The Gossip

by Nancy Bush

  “Detective Haynes?” His voice was perplexed. There was dead quiet on his end of the line. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, he wasn’t going to give it away. “You found a dead body on one of my properties?”

  “It appears to be Granger Nye, per his identification. I understand he’s your foreman.”

  Best inhaled sharply. “Nye?”

  Cooper explained about finding the man’s body and Best queried him about who’d actually found Nye and what the circumstances were. He sounded strained and worried and finally came out with, “I don’t know what I’m going to do without Granger. We’re short-staffed as it is.”

  Cooper let that one pass, then told Best that Nye’s body had likely already been transferred to the morgue in the basement of River Glen General Hospital.

  “I’ve gotta . . . I’ve got . . . I’m not available right now. I need to call, you need to call Granger’s brother, Terence Nye. He’s the next of kin.” He gave Cooper the information. “Thank you,” he said as an afterthought, and hung up.

  Cooper shook his head. Nothing warm and fuzzy about that man. He drove through the opened gates of the Stillwell Estate, maybe the Farwell Estate now, and parked in the expansive area in the front. Jamie’s Camry was already there. A faithful, if nearly failing, decades-old vehicle that she swore she was going to trade in. Harley was driving Jamie and Emma’s mother’s car now, which was maybe the newer of the two vehicles but not by much.

  He placed a call to Terence Nye as he stepped out of the car into a brisk and surprisingly icy wind that was rattling the hedges and sneaking under the shutters covering the leaded glass second-story windows, making them clatter. Nye answered the phone with a brusque, “Yes?”

  Cooper explained who he was and told him about his brother. Unlike Best, he sounded shell-shocked and said he was going straight to the Glen Gen morgue from his Portland home. Cooper then walked up to the front door of the house and rang the bell, which tolled a surprisingly merry tone for such an imposing structure.

  Moments later Jamie threw open the door, still smiling from something that had happened as he could hear Camryn and Nate’s laughter pealing from down the long hallway.

  “Hey there,” she said, and he wordlessly gathered her into his arms and held her close.

  “A bad one?” she whispered, kissing him. “We were just laughing about their new puppy, who’s adorable. And no, I don’t want a dog. We’ve got Duchess to share with Emma sometimes, but that puppy’s just a kick.”

  Cooper didn’t respond. He was just glad to have her in his arms and drink in the smell and feel of her. The best antidote to the finality of death.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Mackenzie’s cell rang as she was helping Stephanie clear the dishes from a dinner of chickpea khichdi, a vegan Indian dish that had been flavored with cumin, turmeric, and ginger, and had been really good. Stephanie had been leaning vegan before her pregnancy and now was all in. Nolan was working late and had missed this particular rendition, and Mackenzie wondered if he was sneaking in a T-bone steak or pulled pork sandwich or Kentucky Fried Chicken on the sly.

  Her hands were wet and she quickly dried them on a paper towel before picking up her phone, which she’d set on the kitchen counter.

  Taft.

  Immediately her pulse raced and she had to school her features. “I’m going to take this in my room,” she said, sweeping up the phone.

  “Who is it?” Stephanie asked.

  “It’s . . . work . . .”

  “You’re working? What are you doing?”

  “Same thing as before,” Mac called over her shoulder.

  “What is that?”

  Mackenzie entered the pink bedroom and closed the door behind her. She made a point of not sharing the details of her work with her stepsister from her days with the police and had generally kept to that. She knew squirreling into the bedroom without saying who was on the phone would raise her stepsister’s antennae, but she didn’t want to talk about Taft. Especially since she didn’t know what this was about.

  Another reason to get that apartment.

  “Laughlin,” she answered, registering the cool tone of her voice.

  Taft didn’t waste time. “The foreman of Best Homes, Granger Nye, was killed in an apparent accident at the work site. He fell from the second story of a house under construction.”

  “What?”

  “Maybe it’s an accident,” he said, his own tone suggesting he didn’t think so.

  Mackenzie’s head whirled. “What? When?”

  “Earlier today. I heard from some contacts. It’ll be on the news. I wanted to reach you before you heard from someone else.”

  “Why? You think this has something to do with . . . Seth Keppler?” Seth was the only intersection of their two investigations.

  “This investigation’s growing. I stopped your surveillance because I didn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.”

  “So you’re making decisions for me. I was a cop, Taft,” she reminded him. “I can take care of myself.”

  “There are people involved . . .”

  He was struggling to say what he felt, which was strange for Taft. She squinted in thought. “Mangella?” He didn’t immediately answer and she quoted, “‘It’s amazing what you can get killed for if you try to carve out your own niche within the family.’”

  He barked out a laugh. “Something like that.”

  “Which family are we talking about? Seth and Patti . . . and this Granger Nye? What did he do that got him killed?”

  “I don’t know if he was killed. I just know this thing has gotten hot. I want you to stay out of it, and—”

  “Hold it right there. I learned today there’s a very good chance Rayne met somebody on the overlook, so I met with Troi Bevins today and asked some questions. I want to talk to Seth, too, and I was going to tell you—”

  “Leave Keppler alone.”

  “—that I was going to interview him. See, I knew that’s what you’d say. You want to tell me why? Give me all the connections? I can make decisions for myself.”

  “I know.”

  He was weakening some. She marveled at how well she’d gotten to know him in such a short period of time.

  “I need some help,” he admitted.

  Mackenzie almost laughed. “That hurt, didn’t it?”

  “Here’s the truth. I don’t want you anywhere near Mitch Mangella or his wife and that’s why I pulled you off Seth, but I need someone, like I said before, because I can’t be in two places at once.”

  “What’s with Mangella? You gotta tell me, Taft. Eyes wide open.”

  “I’d like to talk in person,” he said slowly.

  “I could meet you . . . now?”

  “Come to my place.”

  That was a bad idea. She could feel it in her bones. Something about the intimacy. But she wanted to go. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  She was actually there in twenty minutes. She brushed her teeth and her hair and ran out the door. Stephanie chased after her.

  “Where are you going?” she called as Mackenzie headed toward her SUV. “Was that the guy you’re working for?”

  “Working with,” she threw back over her shoulder. “An ex-cop.”

  “Be careful!” was her worried warning as Mackenzie backed out of the drive.

  Taft opened the door and led her into the kitchen as soon as she arrived. Once again she perched on a barstool as he stood behind the counter. She hadn’t gone to all the trouble over her looks this time. She wasn’t going to let herself fall into that trap again. This was business.

  Taft didn’t waste time. “Before we get started I wanted to tell you that I’ve been following up on Rayne. Haven’t learned much beyond what you already know. I ended up at Ridge Pointe Independent and Assisted Living and asked a few questions. Rayne may have been seeing one of the resident’s grandsons while she was there. Another to add to the boyfriend list. You might want to follow up.”
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br />   “Okay . . .” She was a little bowled over that he’d followed through on his promise. “What about your investigation?”

  “Keppler fell out of routine and I followed him today and lost him.” He was clearly chagrined. “I think he’s making a move and I could use another set of eyes on him with me. Not alone.”

  “Tag-team him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.”

  “Mangella has Seth on his radar. He’s going into a partnership with Andrew Best and he wants Seth out of the picture. I don’t know if he knows of Keppler’s involvement with drugs or . . .”

  “If he’s part of the deal?” Mackenzie suggested.

  “If he is, that’s it.”

  She’d never heard him sound so coldly certain.

  “Then tonight I heard about Nye.”

  “You think Nye is connected to Seth . . . ?”

  “I don’t know the connections. Maybe Nye overheard something he shouldn’t have . . . caught Seth at something. Maybe he was with them.”

  “Them meaning Andrew Best and Mitch Mangella.”

  “Let me tell you about what happened with Seth . . . Want a glass of wine or . . .”

  “No, thanks. Just go ahead.”

  He then launched into how he’d been following Seth down I-5 toward Wilsonville and how he’d chosen to bail rather than have Keppler tag his SUV at the overpass. He reiterated that Seth appeared deeper in the drug trade than he’d originally thought and reminded, “You were the one who saw Seth waiting for Troi Bevins outside of Best Homes, so the stink of drug dealing, drug trafficking, possibly hangs over that business. I don’t know how far up the ladder it goes, but Nye’s death takes everything to a new level.”

  “You don’t know he was murdered.”

  He half smiled. “I don’t. But I’m operating on the assumption he was. I’ve met Granger Nye before. Kind of a formal, stiff guy. Not the kind to catch a beer with after work. He’s fairly new to the job and he just doesn’t seem to fit in with Seth and Troi.”

  “Nye took over the job my stepbrother-in-law had,” Mackenzie reminded.

  “I don’t know how well he was fitting in. Andrew Best liked Seth Keppler, even though he kept hiring and firing him.”

  “Maybe because of the drugs?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Best liked to go hunting with him.”

  Taft nodded. They’d covered this ground before and he wanted her to go over it again. Mackenzie appreciated that Taft had gone out of his way to learn what he could about Rayne, but he clearly wasn’t all that interested in what she was doing. He hadn’t given her a chance to explain about the piece of foil from the Red Bridge wine bottle she’d found at the overlook and she wasn’t sure he would deem it as important as she did anyway. His focus was on Seth Keppler.

  She said, “I told you I met with Troi today. I followed him,” and then went on to explain about Troi’s romantic entanglements with Elise and Rayne and Leah. “Troi’s more . . . I don’t know, doofus-like . . . an innocent rather than a criminal mastermind. I asked him about his meeting with Seth outside Best Homes and he was stunned that I’d been following him. I’d heard that they were rivals, from Elise Sealy, but Troi said Seth just sells him weed. Acted like Seth was small-time, like you said.”

  “I don’t think he’s small-time anymore.”

  She nodded once, silently agreeing.

  “I wouldn’t give Troi Bevins an out-and-out pass,” Taft added. “You don’t know who he’s involved with.”

  She lifted her brows. “Like Mangella. One of the clients you’re a fixer for?”

  He wanted to argue that point, but didn’t. They both knew Mangella was fluid with the law. And who knew how many other unsavory clients Taft had. She’d heard the rumors.

  “So Mangella is in partnership with Best and now Best’s foreman is dead.”

  Taft nodded. “Your stepbrother-in-law was the foreman for Best before Nye.”

  Mackenzie said, “Yes, but Nolan is no part of this.” When Taft didn’t answer right away, she doubled down, “I guarantee it. He left Best Homes and went to work for Laidlaw because Best was difficult to work with.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” she challenged. “You don’t know Nolan. He’s a good guy. A really good guy.”

  “I’m not disagreeing.”

  “I just don’t like the way you said that.”

  “Laughlin, I don’t know your brother-in-law. I didn’t say he was part of it. Maybe he saw something while he was there. You don’t have to defend him.”

  “It sure sounds like it. You should talk to him.”

  “Well, I’d like to talk to him.”

  They looked at each other. Then Mackenzie pulled out her phone and quickly dialed her stepsister. “Is Nolan back?” she asked Stephanie.

  “He’s just walking in now.”

  “Tell him I’m with Jesse Taft, and I want to bring him by. He has some questions about Best Homes for Nolan.”

  She wondered if she should go into Granger Nye’s death or if Stephanie had already heard, but Stephanie changed her mind by asking, “Is this the ex-cop you’re working with?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Sure. Bring him by. I’d like to meet him. I’ll tell Nolan.”

  Mackenzie clicked off. Stephanie had sounded way too eager and Mackenzie wondered if she thought something romantic was afoot between her and Taft. Irked, she said, “Let’s go,” then got up so fast she nearly knocked over the stool. She straightened it and headed for the door with Taft switching off lights and following behind her.

  * * *

  The Redfield home was a modest ranch with warm light emanating through the picture window, illuminating the neat front lawn. Taft parked behind Mac’s SUV and then met her in the driveway, and they walked to the front door together.

  She hesitated on the stoop.

  “You’re rethinking this, aren’t you?” he said.

  “No.”

  “Yes.” He almost smiled. “You’re not sure how to explain me.”

  “I’m working with you. That’s the explanation and it’s the truth.”

  “Why are you so nervous?”

  “Damn it, Taft. Just . . .” She didn’t finish. Just shook her head and threaded her key into the lock.

  Taft didn’t really think Nolan Redfield was part of the stream of drugs that might be flowing through Best Homes via Seth Keppler and likely others, but he wanted to talk to the man.

  And you want to be with Mackenzie.

  He glanced behind himself, but there was no Helene. She was, as ever, just in his head.

  Nolan Redfield was over six feet and had a slightly distracted smile on his face as he was introduced to Taft and shook his hand. The smile dropped off almost immediately as he asked both of them, “You heard about Granger Nye?”

  Mackenzie assured them they had. “That’s kind of why we’re here,” she added as they seated themselves in the living room. Redfield’s wife, Stephanie, joined them by perching on the arm of her husband’s easy chair. Mackenzie sat on the edge of the small sofa that Taft sat down in. He could feel Stephanie’s gaze assessing him closely.

  “What do you want to know?” Redfield asked into the lull after the introductions.

  “Anything you can tell me about Andrew Best and Best Homes operations,” said Taft.

  “Are you trying to investigate Nye’s death on your own?” Redfield slid a glance toward Mackenzie.

  “Taft . . . Jesse . . . has been working on a case for a while.”

  “And you’re on this, too?”

  “Yes,” Taft answered for her.

  “Well, I’m sorry about Nye. I didn’t know him. He took the job I had there.”

  “That’s what Mackenzie said,” Taft agreed. “What did you think of the Best Homes operation? Was it efficient? Did everyone get along?”

  Nolan snorted and Stephanie gave Taft a wry look. She said, “Nolan was miserable there. It was hell.”
r />   “That’s not really true,” he tried to say.

  “Hell,” she repeated. “He wasn’t the only one who was glad when he quit.”

  Nolan explained, “I took the job with Laidlaw Construction. I’m one of several foremen there and it’s better.”

  “Less money in the beginning, but no Andrew Best to deal with,” said Stephanie.

  “I’ve heard Best’s difficult,” encouraged Taft.

  “You heard right.” Stephanie tossed her hands in the air and then dropped them down to her thighs. “That smile in his picture? You never see that. That man is intense. All the time. If Nolan made one mistake . . . It might not even be a mistake, but if Andrew thought he made one, he was furious and he didn’t get over it.”

  “You said he hired and fired Seth Keppler,” Mackenzie reminded Nolan.

  “That’s true,” Nolan said reluctantly. He looked Taft in the eye and asked, “What do you think happened with Nye? They’re saying it’s an accident.”

  “It could be,” said Taft.

  “But you don’t think so.”

  Mackenzie’s gaze drilled into Taft and he knew she was wondering how far he was going to go into his investigation. He decided to push a little further. “Did you ever feel there was something else going on?”

  Nolan frowned and said nothing. His wife twisted around to squint at him. “Honey?” she asked, when the silence pooled.

  Nolan said, “You brought up Keppler. I guess I know why.”

  “Why?” Stephanie asked.

  “Drugs. He was Andrew’s connection . . . at first . . .”

  “At first?” Mackenzie pushed when he trailed off.

  “What happened later?” asked Taft.

  “You never told me there were drugs,” Stephanie said. She put a hand to her stomach and made a face. “I’m going to throw up.” And she got to her feet and hurried down the hall.

  Mackenzie sat up straight. “Should I help her?”

  “Maybe . . .” Nolan said with a frown and Mackenzie followed after her, clearly torn between leaving Taft alone with Nolan and helping her stepsister.