He sat on the edge of his bed and looked up at me with sad eyes. “Has Carter had any luck with the antique book dealers?”
“Yes. That's what I came to tell you. Carter is sending you an email with copies of the documents he obtained from a dealer in Tennessee. He purchased a Poe collection last January, presumably yours.”
George swallowed, waiting for me to continue, his tight jaw a clear indication that he knew what I was about to say.
“I'm sorry to tell you that it's Miles.”
He took in a sharp breath and for a moment I thought he might topple over, but he held himself together. “You're positive?”
“Call Carter if you have any questions. I'm sure he'd be happy to explain how he got the information.”
George nodded and turned away from me. “Could you give me a few minutes, Sarah? I just need some time alone.”
“Sure, I understand.”
“Would you mind telling everyone that I'd like to have a meeting with the family in the library at ten o'clock sharp? Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, of course.”
It occurred to me that maybe I should mention what happened with Brett, but I got the feeling that George had bigger problems to contend with.
Before I left, I felt compelled to add, “I'm really sorry, George. I know you were hoping it was Jeremy.”
His eyes confirmed my belief. “Yes,” he said, “but it's better to know the truth even if it hurts.”
Chapter 24
When I arrived in the kitchen, Lucita was pouring coffee into a carafe. She looked up and offered a quick nod. I couldn't blame her for being on edge around me but I was glad she showed up for work.
“Has anyone been down for breakfast?” I asked.
“No, not yet.” She gestured to the pastry basket and handed me a freshly washed coffee mug. “Please, help yourself.”
“Thank you. I'm sorry about last night in your car. I didn't mean to frighten or bully you.” Although in fact, it was exactly what I'd intended.
“Did you tell Mr. Caswell?”
“I had to,” I said. “But he's not angry that you came here that night. He understands.”
She let out a breath and closed her eyes as if giving a prayer of thanks. When she opened her eyes, they were moist. “This is good. He will not fire me?”
“No, he will not fire you but we still need your help, Lucita. Is there anything else you can remember about that night? The voice you heard in the library, could it have been Miles?”
Lucita shook her head. “I'm sorry. I couldn't recognize the voice.”
There was no point in pressing her further, especially when Sue-Ann and Miles waltzed into the kitchen. They peered around, barely giving me a nod.
Sue-Ann eyed the muffins on the tray and wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Do we have any more of those croissants like yesterday? Those muffins have too much sugar.”
Lucita quickly turned away and headed toward the pantry. “I think so. I'll go get them.”
Miles helped himself to a cup of coffee while his wife began picking through the fruit salad as if she expected to find a fly. “I don't understand why that woman has to put so many grapes in here. Most of them look rotten anyway.”
Miles rolled his eyes. “Then don't eat them.”
“I asked her specifically not to put grapes in the salad. I mean, how hard is that to remember?”
“Maybe other people like grapes,” Miles retorted sarcastically. “It's not all about you, dear.”
They continued to bicker for another few minutes about breakfast foods, as if I were invisible. “By the way,” I said to them. “George would like everyone to meet in the library at ten o'clock. He has an announcement to share.”
Miles stood very still, eyes fixated on me. “So, does that mean he has the surveillance footage?”
“I think so.”
I fully expected Miles to react in some way, but he simply resumed drinking his coffee. Sue-Ann seemed a little more intrigued by the news but she made no comment.
Finally, Lucita retuned with a basket of croissants. Sue-Ann barely thanked her for the trouble. “I suppose we should bring up a plate for Sasha. She's barely eaten a thing the past few days.”
After I finished my coffee, I was getting ready to leave the kitchen when Jeremy walked in. He acknowledged me and Lucita with a curt “good morning” while he prepared a plate.
“How is Margaret this morning?” I asked just to be polite.
“Fine,” he said, keeping his eyes on the task at hand. “She's better today.”
“Good, because George wants everyone to meet in the library at ten o'clock. Can we expect you and Margaret to be there?”
He paused to look at me, his eyes cold and dark. “Our flight leaves in a few hours and we need to pack. A car will be here soon to pick us up.”
“Really?” I said. “Did you change your flight? I thought you weren't leaving until this afternoon.”
“Margaret decided we should head out early because of the weather. Don't want to be stranded here.”
Yeah, being stranded in this luxurious mansion would be pure torture, no doubt. “Well that's too bad,” I said. “I'm sure George will be disappointed. He has some important news.”
Jeremy didn't seem to care about George's news as he turned to Lucita and said, “Margaret says the toilet is plugged in her bathroom and she'd like you to come fix it.”
Lucita seemed confused by this request, but she didn't ask questions. “Sure, no problem.”
He nodded. “Thanks, she'll appreciate it.”
After Lucita had left, Jeremy gathered his tray of food and headed out too. “I better get this up to Margaret before she starves.”
“Yeah,” I said. “We wouldn't want that to happen.”
Chapter 25
I was surprised that Brett and Olivia hadn't been down for breakfast yet. It was almost nine-thirty and the moment of truth was drawing near. The butterflies in my stomach were having a party.
After my second cup of coffee, I decided to lay off the caffeine. It wasn't helping with my nerves.
At 9:45, Olivia entered the kitchen alone. She cast a disapproving look my way as she headed to the coffee counter. “So have you discovered who the killer is?” Her flippant tone was laced with sarcasm.
“Yes, as a matter of fact your father told me this morning that he has some information.”
That stopped her cold. “What information?”
“I'm not sure. He's gonna make an announcement in ten minutes. He wants everyone in the library.”
“Where is he right now?”
“He wants to be alone, but he'll be down in a few minutes.”
Olivia seemed to have lost all interest in coffee or food. “Does this mean that he found something on the surveillance cameras?”
“I think so.”
For the first time, I finally saw an inkling of compassion in her eyes. “So, it's true? Someone killed your mother?”
I didn't know what to say. Thankfully Brett appeared in the entryway and went to stand by his wife. He slipped an arm around her waist in a loving embrace, completely ignoring me as if I wasn't there.
“I just checked our flight online,” he said to her. “No delays so far.”
Olivia nodded but didn't say a word. Finally Brett turned to me with a strained smile and intense eyes that said, tread lightly.
“Morning, Brett,” I said. “I was just telling your wife that George has some information he'd like to share with the family. He wants everyone to gather in the library by ten o'clock.”
Brett blinked at me. “What kind of information?”
“We'll find out soon enough.”
“I just saw Jeremy. He was taking Margaret's suitcase down the stairs and he said a car was coming to pick them up in a few minutes. Why are they leaving so soon?”
I checked my watch. “Who knows, but let's go see if George is waiting for us.”
Chapter 26
&nbs
p; George stood by the bookshelf dressed in his usual attire of pressed navy slacks, button down shirt and leather loafers. His thin gray hair was neatly combed back from his face. When our eyes met, I no longer sensed his sadness. Something else had taken its place. Anger, perhaps?
Brett and Olivia were right behind me and they both claimed a spot on the leather couch. Miles and Sue-Ann came in next, neither of them seemed eager to sit down. They stood by the far wall, hands clasped in front of them, eyes darting around in confusion. Where was their daughter? Sasha had barely shown her face the entire weekend.
Then Margaret hobbled in with her cane, Jeremy by her side. He helped ease her into a chair and stood behind her like a royal guard. I was relieved to see they had decided to stay for the discussion.
“Where is Sasha?” George asked, looking around as if she might be hiding behind a curtain.
Miles cleared his throat. “I'm sure she'll be down soon, Dad. You know how teenagers are.”
George's expression remained tight. “Well, I suppose I'll get started.” He slowly walked to the center of the room, hands in his pockets. “First, I want to say that I'm sorry it’s come down to this. The fact that I can't trust my own family puts a great burden on my heart but, today, I am giving you an opportunity to restore that trust.”
The silence was so intense, I could only hear my own heart beating. As I looked around the room, all I saw were stone faces and wide eyes.
“So now I ask the question,” George continued. “Who here is responsible for Josephine's death? If you come forward right now and confess, I give you my word, I will do whatever I can to protect you. I will hire the best lawyers, whatever it takes to keep you out of jail, as long as you tell me right now. I want to know the truth.”
After a full thirty seconds of silence, George closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. When he opened them again, he was staring directly at his son. “Miles, is there something you'd like to tell me? Now is your chance.”
All heads turned toward Miles and Sue-Ann.
“Dad, you can't think I had anything to do with it.” His voice cracked like a pubescent boy. “I swear I didn't.”
George shot him a look of utter disappointment. “I know about the books, Miles. I spoke with a dealer in Tennessee this morning. You sold him my Poe collection for one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. These books sitting on my bookshelf are not the ones I originally purchased at auction two years ago. You replaced them with a less valuable edition, thinking I'd never notice the difference and, I probably wouldn't have if Tina hadn’t caught the discrepancy in the print date.”
“But Dad ...” Miles began, but must have realized there was no point in denying it.
Sue-Ann glared at her husband like he was the devil himself. “Is this some kind of joke? Please tell me you didn't do this. What did you do with the money?”
Miles glared back at her. “We have bills, damn it. You have no idea because you're too busy getting your nails and hair done to realize how broke we are.” Miles turned to look at his father with pleading eyes. “Dad, I'll get the books back, I promise. We'll sell our house if we have to ...”
“I don't give a damn about the books,” George fired back. “Tell me what you did when Josephine caught you stealing.”
Miles shook his head in utter disbelief. “She never saw me take them. I stole the books months before she ever moved in here with you. I swear on my mother's grave I did not hurt Josephine.”
George crossed his arms over his chest and remained very still. “I have the surveillance footage from that night. I haven't watched it yet because I'm afraid of what I'll see. I know I'll never be able to get the image out of my head. So I will ask you all one more time. Who pushed Josephine down the stairs? If no one comes forward, I will submit the video to the police and let them deal with you.”
It seemed as if everyone was holding their breath, afraid to even breathe. Finally, a voice broke the silence and all heads turned to the doorway where Sasha stood.
“Grampy, please forgive me.”
George blinked at her in confusion. “Sasha, what are you saying? Please tell me you had nothing to do with this.”
Tears streamed down her face. “I didn't do it, but I saw who did.” She lifted her arm and extended a finger to the man sitting on the leather couch. “It was him.”
In an instant, all eyes were on Brett.
“Brett?” George took a step toward him. “Is this true?”
“Of course not,” Brett said. “She's lying. What reason would I have to kill Josephine?”
Olivia inched away from her husband in disgust. “The better question is, why would Sasha lie about such a thing? What did you do, Brett? Why would you push an old woman down the stairs? Tell me right now!”
He opened his mouth to speak, but instead a nervous laugh came out. “This is ridiculous.”
George went to stand by his granddaughter. “Honey, tell me exactly what happened.”
She wiped the tears from her face and nodded. “Uncle Brett and I were up late that night. We had some wine and shared a joint. I didn't think we were bothering anyone. We tried to be quiet.”
“Oh my god.” Olivia moved away from her husband. “You son of a bitch.”
Brett placed a hand on his wife's knee as if to calm her down but she slapped his hand away. “Get away from me,” she said. “You make me sick.”
Sue-Ann lashed out. “Brett, you gave my daughter drugs? No wonder her eyes were so bloodshot the next morning. She told me she had allergies.”
George held up a hand to request silence. He urged Sasha to continue.
“Josephine came into the library and caught us smoking,” she said, hanging her head in shame. “And doing other things.”
“Other things?” Olivia screeched at her husband next to her. “Were you having sex with my niece?”
Brett raised his hands defensively. “Of course not.”
Sue-Ann marched clear across the room, and before anyone could stop her, she punched Brett square in the nose. “You bastard. You corrupted our innocent daughter.”
Brett covered his nose with a hand as blood dripped all over him. “Believe me, you're daughter ain’t so innocent.”
Sue-Ann was about to clock him again, but Miles stepped in to stop her. “Don't, honey. I'l make sure he gets what he deserves.”
George put his arm around his granddaughter. “You're doing great, sweetheart. I need you to tell me what happened next, okay?”
Sasha nodded, still in tears. “Josephine threatened to go up and tell you what she saw but Brett chased after her. She barely made it to the top of the stairs when he grabbed her.”
George asked, “Did Brett push her, or was it an accident?”
“I ...I don't know.”
Brett was giving Sasha a warning look, like she'd better not spill her guts, or else.
George calmly said to her, “I know this is hard, but you're doing the right thing, here. Please tell me, do you think Brett pushed her by accident, or did he intend to hurt Josephine?”
Sasha refused to look at Brett. She turned away from him and focused on her grandfather. “Brett was angry and he pushed her hard. She fell back and ... I didn't know how to stop it. I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you the truth but I was afraid. Brett said he would tell everyone that I was the one who pushed her.”
Miles glared at Brett. “You killed a woman in front of my daughter? What kind of animal are you?”
Brett kept his mouth shut. He must have known there was no point in trying to defend himself.
Sue-Ann and Miles both went to their daughter and hugged her.
“What about the surveillance tape?” Aunt Margaret said. “That should be enough evidence to convict him. They'll throw his ass in jail.”
George and I exchanged a knowing glance. “Well,” George said. “I'm afraid that's not possible since there is no surveillance video.”
Brett jumped to his feet. “I knew you were making that up. If you
have no real proof, then there's nothing you can do to me. I'm free to go, which is exactly what I'm going to do.”
As Brett started to leave the room, I stood up and blocked his path. “Not so fast.”
“Get out of my way, Tina. I'm sorry about what happened to your mom, but I can't change it now.”
“So you admit to pushing her down the stairs like Sasha said?”
“Fine, I admit it but, it doesn't matter now. The only person who can testify against me is Sasha, and she was under the influence of drugs. Need I say more? Now, move aside, Tina.”
“By the way, my name is not Tina Hayes,” I said. “And I'm not Josephine's daughter.”
Brett cocked his head. “What?”
“It's true,” George said. “I hired Sarah to impersonate Josephine's daughter for the weekend. Sarah's partner installed audio surveillance throughout the house and has been recording all conversations. Including Brett's admission of guilt just now.”
According to the stunned faces of everyone, this information came as a complete shock.
Even Aunt Margaret was speechless.
“There must be some kind of law against taping conversations without the person's consent,” Brett said. “I'll have my lawyer throw the evidence out of court.”
“What lawyer?” Olivia said. “You can't afford a lawyer. You can't even get a paid part in a commercial.”
His face turned bright pink. “You're wrong about me. I'm gonna make it big someday.”
“Sure,” Aunt Margaret piped in. “You'll be famous when they show your mug shot on the evening news.”
Brett looked at Aunt Margaret with venom in his eyes. “Shut up old hag.”
“I bet you'd love to throw me down the stairs, too,” she said.
Brett clenched his fist as if he wanted nothing more than to punch her face but, instead, he retrieved his cell phone from his back pocket and dialed a number. As he stomped out of the library, I assumed he was calling a cab.
The Devil You Know (Sarah Woods Mystery Book 15) Page 9