Though my desire to visit Brenda’s apartment grew I waited patiently for her to leave the office. Once she did, I motioned her to the stairs. “Before we make changes down here, I want to see her apartment.”
A frown wrinkled her forehead. “I’m not sure we should.”
“Why not? She could have papers belonging to the partnership. Technically you’re her landlady so you can enter if you have a key.”
“I do.”
“Give it to me. If you don’t want to go with me, I’ll go alone.”
She pulled a ring of keys from a hook beside the stairs. “All right. We’ll make a surface check. No opening drawers. Everything in the apartment now belongs to Pam and Jordan.”
“Only her personal possessions like clothes, jewelry and furniture that she bought.”
Joyce nodded. “Lars is concerned about the records. He’s busy faxing things to someone.” She sighed. “He said according to the partnership agreement Herbal Haven is now mine. Brenda wasn’t happy about signing. My attorney insisted and told her this was a standard clause. He’s on Lars’ list of people to call.”
That statement troubled me. Joyce had a motive except she had planned a buyout, not a murder. Did the killer know about the agreement? Did whoever even want part of the store? Was that why her house had been searched and the attempt to open her locked box.
Joyce led the way upstairs and used a key on the ring to open the door at the head of the stairs. I wondered if the police had searched the apartment.
I scanned the living room and crossed to the antique roll top desk. Since the top was open I peered inside and saw nothing but paper, envelopes and stamps. No bills. No check book. I turned away and walked to the door leading to the set of outside stairs. I tried the knob and was relieved to find it locked.
“Do you have a key to this door?”
Joyce shook her head. “Brenda had the stairs added when we remodeled the apartment. There was a small balcony outside this room. She never offered and I never asked.”
Along one wall of the living/dining area I noticed book shelves on either side of a large flat screen television. I moved close enough to study the titles. All hardbacks, mostly fiction with the dustcovers. The spines were perfectly aligned and the books were arranged in alphabetic order by author.
Joyce’s gasp caused me to go to her. “What?” Was there another body?
“This isn’t the way she would leave things.”
I stood in the bedroom doorway. Clothes had been pulled from the closet and the drawers of the dressers and strewn about the room. Shoes lay scattered among the mess. A jewelry box on the top of the dresser appeared to have been searched. Some of the contents lay on the wood.
Joyce stared at the remains. “Rings, gold chains and bracelets are missing.” She reached toward a satin box.
“Don’t touch anything.”
She backed away. “There should be a sapphire necklace, bracelet and earrings in there. Who could have done this? How did they get in?”
“There could be other keys to that door. You need to call the police and report this. I wonder if the police searched here.”
Joyce shook her head. “They weren’t up here for more than a half hour. Just looked to see if anyone was here. I imagine whoever did this used those stairs.”
As I stared at the mess I wondered what the person had been seeking. What kind of secrets had Brenda hidden?
Joyce grasped my arm. “You’re right about calling Zach. There’s nothing more to learn here.”
I wasn’t sure but I wasn’t about to start a search. I followed her to the door. “You need to notify her children to pack her things, preferably with witnesses to make sure anything belonging to the shop isn’t taken. Is all the furniture hers?”
“Not the desk, dining room set and the old icebox. We found them up here and had them refinished.”
“Did she pay for that?”
Joyce shook her head. “We considered using them in the shop and the work was billed to Herbal Haven.”
“Then they belong to the shop. If you decide to sell them, let me know. Paul could take them for his store.”
Chapter 5
As Joyce started downstairs, the horrid bell clanged. My friend halted abruptly and froze. My hand tightened on the railing. We had forgotten to lock the front door of the shop.
“Anyone here,” a deep voice called.
Joyce groaned. “What is he doing here?”
“I peered around her and recognized the man standing in the doorway. Frank Browne, Brenda’s ex-husband, strode forward. Tall and portly with a lock of brown hair flopping over his forehead, he looked rumpled. He had gained weight since I’d last seen him several years ago. Though his law office was in the Hudson River village where I live, I had no reason to seek his council or company.
Joyce had left the key in the lock and continued downstairs. I locked the door and slipped the key into my pocket. No reason to let him know we’d been exploring. “Tell him to get lost,” I whispered.
She shook her head. “I want to know why he’s here.”
Lars stepped from the office. “Herbal Haven isn’t open for business today.”
Frank turned from where he stood at the counter. “Who are you?”
“Lars Claybourne.”
“Aren’t you a long way from home?”
“So are you, Mr. Browne.”
Frank straightened. “Just checking on my children’s future.” He pressed his hands against the counter. “Joyce Rivers, I want the money Brenda owed me.”
Joyce reached the foot of the stairs. “Why ask me? You’ll have to wait and see if she had anything left.”
“Don’t play games with me. When you couldn’t find a loan to buy her share of this place, I gave her the money to buy you out. She signed over her share as collateral.”
“I don’t believe you.” Joyce faced him. “When did this happen? She said nothing to me.”
He laughed. “Why would she tell you before she was ready to spring her new scheme? If you want to remain as owner, I’m sure we can reach a bargain.”
“How much are you talking about?” Joyce paused on the other side of the counter.
“A hundred grand would be nice.”
“Are you out of your mind? Even if I wanted to pay you, I’d never raise that amount.”
“Ask your friends.”
I remained on the steps. “Do you have a signed agreement to prove this really happened? Joyce would be a fool to pass a sum that large without seeing the loan papers.”
His head jerked up. The icy glare in his pale eyes chilled me. My hand tightened on the railing.
“Brenda and I needed no papers.”
Joyce flashed me a look. “Frank, you’re a dreamer if you gave her money. She tricked you. You won’t get a cent without proof in writing, signed and notarized. Her share of the shop isn’t worth near the sum you’re asking.”
I reached Joyce and touched her hand. “Did she mention a counter offer?”
“No,” Joyce said.
“Brenda wanted this kept secret.” His porcine face reddened. “I was on my way to meet her and file the paperwork when I heard about her death.” He leaned against the counter. “Guess you learned what she’d done and lost your temper.”
Joyce shook her head. “I have no idea what’s going on here and I wasn’t here that night.”
Frank smiled. “Cops might be interested in my theory.”
“And they might find your story reeks like rotten fish,” I said. He puzzled me. Why would he want himself or his children to have Brenda’s share of Herbal Haven?
“Go to the police,” Joyce said. “They’ll ask for proof. With none, who will believe you?”
For a flabby man he moved fast. He rounded the counter and grabbed Joyce’s arm. “When do I get my money?”
Joyce stepped back and pulled free of his grasp. “Until Mr. Claybourne decides to release any funds, you can demand all you want. Even then you’ll
need those papers to make a claim.”
Frank’s expression changed from anger to a blandness I believed he practiced for use in the courtroom. “Why aren’t you in jail? Rumors around town say the DA believes you’re guilty.”
I left the stairs and reached Joyce’s side. “What the DA thinks is merely speculation.” I cocked my head. “How long have you been in town? Just today? I don’t think so. Seems to me if Brenda really took money from you, you also have a motive for murder.”
He laughed. “Katherine Miller, here to stick your nose where you don’t belong. Think you’ll pull another coupe like the one at the nursing home?”
“Could be.” My smile echoed his sneer. “Aren’t you the attorney for one of the guilty?”
He waved his hand. “Of no importance here. Brenda was killed by someone. Not me.”
“Or Joyce,” I said.
“Brenda told me how you interfered with the business of this place. You forced Joyce to buy my ex-wife’s share.” He turned to Joyce. "Why don’t you believe Brenda wanted to be the buyer? She loved the challenge of running the shop.” A false note had crept into his voice. His words sounded well-rehearsed like the closing remarks in a trial. I’d heard Frank had skills in persuading jurors to find his clients innocent. I wasn’t falling for his act.
Joyce shook her head. “If she told you that she was lying. Lars and Kate are here because Brenda accepted my offer.”
He scowled. “You have as much proof of her agreement to sell as I have of her interest in buying.”
Lars walked toward us. “You might consider leaving before the police arrive.”
Frank released his grip on Joyce’s arm. Was he guilty of the murder or some other crime?
“Did you pay to have her killed?” I asked.
“Me? I’m an officer of the court and am well aware of the penalties for conspiracy to commit murder. There are other ways to get what I want. Just remember that.”
“Just what do you want?” Though I wanted to believe he was guilty of the murder I had doubts. Why did he want such a large sum of money? The answer to that question might fill in so many of the blank spaces in the puzzle of who and why.
Frank glared. “My money or I’ll have her share of the shop.”
When I opened my mouth to speak, Lars pressed his lips against my ear. “Don’t challenge him. This isn’t your fight.”
Joyce shook her head. “There’s no way Brenda did what you’ve said. She had plans to travel elsewhere.”
“You’ll have to ask her for the truth.” He clapped a hand over his mouth. “That’s right. You can’t. She’s dead. She sure fooled you but manipulating people to get her way was her greatest talent.”
Joyce nodded. “I’ll agree with that.”
Frank stalked to the end of the counter. “You know the money she used to buy into your business came from the sale of my house.”
“Doesn’t mean it was yours,” I said.
Lars grasped my arm. “Kate.”
“Wrong.” Frank said. “In the divorce settlement she received the house to provide a home for Pam and Jordan. Don’t see either of them living here.”
Joyce’s hands fisted on her hips. “Pam’s in college and Jordan refused to live with his mother.”
Frank snorted. “You could have asked me for the money you needed. We used to be such good friends.”
I swallowed a gasp. His voice, rich with innuendo, seemed to hint he and Joyce had been involved. How was that possible?”
Joyce’s body shook. Fear, anger or disgust? “We went to dinner once after Jack died. I don’t consider that meant we were friends, especially when I went home by cab rather than fight you off.”
I exhaled the breath I held.
He sneered. “I thought you promised more than you delivered. Brenda and I had a good laugh about how you ran. But she never told you that Jack didn’t run from her.”
“Enough,” Joyce said.
What was Frank trying to do? Was there a deeper reason he wanted money or a share of the shop? Something smelled and the odor wasn’t mint.
Joyce grasped the edge of the counter. “There’s no way I’m giving you a cent or a share of the shop. Mr. Claybourne offered help before I learned Brenda was running us into bankruptcy.”
He tossed his hack and hooted a laugh. “You were naïve. Should have hired an accountant to keep tabs on her. Brenda was good with numbers but never saw the big picture. If this place is close to folding, how did she afford her baubles and clothes? When did you learn she was stealing? Gives you a strong motive for murder.”
“We have an accounting firm.”
“Ever meet the man?”
Joyce turned away. “Mr. Simons heads a firm in town. They handle most of the local businesses. They’ve never had any questions.”
“Guess they were in on it,” Frank said.
I noticed the tears in my friend’s eyes. “Don’t listen to him.”
He raised a fist. “Keep out of this. What you three don’t know would surprise you. If you weren’t an old lady I’d slug you.”
Lars stiffened. “Enough threats.”
“Brenda owed me. I’m holding Herbal Haven responsible for the full amount. Whether you knew what she was doing or not, you owe me.”
Joyce shook her head. “You’re crazy. Any money my ex-partner owed you has nothing to do with the shop but with her estate. Get out.” She looked at the cell phone Lars offered her and made a call.
Frank stomped to the door. “This isn’t over. I’ll be back for what’s nine.”
“If there’s any money, Pam and Jordan will benefit. Settle with them.”
The door slammed, sending the bell clanging a wild chorus in reflection of his anger. My ears hurt.
Joyce slumped against the counter. “He scares me. How do I handle this? What if he goes to the police and spins his theory?”
“They’ll want proof.” I said.
“Let your attorney deal with him.” Lars said. “We need to visit this accounting firm. I’ve found some figures that puzzle me. You’re paying taxes on more profit than I can find in the books your partner keeps here. Looks as though there’s money hidden somewhere. I need to see what Brenda gives to your accountant and compare the two.”
“I’ll call and see when he’s available,” she said.
“You need to call Zach and tell him about the state of Brenda’s apartment,” I said. “Make sure the police didn’t conduct the search.”
“Will do.” Joyce stepped into the office to make the calls.
Lars hugged me. “Now you have a second suspect. Never did trust Browne. Not sure pushing him was wise. Think of his reputation.”
“I had to learn all I could about his doings. There was something about his demands that make no sense.”
Joyce returned. “We can see Mr. Simons at eleven forty-five.”
“What did Zach say?”
“They didn’t search. Only did an inventory of her jewelry. They also took prints to see if she entertained many people. Only found one other set beside hers.”
So someone had taken the jewelry. Who? Was that person the killer? Though I wanted to believe Frank had killed Brenda, I had too many doubts. He was a bully and lazy. He seemed upset about her decision to sell.
The searcher now interested me. What had he or she been seeking? Had the person taken the missing jewelry? Maybe Pam or Jordan had found a way into the apartment.
Joyce strode to the wall behind the counter and lifted one of the garish paintings from the wall. Lars and I joined her in removing all the pieces of modern art. When we finished Joyce brought prints of mints and herbs from the storeroom off the kitchen that had been a pantry. Lars and Joyce hung them. I emptied sets of shelves to make room for several small tables I found in the kitchen. I set the tables against the wall beneath the windows to display tea sets.
On a long table under one of the front windows near the door I arranged packets of dried herbs and spices along with a se
lection of spice grinders. In the office I typed a dozen copies of a recipe for a seafood boil and placed them with the display.
“What’s this?” Joyce asked.
I explained the display and the recipe. “You could feature a different recipe every week and print them on cards for customers to take.”
“What a great idea. Why did you choose this one?”
“I intend to do lobster for dinner tonight.”
She choked. “Cooking in this heat is insane. You can’t.”
“Not much cooking involved in what I plan. Just minutes for the lobster. Besides, cooking helps me think. I have some puzzles to solve.”
“Such as?”
“Motives for Brenda’s murder. What lies behind Frank’s demands?”
The jangle of the bell caused me to clench my teeth. We should have locked the door after Frank left. I turned and stared.
Joyce moved past me. “Pam, what brings you?”
“Money.” She slurred the words.
The young woman’s hair had been bleached to near white. Dark polish on her nails matched the color of her lips. Her shorts barely covered her crotch. A crimson top tied beneath her breasts barred her midriff and belly. A gold ring dangled from her navel and another from her lower lip.
“What makes you think there’s any money?” Joyce asked.
“Daddy told me. Said you were buying Mother’s share of the business. She’s dead. I’m her heir. I’ll take the money or claim part of this dump.”
Joyce crossed her arms. “Part of your mother’s estate belongs to Jordan. You’re wrong about having a share of the shop. Your mother and I had a partnership agreement. My attorney will inform you if you have a claim on any part of the business.”
“I do. Daddy said so. He’s a lawyer. He’ll take you to court if you don’t pay up.”
“Let him.”
“How about an advance? I really need a couple thousand now.”
I moved close enough to catch a whiff or alcohol. As she moved into the shop she staggered. Was she drunk before noon? She looked up. For a moment our gazes locked. I sucked in a breath. Was her drunken state a ruse? I frowned. What I thought I’d seen was gone.
Murder and Herbal Tea Page 6