by Jack Parker
CHAPTER 66
Friday
Clay Wilson let himself into the house. He'd worked late going over the latest changes to the new building his company was designing and was looking forward to a quiet night at home relaxing with his new bride. Better to stay late on a Friday than to have to go in on Saturday, he thought. He knew Clarissa wouldn't fuss either way, but he preferred to have an uninterrupted weekend in her company. He also knew that a part of why she'd divorced her first husband was that he worked too much. No one ever arrived at the Pearly Gates and lamented that they hadn't spent enough time at the office!
Clay shook his head upon hearing the loud music coming from Gracie's room. Well, at least he'd be at home, even if it wasn't quiet. He loved his new stepdaughter, but reflected that it would be nice when he and Clarissa had the house to themselves. He could even stand to wait a few years before hearing the pitter-patter of grandkids' feet, and hoped his own daughter Candy would comply; he wasn't worried about Gracie in that regard even though she'd been dating Kelly for well over a year now.
But when he walked into the living room he knew his evening wouldn't be quiet in any sense of the word, nor would it be relaxing. Clarissa was standing in the middle of the room, her arms tight around Gracie who was sobbing her heart out. Kelly's car was in the drive, so surely they hadn't broken up. He stood still and listened before he butted in without knowing the problem.
"Oh, Gracie, honey Ken doesn't really think you killed that woman," Clarissa said. She stroked her daughter's hair and let her cry.
Gracie sniffled, and then broke into tears once more. "All those questions! It was like the third degree. Now I know how innocent people feel when the police question them."
"Sweetie, he had to ask those questions; it's his job to find out everything he can. It doesn't mean he thinks you did it, but after all you were there the evening before that woman died. It would've given you the opportunity to slip something into her coffee," Clarissa pointed out.
Gracie sniffled again and calmed down a little. "He did seem to make a big deal about that," she said.
Clay edged out of the room and headed toward Gracie's room. Kelly opened the door at Clay's knock, looking surprised to see him there.
"Kelly, do you know what Gracie's gotten mixed up in this time?" Clay asked, his voice too sharp with concern.
Kelly shrugged. "All I know is Mrs. Rodgers' aunt died last night and Ken came over to talk to Gracie about it. We stayed in here." He gestured vaguely at the room where Shawna and Cheryl were sprawled on Gracie's purple beanbags.
"Mrs. Rodgers?" Clay's face was blank.
"Oh, her math teacher," Kelly clarified. "Her brother died several months ago and there was some big family meeting at the widow's house last night and she asked Gracie to go with her."
Clay nodded, though he wasn't sure he quite understood. Then the gravity of the situation dawned on him. "And the widow turned up dead today?" he asked.
"Yep," Kelly replied.
Shawna unwound from the beanbag and came to stand behind Kelly. "Why?" she asked. "What's going on?"
"I'm not entirely sure," Clay told her. "Gracie's crying and Clarissa's trying to comfort her, but she's really upset about something."
"Cheryl!" Shawna gestured emphatically to her friend, then pushed past Kelly and Clay and started down the hall at a run. Cheryl jumped up to follow Shawna, leaving the guys staring at each other helplessly.
"Excuse me, Clay. Gracie needs me," Kelly said.
They followed the girls down the hall to the living room to see that Shawna and Cheryl were now hugging both Gracie and Clarissa.
"I didn't do it!" Gracie wailed, then subsided into more tears.
Clay stood there uncertainly, wanting to help but not entirely sure what he could do, or even how he could insert himself into the group. Kelly walked up behind Gracie, laying his hand gently on her upper back which was the only spot not already covered by hands and arms.
"Gracie," he said gently, "We know that. There is not one question in our minds that you might have hurt the widow. I'm going to go make us some hot chocolate while you cry this out, and then we'll all sit down and talk about it." He looked up over Gracie's shuddering shoulder to see Clarissa give him a nod of approval.
Clay patted Gracie's arm before following Kelly to the kitchen. As they began to gather the ingredients he asked, "Are you sure you don't know anything else, Kelly?"
"No, Sir, I swear I don't," Kelly replied. "I'm guessing that Ken must've acted like Gracie was a suspect – which means that he considers it murder."
Clay paused in the middle of pouring milk into a saucepan. "Or at least a suspicious death. Do you know anything about that meeting last night?" He tipped the carton to continue pouring.
"There was some kind of court hearing today and the family wanted to talk about it. I gathered that Mrs. Rodgers doesn't get along with the widow very well. Oh, and Gracie did tell us that the hearing went well for her today."
"You didn't go with her?" Clay asked.
"No, Sir," Kelly said. "I was at Chris' house when Gracie called to tell me Mrs. Rodgers had asked her to go and I guess time got away from both of us because I didn't hear anything more until I saw Gracie this morning."
"Sounds like Gracie's gotten herself in a bad spot, and she'll need our support until it gets resolved. I just hope the girls have gotten her calmed down before we get back; I don't know about you, but I hate the water-works."
Kelly grinned. "Know what you mean. I know the theory is to let them cry themselves out, but I feel so darn helpless while they do it."
"And there's no room for us to hug her, which is the only thing we could do," Clay replied with an ironic smile.
A few minutes later Clay and Kelly carried in a tray loaded with hot chocolate and mugs and a plate of Graham crackers, that being the only munchie they could locate at short notice. Gracie was sitting on the couch wiping her face with a damp cloth. Her mother sat next to her, an arm around her shoulders, while Shawna and Cheryl had both squeezed into a large chair opposite them.
Gracie took a deep breath and let it out with a hitch. She looked up as they set the tray on the coffee table and smiled weakly. "Thanks," she said.
Shawna wiggled out of the shared chair and poured a cup of cocoa for Gracie. Gracie let out a short laugh. "A cupful of hot beverage might well have been the murder weapon last night. Upon seeing Kelly's wounded look she continued. "I'm sorry, that wasn't really funny, was it?"
"Why don't you start from the beginning and tell us what you know," Clarissa suggested. "We all know bits and pieces, so let's hold any questions until we're all on the same page."
Gracie took a sip of her chocolate and sighed again. "Okay, here goes. I was at the mall with Shawna and Cheryl yesterday afternoon when Mrs. Rodgers called to ask me to go to the family meeting with her. Mrs. Rodgers is my math teacher at school."
Heads nodded in understanding, though they all knew this much.
"She told me I was a smart girl and maybe I could pick up on something she hadn't seen."
"I like her already!" Clarissa declared, then looked abashed at having interrupted.
"We talked when I got to her house," Gracie continued. "Um, let me see if I can hit the highlights. Her parents died when she was little and her much-older brother John Redmond raised her. He died last spring and the Estate is in a mess. The widow – that's Roberta Redmond by the way, though she goes by Robbie – said she couldn't find the original Will so instead of Robbie getting two-thirds of the money and Meredith one-third, it's a fifty-fifty split now."
"That wouldn't make Robbie happy," Clay put in quietly.
"But John Redmond also left a Trust with Robbie as the beneficiary. Only it might not have been set up right and could be part of the Estate instead, and now both sides are fighting John's Trustee to get the money into the Estate. Meredith, uh Mrs. Rodgers, says it's a half a million dollars."
Kelly whistled. "Worth fighting over," he
remarked.
"I know it sounds like Meredith had the most motive, but she says Robbie's got a shopping addiction and would rather have half the money now instead of waiting. Um, I'm sorry, I forgot to say that the money's coming from mortgage payments so it's not a lump sum. And John probably told his Trustee not to give her very much money at a time."
Clarissa patted Gracie's shoulder. "You're doing fine, Sweetheart."
"Now, Robbie has five grown children. Charlie Stubblefield, Loretta Logan, and Jason Wheeler are her biological children; Ashley Kamp is a step-child of her second marriage and, um, there's another sister but I can't remember her name and she wasn't there last night. Jason's a lot younger than the others. The two sons apparently always need money and Loretta, who claims to be a millionaire, acts like she's on Meredith's side, but we think she's spying for Robbie."
"Nice lady," Cheryl commented.
"Robbie was an old woman," Gracie went on. "I don't think she treated her kids very well; in fact, Loretta claims she beat her when she was little, but it sounds more like she's being melodramatic. The sons could use the money and both daughters claim not to like her very much. The point being that they all could have some motive for killing her. Or at least be comforted by money or revenge upon her death."
"To make matters worse, Meredith was not close to her brother before he died. From what she says, and I know I have only her word, he wanted everything his way and she couldn't take it anymore. I can certainly vouch that there was no love lost between her and Robbie and Robbie's kids. They wouldn't even let her look at the urn of her brother's ashes! They'd sold most of his things without telling her. Meredith was thrilled just to get a couple of grocery bags full of her brother's things."
Gracie was getting a bit too worked-up over these issues so Clarissa tried to steer her back on track. "Why was Ken asking about the coffee?"
"Oh, yeah," Gracie said. "Loretta tried to smooth things over by offering to re-fill Robbie's coffee cup and get us one, too. I went with her to help, and she poured liquor into Robbie's cup. I topped it up with coffee and she handed it to Robbie herself. Later she brought Robbie another cup. I wasn't in the kitchen when she poured it. I'm guessing that Ken thinks there was poison in that cup."
"Or poison somewhere," Clay remarked. "Sorry, we do keep interrupting."
"That's okay, that's about all I know. I ended up kinda running the meeting because nobody else seemed to know what to say. I convinced them to just wait and see what happened at the hearing, and talk to their lawyers if things didn't go their way. I didn't see why they needed a meeting. Oh yeah, Robbie had a cold; she sneezed a lot. Meredith and I left and of course I don't know what happened after that." Gracie picked up a Graham cracker and began to munch.
"Lieutenant Freeman asked what I would consider the usual questions when he came to see Gracie this evening," Clarissa picked up the story from there. "He did seem uncomfortable having to talk to Gracie this way, he acted very formal. He asked how she knew Mrs. Rodgers and why she'd asked Gracie to attend, whether Gracie knew any of the others, how everyone acted toward each other. He seemed to jump on the pouring of the coffee when Gracie mentioned it, so that does seem to indicate there was some kind of poison involved. The only thing he said was that he wasn't convinced that Mrs. Redmond died a natural death, and that everyone at her house last night is considered a suspect."
"Even Gracie?" Shawna squeaked.
"He has to say that, even if he doesn't really mean it," Kelly declared. "He can't show any favoritism because Gracie's his friend."
"I'd be a little surprised if he doesn't turn the case over to another detective," Clay mused. "My guess is that he would if he really had the least suspicion that she might be guilty. Gracie, I'd suggest that you don't bother calling him about this case; make it easier on him to stay above suspicion."
Gracie nodded thoughtfully. "I understand. He knows I didn't do it, but until he can prove who killed her he can't be friends with me. It means I won't be getting inside information on this one."
"Gracie, are you sure you want to investigate this one?" Kelly asked.
"Are you kidding? Of course she does!" Shawna said firmly. "Not only does she want to, she has to; the police consider her a suspect, no matter how casually."
"She was at the scene of the murder," Cheryl put in. "Well, maybe yes and maybe no, but if the woman was poisoned then it's very likely that one of the people there gave the poison to her."
"They could've done it after I left, or someone could've come by later," Gracie said.
"If Ken knows anyone went to her house after the meeting, then why would he consider everyone there a suspect?" Shawna asked reasonably.
"Because he doesn't know when the poison was administered," Gracie replied. "He probably doesn't even know for sure it was poison yet, much less what kind."
"What difference does that make?" Shawna inquired.
"Depends on how long it would take to kill her," Cheryl replied matter-of-factly. "Until he knows what it was he can't know if it was something someone gave her a week ago, or five seconds before she died."
"Hmmm," Gracie murmured. "Meredith said Robbie was found dead in her bed. If it was a slow-acting poison that doesn't help; but if it killed her real quickly she'd have had to have taken it at least right before going to bed. And surely she wouldn't have drunk – or eaten – anything from a stranger."
"Oh, I don't know," Cheryl said. "What if she's a choc-a-holic and some not-so-kindly stranger gave her a box of poisoned candy. I'd probably eat it as soon as they left, maybe even nosh on it in bed."
"Ooh," Shawna gave a little shiver. "How awful would it be for someone to hand her the poisoned candy after tucking her into bed?"
"Which means it would have to be someone she knew and trusted," Kelly pointed out.
Gracie shook her head. "That would be a pretty cold-hearted thing to do. Next I suppose you'll suggest the murderer stood there and watched while she died?"
"Didn't you say the one daughter claimed Robbie had beaten her when she was a child?" Clay asked.
"Uh-huh," Gracie agreed. "Something about having a broken arm that she can't explain, so she thinks Robbie must've given it to her."
"Well if someone had beaten me, I might well decide to return the favor, with interest," Cheryl said.
Everyone's head came up in surprise at her statement. She winced. "Not really, but I can understand how someone might feel that way. For my money she's the best suspect. She gets her revenge and the money, too."
"Except that she's already got money," Kelly reminded her. "Besides, why wait until now? Why not do her in years ago?"
"It can take a long time for something like that to eat away at you until you're ready to commit murder," Clarissa said. "And this would be a perfect opportunity; lots of other suspects and the police will think it's about the money."
"If Loretta really is being two-faced, it'd be a great way to make it look like Mrs. Rodgers was the murderer. The family thought she hadn't seen her brother in a few years, and suddenly she comes to the house at Loretta's invitation. There's a big battle going on over the Estate and Robbie won't even give her any of her brother's personal possessions. I hate to say it, but it would make a good frame," Gracie said.
"What about her brothers?" Clarissa asked.
From what Meredith says, money would be their motivation," Gracie replied. "Charlie and Loretta are siblings, so if Robbie really did abuse Loretta she might've done the same to Charlie. So in his case he's got a double motive. But it's hard to imagine that she'd harm Jason because he seems to be the favorite, or that he'd be willing to kill her just for her money. Besides, neither of them knew Meredith would be there last night."
"And the step-daughter?" Clay inquired.
Gracie shrugged. "Supposedly she doesn't spend much time with the family, though that doesn't mean she didn't do it. Like Mom said, maybe something just ate at her until she decided to end it. Her sister – darn, I can't remember h
er name! – moved far, far away years ago and no one's heard from her since so you'd think she solved the problem that way."
"Didn't you say the old woman was in bad health?" Cheryl asked.
"No," Gracie replied. "She just had a bad cold."
Cheryl gave a theatrical shrug. "That explains it, then! One of the four of them was just waiting for a good time to slip her the poison. Last night was it. They'd brought it with them just in case and gave it to her. Not only was the whole family there, Mrs. Rodgers had shown up and she'd be the most likely suspect. I bet Ken thinks so, too. With Robbie's cold she would be less likely to be able to smell or taste anything funny, and certainly wouldn't expect her kids to poison her."
"I've just got to find out what kind of poison it was!" Gracie declared.
CHAPTER 67
Saturday
Saturday morning instead of lounging around the house Ken was hard at work at police headquarters. He was going through the forensic accountant's report on the financial positions of all the suspects. He picked up the sheet pertaining to Gracie, and winced at having to even consider her as a suspect. He knew the details of her father's murder – he'd been the investigating officer! He knew she'd gotten a Trust fund along with her two brothers, but what he didn't know was how much money had been in it. Gracie certainly didn't need money, neatly eliminating that as a motive. Both she and Robbie's children all agreed they'd never met before, so there was no possible grudge to be held. Another detective might consider the possibility that Ms. Rodgers, Gracie's mathematics teacher, might have put her up to it but he couldn't make himself believe Gracie would kill anyone.
He put that sheet aside with a heavy sigh. He couldn't in all good conscience eliminate Gracie just on his personal feelings, and if he found any corroborating evidence against her he'd have to take himself off the case immediately. But for now he intended to concentrate on the other four suspects and their spouses. It didn't have to be one of them; someone else could easily have given the old lady the nuts, but that would be harder to figure out. He'd consider outsiders after he looked at the family. Uniformed officers were going through Mrs. Redmond's house with a fine-tooth comb as well as talking to her neighbors; they'd let him know if they found anything suspicious like, say, a delivery card from a box of candy.
