Exercise Is Murder

by Bruce Hammack

  Steve rubbed his chin. “We then asked, ‘What if the murder of Ned Logan was made to look like he died later than he actually did?’ We know he sank to the bottom of the pool. We also know the pool’s water wasn’t circulating. What could have changed his body’s temperature and decreased the salinity of the water?”

  Carey Logan, looking straight ahead, said, “Ice.”

  “Thank you, Carey,” said Steve. “You have the mind of a scientist. In a pool that size it wouldn’t take a huge amount of ice to lower the water temperature, especially if the water wasn’t being circulated. The cold water and the body both settled to the bottom. The time of death could easily be an hour or two before what was estimated. Eight to ten bags of ice would also explain the dilution of the salt in the water.”

  Connor Logan piped up. “But Sunny spoke to Dad at—”

  Heather anticipated Steve’s next question. She rose from her chair and stood beside him.

  “Ms. LaForce,” said Steve. “In light of what you’ve just heard, would you like to retract your statement concerning who answered the phone when you called Ned Logan’s phone at eight fifteen?”

  If looks could kill, Steve would have joined Maggie and Ned. Sunny crossed her arms and proclaimed, “Check the phone records. Check the cameras from this building. You’ll see that I was here at the office and that I placed a call to Ned at eight fifteen, just like I said. You admitted it a while ago.”

  “Yes. You did indeed call Ned’s phone, and someone answered, but it wasn’t Ned. He couldn’t. Dead men don’t answer phones.” Steve pointed in the direction of Sunny. “Remember, Ms. LaForce, I said no one in this room killed Ned Logan. I didn’t say someone here was not complicit in his death.”

  Those attending had moved in their seats. Their gazes shifted from Steve to Sunny and stayed there.

  “One more question, Ms. LaForce. How long have you known Rance Roberts?”

  Connor Logan leaped to his feet. “That can’t be. She and I are…”

  His sentence died in mid-air as a malevolent smile pulled up one side of Sunny’s top lip.

  Steve spoke in a calm voice as he addressed the gathering. “You might like to know why I’m wearing an eye patch tonight. It’s because Rance Roberts, the lawn maintenance man for the Logan household and the co-conspirator of Ned Logan’s murder, took a shot at me this morning. Luckily, he missed. All he managed to do was send a rather large splinter into my eye.”

  Gasps came from several, but the loudest from Kate Logan.

  “Detective Lowe,” said Steve. “Would you like to give us an update on Rance Roberts?”

  “Glad to. Detective Hall and I took Rance Roberts into custody about three hours ago. We recovered a recently fired .243 rifle from behind the seat of his pickup. He tested positive for gunshot residue. Spring P.D. recovered the round he shot at you. We’re sending it and the rifle for ballistics tests. We also recovered a five-gallon water cooler and a large ice chest from his truck. We’ll be confirming Roberts’ statement that Ms. LaForce made a large purchase of ice the morning of Mr. Logan’s murder. We still have a lot of checking to do, but we’ve already established Rance Roberts and Sunny LaForce went on a cruise together six months ago.”

  The color drained from Sunny’s face.

  “Thank you, Detective Lowe,” said Steve. “Before you escort Ms. LaForce to jail, I’d like to ask our two attorneys if they have any legal advice for her.”

  “I do,” said Heather. “Honey, you’re up to your push-up bra in trouble. You’re not going to flirt your way out of this. For heaven’s sake, give up the fake Georgia accent. It took me five minutes flat to learn you were born and raised in Baytown.”

  Heather looked to Brittany Brown, whose words seethed out. “Don’t be looking for a final paycheck.”

  Handcuffs came out and red-faced Sunny LaForce quoted three pages from The Sailor’s Handbook of Obscene Words and Phrases before Detectives Lowe and Hall subdued and frog-marched her out the door. Connor Logan looked on, slack-jawed.

  Brittany Brown stood and said, “Steve, Heather–you two know how to put on a show.”

  Steve chuckled. “I wanted to waste a little time and give the detectives a chance to enjoy the food. And speaking of food and time, let’s take a break. Unless I miss my guess, all the glasses are empty and everyone could use a refill.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Pages of the will made flapping, rustling sounds as people flipped to the next page at the same time. Brittany Brown concluded the reading of Ned Logan’s last will and testament as the family members read along with their copies. Kate’s eyebrows pushed together like someone squeezed her temples.

  “This is all Greek to me. What was that term you used? In Loco something,” said Kate.

  “In Loco Pater Familial,” said Brittany. “It’s Latin for ‘in the place of the father,’ or ‘acting in the place of the father.’ What it means is this: Ned handed all decision-making authority relating to his estate to Mr. Smiley. Steve is not only the executor of the will, but he has the legal authority to make any and all decisions concerning the estate until Connor reaches thirty years of age.”

  Kate sat erect, her posture as rigid as a block of granite. “How can that be? I was his wife.”

  “Not exactly,” replied Heather.

  A gaze like hot pokers bore into Heather. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Ms. McBlythe is right,” said Brittany Brown. “Technically, you and Ned legally separated four years ago. Ned did all the things he needed to do to make everything legal and binding so you would have no say-so on the disposition of the majority of monies or property in case his death preceded yours.”

  “I’ll fight this,” shouted Kate. “This isn’t right. I…I’ll—”

  Heather interrupted with a simple, “No you won’t.”

  “Yes, I will.” Her nostrils flared.

  Steve joined the fray with a firm, “No you won’t, Kate. You won’t have to.” He paused and rose from his chair. “Before you or anyone else flies off the handle, I want you to listen carefully. I didn’t ask for this, and I’m not happy about being in this position. I never wanted to be a father and I sure didn’t want to be some sort of surrogate husband. But Ned chose me and he did so for a reason. That reason is he didn’t trust any of you, with one possible exception. In your own way each of you kicked Ned out of your lives over four years ago. You may have pushed him out, but he remained faithful to each of you. If you’ll be quiet and listen, you’ll find out how faithful.”

  The tone of Steve’s voice, the crisp articulation of his words, the rigid stance he took all displayed leadership. Heather scanned their faces. He sure got their attention.

  “Good,” said Steve. “Everyone’s listening. The first thing I want to do is give you an idea of assets and liabilities. I’ve asked Ms. McBlythe to help me with this.”

  Heather stood as Steve settled back into his chair. “I’ve only had a chance to do a preliminary survey. Based on what I know so far, after debts and other liabilities are serviced, the estate of Ned Logan will be in excess of fifteen million dollars, not including the home, cars, and other miscellaneous items.”

  Kate gasped. Connor sat wide-eyed, while Carey took it in stride.

  “It will interest you to know that ten million of the fifteen million comes from a real estate development deal Ned and Mr. Brant Speedwell were involved in. Mr. Speedwell’s debt for legal services has been bought out by an unnamed investor. That ten million dollars is in the law firm’s account, ready for dispersal at the pleasure of Mr. Smiley. Steve will now explain to you how he intends to distribute these funds.”

  All eyes shifted to Steve. “I’ll start with Brittany Brown. Over the next twelve months you will receive payments amounting to one million dollars.” Brittany’s right hand went over her heart. “Ned Logan was a man of his word. He promised you’d be compensated for all the work you’ve done. In addition, I’m entering into an agreement to sell the Logan Law Fir
m. I have a cash offer in the seven-figure range. The only stipulation is that Ms. Brown is retained as a full partner.”

  Heather spoke next. “The figure of fifteen million dollars was mentioned a while ago. One million is going to Ms. Brown. That leaves nine million that will be going to the family. They will also receive an additional four million, the difference between what is owed on this building, the sale price of the building, and the purchase of the law firm.”

  Heather took her seat and whispered to a damp-eyed Brittany Brown, “Are you all right, partner?”

  Her eyes widened and she whispered back, “You’re buying everything?”

  Heather smiled the smile of a cat finishing a bowl of half-and-half. “Who knew Pat Beerhalter had that kind of money? Actually, my father jumped at the chance to float me a loan when I ran the numbers by him and showed him the growth potential.”

  Steve turned. “If you two are finished, I’ll get on with this.”

  “Sorry,” said Heather.

  Steve took in a big breath. Heather knew this would be the hardest part for him. He straightened his shoulders and said, “There’s fourteen million dollars on the table and I bet you’re already thinking of ways to spend it. For at least two of you, that’s the same problem Ned ran into. You have no trouble spending, but you don’t want to earn it. That’s why he structured the deal with Mr. Speedwell the way he did.”

  “What do you mean by that?” asked Kate.

  Steve ignored her question and shot back with, “Kate, tell me, what does Carey want to do with her life?”

  “Why…she wants to marry well and travel and…what business is that of yours?”

  Steve shook his head. “You don’t have a clue what she wants, do you Kate?” He shifted his head slightly. “Carey. I have fourteen million dollars to divide three ways. How much money do I have to give you?”

  In less time than it takes to blink Carey said, “4.66 million. Actually the sixes reach to infinity, so someone will get an extra penny.”

  “What would you do with all that money?”

  She didn’t need to think. “Finish my undergraduate at Brown, then move on to a Masters and PhD at either Stanford or Harvard.”

  “Why those two schools?”

  “They’re cutting edge in Alzheimer’s research.”

  “Excellent,” said Steve. “I’ll make sure you have all you need and give you a million dollars each time you complete a degree. You’ll get the balance when you complete your doctorate.”

  “Now wait a minute,” huffed Kate. “That’s not what Carey and I agreed would be her future. She’s to get her degree in public affairs, marry and settle down in New York, and—”

  “Oh, Mother, please. Give it a rest. That’s your dream, not mine.”

  Kate bristled. “It’s all a moot point. There’s no way you’re getting into a prestigious master’s program with your grades. You’re doing good to scrape by now.”

  Carey had somehow matured five years with Steve’s announcement of his intention to allow her to live her dream. She turned to her mother and spoke in an even voice. “You only know what I send you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My degree will not be in public affairs. Chemistry has been my major since day one. I created official-looking forms and printed fake grade sheets to mail to you. The real grades went to Dad. He didn’t like me deceiving you, but he understood why I had to.” She looked down and smoothed her skirt. “Just like me wearing these silly poodle things. I’d never wear anything like this at Brown. I do it when I come home so you’ll gripe about my wardrobe and not ask endless questions about what rich guy I’m going to hook so you can live your life through me.” She kept looking down at an appliqued poodle on a chain. “Dad understood. He told me all about the ten million dollars that was going to start rolling in. He was so smart. He knew what Mr. Smiley would do.”

  Carey looked up at Steve. “Sorry I led you on with some of my answers, Mr. Smiley. I wasn’t positive how you’d disperse the funds. I was so afraid Mom would get it all.”

  Kate’s gaze shifted to the floor. She appeared to have been felled by a severe blow.

  Steve swallowed hard and spoke through a cracked voice. “No harm, Carey.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s move on to Connor.”

  “Yeah,” said Connor. “Let’s do.” Enthusiasm strained his vocal cords. Heather noted how quickly his broken heart had healed. It only took the promise of 4.6 million dollars to clear his mind of Sunny LaForce.

  Steve turned to Heather. “Would you mind taking this one?”

  “Glad to,” said Heather as she stood and Steve took a seat. She gave Connor a tight-lipped smile and said, “Mr. Logan…have you ever noticed how everyone calls you Connor and not Mr. Logan?”

  “Huh? Well…no, I never noticed.”

  “Why do you think that is?” She didn’t allow him to answer. “It’s simple. You don’t act like a Mr. Logan. You act like a Connor. Here you are, twenty-four-and-a-half years old and you’re begging your mom for money, hocking your car to get a grub stake to invest in something that doesn’t exist and mooning over a blonde-in-a-bottle whose dress didn’t start soon enough, on the top or the bottom. Didn’t you wonder why a few months ago she wouldn’t give you the time of day and the next thing you know she’s wanting to bed you and wed you, not necessarily in that order?” Again, she didn’t give Connor a chance to respond. “By the way, Mr. Logan, she planned to be a young widow after she had your name on a marriage license.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Heather tented her hands on her hips. “Don’t you get it? The killing of your father was the first part of her plan. The second part was for her to offer you comfort while Rance Roberts did the same with your mother.”

  “Huh?”

  “Turn the power on,” shouted Heather. “Sunny LaForce had fifteen million reasons for killing your father. She planned to lead you by the nose, or some other piece of your anatomy, down the aisle and she’d be Mrs. Connor Logan. After that your mother would have a fatal accident. Then you’d be next in line.”

  “I…I can’t believe she’d do something like that.” His words had all the conviction of a shy middle school boy asking a girl to a school dance.

  “She and Rance had already murdered once. What’s two more?” Heather glanced at Kate. The color had drained from her face.

  Heather shifted her gaze back to Connor. “Sweet Sunny had you pegged as a naïve, reckless Cub Scout with money and gullibility coming out your ears.”

  The sweat on Connor’s upper lip told Heather she’d gotten through to him. “Two words for you, Mr. Logan…grow up!”

  Connor’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

  “To help you grow up, Mr. Smiley has devised a plan. I advised against it, but Steve’s more trusting than I am.” She paused. “Your father wanted you to work as a real estate agent. He did this because he saw in you exceptional people skills. You’re handsome and engaging and there’s an honest streak in you that’s most admirable. The only things you lack are discipline, judgment and maturity. Working under the direction of a good broker, and in the company of professionals, will help you become a man your father would have been proud of.”

  Heather took a sharp turn with the conversation. “Mr. Logan, list for me the businesses in this building.”

  “Uh…a mortgage company on the first floor, a construction company and a title company on the second, and Dad’s law office up here.”

  “With a lot of open space on the top floor,” added Heather as she opened her arms wide. “Why do you think your dad never filled that space with other attorneys, or something else?”

  “I never thought about it,” he admitted.

  “Well, start thinking. The only thing keeping this building from being one-stop-shopping is a top real estate sales team. Don’t you see? Your dad was waiting for you to grow up and join him. Not in the same office, but on the same floor.”

  Connor’s eyes d
arted back and forth as revelation of his father’s love fell on him.

  Heather kept going, mainly so she wouldn’t get choked up. “With you or without you, this top floor will be renovated and a team of real estate professionals will be working here.” She waited for Connor to look up. “Here’s the deal. Mr. Smiley has $4.6 million to give to you on or before your thirtieth birthday. If you want to do nothing until then, fine. You’ll get a lump sum payment and you can blow it all. However, if you want to man up and go to work, he’s prepared to pay you twenty-five dollars for every dollar you earn. Do the math. Earn a hundred grand in a year and get another $2.5 million. You’ll have the entire amount long before you’re thirty.”

  Connor set his jaw. For the first time Heather saw the man who was aching to get out. She sat down, emotionally worn out, but satisfied she’d done all she could.

  Steve stood. “That only leaves you, Kate. I’ll be blunt. I don’t know what happened between you and Ned, and I don’t want to know. All I know is Ned dropped the responsibility of taking care of you in my lap. If he were here, I’d ask him to stand still so I could take a poke at him.”

  “Me too,” said Kate, but without malice in her voice. The revelations of the day, especially Carey’s testimony of how clueless and self-centered she’d become, seemed to have softened and weighed Kate down at the same time. Connor finally crossing the threshold into manhood must have affected Kate in an equally profound way. She gave no objection to Steve calling her Kate instead of Katherine.

  “What’s my fate, Steve?” asked Kate.

  “Work.” The one word reply hung in the air like a Mylar balloon. “You’ll have the same deal as Connor. Earn a dollar and you get twenty-five more. If you want to sell your house and get something more manageable, I’ll give Connor all the money he needs to fix it up and tear out the exercise pool.”

  Kate looked up, her face registering doubt. “I’ve been out of the workplace a long time. I don’t know what I can do.”