He picked one out of the pile and opened the cover. “I can’t believe you kept these things.”
“Why wouldn’t I? We worked really hard that summer. I know it’s mostly kid stuff, but we actually uncovered some interesting details. For instance, do you remember that Orson Lee Finch once worked down the street from Berdeaux Place?”
“As I recall, he worked for a number of families that resided in the Historic District. He was a well-regarded gardener at one time.”
“Yes, but I somehow let all that slip my mind. Deliberately so, perhaps. Grandmother even hired him a few times to do some of the heavy chores that her aging gardener couldn’t manage. I vaguely remember Finch. He was a short, thin man with kind eyes and a sweet smile. He once gave me a stick of gum.”
“Ted Bundy was a real charmer, too,” Reid said as he rifled through a few pages of the notebook. “What’s your point?”
“I’m just pointing out that he had ample opportunity to acquaint himself with my mother’s circumstances and habits. He had ample opportunity to watch me, too. But then so did a lot of other people. And who’s to say the real killer didn’t have occasion to observe Finch’s circumstances and habits and determine he’d make a good patsy?”
“‘The real killer’? ‘A patsy’?” Reid gave her a skeptical look.
“If we’re working from our old theory that Finch was framed.” She reached over and plucked one of the notebooks from Reid’s desk. “I went through some of the pages last night and highlighted the entries that caught my eye. When you have time, you might want to take a closer look, too.”
“Why?” Reid closed the notebook and set it aside. He had also been doing a lot of thinking since last night. She wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
“Why?” She stared him down. “Because a young woman was murdered down the block from where we sit. You said yourself the location of your office and the magnolia blossom left at the crime scene link us to the murder.”
“Link us. But that doesn’t mean there’s a connection to your mother’s murder. That’s a long shot in my opinion.”
Arden’s expression turned suspicious. “What’s going on with you? Why do you keep saying one thing and then five minutes later say the opposite? My head is spinning trying to keep up with you.”
He’d be frustrated, too, if he were in her position, but she’d thrown him off his game. He’d said things he shouldn’t have and made rash decisions that weren’t in either of their best interests. Time to rectify his mistakes. “Unlike you, I got plenty of rest last night. My head is clearer than it’s been in days. I’m trying to look at the situation rationally instead of emotionally.”
“Okay. But what would be the harm in at least glancing through our notes?” Arden asked. “Who knows? We might find something that would help us with your current predicament.”
“By current predicament, I assume you mean Dave Brody. I don’t see how.”
“If Finch really was framed, maybe the same person is now trying to frame you.”
“Arden.”
“Don’t Arden me. We’ll never get to the bottom of anything unless you keep an open mind. But forget about the notebooks for a moment.” She sat forward, eyes gleaming. “I think I’ve figured how we can find Ginger Vreeland.”
Reid wrapped up his half-eaten burrito carefully and set it aside.
“Don’t you at least want to hear my idea?”
“I don’t think so.” He folded his arms on the desk and tried to remain resolved. “I’ve done some thinking, too, and I’ve decided it’s a bad idea to involve you in my problems. We have to be smart about this. If someone is trying to set me up, they wouldn’t hesitate to come after you if they thought you were in the way.”
“I can take care of myself,” she insisted. “Besides that, has it not occurred to you that the killer may come after me whether I’m helping you or not? What better way to frame you for murder than to take out an old girlfriend? Think about that, Reid. There’s safety in numbers. We need to stick together. And you need someone you can trust watching your back.”
She had a point, but that someone didn’t need to be her. If anything happened to Arden—
He banished the thought before it could take root.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm. I do. But you need to keep your distance. At least for now.”
She rolled her eyes in frustration. “There you go again. Changing your mind on a dime. I don’t get you, Reid Sutton. We had all of this resolved yesterday afternoon. What’s changed?”
“I’m trying to do what’s best for both of us.” Don’t back down. And don’t get distracted by her I’m-so-disappointed-in-you look. The disapproval in her eyes meant nothing to him. This was his house, his business. He had a right to make whatever decisions he deemed necessary. “Why do you want to work here anyway? Don’t you have better things to do with your time?”
“Such as?”
“You said you wanted to oversee the renovations to Berdeaux Place because you don’t trust anyone else. You even mentioned your plan to take on some of the work yourself. Do you have any idea how time-consuming a project like that can be?”
“Of course I do. I also know I’ll go out of my mind if I have to stay in that house twenty-four hours a day.”
He picked up a pen and examined the barrel. “Then why not get a job in your field? There are any number of museums and art galleries in this city that would jump at the chance to have someone with your expertise.”
“Not a one of them will touch me,” she said.
He glanced up. “What?”
She met his gaze boldly. “You heard me. The places you mentioned won’t hire me.”
“Why not?”
She hesitated, her defiance wilting under cross-examination. “I wasn’t altogether truthful with you the other night about the reason I left my job.”
“You were fired?”
She sighed. “Try not to gloat? This is hard enough without that smirk.”
He didn’t think he was gloating or smirking, but he apologized anyway. “Sorry. Go on.”
“I wasn’t fired. I resigned before it came to that. But just barely,” she admitted.
“What happened?”
She entwined her fingers in her lap. “The museum was sold several months ago. The new owners brought in some of their own staff, including a new director. He was funny, handsome, charismatic. We found we had a lot in common. We liked the same music, read the same books. We became friends. Close friends.”
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Reid had a sudden, inexplicable pain in his chest. He sat up straighter, as if good posture could make the ache go away.
“Call it whatever you like. A friendship. A relationship.” She dropped her gaze. “An intense flirtation.”
The knife twisted as Reid remained silent.
She fixated on her tangled fingers. “Turns out he was married.”
Stab me again, why don’t you? “You had an affair with a married man?” He hadn’t meant to sound so aghast or judgmental. He hardly had the moral ground here, but still. This was Arden.
She looked up at his tone. “It wasn’t an affair. It was never physical. Not that physical and I had no idea he was married. Maybe I didn’t want to know. But looking back, there were no obvious clues or signs. Nothing that would give him away. He was that good. Or maybe I was just that stupid.” Color tinged her cheeks. “Anyway, I later learned that he and his wife had been separated for a time. She followed him to Atlanta and they reconciled. When she got wind of our...”
“Intense flirtation.”
Arden’s blush deepened. “She stormed into the museum one day and made a scene. She was very upset. Overwrought. You can’t even imagine the things she said to me.”
“Oh, I bet I can.”
“She was under the
impression that I was the one who had come on to her husband. When he rejected my advances, I became aggressive. He told her I stalked him.”
“Wow.”
Arden nodded. “Her accusations blindsided me. I don’t consider myself naive, but I was completely fooled.”
“Sounds like a real catch, this guy.”
She frowned. “It’s not funny, Reid.”
No, but if he didn’t make light of the situation, he might get on the first flight to Atlanta, track this guy down and do something really stupid. “No one who knows you would ever believe such a ridiculous claim.”
She gave a weak shrug. “My friends stuck by me, but I was humiliated in front of my coworkers and damaged in the eyes of the new owners. I had no choice but to leave.”
“So you came back home to lick your wounds,” Reid said.
“Something like that. You see now why I can’t apply for a job in my field? The moment anyone calls for a reference, all that ugliness follows me here.”
Reid flexed his fingers and tried to relax. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this yesterday?”
“It’s a hard thing to talk about. It goes against the image I’ve always had of myself. Strong. Independent. Fearless. The truth of the matter is, I’m none of those things.” She glanced out the window before she turned back to Reid. “Do you want to hear something else about me? Another dark truth about Arden Mayfair?”
“Always.”
“I’d been spinning my wheels in the same position forever. I only ever became friends with him because I thought he could help advance my career. Turns out, I’m not such a great catch, either.”
“I don’t know about that,” Reid said. “I can name about a dozen guys right here in Charleston who would disagree with you.”
Her gaze burned into his, begging the question: Are you one of them?
Reid refused to speak on the grounds he might incriminate himself.
She gave him a tentative smile. The same smile that had held him enthralled since they were four years old. The same smile that had once made him believe he could climb mountains and slay dragons on her behalf.
She broke the silence with another question. “How is it that you always know the right thing to say?” she asked softly.
“It seems to me I’ve been saying the wrong thing ever since you came back. The one thing I do know is that everyone makes mistakes. Even you. You pick yourself up and you move on. That’s all you can do.”
“Is that what you did after we split up?”
“Yes, after a while. But we’re talking about you right now.”
She nodded. “It wasn’t my intent to come here yesterday and ask you for a job. I wanted your legal advice. That’s all. Then I saw this house...” She glanced around the messy office, lifting her gaze to the stained ceiling before returning her focus to Reid. “I understand your vision for this place. I got it the minute I walked through the door. An unpretentious but respectable neighborhood law firm where ordinary, everyday people in need can come in without fear of rejection or intimidation. In other words, the antithesis of Sutton & Associates.”
“And here I thought my vision was just to keep this place afloat.”
“You can play it off that way, but I know you have big plans for this firm. Whether you want to admit it or not, I can help you. I’m smart—at least most of the time—and you won’t find a harder worker. But you have to get over the antiquated notion that I need to be protected. I’m a big girl, Reid.”
“Oh, I know.”
“Then what’s it to be? Should I leave now, never again to darken your door? Or should I sit right here and tell you how we can smoke Ginger Vreeland out of her hiding place?”
He had already lost the battle and they both knew it. The trick now was to salvage as much of the war as he could. “If we’re going to do this, we need to set some ground rules.”
“Okay.”
He looked her right in the eyes. “This is my house, my firm. I have the final say. If I don’t want to take on a particular client, we don’t take on that client. If I say something is too dangerous to pursue, that’s the end of it.”
“Of course.”
His gaze narrowed. “That was too easy.”
“Maybe,” she agreed with a conciliatory smile. “I want this to work, but we have to be realistic. We’re both stubborn, impulsive, passionate people. We’re bound to clash now and then. But I do agree that when it comes to this firm, you have the final say.”
“Then why do I feel like I’ve just been snookered,” he muttered.
“This will work out for both of us. You’ll see.” She scooted to the edge of her seat. “Now do you want to hear about my plan?”
“I’m pretty sure I don’t have a choice.”
She gave him a brilliant smile, one without arrogance or guile. “It may sound a little convoluted at first, so just hear me out. I studied the file you gave me yesterday, in particular the transcript of Ginger Vreeland’s interview. She was once married. Did you know that? She married right out of high school and her husband joined the service a month later. They divorced when he came back from overseas. He died some years back in a motorcycle accident. Her closest living relative is an uncle who lives just outside of town. He practically raised her when her mother would be off on a bender. If anyone knows where she is now, it would be this uncle.”
Reid stared at her for a moment. “You got all that from the file I gave you?”
“Yes, didn’t you read through it?”
“Not as closely as you did, apparently, but let me see if I can contribute to the conversation. Brody said he’d hired a private detective while he was in prison, someone he’d known in the joint. According to this guy, Ginger’s family still wouldn’t talk. I’m assuming that includes the uncle.”
Arden wasn’t the least bit thwarted. If anything, she became more animated. “Then we have to give him an incentive. I thought of something last night when I couldn’t sleep.”
“Of course you did.” Reid couldn’t believe this was the same aloof woman he’d confronted on Sunday night. His accusation that she’d become pedestrian over the years suddenly rang hollow. She hadn’t changed. Maybe, deep down, he hadn’t either. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. But her excitement was infectious and he found himself leaning forward, anticipating her every word.
“A few years ago, I was part of a class action suit against a bank that had opened unauthorized accounts in some of their customers’ names. Something like that has been in the news recently with a much larger bank on a much larger scale, but the premise was the same. I was barely even aware of the suit until I was notified that money from the settlement had been deposited into my account. It was only a few hundred dollars, but that’s beside the point.” She paused to tuck back her hair. “What if we contact Ginger’s uncle and tell him that Ginger is still listed as her dead ex-husband’s beneficiary? His bank account is considered inactive and unless she acts quickly, she won’t be able to claim the money from the settlement. The amount would have to be large enough to tempt her out of hiding, yet not so large as to arouse her suspicions. We’ll say our firm specializes in helping people collect forgotten money. For a finder’s fee, we’ll file all the necessary paperwork to have the funds released to her, but we need to speak with her in person to verify her identity.”
“In other words, we lie,” Reid said.
“Yes, but would you rather Dave Brody find her first?” Arden asked. “We may be lying but we know we won’t hurt her. We can’t say the same about him. We’ll leave the uncle a business card and tell him time is of the essence.”
Reid ran fingers through his hair. “You’re right about one thing. This scheme is plenty convoluted.”
“It can work, though.”
“Maybe, but I see at least one glaring problem. She’s bound to recogniz
e my name.”
“Then I’ll be the contact person. I’ll have some business cards printed up with a burner phone number. The name Mayfair might even carry a little weight. I can put up a website, too. Simple but classy. Should only take a couple of days to get everything set up.”
“If Ginger suspects a con, it could drive her even deeper underground,” he said.
“That’s just a chance we’ll have to take. And it’s still preferable to Brody finding her first.”
Reid was silent for a moment as he ran the scenario through his head. “You say you can get this all set up in just two days’ time?”
“Yes, if I put in some overtime, but I’ll need a place to work.” She glanced in the other room. “I can’t sit on the floor all day.”
“I’ll get you a desk,” Reid said. “In the meantime, you can use mine. I’ll be out for most of the day anyway. That is, if you’re sure you’ll be okay here alone.”
“I feel safer here than I do at Berdeaux Place. You’ve had the locks changed and I won’t let anyone in while you’re gone. I’ll be fine.”
“You’ll need this.” He handed her a key.
She looked surprised. “I thought you said you didn’t give out keys to anyone.”
“Just take it, Arden.”
Chapter Ten
Reid had been gone for a few hours when Arden decided to take a lunch break. Since the fridge was pretty much empty, she walked down to a little café on Queen Street that offered a delicious array of wraps and salads. She made her selection and then perused her notes as she ate. She didn’t dawdle once she finished and, instead, stuffed everything back into her bag and quickly paid the check. She was just stepping outside when someone across the street caught her attention. Arden recognized him immediately as the man Reid had spoken to the day before. Dave Brody.
Her heart skipped a beat and she started to retreat back into the eatery while she waited for him to pass. But he seemed oblivious to her presence. He had his phone to his ear and appeared agitated by the conversation. He gestured with his free arm and then rubbed a hand across his buzzed head in apparent frustration. Even after he returned the phone to his pocket, he continued to rail at the air and then gestured menacingly at a passerby before he stomped off down the street.
Killer Investigation Page 12
