Free Transparency: Bio-Tech Cavern Secrets Untold by D.K. Matthews Page B

that.
    Palmier let the earphones fall to the table top. “It’s not my ex-wife.”
    The finality in the executive’s voice warded off any response. To question him, questioned his integrity. Halliday said, “Whose voice is it then?”
    “It’s a clever duplication of Laurel’s voice using state of the art voice recognition and computer dubbing. Look, my ex-wife disappeared inside a cave in New Mexico. We financed a comprehensive search and rescue effort. The searchers found her three companions after several hours. They exhausted the search for her days later. The survivors say that Laurel didn’t observe the rules. I think she wandered off on purpose. Laurel McKittrick committed suicide inside that cave… she nearly took three innocent lives with her.”
    “Getting back to the voicemail,” Halliday said, “someone is going to a lot of trouble to bring your deceased ex-wife back to life.”
    “I don’t have a clue. Laurel had no close friends that I knew of. No close relatives. Her parents passed away in San Luis before our marriage.”
    “What did her parents do?”
    “Her father taught history at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo. Her mother was part Miwok, a local artist.”
    “Miwok Indian?”
    Palmier stared at him as if he’d just asked if white was white. “Yes, Miwok.”
    “What did Laurel do before your marriage?”
    Palmier’s eyes narrowed. He rotated his neck to work out kinks. “She was an assistant manager out at Santa Reina Hot Springs.”
    Halliday waited for him to comment further. Palmier said nothing.
    “Describe her mental state at the time of your divorce.”
    “Laurel’s jealousy surfaced from day one. It escalated thereafter. Detective Halliday, Laurel had bouts of paranoia. I tried to get her help before our divorce.”
    This guy was slick. “How so?”
    “I couldn’t find a qualified doctor in Santa Reina,” he said, his hands emphasizing the point. “I located a psychiatrist in San Francisco, a fellow who had had several years of experience with paranoia and delusional disorders. I arranged for us to have lunch with Doctor Epstein at a downtown restaurant in San Fran. When Laurel found out that he was a head doctor, well, she dumped her lunch in the man’s lap and stormed off.”
    “How did you find this Doctor Epstein?”
    “I don’t know. It might have been my boss, Robert Gartner.” Palmier paused. “Yes, I think Bob recommended him. Why do you ask?”
    “It’s my job to ask questions.” Halliday scribbled “p/u milk & bread” in his small notepad. “Do you mind if I ask your secretary some questions?”
    Palmier tilted his head to the side. “I’ve watched detectives in old black and white crime flicks use those little scratch pads.”
    “It’s just for keywords. You’d be amazed how the words ‘paranoia and delusional’ jog my memory back at the office.”
    “Delusional, yes, that sums up Laurel.”
    “I’ll ask again. Do you mind if I ask your secretary some questions?”
    Palmier tapped on the keyboard. He swiveled the computer screen around. “Ellen Helmstead is my administrative assistant. Ellen’s worked here at Genevive since we opened up three years ago.”
    Palmier brought up the older woman’s photograph on the Genevive website bio page.
    “I said I wanted to talk to her.”
    Palmier’s rapid eye movements underscored the point that he wasn’t under investigation. “Ellen’s in Minneapolis on a two week business trip. I’ll give you her phone number if you think it’s necessary.”
    Halliday nodded. While Palmier scribbled numbers on a business card he said, “It’s often helpful to hear the opinions from witnesses on the periphery of a case to obtain a clearer picture.”
    Either Palmier was a skillful liar or a man who had had the misfortune to hook up with a mentally ill woman. Halliday had to admit that the image of Laurel McKittrick as the innocent woman used and abused by a power hungry executive had lost some of its