Headlines & Deadlines (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 7)

by Amanda M. Lee

  “My mother would never talk about something like that with me,” Celeste said. “When I was a teenager I realized she was covering it up. I never said a word until I was eighteen, and when I brought it up she freaked out. She honestly thought I didn’t know.”

  “Does your brother know, too?”

  “Seth knows, although he’s not nearly as disturbed out about the sex stuff as I am,” Celeste said. “He thinks it’s funny that Dad goes to that club to hook up. He’s a boy, though. He doesn’t understand what that did to our mother.”

  “Do you know Amber Davenport?”

  “I know her,” Celeste said, making an exaggerated face. “When I first met her I knew only that she was one of my mother’s colleagues – and not one she had much respect for.”

  “When did you find out about the affair?”

  “Six months ago. I caught her sneaking into the pool house with my father.”

  “Have you had occasion to talk to Amber since then?”

  “I confronted her in the parking lot one night,” Celeste admitted. “You have to understand that I wanted my mother to start acting as if she deserved more than she was settling for. I wanted her to be happy.”

  “Did you know Amber was pressuring your father to file for divorce?”

  “I did.”

  “Everyone I’ve talked to says your mother didn’t want to entertain the thought of divorce because she didn’t want to upset you and your brother,” I said. “Do you think that’s the real reason?”

  Celeste shrugged. “I think there are probably a multitude of reasons why my mother didn’t want a divorce,” she said. “At her age she was afraid to be alone. She didn’t want to rejoin the dating pool. It’s not as though she and my father were … intimate. They had separate bedrooms.

  “Still, that would’ve been a big step for her,” she continued. “I tried to tell her we would be fine if she wanted to file for divorce. I honestly thought I might have a better relationship with my father if they separated. He always seemed so angry, and I imagined it was because he felt trapped in a relationship he didn’t want to be in.”

  “I need to know about your father’s finances,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “One person told me that Amber was under the misguided notion your father was rich. Now, I know he has multiple business holdings, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s rich. She didn’t seem to understand he would lose half of his money in a divorce. Did you ever hear your parents talking about financial issues?”

  “They had separate financial issues,” Celeste replied. “My mother brought in a nice salary from her job. She also has money from a trust that was set up in her name when my grandparents died. She’s never touched the trust and there is a sizeable fund there now thanks to her prudent investments.

  “My father does have a lot of business property, but have you looked at them?” Celeste asked.

  I shook my head. “Only marginally. The only place I visited was the rental house because … well … I thought there was something fishy going on there.”

  “There is,” Celeste said. “That’s the house Dad was going to move Amber into. That was going to be their love nest. My mother caught wind of it and shut that idea down, though. She had a fifty percent stake in my father’s business because he borrowed money from her father when he first started out twenty years ago.”

  “Hold up,” I said, my mind busy. “I want to make sure I understand this. When your father started his real estate business he borrowed money from your grandfather?”

  “Yes,” Celeste said. “When my grandfather died he arranged it so that my father had to pay back my mother instead of him. I honestly think it was a joke on his part. He never liked my father. Dad thought the debt would be forgiven. You can imagine his surprise when he found out the opposite was true.

  “Anyway, Dad didn’t have the money to pay off the loan, so my mother took a stake in his company,” she continued. “She was legally a fifty percent owner.”

  Things were starting to slip into place. “If I understand this correctly, you’re telling me that your mother would’ve owned seventy-five percent of your father’s company if they divorced,” I said. “She already had her fifty percent and when he had to split the rest of his assets she would get another twenty-five percent. Err … wait … is that right?”

  “Yes, but not the way you’re doing the math,” Celeste said, making a face. “I think it’s probably good you’re a writer and not a mathematician.”

  “We can all agree with that.”

  “My mother’s trust was legally sewn up so only my brother and I could get access to it in the event of her death,” Celeste said. “My father has no claim on it, although he tells people otherwise because he doesn’t want anyone to realize my mother was the one who had the real assets.

  “My brother and I won’t see a dime of that money until we’re thirty,” she continued. “My mother didn’t want us blowing it and I’m kind of thankful she did it that way because my brother would already have a hundred-thousand-dollar car if he were left to his own devices.

  “When my mother forgave my father’s business loan she did it by making him sign a decree that said her share in his company was not a community asset,” Celeste said. “They owned the house and cars and other property jointly, but her trust and share in his property was completely separate.”

  “She knew that she could stop your father from filing for divorce because she would essentially be leaving him destitute,” I finished.

  “Exactly.”

  “Amber didn’t know that, though,” I said. “She thought your father was going to be flush if they divorced.”

  “That’s probably because Dad lies whenever he can,” Celeste said.

  Something about this nagged at me. “It wouldn’t benefit your father to kill your mother,” I said.

  “Not financially,” Celeste said.

  “Then why would he kill her? He’s worse off now than if stayed in the marriage. He doesn’t have access to that money and it’s not as though he can borrow it from you or your brother because you’re not going to see it for years.”

  “I know you hear this all the time, Ms. Shaw, but I honestly don’t think Dad killed my mother,” Celeste said. “I’m not saying he’s a good guy. I’m not saying he’s not a … sexual deviant … who emotionally abused my mother. But I don’t think he’s a murderer.”

  Well … crap. I was starting to have my doubts, too. “If your father didn’t kill your mother, who did?”

  “I have no idea,” Celeste said. “I’m simply asking that you be very certain that my father is guilty before you lock him up and throw away the key.”

  I sighed. Things were spiraling out of control in a different direction now. “Let’s go over this from the beginning,” I said. “I want to make sure I understand everything you’re telling me.”

  “Can you help my father?” Celeste looked hopeful.

  “I don’t know. I need to make sure I’m not missing anything when I look at the big picture.”

  “I can’t ask for more than that,” Celeste said. “Where do you want to start?”

  Twenty-Eight

  “What are you thinking about?”

  I shifted my eyes from the pieces of steak I was pushing around on my plate and found Eliot’s worried gaze resting on me. I’d filed my story about my interview with Celeste, and I knew I was going to scoop everyone again, and yet something didn’t sit right.

  To celebrate, Eliot offered to take me out to an expensive dinner. I would’ve been fine with less expensive Mexican fare, but it seemed important to him. Unfortunately my mind was too busy to let me enjoy it.

  “I think I’ve made a big mistake,” I said.

  “If you don’t want the steak you can order the pasta. I’ll pay for both.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Seriously?”

  “I’m trying to get you to talk to me,” Eliot said. “I thought a bad joke might loosen you up. Tell me what’s bugg
ing you.”

  “Celeste Grisham.”

  “I thought you said she was a good interview.” Eliot furrowed his brow, confused.

  “She was a great interview,” I said. “She was soft-spoken and intelligent. She was rational. She knew about her father’s affairs and other misdeeds and was open about them.”

  “What’s the problem then?”

  “She doesn’t think her father is a murderer.”

  “How is that a mistake for you?” Eliot asked.

  “I went into this thing assuming Adam Grisham killed his wife,” I said. “There was something about him at that first news conference that I didn’t like. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but he rubbed me the wrong way.”

  “I get the feeling he rubs a lot of women the wrong way,” Eliot joked.

  I shot him a look.

  “Sorry,” Eliot said, holding up his hands. “I can’t keep up with your moods. If this is bugging you we should hash it out. Break it down for me. Start at the beginning. What bothered you about Grisham at the first conference?”

  “He was smarmy.”

  “A lot of rich men – and poor men, for that matter – are smarmy. You can’t base everything on his outward demeanor. Keep going.”

  “He had to know that we would find out about his sexual proclivities if his wife was found dead,” I said. “He went out of his way to say they had a good marriage and everything was all hand-holding and walking through the meadow while singing.”

  “That’s a beautiful analogy,” Eliot said. “I hate to burst your bubble, though. I’ve seen a lot of guilty men lie simply because they never imagined someone would be industrious enough to uncover the truth.”

  “I guess.”

  “You’re still not convinced,” Eliot said. “Tell me how you went from believing Grisham was guilty beyond a reasonable doubt to believing he’s innocent.”

  “I’m not sure I do believe he’s innocent,” I countered. “I’m also not sure he’s guilty. The money is the key issue.”

  “You said that Adam won’t see a dime of Julia’s money,” Eliot said. “He was also going to lose money and stature if they divorced. Throw all of that out the window and look at it with fresh eyes. What would Grisham have to gain by killing his wife?”

  “Celeste said he was really unhappy,” I said. “He wanted out of the marriage but he was trapped by Julia’s tight purse strings. She knew he was having affairs and looked the other way. She knew about the sex club and ignored it.”

  “Maybe Grisham felt so trapped he didn’t care about losing the money,” Eliot suggested. “Of the two scenarios he faced, he was going to be better off with Julia’s death. He wasn’t going to come out of it rich, but he was going to come out of it happy.”

  “Grisham isn’t the type of guy who doesn’t care about money and status, though,” I argued. “Celeste said he told everyone that Julia’s trust was his. He never told anyone about the business loan. None of their friends knew Julia was half owner of that business. He cared what people thought about him.”

  “Then why did he attend the sex club?”

  “Because he thought no one knew he was going there,” I said. “He was an anonymous face in a crowd. If he did happen to run into someone he knew, odds were they would never tell because then they’d have to own up to why they were there.”

  “That’s a good point,” Eliot conceded. “What if someone found out another way, though? You said the daughter found out.”

  “Because she went there,” I said. “She and some of her college friends thought it would be entertaining to go. She never thought she would see her father there.”

  “Did she say how he reacted?”

  “After our initial conversation she agreed to the interview and we really started breaking things down,” I said. “She didn’t hold anything back and she didn’t ask me to avoid certain questions. She was very honest.

  “She said her father seemed embarrassed when he first saw her and then laughed it off,” I continued. “If people found out on their own I’m guessing he was going to tell them that he was checking on the property because he owned it. It was a convenient excuse.”

  “I can buy that,” Eliot said. “It seems to me that Grisham wasn’t embarrassed to flaunt his affairs in front of people, though. Everyone in that administration office knew Adam and Amber were doing the nasty because they made sure everyone knew.”

  “The nasty? Are you a twelve-year-old girl now?”

  “You know what I mean,” Eliot said. “If Grisham was so concerned about what people thought, why have such a public affair?”

  “Because Amber forced his hand,” I answered, an idea forming. “Amber wanted him to file for divorce. Grisham wasn’t thrilled with his situation, but he knew there was no way out. Amber was the one who wanted to force her will on everyone else.”

  “Do you think Amber killed Julia?”

  That was an interesting question. “I don’t know. She doesn’t strike me as a down-and-dirty murderer. She’s petulant and whiny. She’s manipulative and bitter. She’s not very bright, though.”

  “She strikes me as bright enough to manipulate Leo into doing it,” Eliot said gently. He knew I was convinced Leo was a patsy in all of this. He didn’t want to upset me. Unfortunately, if I was starting to question Grisham’s guilt I had no choice but to also question Leo’s innocence.

  “I guess I need to decide whether I think Amber is manipulative enough to convince Leo to kill Julia,” I said matter-of-factly. “My problem with that scenario is that Leo talked about Adam and Julia. He said he was trying to help Adam when he dumped Julia’s car.”

  “He did say that,” Eliot said. “He’s a confused man, though. He also didn’t believe Julia was dead. If he killed her I have a hard time believing he would forget it.”

  “Killing Julia doesn’t benefit him unless someone offered him money,” I pointed out. “Julia was feeding him. Julia was taking an interest.”

  “Julia was also pressuring him about rehab,” Eliot said. “Leo seems dead set against going back to a hospital. If we go through his background I’ll wager we’ll find multiple rehab stays.”

  “Obviously none of them worked.”

  “You can’t help someone if they don’t want to accept help,” Eliot replied. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think Leo is a murderer. You have to stay focused for something like that. Leo can’t stay focused for more than a minute at a time. Anyone who would trust him to carry out a murder is a moron.”

  “That brings us back to Amber and Adam,” I said. “Do you think Amber is capable of murdering Julia?”

  “I think stabbing someone is hard to do,” Eliot said. “Strangling them isn’t easy but stabbing someone … that’s something else entirely.”

  “Have you ever stabbed someone?”

  “I have been in a knife fight,” Eliot said. “I didn’t stab anyone, but I was injured and know how messy it can be.”

  “You were in a knife fight? Why don’t I know about this?”

  “Do I know everything about your past?”

  “No,” I conceded. “I can promise I was never in a knife fight, though.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “Do you think Adam Grisham is capable of stabbing someone?” I asked.

  “I haven’t seen him in person so I don’t have a good feel for the man,” Eliot replied. “The only time I’ve seen him is when you covered that first news conference on his lawn.”

  “You watched that?”

  “I watch all of your television appearances,” Eliot teased. “I tell people I’m dating a superstar.”

  “You’re cute.”

  “I try,” Eliot said. “You’re usually pretty cute, too. You’re struggling right now, though, and I don’t like it. What are you going to do about this situation? Are you going to take your suspicions to Jake?”

  “I don’t think Jake is going to appreciate me sticking my nose into his investigation,” I replied.
“I think I should probably stay out of it. I’ve got two great stories going in tomorrow’s edition. I can’t do more than that tonight.”

  “You could eat your dinner,” Eliot prodded.

  I smiled ruefully. “You’re right. You bought it. I should eat it.”

  “If you clean your plate I’ll give you a treat when we get back to your place.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?” Eliot winked, trying to draw me the rest of the way out of my doldrums.

  “I would,” I said. “I need you to do one thing for me when we get back to the house before we do … that.”

  “No.”

  “I haven’t even told you what it is yet,” I protested.

  “Whatever it is I’m not going to like it so I’m saying no now,” Eliot said. “I want to go home and put the Grishams and their … problems … behind us for one night. Do you think you can manage that?”

  “If you do this one thing for me,” I said.

  Eliot released an exasperated sigh. “What one thing?”

  “We made a joke about Julia Grisham having a life insurance policy that was going to make her husband rich,” I reminded him. “I want to see whether that’s true. You can find out if there’s an outstanding policy, right?”

  Eliot stilled, his fork halfway to his mouth. “That’s actually a really good idea,” he said. “That should’ve been one of the first things we did.”

  “We got sidetracked with all the weird sex and affairs,” I said. “The homeless guy didn’t help either.”

  “If Grisham has a large insurance policy on Julia, are you going to go back to him being the guilty party?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. It would definitely make me feel better. It would be a realistic motive.”

  “Do you need a motive that makes sense to let this go?”

  “I need … something … to let this go,” I said. “Usually things snap into place this late in the game and I’m comfortable with the answers. Nothing about this feels comfortable.”

  “That could be the ball gag talking.”