Grace Sees Red

by Julie Hyzy

  I didn’t wait for them to react. “And, as I said to Dan, please accept my sincere condolences on your loss.”

  Harland and Joslyn exchanged a quick glance. As though reminded that they were in mourning, their demeanor shifted. “We are very upset about all this,” Harland said. “I’m sure you understand.”

  “Of course,” I said magnanimously. “This is a difficult time for all of you.”

  “Anybody would be concerned to find a stranger rifling through their dead father’s belongings.” Though she’d softened her stance, Joslyn clearly remained unmoved.

  “I’m very sorry to have met you all under such unhappy circumstances, but please know that—more than anything—I want to get to the truth.” Again, not giving them a chance to respond, I plunged forward. “Of course, I’m sure we’ll eventually learn that your father died of natural causes.”

  “The police don’t seem to agree with you,” Joslyn said. “From what we’ve heard, they’re convinced his wife”—this accompanied by an accusatory finger pointed at Percy—“had it in for my father-in-law. God rest his soul.”

  Harland and Dan repeated the blessing.

  I bit back my knee-jerk reflex to argue. Instead, I asked, “Assuming he didn’t die naturally—and I sincerely hope to find out that he did—is there anyone else who may have had motive to kill him?”

  “My father-in-law was an angel,” Joslyn said.

  Dan shot me an I-told-you-so look.

  “If Frances did this to him,” Joslyn continued, “she deserves to rot in jail for the rest of her life.”

  Harland waved her down like one would an energetic puppy. “Don’t start painting holy pictures of him just because he’s dead,” he said, practically echoing his brother’s sentiments. “Maybe my dad wasn’t the easiest guy to get along with, but he didn’t deserve being drugged to death.”

  “I agree,” I said, “and, believe me, I’ll be the first to help bring the guilty party to justice. But—make no mistake—it wasn’t Frances.”

  Joslyn started to push, asking how I could be so sure, but Harland silenced her again. “We’re not going to solve it here. We have to wait for the police to sort it all out.” He regarded me with interest. “What exactly did you think you’d find?”

  I answered honestly. “I don’t know.”

  Percy positioned himself next to me and elbowed my arm. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to the police station?”

  His insistence that I hurry along was beginning to bug me. “She said she’d be a little while longer,” I reminded him. “Aren’t you running late for your card game?” I stepped out of his way. “Don’t let me hold you up.”

  Harland and Joslyn were blocking the exit. They both scuttled to one side to give Percy a clear path to the door. The look he threw me as he made his way out was not a happy one.

  “See you later,” I called to his back.

  The moment the door eased shut behind him, I asked the question I couldn’t broach with Percy in the room. “What about other people here at Indwell?” I asked. “I’m not suggesting that your father’s roommates are guilty, but I don’t want to overlook any possibilities.”

  Harland brightened. “If it was one of his roommates, then we’ll have a nice lawsuit on our hands, won’t we? Indwell practically forced our dad to live with these two ingrates.”

  I turned to see Joslyn shoot a nervous glance to the back of Harland’s head.

  “Indwell forced Gus to live in this apartment?” I asked her.

  “Not exactly,” she said.

  Harland spun to face her. “What are you talking about? Once Dad saw the rooms here, compared with the other ones, there was no going back. You saw those other places. A man with his money shouldn’t have to live in a one-room dump.”

  “That’s what I mean,” she said. “He didn’t like the other options. They didn’t exactly force him to live with Percy and Kyle. It was more like he picked living here.”

  “That’s not how I remember it.”

  The four of us formed a rough semicircle outside of Gus’s bedroom door. Though Dan looked eager to pop into the conversation, he remained relatively silent as Harland and Joslyn bickered.

  “Your father got along well with Kyle, from what I understand,” I said.

  “Yeah; I didn’t understand that one bit,” Harland said.

  Dan cleared his throat. “Me neither.”

  Harland jabbed Dan with his elbow. “Sometimes felt like the old man liked that kid better than he liked us, didn’t it?”

  Joslyn gave the room a derisive glance. “Don’t understand what the kid saw in Gus, though,” she said. “Unless he was looking for a sugar daddy.”

  “Excuse me?” I said.

  Harland waved her down again. “Don’t pay her any attention. She got it into her head that Kyle befriended Dad only because he knew he was worth a lot of money.” Exactly the way his brother had earlier, Harland rubbed his thumb and fingers together. “She thinks the kid wanted to get Dad to include him in the will.”

  “But isn’t Kyle’s family well-off?” I asked.

  “Sure, but that doesn’t mean the kid is. He depends on them for everything. According to Dad, Kyle doesn’t want to live here. He wants to be out on his own.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “Anything’s possible with enough bucks,” Harland said with a laugh. “Isn’t that right?”

  “Was there any chance of your dad doing that?” I asked. “Revising his will, I mean?”

  “No way,” Dan said. “Dad may have been a cranky old coot, but he was big on bloodlines. I can’t tell you how many times he told us: ‘Money stays in the family.’ He didn’t even like it much when Harland bought Joslyn a new car. Said, ‘What if she divorces you, what then? She’s got the car, and you got nothing.’ Man, that was how many years ago? He never stopped complaining about it. Remember, Harland?”

  “He was joking around,” Harland said quickly, but from the look on Joslyn’s face, this pronouncement came as news. “You know Dad. He said stuff.”

  Joslyn’s cheeks reddened.

  Oblivious, Dan said, “What are you talking about? Dad didn’t joke around.”

  Before this erupted into a family squabble, I asked, “What about Anton? He seemed broken up about your father’s death, but”—I shrugged—“appearances can be deceiving.”

  “You met Anton?” Dan asked. “When?”

  “He came to visit Sunday, while the police were still here. The news seemed to come as a real shock to him,” I said.

  Harland slid a glance toward his father’s room. “Did he have a bottle of whiskey with him? Did he leave it here?”

  “He did have a bottle with him.” I considered telling them that Percy had appropriated the gift for himself, but there was something about these folks that grated on my nerves. “I’m sure he took it back with him. The police weren’t letting anyone into this room.”

  “Anton always brought the good stuff,” Dan said.

  Harland ran his tongue over his lower lip. “Maybe we should look around in there. See if there’s any left.”

  “If you find any open liquor in there, you should give it to the police. Have it tested.”

  “What? Now you think Anton killed him?” Harland nudged his wife. “This girl will do anything to get the heat off of Frances, won’t she?”

  “Yeah,” Joslyn said. “Sure seems like it.”

  “I’m not saying that Anton did it intentionally. I’m saying that there could have been something in the liquor that interacted with your dad’s medications. Have the police even considered that?”

  “Nobody killed Dad,” Dan said. “I wish people would stop saying that. He always said he wanted to die peacefully. He did. If it weren’t for that Santiago, we’d be able to bury him peacefully, too.”

  “T
he same way you know your dad died peacefully, is the same way I know Frances could never have hurt him,” I said. “Whatever we can do to help the police understand that will only help us all.”

  The three of them looked at one another. “I guess.” Dan shifted his weight and pointed toward Gus’s room. “Want to get started?” he asked Harland.

  The door swung open again and Tara came in. “Oh, hello. I didn’t realize you’d still be here,” she said to me before turning to Dan and Harland. “I stopped by to let you know that if you need boxes to carry your father’s things out, I’d be happy to call downstairs and see if maintenance has extras. They usually do.”

  “That would be really nice. Thank you,” Dan said.

  She turned to leave, but then stopped as though remembering something. “Have you all had a chance to talk with the rest of the staff?” she asked. “I know they wanted to express sympathy.”

  “We saw Cathy on the way in,” Harland said.

  “Me, too.” Dan raised a finger. “And Santiago came by earlier.” He neglected to add that he’d practically chased the nurse out.

  “Debbie’s on lunch, but I’ll let her know you’re here,” Tara said. “I know she’ll want to see you all before you leave.”

  Dan gave a so-so motion with his hand. “Cleaning this room out may take a little longer than I originally thought. We may need the entire week Indwell is giving us.”

  “Dad had that much stuff here?” Harland asked. “Like what?”

  Dan gave a half laugh. “Haven’t had time to get started.”

  Tara seemed eager to get out and call down for those boxes. “Take however long you need. Indwell understands that this is a trying time for all of you.”

  “I’ll join you,” I said as she turned to leave. I’d probably gotten as much information as I could from the Westburg family. “Thanks for talking with me,” I said. “If anything occurs to you that could help the police with their investigation, please don’t hesitate to let them know. And feel free to contact me, as well.” I handed all three of them my business cards.

  “Marshfield Manor?” Harland said as he studied the card. “That’s where you work?”

  “Have you ever met the owner?” Joslyn asked. “He’s a billionaire, isn’t he? Bennett Marshfield?”

  “She’s his niece,” Dan said.

  “Oh,” Joslyn said in a completely new tone. “Oh. Pleased to meet you.”

  Tara looked ready to burst into laughter. “Ready to go?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  When the automatic door swung shut behind us, Tara turned to me with a conspiratorial grin. “Was that a sweet moment or what?” she said. “Did you see the looks on their faces? They were shocked to find out who you are.”

  “It’s Bennett’s name that impressed them. Not mine.”

  “Close enough. I swear, the week you and Mr. Marshfield found out you were related, Frances couldn’t wait to share the news with everybody here. You’d have thought she was the one it was happening to. Your head must be spinning with all the changes in your life right now.”

  “Frances told everyone?” I pointed behind us. “Dan recognized my name right away, but Harland and Joslyn had no clue.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s because Dan visits here at least three, four times a week. He may not have liked hanging out with his father, but he showed up. That’s more than I can say for the two of them. I’d be surprised if they even know any of the staff members’ names.”

  “It was nice of you to give Gus’s family as much time as they needed to clear things out. I’m kind of glad, in a selfish way, to know that they’ll be here a few more days. Gives me a chance to come up with more questions for them, if I need to.”

  “They can take all the time they want.” She gave a little smile as she shrugged. “The cost for somebody to live in that apartment is more than most people make in a year. It’s not like there’s a waiting list.”

  Chapter 20

  Frances talked the entire ride back to Emberstowne. I heard about the sour smell of the interrogation room and the sassy attitude of the detectives who attempted to question her. She delivered an earful about how poorly Rosette’s small-town police department was run and—though she didn’t say it—I got the distinct impression that Lily Holland’s presence had been the only thing that had kept Frances from being arrested and tossed into a cell by the afternoon.

  Apparently, the detectives questioning Frances had tried to coax a confession by suggesting that Frances had only accidentally killed Gus. That, by injecting the man with insulin, she’d merely meant to make him sick.

  “What kind of mealy-brained fool do they think I am?” she asked. “Like I’d admit to anything I didn’t do. Pheh.”

  “Was Lily able to get any more information? Do you know when autopsy results will be in?”

  “Preliminary results are in now,” Frances said. “They’re waiting for word from the lab on whether Gus had unnecessary insulin floating around in there.”

  “When will those results come in?”

  “Who knows? They didn’t see fit to tell me.”

  It bothered me that her anger seemed different. Instead of crossing her arms, fuming, and fairly sparking the air with rage-filled fireworks, she kept her hands in her lap and fiddled with the clasp of her vinyl purse.

  “What else did the detectives have to say?”

  She lifted a chubby finger. “One: The only fingerprints on the empty insulin containers in Percy’s room are mine.” She lifted a second finger. “Two: They have a witness who swears Gus and I got into such a heated argument he was afraid we’d get violent.”

  “A witness? Do you mean Santiago?” I asked.

  “Who else?” She gave an indignant sniff. “You ask me, he’s getting his kicks out of embellishing. Makes him seem like Mr. Important. He’s one of those people who lives for attention.”

  She’d lowered her fingers and dropped her hand back into her lap.

  “Anything else?”

  “According to Lily, they can’t arrest me for anything. Not enough evidence. Yet. I hope to heaven Gus had a heart attack and died on his own.”

  “Gus’s son Dan believes that’s what happened.”

  “Too bad Dan isn’t a Rosette detective. Couple of idiots. They really believe they have a homicide here.” She snorted. “I can tell them a thing or two about homicides.”

  That was at least the second time she’d used the word idiot to describe them. “Tell me about them,” I asked.

  “Nothing like Rodriguez and Flynn, believe me. Compared to these people, our Emberstowne detectives are rocket scientists.”

  She took her time describing the pair of Rosette detectives, providing their names. Both female, both in their early thirties and, according to Frances, “Jumpy and yappy as excited Chihuahuas. With sharp teeth they couldn’t wait to sink into my skin. Ambitious little things, eager to make a name for themselves.” She shook her head. “Well, they can find themselves another chew toy.”

  “Did they play good cop/bad cop?”

  “Pheh,” she said with a humorless laugh. “Mostly they made us wait. If Lily hadn’t been there, they probably would have started in sooner. We got pulled in three separate times for their prattle. In between we sat and waited. They thought they could play mind games. Like that could wear me down. Like they thought they could break me.”

  Staring out the window, she massaged one hand with the other.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  She nodded but said nothing.

  I offered to drive her home rather than back to Marshfield, promising to pick her up for work the next morning. Even though the trip between the two locations wasn’t a long one, she seemed far too distracted to drive herself. To my astonishment, she didn’t argue.

  When I pulled up i
n front of her tidy cottage, she gathered her purse and opened the passenger door. She’d gotten one foot out when she turned back. “I forgot to ask what you found out at Indwell today.”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow,” I said.

  The spark of hopefulness in her eyes dimmed. “That means you didn’t learn much.”

  I was sorry to disappoint her. “Tomorrow, you and I will brainstorm. Maybe I learned more than I realize.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Text me in the morning when you’re ready to be picked up,” I said.

  “Okay.” She prepared to boost herself from the car, then turned back to me again. “Don’t be late.”

  That, at least, I could promise. “I won’t.”

  * * *

  When I arrived home, my roommates were settled in the parlor: Bruce on the sofa, Scott in one of the chairs. I got the impression that both had been staring into space before I walked in.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” Scott said in a tone that belied his words. “Unless you count the bank pulling the rug out from under us. Then, everything is wrong.”

  I stripped off my jacket, dropped my purse on the floor, and sank into the other wing chair. “Where’s Bootsie?” I asked.

  “Cowering, most likely.” Bruce rubbed his forehead. “My fault. We got in about twenty minutes ago. The minute the back door closed and I knew the neighbors couldn’t hear, I let out a yell of frustration. I just had to let off some steam. Scared her, I think.”

  “She ran up the stairs,” Scott said with a helpful point. “Haven’t seen her since.”

  “I’m sorry,” Bruce said again. “I wasn’t yelling at her. But she doesn’t know that.”

  “She’ll be fine, I’m sure,” I said, hoping to hear her pad down the stairs any minute. “It’s you two I’m worried about. Last I heard, the bank was expediting paperwork. What’s going on?”