A Deadly Row

by Casey Mayes

  “What did the note say?” he asked.

  “It told her to spend it on something that would bring her some happiness.”

  “Then that’s what you should do,” Uncle Thomas said.

  “If she couldn’t bring herself to do it, why should I?”

  “Savannah, I don’t have to tell you what a complicated woman your mother was. I’m sure she had her reasons. If you’re not comfortable spending it, maybe you could donate it to your favorite charity.”

  “Maybe. I honestly don’t have a clue what I’m going to do with it.”

  “Then put it in the hotel safe until you do,” he said. “You can’t just leave that kind of money lying around.”

  “You’re right about that. I’m sorry I called you so late.”

  “No, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway.” He paused, then asked, “Did J.B. say anything else?”

  “That’s strange. I always heard everyone refer to him as Jeffrey,” I said. “And yet the note was signed J.B.”

  “My brother always was an odd bird. Sometimes he went by his first name, and sometimes he would only answer to his middle name, but most of the time, among the family, he was just plain J.B.” Uncle Thomas stifled a yawn, and then he said, “I’m going to be up in a few hours, so I should probably try to get a little rest. Thanks for calling me back.”

  On an impulse, I asked him, “Uncle Thomas, do you want the money?”

  He seemed shocked by the question. “Of course not. It’s not mine.”

  “It doesn’t belong to me, either,” I said.

  “According to your mother it does. You inherited everything she had when she and your father died, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Then that money, and any problem she had with it, is yours now.”

  “Gee, thanks for the support,” I said with a laugh.

  “If your worst problem today is figuring out what to do with ten grand, I wouldn’t mind trading with you. Good night.”

  After we hung up, I called the front desk and was surprised to hear Garrett answer. “Don’t you ever go home?”

  “Tonight I’ve been catching up on paperwork. How may I assist you?”

  “I’ve got some cash I need you to keep for me in your safe.”

  “I’ll send someone right up,” he said.

  “I hate to ask, but could you come here yourself? It’s not that I don’t trust your employees, but if it’s not too much trouble, I’d rather deal directly with you.”

  “Say no more. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

  He was as good as his word, and within ninety seconds, there was a discreet tap at my door.

  I asked him to identify himself, and after he did, I opened the door for him. “Thanks for doing this.”

  “It’s my pleasure. You have some cash you wish to keep with us? There’s a safe in your suite, you know.”

  I’d considered the idea, but then I’d rejected it. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust it. I would just feel better having it out of easy reach, in case I got tempted before I figured out what I was going to do with it.

  “I’d rather you take it,” I said.

  He nodded, and I handed him the stack. Garrett counted out the bills, wrote me a receipt, and then put the cash in an attaché he’d brought with him.

  “You have access to this around the clock,” he said. “Is there anything else you need?”

  “Not tonight.”

  “Then I’ll bid you a good evening,” he said.

  After he was gone, I felt better not having the cash with me. There was something about my mother’s note, and her reluctance to spend the money, that made me glad I didn’t have it in my hands.

  I was going to have to tell Zach, though.

  But not tonight.

  He was still working, and I was so exhausted, I could barely keep my eyes open.

  Tomorrow would be soon enough to tell Zach what I’d found. Knowing my husband, I was certain his instincts would help guide me, but ultimately, the decisions were mine to make.

  I WOKE UP TO A NOISE IN THE OTHER ROOM. MY FIRST INstinct was that it was Zach, but the bed beside me was empty. I doubted it was the cleaning crew; they never came in unless they had my verbal approval.

  I looked frantically around the room for some kind of weapon, but the closest thing I could find was a table lamp. I quietly unplugged it, pulled off the shade, and opened the bedroom door.

  There was no one there, but then I heard someone moving around in the bathroom down the hall. It was a large suite, and Zach and I had just used the bathroom that was connected to the master bedroom.

  I should have called the front desk—I realized that later—but at the moment, I was experiencing a surge in adrenaline. I crept up to the door, and then shouted, “I’ve called the police. Stay right where you are.”

  Against my orders, the door opened, and I saw Zach peek out. I hadn’t even realized that I’d raised the lamp in the air and pulled it back, ready to strike.

  “Thanks, but the light’s fine in here,” he said as he pointed to the lamp in my hands, still poised to strike. His hair was wet, and he was wearing one of the hotel’s luxury robes.

  “You nit. Why didn’t you use the master bath?”

  “I didn’t want to wake you, if you can believe that.” He gestured to the lamp, which was now on the table. “Did you really call the police?”

  “No, I didn’t,” I admitted. “But I was going to.”

  “Savannah, if you thought there was a prowler in here, you should have locked yourself in the bedroom and called the cops, or at least hotel security.”

  “I panicked, okay?”

  “Fine, but learn from it. If it happens again, don’t try to handle it yourself.”

  “You would have,” I said a little petulantly. “I don’t always need a big, strong man around to protect me.”

  “In the first place, I was a cop for a lot of years. In the second place, I’m armed. And in the third place, if I weren’t either one of those things, I would have done the exact same thing.”

  “As I did?” I asked, hopefully.

  “No, that was just nuts. I would have stayed in the bedroom and called someone for backup.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  He smiled broadly at me. “Well, shame on you, then.”

  “When did you get in?” I asked my husband as I followed him into the master bedroom.

  “Ten minutes ago.”

  “Did you get any sleep at all last night?”

  “There’s a great couch in Davis’s office,” he said with a grin as he got dressed. “I crashed there for about three hours.”

  “That’s not much sleep.”

  “I’ve gotten less in the past when I was working on a case, and we both know it.” He slipped on his shoes, completing his outfit. “I’m starving. Any chance you can have breakfast with me?”

  “Sure. Let me make a phone call first.”

  “Hang on a second. You’re meeting Lorna downstairs, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. “I was, but I can cancel it. I’d much rather eat with you.”

  “You canceled yesterday, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t exactly in concrete.”

  He shook his head. “I won’t ask you to do it on my account. Tell you what. Why don’t I order a huge breakfast from room service, and you can keep me company. I want to hear about your day yesterday. Do we have time?”

  I looked at the clock and saw that I had forty minutes before I was due downstairs. “We should be fine.”

  He grinned. “Then I’ll place my order.”

  After he got off the phone, I asked, “You did hear that I wasn’t eating with you, right?”

  “I heard, but if I know you, you’ll graze anyway, and I wanted to be sure I’d have enough to eat.”

  We walked out into the living room and took our usual seats by the windows. The city was overcast today, and rain tapped at the windows. It wasn’t a perf
ect postcard filled with sunshine, but it was still beautiful. There were days when I enjoyed a good gloomy overcast sky, and today was going to be one of them.

  “How’s Thomas?” Zach asked.

  “Confusing,” I said.

  “That’s an interesting answer. What happened?”

  “He gave me a box from my mother that he’s been holding onto since she died.”

  “Why’s he giving it to you now?” Zach asked, the investigator’s stare in his eyes.

  “He was supposed to wait longer, but I think something shook him up, and he wanted to get rid of it.”

  “Did you look inside yet?”

  “I checked it last night. There were some photographs, some old love letters from my dad, and a key to a safety deposit box. That’s not all. There was a note with it, too.”

  I got the box from the end table, opened it, and handed him the note from my mother.

  The second he finished reading it, he stood and said, “What’s Lorna’s phone number?”

  “Why?”

  “I’m canceling your breakfast and we’re driving to Hickory.”

  “There’s no need to.”

  “Savannah, I don’t know how you even slept after reading that note. What’s inside the box? Why didn’t Tom tell you about it sooner? It raises a lot of questions, doesn’t it?”

  “Sit down,” I said. “I’ve got the contents of the safety deposit box, too.”

  “You didn’t mention that your uncle gave that to you, as well.”

  “I didn’t know it the last time we talked. He had to clean the safety deposit box out, but all he found was another box. Uncle Thomas hid it in the backseat of the car while I was there yesterday. He wanted me to have it, but I don’t think he knew how to tell me.”

  “So? Don’t keep me in suspense. What was this great secret your mother was keeping from the world?”

  “There was ten thousand dollars in the box, all in hundreds, and a note from my uncle.”

  “Why would Tom give your mother that kind of money?”

  “Not that uncle. The other one.”

  “Jeffrey? I thought he was lost forever.”

  “Evidently he contacted my mother, and he wrote her a note along with the cash. This is it.”

  I handed him the second note.

  After he read it, he said, “No wonder you were jumpy when you heard me in the bathroom. Having ten grand in your room will make you paranoid if anything will.”

  “It’s not here. I put it in the hotel’s main safe downstairs as soon as I knew what I had.”

  “That’s smart thinking,” he said. Zach tapped the second note. “That answers at least some of my questions.”

  “I don’t see how. Why didn’t my mother spend the money? Why did she leave it to me? And why did she ask for my forgiveness?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Zach said as there was a knock on the door.

  After the bellman identified himself, Zach let him in. He directed that the cart be set up by the window, and as soon as the worker was gone, he started lifting lids.

  “This looks great. You can have a bite or two, but most of it is mine.”

  I moved between him and his food, a dangerous maneuver even when my husband wasn’t starving. “You don’t get a bite until you explain what you just meant.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked as he looked at the food.

  “You said it answered questions, but all I can see are more things I don’t understand.”

  He held up his index finger. “Think about it, Savannah. Your mother didn’t forgive her brother. She didn’t even get back in contact with him, and she felt bad about cutting you off from your family.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “The money was still there, so she didn’t forgive him. If she had, there was no way Astrid wouldn’t spend it. Your mom knew how you felt about your Uncle Thomas. Do you honestly think she didn’t agonize over keeping Jeffrey out of your life? She had to be really conflicted by all of it, and lastly, she dumped it all in your lap.”

  “She didn’t want me to contact J.B., did she?”

  Zach smiled. “You noticed that the envelope with a return address wasn’t with the letter, didn’t you? I’ll make a detective out of you yet.” His stomach grumbled as he looked at the food. “Can I eat now?”

  “Go on. Sorry, I didn’t mean to get in your way.”

  “Feel free to join me,” he said as he dug in. I was tempted; it looked awfully good, but if I ate a big meal now, I would never be able to have breakfast again in fifteen minutes with Lorna.

  “Maybe I’ll have one cinnamon stick,” I said, taking one from his plate and dunking it in maple syrup.

  “They’re great, aren’t they?”

  After I ate one, I was debating about grabbing another when I asked Zach, “What do you think I should do?”

  “I definitely think you should stop eating those cinnamon sticks. You wouldn’t want to spoil your appetite.”

  “You saw me eyeing them?”

  “Hey, I’m a trained detective. Not much gets past me.”

  “Well, I wasn’t talking about the food,” I said. “I mean the money.”

  “Beats me,” he said after a moment’s thought.

  “You’re a lot of help.”

  “This has to be your decision. You can’t really contact your uncle, since you still don’t know where he is. Unless Tom knows. Have you asked him?”

  “He denies having any contact with his brother since the day he walked out.”

  “Could he be lying?”

  I was surprised to hear my husband ask that about Uncle Thomas. “Why would he possibly do that?”

  “Think about it. If he was trying to protect you, I can see it, can’t you? After all, those boxes have been in his hands for a while, but you’re just getting them now, aren’t you?”

  “I’m sure he had his reasons.”

  “Okay, let’s say he has no more idea than you do about how to find Jeffrey. That means you couldn’t return the money, even if you wanted to. The way I see it, you have three options.”

  “Go on, I’m listening.”

  “You can keep it, spend it, or give it away. If you choose the last option, I’d be more than willing to take it off your hands.”

  I grinned at him. “Thanks for that generous offer.”

  “Hey, you know me. I’m all heart.” Zach glanced at his watch. “I’m not trying to get rid of you, but aren’t you going to be late for your breakfast appointment?”

  “I’ve got another minute. I didn’t mean to take up all of our time together this morning. Have you made any more progress on the case?”

  He finished another bite. “Not ready to talk about it yet,” he said, and then polished off the last cinnamon stick. At least he’d removed the temptation from me. “Maybe by lunch.”

  I looked at the ruins of what was left of his breakfast. “Seriously? Do you honestly think you’re going to be able to eat again today?”

  “Hey, thinking’s hard work. You know that better than most folks do.”

  It was true. Though making puzzles didn’t seem like hard work, creating them often left me tired and hungry, and not necessarily in that order.

  “Lunch it is. Where would you like to go?”

  “Give me a call, and we’ll see what we can work out. In the meantime, you’d better scat.”

  “I’m going,” I said as I kissed him, and then smacked my lips. “Um, maple syrup.”

  “No extra charge,” he said with a grin.

  I left him, and headed down the elevator. By the time I arrived at the lobby, I was feeling good about my life.

  And then a woman moved directly in front of me as I stepped off, staring at me like she wanted to kill me.

  Chapter 15

  “YOU’RE SAVANNAH STONE,” SHE SAID. THERE WAS NO question in her inflection.

  “Guilty as charged,” I said. “Is there something I can help you with?” I was
surreptitiously looking around the lobby, trying to spot Garrett or one of his security guards. I knew I probably should have denied who I really was, but she’d caught me with my guard down.

  “You can tell your husband to find out who killed my brother,” she said. The woman was about my age, but she’d done nothing to make herself anything other than severe, both in clothing and expression. She was bone-thin, as if she had lost all interest in eating, and her graying blonde hair looked dry and brittle, like withered hay. Almost as an afterthought, she added, “Don’t trouble yourself finding security. I’ve said what I needed to say, and I never had any intention of harming you.”

  She started to leave, but I grabbed her arm before she could get away. “Hang on a second.”

  She started to pull away, but I wasn’t about to let go yet. “I’m finished here. I said what needed to be said.”

  “That’s all well and good, but I haven’t had a chance to talk yet. Now, why don’t we try this again?”

  She looked perplexed as I released her arm, and then I held out my hand. “My name’s Savannah Stone. And you are?”

  Almost without conscious effort, she took my hand as she said, “I’m Julia Tristan.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Julia. Let me start by saying that I’m sorry for your loss.”

  She looked at me a moment, and then the poor woman started to cry. We were getting the attention of some of the staff now, as well as a few of the hotel’s guests.

  I didn’t care. I put my arms around her, and then let Julia cry herself out. In three minutes, she pulled away from me, wiping her cheeks and eyes with an old linen handkerchief.

  “Feel better?” I asked her.

  “Much. Thank you. You’re the first person I’ve spoken with since Hank was murdered who actually seems to care.”

  “That’s because you haven’t met my husband yet. He’s the reason I know so much about your brother. Zach tries to get to know the subjects of his investigation.” I’d almost said “victims,” but I’d caught myself just in time. I didn’t want to be responsible for another crying jag.

  “If he’s anything like you, I believe you. Please, tell him that I’m counting on his help.”

  “Is there anything else you’d like me to pass on to him?”