by Jessica Beck
“Was the collector killed during the crime?” Grace asked.
“Not directly, but his only living relative, a son unexpectedly visiting him at the time, was shot as the thieves escaped. In a way, the owner was killed at that moment too, because when he discovered the theft and saw his son dead on the floor, he had a heart attack and died instantly. It wasn’t technically during the commission of the crime, but they might as well have put a gun to the man’s heart and pulled the trigger.”
“How awful,” I said.
“The thieves were clever,” the chief continued. “Instead of trying to sell the artwork on the open market, they negotiated with the insurance company for twenty-five percent of the artwork’s overall value in exchange for its safe return.”
“The insurance company actually negotiated with the thieves?” I asked incredulously.
“It happens more than you might imagine,” Chief Grant said. “The amount they paid to get the artwork back was one and a half million dollars, deposited in an offshore bank account upon the safe return of the artwork.”
“Half a million apiece was a pretty good haul back then,” I said. “But that was twenty years ago. Why would someone kill Gray for it now? Surely he didn’t have anything like that when he died.”
“No, he didn’t, but he wasn’t exactly broke, either,” the chief said. “When I questioned Donald Rand earlier, he told me that Gray had just liquidated half his portfolio a few days before he died. He was planning on leaving town, and he didn’t want Rand handling his money anymore. Rand convinced him to do it in two chunks instead of all at once. He said it had something to do with tax ramifications, but I had a feeling that he wasn’t ready to give up control of all of it at once.”
“What did he do with the money he received?” I asked.
The chief smiled. “That’s an excellent question. Gray made two hundred thousand dollars from the first half of the liquidation, and he took it all directly in cash. Rand was fussing about having to carry around that much money, but it all fit into a briefcase, and that’s how Gray walked out of the office with it. The problem is, the cash has disappeared, and no one knows what happened to it.”
I whistled softly under my breath. “Two hundred thousand dollars in cash is certainly a motive for murder in some circles. Do you think someone local found out about the money and killed him for it?”
“It’s possible, but I’m working off another possibility at the moment. One of his suspected partners in the crime died last week, but not before leaving some pretty incriminating clues behind.”
“Do you think the third partner tracked Gray here to April Springs?” I asked.
“At this point it’s all supposition, but it makes sense. Have either of you seen this man around town lately? He’s currently going by the name of Mickey Wright. Supposedly, he was the one who shot the collector’s son during the heist.” The chief pulled out an old mug shot, and a more recent image to go along with it.
I barely had to glance at it. It was the same man who’d been asking me about Gray earlier, the man Grace and I had accosted at my cottage earlier. “He’s here in town. I don’t know what his name is, but he’s been asking around about Gray.”
“What? And you didn’t think that was important enough to mention it to me?”
“We tried,” I said, “but you’ve been tied up with that wreck, and then we sort of got sidetracked. We weren’t keeping it from you.”
The police chief was still frowning as he asked, “Where exactly did you see him last?”
“He was trying to eavesdrop on our conversation with Gladys Murphy in the park today,” Grace told him.
“You didn’t confront him, did you?” the chief asked softly. “Please tell me at least that much.”
“I wish we could, but how were we supposed to know that he was a bad guy?” I asked. After I brought him up to date on our conversation at my cottage, I said, “In our defense, we called you right away, but you were dealing with your own problems. When he left the park, he wasn’t too happy with either one of us.”
“This is bad, isn’t it?” Grace asked.
“Do you think?” the chief asked sarcastically. “He’s a suspected killer, and you two have gone out of your way to antagonize him. In what world could that be considered good?”
“My question is if Wright killed Gray for his money, why is he still hanging around here?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Grace asked.
“He clearly didn’t get the cash, or he would have already taken off. Either Gray hid it and wouldn’t divulge where it was, or someone else beat Mickey Wright to the punch.”
“This man is a pro,” the chief said. “I don’t think he would kill Gray without getting the money first.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Gray was stabbed only once, and there were no other signs that he’d been hurt before that happened. That tells me that either he gave the money up quickly in an effort to save his own life, or someone got a little too eager and killed him before they had their hands on the cash.”
“So, it doesn’t make sense that Mickey Wright would keep hanging around if he already got the money,” I said.
“Not unless he thought there was more cash that he could get his hands on,” the chief said.
“He couldn’t get access to Gray’s account with Rand, could he?” I asked.
“I don’t see how, but that doesn’t mean that he believed Gray if he told him the two hundred thousand was all that he had,” the chief answered. “Either way, I’ve got a hunch that Mickey Wright is the key to this mess, and I plan on finding him and then sweating the truth out of him.”
Grace frowned when he said that. “Be careful, Stephen. If you’re right, he’s already killed at least two people that we know of, and I doubt he’s the kind of guy to let a cop stop him from looking for that money.”
“Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself,” the chief said.
“I’m not saying that you can’t, but you still need to treat him like some kind of venomous snake.”
“He’s worse than that,” the chief said. “After all, the snake is just doing what it was meant to do. This guy chose to be a thief and a killer.”
“So, where do we come in?” I asked him. As much as I appreciated him sharing information with us, I knew that there was a price we were going to be asked to pay. “You’re not asking us to bow out now, are you?”
“No, I know better than that,” he said with a wry smile. “Just concentrate on the folks who live around here and focus on the present; leave the past and Mr. Wright to me.”
“We can do that,” I said. I wasn’t about to remind him that if someone in town had stolen two hundred thousand dollars, they might kill to keep it. I stood and said, “Thanks for sharing this with us.”
“I’m glad we could have this little unofficial, informal chat,” he said. “Just between the three of us, I’m going to lock this town down tight until I find Mickey Wright, but until I do, stick together, will you?”
“We will,” I promised.
“Well, I’ve got to get back out there. May I make a suggestion before I go?”
I shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” That didn’t mean that I was necessarily going to follow it, but I didn’t see any reason to share that with him.
“Why don’t you two have a slumber party tonight over here? Jake’s out of town, and I’m going to be tied up most of the night. I’d sleep better if I knew that you two were together.”
“Why not at the cottage?” I asked, and then I realized what his answer would be. “Strike that. Wright saw us there, and I admitted it was my place, so if he decides to come after either one of us, that’s where he’s going to look. It doesn’t mean that he can’t find Grace’s house, though. After all, it’s
not that far down the street from me.”
“Just indulge me this once, would you?” the chief asked.
“Fine. I’m game if you are,” I told Grace. I’d stayed there a few times in the past, though we normally had our sleepovers at my place.
“It will be nice hosting you for a change,” she said.
“Then it’s settled,” the chief said. “Suzanne, if you need anything from your house, I’ll drive you over there and go inside with you.”
“Do you really think that’s necessary?” I asked him. The chief was clearly spooked by what was going on. I was taking it all very seriously, but evidently not as much as he was.
“Just humor me, okay? Can you imagine what Jake would do to me if something happened to you on my watch?”
He was right. “Okay. I’ll be quick about it.” I turned to Grace. “Are you coming with us?”
“No, you two go on. I’ve got to get the guestroom ready, and then I need to make a few quick phone calls.”
“I’m not inconveniencing you, am I?” I asked.
She hugged me in reply. “Are you kidding? I’m glad Stephen suggested it. I’ll see you soon.”
Though the chief offered me a ride in his squad car, I decided to take the Jeep for the short drive to my cottage. After all, if I was hiding out from the killer, it wouldn’t do for him to spot my vehicle in front of Grace’s place on the off chance that Chief Grant was right. Personally, I had a feeling that Wright was long gone, but it wasn’t exactly going to be a hardship staying overnight with my best friend, so I went along with it. I grabbed a few things and stuffed them into an overnight bag, but only after the chief did a thorough inspection of the cottage. I was glad I hadn’t allowed myself to be messy with Jake’s absence.
“I’ll take that ride now,” I said as I headed for his car with him.
“That’s smart thinking,” the chief said.
“I get a good idea every now and then,” I replied with a grin. I’d been a fan of the man’s since he’d been a new cop on the force. He’d come by the donut shop enough for us to become friends over the years, and when he’d started dating Grace, we’d grown even closer. He was quite a bit younger than we were, but it was funny how that mattered less and less the older I got.
We rode the short distance back to Grace’s, and as I got out, I said, “Thanks again.”
“For the information, or the chauffeur service?”
“For both of those things, and for looking out for us, too,” I said.
“My pleasure,” he said.
I closed his door, and he drove away.
Swinging my bag, I walked up the steps and joined Grace inside.
Chapter 12
I found Grace in the kitchen. “You’re not cooking, are you?” I asked her with a grin. My best friend was many things, but a gourmet chef wasn’t among them.
“I thought I might whip something up for us,” she said as she frowned, staring blankly into one of her nearly empty cupboards.
“We could always call out for a pizza,” I suggested.
“We could, but is there any reason we shouldn’t go to Napoli’s?”
“The chief was pretty clear that he wanted us both here,” I reminded her.
“I took that to mean later tonight. We’ve got loads of time until we go to sleep, and he didn’t say a word about us not going out of town for a quick bite. What do you say?”
I liked the local pizza enough to get it every now and then, but it was no match for Angelica DeAngelis and her girls in Union Square. “I’m in, but you’re going to have to drive, unless you want to walk up the street and get my Jeep.”
“Let’s take my car. I can drop off some samples in Union Square, so no one’s going to have a problem with me driving my company vehicle.”
“It’s a deal,” I said. “Are you going to at least call the chief and tell him what we’re planning to do?”
She grinned impishly at me. “I’m way ahead of you. I already did.”
“You kind of took my willingness to go to Napoli’s for granted, didn’t you?” I asked her with a smile of my own.
“Seriously, what are the odds that you would say no to that offer?”
“Somewhere between slim and none,” I admitted. “Let’s go.”
As we drove, I asked her, “Can I ask you something? Do you think Mickey Wright could have killed Gray?”
“I don’t,” she said. “If he had disappeared right after the murder and the cash was missing, I would have put some serious money on it, but I can’t see him killing Gray without getting the cash first, can you? And if he’s not sticking around to look for the money, why else would he still be here?”
“I have no idea,” I said, feeling sorry for my friend dying the way he had, despite what he might have done twenty years ago. “Maybe there’s more to it than that. I know what the chief said, but is there a chance Mickey Wright killed Gray in a fit of rage, maybe for some past sin we don’t know about?”
“Does Wright seem like that kind of guy to you?” Grace asked me.
“No, not really. He was pretty cold and calculating when we cornered him at the cottage,” I answered.
“So then, we’re going to keep working off the premise that it was most likely someone from his present and not his past.”
“It seems that way to me. Barry could have done it, if the mailman found out about the cash.”
“Who knows?” Grace asked. “Maybe he snooped into the wrong piece of mail and realized that Gray had a lot more money than he seemed to.”
“It had to be more than that, though,” I said. “It’s frustrating only knowing some of what we need to know.” I could see Barry possibly killing someone for the money, but only if he could justify it by knowing something the victim had done in his past.
“What about Donald Rand?” Grace asked me.
“If he was changing that beneficiary form to favor himself, I can see it happening with no problem whatsoever. He probably felt as though he’d already let half the money slip through his fingers, and let’s not forget, he’s the only person we know for sure who was aware of the fact that Gray had a great deal of cash on him all of a sudden.”
“Let’s look at it from the opposite angle. What if Gray told Gladys that she was going to get everything? After all, they were extremely close. She might not have known that Gray hadn’t officially changed the paperwork yet.”
“Can you seriously see that sweet old cook killing someone for cold, hard cash, Grace?”
“Suzanne, we’ve seen it before. Money can bring out the best in people, but it usually acts just the opposite. If she were desperate for cash, she might not have felt as though she had any choice.”
“We need to talk to Trish,” I said, hating myself for saying it even as the words left my lips.
“Do you really think she’s going to help us hang someone on her staff? I know that Trish is like family to both of us, but the two women who cook for her are like substitute mothers. She’s not going to throw either one of them under the bus, not even for us.”
“Not knowingly,” I said in agreement.
Grace risked a quick glance in my direction. “Seriously? You’re going to take a chance of ruining our friendship with Trish over this?”
“I’m not saying we do anything over the top. Let’s just have a conversation with her. What can that hurt?”
“I don’t even want to think about it. Do you mean right now? Before we even eat?” Grace asked, clearly unhappy about the immediate prospect of cornering our old friend.
“Not on empty stomachs,” I said. “It can wait until after we eat.”
“That’s the spirit,” Grace replied, clearly relieved about delaying the confrontation. “Who knows? Maybe while we’re dining on fine Italian cuisine, s
omething else will come up in the meantime.”
“Do you really think it might?”
“No, but it’s not too much to hope for,” she said. “Besides, we’ll be at Napoli’s in ten minutes. All I want to focus on right now is my empty belly.”
I wasn’t sure we were going to be able to satisfy our hunger when we got there. The strip mall where the restaurant was located didn’t have a single parking space available. As Grace circled around yet again searching for a free spot, she asked in dismay, “Do you think everyone is here for dinner?”
I shook my head as I pointed to a sign close to the restaurant. “Unless I miss my guess, that’s the reason for the traffic jam.” A shop two doors down from Napoli’s was clearly where all of the people were. A banner out front proclaimed that the place was going out of business, and that prices had been slashed ruthlessly. It appeared to offer a variety of things, from dishware to towels to who knew what else. We lucked out when a woman in a Cadillac built sometime in the seventies pulled out and nearly clipped the bumper of the car across from it. Grace snaked her car into the spot, to the chagrin of two other drivers hovering nearby.
“I love winning,” she said with a broad grin as we got out.
“Even a parking spot?”
“Even that. These days I’ll take what I can get.”
“Are we dropping those samples off on the way back home?” I asked her.
“Whoops. They’re already closed. I’ll have to come back another time.” It was clear she’d known they would be all along. I just laughed. Grace never failed to make the system work for her whenever she could.
We walked in and found Maria standing idly by at the front door. “It’s so nice to see friendly faces,” she said as she showed us to a table. There were only a few other diners there, and the place had a somber quality to it that I hadn’t seen before. “I’ll go get Mom.”
