Several people, mostly friends of Josephine, approached me. Their condolences seemed heartfelt and, thankfully, none of them challenged me about my true identity. George was right. I didn’t have to worry about a thing.
The limo ride back to the mansion was a bit awkward. George stared out the window, apparently not in the mood to converse with his family. They must have realized that their father needed his space so not a word was spoken.
Back home, George excused himself. He said he was tired and wanted to take a nap. In fact, everyone retreated to their rooms without saying much to each other or to me. I was fine with that, because I felt emotionally drained.
I went upstairs to my bedroom and changed out of my dress and heels. It felt good to wear jeans, a comfy cotton sweater and a pair of slippers with wool socks. I called Carter to find out what Aunt Margaret and Jeremy had been up to while we were away.
“Margaret hasn’t left her bedroom,” Carter said. “But she’s been ordering Jeremy around like a servant. He’s been up and down the stairs all morning, getting her coffee, breakfast, the newspaper, and eventually helping her take a shower. She’s been quiet for the past thirty minutes or so. I have no idea where Jeremy is at the moment.”
“Probably taking a much needed break,” I said.
“So how did the service go?” he asked. “Must’ve been awkward.”
“Just sad, really. I can’t believe I actually cried at one point. There weren't any issues with Josephine's friends. I don't think anyone suspected I wasn't Tina.”
“So, how did George’s kids react?”
“They didn’t have much to say the entire time, but that’s not unusual. Most people are subdued during a funeral. If anyone is feeling particularly guilty, they’re doing a grand job of hiding it. I don’t think Brett told his wife or anyone about our conversation last night because Olivia isn’t acting any differently towards me.”
“You only have a day and a half left,” he reminded me. “You’re gonna have to turn up the heat.”
“I know. Look, I’d better let you go. I’m heading downstairs to look for Jeremy. He’s the only person I haven’t had a chance to speak with.”
“Okay. Just watch your back and, remember, I’m always listening.”
Chapter 14
When I got down to the library, Jeremy was sitting on one of the leather couches, seemingly absorbed in the leather bound book in his lap. His blonde hair looked almost white, and I wondered what nationality he was. Swedish, maybe?
At the sound of my footsteps, he looked up, startled. His gaze lingered on me for a few seconds, but he said nothing.
“Hey, Jeremy.” I walked closer and pointed to the book. “What’cha reading?”
He sat up, closed the book and placed it on the chair beside him. The cover was facing down so I couldn't read the title. “Oh, nothing,” he said. “George said I could borrow any book I wanted to.”
Whatever book it was, he seemed embarrassed to show me.
I went to sit next to him, despite the look of trepidation on his face. I picked up the book he’d just laid down. “Madame Bovary, by Gustave Flaubert. Hey, wasn’t this considered pornography back in the day?”
He blushed. “It’s a classic.”
“I know. I’ve heard it’s quite an interesting story. Maybe someday I’ll get around to reading it.”
Jeremy didn’t seem to be in the mood for discussing his taste in literature. Might as well get down to business. “So, where is Margaret? I hope she's feeling better.”
“She’s taking a nap. I was just waiting until she wakes up.”
“How will you know when she wakes up if you’re down here?”
He gestured to the device clipped to his jeans. “I have a pager.”
“She keeps you on a tight leash.”
“It's my job.”
For a young guy in his twenties, Jeremy seemed awfully serious. According to the background check Carter did on him, Jeremy was born and raised in Atlanta. His parents are both school teachers and still live in Atlanta. Jeremy had gone to nursing school while working a full time job as a bartender. With his lack of sparkling personality, I had to believe he didn't make good tips.
“Well, I should go check on Margaret,” he said. “And make sure, she's okay.”
He was about to get to his feet when I gently grasped his arm to prevent him from getting up.
His look of surprise let me know that he had not expected physical contact.
“Sorry,” I said, letting go of him. “I didn’t mean to grab you like that. It’s just that, well, I really need someone to talk to. Someone who isn’t part of the family. Do you have a few minutes, I’d really appreciate it.”
He looked around nervously. “I can’t stay long. I really should get back to Margaret.”
I did my best to whip up some tears. Guys tend to let their guard down in the presence of a crying female. I dabbed at my eyes with a tissue and said, “I don’t think my mother’s death was an accident. I don’t have any proof yet, but I’m thinking about going to the police to have them open an investigation.”
When I lifted my head to look at him, his mouth hung open. “Have you said anything to George about this?” he asked.
“Not yet. Maybe tonight. I just wanted to get someone else’s opinion. You know the family better than I do, so what do you think?”
“I hardly know them,” he said. “I’d only met them last month and, besides, they don’t talk to me.”
He clearly didn’t want to get involved, but I wasn’t going to let him off that easily. “My mom was going to marry George, but I have a feeling someone didn’t want that to happen for obvious reasons. You were the one who found my mother. Is there anything you can tell me, like a clue as to how it could have happened …”
Jeremy shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry. She was gone when I found her that morning. There was nothing I could do for her. If there was something I could have done, I would have.”
“It just doesn’t make sense,” I persisted. “If my mom had tripped all on her own, somebody must have heard her. She would have woken someone up with her screams, right?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I really don’t know what else to say about it.”
“Look, I probably sound paranoid, but do you have any idea how much money is involved? Millions of dollars and think about it; how easy would it be for someone to push my mother down the stairs? It’s perfect, really.”
“No, it’s not perfect,” he said. “There’d be no guarantee that she’d die from the fall.”
Of course, I knew that but the fact that he said it made me wonder. Jeremy must have given this some thought, to have come up with that conclusion, just as I had. “I have to assume it was one of George’s kids, but I also know that Margaret had issues with my mom. She suspected her of marrying George for his money, didn't she?”
“What are you saying?” Jeremy asked. “That Margaret pushed your mom down the stairs? Margaret can barely walk, let alone manhandle somebody.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. Margaret may be handicapped, but I wouldn’t necessarily say she was helpless or weak. In fact, I could imagine her doing some serious damage with that cane. “My point is,” I continued. “Anyone is capable of murder and I believe that my mom was murdered by one of George’s family members.”
“Then you should do what you have to do,” he said. “But I don’t know anything.”
I couldn’t be certain he was telling the truth but I understood his stance. I was basically asking him to betray his employer. “Please don’t mention this to anyone, okay?”
Before he had a chance to respond, his pager went off. He looked down and pressed a button. “Margaret needs me. I have to go.”
As Jeremy left the library, I noticed he’d forgotten about the Madame Bovary book. I decided to leave it right where he left it. Maybe he’d be back for it later.
Chapter 15
After my talk with Jeremy, I was about
to leave the library when Olivia appeared in the doorway. By the tense expression on her face, I got a bad feeling that she had overheard the conversation.
“Tina, may I have a word with you?” There was an edge to her tone and I knew she meant business.
“Of course,” I said. “In here?”
She marched over to the leather couch and sat down, apparently expecting me to follow suit, so I did.
She turned to me with a look of pure incredulity. “You actually think that one of us killed your mother?”
Brett must have finally told her, unless she'd overheard my conversation with Jeremy. “Look, I don’t know any of you and you don’t know me. But there’s a lot of money at stake. Can you blame me for being suspicious?”
She evaded the question and pointed a finger at my face. “You better not mention this to my father. It will crush him.”
If she only knew. “Then help me prove that my suspicions are false.”
Olivia raised her hands. “How the heck am I supposed to do that? Everyone was sleeping when Josephine fell.”
“How do you know that?” I asked. “Unless you were awake.”
She blinked at me, not sure what to say. Finally, she cleared her throat and changed the subject. “You’re just upset because now you have no ties to this family’s wealth. If your mom married my dad, you'd technically be family…”
“I don’t care about your money,” I said. “I live in mud huts with tribespeople most of the time. Mansions like this hold little appeal for me.”
Olivia leaned back and folded her arms across her chest. Her fierce gaze was unrelenting. “If my dad had any idea what you’ve been saying, he’d tell you to pack your bags and leave immediately.”
“Is that so? Well, then I suggest you go tell him and we’ll see.”
She didn’t leave but I could tell her brain was going a mile a minute. “Why do you think it's the family? I mean, why couldn't it have been the maid or something? Maybe she had a reason to kill your mom.”
“You're trying to blame Lucita?”
“Whatever her name is, I don't remember. The point is, after the hospitality my family has shown you, you treat us like this?”
“First of all, it’s your father who has been hospitable, not you or the rest of your family. Although, I will say your husband was very sweet last night when we shared that bottle of wine.”
As I’d expected, that comment elicited an outburst.
“I think I’ve heard enough.” She got to her feet, gave me one last dirty look, then she stomped out of the library. Seconds later, I heard her footsteps going up the stairs.
I did not envy Brett. He was about to get an earful and I felt kind of shitty about it. It certainly wasn’t my intention to cause a rift in their marriage. But if Olivia had just kept her cool and talked to me, I wouldn’t have used that card. But maybe this was for the best. George wanted me to create some drama, and that's what I've done.
I fully expected Olivia to approach her father and complain about me. Perhaps she might suggest that he kick me out of the house for being disrespectful. I wish I could be a fly on the wall for that conversation.
.
Chapter 16
After my talk with Olivia, I retreated to my bedroom, locked the door and called Carter.
“You’re not making many friends,” he said as soon as he answered.
“No. Everyone will hate me by the time this weekend is over.”
“Well, Olivia went to talk to Miles and Sue-Ann. They’re planning to tell George.”
“The fact that they are going on the defense tells me something,” I said. “They have guilty consciences.”
“I agree. I’ll keep an ear out but, so far, nobody has actually admitted to pushing Josephine down the stairs.”
“Well, whoever did it, is being extra careful but we also have to accept that maybe no one is guilty. I hope George realizes that this situation could backfire on him in a serious way.”
“That’s not our concern,” he said. “We have a job to do.”
“I know. Anyway, there's something else we might want to consider. On the night of Josephine's death, Lucita claims she went home around seven-thirty. She has a husband but no kids. Is it possible she came back to the mansion later that evening?”
“Why?” he said. “You don't think she's involved, do you?”
“No, but it's not a bad idea to check her out. We never thought to do a background check on her.”
“I can do that. As for the other thing, Lucita would’ve had to punch in the alarm code to get back inside. I'll contact the security company to find out.”
“Good. It pays to be thorough.”
“I’m on it.”
I wasn’t sure what to do next. I thought about going to knock on George’s bedroom door but maybe he was sleeping. At 4:15, there were still two and a half hours until dinner.
I decided to stay in my bedroom and wait it out. Maybe someone would come knocking on my door.
No one ever did.
Chapter 17
A few hours later, I still hadn’t heard back from Carter.
By 6:15, I decided to exit the bedroom and see who might be hanging around downstairs.
I was surprised to find Jeremy and Margaret sitting at the kitchen counter drinking tea.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
Margaret chortled. “Up in George’s room, having an intervention of sorts.”
“An intervention?”
Margaret finally took a sip of her tea and swished the liquid around in her mouth like mouthwash. After she set the cup back down on the saucer, she leaned back in her chair and offered me a sly smile. “It appears you have caused some upset around here. My niece Olivia is trying to convince my brother that you should not be welcome in this house any longer. Ha!. My brother is not the kind of man to throw his guest out on the street.”
“What do you think?”
Margaret seemed amused at my blunt question. “As a matter of fact, I think you have good reason to feel the way you do.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “Really?”
“Those kids of his are spoiled rotten and, if you want my opinion, they don’t deserve a single penny of his inheritance.”
“But do you think one of them killed my mother?”
“Can’t help you with that but I will tell you one thing; unless you have some proof, don’t expect a confession.”
For once, I appreciated her candor. “I'm going to find out. Will you help me?”
Margaret snapped her fingers and Jeremy got to his feet. “Would you mind going upstairs to get my glasses. Thank you.”
When he disappeared, she turned back to me. “I know that you and your mother weren’t close, but I respect the fact that you flew all the way back home to pay your respects.”
I wasn't sure what she was getting at. “But...”
“But I didn't like your mother. As a matter of fact, I threatened her the night she died.”
“You threatened my mother? Why?”
“I told her she was using my brother to get at the family fortune. I may have said some nasty things, I don’t really remember what I said, exactly. I was very upset after they announced their engagement. I also realized that my brother will do exactly what he wants to do. I wasn’t going to change his mind.”
“And you’re telling me this because …”
“Because, the whole family heard those nasty things I said. It’s going to come up eventually and I wanted you to hear it from me.”
“So what you’re saying is, you didn’t push my mother down the stairs.”
Margaret snorted. “What do you think?”
“No offense, I really don’t trust anyone in this house.”
“Nor should you.”
When Jeremy came back into the room, he handed Margaret her glasses. She put them on and began thumbing through her magazine, letting me know she was done talking.
Chapter 18
At 6:45, the family came downstairs for dinner.
George seemed his perfectly gracious self as he invited me to sit next to him at the table. He whispered to me, “Get ready. I'm about to drop another bomb.”
I had no idea what he meant by that but I mentally prepared myself. George's desperation had me walking on egg shells.
George cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. “Now, I usually prefer not to discuss serious matters at the dinner table; however I think it’s important to get some things out in the open.” He turned to me with a reassuring smile. “Tina, it has been brought to my attention that you have some questions about your mother.”
I felt everyone’s eyes on me and suddenly the temperature in the room increased by ten degrees. This was my moment and I had to be convincing. “Yes,” I said. “I have questions. I want to know who pushed my mother down the stairs.”
George’s eyebrows rose up in mock surprise. “Is that what you really think?”
“Yes.”
Olivia couldn’t contain herself any longer. “It’s preposterous, Dad. I mean, how can she believe that any of us would do something like that? We’re not savages.”
George gave his daughter a stern look. “Duly noted.” He turned to face me again. “Tina, what would you like me to do?”
“I don't know,” I said. “Maybe talk to the police and open an investigation?”
Olivia stood up, pushed her chair back preparing to leave the table when her father said, “Please sit down. We are going to discuss this like adults.”
She sat back down and folded her hands together atop the table. “I can't listen to this any longer.”
“Now,” George continued, setting his gaze back on me. “I'm sorry to tell you that there's not much the authorities can do at this point. The coroner ruled her death an accident. Except ...” He covered his mouth like he'd just had an epiphany. “I can't believe I hadn't thought about this until just now.”
The Devil You Know (Sarah Woods Mystery Book 15) Page 6