by Kate Young
I took a shuddering breath and lifted my gaze. Something caught my eye in the man’s hand. It might have belonged to his attacker. A tie or rope? When my eyes moved to the man’s face, I gasped. The man’s eyes were frozen wide open, his mouth agape.
Oh God! I stumbled backward until my back hit the brick fireplace. My ears were buzzing, and my stomach lurched. Oh no—no no no! Leonard Richardson was dead.
Chapter Three
Police and medical personnel swarmed the house. The guests were corralled into the family room, formal living room, and front porch. Mother, Gran, and I were standing in the hallway off the kitchen. Mother stood stoically, her gaze distant. Soft murmurs echoed down the hallway from the formal living room. The indelible image of Leonard Richardson, I feared, would be permanently imprinted on my brain. I’d seen crime scene photos before, but I’d never in my life experienced what I had in my parents’ library. I was no expert in forensics, but from my assessment, the man had been robbed and beaten to death. Perhaps his head injury had caused him to be sick. I wondered how in the world no one heard the struggle that obviously took place so close to the kitchen. It made no sense. My stomach twisted into knots as Gran and I held hands.
The audible intake of breath from the other room sounded ominous. We turned to see a gurney with the deceased zipped up in a black bag. I took Mother’s hand with my free one as we heard a wail that sounded a lot like Harper from the other room. My heart ached.
“That poor girl. Poor, poor, girl,” Mother whispered. “I just can’t believe this is actually happening. We have the entire hospital board here tonight as well as some of the most prestigious families in the South.” It sounded like a bit of a stretch to me, but I understood her meaning, and I did indeed feel horrible something like this had happened. Mostly for Harper, but also for my mother. She detested any kind of scandal or drama. “Here in the South, behind closed doors, every family had their secrets, and decent people aren’t interested in airing their dirty laundry to the world or catching wind of other folks who do.” I’d heard that all my life. Well, the macabre scene out back would be gossiped about for ages.
“I’m still in shock.” I tried to keep my tone even. After I said it, I wished I’d hadn’t. This wasn’t about my discovery. The Richardson family had experienced a tragic ordeal and a great loss. I echoed Mother’s sentiments on Harper. That poor girl. Her husband had died. No, had not just died—but been murdered. I swallowed.
Mother turned and stared me straight in the face, her expression an odd one. “You had a club meeting tonight?”
“Yes, ma’am. But Daddy dropped Gran off at the meeting, and I drove her home.”
“Oh …” Mother swallowed. “And you said you’re the one who found Leonard Richardson?”
This conversation seemed strange because she knew I’d found Leonard. She must also be experiencing shock. “Yes, ma’am. I went back to see the library and to retrieve some library books for Gran.”
She blinked a few times and gazed off. Gran raised her brows as she glanced from me to my mother. My shoulders rose, then slumped. There was so much here I couldn’t explain. Who could have had the gall to attack the elderly man with all these people present? I knew most of the people here. Well, almost everyone. My mind went back to the man I’d seen earlier.
I cleared my throat and asked Mother about him.
She put her hand on her forehead. “I spoke to a lot of people tonight.”
“The tall, thin one with dark brown hair. He was in the dining room with you and Harper.”
“Oh, right. Now I remember.” Her brow furrowed. “I think he’s a writer of some kind. He’s researching a story. Some of our guests were complaining about his incessant questions. I kindly explained this wasn’t the appropriate time to have such discussions.”
“Research? What story?”
Mother shook her head. “Lyla Jane, I don’t know if I’m coming or going right now.” Her bottom lip quivered.
“It’s okay, Frances, dear.” Gran patted her arm reassuringly.
“Oh, Moth—” I hated to see my mother cry.
“I need to powder my nose,” she interrupted, and abruptly left the room.
“Bless her heart. She doesn’t have a strong constitution like you and me.” Gran moved closer to me and wrapped her arm around my waist, hugging me tightly. “It’s a good thing she didn’t find the body. We’ll have to help Frances through this.”
I nodded. “I agree and we will.” I kissed the top of my grandmother’s head. Gran knew as well as I that my mother and Uncle Calvin had a tragic past. Something relating to their childhood. She didn’t speak about it often, and though I’ve asked over the years for her to confide in me, Mother insisted that neither my uncle nor she desired to relive those days, especially not through my eyes. I’d respected their wishes, as had Gran. I tried not to let it bother me that she didn’t feel comfortable confiding in me.
“I can’t b-believe this is ac-actually happening.” Harper’s sobs brought me out of my reverie. I glanced up as she came around the corner and rushed straight for me. Gran moved aside, and I froze as Harper threw her arms around me.
“I’m sorry. So very sorry.” I hugged her tightly. I didn’t try to tell her everything would be okay. Nothing would be okay for a long time.
She wiped her face and moved between Gran and me. “Did he look … did he look as if he suffered?”
My gaze skidded around the room as I tried to formulate an appropriate answer. I needed to choose my words wisely, not wanting to say anything wounding. “I, uh, I don’t think so.”
Harper nodded and seemed to take some solace in my words. Though how, I hadn’t a clue. “They said he was robbed. Robbed! Someone took his watch, wallet, and wedding ring.”
“Who said that?” Gran asked.
“The police.” Harper glanced between Gran and me. “They asked me about his watch and wedding band and if he had his wallet on him.”
“My God!” Gran shook her head.
Harper took in a shuddering breath. “It’s horrifying, and they wouldn’t let me see him before t-t-taking him away.”
“It’s good that you didn’t. Leonard wouldn’t want you to see him that way.” I gave her arm a squeeze.
She dabbed her face and nodded. “I guess you’re right. It’s just that I said some awful th-things to my Leonard tonight. We had a fight, and it got nasty. And now I’ll never be able to apologize. He died with anger and pain in his heart because of me.” She gave me a slight frown as she said, “I did love him.”
We stood there, the three of us, for some time, all around us the sound of people barking orders and officials rushing here and there. Sniffles and sobs from the grieving widow. Gran murmuring condolences while I stood silently; my thoughts were in a tumult.
A large man in plainclothes, with smooth amber-brown skin and a shiny bald head filled the front doorway. He turned and spoke to an officer before moving through the room as if he owned the place. His commanding presence seemed obvious to everyone as they shrank back and parted to allow him to pass. Detective, I instantly thought. All the other police officers were in their navy-blue uniforms except for Quinn, who’d been dressed in a suit. He advanced toward us, and I noticed the gold shield clipped to his belt—definitely a detective.
“Chief Daniels,” his gravelly baritone voice called down the hallway. So low and deep that I wouldn’t be surprised if the booming tone rattled the floors beneath my feet. My head swung around to see Quinn moving toward the man with a serious expression. He didn’t seem to recognize him.
“Detective Battle?”
A clipped nod. “Crime scene?” the man asked tersely.
“One minute.” Quinn disappeared, and I wondered where he’d gone. The detective gazed around at the people, who took notice of his scrutiny. Heads were swiveling back and forth, and whispers were audible.
“Okay, you can come through.” Quinn’s voice brought me out of my contemplation.
&nb
sp; The detective’s eyes met mine as he strolled past. Sharp, intelligent eyes regarded me. Was he wondering where I fit in all of this? Everyone he came in contact with would be a suspect in the homicide. And rightfully so.
“This is a … a nightmare. Things just got so messed up.” Harper’s words pulled my attention away from where the detective had gone to view the scene. She dug through the clutch attached to her wrist, looking for a tissue. I fixated on the simple little black wristlet. Something about it eased my concerns, and I couldn’t pick out what or why. I let out a slow, controlled breath.
“I’m sure he knew you loved him,” I heard Gran say to reassure Harper.
“Of course. Everyone argues.” I tried to focus on consoling her, but my mind raced with scenarios. One thing was certain. Whatever had happened, this situation would alter her life forever.
Harper shook her head; her face looked red and blotchy. “You don’t understand. I told him I was leaving him, that I couldn’t take the life anymore. I don’t know how I can go on now.”
“It’s going to be all right, honey.” Gran patted her shoulder. “Lyla’s right. Couples argue, and some marriages don’t work out. You can’t own everything. Let’s deal with one thing at a time. Sweetie, this is a lot.”
“Right. One thing at a time.” I stared at my Gran and smiled in awe of her clarity. Those were wise words. “You’ll get through this. We’ll help you. And whoever did this will be brought to justice.”
Harper stood back and stared at us through watery eyes. “That means so much to me.” She took us both by the hand and squeezed. “I’ve felt so alone for so long.”
Gran patted her hand before Harper released ours. “Well, you’re not alone now, sugar.”
Harper wiped the tear tracks from her face, and we stood in silence for what felt like an eternity. I kept glancing back toward the restroom, hoping Mother was coping okay.
“This the widow?” the detective’s voice boomed, and both Harper and I jumped. Quinn and the detective appeared in the doorway. I bet everyone around him lived and worked on pins and needles.
“Yes. Harper Richardson.” Quinn stood to the left of the detective.
The detective nodded toward me. “And you’re the one who discovered the body?”
I opened my mouth, but Quinn answered for me. “Yes. Her name is Lyla Moody. This is her parents’ house.”
“Well, technically, Quinn.” Gran lifted her hand and waved it. “I thought I saw someone in there first. I didn’t know who it was, though. My eyesight isn’t the greatest. Then Lyla here went in to see if she could help the poor man. God rest his soul.”
“You two stay put,” Detective Battle said to Gran and Harper before pointing to me. “And you come with me.”
“Okay.” I followed the large man back into the kitchen. He dug a pair of blue booties out of a box on the island and handed me a pair. “I’m going to need you to put these on and walk me through it. Step by step. You understand?”
“Yes, I do,” I said numbly. Everyone in this room wore the blue shoe coverings and thin disposable Tyvek suits to prevent contamination of the scene. I dutifully slipped the booties over my shoes and followed him into the little hallway to the library, now cordoned off with crime scene tape. Seeing the outline where Leonard Richardson’s body had been had my head spinning a little, and I braced my hand on the wall.
“You need a sip of water or something first?”
“No.” This couldn’t be over fast enough. I stood up and slowly walked into the room. I described, in as much detail as I could recall, what I saw and how Gran had behaved, pointing to the melted truffles on the floor. I left nothing out. “After I instructed a caterer to dial nine-one-one, I sent Gran to go alert Quinn.”
“Chief Daniels and your father?”
I nodded. “That’s when I walked in here to see if”—I swallowed—“Leonard was still alive. I stumbled back when I s-saw he was, um, deceased, and slid down that fireplace there.” I pointed.
“Did you touch the body?”
“Yes.” I met his gaze directly. “I checked for a pulse.”
“Nothing else?”
I shook my head.
“Can you describe the body?”
I stared at him for another moment and took another deep breath.
The detective put a hand on my shoulder and bent to peer into my face. Not many men I came in contact with towered that much over me. “I understand this is difficult,” he began softly, “but it’s imperative for me to know exactly how you found the body.”
The body. Slowly I forced my head to bob. “Okay.” I swallowed again and turned back toward where Leonard Richardson had been, clearing my throat. “He was on his back, with his arm slung over the left side of his face. His arm was scratched here.” I pointed to my own arm, to show where his watch was missing. “I noticed because a stream of blood trailed down onto his face.” I took in a shaky breath. “His jacket was torn, and he had something in his hand.” I felt my brows draw together as I struggled with how to describe it. “A rope or maybe a hoodie strap. I’m not sure. But I am positive he had it gripped in his hand. And the candlestick was there.” I pointed to a spot on the floor. “The base was covered in blood.”
His eyes sharpened. “Candlestick?”
I nodded slowly. “Yes. It matched this one.” I pointed to the one on the mahogany mantle above the fireplace.
“You’re positive you saw a candlestick?”
Was I? Yes. “I’m absolutely positive. My boot hit against the heavy brass as I kneeled next to the body.
“Thank you, Miss Moody. I’ll need you to hang around a bit longer. We’ll need to speak again.”
“Oh. okay.”
Chapter Four
I left the room in a hurry, with the detective right behind me. I could almost feel his energy. Strong. Eager. Alert. I forced myself not to glance back at him. Harper and Gran stared in my direction when they noticed me returning. He had quick quiet words with Quinn, and neither of the men looked happy. An ominous feeling took up residence in my midsection.
“Mrs. Richardson,” Detective Battle said softly when he and Quinn concluded their dialog, and I felt better about him showing kindness to her. At least he was treating her with respect, as the grieving widow. “If you wouldn’t mind coming with me, please.”
Harper glanced from me to Gran. We both nodded in encouragement for her to go. She’d have to do this on her own. There was no way they’d let us accompany her, not being related to her in any way. In fact, I’m not sure they’d let us even if we were part of her family.
As Harper followed the detective out of the room, the weight of the situation overtook me. Fully aware of the heinous crime committed here and how I hoped they’d find the culprit swiftly. Gran moved closer to me and whispered, “How’d it go?”
“Fine. The detective just wanted me to recount what I saw.” I didn’t feel like going into it all.
“I wonder why they don’t haul us all down to the police station to question us, like in the movies? Any one of us could have killed that man.” Gran wasn’t a fool. Although she hadn’t seen the condition of the body, nor had I described it to her in detail, what she had witnessed had been enough.
“Technically, that isn’t accurate. Neither you nor I were here when Mr. Richardson was attacked.”
“Everyone else was. Even James will be suspected.” Gran looked worried about that.
“Daddy will be questioned, but I doubt the police will seriously suspect him. I do find it surprising that the catering staff didn’t see anything before we arrived.”
“Yeah, that is odd. I bet one of them did it.”
“Shh.” I shook my head. “Let’s not start throwing blame around.” I didn’t want us to be overheard and rumors to begin to spread.
“Well, I can’t help wonderin’. And I bet they’ll drag to the police station whoever they narrow down as suspects.” Gran moved aside to allow a woman and her husband to pass by us. She
was really obsessed with the idea of people being forced down to the police station.
I pursed my lips. “Maybe. For now, I just think it’s probably easier to speak to us all here to start with. Even with the blatant foul play, it’s standard procedure to speak to the witnesses right away. The first forty-eight hours are crucial to any investigation. People have a tendency to forget valuable pieces of information as time passes.”
Gran nodded, gazing around. “Wow. You’ve learned a lot working for Calvin.”
She was right: I had. I’d gleaned a wealth of information regarding police procedures and the law. I’d also learned that what made Uncle Calvin and me different was that at Cousins Investigative Services, we weren’t constrained by some of the legalities imposed on law enforcement.”
“So, let’s see. One of these people is probably the killer.” Gran narrowed her eyes and scoped out the people in view.
I rubbed my forehead. “The probability is high that the culprit was in attendance at some point during the evening. Probably fled the scene shortly after the attack. With blood spatter like I saw, it would be impossible to keep your clothes clean. And the scene certainly didn’t appear to be premeditated. Or the killer is here and managed to sneak out and change clothes, then returned to the event so as to not be suspected. That’s what I’d do.”
“Hmm. Yeah, that’d be smart. I’d do that too. See that woman there?” Gran pointed down the hallway, to a short, stocky woman with wispy snow-white hair coiled at the top of her head, who was whispering to a much younger brunette. They both looked to be in a bit of shock. Pale and unsure of where to look.
I covered her finger with my hand and pushed it back onto her lap. “Don’t point at Leonard’s family.”
“Yeah, we don’t want to tip them off that they’re suspects.” Gran turned to the side. “Isn’t it weird that Edna, the sister-in-law of Leonard’s first wife, still lives with him?”
“Yeah, I know it isn’t the norm. I’ve seen Edna around town on occasion, but I’ve never seen Leonard’s daughter up close.” I felt awful for the grieving Richardson family.