by Unger, Erin;
“I’d expect he’d want to think about retirement, but instead, he was lining up something important. But he never mentioned what it was.”
We asked another hundred questions.
Jillian remained at the wall. “The police have his computer?”
“They took it the day they…found him.” He blinked rapidly. “I guess his son could’ve gotten it back from them by now, but I don’t know. But I’ve worked on it a lot. And I never noticed anything out of the ordinary.”
Gary Newen could’ve hidden all kinds of data on it if he knew how.
I saw the wheels turning in Jillian’s head. “Would you say he had a good handle on using a computer?”
Ned straightened a pile of papers and moved his stapler. “As much as any other business owner.”
This man wasn’t giving an inch. I came around the chair and planted my hands on his desk, causing his nameplate to topple. “You said you knew him most of your life, but it doesn’t seem like you want to tell us anything about him.”
Ava put a hand on my arm and cleared her throat. “How was business doing for the two stores at the time of the murder?”
This was Ava’s area of expertise. Why make me do it? How were my partners not getting as aggravated as I was? I should be used to people shutting up when we were around, but I wasn’t. But I’d better cool it before I blew the interview and he stopped talking to us altogether. I straightened the nameplate and tried to maintain a calm expression.
His narrowed gaze remained on me as his knee bounced up and down under the desk enough to jolt it a bit. “Both stores were doing well. Since the upswing in the market, more shoppers were spending money. Tourism had picked up again. There was no cause for concern in any arena on my part.”
And that closed the interview. Thanks to me. “One last question—where were you that night?”
“With my wife. We went out to dinner at Lenny’s. You can check with the waitress there. Then we were in bed by eleven.”
Hopefully, Ava did her body reading stuff to tell if he’d been truthful with us. I willed calm to take over. Why’d I have to show my irritation? Wasn’t this the trip I’d planned to show Ava I could handle being in charge sometimes?
15
Shauna
I’d rather be cleaning toilets in a barracks than researching in Jillian’s stuffy room at the B&B. Give me a location to search and investigate, not endless paperwork in color-coded folders. I got up and went to the air unit in the wall to pull up the panel covering the controls. It read seventy-two degrees in here, but the humidity nixed the actual temp for a much higher number. I fanned my face and rested my head against the window. If I tried hard enough, I could see down the hilly community to Main Street. I craned to see as much as I could of the layout of the town and gridded it in my mind for future reference. I went back and sat down.
Jillian had scooched two tables together. She’d taken one of them from Ava’s room to give us more work space.
I sat back and rubbed my eyes.
“Do you think you can help me?” Jillian’s configuration took up half the room and made it hard to get to the beds.
“I guess.” Rolling my head back and forth, I tried to work out a kink as I moved to the end of one of the tables. “If you put this one over there, and push that one to the wall, they wouldn’t take up so much space.”
Jillian stood back and looked at the tables. “You’re right. See, that’s why I need your help. I can’t visualize these things.”
Pushing them together, I created an L-shaped formation. “There.” I moved the folders Ava had created for each of us. Ever the organized leader, Ava had every detail outlined, every location we had predetermined to investigate listed, and even photo shots of some of the area.
A knock stopped me as I attempted to sit without a grudging hurrumph. It must be Christopher. On my way to the door, I shook myself. Why did he keep coming to mind?
When I opened the door, Ava whisked past me. I tried not to let the disappointed squash me. “Hey, I thought you might like a cold drink.”
Bless her. “Thanks.” Pressing the ice-cold soda to my forehead, I melted against the wall. My friend knew me too well. Now, if I had a chocolate-filled oatmeal cookie with chocolate drizzles on the top I’d be more enticed to sit still and open my folder. Well, that would be a bad idea. It’d just find its way to my hips, and my sudden desire to shed the pounds I didn’t care about last week sealed the thought in no man’s land in my brain.
Ava opened each of our folders to the same page then passed them down the table with perkiness a cartoon character couldn’t outdo. “The fruit stand and souvenir shop is the next place we need to go. But let’s do more research first. Here are the town records on the property it occupies.”
I fished in my backpack for my small laptop and brought it to the tables. “Did you notice that guy at the Monacan village who tried to stop us from talking to Chief Queenie Johns shared the same last name as the owner of the land where the fire started? Tony Slaiger.”
Ava’s brows shot up. “No, I didn’t. Thanks for catching that fact.”
“I wonder if they’re related. And if there’s a tie between Gary Newen and the property where the fire started.”
Jillian stopped what she was doing and quirked her mouth. “Let’s find out.”
Plunking into my seat, I opened my laptop and hit power. “It could be a stretch, but what if there’s a connection between Tony, Gary, and something on that property? I mean, what if he had a crop or something valuable that was lost in the fire? Now he’s lost income Gary Newen wouldn’t pay out. Tie that to the heated debate over the land, and we could have another viable suspect.”
Ava had her own computer up and running. “A new possible motive for murder?”
Jillian was already typing. “And if he didn’t insure whatever it was, that means a complete loss. That would make anyone angry. Let me check the deed on the property first.”
With the deed pulled up from Uppland public records, we scanned through it. Jillian pointed at the screen. “An Albert Slaiger owns it.”
I clapped my hands together and sat up straighter. “We need to talk to the locals and find out if Tony and Albert are close relatives, and if there’s been a buzz about destroyed property from the fire.”
Jillian skipped from one page to another online. “I might find a connection, too.” Minutes later, she paused her mad typing. “This could take a while.”
Ava tapped my arm. “I’ll search land records and information pertaining to the souvenir shop while you do that.”
We pored over page after page on the Monacan village and land grants. The wiggles wouldn’t shake loose from my system. I got down on the oriental rug and did fifty push-ups as I let the new information sink in. My stomach muscles shook and protested, but I kept going. Something had to help me stop all the ADD fits keeping me from making progress.
Jillian pulled up police records. “Mr. Tony Slaiger was convicted of drug distribution fifteen years ago. Served three years.” She drew closer to the screen of her laptop. “Hit with contempt of court in o-nine. Fined and charged with not paying child support. More time in jail.”
I returned to the plush office chair and shook out my hands. Pushing my own computer away, I rubbed the back of my neck. “How in the world is he a right-hand man to Queenie? You’d think she wouldn’t want to have someone with his record in her limelight. Not with all she’s working to accomplish.”
Ava sighed. “We need to ask her about it the next time we go for a visit. Anything else, Jillian?”
“No. Give me time. I’ll dig up more.”
I bent to see the screen a little better. “But there isn’t anything on his record for the past three years.”
She threw up her hands. “Maybe he’s reformed. I don’t know.”
Ava stopped Jillian before she closed out of the website. “Why don’t we go ahead and check the records of the others we had questions about before you l
eave that page. On to the second person, William Hicks, the guy who was with Tony.”
Jillian scrolled and typed. “OK, he’s got no record except something sealed in juvenile courts when he was a minor.”
In unison, we all sat back.
I stared out the window at a bee buzzing into the glass.
Jillian plugged Queenie into the site. The computer buffered as it searched for the information we sought, and then the page filled. “Well, this isn’t out of the ordinary for someone working to change politics. She has a record for protesting in a public building and causing a riot in the town of Uppland.”
I laughed. “I’d like to see that. How many people would it take in a town this small to be considered a riot?”
Even Ava snickered. “They could’ve been trumped-up charges too. Small towns don’t handle that kind of thing well.”
Jillian changed websites. “She has a doctorate in history. Smart woman. She studied ancient Native American culture. A minor in business.”
Ava scooted closer to Jillian. “And she did some heavy lobbying with the state to get recognition for her tribe. She must know the law pretty well.”
“Right.” I sipped my drink and let the cold liquid calm me as it slid down my throat. “What about Gary Newen?”
Ava pulled her folder a little closer. “He has no criminal record. Not even a speeding ticket in the past twenty years.”
We each turned to our computers and began new searches within the local newspapers. Jillian flashed to information so fast that I barely found a good keyword to use in my search before she found a new tidbit. “There’s an article here about protests.” She read the pertinent information to us. “Queenie is named here with a bunch of others. It looks like this was a different event than the one where she got arrested.”
We kept looking up and reading information to each other until my back ached from sitting too long in one spot. The shadows in the room shifted and the air condition unit cut on less often as the day turned to evening. But no ties between Albert and Tony were found. “Let’s take a break. I don’t know how much more I can stare at this screen today.”
Jillian didn’t stop scrolling on her keyboard. “Uh-huh. I’ll do an ancestry search. That might work.”
Sliding her chair back, Ava got up and stretched then pushed the seat under the table. “I’m starving. We need to eat. And then we need to take a trip to the shop.”
I got up and fell onto the bed. “We need to take Christopher with us. He can open it and show us around.”
Ava cocked her head. “Is that the only reason?”
“Yep,” I popped my lips on the p.
“’K.”
Why were they trying to hook me up with him? “Client.”
“That didn’t stop you when we met Cory on the Connell case. I think I’ll return the favor.” She crossed her arms and wiggled an eyebrow. “Besides, now I have my soul mate. You need one too.”
Great. ‘Do unto others’ sucked sometimes. “Well, he’s clearly not interested. So give up.”
Jillian turned in her seat and propped her arms on the back of the chair. “Not gonna happen.”
Two against one? I rolled my eyes.
“Why don’t you text him and see if he wants to go to dinner with us then to the shop?” Ava didn’t relent.
“Fine.” I protested, but rationalizing didn’t reach my heart as it should’ve. What if I was interested in him? Could I let myself? I rolled on my stomach and grabbed a pillow. But what about re-enlisting? It was on the chopping block and how fair would it be to him if he shared mutual feelings but I went back into the military?
Don’t think about it now. I scooped up my phone and typed a message to Christopher.
When my phone dinged seconds later, my jaw dropped. “He says he’ll meet us in the lobby in five minutes.” My voice betrayed me. I swung around to see if they’d noticed but both of them were bent over the computer, looking hard at something.
Ava smacked the desk beside Jillian’s mouse. “Looks like someone lied to us.”
16
Shauna
“Do you know anything about the relationship between your father and Ned Thompson?” Ava headed straight for Christopher in the warm foyer of the B&B.
Now, why’d she have to beat me to questioning him?
Ava thrust her purse strap onto her shoulder. I swooped down the stairs behind her, breathing in lasagna-scented air. Ms. Eena must be cooking quite a meal for herself. My stomach growled even though it was already filled with adrenaline. “Yeah. Were they on friendly terms?”
Christopher lounged in a high-back chair, his ankles crossed. His navy polo shirt tucked into a nice pair of khaki pants was a big change from his work jeans and tee. Should I change out of my pink T-shirt and matching camo pants? Jillian and Ava corresponded to his attire, making me the odd one out. I scrubbed my hands across my thighs. This is who I was, and I wasn’t there to impress anyone—but still.
He stood and put his hands in his pockets. “As far as I know.”
I pushed my hair behind my ears. If I’d at least put it in a braid it would be neater than the tangled mess from throwing it all over the place to keep it out of my face.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so worried about my clothing choice.
He shrugged. “They worked together for…I guess…fifteen years.”
“He told us everything was going well at the time of your dad’s death. But Jillian found an article in the Uppland Herald stating questions were raised about the management of the two businesses. Some business men from the area sought to sue your father over breeched contracts that Mr. Thompson had been involved in, which ultimately fell on Mr. Newen.”
Christopher halted and ran a hand through his lush dark hair. “I knew nothing about it.” He looked like I’d knocked the wind out of him. “How’d it get missed by the police, though?”
“I couldn’t find any other article or court record to show anything was filed or ruled on in the court system. They must’ve backed down in the end.”
His hand went to his stomach. “Why wouldn’t Dad talk to me about something so serious? I had little to do with his businesses, but still, he could’ve come to me about something like that.”
I dared not reach for his arm even though I wanted to. The last time I’d done so, he’d acted like I had a contagious disease. “Do you think he didn’t want to burden you?”
“I’m sure, but…”
Ava changed to her business tone. “We’ll talk to Mr. Thompson tomorrow and get answers. Don’t worry.” Her phone played a song designated to her fiancé Cory. I’d heard the ringtone so many times in the past few weeks I’d want to stomp the cell into the ground if it went off one more time. Ava hit talk. “Give me a minute.”
“You need to change that horrible ringtone,” I muttered through gritted teeth.
Ava only wrinkled her nose at me and hurried to the dining room as she went into her usual lovey-dovey salutation that made me want to barf. I hoped someone would punch me if I ever gave in to that kind of sappy junk.
Her own phone in hand, Jillian googled a restaurant. “Let me look at the dinner menu for Georgie’s while we wait for her. What are you in the mood to eat?”
Jillian was so clueless about people’s emotions. I shook my head and gave Christopher a big smile. I might not be able to read body language too well, but at least I knew when someone was hurting. He’d pulled the typical guy card of indifference when we mentioned the lawsuits, but I saw past it in the depths of his eyes. He stilled, his stare pinning me. My smile faltered and my stomach clenched in a funny way.
Christopher looked away, breaking the brief moment of intensity between us. I backed away toward the front door. If I didn’t stop reading into things, I’d get myself into something I didn’t want before this case closed.
But when Christopher touched my arm, I stopped on the porch and stared up at him, a wave of tingles riding from his fingers up my arm.
&
nbsp; He pressed a hand to his mouth. “Do you think we could talk later?”
“I’d like to—I mean, I’m here when you need me— We is what I mean. We are here if you need us.” I winced. Could I be more obvious? Yet why’d I even sound like I was intimating anything at all? Hadn’t I decided to keep him at bay?
“I mean you. Just you.”
17
Christopher
The fruit stand was more than a little tourist business. It was my father’s essence.
Nothing had changed at the fruit stand and souvenir shop since I’d been here a month ago. The building housed a store with crafts and souvenirs and an office. My father installed a bathroom ten years ago so he wouldn’t have to keep trekking to the porta potty at the edge of the property. A cool breeze rifled my hair as I glanced over the water-stained siding to the empty shelves in graduated formation that once held jams and cider.
How I’d hated to hang the large “closed” sign months ago. It swayed as I approached and ran a hand along one of the shelves, working to bid the past back into its place. Out of sight, out of my thoughts.
If the investigative team would hurry up and get here, I could be done with this visit. I strode from one end of the gravel parking lot and back, cars and eighteen wheelers whizzing by fast enough to shake my own truck as they went. Funny how Dad hadn’t insisted I take over the businesses. He’d understood that I had my own goals and life that might not include antiques and fruit.
Years of hating the idea of an entrepreneur life all culminated to this one moment. Didn’t I know what I wanted? Really, I couldn’t let the mini malls and antique shop go even though I never wanted any part in them before. Not yet. But all of the businesses I’d inherited needed my attention. And the fact that I had to make a decision to either sell or step up and take over all the extra work Ned Thompson was doing to keep them afloat hadn’t gone away when I dove into work at the train yard and volunteer fire department. What was I going to do?