Kip’s expression was glum, but his sudden change in posture—his shoulders dropped, his gaze slid to the floor—told me he would agree to Underhill’s terms if Stuart would. “This coming Monday and Tuesday.”
Stuart silently considered. His demeanor had also changed, but he seemed to be withholding his consent until he felt it was prudent to agree. If he gave in too quickly, he would be seen as weak.
“This is the best we can do,” Underhill said. “After he finishes work in the greenhouse, don’t let him in your house again.” He shot a scathing look at Kip.
Kip looked away.
“This isn’t what I’m owed, but I’ll agree,” Stuart said. He trained his eyes on Kip. “And you will not dare work anyplace but my greenhouse. You’re not to even talk about my collection.”
“Fine,” Kip said. “I’m not interested in that stuff anyway.”
“Not interested?” Stuart chortled. “Is that why you took it? The last time I was at Wyatt’s I told you I collected, and you said you were interested in the medieval too. You couldn’t stop talking about it. Said you loved to read about archaeological digs at medieval sites. And then you dumped a plate of beef Stroganoff on my wife’s brand-new dress. Her anniversary dress.”
“That was an accident!”
“You laughed about it with the staff!” Enraged, Stuart waved his arms about, nearly coming out of his seat. “Do you have any idea what that did to her? Can you comprehend how she felt?”
“That’s enough,” Underhill said. “We’re done here. We’ve agreed. Mr. Dempster, present yourself to Mr. Hunter at nine o’clock on Monday and Tuesday. You will work until five o’clock both days. If you don’t appear, I will arrest you and charge you with theft, regardless of what any prosecutor says. It will be on your record. Agreed?”
“I already said yes,” Kip mumbled.
“Mr. Hunter,” Underhill said, turning to Stuart, “you will assign normal greenhouse tasks to Mr. Dempster and you will control your temper or I’ll suspend the agreement. I suggest you give him work to do and then keep your distance. Agreed?”
“Whatever you say, Officer. I’ve learned to lower my expectations when it comes to the Juniper Grove Police Department.”
Hearing a text tone, I pulled my phone from my back pocket and took several steps away from Kip and Stuart. “No luck with McDermott,” Holly had texted. “On warpath. Dirty. Tell Gilroy.”
I messaged her back, telling her I was at the station and to come immediately. I had news. Not enough to return Gilroy’s badge to him, but it was something. When I looked up, Stuart and Kip, looking equally defeated, were heading for the door.
“You’ve been unlucky with thieves,” I said to Stuart.
Thinking I was commiserating, he stopped and smiled wanly. “Yes, I have. And as you can see, there’s no justice for it.”
“Justice is important,” I said. “So why didn’t you make a complaint against Brynne?”
Stuart sucked in his breath. A quick but noticeable intake.
I’d knocked him off balance, but only momentarily. “What on earth are you talking about, Miss Stowe? What complaint would I have?”
“Theft,” I said. “She stole your jade carving.”
“She did? I had no idea. Nothing is missing.”
“It never left the house.”
Stuart stared stonily at me.
“Why would you go after Kip but let Brynne off the hook?” I asked.
“I said . . . I never . . . Kipton admitted to taking the cross, so . . . I’ll have to look into this jade. As I said, nothing is missing.”
Kip watched mutely as Stuart floundered.
Underhill planted himself by the door. “What’s this about a jade carving?”
“Brynne tried to steal it,” I replied.
The door opened, Underhill turned, and Julia and Holly entered, worming their way around him. “It’s Grand Central Station,” Julia said.
“I’m going,” Stuart said. “I have things to do.”
“Hang on a minute, Mr. Hunter,” Underhill said, folding his arms across his chest. “I want to hear this. Rachel?”
“Stuart, when you asked us to look at your medieval collection,” I said, “we were all supposed to go up the central stairs. Chief Gilroy and I stopped in the foyer, right by the stairs. But Maurice went ahead of us, and he saw Brynne walk past the stairs. Then he saw you follow her.”
Stuart stuck his chin in the air and threw back his shoulders. “It’s my house!” he barked. “I wondered what she was up to, snooping around my collections, touching things. Valuable things.”
He didn’t seem to notice he was digging a hole for himself.
“And you found out what she was doing,” I said.
“How would you know what I found out? Unless you’re lying about being by the stairs—or Gilroy put you up to lying. That’s more likely, considering what he did to my wife. He must have been by the stairs for two seconds.”
I’d had enough. His grief did not entitle him to denigrate the most decent and honest man I’d ever known. “Brynne told me, Stuart. She said she took your jade carving and dropped it on the back stairs when you forced her to go ahead of you.”
“What’s this?” Underhill said.
“You saw her drop it,” I said.
Kip edged a little closer. He ran a hand through his boy-like bangs.
“Brynne’s a liar,” Stuart said.
“Brynne had no reason to lie about taking the jade,” I said. “Why would she admit to stealing something?”
“Thieves and liars,” Stuart mumbled. “In my house, eating my food, drinking my champagne.”
“I’ve been trying to figure out what happened to the jade after Brynne dropped it,” I continued. “I looked for the back stairs that night, and when I found them, I went up to the second floor.” I shook my head. “There was no jade carving on the stairs. There was nothing on the stairs.”
Stuart jutted out his chin. “Your conclusion?”
“If Brynne dropped the carving after Lesley screamed, and we all ran upstairs, who went back to retrieve the jade?”
“It’s obvious. She did.”
“Gilroy searched her and her purse before she left.”
“She hid it, like Kipton with the cross.”
“No. Gilroy made everyone head downstairs to the great room, Brynne included. I was there, Stuart. She never returned to the back stairs. No one did. Everyone went down the main stairs to the great room—you, Kip, Brynne, Jova. Every single one of you, waiting your turn to be interviewed. You were told not to leave or talk.”
Stuart began to shift his weight, one foot to the other. “Is this going somewhere?” he said.
“Then you asked Gilroy if you could lie down upstairs, and he said yes. I passed you on the main stairs, remember? No one else had a chance to grab that carving, Stuart. No one but you. You saw Brynne drop it, and you went to retrieve it.”
“You were on the stairs!” Stuart cried. “You took it, Rachel!”
Underhill, who had been watching Stuart closely the whole time, spoke up. “Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Hunter. Would you like to charge Rachel? Tell me. Because if you do, when I find out that you’ve made a false charge, I will arrest you.”
Stuart thumped his chest. “This is my business.”
“I don’t care if you don’t want to charge Brynne,” I said, “but it’s interesting that less than an hour after your wife’s shocking murder, your mind was on a little jade carving on the back steps. It’s almost as if Lesley’s death was no big deal. Either that or you’d been expecting it.”
CHAPTER 18
Hurling a flurry of threats my way and Underhill’s, Stuart bolted from the station, leaving a rather wobbly-looking Kip behind. “Am I still supposed to work in the greenhouse?” he asked.
“Yes,” Underhill said. “Get out. Now.”
Kip did as he was told. When the door shut behind him, Underhill let loose. “Have you ever seen a sorrie
r group of people? Stuart’s a lunatic, Kip and Brynne are stealing from him—and who’s in real trouble? Chief Gilroy. How fair is that? They aren’t fit to tie his shoes.”
“We tried our best with McDermott,” Holly said, sinking into a chair.
Julia, looking tired already, took the chair next to hers. “What an arrogant man.”
“What did you do?” Underhill said. He threw his hands in the air. “I’ve lost control of the investigation. I don’t know what’s happening with it anymore. It’s a disaster.”
“No, it isn’t, Underhill,” I said. “I heard your interview with Kip.”
“Rachel said it was masterful,” Julia said.
Underhill gave me an almost puzzled look, as though he hadn’t expected such a compliment from me. It made me a little sad.
“Anyway,” I said, “how can you know what Holly and Julia were up to?”
“We didn’t tell you,” Holly said. “It’s all because I heard McDermott talking to Frederick Farkas, the big land owner.”
I took over, filling Underhill in on our suspicions while he poured himself a cup of coffee. When I finished, I sat next to Holly.
“So who am I supposed to arrest?” Underhill said. “Mayor McDermott or Stuart Hunter?”
Turner cleared his throat. “Am I still part of this investigation?
“No, you’re not,” Underhill blurted. “Keep filing.”
On entering the station I’d noticed a kind of cold war between the two, but now that war threatened to heat up.
Turner cocked his head. “What’s your problem, Underhill? The second you’re in charge you go power hungry? You sideline me when I could be helping?” The desk phone rang. Turner started at it, picked it up, and slammed it back down. “The whole town’s in trouble if you ever make police chief.”
Underhill stormed to the desk, coffee sloshing from his cup to the floor. “You’d like that, right?”
“You as police chief? You’re out of your mind.”
“Not me as chief—Gilroy out. Did you think I wouldn’t look into your background, Turner? Did you think you could hide it forever?”
Turner stormed around the desk and strode to Underhill, standing a foot from him. “You think I want Gilroy out? I’ve been working to keep him in, despite your roadblocks. You’re the one who wants him out. You can’t wait to be chief.”
Underhill’s face was now inches from Turner’s. “Say it again, Turner.”
I rocketed from my chair. “Stop it! I’ve never seen you two act like this. Gilroy’s in real trouble, and here you are at each other’s throats. What do you think he’d say?”
“He can’t see straight right now,” Underhill said, setting his cup on the desk. He took a deep breath.
“What do you mean he can’t see straight?” Turner asked.
“Because he trusts you,” Underhill said. “He’d rather lose his job than not trust you. Or me.”
Bewildered, Turner asked, “Why shouldn’t he trust me? What have I supposedly done? What’s going on?”
Underhill’s face hardened. “We know about your father being good buddies with Mayor Wick in Fort Collins.”
Turner laughed. “Are you kidding? No, they’re not.”
“So your father lives in Windsor now. Big deal. The two were buddies when your dad was on the force there.”
Turner shook his head. “That was a long time ago. My dad can’t stand Wick. He doesn’t like most politicians. I’ve been telling him how McDermott took Gilroy’s badge. My dad thinks McDermott’s crooked.”
“You’ve been talking to him about Gilroy?” Underhill said. I could see his hackles rising again.
“He’s an experienced cop. Of course I have,” Turner said. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. My dad thinks this is one hundred percent about politics. I didn’t mention Farkas to him, but I don’t think his land has anything to do with it, though it sounds like Farkas is taking advantage of a favorable situation to make more money off the sale.”
The room fell silent.
It was Underhill who spoke first. “Your dad can’t stand Wick?”
“He calls him the worst mayor Fort Collins ever had. As corrupt as they come. You heard what Wick did to Gilroy. Well, two months before my dad was set to retire, Wick tried to recruit him to his side. Get him to lie about Gilroy, say he was trying to trap Mrs. Wick. Though how you trap someone into drunk driving, I don’t know. Even when Wick backed off—and he did, fast—my dad filed a formal complaint against him. It’s still in the city records. He hated doing it because they were friends once, but he couldn’t stand the corruption anymore and he said Gilroy was the best of the best. He was happy when he found out I’d be working for him.”
Again we were lost for words.
After an awkward moment, Julia said, “But I thought your mother was still friends with Mayor Wick’s wife. That’s what—” Julia clammed up. I was sure she’d been about to say, That’s what Royce told us.
“They are, sort of.” Turner eyed Julia suspiciously. “They do Christmas charity events together. From what my mom says, Mrs. Wick has turned over a new leaf. Look, what’s going on? How do you know that?” Turner’s eyes shot around the room. “How do any of you know about my mom and dad?
I believed Officer Turner now. Utterly and completely. But was it too late?
“We’ve been turning over every rock,” I began. “Trying to find anything that might help Gilroy. And, well, one of the things we discovered was that your dad and Wick were good friends.”
Julia glanced my way, smiling slightly, grateful I hadn’t mentioned Royce.
“So you assumed my dad and me were crooked,” Turner said flatly. “You thought I’d betray the chief. And my oath.”
“That was my fault,” I said. “I was convinced the people behind Gilroy’s firing in Fort Collins were setting him up for Lesley Hunter’s murder. I couldn’t see anything else. Jova Dillman and Maurice Salaway had connections to Wick too.”
Turner didn’t look angry. Far worse, he looked hurt. “So you told everyone I set the chief up?”
“No, she didn’t,” Underhill said. “I did. Well, not that you set him up, but I said we shouldn’t trust you. Gilroy told me to stuff it.”
“Wow.” Avoiding eye contact, Turner shuffled his way around the front desk.
“Officer Turner.” Julia stepped closer to the desk. “We’re so sorry. You see, we all care for Gilroy, and we don’t know you as well as Officer Underhill. I’m afraid this is partly my fault too. I’m the one who found out about your father being friends with Wick.”
“Royce was there too,” Holly said, stepping forward.
“Royce Putnam?” Turner said. “He investigated me too?”
“Sorry,” Julia said.
“To be fair—” Holly said.
“We’re being fair now, are we?” Turner interrupted.
“To be fair,” she went on, “the information Royce discovered was absolutely true. It was just incomplete.”
“And we misinterpreted it,” I added.
Julia put her hands on the desk and leaned Turner’s way. “We wanted so much to help Gilroy, not hurt you.”
Turner ran a palm across his chin. He nodded slowly. “I get it. I think.”
Julia sighed with relief.
“I’m sorry, man,” Underhill said. “I’ve worked with you long enough. I should have known better.”
“You can be a jerk,” Turner replied. “You know that?”
“So everyone tells me.”
“Everyone speaks the truth.”
Both Turner and Underhill broke into grins.
“Of course, we’re still dealing with McDermott,” Holly reminded us. “He’s going to fire Gilroy.”
“At any moment,” I said. “And Gilroy won’t come back. So Turner, I have to ask you something important.”
“Shoot,” he said, pivoting my way.
“Think back a few weeks ago. Do you remember Lesley bringing donuts to the
station? You may have been the only one here at the time.”
He tilted back his head, thinking. “Yeah . . . I think, yeah. She said they were for Gilroy.”
“That’s right,” Holly said. “She bought them for him.”
“But he wasn’t in,” Turner said.
“Who wasn’t in?”
We spun back at the sound of Gilroy’s voice.
“Chief!” Underhill said.
Our little crowd parted to let Gilroy through to the desk. “What’s going on with the phone?” he asked. “I rang and someone hung up on me.”
“That’s weird.” Underhill shrugged. “Phone systems, huh?”
Someone had to broach the subject. I went for it. “Does McDermott know you’re here?”
“Nope.”
“His spies are everywhere. He’ll find out.”
“He’s mayor. He can do what he wants.” Gilroy shifted his attention to Turner. “Who wasn’t in?”
“You weren’t. When Lesley Hunter brought donuts to the station, about three weeks ago.”
“I didn’t know about that.”
“Because I never said,” Turner replied. “She left the donuts at the desk, and I ate them.” He cast his eyes to the floor.
“Me too,” Underhill said. “Jelly donuts.”
Gilroy jammed his hands in his pockets. “Okay . . .”
“Turner, did you leave Lesley alone at any time?” I asked.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “But she went into the chief’s office. She told me she was going to leave the box on his desk, but she came out a minute later saying she’d changed her mind, we could all have them. Then she put the box on the desk, right over there by the sign-up sheet.”
Gilroy and I exchanged glances.
“The pin,” Underhill said. “She’s the one who took it. I’ve been racking my brains, trying to remember which one of them was left alone in here.”
“Lesley took the pin?” Julia said. “She couldn’t have known how it was going to be used.”
“I think she did,” I said quietly.
Gilroy began to rub his forehead, as if by doing so he could erase what he’d heard and what he now understood. Watching him, I knew without a doubt what he was thinking. Traveling down different paths, separated from each other most of the time, we had arrived at the same conclusion. Not about the donuts or the pin or any of the details, but about Lesley. She had ended her painful, miserable life in the full knowledge that Gilroy would be charged with her murder. Lord, I hurt for him.
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