by Eve Gaddy
Given Joleen’s reaction, he’d suspected that, but to have it confirmed sent adrenaline rushing through his bloodstream. He started to ask for confirmation, but once she’d begun, Joleen didn’t stop.
“I never liked him. No, never. Why I swear, he always looked right through me, even though I’ve been banking there all my life. Thinks he’s too good for the likes of me.” She snorted, obviously miffed at the shoddy treatment Jennings had given her.
Attempting to get back to the point, Will asked, “Do you know this for a fact? That Raymond Jennings is Emmy’s father?” If she did, why hadn’t she ever told Emmy? And why hadn’t she told Emmy of her mother?
“Not for a fact. But who else could it be when his daughter, his legitimate daughter, is sporting that gold, pearl and emerald bracelet? The bracelet that goes with the brooch.”
Will resisted the urge to rub his temples or ask Joleen just what the hell bracelets and brooches had to do with anything. Mustering patience, he said, “Joleen, I’m still mystified. Can you start from the beginning and tell me the story?”
“All right. But let me get something first.” She disappeared into another room, returning a few moments later clutching something in her hand. “Here. Take it. I could never do anything with it, anyway, what with Frannie taking on so about losing it.”
She dropped it in his palm. Will stared at a piece of jewelry. A brooch in the shape of a gold tree, a big pearl at its base, emeralds dotting the branches. Amanda’s bracelet had pearls and emeralds, he remembered. And according to her, it had been part of a set. No wonder Joleen had been struck speechless at the sight of it.
“That’s a Caddo pearl there,” Joleen said, pointing to the lustrous white gem. “Just like the ones in the bracelet that Amanda Jennings was wearing today. Ginny Owens pinned this brooch in the basket the day she died giving birth to Emmy.”
Defiantly she raised her chin and repeated her earlier words. “Ginny owed me something for taking care of her funeral. And for taking care of her baby like she begged me to. That’s why I took the baby to Canton. To make sure Frannie got her. Emmy never suffered not having her mother, not while Frannie lived. I did right by her, and by Frannie, too, giving her a child she could love like one of her own.”
“How did Frannie know about the brooch, if you’ve had it all this time?” He remembered the stories, of course, that Frannie had told Emmy. About a beautiful pearl and emerald brooch that had belonged to her mother. Emmy’s legacy, Frannie had called it. Except it had disappeared a few weeks after Emmy had been found at the Canton First Monday trade fair and had come to live with Frannie.
“You didn’t know it was there, did you? When you put Emmy in that basket, you didn’t realize the brooch was in there, too.”
Looking ashamed, Joleen nodded. “But when I saw it, when Frannie showed it to me, I . . . I couldn’t help it. It was so beautiful, and it didn’t seem right I should have nothing.” Indignation strengthened her voice. “Not after all I did for the pair of them. What did a little baby need with something like that anyway?”
Will didn’t respond to her attempts at self-justification, but she continued regardless.
“Even then, I wouldn’t have done it if Frannie hadn’t kept talking of tracing the parents through the brooch. Ginny was scared of the father, I tell you, and I was afraid what would happen if Frannie ever found him. So I took it. To protect them, that’s all I wanted,” she said virtuously.
Nice rationalization, Will thought. “So when you saw Amanda’s bracelet, and especially when she told you it was a family heirloom, you knew Ray Jennings was the father. The man Ginny Owens had been afraid of.”
“And I was right to be afraid. Look what happened to Frannie.”
“But Frannie didn’t know, did she? About Ray?”
“No, at least . . . The day before she disappeared, Frannie was upset about something. She never would say what, though. Even to me, her best friend.” She leaned forward and grasped Will’s hand. “But she cleaned house for the Jennings. If she’d seen that set, she would have known Ray Jennings was Emmy’s father.”
Will frowned. “But if that’s true, why did she never see the set before then?”
Joleen tossed her head in disgust. “People like that have so much jewelry, they can’t wear all of it. Maybe Mrs. Jennings just never kept it out for Frannie to see. Or maybe she kept it in the bank and only took it out for special occasions. Besides, Frannie hadn’t worked for the Jennings but for three or four years. Could be Mrs. Jennings never wore it much.”
True, Will thought. And it wasn’t the sort of jewelry a woman would wear every day. Unless you were Amanda, he amended, and flaunted your jewelry. But Catherine Jennings wasn’t like her daughter.
“Frannie would have confronted him,” Will said. Not a doubt of that. Frannie had always had a strong sense of right and wrong. She’d have demanded Ray own up to his obligations, and she wouldn’t have cared that the banker would lose Catherine Jennings and her family fortune if the truth came out.
So Raymond Jennings had reason to protect his marriage, to keep the truth about his illegitimate daughter from coming out. A hell of a motive for murder.
WILL TRIED NOT TO THINK about how this turn of events would affect Emmy. She’d told him she wanted to know her birth parents, had even searched for them, before quitting because someone—Ray Jennings, he’d bet—had threatened Riley and Alanna. Will didn’t think the knowledge that her father was a murderer would comfort her much. But he couldn’t focus on Emmy now. He’d consider how to tell her later. Right now he had to concentrate on the case. On the law and how to proceed to catch a killer.
Once again, he had circumstantial evidence. Strong evidence, but was it enough to convince the D.A. to proceed? And if the D.A. did proceed, what then? With a good lawyer, Jennings might get off. Will meant to see he paid for his crime. The only way to insure that he did would be to obtain a court admissible confession from the suspect himself.
It didn’t take him long to realize Catherine Jennings was the weak link. Ray would deny everything. But if Will surprised Catherine with the brooch, that could provoke a spontaneous response. He’d bet Catherine Jennings wouldn’t be any too pleased to discover the proof of Ray’s infidelity, in the form of one Emerald Monday Gray Wolf.
He needed to show Catherine the brooch with Ray present. But they couldn’t be forewarned, because his plan would only work if a surprise. Fielder, that’s who he needed to bring in on this. For one thing, it was his case, too. For another, Will looked forward to proving to the old man that he’d been wrong about Jed’s guilt all along.
As always, he found Fielder in his office. And just as Will had expected, the sheriff was skeptical of his theory. Until Will filled him in on the details of his morning. The older man’s frown grew heavier as Will showed him the receipts for the glasses cases, then told him the events at the bank, followed by Joleen’s confession.
“Let me see this brooch,” Fielder said, rising to face Will. “I don’t see how you or Joleen Berber can be so sure it’s from the set of jewelry that belongs to Catherine Jennings. And as for Frannie Granger discovering it in Emmy Monday’s basket and then the thing being stolen—” he snorted in disbelief “—it all sounds pretty danged farfetched to me.”
“Farfetched, maybe. But logical, when you think about it,” Will said, handing the piece over to the sheriff.
Fielder studied it a long moment. “She wore this set to the last Anglers’ Ball, just a few weeks ago,” he said slowly, naming an annual charity event all of Uncertain and most of East Texas attended. “The department is in charge of security for it, and I was standing by the front door when she came in.” His gaze met Will’s, the surprise in it evident. “Joleen Berber is right. This brooch looks just like the necklace and earrings Catherine Jennings wore that night. Even at a ball like that, those pieces stood
out. Never seen the like of them.”
“So you agree it would be worthwhile to see Mrs. Jennings’s reaction to this brooch?”
“I’m not saying I buy the whole thing,” Fielder warned, “but yeah, it’s worth a shot.”
“Great. I want to show this to Catherine. I’ll call and ask to see her at home, as soon as we finish up here. I want Jennings to show up while I’m doing it. Can you manage to get him there?”
Fielder nodded. “I reckon.”
“Obviously, you can’t tell him anything about the brooch. If you just let him know I’m at the house questioning his wife, that will probably be enough to bring him home fast.”
“I’m coming with him,” Fielder said. “Because if this cockamamie story is true, then there’s no telling what he’ll do when his wife finds out.”
Will grimaced. “He’s no threat to her. He needs the family money too much.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about what he’ll do to his wife. But you’re another matter. You need backup.”
“I can handle Ray Jennings,” Will said. And it would be a pleasure. “But if you feel the need to be there, that’s your privilege. It’s your case, too.”
“And don’t you forget it.” He stared at Will a moment, flinty eyes unreadable. “About Louis, if it turns out I was wrong, I’m sorry for it. I know it caused you a lot of grief. Him, too.”
Surprised at the gruff apology, Will nodded. “You had cause to suspect him. I never denied that. I just never agreed that he was your only suspect.” It shamed him that he’d suspected Jed at all, but that wasn’t something he’d admit to Fielder. “But Jed’s the one you’ll need to apologize to, not me.”
And Will wanted to be there to see it.
USHERED INTO A coldly formal sitting room at the Jennings mansion, Will crossed the Aubusson carpet covering the hardwood floor to the woman seated like a queen awaiting peons. Decorated in shades of gold and white, antique silk Louis XIV chairs flanked a white damask sofa. The sitting room was about as welcoming as the ice queen expression on Catherine Jennings’s expensively maintained face.
Catherine inclined her head, her smooth blond hair glinting in the light. No brassy dyes for Amanda’s mother, Will thought, wondering how much money she spent to maintain her classic, youthful image.
“What is it you want, Ranger McClain?”
He hoped his timing was right and that Fielder would bring Ray Jennings home from the bank shortly. “I believe I have something that belongs to you, Mrs. Jennings.”
“My missing flat silver?” Her eyebrow arched. “I reported that loss to Logan Fielder six months ago. Four spoons and three forks. Sterling, of course. Francis I. Don’t tell me he’s finally found it. Was it that maid I told him to question?”
“No, ma’am. Not silver.” Hearing a racket outside the room, he smiled to himself. He hadn’t wanted Catherine to have to wait too long before her husband’s arrival. He and the sheriff had coordinated their movements as closely as possible, but some of it had to be left to chance.
Will reached into his pocket and pulled out the pearl and emerald brooch, silently handing it to her. “Is this yours, Mrs. Jennings?”
Catherine stared blankly down at the piece of jewelry. “What—where did you get this? It’s part of a set made for my grandmother. I don’t understand. How can that be?”
“You recognize this piece of jewelry, then?”
“Of course I do.” She looked up at Will just as Ray Jennings burst through the open doorway with Fielder on his heels. “It’s the missing piece to my set. My grandmother’s set. Where on earth did you find it?”
“What the hell do you mean, invading our privacy? You dare come here and question my wife?” Ray thundered from the doorway. “Catherine, my dear, you don’t have to answer any questions.”
Will smiled. “I’m not here to ask questions, Mr. Jennings. I’m returning something that belongs to your wife.”
Catherine stared at the brooch in her hands as if she couldn’t believe her eyes, then slowly raised her gaze to meet Will’s. “I haven’t seen this piece in more than thirty years.”
Ray paled, stepping forward to go to his wife. She held out her hand, the brooch lying in her open palm. “It appears Ranger McClain found something that belongs to me.”
“I don’t know what kind of trick you’re pulling, McClain, but you can get the hell out of my house!”
Catherine ignored his outburst. “The last time I saw this brooch, Raymond, was just before you took it to have it cleaned as a surprise for me. You told me it was stolen from the jeweler’s.”
“Catherine, I can explain.”
She turned to Will. “You didn’t answer me, Ranger McClain. Where did you get this?”
“The brooch was pinned to the lining of the basket Emerald Monday was found in, thirty-two years ago. Her mother, Ginny Owens, gave it to her as the only token she had from the child’s father.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ray shouted. “The damn jeweler was a thief! He must have sold my wife’s brooch to this woman.”
Catherine spared him one annihilating glance. “Go on, Ranger McClain. Why is this only now coming to light? Has this Emerald Monday had my brooch in her possession all this time?”
“No. It was stolen when she was only a few weeks old. From Frances Granger’s house,” Will said, looking at Ray. “But she told Emmy about the brooch, and that it was a legacy from her mother.”
“This is ludicrous,” Ray blustered. “I’ll have your goddamn badge for this, McClain!” Fielder took a step closer to him. “I didn’t even know this woman. Ginny, whatever he said her name was. He’s lying, Catherine.”
“Someone is lying, Raymond. I think we all know who that is,” Catherine said, her voice colder than a glacier. She walked over to him. Fielder stood aside, shooting a warning glance at Will.
Catherine stared at her husband for a long moment. Suddenly she slapped his face with a sharp crack. His head jerked back, but otherwise he didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
But Catherine did. “How dare you? How dare you give my jewelry, my family heirloom, to that little floozy? Did you think I would have forgotten her name? You swore to me the affair was over.”
“It was over.” His head came up and he glared at his wife. “I had to do something, had to give her something to pacify her. She was supposed to have an abortion. It was never supposed to come to this.”
“So you gave her my jewelry, to pay her off for having your illegitimate child.”
“Damn it, there was never supposed to be a child. I told the little bitch to have an abortion. How was I to know she hadn’t done it?”
“But you found out, didn’t you, Ray?” Motioning to Fielder to watch Catherine, Will crossed to the banker’s side. “Nineteen years ago you discovered Ginny Owens had never had the abortion you paid her to have. When Frannie told you that you were Emerald Monday’s father.”
“Snoopy, interfering old bitch,” Ray said, his face contorted with rage. “She wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t agree not to expose it all. I offered her money and she laughed in my face. Spouted insanities about integrity and doing what was right.”
“So she had to die,” Will said it quietly, careful not to accuse the man of the crime, but leaving him plenty of rope to hang himself.
Eyes bulging wildly, he gazed at his wife, standing stone cold in shock. “I didn’t mean to, I was only trying to keep her quiet. For us, for you and me.”
“Raymond.” Catherine’s face drained of color. “You killed that woman?” she whispered. “You—murdered her?”
“No! She fell and hit her head. Goddamn it, it was an accident. Not murder. I didn’t mean to hurt her, I swear, I only meant to scare her. To make her shut up, but she just kept on.” He grabbed his wife’s arms and shook
her. “The bitch wouldn’t listen to reason. Kept saying I had to do the right thing. She would have ruined everything, made me a laughingstock, made me own up to fathering that trashy little nobody.”
“Let go of me.” Her voice shook. Her skin, already pale, looked bloodless now. “Let go of me, right now.”
His hands dropped away. The flush died as well, leaving his skin an ashen hue. He looked old, defeated. Scared shitless.
“Surely you don’t think . . . It was an accident, I tell you. I made a mistake. I’m not a killer, Catherine. You know I’m not.”
“I don’t know you at all,” Catherine Jennings said, and walked out of the room.
“I’ll see if I can find someone to be with her,” Fielder said. “You take care of him.” He jerked his head toward Jennings, staring vacantly at the empty doorway. “I guess you earned this one, McClain.”
“Raymond Jennings,” Will said, stepping forward and taking his arm, “you are under arrest for the murder of Frances Granger.”
Chapter Eighteen
THANKS TO DEPUTY MASTERS thinking Tessa and Will were still together, he allowed her to wait for Will in his office. Tessa had debated calling him, but in the end decided a phone call was too impersonal for her news.
After all, a man deserved to be told in person he wasn’t going to be a father.
Or maybe, she admitted, she just couldn’t stand to give up the chance to see him again. Talk to him. Touch him. To see if his eyes still lit up when he saw her, or if he’d already forgotten her and put her behind him like a bad dream. Get a grip, she told herself. You’re only here to tell him the news. Nothing has changed, nothing is going to change.
She seated herself at his desk, taking the only chair in the tiny room. Glancing around, she noted the bareness of the cubicle. A desk, a chair, a wastebasket. Nothing on the walls but a water stain, nothing to brighten up the drab beige color. Not much on the desk except a black cordless phone, a paper clip and an old phone book. She wondered how Will worked in so small an area, especially considering his own size. She’d be claustrophobic after ten minutes in the place. But Will probably didn’t even notice the spartan surroundings, or the limited size, because when he was there, he gave his full attention to his work.