Deadly Setup

by Annslee Urban

  Seth hadn’t seen Gentry since the day of Madison’s death when he showed up at the crime scene demanding answers. And Gentry didn’t look any less frustrated now than he did then.

  “Garrison, I should have known you’d be here,” Gentry barked, fixing him with a caustic stare. “Like her brother, Paige must have you, too, wrapped around her finger. Too bad you can’t keep that woman of yours under control.”

  Seth shifted back in the chair. Although the inference irked him, he wasn’t about to go head-to-head with Gentry. Especially over something that wasn’t true. He wasn’t wrapped around anyone’s finger, and Paige was hardly out of control. Stubborn? Yes. Dedicated? To a fault. She was a sister fighting for her brother’s life.

  Whoa.

  Seth bit back a growl and immediately flushed those thoughts. Here he was defending Paige—to himself.

  Seth rolled his shoulders against the tension coiling through them. Nonetheless, he was glad the chief pulled him back on the case that morning. Being the arresting officer for Trey Becker earned him a place at the table. Things had gotten dangerous in Boone, and Seth had the most knowledge about Trey Becker’s case. As the dividing line between Paige’s case and Madison’s murder continued to blur, he’d been charged to help narrow down a suspect and motive to give the case a definitive focus. Right now they were grasping at straws.

  And the one positive to getting pulled into the fray—he no longer had to wonder what was going on with Paige’s investigation, even if Brett was not happy that the chief had pulled him into the case.

  “Let’s get on with it,” Gentry said, pulling out a chair and seating himself directly in front of Seth. “I’ve got things to get to, so this better not take long.”

  “That depends on you,” Seth said, sliding to the edge of his seat. “The more you cooperate, the quicker we get out of here.”

  “I’m not on trial here, but I’ll do my best.” Gentry glared at Seth, impatience etched into the lines of his face.

  Brett cleared his throat. He stood off to the side, arms folded over his chest, looking like a sentinel ready to pounce if Gentry tried anything.

  They should be so fortunate. Seth knew Gentry wasn’t about to do anything crazy that would get him arrested. He was just testing the waters, deliberately attempting to try their patience while making it clear that he didn’t like having fingers pointed at him.

  “I guess we’ve come full circle, haven’t we?” Gentry sat forward, plunking both elbows on the table. “My sister was brutally murdered. Now the murderer’s sister comes back to Boone and stumbles into harm’s way, and somehow I’m the one being looked at. Amazing.”

  “Accused murderer,” Seth corrected and didn’t wait for Brett to interject. Instead he followed Gentry’s lead and sat forward in his seat. “So, tell me, Gentry. Are we off base with that assumption?”

  Gentry glowered, clearly not liking Seth’s question. And his insolent expression didn’t rate well with Seth. Where was the gregarious gentleman social media raved about? Community activist, model citizen. Apparently a couple of lowly sheriff’s department investigators weren’t worth his time trying to impress.

  “Yes, you are way off base.” His nostrils flared in anger. “Other than having Miss Becker arrested for trespassing, I haven’t had any other interaction with the woman.”

  Seth leaned closer. “Are you aware Amy Miles died today?”

  “Yes.” Gentry frowned. “A tragedy.”

  “It is a tragedy.” Seth met his gaze. “We believe foul play was involved.”

  Gentry stared back, quiet for a moment. “Shocking. I hope you find the culprit.”

  “We’re working on it.” Seth scratched beside his nose. “So tell me, Gentry, what kind of interactions have you had with Amy?”

  “I don’t believe this.” Gentry scoffed and flopped back in his seat as heat rose up his neck and flooded his face. “Amy worked for my family since she was a teenager.” He stopped, cleared his voice to gather composure. “The loss of Amy is just ripping me apart. She was a close family friend.”

  Close friend? Paige’s description of Amy’s demeanor yesterday at the antique mart hovered in Seth’s mind. Nervous. Hesitant. She kept telling Paige she shouldn’t be there. A fearful employee seemed a better description. Seth cleared his voice. “How did you and Amy get along?”

  His dark brows pulled into a tight frown. “I just told you she was like family.”

  “Not all families get along.”

  “Well, we did. We got along just fine.” Anger sparked in Gentry’s gaze. “I know what you’re trying to do, Garrison. Get me to say something that you can misconstrue. But you’ve got nothing to tie me to Amy’s murder or whatever is going on with Paige. I don’t even know why you pulled me in here today.”

  “I understand your frustration,” Seth said with a nod. “However, Paige has had her life threatened since she’s been in town, and now Amy Miles has been murdered. It is our job to talk to people who’ve had interaction with both of them, and you’re one of those people.”

  “Yeah, right.” Gentry shook his head. “That’s just a bunch of cop gibberish for we ain’t got nothing, so let’s look at you.”

  Seth chose to ignore the dig and so did Brett. Instead Brett redirected as he stepped closer to the table. “Yesterday you saw Amy Miles talking to Paige. How did you react to that?”

  “This is nonsense,” Gentry mumbled, straightening up in his seat. “I was irritated, but not at Amy. What upset me is that Paige had the nerve to step foot into my shop. How can she think she’d be welcome after what her brother did to Madison—”

  “Hold up there, Gentry.” Seth held up his palms, trying to keep a neutral tone. “I want to remind you again that Trey may be facing charges for murder, but he hasn’t been convicted.”

  “Yet.” Gentry’s jaw flexed and the word hung like a question mark in the air.

  Seth shifted in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the little what-if banging through his head: What if they were wrong about Trey? Nah. He kicked that thought out and pressed on. That assumption was a long way off. He cleared his throat. “Do you know why Amy would have doubts that Trey killed your sister?”

  Gentry’s eyes narrowed to an icy glare. “I wouldn’t know. She never expressed that opinion to me.”

  “Does her opinion surprise you?”

  Gentry gave a bored shrug. “Amy was a bit of a busybody. She liked information and didn’t mind telling people what they wanted to hear. So who knows what she said or really believed?”

  “It seems that something she believed got her killed.”

  “Again, Detective, I wouldn’t know,” Gentry said, folding his burly arms.

  “No thoughts on why someone might have killed her?”

  Gentry just sat there, his hard-nosed attitude perfected.

  Seth shifted in his seat. “Who did Amy speak to this morning when she called in sick?”

  Gentry’s look thawed a degree, but his face remained in a frown. “The employees know to leave a voice message for me on the shop phone. I check messages when I get to work around eight. The answering machine showed Amy called at 7:26.”

  Assuming Gentry was telling the truth, 7:26 gave someone with an agenda to kill plenty of time to get in and out before Paige showed up at the crime scene around ten that morning. Someone who knew Amy would be home for the day.

  Brett obviously had the same thoughts. He placed his palms on the table and leaned in, forcing Gentry to look at him. “After you received Amy’s message, what were you doing the next two and a half hours?”

  Gentry’s lips flattened to an irritated line. “I went to my mother’s house. I work there the days I have conference calls. Our foreign business records are in my late father’s office, and there are fewer interruptions.”

  Brett slipped into the chair beside Seth, eyeing Gentry directly. “Is there someone who can substantiate that?”

  “Like someone other than my mother
?” Gentry answered with a sarcastic snap.

  “Anyone that actually saw you there,” Brett pointed out drily. “I know your mother has been out of town.”

  The frown between Gentry’s thick brows deepened. He hadn’t been expecting that. Neither had Seth, and he straightened up, actually impressed. Brett was more on top of the investigation than he thought.

  “I spoke to her housekeeper, Mildred Peck,” Brett clarified. “She told me your mother’s been staying with her sister for the last six months.”

  “Yes, she has,” Gentry admitted without so much as a chagrined flinch in his expression. “However, I always call her when I’m at her house. Feel free to check the phone records.”

  “We are talking about two and half hours, Gentry.” Seth was losing his patience. “Certainly you weren’t on the phone with your mother that long.”

  “I figured I might need this.” Gentry rocked back in the chair, dug into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “I had a Skype conference from eight fifteen until almost ten.” He slid the paper across the table. “It’s a Skype log from the computer in my father’s office. Take a look.” He graced Seth with a sardonic look. “Those Asian vendors can be long-winded when they’re trying to sell something.”

  Brett picked up the call log, quickly assessed it and then handed it back to Gentry.

  “Thanks.” Gentry pocketed the paper. “Now can I get out of here? I have a business to run.”

  “One more question,” Brett said. “Did Amy have any issues with anyone that you know of? Someone in her personal life or a coworker?”

  “I wouldn’t know.” Gentry shrugged. “I stay out of my employees’ business at work and otherwise.”

  Yeah, right. Then how did he know Amy liked to gossip? Seth shook his head.

  “Okay.” Brett straightened with a sigh. “That’s it for now. I’m sure we’ll have more questions and be back in touch.”

  “Actually, I have a question,” Seth said calmly, earning him a sharp brow lift from Brett. “After the automobile accident that claimed your father’s life several years ago, did your family ever receive a financial settlement?”

  Halfway out of the chair, Gentry froze, his backside suspended in midair. “What kind of question is that?” he grunted, an insolent look on his face.

  One that obviously hit a nerve. Seth hitched a shoulder. “Just looking for information. We need to consider all angles.”

  Gentry’s eyes narrowed. “Do you really think Madison’s murder would have anything to do with our family trust?”

  Interesting concept. One Seth planned to explore. He smiled. “Was Trey aware of Madison’s share of the trust?”

  Gentry’s face went placid and he reclaimed his seat. “I’m not sure what Madison told him. We’ve always kept our finances private. I’m not even sure if Madison knew how much her share was...”

  Seth sat back and let him talk, the tension in the room easing as the conversation shifted away from Gentry and toward Trey.

  “...I’m usually the one in touch with the executor,” Gentry concluded. “When Madison needed money, she’d let me know.”

  But Gentry knew exactly how much money was in her trust. Seth’s ears perked, and he tucked that little tidbit to the back of his mind. Refraining from commenting further, Seth waited for Brett to interject. He didn’t.

  “Is that it?” Gentry raised his hands after a moment.

  “For now,” Seth said. “However, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your distance from Paige. That way your intentions can’t be misconstrued.” He fixed Gentry with a hard stare, hoping he caught his drift. His remark was no idle threat, just in case Gentry had any intentions of causing Paige grief—or worse. He’d have to contend with Seth first.

  Gentry got to his feet. “No problem. Just tell her to stay away from my shop.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Cramer. We appreciate your cooperation.” Brett pushed back in his chair.

  Seth followed suit, adding, “We’ll be in touch.”

  “Seth.” Brett caught him on the way out the door. The look of disdain on his face told Seth he was in the hot seat again. Brett kept his voice low and direct. “Why didn’t you tell me about the Cramers’ family trust?”

  Seth lifted a shoulder. “I wasn’t sure there was one. Or even if it was relevant.”

  “But you suspected there was and didn’t bother to mention it to me?”

  Seth felt his teeth grit. Amy Miles was dead, and Paige’s life was in jeopardy. They didn’t have time for sore egos. “It just came to mind, Brett. So I asked about it.”

  “Anything else you suspect but haven’t mentioned?” The annoyance in Brett’s eyes shone bright. “Because if we have to work together, I don’t want any more surprises.”

  A glance at the hard line of Brett’s jaw only reinforced why Seth preferred to work alone. Seth shook his head. “Nothing I can think of. But if I have an inkling about something, I’ll be sure to share it.”

  Brett jerked a short nod, and Seth drew in a long, narrow breath and walked out the door. Oh, brother. He’d only officially rejoined the case a couple hours ago and already conflict was brewing.

  SIX

  By the time Seth finally stepped back into the lobby, Paige was full of questions about Gentry and what, if any, information they’d garnered from him. She hadn’t expected that Gentry would come out and openly admit his guilt, but after her interaction with Gentry yesterday and Amy’s untimely death today, surely he had risen to the top of the suspect list. But Seth was frustratingly tight-lipped about their conversation and suspicions of him, saying only, “Gentry was more obstinate than cordial. But he did cooperate.”

  Detective jargon for there’s nothing you need to know. Which meant she was left to come up with her own conclusions. And, with all the fear-driven anxiety clawing at her brain, hardly a reliable source of surmising.

  Seth gestured toward the upholstered sofa and chairs in the lobby. “Brett’s checking with the forensics team for an update on their findings. So if you’d like to have a seat, I have a couple more questions for you.”

  More questions? Paige’s muscles chilled. She’d already spent an hour being grilled about her interactions with Amy and Gentry the day before and her discovery of Amy’s body today. She was pretty much talked out. “I’ve already told you everything I know. Everything I saw—”

  “It’s okay, Paige.” Seth placed his hand on her arm, the warmth of his touch deescalating her panic. “We’re not going to talk about Amy’s murder.”

  Paige resisted a sigh as she resumed her seat on the small vinyl sofa while Seth perched on the edge of the coffee table across from her.

  “I know this has been an upsetting day,” he started, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. “This won’t take long, then we’ll get out of here.”

  There was something about the way Seth leaned in and the burdensome glint in his dark brown eyes that sent a prickly sensation racing along the nape of Paige’s neck. Like he was about to drop some sort of new bombshell. Some other incriminating nonsense to heap on her brother’s case.

  Paige took a deep breath, hoping she was misreading him. Which could well be the case, given the anxiety clawing at her chest. And it didn’t help that she’d hit brick walls at every juncture since she arrived back in Boone. Add in Amy’s murder and the thought of one more emotional blow seemed overwhelming.

  But she couldn’t buckle. Couldn’t let Seth see the emotional brokenness she was struggling with. She was tired, weary. But that information would only encourage him to push harder for her to leave. And there was more at stake than her. Trey needed to stay first priority.

  Paige tried to prepare herself emotionally to keep fighting. Leaning against the arm of the sofa, she prayed her face wasn’t giving anything away. “Okay, what questions do you have?”

  Seth looked tired. Perplexed. Like the puzzle pieces weren’t fitting. “Did Trey ever mention Madison having a stake in the family trust fund?�
�

  For a moment Paige thought he was kidding. Trey made a fairly good living as head of security for the local pulp mill, and Madison worked for the family business, and yet Paige recalled Trey often complaining that they struggled to make ends meet. Madison liked nice things, and Trey was generous to a fault, never wanting her to do without. Paige chalked up their struggles to those issues. But a trust fund? That didn’t make sense.

  “No. I never heard anything about a trust fund.” She eyed Seth closely and shook her head. “Don’t you remember the couple times we met Trey and Madison for dinner? We picked up the tab. They never had any money.”

  Tilting his head, Seth regarded her through narrowed eyes. “Well, apparently Madison did have money. Or access to it.”

  Another jaw-dropping statement. Paige firmed up her chin and sat up straighter. Had Trey known about a trust fund and hidden it from her? No sooner did that thought form in her head than an even more disturbing question appeared. Even if Trey had known, why would that information be relevant now? She looked at Seth blankly. “If Madison had a trust fund, obviously my brother didn’t have access to it, so why bring it up now?”

  For a moment Seth just sat there, and the quiet that followed ratcheted up Paige’s heart rate and her concern. All of her effort to discover new evidence to help her brother’s case and Seth stumbled on something new. And of course, he’d try to use it against Trey.

  “Money is a strong motivator,” Seth finally said. “So the trust fund is definitely something we’ll look into and try to figure out if it played a part in Madison’s murder.”

  Paige’s heart dropped. “Do you really think Trey killed Madison over money?” She couldn’t help the irritated look she shot at Seth. “You knew him better than that.”

  For a moment Seth said nothing, his face neutral, but the doubting look in his eyes told her once again they didn’t agree. “People can change when things get difficult.”

  She got that, all right. She thumped her arms over her chest. But now wasn’t the time to broach their issues.