by Diana Miller
# # #
The good news was that despite too many Walt’s specials, Lexie wasn’t a bit hungover the next morning. The bad news was she remembered exactly what she’d done last night, and she couldn’t believe it. What had she been thinking, throwing herself at Ben?
Actually, the problem was she’d been too drunk to think, which never would have happened if Ben hadn’t told her Walt watered down his drinks. It also had been far too long since she’d kissed anyone, and Ben was world-class when it came to that activity. His claim to be unbelievable in bed might not be false bravado, not that she was ever going to find out.
Her problem now was facing him. The instant they were alone, she’d apologize for being drunk and acting totally out of character. Or maybe she should pretend to have been so drunk she didn’t remember the kiss. She’d play it by ear.
At least she’d beat him at pool, drunk or not.
To Lexie’s relief, when she got to breakfast, only Cecilia and Jeremy were there.
“Ben already left for work,” Cecilia said.
“Since Ben’s busy today, I’ll take you boating,” Jeremy said. “A friend from the Cities loaned me his Fountain 38 Lightning to use while I’m here. It’s docked at the Lakeview Marina.”
The Cities presumably meant the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul. Lexie had no idea what a Fountain Lightning was, but it must be some kind of powerboat. Powerboats were nearly as high on her Things to Avoid list as motorcycles. “I can’t. Sorry.” She should talk to Jeremy sometime, but she planned to do it in a more comfortable setting.
“Why not?” Jeremy asked.
Admitting she was a wimp might be an option for Catherine, but not for Lexie. “I’m taking classes online so I can finish college, and I have a paper due,” she improvised. That would also give her an excuse to use her laptop.
“I’ll give you a rain check.”
“Why do Ben and Jeremy hate each other?” Lexie asked after Jeremy had left. Knowing that might give her insight into both Ben and Jeremy’s possible motives.
“Jeremy grew up in Lakeview. He was the most popular guy in school, the best looking, best at sports, the top student,” Cecilia said. “Then Ben’s mom died, and Ben moved in with Grandfather. Ben was as smart and athletic as Jeremy, but also a bad boy from Los Angeles, which made him way more interesting than a guy who’d spent his entire life here. Jeremy resented it and tried to prove he was better than Ben, who did his best to prove Jeremy wasn’t. From what Seth told me, it got ridiculous. Every girl one of them looked at, the other one went after. Every sport one of them was in, the other started.”
“Testosterone makes men act like idiots.”
“Doesn’t it?” Cecilia said as she refilled Lexie’s cup, then her own. “There also was Grandfather. We all idolized him—I mean, he was a cool guy and wrote books that were made into movies that scared our friends to death. When Grandfather took Ben in, it was hard for all of us not to be jealous, but it was hardest for Jeremy. Before then, Jeremy had spent the most time with Grandfather, but suddenly Ben was living with him. Jeremy resented it.”
“That all happened when they were kids. Haven’t they outgrown it yet?”
“Olivia only happened three years ago,” Cecilia said. “Ben’s ex-wife. Jeremy convinced her to leave Ben for him.”
Lexie’s jaw dropped. “He broke up Ben’s marriage?” She hadn’t seen that one coming.
“Yeah. That went way over the line, in my book. Especially when it seems to have been more competition than true love, since after a couple of months, Jeremy broke things off with Olivia. By then Ben wasn’t about to take her back, which is the only good part of the whole scenario. I’ll bet Jeremy tries to take you away from Ben out of habit. Not that he wouldn’t like you for yourself, of course,” she added quickly.
“It’s okay. I get your meaning.”
Cecilia tilted her head, her dark hair skimming one shoulder. “You could use Jeremy’s interest to make Ben jealous. You might be able to get him to commit that way.”
“I’m not in the market for commitment.”
“Good call.” Cecilia made a face. “Take the advice of someone who’s just finished with husband number three. Don’t get married until you’re too old to worry about it ending other than by death do us part. Divorce sucks.”
If she were friends with Cecilia, she’d get more information than if they were simply acquaintances. And Lexie knew the perfect topic to bond over. “I’m divorced, too,” she admitted. “Only once, but it truly sucked.”
“Is that how you can afford your expensive clothes?” Cecilia asked. “I can’t believe any consignment store would have this season’s Jimmy Choos, but I figured you had a sugar daddy and didn’t want Ben to know.”
“No, a successful ex-husband.” Lexie didn’t have to fake her look of distaste. “I dropped out of college after a year to get married and put Neil through med school, then he had seven years of residency. I worked two jobs most of the time. Finally Neil was a cardiac surgeon and making big bucks. So naturally he decided he was in love with a twenty-three-year-old massage therapist and wanted a divorce.”
“The shit.”
“That describes him. Luckily I had a good lawyer. Neil’s still paying me off.” A pity that last part was a lie, since monthly payments would not have made darling Deidre happy. Of course, the part about supporting Neil wasn’t true, either—he had even more family money than Lexie did.
“I never believe any woman who claims to be friends with her ex,” Cecilia said. “I hate every damn one of them.”
“No argument here,” Lexie said. “That’s why Ben and I don’t have anything serious going on. I’ve sworn off serious.”
“Whereas I keep trying. I always think this is the guy who’s going to rescue me and make me happy for the rest of my life. I’m always wrong.”
“Rescue you?” Lexie’s forehead furrowed. “From what?”
Cecilia waved a perfectly manicured hand. “From a life on welfare and food stamps. I dropped out of college after two years to get married, but unlike you, I didn’t get a job. I’ve never had a job in my life, just husbands who supported me.”
“Now that you’ll be inheriting your grandfather’s money, you’ll have the opportunity to think about what you really want to do with your life,” Lexie said. “Maybe you should consider a career instead of another husband. Not that it’s any of my business.” They hadn’t bonded that much.
“Maybe you’re right,” Cecilia said, apparently unoffended by the unsolicited advice. “I viewed my inheritance as giving me breathing room before I settle on husband number four, but maybe I should go back to school instead.” Her attention shifted to Dylan, who was walking into the dining room. “You’re up early.”
Dylan filled a coffee cup, then sat down at the table. His face was darkly stubbled, his eyes puffy, his Grateful Dead T-shirt wrinkled. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping since I saw Grandfather. This place gives me the creeps.”
“You mean since you dreamed you saw Grandfather,” Cecilia said.
“It wasn’t a dream.”
Seth walked into the dining room, for once without his camera. “What were you saying about seeing Grandfather?”
“That I really saw him, damn it!” Dylan said, slamming his fist on the white damask tablecloth. His cup shuddered, and coffee sloshed onto the saucer. “I didn’t just dream it. He was sitting in a chair in my bedroom.”
“And told you he knew what you’d done,” Seth said, sitting down beside Dylan. “What was he talking about?”
“I don’t know,” Dylan said. “But first he told me he was sick of the way I’ve been wasting my life. He said if he hadn’t died, he might have disinherited me just so I’d have to get my ass in gear.”
“That proves it wasn’t Grandfather,” Cecilia said. “He’d never have disinherited you.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” he said, staring into his steaming coffee. “A couple of weeks b
efore he died, he really laid into me and did say he was sick of the way I’ve been wasting my life. He was pissed because he’d heard a rumor I was in hock to the Mafia. I told him it wasn’t true, which it isn’t. Although I didn’t mention I’d borrowed from an independent lender.” He looked up. “Maybe Grandfather found out, and that’s what he meant when he said he knew what I’d done.”
“And your guilty conscience about that made you dream you saw Grandfather,” Cecilia said. “Although Lexie believes you saw his ghost.”
Dylan looked at Lexie. “Really?”
“You believe in ghosts?” Seth asked.
“I believe people who die untimely deaths sometimes come back to complete things they didn’t finish in their lifetimes,” Lexie said. “Did you and your grandfather get along while he was alive, Dylan?”
Dylan shrugged one shoulder. “Well enough. When he wasn’t trying to get me to check into some rehab place.”
“He was worried about you,” Cecilia said. “You need to get your addictions under control, or you’re going to die an early death. Like Dad did.”
“I think being married to our mother might have hastened his death. Mother can be a real bitch,” Dylan told Lexie. “Although luckily she was usually too busy either with her newest husband or hunting for the next to pay much attention to us.”
“I’m sure Lexie doesn’t want to hear about our family problems,” Cecilia said.
“You should meet my mother,” Lexie said. Yet another topic she and Cecilia could bond over. “Back to your grandfather’s ghost. Maybe he’s so worried about you that he came back to try to convince you to change. Especially now that you’re inheriting enough to pay off your creditors, stop gambling, and figure out what you want to do with your life.” Lexie raised her coffee cup to hide a frown. She wasn’t just pretending to believe in ghosts, she was also channeling Dr. Phil.
“I’ve already figured it out,” Dylan said, rocking back in his chair. “I’m going to enjoy myself.”
“Until you run out of money,” Seth said. “Then what?”
Dylan righted his chair. “I’ll worry about that if it happens. It would be worse to die with unspent money.”
“You’re impossible.” Cecilia got to her feet, shaking her head.
“Is this yours?” Lexie picked up a gold and diamond tennis bracelet on the table to the left of Cecilia’s plate.
“The clasp must have come undone,” Cecilia said, taking it from Lexie. “I love that bracelet. It’s the only good thing husband number two left me with.” She fastened the clasp, then looked up, her lips twisting ruefully. “You know, my only good memories of my husbands are a few pieces of jewelry. I think you’re right—I need to take time for myself.”
“You go, girl.”
“I just might. Thanks for the advice. And here’s some for you—if you want to stay on Ben’s good side, stay away from Jeremy.”
# # #
After breakfast Lexie retrieved her laptop and a file from the trunk of her car. Too bad she didn’t really have a paper to write—the most arcane topic a professor could come up with would be more interesting than her work To Do list.
She was delighted when Igor stopped her the moment she stepped back into the house with a request from Trey that she come to his office. Trey probably wanted her to deliver a message to Ben, but with luck she could drag out their conversation.
Trey’s office was a good-sized room just off the kitchen, furnished with a dark wood desk and matching file cabinets, as well as traditional office equipment. The floor covering, however, was decidedly untraditional—a room-sized rug in black, red, and cream, decorated with bloody daggers and spiderwebs.
“Nice carpet,” Lexie said.
“A gift from Max. Sit down.” Trey indicated a chair in front of his desk.
“How long have you known Ben?” he asked when Lexie was seated.
She should have guessed that Trey would be concerned about protecting the interests of his old friend’s grandson. “I met him a month ago at a wedding in Lexington, but we’ve both agreed it’s nothing serious. You don’t have to worry I’m a gold-digger.”
“I wasn’t worried about that.”
Maybe he was worried about Ben’s feelings. “If I were using Ben to get his grandfather to help with my writing, I wouldn’t have bothered coming here after he died,” Lexie added. “In case you’ve heard I’m a writer.”
“I hadn’t,” he said. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if you inherited your aunt’s talent, in addition to her eyes.”
CHAPTER 8
Lexie blinked the eyes in question. “What are you talking about?”
“I suspected who you were when I met you,” Trey said. “You really do have your aunt’s eyes. When I googled your law firm and saw your photo, I knew I was right.”
Denying it would clearly be futile. “Did you know Aunt Jessica well?” Lexie asked.
“Fairly well. I was usually around when she came here to visit Max. She was a charming, talented, beautiful lady. I can see why Max loved her.” Trey idly tapped his pen on his legal pad. “My only question is why you’re pretending to be Ben’s girlfriend. If I had to guess, I’d say it was because Ben isn’t satisfied that Max’s death was an accident and contacted you about it and the earlier attempts on Max’s life.”
Lexie thought for a moment, chewing her lower lip. Ben didn’t want Trey to know what they were doing out of fear he might give them away, not because he was a suspect. And Trey might be able to help. He’d worked for Max for a long time and knew the family. He’d also be anxious to see his best friend’s killer brought to justice.
“Actually, Max contacted me,” Lexie admitted, then explained about the letter.
When she’d finished, Trey’s mouth twisted wryly. “Max always knew what buttons to push.”
“I’m not going along with it just because of my duty as a lawyer,” Lexie said. “It’s also because Aunt Jessica would have wanted me to do it. And because I liked Max and owed him a lot.”
“I can certainly understand that. Max was my best friend for more than thirty years.” Trey shook his head. “I’m still having trouble believing he’s gone.”
“He’s lucky to have had you,” Lexie said. “He always told me that anything to do with money and numbers bored him so much that without you, he’d have been out on the streets for failure to pay his bills.”
“True.” Trey smiled faintly. “Not that I could ever understand the sentiment, especially when you’ve got as much money as Max had, but then I’m an accountant.”
Lexie laughed. “I never got it, either, but Aunt Jessica was the same way. I think it’s one of those left-brain things that affects exceptionally talented artists.” Then something Trey had said earlier hit her. “You knew about the prior attempts on Max’s life?”
Trey nodded. “I was at Easter dinner when he had what he claimed was a gallbladder attack. A few days later his doctor asked me if Max honestly would have taken poison for a book, which is apparently how Max explained the poison. Bill and I play poker together every Thursday, and he was worried Max might be losing it. He didn’t mention the kind of poison, so I assumed it was something mild and reassured the good doctor that Max was completely sane and probably had done it for a book. Max could get a little fanatic about his writing.”
“What about the shooting?”
Trey pursed his lips. “I didn’t know about that until Max showed me the tabloid article about it. Then I started questioning whether Max really had taken the poison intentionally. I didn’t feel I could ask him about it since Bill had probably violated some medical privacy law mentioning it to me, although he’d assumed Max had already told me the truth. So I told Max I didn’t believe any group had shot out his window, because he hadn’t mentioned getting threatening letters to me. He said he didn’t tell me everything and to drop it. He was so vehement that I did.” Trey closed his eyes for a moment, pain flickering across his features. “God, I wish I hadn’t.”<
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“The cops probably wouldn’t have found anything,” Lexie said. “According to Ben, they give new meaning to ‘incompetent.’”
“I might have been able to convince Max to hire a P.I.,” Trey said. “Although knowing Max, probably not. And Ben’s right about our local law enforcement. I assume that’s why Max wanted you to check this out.”
“He was also afraid that someone else might discover some unrelated family secrets during their investigation and make them public.”
Trey started tapping again. “He had a point. Max has always been so protective of his privacy that the tabloids will pay a fortune for any dirt related to him or his family. They’ll pay even more right after his death. But he knew you’d never expose anything, both because you were his attorney and because of your aunt. How did Ben get involved?”
“Max sent him a letter asking him to work with me.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Max trusted Ben implicitly.”
Something in his voice made Lexie look at him curiously. “Do you know a reason he shouldn’t have?”
“Only that I don’t think you should trust any beneficiary when you’re dealing with as much money as Max had,” Trey said. “I like Ben. For what it’s worth, he’s never tried to cheat me on a car repair, even though he knows I know nothing about cars and would do whatever he recommended and pay whatever he asked.”
“Do you know if any family member is desperate for money?” Lexie asked.
“Muriel,” Trey said immediately. “She went through all of her inheritance from her late husband making contributions to her favorite religions and is now living on her social security. She hasn’t made a mortgage payment for months and is actually in danger of being foreclosed on. Which is ironic considering her late husband, Harold, was president of the bank holding the mortgage.”
“Did Max know about that?”
Trey nodded. “She tried to borrow money from Max a couple of months before he died, and I couldn’t help overhearing. He told her he wasn’t about to finance Billy Graham’s ministries, the Vatican, Buddhism Today, and that Wicca church or school or whatever the hell it is with his hard-earned cash.”