“And how was your brother when you talked to him?”
“Fine.”
“Fine,” Deena repeated. “What did you two talk about? Did he say if he was worried about anything? Did he seem upset?”
“No. He was fine.”
“Got it. Fine.” Deena thumped her pen on the legal pad.
“Look, I know I may sound like a crazy person, but I’m telling the truth. My brother wasn’t the type to take his own life. He was a strong man.”
Deena nodded and proceeded slowly. “Like you, I too have read about your brother’s death in the newspaper. It was a shock to everyone here as I’m sure it was for you. From what I read, a neighbor heard a noise and called the police. When they got there, he had a gun next to him and was...gone.”
Edwina, stone-faced, stared back without speaking.
Deena pressed on. “His prints were on the gun.”
Still nothing.
“So, what makes you think your brother was murdered?”
“I have three reasons.” She held up her hand to tick off each point. “For one, his wife wanted him dead. Number two, she was cheating on him. And number three, he wasn’t depressed like the police said, and he wouldn’t kill himself.” She stuck out her chin as though she’d just had a drop-the-mike, slam dunk moment.
Deena looked back at the notepad and scribbled down the list. Everything Edwina had stated was circumstantial. “Are you saying you think your sister-in-law, Allison, killed your brother?”
“That’s exactly what I think.” She paused, then added, “Poor Andrew. He didn’t deserve that. He was nothing but good to that woman and to me.” A few tears slid down her cheek.
Deena passed her a tissue. “What would Allison’s motive have been to kill her husband, in your opinion?”
“Money, of course! That’s all she ever wanted.” More tears came now.
This sounded like a typical case of grief overtaking reason. Some people just couldn’t accept the fact that their loved one was gone, especially by his or her own hand. Maybe she should suggest a grief counselor or support group.
The desk phone rang and Deena could see it was from Paulette. She lifted the receiver and said, “Not now, I’m busy,” and hung up. She handed Edwina more tissues as the phone rang again. “Paulette, I’m with a client—”
“I know, Ms. Deena, and I wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t important, but it is.”
Deena waited for more. When Paulette didn’t speak, she gritted her teeth and barked, “What?”
“Oh,” Paulette said, “Mr. Davis wants to see you.”
“Did you tell him I was with a client?”
“Yes, ma’am, but he said it had to be right now.”
“Okay,” Deena said, hanging up. The woman was still blotting tears. “I’m sorry, Ms. Granger, but I have an urgent matter. I’ll be right back.”
Deena left the office and closed the door behind her. She couldn’t imagine what was so important that Ian had to interrupt a client’s interview.
He was standing next to his desk when she walked into his office. His tie was loose and his jacket was thrown over the credenza. He motioned for her to take a seat. She recognized the grave expression on his face as the one he used when delivering bad news.
Suddenly, she felt a grip in her chest. “What is it? Is it Gary? Did he have an accident?”
“No, no,” Ian said, holding up his hands. “It’s nothing like that. Everyone is fine.”
She let out her breath and released her white-knuckle grip on the arms of the chair. “Then what?”
“It’s about...your job here.”
Uh-oh. This didn’t sound good.
Ian stared down at his hands. “I’m afraid I can no longer have you working for me.”
Deena’s jaw dropped. “But you promised you wouldn’t replace me while I was out covering for Sandra.”
“I know, and I haven’t replaced you, not yet anyway.”
He sat down on the corner of his desk. “It’s the funding from the state. They’ve changed some of the requirements and are offering incentives for public defenders to hire employees who are in the system.”
“What system?”
“The legal system. Like people on parole or on probation. It’s part of the reintegration program.”
Deena nodded slowly, afraid if she spoke she might cry.
“I know how excited you were to be back, I just wasn’t aware you’d be here today. I was working up my nerve to call you when I found out you were here with a client.” His eyes showed genuine concern. “You know how many pro bono cases I handle. If I had the money, I would absolutely have you here, you know that.”
The phone rang and Ian picked it up. “Give me just a minute, Paulette.” He held the receiver against his chest and looked mournfully at Deena. “Are you going to be all right?”
She wiped away a lone tear traveling down her cheek. “Sure. I understand.”
Ian put the phone back to his ear. “What is it, Paulette?” After a brief pause he said, “Okay, I’ll tell her.”
He stood up and walked back around his desk and sat down. “It seems the woman you were meeting with wasn’t keen on waiting.”
“You mean she left? Did she leave a phone number?”
“Nope. She told Paulette to tell you she’d be calling you in the next few days. Paulette gave her your cell phone number.”
“Oh my.” There were so many questions Deena had wanted to ask her, like, why did she think Allison was cheating on Drew and why hadn’t she talked directly to the police?
Ian drew in a deep breath. “Under the circumstances, I suppose you need to tell me what she said.” He reached for a pad of paper.
Deena nodded. “Fine. But hold on to your hat. This is going to be a tricky one.”
Chapter 4
Deena had worked briefly for the Northeast Texas Tribune before getting fired for failing to follow the editor’s directive to stay away from a murder investigation after she had found the body. She had remained friends with fellow reporter Dan Carson, who had recently taken over as news editor. Sitting across from him in his office, she worried about how much more stressed he looked than the last time she’d seen him.
When he hung up the phone, he unbuttoned the top of his shirt and loosened his tie.
Like most women, Deena wondered why men still bothered wearing neckties since most men (Gary excluded) seemed to despise them. If women could give up pantyhose, men should be able to lose the ties.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said. “How have you been?”
“Peachy,” she said. “What about you? You look like you could use a vacation.”
“Not a chance. We’re short-handed as is. Although, I was thinking of taking a long weekend with Lydia over spring break.”
“I was wondering if you two were still together. Is she feeding you well?” Deena had played matchmaker for the couple.
Dan patted his slightly bulging gut. “Too well. Now, what can I do for you?”
Deena pulled a piece of paper from her handbag. “Have you ever heard of a woman named Edwina Granger?”
“Granger? Sure, she’s part of that Granger’s Grapes clan. Why?”
“She came by to see me today.”
Dan sat upright in his chair. “Really? I didn’t realize she was back in town. One of my reporters tried to get ahold of her for the Andrew Granger suicide story, but he didn’t have any luck. Which is to say, he probably Googled her, found no phone number, and gave up.” He rubbed his forehead.
“Real in-depth reporting there,” Deena said and laughed.
“You have no idea.” He loosened the second button on his shirt. “So, what did she want with you? Is she Davis’s client?”
“Oddly, no. She said she’d heard about my reputation as a...um, murder-solver, and she wanted me to look into the death of her brother.”
“Not surprising. From what I assume, the family fortune is all going to Granger’s wife. She prob
ably wants in on the action.”
Deena frowned. “So, you don’t think there’s anything there? I mean, you doubt his wife staged the suicide?”
“The wife? It’s possible, of course. You know that. Have you talked to the police?”
“No. I came straight here from work. I mean, my former work. I got ‘let go’ today.” She emphasized the phrase with air quotes.
Dan revealed a slight grin. “Sorry to hear that.”
“You don’t look sorry.”
“That’s because I have an idea. Come back to work for the paper.”
Deena crossed her arms. “Um, I was fired by Lloyd Pryor, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Come on, I need a crime reporter and you need a job.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve gotten pretty used to working part-time. Now that the baby is here—”
“What?” Dan’s eyes narrowed. “You had a baby?”
“No, silly. Sandra and Ian’s baby. Gary and I are the godparents.”
“And Ian still canned you? Some friend.” Dan balled up a piece of paper and threw it across the room, missing the trashcan by a foot.
“It wasn’t like that. It was a funding issue. Anyway, I want a flexible schedule to be able to help Sandra out at the thrift store if she needs me.”
“How about this.” He leaned forward. “The greenhorns out there in the news division can handle the minor stuff, and we’ll only call you in for the big stories.”
“Big, like what?”
“Like investigating the possible murder and cover-up of one of the area’s most notable residents.” He steepled his fingers as though masterminding a heist.
It was a tempting offer. Deena was planning to nose around into the case anyway. The prospect of getting paid to do it was certainly enticing. Then she remembered why she had gone to work with Ian in the first place. He was all about helping people who couldn’t help themselves. Dan was cynical and saw the world through dark-colored glasses.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t like the idea of looking for the bad in every situation.”
Dan shook his head. “It’s not about finding the bad, kiddo. It’s about finding the truth. Isn’t that why you majored in journalism? Isn’t that what you taught your high school students?”
“Yes,” she said slowly, “but most of the time the truth is pretty ugly.”
“But justice,” he said through a sly grin, “Lady Justice is a beautiful thing.”
Dan had always been able to sweet-talk her. Still. “Can I talk to Gary and get back to you?”
Dan’s face fell. “Your husband doesn’t particularly like me.”
“That’s not true. He’s just protective of me. I’m sure you’re the same way with Lydia.”
“Okay, but you better make it quick. You can’t come in here and drop a juicy lead like this and not expect me to follow up on it.”
“I know,” Deena said and stood to leave.
“By the way, why did Edwina Granger go to you instead of the police?”
Deena bit her bottom lip as she thought about it. “I don’t know. She disappeared before I had a chance to ask her.”
“Interesting. We need to track her down. Could be she knows a lot more about her brother’s death than even the police do.”
Deena wasn’t sure she liked Dan using the word “we” to talk about the investigation. But maybe a part of her still wanted to be a journalist. Maybe that’s why she came to Dan instead of going to the police.
Here we go again.
Chapter 5
Gary came home from work that day with a “special surprise.” He’d already given Deena a pink opal pendant for their anniversary, and she couldn’t imagine what her loving husband might have had that would be any better. Maybe this was what he meant when he said he would “make it up to her” when they had to go to Drew Granger’s funeral on their anniversary.
She held out her palms and closed her eyes as he dropped something in her hands. It didn’t feel like jewelry. Her fingers touched it and she guessed it must be a gift card. A free massage, perhaps? She opened her eyes and read aloud, “‘A one-month free couples membership to Never Too Fit.’” It was the new gym that had just opened in Maycroft. “Wow. I didn’t expect this.” She tried to hide her disappointment.
“I know! Isn’t it great?” Gary’s face didn’t reveal anything other than excitement.
How could they have been married all these years and he still not know how she would feel about this sort of “gift”? Apparently, moments like this kept the marriage interesting.
“I guess we’ll have to check it out sometime,” she said, giving him back the card.
“Not sometime, now. I made us an appointment with the trainer for six thirty. I’ll make us a quick sandwich while you go change.”
Deena hadn’t even told him about her job yet. She was waiting to break it to him over dinner. Maybe if she dropped the f-bomb now, he would feel bad for her and reschedule their appointment. She gave it a shot. “I got fired today.”
Gary was halfway to the kitchen when he stopped in his tracks. “Fired? By Ian?”
Deena tilted her head and tried to work up a few tears. “Well, technically, I was let go. But either way, I lost my job.”
Gary walked back and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry. I know you liked your job. But just think, this will give you more time at the gym.”
She pushed him away and took a step back. “Are you kidding? Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
Like a cartoon comic strip, she could practically see the gears churning over his head. His shoulders slumped, apparently realizing he’d been caught in a husband-trap. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but you know I didn’t like you working with criminals at Ian’s law firm. The work you did had a dangerous side. I guess I was being selfish.”
The hurt in his eyes stirred up Deena’s guilt. After all, Gary had always been generally supportive every time she’d fly off in a new direction. Chances were, he wasn’t going to be thrilled with her working as a crime reporter, even if it was only part-time. It would be better to wait until the mood was right to spring it on him. Maybe exhaustion from working out at the gym would weaken his resistance.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll get changed.”
Gary grinned and headed to the kitchen.
Deena had given it a lot of thought all afternoon, and the more she mulled it over, the more certain she was that she wanted to give it another shot at the newspaper. Edwina Granger had said Deena was known for her talent in investigating murders, and that had boosted her ego.
But now, standing in front of her dresser trying to decide what to wear to the gym deflated her big head. She hadn’t worn workout clothes since Sandra had dragged her to that yoga class. That was way before Sandra had even gotten pregnant. Deena pulled a pair of black stretchy pants out of the drawer and held them up. They looked like some little girl’s ballet tights.
She slid in one leg and then the other, trying not to tip over as she worked the waist of the pants up over her thighs and hips. She could barely breathe, but they were on. She chose a long, loose t-shirt and then attempted to put on her sneakers without cutting off the circulation to her torso.
She looked in the mirror at her flushed face. “This is certainly going to be fun,” she muttered.
NEVER TOO FIT COULD have been called Never Too Fresh. The stench of sweat and sports gel hung in the air like a heavy fog as they signed papers at the front desk. The gray floor, gray walls, and black equipment made the place look even more depressing than Deena had imagined. The few people working out wore headphones and looked about as happy to be there as patients in a dentist’s waiting room.
Deena felt her muscles begin to cramp just standing there.
A buff bodybuilder in a too-tight t-shirt walked up and grabbed Gary’s hand. “Hi. I’m Marcus. You must be the Sharpes. Come on in and we can get you warmed up.”
Deena traile
d Gary as they were led through the torture chamber. She eyed the steel contraptions suspiciously, wondering which one was going to send her to the chiropractor. Deena had managed to stay fairly fit while she was teaching, but once she quit, things started to change. Her late fifties were a struggle, and now that she’d turned the big six-o, she felt like a bear preparing for hibernation.
Marcus stood next to the foreboding treadmills. “The key to a good warm-up is getting a light sweat. It’s your body’s way of saying it’s ready for the big stuff.”
More like ready to head home. She wanted to fake a coughing spell and leave, but the excited look on Gary’s face stopped her.
Marcus looked her up and down. “Am I right that it’s been a while since you two have worked out?”
“That depends,” Deena said. “When was Ronald Reagan in office?”
“That’s funny, Mrs. Sharpe,” Marcus snorted and gave her a playful jab on the arm.
That’s gonna leave a mark. She rubbed her arm and said, “Call me Deena, then call me an ambulance.”
Gary grinned. “I play golf and swim laps a few mornings a week at the Y, but you better start with the basics. Deena’s more of a newbie.”
That was putting it mildly. It would have been easier to just wait a few minutes. She was bound to get a hot flash.
“How about you try five minutes on the treadmill. That should do it.” Marcus proceeded to explain the controls. “After a couple of minutes, kick it up a notch and try jogging. When you feel your legs start to burn a little, you can slow down.” He flipped on the switch to start the machines.
Deena held on to the rails and began walking slowly. She gave Marcus a thumbs-up sign.
“I’ll be back to check on you in five,” he said and headed over to a brunette on a stationary bike.
This wasn’t so bad. But about a minute in, she felt her legs begin to ache and her feet felt numb. Maybe she had tied her sneakers too tight. She pressed on.
Gary had increased his walking pace and turned to look at her. She smiled, which was a mistake. He reached over and turned up the speed on her treadmill.
Stay Sharpe Box Set Page 17