“Everything looks in order,” Mervyn said, his face scrunched up with concentration.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I was the last person to access the file and the computer, and these logs are encrypted. No one can modify them.” Mervyn logged off and set the keyboard to one side. He leaned back and laced his fingers over his stomach, looking pleased. “Good. Everything’s safe. We can go back to the party now.”
Emma stared at him in disbelief. “Mervyn, I’m sorry, but I think the party’s over.”
“Over? But I haven’t given everyone my pep talk yet.”
“I don’t think anyone’s in the mood for a pep talk now,” Emma said. An apology would be more appropriate, after he had accused his employees of disloyalty and then fired an air rifle.
“But that was the whole purpose of throwing this party,” Mervyn protested. “Why do you think I bussed everyone here for the weekend? I’m a great boss, and Butterick Innovations is a great company to work for. Together, we can make great things happen.”
He seemed to be quoting from his pep talk already. Emma glanced at Owen for assistance.
“I’d advise against continuing the party,” Owen said with that quiet air of authority she’d come to expect—and sometimes appreciate—from him. “There’s still the matter of the air rifle. You discharged it in a room packed with people and with little regard to their safety. I’m going to confiscate the rifle, Mervyn, and you might be booked for negligent discharge of a firearm.”
Mervyn’s face turned gray. “But—but it’s just a BB gun.”
“And of course that will be included in my report.”
“Oh, crapola.” Mervyn’s hands shook. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? It won’t happen again.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Now, we’d better go downstairs.”
As they made their way down, Mervyn muttered to Emma, “Can’t you do something? He used to be your boyfriend, right? Talk to him. I’m sure you can get him to forget about any charges.”
Emma felt herself growing hot, and not just because of Mervyn’s presumptions. Mervyn’s voice was not exactly quiet, and she was sure Owen had heard every word of his plea. She was just as equally sure that she held no sway over the man who had been her boyfriend twelve years ago. She decided to ignore Mervyn.
Back in the foyer, Vera, who had missed the entire air rifle episode, launched herself at her son, grabbing his arm as if he had just dodged a bullet. “Oh, my poor baby, there you are!” She aimed a fierce glare at Owen. “What have you done to my innocent son?”
“Nothing, Mrs. Butterick. Just confirming that no intellectual property has been stolen and warning your son about the rashness of his behavior.”
Vera opened her mouth, ready to defend her son to the death, but fortunately Mervyn walked down the hallway to the entertainment room, and she, refusing to let go of his arm, had to go with him.
Shaking his head, Owen turned to Emma. “I’d forgotten about Mervyn’s mom. Still fussing after him like he’s a toddler, I see.”
“Yep.” A quick glance around the foyer confirmed that they were momentarily alone, so she took the chance to add, “About what Mervyn said coming downstairs…”
His eyebrows rose. “You’re asking me to go easy on him?”
“No, of course not! I’d never ask you such a thing. I know you don’t—” She twisted her hands. “I don’t want you to do anything for me.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.” It wasn’t true. She did want Owen to do something. She wanted him to talk to her like he used to, wanted him to stop treating her like a pariah. That kiss he had given her had been wonderful and heart-lifting, but if it made him avoid her like this, then she’d rather he hadn’t. But naturally she couldn’t tell him this, especially when he was in the middle of a call-out.
Owen didn’t say anything, just looked about him at the black-and-white marble tiled floor and the enormous chandelier hanging from above.
“I’m surprised Mervyn bought this place,” he said, his tone conversational.
The change in topic startled her, but she answered, “Why? He’s worth millions now. He can afford it.”
“Yes, but you do know who used to live here, don’t you?” He paused, and then when she shook her head, continued, “Katrina Heston. You can’t have forgotten her.”
Emma wrinkled her brow. Katrina Heston, former cheerleader and homecoming queen, had been in high school with them. “I remember. She used to have a thing for you, even though she was dating the quarterback. Did you visit her here?” She was surprised by the sudden pang of jealousy.
“I came to a couple of parties here. Before you and I started dating.”
“You never told me.”
“It wasn’t important.”
No, after they had got together, nothing else seemed important. Her heart squeezed, though she tried to ignore it.
“I heard she and Conrad Dupree got married,” she said. Conrad, the swaggering sports jock, had been the obvious choice for beauty queen Katrina.
“They divorced a couple of years ago. Then she had a car accident that put her in a wheelchair.”
“Oh, that’s awful. When did that happen?”
“About a year and a half ago, I think. I heard her parents were taking care of her after the accident, so she must have been living here with them.”
And now the house had been sold. Emma wondered if Mervyn knew who had lived here before. Just then, one of the other deputies approached them, clearly wanting Owen.
“Excuse me,” Owen said to her. “Looks like we can wrap this up pretty quickly.” With a final nod to her, Owen joined his colleague.
Emma retreated to the kitchen to check on the caterers. Liz was not very happy. The gunshot had frightened her and the servers, and they had huddled together in a storage room, terrified that a gunman might be on the loose, until Vera had come looking for them. By then, it was so late that Liz had let her assistants depart rather than pay them overtime, leaving her with a lot of cleaning up to do.
Emma rolled up her sleeves and set about helping Liz. She stood at the sink and washed piles of serving ware that Liz collected from the entertainment room. Eventually, the majority of it was done. Leaving Liz to pack up her trays and utensils, Emma returned to the entertainment room. The police had evidently departed, and with the party broken up, an air of dissipation lingered in the atmosphere.
To her surprise, not all the guests had abandoned the party. Outside, a sullen-looking Ivan puffed at a cigarette, while inside, a couple sat at the bar chatting desultorily to the bartender. Mervyn was slumped on a couch in a corner, looking glassy-eyed, his lemon shirt creased. Georgia sat next to him. She seemed in a glum mood, silently pushing at her cuticles, and Emma was reminded of the tense scene she had witnessed between the two. Perhaps the earlier argument was still affecting them.
Vera bustled in carrying a glass of water, which she held out to Mervyn together with a couple of pills. “Here, take these,” she commanded.
Of all the people here tonight, Vera seemed the least affected by the party, the air rifle incident, and the subsequent police visit. She looked filled with energy and purpose, her eyes bright and unclouded. Mervyn swallowed the pills without comment.
“What were those?” Georgia asked with a slight frown.
“Nothing, dear. Just something to help with his nerves.”
“There’s nothing wrong with his nerves.”
Vera’s lips pinched. “I’ll be the judge of that. It’s really no concern of yours.”
Scowling, Georgia sat upright. “Excuse me, but I am Mervyn’s girlfriend.”
“Perhaps, but I’m his mother, and I’ve been looking after him all his life.”
Mervyn groaned. “Can you quit it, please? I’ve got a pounding headache.”
Vera instantly pounced on him. “Oh, you poor thing. Why didn’t you say something? Here, let me get you to bed. Oh, dear. You’ve had such a tough night. I don’t
know how you put up with so much. Come on, hold onto your old Ma. I’ll look after you. Good thing I’m spending the night here. We both need our beds.”
Leaning on his mother, Mervyn limped out of the room without a backward glance at his girlfriend or Emma.
“Doesn’t the old bat ever give up?” Georgia muttered rhetorically. She caught Emma’s eye, lifted her head defiantly, and rose to her feet. The turmoil of the night had left shadows beneath her eyes, but instead of detracting from her looks they only made her appear more delicate and alluring. Georgia was one of those girls who just couldn’t help being beautiful, Emma thought without a trace of envy.
“Have you seen Todd?” she asked Emma.
Emma shook her head. “No. He was in here when the police were questioning us, but then I went upstairs with Mervyn and the deputy, and I haven’t seen him since. Maybe he’s gone to bed?”
“It’s not like Todd to turn in early.” Georgia frowned, then shook her head. “I suppose he went for one of his midnight walks. He likes doing that, says it clears his head or something. Well, I’d better hang around here for a while. Don’t want to go upstairs and interrupt mommy tucking in her precious boy.” With that she sauntered out of the entertainment room.
The shattered remains of the mirror ball still lay on the floor, a hazard to everyone. Emma was surprised no one had cleaned it up yet, but maybe no one thought it was their responsibility? Deciding to take matters into her own hands, she found a handheld vacuum cleaner in one of the closets and set about cleaning up the glass fragments. The shards had fallen far and wide, and more than ten minutes passed before Emma was satisfied she’d found them all. She emptied out the machine in the trash can in the kitchen, which was now deserted, Liz apparently gone for the night.
Now what, Emma wondered as she returned to the entertainment room. Should she go home? All the caterers had left, but the bartender was still here and the last remaining couple, so maybe she should stay a half hour more and make herself useful. She decided to do a tour of the deck and check that there were no dirty glasses or plates or any lost property.
Stepping outside, she found the night had grown chillier, and there was now a distinct nip in the air. There was no one on the deck; Ivan must have left or gone inside. Rubbing her arms, she paced about the deck. Someone had left a wineglass on a railing at the far end. As she walked over, a full view of the lake came into sight. Silvery moonlight danced on the water; a light breeze ruffled the surface. From here, she could make out Mervyn’s private jetty jutting out into the lake, with a small boat tied to one of the piers. That was one of the joys of living on the lake, she mused, having a jetty you could dive off or launch a boat from. A few yards away from the jetty, a half-submerged log bobbed up and down on the tranquil waters.
She picked up the forgotten wineglass, then looked out at the water once more, the motion of the log catching her attention. Wait a minute. That wasn’t a log. It looked more like…a body. She dropped the glass and took off running through the garden. Smooth lawn gave way to rough pebbles and then the solid wooden planks of the jetty.
She ran to the end. The body was floating face down just a few yards away, its red jacket darkened by the water.
Red jacket? Was it…No, it couldn’t be!
She searched wildly about, spotted a boat hook, and grabbed it. “Mervyn,” she gasped out, stretching out over the water. “Oh, God, Mervyn!”
An icy dread gripped her, heavy and suffocating. She swung the boat hook at the body and missed. Her arms ached, and the boat hook felt like it was made of lead. She fought her fear and reached out again. This time, the boat hook caught at the collar of the red jacket. Desperate and despairing, she hauled him in, and it was agonizingly slow. The body didn’t stir. Finally, after what felt like an eon, he was within her grasp. Gripping the shoulders of the sodden red jacket, she managed to turn him over.
“No,” she moaned. “No.”
Todd lolled in the water, his face as pale and lifeless as the moon shining down on him.
Chapter Three
Emma’s pants were sodden, and her shoes were squelchy with lake water. Someone had wrapped a blanket around her, though she barely felt its warmth. She was numb, inside and out, hunched on a couch together with the others in the entertainment room, while police milled around them, filling the air with busy officialdom.
Outside, powerful lights lit up the jetty and the lake shore, glaring and harsh after the moonlight. From here, she could see several figures clad in white plastic suits, looking like aliens as they went about their business of gathering evidence. Todd’s body lay out of sight, but the image of his still, pallid face was burned into her retinas. He’d been too heavy for her to lift from the water, so she’d run back to the house for help. When she and the bartender had hauled Todd out, she’d desperately attempted CPR, but it was no use. Todd was already beyond all medical help. A deep, clammy shiver worked its way down Emma’s spine. This wasn’t the first time she’d discovered a dead body, but it didn’t get any easier.
“I can’t believe it.” Mervyn gave a broken sob as he buried his face in his hands. Dressed in sweatpants and T-shirt, he sat slumped on the far side of the room, his mother by his side, wrapped up in a chintz dressing gown.
“You poor thing.” Vera stroked his rumpled hair, seeming more concerned about her son than the man who had perished in the water.
Georgia, sitting by herself in an armchair, seemed even more frozen with shock than Emma. She stared down at her lap where her hands twisted tortuously, her makeup smudged across her wan face where she had wiped away her initial tears.
In contrast, Ivan was all nervous twitching. His fingers drummed the armrest of his chair as he shifted position, his gaze darting about the room. “Hey, how about pouring us a drink?” he asked the bartender, who was sitting next to Emma. “I could do with a whiskey.”
Angus, a seasoned bartender, glanced anxiously at the policeman standing at the door.
“No alcohol,” the deputy said. “You can have water, if you like.”
Ivan scowled at the suggestion. “Damn cops,” he muttered under his breath.
Angus leaned toward Emma. “How long is this going to take?” he whispered. “I got another shift starting tomorrow.” He glanced at the clock above the bar. “Well, today.”
“I don’t know.” Emma shook her head. Why was Angus so eager to leave? After all, a man had just died.
Just then, Owen walked in accompanied by a woman in a navy blue skirt and matching jacket. When Emma had raised the alarm and someone had dialed 911, Owen had been the first policeman to arrive at the scene. She had led him down to the jetty where she and Angus had managed to haul out Todd’s body. Owen had briefly examined the body, then ordered everyone back to the house, where more police had arrived. She hadn’t seen him since; she guessed he was busy securing the site, doing whatever it was cops did at a crime scene.
“This is Detective Theresa Gambino,” Owen introduced the woman beside him. “She’ll be handling the investigation.” He stepped back, allowing the detective to take center stage.
“Evening, everyone. I won’t keep you long tonight. Just some brief questions, and then you can go, though we’ll need to question you again later.” With her no-nonsense haircut and plain clothes, Detective Gambino cut a sturdy and competent figure. Her black eyes zeroed in on Emma. “Ms. Cassidy? Deputy Fletcher tells me you discovered the body. Can you tell me what happened?”
Emma gulped and nodded. “S-sure. I was cleaning up some glasses on the deck” —she waved at the deck outside the sliding doors— “when I saw the—the body in the lake. I ran down to the water. At first, I thought—I thought it was Mervyn, but when I turned him over, I realized it was Todd.”
Detective Gambino was frowning. “Mervyn Butterick?” She glanced at Mervyn, then back at Emma. “Why did you think it was him?”
“Because he was wearing Mervyn’s red jacket.”
“I see.” Detective Gambin
o turned to Mervyn. “I understand you’re the owner of the house and the host of tonight’s party. Did you lend your jacket to Mr. Neumann?”
Mervyn was staring open-mouthed. He hadn’t seen Todd’s body yet. He and Vera had been upstairs, sleeping, and only woken up when the police arrived.
“Um, no, not s-specifically,” Mervyn stuttered. “But Todd was with me when I bought the jacket, and he kinda joked about borrowing it sometime. I guess he must’ve done that tonight when I took the jacket off.”
Detective Gambino nodded. “So you and Mr. Neumann were close friends?”
“Yes. He’s one of my best— ” Mervyn broke off and swallowed. “He was one of my best friends.”
Out of the corner of Emma’s eye a slight movement caught her attention. It was Georgia, clenching her fists so hard the fabric of her dress wrinkled. For a brief moment an expression of resentment darkened her eyes, then vanished. Why, wondered Emma. Had Georgia resented Mervyn spending time with Todd? It wasn’t uncommon, she supposed, a girlfriend objecting to her boyfriend’s buddy. Maybe it had irked Georgia that Mervyn had taken advice about clothing from his life coach and not his girlfriend, who was, after all, a stylish and beautiful woman.
“He was a brilliant life coach,” Mervyn continued. “Just brilliant. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have achieved everything I have. He was such a great guy. This—this is a terrible tragedy.”
A sudden snort from Ivan broke the mood. Ivan lifted his jaw toward Mervyn. “Come on, let’s be honest here. Todd wouldn’t have died if he hadn’t been so hammered. The guy was as drunk as a skunk. It’s no surprise he fell into the lake and drowned.”
Mervyn’s face suffused with red. “That—that is so…” He flapped his hands angrily. “Insensitive! For God’s sake, my friend is dead!”
Detective Gambino turned to Ivan. “So you knew the deceased well, Mr.…?”
“Macintosh. Ivan Macintosh. I’m the chief financial officer of Mervyn’s company, that’s how I met Todd.”
“I see.” The detective scanned the others in the room. “Can anyone else verify if Todd Neumann was under the influence of alcohol tonight?” She waited for an answer, looking like she had all the time in the world.
Murder Most Likely (an Emma Cassidy Mystery Book 3) Page 3