by R A Wallace
“Tell me you’re kidding,” Greyson said in her ear.
“I’m telling you, it has to be her. It can’t possibly all be a coincidence. My Fiona Hendricks must be your Adelaide Carson.”
“Carson is something of a common name,” Greyson said.
“How many of them have done research on Yellowstone and hail from Colorado?” she asked.
“Yellowstone? That’s the topic Gale Winslet did research on.”
“I have her application with me. You can look at it in the car,” she said.
Callie watched Spencer’s staff huddled close in a group, as though drawing strength from each other as they attempted to endure the loss.
“What did you get from the staff?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you on the way to the television studio,” he said. “Do you need to speak with your mother and Elliot before we leave?”
“No. I’ll stop and see her in a couple of days. She knows I’m working now.” Callie scanned the crowd. “What makes you think anyone besides the weekend crew is going to be at the television studio today? It’s Saturday.”
“Call the station manager and tell her to meet us there. Promise her a scoop on the story,” he said.
“I’ve already promised her that.”
“Tell her you’re ready to start making good on the promise.” Greyson nodded to Elliot and Margaret across the way as he and Callie turned to leave.
They paused in the line near Spencer’s staff and offered their condolences before returning to Callie’s car. On the drive to the television station, Greyson read Fiona’s application and told Callie what he had learned from the staff.
“They don’t believe she’d take drugs?” Callie asked.
“It’s hard to know what anyone would or wouldn’t do. In this case, they all seemed pretty certain, for what it’s worth.” Greyson tucked the print out of Fiona’s application next to his seat. “Geoff suggested we speak with Spencer’s attorney.”
“Already on my to do list,” Callie said as she pulled into the parking lot of the television station.
They entered through the front door. The receptionist was not at her desk.
“Might not staff the desk on Saturdays,” Callie said as she walked past the desk.
They found the station manager in her office. Callie walked in first.
“This had better be good,” Shannon said pointing a red-tipped finger at Callie. “Well, hello.”
Shannon stood and held her hand out to Greyson. He shook hands with her. She didn’t release his, clasping it with her other hand instead.
“Are you here for a job?” Shannon narrowed her eyes at Greyson as she studied the angles in his face. “The camera must love you.” She raised one hand to run her finger across his cheek.
Greyson took advantage of her loosened grip and pulled his hand free.
“I’d like to ask you about Fiona Hendricks,” he said.
“Oh, the voice.” Shannon ignored his comment. “Can you read from a teleprompter?”
Greyson smiled, the dimples bracketing his mouth appearing for an instant.
“Never mind,” Shannon said. “I’ll teach you how.”
“Fiona Hendricks?” he repeated.
“What?” Shannon looked confused.
“Is she here today?” Callie asked.
Shannon turned to her. “Fiona? No, she didn’t show up. One of the weekend anchors complained about it as soon as they saw me here. Speaking of which, this had better be important. I don’t usually come in on Saturdays.” Shannon returned to her seat on the other side of the desk.
“Tell me about her,” Callie said.
Shannon waved dismissively. “She’s been here for quite a while now.”
“Was she always the research assistant?” Greyson asked.
“Yes. Well, no.” Shannon frowned. “When I first came here, she was a reporter. She had Crystal’s job, actually.”
“What made her decide to switch from that?” Callie asked.
Shannon gave a wry smile. “She didn’t. I did. The woman was horrible on screen. The audience hated her.”
“You made the switch?” Greyson said. “How did Fiona take it?”
“Not well, at first.” Shannon gave a half shrug. “In this business, you have to expect a little melodrama. It blew over, after a while. Exactly as I knew it would.”
“Fiona just let it go?” Callie pressed.
“Not exactly, no. The problem was, in her mind she was good at what she did, no matter what that was,” Shannon said.
“In her mind?” Greyson prompted.
“Yes. Everyone else here thought she was terrible. She isn’t really even that good as an assistant. I gave her that job just so she wouldn’t sue the station when I took her off screen.” Shannon looked between them. “Why are you asking all these questions about Fiona?”
“Tell me one more thing,” Greyson said. “How did Fiona get along with Crystal?”
Shannon exhaled on a laugh. It came out like a bark.
“Not well, as you can imagine. Fiona believed, or still believes, that Crystal stabbed her in the back to get her job. She used to follow her around a lot. You know, offering to help her with research, that sort of thing. Crystal always turned her down. Said she preferred to do her own research.”
Callie glanced over at Greyson. “You didn’t think to mention this before?”
“Honestly, Fiona’s such a mousy thing. I never really think of her. She’s been kept on the payroll more as a favor than anything else.” Shannon gave another wry smile. “That and the fact that no one ever really thinks about her.”
Chapter Nineteen
Callie carried the grocery bag into her mother’s house Monday morning. She set it on the kitchen counter and began taking everything out to put it away.
“Darling, there you are.” Margaret came out of her bedroom and began helping Callie in the kitchen. “Thank you for this. I can’t believe I forgot to pick them up the last time I went to the store.”
“It’s not a problem. I needed a few things too. Besides, it isn’t technically possible to have too many tea bags.” She lifted out the bag of sugar. “Or too much sugar.”
“True.” Margaret took out the pot she used to boil water for her tea. “You looked serious at the funeral the other day. Did you manage to find whatever it was you were looking for?”
“Not yet, but we’re making progress.” Callie folded the plastic bag and tucked it into her mother’s cupboard.
“We? That sounds so promising. How is Greyson doing?” Margaret counted out the tea bags she would need.
Callie ignored her mother’s enthusiasm. “It turns out that the cases we were working on separately may be connected.”
“I’m sure between the two of you they don’t stand a chance. Poor Spencer, though. It was so sad that he didn’t have any family at the service,” Margaret said.
“His staff were there. In a lot of ways, it sounded like they had become his family over the years. He treated them as such in his will from what I understand. I’ll learn more later today when I speak with the lawyer.” Callie crossed to the dining room area on the other side of the counter.
“Speaking of cases,” Margaret said. “Vanessa is in trouble.”
“Vanessa Bock?” Through Elliot’s connections, Margaret had friends all over the world. Her closest friends, however, were the ones who also lived at the same retirement community.
“Yes. There was some sort of incident the last time she went to the grocery store.” Margaret finished with the tea and leaned against the counter that separated her from Callie.
“Was she hurt?” Callie asked.
“No, but the other person is claiming that they are. The thing is, Vanessa insists she didn’t really hit them.”
Callie made a face. “That may be hard to prove.”
“If anyone can do it, you can,” Margaret said confidently. “He was riding a bicycle.”
“Was she on the roa
d?” Callie asked.
“No, it was in the parking lot of the grocery store.”
“That might help,” Callie said. “There’s a better chance of video security there. Do you know any of the specifics?”
Margaret pushed a piece of paper across the counter. “I had her write down everything that she knew.”
Callie picked up the paper. “Okay, I’ll see what I can find out.”
“How are things working out with your sister?” Margaret asked.
“Ariana? Good. She’s even been stopping by the office. I think she’s interested in what we do.”
“Have you thought more about her maybe working there part-time?”
Callie had been considering it. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to her about it yet. I’ll let you know how it goes. I need to stop and see Dad soon anyway. I did some background checks for him.”
Callie glanced at the time. “I need to go. Talk to you soon.” She waved the paper with Vanessa’s information before tucking it into her pocket.
***
The office of Hamilton Douglass was in a massive old home one street away from the county courthouse. Callie entered through the rear door and climbed two flights of stairs following the signs to his office. She walked through from the rear of the house to the front, the original wood floor creaking under her weight. There was a receptionist working on a computer in the front office. It was a woman probably around Callie’s age.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m meeting with Mr. Douglass about Spencer Ives.”
“You’re with Indigo Investigations?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Mr. Douglass is with another client at the moment, but he’ll be with you shortly. Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee? Water?”
Callie crossed over to a chair and sat. “No, thank you. This is a beautiful old house.”
“It has character, I’ll say that. You parked in the rear lot?”
“Yes. I couldn’t find anything on the street nearby,” Callie said.
“You never can around here, that’s why we have the lot back there.”
“Is parking an issue in the part of town?” Callie asked.
“There’s a lot of activity here. It’s to be expected. There’s a lot of excitement about a new parking garage project though. I’m sure that will help.”
Callie heard voices a moment before a door opened. An elderly woman stepped out followed by a man Callie recognized. She’d seen him at Spencer’s service on Saturday. He was probably close to her father’s age, somewhere in his late fifties. He was wearing a suit with his jacket on. After he spoke quietly with the older woman a few moments longer, she left and he turned his attention toward Callie.
“Indigo Investigations?” he asked with a smile.
Callie stood and crossed to shake his hand.
“Yes, sir. Callie Indigo.”
“Come in, come in. I understand you were working with Spencer.” Hamilton took a seat at an ornately carved wooden desk.
Callie sat in the antique-looking leather chair across from him.
“Yes, sir. I have a few questions to ask, if you don’t mind?”
He waved away her concern with one hand. “Not a problem. Spencer gave me permission to speak with you before he died.”
“I understand that he left his employees well off,” she said.
“Three of them that worked in his house, yes. He made some minor bequeaths to other employees at his company but the three who lived with him were closer.”
“I’m told those three will never have to work again. It must have been substantial,” Callie said.
“It was,” Hamilton agreed. “The three of them were aware of that for quite some time. Spencer made no secret of it.”
“What happens to the rest of his estate now that Crystal has predeceased him?”
Hamilton steepled his hands together. “That’s a bit trickier. Crystal’s death came so unexpectedly and Spencer was already so ill when it happened.”
“You’re saying he didn’t change his will?”
“He wrote a codicil to cover things the day that he died,” Hamilton said. “There are some charities that he listed. He had hoped to leave it all to Crystal, of course.”
“You’re saying that the charities don’t yet know about their new-found wealth?” Callie asked.
“They do not. I will be contacting them soon, of course. But if you are asking if they may have had reason to kill Crystal to clear the path to the money…” he shook his head. “The charities have no idea.”
“Would you mind if I take a look at it anyway?” Callie asked.
Hamilton’s brows went up at her request but he didn’t deny it. He stood and walked over to his office door. After opening it, Callie could hear his voice and the receptionist’s response. He returned to his desk a moment later.
“Tina will bring it in shortly. Ah, and there she is. That was quick, even for you,” he told her.
“It was on the top of my to-do list to get it typed up. I kept it on my desk afterward knowing that you would need it again soon,” Tina said before leaving the room.
Hamilton glanced at the paperwork first. The pages on the top were typed.
“This is the original will, with Crystal as the beneficiary.”
Callie reached out and took it from him, then settled back in the large chair. She glanced through the introductory passages and the bequeaths. Those were followed by the rather substantial bequeaths to his house staff. The bulk of everything else was then left to Crystal R. Delaney, his grandniece. Callie frowned as she read it.
“Is something wrong?” Hamilton asked.
“No, it’s nothing. I just hate when I forget minor details,” Callie muttered as she continued reading. “Do you mind if I take a picture of this with my phone?”
“The will? I can have Tina make a copy for you. It’s a legal-size page. I don’t think you can get it all in one shot with a camera.”
He was right, of course. She nodded her agreement and Hamilton stepped back out with the pages. When he returned, he didn’t take his seat.
“As you can see, everything is all signed the way it should be. It just hasn’t been processed and duly submitted to the court with the death certificate yet. However, that will need to be completed before the window of time expires.”
Callie knew that was soon. Tina came back with the original in one hand and the copy in another. Hamilton passed the copy to Callie. She stood to take it.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Douglass.”
It didn’t take Callie long to get to her office. She parked her car around the corner and walked in to find Greyson with Sierra and Michael. He looked elated. The three of them were staring at Michael’s computer.
“They got her,” Greyson said. “The police caught up with Fiona Hendricks.”
“Check this out.” Michael pointed at his monitor.
Callie walked around and joined the others. Michael leaned in and clicked to start the video clip of the newscast.
“Good morning, everyone. I’m Lindsay Gavin.”
“And, I’m Jack Nelson.”
“We’re breaking in with this news flash to tell you that the murderer of Crystal Delaney was arrested this morning thanks to Indigo Investigations,” Lindsay said. “That’s right, I said murder.”
“It was first thought that the beloved Crystal Delaney died at her own hand,” Jack said. “But the co-owners of Indigo Investigations, Callie Indigo and Greyson Divine, were able to determine that she was, in fact, murdered by another employee of this station.”
“Fiona Hendricks, also known as Adelaide Carson, is currently in police custody,” Lindsay said. “We’ve learned that she has confessed to the murder. We’ll continue to release information as we receive it.”
“For now, we’ll return you to your regular programming,” Jack said.
“She confessed?” Callie asked.
“Yes. She claims that she lured C
rystal to the area where she died. She drugged her and then pointed the car toward the water and put it in drive,” Greyson said. “She added the suicide note to throw off the police.”
“Has she confessed to Gale Winslet’s murder yet?” Callie asked.
“The police are still questioning her. I suspect we’ll get more information from them soon. They’re pretty happy with us at the moment,” he said as he watched Callie go back to her own desk.
Callie turned on her computer and pulled out the portable drive that Shannon, the station manager from the news channel, had given to her.
“What are you looking at now?” Sierra asked as she returned to her desk.
“It’s probably nothing. I thought I remembered one thing, but then I saw another,” Callie muttered to herself as she connected the portable drive to her computer.
Greyson walked over to her desk. “Say again? You’re muttering.”
Callie pulled out the copy of Spencer’s will and showed it to Greyson.
“Look at this right here,” she said as she pointed.
“Yeah. It says it leaves everything to Crystal. We knew that, right?”
She pulled up the application she was looking for. “Now read this.”
She watched when he got to the important part. He looked back at the will then his eyes flashed to hers.
“What are you saying?”
“This isn’t the right Crystal Delaney,” she said.
“What?” Greyson picked up the will and began reading it again.
Chapter Twenty
Callie pulled up the news station web site and clicked on the video clip that she had watched earlier at her office. Hamilton Douglass watched the clip in silence.
“It’s unfortunate that Spencer didn’t live long enough to see this,” he murmured when it ended.
“That’s only part of what I returned to tell you,” Callie said.
She placed a print out of Crystal P. Delaney’s application to the news station on his desk next to the copy of the will he had given her.
“Remember when I said that I didn’t like forgetting details?” she asked.