by V. B. Tenery
She took her seat and shrugged out of her coat, letting it rest on the chair back. “I know, and I needed to get out of the house and away from all the telephone calls. Besides, I want to find whoever did this as much or more than you do.”
A waiter took their drink orders. The restaurant served wassail during the winter months, a hot apple cider, with orange juice and spices. They both opted for a mug.
“I hate to hit you with routine questions, but they have to be asked. Do you have any idea who might have wanted your sister and her husband dead?”
“If I had any idea, I would have called you already. It seems senseless to me, Matt. As far as I know, they didn’t have an enemy in this world. Kathy was the baby of our family. She could have been a great actress if she had seriously pursued it. She wasn’t a great beauty, although she was certainly attractive. Her theater group performed the play Separate Tables Saturday night at the Cultural Center Theater on the square.”
The judge’s gaze drifted out the window. “She gave a great performance. I’m going to miss her terribly.”
“Any possible conflict in the theater group?”
Their server brought the wassail and took the food orders. Grilled salmon for her, Cajun fried catfish for him.
When the waiter left, Judith answered. “I doubt it. The cast is mostly stock company actors, and even if they held a grudge against Kathy, there would have been no reason to harm Art.”
“Was she happily married?”
“I think so. They weren’t openly affectionate, but they teased each other in a friendly, flirty way, and seemed to genuinely like each other. Art was her greatest fan.”
“How about the children? Any problems there?”
“As the oldest, Claire had a close relationship with Kathy. As did Taylor. Kathy doted on them, but she and Eden had their differences. Not an unusual occurrence between a mother and daughter. Who can explain why some mothers and daughters are best friends, and others barely speak?”
“Were they speaking?”
Judith waited a beat before answering. “Yes. I don’t think there was any unusual tension in the relationship until recently. Kathy tried very hard to never let it get out of hand. She always gave in to Eden to keep the peace. She loved her grandsons and wanted to keep the relationship on good terms for their sake. Eden can be difficult to deal with.”
“So, there was a recent quarrel between them?”
Judith gave a slight nod. “Kathy wasn’t happy about Eden divorcing her husband. She thought Eden should have tried harder to make a go of it for the boys’ sake. And Art agreeing to testify for Stephen in the custody battle drove a wedge between Eden and her father, with Kathy caught in the middle.”
“Do you know why she divorced her husband?’
The judge gave a slight shrug. “I don’t think there was a specific reason. It seemed to me Eden just didn’t like living in Oklahoma.”
Their food arrived, and the judge looked down at her grilled salmon, then across at Matt’s platter piled high with golden, crispy catfish, its spicy fragrance filled the air around them. “I’m trying to watch my cholesterol, and you’re not helping.”
“Sorry, I’ll share. There’s enough here for two people.” He took a bite, trying not to enjoy it too much, and then returned to their previous conversation. “Seems a trivial reason to end a marriage.”
“Yeah, well, Eden is a woman of strong opinions. Things are either black or white. No grays allowed. She has a real hate on for her ex.”
Judith forked a small piece of fish from his platter and grinned. “One little piece won’t hurt me.”
“Any other problems between Eden and her mother?”
Judith looked down at her plate. “Not that I know of.”
She continued. “We are all grieving the loss of Kathy and Art, but the one hurt most by their deaths is Taylor. She idolized her parents, and she was never particularly fond of her sisters, particularly, Eden. Her young life has been turned on its head.”
On the drive back to Twin Falls, Matt switched on the radio to a local country music station. They were playing George Straight’s “I Cross My Heart”, one of Matt’s favorites, and his thoughts drifted to Sara and the lovely image of her making breakfast this morning.
The music swelled and filled the inside of his SUV as he turned onto the freeway. A sudden thought struck him. Judith Bittermann hadn’t told him everything she knew about her sister’s family.
The good judge was holding something back.
CHAPTER 5
Grayson Manor
Twin Falls, Texas
Jack McKinnon stared at the lavish tray Perkins had just delivered to the library. Tea cakes, Devonshire cream, finger sandwiches, strong black tea, and French roast coffee included.
The butler insisted on acting the servant since Jack became master of Grayson Manor.
It would have been simpler had Jack not grown up in this house as the gardener’s son. He’d been on personal terms with the household servants his entire life. Perky, as Jack had always called the butler, wasn’t handling the transition well.
Jack’s father and Perkins had been best of friends, playing chess in the kitchen in the evenings, and Perkins no longer knew how to relate to his friend, Sean McKinnon. One just didn’t play chess with the master’s father, or so Perkins believed.
Jack took a sip of tea and drew his lips back across his teeth. Wearing the mantle of the Grayson heir was not as easy as it might appear.
“I thought I saw Perkins headed this way with tea,” his father said, hastening to the fireplace and spreading his hands to its warmth. “I’m hungry.”
Despite his new position, Sean McKinnon still felt he had to oversee the garden and give advice to the new groundskeeper. He took a seat next to Jack, poured a cup of tea, and grabbed a sandwich. “I hate drinking tea from these fancy china cups. It goes cold too soon. Think we could get him to bring us a proper mug when it’s just the two of us?”
Jack laughed. “You can try.”
Jack took a seat in front of the fireplace and rested a booted foot on the stone hearth. An oil painting of his wife, Victoria Grayson, hung above the fireplace. A local artist had painted it, using Jack’s favorite snapshot as a model.
His wife of only two months was pregnant with their child when she was killed. Vic, both of her parents, her brother, and their cook had been murdered in the manor a little less than a year ago. Jack had been arrested for the murders before Matt Foley found the real killer.
His father’s gaze followed his, and his voice became husky when he spoke. “Aye, it’s a bonny portrait, Jacky. Victoria was a lovely, sweet lass.” He gulped down his last sip of tea, poured another, and sat silently, watching the embers drift up the chimney. After a while, he exhaled a deep breath and headed back to the garden.
Jack smiled as his father hurried from the room. Perkins wasn’t the only one having difficulty with the transition.
The muted buzz from the cordless phone at Jack’s elbow brought him back into the moment.
Caller ID reflected Eden Russell. He groaned inwardly and pushed the talk button. “Hello, Eden.”
“Hi, Jack. Glad I caught you.” Children’s voices in the background filtered through the phone. “I was wondering if the boys and I could drop by Wednesday. They want to play billiards. They love it out there.”
“Hey, Eden, I’d love to, but I have a board meeting at Grayson Limited starting tomorrow. Since the roads are bad, I’m staying in town.” All true now, though if the roads cleared, and they probably will, he would come home. She didn’t need to know that.
The line was silent for a beat or two. “Are you avoiding me, Jack?”
“Why would I avoid you?” Answer a question with a question when the answer is yes.
Even if she had been an angel, no way did he want Claire Davenport for a relative. And Eden was no angel.
“It just seems when I want to see you, you’re always busy. Have I made you mad? I
thought after Saturday night...”
Saturday night had been a mistake. “No, of course I’m not angry. I just have a lot of obligations as chairman of the Grayson board.” Again, all true. She hadn’t made him mad, but had turned him off with her obvious favoritism between her twin boys. The boys weren’t identical. Brandon looked like his dad, Brian like her side of the family. Brandon couldn’t do anything right. On their last visit, she had ragged on the boy until Jack wanted to throw her out of his home. Verbal abuse of a child was inexcusable, and often just as damaging as the physical kind.
She rang off, with her tidy-whities in a twist.
He was busy. So much so, he decided to interview several secretarial applicants to handle the correspondence coming in. Calls from charities wanting money, social invitations, and his personal bank account information came in so fast he couldn’t handle the deluge.
His thoughts returned to Eden—how unlike Vic she was. Eden’s persistence might force him to tell her flat-out he wasn’t interested.
Like most men in such entanglements, he’d always been a coward. He hoped she would get the message and just drift away. He wanted to avoid a confrontation if possible, but he could be direct if he had to.
Sara Bradford’s Home
Twin Falls, Texas
After Matt left for work, Sara took her coffee into the library. She curled up in a leather chair in front of the fireplace, enjoying the quiet that gave her time to think. The children had another snow day, and were sleeping in.
She loved this room, with its rich paneling, mahogany book shelves, and heavy, masculine furniture. This had been Josh Bradford’s domain before he died. She’d never changed anything after his death. The décor suited the rest of the house.
Her home held good and bad memories. More bad than good. She could put it on the market in a heartbeat and not look back. With its three stories, seven bedrooms, and manicured grounds it was too big for a family of four.
Josh had wanted a showplace to entertain friends and people from his law firm. She had offered no resistance, but the place cost a fortune to keep up.
Now was not the time to make a firm decision. She had calls to make.
Less than a minute later, she dialed Shannon Connelly’s work number.
“Shannon, it’s Sara. Matt told me about Sunday. I’m just checking to see how you’re doing.”
“I’ve been better, but the shock is wearing off. I really liked Kathy and Art. Since the roads are passable, I opened the club up today, but only a few members have shown up. I’m glad you and Matt are back. I missed my daily mental therapy sessions.”
“Those therapy sessions go both ways, my friend. So, you’re good?”
“Well, I’m now the proud owner of a white female bulldog named Sugar. Claire has a cat and didn’t want her, and Eden already has two dogs. Taylor wanted to keep Sugar, but she’s living with Claire now, so, no go. I couldn’t stand the thought of sending Sugar to a shelter.” She laughed. “The new addition to the family is costing me money. We’d had to install a doggie-door and buy an electronic fence to keep her on our property. She keeps trying to go back home.”
“Poor little thing. That’s so sad.”
“I know,” Shannon sighed into the phone. “The crime scene tape is still up. I saw two of Matt’s detectives go inside earlier. Claire told Colin she’s going to put the house on the market as soon as it’s released to them. Can’t say I blame her.”
The tone of her voice brightened. “On the positive side, Sugar and Colin have become best friends.” She chuckled. “I’m getting jealous of an ugly dog with gas problems.”
“Funny, but you don’t have anything to worry about. Want to have lunch later in the week?” Sara asked.
“Sure, I’d love it. Give me a call when you’re free.”
After she rang off with Shannon, she called Eden to offer condolences, but got no answer.
The Davenport Home
Twin Falls, Texas
With a search warrant for the Davenports’ financial records in his jacket pocket, Davis and his partner eased into the driveway and stopped behind a gas-guzzling black Bentley sedan. The warrant might not have been necessary, but he didn’t want any evidence they might find compromised when the killer was brought to trial.
Claire Davenport waited in her car and stepped out to meet them.
“You want to come in while we look through your parents’ office?” Davis asked. “Sometime today, we’ll need you to see if anything inside the home is missing.”
She shook her head. “I have to get back to the bank. I’ll pick up Eden later and bring her back with me. She’d be more help in that department than I would.”
Davis handed the banker the warrant. As Claire turned to leave, he called out to her. “Do you have a copy of the will?”
“No,” she said. “There might be one inside. If not, I’ll get you a copy from Dad’s attorney.”
Inside, the residence was as cold as the temperature outside. Davis cranked up the heat before he and Turner made their way to the second floor.
For a home office, the room was large. Against the back wall, a group of colorful Italian prints hung above a small brown leather sofa. Bookcases and a credenza sat behind the oversized hardwood desk. Nearby were two built-in four-drawer file cabinets. Davis tried the handles. Locked
The desktop computer was missing. Dale McCulloch had loaded it and a laptop into the mobile crime lab Sunday. SOP, standard operational procedure.
He and Turner would go through the paper files. With luck, they would find a copy of the will, and with more luck, a motive for the murders.
It took him only a minute to find the key to the files, stuck in the back of the middle desk drawer in an envelope. Why lock files and keep the key where anyone could find it?
“Turner, you take the files; I’ll take the desk.”
She gave him a narrowed-eyed glance. “Figures you get the sit-down job.”
He chuckled. “One of the perks of being the lead.”
“How well I remember.”
“Don’t be bitter, Turner. You can pull up a chair.”
“Who’s bitter? I like being your flunky.” She softened the words with a slight grin that meant she was only half-kidding.
After almost three hours, Turner stood and stretched her back. “At least the files aren’t stuffed, just copies of credit card and bank statements. Also, some investment portfolio documents, and family birth certificates, trusts, etcetera. I’m thinking we should box this up and take it back to the bureau for closer inspection. You find anything?”
“Yeah, the will.”
“Anything important?” she asked.
“No smoking gun. Just what we might expect. The bulk of the estate is split among the three girls, with a trust fund for each of the grandsons. Some items are left to the sisters and brother. Looks like family heirlooms.”
Voices sounded below, then footsteps moved upstairs and down the hall to the office.
“We’re here. Anyplace you want us to start?” Claire asked.
Davis came around from behind the desk. “You guys know the place better than we do. But you might want to concentrate on things of value, items that would be the most obvious to be taken. You guys have any idea what your dad might have carried in his attaché case? It was empty, and the papers burned in the fireplace.”
Claire shrugged and looked at her sister. “I’ve no idea. How about you, Eden?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t a clue.”
The two sisters turned back down the hallway towards the master bedroom.
“I’ll check the jewelry,” Eden said.
Davis went to the car and brought up cardboard boxes for the files, then he and Turner packed the cartons. “You make a property list of what we’re taking?”
She glared at him. “I’m not a rookie, Davis. This isn’t my first crime scene.”
He held up both hands. “Just asking. Don’t go defensive on me.”
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They took the boxes to the car and then went in search of the Davenport siblings. He found them in the kitchen. “Anything missing?”
Eden perched on a stool at the island bar. “Only one item, as far as I could tell, a diamond pendent that belonged to my great-grandmother. Was Mom wearing her wedding rings?”
“Just the band, no engagement ring,” Turner said.
“Then the engagement ring is gone. She always wore it. It was a rare four-carat pink diamond,” Eden said.
Davis flipped through the will, and stopped when he found what he was looking for. “The necklace was left to Amy Bauer. Your mother willed the wedding rings to Taylor.”
A sad smiled tilted the corners of Claire’s mouth. “Aunt Amy loved that necklace.”
“Can you suggest any reason for just those two items being taken? Seems odd the killer would leave behind the other expensive pieces.” Davis said.
Claire nodded. “Those were the two most valuable, but it does seem a thief would have taken everything.”
He and Turner exchanged a glance. How did the killer know the articles taken were the most valuable, unless someone told them? The fact that only two pieces were missing also indicated the killer wasn’t a professional jewel thief.
Davis handed Claire the property list. “This is a receipt for the records and papers we’ve taken. Thanks for your help.”
He pulled away from the mansion with one realization. Half a day and two cups of Starbucks Grande Pikes Place and they were no closer to identifying the Davenports’ killer than when they started.
CHAPTER 6
Twin Falls Police Station
Twin Falls, Texas
Matt Foley strode into the detective bureau conference room and plunked down two dozen assorted donuts. The four detectives came in behind him.
Chris Hunter grabbed a paper plate and took one cake and two chocolates with sprinkles. “I love you, Matt.”
“Just don’t hug me, Chris.”
“Okay, your loss.”