by Jessica Beck
“Good-bye,” the attorney said, and then he was gone.
My mother started in on me the moment Adam Jefferson left. “Was it wise to antagonize him like that, Suzanne?”
“I was just interrogating a possible suspect, Momma.”
“You did more than that. If he was the one who killed my sister, you just alerted him to the fact that we suspected him of the crime.”
“Momma, that brick through the window pretty much told us that whoever did it knows that we’re after them. It’s time to push harder now, not let up. I look at the message we got last night as a good thing.”
“I don’t see how you can possibly say that.”
“Think about it. We managed to get under the killer’s skin if he risked sending us such an overt warning. I’m taking it as a good indication that we’re getting closer to uncovering the truth.”
“So, we’re acting as though we are firemen, is that it?”
“I don’t follow you,” I said.
“As normal folks are running away from the flames, the firemen are running towards them.”
I thought about it, and the analogy fit beautifully. “I’ve never considered what I do in that light, but I like it. One of my favorite authors defined bravery as showing courage in the face of fear.”
“Then we must be very brave indeed,” Momma said. “So, who do we push next?”
“I say we go down the list. After Hank has the glass installed, we need to poke him a little as well. Are you up for it?”
“You shouldn’t even have to ask.” After a moment, she asked me, “Have you heard from Jake since you two spoke last?”
“Not yet, but I’m sure that he’s still working on getting us some reinforcements up here.”
“And you don’t think that it would be wise to wait for that outside support?”
“It probably makes perfect sense,” I said, “but I can’t stand idly by while a killer goes free, especially one who has robbed us both of someone so precious to each of us. Even you have to admit that no one else has the kind of incentive that we do to catch the killer.”
“There’s an even bigger reason to flush them out than that, now,” Momma said.
“What’s that?”
“To protect your life. You heard what Adam Jefferson said yesterday. If you don’t survive the next few days, our murder suspects each get what they’ve been coveting all along.”
“But you heard him. Aunt Jean’s supposed fortune is mostly just smoke and mirrors.”
“Perhaps, but do the tertiary beneficiaries know that?”
“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to educate them as we speak with them,” I conceded. “The least it will do is get that target off my back.”
“That’s assuming that they believe us in the first place,” Momma said. “Greed is a powerful force, and that’s what appears to be motivating most of our suspects.”
“We’ll just have to do the best that we can to convince them,” I said as I heard a truck door slam outside. As I walked back to the front door, I said, “Unless I miss my guess, that will be Hank Caldwell. Follow my lead, okay?”
“I can’t imagine doing anything else,” she said.
There was only one problem.
Hank was there, all right, but he wasn’t alone.
Chapter 19
“Ladies, this is Greg Raymond,” Hank said as he introduced the young man he’d brought with him who was helping him carry a large glass pane. “He’s here to help me install your new window glass.”
“Hey there,” the tall and gangly teen said as he bobbed his air once up into the air.
“Let’s just set it down here against the wall,” he instructed his helper. “Easy there.”
The glass had looked as though it was about to slip, but somehow Greg managed to keep it steady enough to ease its leading edge onto the floor. Once they had it safely leaning in place, Hank made short work of removing the plywood.
“That sure lets in a lot of light,” I said once the wooden barrier was gone.
“That’s what windows do,” Hank said.
I assumed that it would be a matter of just sliding the new glass in place, but Hank set about doing a lot of prep work on the opening so the space would accept the new window. As he worked, he said, “You know, you’d get a lot more energy efficiency out of this if you used double pane glass.”
“Then it wouldn’t match the rest of the house, would it?” I asked.
“No, but no one would notice.”
“I would,” I said. “If the new owners want to change them out, that’s certainly their prerogative, but I’m leaving things exactly the way I’ve found them.”
“I can respect that point of view,” Hank said. After a few more last-second touches, he said, “Okay, we’re ready.” As he reached for his end of the glass, he said, “Greg, remember what I told you earlier. Nice and easy, okay? Don’t try to jam it into place. It’s a delicate job, but I know that it will fit.”
“How can you be so sure? The glass looks way too big for the opening to me,” his helper said.
“I know because I was careful when I took my measurements,” Hank said patiently.
They each picked up their respective sides of the glass and slid it gently into place without a hitch. Greg started to let go when Hank said, “Keep pressure on it while I attach the points and putty that holds it into place.”
“Okay. I just didn’t want to get any fingerprints on the glass,” Greg said.
“Don’t worry about that now. We’ll clean it before we go,” Hank said. Finally, he finished the job. As he stood back to admire his work, he said, “You can let go now.”
“Are you sure?” It was clear that Greg wasn’t all that convinced.
“I’m positive. You’ve got to learn to trust me if you’re going to keep working for me.”
The assistant pulled his hand back, but he kept it hovering near the glass just in case it managed to fall out after all that Hank had done to secure it. When he saw that it wasn’t going to move, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Boss, do you mind if I take my break now?”
“That’s fine with me,” Hank said. “I’ll join you in a few minutes by the truck.”
“Got it,” he said, and then after a wave good-bye, he was gone.
Hank immediately began apologizing for his assistant. “Sorry about that. Greg is my sister’s kid, and I hired him as a favor to her. Boy, it’s true what they say. No good deed goes unpunished, you know?”
“I think it’s sweet of you,” I said.
“Maybe,” Hank replied as he lightly buffed the glass surface. “There you go. It’s as good as new.”
“Thank you for your prompt service,” Momma said as she reached for her checkbook. “What do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it. You can pay me later,” Hank said.
“Nonsense,” Momma said. “I pay my bills promptly and in full. Is it the same price as the quote you gave me earlier?”
“Right on the nose,” Hank said, and Momma wrote him a check that covered the new window and the hasp replacement.
As she handed the check to him, she said, “We spoke with Meredith Pence last night.”
Hank looked at her suspiciously. “What were you doing at the library?”
“Trying to confirm your alibi,” I told him.
Hank shook his head in obvious disgust. “I can’t believe that you actually checked up on me.”
“You shouldn’t feel all that special. We confirm everything we’re told,” I said.
“So, did I pass?” he asked, clearly confident that Meredith would cover for him as he’d asked her to do earlier.
“As a matter of fact, she told us that you slipped away for awhile, but that you didn’t want anyone to know that you were gone.”
His face reddened when he heard that. “So what if I did? There’s nothing sinister about it. I can’t believe that she told you that, after she promised not to say anything to anyone.”
“
Don’t blame her. We were very persuasive,” I said. “So, where did you go?”
Hank looked at me with open contempt for a moment, and then he just shrugged. “You’re not going to let it go until you find out, are you?”
“We can’t afford to,” I assured him.
“Okay. What I’m about to tell you is said in strictest confidence. You can’t share it with anyone else, do you understand?”
“If it doesn’t pertain directly to my aunt’s murder, we’re willing to agree to that.”
He looked surprised by my condition. “What are you talking about? Jean fell. Everyone knows it.”
“We believe that she had a little outside help,” I said.
Hank looked genuinely surprised by that idea. “I had breakfast with Chief Kessler this morning and he didn’t say a word about that to me.”
“Perhaps that’s because he doesn’t agree with us,” I said.
“He might be a small town cop, but he’s good at what he does,” Hank said in the police chief’s defense.
“That remains to be seen,” Momma said. “We’re still waiting for your alibi, the real one this time, if you don’t mind.”
“I was with Sasha Usher,” he said softly.
“Why is that such a secret?” I asked him.
“Her husband, Harry, doesn’t know anything about it.”
My mother’s eyebrows both shot up. “Indeed.”
“Before you get the wrong idea, nothing’s happened between us, at least not yet. Sasha’s been planning to leave him for years. I told her I wouldn’t get involved with her until after she made a clean break from Harry.”
“And did she agree to that?” I asked, amazed about the complications we uncovered in some people’s lives.
“That’s the problem. She’s promised me that she’s going to leave him for the past two months we’ve been talking about trying it together.”
“Hold on. I thought you were seeing my sister,” Momma said.
“It was never exclusive; she made that plain enough to me from the start. Jean wanted things casual between us, no matter how much I tried to make our relationship more serious. It finally got through to me, so I started looking a little harder at some of my other options. Sasha moved from the back burner all the way to the front when Jean spurned me the last time.”
“How pragmatic of you,” Momma said, the condemnation thick in her voice.
Hank shook his head. “Think what you will about me, but I never did anything with Sasha that I would have been ashamed of doing at a picnic in the town square in broad daylight.”
“You understand that we’re going to have to speak with Sasha before we mark you off our list of suspects, don’t you?”
He shook his head in disgust. “Don’t you believe anything anyone tells you? Don’t drag her into this mess.”
“If she confirms your story, we won’t have to breathe a word about your involvement with her,” I said, “but if you contact her before we speak with her, we’ll know, and I guarantee you that things will escalate after that.”
Hank laughed a little. “Is that a threat?”
“No, it’s a promise. You don’t know this, but my boyfriend is a state police inspector. If I point him in your direction, it’s not going to be a pleasant experience for you.”
“Ask her, then. Just don’t do it in front of Harry,” the handyman pleaded.
“What was the pretense for your last visit?” Momma asked him. “I’m assuming she ‘hired’ you to do odd jobs for her around the house.”
“How did you know that?” he asked her incredulously.
“Please, your job description offers you the perfect cover for visiting married women in their homes in the middle of the day without arousing suspicion.”
Hank clearly didn’t like the implication of what my mother had just told him, but he didn’t deny it, either. “She had a problem with her washing machine that I was supposed to be looking at,” he said.
“I’ll just bet she did,” I said. “Where can we find her?”
Hank glanced at his watch, and then he said, “Most likely she’s at home. Harry’s at work, so now would be the perfect time to go over there.”
“And you won’t warn her that we’re coming, is that correct?” Momma asked.
“I promise not to contact her,” he said. “Now I’d better get going. It’s hard to tell what kind of trouble Greg has gotten himself into in my absence.”
After Hank and his assistant were gone, I said, “Grab your car keys. We’re going to go confirm Hank’s alibi.”
“Suzanne, do you honestly believe that this woman is going to admit to us that she’s planning to leave her husband for our handyman?”
“That’s the beauty of it. All we have to do is hint at what we know and I’m willing to bet that she’ll come clean with us.”
“Why do you say that?” Momma asked me.
“I think it’s pretty clear that she’s not going to leave her husband,” I said. “If she were, she probably would have done it by now. That means she’ll want us to keep her little secret about her plans with Hank, and we can use as that as leverage.”
“It’s all a little tawdry, don’t you think?”
I nodded in agreement. “It’s a lot tawdry, but what choice do we have? We don’t have a lot of time to find Aunt Jean’s killer, and we can’t compel anyone to talk to us like the police can. We have to use the tools we have and do our best to make things happen.”
“We’ve certainly accomplished that, haven’t we?”
“Time will tell,” I said as we locked up Aunt Jean’s house and headed over to Sasha and Harry Usher’s house to find out if we finally might be able to mark a suspect’s name off of our list.
Chapter 20
“You must be Sasha Usher,” I said when she answered her door. The middle-aged woman was a good twenty pounds over her ideal weight, and all of it had been used for some pretty impressive curves. Her dark roots were showing, but most of her styled hair was a bold shade of striking blonde. Hank had given us her address, as well as instructions on how to get there.
“I’m Sasha,” she said curtly, “but I’m not interested.”
“In what?” I asked.
“Whatever it is that you’re selling,” she replied as she started to close the door.
“We’re not here for commerce,” my mother said. “We’re here because of Hank Caldwell.”
That caused Sasha to hesitate. “What about Hank?”
I looked around the empty street, pretending to see crowds that clearly weren’t there. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable discussing this inside?”
“I don’t even know you,” she said guardedly. “I’m not about to let you into my home.” Clearly she hadn’t always been that picky about who she let inside.
“That’s easy enough to fix. I’m Suzanne Hart, and this is my mother, Dorothea. We were related to Jean Maxwell.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sasha said automatically. “I don’t suppose it would hurt to give you a few minutes of my time. Come in.”
We walked inside, and to my surprise, the place was nothing like I’d expected. Instead of flowery furnishings and muted pastels, the living room was sleek and modern, with bold color choices and futuristic furniture. “Please excuse the interior, but my husband fancies himself an amateur decorator.”
“It’s absolutely lovely,” I said, and in its own way, it was, but like Sasha, it wasn’t to my particular taste, and I was happy that I didn’t have to live there.
“Would you care for some tea?” she asked us. Sasha was ever the good hostess, but I had a hunch that was all about to change.
“Thanks, but we aren’t staying. We just need to know one thing.” I let the statement hover in the air for a few moments, hoping that her own imagination would fuel her anxiety. Fortunately, Momma picked up on what I was doing. We were slowly learning to be a team, and I found myself enjoying the interactions with my mother despite the reason w
e were investigating together.
“What is it?” she finally asked us with dread.
“Was Hank here with you the morning my aunt had her accident?” I asked. There was no reason to muddy the waters with Sasha and disclose that we knew that it was murder.
“Why, did he tell you that he was?” she asked. The woman was clearly upset now. Were her secrets about to be exposed?
“He told us that he was here to look at something for you,” Momma said.
“He was,” she said in obvious relief. “I thought my washing machine was dead, but it turned out to be a false alarm. I’m so silly about those types of things. I don’t know what I’d do without Hank.”
I had a hunch, but I wasn’t about to say anything. “Now, tell us the real reason that he was here,” I said.
Sasha looked at me guiltily, and I wondered how she’d managed to conceal her duplicity from her husband for so long. Was Harry that dense, or was he just in love with his own wife? In some cases, that could turn out to be a fatal flaw, but I doubted that Sasha would ever kill him, though I was pretty sure she was going to break his heart someday, and for some folks, that would be a fate even worse than death.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she said, her voice cracking a little as she said it.
“The request is simple enough to answer,” Momma said with that firm voice she often used when she chided me. “We know what you are planning to do, and we could expose your secrets to the world if we choose to, so it is best if you answer our question without any more hesitation or denial.” I felt as proud as a mother bird watching her little fledgling take flight for the first time, and it occurred to me that my mother had the potential to be better at this than I was.
“Like I told you before, he was here looking at my washing machine,” she said softly. “He wasn’t here for more than a minute or two.”
Momma nodded. “Very well. If that’s how you choose to represent what happened, then we have no choice but to pursue this matter further.”
Momma started to get up, but she didn’t get far before Sasha stopped her. “Okay, there was more to it than that, but nothing happened between us. It was all talk. I swear it.”