“See,” Abbey said. “Listen to Ms. Kimball. She’s always right.”
“Maybe,” said Camilla. She sat silently for a few seconds and then stood up. “You’re probably right, Mrs. K. I’d better get back to work. Thanks for coming over. I feel better after listening to you. But I’ll never forgive that rotten banker as long as I live.”
“I’d better get back to work too,” Grace said.
Abbey grabbed Grace’s coat and held it out, meanwhile saying to Camilla, “That’s something you’d best leave unsaid.” She looked at the steaming pot of coffee on the table, confusion on her face. “And now I guess I should put this pot of coffee back.”
Grace looked past Abbey at her partner. “Don’t worry, Camilla. Time will take care of this. Glad I could help.” She turned to Abbey and said, “I’ll send you my bill in the morning.” They laughed, and Grace walked slowly to the front, where the cash register sat, waiting for the business day to begin. As she passed the table where Abbey had been working before the brouhaha began, Grace glanced over and noticed the light-blue writing paper Abbey had been using, and a black pen lying next to the paper.
She paused momentarily and then thought, Stop being so suspicious, Grace. Blue paper is very common around here. Anyone can buy it at several stores.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Yes, I have been checking in with Emily every so often,” TJ said, as she folded up her napkin and pushed away the plate, which had held a warm piece of Lettie’s mouth-watering, stomach-filling apple pie. “She is amazingly naïve about many things in this day and age. But, despite the ankle monitor, I am being won over to the Grace Kimball ‘we take in orphans and widows’ philosophy. Did you ever have students you wouldn’t defend against the onslaught of the criminal justice system?”
Grace stopped to think a minute, and finished the last bite of her pie. “Well, I’d have to ponder that, TJ. I’ve already lost a few to the dark forces of the prison system, but—thinking back on their high school years—it’s probable, but sad, that they are in the place they were destined to be. My first few years, I thought I could save them all, but I found out I couldn’t.” She set her fork down on the dessert plate and paused for a moment. “You don’t remember Farley Young. He was one of the kids I had early on. When I threw him out of class, he slammed my door so hard I thought the glass would break, and he called me so many awful names that I had to ask another teacher what a few of those words meant. Then he dropped out of school, got married, beat his wife and was jailed for that, robbed a few places and was caught. Next destination: prison. When he got out, he came back and started a meth factory in an old house outside town. It didn’t quite turn out like the television show. One night the whole place blew to high heaven with him in it. Actually, it’s the closest to heaven he probably got.” She picked up their plates and walked over to the sink. Then she turned. “So, what is winning you over with my Emily?”
“Your Emily?”
“I tend to think of her that way. She has quite a hard road ahead of her.”
“A few things have happened that should clear the way for Emily, at least financially. How ironic that Conrad’s money will now allow her to live as a free woman . . . well, assuming she is not found guilty of his murder. I’m looking at other possible suspects. And,” she added, helping Grace with the dishes, “the will was read yesterday—Monday—at the lawyer’s office. Emily inherits the estate—the house and his various holdings—and a trust is set up for the children. She also gets the life insurance, with the children as secondary beneficiaries. But should anything happen to Emily, the trustees for the children are Will and Darlene. I have to say, my suspicions of Emily grow weaker as time goes by. This sheds a whole new light on the possibility of Will as a suspect.”
“So does this help Emily’s case?”
“Somewhat. It gives me additional people to investigate. I am still not leaving Sandra Lansky out of the picture. She’s quite a piece of work, and her arrival in town is fortuitous in light of the murder.”
“Ah, so the Grace Kimball-trustworthy-albeit-naïve-understanding-of-her-students comes through again.”
“Well, let’s not get all excited here. Like you said, Emily has a long road to go yet.”
“So, who else is on your radar, TJ?”
“I’ve been working on Abbey and Camilla. Camilla could have been the woman who went into the bank and threatened Conrad.”
“Are you kidding? How could anyone disguise Camilla?”
“I have to admit it’s a long stretch. But this morning that thought got weaker too. The lab tests came back from the sample of the potting soil she uses in her restaurant. Remember the murder scene had some dirt which could have come off the gloves of the murderer? Unfortunately, it wasn’t her potting soil. On the other hand, her letter to Conrad was very specific about him ‘cutting his own throat’ by not giving them a loan. I stopped in and talked to them.”
“And?”
“Camilla’s still angry, although I think her desire for revenge has been satisfied with his exceptionally bloody death. She has talents that might lend themselves to the details of the murder scene. She’s good with electricity, knows alarm systems, and doesn’t lack for nerve.”
“Do you think they plotted this somehow together? Abbey and Camilla?”
“Not sure.” She sat down at the kitchen table and poured some more wine into each of their glasses. “I might have said so a few days ago, but they have a lot to lose if they did something this stupid when they’ve just started their business. That’s enough anxiety.” She drank some wine and added, “Grace, I’m not so sure I understand their relationship with this new employee, Sandra Lansky. They are her alibi. Supposedly they all three got drunk that night, and Lansky stayed over and slept it off at their place. Lansky is a real question mark. Why did she suddenly show up here? Maybe she isn’t involved at all? Or, if she is, what’s her role in this whole situation?”
“Didn’t she say she was visiting a cousin?”
“That’s what she said. So far, however, I haven’t been able to find any evidence she has any family ties here whatsoever. I’ll have a talk with her. Something about her just doesn’t quite seem true. Call it my BS detector.”
They sat in silence for a moment, drinking the last sips of the wine. Then Grace said, “By the way, after I cleaned Emily’s house, I thought I should mention she doesn’t do house plants. She says she’s good at growing weeds in the garden.”
TJ sighed.
“Did you stay at The Depot long enough to hear how the gossips in town look at Emily now? I’d ask Lettie, but she was gone by the time I got home,” Grace said.
“The more people pass rumors about Conrad and his spousal abuse, the more the tide seems to go in a positive direction for Emily. Of course, he did make quite a few enemies through his banking practices, and some of those people are starting to remember that. Could be gender-specific—women cheering her on, even if she killed the bastard. But, it seems to be fifty-fifty at the moment. That’s considerably better for Emily’s sake than it was. I was surprised to hear a few of the comments mentioned by some of the road crew clearing the snow up on the north end of Main Street. They have no love of bankers who beat their wives. The latest I heard was that the folks in town say Emily may be wise to use the ‘scumbag defense,’ since it’s what they think he was.”
“Did you listen to the messages on Emily’s phone last week?”
“I did. I even recognized a few of the voices, and I had a word with the good folks who left such charming words for her. Don’t think she’ll get more of those. The word has gone out. I suppose they could disguise their voices next time. But, I think those may stop.”
Suddenly, TJ’s phone played “Glory Days,” and she pulled it from her pocket. “Yes, Myers.” Grace watched as TJ listened carefully to what the policeman said. “All right. I’ll call her back.” Then she listened again. “I’ve got the number. Thanks.”
She looked up
at Grace. “Emily called the station looking for me. She isn’t paying much attention to what her brother-in-law said about talking to the police only with a lawyer around, is she? Anyway, I have to call her back. Do you mind?”
“No, go right ahead. I’ll just stack the dishwasher.”
Grace began clearing dishes and rinsing off bits of their supper as TJ walked out to the study to call the Folger home. Her heart was lighter, and she thought, Thank goodness people in town realize they didn’t know the whole story. Just looking at Emily makes a person sure she could never have killed her husband. She couldn’t even stand up to him in a good argument. Wiping off the kitchen counter, or what was left of it after Del had taken most of it away, she began to turn her thoughts to other possible suspects. Abbey? Camilla? Sandra Lansky? Will Folger? Who stood the most to gain from this murder? Emily, of course, stood to gain financially, but only if she was acquitted. If the motive was revenge, Abbey and Camilla were right up front. But where did Sandra Lansky fit in?
“Well, that was interesting.”
“What? Is Emily all right?”
“Yes. She seems to be more ‘all right’ every day. Will and Darlene are at her house, and they are helping her clear out Conrad’s clothes, plus a few other things. Emily found some receipts in one of Conrad’s jacket pockets. They were for expensive lingerie from a pricey boutique in Chicago. They sure weren’t a gift for Emily.”
“Really?” Grace couldn’t hide the shock from her voice. “So Conrad might have had another woman in his life?”
“It appears so. Emily says he had been to Chicago on business trips quite often, but recently those trips had stopped. Will told her to call me immediately. Since Will is a large presence on my list of ‘who has to gain from Conrad’s death,’ it would be to his advantage to push the suspicion away from him. I must admit, however, this does add a new direction to my investigation.”
“Were these receipts very recent?”
“Last fall.”
“Are you going out to Emily’s?”
“Yes. Heading toward the coat closet as we speak.”
Grace stopped walking beside TJ, grabbed her shoulder, and looked at her.
“What?” said TJ.
“When did Sandra Lansky come to town?”
“A few weeks ago. Why?”
“Woman in the bank. Threats. Suddenly this waitress shows up with a cousin you haven’t traced. Lingerie receipts from the fall. No more business trips . . .”
“Blond hair on the woman in the bank, Grace.”
“A wig?”
TJ considered. “The red hair would be quite recognizable.”
“Want to put some money on it, TJ?”
“Not with you on the other end. Your hunches have been right too often, Grace. Before long, I may have to put you on the payroll.”
“Fantastic. Yet another retirement job for me.”
She followed TJ to the front hallway, getting ready for the blast from the tundra. As TJ opened the door, Grace said, “Keep up the good work and Emily won’t need a ‘scumbag defense’ after all. Oh, and wait a minute. Come back in. I’m going to put some apple pie on a plate, and you can take it out to her. She needs fattening up.”
Grace saw a pained expression cross the detective’s face.
“Grace, this does not seem like the thing a detective would do for a chief suspect who is wearing an ankle bracelet.”
After TJ left, Grace finished a few tidying-up chores around the house. Then she sat down on the sofa in her den to read another chapter from Olivia’s diary.
Late August, 1893
The last month has been a whirlwind of activity, going with the judge to the opera house, the theatre in Woodbury, several church socials, and the county fair. Aunt Maud has accompanied us, and the judge has been clever, thoughtful, and well-mannered toward me. He gave me flowers and also a lovely glove box. “Gifts to show his affection and esteem,” he said.
I saw Tyler at the library, and even though I have sent several messages to him, he says he has not received them. He asked if I had mentioned his name to the judge and, of course, I had. After all, Tyler was one of the first friends I made in Endurance. A look passed over his face, and he said we should exchange messages only at the library.
I often ride one of the judge’s horses, a beautiful mare named Lily. Tyler rides, too, and he said we might meet and talk while I exercise Lily. He is not pleased I am courted by Judge Lockwood, and he says I do not really know what the judge is like. When I told Tyler the judge has been nothing but kind, he got vehement about my seeing him. He could not tell me why, only that he had heard things which were inappropriate for the ears of a lady. Perhaps he is jealous.
I have been invited to the judge’s house for dinner next week with Aunt Maud.
I suppose Tyler tries to warn me because he sees that as the office of a friend. I have liked him since I first met him, but about the judge he has only one opinion: I should stay away from him.
I have written to my parents, telling them about Judge Lockwood and also about Tyler. I know Aunt Maud has written to them also, and my mother’s return letters urge caution and patience. She and Father will be here soon on a visit and judge for themselves.
When I read the earlier part of my diary, I am surprised my first impression of Judge Lockwood was so negative. Having spent more time with him, I am quite comfortable now in his presence. Perhaps he is the man I was destined to meet since my parents sent me to Endurance to find a husband. See, the eternal plan works out as it should.
2 September, 1893
Aunt Maud and I have now been at Judge Lockwood’s home for both tea and luncheon. It is the most amazing place I have ever beheld. The rooms are huge, with vast ceilings, and he has gaslights throughout the house. The parlors are furnished exquisitely, and the walls and woodwork are expensive and ornately decorated.
During our visits I have met his servants. Robert Heaton is his butler, and he is married to Jonalyn, who is a servant and also a lady’s maid. She was personal maid to the first Mrs. Lockwood. They look to be thirty-five or forty years old. Then there is the housekeeper, Rose Hernshaw, who is about ten years older. They are all terribly efficient, and do their jobs silently and effectively. I hardly know they are in the room as we eat dinner, and seldom do I see a human emotion cross their countenances. I must confess, however, that I am anxious about navigating a huge house like this with servants. They are all so much older and more knowledgeable than I am. I only learned which fork to use a bare few months ago. It was . . . overwhelming.
The next day I rode out on Lily, determined to think about this courtship and whether or not I truly wanted to live the rest of my life with Judge Lockwood. I know my parents sent me to Endurance to find a husband, and I believe they would approve of the judge. We will find out in a week. I can hardly wait because I have missed them so much. Aunt Maud believes the judge will ask them for my hand. She is filled with excitement at the thought, as if my marriage will raise her value in the eyes of my parents and the town of Endurance.
Riding up to a ridge where I often stop and sit under the trees to think, I was surprised Tyler Quinn was there before me. His horse grazed in the pasture nearby, and Tyler sat on the ground reading a book. He said he thought I might come for a ride today, so he waited to speak with me. As always, it was so easy to talk to him and much less formal than speaking to the judge, and I sat down next to him as we talked. He said his legal reading with Simon Barclay went well, and he felt in the coming year they might become partners in the law firm and work together. Then, he said, he would be able to offer me a life with him, and a small, but growing, salary. He spoke with great earnestness and held my hands as he talked. I listened with dismay, knowing that the judge planned to ask my parents for their blessing. My heart tightened and shrank into a small little ball, and my chest constricted even as it fought against the hated corset.
The longer I listened to his plans for the future, the more I remembere
d the joy I had when I first met him a mere few months ago. He spoke with such enthusiasm for his job, but also said he wanted to have a future life and children with me. I blushed as he spoke of it. Tears began to form in my eyes, but I brushed them away and tried to be strong. I quietly but firmly explained that the judge planned to speak to my parents about a betrothal between us.
Suddenly, he was a man I did not know. His eyes turned cold, and he rose and used his riding crop to assail the tree behind us. He waited until his anger was spent and then spoke harshly of the judge and his reputation in some quarters of the town. Shaking his head and pacing in front of me, he said Judge Lockwood was not the man I thought him to be. He believed if I knew of the judge’s past and some darker elements in his current life, I would not be so quick to say yes to such an engagement. Tyler also claimed the messages I sent to him were intercepted by an office boy who was paid by Judge Lockwood to do so. I was shocked. I asked him what evidence he had of the truth of that statement, and he said the boy had told him so.
I did not know what to say to him. The judge has been generous and mannerly toward me. I do not know where these dark and negative stories come from, and I told Tyler once again the judge has courted me with all kindness. I could not believe he would stoop to the theft of my messages. Tyler started to talk and then closed his mouth. He was angry as he left, and his anger settled in the air around me as I thought about his words.
I feel at ease with Judge Lockwood, and I know he can provide me with a good life. This will be a comfort to my parents. He is, after all, a federal judge and lacks for nothing comfortable and pleasant. He is very formal and, in some ways, courtly. My parents would approve since they sent me to Endurance to find out about how to be a lady and have a man of substance come into my life. On the other hand, when I am with Tyler Quinn, my heart quickens, and I feel a lightness, a happiness, that is so pleasant and familiar. It is the same feeling I have at home in Anthem with my parents, my brothers, and my galloping rides over the hills on Lightning. But he offers not the security and financial future of Judge Lockwood.
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