Sunflower Street (Rose Hill Mysteries Book 8)

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Sunflower Street (Rose Hill Mysteries Book 8) Page 21

by Pamela Grandstaff


  “It might help,” Scott said. “Give her some closure.”

  “I need to get downstairs and help clean up from lunch,” she said.

  “That reminds me,” Scott said. “Floyd called; he wants to talk to you about those complaint calls.”

  “Floyd,” Maggie said, when she finally got the health inspector on the phone. “Scott said you called?”

  “Yeah, Maggie, I got a number for you,” he said. “I called in a couple of favors down to the shop and got the number from the complaints about your café and your mother’s place.”

  “It was the same person?”

  “Same number, anyways,” he said. “Now, I know I can count on you not to tell anybody how you come to have this.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  Maggie wrote down the number as he read it off. When she called it, it rang and rang, but no one answered. She called Hannah.

  “Hannah,” she said when her cousin answered. “What’s it called where you can look up a number and see who has it?”

  “Reverse look up,” Hannah said.

  Maggie told her what information she had.

  “Keep me on while you look,” Hannah said.

  Maggie used her office computer to open a browser, find the website, and enter the phone number.

  “What’s ‘Trashy Treasures?’ ” Maggie asked her.

  “That’s the shop owned by Sophie Dean,” Hannah said. “She’s Jillian’s archenemy. Claire’s been working that angle; you better call her. I’m on my way over.”

  Maggie hung up and called Claire.

  “Oh my goodness,” Claire said. “These people are all crazy.”

  “Don’t say anything more,” Maggie said. “You’re on your cell.”

  “I’m coming over,” Claire said.

  Claire met Hannah and Maggie in Maggie’s kitchen. Sunlight streamed through the east-facing windows, and Scott’s big tabby cat, Duke, was reclining on his back in the recycling bin on top of a stack of newspapers, soaking up the warmth. He opened one big gold eye to see who was disturbing his sleep, then stretched and turned over.

  “Sorry,” Claire told him.

  They sat at the kitchen table and sipped iced tea while they brainstormed.

  “So, this Sophie chick sees her opportunity to cause Jillian some grief by framing her for slitting your tires and trying to get our businesses shut down,” Hannah said.

  “Looks like it,” Claire said. “She made the health department calls after I visited her for the first time, she was the only one who knew I had an appointment at the attorney’s office, and she lied about being downtown that day. I know it was her on the video.”

  “Should you confront her about it?” Maggie asked.

  “I’m afraid to,” Claire said. “And what good would it do?”

  “Maybe she’d stop if she knew we were on to her,” Hannah said.

  “How far would she go?” Maggie asked. “Would she try to frame Jillian for Gigi’s death?”

  “You mean kill Gigi and frame her?” Claire asked.

  “That’s pretty extreme revenge,” Hannah said.

  “No, probably not,” Claire said. “It’s malicious mischief, but I don’t think she’d kill Gigi. She sounded as if she was fond of the family. I think she just saw this as an opportunity to cause trouble for Jillian.”

  “Okay, then, what’s next?” Maggie asked Hannah. “We’ve got Amber, Candace, and Jillian all with opportunity and motive. We’ve got Marigold supplying the chicken salad, but I can’t imagine why she’d want to kill Gigi.”

  “Let’s start with Amber,” Hannah said. “She’s my first choice. She had access to the chicken salad and the perfume, and she stole the perfume afterward.”

  “But she didn’t get rid of the chicken salad,” Maggie said.

  “If you weren’t allergic to penicillin, it wouldn’t harm you,” Hannah said. “No one who ate it would know.”

  “Gigi has an argument outside with Chip,” Claire said, “and while Chloe is busy listening, Amber puts penicillin in the chicken salad or the perfume.”

  “Or both,” Hannah said.

  “But then she would have to count on Gigi putting on more perfume or eating the chicken salad before she went back in to steal stuff,” Maggie said. “There’s no way she could guarantee that.”

  “You think she put it in the chicken salad, but not in the perfume, assuming Gigi would eat the salad at the luncheon?” Claire said. “And she just stole the perfume because it was expensive?”

  “Let’s say that’s true,” Hannah said. “Where was Gigi when Amber went upstairs into her bedroom and stole the perfume?”

  “Hmm,” Maggie said. “Could she have been dead already?”

  “Only if she ate the chicken salad or put on the perfume as soon as Chloe and Amber left,” Hannah said.

  “She was probably just in the bathroom or something,” Maggie said.

  “Okay, how about this?” Claire asked. “Amber puts the penicillin in the chicken salad, knowing Gigi will eat it at the luncheon. Let’s assume all goes as planned and Gigi goes into anaphylactic shock during the luncheon. She’d have guests there who could call the paramedics; it may not have killed her.”

  “She’d want the penicillin to be in something she was sure Gigi would have contact with while she was alone,” Maggie said.

  “But there would be no guarantee she would put on more perfume that day,” Claire said.

  “Maybe it was set up to happen the next time she put on her perfume, whenever that was,” Hannah said. “Maybe Amber didn’t expect it to happen immediately, but the next morning.”

  “Then why steal the perfume?” Maggie asked. “She’d leave it there.”

  “I’m as confused as a fart in a fan factory,” Hannah said.

  “We’re running in circles,” Claire said. “I think she stole the perfume just because it was expensive and she was mad at Gigi.”

  “There may have been more than one bottle of perfume,” Hannah said.

  “What if she didn’t put penicillin in anything?” Maggie asked. “What if it wasn’t Amber?”

  “Candace is next,” Hannah said. “She was in the house after Amber.”

  “She went in and came right back out, according to Chloe,” Maggie said. “Unless she ran upstairs, injected her with penicillin, and left …”

  “She’s not the nurse,” Hannah said. “She needed Gigi alive to give her the check.”

  “Which she probably forged,” Claire said.

  “That leaves Jillian,” Hannah said. “She probably had a key, or could have come and gone at any time through the back door with no one seeing her. She could have tainted the chicken salad and the perfume, or, she could have given her an injection.”

  “With no witnesses,” Claire said.

  “She was the first one to get to the body afterwards,” Hannah said. “She could have taken anything before I got up there.”

  “True,” Claire said. “We know she took the check and gave it to Candace.”

  “What does Scott say?” Claire asked Maggie.

  “He won’t tell me much,” Maggie said. “He’s going to interview Marigold today about the chicken salad.”

  “That should be fun,” Hannah said.

  “What’s Sarah doing?” Claire asked. “This is her case.”

  “Not much,” Maggie said. “Unless the coroner’s report suggests Gigi was murdered, it’s not worth her while. It could be weeks.”

  “Meanwhile, someone’s getting away with it,” Hannah said. “On our watch.”

  “Let’s go back to this check thing,” Maggie said. “We now know Candace gave Jillian a job to keep her quiet about the forgery.”

  “Yep,” Claire said. “Director of the new children’s hospital.”

  “What if Candace killed Gigi, knowing the check was not going to be for what she said it would be, and bribed Jillian with the job to help her cover it up?” Maggie asked.

  “I have a ha
rd time seeing Candace as a cold-hearted murderer,” Claire said. “An opportunist after the fact, yes, but not a killer.”

  “I hate this,” Maggie said. “How are we going to get any of them to confess?”

  “I’m meeting with Walter later on today,” Claire said. “I’m hoping that if Jillian and Candace are threatened with jail time over the forgery, one of them will rat the other one out.”

  “How can we get to Amber?” Hannah asked.

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Maggie said. “I think she may confess to Ingrid.”

  “Who’s Ingrid?” Claire asked.

  “Oh,” Maggie said, realizing she was just about to spoil the surprise party. “She’s Amber’s boss at the catering company. I met her and she told me all about Amber’s sad run-away life. She loves the little beast but even she says Amber’s capable of just about anything.”

  “Lovely,” Claire said. “Are we of the same mind about Sophie Dean? She’s an angry, jealous nut but she was nowhere near Gigi’s house the day she died so she couldn’t have done it.”

  “Agreed,” Maggie said.

  “Agreed,” Hannah said.

  “What do we do next?” Claire asked.

  Everyone was silent for several moments.

  “You and Walter will work on Jillian and Candace,” Hannah said. “Maggie will talk to Ingrid again, see if she can find out something more about Amber, and I’m going to grab a tiger by the tail.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Maggie asked.

  “I’m going out to Tiger Tails to apply for a job.”

  Maggie and Claire exchanged looks.

  “Not as a stripper,” Hannah said. “They advertised for a cleaner, and I’m going to apply.”

  “Be careful,” Claire said. “Amber’s armed and dangerous.”

  “I’ll be sure to wear my bulletproof G-string,” Hannah said.

  Claire met Walter in his office, where he introduced her to a distinguished-looking, gray-haired man in a suit and tie.

  “Call me Jeremy,” the man said, and shook her hand in a warm, gracious manner. “Walter has gone on and on about you; I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

  Claire must have looked confused, because Walter and Jeremy exchanged smiles.

  “Jeremy is my partner,” Walter said. “We’ve been together for over twenty years.”

  “Oh, I see,” Claire said. “How wonderful! Congratulations. Are you planning to make it legal now that you can?”

  Jeremy laughed and Walter winced.

  “We talk about that a lot these days,” Jeremy said. “I’d like to do it but Walter thinks we’re safer leaving it as it is.”

  “We’re more committed than most legally married couples I know,” Walter said. “I don’t see what we would gain from exposing ourselves to the negative attitudes that surround the issue right now.”

  “So many people worked hard to earn us this right; some lost their lives,” Jeremy said. “It seems ungrateful not to exercise it.”

  “That’s admirable but not very romantic, Jeremy,” Walter said.

  “It would be romantic, Walter,” Jeremy said. “And I’m just saying my mother isn’t going to be around forever.”

  “Sorry I started this,” Claire said.

  “Don’t be sorry,” Walter said. “I’m sure we will talk about it again before the day is over.”

  “Walter confided in me about the check,” Jeremy said. “I brought a copy for him to see.”

  Jeremy handed the photocopy to Claire, who went to stand by the window, where the light was better.

  There was no question the handwriting on the middle of the check was different from Gigi’s on the top and bottom. Whoever had done it had not even bothered to disguise the difference in the style of zeroes added to the number.

  “This is pretty blatant,” Claire said, and looked up at Walter.

  “I don’t think we need an expert,” Walter said. “The question is what do we want to do about it?”

  “Shouldn’t you call the police?” Claire asked. “Aren’t you obligated to report something like this?”

  “Come sit down with us,” Jeremy said. “I want to give you my perspective on behalf of the bank.”

  Claire sat down at the conference table, and Jeremy and Walter joined her.

  “Right now the check is being held at the bank pending further due diligence,” Jeremy said. “Unless I approve it to be deposited in the Children’s Hospital Fund account, it won’t be. We have a little time to figure out the best course of action. If we get the authorities involved, it has the potential to embarrass the bank, the hospital, and quite possibly put two women in prison. If they had forged the check for personal gain, I wouldn’t hesitate. I think this was more a case of good intentions and poor impulse control.”

  “What can you do?”

  “I’ve called both women, and invited them to meet with me to discuss it,” Jeremy said.

  “Here in this office?”

  “They should be here any minute,” Walter said.

  “What’s the plan?”

  “We’ll show them the photocopy of the check,” Walter said. “We’ll communicate our concerns, and then give them the opportunity to do the right thing.”

  “Jeremy will suggest that they allow him to shred the check,” Walter said.

  “I can withdraw it from that day’s batch as a mistakenly deposited check,” Jeremy said. “The auditor will have questions, but I think we can handle those discreetly.”

  “What if they won’t admit it’s forged?” Claire asked.

  “Then I will inform them that I, as the estate’s executor, will contest the check, subpoena the bank to seize it, and have it analyzed by the F.B.I.,” said Walter.

  “I would love to be a fly on the wall for that meeting.”

  Walter and Jeremy exchanged pleased looks.

  “As Eugene’s guardian you have every right to be here,” Walter said. “As long as our bank representative doesn’t mind.”

  “I’d be delighted for you to stay,” Jeremy said. “Afterward, we’ll go to lunch.”

  Jillian and Candace arrived separately, and both were surprised by Claire’s presence. Candace covered her fear with politeness, but Jillian was a raw nerve.

  “What’s she doing here?” she asked.

  Walter explained Claire’s presence and invited Jillian to take a seat. Claire could see they were both nervous. Candace kept touching her hair and her face. Jillian was visibly trembling, could not sit still, and her pinned pupils were once again on display. More interesting to Claire was the fact that the two “dear friends” didn’t greet each other or even acknowledge each other’s presence.

  Walter introduced Jeremy. Instead of speaking, Jeremy took two copies of the check and handed one to each women. His stern face did all the talking.

  Candace kept her cool, but Jillian could not.

  “Why show me this?” she asked. “This has nothing to do with me.”

  “I understand you gave this check to Candace at Mrs. O’Hare’s house just after you found her body,” Walter said.

  “It was made out to the Children’s Hospital Fund and Candy’s in charge of fundraising. There’s nothing wrong with what I did,” Jillian said. “If you accuse me of breaking any laws, I’ll call my attorney.”

  Her tone was contemptuous, but Jeremy maintained his poise.

  “Unfortunately,” Jeremy said, “the check seems to have been altered. You can see that zeroes have been added to the numerical portion, and someone other than Mrs. O’Hare has finished filling out the middle line.”

  “Looks fine to me,” Jillian said. “I certainly didn’t tamper with it. I guess someone else could have.”

  At this point she threw such a shade-filled look of contempt at Candace that it almost took Claire’s breath away. To Candace’s credit, she kept it together.

  “What are our options?” Candace asked Walter.

  “I would suggest that, since there is
a question as to the authenticity of the check, it be withdrawn and destroyed.”

  “I already told the committee about it,” Candace said. “They’re preparing marketing materials based on its existence.”

  “You’re sure to suffer some embarrassment,” Walter said. “But wouldn’t that be preferable to the alternative?”

  All the color drained out of Candace’s face. It stood in stark contrast to the red which suffused Jillian’s.

  “I had nothing to do with this,” Jillian said. “I want that on the record.”

  “Jillian,” Candace said. “Pay attention; if we cooperate there will be no record. You don’t need to say anything else. It’s over.”

  “I was promised a job,” Jillian said. “You can’t go back on that now just because the check didn’t pass inspection.”

  “That will be up to the board,” Candace said, wearily. “Since I plan to resign my position as chair of the committee, I won’t have any influence over that.”

  “That seems the wisest course,” Walter said.

  “I will see that the check is destroyed,” Jeremy said.

  “Fine,” Candace said. “May I go?”

  “Certainly,” Walter said. “Thank you both for coming in.”

  Candace left, with Jillian close behind her, haranguing her about the job she was promised. Jeremy and Walter waited until they were safely out of hearing distance before chuckling.

  “Nicely done,” Claire said.

  “We still have one important matter to discuss,” Walter said.

  “What’s that?” Claire asked.

  “Where shall we go for lunch?” he said.

  Maggie went to the catering company and found Ingrid working in the kitchen.

  “I don’t have time to talk,” Ingrid said, as she checked the status of several dozen mini quiches in the oven. “I’m short-handed and down to the wire.”

  “May I help?” Maggie asked.

  “Actually, that would be great,” Ingrid said.

  Maggie scrubbed her hands and put on the clean apron Ingrid offered. For the next hour, she was Ingrid’s assistant, and when they were done, Ingrid handed off the results of their labor to two college-aged boys, who loaded them in the van and headed out to a venue.

 

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