A Composition in Murder (A Cherry Tucker Mystery Book 6)

by Larissa Reinhart

  “Tell her I’m Miss Belvia’s new assistant.”

  The girl gaped. “But ma’am. Mrs. Brakeman? You know? Passed?”

  “I’m a predeceased hire. But still recent.”

  I saved her the trouble of calling and rapped on Lisa Russell’s door. The office phone buzzed. The girl babbled. Lisa Russell let me in. With a healthy dose of suspicion.

  Seemed Belvia hired more besides me based on that personality trait.

  Lisa Russell also looked as competent as Belvia Brakeman. Of course, she was younger, but she had the power suit, intelligent countenance, and brisk no-nonsense attitude that spelled Brakeman material.

  Just like the attitude Molly had before Belvia’s death, I thought. Poor Molly.

  “How are you possibly a new hire for Belvia?” Lisa demanded. “I run HR and all hires go through me.”

  Lisa Russell liked to cut to the chase. I did too. But I couldn’t let Lisa Russell know she’d made Belvia’s list of possible murder suspects.

  “I had a personal relationship with her, ma’am. I admit I fudged the explanation to your assistant, but she seemed in need of a simpler answer than I was prepared to give.”

  “What exactly are you doing for Belvia?”

  “I’m protecting her interests.”

  Lisa blew an irritated sigh out of her nose. “And what do you want from me?”

  “For Belvia, I’m also protecting Molly Kern’s interests. She’s having some issues with Coralee Brakeman wanting to put her back on the job. Molly’s distraught with these deaths. She’s in no position to return to work.”

  “Of course not. Molly must be in her eighties.”

  Thank the stars I wasn’t the only one who thought passing the three-quarters-of-a-century mark should get you out of hard labor.

  “But,” Lisa continued, “I have to be careful about age-related suits. Her age is not a factor in whether she can do the job.”

  “Jiminy Christmas, aren’t there any elderly labor laws? Or do we only protect children from overwork?”

  Lisa’s forehead crinkled. “Is that a joke? Because legal issues are no laughing matter.”

  “If only they were.” I sighed. “Molly doesn’t want to work. I asked Donna Sharp to see if she could help out.”

  “Donna no longer works here.”

  “That’s what Donna told me too.” I gave Lisa a chance to fill in any details, then gave up waiting. “She said y’all would get a temp?”

  “That’s standard practice.”

  “So what can I do about Coralee Brakeman bugging Molly? Is there a phone number and name I can give Coralee?”

  “Coralee is not an employee of Meemaw’s Tea. She may own some stock, but she isn’t on the board. There’s no reason to give Coralee any information.”

  “She’s trying to get Molly to put together a board meeting or something.”

  “Preposterous.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s still happening. And I’ve got to do something to make her leave Molly alone.”

  “Restraining order?”

  Now she can make a joke. Some comedian. But only at Coralee’s expense. Did I detect some anti-Brakeman hostility? “I take it Coralee isn’t welcome to step into her sister’s shoes?”

  “Is that what Coralee told you she was doing?” Lisa’s voice sharpened.

  “Coralee hasn’t told me anything. But here she is. Prodigal daughter and whatnot.”

  “Prodigal, my ass. Pardon me.” Lisa’s fair features reddened. “But that’s all I need. Another Brakeman trying to interfere with our growth.”

  “Didn’t Della and Belvia want growth?”

  “Of course, they wanted revenue growth. But they wanted change through internal, not external, growth.”

  “External like going public? I saw your interview in the Investor’s Business Daily.” Where she had publicly criticized the founder and president.

  “Changing from a private company to a public corporation is an example of external growth. So is a merger.” Her chin rose. “And bringing in fresh talent. Family companies can be successful, but they can also stagnate without new people.”

  “I guess you can implement your ideas now.” I studied her reaction. “Unless Coralee gets involved.”

  She glanced away.

  “What happened on the day Della died?”

  “Nothing.” Her eyes snapped back to me. “I already talked to the police. What’s going on here?”

  “Just curious. Such a tragic accident. Maybe Della was distracted by something at work and didn’t see the car.” I forced a carefree tone and smiled. “Can I tell Molly Donna will be replaced soon?”

  “I already said that,” she snapped. “Did Coralee send you?”

  “And I already said I’m not involved with Coralee. I’m helping Belvia by helping Molly.”

  “I don’t know why Molly would be worried about Donna. Molly hasn’t worked since her sister died. That was like six months ago. Although I never did understand why Belvia kept her on so long. But then I never understood why Belvia herself didn’t retire. Now look at her.”

  “Yep, now she’s dead.”

  “That’s rude.” Lisa flicked her eyes toward the door. “Get out. I’m busy. I don’t know why you’re bothering me with Molly’s problems. She doesn’t work here.”

  I left with a wave for her beleaguered assistant. I hadn’t learned much except Lisa Russell’s convictions remained consistent with her interview in the financial papers. However, I was still surprised. I assumed the person in charge of people would be more of a people person.

  In the corporate world of sweet tea, I felt out of my depth. A family-values company built on antagonism and backstabbing. If Belvia’s heart attack was truly a heart attack, it was no wonder she had one. Despite her age.

  Kind of soured the sweet tea, in my view.

  I found my way to the Director of Accounting’s office. Here I expected a cold, calculating (literally, he was in accounting after all) financial despot. Instead, David Wells had an office full of fully clothed teddy bears. He also liked to wink and chuckle. I watched out for elbow nudging and found my way to a chair before his desk.

  Bears in various states of historical dress peered at me from the wooden bookshelves and filing cabinets. Which, I’ll admit, made me nervous. I’ve never been partial to dressed animals. It’s unnatural. They’re already wearing fur.

  “A friend of Belvia’s is a friend indeed.” David leaned back in his leather office chair and rocked as he talked. “I’m sorry for your loss. She was a great woman.”

  “That she was. And I’m sorry for you and the company too. I’ve got no stake in Meemaw’s Tea—not even a single share—but before she died, Belvia charged me with a task to complete at the time of her demise. Checking on the management. To see how y’all are doing for a report for the new CEO. Of course, we don’t know who that’ll be yet…”

  “You’re visiting all the management?”

  “Yep, I just came from Human Resources.”

  David stiffened and the rocking halted. “You talked to Lisa?”

  “Yes.” I watched him glance at one of the bears, then return to rocking his chair. I could still feel his tension but had the feeling I could work this conversation in my favor. He wanted to play ball, either to make himself look good for the report or, knowing Lisa, to make a better impression than she had. “When Belvia insisted I do this job, she had just lost Della. Of course we had no idea Belvia would also pass away so soon.”

  “It’s a great shock. Belvia and Della. At one time. I don’t know how we’ll recover.”

  “Is the company in trouble?”

  “Not yet. But I’ve been comparing valuation ratios and looking at the internal rate of return.” David tilted forward a
nd placed his hands on his desk. “There’s been some decline since Belvia’s retirement announcement. With Della’s accident, even more fluctuation. And finally with Belvia’s death, I’ve seen a sharp downward spike. It’s not good. We’ll need strong leadership to recover. But I know what to do.”

  He glanced at a bear wearing a suit, glasses, and a tie. “Isn’t that right, Milton?”

  “That’s...too bad.” I had no idea what he was saying. Milton the bear didn’t help me either. But unlike Lisa, David wasn’t revealing any antipathy toward the Brakemans. “What do you think will help?”

  “Short term, to stay the course Belvia had mapped out. To soothe our investors, suppliers, and purchasers. What we don’t want is sweeping change.” He looked at Milton for reassurance.

  “And long term?”

  “I would propose leadership from within. But leadership in tune with the original culture of Meemaw’s.” David winked. “We don’t want to become the next Snapple. Snapple is already Snapple.”

  “I see.” Which I didn’t, but I also didn’t talk to stuffed bears. “Do you and Lisa Russell differ in opinion on what will happen to the company?”

  David’s chuckle sounded forced and it didn’t result in a wink. “You could say that.”

  “And what about Coralee Brakeman? Now that she’s back, maybe she wants to get involved in her family’s company.”

  “I didn’t even realize she was interested in the company. She’s been gone so long…” He turned from Milton toward a bear in a white wig and long coat. “Adam would say she should be given a chance. Exercise benevolence toward Coralee. She is, after all, a Brakeman.”

  “And do you agree…with Adam there?” I pointed toward the bear in the old-timey wig.

  “I’d like to talk to Coralee first. After all, you have to consider the shareholders.” David turned from Adam to me. “She may also align herself with non-Brakeman values. Who knows?”

  “What if she aligns herself with Lisa Russell?”

  All good humor and love of bears fled from David’s features. “Human Resources may block me from serving the Brakeman vision for Meemaw’s Tea because of petty differences. But if Lisa Russell tries to exercise her influence to undermine the Meemaw’s Tea foundation?” He glanced at another bear, this one wearing an old-fashioned scholar’s robe and curly hair. “I don’t know what I’ll do, Malthus.”

  I shivered. David spent too much time alone crunching numbers with his bears. Maybe he missed the “human link” to the Brakemans. “It sounds like you were aligned with Belvia and Della’s ideas. In the news, you said you had strong feelings about leadership changes at Meemaw’s Tea. Did Belvia and Della support your ideas?”

  He seemed surprised at the question. “Of course. I’m sure they did. I was against Lisa Russell’s push to bring in outsiders.”

  “Do you think they wanted to promote you to COO? Before Della died, I mean. She’d planned on becoming CEO and her old position would need to be filled. Although I guess it still does.”

  “I hadn’t heard officially, but—” He winked. “I think I was the best candidate. And I’m prepared to take on CEO now too.”

  “You don’t know for sure how they felt about you?”

  “They knew I supported their vision.” He pulled at his neck collar. “They weren’t the best at communicating their feelings. But not to their discredit.”

  “Some of the board members were often visiting Belvia at Halo House to vocalize their ideas. You weren’t one of them?”

  “I visited, but not to push ideas. It wasn’t necessary. I didn’t earn my promotions or get on the board by being pushy.”

  Pushiness seemed to be a Brakeman prerequisite. And they admired strength. David Wells wanted to climb the corporate ladder by being nice? It didn’t make sense. “How did Lisa become director and on the board if she was in blatant opposition to Belvia’s authority?”

  His nose wrinkled. “Lisa’s the type who could get away with criticizing authority at Meemaw’s.”

  “What type is that?”

  “She’s a woman, isn’t she?”

  And on that note, I thought I’d best leave. Before I did something to one of his bears.

  Between the Brakeman family values and the Brakeman hiring principles, Belvia and Della might have created an anti-Brakeman Frankenstein. Weak men and bullish women abounded. Finding someone who benefited from their deaths was too easy. Lisa wanted to make money off the company by selling it.

  David thought he deserved to take the reins through his commitment to the Brakeman cornerstone. Had he heard otherwise? Neither had been thrilled that Coralee Brakeman was interested in dipping her toes in the sweet tea pond. After such a long hiatus, they didn’t consider her a viable Brakeman.

  And were those motives enough for murder? That was tricky. I wondered what ripples I had caused by chunking that stone in their pond.

  Sixteen

  After meeting the other Meemaw’s Tea staff on Belvia’s list, I learned they neither cowed to Lisa Russell nor the Brakeman women but seemed appropriately committed to their jobs and families. In other words, none of them set off my suspicion meter. However, I didn’t cross off Lisa Russell or weird David Wells like I did the others. I also kept Donna Sharp, the unhappy homewrecker.

  Despite Belvia’s beliefs about a snake in her company grass, in my opinion, the most obvious motives for murder lay within the Brakemans themselves. Particularly those who thought the new will might mess with their inheritance.

  Not knowing who stood to gain or lose by terms of the new or the old will made me anxious to meet the lawyer, Harry Hunt. He was also on my list but did not return my calls. Seemed like a good reason to shift focus to the Brakemans for now. As much as they made my lip curl.

  Cooper Funeral Home might bury a few birds in one shot. Coop knew everything about everyone. It was his job. Particularly when he was hosting that family’s funeral. I’d help Molly, learn more about the Brakemans, and have an excuse to do something with Todd. Todd loved getting mixed up in business that wasn’t ours and didn’t bother with the law-and-order side like Luke did. He would visit Cooper’s with me, particularly if he knew it was a Brakeman fact-finding mission disguised as funeral assistance.

  I drove the old Datsun home, thinking of Todd and the adventures we’d been through. Not including our failed Vegas wedding. I needed to find someone for Todd. Someone who had a bloodline who didn’t run from vile and scheming.

  Which meant not Shawna Branson. To be fair, I should also find someone for Shawna. Someone who lived in real far away country. Like Japan.

  At 211 Loblolly, I parked next to Todd’s Civic in the drive, skirted the junk in my carport, and banged open the kitchen door.

  “I’m home,” I announced. “And I’ve got plans for us. You’ll never guess where we’re going—”

  My words dropped from my lips and fell at the feet of the vile and scheming person whom I had spent my drive wishing away from my best friend.

  “Do you always overstate the obvious?” Shawna’s overplucked brow rose a fraction as she turned in her chair.

  My chair. My kitchen chair. Her zebra-printed butt was planted on my flippin’ kitchen chair.

  Dear Lord, I thought, if I hitched my wagon to Luke’s, our children would be step-related to this woman. We’d have Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter with Shawna.

  Every year.

  Every holiday I’d be staring at Shawna’s animal-printed tushie. Blood pounded in my ears and my stomach rolled.

  “We could hear you banging through the drive before you slammed in here,” she continued. “Folks three streets over know you’re home.”

  I peeled my stare off her zebra derierre to meet her blue-green eyes. A color I liked to call Jezebel Jade. “Yes, I’m home. In my house. My Great Gam’s bungalow
by way of my Grandpa Ed.” I unclenched my fists and placed them on hips lacking the soft man-bewitching roundness that graced my kitchen chair. “And since this is my home, Shawna, I am wondering what in the hell you are doing in it.”

  “Ask Toddsers. I thought it was his house too.” Tossing her thick auburn hair over her shoulder, she turned to face the Man Who’d Betrayed Me.

  At least Todd had the decency to blush and avoid my fiery look.

  “Toddsers,” I drawled. “May I speak to you in my living room?”

  I dropped my drawing satchel on the counter and stalked into the living room. Once my professional studio before the hyena wearing zebra ran my business into the ground in order to push forward her own.

  Shawna doesn’t even paint. She colors over photos.

  Todd slunk in behind me. “I know you must be a little surprised.”

  “Surprised?” I laid a hand on my chest. “Don’t you mean shocked? Flabbergasted? Galled? Kicked in the flippin’ gut? What in the hell is going on, Todd? I was about to invite you to Cooper’s Funeral Home, but now I don’t know what to think.”

  “As fun as visiting funeral homes can be, I can’t go.” Todd scratched his head. Troubled lines skated his normally smooth worry-free forehead. “You see, I kind of have another date.”

  “Another date? You just had one. How many dates do you need?”

  “I can’t say.” His fingers abandoned the brain massage to tap a pattern against his cargo shorts. A pattern that might have been an SOS signal. “Shawna showed up here a little while ago and asked me out.”

  I blew out a sigh. “That’s different. You weren’t expecting her. Let her down easy. I don’t want her throwing anything. It’s not like I have the money to replace furniture or appliances.”

  “The thing is, I already told her yes. Meaning, I’d go out tonight.”