by Mary Birk
Chapter 41
JACK PONDERED the best place to find his quarry. He wanted to talk to Anne Michaels, he wanted to talk to her soon, and he wanted to talk to her alone.
He remembered hearing Anne telling Grainger she had to meet some excavators, so she’d either gone over to the renovation at the Colony or the one she was doing at the Mermaids. Likely it was the Colony, but he’d try the Mermaids first as it was on the way. If she wasn’t there, this might be a good time to talk to Jeanne alone. Jeanne’s kid and Lenore were in the same class. Plus, Jeanne would know all the players in this case. She might be less wary of him and not be as careful with her answers as Anne. Maybe Jeanne would let something slip.
He parked his car in the gravel driveway, knocked on the door of the Mermaids, and heard a few sharp barks from behind the door.
Jeanne answered the door, wearing stretch jeans and a red shirt, both of which held exactly what he liked to see in a woman, at least physically, and he’d always thought that was a great place to start. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail. “Hello, Jack.” She smiled at him, then turned and gave a sharp, no-nonsense command to the dogs, after which he heard them retreating. “Are you looking for Anne?”
Friendly. So Anne must not have told her about the interview. Or at least not much about it.
“I was hoping to catch her. Is she here?”
“No, she went over to Graham’s this morning to see Andrew. After that she was going over to the Colony job.” She motioned him inside. “Hold on, let me turn off the stove.”
He followed her to the kitchen. “Yeah, I saw her at Graham’s briefly, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to her.” He tried to make his voice casual. Obviously Jeanne hadn’t heard what had happened there either.
“She has some contractors coming in today that were working on the grounds at Andrew’s, so she was going up to the Colony to meet with them—bulldozer people, I think.”
“That was my next stop. I’ll head over there.”
Jeanne hesitated, “I was making a late lunch—do you want to join us? There’s plenty.”
Jack knew she was probably just being polite, but decided to take her up on her offer. People often got more forthcoming when they were feeding you. Besides, he was hungry.
“I’d like that, thanks.” Looking around, he said, “I’ll bet this place is going to do great.”
“Thanks.” Jeanne seemed embarrassed. “It’s been quite a project getting it ready to open. Would you like a tour? Do you have time?”
“Sure, that would be great. Are your kids here?”
She lowered her voice. “Phillip is at kindergarten. The school considered closing today because of Lenore, but everyone decided it was better to keep things as normal as possible. Hannah is here—in fact, here she comes.” The curly-haired toddler ran towards her mom, who scooped her up and hugged her. The little girl looked shyly at Jack with her Aunt Anne’s eyes.
“Hi, Hannah. How are you?”
Hannah buried her blonde head in her mother’s shoulder. Jeanne smiled. “We’re being shy today. Come on in. I’ll give you the grand tour then we can have lunch. We have tomato soup and grilled cheese—Hannah’s favorites.”
Walking through the house, Jeanne kept up a steady stream of information. “We have eight rooms to rent, including the one Anne’s in right now, and there’s a suite for me and my kids on the third floor. Each of the bedrooms has a fireplace—because that was how the rooms were originally heated. I’ve had them switched to gas, of course, all except the kitchen and the parlor. No way am I dragging wood in for all these people, and also we have to think about pollution.” She pointed out of the window to the side of the house. “There’s a guest cottage, but I’m not going to get around to remodeling that right now. I’m running out of money, so it will have to wait.”
“Makes sense. See how much room you need.”
She nodded. “It’s a big place. Luckily, it’s been well taken care of—for the most part, but there was still a lot of work to do. You do things differently for a house that’s for a family than you do a house where strangers pay to stay.”
“That makes sense—like getting ready for company all the time.”
“Exactly.”
He felt himself warming to this woman. Jeanne was sure of herself in kind of an understated and friendly way. He liked her better than her sister Anne, that’s for sure. Her figure wasn’t bad either. She wasn’t quite the beauty Anne was, but she wasn’t bad. Not bad at all. He wondered how much she knew about her sister’s possible involvement in Lenore’s murder. He didn’t think she’d be as open with him if she knew he suspected Anne and Grainger. Well, he certainly wasn’t going to tell her.
After the tour was over, they ended up in the kitchen for soup and sandwiches. Jeanne put Hannah in her booster chair. “Do you think you could grab her sippy cup of milk from the fridge? It’s right in front.”
“Sure.” He went over and opened the refrigerator door. Inside, the vast appliance looked organized and full of all the foods he never had in his pathetically under stocked refrigerator. Jeanne’s refrigerator looked like a home’s refrigerator should look. What the fuck was a sippy cup? Ah, he spotted it. He pulled out the little pink cup with the plastic top and took it to the little girl.
When they were all settled in with their lunch, Shelton asked, “So, what did you do Saturday night when everyone else was at the party over at the Colony? You weren’t there, right?”
“Not me. I was here with the kids.”
“Were you still up when Anne got back?”
“Are you kidding? I can’t remember the last time I stayed up even till midnight.”
“But you heard her come in?”
Jeanne shook her head. “I don’t bother to listen for her. She’s a big girl, and she always comes home in the middle of the night when she stays with Andrew.” She looked at him suspiciously. “Are you trying to see if Anne has an alibi or something?”
“Just double-checking everything, you know, standard procedure.”
Her face was skeptical, but she didn’t say anything.
“Don’t the dogs bark when someone comes?”
“Sure, a stranger. Not Anne.”
He might as well take the plunge. She was already on guard. “What about the next night? The night before she found Lenore?”
“You mean was she here?”
He nodded.
“She was. We ordered pizza and talked in the upstairs sitting room while the kids watched movies. We waited up as long as we could to see if there was any word of Lenore, then we went to bed.”
“And Anne stayed here all night?”
“Of course.”
“But you wouldn’t have heard it if she went out.”
“No, but why would she? You must know she didn’t go to the Colony. Where else would she go? I know Andrew called her a couple of times, wanted her to come over, but she didn’t go. The last time was about eleven, I think.” Then she seemed to remember. “And Anne said Terrence called her. Late. Like one or two, I think.”
“He did?”
“Yes, on her cell. Why all these questions about Anne?”
“I’m just checking things out.” They were interrupted when Shelton’s cell phone rang. He looked at the screen. It was Reid. “Do you mind if I take this?”
“No, go ahead. I’ll get Hannah cleaned up.”
“Reid? What’s up?”
“Just thought I’d let you know I talked with Will Kempton this morning.”
“Oh?” Shelton bit back a wave of annoyance. Reid wasn’t going to go away.
“At Andrew’s request.”
“Right. Learn anything?”
“Not much. I’ll give you my notes, unless you want me to go over it with you right now.”
“No, I’m in the middle of something. I’ll meet you at the Ship’s Tavern. Five, right?”
“Right. If it hasn’t changed from last time I was here, they have some prett
y good ale on tap.”
“I’ll be ready for that. I’ll have McLendon meet us, too.”
“Aye. See you then.”
Shelton found Jeanne and said his goodbyes. “I’ll try to catch Anne over at the Colony. Thanks for the lunch.”
“That was Terrence?” Jeanne didn’t try to hide her interest.
“Yes. We’re meeting for a drink later.” He thought of something. “He’s staying here?” A guess, but he could tell by Jeanne’s face that he had got it right.
Jeanne nodded. “Just don’t make him late for dinner.”
“You’re cooking?”
“Not for him. He’s meeting Anne for dinner at the Landing.”
Interesting. Apparently Anne was sleeping with both men. “I won’t hold him up, I promise.” Apparently the whole family was okay with this strange arrangement between Anne and her husband and her boyfriend.
“Good. Come by when the place is up and running and you might get something fancier than grilled cheese and tomato soup.”
“Hey, I’m with Hannah—grilled cheese and tomato soup are my favorites.”
Jeanne smiled and saw him to the door. He drove away and waved to the woman holding the little girl on her outthrust hip.
So Anne had no alibi except Grainger for Saturday night or the night before the child’s body was found. If it weren’t for the molestation angle, she’d be a suspect on her own, but with that in the picture, the two of them most definitely were top of his short list. Hell, they were his short list.
Chapter 42
ANNE NOTICED with considerable dismay the man whose feet were planted as if in stone by the garden house. What was Jack Shelton doing here? She finished her conversation with the backhoe operator and headed toward the FBI agent, lifting off her yellow hard hat, letting her hair fall down. Shelton waved at her as if he hadn’t been such an asshole last time they’d talked.
She didn’t speak until she got near enough to him for her voice to carry over the sound of the excavation machinery and the wind, using the time to compose herself into her ice princess persona. “Are you looking for me?”
“Sure am. I went to the Mermaids first. Your sister was kind enough to give me lunch and a tour.”
“She loves giving that tour, so I am sure she was only too happy to feed you to have a captive audience.” Anne tried to let him know with the tone of her voice that he should not feel like he had been treated specially. He might sound friendly, but he was a total snake. She should have told Jeanne to be careful of him, but she’d been too embarrassed to tell her sister the things he’d said to her. “What can I help you with? Is there any news?”
“Can we go someplace to talk? This wind makes it hard to hear.”
“Follow me.”
She walked ahead of him to the garden house. He followed, but didn’t try to talk to her until they got inside. Jack seemed momentarily fascinated by the display of drawings and diagrams, along with photographs of the original gardens, that covered the walls.
He whistled in apparent appreciation. “This looks complicated.” If he was trying to soften her up, he was doomed to fail. She wasn’t going to forgive him. Not ever. Not after she’d found out that Terrence had heard the recording of the interview. Neither was she going to let him know he’d rattled her. But she couldn’t resist letting him know that she wasn’t some bimbo given the job just because she was sleeping with Andrew.
“I’m trying to recapture what Beatrix Farrand did originally, and sometimes it takes more work to re-create a garden to its original specifications than it would to create a brand new garden. This is one of those times. Plus I have to incorporate all the outdoor art that’s been added since the original gardens.”
“Sounds like a lot of work. When will you be finished?”
“By April, if all goes well.”
“Then what?”
She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. None of your business, she wanted to say, but just kept her face cool and impersonal. “Do you want coffee, tea? The coffee’s instant.”
“No, nothing, thanks.”
“I’m going to have some tea.” She plugged in the electric tea kettle and put a tea bag into a cup. “What did you want to talk about? I think I’ve told you everything I know.”
“I wanted to thank you for letting us take the DNA samples.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Andrew’s DNA results were interesting.”
She raised her eyebrows with polite disinterest but she didn’t trust him any further than she could kick him. Which she dearly wanted to do. “Oh?”
“Grainger hasn’t called you?”
“No. I’ve been outside. I didn’t take my cell with me. Reception’s bad and it’s too hard to hear.” She gestured to where the phone sat on the work table. “So what was interesting about Andrew’s results?” She kept her face unsmiling.
“Turns out Andrew wasn’t Lenore’s father.”
The electric tea kettle whistled and Anne unplugged it. She poured water into her cup and let the tea bag steep. When she finally trusted herself to speak, she made her words measured and deliberate. She was not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her lose her temper. “This is one of those police tricks to try to get people to say something incriminating.”
“I was surprised, too. It wasn’t even something we were looking for. It just jumped off the pages at us.”
Anne took the tea bag out of her cup and threw it in a wastebasket next to the counter. She picked up her mug and went over to the chair in front of her worktable.
“Did you tell Andrew?”
Shelton took a seat in one of the other nearby chairs. “Yes. He said he didn’t know.”
“Then he didn’t. Why is it important? Do you think it had something to do with her death? Or are you just trying to destroy his faith in his dead wife?” She knew her voice sounded cold but she didn’t care. The man was a jerk.
“We have to look at everything—especially everything that doesn’t fit. It may not have anything to do with what happened to Lenore, but we have to consider it.”
Anne sipped her tea and looked at him coolly, waiting for him to continue. Her mind was reeling. She needed to check the messages on her cell, she needed to talk to Andrew, but first, she needed Jack Shelton to leave. Anne made a show of looking at her watch, but Shelton didn’t take the hint.
He asked, “What was Andrew’s relationship with Lenore like?”
“They were close. She was a happy little girl and she loved her daddy, and he loved her.” She put down her mug. “What possible motive could he have to kill his daughter?”
“Who knows? Maybe she was too much trouble?”
“That’s ridiculous. Even if he minded, which he didn’t, he had plenty of help taking care of her. I never even saw him be so much as impatient with her.”
“How was your relationship with her?”
“Good.”
“Good how?”
“I was dating her father, and I was her Aunt Meg’s sister. I’ve known her at some level most of her life, more since I started seeing Andrew, of course.”
“Did you know Marisol Grainger?”
“Not really. I’d met her a few times. We were sometimes in the same places during the holidays after Meg and Graham got married.”
“Were you involved with Grainger before he married Marisol?”
“I told you before I didn’t really even meet him until Meg married Graham.”
“How about after he was married?”
She looked up in surprise; she hadn’t seen that coming. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t have, and besides I wasn’t even around. I was in college and didn’t get up here much.”
“Any chance Andrew might have felt Lenore was in the way of his relationship with you? Maybe he thought you didn’t want children?”
Anne flinched. Surely Terrence wouldn’t have said anything like that to Jack Shelton, and she knew Andrew wouldn’t have. Shelton had to b
e guessing.
“I was very fond of Lenore.” She went over to the electric teapot and refilled her mug. Dipping her used tea bag in and out of the hot water, she went back to her seat.
Jack said, “You’re marrying Grainger?”
“Andrew told you that?”
“He told me he’d proposed.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t accepted. Besides, I’m still married to Terrence.”
“But you two are getting divorced? Or annulled or something?”
“That’s none of your damned business.”
“So just what did you mean?”
“I meant I couldn’t accept anyone’s proposal. I’m married.”
“But you can sleep with other men?”
“We’re separated.”
“Reid’s staying with you over at the Mermaids, though, isn’t he? In your bed?”
She sprang up, spilling her tea. “That’s none of your business, either. Why aren’t you out there looking for whoever did this, instead of harassing Andrew and me and going on tours with Jeanne?” Damn. She’d let him make her lose her temper. She wiped up the tea with a paper towel while she tried to recover her calm.
“There is a very real probability that whoever did this knew Lenore. At the very least, they had access to the house.”
An idea flashed into Anne’s mind. “The keys—the keys from the kitchen that are missing. Someone could have gotten in if they used those keys.”
“If someone took the keys—if that’s how the murderer got in the house.”
“You mean if it wasn’t Andrew, or me, or someone else close to her.”
With no preliminaries, Shelton said, “Lenore Grainger was sexually molested.”
“What?” A cannonball of lead dropped into Anne’s stomach and her head spun. “Oh my God, poor Lenore. Have you told Andrew?”
Shelton eyed her clinically, but didn’t answer her question. “You also should know that it had been going on for some time. Long before she was killed.”
A buzzing began whirling around her head, zapping her brain with electric shocks. Lenore? Bile rose in Anne’s throat and she fought the urge to spit it out.