Grace Sees Red

by Julie Hyzy

  “But you said that they didn’t know the terms of the will, either.”

  “They still don’t. They will soon enough. That doesn’t mean they won’t try.”

  I studied the dull face across the table. Could I be staring into the eyes of Gus’s killer right now?

  “You see why I struggled about telling you all this,” he said. “As soon as the police learn the details of the will—which will happen by the end of the week, I’m told—I’ll become suspect number one.”

  “What do you expect from me?”

  “I’ve done homework on you,” he said. “You have a reputation for finding the truth. I wanted to help you by giving you my story. The truth as I see it.”

  To help? I wondered. Or to throw me off?

  “Two more things,” he said, holding up a corresponding number of fingers. He grimaced, then made a very obvious assessment of the room to ensure no one could hear. He lowered his voice. “The day before Gus died, I brought him a . . . gift.”

  “What kind of gift?”

  He glanced around the room again, then whispered, “A bottle of alcohol. In a jar with no label.”

  “Illegal moonshine?”

  His whole body jerked. “How do you know about such things?”

  I shook my head, reluctant to share details about a guest at Marshfield who had been murdered using the high-octane alcohol. “I have my sources.”

  Anton allowed a small grin. “The good news is that Gus loved the stuff. He thought it was hilarious whenever I was able to sneak it in under the nurses’ noses. I brought a new supply about once a month. We barely made a dent in the newest bottle. Just had a couple of shots, then hid it in his armoire.”

  “What’s the bad news?”

  “It’s missing.”

  “From Gus’s room?”

  Anton nodded. “I talked with Harland and Joslyn. They haven’t seen it. Neither has Dan. They said they looked through both armoires and it wasn’t there.”

  “Maybe the police confiscated it.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of. If they open the jar and figure out what it is, they’ll be after me in a heartbeat.”

  Maybe they should be, I thought. But what I said was, “I can understand your concern.”

  “I know you’re working with Frances’s attorney. Do you think there’s any way you could ask her if they found a jar of clear liquid about this size in Gus’s room?” He positioned his hands to indicate. “Not knowing is killing me.”

  A faint memory tickled my brain. “You said he hid it in the armoire?”

  “Yes,” he brightened. “Have you seen it?”

  “No, sorry.” Though Percy had talked about sharing scotch with Kyle, he’d never mentioned anything about illegal moonshine. “But I’ll make some discreet inquiries.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “You said two things. What else?” I asked.

  He pulled in a deep breath and blew it out. “Harland is deep in debt.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “Gus took a great deal of pride in his business acumen. Harland has no such talent. He and Joslyn have overspent and under saved. They’re facing retirement with nothing to show for it. Harland couldn’t bring himself to admit his failings to Gus. And, to be fair, Gus would have ridiculed him mercilessly. Several months ago, Harland came to me and asked to borrow a significant sum.”

  “You gave it to him?”

  Anton spread his hands. “I’ve known them since they were boys, remember? Harland promised that when his day came, he would pay it all back, with interest.”

  I thought about Tooney’s report that Harland and his wife had been pricing expensive cars. “And Harland now believes his day is here?”

  “I assume he does. But it isn’t,” Anton said. “Now that I’ve seen the will.”

  “He’s still entitled to half of that two-million-dollar policy.”

  “True,” Anton said. “But compared to the value of the estate, that’s pocket change.” He glanced around the Birdcage. The place was beginning to fill up. “I’ve taken too much of your time,” he said as he got to his feet. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve given me a lot to think about.” We made our way toward the mansion’s front doors. “Harland and Dan aren’t going to be happy when they get the news.”

  “They’ll come gunning for me, make no mistake. That’s another reason why I wanted to share this with you. Harland and Dan may try to pin Gus’s murder on me in the hopes of nullifying the will.”

  “And you wouldn’t like that at all, would you?”

  He caught the unspoken accusation in my words. “I’m a very wealthy man in my own right. I don’t need Gus’s money, and I honestly don’t even want it. When my friend first fell ill, he declined rapidly. I was sure we would lose him. But after he moved into Indwell, he rallied. Gus was a grumpy guy. Maybe the fact that he had more people there to torment gave him a reason to wake up every morning.” Anton chuckled. “Indwell is expensive, but it was worth every penny. If Gus had run out of money, I would have gladly shared my fortune to keep my friend happy and alive.”

  Despite myself, I was moved by Anton’s impassioned speech.

  “Remember,” he said, “Harland believed his father’s money was being wasted at Indwell. I’m not convinced Harland or Dan killed Gus, but if one of them did, I suspect it was because they sought to halt the financial bleed.”

  Before we parted at the front door, Anton grasped my shoulders and again followed with a quick kiss to each cheek. “You are a good friend to Frances. And now to Percy.” He winked at me. “I only hope I have been some small help.”

  I waved as he made his way down the front stairs to board the estate shuttle. The minute he was gone, I dragged my cell phone from my pocket. As I crossed Marshfield’s stately first floor, I dialed Bruce. His phone went directly to voice mail. “Hey, on second thought,” I said in a message, “don’t bother investigating Anton Holcroft for me, okay?” I debated a split second, then added, “Let me rephrase that: I’d rather you not contact Anton Holcroft at all.”

  I hung up and made my way to the staff stairway, then dialed Scott’s phone. It, too, went straight to voice mail. “I’m sure I’m being overly cautious here, but humor me, okay? I’d prefer it if you and Bruce do not get in contact with Anton Holcroft. At all. Something has come up. I’ll explain when I can. Call me.”

  Chapter 30

  I waited until I was back upstairs to place a third phone call. Frances followed me into my office. “What did Anton want? Who are you calling?”

  I held up a finger as the call connected. Voice mail, yet again. At least this time I knew why I wasn’t getting through. We were right in the middle of his office hours. “Joe,” I began after the beep, “was there anything in Gus’s autopsy report about his blood alcohol levels? Could ingesting liquor—specifically a high-alcohol-content liquor—have caused his death?”

  Part of me wanted to refer to our meet-up at Hugo’s the night before, but with Frances squinting at me, listening in, I thought better of it. “No rush. I know you’re busy. Call me when you can.”

  “The Mister had to leave for a meeting.” Frances nodded at the phone still in my hand. “But what’s up with the alcohol? Don’t tell me we’ve got another Dr. Keay situation here.”

  “Funny you should say that,” I said as I dropped into my chair. “Anton apparently kept Gus supplied with illegal moonshine.”

  “That’s what he came here to tell you?”

  “There’s more,” I said. “Have a seat.”

  I shared most of what Anton had told me, including his revelation about Gus’s will and Harland’s financial difficulties. What I didn’t share was my plan to corner Percy about the missing moonshine. I had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly where that jar was.

  * * *
>
  Joe returned my call later that afternoon. “What’s up?” he asked when I answered. “Why the questions about alcohol?”

  I told him.

  Almost as soon as I started explaining, Frances came into my office to listen in, making no secret of her eavesdropping. She leaned forward to stage-whisper, “Ask him if it could kill Gus the way it killed Dr. Keay.”

  I shook my head. We already knew the answer to that. Of course it could.

  “First of all, the direct answer to your question is no,” Joe said. “I didn’t note the victim’s blood alcohol level. I wasn’t looking for that. I’ll do so as soon as I can.”

  “I know it’s a long shot,” I said.

  “Maybe Anton added a little something to the moonshine,” Frances stage-whispered again, this time louder. “Maybe that’s why he wants you to find the jar. Because he poisoned Gus.”

  The same thought had occurred to me when Anton had first mentioned the moonshine, but I hadn’t wanted to get Frances’s hopes up.

  “Ask him,” Frances said none too quietly.

  Joe gave a soft laugh. “Tell her I can hear every word she says. And, of course there’s a chance Anton slipped Gus a deadly cocktail. But we won’t know for sure until the screening is complete.”

  Frances inched closer, insinuating herself into our conversation. “If only we knew where that jar was,” she said. “We could have it tested ourselves.”

  “The police may be testing it even as we speak,” I said.

  “I think we would have heard about it by now.” She narrowed her eyes at me.

  “I agree with Frances,” Joe said. “It’s either still at Indwell, or one of the sons has it stashed away.”

  We talked a little longer and when we hung up, Frances was still glaring. “You know where the jar is, don’t you?”

  I still had no intention of telling her my plan to corner Percy. “I don’t know anything.”

  “But you have an idea.”

  “All I have is a hunch,” I said. “I’ll zip out to Indwell tomorrow and see what turns up.”

  “Hmph,” she said.

  * * *

  For the second day in a row, the house was silent when I arrived home after work even though both my roommates’ cars were in the driveway. After greeting Bootsie, I opened the basement door and called down, “Guys?” No answer. “Bruce? Scott?”

  Turning on lights as I moved through the house, I stood at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the bedroom level and called my roommates’ names again.

  Back in the kitchen, I searched around for a note. Finding none, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed.

  Scott answered on the first ring. “Is that you, Grace?” he asked. His words were slurred. “Where are you?”

  “Home,” I said. “Where are you? Where’s Bruce?”

  “He’s here. We’re both here.”

  “Are you drunk?”

  “Nah,” he said. “Okay, maybe a little bit. Your friend Anton is a great guy.” I could tell he pulled the phone away from his ear. I could picture him holding it out. “You want to talk to Grace?”

  In the background, Anton demurred. “I already have bothered her too much today.”

  They were with Anton? Right now?

  I called Scott’s name twice before he returned to the phone. “Where are you?” I asked.

  He hung up.

  Hands shaking, I dialed Bruce. “Hey, Grace,” he said sounding a lot less tipsy than his partner had. “What, did Scott cut you off?”

  “Didn’t you get my message?” I asked.

  “Message?” he asked.

  It didn’t matter. “Where are you?”

  “Hugo’s,” he said.

  I breathed my relief.

  “We spent just about the entire afternoon here with Anton,” Bruce went on. “He says he’d be happy to help us set up the restaurant. Can you believe it? He’s bought lots of property before and knows everything about converting places into restaurants. And he likes us. I think we’re going to work really well together. Isn’t that great?”

  “Yeah,” I said through clenched teeth. “When are you coming home?”

  “We were just about to leave. Anton said he’d drive us back.”

  “No,” I shouted. “I’ll come get you.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Grace,” Bruce said.

  “I want to drive past the Granite Building and take a look at it on the way back. It will be so much better if you two are with me. Plus, if you’ve all been drinking, he shouldn’t be driving.”

  “He’s got a driver, I think, but okay.” I could practically see him shrug. “Grace is coming to get us,” he said away from the phone.

  “I’m leaving right now,” I said. “Don’t move until I get there.”

  Bruce laughed. “You’re acting really strange tonight, Grace.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Just stay there, okay?”

  I picked them up outside of Hugo’s without incident. Anton, they said, was still inside, buying rounds for other patrons and making new friends.

  “I thought you wanted to drive past the Granite Building,” Bruce said when I took the turn that led home.

  “Another time, maybe,” I said. “My nerves are shot tonight.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  From the backseat, Scott held up his phone. “Hey, I got a missed call from you this morning, Grace. What did you need?”

  I shook my head. “Let me get you both home. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

  Bruce grinned and nodded, looking like a cheery bobble-head. “Thanks for the idea about contacting Anton. As soon as he found out we were your roommates, he couldn’t do enough for us.”

  I rubbed my forehead. Anton’s visit to Marshfield this morning may have been as innocent as he’d claimed. But I’d suffered too many close calls in the past to take chances.

  “Can’t wait until we get to hang out with him again,” Scott said as he played my voice mail message on speakerphone.

  The two men stared at me when my directive was complete. “Why didn’t you want us to meet him today?” Bruce asked. “What happened?”

  Scott leaned forward. “You sound really upset.”

  Both hands gripping the steering wheel, I made the final, tight turn onto our driveway. “I’m sure he’s a wonderful resource but until this business at Indwell is settled, I’d like you both to stay clear of him.”

  I threw the car into Park.

  “Okay?” I asked.

  Bruce studied me. “Yeah. Okay.”

  “Scott?” I asked.

  He sat back and wrinkled his nose. “Am I going to remember this tomorrow?”

  “I’ll remind you,” I said.

  Chapter 31

  I did, indeed, remind Bruce and Scott the next morning about avoiding Anton. I mentioned my concerns more than once because, even though both men were up early enough to join me for coffee, I had my doubts that Scott was fully awake.

  “It was a good night last night,” he said. With both hands wrapped around his mug, he stared out across the quiet kitchen as though reliving the evening.

  “I don’t understand what’s got you worried,” Bruce said after I’d explained a second time Anton’s visit to Marshfield. “Nothing he told you makes him seem particularly guilty. Besides, he doesn’t strike me as the murderous type.”

  “They never do,” I said solemnly. “I know I’m overreacting and, the truth is, I don’t believe Anton killed Gus, either. But we’ve all been involved in too many close calls over the years to take chances.”

  Scott zoned back in. “That’s true.”

  “If he calls, put him off for a few days, all right? At least until the final lab results come in and we find out, once and for all, if Gus died a natural death.”

&n
bsp; “You got it, Grace,” Bruce said. “But what about you? Are you being careful?”

  I nodded. “I asked Tooney to find me whatever he can on Anton. In the meantime, I need to talk with Percy. I think he may be able to shed light on the whereabouts of that moonshine. I’d like to know what else he may be hiding.”

  * * *

  The drive to Indwell seemed to be getting shorter with each visit. Maybe because, after so many trips in so few days, I no longer needed to pay close attention to road signs.

  When I knocked at Percy and Kyle’s apartment and received no answer, I headed for the nurses’ station down the hall. Maybe, if I asked nicely, they’d use Percy’s locator bracelet to find out where he was.

  A nurse I’d never met before, dressed in typical staff scrubs, was in such close consultation with Debbie and Cathy that none of three noticed my approach. They were all huddled around a trifold brochure laid open on the desk. When Debbie pointed, the unfamiliar nurse gave a gasp of surprise. Cathy grinned, as though she’d scored the exact reaction she’d expected.

  When I cleared my throat, all three looked up.

  “Hi.” I pointed over my shoulder. “Do any of you happen to know where Percy is right now?”

  Cathy patted the unfamiliar nurse’s arm. “That’s Grace. Frances’s friend.”

  Debbie seemed puzzled. “We heard Frances was released on bail,” she said. “We didn’t expect to see you.”

  “Just following up on a new development.”

  “Oh?” Debbie’s interest was clearly piqued. “What happened?”

  I wasn’t about to mention Anton’s moonshine to staff members. “Nothing major.”

  The nurse asked, “Did you really solve a bunch of murders in Emberstowne? Is that why you’re here? Because you’re trying to solve Gus’s murder now?”

  Put on the spot, I demurred. “I’m only here to help.”