to make.

As I slid my shoes on, he let out a soft whine, letting me know he wasn’t thrilled I was leaving.

I bent down, giving him a quick scratch. “I’m sorry, buddy. I’ll come home earlier today, okay? I promise.”

He continued to brood, his eyes locked on me as I headed out the door.

I thought about who to see next, landing on Owen’s uncle, Alexander Beaumont, and I headed to his home. Given he was well known in the area, finding his address had been easy. What wasn’t easy was gaining an audience with him, as his sprawling estate was hidden behind a giant iron gate.

I approached it and looked around, my eyes coming to rest on an intercom system. I pressed the call button and waited.

A few seconds later, a male voice came through the intercom’s speaker. “Can I help you?”

“Is Alexander home? I’d like to speak with him.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Georgiana Germaine.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“I don’t, but I was hoping?—”

“Alexander is a busy man, and he doesn’t take walk-ins off the street.”

He spoke to me like I was classless riffraff.

I let it slide, for now.

“I wasn’t aware I needed an appointment,” I said.

“What is the reason for your visit?”

“I’m a private investigator. I’ve been hired to investigate the death of Noelle Winters. Before she was murdered, she was an instructor at Royal Palms, the tennis club Alexander is an investor in.”

“What does her death and the tennis club have to do with the purpose of your visit?”

If nothing else, at least he was thorough.

“I’ve been told Alexander is the biggest shareholder of the tennis club,” I said. “And I have reason to believe Noelle’s murder might be connected to the club in some way.”

There was a long pause, and I wondered if he’d halted our communication.

“Hello?” I said. “Are you still there?”

“Just one moment, if you don’t mind.”

I did mind, but if waiting a moment allowed me to speak to Alexander, I could spare it.

One minute went by, and then two, and then ...

“Mr. Beaumont doesn’t have time to speak with you today, Miss Germaine,” he said. “Like I said, he’s a busy man.”

“And I’m a busy woman. Is there any chance he’d reconsider? I’ll be brief.”

“Have a nice day, Miss Germaine. Goodbye.”

I considered my next move.

“I’ll ask you to leave now,” he said.

“Did you even tell Alexander who I am and why I’m here?”

“I saw no reason to disturb him.”

“So, no, then. Okay, fine. I’ll wait here until a few minutes in his schedule free up. I imagine he has to leave the house at some point, right? I’ll be right here when he does.”

“You cannot loiter at the front gate.”

“I can, and I will.”

“If you’re not going to respect my decision, I’m sorry to say I’ll have to call the police.”

“Go ahead—they’re friends of mine. I’m sure they’d like to hear what I have to say. Here I was thinking it might be best to share the private information I’ve come across with Alexander before I took it to the police, as it will interest him. But now ...”

He huffed an impatient, “I’ll tell him you’re here, but if he doesn’t wish to see you, I’ll expect you to leave.”

“Fine.”

A couple of minutes later, the gate opened, and I made my way to the front of the house. I was met by a tall, shrewd-looking man with a large, narrow nose and beady eyes. He was standing in front of the towering double doors at the home’s entrance, his arms crossed.

“You must be Intercom Guy,” I said.

“What makes you think I’m not Alexander?”

“A few things.”

He was well dressed, but he didn’t have the right air about him.

He struck me as a person who was second in command, not first.

I didn’t elaborate, instead asking, “What’s your name?”

“Max Sterling.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

I waited for him to return the sentiment.

He did not.

“You let me in, Max,” I said. “Now what?”

“I’ve let Mr. Beaumont know you’re here, and against my better judgment, he’s eager to speak with you. Come with me.”

I followed him inside to a sitting room the size of a modest house. Once there, he pointed at a black velvet chair and said, “Sit here, and Mr. Beaumont will be with you in a moment.”

“When you say in a moment , is it an actual moment or more like the wait I just had outside when you said the same thing?”

Max didn’t find my attempt at humor amusing, and he turned, leaving the room without offering a response. Unable to resist the urge, I cupped a hand to the side of my mouth, saying, “By the way, your tie is crooked.”

If the man didn’t despise me before, he did now.

Max had just turned the corner when another man walked in. He was in his early eighties, I guessed, and bald, though it didn’t take away from his distinguished style and good looks. From his polished shoes to the blue pocket square and black tailored suit, everything about him was impeccable.

He approached and said, “Miss Germaine, is it?”

I nodded, and he stuck out a hand, which I accepted.

“Alexander Beaumont, nice to meet you.” He took a seat across from me. “I hear you’re on the Noelle Winters case. How’s it going, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’ve had a bit of a slow start, but I’m gathering together a shortlist of suspects, and it’s looking a lot more promising.”

“Good to know. What is it you’ve come to see me about?”

“I was told you’re the biggest investor of the tennis club.”

“Yes, tennis was my late wife’s passion.”

“I’m sorry to hear she’s passed on.”

“She’s been gone for over three years now. To me, it still feels like yesterday when I held her hand, said goodbye. You can have all the money in the world, but money means nothing when you can’t save the person you love. I tried, I sure tried. No matter. She’s gone now. Did you know Noelle and my wife were good friends?”

“I did not.”

“They often played tennis together. My wife found Noelle to be a formidable opponent.”

“I hear Noelle was a talented player in her younger years.”

“Talented, and then some. What is your interest in my investment in the club?”

“Your nephew, Owen. He works there, doesn’t he?”

“He does.”

“I hear he was transferred to the accounting department in the last year.”

Alexander leaned over, ringing a miniature bell sitting on a gold plate on the side table. A young woman came in, looking his way as she said, “What can I get for you, Sir?”

“Oolong tea, please, Marianne.” He then turned toward me. “Would you care for anything to drink, Miss Germaine?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Marianne left the room, and he said, “Now, where were we?”

“I’d just asked about Owen being transferred to the accounting department.”

“Oh, yes. I’ll admit I had a hand in him obtaining the position. He liked his previous position a whole lot more, but it was useless, a job anyone could have done. I didn’t assist with his college tuition to have him sucking up to clientele all day.”

“Have you spoken to him since he took over the accounting department?”

“I wouldn’t call it a ‘department,’ given he manages the books himself.”

“Are you saying no one else works with him?”

“Not to my knowledge, no. The club is a decent size but not substantial enough to require a team, not when Owen’s so capable.”

It seemed Alexander was unaware Annie had been hired to assist Owen.

“Has Clark talked to you about how Owen’s doing in his new position?” I asked.

“We’ve spoken by phone a couple of times. Everything seems to be going well. I’ve heard nothing to the contrary. Why do you ask?”

“I’m curious about his bookkeeping. Does anyone ever look over the books to make sure everything is in order?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

I gave the question some thought, trying to think of the right way to say what needed to be said. Whenever possible, I told the truth, but in this instance, I had Annie to consider. I needed to find a way to keep her name out of it, and if lying protected her, then it was a lie I would tell.

“Miss Germaine, can I be straight with you?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“I’m a man who prefers frankness more than anything,” he said. “Whatever it is you’ve come to say, I do wish you’d come right out and say it so we can both get on with our day.”

He may have preferred frankness, but once I gave him the information I had on Owen, I wondered if he’d feel the same way.

I was about to find out.