by V. B. Tenery
Since Matt Foley had given her and Miles Davis the go-ahead, she’d been pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming—the trip of a lifetime doing something she loved.
Leaving the boys would have been a problem, but her mother agreed to stay until Lucy returned so they wouldn’t miss school.
She scanned the new bathroom fixtures and felt a lump in her throat. While she and the kids were away last Christmas, a group of people had come into her home, repaired a broken sewer line, replaced a dead central heating unit, and repainted the entire house. The only thing she was certain of was that Matt Foley had headed up the group, but she couldn’t gripe him out because she had no proof. The only note left was signed, Santa.
“You ‘bout ready to leave?” her mother asked from the doorway.
“Yes, just making sure I have everything.” She left the suitcase, walked across the room, and drew her mother into a long hug. How she loved that woman. The one constant in her life. Belle Brown was born of the pioneer stock that forged this country into the greatest nation on earth.
Her mother was the most selfless creature Lucy had ever known. And although she was two inches taller and fifteen pounds heavier than her mother, Lucy wouldn’t want to take that little tiger on in a fight.
Named Mattie Belle at birth, her mother had dropped the Mattie. Lucy teased her growing up by calling her Batty Mell. Her mom demanded respect from her children, but as the youngest, Lucy was given a little more leeway and the nickname made her mother smile.
“I really appreciate your staying with Charlie and Mack, Mom. They won’t miss me so much with you here.”
“They’ll miss you, babe. This won’t be dangerous, will it?”
“No danger involved, just a routine investigation.” Through the picture window in the living room, Lucy saw Davis pull into the driveway. “Gotta go. Need to give the boys a hug.”
The boys were finishing off their cereal in the kitchen when she entered. At ten, Charlie was the oldest. He stood and came into her open arms, squeezing her tightly around her waist, his head on her shoulder. Much too old for his young age, Charlie had lived through the brutal years of her marriage. She kissed his brow as Mack, her six-year old little dreamer, joined them in a group hug.
“You guys be good for Gran while I’m gone. I’ll call you every day. Big time difference so it may be early or late.” With a final kiss, she grabbed her suitcase. “Love you.”
When she reached the car, Davis opened the trunk and took her bag. He looked to the east where the sun had not yet risen, but a cloudless sky dawned before them. “Looks like a good day to fly. You ready to do this, Turner?”
“Ready as I’m gonna get, Davis,” she replied.
Grayson Manor
Twin Falls, Texas
For a few moments, Ian Hamilton’s gaze followed Emily as she disappeared down the hallway. Pushing his hands deep into his pockets, he moved back to the library, and stood next to the desk. He picked up his sermon notes, but his thoughts drifted elsewhere.
How could he help Emily deal with her pain? His heart ached for the girl—all too familiar with the hurt she dealt with. Each time he closed his eyes, Ann’s face and those of her husband and children, drifted into his thoughts. A complete family wiped away in the blink of an eye. The loss almost too heavy to bear. But he seemed to be coping better than young Emily.
After he put her to bed last evening, he’d heard her sobs as he walked away. She had cried with abandon. That would help. Tears could wash away some of the hurt. Part of the long grieving process. However, her demeanor this morning gave him pause. She had hardened, seemingly closed herself off into a shell. That wasn’t healthy.
Disheartened, he returned to the desk and worked uninterrupted for almost two hours before Perkins entered with afternoon tea.
Ian stood and eyed the cakes and sandwiches. “Perkins, you are spoiling me beyond redemption. I may never return to the mission field.”
Perkins pushed the cart into position between the two chairs by the hearth. “I’m happy you’re enjoying the food, sir. I’ll pass the compliment along to Molly.”
As the butler left, Alex entered, picked up a sandwich from the tray, and took a bite. “Mmmm. You ever miss this when you’re in the remote parts of Mexico, Ian? I got so tired of eating my own cooking in the bush.”
“I was just discussing that with Perkins.”
Alex grinned and shifted one eyebrow upward. “You had a conversation with Perkins? I’m impressed. He answers my questions and tells me when meals are served. That’s the extent of our interaction. I think he’s offended by my wardrobe and inexperience as lord of the manor.”
“What makes you say that?”
Alex finished the finger sandwich and grabbed a strawberry tart from the platter. “Just an impression. I’ve found English servants are the world’s greatest snobs. And Perkins knows I’ll never be my father.”
He sat near the fireplace, one leg draped over the chair arm. “Perhaps I have been out of civilized society too long. Gone native, so to speak.”
To be honest, Ian had noticed the slackness in Alex’s manners since they’d last met. “I wouldn’t worry about Perkins. He’s really quite human, and he’s very fond of Emily.”
Alex swung his leg to the floor and leaned forward. “How is she?”
Ian shook his head. “I’m not sure it’s prudent for her to return here. The memories must be crushing. I know I’m having difficulty dealing—”
Movement in the doorway made him turn.
Emily, bathed in afternoon sunlight streaming through the library windows, hesitated before stepping farther into the room. She wore cream colored slacks and a matching long sleeve silk blouse. Her gaze came to rest on Ian, then swung to Alex. She stepped forward and extended her hand. “It’s good to finally meet you, Alex.”
He clasped her hand then pulled a chair closer to the fire. “Hello, Emily. I’m glad you decided to stay on at Grayson Manor. Please, join us for tea.” He filled a cup for her and nodded toward the teacart. “The tarts are marvelous.”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. Not now.” She accepted the tea and turned imploring eyes on him. “You must make Sean stay. Surely, you can persuade him. This has been his home since he came to America with Ethan and Ann.”
She switched her attention to Ian. “Can’t you talk to Sean? He might listen to you. Please. He mustn’t leave.” Her violet eyes misted and shimmered in the room’s lights, but she didn’t cry. “He mustn’t.”
Ian looked away. “Emily, this is not my home. I can’t intervene in Alex’s affairs.”
Alex placed his arm on the mantel. “Be my guest. I asked him to stay. Believe me, I tried. I’m not sure the grounds can survive without him. Moreover, I think he’s better off here. He didn’t kill my family; his son did.”
***
Heat burned Emily’s face before she could control it. “I don’t believe for a moment that Jack is the killer. He had nothing to gain from the deaths of your family and my mother.”
Ian’s gaze studied her for a long moment. “Why do you say that? I thought you couldn’t identify the killer.”
Annoyance swept over her and she didn’t know why. “I can’t, but I know who it wasn’t.” The statement didn’t make sense, but it was true.
“I’m not following you,” Alex said.
“When I came down the stairs that night I thought it was Peter, but realized it couldn’t have been him. The man, the killer, was heavier, more muscular. Peter and Jack were both taller. And, there’s another reason.”
“What’s that?” Alex asked.
“He loved Victoria. He would never have harmed her.”
Alex’s jaw clenched. “He could have killed my father—murdered the others because they were witnesses.”
She gave a short, derisive laugh. “Alex, Jack isn’t stupid. He could have caught Ethan alone anytime. He wouldn’t walk into the house with a rifle and start shooting. Jack was also very f
ond of my mother. She took care of him after his mum passed away. The shooter wasn’t Jack McKinnon.” Her jaw muscles tightened, and she looked out the window. “If I thought for a minute he killed my mother…the state wouldn’t get a chance to execute him. I’d beat them to it.”
Morgan Funeral Home
Twin Falls, Texas
Matt arrived for the Grayson funeral services under a cloudless blue sky. A good omen. The crowd wouldn’t have to contend with rain at the graveside service. With the murders trumpeted in the news, he wasn’t surprised the parking lot overflowed down the highway. Reporters and media vans jostled for position across the street.
A buzz of recognition exploded as Matt stepped from his car, and a mob of journalists ran towards him like a herd of stampeding cattle.
He held up his hand. “I’m not here in an official capacity. I’m here to say goodbye to friends. Questions will be handled through the mayor’s office.”
As if on cue, Terrence Hall and his wife pulled up under the portico in a black limousine.
The pack turned and surrounded the limo, microphones in hand. Hall would keep them entertained until Matt was inside the building.
True, he came to mourn, but he also came as a cop to observe. Discounting Jack McKinnon, there was a better than average chance the killer might attend.
Matt moved through the crowd gathered in the foyer to sign the register, and stepped into the family room provided by the mortuary. Alexander, Ian, and Emily had arrived as well as Martin and Caroline Norris, Sean McKinnon, and Elias Perkins. Nearby, a group of men in black suits waited with Norris. Apparently, the Grayson Board of Directors.
A funeral attendant entered and moved the silent group to their seats just before one o’clock.
Matt took the stairs to the wrap-around balcony on the second floor that provided an excellent view of those in attendance. He sat on the right-hand side overlooking the dais.
Sara, seated beside Emily Castleton in the family pew, threw him a quick smile of recognition, then turned back to Emily.
Funerals were always a solemn affair. This one was made more so by the five closed caskets on the raised platform where flowers of every kind spilled over onto the floor. At Alexander’s urging, Emily had included her mother’s service with the Grayson family.
Emily appeared even more fragile in black, her eyes haunted by deep grief. Perhaps this was too soon after her injury for Emily to face such an ordeal. But nothing short of locking her in a cell could have kept her away.
CSU Chief Dale McCulloch slipped into the seat next to Matt and whispered, “Any reason to add Ian Hamilton to your list of suspects?”
Matt shook his head. “He had no motive, at least nothing that has surfaced. Besides the guy is a missionary and has been living in third world conditions in Mexico. Doesn’t seem like money is that important to him.”
Despite the evidence against Jack McKinnon, the Grayson heir topped Matt’s list of suspects. United States border security was a joke. Grayson could have entered with a forged passport or even crossed illegally. Why not? Illegals did it all the time.
Matt watched Alexander’s face throughout the service. It remained impassive. He looked up once and caught Matt’s gaze. Still no reaction. Lack of remorse or English reserve? Impossible to tell at the moment, but Matt promised himself that before this case ended, he would know the answer.
Grayson Manor
Twin Falls, Texas
After the service, Matt joined the mourners at the manor for the wake.
Ian Hamilton welcomed him at the entrance. “Come on in. Perkins has outdone himself.” A shadow passed across his face. “Ann would have been pleased.”
“Chief Foley?”
Matt turned and met the penetrating gaze of the slender, gray haired man behind him. The man stuck out his hand. “Alan Forbes, with the FBI Bureau in Dallas. We’ve spoken on the phone, and I wanted to introduce myself.”
“Of course, it’s good to finally meet you.” Matt gave his hand a firm squeeze and they stepped into the dining room. A large ice sculpture of the Hamilton family crest sat in the center of the table surrounded by an elaborate seafood buffet. A feast befitting its former masters.
Matt and the FBI agent moved to the buffet line and filled their plates. “You guys come up with anything I need to know?”
Forbes swallowed a bite and shook his head. “I just dropped by to pay my respects. I met Ethan a few times. Nice guy. Looks like you got the case solved. You have your killer in custody.” He cast a quizzical glance at Matt. “Or do you think the kid had ties to one of the radical Islamic groups? There’s a lot of that going on today.”
“No,” Matt said. “We haven’t nailed down all the loose ends, but it appears to be a personal matter between the shooter and the victims.”
He and Forbes grabbed a corner where they could people-watch. Force of habit for cops.
Alexander entered the room and made his way across to Matt and Forbes. “I apologize for not being here to greet you when you arrived. I was detained at the gravesite. Please make yourself at home, and if you need anything, let Perkins know.”
Grayson moved among the guests, wearing the mantle of host with ease. Unusual for a family member to be held over after the graveside ceremony. What could have held him up?
Handing his empty plate to a passing white-coated waiter, Matt excused himself from the agent, and went in search of Emily. He found her in the library and took a seat in the chair next to her. “How are you holding up?”
She lifted her chin, the vacant look still in her eyes. “Better than I thought I would, but I can’t wait to put this day behind me. The manor isn’t the same without my mother.”
Her focus shifted to her hands folded in her lap. “I’ll need to move at some point. I really want to leave, but for some reason I feel compelled to stay.”
“When you’re up to it, I’d like to discuss that night again in more detail now that you’ve had time to think about it.”
She gave a slight nod. “I’ve thought of little else. I also wanted to talk to you. Shall I come to your office?”
“That would probably be best. Give me a call before you come so I can make sure I’m available.”
Ian joined them and offered Emily a plate of food and a cup of tea. “You look like you could use this. The tea is sweet and strong.”
She accepted the china cup, regarding him closely. “I’m not sure I’m up to eating right now, Ian, but thank you.”
He set the plate on a nearby table and turned his attention to Matt. “May I get something for you?”
“I ate earlier, thanks. The food was marvelous.”
Ian leaned against the fireplace mantle, one foot on the hearth and looked at Matt. “Are you attending the reading of the will tomorrow?”
Matt nodded. “I’ll be there.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Matt Foley’s Home
Twin Falls, Texas
Matt paced around the sunken living room waiting for a call from Davis and Turner. The two detectives flew out Saturday morning for New South Wales, one of Australia’s six states. Alexander Grayson had shared an apartment in Sydney with Trevor Nelson.
Davis had been concerned about their reception by the authorities in a foreign country, but he’d called after they registered at the hotel to say all went well. A young police sergeant took them under his wing, offering his services in getting whatever information they needed. Good old Aussie hospitality in play.
The phone gave a shrill ring, and Matt snatched it from the base. He glanced at his watch. Due to the time difference, it was after ten o’clock Tuesday morning, in Sydney.
In the worst possible Australian accent, Davis said, “Howdy, mate. We just had us some tucker, and we’re getting ready to go walk-about.”
Matt laughed. “You guys are having too much fun. I may have to bill you for this trip.”
“That’s not right,” Turner said on the extension. “We were planning to put i
n for hazardous duty pay. You probably didn’t know it’s spring and the rainy season Down Under. These folks drive on the wrong side of the road. Davis and I are going through culture shock. Aussie speed limits are in kilometers, the temperature is in Celsius, and they measure rainfall in millimeters.”
“Anything interesting so far?” Matt asked.
“Not much. Archie called this morning,” Davis replied. “He’s the sergeant I told you about. He gave us directions to Grayson’s apartment here. Also told us young Grayson made a couple of trips to England earlier this year. Grayson hasn’t been in any trouble with the local authorities.
“We went by his apartment and spoke with some of the neighbors,” Davis continued. “They liked him. Said he and his roommate were quiet and kept mostly to themselves.”
Turner chimed in. “The lady next door said Grayson hadn’t been around lately. According to her, the two men escorted a couple of local girls around from time to time. Said she’d never seen them bring women back to the apartment and she didn’t know the girls’ names.”
“The two haven’t been back to the apartment for a long while,” Davis said. “But that wasn’t unusual. Grayson traveled on business and spent most of his time in Alice Springs, in the North Territory.”
“The apartment manager let us in to look around,” Turner said. “Empty for the most part. Only a few clothes and some food.”
“Is Alice Springs your next stop?”
“Just a minute, someone’s at the door.” Davis came back to the phone a minute later. “Sorry about that. The maid wanted to know if I was checking out. Lucy’s already checked out of her room. We’re taking a tree-topper out of here today as soon as I get packed. We want to talk to the neighbors in Alice Springs. Hopefully we can get a look inside the house.
“We’ll hire a car and driver while we’re there. I don’t trust myself to remember to drive on the left side of the road.”