“As a matter of fact, in a few weeks. I’m coming up on May fourth with a friend. He’s driving to Augusta to visit his son at the medical college.”
“He? How good of a…‘friend’ is he?”
“Kristy Franklin, behave yourself! I’m a recent widow, remember?”
The woman quipped, “Yeah, yeah, but who is he?”
“Jason Burkman is a close friend and he’s also my physician.”
“So,…how old is he? Is he married? Is he a hunk?”
Cass laughed and playfully accused, “You haven’t changed at all, girl. He’s forty-two, widowed, and divorced—in that order—and he’s gorgeous.”
“Wow! Do I get to meet him if I promise to keep my big mouth shut and my opinions to myself?”
“Of course you’ll meet him when he drops me off at your house, but we’re only friends, so don’t be disappointed or try to play matchmaker. Better check your calendar to be sure that date is available. I know how busy you get with the children’s activities during springtime.”
“If it’s filled, I’ll cancel anything scribbled in that slot, or Jerry can take over for me. Now, tell me about you and what you’ve been doing.”
Cass glossed over the last thirty-one months in an attempt to play down the luxurious lifestyle her marriage had afforded her. It wasn’t because Kristy would be envious or jealous; it was to avoid having to talk about her deceitful husband in any kind of detail.
“Are you really doing okay, Cassie? The news reports said the police were investigating the cause of the accident as if it were suspicious.”
Cass told her about “Mutt & Jeff” and their hunger to make a big case out of a tragic accident so they could win attention.
“I bet you were scared when they questioned you.”
“I was a little intimidated at first, but they wore thin on me pretty fast and I gave back as good as I received. Tom’s son and our lawyer say the matter will be cleared up and the file closed soon.” Before Kristy could ask more questions about Tom, she said, “I hate to end our talk, but I have a new housekeeper and this is her first day, so I need to check on her.”
“Good, that other one was a snot every time I spoke with her! I’ll call you again soon and I’m eager to see you, and to meet your Jason.”
“I’ll hang up before that naughty syndrome returns. ’Bye, Kristy. It was wonderful talking to you at last. See you soon.”
Jason called Cass around four o’clock. Since he was in a rush between patients, they didn’t talk long, and neither even hinted at their romantic interlude yesterday. He wanted to make sure she was doing all right, and to tell her he could see her tomorrow night for a short visit, because he had a medical dinner meeting tonight and it usually ran late.
Before she hung up, she invited him to eat a light meal with her when he came over. He accepted the invitation without hesitation.
At five o’clock when it was time for Mary to leave, Cass told her what a splendid job she had done that day.
“Look around and see if I missed anything or didn’t do something the way you like it; then tell me about it Thursday morning.”
“Everything looks wonderful, Mary, and I’m glad I found you. Now, scoot along home and join your husband. See you Thursday.”
“Good-bye, Mrs. Grantham, I mean, Cass, and thanks.”
Later that evening, Cass returned Linda’s call from yesterday. During their short conversation, Linda told her about her new job that would terminate next Wednesday and suggested they get together for a day of fun on Thursday before she started a new assignment on Friday. Cass said that was wonderful and she looked forward to their visit and outing. When Linda asked her how Peter was doing, Cass responded that he was fine and would return home from a business trip on Wednesday.
After finishing their talk, Cass decided she should not interfere with any possible relationship between them, as Linda was an adult and it wasn’t her place to intrude on her friend’s personal life. Even so, Cass resolved she wouldn’t say or do anything to encourage a romance between them, as she was certain Linda would get hurt; she couldn’t imagine Peter having a serious interest in any woman who wasn’t wealthy and a member of his social status.
Tuesday morning Cass answered the phone to hear Detective Adam Beals—“Mutt”—on the other end. He made an appointment with her for one o’clock and told her, “I have good news for you, Mrs. Grantham.”
After lunch, Cass opened the front door to let in Adam Beals and his partner, Carl Killian—“Jeff.” Now that her wits were clear, she realized why she had tagged them with those nicknames: one was short, stocky, flush-faced, beady hazel eyes, and auburn hair; the other was a tall and thin brunette; and both men—almost sloppily dressed—were in their thirties.
As she guided them into the living room and asked if they wanted a cola or coffee, she almost blushed in recall at how she had behaved toward them the last time, but she didn’t draw attention to it by apologizing. “What can I do for you gentlemen today? You said you have good news for me?” Beals was the one to respond, and not how she expected.
“Your stepson is mighty protective of you, isn’t he? After our last talk, his lawyer contacted our captain and told him we couldn’t bother you anymore unless it was necessary and he was present. Said you were ill and under a doctor’s care. You seem fine now, right?”
“I’m much better, thank you; and I didn’t think it was necessary for Mr. Johnson to be present today.” She sensed the man was stalling, so she pressed, “What is your good news?”
“We finished the background checks, except for Mr. Grantham’s ex-wife; we couldn’t locate her; heard she’s living in Europe or someplace. You wouldn’t happen to know where we can reach her, would you?”
“No, but you can ask Peter when he returns tomorrow. As far as I know, neither Tom nor Peter have had any contact with her for years. Why do you need to speak with her?”
“Just checking out any and all possibilities. We talked with his friends, associates, and employees, but nobody gave us anything useful. I’ve already told your stepson the airbag removal was illegal, but nobody will ’fess up to taking it out. His mechanic knew it was missing a long time ago and warned Mr. Grantham about it. You and your stepson told me neither of you knew about it being missing, right?”
“If I had known, I would have insisted it be replaced, and I’m sure Peter would have done the same thing,” Cass affirmed. “I do recall Tom telling me about some of the negative aspects of air bags, such as the fact some people had been injured badly when their bags opened. Perhaps those fears were why Tom wanted his removed, but he didn’t tell me he had done so. In my opinion, the man who removed it is partly responsible for his death.”
“You’re right, but that person’s identity remains a mystery. I suppose a rich person can find somebody willing to do just about anything for him or her for the right price, don’t you think? Getting to the brake failure, the car was so badly mangled, we can’t tell what really happened and we still don’t know what caused him to wreck. We do know he either never tried to stop or couldn’t, because there weren’t any skid marks on the highway, and he was traveling at a high rate of speed. The line that carries the brake fluid either ruptured during or was severed before the crash. The strange thing is, there weren’t any signs of fluid on the ground under the vehicle, which would have been the case if the crash caused it. Without fluid in the brake line, there was no way he could slow down or stop before the crash. The mechanic said he hadn’t worked on the car for over two weeks prior to the incident and the brakes were working fine then, but he didn’t see anybody messing with it while your husband was out of town.”
“As I told you before, Tom didn’t allow anyone to drive or touch his car except his mechanic. As for somebody tampering with it during his absence, I don’t see how that’s possible since it was kept in a tall fence with a barbed-wire top and a ferocious guard dog on duty. As for all of that mechanical stuff about brakes and fluid, I don
’t know anything about cars in that area; I depend on my dealership to keep mine serviced and repaired when needed. Tom did like to drive fast, but I’ve never known him to be reckless or careless or to drive while drinking. Whenever we partied, in or out of town, he always hired a chauffeur and limo. If I understand you correctly, it’s rare but not impossible for brakes to fail in that manner and cause an accident?” she asked, using the word accident, which Beals seemed determined to avoid.
“That’s about the size of it. Since we can’t prove foul play, the boss says we have to halt the investigation because it’s taking too much time and money and we ain’t doing nothing but butting our heads against a brick wall. We’re going to file his folder, but we ain’t marking the case closed just yet. I guess you know by now, your insurance company won’t make a settlement until we rule it an accident; they don’t pay off in murder cases. From what I understand, yours will be a big settlement since he had a double-indemnity clause for accidental death.”
Cass knew about the insurance hold-up from Peter and their lawyer. She corrected the smug Beals by saying, “Non-payment applies only if Tom was killed by a beneficiary, which he wasn’t. Is there a time limit for you holding open a case without evidence to support your suspicions?” She noticed Beals’ annoyance at her for seeming to call his clever hand.
“You could say there is. I know you want this matter resolved fast, so if you think of anything, call us. Either your husband had a tragic accident or somebody’s gonna get away with coldblooded, premeditated murder, unless a clue is dropped in our laps soon.”
“If Tom was murdered, which I don’t believe he was, I hope you find and punish the person who’s responsible.”
“I hope so, too, because I don’t like loose ends, and this case strikes me as having at least one or two. A man without enemies, odd, very odd.”
“As I told you before,” Cass began in an attempt to emphasize his stubbornness and redundance in certain areas, “if Tom had any enemies, I don’t know about them.”
“Why did he bring Miss Lowery to town with him?”
“I don’t know; you’ll have to ask her or Peter, but I think it had to do with a new advertising campaign for the seafood company. She’s a model.”
“We know, but we can’t reach her; she’s out of the country for the next month on an…assignment, I believe her agency called it. I did want to ask her a few more questions to clear up some hazy areas that clouded up after we let her leave town before those clues popped up. You can’t think of anybody who hated him for any reason? I mean, for any reason?”
Cass didn’t know why Beals stressed those last two words, and hoped they hadn’t learned about Tom’s dark secrets. Perhaps it was wrong of her to withhold that information, but she was positive it had nothing to do with his death, and revealing it would open a horrible scandal that would taint her image as well as his. She had suffered more than enough because of Tom’s wicked actions, so she kept silent. Besides, if it was pertinent, hound-dog Beals would track it down and attack it!
She remained poised on the exterior as she looked Beals in the eye and said, “No, sir, no one. Of course, I traveled very little with Tom after we moved here early last October; if he made someone that angry since then, he didn’t tell me about it. That isn’t unusual since I had nothing to do with his business matters, just as I assume your wife isn’t informed of your work. Since you have explanations for the two points you originally thought were suspicious, exactly what is it that keeps nagging at you?”
“I just find it mighty strange—unbelievable, you could say—that a rich, powerful, and handsome man like Mr. Grantham didn’t have any enemies; at least, that’s what everybody’s been telling me since day one.”
Cass focused an odd look on him. “Are you saying that if Tom was poor, ugly, and unimportant, no one would have a motive to kill him?”
“Not exactly. But everybody has an enemy or two, right?”
“I have no way of knowing that answer, and I certainly hope I don’t have any. I suppose there might be a few people who disliked Tom, perhaps even intensely, but not enough to kill him.”
“How did you and your husband get along?”
Cass eyed him as she mentally charged that his phone call about delivering “good news” had been a ruse to disarm her and get her alone with the hope she would drop that “clue” he wanted so desperately so he could keep the case open. “We got along fine. Why?”
“I’m sure you’re a very wealthy woman now, right?”
She realized the man rarely answered her questions and instead posed another one to her. She wondered if he had access to a copy of Tom’s will and her prenuptial agreement. “I’m very comfortable, thank you. Tom was a smart businessman, so he made certain I would be taken care of.”
“Did you know about the terms of his will before his death?”
Cass’s tone was edged with light sarcasm as she responded, “Would it be normal for a husband to withhold such important facts from his wife? Would you do that?”
“I’m just a hardworking common man, Mrs. Grantham. I don’t even have a will; don’t have enough to leave behind to justify paying a lawyer to write me up one.”
“Everybody should have a will, sir, especially a husband and bread winner…May I ask, do you resent us because we are wealthy?” Beals looked surprised by her bold question, but composed himself with haste.
“Why should I?”
“I don’t know, and you shouldn’t, but your manner and attitude imply that to me at times. Do you keep pressing this case, even though you’ve been told by your superior to close it, because so much money is at stake and solving a murder mystery could make big news for you? Is that why you keep hoping it will turn out to be—What did you call it?—’foul play’?” She saw Beals scowl at her, but Killian remained stonefaced and silent.
“Just doing my job, Mrs. Grantham, and going on my gut feelings. If you’ve got nothing to hide, you’ve got no reason to be nervous or worried, and you’ve got no reason not to cooperate fully with us, right?”
Cass frowned at him. “That’s precisely what I meant, Detective Beals; you added that last sentence to make a point I dislike. I have to disappoint you, because I was not involved in any form or fashion in my husband’s death; that is what you’re asking in what you mistakenly think is a clever roundabout way. Please feel free to keep digging for answers to resolve your doubts, but I insist you stop subjecting me to your insinuations. I find them improper, impolite, and cruel; and I’m certain Mr. Johnson and your chief would feel the same way. If you don’t believe what I’ve told you, I’m certain there’s nothing more I can say or do to change your mind.”
“I do have one last question,” the detective shot out. “Why did your husband put in that crazy stipulation about your remarriage? That’s a new one on me.”
Two disturbing questions shot through her mind like bolts of lightning: Does the offensive man think I have a secret lover and Tom knew about him and that’s why he added that “crazy” provision? Does he think we killed Tom or had Tom slain for his money and my freedom? Cass related the explanations about the trust fund and remarriage restriction which Peter had told her about almost two weeks ago. She hoped he believed them because she didn’t. Afterward, she added, “Besides, if I remarry in the future, I won’t need Tom’s money for support, and it should revert to Peter as his only child. Tom’s son has more of a right to the Grantham estate than my next husband would, if I wed again.”
“You’re seeing Doctor Jason Burkman now; isn’t that right?”
Cass stared at him, but concealed her sudden tension. “Are you spying on me?”
“Just checking out all the angles. That stipulation was odd, and you surely inherited more from his death and will than you’d have gotten with a divorce and that prenuptial you signed. Isn’t that right?”
Cass straightened in her chair and glared at him. “I don’t like your insinuation, sir, and it’s groundless. Jason Burkman is
my physician and he’s a close friend. He’s been treating me recently for…a health problem. He’s also been trying to get me out of the house to help me deal with my grief. Is that a problem for you?”
“I thought David Hines was your doctor. He’s the one who told our captain you weren’t in any condition to be questioned. Was I wrong?”
Cass explained why she had switched her medical care to Jason Burkman. “I’ve had dinner alone with Dr. Burkman one time since Tom’s death, so what do you mean by, am I seeing him now?” If he called her bluff about it being twice, at the Cloister and his home, she would pretend she had forgotten one time in her provoked agitation.
“Why would you think I was suggesting something… lewd?”
“If that weren’t true, sir, you wouldn’t have mentioned him in the way you did. I see no reason for you to outright lie to me and then insult my intelligence by claiming I misunderstood you. It’s as obvious to me as the nose on your face that you tricked your way into my home by using the ploy of delivering …‘good news’ as you called it on the phone, when all you intended to do was interrogate me in private without my lawyer being present. I have been more than patient with your cunning tactics and have cooperated with your absurd investigation. If you disagree, take me to your station and let’s speak with your superior. Otherwise, this meeting is over, and I’ll escort you to the door.” She stood and headed for the foyer with the two men trailing her and Killian apologizing for upsetting her. She opened the door and stepped aside with a stern expression on her face.
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