“Wow, I hadn’t even thought about the fact that the checks were made out to my uncle personally.”
“Yeah. If you want my opinion, this guy Dwayne’s been the one takin’ your uncle for a ride and somehow wirin’ money from an account he likely opened maybe via the Internet. Still checking on all that, though. Anyway, I think this guy was pretending to be Lou on the phone when he talked to these folks, but it looks like he wasn’t as careful as he thought, and a couple of times he accidentally slipped his real name into the conversation. He probably got Lou’s social security number and private information and opened the checking account I’m still tryin’ to track for you, too. It ain’t hard to get people’s private info, and that guy was probably pretty tight with Lou, makin’ it easy for him. Also ain’t too hard to sign the checks and contracts in Lou’s name. Maybe the guy been planning on making a run for it with the dough. Whether or not he killed your uncle . . . I don’t know. Maybe he put Bean up to it and knew Bean wouldn’t do too well taking the fall. You got me.” Michaela didn’t say anything. “You okay, Mick?”
“I guess. Thanks, Joey. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
Michaela hung up the phone, stunned. It took her a minute to decide how to tell Detective Davis, but she had to call him now and tell him what she’d learned— of course, keeping Joe’s name out of it. To her dismay, she couldn’t reach Davis and instead left him a message to call her back.
Dwayne, of all people? Why? But she didn’t have time to think about it as Camden stormed into the house. She walked up to Michaela and waved a file folder in her face. “You were right. Okay? I give in. You were freaking right— again!”
“Whoa. Wait. What the hell is going on, Camden? What are you talking about?”
“Kevin Tanner. Look at this. Look at what I found on his desk.” She tossed the file down onto the counter.
Michaela picked it up and thumbed through it. She had to sit down again. It was a set of plans. Her uncle’s name written across the top: LOU BANCROFT. Flipping through it, she saw that Tanner had detailed every dealing, every phone call, all conversations with her uncle, and then all conversations and correspondence with anyone he was working with in trying to take over Uncle Lou’s property. He included dates, too. The most disturbing date in the file was the day that her uncle was killed: four days earlier. Her uncle’s name was written next to the date with a red line drawn through it. Below that was scrawled, Deal is closed. Right below that note was another that read, Call Cynthia Bancroft to see about negotiations.
Michaela’s stomach twisted as she found sketches and drawings with plans as to what was to be done with the property. It included an eighteen-hole golf course, along with a spa and boutique hotel resort. She couldn’t believe any of this. “Oh my God.”
“You were right, and I feel like such an ass. The guy totally used me, and the worst part is, he plans to knock you off your property and spread his corporate crap everywhere. He bought that dairy farm with the intention of taking over this entire area.”
Michaela put an arm around Camden, who had changed her hair color yet again— now it was chocolate brown. “I have to ask you something.”
“What?” Camden looked at her, her lip quivering.
“I overheard a conversation you had the other night with Kevin about him being a ‘killer,’ and how easy it would be for him to take over the land since whoever it was you two were talking about was now gone.”
Camden shrunk back from her. “Wait a minute, you don’t think we were talking about Lou?”
“I hope not. But try and look at it from my perspective.”
Camden sighed. “When I referred to a piece of property Kevin had his eye on I was talking about a chunk of land owned by a competitor of his. Some guy who was just arrested for embezzling and making illegal real estate agreements. Anyway, both Kevin and this man bid on the same property recently, and Kevin lost. I was telling him that it would be easier to acquire that property now. I’m such a jerk for falling for that moron!”
“But, I also heard you tell Kevin that he didn’t have to worry about being a suspect.”
“Kevin was the one who squealed on the guy. He was trying to involve Kevin in his illegal deals. He wouldn’t do it, but that doesn’t make him a nice guy. He’s still a bastard.”
“You don’t think Kevin could have murdered my uncle since he wanted his property so badly? These plans indicate he had motive.”
Camden laughed. “The guy is afraid of his shadow. He’s an ass and made a fool out of me . . . but no, I don’t think he killed Lou. I think he sees an opportunity now to try and go after Cynthia, though.”
Michaela frowned. “I’m sorry I listened in on your phone conversation and that I ever doubted you.”
“Yeah well, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, and now we have the guy I was supposed to be in love with and vice versa trying to take over everyone’s land.”
“We’ll figure it out.” The timer went off on the oven. She took out the tart.
“Thanks for being a good friend.”
“You, too.”
“Listen, I need to go back over to Kevin’s and get some of my stuff. I’m also going to tell him that we’re onto him, and he doesn’t have a prayer of getting Lou’s land or yours!”
“Can’t it wait?”
“No. I don’t want anything left there.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Camden shook her head. ‘No, hon. You look tired.”
“But what if he tries to hurt you?”
Camden smiled. “You don’t know me as well as I thought you did. Tanner should be afraid I might hurt him.”
Before Michaela could further protest her phone rang again. Davis was on the other end. She explained what she’d discovered about the breeding scheme, including what she’d found at the dairy farm— the same Peter Pan book that Bean had been reading right before he supposedly offed himself.
“How did you get this information about Mr. Yamiguchi?” Davis asked warily.
“I can’t tell you that. But trust me, it’s the truth. Will you at least look into it?”
“All right.”
“I think that you should also know I suspect that my uncle’s wife is pregnant, and . . . well, I don’t think he was able to father children.”
“Why do you think she’s pregnant?”
“I saw a test in her wastebasket.” She knew how that sounded, but it was the truth and Davis needed to know. “I think that there’s more to my uncle’s murder and Bean’s suicide.”
“You’re a regular Miss Marple. Younger and uh, more attractive, but you certainly have done your share of detecting over the last few days, haven’t you?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“Maybe you should join the force. I have to tell you that I’m not pleased about your detecting. Murder is serious business. I don’t want you getting hurt and I think I can do my job without you putting yourself in danger.”
“I’m not in any danger.”
She heard him sigh on the other end of the phone. “I have to tell you that you’re making my job more difficult.”
“Don’t mean to, but I thought you should know all this.”
“Thank you for the information.”
“That’s it? ‘Thank you for the information?’ ” Michaela started pacing her kitchen floor.
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to go and question Cynthia Bancroft. I don’t know, maybe ask her if she killed my uncle or if her lover did. I also want you to see what was going on at my uncle’s ranch with the AI program. Also, there’s a big-time developer who wanted to buy my uncle out. Kevin Tanner. Have you talked to that creep?”
“You have been busy.”
Was he mocking her? Ooh, this guy knew how to get under her skin! “Obviously busier than you. You just want to sew this thing up, and I hate to tell you, Detective, I don’t think it’s as simple as it looks.”
“Why don’t you let me and my people decide that? I will look into everything you’re telling me. I’m not discounting anything you’ve said. It’s my job to try and take this type of information and sort through it. See where it all might fit. I am not putting you on the back burner. I promise.”
“I sure hope not.”
“I also have some news for you. About fingerprints on your pitchfork.”
Michaela calmed herself. She wanted to hear this. “You do?”
“Yes. It seems a Ms. Kirsten Redmond’s prints showed up along with yours.”
“Kirsten?”
“Yes.”
“Well, have you asked her about it?”
“I plan to. I can’t arrest her on anything. Not yet, anyway.”
“Not even for harassment?”
“She may have an explanation.”
“What kind of explanation?”
“We’ll have to wait and see. I haven’t reached her yet, but I will keep trying until I do. And, I’ll see what I can find out about Mr. Yamiguchi, as well as Mrs. Bancroft.”
“Thanks,” Michaela replied and hung up the phone.
Damn! Just when she thought she might have it all figured out, Davis sideswiped her with the news about Kirsten. None of it made any sense to her. None of it at all.
TWENTY-SEVEN
AFTER PERFORMING HER MORNING RITUALS, Michaela got ready for Uncle Lou’s funeral and put on a simple black dress. After today, she’d likely burn it. The stupid dress would hold too much pain. Strange thing to think about, but it was a reminder, and reminders carried plenty of weight with them.
She slipped into a pair of classic black pumps. Her hands shook slightly as she tried to apply a little makeup. She pulled her hair back into a sleek, low ponytail and tied it up into a chignon. Today would be rough.
Ethan had offered to give her a ride, but she’d already planned on going to the service with her mom and dad. Camden didn’t feel right about going with her family. “I’ll be there,” she said. “This day needs to be about your family and your uncle. I’m always running late, as you know, and I don’t want to hold you back or be a pain. Not today anyway.” She smiled, and Michaela was grateful that her friend knew how to act when the occasion called for it.
Michaela’s parents were waiting out front when she drove up to get them. Good. She wanted to get through this day as quickly as possible. Their mood was solemn. She smiled at her mom, who looked as if she’d already been crying.
“Hi,” her dad said. “You doing okay?”
She nodded her lie. “How about you?”
“Oh, you know. It isn’t easy.”
She believed there was a double entendre in his words. She knew that once they got past this, she would have to help her dad through what she figured would in some ways be more difficult for him to recover from than losing his brother. His addiction had been shrouded in secrets and lies. It was his vice, and allowing it to die and be buried would be something that he couldn’t accomplish in a day. Every day of his life, her dad would have to bury his gambling addiction. Michaela was determined to help him through it.
They shared small talk on the way to the funeral home, and her mom went over the day’s schedule. After the services there would be the gathering at her parents’ place.
A handful of people had already arrived at the funeral home. The director seated the family up front and off to the left, where they could look out and see others inside the home, and the guests could view them. It was almost like a separate room, but still open.
Her dad grabbed her hand and squeezed. She had the feeling he needed her more today than she needed him, and that was okay. Her mom took tissues from her purse and handed a couple to Michaela. She whispered, “Just in case.”
Soon Cynthia came in, escorted by Dwayne. Sam waddled in behind them. Dwayne nodded toward them. Cynthia offered a weak smile. Then she looked right at Michaela, and her eyes, filled with anger, bore straight into her. Davis must’ve talked to her, because Michaela had never seen that look before. And, Cynthia had to have put two and two together. How? She wasn’t sure, but that could be the only explanation as to why Cyn was looking at her that way. Interesting that she was on Dwayne’s arm . . .
Oh, God. It struck Michaela like a horse kick in the face. Dwayne and Cynthia! Maybe he was her lover and he was the father of her baby and together they’d killed her uncle! But Dwayne had been in Vegas that morning. Still, Cynthia wasn’t. Could she have taken Uncle Lou out before going off to the gym? And . . . oh, wow. Maybe Joey was right. Cyn had asked Michaela to look into the breeding scheme. Could it be to cover her own tracks? She didn’t have time to let her mind run away with her. The room was filling up and she saw the pastor head toward the pulpit.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught another familiar face: Davis. He gave her a slight wave. She nodded and tried to smile in spite of everything. Why was he there? Out of respect? Doubtful. She’d heard somewhere before that killers often showed up at the funerals of their victims. Yes. That had to be why he was there. Watching people. Seeing their reactions. That meant he’d taken seriously what she’d told him the night before. Cynthia’s anger toward her proved that. He wasn’t blowing her off like she’d feared. Good man, she thought.
With her parents on either side of her, she almost felt like a child again. And on this surreal day that security flooded through her, as her six-year-old self returned momentarily, and she reveled in the comfort.
Once the pastor took the pulpit all was calm, actually peaceful. Michaela listened to his words of faith and an eternal afterlife. The scent from the roses covering the casket wafted throughout the room. She’d been raised Catholic, so she understood the meaning of the pastor’s words. Lou had not been much of a churchgoer, but she knew that when he did attend, it was at the Presbyterian Church. She noticed that there were far less rituals than in the church she was accustomed to. The pastor spoke freely of Lou’s love for his animals, his wife, and his family. His wife. Traitor! Her mind conjured up worse words, but she pushed them aside, as they felt blasphemous, considering. When the pastor ended with an invitation to accept Christ, he asked if anyone wanted to share a story or talk about Lou.
Ethan approached the pulpit first. With tears running down his face he said, “Lou Bancroft was the only father I ever really knew. He was my friend and an excellent man. I will miss him dearly as I know you all will, too.” He started to choke on his words. After a pause, Ethan went on to tell a funny story about when he was a kid and Lou thought the best way to teach him to ride was to put him on an ornery pony that enjoyed bucking him off regularly. “Lou would tell me that I’d better get back up on that pony and ride him, or I’d never learn. So, I’d get back on him, and to this day I think it was the best thing anyone ever taught me. I learned to persist. Granted, Lou did give me a hard hat, so I wouldn’t bash my head in.” Quiet laughter sounded throughout the room. Ethan wiped away his tears. “Goodbye, my friend.”
Michaela wanted to run to him, wrap her arms around him, and hug him tight— let him cry on her shoulder, like when they were kids, although it was usually her crying on his shoulder. He always teased her about being a big cry-baby. She watched as he slid in next to Summer, who put her head on his shoulder. Talk about irony. She tried not to watch.
There were more stories from friends and people Lou had dealt with over the years about his honesty, his gentle touch with horses, his humor, and his love for life.
Finally, Michaela mustered the courage to go up. She shifted her weight back and forth, looking out at the sea of faces, not sure if she could go on. Then, she looked at her dad, who winked at her.
“My uncle Lou was the most decent person I have ever known. When I was a little kid he taught me the meaning of compassion by showing me an injured mare and how to take care of her. He taught me how to ride, and in many ways he is the reason that I train horses today. When I was a teenager I could go to him and tell him pretty much anything,
and that lasted until only a few days ago.
“He knew what it meant to laugh and enjoy life. He wasn’t a risk taker, but when he wanted something he went for it. He was the type of person who knew how to find balance, and stay balanced. We will miss his warm, easy smile and all that he had to give. For me, the one thing that seems to help the most is the idea that he is still close by. He remains in our hearts, our souls, and memories, and no one can take that from us. Thank you.”
She spotted Camden in the back, who smiled at her. Thank God she had her friend back. She also spotted Joey, True blue, that man. As she stepped down she glanced over at Davis again. He nodded and smiled at her, a look of sympathy in his eyes.
Michaela took her seat as the pastor announced the gathering that would take place at Ben and Janie Bancroft’s place.
Moments later everyone filed out of the home, and because Lou had chosen to be cremated, there was no actual burial. Cynthia stood at the front and greeted guests. “I’m sorry for everything,” Michaela told Cynthia.
Cynthia nodded. “Thank you,” she replied coolly.
Dwayne stood next to Cynthia. It took everything she had not to say anything to the two of them. She wanted to scream at them both: “I know what you’ve done!” But soon enough Davis would solve this case. And, maybe that was why he was really there. Waiting for the services to be over. Shadowing Dwayne and Cynthia, preparing to arrest them. Had he found out something new? Something that revealed they were more than just lovers, that they were also killers?
Michaela’s parents chose to stand with Cynthia at the front. Why wouldn’t they? They had no idea what Michaela knew. She decided to head for the truck, not feeling like talking to anyone. She had to get out of there.
Davis grabbed her arm as she was walking out. “That was a beautiful eulogy you gave. Touching. I really thought you did a nice job.”
“Thanks. I get the feeling you’ve spoken with my uncle’s wife?”
Saddled With Trouble Page 17