office when he can. Some days, he doesn’t even make it here at all. It can be frustrating.”
Bree stopped in front of the desk. “Do you know where he was going this morning?”
The secretary wrote a list of addresses on a sticky note. “We have three crews. These are the jobs they’re scheduled to work on today. We also have additional jobs in various stages of completion. Some are waiting on materials. Others need inspections before the work can proceed. Paul is most likely at the first address, the one on Bleeker Street. They uncovered major structural issues this week.” She handed the note to Bree. “Paul has been in this business most of his life. He can do the job of every man under him, from laying tile to carpentry. If there’s a problem, he’ll get it fixed. But sometimes he ignores the administrative side of the business. He might have forgotten about your meeting. His brain tends to be highly focused.”
“Thank you.” Bree accepted the slip of paper. She gave the secretary her card. “If you think of anything that might help us in our investigation, please call me.”
“I will.” The secretary opened an old-fashioned Rolodex and filed Bree’s card under the letter S, presumably for Sheriff.
The door banged open, and a tall, heavyset man stalked through the door. He turned angry eyes on Bree and Matt. “You have ten minutes.” He continued into his office, leaving the door open.
Some greeting.
Bree lifted a brow at Matt. He shrugged and followed her into the office.
Sifting through a stack of papers on his old metal desk, Paul nodded at the two plastic chairs facing it. “Don’t get too comfortable. I don’t have much time for bullshit this morning.”
Bree sat. “Mr. Beckett, we’re here to ask you some questions about your employee Holly Thorpe. You’re aware that Ms. Thorpe was murdered.”
Paul froze for a split second before setting down the stack of papers. “I heard she committed suicide.”
“You heard wrong.” Matt eased into a chair without taking his eyes off Paul’s face. “Holly was murdered.”
Paul scowled, but he’d reset his poker face. “I don’t see what this has to do with me.”
“Holly worked for you.” Bree pulled out her tiny notepad and a pen. “When was the last time you saw her?”
Paul scanned a paper and set it aside. “Friday. She was working on the computer when I went in to grab something off the printer.”
Bree clicked her pen. “What time was that?”
“Around nine in the morning, I think. I can’t swear to the time. I only stopped in for a few minutes before heading out to check on jobs.” He picked up another paper.
Bree cleared her throat. “This is a serious matter, Mr. Beckett. I’d appreciate your full attention.”
He glowered. “I don’t have to talk to you at all.”
Irritation rose in Matt’s throat like heartburn. Arrogant prick. This was why he preferred his dogs to most humans.
But Bree had better people skills. “Mr. Beckett, we’re talking about the murder of your employee.” Her tone was serious and just mildly chastising.
Paul threw down the papers on the desk, leaned back, and crossed his arms. Oh, yeah. Much better. Matt fought the urge to roll his eyes.
“Are you aware of any problems Holly was having?” Bree asked.
Paul frowned. “Like what kind of problems?”
Bree rolled a hand in the air. “Did she get along with her coworkers? Was she dealing with personal issues?”
“I don’t care about any of that.” He exhaled loudly through his nose, like an irritated bull.
“Holly worked for you for seven years,” Bree pointed out.
“In the office,” he emphasized. “I spend most of my time at jobsites.”
Matt felt his eyebrows crawl up his forehead. “But seven years is a long time.”
“What’s your point?” Paul’s tone sharpened.
“There’s no point, Mr. Beckett.” A muscle in Bree’s jaw tightened. Normally, she had great patience, but Beckett’s attitude was clearly frustrating her. “Was Holly late to work recently? Did you have any problems with her work lately? Was she making unusual mistakes, or did she seem distracted?”
“If she was fucking up on the job, I would have fired her.” Paul shifted forward, dropping his hands to his desktop. “I don’t put up with a lot of bullshit. People do their damned jobs, or they find another place to work.”
“So, you don’t know if Holly was late or was having work issues?”
“Ask my secretary.” Paul waved an angry hand toward his door. “She keeps track of employee records.”