by Jessica Beck
I considered pulling over to comfort her, but then I realized that the best thing I could do for her was to get her safely back home. Once she was there, she could continue to mourn her former boss and benefactor in solitude if that was what she wanted.
As I parked in her driveway, I asked her, “Would you like us to come in for a minute?”
Robin frowned for a second before she spoke. “I know I’m probably being ridiculous, but I’d sleep a lot better if you both went through the place one more time, just to make sure that no one is there.”
Pat and I were getting to be her regular security team, but I couldn’t begrudge her request. After he joined us, the three of us went inside and made quick work of the inspection. As far as I could tell, nothing had changed since the last time we’d been there so recently.
“Thanks again,” Robin said as she saw us out.
“Hang on a second,” I said, remembering something.
“What’s wrong?” She looked quite alarmed by my request.
“You might need these,” I said as I handed her keys to her. I’d held on to them out of habit after unlocking the front door for her, and she took them from me gratefully. “Thanks again.”
“You’re very welcome. Don’t forget to call Kathleen if you get scared tonight.” I’d been about to tell her to call me, but I didn’t want to be up all night. After all, I’d had a long day myself.
“I will,” she said, and again we heard the deadbolt fasten behind us the moment the door closed.
“That was pretty slick,” Pat said as he handed my keys back to me.
“What are you talking about?”
“You got to talk to Robin on the drive over,” he said. “Did you find anything out that we didn’t know before?”
“No. Actually, she was kind of weepy,” I said. “Pat, I wasn’t trying to outflank you. I just thought she might feel a little more at ease being with another woman.”
“You’re probably right,” my brother said as he nodded in agreement. “That was considerate of you, especially after just losing a fortune to her.”
“How could I have lost it? It was never mine in the first place,” I said. “I still can’t believe he left me the land.”
“I know. Timothy had his flaws, but don’t we all? In the end, he was a stand-up guy.”
“Did you notice one conspicuous absence in the last will?” I asked him.
“You don’t mean Mick, do you?”
“No, I doubt Timothy would have left his older brother a bucket of water if he’d been on fire. I’m talking about Jenna.”
Pat shook his head. “Annie, they had a completely different relationship than the two of you did. You were friends with Timothy long before you two ever dated. He and Jenna were more of a flash in the pan.”
“A flash he’d once considered the love of his life,” I reminded him.
“I wonder,” Pat said softly as I drove us back to the Iron.
“About what?”
“Could Jenna have believed that she was his beneficiary, since they were dating? It’s possible, isn’t it?”
“Pat, I know you aren’t all that happy with your ex-girlfriend, but she’s got a thriving business as a vet. She doesn’t need money, certainly not enough to kill for.”
“But how do we know that for sure?” Pat asked me. “How do we know that her business is all that successful? For all we know, she could be up to her eyebrows in debt. Killing Timothy may have seemed like the only way out, especially if she suspected she’d inherit his money if he died.”
“Wow, that’s kind of dark, even for you. Do you honestly think that little of her, Pat? I thought you loved her, at least once upon a time.”
“I’m not sure I even know what love is anymore,” my brother said sadly. I knew that he’d been devastated when he’d lost Molly, and having Jenna break up with him hadn’t made things any easier, but I still had hope that one day he’d find his true love, whether it was Molly or someone else, and what was more, I held the same hope out for myself and our older sister.
“Are you really that cynical these days?” I asked him as we pulled up in front of the Iron.
“I don’t know. Maybe. No. Probably not. It’s just been a long day, hasn’t it?”
“And unfortunately, it’s not over yet,” I told him.
“What do you mean, Annie? I figured you were dropping me off so I could go to bed and you could head back to your cabin, unless you want to stay with me here again.”
“As much as I appreciate the offer, there’s no bed like mine, and no home like the one I have. It’s just that I’m not going to be there for a while. We need to call Kathleen and show her everything we found this evening. It was our deal, and I’m sticking to it.”
“You’re right,” Pat said with a sigh. “I can’t believe this, but I’m getting hungry again. Is there any chance you could whip something up for us while we’re waiting on Kathleen?”
“I don’t see why not,” I said. “It can’t be anything all that complicated, though. What did you have in mind?”
He smiled at me, a sight I was happy to see after his temporary depression about being alone. “It’s pumpkin season, isn’t it? How about some waffles?”
I had to laugh. “Don’t you ever get tired of them?”
“The ones you make? Not a chance.”
“Okay. I’m on it. I’ll get started, and you can call our big sister.”
“Why do I have the sudden feeling that you’re getting the better part of the deal?” he asked me.
“Maybe because the worst thing that can happen to me is that I can get burned by a waffle iron. That’s a lot better than what might happen to you. Make the call.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Pat said.
As he spoke with our older sister, I started gathering the ingredients I needed for pumpkin waffles. Fortunately I had everything on hand, since I’d been making them since early September. Getting out three of my antique waffle irons, two Wagners and one that didn’t have a name that I’d ever been able to find, I set them up as I turned on the gas burners on my stovetop. By the time they all heated up, I’d be ready to start cranking out the delightful treats. I decided to make a quarter of my normal recipe for the three of us; it would leave us with plenty of leftovers unless we were all hungrier than I could imagine, and I figured I could get around twelve large waffles out of the mix. That would be plenty, since they were more filling than standard fare with the added eggs and oats. On the counter, I laid out the waffle mix I used as a base, canned pumpkin, cinnamon, nutmeg, instant oats, vanilla, oil, and eggs. After incorporating them all together, I waited two minutes for the ingredients to rest, and then I was ready to get started making waffles. Some people might have considered it cheating that I used a ready-made mix as my base, but I figured with all of the enhancements I added, it was unique in and of itself. After that, it was simply a matter of adding batter to the irons after spraying them with some nonstick spray, adding a little over half a cup of batter to each iron, and then waiting two minutes before I turned them to give the other side a minute and a half to finish off. My irons didn’t produce as consistently uniform waffles as a modern iron would have, but I enjoyed using the old ways whenever I could, and this was certainly one of those times.
“She’s on her way,” Pat said as he grabbed one of the first hot waffles ready after setting three places—plates, silverware, and glasses—and adding butter and syrup to the counter as well.
“We need to get someone in to look at the big fridge unit,” I told Pat as I kept producing more waffles. “It’s on the fritz again.”
“I can call someone tomorrow,” my brother said, talking with his mouth nearly full of waffle.
“That might be too late. Somebody needs to check on it during the night to make su
re it’s still working.”
“I have a hunch who that someone will be,” Pat said with a shrug. “What can I do if it stops?”
“Jiggle this”—I showed him—“and give it a good rap right here.” I demonstrated.
“And that fixes it?” he asked incredulously.
“No, but it usually starts working again after I do that,” I answered with a smile. “Promise me you’ll check on it tonight.”
“I promise,” he said. “I should at least get another waffle for getting up in the middle of the night.”
“Fine by me. Here you go,” I said as I put a fresh one on his plate.
Kathleen came in frowning, but she smiled as soon as she got a whiff of the air. “Pumpkin pancakes. My favorite.”
“Actually, they are waffles,” I said with a smile of my own.
“Let me restate that. Pancake waffles. My favorite.”
“You were late, so we waited,” Pat said with a grin, and then he jammed a large section of waffle into his mouth, letting a little butter and syrup run down his chin in the process.
“You always were a true gentleman,” Kathleen said as she took a seat at the counter beside our brother. “I’ll wait for you, Annie, even if he won’t.”
“You have my blessing to go ahead,” I said as I put a hot waffle on her plate. “They’re better when they’re hot.”
“I think they’re good all of the time,” Pat said as he tried to commandeer Kathleen’s waffle.
She was too fast for him, though. Her fork blocked his perfectly, and Pat shrugged and gave up. “There’s always the next batch.”
“Yes, there is,” Kathleen said as she doctored her waffle and took a large bite. “This is amazing. My compliments to the chef.”
“The chef thanks you,” I said with a grin, happy to have my immediate family together, no matter the circumstances. “Should we tell you what we found now or wait until after we’ve eaten?”
“Let’s wait,” Kathleen said. “I’d like to enjoy these as long as they last.”
“Agreed,” I said as I reloaded the three irons. By the time I was out of batter, we’d all eaten our fill of waffles, and we still had four large waffles left over. Frankly, I’d been amazed by how much we’d managed to eat between the three of us.
As I started to clean up, Pat and Kathleen moved the dishes over into the sink and wiped the counter down.
After Pat dried it, he asked, “Do we still have to wait for Annie to finish?”
“I can add to the conversation just fine from over here,” I said. “Go ahead and spread things out on the countertop so we can bring Kathleen up to date on what we found.”
“I appreciate the food, and the call,” our sister said as she stifled a yawn.
“Do you want to catch a quick nap upstairs before we get started?” Pat asked her. “I have a perfectly good couch up there, or you could even take the bed, if you’d like.”
“I appreciate the offer, but if I lie down for two minutes, I won’t wake up until morning. Let’s go ahead and get started.”
“As you wish,” he said, and then he began to lay things out in piles so our findings would be easier to explain.
Chapter 15: Pat
“Wow, you two have been busy,” Kathleen said as she surveyed all of our finds. “Where was all of this?”
“We found it all in a file cabinet in Timothy’s closet,” I said. “We never would have known where to look if we hadn’t spoken to Robin. She’s been really helpful to us so far.”
“Let’s go through it step by step,” our sister suggested.
Annie reached for the first pile, which happened to include Timothy’s father’s will and the letter from Mick’s attorney. “It turns out that Mick managed to write himself out of his dad’s will,” she said as she read the clause as well as the letter.
“Do you think he knew about the conditions beforehand?” Kathleen asked us.
“I can’t imagine anyone being that stupid,” I said.
Annie interjected, “You don’t know Mick that well, though. He might have been under the mistaken impression that he could bulldoze Timothy like he did when they were younger. Timothy wouldn’t have put up with it as an adult, though.”
“So let me get this straight. Is it your belief that Mick realized he wouldn’t be able to bully his brother with a letter from an attorney, and he knew that he’d made a huge mistake trying? That would mean that his only option was to kill his brother and then break into his office, steal the will and the letter, and then file it with the state so he could collect both shares of the inheritance.”
“It’s one scenario we’re considering,” I said.
“But just one,” Annie added. “Look at this.”
She handed Kathleen the typed sheet we’d found in the folder accusing Viv of being unbalanced, delusional, and in possession of a demonic temper. I also pointed out the section that claimed Gordon was doing something illegal that Timothy wouldn’t be a part of and that he was afraid of the man’s volatility as well as his dark connections. “Why would he create a document like this?” Kathleen asked as she tapped the sheet with her finger.
“I’m guessing that he wrote things out to help him plan out his next moves,” I suggested. “Did you ever see any evidence of him doing anything like this when you two were together?” I asked Annie.
“No, but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t do it in his office. Timothy was pretty private about his work. He didn’t like to talk about it, and in particular, any discussion about his clientele was strictly off limits.”
Kathleen nodded as she moved on to the next group. “What’s this?” she asked as she picked up the note that went back and forth from Timothy to Robin.
“That’s not really part of the case,” Annie said. “We thought Robin might like to have it once we showed it to you. It helps explain why Timothy left her everything.” She handed Kathleen the last will we’d found, and the sheriff read it with interest.
“Nearly everything,” Kathleen corrected her as she pointed to the document. “It appears that you at least get some land, Annie.”
“It was sweet of him to do it. I certainly wasn’t expecting it.”
“I think it’s nice, too,” Kathleen said.
“Is there any risk that folks are going to think it gives you a motive to kill Timothy?” I asked her.
“I don’t see how. That land isn’t worth much without the cabin,” Annie protested. “Besides, if I wanted to inherit enough to make it worth my while, would I have burned the cabin down?”
“While it may be true, it’s not exactly an argument you can make in public,” I said.
“Let people talk if they make up their minds to,” Annie answered. “I’m not going to let it bother me one way or the other.”
“Good for you,” Kathleen said. “If anything, this gives Robin some incentive to do away with her boss. Is there anything that might make you want to take her off of your list?”
“Nothing specific, though the note shows some real affection between the two of them,” I said. “How about you, Annie?”
“She stays until we find something else out that clears her.”
Kathleen frowned in thought for a moment before asking, “I’m curious about something. Was she surprised by the contents of the new will?”
“She nearly fainted,” I said.
“Nearly, but not quite,” Annie replied.
“Do you think she was faking it?” I asked her.
“I honestly couldn’t say. I’m afraid at this point that I’m having trouble trusting my instincts. I don’t believe anyone, even Jenna.”
“Why not Jenna?” Kathleen asked her.
“When we went by her place to speak with her, she was having a bit of a fire outside,�
� I explained.
“Nothing wrong with that. It was a bit chilly today.”
“She wasn’t burning wood, though,” Annie explained.
“Then what was she burning?”
“Mostly old paperwork,” I answered. “She claimed that it was all old business information, but Annie said that she could swear that she saw a card in the flames with Timothy’s handwriting on it.”
“It’s true,” my twin sister said. “I’m not sure why she would burn that.”
“Maybe she couldn’t take having any memories of him around anymore,” I suggested.
“Or maybe she has a guilty conscience about what she did to him,” Kathleen said.
“Do you think she might have actually done it?” I asked her. It didn’t match the woman I’d dated, but then again, how well did I really know her?
“Anything’s possible. That’s all I can say after all of my years on the job. Do you mind if I take all of this with me?”
I suddenly realized that there was something I’d forgotten to do. “Would I be out of line if I asked you if we could make copies of everything for ourselves first?”
Kathleen was about to protest, but after a moment of internal struggle, she shrugged. “Why stop now? I’ve got to give you credit for at least asking me first this time.”
“Don’t give us too much,” Annie said with a grin as she gathered the papers up. “We didn’t have a great deal of time before you got here, and to be honest with you, it kind of slipped our minds.”
“Just go do it, and be quick about it,” Kathleen said good-naturedly. “If I weren’t so full right now, I might protest, but don’t push your luck.”
“I’ll be back in a flash,” she said.
Once she was gone, Kathleen said softly, “Annie’s doing a little better, isn’t she?”
“She’s rattled, there’s no doubt about it, but I think she’s starting to get a handle on things,” I said, feeling a bit like a traitor tattling on my twin sister. I knew Kathleen’s question had come from a good place, but I still didn’t like to tell tales out of school on Annie. “What can I say? She’s coping. I asked her to stay here with me again tonight, but she turned me down.”
