“Find out what?”
Wynne thought she detected dread in Simon’s voice, and she stared at him. An uneasy feeling started in her stomach. She remembered the sheriff had asked Simon about an argument he had with Amanda the day before she and Jerry disappeared. Her gaze swung back to Alan.
“Why you killed her.”
“I didn’t kill her, Alan.”
There seemed to be a lack of conviction in Simon’s voice. Wynne had her suspicions about Simon’s feelings for his fiancée. She’d wondered if he’d been relieved when he thought Amanda had run off with Jerry.
Her gaze traveled to Simon. His stony face made her heart sink. She looked down at her hands. Though she wasn’t sure if she could trust him or not, she wasn’t about to incite Alan to more anger. Better to say nothing.
Simon forced himself to stay in his seat even though the accusation in Wynne’s face made him feel like walking away. He couldn’t deny he was disappointed in her. He had hoped she’d begun to know him well enough to know he wouldn’t murder anyone. He took a gulp of coffee and burned his tongue.
He set down his coffee cup then looked up to meet Alan’s angry glare. “You’re right, Alan. Wynne is the one who found the boat. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t looking as hard as I was able. I want to prove my innocence.”
“That will be a trick after what I found out.” Alan’s voice was taunting.
“I suppose you found out your sister stole from me,” he said quietly. Wynne gasped, and Alan’s face reddened even more.
“You just wanted out of the engagement so you fabricated a lie.”
“Why would I want out of the engagement? Our wedding was in a month.” Simon hadn’t wanted to think about that last day and certainly hadn’t wanted to talk about it. He wished he could hide it in a closet in his mind and never open the door.
“Amanda wouldn’t lie.”
Simon looked at Wynne. He wanted her to believe him, needed her to trust him. “Amanda was my accountant, that’s how we met. I had no reason not to trust her, but I’d received an audit notice from the IRS. I called an accountant on the mainland to review the books. He found over a hundred thousand dollars had been embezzled and traced it back to Amanda.”
Alan was shaking his head as Simon talked. “Amanda wouldn’t do something like that.”
“She admitted it,” Simon said. The memory swept over him.
Amanda wore a yellow sundress that showed off her tanned legs and arms. Her long blond hair cascaded to her waist, but Simon barely noticed her beauty now that he knew what the shapely exterior covered.
“Come in,” he said. Amanda paused in the doorway of his office. The pounding of riveters made him wince. “Shut the door,” he said.
“This sounds serious.” She pranced in on stiletto sandals. Once she was seated in the chair across from his desk, she crossed one shapely leg over the other and gave him a bewitching smile.
Simon’s lungs squeezed. “The report came back from the auditor’s, Amanda. There’s money missing.” Would she admit she did it? He hoped she would. Maybe he could forgive her if she had a good reason for it.
Amanda’s blue eyes widened. “You’re kidding. A clerical error maybe?”
“No, no error. It’s been embezzled. And Ben traced it back to you. Why would you steal from me, Amanda? I’d give you anything you asked.” He waved toward the obscenely huge diamond she wore. “You wanted a fancy diamond, and I got it. You wanted a house overlooking Lake Superior and it will be done by our wedding. What possible reason could you have for this?”
At last Amanda’s smile faltered. “You don’t believe him, do you? You should know I wouldn’t do that.”
Simon leaned his face on his hands. “Amanda, he’s got bank records. Don’t lie to me anymore.”
Tears filled her eyes, and her lips trembled. “I’m sorry, Simon.” She clasped her hands together tightly in her lap. “It was for us, for our future.”
“What are you talking about?”
She told him what she’d used the money for, and rage began to burn in his belly. A sour taste backed up in his throat. “I see.”
“I’m tired of having to ask a man for what I want. Just for once I wanted to be able to buy what I want when I want it and not answer to anyone.” She lifted her chin and stared into his face. “Maybe I wouldn’t even have to marry you if I had money of my own.”
Something fragile inside him finally shattered with the defiance in her face. She didn’t love him—she never had. “I see.” He stood and went to stare out the window. From here he could see a hint of blue that was Lake Superior. He whirled around. “Then go! Make all the money you want. You’re free of me.”
She stood with her hand pressed to her heart. “Are you pressing charges?”
“I doubt I’ll have much choice. The IRS is going to look at the books.”
“You have to fix this somehow, Simon. Please. For the sake of all we meant to one another.”
“What did we mean to one another, Amanda? I thought we had something special and now I find you just wanted my money. How do you think that makes me feel?” He still wasn’t sure what he felt. He was numb.
“You’d better listen up, Simon. If I go down, you go down.”
“What do you mean?” He felt too sluggish to be able to follow her.
“I’ll implicate you, too. I’ll say you had me do it, that this is something we cooked up together.”
“For what purpose? The money was mine already.”
“To cheat the IRS of taxes.” She gave a self-satisfied smile. “Fix it, Simon.”
“So you can live high on the hog?”
“Don’t let jealousy get in the way of your good sense.” She turned and rushed to the door and threw it open. “You’ll be sorry if you dump me,” she declared shrilly. “I’ll still see you at the altar. If you don’t show up, I’ll tell the world how you made me do it.”
She spoke loudly enough that he knew his receptionist had to have heard it. Bonnie had been with him for years, though, and she’d never liked Amanda. Wild horses couldn’t drag this conversation out of her.
He watched Amanda run down the hall. Her sobs echoed back through the open door. He heard the door slam, and with the sound, his heart broke.
Alan’s voice brought him back to the present. “You’re not going to drag my sister’s name through the mud.”
“Amanda wasn’t the darling you thought her,” Simon said gently. He’d barely gotten the words out when Alan leaped to his feet and charged at him. The other man’s bulk tipped Simon’s chair over, and he crashed to the ground with Alan on top of him. He thrashed and managed to throw Alan off, then jumped up.
Wynne sprang between them. She put her hands on Alan’s chest. “Sit down, Alan.” Her voice was like a schoolmarm’s, all authority and command. Alan tried to step around her, but she blocked him again. “You said the sheriff is on his way. Let him sort this out.”
Just what Simon didn’t want.
ELEVEN
The sheriff had herded them all into the backroom of the café, away from avid spectators. Wynne had offered to have Becca or Max come get her, but Simon had asked her to stay. She had to admit to herself she was curious. Her emotions raged between dread and hope.
She realized she didn’t want Simon to be guilty. Just a few days in his company, and the walls she’d carefully erected around her heart were crumbling. Simon seemed full of integrity. If he was guilty of something as heinous as murder, then she might as well forget ever trusting her own judgment.
Sheriff Mitch Rooney’s eyes were shrewd as he put one booted foot on a rung of the chair he’d pulled out. “Alan called me and said he had proof you murdered his sister. I’d like to hear it now.”
Simon said nothing. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.
Rooney’s gaze swiveled to Alan. “Well?”
Alan’s hand shook as he pointed at Simon. “I talked to an employee who told me about
the argument he had with Amanda.”
“The mysterious fight.” The sheriff took out a notepad.
Wynne could almost see the sheriff rubbing his hands together in his mind. He’d been out to prove Simon was guilty right from the start.
“The employee overheard Amanda scream at Simon and tell him that she’d make sure everyone knew what he’d made her do.”
“What he’d made her do? That sounds vague. It could be anything.” The sheriff glanced at Simon.
Wynne wanted Simon to speak and defend himself, but he continued to sit with his arms folded across his chest. His gaze connected with hers, and she nearly winced at his stony expression. He thought she was against him, too. She put a bit of pleading into her gaze, but he just looked away.
“You have anything to say for yourself?” Rooney asked.
Simon shrugged. “You already knew we’d had an argument. It had nothing to do with her death.”
“What did you make her do?”
“Nothing. She had been caught in something she didn’t want to take the blame for.”
“I’m going to find out about this. You might as well make it easy on yourself and tell me.”
Why was he holding back? He’d told Alan that Amanda had embezzled from him. Why was no one saying it? She was tempted to tell the sheriff herself, but it wasn’t any of her business.
Alan was chewing on his lower lip, and Wynne could tell he was torn between telling the sheriff what Simon had said and keeping it to himself.
The indecision on his face changed to a bullish determination. “He said Amanda had embezzled money. I say he killed her in a fit of rage. He should have known she wouldn’t do anything like that.”
Rooney’s gaze sharpened. “Embezzlement?”
Simon sighed. “I don’t want to drag Amanda’s reputation through the mud now that she’s dead. Can’t you just take my word that this has nothing to do with her death?”
“I’m afraid not. I think you’d better come down to the station for interrogation.”
“Are you arresting me?”
The sheriff hesitated. “Not yet. But I’d like an official interrogation on record.”
“And if I refuse?”
Rooney’s face darkened. “I’d hate to have to put out a warrant for you as a material witness. Might be embarrassing.”
“For you or for me?” Simon shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere. Go get your warrant.”
A darker flush traveled up the sheriff’s neck and to his face. “You’re not making any points here, Lassiter.”
“I wasn’t trying to. I don’t have time to play games with you. I want to find out what happened to my cousin and my fiancée. I found the boat.” An expression of consternation rippled across his face.
He shouldn’t have said that. Wynne knew what was coming next.
The sheriff half stood, then sank back into his chair. “Give me the coordinates. You’re not to disturb the site. We don’t want the evidence contaminated.”
“So you can railroad me in to a murder charge?” Simon shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“You’re impeding an official investigation. I’ll see you in jail. How’d you find it?”
“Serendipity,” Simon said. “You know Marquis Island? Wynne saw a blip on the sonar just offshore.”
The sheriff looked alert. “Marquis Island? That’s a known meeting place for Canadian drug smugglers. I should check out that angle.”
Simon shook his head. “Jerry wouldn’t have been involved in anything like that. Or Amanda.”
“You never know,” Rooney said, his chin jutting out. “At least it’s something to check out. In the meantime, I need to look at that boat.”
“Sheriff, I have a suggestion,” Wynne began. “I’ve often worked with law enforcement agencies. Not many people are trained in deep water retrieval. I barely know Simon and have no bias in this case. Let me take charge of the process of raising the yacht.”
Simon looked like she’d slapped him, and Wynne wanted to reassure him that she would handle things with the utmost professionalism. She bit her lip and looked away from his stricken face. The sheriff was still mulling over her words. She waited as the silence grew.
“I’ll give you a list of references you can check,” she said.
“I’ll be in touch.” Rooney released the chair and removed his foot from its rung. “And expect a material witness warrant shortly, Lassiter. You’re going to tell me all about this.”
“That’s it? You’re not arresting him?” Alan’s face was mottled.
“This is all hearsay,” Rooney said. “I need the name of the employee you talked to.”
Alan shook his head. “I promised I’d leave this person out of it.”
“Great, just great. You call me down here for something I can do nothing about. I have no real evidence.”
“I’ll get you the evidence,” Alan shouted. He rushed from the room.
Rooney started after him then turned and looked back at Simon and Wynne. “I don’t know what to think, Simon. Just come clean with me.”
“I have been.” Simon tried to put as much force into the words as he could to convince Rooney.
Rooney shook his head. “We’re going to finish this discussion. You can count on it.” He walked off.
Wynne looked at Simon. “This feels very personal to me. Does the sheriff have something against you?”
Simon sighed. “His sister worked for me for a while.”
“That’s it? That doesn’t sound like much of a reason to have it in for you.” She could tell there was more to the story.
Simon rubbed his forehead. “She, uh, she killed herself when I had to let her go.”
Wynne sucked in her breath. “Oh, my. That poor family. Why did you fire her?”
Simon’s face was a stony mask. “She had a crush on me and had started following me everywhere.”
“When did this happen?”
“A year ago.”
Two women dead in a year’s time. Wynne didn’t want to doubt Simon, but the evidence was looking overwhelming.
Silence reigned in the truck as Simon drove along the rain-swept street. Water ran across the road in places, and he had to navigate slowly. Wynne had already tried him and found him guilty. He’d thought she would be more fair-minded than that. Disappointment hunched his shoulders and weighed him down.
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She was staring out at the storm that lashed the island. Maybe he should try to defend himself—tell her everything. He pressed his lips together. No, the less people who knew the full story, the better off he was. Once the sheriff knew the full scope of Amanda’s treachery, no one would think he was innocent of her death.
He clamped his teeth over the words that wanted to spill out and drove Wynne back to Windigo Manor. The manor house seemed to hunker down in the wind and rain that lashed the brick exterior. Lights shone from the windows.
“The thunderbird is sure hitting us hard today,” he remarked as he pulled the truck as close to the front door as possible.
Wynne nodded without looking at him. She put her hand on the door handle. “Wait a second,” he told her. “Look, I don’t want us to part with such heavy suspicion between us. I give you my word that I had nothing to do with Amanda’s death.”
“I want to believe you,” she said softly. “But you have to admit it looks bad, Simon. You’re asking me to trust you on faith alone.”
“I think you know me better than you think, Wynne. You can’t deny there’s a connection between us.”
He saw her throat move as she swallowed hard. “You trying to use that Lassiter charm on me?” she asked.
“There is no Lassiter charm,” he said wearily. “I’m tired of hearing that. This is me, Wynne. A flesh-and-bone man with hurts and troubles like any other. I’m not some Prince Charming. Can’t you trust me, just a little?”
“I don’t know, Simon. I’m going to have to pray about this. I�
��m not sure we should work together anymore.”
“But you were quick to offer your services to the sheriff, weren’t you? You want to bring up that boat even if you have to stab me in the back to do it.”
“That’s not fair,” she flashed back. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“Some protection. You’re throwing me to the wolves.”
“Would you rather someone work on the project who is under the sheriff’s thumb? At least you know I’ll be honest.”
“And how do I know that? Maybe Rooney has already got to you. You lived on this island when you were younger. Maybe you two are old friends.”
“I’d better go in. You’re being unreasonable.” She opened her door and jumped out, then dashed through the pelting rain.
Thunder and lightning crashed overhead. Simon waited until she reached the front door then dropped the truck into gear. He put his foot on the accelerator, then with a sudden decisive mood, slammed it back into Park and turned it off. He got out of the truck and ran toward the porch. Cold rain stung his cheeks, but he hardly noticed.
He reached the front door and pounded on it, not bothering with the doorbell. He pounded again, and the door finally opened.
Max’s frown lightened when he saw Simon. “I wondered why you didn’t come in.” His smile faded when he looked into Simon’s face. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything. The sheriff is about to arrest me for Amanda’s murder. I need your advice. You got a minute?”
“Sure. Get in here out of the weather.”
Simon followed Max down the hall. Looking into the living room, he saw a cozy scene with Becca, Gram and Wynne clustered around the baby. Wynne looked up and flushed when she saw him. He gave her a curt nod then strode past the doorway after Max. Let her wonder what he was doing here.
Max took him to his office. “Have a seat.”
Simon realized he was tired to the bone. The emotional upheaval of the day had taken its toll. He sank into a leather armchair. “I’m not sure where to begin.”
“How about with why the sheriff thinks you’re guilty.”
Simon nodded and began to tell Max the whole story. His friend nodded occasionally as he listened intently. He asked a few questions as the story unfolded. The relief Simon felt as he unburdened his troubles was as heartening as the first sign of spring to the U.P. He should have shared this with Max sooner.
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