by B R Snow
“The rumors about you are true. You can be an incredibly annoying woman,” Bentley said, shaking his head. “Again, I’m forced to ask. So what?”
“So, I think this would be a good time for Oliver to talk a bit about his father’s company,” I said.
Another long silence filled the room. Everyone was baffled by my comment, and they looked around the table and exchanged blank stares. I kept my focus on Oliver.
“Oliver?” I said.
“What does my father’s company have to do with a bank robbery?” Oliver said, glaring at me.
“Nothing,” I said. “But the fact that you used to work there does.”
“What is she talking about, Oliver?” Lucinda said.
“I have no idea, Lucinda.”
But Oliver was unable to maintain eye contact with me, and I pressed forward.
“Your father owns a large civil engineering company, right?” I said.
“Obviously you know he does,” Oliver said.
“What are some of the projects his company does?”
“Construction mainly. Roads, bridges, stuff like that.”
“And a lot of those projects require the use of dynamite and other explosives,” I said.
“Of course,” Oliver said.
“What’s your educational background, Oliver?” I said.
“You writing a book?” Oliver said, again glaring at me.
“It’s a simple question, Oliver,” I said, smiling at him.
“I don’t like you,” he said.
“I’m not surprised, Oliver,” I said, reaching into my bag. “You have a master’s degree in engineering, right?”
“I do.”
“What was the topic of your master’s thesis?” I said, removing a thick document from my bag.
“I don’t remember,” Oliver said.
Several people around the table snorted.
“You don’t remember,” Bentley said, laughing. “For a year, it was all you talked about.”
“Nice try, Oliver,” Lucinda said.
I slid the document down the table. It stopped directly in front of Oliver.
“Maybe that will refresh your memory,” I said. “The Safe and Effective Advanced Practices for Using Precision Explosives in Densely Populated Urban Areas. The title is quite a mouthful.”
“I barely got past the title,” Chief Abrams. “Talk about your dense reading material.”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding in agreement. “Way too much math and science for me.”
“So I know something about explosives. Big deal.”
“Oliver?” Lucinda whispered, placing a hand on her husband’s forearm.
“Shut it, Lucinda.”
Lucinda flinched and pulled her hand back.
“Oliver?” Caspian said.
“Yes, Caspian?”
“Tell me about the deal you made with Brock,” she said.
“Just keep your mouth shut, Oliver,” Brock said, glancing down the table at Chief Abrams.
“After Brock couldn’t find the new will, he came to me for help.” Oliver started slowly, but his speech and his fluttering eyelids both picked up the pace as he continued. “And I figured it was a win-win, so I agreed to help.”
“A win-win?” Caspian said.
“Yeah. Brock showed me the original will, and when I saw that Lucinda wasn’t in it, I was furious. I mean, really. What sort of monster disinherits the one kid who devoted her entire life to taking care of her parents? And Brock made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“How much?” Lucinda said.
“Five million,” Oliver said.
“To do what?” Lucinda said.
“Either find the new will or confirm that it didn’t exist,” Oliver said. “If it did, I figured that your old man had a change of heart and put you back in. If there wasn’t a new will, we’d at least get something from the estate. You know, a chunk of Brock’s share. Like I said, it was a win-win. I did it for us, Lucinda.”
In a strange way, Oliver’s reasoning did make some sense to me, and I was having a hard time arguing with his logic.
“Yeah, right,” Lucinda said, shaking her head. “You have done anything for me in a long time, Oliver.”
“Well, it’s a little hard when you wouldn’t ever leave the house.”
“I had responsibilities, Oliver,” Lucinda said, then glanced at across the table at her brother. “Is all this true, Brock?”
“I have no idea what he’s talking about,” Brock said, casually.
“So when you couldn’t find the will anywhere,” I said. “Brock remembered the safe deposit box your father had at First National.”
Oliver nodded, and Brock slumped down in his chair.
“I looked everywhere for it,” Oliver said.
“I knew somebody had been in my house,” Caspian said. “When I got back from New York, I could just tell that somebody had been rummaging through my things. I can’t believe you would do something like that, Oliver.”
“I’m so sorry, Caspian,” he said. “I was getting desperate.”
“The second explosion must have been tricky to pull off,” I said. “You used a controlled form of mini-explosions instead of one big one to open the safe deposit boxes, right? That’s why it sounded like a series of pops.”
Oliver ignored me and glanced across the table at Brock.
“Nice story, Suzy,” Brock said. “Given all the fantasies you come up with, I’m not surprised you and Caspian hit it off.”
“You know, Brock,” I said, smiling at him. “I’m not sure why Caspian and I have hit it off, but I’m sure glad we did.”
Caspian smiled at me, blinked twice, then nodded for me to continue. I refocused on Oliver.
“Did you have Wilbur’s body in the trunk the night of the robbery, or did Brock already have him stashed somewhere in the bank?”
Their eyes widened, and Oliver’s shoulders seemed to sag. Lucinda turned in her chair and stared at her husband.
“What is she talking about, Oliver?” Lucinda said.
“I have no idea. The woman is obviously deranged.”
“Oliver?”
“Yes, Caspian?”
“Did you kill Wilbur?”
“I’m done talking,” Oliver said, folding his arms.
“Finally,” Brock whispered.
“What happened, Oliver?” I said, unwilling to shut it down. “Wilbur showed up at Caspian’s house while you were there, didn’t he? What did he do? Announce his plans to return to the family? Maybe he threatened you, or you him, and you got into an argument. And that was when you stabbed him with the gardening shears.”
“Prove it,” Oliver said, examining one of his fingernails.
“I don’t need to prove it. And while I have some thoughts on how your parents died, that’s probably going to be a lot harder to confirm,” I said, shrugging. “But that’s for other people to do. I’m just trying to figure out what the heck happened so I can get on with my life.”
I noticed the stares I was getting from the others.
“I have a tendency to get obsessed with things like this,” I said, shrugging. “It’s one of those personal demons I’m working on.”
“Let me know if you need any help,” Caspian said.
Chief Abrams laughed as he grabbed his phone. He had a brief conversation then put his phone back in his pocket. Less than a minute later, two state policemen entered the conference room and remained standing in the doorway.
“Those two,” Chief Abrams said, pointing at Oliver and Brock.
“We’ll need both of you to stand and put your hands behind your back,” one of the policemen said.
They complied, and Brock and Oliver were handcuffed and led out of the room.
“We’re done here, right?” Bentley said, standing up.
“Oh, yeah,” Walter said. “We’re done.”
Bentley flashed a brief wave, then almost trotted out of the room. Lucinda and Roxanne soon foll
owed. Caspian got up from her chair and made her way to our end of the conference room table.
“Thank you,” Caspian said.
“We didn’t really do much, Caspian,” I said. “But, thanks. Are you going to be okay?”
“I certainly hope so,” she whispered. “But this is a lot to process.”
“Do you need a ride home?” Chief Abrams said.
“No, I’ll be fine. But thanks for the offer,” she said, heading for the door.
“Caspian,” I said.
“Yes, Suzy.”
“I just have one question about the new will.”
“What is it?”
“It was at your parents’ house the whole time, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling.
“It was behind one of your paintings on the wall,” I said, smiling back at her.
“Yes. Do you know which one?”
“It was the one called Just Leave Everything to Me, right?”
“You’re a very smart woman, Suzy.”
“That was a nice touch, Caspian.”
“I thought you’d enjoy that one.”
Epilogue
A few days later, I was sitting in the living room with Josie and Chef Claire catching up while the dogs wrestled, then slept like a log at our feet. We heard a knock on the kitchen door, and I saw a delivery man standing outside. I signed for the package and carried the large box into the living room and opened it. The dogs initially went on point, but soon lost interest when they realized food wasn’t involved and went back to sleep. I pulled the large painting out of the box, then set it on the mantel above the fireplace. I stepped back and the three of us stared at the family of ducks swimming in a pond of vivid color.
“That’s the one you were talking about,” Josie said.
“Yeah,” I said, continuing to study the painting.
“She’s very talented,” Chef Claire.
“I think she was around twelve when she did this one,” I said.
“A child prodigy,” Josie said. “Please tell me there’s not an invoice in there.”
I laughed, but turned the box upside down just to make sure. A sealed envelope fell onto the floor. I opened it and read.
Suzy,
I no longer have the need or desire to maintain this particular family memory, and since you mentioned how much you liked it, I wanted you to have it. I hope the square footage is sufficient for your needs. Be well, and I hope our paths cross again in the near future.
Caspian.
PS – I meant to tell you the other day in Walter’s office, but then we all got distracted. The father of Wilbur and Lucinda was the rock star’s grandfather.
I handed the note to Josie who read it, then handed it to Chef Claire.
“Summerman’s grandfather?” Josie said.
“How about that?” I said. “He was the despicable bootlegger Mrs. Winters was talking about at dinner that night. Wow. Do you think Summerman knows?”
“I’m sure he doesn’t,” Josie said. “But his grandfather was a bootlegger.”
“Make sure you ask him about it the next time you see him,” I said, casually then realized my faux-pas. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Josie said, staring up at the painting. “And if you want to talk with him about it, you’re going to have to wait until next June. He’s leaving today. It’s the last day of summer.”
“That’s right,” I said, glancing at the painting. “I think it’s going to look great above the fireplace.”
“I think you’re right,” Josie said.
“What are the two of you doing tonight?” I said.
“I am going to curl up in bed with Al and Dente and try to catch up on some much needed sleep,” Chef Claire said. “But tomorrow we need to start thinking about the winter menu.”
“And I need to head down to the Inn,” Josie said. “I need to keep a close eye on a Lab I did surgery on today. What are you doing?”
“I thought Chloe and I might take the boat out,” I said. “We’ve a got couple hours before it gets dark. You want me to take Captain with us?”
“No, not tonight,” Josie said, reaching down to rub Captain’s massive head. “I just gave him a bath and I’d like to keep him out of the water for a couple of days.”
“Okay,” I said. “Boat ride, Chloe?”
Chloe hopped to her feet and headed straight for the kitchen door. Captain cocked his head and looked at Josie.
“Not tonight, Captain. Sorry,” Josie said, laughing.
Captain snorted his displeasure, then lowered his head and closed his eyes. Josie shook her head, then looked at Al, Chef Claire’s male Golden.
“How you doing, Al?” Josie said.
The dog glanced at her, then stood and strolled off toward Chef Claire’s bedroom.
“How long is he going to stay mad at me?” Josie said.
“I’ll talk to him,” Chef Claire said, laughing as she left with Dente trailing close behind.
“Yeah, you do that,” Josie said, shaking her head.
“I’ll see you later,” I said, heading for the kitchen where Chloe was doing a slow bounce at the door. “Okay, okay. Hold your horses.”
We climbed in the boat, and I slowly made my way into deeper water. Before I could hit the throttle, my phone rang. I slowed the boat to a crawl and put the phone on speaker.
“Hi, Mom. What’s up?”
“Hello, darling. Where are you?”
“In the boat. It’s beautiful out here. The water’s like glass.”
“Lucky you,” she said. “I’m about to go into a task force meeting. You were right, darling. This thing is a total snooze.”
“I hate to say I told you so.”
“Yes, darling. I’m sure you do,” my mother deadpanned.
“Hey, stop by tomorrow and I’ll show you the painting Caspian gave to me.”
“She gave you a painting? Do you have any idea how much her work sells for?”
“Sure. It’s around two grand a square foot,” I said, smiling to myself.
“Whatever you say, darling. I just called to give you an update.”
“Did Oliver and Brock finally confess?”
“Only to the bank robbery. And since they returned everything, their lawyer seems to think they have a good chance of getting off very lightly. As far as Buggy’s murder is concerned, they’re still denying it. Both of them are adamant they have no idea who killed him or how his body ended up there.”
“Does anybody believe them?”
“Of course not,” she said, laughing. “Not even their lawyer. But it could be hard to prove.”
“They did it,” I said. “And eventually the truth will come out.”
“Maybe. And Lucinda and Roxanne are both filing for divorce.”
“I heard. Who’s going to get the family house?”
“Caspian has told Lucinda she can live there as long as she wants. I guess it’s only fair, right?”
“Yeah. And I’m sure Caspian doesn’t want anything to do with it,” I said, waving to another boater heading toward shor.
“She’s a strange woman,” my mother said.
“Yes, she certainly is. Okay, Mom. I need to get going or I’m never going to get out of the bay before it gets dark. Stop by tomorrow.”
“Will do, darling.”
“And have fun at your meeting,” I said, laughing.
“Don’t start.”
She hung up and I slid my phone into my jacket. I sped up and Chloe perched herself on the seat that ran along the transom to get maximum impact of the cool breeze. I reached the main channel and headed straight for Summerman’s island. Fifteen minutes later, I slowed, kept a close eye on the shoal that extended off one end of the island, then pulled into an empty slip in the boathouse. I started to follow Chloe up the long set of steps that led to the main house, then stopped when I heard the sound of a piano coming from the smaller stone building that was tucked away on the edge of the is
land. I whistled at Chloe and she turned around. She trotted alongside me as we made our way to the structure Summerman called the library.
Murray, Summerman’s dog, heard us approaching and woofed loudly until he recognized us. I knocked softly on the screen door and Summerman looked up from his piano, surprised to see me. Chloe and Murray dashed off to play and I stepped inside.
“Don’t stop,” I said. “That sounded great.”
“Thanks,” Summerman said, staring down at the keys then resuming from where he’d left off. “It’s new. And I’m trying to get it finished before I leave.”
“They don’t have pianos where you’re going?” I said, casually.
“Nice try, Suzy,” he said, laughing. “But to answer your question, no they don’t. What can I do for you?”
“I just heard some interesting news I thought you’d like to hear,” I said, glancing around the room. “This is beautiful.”
“It’s my sanctuary,” he said, looking around without stopping his elaborate piano work. “What’s the news?”
“Caspian Winters told me that the father of the two illegitimate children was your grandfather.”
Summerman stopped playing and stared at me.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Interesting, huh?”
“Very. I always heard he had quite the reputation with the ladies. You believe her?”
“I do,” I said. “And why would she lie about something like that?”
“I have no idea,” he said. “But I must confess that I don’t spend much time wondering why Caspian does some of the things she does.”
“She does have some rather bizarre…proclivities.”
“Yes, I’m very aware of some of Caspian’s proclivities,” Summerman said.
“Can I ask how you know that?”
“No, Suzy. You can’t,” he said, starting to play again. “How’s Josie?”
“She’s doing better. On the mend,” I said. “But the whole situation with you pretty much broke her heart.”
“It didn’t do much for mine, either,” he said, closing the lid on the piano. “You want something to drink? Maybe a glass of wine.”
“No, I’m good, thanks,” I said. “I noticed your Gulfstream isn’t here.”
“My friend Doc has it at the moment,” he said.