Intrusions

by Barbara Winkes

  In the time since Jordan had studied up on Gerald Ashcroft, he struck her as many things—careless wasn’t one of them. Besides, there was the matter of someone switching those pills for something far more dangerous. “At this time, the investigation doesn’t support that theory,” she said vaguely.

  “If he got a new diagnosis, I wouldn’t be surprised that he didn’t tell anyone, not even Snyder. They’re friends, but Dad was very…private.”

  Given the fact that they would spend at least another hour in the car together, Jordan decided to humor him.

  “Do you have any reason to assume he might have seen another doctor? Did he mention it to you?”

  Ashcroft kept his gaze on the road.

  “He seemed…I don’t know, worried, stressed. Of course, sadly, I didn’t interpret the signs correctly. I think he was more fragile than he wanted all of us to believe.”

  That had not been the ME’s interpretation, and Jordan was wondering why he wanted her to believe in it. Linwood had expected to take over the company, obviously. While he now owned a third, it wasn’t going to be as easy as he might have thought. If he wanted his siblings out, he would have to buy them out.

  “I guess you have a lot on your mind now, with the company and all,” she ventured.

  “Oh, tell me about it. I don’t know what he was thinking, and to be honest, that makes me wonder about his mental health as well. All those charities…Whatever you think about it, we all know why he did that. Craig couldn’t be trusted with money unless he had someone standing behind him, and Abby…Well, you know. She’s not the most reliable person. This is going to be a constant tug of war with the two of them, and Craig will probably feel entitled since Dad was all up with those people who supported his dysfunctional lifestyle. What about you? Are you any closer to solving this? I mean…The more I think about it, the more I believe the department’s resources aren’t used the way they should be.”

  Ranting on, he hadn’t noticed Jordan cringe at his use of the term “lifestyle.”

  “I still can’t believe this was anything other than a sad accident. Dad probably meant for the stairs to get fixed a while ago, but Santos screwed that up. It was late at night, and he maybe got confused…Things happen at that age.”

  Jordan’s sympathies were more with the dead man than with any of the people she found didn’t seem to grieve all that hard.

  They stopped for an early lunch on the way, and, half an hour later, arrived at Ashcroft’s cabin, though the term was a bit of a euphemism, given the size of the two-story building.

  It occurred to her that with all the luxury Ashcroft was surrounded with, he might have been pretty lonely. Then again, she knew firsthand that blood didn’t always define family.

  She spent most of the next hour going through every room, shadowed by her host. There were two glasses in the kitchen sink, one of them with a smear of lipstick. That was almost too easy. Fortunately, not every criminal was that clever, or taking precautions to cover up the crime they committed.

  Ashcroft frowned at the find. “I’m not aware that he was seeing anyone. Santos got all googly-eyed in his presence, but other than that…”

  Jealousy? Someone begrudged Ashcroft’s wealth, him being well liked by everyone, his good health and possibly, a relationship. In any case, it was interesting that the housekeeper seemed to be more broken up about his death than anyone else.

  There was an office with a huge desk, insurance papers scattered all over it. The memory on the phone showed that Ashcroft had placed calls from it to several companies.

  “I don’t understand,” Linwood said. “He had people who would take care of that for him. Why would he do that?”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Jordan said as she jotted down the numbers. “We’re going to ask them.”

  “You can do that? How do they know it’s the police?”

  “I won’t get that kind of information from the call center staff that’s there on the weekend. There’s a procedure, but we will get our answers eventually.”

  “Oh, good. It’s a fascinating job you have.”

  “It sure is.”

  She watched him open drawers and leaf through the papers inside.

  “It looks like your father did a fair amount of work from this desk.”

  “No, most of these papers have to do with private matters.”

  A day planner caught Jordan’s eye, and she picked it up, looking up the dates when Ashcroft had been in town for the last time. The pages were empty, save for one: Dr. T.

  “Dr. T. You have any idea who that might be?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  “Okay.”

  “That’s all? You’re not going to follow up on that?”

  “Oh, we will, don’t worry.”

  At this point, Jordan wondered who profited most from this little detour, and the scavenger hunt that was unfolding here.

  * * * *

  Ellie enjoyed the drive into the rural, higher situated area, though she was still convinced it was a place for vacation rather than to live full-time. She found that a few hours worth of distance from the current problem had done wonders for Jordan, making her more relaxed.

  It was still early in the day, and the drive along mountains and glittering lakes made her want to stay for a while longer.

  “I’m sorry, I have to make a few calls and drop some things off at the lab. Another time,” Jordan promised. “It’s really beautiful.”

  “So how did it go?”

  “Interesting. I’m pretty sure someone wanted me to go up there and find exactly what I found. It was too easy, pretty much all laid out for me.”

  “You think it was him?”

  “Could be. Or someone else wanted to plant a little distraction.”

  “What if all those hints are legit, with or without someone pushing them on you?”

  “I’ve thought about it. We’ll know more next week. I believe that most of the people I need to talk to now won’t be there on the weekend.”

  “Yeah, that’s the only reason Kate could be convinced to go away…She’s been working with a detective on that missing person case. No sign of life.”

  Between the two of them, she didn’t need to say anything else. They all knew this wasn’t good.

  “How are you doing?” Ellie asked. “You’re still okay with what you decided?”

  “I guess. You all convinced me that it’s for the best.”

  “Whatever happens, remember I’m here, okay?”

  “I know,” Jordan said.

  * * * *

  The weekend was gone too soon, and instead of a breakfast at Kate and Ellie’s, Jordan made do with a latte to go before she went to see Mrs. Santos. The housekeeper was still living at the mansion and probably would be for a while to come—Ashcroft had made sure that she could continue her duties even with new inhabitants.

  She was wearing black again, her hair in a severe bun. It was obvious that she’d been crying.

  “Mrs. Santos, I know you already answered a lot of questions. I won’t take much more of your time.”

  “That’s okay,” she said, her voice heavy with tears. “I’m glad someone’s willing to talk to me at least. The siblings usually look down their noses at me.”

  “Is that so? You’ve worked for their father a long time.”

  “Don’t think they care. I heard them talk behind my back, whispering about whether I was working here legally. My mother was born in this country, and so was I. Of course, they never even bothered to ask, because when they came to see Gerald, it was always all about them, and the money they needed.”

  “Did he ever talk to you about these matters?”

  “All the time. Dr. Snyder might pride himself in saying he was his best friend, but Mr. Ashcroft was different. He might have been in that old boy’s club, because he came from old money, but those men weren’t really his friends. Gerald was cut from a different cloth, kinder, of a more progressive mind than
any of them. Nevertheless, he had to host them sometimes. He would share with me after those occasions that he was disgusted by most of it.”

  “I assume they would take issue with some of the charities he gave to?”

  “You could say that. Look, my niece is a lesbian too. At first I wasn’t sure what to think about it, but Gerald and I had long talks, and he made me see that if you love someone, it doesn’t matter at all.”

  “Did he ever take you to the cabin?”

  Mrs. Santos hesitated.

  “This is not a trick question. I’m just trying to see if there’s anything you might have seen or overheard that could help us. You cared for Mr. Ashcroft a great deal, I know.”

  Unexpectedly, Mrs. Santos started to cry, and the next moment, Jordan found herself in an awkward embrace.

  “It isn’t fair,” she sobbed. “We were supposed to have so much more time together.”

  “I’m sorry. You went with him the last time?”

  “Yes. He was really worried about his offspring, as usual. Abby wanted money again, and someone in the company he had asked to take a look at things, found some irregularities in the books. It was all starting to add up.”

  “Could you give me the name of that person?”

  “He said Chris. I assume he meant Coburn, who was working in the same department. He was over a few times.”

  “Thank you. Do you know if he saw a doctor while you two were there?”

  Mrs. Santos stepped back, a surprised look on her face. “No, not one word. Of course he could have…He left for town a couple of times, but I’m certain he would have told me.”

  “Okay, thank you so much. I’d like to take one more look around, and then I’ll be gone.”

  “Suit yourself. I guess I need to call someone about those damn stairs.”

  Jordan spent another moment taking in the damage on the “damn stairs,” before she drove to the department. A call to the lab confirmed that they had found the same set of prints on the glass with the lipstick stain and the day planner, Santos, Ashcroft, and another yet unidentified print on the planner.

  Could there have been another woman? Maybe the kind older man had been a bit more of a player than they all assumed.

  It seemed like everyone was telling their private little version of the truth, none of them giving her the big picture.

  Darla Pierson had called her and asked to meet. Her former CI was now back in school and pregnant. Things were turbulent, but a lot more promising for her. Jordan was looking forward to seeing her.

  She picked up the phone, intent on calling Kathryn and confronting her with an ultimatum right this moment, but reconsidered. For this, she needed more of a plan.

  “Hey, why don’t you invite her over to our place?” Kate suggested, confusing Jordan for a moment until she realized Kate was talking about Darla. “We could all have dinner together.”

  Ellie and Kate had been guarding Darla at the hospital when she was in danger from an infamous crime lord. Darla might actually enjoy seeing them again, and Jordan would resign to the fact that those little gatherings were the new normal.

  Her wish had been granted—she still had her own space. Those were small compromises, in comparison.

  She wondered if Derek and Kate might have other plans at some point, but it was certainly too early to ask. For sure, she wouldn’t let Ellie be homeless.

  “Sure, I’ll ask her.”

  “Cool. I like the Night Shift, but it’s different from the Code 7. Lots of memories connected to that place.” Kate didn’t continue, but looked very thoughtful all of a sudden.

  “Takes some time,” Jordan said. She didn’t need more words to convey she understood that in the past months, they all had lost a lot more than a favorite hangout.

  * * * *

  Gerald Ashcroft’s funeral attracted a sea of mourners, even more than Officer Jensen Baker’s, the last one Jordan had to go to. The memory was creeping up on her. The rain. Bethany, nearly making a scene, and always close by but quiet and nearly invisible next to his father, Danny Roth, watching them, studying, choosing his victim.

  Carl Roth had been a well-liked officer, and the Code 7 was famous in the city, not just among cops. His son was an academy dropout who had blamed his failure on everyone but himself.

  She focused her thoughts on the present. Whoever had wanted Gerald Ashcroft dead, it was very likely that this person was here among them.

  Jordan noticed Abby and Craig sitting together with her daughter, Linwood in the same pew, but a bit further away next to the aisle. Mrs. Santos was in tears, as many of the attendants. Tamara Lyndon went over to Craig and Abby, and they spoke in hushed tones, their expressions serious. Linwood was watching them with interest.

  He was the only one of the siblings to speak, and when he did, Jordan thought she detected a note of condescendence that irrationally angered her. It wasn’t something she needed to care about, but it bothered her that Linwood showed this subtle disrespect for his father, for the legacy of creating hope for others who were less fortunate. Many representatives of charities had come to offer their condolences.

  Linwood’s wife sat stiffly next to her husband. Jordan had an idea of where she was coming from—Linwood’s attitudes certainly didn’t come from his family, so maybe his in-laws had made a difference. If that was the case, it hadn’t deterred Gerald Ashcroft from giving to LGBT charities.

  “Our father was a very giving man,” Linwood said. “Sometimes, even giving too much.”

  That was probably not how he meant it to come across, but to Jordan, it sounded like complaining on a mighty high level. A third of the company and all assets within the house, plus the 300K would probably still leave him with more than his law firm made.

  In the end, though, he was the only one who didn’t have a financial motive.

  Regardless of what Linwood had said, Jordan had asked Ellie to do some inquiries on her own and find out who could be the mysterious Dr. T. in Ashcroft’s agenda. If someone had gone to all the trouble to present her with an elaborate puzzle, it would be interesting to see how the pieces fit together.

  After the funeral, she and Derek went to see Chris Coburn, who, according to Mrs. Santos, had shadowed Craig because of suspicions his father had.

  Coburn looked around nervously before he closed his office door behind them.

  “I hope we can make this quick,” he said. “In fact, I would prefer if no one even knew I talked to you. Now that Gerald’s gone, I worry about my job here.”

  “Why is that?” Derek asked.

  “What do you think? I’m sure Craig is already suspecting that I was the one who told Gerald about the recent irregularities. I tried to ask him if he had anything to do with all that shit—sorry about that.”

  Jordan, whom the apology was directed at, gave him a mild smile.

  “Don’t worry. Please continue.”

  “Anyway, there were some unaccounted sums, and I told Gerald about it. He was pretty heartbroken, but told me to let it go, and that he’d talk to Craig. I’m pretty sure he could tell where that was coming from.”

  “How recent?”

  “A couple of weeks ago?”

  Gerald Ashcroft had left shortly after for his trip to the cabin. To think about his next steps?

  It looked like there was more they had to ask Craig about. Had the confrontation taken place after his father returned, and it got out of control? No. The setup with the stair showed premeditation.

  They were back on the way to the department, where both the lab and Ellie hopefully had some results. Derek interpreted her sigh correctly.

  “Don’t you wish it was the homophobic one?”

  “Yeah. But you can’t arrest anyone for being an ass.”

  “True. Too bad sometimes.”

  * * * *

  Jordan thought about the lab results confirming Mrs. Santos’ prints on both the glass and the agenda, and those of someone else besides Ashcoft’s. Had Mrs. Santos not bee
n aware, or was she lying? Jordan passed by Ellie who had been diligently making calls and crossing names off a list.

  “Nothing so far,” she said apologetically. “I widened the radius a bit, but there aren’t that many Dr. T’s to begin with, and the ones I spoke to, have never met Mr. Ashcroft.”

  “Thanks. Keep trying?”

  “I will. Dinner with Darla tonight?”

  “As long as nothing comes up, yes.”

  “Have you called Kathryn yet?”

  “There was no time.” At least, that wasn’t an excuse. “I’ll do it on the weekend.” Maybe.

  Odd that it was harder to confront her birthmother than her criminal biological father, but that’s the way it was.

  “We have to keep going,” she said. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

  * * * *

  “I can’t help thinking you’re showing a bit of a homophobic streak. Or are you so desperate for leads that you’re grasping at straws?”

  Jordan ignored Craig’s accusation. “You only gave us bits and pieces of the truth, that’s hardly a straw. You said those problems were in the past, and you and your father worked them out, but we’ve been told about recent occurrences. Is there anything you want to tell us about those, about the conversation you had with your father?”

  “There was no conversation,” Craig said angrily. “I hate to agree with Linwood on this one, but you’re harassing my family. Please stop, or you’ll hear from my lawyer.”

  “That’s interesting. Linwood was very forthcoming. He invited me to come to the cabin.”

  “That’s because you’re an adult female, Detective. For Linwood, that’s all it takes.”

  Jordan caught Derek’s jaw drop, and she gave him a shrug. No, Linwood hadn’t shown the slightest interest.

  “You look surprised, Detectives. You really didn’t know that he’s been cheating on his wife from day one?”

  “Your brother’s moral conduct is not part of this investigation.”

  “But mine is? Yes, I had problems in the past. I took money out of the firm to help out Abby after Dad refused to invest in her business. I can legally do that, there’s nothing wrong with it. I can show you the paperwork. I’d be very interested in who wanted to tie this to my old problems. I went to therapy for years. I did tell you the truth, I don’t gamble anymore. Is that all?”