VEILED MIRROR

by Frankie Robertson

  Ellie was in the living room talking to yet more visitors who had called to offer their condolences. She’d looked miserable when Maria had announced that the mayor and his wife were here. He’d offered to stay with her, but she’d refused, saying it was better that he keep looking for clues.

  He tried to ignore the guilt gnawing at him. Ell had somehow sensed that he wasn’t really on board with her hunt for a killer this morning, and he’d side-stepped on a technicality. He hadn’t said she was crazy for thinking Chris and Beth were murdered.

  But he’d thought it.

  He’d also thought about how nice her sweetly rounded bottom would feel sitting in his lap when she’d bent over to get the French toast out of the oven. What was the matter with him? What kind of degenerate lusted after a grieving widow, pregnant with his best friend’s child?

  It was just that she looked so damned much like Beth.

  He pushed that thought away as he found the bank statements, and opened the folder.

  BETH LET THE MAYOR take her hand as they stood saying their goodbyes in the foyer. “Thank you, Cliff. It was so kind of you and …” What did Ellie say her name was? Toni? Torrie? “Tommie to come by. It means a lot to have the support of friends at a time like this.”

  “I meant what I said before, I hope you’ll call on us if you need anything. Anything at all.” He looked as if he meant it. Beth glanced at his red-haired wife. She hadn’t aged as well as her husband, but the warm look in her eyes was just as genuine.

  Beth took a deep breath. In for a penny, in for a pound.

  “Maybe you can do something for me. The sheriff doesn’t think Chris was murdered. I do. Would you have a word with him? Make sure he doesn’t drop this?”

  Tommie cast a worried glance at her husband and Cliff’s eyes took on a guarded aspect. “I’ve already talked to Doyle. He told me about your suspicions. He said he’d look into all the evidence.”

  It was almost word for word what the deputy had said. “He told you about the preliminary autopsy report, too.”

  She had to give the mayor credit; he didn’t flinch. “Yes, he did. But don’t you worry. He assured me he’s being thorough. With the media all over this, he’s not going to draw any conclusions until the final report is in.

  “You haven’t been bothered by them, have you? The media, I mean.” Tommie asked.

  “No. The neighbors told Maria that they’ve been misdirecting them to the other side of the county. Mack said a couple of the hands were approached, but they gave out the same story.” She gave Tommie and Cliff a wobbly smile, touched by how Ell’s friends had banded together to protect her. “I’m lucky to have such good neighbors.”

  Cliff opened the door. “Don’t think anything of it. When you married Chris, you became family.”

  A family that would probably want to lynch her when they found out she wasn’t Eleanor Pontifore.

  “OKAY … OKAY … Yeah …” Jason spoke into the phone as he paced behind the desk in the library. “Is that all? Can you fax that to me?” He pushed a button on the printer.

  Beth listened impatiently to his end of the conversation with his law firm. He’d taken advantage of the time zone difference and called them before breakfast, asking for some research on Palmer.

  “All right … I’ll be in touch. Thanks.” Jason hung up and leaned against the desk. “He got the results of that credit and background check on Palmer.”

  “And?”

  “He’s going to fax some docs over to me. There could be something hidden in the fine print, but so far it doesn’t look like he has a motive.”

  Beth let out breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

  “He’s in the process of liquidating everything he owns and transferring his assets to The Blood of the Lamb Mission.”

  “What about the church? Could it be involved?”

  “Probably not. It’s legit, and solvent. I checked. And they’re getting it all. It doesn’t make sense that Palmer would kill Chris so he could give more to the church, and it doesn’t make sense that the someone in the church would kill two people when they’re already getting a boatload of money.”

  It was a relief to have her judgment confirmed on that point. “Good. I’m glad. It would be nice if it were that easy, but I didn’t want it to be family.”

  “Family is usually the first place the police look—because they’re most often guilty.”

  “I know, but it’s so ugly. So where do we—” A horrifying thought sprang to life. “Do you suspect me?”

  Jason didn’t look shocked at the question. Apparently he’d given this some thought. “No. For several reasons. But most importantly, because I know how much you loved Chris.”

  Beth nodded silently. When she’d decided to take Ellie’s place she knew she might be putting herself at risk, but she hadn’t thought that she might also be considered a suspect. Maybe she was lucky that the sheriff didn’t think Chris was murdered.

  “I still think we should follow the money,” Jason said. “Did Chris have any big debts? Did anyone owe him?”

  Beth shook her head, at a loss for an answer. Why hadn’t she asked Ellie about Chris’s finances?

  “What about business deals? Anybody pissed off at him?”

  “I’m sorry, Jason, I don’t know. We didn’t talk much about financial stuff.”

  He smiled. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll figure it out. And why don’t you call me Jase, like you used to?”

  Another mistake. “Sorry. Beth used to call you ‘Jason’ and I guess it got into my head.”

  Jason stilled. “Beth talked about me?”

  Why had she opened this can of worms? “Uh, yeah. A little.”

  The computer chimed, indicating it had received a new message. Jason walked around the desk to check it, then wandered over to the fireplace. He leaned against the mantle and played with the Galileo’s thermometer, staring at it as if the light bouncing off the floating glass bubbles held the answers to unasked questions. “We kept in touch after the wedding. Did she tell you that?”

  Beth clenched her teeth. She hadn’t prepared herself for this. That Jason would talk to her about herself—in past tense.

  “Yeah, she told me.” She didn’t even try to keep the edge out of her voice.

  She and Ell had talked only a few times during the six month honeymoon, and she’d only mentioned Jason in passing, but her sister had sniffed the budding romance. Or thought she had. But when Jason had bedded and dumped her in one efficient visit, she hadn’t given her twin the details. She’d just said, “It didn’t work out.” Ell hadn’t been satisfied with that, but she hadn’t been able to grill Beth long distance.

  “I should have handled it better,” he said. “I was trying to keep her from being hurt.” He raised his eyes to hers, looking for understanding.

  “You did a pretty bad job of it.”

  “I know. And I can’t shake the feeling that I missed a chance at something that could have been really good.”

  He’s having second thoughts? Beth cleared her throat. “Yeah, you did.” If only he knew, they might still have that chance. She could tell him. But he was a lawyer, an officer of the court. He’d have an obligation to tell the sheriff that she wasn’t Ellie, wouldn’t he? Not to mention that he’d think she was committing fraud. He’d never forgive her for that. And he was only feeling guilty. If he knew she was really alive he wouldn’t be thinking of what could have been.

  “You’re probably thinking I’m a jerk.”

  “Not exactly …” She caught herself worrying Ell’s wedding ring with her thumb and forced herself to stop.

  “I thought about her a lot. We used to talk for hours, and afterward I’d keep remembering stuff I’d tell her the next time we talked.”

  He wanted absolution? Well he wasn’t going to get it from her. “She really liked you. She thought about you, too.”

  “She did?”

  “Yeah. But you dumped her.”

&nb
sp; Jason didn’t say anything. What could he say? It was the truth.

  “After you slept with her.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  She just lifted a brow.

  “Is that what she thought? That I just went there to get laid and get out?” Jason turned away. “Shit.”

  Had she misread what happened? “So what did you go there for?”

  Jason kept his back to her. His voice sounded unsteady. “It doesn’t matter now.”

  Beth opened her mouth, wanting to say something to make him feel better, then pressed her lips together. Ellie was tough. She wouldn’t let him off the hook. But she might change the subject. After a minute she asked, “So how can we find out if somebody was mad at Chris?”

  Jason jumped on the new topic. “Do you know Chris’s password to his computer?”

  Feeling stupid and useless, she shook her head no.

  “That’s okay. Give me a couple hours with his laptop, and I’ll see what I can find out.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Beth sat in a chair beside the bedroom window, staring at the cordless phone cradled in her lap. If she didn’t want her boss to give away her job, she needed to call Doug and tell him she was still alive, that the news report was a mistake. But how could she explain that, and then ask him not to tell anyone? I’m really not committing fraud, Doug. Trust me. I just look like a duck and quack like a duck. I’m really a swan. Honest.

  Maria bustled into the room with clean sheets, cast her a curious look and began stripping the bed.

  I might as well do something useful. Beth got up and started pulling the cases off the pillows. As she got to Ellie’s, a tsunami of grief and loss swamped her. She couldn’t give up the scent of her sister. Not yet. She hugged the pillow against her chest and buried her face in the softness for a moment, trying to hide the tears stinging her eyes. It felt like a fist had closed around her throat. She breathed in shallow pants, afraid if she took a deep breath it would come out as sobbing that she wouldn’t be able to stop.

  She hated feeling this out of control. These tidal waves of emotion wouldn’t help her find Ellie’s killer. They wouldn’t help her keep her job. But the storm of emotion kept swirling and tumbling inside her as tears dampened her face and the pillow. In a moment she was weeping in earnest.

  A sharp hiccupping breath shook her, and then another. Oddly, the jolting of her diaphragm calmed her. When she looked up, Maria was looking at her with a new gentleness.

  “Raise your hands over your head, mí’ja, and hold your breath.”

  Beth did as she was told, and gradually the spasms subsided while Maria continued changing the sheets. She left Ellie’s pillow as it was.

  Beth picked it up and put it in its place. “What am I going to do, Maria? I never thought Chris’ and ‘my’ deaths would make the national news. Now everyone back home thinks I’m dead.”

  Maria tsked. “You must call them. You must not let them grieve for you.”

  The heavy feeling in Beth’s chest felt like one stone grinding on another. She hated the idea that Jenn and Amy and Barry might be suffering because of her. “You’re right. And they’ll keep quiet about it, if I ask them. But I’m not so sure about my boss. How can he trust me when it looks like I’m committing fraud? And I’m not so sure he wouldn’t sell the story to the tabloids. But if I don’t tell him, he’ll replace me. Doug may be a jerk, but I really love my job.”

  Maria’s stern expression softened and she stopped pulling the sheets from the bed. “It is a good thing that you plan for the return to your own life. But it means you have a difficult choice. Do you protect your job, or do you find the killer?”

  Put like that, her path was clear. Beth nodded. “You’re right. Again.” She smiled at the housekeeper. “Thanks, Maria.”

  The older woman nodded with something akin to approval, but the look in her eyes was stern. “Thirteen days, mi’ja.”

  “THANKS, MR. FRANKLIN. I’LL be over to pick up Beth’s things by the end of the month.” Beth put down the phone with a sigh of relief. That was taken care of, for now at least.

  Beth’s landlord would hold her apartment until “Ellie” could dispose of Beth’s furniture and clothes. She hoped he would forgive the deception when she sent her next rent check. Her boss was still in the dark, and she’d only been able to get in touch with one of her friends. But Amy, once she’d gotten over her shock and had finished chewing her out, had said she’d explain to Jenn and Barry. Now all Beth had to do was find a murderer—who might or might not exist.

  A few minutes later the doorbell rang. Maria came in and handed Beth a card. “Mr. Montgomery would like to see you.” The card proclaimed him to be an agent with Penstemon Insurance.

  Beth’s stomach clenched. This couldn’t be good. She’d called the company for Ellie but they’d said she needed the death certificate to make a claim. It would take a completed autopsy and at least three weeks of bureaucracy before one could be issued. So what was an agent doing here now? She took a deep breath and made her way to the formal living room, where Maria had asked him to wait.

  Mr. Montgomery was slightly overweight but his dark suit looked crisp and neat despite the July heat. As Beth entered the room he looked away from the original Remington painting he’d been examining, and came toward her with hands outstretched. “Mrs. Pontifore. I’m sorry to meet you for the first time under such sad circumstances. Please accept my sympathy on the loss of your husband and sister.”

  His palms were sweaty. Beth let him pat her hand, but withdrew it as soon as courtesy would allow. “Thank you. I hope you’ll forgive my bluntness, but why are you here?” Beth felt a little surge of satisfaction as the words left her mouth. She sounded just like Ell.

  Montgomery gave her a small smile. “It’s about the life insurance policy your husband took out eight months ago.”

  She wasn’t normally a weepy person, but the thought of Chris taking out a policy on himself, a policy to provide for Ellie, brought tears to Beth’s eyes. “I haven’t made a claim yet, and the guy on the phone said I needed to send a death certificate.”

  “Yes, of course. Such things take time. But when a death is rather high profile such as this one, and the benefit amount is this sizable, Penstemon prefers to do its own investigation. This way, when the paperwork is in, there won’t be any delay. I’m sure you understand.”

  Beth sniffed and wiped a hand across her eyes. “No. I’m afraid I don’t.”

  “Neither do I.”

  Jason came to stand beside her. His presence seemed to energize the room. Beth suppressed the urge to touch him, to absorb some of his strength. Ellie wouldn’t do that. And she shouldn’t want to, either.

  “I’m Mrs. Pontifore’s friend and an attorney. What is this about?”

  The insurance agent turned his attention to Jason with an expression that said he was relieved to be talking at last to someone who wasn’t likely to have an emotional meltdown.

  “Well, as you probably know, most life policies have an exclusionary period. Ours is two years. Within that time, the policy won’t pay if the insured died of a previously diagnosed illness, or by his own hand. So we investigate.”

  “His own hand!” Beth couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You think this was suicide?”

  Jason put an arm around her shoulders but she was too angry to appreciate it. “Isn’t this a bit premature?” He asked. “Don’t you usually wait for a claim to be filed?” he asked. “For the initial shock to subside?” His even voice held a hint of warning.

  Montgomery paled but plowed on. “Normally, yes. But with a five million dollar benefit, the company felt they should expedite matters.”

  “Five million!” The breath left her and Beth sat down heavily on the arm of the nearest chair.

  “Are you all right?” Jason leaned close.

  “You didn’t know?” the agent asked.

  “Yes. I mean no, I didn’t know. Yes, I’m okay.” Beth shook her head.
“I mean, I knew Chris had a policy, but—five million dollars?” Chris had made sure that Ellie could go on with her dream of breeding and training horses, without having to work for someone else. And then another thought occurred to her: Had Chris been worried for his life? Was that why he’d taken out such a large policy? Because he was afraid that someone might kill him before Ellie got pregnant?

  “I have some questions to ask,” Montgomery said, “if you’re up to it.”

  “I don’t think now is a good time,” Jason growled.

  “No. It’s all right,” Beth said. “What do you want to know?”

  JASON FROWNED BUT KEPT silent. Penstemon was looking for a way to keep from paying out a five million dollar benefit. They would have been perfectly happy to collect obscene premiums for twenty years, but now that they had to pay up they were looking for a way to squirm out of their obligation. As far as Jason was concerned, that made them little better than con-men.

  Montgomery sat down and pulled a tablet computer out of his briefcase. “What was your husband’s mood in the weeks before he died?”

  Ellie moved from the arm of the chair to perch on the edge of the cushioned seat. The color was coming back into her face, but Jason didn’t like the way her hands were shaking. “If you’re asking if he was depressed, the answer is no,” she said. “We’d just found out that we’re going to have a baby.”

  “Forgive me for asking, but was this, uh, a planned pregnancy?”

  Jason’s temper flared at the intrusive question but he managed to clamp down on it.

  Ellie looked nonplused, but then she rallied. “He wanted the baby, if that’s what you mean. He was thrilled.”

  “Any financial difficulties?”

  “No.”

  Montgomery nodded and made a notation on his computer. “How about you?” he asked Jason. “How well did you know Mr. Pontifore? Had you noticed any changes?”

  Jason felt a flood of regret for letting the communication lapse between him and Chris as his friend’s romance had progressed. “We were old friends.”