Read Online Cooking Spirits: An Angie Amalfi Mystery (Angie Amalfi Mysteries) by Joanne Pence - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Joanne Pence
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unique here at work?”
At Greenburg’s blank look, Paavo added, “Can you tell me
anything about them?”
“Tell you?” Greenburg looked confused. “You can check with
Personnel. Their evaluations are on record. Actually, everything’s online. I
can look them up for you.” He immediately began pressing keys, paying no
attention to Paavo who now stood right in front of him.
“No need,” Paavo said. “They weren’t killed because of their
job performance. Were the two of them involved in anything together that you
can think of? Any special programs, new products—anything at
all tying them together?”
“No. I handle all new projects. They were Sales and Records,
not the sort who work on R&D.”
“How did they get along with their supervisors? With other employees?”
Greenburg’s eyes darted from one side to the other, then back to his computer monitor. “I don’t know. I never
heard of any problem with them.”
Paavo stared at Greenburg a moment, then took a photo of Gaia from his folder. “Do you know this woman?”
Greenburg took the photo and stared at it. “I don’t think
so.”
“What about him?” He handed Greenburg a photo of Bedford.
“Sure. He works here. I’ve seen him around a few times. Oh,
wait…that’s Bedford, isn’t it? And the woman…is she the one killed? What was
her name again?” He looked up at Paavo and didn’t even seem embarrassed.
“Thank you, Mr. Greenburg.” Paavo put the photos back in his
folder. “I’ll be in touch.”
As he left the office, he could only think that Otto was
right.
Chapter 9
ANGIE WAS THRILLED when Paavo called
to invite her to a quick dinner. He had managed to take a look at the record of
the Sea Cliff murders and wanted to fill her in before he went back to
Homicide. He knew he faced a long night there.
They met at an Indian restaurant. Over chicken vindalu , shrimp masala, vegetable samosas, and naan , he told her all he had learned. Angie took in every
word.
Eric and Natalie Fleming had been married for only eight
months and lived at 51 Clover Lane when they were found shot to death near the
edge of the cliff overlooking China Beach.
The way the bodies were situated, it appeared Natalie had
been running away from Eric when he shot and killed her. Supposedly, he then
turned the gun on himself with a bullet to the temple.
They had been dead two days before their bodies were
discovered. No one had reported hearing the gunshots because no one in that
neighborhood believed that was what they heard—most assumed they had heard a
car backfiring.
A trace of gunpowder residue had been found on Eric’s
clothes, but it wasn’t enough to decide he had fired the gun, just that the gun
had been near him when fired. They found no gunpowder on his hands, but a light
rain had fallen and could have washed it away.
Everyone who knew them said they were a devoted couple with
no hint of a rocky marriage. Natalie was beautiful, glamorous, and an heiress.
Eric had made money moving from one Silicon Valley start-up to another, just as
many young computer nerds did back in those halcyon days, and he stopped
working altogether after his marriage to enjoy life with his rich wife. Eric
was described as a lover, not a fighter. No one could believe he even owned a
gun, let alone would use it on his wife. Also, no one believed anyone would
want to kill them.
The gun found at the scene, the murder weapon, was
unregistered. The investigating detectives, now both retired, had refused to
state that Eric Fleming had murdered his wife. Instead, they put everything in
the cold case files, meaning the murder remained unresolved to this day.
Angie shook her head. “Two young people, in love, newly married, no money worries, no employment issues, no known
problems…and then they were dead. How horrible! I wonder what really happened
to them.”
“I can’t tell you. The investigators could find no motive.”
“There’s got to be a reason. Even
At Greenburg’s blank look, Paavo added, “Can you tell me
anything about them?”
“Tell you?” Greenburg looked confused. “You can check with
Personnel. Their evaluations are on record. Actually, everything’s online. I
can look them up for you.” He immediately began pressing keys, paying no
attention to Paavo who now stood right in front of him.
“No need,” Paavo said. “They weren’t killed because of their
job performance. Were the two of them involved in anything together that you
can think of? Any special programs, new products—anything at
all tying them together?”
“No. I handle all new projects. They were Sales and Records,
not the sort who work on R&D.”
“How did they get along with their supervisors? With other employees?”
Greenburg’s eyes darted from one side to the other, then back to his computer monitor. “I don’t know. I never
heard of any problem with them.”
Paavo stared at Greenburg a moment, then took a photo of Gaia from his folder. “Do you know this woman?”
Greenburg took the photo and stared at it. “I don’t think
so.”
“What about him?” He handed Greenburg a photo of Bedford.
“Sure. He works here. I’ve seen him around a few times. Oh,
wait…that’s Bedford, isn’t it? And the woman…is she the one killed? What was
her name again?” He looked up at Paavo and didn’t even seem embarrassed.
“Thank you, Mr. Greenburg.” Paavo put the photos back in his
folder. “I’ll be in touch.”
As he left the office, he could only think that Otto was
right.
Chapter 9
ANGIE WAS THRILLED when Paavo called
to invite her to a quick dinner. He had managed to take a look at the record of
the Sea Cliff murders and wanted to fill her in before he went back to
Homicide. He knew he faced a long night there.
They met at an Indian restaurant. Over chicken vindalu , shrimp masala, vegetable samosas, and naan , he told her all he had learned. Angie took in every
word.
Eric and Natalie Fleming had been married for only eight
months and lived at 51 Clover Lane when they were found shot to death near the
edge of the cliff overlooking China Beach.
The way the bodies were situated, it appeared Natalie had
been running away from Eric when he shot and killed her. Supposedly, he then
turned the gun on himself with a bullet to the temple.
They had been dead two days before their bodies were
discovered. No one had reported hearing the gunshots because no one in that
neighborhood believed that was what they heard—most assumed they had heard a
car backfiring.
A trace of gunpowder residue had been found on Eric’s
clothes, but it wasn’t enough to decide he had fired the gun, just that the gun
had been near him when fired. They found no gunpowder on his hands, but a light
rain had fallen and could have washed it away.
Everyone who knew them said they were a devoted couple with
no hint of a rocky marriage. Natalie was beautiful, glamorous, and an heiress.
Eric had made money moving from one Silicon Valley start-up to another, just as
many young computer nerds did back in those halcyon days, and he stopped
working altogether after his marriage to enjoy life with his rich wife. Eric
was described as a lover, not a fighter. No one could believe he even owned a
gun, let alone would use it on his wife. Also, no one believed anyone would
want to kill them.
The gun found at the scene, the murder weapon, was
unregistered. The investigating detectives, now both retired, had refused to
state that Eric Fleming had murdered his wife. Instead, they put everything in
the cold case files, meaning the murder remained unresolved to this day.
Angie shook her head. “Two young people, in love, newly married, no money worries, no employment issues, no known
problems…and then they were dead. How horrible! I wonder what really happened
to them.”
“I can’t tell you. The investigators could find no motive.”
“There’s got to be a reason. Even
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