A Killer Clue, page 7
“Well, that touched a nerve,” I said after Eloise left.
Cam stared at the empty doorway. “So there was bad blood between the Bentons and the Andersons. I thought as much, but Eloise’s reaction solidifies it.”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean to be rude,” I said, noticing Cam’s pensive expression. “Her nerves are probably frayed as old electrical wire right now.”
“Of course,” he said, with a glance at his watch. “I suppose it will take a little extra time for Benton to make his way past all those hyenas at the gates, but I think I’ll just wait here, if that’s alright with you.”
“Okay, I don’t mind taking a break,” I said, rising to my feet.
“Stay,” Cam snapped. He then took a deep breath and looked up at me, suitably abashed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bark orders. But I think you should meet David Benton and hear what he has to say. Two impressions will be better than one, don’t you think?”
“Very well.” I rolled my chair back to my desk and sat down. “But I’m going to stay over here, out of sniping range.”
Cam’s eyes narrowed. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“It wasn’t polite, but you know that,” I replied. “I hope.”
“Yes, I’m learning.” Cam leaned back in his chair, staring up at the coffered ceiling. “Thanks for calling me out on such things, Jane. I really do want to do better.”
I cast him a smile. “I know.”
“You and Lauren have to keep pointing out when I slip up,” Cam said. “I realize I don’t always react well to your efforts in the moment …”
I couldn’t prevent a gurgle of laughter.
Cam continued speaking with only a sharp glance my way. “However, I do appreciate them. And you,” he said.
“And Lauren, I hope.” I considered my next words carefully. “She does a lot for you. Far beyond her job description, I’m sure.”
“I realize that,” Cam said stiffly.
“Do you? Perhaps you could show a little more …” I cut my sentence short as the tapping of Lauren’s heels as well as heavier footfalls resonated from the hallway.
A tall, distinguished-looking older man walked into the room while Lauren waited in the hallway. “Thanks so much,” he told her.
“No problem at all,” she replied. “Cam, please introduce yourself and Jane. I want to run to the kitchen. I believe Mateo has whipped up some drinks and snacks for your meeting.”
Cam stood and crossed to the older man. “Cameron Clewe,” he said, extending his hand.
The man, whose tailored gray suit and expertly trimmed silver hair wouldn’t have looked out of place on Wall Street, gave Cam’s hand a vigorous shake. “David Benton. Very glad to meet you, even if I did have to practically mow down a few reporters at the gate to get here.”
“And this is Jane Hunter, a librarian I’ve hired to catalog my book collection,” Cam said, ignoring the comments about the gate while indicating me with a sweep of his hand.
“Ah, my favorite sort of person.” David Benton strode around the desk to offer his hand to me. “I love librarians. Can’t imagine what the world would be like without them.”
“Eternally disorganized,” I said dryly as I held out my own hand.
The lines fanning out from David Benton’s brown eyes crinkled. “Indeed.” He clasped my hand rather than shaking it. “Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Hunter.”
“You can call me Jane,” I said, as I extricated my fingers.
“Then you must call me David.” He turned to Cam. “You too. I don’t need to stand on ceremony with fellow book lovers.”
“Won’t you have a seat?” Cam motioned to the armchairs.
“I understand you have quite a collection here at Aircroft.” As David sat down, his gaze roamed around the library, and I couldn’t help but notice that his eyes sparkled with a glint of avarice as well as appreciation.
“This isn’t everything,” I said. “Cam stores some of his collections elsewhere.”
“Is that so? I’m impressed.” David turned to Cam, who’d settled in the other armchair. “Well, Cam—I hope I can call you that? Since we’re all friends here …”
Cam’s auburn eyebrows shot up.
“… I hope, anyway,” David continued, without seeming to notice Cam’s reaction. “So, what can I do for you, Cam? My auction house is quite adept at finding rare items, books as well as art and antiques. If you have something special in mind, I’d love to help you acquire it.”
“Actually, I’m afraid I’ve brought you here under false pretenses.” Cam’s fingers drummed against the chair arm in sets of three, like a waltz rhythm. “I’m not looking to purchase items; I’m seeking information.”
“Oh?” David settled back in his chair. He appeared perfectly calm, except for a twitch in his impressively sculpted jawline. “What could that be?”
“It has to do with the Anderson family,” I said.
“The Last Chapter Bookshop Andersons?” David arranged his face into a mournful visage. “What a terribly sad story that is. First Abby Anderson kills her husband and then her daughter …”
“Before you go any further, you should know that I’ve offered Eloise Anderson refuge here at Aircroft,” Cam said, his tone as thunderous as his eyes.
David smiled. “Of course I know that. Why else would your front gates be swarming with reporters? And, I confess, I’ve heard all about the recent murder and how much you’re helping poor, dear, Eloise. Very gallant of you, I must say.”
“We’re both trying to help prove her innocence,” I said, drawing David’s amused gaze.
“That’s your little hobby, right?” David looked me over. “Aiding your boss, of course. Oh yes, I did my research on you, Cam,” he added, turning his head to meet Cam’s cool stare. “I always check out potential clients. It’s amazing how many crooks and frauds there are in the world, don’t you agree?”
“Which is precisely what I wanted to ask you about,” Cam said, stilling his fingers when he caught me sending him a message by surreptitiously wiggling my own. “I know there can be some black-market dealings in the world of art and antiques and other collectibles, and rare books are no exception.”
“Sadly, that’s true,” David said. “Although of course Benton House eschews such behavior.”
Cam crossed his arms over his chest. “The thing is, during Abby’s trial, your mother alluded to the Andersons being involved in illegal acquisitions and sales. I can’t speak to the truth of that, but given the possibility, I wondered if you knew whether they’d made any enemies.”
“You mean, of the organized crime variety?” David shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s possible, although how anyone other than Abby could’ve committed that murder is beyond me. But if you want to pursue that white whale, you don’t need to look any farther than their business partner.”
I sat up straighter. “Neil Knight?”
“That’s the guy. Now retired, of course, but he was still involved in the bookstore after Ken’s death. Supposedly helping out Eloise, although I suspect he was also helping himself, if you catch my drift.”
“You think he was crooked? As in brokering black market deals?” I asked.
David’s genial expression never faltered. “I’ve heard rumors to that effect.”
“He is still alive,” Cam said softly, as if talking to himself.
“Yes indeed. He retired to a very exclusive, very pricey, golf community.” David met Cam’s intense gaze with a lift of his eyebrows. “Not something you’d expect for a partner in a somewhat successful, but certainly not extremely lucrative, book business.”
I leaned forward, gripping my knees. “You’re saying he’s the person we should talk to if we want to find out if the Andersons had possibly run afoul of criminal connections?”
“It would be a good start, I think.” David’s gaze swept over me, examining my face and figure in a way I found distinctly uncomfortable. “If you would like to meet him, I believe I can arrange that. My family is hosting a gala on Friday evening. It’s a charity thing, meant to raise money for a local arts school. I could make sure Neil gets a last-minute invite and, knowing him, I’m sure he’ll accept.”
“Then you’d invite Cam as well?” I asked, sharing a look with my boss. I knew it would be difficult for Cam to attend a large gathering outside of Aircroft, but thought he might brave it, if only for Eloise’s sake.
“Well, I wasn’t actually thinking of Cam. I know he doesn’t enjoy such things.” David turned his brilliant smile on me. “It might work better if you come as my date, Jane. No one would question it, and you could mingle freely with my guests. You could even speak with my mother if you felt so inclined. She knew the Andersons fairly well, at least as business rivals. And you could also talk to Neil Knight.”
I opened my mouth and snapped it shut again without saying anything.
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Cam said.
I shot him a warning look.
Cam stared me down. “Of course she’ll accept, right, Jane?”
Swallowing back a swear word, I shifted my gaze to David and forced a smile.
“Delighted,” I said.
Chapter Thirteen
I made my excuses and swiftly exited after that, leaving Cam and David talking about some of the more unique items shelved in the library. As I headed for the kitchen, I ran into Lauren and Mateo, who were carrying trays of snacks and drinks.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Benton is still in the library with Cam. I just needed to take a break,” I told them when they both sent me inquiring looks.
I wandered through the kitchen and stepped outside into the kitchen garden. Pacing the flagstone paved walkways between the raised beds, I allowed the buzz of bees and the warm breeze to calm me. Finally tired of walking, I sat on a wooden bench at the far end of the garden and watched two monarch butterflies flitting from blossom to blossom on the trellised snow pea vines.
Tilting my head, I stared up into the pale blue sky and amused myself by imagining the clouds as a herd of fluffy sheep grazing on air. But I still couldn’t banish the memory of my rudeness to David Benton.
Not a very smart move for a sleuth, no matter how amateur, I chided myself. We do need to talk to Neil Knight and Benton provided the perfect opportunity. I sighed deeply as I lowered my gaze. I knew my reaction was because I’d felt ambushed. That had been a tactic my ex-husband, Gary, had frequently used on me—publicly forcing me to agree to some action or event because there was no graceful way to say no. But Benton isn’t Gary and this isn’t a real date or anything like that. It’s simply a way to speak with some people with knowledge of the Anderson family.
My cell phone vibrated in the pocket of my navy-blue slacks. Sliding it out, I opened a text from Vince.
Last minute, but could you leave work a little early today and meet me here? They might have some info on Lily, he texted, before providing directions to a local history museum.
Even though I hadn’t cleared leaving work early with Cam yet, I immediately texted my agreement with this plan. I felt a few extra hours away from Aircroft might be beneficial to my mental health. Cam would just have to understand.
“Well, speak of the devil,” I said, as footsteps on the flagstones alerted me to Cam’s arrival. “Has David Benton left already?”
“Just now.” Cam’s hands were hanging by his sides, but they were squeezed into fists. “I’m sorry for pushing you into a situation you might not find comfortable, Jane, but it really is a fantastic opportunity to speak to people who might shed light on our current investigation.”
“I know. After walking off my anger and then sitting here surrounded by nature, I realized that.” I patted the seat of the bench. “Come sit down and tell me if you learned anything more from Benton.”
“Not much,” Cam said as he sat beside me. “He’s a pretty clever guy. Doesn’t give much away. I felt he was manipulating me as much as I was trying to play him. Which honestly makes me wonder if he’s telling the truth about Neil Knight.”
“You suspect he wants us to think Knight is crooked to take the focus off of Benton House?”
“That thought did cross my mind.” Cam shot me a sidelong glance. “By the way, I told him that I’d hire a car to take you to the gala and bring you home, so you don’t have to worry about traveling around late at night with a stranger.”
“Thank you. That does relieve my mind,” I said. “How did Benton react to that proposal?”
“He pretended not to care, but I think he was disappointed. Whether that was because he wanted the opportunity to feed you more dubious information or because he fancies you, I don’t know.”
I snorted. “Fancies me? What is this, some Regency romance novel?”
“It seemed to me he was showing a decided interest in you,” Cam said, hunching his shoulders.
“That’s ridiculous. As you’ve said, the man can’t necessarily be trusted. Besides”—I lightly poked Cam’s arm with my elbow—“you aren’t the best judge of such things.”
“True enough,” Cam said morosely.
I decided not to pursue that line of conversation. “Okay, so I’m attending this gala Friday night. The only problem is, I imagine it’s black tie or something similar and I have nothing appropriate to wear.”
Cam’s expression brightened. “That’s simple enough. I’ll just have Lauren provide you with a credit card and point you toward some shops. She knows what’s best in the area.”
“Probably some places I’ve never stepped into before, but as long as it’s your money …”
“It’s really no problem,” Cam said, with a dismissive wave of his hand.
I studied his finely etched profile for a moment. “See, that’s the thing, Cam. You can’t even imagine the obstacles people who don’t have a boatload of money face every day. I think sometimes that makes it hard for ordinary people to relate to you. People like Eloise, for example.”
Cam turned his head and stared at me, his eyes narrowed. “If you’re trying to tell me something, spit it out. You know I don’t like veiled comments.”
“I simply mean that maybe someone like Eloise feels a little intimidated around you. Your lifestyle is so different from hers. And all that money you’ve paid out for her defense team and bail also creates a sort of, well, imbalance between you.”
“You think that’s why she wants to keep to herself?” Cam asked, his brow furrowing.
I laid a hand on his forearm. “I believe that’s part of it. Not to mention she’s experienced a trauma. So don’t come on too strong right now. Give her time.”
Cam looked away, but I could tell he was processing this information. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now—since you do need to buy an outfit for the gala, why don’t you take the afternoon off? I’ll check in with Lauren and have her meet you in the library with the credit card and her store suggestions.” He rose to his feet, brushing a speck of dust from his ivory linen pants.
“Thanks, that will be helpful,” I said, standing to face him. I didn’t bother to mention meeting Vince later in the day. That could remain my business unless I actually discovered any pertinent information on our mystery woman.
Cam looked me in the eyes, his lips curving into a faint smile. “No, thank you. For helping the investigation by attending the gala, and … well, always being honest with me.”
“It’s a bad habit of mine,” I said, with an answering smile. “Just ask my daughter. Which, by the way, you might get to do soon, as she’s coming for a visit.”
“Really? How nice,” Cam said, in a casual tone that let me know the depth of his interest in Eloise.
Otherwise, I thought, he’d been more excited about meeting Bailey, whose photos he’s seen, and expressed appreciation for, at my apartment.
“Alright, I’m going to head back inside,” I said. “I’ll wait for Lauren in the library, and then take off to do some shopping.” I made a face. “Not my favorite thing.”
“But remember, you can spend whatever you want,” Cam said. “Buy something that makes you feel glamorous.”
“I don’t think even an unlimited expense account will achieve that. I’d need a fairy godmother,” I said, earning a rare laugh from Cam.
Chapter Fourteen
Armed with an unlimited credit card and high-end boutique suggestions from Lauren, I did find something appropriate for the gala—a simple sleeveless black dress with a scooped neckline. A sheer black overlay shot through with multicolor metallic threads provided a higher neckline and short sleeves and gave the dress a touch of sparkle. I glanced at the tag only once, overcame the knot forming in my stomach, and bought the dress, along with an appropriate pair of shoes and some sheer black stockings. Fortunately, I already owned a fancy clutch purse, and as it was May, I wouldn’t need a heavy coat. The black cashmere shawl that Bailey had given me as a birthday gift would suffice.
I hope you were serious about spending whatever, I texted Cam.
All part of the cost of the investigation, he responded.
After dropping off my new outfit at my apartment, I headed out to meet Vince at the local history museum. Since Vincent’s home was close to the small downtown shopping district, I decided to walk. Maintaining a fast pace, I reached the museum in about ten minutes. An older brick building squeezed between a deli and pet grooming salon, the museum’s plate glass window was filled with artifacts and a large, framed, antique map.
A string of bells tinkled as I entered.
“There she is.” Vince waved me to the back, where a stocky older woman stood beside a wooden display case. “Jane, this is Anna Martz. Anna, Jane Hunter.”
“Are you the curator?” I asked Anna.
Her small hazel eyes sparkled with good humor. “No, just a volunteer. To be honest, everyone who works here is a volunteer, although sometimes we bring in students from Salem College to help us set up special displays. They have a museum studies program, you know.”
