Well, that put another spin on everything.
“Did you know he was getting the DNA test done?” I asked Monica.
She shook her head, blinking back the tears pooling in her reddened eyes. “He told me he took some of my hair from a brush in my bathroom a few months ago. He didn’t want to tell me in case he was wrong.”
“All right. But this isn’t what you wanted to tell me, though.” I handed the document to Monica.
“No. I thought I’d already told you about him being my dad. I still called him Vincent and he said he was okay with it.” She slid the test results into her purse. “I wanted to tell you he was planning to change his will, so I’d get some of Frakes Realty. I didn’t mention it before because it didn’t matter since he was still alive.”
“Does Sylvia own any part of it? You told me Frakes Realty was his company, but she runs it.”
“That’s true, but I think she owns a percentage. Maybe forty percent. I’m not sure.” She smiled through the tears. “I might get to be her boss if she’s not in jail for killing Vincent.”
I would have loved to be a fly on the wall if that ever happened. The new arrangement could throw a kink in Sylvia’s plans to expand the business—if Vincent had changed his will and it was valid. If it was, I wondered how long it could be held up in probate court. Sylvia would certainly fight Monica’s inheritance.
“Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?” My cell phone buzzed, and I pulled it out of my pocket and peeked at the caller ID—Brad. I let it go to voicemail. I caught Theresa’s raised eyebrows. No doubt she suspected who it was.
So what?
“I don’t think there’s anything else I need to tell you. I thought you might want to know about the will. I also wanted to show you the DNA results and wondered if maybe Sylvia found out he did that.” Her eyes widened. “Oh no! Did I just make myself a target of your investigation? I didn’t do it. I didn’t. I think Sylvia did. That’s why I told you.” She shot up and started pacing. “Oh no. Oh no. I didn’t do it! Please believe me. Why would I tell you about the will if I killed him?”
“We have to explore every possibility. Thanks for sharing the information.” I stood and headed for the door, with Theresa close behind.
Monica trailed after us. “Detective Valentine?” she whispered.
I turned, with my hand on the doorknob. “Yes?”
“Please find out who killed him.”
“I plan to. Take care.” I stepped through the door. Not feeling like driving, I tossed the keys to Theresa. On the way to the station, I called Bernie to give him an update and get one in return. It turned out Khrystal and the baby were doing fine, and I arranged to stop by for a few minutes after work. Bernie agreed, but sounded as tired as I felt. I disconnected and glanced at Theresa. She ogled. I pointed toward the windshield. “Eyes on the damn road, girl!”
“Sheesh. You’re cranky. You need to go talk to your man.”
I narrowed my eyes at her before realizing she was right, but first, I needed to see Khrystal.
I arrived at Bernie’s just as he and Khrystal finished eating dinner. Bernie was doing the dishes when Khrystal answered the door in her bare feet. After we hugged, she led me into the living room and eased herself down onto the sectional sofa. I reached out to help her. She looked fragile. Khrystal was tiny. She told people she was five feet tall, but I believed she exaggerated. Before her pregnancy, she’d weighed ninety-five pounds, maybe one hundred if she wore a heavy coat and boots. Her black, naturally wavy hair currently hung to her waist in a French braid. That hair would weigh another couple of pounds. The pregnancy had filled out her face; the prominent cheekbones were gone. She wasn’t wearing makeup on her smooth, clear, peanut-butter-colored skin. She propped her feet up on the coffee table. Her usually slim ankles and feet had swollen and indentations from her shoes crisscrossed the tops. Her little feet couldn’t fit into her shoes anymore.
I smiled at her and couldn’t believe she looked better than I’d thought she would. “How are you feeling? You look great.” I meant it. My phone buzzed, and I peeked inside my purse to glance at the caller ID. Brad again.
Again, I ignored it.
“Oh, I have my good days and not so good.” She rubbed her belly, which made her look as though she’d swallowed a basketball. She didn’t appear to have gained weight anywhere except her stomach and face.
“Are you still having the morning sickness?” My phone buzzed again, but I let it go to voicemail without looking.
“You going to get that?” She eyed my purse, raising her brows.
“No. I can call back. Are you eating and keeping it down?”
“The morning sickness isn’t as bad as it was, let me tell you. I’m putting on weight, and the baby is doing well.”
I jerked a thumb toward the kitchen, where Bernie was banging around pots. “How’s he doing?” I’d lowered my voice.
She smiled. “Fine. He’s trying. You know?”
Actually, I didn’t.
“Trying?”
“Us. He wants to get married. I just don’t want it to be because of the baby.” She stifled a yawn. “That’s the reason I waited so long to tell him about the pregnancy after we broke up. When we were living together, he slept in the spare bedroom for months. We barely saw each other. He was going out all the time and I was in nursing school and working. I ate like a pig and he probably thought I was getting fat. I didn’t even think about being pregnant. I was stressed and our relationship was a mess.”
“I’m sorry.” I agreed that they shouldn’t be together solely because of the baby. I’d indicated to Bernie that they needed to work on their relationship when he told me about the pregnancy. “You’re tired. I’ll talk to Bernie, then I’ll get going.” I stood.
“All right. I’m off to bed.” She laughed. “I seem to be sleeping a lot.” She slid her feet off the table then stood and gave me another hug. “Syd, I’m so glad you finally had time to stop by. I haven’t seen much of you in months. I know it’s partly my fault because of nursing school and the schedule I kept at work. Don’t be a stranger. Okay?”
“I won’t. The same goes for you. Take care of yourself and that little person you’re carrying.” I rested a hand gently on her bulge and she smiled.
She waddled down the hall and I headed to the kitchen in time to see Bernie put away the last of the dishes and closed the cupboard. When he saw me, he opened the fridge and pulled out a Corona. “Hi, Syd. Want a beer?” He opened it and took a couple of gulps as he peered at me through chocolate-brown, glassy eyes. I wasn’t sure if he was tired or he’d been drinking too much.
“No beer for me. Too tired.” I followed him to the living room, and we sat on the sectional, his beer nearly gone.
How could that be?
He plopped his feet on the coffee table with a thud. “So, Monica Stewart is Vincent Frakes’s daughter, and he may have added her to his will.”
“You think she had anything to do with his death?”
Bernie picked up his bottle, pushed himself up, and finished off the rest on the way back into the kitchen. “Sure you don’t want one?” The first bottle crashed into the recycler, and he came back with another. “I can’t see her killing her father. I thought they were messing around, like adultery.”
“Well, we still don’t know that they weren’t.” I shrugged. “You never know. They might have been intimate before they knew they were related. It’s happened before.” I watched him chug. He’d been drinking too much for a while. Months. So long as it didn’t affect his work, it was none of my business.
He set his beer on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “True, but I think we need to look more closely at Sylvia. Something’s up with that lady. I wouldn’t rule her out of killing her old man.”
I glanced at the bottle. “Theresa’s going to talk to the Miltons tomorrow, and I’m going with her.”
“Good idea. Unless there’s someone else we need
to talk to, I’ll work on our reports. Are we waiting for forensics from anyone? I could follow up on that, hold their feet to the fire.”
“We still don’t know how our hot tub Jane Doe died. I was going to talk to Dr. Lee but haven’t had the chance. Can you do that tomorrow?”
“Consider it done.” He yawned and ran his fingers through his dark hair.
“I’m going to take off.” I stood and started for the door. “See you tomorrow.” I looked over my shoulder, wondering how many more beers he’d have between now and then.
18
At home, the doorbell rang as I was pulling on my pajamas. I looked at the clock. Not too late—depending on who it was. Hoping it wasn’t Craig with another bottle of wine, I grabbed a robe and slid my feet into slippers.
Brad had his back to the door when I peeked out the peephole. I sighed. Time to talk. Except, I didn’t know what to say, which was why I hadn’t returned his calls.
Just call me the Cowardly Lion.
I took a deep breath and opened the door. He turned around, smiling sheepishly. He had red roses in his hand. A dozen, maybe.
“I’ve been calling.” He didn’t try to come in.
“I know. I’ve been busy.”
Now what? No clue.
“These are for you.” He handed me the roses.
“Thanks.” I took the flowers, put them to my nose, and pretended to sniff. “Do you want to come in?” I pushed the door open wider and moved aside.
“Sure.” He grinned, stepped inside, and stood in the entrance looking at his feet. He wore black dress slacks, a dark-blue, long-sleeved shirt, and a black tie with stripes matching his shirt. What was this about?
“Are you going somewhere?” I looked him up and down.
“I’m already where I want to be.” He took my hand and led me to the sofa, where we sat. “But only if it’s what you want, too.”
I gazed at him then laid the flowers on the sofa. “You shouldn’t have turned off my phone.”
“Sorry. I won’t do it again, I swear.” He sandwiched my hand between his warm but callused ones.
I pulled my hand away, picked up the roses, and stood. “I should get these in a vase.”
“Am I forgiven? Can we just start over, Sydney?” He followed me into the kitchen.
My heart pounded. “Okay. It had better not happen again.” I took my gardening shears out of the drawer and turned toward him. “You want to get me fired or something?”
“Of course not.” He watched me snip the stem ends, fill the vase with water, and drop a few of the roses into it. “Well, it looks like you’ve had a long day. I should get going.” He didn’t move. All I did was continue my rose snipping.
“Maybe we could do something tomorrow.” I swept the stems’ ends into the trash, carried the vase into the living room, and placed it on the coffee table.
Brad followed. “Should I pick you up at six, or would seven be better?” He sauntered to the door.
“Six works for me. Where are we going?”
“How about TGI Fridays, where we met?” He smiled as he opened the door. “It could be like a semi-anniversary.”
“Good idea.” And it was. We needed to remember that. “Thanks for the roses. They’re very pretty.”
“Glad you like them.” We hugged and kissed. A long kiss. My knees almost buckled before he pulled away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stepped outside and headed to his truck.
“Good night.” My rubbery legs just about carried me to my bedroom, where I lay back and thought about the evening.
What the hell just happened?
19
The next morning, Theresa and I stood on the porch of Kelly Milton’s parents’ house, waiting for someone to answer the door. The little dogs went crazy inside.
“Did Kelly and Jake know you were coming this morning?” I asked.
“They’re the ones who set the time when I called yesterday.”
“Maybe they forgot. Do you have their phone numbers on you?” I looked through my notebook, checking for their numbers.
Theresa was faster. She dialed and put the phone to her ear. It rang and a few seconds later, the ringtone of a popular song came from inside the house. The dogs continued to bark and whimper.
“Who did you call? Kelly or Jake?”
“Jake.” She looked through her notes then dialed again.
A car swung into the driveway. The wayward couple had returned. They hurried toward us wearing big smiles. What was up now?
Kelly rushed across the lawn. “I’m so sorry. We didn’t expect to be so long. We wanted to call, but Jake forgot his phone, and I didn’t have your number with me.”
Jake unlocked the door, and the dogs zoomed out, ran around the yard, then returned to jump on Jake and Kelly. “Do you have any news on the house we rented and our money? Did you catch the guy?” Jake stood at the door, holding it open for us.
“I was going to ask if you had any news. I hadn’t heard from you.” Theresa put away her phone. “The last I heard, you were thinking about renting another house.”
“That’s where we were,” Kelly said.
“We need to get out of this place.” Jake glanced at Kelly. “No offense to your mom and dad.”
“None taken. I agree with you.” Kelly led us to the family room, and we all sat.
“I haven’t found anyone in the database who pulled the same type of scam and matched the description you gave. Have you remembered anything else that could help us?” Theresa asked.
Jake glanced at Kelly, who shook her head.
“We figured it was a loss. We’re moving on. Turning the page, so to speak,” Jake said.
“When we last spoke, it seemed like you didn’t have the money to move. That’s why you moved in here,” Theresa said.
“That was true at the time, but we’ve managed to get the cash together.” Jake reached for Kelly’s hand. “Right, honey?”
She nodded slightly.
“May we ask how that happened?” I asked.
“Is it important?” Jake asked.
“It could be.” I got out my notebook. Something was fishy.
“We borrowed it from Kelly’s parents.” Jake squeezed Kelly’s hand.
She was still. No nod or smile. Nothing.
“How much?” Theresa asked.
“Excuse me?” Jake frowned.
“How much did you borrow?” Theresa asked.
“Well, we haven’t actually borrowed it yet. Kelly asked before I came back, and they said they’d give us help if we needed it.” He chuckled. “We definitely need it. They should be back soon and we’ll be able move.”
“All right. We’ll let you know if anything new develops with your case, and I’d like you to do the same.” Theresa put her notebook in her purse.
The Miltons stood and headed for the door.
Eager to get rid of us?
“Thoughts?” I asked as I drove us back to the station.
“They’re lying through their teeth.”
“Well, he is. She didn’t say much,” I said.
“I agree. The question is, why is he lying, and why didn’t she say much?”
I looked her way. “Have you ever met her parents?”
“No. Why? Do you think they don’t exist? Hey, maybe that’s not even her parents’ house.” She hummed creepy horror movie music.
I laughed. “You never know what people are hiding.”
“Let’s check it out. Maybe they ‘rented’ that house, too.” Theresa placed air quotes around the word “rented.”
“It’s always the people you least expect. The innocent-looking young couple.” I glanced at Theresa.
She pointed to the windshield. “Eyes on the road!” She slapped her thigh and laughed. “The innocent young couple might have murdered hot tub Jane Doe the day before. Maybe when you saw Kelly, she was coming to remove the body. They could’ve both been in the house before they moved in.” She hummed some horror movie music.
>
Fighting the urge to shoot her another sideways glance, I nodded. “But why would she show up and wait around outside the house with all of those police officers there? That’s stupid.”
“Hey, I’m just thinking out loud. I haven’t worked it through yet.”
When we reached the station, I informed Bernie about the Milton situation. He’d managed to get the cause of death for Jane Doe from Dr. Lee—our victim had died of a head injury, which we’d suspected, too. She thought it might have been caused from a fall. Perhaps Jane Doe had hit her head after falling into the hot tub. Dr. Lee indicated bleeding inside the skull had created pressure on the brain. She said Jane had most likely slipped into a coma and died later. If Jane had received medical care quickly, the pressure could’ve been relieved with surgery and she might have survived. The estimated time of death was one or two hours before the gardener found her. Dr. Lee also believed Jane would’ve exhibited symptoms from the injury, like slurred speech, confusion, and staggering.
“I’m going to run a public records search for Kelly’s parents’ house.”
“Why?” He frowned, and shadows deepened under his eyes. At least he didn’t smell like a brewery.
I sat on the edge of his desk. “When Theresa and I stopped by there this morning, the Miltons were late because they’d been trying to find a place to live.”
Bernie’s brows rose.
“Yeah, I was surprised, too. They said Kelly’s parents gave them money.”
“Well, that’s reasonable. Parents help out their children all the time.”
“Agreed, but when I asked how much her parents had given them, they told us they didn’t actually have the money yet.”
“Hmm. Why lie and say the parents gave them money in the first place?”
“My point exactly. Theresa and I started wondering if her parents even existed because we’ve never seen or spoken to them.”
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