“What is with my cat?” asked TJ, in such disbelief that Grace let the phone ringtone continue playing.
“Oh, just a little trick I taught him when we were at home all day. Grace has that song on a CD, too, and I thought Eliot might get some exercise if I taught him to chase his tail when he heard that song. I think Grace would call it behaving society.”
“I think that’s ‘behavioral psychology,’ Lettie.”
“Someday, Grace, you must explain to me why that particular song is Myers’s ringtone,” TJ said.
Grace answered the phone with a “Yes, Myers,” all the while smiling at TJ. Then she listened for a long few minutes. “Yes, TJ is here. I’ll put her on.”
She handed her cell phone to TJ.
The detective listened and said, “Sure, I’ll be at the bank shortly. Thanks.”
“What’s going on?” asked Lettie.
“Really? You don’t know?” TJ flippantly responded.
“Hmm,” Lettie said with a scowl on her face. “Which bank?”
“The bank examiners have been in town for the last two days, but they’ve been keeping a low profile. They were called into the Second National—Folger’s bank—because of some irregularities. The board of trustees was afraid people might get worried, so the examiners have kept under the radar.”
Grace took a deep breath. “What do they think is going on?”
“It’s a great deal of legal wrangling. When Conrad died, his will named his brother as executor of his estate. Conrad’s lawyer presented information to the court so they could go ahead with settling things. The judge concurred that Conrad’s will was in correct form, and Will Folger could proceed. Then, since Conrad’s death was violent, the bank examiners got legal papers saying they had just cause to look at the books, and the court gave them permission to go through his financial deals. Evidently, the examiners have questions about some financial management attributed to Conrad and, by extension, Will Folger. It’s a mess. We—the police department—are also involved, since the examiners think they might find criminal actions.”
Grace was shocked. “Oh, TJ. Not Will, too? He’s been so kind to Emily.”
“We don’t know the whole story yet. I think the board of trustees at the bank may put out a statement today so people won’t worry about their money.”
“And does this mean Will is in trouble?”
TJ nodded her head. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Lettie picked up one of her crutches and pointed it at TJ. “I knew it! I knew it. My horoscope today in the Register said I’d be right about everything—and someone I shouldn’t trust would finally be caught in lies.” She smiled smugly at TJ and Grace. “Of course, it should say that every day—the ‘right about everything’ part.”
“Do you think Conrad’s death is connected to these irregularities?” asked Grace, ignoring Lettie.
“Don’t know yet, but they sure muddy the waters, and it’s only going to get worse.”
“How could it get worse?” Grace asked.
“Myers said the bank examiners have called in the FBI. It means they suspect serious federal laws have been broken—felonies, I’m sure.”
“Well,” said Lettie, struggling to her feet on her crutches. “At least this will take the pressure off Emily Folger.”
“True,” said Grace, “as far as the murder charges. Whoever ran us down might have been after her, you know. But now people will be more worried about their holdings at the bank, wouldn’t you say, TJ? That will be the latest news, and Emily might get a rest.”
TJ slowly nodded her head. “Somehow I managed to leave my phone in the car, so Myers knew I’d be here. What’s with the ringtone for him?”
Grace smiled. “You know how you always complain about how the police department is a testosterone-driven group? You’re the only female down there. So I just remembered John Travolta’s swagger, and the words of that song when he was walking down the street in the movie. It’s all about how he’s a ladies’ man. Seemed like it would be a good ringtone for Myers.”
TJ laughed. “You’ve got that one right. How clever of you, Grace.” She turned and headed toward the hallway and her coat. “I have to leave and head down there.” Then she turned. “Will you two be all right here together—one of you with a pounding head, and the other one with a pounding ankle? I feel like I’m escaping from the Titanic.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The following evening, Grace could hear Lettie in the office as she watched a reality show called Senior Couples and Romance: Can Love Last? The sound was loud enough to be heard three houses away. Grace and TJ were in the kitchen, Grace sitting down and TJ admiring Del Novak’s work. Pritchard’s Hardware had put in the gray quartz countertops, and a new black granite sink, and Del had finished the sink hardware, painted the ceiling and walls, and added a new light fixture and some recessed lighting under the new cabinets. TJ inspected it all and whistled.
“Wow. Some nice work.”
“Hope so,” said Grace. “I like it more and more each day. And it’s possible for Lettie to cook again, so we won’t starve.” As TJ turned and sat down, Grace added, “So, how does the accident investigation go? Or Conrad’s murder? Or the bank investigation?”
“You’ll be happy to know after a long conference with DA Sorensen, I went out to Emily Folger’s and removed her ankle bracelet. Of course, the judge had to okay it, and Sorensen has no more plans to pursue charges against Emily.”
Grace smiled and clapped her hands. “Oh, that’s wonderful, TJ. We have finally won you over to the side of justice and freedom for the innocent.”
“You did, I guess. I also sat in on an FBI interrogation of Will this morning. I knew the FBI had found a security tape of him going in and out of the vault area carrying a large briefcase the Saturday after his brother was murdered. It was after hours and the bank was closed.”
“I know the lockboxes are in the vault, but isn’t it usually locked over the weekend?”
“Yes. It has three timers—they look like clocks—and each is set so the vault will unlock again at the programmed time.”
“Why three?” Grace asked.
“If one or two fail, the third will still work. Everyone saw Will set the timers. He’d told Bev Blackman he’d take care of it. She usually does. Will set the timers so he could still get in that afternoon instead of setting them for the following Monday morning.”
“What was he looking for in the vault?”
TJ took a deep breath and then blew it out slowly. “He was moving cash—lots of it—from Conrad’s lockbox to his and taking some home with him, Grace.”
“Cash from where?”
“Turns out Conrad had a nice little scam going, and he pulled Will into it.”
“A scam? What kind of a scam?”
“The fraudulent, go-to-prison-and-don’t-pass-go kind of scam. It’s a bit complicated and lots of banker terminology, but I think I can sort it out. The bank loans money—large sums sometimes—and has what they call a ‘loan-to-value’ policy. Say you want to buy a $300,000 house. The bank will loan you eighty percent of the appraised value of the house. It is their policy and they won’t loan you more.
“But Conrad set up several larger loans to people he could trust for more than what the borrower needed. Once the loan was funded, the borrower gave him a cash kickback. No one would know because the borrower would agree to the full amount of the loan. Anyone checking would think the balance was correct.”
“But what about checks and balances? Wouldn’t someone find out?”
“You would think. Unfortunately for Will, Conrad, as the bank president, agreed on the terms, and Will, as loan vice president, signed off on it. No one else was involved. But Gus Hart was beginning to suspect something funny because Will became more anxious about it as time went by. He knew if they were found out, his name was the one on the papers. He didn’t have Conrad’s nerve.”
“That explains why Jeff and I noticed a
sizable tension between the two of them the day Jeff signed his loan paper,” Grace said.
“Probably. When Conrad died, Will needed enough time to move the cash away from Conrad’s lockbox. After all, no one could have explained why it was there and how much was there. This means if Will killed Conrad, he’d do it at a time when he could get into the bank and deal with the money. A Saturday afternoon would give him the weekend.”
“Or, conversely, the timing might have been simply opportune if someone else killed Conrad. How did Will get into the lockboxes?”
“He knew where Conrad kept his box key and probably grabbed it early Saturday morning before the office was sealed off. The second key—called a guard key—is kept near the vault by the employee who handles the safety deposit boxes. He could easily use it, move the cash, and reset the vault clocks. But he didn’t remember the security camera. Even so, he could have lied about his reason to go into the vault in off-hours, but he’s not good at lying.”
Grace shook her head. “So both Conrad and Will made money from this, but what about the person getting the loan? Why take the risk?”
“Conrad made sure the borrower got a lower interest rate and practically nonexistent fees. Right now the FBI is continuing the probe to identify those borrowers.”
“Thank goodness Jeff isn’t one of them. But poor Will.”
“Poor Will? Why would you say that?”
“Conrad’s the one who got him into this.”
TJ shook her head. “Will thinks he’s such a badass. But he fell apart when they questioned him.”
“Isn’t ‘badass’ a bad thing?”
“No, Grace.”
“Oh.” Grace gasped. “What will Darlene do? That’s a serious fraud indictment.”
“Don’t know. The FBI doesn’t think she knew about it,” TJ said. She checked an incoming text on her phone, decided it wasn’t important, and set the phone back down on the table.
“Lots of money is involved here, Grace, and, remember, Conrad gave Will the job years ago. Maybe he attached a few strings. We don’t know how long this has been going on.”
“Do you really think Will had it in him to kill Conrad?”
“For the right reasons, yes. He knew the alarm code to the Folger house, and we don’t know how he felt about being passed over all those times by their father. A great deal of bad blood there. If anything happens to Emily, Will and Darlene are first in line to watch over the children and the money. People have killed for much less.”
“Did you ask him about it?” Grace said.
“Yes. He was appalled I would even consider that he might kill Conrad. He gave me a song and a dance about the choice their father had made to have Conrad succeed him. Will said it was the right choice. Besides, Conrad had given him a job at a time in his life when he was down and lost. It made all the difference.”
“Did you believe him?”
“No. He had way too much to gain by Conrad’s death, and he was probably unnerved that he signed for those loans if Conrad truly did force him to do it. Didn’t you say the brothers had a troubling conversation the day Jeff signed those loan papers?”
“Yes.”
TJ paused. “And this brings us to your recent accident on the road.”
“And Will? You think he might have been the driver?”
“He has a string of good reasons. First, someone slashed Emily’s tire, so whoever it was wanted the two of you together in the car—you for your snooping, and Emily to get her out of the way of the guardianship of her future wealthy children. Will said he was at a Rotary meeting that night, and his story checked out. But after the meeting he said he went to Patsy’s Pub for a drink or two, and he got home around eight-thirty. Darlene, of course, agreed. Will also claims he saw the emergency vehicles on the road on the way home, the ones at your accident.”
“And we were run off the road around eight.”
“Correct. Darlene had volunteer hours at Woodbury’s St. Agnes Hospital and said she got home around seven. I checked her shift with the hospital, and she was correct.
“The Folgers actually have not one, but two, dark SUVs. One of them has a small scratch and dented spot on the front bumper. Will said he caused it when he bumped into the back wall of the garage one night. And we did find a similar spot on the garage’s back wall. But,” TJ said, “and I found this very curious—he glanced at Darlene after he said that, and she gave him a daggers look back. I wonder if they had argued about damaging the car to cover the origin of the dent, and now it turned out Will was right. I can see how Darlene would hate to be wrong.”
“It is true that Darlene can be pretty irritating. I’ve only met her once at Emily’s.”
“When the FBI arrested Will, she showed up and was absolutely hysterical. She couldn’t believe he would do anything illegal at the bank. I’m not sure she knew he had signed those loan papers at Conrad’s behest. It was something about her reaction, which struck me as over the top and desperate.”
“I think Emily called her a ‘force of nature.’ ”
“We got a warrant for the house, and Darlene, of course, was totally uncooperative. Didn’t find any guns or blood. No clothes with bloodstains. We did find some potting soil in a shed and took it along with us. The bag’s at the lab, but it will take a while.”
TJ looked out the window for a moment. She turned back to Grace and said, “I wonder about Will and Darlene’s ‘lost years’ before they showed up here. I also am curious about where they got married.”
“Marriage,” Grace said, thoughtfully. “Conrad Folger and Emily, Judge Lockwood and Olivia, Will and Darlene. Quite a trio of marriages.”
TJ shook her head. “And you wonder why I keep my options open.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Grace looked at the most recent copy of the Endurance Register on the office counter. She glanced at the front page of the Friday edition. The headline was “Banker Arrested by FBI for Fraud.” They had rushed the newspaper out, and she was satisfied that it looked good. Every morning people from each department held a conference, so they could put the newspaper together while Jeff was gone.
Two days. Two days since Jeff had left, and she hadn’t heard a word. She turned around and looked at his office door, closed since Monday. Why hadn’t he at least called her and told her he was fine? And where was he? She didn’t know whether to be worried or angry. Well, give him another day, she thought. But there was an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to hear her phone play “A New York State of Mind.” His ringtone.
That morning TJ had stopped by the house and asked if she could leave Eliot. With Lettie, Eliot got more attention than TJ could give him while she worked. Grace hated to think what new tricks Lettie was probably teaching the cat. Del still puttered around the kitchen, and Lettie continued to slow him down. Grace shook her head. Lettie still acted like a six-year-old schoolgirl instead of a sixty-nine-year-old around the contractor. Del had finished the biggest projects, except for the floor, and so he was simply doing some finishing work while he waited for the floor tiles to come in.
Since Will had been arrested, TJ had more time to concentrate on Conrad’s murder, and she planned to go to the bank today. What a shock it would be if Will had not only signed those illegal loans, but had also killed his brother. Grace suddenly realized she was standing at the counter, totally in la-la land.
“Stop daydreaming, Grace, and decide what’s next,” she said out loud. Then she took a surreptitious look around to see if anyone had heard her, but she was alone in the front area of the newspaper office. She remembered she had meant to ask Emily about Will and Conrad’s relationship, and she glanced at her watch. She texted Emily to ask if she was home and got a definite, “Yes. Stop by if you’d like.” She wandered back to her office, grabbed her things, and headed out to the parking lot to make a quick stop at The Depot for a lemon meringue pie. She remembered her mother saying, “You should never go to visit anyone empty-handed.”
As she drove toward the county road, she recalled Emily said her children were leaving for a long weekend with their grandparents after school. It was the end of January, and the schools had a three-day weekend because of a teachers’ institute day. A thaw had melted much of the snow from the highway so the roads were clear.
Suddenly, the hairs on her neck prickled under her scarf, and her stomach had a rock-and-roll feeling. She looked to her right and it dawned on her she was passing the place where she and Emily had been run off the road. She could see the tire tracks remained in the ditch, and so did the churned-up snow and watery sludge where people had stomped through the ditch to rescue them and study the evidence. Now the remaining snow had turned to slush as it thawed, preparing to freeze up again at night. She hadn’t driven by here since the accident. Well, not exactly an accident, and Grace bit her lip nervously as she considered how much worse it might have been.
She almost jumped high enough to hit her head on the car ceiling when her phone went off and the Bluetooth picked up the “Wanted Dead or Alive” ringtone. TJ. She pushed the button on her steering wheel and said, “What’s up, Sheriff?”
Laughter, and then TJ’s voice said, “Uh, Detective. Maybe someday.”
“I’m almost to Emily Folger’s. Anything you want me to ask other than the question of Will and Conrad’s relationship?”
“That’s exactly what I want from you. And I figured I would bluntly ask if you’ve heard from the mysterious Editor Maitlin?”
Grace was silent for a moment. “Nope, not a word.”
“Hmmm. You don’t know whether to send me to bail him out of some horrible foreign prison ’cause you’re worried, or whether to kick a few spindles out of his front porch banister because you’re so angry. I can hear it in your flat, disinterested voice, Grace.”
“You know me so well.”
“Patience, woman.”
Marry in Haste Page 21