"Is she expecting you?" the woman asked.
"Not exactly." I cleared my throat. "But I was here before with Carrie Cross, Harper's friend."
While I wasn't sure the six degrees of separation actually explained my presence there, the fact that I was a repeat visitor must have convinced her I was on the approved persons list, as she stepped back, allowing us entry.
"If you don't mind waiting just a moment, I'll inform Mrs. Kellen that you're here," she said, closing the door behind us and giving a curt nod before she disappeared down a hallway.
We only had to wait a minute before Kellen herself appeared, her heels clacking noisily along the polished marble floor as she strode toward us. If she recognized me, she made no indication of it.
"Yes?" she asked in a clipped tone that immediately conveyed her belief that whatever the reason we were there, it was a waste of her precious time.
"Emmy," I supplied. "Emmy Oak. I, uh, stopped by with Carrie the other day to offer my condolences on the passing of your sister."
"Oh. Yes," she replied, her expression void of any emotion at the mention of her sister.
"I'm so sorry for your loss," Ava jumped in.
"This is my friend, Ava Barnett," I said, making introductions.
"How do you do," Kellen said automatically, though I noticed she simply nodded in Ava's direction in lieu of shaking hands. "Was there something I could help you with?"
A confession to her sister's murder would be nice. But I figured an accusation was a terrible icebreaker, so I went with the line Ava and I had come up with in the car ride over instead.
"I know Carrie was here helping Sandra plan Harper's memorial services yesterday. I thought I'd stop by and offer my catering services for the memorial as well." Which wasn't a total lie. If Kellen wanted to hire me, I certainly wouldn't turn down the work.
"Ah," she simply said. "Well, unfortunately Sandra is no longer with us, so the odious planning task has fallen to me."
She motioned for us to follow her as she turned and retreated back down the polished hallway.
"What happened to Sandra?" I asked her back as we wound past the oil paintings and antiques toward the great room.
"I had to let her go. This morning, actually. She was stealing from us," Kellen said, a sneer in her voice. "Can you imagine? After all we've done for her."
I wasn't exactly sure what that "all" encompassed, but apparently Kellen thought it deserved a degree of loyalty.
"Had she been with you long?" I asked, trying to reconcile the polite woman I'd met with Kellen's portrait of a thief.
Kellen shook her head as she led us to a grouping of club chairs near the fireplace. "Long enough. Anyway," she went on as she lowered herself into one of the chairs, "now I'm left holding the bag on this whole memorial."
"Well, hopefully we can be of help," I told her as Ava and I sat in a pair of chairs opposite her, the hard leather squeaking beneath me. "When are you planning the service for?"
"My mother and father will be arriving in a couple of days, so we'll obviously be waiting until then."
"How are they holding up?" I asked.
"They're devastated, of course," Kellen answered. She frowned at me, as if I'd asked a stupid question.
"Where are they traveling in from?" Ava asked.
"The Riviera," Kellen said, a note of pride in her voice, as if the location alone were a bragging right. "They own a vacation home there. They go every summer."
"It's barely spring," I noted.
Kellen frowned again, this time in obvious annoyance. "Well, they've been under extra stress this year. What with Harper's exploits. They went early."
"What exploits, exactly?" Ava asked.
Kellen turned her gaze to Ava. "I'm sorry—who did you say you were again?"
Clearly it was meant more as a dig to mind her own business rather than a genuine question.
But if Ava was insulted by it, she didn't let on, just shooting the same sunny smile Kellen's way as she answered, "A friend. And a fan of Harper's work."
Kellen snorted. "As if you could call what my sister did on that ridiculous TV show work compared to what the rest of us do."
"Yes, I believe Emmy mentioned your charity work," Ava said, impressively keeping a straight face.
"Philanthropy is a duty. My family has shouldered that duty for many years, and I'm proud to carry on that tradition."
"Did Harper leave any money to charity?" I asked, suddenly curious.
"Excuse me?" Kellen turned her attention back to me.
"In her will. I assume she had some assets?"
"My sister had nothing," Kellen informed me, her tone dry.
"Nothing?" Ava asked. Her voice held a note of disbelief as her eyes roved the opulently decorated room. "Surely she had some allowance or trust fund?"
"Had is the key word. My parents finally cut her off financially a few months ago."
"That seems harsh," Ava said. "What did Harper do that was so bad?"
"What didn't she do?" Kellen asked on a sarcastic laugh. "Anything that would cause the family embarrassment was like a fun game to Harper. But if you're asking what the last straw was, it was her DUI."
"I read about that," Ava said, nodding. "Last fall, right?"
"Yes. Well, I'm sure you did read about it. The press had a field day with that. Including the Napa Valley Register! Can you imagine how devastating that was for my father? All of his associates read the Register." She shook her head at the horror of it all. "Anyway, our attorney 'fixed' it for her, but my parents were done with her after that. They cut her off financially completely. Told her that she needed to grow up and start acting in a way befitting a Bishop."
"Grow up, as in quit acting and devote herself to philanthropy?" I clarified.
"Charity work builds character."
If Kellen Bishop-Brice was any indication, that statement was debatable.
"Kellen, what was it that you and Harper talked about the last time you saw her?" I asked, hoping to get to the point of our visit.
She blinked at me again, her eyelashes fluttering. "I-I told you. She came for Christmas. It didn't go well, and she left."
"I didn't mean then. I meant earlier this week. When you met her downtown."
Her skin when a shade paler underneath her expensive makeup. "W-what do you mean?"
"I mean, I know you saw Harper the day before she died."
"Th-that's preposterous."
"We have a witness," Ava said.
"A witness?" Kellen's pallor was practically ghostlike as she realized she was good and truly caught. How embarrassing. She licked her lips, eyes instinctively darting over her shoulder to her bookshelf, even though the only ones in attendance to witness her humiliation were Dickens and Shakespeare.
"Kellen, you did meet Harper, didn't you?" I asked softly.
"Alright," she finally said. "Yes. I saw my sister. There's no crime in that."
"Why did you lie about it?" Ava asked.
Kellen cleared her throat, clearly attempting to regain her composure. "We had things to discuss that aren't public knowledge, and I wanted to keep them that way."
"Like her pregnancy?" I took a guess.
Kellen closed her eyes for a moment, all composure gone, and I could almost hear the host of unladylike words running through her mind.
"What do you want?" she finally asked, opening her eyes back up and narrowing them at me. "Money? Is that it? You want to be paid off to keep your mouths shut?"
"N-no!" I stammered, caught off guard. "No, we just want to know what happened to Harper."
"Why?" Ava jumped in. "Has someone else tried to blackmail you?"
Kellen shook her head, her eyes flashing with fire. "Just my sister. Saying if I didn't help her talk to Mommy and Daddy about the pregnancy, she'd never forgive me."
"Is that what she wanted to meet about?" I asked. "Reconciling with your parents?"
"Reconciling with their money, you mean." Kellen gave that sardonic bark of
laughter again. "Like I said, Harper had nothing. She was nearly broke. Her lifestyle far exceeded what she was paid on that little show of hers, even before they fired her. Without Mommy and Daddy to bankroll her, she knew she was in trouble."
I found the disdain in her voice hypocritical, considering she and her husband were currently being bankrolled by Mommy and Daddy too, but I said nothing, letting her go on.
"She knew they'd listen to me. She thought I could sell the idea of a baby, some happy family fantasy, and that would somehow magically change their minds about Harper."
"But you didn't?"
"Of course not. My parents are not sentimental idiots."
I could see how an accidental pregnancy, especially if it was a married man's child, wasn't every parent's dream for their daughter. But as I watched Kellen, I had to wonder how much of this disapproval really came from the Bishops and how much was just Kellen's.
"Surely the idea of an heir to carry on the family name would have been appealing?" I pushed. "At least a little?"
"Hardly." Kellen gave me a challenging look, like she knew I had no way of proving whether she was exaggerating or not.
"Did Harper tell you who the father was?" Ava asked.
Kellen shook her head. "No. And I didn't care to ask. Whatever degenerate she was spending her time with was her business, and I certainly didn't want to make it mine." She rose from her chair, her expression stoic. "Now, if there's nothing else, I'm sure you can see yourselves out."
* * *
"Suddenly I'm feeling lucky to have been an only child," Ava said once we'd left the Bishop residence and were back in my Jeep. "The love for her sister was downright smothering."
"Ditto," I agreed.
"But, I'm still not convinced she killed Harper just to avoid embarrassment."
"No," I said, going over what Kellen had said in my head. "But maybe it wasn't about that. Maybe it was more about the money."
"How so?" Ava asked as I pulled down the driveway.
"Well, Kellen said Harper was angling to reconcile with her parents."
"According to Kellen, her parents wouldn't go for it."
"Right according to Kellen. But maybe they would have. Maybe Kellen was afraid that a grandchild would suddenly change everything," I said, a theory forming out loud. "Kellen's been living off her parents' money, and her husband, Morgan, all but said she was just waiting for them to die so she could get her half of the inheritance."
"But with a grandchild now in the mix, she ran the risk of the inheritance being split three ways," Ava said, picking up my train of thought.
"Exactly," I said, nodding. "And who knows how much of their estate the Bishops might have willed to their only grandchild. It could have even been more than just a third. Maybe even the bulk of it."
"Only now with Harper gone, Kellen stands to inherit it all."
Ava and I both fell silent contemplating just how much that all would be. Judging from the mansion we'd just left, it was plenty worth killing over.
"But what about the blackmail?" Ava asked.
"What about it?"
"Well, I don't see Kellen blackmailing her sister."
"You're right," I admitted. Of all the rotten things I could imagine Kellen doing, that wasn't one. She'd said herself that Harper didn't have any money. "So who did?"
"I still like Tripp. He finds out about Harper's pregnancy and says he'll keep quiet about it if she pays him."
"Assuming it's Bert's and Harper doesn't want Carrie to know?" I asked, hating that every theory seemed to end in Bert being guilty.
Ava must have picked up my feeling, as she shook her head. "Or whoever the father is. I mean, maybe it was even someone else with more to lose than Bert. Harper could have been seeing any number of guys. I mean, who knows what she was doing three months ago?"
I froze, that last part of her statement making something in the back of my mind click. "Actually, I know exactly what she was doing three months ago." I turned to face Ava. "She was taking horseback riding lessons from Tripp Jones."
She blinked at me, the same realization hitting her. "No! You don't think Harper and Tripp…" She let the insinuation trail off.
I nodded, bobbing my head up and down so vigorously that my hair flopped in my face. "I think it's entirely possible."
"But he hardly seems her type."
"You haven't seen him with his shirt off," I told her. "If I wasn't halfway convinced he was a murderer, a guy with abs like that could be temptingly my type."
"Harper pregnant with Tripp's baby," Ava said, trying the theory on for size. "This is better than an episode of Carefree Hearts!"
"Or worse," I added. "Depending on your point of view."
Ava swatted me on the arm. "That show is awesome."
"If you say so." I grinned at her. "It does change things though. If Harper was pregnant with Tripp's child and not Bert's, Tripp would have had no reason to blackmail Harper over it."
"So who did?" Ava asked.
"And why?" I added.
"Exactly," Ava said. "And I think that's the key to this whole thing."
"So, how do we find that out?" I asked, thinking out loud.
"Grant didn't say if the techs found anything on Harper's phone?"
I shook my head. "No, but he probably wouldn't tell me even if they did find something."
"Well, maybe there was more to the message? Like, maybe something that would point to the blackmailer's identity?"
"You really think he'd sign it?"
"No," Ava said, pouting. "No, you're right. But maybe something about the drop-off location or the language. I don't know." She shook her head. "I just wish we could have seen it ourselves."
"Me too," I agreed. I paused, thinking back to what Carrie had told me about the message she'd seen. "You know, it might be a long shot, but it's possible maybe we can see it."
"How?" Ava shot a glance at me again.
"Well, I remember Carrie saying they only have two working security cameras. One at the property entrance and one at the front door. Carrie said Harper was on the front porch when she spotted her phone."
"You think maybe the camera picked something up?" Ava asked, her eyes lighting with enthusiasm.
I shrugged. "Like I said, it's a long shot…but it's possible."
Ava grinned. "Carrie's house is on the way home," she pointed out. "Might as well stop by and check it out, right?"
* * *
"Oh, hi, Emmy. I wasn't expecting you," Carrie said, as she pulled her front door open fifteen minutes later.
"Sorry. We should have called," I told her.
"No, no. It's fine." She paused. "I actually meant to call you. Nolan told me all about the attack last night. Are you okay?"
My hand instinctively went to the bump on my head, which thankfully the painkillers had mostly relieved. "I'm fine," I assured her.
Carrie shook her head. "First Harper and then the break-in. I'm not sure how much more I can take." The dark rings under her eyes told me she'd had as rotten a night's sleep as I had. She looked pale, and her naturally slim frame looked downright skinny today, her jeans baggy on her hips.
"I'm sure the police will find the intruder," I told her, trying to sound comforting.
Carrie nodded. Barkley yapped around our feet. "They were here again today. That detective."
I pursed my lips. I'd figured as much. "What did he say?"
Carrie shook her head. "I don't know. He talked to Bert alone in the den."
"And Bert didn't say what it was about?"
Again her head shook. "No. He said he didn't want to talk about it."
I'll bet.
Barkley jumped up against Carrie's leg, his boundless energy a stark contrast to how tired she looked.
"Sit," she told him halfheartedly.
He jumped more, yapping playfully at her.
She finally relented and picked him up before turning her attention back to us. "Can I offer you some coffee or something?"
/>
"I never say no to coffee. But why don't you let me make it," I offered.
"I couldn't ask you to do that," Carrie protested, though it was about as halfhearted as her attempts to silence Barkley, her body seemingly void of any energy.
"You didn't ask. I offered," I told her with a smile. "Why don't you go sit on the terrace and get some sunshine, and I'll bring it out?"
Ava linked her arm though Carrie's. "Come on, I'll keep you company," she said.
I gave Ava a grateful smile as Carrie was reluctantly led outside.
Ava kept the chatter bubbly as they disappeared through the house, and I made my way to the kitchen, quickly putting Carrie's coffeemaker to work. I found a bag of pastries on the counter and added it to a tray with our steaming mugs before I carried it all outside to hear the tail end of their conversation.
"—so quiet here without Dante." Carrie sighed wistfully.
"Have you heard anything from Animal Control?" Ava asked as she set the tray down on a teak table on the patio.
"No. But Tripp told me that he was doing his best to get him released. I told him they just can't euthanize him for what he did. He's not a killer. He was just scared."
While I knew Dante hadn't purposely killed Harper, he was a wild animal, and clearly they were dangerous. But I kept that thought to myself.
"I didn't know if Bert was joining us," I said to Carrie, handing her a mug of steaming coffee.
"No. He's upstairs. On the phone with his lawyer. This whole thing is just so unfair. I just wish it was over." Tears welled behind her lashes. Barkley whimpered, nuzzling into her.
Ava took her hand and squeezed it tight.
I handed Carrie one of the paper napkins I'd placed on the tray, and she dabbed her eyes.
"Carrie, we actually came by because we wanted to ask you something about the night of the party," I said, sitting in the seat opposite her.
"Yes?" she asked, sipping at her coffee.
"When you saw Harper's phone that night—with the word blackmail on it—you said you were on the porch, correct?"
She nodded. "That's right. Harper had ducked out to get some air."
"And that's one of the few places where you said you do have a working security camera?"
She nodded again, a small frown forming between her eyebrows. "Yes. Why?"
Death in Wine Country (Wine & Dine Mysteries Book 5) Page 16
