Sally answered into the receiver, cupped to her ear, “It doesn’t matter.”
“Well,” Sheriff Woods said, “I’ll probably agree, but tell me anyway.”
“Tell you what?” Sally asked, coming fully to her senses.
“I can’t remember and it is slowly driving me crazy. You know I’m happily married. As happy as I assume I should be. This is not a ploy.”
She could hear him take a deep breath. “You want to know why we broke up.”
“Exactly. Do you know the chapter and verse?”
“I do. You were in a funk about Tony. Angry at all women for his suicide.” Sally stopped. “Are you sure you want to go over this?”
“It is gnawing at me. I probably acted like a dim-witted fool. Please, just tell me what I did.”
“Nothing horrible. I was shy and couldn’t tell you about a physical complication.”
“What?”
“You demanded intercourse with me. We were not even engaged. I told you no. So, you said not to call you until I was ready. I think your exact words were, ‘to give it up.’ I thought I would never see you again. I’d enrolled in an English night course at Elgin’s Community College. One of the teachers hit a nerve when he said most of the people attending were not interested in learning, they were looking for mates because they didn’t connect to anyone in highschool. I’d already spent six lonely months and I remember thinking the virginity stuff wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. So, I called you.” Sally brushed her white hair away from her eyes.
“What did I do?”
“Well after I called you to make the date, my period arrived. Thank the Lord. I thought we would date for a while before you demanded more again. And I missed you. I think I really did love you at the time. Anyway, we went to a movie, or something, before you made your move, as we used to call it. I told you no. But I couldn’t tell you why I needed to delay. I was too embarrassed. We weren’t as open back then as teenagers are now. You called me a tease and took me home in silence. I never called you again.”
Sheriff Woods said, “I was so stupid. Will you accept an apology, at this late date?”
“We were very young. I forgave you years ago. Do you remember any of the scenes, now?”
“The truth is I don’t. The last thing I remember is sitting with you in the Log Cabin restaurant and getting incredibly angry at a waitress.”
Someone was knocking on the hotel’s door. “Art, I mean Sheriff Woods, someone is at the door.”
“Good-bye, Sally. And, thanks. Tim and I will be over about four.”
Betty and James Nelson invited themselves in. “We have good news for you,” bald James said.
Ginger stayed glued to Sally’s heels, following her around the room. The dog didn’t notice James’ physical resemblance to his former master.
“True.” Betty sat down in the small dining room, placing her purse on her lap. Her white hair sparkled from the light over the table.
“John did change his will,” James explained. “The house, stock holdings, share of the hotel and savings accounts are all yours.”
“Oh, he complicated everything, didn’t he? Betty, should I ring for room service? Would you like a cup of coffee, or tea?”
Betty shook her head. “I’m happy for you.”
“What is the name of the lawyer?”
“Silas Pike,” James said.
“I’ll call him to arrange a Quick Claim Deed to turn over the house and the hotel to you,” Sally looked directly at Betty. “I’m sure John would understand.”
James said. “John wanted you to live in the house.”
Sally tried to explain. “If I grew old with John, as we planned to, this would make sense. However, after this case is solved, I intend to return home to my condominium in Ann Arbor. You understand, don’t you, Betty?”
“James is right,” Betty placed her purse on the floor and cozied up to the table. “You are being very generous.”
“You’re welcome. It’s fun to play lady bountiful. But really, I’m sure John would approve. Now how about tea? Sheriff Woods and Tim should be here directly. We’re going out to the Montgomerys’ to ask a slew of questions.”
“I could use a drink,” Betty said.
“Not in this room,” James said, sounding exactly like John for a second.
Sally called room service for tea. “Five people, three of whom are men. In other words, bring enough for eight. And a carafe of coffee, too. You don’t keep dog biscuits, do you.”
Ginger wagged her tail at the word biscuit.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
After Tim and Sheriff Woods consumed every morsel of food Sally provided at the hotel, they drove her to Wayne. Sally appropriated the back seat, hoping to prime the two police officers with enough unanswered questions to make the trip a decisive, perhaps final, visit. “We need to know why Peter is lying.”
“Tim is quitting the force,” Sheriff Woods said.
“Why is that?” Sally hoped to turn the conversation back to the case as quickly as possible.
“My reputation,” Tim said, in a tone implying Sally already knew the answer.
“A little humility will patch up your honor in no time.” Sally prayed she sounded encouraging, not just impatient. “Would you like a dog to keep you company? Ginger seemed to switch loyalties as soon as you entered the hotel room.”
“He’s interested in returning to Ann Arbor with you.” Sheriff Woods kept his eyes on the winter road ahead of them.
“To work for you.” Tim turned around to face Sally. “I like Ginger. I guess a dog would give me someone to take care of.”
“I’d be glad for you to join the Tedler detective agency. I miss Ann Arbor. I made a few friends I hope don’t forget me. I’m not really a dog person though. Walking Ginger at five degrees below zero in the early morning doesn’t sound appealing to me.
“I could write you a recommendation for the police department,” Sheriff Woods said.
“But Tim,” Sally said. “I think you should spend some time evaluating your future,” She tried not to lecture. “Will you succumb to …”
“Temptation?” Tim finished for her.
“I don’t mean just women.” Sally wanted to state the job’s requirements for integrity clearly. “Tim, I met you when you were two years old, but I don’t know what your priorities are.”
“Not money.” Tim turned in the front seat to smile at Sally.
“Okay, good. But spiritually, Tim? What is your relationship with the Lord, as you understand Him?”
“I’m thankful to own the will power to stop seeing Matilda.”
“I believe I’m powerless.” Sally waited for the shift in attitude to sink in, before she added, “I’m only speaking for myself, but I turned my will over to my Higher Power. I don’t know how I could exist as a sober, ethical person without my conscious contact with God.”
“You mean, He talks to you?” Sheriff Woods slowed the car to a crawl.
“No. I mean I ask His help to do His will.”
“How do you know what it is?” Tim asked.
“I’m never sure, but I ask, daily, for help to trust Him more.”
“I could.” Tim faced the road ahead. “I’m looking forward to claiming Ginger.”
“Can’t ask more of the boy,” Sheriff Woods said.
Sally laughed. “I’m sure I’ll be asking a great deal of Detective Tim Hanson.”
As they turned west on Territorial Road, Sally was startled to see the sun so low in the sky. She struggled to uncover her watch from the sleeve of her alpaca coat. “What time is it?”
“Nearly four,” Tim said.
“Shouldn’t the days be getting longer?”
“Not yet, Sally,” Sheriff Woods said. “It is only the tenth of January.”
“A lot has happened, since the first.” Tim’s tone was sympathetic.
Sally admitted her world completely changed in those five days. John was killed on the fifth. She va
guely recalled the memorial service in the Hotel Baker. “Was I given any sedatives?”
“Why do you ask?” Sheriff Woods slowed the car again.
“The grieving process jumbled memories of Jill’s wedding reception with the going’s on at John’s affair. I complained about the dress I was wearing, didn’t I?”
“We understood.” Tim and Sheriff Woods commented in unison.
Sally felt a warm touch on her cheek bone, where John usually gave her a peck when he was leaving. “I’m okay,” she said to John and the police officers in the front seat.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
They drove by the Masters’ home, where a bevy of new two-by-fours rose above the ruins of the arsoned home. “I thought they would wait for spring,” Sheriff Woods said.
“Money,” Tim said, “With enough money, the earth would spin counter-clockwise.”
“No,” Sally said. “It wouldn’t. But money can pay enough wages for workers to get frostbite.”
“She doesn’t approve,” Sheriff Woods kidded.
“I used to get beat up in grade school,” Sally said. “I was always the do-gooder. The kids would pound me right to the ground for not keeping my mouth shut.”
Tim struggled with his seat belt to face Sally. “I’m glad you talked to me.”
Sally smiled at him. “Before we pull into the Montgomerys’ drive, let’s go over the case.”
“Peter’s lying,” Tim said.
“Why did Peter think his wife needed a lawyer?” Sheriff Woods asked.
“And who rang Peter’s cell phone, when he was at the police station?” Sally asked.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Montgomery Home in Wayne
Sally counted six people in the Montgomery living room. Peter and Geraldine Masters were seated across from the couch where their daughter, Matilda, and Reverend Rosemary Warner sat. After hanging the officers’ and Sally’s coats in the entranceway, Carolyn and Anthony Montgomery brought extra chairs into the living room. Sally wondered why no one arranged for a lawyer to be present.
“Is your wife’s lawyer coming?” Sheriff Woods asked, as he stood with his back to the fireplace. He motioned for Tim and Sally to sit in the green wingback chairs on either side of the fire. The twin orange cats assumed their positions on Tim and Sally’s laps.
“We intend to cooperate,” Peter Masters answered.
Matilda turned toward Tim. “I want to apologize, publicly.”
Sally concluded Reverend Warner had enacted a miracle. “How long have you known the Montgomerys?” she asked the minister.
“Since they lost their son,” Rev. Warner said.
Sally reminded herself she was sitting in a house purchased with funds obtained by fraud. “You know Tony committed suicide?”
“Yes,” Rev. Warner said. “A real loss.”
Sally looked at Sheriff Woods who glared at her. ‘Police discretion,’ Sally’s mind repeated a phrase from a justice system course she took in college. Sheriff Woods would not prosecute the Montgomerys for using Tony’s insurance, even if he believed a crime was committed. Nothing would bring Tony back from the grave, or John Nelson for that matter.
Rev. Warner asked Sally, “How are you holding up?”
“With the Lord’s help.” Sally hoped she didn’t answer too quickly. She didn’t mean to imply she took God’s grace and her renewal of strength lightly. So she repeated. “His real support.”
Rev. Warner nodded her head in understanding.
Sheriff Woods asked again. “Mr. Masters, why did you think your wife was involved in Enid Krimm’s death?”
Matilda answered. “We’re going to tell you everything.”
Carolyn Montgomery placed an extra chair next to Peter’s side of the couch. Carolyn nodded and then smiled at Peter.
Matilda continued, “I had been asking Mother repeatedly for a picture of my grandfather. But because the house burned down, I told her at breakfast I wouldn’t be bugging her for the picture anymore.”
Geraldine Masters looked at her husband. “Peter thought Matilda asked me for his picture.”
“Then they called me,” Reverend Warner interrupted to explain. “This morning.”
Peter acted as if he was going to stand, but changed his mind and sank even lower in the upholstered couch. “I gave the picture I thought they meant to Carolyn.”
Officer Tim Hanson leaned forward as if he needed to be closer to hear correctly.
So, Peter repeated the information, “I gave a picture of myself I thought my daughter wanted to Carolyn.”
“Because?” Sheriff Woods asked. Sally thought he should have guessed the answer.
“Carolyn and my husband are involved in an affair,” Geraldine said. “Whenever he decided to pound on me enough to make me escape to my mother’s in Colorado, sweet Carolyn here would come over and commensurate with him, physically.”
Carolyn’s husband coughed, trying to conceal his misery.
“Did you wait for Reverend Warner’s arrival?” Sally asked. “Before you revealed your infidelities?”
“Yes,” Carolyn and Peter said.
“I advised them to forgive each other.” Rev Warner clutched her hands in her lap, as if she realized the extent of her religious help.
Sally thought forgiveness would be a tall order for Geraldine Masters and Anthony Montgomery, at least for the immediate future.
“I’m not leaving my husband,” Carolyn said, in a plea for the assembled to condone her actions.
Mr. Montgomery stood. “Sheriff Woods, are there any questions you need to ask of me?”
“No. You’re free to go.”
Mr. Montgomery walked toward the hall leading to the bedrooms. He returned shortly. “Carolyn, I hated every moment we lived here.” He started to cough again, trying not to weep in public. “The house was built on Tony’s tortured bones. I’m leaving you to your own crazy devices.”
Carolyn refused to turn in her husband’s direction. Perhaps, she hoped her guests would assign less credence to the damaging words. She focused her attention on Rev. Warner, hoping for some miraculous wisdom to negate her husband’s insults, a reprieve from the consequences of her actions.
The minister rose and followed Mr. Montgomery out of the room. They retired in the direction of the bedrooms. Everyone in the living room could hear Mr. Montgomery’s mumbled but continuing distress.
Sally brought them back to another distressing topic. “Peter, you thought you recognized your wife leaving your house, before the flames started.” Peter nodded his head.
Carolyn reached for his hand, but he pulled away from her.
“I love my wife,” he said directly to Geraldine.
“Not enough,” Geraldine said. She crossed over to Matilda’s side of the room, sitting in Rev. Warner’s vacated position.
Carolyn said, “Peter, that was me returning from the house.”
“Did you talk to Enid Krimm?” Tim asked her.
“I didn’t know anyone was in the house,” Carolyn said. “The taxi left, so I walked over to wait for Peter.”
“What changed your mind?” Sally asked.
“When I left by my back door, I noticed a car parked down the Montgomery’s lane. I couldn’t see the car from inside the house because Peter’s blocks my view of part of his drive. Anyway, I walked across the field trying to identify the car, but I didn’t even knock on the door.” She smiled nervously at Peter. “Peter might have seen me walking back across the field to my home.”
Peter turned away.
Carolyn sighed. “When I got home, I looked back when I heard a car coming down Territorial Road. Then I became aware of Peter’s house. The flames were shooting higher than the roof!” She gestured to show the extent of the blaze, but no one reacted. “It couldn’t have taken me ten minutes to cross the field. The horses were acting weird. Running in circles. I didn’t know at first that they were panicking from the fire.”
“Peter?” Sally asked. “Why did y
ou tell us you returned from Dallas?”
“When I first told Matilda and the rest of you about the fire at the castle, I thought Geraldine was dead. I tried to cover up my meeting with Carolyn New Year’s Eve by saying I returned from Dallas.” Peter looked at his wife. “On New Year’s Eve, Geraldine told me she was divorcing me for abuse.”
Rev. Warner walked with Mr. Montgomery past the living room to the front door. He carried two suitcases. Rev. Warner returned to the group without Carolyn’s husband. Then, she sat down next to Peter Masters. “I’m afraid he’s left you, Carolyn.”
“He’ll be back,” Carolyn said.
“I don’t think so. He said he’ll arrange for movers to pick up the rest of his belongings.”
Sally thought Mr. Montgomery was well out of the place which fraud built and deceit entered. “How long have each of you known J. K. Reeves and Enid Krimm?
Matilda looked at her mother. “Mother recommended Reeves to Bret.”
“Peter wasn’t home enough to need a butler,” Geraldine said. “I thought Bret was such a nice boy.” She turned to face Sally. “Sorry for your loss.”
Sally lost focus. Mentioning John’s murder caused her to evaluate her clothing. The dark green jacket over her black turtleneck sweater and black slacks could pass for mourning clothes. ‘No one would notice on a galloping Palomino,’ was Danny Bianco’s favorite saying, whenever she asked him how she looked.
Carolyn was dressed in festive white wool slacks and matching sweater. Geraldine wore a dark maroon dress. Sally couldn’t shake her mind’s retreat from her task. Instead her concentration seemed fixated on clothing, a safer subject. Matilda wore a short blue skirt of what looked like a suede material. She constantly tugged at the hem to draw attention to her fabulous legs. Tim seemed immune to the ploy. Matilda’s blouse was silk and lacey, but too tight for Sally’s taste.
“Do you remember who recommended Reeves to you, Mrs. Masters?” Sheriff Woods rescued the inquiry, while Sally gathered her wits.
“Enid’s mother,” Geraldine said. “What was her name?”
“Kathy,” Peter said.
“Were you involved with her, too,” Matilda asked.
Rohn Federbush - Sally Bianco 02 - The Appropriate Way Page 15
