“He did have a few too many drinks.” This hoarse whisper came from Georgia, the first sound she’d made in ages. When Emma had broken the news to her, she had screamed in horror before going into a kind of stupor. Now, her huge blue eyes looked at each of them. “I tried to make him slow down, but he wouldn’t listen to me.” She pressed her knuckles to her mouth, her face crumpling.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Mervyn shuffled over to Georgia and tried to put his arm around her shoulders, but she remained hunched in her armchair, almost rejecting his offer of comfort. Perching himself awkwardly on the armrest, Mervyn looked at Detective Gambino. “I guess Todd did have a lot to drink tonight,” he said reluctantly. “But so did many of us. We had a lot to celebrate.”
“Stop trying to brush over the facts,” Ivan broke in harshly. “Todd was an alcoholic. Oh, sure, he was good at hiding it. Wouldn’t have been good for his business if word got out. I mean, who’s going to hire him to coach them when he can’t get a grip on his own weaknesses? But he was getting careless. Sooner or later, the truth would’ve come out. Now, the whole world’s going to know he drowned because he was drunk out of his skull.”
“I wouldn’t go around spreading those rumors, Mr. Macintosh,” Detective Gambino said smoothly. “We have yet to establish the cause of death.”
Ivan gawked at her. “But how else could he have drowned? Unless…it wasn’t an accident?” His expression altered. “Hang on a minute! You don’t think one of us could have murdered Todd?”
His booming voice echoed about the room. Murder, murder, murder… The chill inside Emma deepened.
“We’ll have to wait for the autopsy report,” the detective said. “In the meantime, can everyone tell me the last time they saw Mr. Neumann tonight. Starting with you, Mr. Macintosh.”
Scowling with suspicion, Ivan recalled seeing Todd when the police had arrived after the BB gun incident, but after that he wasn’t sure. Mervyn agreed he hadn’t seen Todd after he had gone to his office with Owen and Emma.
When it was Georgia’s turn, she pressed her fingers to her temples, frowning in concentration. “Oh, I’m trying so hard to remember everything. He was very rattled after Mervyn shot the mirror ball.” She shot a dark look at her boyfriend perched on the armrest. “He was concerned about you, Mervyn. He thought you were very rash. It upset him.”
Mervyn’s face fell. “I didn’t know.”
“Oh, pish-posh,” Vera declared, hands on her hips. “Stop trying to push the blame onto Mervyn.”
Detective Gambino cleared her throat. “Ms. Perreira,” she said to Georgia. “When last did you see Todd Neumann?”
“It—it must have been about a couple of hours ago, maybe eleven? We were out on the deck. Todd had a bottle of wine with him. I tried to talk him into giving me the bottle, but he refused. I got cross, so I came inside.” She gave a choking sob. “We—we had an argument, and that’s the last time I saw him alive. Oh God. If I’d only known!” Tears ran down her cheeks. “Why didn’t I stop him? Why?”
Mervyn tried to pat her shoulder, but with another sob, she jerked to her feet and skittered out of the room. After a glance at the police officers, Mervyn ran after her.
Georgia’s distress seemed to ring false with Emma. During the party, she hadn’t noticed any special warmth between Georgia and Todd. In fact, she had picked up on a few moments of tension between the two. d Georgia had seemed put out at Mervyn describing Todd as his close friend, giving Emma the impression that the girlfriend and the coach had been rivals for Mervyn’s attention. Had Georgia been jealous of Todd’s influence over Mervyn? Jealous enough to do something violent on the spur of the moment? She might be slender, but her toned physique suggested she was quite fit. Strong enough to hold down an inebriated man until he drowned.
“The nervous type.” Vera shook her head. “Thin ones always are.” She walked up to Detective Gambino and looked her straight in the eye. “We haven’t been formally introduced yet. I’m Vera Butterick, Mervyn’s mother, and after Owen here arrived the first time I didn’t see Todd again.” She gave Owen a disapproving glance. “And I’d like to know who called the police over such a trifling incident. Really, there was never any danger. I mean, it was just a BB gun, for heaven’s sakes.”
Perhaps wisely ignoring this commentary, the detective turned to Angus. “And I understand you were the bartender at tonight’s event. How much alcohol did you serve to Mr. Neumann?”
Angus turned sickly white and swallowed convulsively. “Uh, I made him several drinks, but I definitely did not give him that bottle of wine. He must have got that somewhere else.”
“What kind of drinks?”
“Whiskey and—and a couple of cocktails.” Angus looked around desperately, no doubt realizing his professionalism was being questioned, before pointing a finger at Emma. “She told me serve the Flaming Dr. Peppers! It was her. She made me.”
Emma blinked as all eyes swiveled toward her. “I did tell Angus to make the flaming cocktails,” she said steadily, trying to tamp down her redness without success. “But everyone wanted one, so I’m sure Todd couldn’t have had too many.” And besides, it was still Angus’s responsibility who he served alcohol to, but she didn’t point that out. Angus was anxious to stay out of trouble, so he was trying to deflect any blame off himself.
Detective Gambino questioned the last two partygoers, a young couple called Colin and Erica. They hadn’t known Todd well and had nothing useful to add. As they finished talking, Mervyn returned.
“I gave Georgia a sleeping pill and put her in bed,” he said to Gambino and Owen. “She was very upset; I doubt she would’ve been much use tonight.”
The detective frowned as though she objected to Mervyn taking Georgia out of the picture, but then she asked the room in general, “Did anyone get into an argument with Mr. Neumann tonight? Anyone see him arguing with someone?”
No one spoke for a few moments. Ivan stared down at his shoes.
“Everyone liked Todd,” Mervyn said with a catch in his voice. “He didn’t have an enemy in the world.”
His statement fell into a pool of silence as if they were in church.
Emma sat up. Every muscle in her body felt strained, and her sodden pants were beginning to chafe. She cleared her throat. “Actually, I did see Todd earlier tonight arguing with someone.”
Detective Gambino’s ears almost seemed to prick to attention. “Oh, yeah?”
“He was arguing with Ivan outside the house.” She braced herself.
Sure enough, Ivan swelled up with outrage. “You lying bitch!”
Until now, Owen had quietly stood by, taking no part in the interrogation, but now he stepped forward. “Quiet, Macintosh!” he growled. It was enough for Ivan to back down. Owen turned to Emma. “What were they arguing about?”
“I’m not sure,” she confessed, rubbing her aching forehead as she tried to recall the confrontation. It felt like it had happened days ago, not hours. “Ivan was angry with Todd for—for sticking his nose in his business, as he put it, and he threatened him to stay away or else.”
“That’s bulldust!” Ivan exploded, lunging at Emma.
Owen grabbed his arm and twisted him into a lock. “That’s enough. Control yourself, Macintosh, or I’ll cuff you.”
“Ow, let go of me,” Ivan whined.
“You going to behave yourself?”
“Okay, okay.”
Owen released him but stood guard over him, his shoulders braced. Puffing and red-faced, Ivan massaged his wrist.
“Well, Mr. Macintosh?” Detective Gambino said, one eyebrow raised. “What were you and Todd arguing about?”
“Okay, fine, we did have a minor disagreement, but it was over Todd’s drinking. I told him to stop before he made a fool of himself, and in return he tried to sell me one of his life coaching seminars, the idiot. I don’t believe in that mumbo-jumbo, so I told him where to stick it. I’d had a bit to drink myself, so I didn’t couch it too politely, but no way would
I have threatened him.” He aimed a dirty glare at Emma. “She must’ve heard wrong and put two and two together and come up with five.”
The detective glanced at Emma with a quizzical expression that made Emma groan inwardly.
“Well, I’m only telling you how it appeared to me,” Emma said defensively.
The detective gave a non committal grunt. Ivan’s eyes remained hostile.
Apparently, Detective Gambino seemed satisfied with Ivan’s explanation, as she said that everyone could now go home once they had left their contact details with the deputy standing at the door. Angus and the young couple instantly leaped to their feet and hurried for the exit. Mervyn went over to his mother. Gambino motioned Owen to one side, where they conferred in low tones.
Emma got to her feet only to find Ivan standing in front of her. His eyes were bloodshot, and veins bulged in his thick neck.
“What’s your game?” he snarled at her. “You trying to get me into trouble with the cops?”
“I only told the truth,” she replied, forcing herself not to flinch back.
“Huh.” He snorted. “I don’t like meddlers. You better stay out of my business. You got that?” With a final glare, he stomped off.
Emma pressed a hand to her stomach where a nauseous feeling roiled. Ivan’s parting words sounded eerily similar to the warning he’d given Todd. And just hours after that, Todd was dead. Had Ivan’s intimidation been merely bluff, or had he carried out his threat?
***
“Emma, wait up.”
Having reached her car, Emma turned to see Owen hurrying toward her with long strides. His brown eyes were filled with concern as he looked her over.
“Are you okay to drive yourself home?” he asked.
She had been okay, until now, when his question triggered a wave of fatigue that swept over her. Still, she battled against the weakness and forced a brief smile to her lips. “I’m okay.”
“You’re wet through.” He frowned, taking in her sodden pants now she’d left the blanket behind in Mervyn’s house. “And it’s cold.”
At two am on an autumn morning, it was indeed cold. “I’ll heat up in the car,” she said.
“Mervyn’s girlfriend should’ve lent you something dry to wear.”
“I don’t think I’d fit any of Georgia’s clothes, and anyway she was too upset.”
Owen was still frowning. “I’d drive you home myself, but Gambino needs me. We’re short-staffed at the moment, so I’m assisting her.” He took her car keys and opened the door of her humble Toyota for her.
Emma slid into the driver’s seat, grateful to be sitting, her legs beginning to feel like overcooked noodles. He handed the keys to her. “Thanks.” She managed to give him a weak smile. Despite the awful circumstances, she was glad to have him talking to her, showing his concern. It was an improvement on the non-communication of the previous weeks. Even arguing would’ve been an improvement.
“One last thing,” Owen said as she started the car. “When you spotted the body in the lake, why did you run straight down to the water? Why didn’t you call someone for help first?”
Emma gaped at him. What? So he wasn’t here because he was concerned about her; he’d only come to question her as part of the investigation. The warm feeling that had been gathering inside her vanished, and she felt colder than before.
“I don’t know,” she said stiffly. “I didn’t stand there weighing my options. I saw someone in the water, and I thought maybe I had a chance of helping him. Obviously, I was wrong.” With a hard tug, she slammed the car door, making Owen jump back. Grinding the gears, she wrestled with the stick shift, and then she finally took off, not looking back. All she wanted was to get home.
Chapter Four
Andrew Cassidy, Emma’s widowed father, shook his head in sorrow. “What a horrible thing to happen.” His gaze focused on Emma’s plate. “You’ve barely touched your pancakes, pumpkin. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.” Emma poked a fork at her stack. “Guess I’m not that hungry today.” She stifled a yawn. “And I’m tired, too.”
She can’t have had more than four hours of disjointed sleep. When she’d woken up, she’d told her father about the drowning death. Andrew had thought she’d want to cancel their usual Sunday brunch at Becky’s Diner, but she couldn’t sleep, and she was too restless to stay at home, so she’d insisted they come in anyway. The Greenville grapevine, as flourishing as always, had already distributed the news, and in the diner the usual talk of sports and weather was interspersed with speculation about the death.
“I heard he went for a midnight skinny dip. Dang foolish thing to do in this weather.”
“Well, he’s from San Francisco. Those city folk do all sorts of crazy things.”
“She found the body, y’know.” This accompanied by a thumb jerked in Emma’s direction.
“Someone told me the poor man was Mervyn Butterick’s boyfriend.”
“No, he wasn’t. Mervyn has a girlfriend. A supermodel.”
“Mervyn has a girlfriend? Well, ain’t that something!”
“He’s a billionaire, you know. Owns half the internet.”
Andrew shook his head as some of the more outlandish claims swirled around their booth. “It always amazes me what some people will make up in lieu of hard facts.” He chewed on his mouthful of scrambled eggs for a moment. “I’m sorry about Mervyn’s friend. Was he married? Did he have any family?”
“I have no idea. I guess Mervyn will know. They were very close.”
“Sad. Good friends are hard to come by.”
So true, thought Emma. She herself was missing a friend she’d recently made. Stacey Shulman was away for a few days visiting family in Pennsylvania, whom she hadn’t seen in years.
“As I recall, Mervyn didn’t have too many friends in high school.” Andrew stroked his chin, reminiscing. Now a school counselor, he had previously taught history at South Lake High School for many years. Attending the same school where her dad was a teacher had been surprisingly easy for Emma, mainly because her father had been well-liked by his students, and she had been fairly popular in her class, too. “I remember often seeing him with Archer Janick. They were both highly intelligent and…different from most other students, so it wasn’t surprising they were friends.”
“They’re not friends anymore,” Emma said and proceeded to tell him about Archer gate-crashing the party and accusing Mervyn of cheating him out of millions.
“Oh, no. That doesn’t sound good.” Andrew adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses. “Maybe I should have a word with Archer. This can’t be very healthy for him.”
“Dad, you’re not his counselor, and Archer’s not in high school anymore.”
“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong. Archer is back at South Lake High. He looks after all our IT. Started this semester. I’ve seen him working on the computers in the library.”
“Really?” Emma was startled. “He used to work in Silicon Valley, just like Mervyn, and now he’s doing maintenance work on high school computers? That must be a blow for him.”
No wonder Archer had been so furious last night. He’d lost employment, riches, and a promising career. But was there something more that had angered Archer? Maybe he’d been more hurt at the loss of his friendship with Mervyn. And seeing Mervyn with Todd, his new best friend, must have been salt in the wound. Could that have driven Archer to do something reckless, like pushing a drunk Todd—the rival who had supplanted him—into the lake? He might have done it in a fit of anger, not meaning actual harm, and then run off without realizing that Todd was drowning.
“Emma?”
She came out of her uncomfortable musings to see her father studying her with a slightly worried air.
“Uh, sorry, Just drifted off there.” She dug into her pancakes, trying to push her troubling thoughts away. In the past year she had become involved in two murder cases; she didn’t want to be dragged into another. The police would sort out the matter.
It might not be murder. Todd could very well have died by accident. Tragic, but not mysterious.
Andrew looked up over her shoulder, and his worry lines dissolved as he sat up straighter. “I told Janet we’d be here. I hope you don’t mind.”
Emma barely had time to say, “Of course not,” before Janet Ramos reached their table.
“Hello!” Tiny silver bells dangling from her earlobes glinted in the sunlight as Janet smiled at them.
Andrew beckoned her to sit next to him, his face softening in welcome. When Emma’s mom had died more than two years ago, she’d feared her father would sink into a bottomless pit of depression. For a while he had struggled, but gradually he’d recovered and regained his zest for life. Emma was glad he had found someone as sweet and gentle as Janet Ramos, who was also a teacher at South Lake High. The only uncomfortable aspect was that Emma was still staying at her dad’s house, since the collapse of her business and the treachery of her business partner had wiped out all her savings. She suspected her presence put the brakes on the slowly developing relationship between her dad and Janet—not that they had ever breathed a word to her, and Janet was always unfailingly nice to her.
“Oh, Emma, I heard what happened last night.” Janet grimaced in sympathy as she sat down. “That poor man.”
Emma nodded. “Dad and I were just discussing it.” She didn’t feel like rehashing it again, and fortunately Becky stopped by to pour coffee for Janet. The diner was full, and Becky was short-staffed, so she didn’t pause for a chat like she usually did.
When she was gone, Janet took a sip of coffee and leaned her elbows on the table. “I’m glad I caught you this morning,” she said to Emma. “I wanted to ask if you could lend a hand with the decorations some time. We’re so far behind it’s not funny. I can’t believe the anniversary is less than a week away.”
South Lake High School was celebrating its seventy-fifth anniversary this coming weekend, and the event was turning out to be a big deal in Greenville. Friday and Saturday were to be open days at the high school, where the general public could come in and wander around the school inspecting various displays of past and present achievements. On Friday a commemorative photo would be taken of all past alumni gathered together to form the numerals seven and five, followed by a football game that promised to be a full house. Rounding off the weekend was the highlight of the celebrations, a grand anniversary dinner on Saturday night.
Murder Most Likely (an Emma Cassidy Mystery Book 3) Page 4