Death of a Bean Counter, page 8
‘That would be wonderful,’ Jayden said. ‘It’s been so awful thinking that an innocent person can be accused like that.’
‘The sheriff just has to eliminate all the suspects, one by one,’ I said. ‘It’s nothing personal.’
‘Yeah,’ Sarah said. ‘You and Jason will probably be next.’
Jayden’s eyes flew open. ‘Us?’
I held up my hand. ‘It’s just routine. They always look at the family, but Jason was in Madison and we know there’s a witness who saw you arrive at the house long after your dad died.’
‘Who?’
‘Your gardener.’
‘Oh, yes. Rafael, of course.’ The girl looked relieved. ‘He even called nine-one-one for me because I was shaking so badly.’
‘See, you don’t have anything to worry about,’ Amy assured her. ‘You have one more witness than I have.’
I didn’t mention the Prius driver had been found, not wanting to give Amy false hope until I knew she was truly off the hook.
‘I just don’t understand why somebody would want to kill my dad,’ Jayden said.
‘Was anything stolen?’ I asked. ‘Pavlik said there was “disarray”, but that could mean anything.’
‘I remember the lamp on the end table in the living room was on the floor,’ Jayden said. ‘I picked it up when I was calling out for my dad. Then when I went into the bedroom, I saw the mirror on the dresser across the room was broken and a drawer left open. That’s when I turned toward the bed and …’ She took a deep, shaky breath. ‘The sheriff did ask if I could tell whether anything was taken, but I told them to talk to Jason when he got home. I didn’t want to go back in.’ She shivered.
‘Your dad might have had an inventory,’ Sarah said. ‘For insurance purposes.’
‘Maybe,’ Jayden said. ‘Jason would probably know that, too.’
I was thinking about the mirror and the lamp. Pavlik had said there was just the single shot. Since there was no exit wound, the bullet that killed Kip hadn’t continued on to break the mirror. And what about the lamp? Toppled in a rush to leave? ‘Did you notice any open doors or windows?’
‘I had to unlock the front door to get in,’ Jayden said, thinking back. ‘I can’t say about the rest of the doors, though, because I didn’t try them. The bedroom windows were closed. I remember the sheer curtains were …’ She trailed off.
‘Were what?’ Amy asked gently.
The girl was looking out Amy’s front window into the gathering dark. ‘White. I just remember how very white they were.’
Most likely in contrast to the red stain on the sheet or pillow under her father’s head. Just because there was no exit wound, didn’t mean there wouldn’t be blood.
‘Is there anybody outside of the family who stands to gain from your father’s death?’
‘Outside the family?’ Jayden repeated, her cheeks flaming a bit. ‘You mean besides Jason and me?’
‘Well, yes.’ I was embarrassed, but it had to be asked. ‘A business partner maybe?’
‘Of course,’ Jayden said.
She said it in a puzzled tone, like it was something we should know. Or at the very least Amy, who she now turned to, should know. ‘Daddy didn’t tell you?’
Amy went to sit back on her bean bag and nearly toppled. ‘Tell me what?’ she asked, righting herself.
‘That he’d changed his will.’ Jayden seemed to be trying to reason it out. ‘I’m surprised he didn’t tell you when he proposed, but I suppose he wanted it to be a surprise.’
I was almost afraid to ask, but I did anyway. ‘Changed his will how?’
‘Adding Amy, of course,’ she said. ‘She’s his main beneficiary.’
EIGHT
‘I swear that Amy was as astonished as we were,’ I said to Pavlik in bed later that night. We were spooning. Frank and Mocha were not with us. ‘She had no idea.’
‘That’s entirely possible.’ He pulled me closer.
Pavlik’s willingness to believe me on face value led me to believe he, once again, knew more than I did. ‘You talked to the woman in the Prius, didn’t you?’ I snuggled my butt closer. ‘Tell me about her.’
‘No.’ He was nuzzling the back of my neck.
‘No, not this second because you want to do something else, or no period.’
‘No period. For now.’
I squiggled away and turned to face him. ‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously. But I still want to do something else.’ He reached out and hooked me around the waist, drawing me toward him.
‘I’m not sure I can do that,’ I said. ‘You’re withholding information.’
‘So you’re going to withhold sex?’
I was thinking about it. ‘Why won’t you tell me? This Prius driver could exonerate Amy. She might even be a suspect herself, right? I mean, what was she doing out there, just sitting in her car.’
‘Right.’ He was nuzzling again.
‘Can you at least tell me her name?’
‘Nope.’
‘Because I would know her?’
Now he pulled back. ‘Don’t you know everybody in town?’
‘Then it’s a local,’ I said, sitting up. ‘Age?’
‘Old enough to drive a car, and I’m not going to play twenty questions.’
I wouldn’t need twenty. Female and maybe young, given the ‘old enough to drive’ comment. ‘Jayden?’
‘You’re saying Fargo didn’t stop to talk to his own daughter? Or Amy didn’t recognize her?’
Maybe not Jayden. Then who? There were only so many females in the script. ‘The housekeeper, what’s-her-name?’
‘You don’t know her name? You disappoint me.’
‘It’s early days,’ I said. ‘It was her?’
‘The housekeeper is seventy-nine years old, widowed, loves mystery novels and has cataracts so she can’t drive at night. She was long gone before they got back from the restaurant Wednesday night and Thursdays are her days off. Happy?’
‘Absolutely not.’
He sighed. ‘I should have told you she was a hot blonde who had a thing for Fargo, just to get you to lay off.’
‘And then you could lay on?’
‘Crass, but kind of cute.’ He moved an errant strand of hair off my forehead and kissed me.
‘Are you going to tell me?’
‘Nope.’
‘Fine, you win.’ I kissed him back and then we both won. Twice.
‘You sure you didn’t recognize her?’ I asked Amy the next day as we were cleaning up from the Saturday morning rush.
‘I told you, I purposely didn’t look at her.’ She sniffed the air. ‘Black Opium – nice.’
I shoved a chair in. ‘Not if you take a bath in it. Anyway, I inferred from what Pavlik said that the Prius driver is somebody we would know, or at least a local. I don’t know why he won’t tell me.’
‘Maybe because one of your friends is already a suspect and he doesn’t want to pile on.’
‘Actually, two, if you include Sarah.’ I swung open the front door to air out the place and turned. ‘Assuming her money really is gone.’
‘You truly believe that Kip stole it? Why? He has money of his own.’
‘You can never have enough.’
The voice had come from behind me and I jumped to see Mary Callahan, Brookhills librarian, CPA and tax-preparer. Maybe because of the triple role, she seemed to know everything that went on in Brookhills.
‘Where in the world did you come from?’ I asked, as she brushed past me and into Uncommon Grounds.
‘The sheriff’s department?’ Mary’s speech pattern turned almost every sentence into a question. I’ve wondered whether that’s how she gets her information? People just answer her? Even when she doesn’t ask a question?
Now, though, she seemed at a loss. ‘You have to help me, Maggy.’
I swiveled to take in the Prius parked on the street. No wonder I hadn’t heard her drive up.
Amy had followed my gaze. ‘You were in the Prius?’
‘Of course,’ Mary said, sitting down at the nearest table. ‘You walked right past me.’
‘But I didn’t really see you,’ Amy said, pulling out the chair I’d just shoved in and sitting across from her. ‘I was preoccupied.’
‘That’s putting it mildly.’ Mary leaned forward, her blonde bob swinging to cover her face. ‘You honestly didn’t see me?’ she repeated, incredulously. ‘That means I didn’t have to go to the police.’
‘You turned yourself in?’ I went to close the door and then, getting a whiff of residual Black Opium, decided to leave it open instead.
Her brown eyes opened wide. ‘It’s not like I’m a suspect. Or I hope I’m not a suspect?’
‘But you were sitting in front of the house,’ Amy said.
Sarah had said Kip made ‘a ton’ of money for Mary. ‘You were a client of Kip’s, weren’t you? What were you doing at his home?’
‘I’d been trying to reach him all day, so when I drove by the house and saw the lights on, I stopped.’
And waited.
Amy frowned. ‘Kip’s house is on a dead-end street in Poplar Gardens. How could you have been driving by?’
Mary rubbed the back of her neck.
‘And at nine thirty at night?’
‘You might as well spill it, Mary,’ I said. ‘You just came here straight from the sheriff’s office. I assume you’re not here because I make good coffee.’
‘Um, no.’ Her chin lifted. ‘I was hoping you could help me? With the sheriff and all.’
‘“And all” being what?’
‘That creepy Deputy Fergussen, for one.’ An unexpected tear popped over her lower eyelid and trailed down her cheek. She brushed at it. ‘I think you’re right. I am a suspect in Kip’s murder.’
‘Not to worry,’ Amy said. ‘You have plenty of company.’
‘I’ve heard,’ Mary said, reaching out to pat her arm. ‘And I’m sorry.’
‘Why do you think you’re a suspect?’ I asked. ‘Other than the fact you staked out his house.’
‘I told you,’ Mary said. ‘I had to. I couldn’t get hold of him on the phone.’
‘Why did you need to talk to him? And why didn’t he want to talk to you?’
‘That’s just it,’ Mary said, leaning forward earnestly. ‘There has to be something going on. I wanted to capture some unrealized stock gains and have been trying to sell off the shares and take a disbursement. Kip keeps putting me off. Then a few days ago, I signed into the account and the balance was down, not up. And down considerably, compared to the market. There had been a sale of shares, but no disbursement or re-investment that I could see.’
‘So where is it?’ I asked.
‘Exactly my question. Or the question I intended to ask Wednesday night, but he walked right past my car.’
‘That means you saw Amy leave.’
‘Yes.’
Amy closed her eyes and took a deep breath and let it out before she opened them. ‘Thank you.’
‘No need to thank me. It’s just the truth.’
‘You never did get a chance to talk to Kip?’ I asked Mary.
‘No. I didn’t want to interrupt the two of you and then on the way back he crossed to the other side. I know he saw me.’
‘You didn’t go up to the house after I left?’ Amy asked.
‘I did, or at least I tried to,’ Mary said, looking sheepish, ‘but then realized I’d left the car running.’
The problem with a car that doesn’t make any noise. That and it being able to sneak up on you.
‘By the time I went back and turned it off and got up the driveway to the house, Kip was already inside.’
‘Did you ring the bell?’ Amy asked.
‘Of course. I saw the curtain twitch, but he didn’t come to the door.’
‘Maybe he looked out to see who it was, hoping you’d changed your mind,’ I said to Amy.
‘What did you change your mind about?’ Mary asked. ‘I couldn’t quite figure out what was happening between you two that night.’
‘He asked me to marry him,’ Amy said.
‘Really! Except, you didn’t look very happy.’
‘She said no.’
‘Which for some reason made me a suspect, too,’ Amy said.
‘There was also the will,’ I reminded my barista. ‘Jayden and Jason would have told the investigators about that.’
‘But aren’t they just implicating themselves by doing that?’ Amy asked. ‘It would look like they killed Kip before he could change his will.’
‘According to Jayden, he’d already changed his will. They’d have been better off killing you than him.’
‘Well, that’s horrifying.’ Amy was chewing on that.
‘Killing Amy?’ Mary was looking back and forth between us.
‘Apparently she’s heir to the victim’s fortune,’ I said.
‘I had no idea Kip had changed his will, though.’ Amy held up her hands. ‘So how can that be a motive?’
‘I have no idea where my money is so how can that be a motive?’ Mary echoed. ‘Except I’d kill the man if he weren’t already dead.’
The librarian/CPA glanced around. ‘Don’t repeat that?’
‘If it’s any comfort,’ I said, ‘Sarah is having trouble accessing her account. It—’
‘How could that be a comfort?’ Mary asked. ‘I mean, other than adding another suspect to the field.’
‘Kip’s accounts have been frozen because of his death. Maybe that’s why Sarah isn’t able to access her account and why you—’
‘Were you listening to me, Maggy? I was able to access my account. There’s just sixty-three thousand dollars less in it. And that happened before Kip died.’
‘Sixty-three thousand?’ Amy repeated. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure. It is – or was – my money.’
‘Why is that significant?’ I asked.
Amy turned toward me, dazed. ‘It’s significant because that’s exactly what Kip told me my ring cost.’
‘If Kip bought Amy a ring with Mary’s money, does that mean it’s Mary and Amy who are engaged?’
‘Very funny,’ I told Sarah. ‘What it means is that maybe Kip was stealing money from his clients to cover his private expenses. Could it be that he’s not as wealthy as he pretends?’
‘Got a nice house. Nice car.’
‘But are they paid for?’ I was remembering something Amy said. ‘When Kip was mad because Amy gave him back the ring, he said he’d be paying for it for years.’
‘A lie to make her feel guilty.’
‘Or he was talking about “paying” in a different way. He’d already stolen the money. What was he supposed to do? Put it back?’
‘He’d have to return the ring first,’ Sarah said.
‘If they even take engagement rings back.’ I was warming to my idea. ‘And he had other expenses. A kid in college, which is never cheap, and one about to go.’
I had a thought. ‘Maybe that’s why he wanted Jayden to take time off before enrolling at UW. He really didn’t have the money.’
‘Why not just steal that money like he did for the ring?’
‘That’s a lot of money over a long term?’
‘You take a little here and a little there from a lot of people,’ Sarah said. ‘Like me.’
‘Anything new on your account?’ I asked. ‘Weren’t you going to stop by Kip’s office?’
‘I did. Fargo’s office is dark and your sheriff’s deputies aren’t telling me anything.’
Whenever they were bad, they were my sheriff’s deputies. ‘Where are we going now?’ I was done with my shift and sitting in the passenger seat of Sarah’s 1975 lemon yellow Firebird.
‘The Fargo house. Jayden talked to Jason about it and he called me. They want me to look at the house. So we’re going to look. See what the place is worth.’ She couldn’t quite hold back a grin.
Not to rain on her parade, but: ‘Do we know the place isn’t still off limits as a crime scene?’
‘Jason said the hall to the master bedroom is taped off, but they’ve been allowed back into the rest of the house.’
‘I assume they know we’re coming?’
Sarah looked over at me. ‘Of course. You don’t think I’d just burst in uninvited, do you?’
‘Yes. You do it to me all the time.’
‘That’s different. You’re my friend. This is business.’
‘You don’t own that business any longer. You sold the realty so you could concentrate on coffee, remember? You can’t sell this house.’
‘I don’t own the company anymore, but I’m still a broker. And I plan to sell this house.’
Must be some house to lure her out of real estate retirement, short-lived though it was.
Which I saw it was as we pulled in.
The front yard was a thick green carpet punctuated by the occasional well-pruned tree. The circle drive framed a pond and the house beyond the pond was a rambling mid-century modern, timber with red brick elements.
‘This can’t be a genuine Frank Lloyd Wright, can it?’ The place – and the thought – literally took my breath away.
The famous Prairie-style architect was born in Wisconsin in 1867 and had maintained a home and school in Spring Green, where his mother’s family had settled about an hour northwest of Madison. Named Taliesin, the property is still the sight of the School of Architecture and Wright-style homes sprinkled the landscape down through Chicago, where Wright also had a home and office.
‘Or an apprentice,’ Sarah said. ‘But if so, it was an awfully good one.’
‘I’ll say. And no wonder they need a gardener.’ I climbed out of the Firebird, taking in the pond which was surrounded by a spectacular show of crimson and yellow mums befitting the fall season. I had no doubt they’d be out of there the moment a leaf drooped, replaced by poinsettias for the next season.
I preferred to let my plants fend for themselves. Made them stronger.
‘Nice, huh?’ Sarah said.
‘Very,’ I admitted, looking around. The only thing I could criticize was the disconnect between the organic feel of the house, itself, and the carefully manicured grounds. ‘I’m not sure Wright would have approved of the lawn. Less mowing, more prairie was his thing.’
