BETH FORCED A SMILE as Bob Anderson offered his condolences. Jason hovered nearby. She met his eyes, then looked away. His protectiveness was kind of charming, but it reminded her too strongly that there was a killer out there. She rubbed her forehead. She was beginning to get a headache.
“Mr. Pontifore—Palmer—wanted to be here himself,” Anderson continued, “but he has so much to do before he leaves for Tanzania. All those lost and hungry souls are waiting, you know. I was happy to be able to come in his stead.” His face crinkled with embarrassment. “Well, not happy, this isn’t a happy occasion at all. What I mean is, I’m glad to meet you, even if this is a horrible circumstance. And to be able to offer my sympathies in person, of course. I only met Mr. Pontifore—Christopher, that is—on one occasion. That was before you married. He seemed like a fine man.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance, echoing Beth’s headache.
“Thank you. It was kind of you to fly all the way out here.” Beth smiled again, trying to put Anderson at ease. He was a nice enough looking man, with brown eyes and thinning brown hair. He was just a few pounds overweight and had a desk worker’s slump. He might be a babbler, but at least he didn’t know Ellie, so she didn’t have to worry as much about making a mistake with him. “Do you share Palmer’s interest in religion?”
“Yes, of course, but, I uh, I’m not quite as fervent as he.” Anderson lifted his drink in evidence. “His faith is, uh, remarkable.” He looked a little cornered by her question, as if he were afraid she might rat him out to his employer, so she wasn’t surprised when he changed the subject. “Did you ever call that private investigator I told you about?”
So that’s where Elle got the referral. “My sister and I were on the way to see him when we had the accident. I never got around to calling him again. I lost track of the information after that.”
“If you need the number again, I could send it to you when I get back to my office.”
“Thanks, but that won’t be necessary. The sheriff is taking this much more seriously now.”
“He is?” Anderson looked surprised. “What changed his mind?”
She spoke softly, so no one would overhear. She didn’t want to provide more grist for the gossip mongers. “Someone tried to kill me last night.”
“Oh my goodness!” Anderson lowered his voice too. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Jason saved me.”
“What happened?”
Beth hesitated, wondering how much she should say. Jason seemed to think it was important to keep every detail between themselves and the sheriff, but then she looked at Anderson, and laughed inwardly at her paranoia. Besides, even if he was the killer, she wouldn’t be telling him anything he didn’t already know. She drew Bob further aside. “Someone pushed me into a flooded wash. I almost drowned. But at least now we have proof that something is going on.”
“Have they caught the man?”
“Not yet.”
Anderson looked around the room like he expected the killer to jump out from behind the curtains, then took another sip of his drink. “Do they know who it was?”
“Yeah. They’re looking for him.”
The telephone rang and they both jumped. Beth laughed. “I guess I’m still a little nervous.”
Anderson laughed too. “At least you have an excuse.” He cocked his head at the bar. “I think I’ll get a refill.”
Beth wasn’t sure if that was a good idea, but she let him go. When he came back, she changed the subject. “Are you heading back to Virginia right away?”
“Palmer asked me to stay a few days in case you needed any help with the trust.”
“As far as that goes, Mr. Jackson is taking care of everything. Where are you staying?”
“I haven’t got a place yet. Somebody mentioned the Starlite Motel. Could you give me directions?”
Beth grimaced. She’d heard Ellie say the Starlite was little better than a roach motel. Unfortunately, he’d have to drive to Sierra Vista or Tucson for something better. She watched Anderson take a big swallow of his drink. I can’t let him drive in his condition. Damn.
“Why don’t you stay here. We have plenty of room.”
Anderson blinked at her. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”
Beth looked out the window. Another storm was rolling in. “If Palmer had come, I’d expect him to stay with us. Please. We’d be happy to have you.” Which wasn’t quite true, but it was the right thing to do.
Anderson smiled. “Thank you.”
“Ellie?” Connie Arenosa spoke from behind her.
Beth turned to see Chris’s old girlfriend with a tall handsome Latino who wore an expensive suit despite the summer heat.
“This is my fiancé, Eduardo Montenegro.”
Beth felt as though all the blood had suddenly left her body. Was this Chris and Ellie’s killer standing right in front of her? “I, uh, it’s a pleasure.” Somewhere she found the manners to offer her hand.
Montenegro took it gently in both of his. They were warm and dry. “I am sorry I could not attend the funeral, Señora. I have only just this hour returned to the country.”
Beth scraped enough wit together to reply. “I’m sure Chris would understand.”
“He was a great man. It is a sad thing, his passing.”
A flash of anger brought Beth back to her senses. She withdrew her hand from Montenegro’s. “He didn’t ‘pass,’ he was pushed. Into a mine shaft.”
“Sí, Connie has told me you believe this to be a murder. Does Sheriff Connor agree?”
“He does. Now.”
“I see.”
“Ellie?” Jason appeared at her side, standing close but not touching. “How’re you holding up? Can I get you anything?”
“I’m fine. Jason, this is Eduardo Montenegro. Señor Montenegro, this is Jason Blackforth, Chris’s best friend from college. Oh! Where are my manners? This is Bob Anderson.” She drew Bob forward from where he’d faded into the background. “He works for Chris’s cousin, Palmer.”
Montenegro shook hands briefly with Anderson, and just as quickly dismissed him to turn his attention to Jason. The two men shook hands, clearly sizing each other up. After a fraction of a second Montenegro inclined his head in an elegant, almost European, manner. “It is a pleasure to meet another of Chris’s friends. Please, call me Eduardo. I would be honored if you would call me friend as well.”
Jason nodded. “Eduardo.”
The tension between the two men made Beth nervous. “Eduardo has just returned to the States. Where were you? Mexico?”
Eduardo turned his warm chocolate eyes to her, and the tension seemed to evaporate. If he had tried to have her killed last night, he hid it well. “Sí, and before that, Spain and Portugal. I had business to attend to there, as well as making arrangements for our honeymoon.”
Beth forced a smile. “It sounds wonderful.”
“You went there, too, on your honeymoon, didn’t you?” Connie asked. “Which did you prefer, Madrid or Lisbon?”
Beth frowned and looked down, trying to remember if Maria had said anything about Chris and Ellie visiting Portugal.
“Consuela,” Eduardo chided softly in a rich baritone. “It is perhaps not an easy thing for her to speak of now.”
Connie made a sympathetic noise. “Of course. Please forgive me. I wasn’t thinking.”
“We must go now,” Eduardo said. He took Beth’s hand again and looked directly into her eyes. “I held Christopher in high esteem. If you need anything, anything at all, please call me. If I am not in town, Consuela will see to it. We are at your disposal.”
The offer seemed so genuine, the sentiment so real, that Beth found it easy to return a smile. “Thank you.”
Connie and Eduardo made their way through the room to the door, stopping occasionally to speak to a person here and there. Jason watched them carefully. Beth had the feeling that he was memorizing each person they spoke to.
Anderson reemerged from wherever
he’d faded away to. “He, uh, has a lot of presence, doesn’t he?”
“He has balls, I’ll give him that,” Jason muttered.
“I beg your pardon?” the accountant asked.
“Nothing,” Jason answered. Then his focus sharpened. Beth followed his gaze.
Near the door, Maria was hugging Eduardo and Connie.
“Maybe she knows him because of Connie,” Beth said. “Maybe Maria kept in touch after Connie and Chris broke up.”
“Maybe,” Jason said, still watching. The three of them talked easily, with smiles and touches for a few more minutes, then Connie and her fiancé left. Jason waited for Maria to work her way back across the room, before he intercepted her. “I didn’t know you knew Montenegro.”
Maria shrugged. “Sí. He is my mother’s cousin. I introduced him to Consuela.”
Maria is related to him! Is she in on the murder? Has she told him I’m not Ellie? Beth stiffened in alarm. But no, nothing in his behavior suggested that. Somehow she managed to speak in a normal tone. “I thought they met at a charity event.”
“Sí. But it was I who made sure they would both be there.” She smiled. “And you see how well it has worked out.”
“But he’s—” Beth started, but Jason cut her off.
“He’s a fine catch, and a lucky man. Consuela and Eduardo are lucky to have you as a friend, Maria.”
Beth’s mind circled around. Maria is related to Eduardo? What had she told him? The sheriff seemed to think highly of Maria. Maybe there was nothing to worry about. Beth tried to think: had they said anything about Montenegro in front of her?
Beth hated the path her thoughts were taking. But Maria didn’t have to be in on the murder. She could have said something innocently to Eduardo at a family gathering. Something that made Montenegro decide that Chris had to die.
But Eduardo seemed so genuine when he’d offered his help. He didn’t seem like someone who would plan another man’s death.
Beth rubbed her forehead. Her headache was getting worse.
“YOU INVITED HIM TO stay?” Jason didn’t even try to keep the dismay out of his voice. What was she thinking?
The last of the guests had left, and Anderson was unpacking his bag in one of the guest rooms. Jason and Beth were sitting on the couch in the library. Ollie was lying at their feet.
“There are only two motels in Jimson Weed and both of them are awful.”
“I know, it’s just …” He bit back what he wanted to say. He hadn’t expected to have to maintain the pretense of mere friendship with “Ellie” during the next few days, or sneak down the hall at night. It had been awful today, wanting to touch her and not being able to. Going undercover with the Russian mafia had been easier.
“I know,” she said, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “But it’s only for a couple of days.”
“Okay.” He sounded like a petulant child, even to himself. “We’ll have to be careful what we say around him, though.”
“What? You suspect him, too?”
“Not specifically. But it pays to be careful. And it will be easier for you to maintain your cover as Ellie if he doesn’t know too much.”
Beth nodded. “Okay.”
He changed the subject. “The pictures came in from the sheriff during the wake.” He got up and retrieved a sheet of paper from the desk.
Beth scrutinized the pictures of Nyles Bickford. They were mug shots. No one ever looked good in them and this guy was no exception. Jason doubted Bickford made a much better impression in the flesh.
“He’s scary.”
Jason sat down next to her and drew the paper out of her hands. When she looked at him, he met her eyes with a level gaze. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Tears welled in her eyes and she looked away. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually so weepy.” She wiped her eyes with her fingertips. She tried to smile. “I’m glad I didn’t wear make-up today.”
Jason brought her face around toward him with a finger on her chin. He wished he could make this less miserable for her.
“It’s okay to cry. You’ve been though a lot. You can lean on me. That’s what I’m here for.”
Ollie raised his head, then barked once at the doorway. Beth stiffened and Jason dropped his hand from her face. A moment later they heard a step in the hallway, and Anderson came into the room.
“Hi. Uh, Maria says dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”
Jason gestured him to a chair, but Anderson bent and picked up the picture of Bickford.
“Is this the guy?” he asked. “The one who …”
She told him? “Yeah,” Jason answered. Beth didn’t need to go into all that again.
The phone rang. Jason got up and took the call. It was Connor.
“We found Bickford,” the sheriff said. “We’re still waiting on fingerprints, but we’re pretty sure it’s him. He’s dead. Drowned in the wash. Some people out on a trail ride found his body five miles downstream.” Jason winced. That couldn’t have been a lovely sight.
“Who is it?” Beth asked.
Jason covered the receiver. “Connor. Bickford’s dead.”
“Dead!” Anderson said.
Beth closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the sofa’s cushions. “That’s it then. It’s over.”
“Is there anything else, Sheriff?”
“No. We’re still waiting on New York to send his file. We won’t know until then who his associates were. Unfortunately, since it’s the weekend, I don’t expect to see it until Monday.”
Jason nodded, understanding the delay. “You’re probably right. He’s dead, and it’s not their case. Okay, thanks.” He hung up and turned back to Beth. It wasn’t over, and as soon as she thought about it, she’d know that too. But for now he’d let her relax. It would take a while for the person who had hired Bickford to find out he was dead and hire someone else. She was safe—for now.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
It must be difficult to manage the finances of someone who’s out of town so much,” Jason said to Anderson.
The three of them were sitting in the library, Ollie at Beth’s feet. He and Anderson sipped snifters of Gran Marnier, while Beth drank lemonade. She couldn’t imbibe while pretending to be Ellie, but she had flatly refused to down another glass of milk. Jason suppressed a smile as he remembered.
“Not so much,” Anderson said, smoothing his thinning brown hair. “I mean, it can be, if you don’t prepare for it properly, but that’s not the case with Palmer.”
“Sounds like he’s lucky to have such a good accountant,” Beth said.
Anderson looked slightly affronted. “I’m more than just his accountant. I’m more of a financial manager. He expects me to oversee all sorts of things for him.”
“I guess that shows how ignorant I am.” Beth soothed. “I thought all you did was pay his bills for him.”
“Well, I do pay the bills that the trust doesn’t cover,” he conceded with a condescending smile, “but that’s just a small part of it. There aren’t many of those. He lives very simply. Most of my work has to do with taxes and charitable donations and such. That can be very complicated.”
“No business related work, then?” Jason asked.
Anderson took a sip of his liqueur and shook his head. “No. Palmer never took an interest in business. Never had to, because of the trust, you know. He hardly spends any of his allowance; he gives most of it to the church.”
“Lucky church,” Jason said.
Anderson nodded. “He’s very devout—as you must know.” He looked at Beth. “Are you a churchgoer, Mrs. Pontifore?”
Beth smiled and shook her head. “No. Not so much. And call me Ellie, please.”
“All right. Ellie.” Anderson leaned forward in his chair. “Palmer is very concerned for you, and uh, your soul. He was very sorry he couldn’t come here himself, but the preparations for his mission are quite consuming. That’s why he sent me. I’m at your disposal. Whatever you
need. And he, uh, wants you to call him if you have any questions about, you know, Mr. Pontifore’s, or your sister’s situation. In the afterlife, I mean. He was very emphatic that I share his concern with you.” Anderson took and released a deep breath, as if he’d just discharged a difficult task.
Jason couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t want to be required to proselytize for someone else either.
Beth’s smile looked a little forced. “Thank you. And please let Palmer know how much I appreciate his interest.”
Jason suppressed a smile. We just won’t go into how much that really is.
“He must hold you in high regard to send you here like this,” she went on. “I’ve forgotten, how long have you worked for Palmer?” Beth asked.
“Several years now.” Anderson blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Goodness I’m tired. Jet lag, you know.” He set his empty snifter on the side table and rose. “I’ll be going off to bed now. Goodnight.” He bobbed his head to Beth, and left the room.
Jason waited as Anderson’s footsteps retreated down the hallway. “At last,” he said as he moved closer to Beth on the couch.
Beth glanced over her shoulder at the door. “Well, we can cross him off our list, not that he was ever really on it.”
Apparently she’d remembered the murder for hire angle. Jason raised a brow at her. “Based on what?”
She looked at him incredulously. “Are you serious? He’s way too much of a nebbish to even think about killing someone. Besides, where would someone like him meet a hit man? What did Connor say? ‘That dog won’t hunt?’”
“I have to agree. I think we should concentrate on Montenegro and the mine deal.” He gestured at the roll of mine maps on the shelf.
Beth frowned. “Eduardo seemed so genuinely … sympathetic, though.”
“He has the cartel connections to hire someone like Bickford,” he reminded her.
“You’ve got a point.”
“Tomorrow we’ll start calling the other investors and see how Montenegro felt about stalling the development.”
“It’s not too late. If any of them are on the west coast we could call them now,” she said.
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