Carter had revealed that Hamilton had argued with him regarding the campaign and Milton Preston. The man who was running on a clean, wholesome platform did not want his homeless brother or the brother’s illegitimate children popping up in the days before the campaign. He thought the news would hinder his chances of winning the council seat.
Hamilton had told Carter that he was going to meet Milton after their discussion. Carter, who had not seen his father in years, had followed his uncle to the meeting place, which was not far from where the corpse was found. The two men had met, greeted each other warmly, and then began to argue vehemently within minutes. Carter’s father had shoved Hamilton, who had fallen down onto the ground.
Carter didn’t want to see any more. He’d left immediately, taking care not to be seen by his father. He didn’t want to have to be a police witness to the likely assault charges. That wasn’t the way he wanted to reenter the family.
While the family agreed with that assessment of the situation, they had no desire for the owners of a prestigious art gallery in the city to be tainted by such accusations. They had offered Carter a settlement for his silence. Since Carter knew even more than he had shared with the family, he was happy to take it.
The killing of Hamilton by his brother, who in turn passed away of natural causes, wrapped everything up in a neat package. The homicide could not be prosecuted since the killer was dead and about to be buried. No reason to delve further into the situation and dig up any more skeletons.
I happened to think that Milton Preston was being blamed for a crime that he had not committed. The package was just too neat with a dead man being blamed for the killing, now that no questions could be asked and no arrests would be made.
The crime had definitely come down to the family, and I had a strong hunch that I knew who was behind it. The way that the will had been set up was bound to create rivalries, and Hamilton had wanted more than his share.
I’d spoken with Carter at length about the matter. If, in fact, Brianna was the killer, the art gallery would come in part to him and his siblings. However, Carter had a need for the money now, and that was what he was focused on. He realized that the family was worth more, but given that he still wasn’t sure that he hadn’t seen his father kill his uncle, Carter wasn’t too much in favor of being a major player in the family.
Since I’d gotten all of this out of Carter, I had only to ask a few questions today in order to solve the case. The first was the whereabouts of each member of the family at about the same time that I’d gone running that night. Carter had followed his uncle and had seen him shoved. It was unlikely that Hamilton had gone home after that. He’d likely met the other member of the family and commiserated over his inability to get his brother’s cooperation. That would put the time of death just after Carter’s exit.
I worried about the fact that Land had not arrived yet. I couldn’t imagine what was taking him so long. He was usually the model of punctuality, complaining about his sister’s tardiness. Now he was the one who was late.
I also noticed that no member of the police force was here. Even though Milton had died of natural causes, he was being accused of killing his brother, which would make him a person of interest in the case. I wondered why they hadn’t shown. Had Danvers just closed the case, or was he being deferential to an important family in Capital City?
After going over our strategy in the lobby of the funeral home, Carter and I went back to the visitation. He walked around and admitted to more than a few people that he was the deceased’s son. “After coming out, telling people that you were born out of wedlock is a piece of cake,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “What do you need me to do now?”
“Let’s find Barton first and then Brianna. After that we’ll hit the grandparents,” I suggested. I thought that the first two suspects would be more approachable and would be more likely to answer the questions put to them.
I spotted Barton first, and we made our way over to where he stood. “We just said our good-byes to Milton,” Carter said. “I’m just sorry that I didn’t get to do it while he was alive. I hadn’t seen him in years.”
Barton nodded. Up close, I noticed that the cousins had the same build, the same hair color, and the same eye color. The family connection was very present.
“When was the last time you saw him? I mean, I know your dad found him before he was killed, but did you get to see him before he passed away?” Carter asked. He was upfront, yet tactful about the questions. I thought that the family should have been proud to have him as a member.
“Nah, not me. I was just a kid when he left. In my teens. I barely remember him. I think that my aunt saw him before he passed away,” Barton offered. “At least she told me that she had. I don’t know the details of it, though.”
“Is your sister here?” Carter asked, looking around. He’d switched the topic of conversation even though he knew that the sister had been at college over the past few weeks. She’d been too far away to drive back and commit any crimes, and the police had checked bus and plane reservations to make sure that she hadn’t come back by a different mode of transportation. Several of her classmates had also vouched for her appearance during classes.
“No, my parents suggested that she stay at school. She remembers Milton even less than I do. She’ll have to come back for Dad’s services, so that’s enough trips for the present.”
It seemed reasonable, and it also ruled her out for the murder. Barton, who had no alibi, was still a possibility, though he seemed not to have known about Carter and the rest of his cousins. Either he was a very good actor, or he had really not been included in the conspiracy to keep this quiet. In either case, I wasn’t sure that he would be much more help, and he was unlikely to give himself away.
I saw Brianna across the room, and Carter and I made our way across to her. She greeted Carter again, who tried to look less nervous than he felt. I hoped that the tension of trying to determine who had killed his uncle would be mistaken for grief in the wake of two funerals in two days. I wasn’t sure how well I would have handled it.
Brianna motioned to a couple of people, and her parents stepped over to talk to us. I looked around the room for Land, but I still hadn’t found him. I was worried that something had happened to him. I’d formulated a rather detailed plan last night and texted it to him. It all depended on him being here—now.
Brianna made some reassuring remarks about the funeral and his father to Carter. He accepted the comments gracefully and tried to listen to what his recently found grandparents were saying. I had divided my focus the entire time, watching for Land and casually listening to the couple.
Even though they were accepting Carter’s presence here and in the family, apparently Mr. Preston was still discussing the idea of burying Milton somewhere other than the family plot. He was still worried what other people might think, even though I doubted that anyone knew the truth or many remembered the accusations against him six years ago.
Carter tried to ignore the comments, which were coming louder and more continuous now. Apparently Mr. Preston wasn’t too worried that Carter would be upset by the comments. I was guessing that in his world, money soothed all hurts.
Carter looked like he might cry at any moment. The emotions of the past two days, combined with the comments being made, were apparently getting to him. I moved away from the family and found Carter a seat in the first row of the funeral home, where the family sits. Carter didn’t protest, and I made my way back to where the Preston family stood.
I looked at Mr. Preston, who was smug in his continued comments. He hadn’t even had the decency to stop when he saw that Carter was upset. I looked around the room, hoping that Land would be visible, but he wasn’t. I cursed under my breath and opted to move ahead with my plan.
“Mr. Preston, could I see you alone?” I asked. His wife looked slightly surprised, and Mr. Preston practically leered at me. Given his decision to hire Sabine, I didn’t think I would
have trouble gaining an audience with him.
We went into another room in the funeral home. It appeared to be an empty visitation room, lined with various coffins along the wall. These were the high-end models with the cherry wood and the brass handles. It felt both creepy and appropriate to be discussing the matter in here.
“What can I do for you that can’t wait?” Mr. Preston said with a grin.
“I wanted to talk to you about your son,” I said, hoping that Carter would see that the plan had been moved into action. I was certain that nothing would happen here, but backup was always important in my book.
“Which one? They’re both dead,” he said without much emotion in his voice.
“Actually, both of them. I wanted to set the record straight.” I heard my voice crack at the end, which made me wonder how certain I was of my facts. I ran through them again in my head while I was waiting for a response and found them spot on.
“Do we need to talk about the dead at all?” he said. “I’d much rather talk about the acts of the living.”
“They were both living when the embezzlement was made,” I replied, trying to ignore his comments. I wondered how Sabine had put up with his behaviors for even a few days. I had a feeling that her career at the art gallery would be over after today.
“Milton was a weak boy,” he started, but I interrupted.
“Milton wasn’t the thief. It was Hamilton.”
He grinned. “Pretty little girl, but you’re quite confused. Milton took the money and left town. Hamilton was the good boy.”
“That’s what you wanted people to believe. He did have trouble keeping a job, which is why he worked for you. He’d been trying to raise a family with Carter’s mother and woo a socialite. It was costing him a fortune. He was torn between his love for his family and his desire to earn your approval. Milton did leave town. He was broke. However, he wasn’t stealing money from the art gallery.”
The old man chuckled a soft dry laugh that sent shivers up my spine. “You certainly have a vivid imagination. Perhaps we can put that to use.”
“Hamilton took that money to become a candidate six years ago. You didn’t want him to run, and he didn’t have enough money to start a campaign. You pulled the plug when you found out, which is why he dropped out of the race. Milton had left, and he was a convenient scapegoat. You knew that the accusations of embezzlement meant that you had Hamilton right where you wanted him. He had to do what you said, or you’d release that information.”
He stood there, breathing heavily, but saying nothing. I waited for a response, but got none.
“Everything went fine until Milton decided to return. I’m not sure why he did, but he came back. He hadn’t made contact with Carter or his other children, but I’m thinking that they had something to do with his wanting to return.”
“Or he wanted more money,” the man finally said. “He always had his hand out for more.”
I shrugged. “Maybe, but we’ll never know. That made Hamilton want to find his brother. Presumably he wanted to make sure that Milton wasn’t going to try to clear his name for his family’s sake. He could have been wanting to apologize. Again, that’s not a game-changer here. The point is that Milton came back and Hamilton went to see him. Milton may not even have known of the accusations against him when he was gone. The two men argued that night. Carter saw them, and if Carter was there and unseen, you could have been, too. I know for a fact that you were dressed up as a homeless person on more than one occasion. I saw you the day that Milton passed away. You ran away and didn’t come out of hiding until it had been announced that he’d died of natural causes. That left you out of the picture. No questions from the police on the matter then.”
“You certainly talk a lot. Do all snoops do this or is it just you?” He looked impatient.
I’d been trying to explain the whole thing in detail, since I was wired. I wasn’t sure who else would hear the confession that I hoped to get, but I wanted everything documented since these people had money and weren’t afraid to use it to get what they wanted. Plus the time gave me some leeway as I continued to hope that Land would get here soon.
“I don’t know many other amateur detectives,” I told him, still stalling. “Just me. Anyway, you saw that your two sons had met. You came out of the shadows to talk to Hamilton. Apparently whatever he said to you didn’t meet with your approval, and you killed him. Milton had already hit him, so he was a bit bruised up. All you had to do was take a rock and finish the job.”
I got a little creeped out, because Mr. Preston grinned as I said this last part. There were no denials. Just a grin. It was perhaps the eeriest moment I’d ever spent with a killer. He showed no remorse for what he’d done. Other people mourned their lost children, but he just grinned.
“Later you went back out looking for Milton who might have put the facts together to realize he’d been set up for the embezzlement, and now was being set up to take the fall for a murder. You argued again, and he died. I’m not sure if you did something to him or his heart just gave out, but he died all the same.” I kept on talking now, feeling more nervous and stressed. I wished that I’d waited for Land, but the services would have precluded me from confronting this man and stopping him from killing again.
“You certainly have a lot of holes in this story,” he said finally. “Who’s going to believe you? It may be all well and good that Carter believes you; perhaps that will keep him out of the family business.”
“I think that check you wrote him today will do that,” I said, remembering the terms of the agreement. I also knew that Carter had no idea about fine art. He had joked about his lack of artistic understanding.
“Yes, well, money does help pave a lot of things over. I’ve just been adding up in my mind how much I’m going to have to spend to get rid of you.” He had been casually leaning on a marble slate sample for a headstone. He picked up the solid piece of marble and took a few menacing steps towards me. “The cheapest way is to knock you out now, put you in a coffin, and finish you off later. Seems reasonable to me.” He swung the marble out in front of him. I adjusted my opinion of him. I’d thought him rather weak because of his age, but he had run back to the gallery after Milton’s death. He was still able to swing this, as well.
I eyed the door, but Mr. Preston maneuvered himself so that he was between me and the doorway. That door represented the only way out of this room. There were two windows behind me, but they had ornate metal grating over them that would deny me any chance of escape. “You’re not going to get away that easily,” he said.
But he was wrong. I screamed. I screamed as loud as I could and for as long as I could. Then I screamed again. Speaking as an Irish red-headed girl, that’s a lot of air. No one would ever doubt my lung capacity.
I wasn’t sure how long I had to keep screaming, but Carter and Brianna were the first to enter, followed by the funeral director on their heels. Preston hadn’t even had time to put down the marble, and it was apparent from the stance that he was trying to block me in the room with a weapon. While the police would not make an attempted murder charge for what he was doing to me, an assault case would be easy to prove. The number of witnesses would see to that.
A few steps behind them was Land, face red and ready for anything. I’d never been more eager to see him, even though I’d taken care of matters myself. Without a thought for the man holding a marble block, Land strode over to me and pulled me into his arms. I had to admit that I was a bit shaky, and his support gave me back the nerve I needed. I really was going to have to sign up for some martial arts classes after we got married. I didn’t want to be the only Mendoza who couldn’t defend herself.
“Where have you been?” I asked.
He rolled his eyes. “I decided to ask Danvers for the alibis from the family for the night of the murder. All of the women had alibis. That only left the two men who could have taken on Hamilton Preston that night.”
I nodded. “I suspected the fat
her all along. He was too into spending money to get what he wanted, and if he’d been at the scene of the murder, then he’d know that Carter had been there, too. The contract would have kept Carter silent or else he would’ve risked losing the inheritance from the estate.”
A crowd had begun to form at the edge of the room. Mr. Preston seemed to shrink in on himself as the others began to notice the marble block and the man holding it. I had a hunch that he was not going to try to fight his way out of this one.
Chapter 10
In the end, Mr. Preston got one of the most expensive criminal lawyers in the city to represent him. However, enough stories came out about him from the family and colleagues that it would have tainted any jury in Capital City. The trial was moved to another nearby city, where they hadn’t heard of Mr. Preston. However, neither had they seen his civic donations over the years, either. They convicted the man of his son’s death in just under seven hours.
He was given 20 years in prison, but given the man’s age, it was practically a death penalty case. He appealed the case, but he was not granted bail, given his ability to pass as homeless and move at will. He’s not likely to see Capital City again.
Brianna took over the operations of the art gallery. She made several of the changes she’d wanted to make—the ones that had been shot down by her father and brother. She still stops by the food truck sometimes to check on Carter and the children. They’ve even had a few hesitant family outings. Brianna was left without much family, too, and it does both of them good to have people to share with. Carter sees his cousins from time to time, but for the most part, his family is now made up of Aaron and the children.
Carter’s father was cleared of the embezzlement accusations after the fact, and Brianna insisted that he keep the money, I think in part to keep the stories of bribing potential witnesses out of the press. The cash allowed him to pay off his mother’s medical bills and refinance the house to a more reasonable mortgage.
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