“Yes,” I said, turning the key in my front door lock. “Rick and I are very different people.”
“What a pretty cat!” Marissa said as I opened the door. She bent down and reached for Henry. He laid his ears back, arched his back, spit and hissed at her then swiped at her hand with one paw. She screamed and jerked away.
“Be careful,” I cautioned. “He’s part mountain lion.” Yes, that was an outrageous lie, but she started it. Come to help out with whatever we can. Give me a break!
Henry kept his distance, making it obvious he didn’t like the new guests. He slunk around, a series of growling sounds coming from deep in his throat. Feline cursing. This confirmed that these people were related to Rick. Henry had always given him that same treatment.
“The guest room is upstairs.” I indicated the stairs then waved a hand toward my big, cushy sofa patterned with lots of brightly colored flowers. “One of you can sleep here.” I then indicated the hardwood floor on the other side of the coffee table. “And one of you can sleep here.” Yes, I could have offered to borrow an air mattress from Fred, but I saw no reason to try to make my unwelcome guests comfortable. Even the manners my mother instilled in me have some limitations.
Brad and Clint exchanged disappointed glances. Marissa smiled tightly. “We’ll make do with whatever you can offer. We do so appreciate your hospitality, and it means so much to be with someone else who loved Rick.”
I decided to let that last comment pass unchallenged, though if they knew so much about me, I was pretty sure they’d know it wasn’t true.
I led them upstairs to my guest room with its small antique bed that barely held a double sized mattress. Marissa’s smile got even tighter, but she set her bags down. “Where is the guest bath?”
“Down the hall. It’s the guest bath and the master bath all in one. When this house was built, indoor plumbing was considered an extravagance. Nobody even thought about having more than one bathroom.”
“Thank you so much. We’ll be just fine, won’t we, boys?”
“Yes, Mama,” they both mumbled. I could tell they weren’t at all certain they were going to be just fine.
“While you get settled in, I need to feed my cat. If he doesn’t get his dinner on time, he’s been known to attack the nearest food source.” I looked pointedly at Marissa’s tanned arm that Henry had lashed out at already. She nodded vaguely. I think she wasn’t sure whether to believe me but decided it best to err on the side of caution.
I went downstairs and filled Henry’s food bowl. I debated whether to give him some catnip. He loves that particular herb, and it would alleviate his anxiety about having those people in his home. But I didn’t trust Rick’s relations. I needed Henry on full alert, my guard cat. He’d just have to tough it out and get through the evening sober.
Henry finished his food and asked to go outside. I opened the back door. “You’re on curfew tonight,” I warned him. “Be home before dark.”
He looked up at me, gave a short meow and slipped out the door. He’d be back when he got good and ready. We both knew it.
My phone rang, the landline . I cringed. My mother always called on that line. She refused to have anything to do with “those awful cell phones that can give you brain cancer.” And it didn’t matter if the cell phone was only on the caller’s end.
I really didn’t want to talk to her at that moment. Or any moment in the next few hours, for that matter. But I lifted the receiver. “Hello?”
“Are you all right?”
Fred. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re not answering your cell phone, and there’s a car sitting in front of your house that’s rented by a woman who doesn’t exist.”
Silly me, thinking I’d have to ask Fred to find out about Marissa’s Cadillac. “Couldn’t hear the cell phone over the people talking, and that woman definitely exists, just probably under another name. Or several other names.”
“Marissa Malone?”
I laughed. “Yeah. Rick’s mom.”
“Rick’s mother?” I’d finally managed to surprise Fred.
“Who knows what her real name is? She and Rick’s two brothers changed their names after dear old Dad departed.”
“Brothers?” I loved it. He was totally confused for once. “Rick’s father really is dead, not in prison somewhere?”
“You know all those lies Rick told me about his family? Seems he had good reason to keep them hidden. I don’t know if Dad’s dead or just hiding from Mom. Guess it doesn’t matter. He’s gone somewhere, as opposed to the rest of the family who are right here in my house.”
“What are they doing at your house?”
“Spending the night.” I sighed. “They planned to stay at Rick’s house, but it’s got that awful yellow tape all around it.”
“Yeah, the cops have a habit of doing that when somebody gets blown to bits. I don’t like the idea of their staying with you.”
“Neither do I and neither does Henry. But it should be just the one night. I talked to Lawson, and he’s going to try to get Rick’s house released tomorrow.”
“Are you sure they’re really Rick’s family members?”
“Probably. They look like him, and Henry reacts to them the same way he reacts to Rick. They’re here to grab his estate, and I’m more than happy to let them have it, whoever they are.”
“You’ll be leaving at four in the morning to go to work. Are you going to leave them alone in your house?”
I thought about that for a moment. “No. They’ll be leaving at four o’clock too.”
“Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks, I will.”
“I mean it. Anything. Like a mad man coming through the door with a machine gun.”
I burst into laughter, remembering when I’d asked Fred to do that to get rid of Rick, never expecting he really would. He really did.
I hung up then went into the living room to retrieve my cell phone from my purse where I’d left it on the coffee table.
Mama was sitting on the sofa between the two boys while Brad flipped through the channels on my nineteen inch TV.
“No cable?” he asked.
Further proof this was Rick’s family.
I waved a hand at the built-in oak bookcase that covered most of one wall of the room. “I have plenty of reading material.”
The boys looked at each other then at their mother as if for guidance about what to do in such a strange situation.
She smiled. Of course she did. “Let’s sit down and talk. We have so many plans to make, the funeral and everything.”
I sat in the recliner and checked my cell phone. Five calls from Fred and three from Trent. I needed to call Trent back, but I might as well get this conversation with Marissa out of the way first. It wouldn’t take long.
“Do whatever you want about the funeral,” I said. “If he hadn’t been killed, Rick and I would be divorced. I’d have this house, Paula’s rental house next door, my restaurant and all accounts that are in my name only. Unless he left a Will, and I can’t imagine that he did since he thought he’d live forever, all the rest is yours.”
Marissa blinked rapidly a couple of times. “I see,” she said, her voice a couple of octaves lower than it had been before. “However, as his wife, you’re entitled to half of his estate even if he didn’t leave a Will.”
“I’m entitled to my half of our estate. But I told you what I want. Take everything else and welcome to it.”
For the first time, Marissa really smiled. So did her sons. The atmosphere lightened considerably.
“Okay,” I said, “let’s order a pizza, have dinner and then go to bed. I get up at four o’clock to open the restaurant, and we’re all leaving when I leave because I have to set the security system.” No, I didn’t have a security system, but it sounded like a good excuse for getting them out and keeping them out.
“Order a pizza? You don’t
cook?” Clint asked. “You have a restaurant, and you don’t cook?”
“I make chocolate desserts. If you’d like brownies for dinner, I can fix you right up. Otherwise, we’ll have pizza.”
His mother patted his leg, and he shut up.
I picked up my cell phone to call in the pizza order, but it rang before I had a chance to hit the speed dial. I didn’t recognize the number, but it wasn’t blocked like a sales call so I answered.
“Lindsay, it’s Bryan Kollar.”
Like I wouldn’t recognize that compelling baritone voice from his commercials. Even though I’d decided I didn’t much like the guy, I could have listened to that voice for at least an hour or two. Maybe he was descended from one of the Sirens. “Yes, Bryan. What can I do for you?” In the siege of relatives, I’d forgotten about my earlier conversation with Beautiful Bryan. I had my hands and my house full at the moment and didn’t really want to deal with him, exquisite voice notwithstanding.
“If you have a minute—”
“I don’t, actually,” I said, interrupting him. Rude of me, I know. My mother would be mortified. “I’m in the middle of something, very tied up right now.”
“No problem. I can come by your restaurant tomorrow.”
“What? No. Why would you do that?”
“I took the liberty of having my attorney draw up some papers about our intent to do business,” he said smoothly.
“Oh, yeah. Your parents’ property. About that, I don’t know if I can sign those papers—”
“You said it wouldn’t be a problem, that you’d be happy to return the property to me.” He interrupted me that time. We were even.
“I said I’d give it back to you as soon as I’m legally able to do so. Well, something’s come up, and I may not be legally able to give you back that property.”
“What’s come up? Why wouldn’t you be able to give me back that property?” His voice was no longer so compelling. In fact, it had become downright scary. Threatening.
“Turns out Rick’s family didn’t die in that horrible plane crash after all. His mother and two brothers are sitting right here in my living room.” I kept my gaze focused on the floor. I should have gone into the kitchen to take the call.
“I see,” Bryan said.
“Okay, look, I’ll get back to you when we get this sorted out.”
“May I come over and talk to Mrs. Kramer?”
“Not tonight.”
“When?”
My phone beeped for call waiting and showed a call coming in from Trent.
“I’ll get back to you as soon as I can set up something. Gotta go now. Cops are on the other line.”
I accepted Trent’s call, cutting Bryan off.
“It’s about time,” he said. “I was getting worried. I’m on my way over there.”
“By all means, come on. Party’s at my place. BYOP, bring your own pizza.”
“I can do that. What’s this Lawson’s telling me about Rick’s mother and brothers arriving in town?”
“Oh, yeah. We’ll discuss that later.”
“Later? Why? Are they there now?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“At your house?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“For the night?”
“At least.”
“I don’t like that. They may be imposters.”
“Yeah, that’s possible. I don’t really care.”
He gave a long sigh. “His former wife and son who came into the station today may be imposters too.”
Chapter Seven
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Marissa said when I hung up, “but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation.” I resisted the urge to tell her that polite manners dictated when you accidentally overheard something, you were supposed to pretend you hadn’t. I didn’t think Marissa would be interested in learning manners at that late date. “Who is Bryan and what property are you talking about giving back to him?”
I really wished she’d sit there and be quiet and give me a chance to wrap my brain around this latest news. An ex-wife? A son? I’d learned more about Rick in the twenty-four hours since his death than in the eight years I was married to him. But I shoved those thoughts to the back of my mind and explained the Bryan situation to Marissa.
“So this was a piece of property Rick bought as an investment?” She’d gone from simpering lady to shrewd real estate investor.
“I suppose. I really don’t know any of the details. If it was up to me, I’d sell the property back to Kollar’s family, but it’s probably going to be up to you what you do with it.”
She nodded. “I’d like to find out what Rick planned to do with it.”
“We may never know.” That should keep her up half the night.
She smiled. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll find something. Did he have a computer?”
“He had a laptop he took everywhere with him. It probably got blown up in the explosion.”
She pondered that. Her smile slipped briefly but then returned. “When we get into his house, we’ll find out.”
I had a feeling if she couldn’t figure out what Rick had planned to do with the property, she’d come up with an alternative plan for it, one that would bring her a lot of money and leave Bryan’s parents sucking wind.
After what seemed like an eternity of trying to make small talk with Marissa, I was rescued by Trent’s arrival with a pizza. I greeted him at the door. “Thank goodness you’re here.”
“Are you that hungry?”
“No.”
Henry appeared like a ghost from out of the gathering dusk and strolled inside with Trent.
I shut the door behind the two guys and turned to my uninvited guests. “This is my boyfriend,” I said, no longer caring if the Malone/West/Parker contingency thought I had been immoral by seeing another man while still legally tied to their worthless son and brother. “Marissa Malone, Clint West, Brad Parker, this is Adam Trent. Detective Adam Trent of the Pleasant Grove Police Department.” I’d told them a friend was coming with pizza. I waited until he got there to tell them he was a cop so we could observe their initial reactions together. That’s what romance is all about, sharing the little things.
Marissa paled, but still managed a smile. The boys rose to shake hands. Trent set the pizza on the coffee table and accepted their hands in turn. We were all so polite.
I went to the kitchen and returned with Cokes, paper plates and paper towels.
“Are you investigating my son’s murder?” Marissa asked.
“Not officially,” Trent replied.
Because of his relationship with me, he wasn’t officially involved, but I knew he was smack dab in the middle of it. Marissa didn’t need to know that information.
We ate pizza in silence for a few minutes. Henry sat in the corner of the room, watching every movement, occasionally switching his tail. He takes his guard cat duties seriously. Or he was waiting for somebody to drop a bit of pizza. Whatever.
After everybody set their empty plates and Coke cans on the coffee table, I rose to gather them up and take them to the kitchen, but Trent stopped me. “I’ll do that. You brought it all in. You just sit there and relax.”
He put the plates and napkins inside the empty box then carefully picked up all the Coke cans by the bent tabs, set them on the box and took everything to the kitchen. I knew what he was doing. I’d been a cop’s almost-girlfriend long enough to know a few things. He’d take the cans in and have them fingerprinted, find out exactly who we were dealing with.
He came back and resumed his seat in the arm chair. “So you folks drove in from St. Louis?” he asked. He was doing the Mr. Stone Face cop thing. I felt a happy tingle. Mama and the boys were in trouble.
“Yes,” she said.
“Just got in town today?”
“That’s right.”
“What part of St. Louis do you live in?”
Marissa shifted slightly on the sofa. “We don’t exactly live there right now.
We move around a lot.”
“Demands of your job?”
“Yes, we have a small real estate company, and we move from town to town depending on the availability of properties.”
Aha! No wonder Rick was so good at what he did. He’d learned it growing up in the family business.
I suspected Mama and the boys moved from town to town in order to avoid being lynched after they scammed somebody.
“When did you get to Kansas City?”
It suddenly dawned on me that Trent was trying to determine if she had an alibi for the time of the murder! Well, he’d asked me. Why shouldn’t he ask her?
Marissa wasn’t new to this game. She gave him a crimped smile. “We got here just after noon today. As I said, we drove in from St. Louis. We were staying with friends there who’ll be happy to verify that we were with them all day yesterday.”
Trent nodded. “I see. Ever been to Crappie Creek?”
For anyone not familiar with fish, it’s pronounced croppy, not crappy, but I think either pronunciation is appropriate for that small, desolate town in southern Missouri.
Marissa flinched when he said the name. She’d obviously been there. For a moment she said nothing as if deciding whether to lie or tell the truth. I had no doubt if she hadn’t known Trent was a cop, she’d have opted for lying. Finally she gave a broad smile. “Of course I’ve been there. All my boys were born there.”
Rick had claimed various cities as his place of birth—Dallas, New York, London, Los Angeles, Houston—but Crappie Creek had never made the list. I almost regretted that Rick was dead. I would have loved to be able to throw all these new-found truths in his face, confront him with his lies.
I tried to share a gotcha glance with Trent, but he kept his gaze focused on his target. “Did you know Grace Ganyon when you lived in Crappie Creek?”
Red crept up Marissa’s neck and suffused her face. Her jaw tightened though she never lost her smile. It just began to look more like a grimace than a smile. “It’s a small town. Everybody knows everybody. Of course I know Grace.”
Sally Berneathy - Death by Chocolate 03 - The Great Chocolate Scam Page 4