“That doesn’t matter.” He caught sight of the raised eyebrow Deena shot him. “I mean, of course it matters. It’s just that the investigation was flawed. When it got out that Detective Guttman wasn’t in town and didn’t sign off on the investigation, rumors started flying. Apparently, others have speculated about Allison Granger’s affair and possible involvement.”
“But those are just rumors. We haven’t seen any solid evidence.”
“Exactly.” Dan leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “That’s where you come in. You’ve got to keep digging and make sure the police do their job.”
It all sounded a bit underhanded to Deena. Obviously, she wanted justice for Drew, but was this the right way to go about it?
As though he had read her mind, Dan tried his best to allay any doubt she was feeling. “Look, Deena, if you want to be a journalist, this is what we do. It’s the same as when you worked as an investigator for that defense attorney. The only difference is that we give the facts to the public.” He paused. Then, “Remember when we solved the case of the woman strangled by her knitting? You were proud of our work then, weren’t you?”
She nodded.
“You’ll be proud of this story, too, when it’s all said and done.”
Dan had made a good point. Although, she was determined not to embellish the facts just to sell newspapers. Still, it felt like a lot of responsibility on her shoulders. “But what if it turns out that it was just a suicide? Then I will have stirred up a hornet’s nest for nothing.”
“Not for nothing. For the truth.” He loosened his tie again. “I’ll admit that a homicide would make a better story, but we can only go where the facts take us. Okay?” He held out the pen again.
“Okay. But I’m not ready to sign yet. I want to make sure you hold up your end of the bargain.”
“I like your skepticism.”
She took the pen from him. “This pen is going to be your word that we are only going to print the facts.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, and speaking of facts, you better check your sources more carefully. According to Allison, she isn’t pregnant.”
“What?” Dan tossed the folder on the stack of files. “That’s not what she’s been telling people. I got that from two different women at the hair salon.”
Deena laughed. “You go to the hair salon?” She pictured Dan with one of those vinyl leopard capes draped over his shoulders.
He set his jaw defensively. “How else do you think we get leads? It’s not gossiping. It’s networking.”
She had a sudden sinking feeling and wondered if her own hairdresser had loose lips. “You don’t happen to go to Kristy at the Manely Beauty Salon, do you?”
“No, Cheryl.”
Cheryl worked at the station right next to Kristy. She was indeed a gossip. Relieved, Deena got out her notes and started catching Dan up with events from the reading of Drew’s will and the meeting between Nina and Woody Davenport.
Dan was impressed. “You really used a hidden tape recorder? Way to go, cutie. But you know we can issue you one from here.”
“I didn’t think of that,” she confessed. “Anyway, it turned out to be nothing. Woody was just playing another one of his cons.”
“Still, you haven’t ruled out the sister.”
Deena shook her head. “Nina? She didn’t kill her brother, I’m sure of it.”
Dan steepled his fingers with his elbows resting on the desk. “Based on what? Your gut or facts?”
“Based on the fact that she was in Nevada when Drew died.”
“Says who?”
Deena huffed and threw out her hands. Why was he being so obstinate?
Dan’s face softened. “Look, I’m not trying to frustrate you, I’m just pointing out the facts. It’s the job of the police to track down the killer, if there is one. We just raise the questions. Have you talked to Guttman since the story broke?”
“No. I have a feeling he doesn’t want to talk to me.”
Dan grinned. “Since when did that stop you?”
“Good point.”
Dan stood and walked around the desk. “I want you to file your story about the estate going to Andrew Granger’s sister. That’s fact as well as public information. Then talk to Guttman and see if they are reopening the investigation. Call me later and fill me in.”
Deena followed him to the door. “In the meantime, trust no one. Is that right?”
“You got it, cutie.”
Chapter 23
The nagging feeling that she was making a murder out of a molehill made for a restless night’s sleep for Deena. Maybe Drew had been suicidal and had taken his own life. The people who would know best were his wife and coworkers. She couldn’t trust Allison to be honest, since it was in her best interest to claim someone murdered her husband. If it turned out to be true, she would get her husband’s inheritance, including his life insurance. No, she needed to speak to people Drew had worked with.
Maybe his secretary would have an opinion about Drew’s state of mind leading up to his death. After all, it’s usually the secretary at any business who really keeps the place running. That was certainly true when Deena was a high school teacher. If you wanted to know anything about your supply order or the school calendar, you always bypassed the principal and went straight to the school secretary.
As Deena headed back to the winery Wednesday morning, she knew that Vera Clausen would be the first person on her list to question. Hopefully, she would be able to avoid Lonnie Fisher this time around. She had a feeling he wasn’t happy with her stirring up trouble for the vineyard.
Vera was working a crossword puzzle and had her feet up on a space heater when Deena entered the office. She looked up as Deena stood in front of the desk.
“Oh dear. I didn’t hear you come in. You’re Mrs. Sharpe, right? Is Mr. Fisher expecting you? If so, he didn’t tell me about it. No one tells me anything anymore. People just come and go as they please. Whether it’s the police, or a buyer, or—”
“Did you say police?” Deena took the liberty of pulling one of the chairs in the waiting area up to Vera’s desk.
Surprisingly, Vera reacted as if they were old friends having a chat. “Yes. That detective from the Maycroft PD was here yesterday. Asked me a bunch of questions about the business and the Grangers and such. He sure is handsome.”
What was with these women? When he first arrived in Maycroft, Linus Guttman was like a city slicker at a rodeo. He grew a beard, and suddenly he was the belle of the ball. “Um, I guess. What sort of things did he tell you?”
Vera leaned in and lowered her voice. “I can trust you, can’t I? I know you’re the reporter writing those stories about Mr. Granger. I need this job, so I don’t want my name in the paper.”
Deena flashed her empty hands. “No notes, I promise. I’m just looking for background information.”
Vera proceeded to tell Deena the most mundane, inconsequential facts about Granger’s Grapes she could imagine. Everything from how the guys in the field kept stealing each other’s lunches to who was using their company cell phone for personal business. She could only imagine how Detective Guttman would have reacted to such nonsense. But then the woman said something that caught her attention.
“Layla Baxter—she’s the bookkeeper—acts like she’s the boss around here. She’s the only one allowed to go into Mr. Granger’s office, besides Mr. Fisher, of course. Rumor has it she used her big raise last year to get a ‘big raise’ for her ta-tas, if you know what I mean.”
Deena nodded. “Disgraceful. But you aren’t suggesting she was sleeping with one of the bosses, are you?”
“Oh heavens, no. Neither of them seemed interested in her. They never seemed to socialize. Now, the guys working the field are a different matter.”
“I see.” Deena noticed Vera’s calendar. It was almost blank except for some doodling. “Let’s go back to the week Mr. Granger died. Did you notice anything
unusual about his demeanor?”
Vera grinned. “That’s the same question that detective asked me. Like I told him. Mr. Granger seemed more worried than usual. Not sad, but stressed. He and Mr. Fisher both seemed stressed. Neither said anything to me directly, but Mr. Fisher nearly took my head off when I asked him where he was going when he left early that day.”
“What day?”
“The day Mr. Granger died.”
“That seems suspicious. Did you tell Detective Guttman?”
Vera glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the hallway leading to Lonnie’s office. “I did. He said he would be back to talk to Mr. Fisher.”
“Why didn’t he talk to him yesterday?”
“Mr. Fisher had gone up to Dallas on business and wasn’t here.”
Deena wanted to talk to the bookkeeper to see if she knew anything about why Drew was upset those days leading up to his death. But first, she had another idea. She wanted to know where Lonnie Fisher had gone that day. “Do you know if Mr. Granger kept a personal calendar?”
Vera nodded. “Oh sure. He wrote down everything.”
“Is there a chance I could see it?”
“You’d have to ask Layla. She keeps Mr. Granger’s door locked ever since...” She scratched her head. “That’s right. You were the one who snuck into his office.”
Deena felt her face redden. “Um, uh...”
“Don’t worry. I understand that you are a reporter and were just doing your job.” Then she leaned her generous bosom on the desk and whispered to Deena, “I suppose you want to know what was written on his calendar on the day he died.”
Deena’s eyes widened as she mouthed the word “yes.”
“It said ‘Allison’s book club.’”
That was the big secret? It matched exactly what Allison had said.
Deena saw Vera look up with wide eyes before she heard the voice behind her.
“Mrs. Clausen! I’m not paying you to sit around here and gossip.”
Deena spun around to face Lonnie. “We weren’t gossiping. We’re networking.”
“Mrs. Sharpe,” he said, in a less accusatory tone. “I didn’t realize that was you.”
She flashed her most innocent-looking smile. “I just came by to ask a few questions.”
“I’m glad you did.” Lonnie helped her up by the arm. “Let’s go to my office so we can talk in private.” He glared at Vera and then led Deena down the hall.
“Please have a seat.” Lonnie was once again dressed impeccably, although his shoes had a little less shine and the knot on his tie was looser than before.
Deena pulled out her notepad in order to signal she was there on official newspaper business. “I understand that Detective Guttman was here yesterday asking questions.”
He half rolled his eyes. “No doubt Vera got a kick out of telling you that. Apparently, she wanted to make a big deal over my whereabouts the day Drew died. As I will explain to Detective Guttman, I drove up to Dallas to check on a warehouse space we have made an offer on. I have a witness who can verify I was there. Would you like his name?”
Lonnie’s demeanor was calm except for his aggravation with his secretary. “That won’t be necessary. I’m really here to ask about Drew’s mood and behavior on the days leading up to his death. I know you said he was unhappy with Allison, but I wondered if you thought he was depressed?”
Lonnie leaned back in his chair and folded his hands. He seemed to study Deena for a long moment. This time there was no ring on his finger, only an indentation where it once was. “You lied to me,” he said at last.
“Pardon me?”
“The last time you were here you said you were writing a sort of tribute to Andrew. The article in the newspaper was hardly a tribute.”
Deena held her head erect. “As it turns out, there was a new angle to the story as I started digging into the matter. It’s not like I wrote anything derogatory about him.”
“True enough.” Lonnie pulled something out of his desk drawer. “In fact, I wasn’t completely honest with you either.” He passed her the piece of paper. “Here. Read this.”
It was a piece of cream-colored linen stationery embossed with the letter G. She opened it up and read:
My beloved queen,
I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me after all these years we have been together. I know the pain I have caused you and wish I could take it all away. I can’t bear to be with you any longer under the circumstances. I wish I could. Even though we will no longer be together, I will always carry you in my heart.
Love always,
Drew
Deena read it again, her chest tightening with every word. “This sounds like a suicide note. Where did you get it?”
“I found it in Drew’s drawer the day he died.” He took out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead.
“Did you show it to anyone? Did you show it to Allison?”
As Lonnie stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket, he shook his head. “No. I didn’t have the heart to. I thought she had suffered enough without knowing she was the cause of her husband’s suicide.” He reached for the note and stared at it.
Deena mulled over the words she had just read. What did Drew mean by “under the circumstances”? She asked Lonnie if he knew.
“I can only speculate that he was talking about their marriage.” He folded up the note and laid it back on his desk.
“Could it have something to do with Allison being pregnant?”
Lonnie jerked his head back and glared at Deena. “Mrs. Sharpe. That is the second time you have made that accusation. I believe Allison made it very clear the other day at her attorney’s office that she is not pregnant.”
Remembering what Dan had said, she shot back, “Then why was she going around telling everyone she was?”
“I guess you’d have to ask her that.”
Deena stood up. “I plan to. And while I’m at it, I think Detective Guttman should see that suicide note. He’ll want to verify its authenticity. After all, it could be the proof he needs to rule Drew’s death a suicide.”
Lonnie walked around his desk to stand by Deena. “Mrs. Sharpe, I didn’t mean to antagonize you. I know you are just doing your job. We are all devastated by Drew’s death. I should have come forward with this note before. It wasn’t until yesterday that I realized the detective was taking another look at the case.”
Deena looked into his wet eyes. The man’s grief was obvious. “I’m sorry to have been so defensive, it’s just that I’m the reason for this whole mix-up. I’m the girl who cried ‘murder,’ and I feel just awful about it.”
Lonnie reached for the note and handed it to Deena. “Here. Take this to Allison or the police or whoever. I know you just want to see justice done. I was probably wrong for keeping it to myself. Do what you think is right.”
Deena was surprised but relieved to have solid evidence. “Thank you, Lonnie. I think I should show it to Allison in person and give her a chance to come to grips with it before I give it to Detective Guttman.”
“That sounds best to me, too.” Lonnie reached out and shook her hand. “Good luck.”
Although it was another tight squeeze, at least his ring didn’t bore into her skin.
As she turned to leave, Lonnie added one last request. “If possible, Mrs. Sharpe, could you please keep Drew’s last words out of the newspaper? I’m sure he meant them to stay private.”
“I will.” As she headed out to her car, she worried about Dan. Knowing him, he’d want to publish a photocopy of the note in the newspaper. She tucked the note safely in her handbag. It would be tricky, but she’d have to figure out a way to keep the note out of her editor’s hands.
If Allison could verify that Drew indeed wrote the suicide note, it would be time to mark this case as closed.
Chapter 24
How could she have let things get so far out of hand? Was she blinded by ambition? Perhaps her desire to make a name for herself c
louded her good sense. Whatever it was, she was prepared to eat crow when Guttman ruled Drew’s death a suicide...again.
Her first hurdle, however, would be showing Allison the letter. Not only would she probably feel responsible for her husband’s death, but it would make it even harder for her to claim her rights to the Granger estate. Her attorney had a big fight on his hands if they were going to challenge Edward Granger’s morals clause.
Deena’s cell phone rang. It was an unknown number. She debated letting it go to voicemail, but her curiosity won out. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Sharpe, it’s Allison Granger. I was hoping we could get together to talk.”
“Are you at work?”
“No, I took the week off. I’m at home.”
“Perfect,” Deena said. “I’ll be right over.”
* * *
“WHAT A COINCIDENCE that you were wanting to see me when I called.” Allison waved Deena into the den. “Do you want some coffee?”
“Sure, if you are having some.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been living on coffee for the past two weeks.” She headed to the kitchen. “Cream and sugar?”
“Yes. Lots of both.”
Pregnant women don’t drink gallons of coffee, at least not these days. Deena glanced around the room. There were plenty of photographs of Allison and Drew. Most looked like vacation pictures. They appeared happy. The most obvious sign of disarray was the stack of bills and legal papers strewn across the dining table.
Allison returned with the coffee. The not-so-merry widow was looking drab in her jeans and oversized Dallas Cowboys jersey. Deena wondered if it had belonged to Drew. Judging from the pictures, it would probably have been big on him too.
“Excuse the mess,” she said and handed a cup to Deena. “I’m up to my eyeballs in paperwork. Drew paid all the bills, and I’m trying to figure out what’s what.” She took a gulp from the steaming cup. “I used to think all he was good for was killing the occasional spider in the bathroom. Boy, was I wrong.”
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