“Because if somebody gave your father those cookies on purpose, they had to have had a motive.”
Silence. Crickets.
Faith padded over and pushed her muzzle into my free hand. I patted my lap, and she jumped the front half of her body onto my legs. I slipped my fingers under her throat and began to scratch her chin.
“You mean money,” Libby said after a minute.
I would have thought that was assumed, but apparently not.
“Yes, money,” I replied patiently. “Where did it go?”
“My father provided vital support for a number of important charities. He also served on the boards of several philanthropic foundations. He strongly believed that it was his duty to leave the world a better place than he’d found it.”
Really? That was her answer? It sounded as though she was quoting from a press release. And not in a helpful way.
“Right.” If I hadn’t made myself clear previously, I had every intention of doing so now. “Do you think that a charitable foundation sent someone to kill your father for his money?”
“Of course not,” Libby shot back. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“So let’s try looking a little closer to home, okay? What did the family members inherit? I don’t need specific numbers, just a general idea.”
“We got money too. I guess you could call it a lot of money.”
That was what I’d figured. “You’re talking about Leo Brody’s children?”
“That’s right,” she confirmed.
“What about the grandchildren?”
“There are trusts set up for them. They’ll come into their money later. Not a huge amount because they’ll also inherit through their parents.”
“And the ex-wives?”
“What about them?” Libby sounded surprised.
“Did they inherit anything?”
“Certainly not. They left the family. They’re not part of Us anymore.”
That’s right. Us had a capital letter. Kind of like the Royal We.
“Anyone else?” I asked.
“Isn’t that enough?” The snippy tone was back.
“If you say so,” I told her. “I’m just trying to get things clear in my mind.”
“Then let me clarify something else for you. I’m uncomfortable sharing private family business. And frankly I don’t see how this discussion is helpful at all. If inheritance was a factor in my father’s death, the entire family shared the same motive.”
“Yes,” I said. “But they don’t all share the same needs.”
We both thought about that for a bit before Libby broke the silence grudgingly. “I guess there’s something else you should know. My father had been thinking about changing his will.”
“In whose favor?”
“Not the family. His intention was to leave more of his assets to places where he felt they could do the most good. You know, like globally.”
“Was that a recent change of heart on your father’s part?” I asked.
“He’d been talking about it for a few months.”
“Who else besides you knew about that?”
The question made Libby laugh. “Everybody. When Leo Brody got an idea, he shared it with the world. There were articles on the Forbes website and Huff Post. ‘Noted philanthropist urges others to follow his lead . . .’ That kind of thing.”
“But he didn’t actually change his will before he died?” I said.
“Apparently not. His death was unexpected. I’m sure he thought he’d have more time.”
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
“That’s all I know,” Libby said. “Are we done here?”
“I guess so. Thank you for answering my questions.”
“I told you to talk to my brother, Graham. Have you done that yet?”
“No, I—”
“If I were you, I’d get right on it.” The line went dead.
I put the phone away and looked down at Faith. She tipped her face up toward mine. Her tail swished slowly from side to side.
“That family thinks they rule the world,” I said.
Faith woofed in reply.
She ruled my world, and she knew it.
* * *
Graham Brody was expecting my call. I can’t say I was surprised. By now, I was becoming accustomed to both Brody family dynamics and to Libby’s powers of persuasion when it came to bending others to her will.
Graham told me that he and his brother, Joe, would be available to see me after lunch and gave me directions to his place in Cos Cob. Two birds with one stone. I liked the sound of that
Sam and Kevin arrived home as I was mixing up some egg salad for lunch. While we ate, Kev told me all about swim class. He waved his hands in the air with great enthusiasm to demonstrate the stroke he’d practiced that morning. It looked suspiciously like a doggie paddle, but hey, whatever kept his head above water was fine with me.
After lunch, Sam had work to do which meant that the munchkin was coming with me. Hopefully the Brody brothers wouldn’t mind the unexpected addition to our group. I’d already met Joe—he’d directed me to the cache of bottled water in the pantry during Puppy Fest—and he’d seemed like an easygoing guy. With luck, his brother would be the same.
Cos Cob is a small coastal community situated just east of Greenwich. Not quite large enough to qualify as a separate town, it does have its own post office, fire station, and schools, as well as coveted access to Long Island Sound.
Kev and I took the Post Road west from Stamford. He was bouncing up and down in his car seat happily. “Going swimming!” he cried.
I glanced back at him over my shoulder. “No, you already went swimming this morning. Now we’re going somewhere else.”
Kev loves going places. Despite the fact that I’d dashed his plans, his smile remained firmly in place. “Supermarket?” he guessed.
“No.”
“Library? Dog food store?”
“No, we’re going to visit some people I need to talk to.”
“Talk to people,” he agreed happily. “Friends.”
I hoped he was right about that.
Graham’s directions led me to a modest clapboard house on a residential street north of the village. The home was painted dove gray with white trim and had arched windows, a peaked roof, and a narrow front porch. A short driveway led to a detached single-car garage whose door was closed. The pavement in the driveway was cracked in several places, and the yard around the house needed mowing.
I couldn’t help but be struck by the disparity between this house and the other Brody residences I’d visited. Graham and Joe were from Leo’s most recent marriage. By my estimation, these brothers were nearly twenty years younger than Fred and almost a decade younger than Caroline. These younger siblings wouldn’t have had as much time to establish themselves in careers as Leo Brody’s older children had. I wondered whether that was the reason for the difference or if there was some other factor at play.
Kevin likes to ring doorbells so I picked him up and let him have at it. He managed to push the buzzer twice before I pulled him hastily away.
“Sorry about that,” I said when the door opened only seconds later. I indicated Kev, now on the porch. “My son got a little carried away.”
“I’m Kevin Driver,” Kev announced. “Who are you?”
“Graham Brody.” He reached down, took Kevin’s hand, and gave it a gentle shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You too,” Kev agreed.
Graham was shorter than his brother but not by much. Both men shared the same coffee-colored hair and gym-ready builds. And just like Joe, Graham had a great smile.
“I’m Melanie Travis,” I said. “I hope it’s okay if Kev joins us?”
“No problem.” He waved us both inside. “Joe’s pouring us a couple of beers. Can I get you something?”
“No thanks. I have a juice box and some Matchbox cars in my bag. Kevin can entertain himself while we talk.”
Graham preceded m
e into a living room whose décor could best be described as “vintage bachelor pad.” The focal point of the room was an enormous flat-screen TV. It was affixed to a wall opposite a charcoal suede couch that was flanked by a pair of matching recliners. Black metal accent tables and a dead plant in the corner completed the furnishings.
“Have a seat,” said Graham.
Kev looked around at the choices and staked out a spot on the floor. I handed him a trio of model cars, then sat down on the couch. I’d barely gotten settled before Joe appeared through a doorway that led to the kitchen. He was holding two bottles of Heineken by their necks.
“Hey, good to see you again.” He lifted his hand and tipped a bottle in my direction. “Want one?”
“No thanks.”
“We’ve covered that already. She doesn’t want a beer,” Graham told him.
Joe shrugged. “Never hurts to ask.”
Graham looked my way as he took a seat in one of the recliners. “Joe’s two years older than me. For some reason, he thinks that makes him smarter.”
“If the shoe fits . . .” Joe’s brows waggled up and down. He nodded toward Kev, who was parking his cars in a row beneath the coffee table. “Cute kid. Yours?”
I hoped that wasn’t a serious question.
“His name is Kevin,” I said. “He’s three.”
Kev glanced up. “Three and a half,” he corrected.
“That’s a great age,” Joe said. He sank down in the other recliner.
“You have children?” I asked, surprised.
“No, but I remember it well.”
Graham stared at his brother. “You remember being three,” he said skeptically.
“Of course. Don’t you? We lived in a big house with a swimming pool that had a slide. Jane had a pony. It used to crap all over the lawn.”
“Don’t listen to a word he says,” Graham told me. “He’s making it up.”
“Scout’s honor.” Joe raised his hand and formed a salute with his fingers. “I remember everything.”
“Except maybe the fact that you were never a Boy Scout.”
“A mere technicality.” Joe lifted his bottle and took a long swallow of beer.
Graham followed suit. The two of them were like peas in a pod. Maybe that was why they couldn’t resist taking jabs at one another.
“Do the two of you live here together?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Joe. “He’s the tenant. I’m the landlord.”
“But not for long,” Graham said.
“You’ll be moving out?”
He nodded. “Libby filled us in on what you’re doing so I’m sure you know that my circumstances . . . that all our circumstances . . . have changed recently.”
“With your father’s death,” I said.
“That’s right.”
His matter-of-fact tone stopped me from offering condolences. I moved on instead. “Were you at the house that day for Puppy Fest?”
“Sure, I was there,” Graham replied. “We were all there.”
“I don’t remember seeing you.”
“It’s a big house.” He shrugged. “I didn’t see you either. Puppy Fest is pretty much a command performance for us Brodys. That explains my presence. How come you were there?”
“Claire Travis, the woman who was running the event, asked me to come and help with the puppies.”
A look passed between the two brothers. Before I could decipher what it meant, it was already gone.
“You were working with Jane,” Joe said quickly, speaking up before Graham had a chance to reply. I wondered if there was something he didn’t want his brother to say.
“Yes, I was. She’s your sister, right?”
Joe nodded. “We have five sisters. But yes, Jane is one of them.”
“The bossy one.” Graham looked pained.
“The closest to us in age,” Joe added. “Jane’s the oldest in our part of the family. I came along next, followed by Graham. Annette was last. She’s spending the summer in Chile with a youth group. They’re working with disadvantaged kids.”
“That sounds like something your father would have approved of.”
“He did,” Joe told me. “Leo was determined that each of his children would have what he called ‘real world experience. ’ I worked for Habitat for Humanity. Graham did a stint with AmeriCares.”
“And what do you do now?” I asked.
“I guess you might say that I’m between opportunities. Right now, I’m bartending at a restaurant in Rye. But as Graham pointed out earlier, my prospects are about to improve.”
Indeed.
I turned to Graham. “What do you do?”
“I’m a venture capitalist.”
“Big words.” Joe winked at me. “Small results.”
“So far.” Graham glared at his brother. “But I’m currently involved with several innovative tech startups. As soon as one of them hits, that will change.”
“You’ve been singing that same tune for the last three years,” Joe said with a smirk. “It’s beginning to get old.”
“Oh? And I suppose you think you’re doing so much better, spending your nights behind a bar watching people get drunk?”
I wasn’t aware that Kevin had been listening to our conversation, but now he raised his head. “I like bars,” he said.
He was thinking of jungle gyms. At least I hoped he was.
“You do?” Joe sounded amused. “You must be very precocious.”
“I am.” Kevin nodded firmly. Lack of comprehension has never stopped him from agreeing with anything.
“In that case, you should bring your mother to my bar to visit me some time.” Joe’s gaze slid my way. When his eyes locked on mine, I wondered what in the world he was thinking. “Do you think she might like that?”
Kevin just looked confused. Which was pretty much the way I felt. Joe’s husky-toned remark had sounded as though it was meant to be a come-on. But surely I had to be mistaken about that.
Graham cleared his throat loudly, drawing all eyes his way. He still appeared to be angry at his brother’s repeated needling, and his next words only confirmed that impression.
“Enough beating around the bush,” he said shortly. “Let’s talk about why you’re really here.”
Chapter 17
“I’m sure Libby explained that to you,” I said in the same kind of soothing tone I’d have used to calm an angry dog. “She has doubts about the way your father’s death was handled. You were there that day. What do you think happened?”
Graham ignored my second question and zeroed in on the first. “Why are you asking me?” he demanded.
Joe spoke up before I could respond. “That’s easy. Melanie wants to hear what you have to say about Leo’s death because you’re the one who always needs money.”
Really? He had to go there?
Even though Libby had said much the same thing, I was still annoyed. Joe was fanning the flames of his brother’s anger deliberately. And unnecessarily.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Graham shot back. “If you think that gives me some kind of motive, you’re crazy. I loved my father. I would never have done anything to hurt him.”
He reached for his beer bottle and chugged half of it down in one long gulp. Joe glanced at me and rolled his eyes. I focused on Graham and ignored him.
“That’s a stupid idea anyway.” Graham set the empty bottle back down on the tabletop with a sharp snap of his wrist. “I’m not the only one in this family who needs money.”
“Who else?” I asked with interest.
“Caroline, for starters. She and her husband put up a good front but he’s been living off her dough for years. And what about Nancy with her endless causes? Save the redwoods! Save the whales! Save the butterflies! Money flows through her fingers like water.”
“Graham, that’s enough,” Joe said sharply. “Melanie doesn’t want to hear about that stuff.”
Joe couldn’t have been more wrong. Th
at was exactly what I wanted to hear about. And Joe had shut his brother down precisely when things started to get interesting.
“Then how about you?” I challenged him. “What do you think happened?”
Joe thought before answering. “Truthfully, I don’t know. Obviously I was at the house that day too. I had seen my father earlier, just before I ran into you. He and I talked about Puppy Fest and how excited he was to be hosting the event again.”
He stopped and sighed. “Leo Brody wasn’t just our father. He was also a man who genuinely cared about making the world a better place. His passing isn’t only our loss—it’s a loss for everyone who would have benefitted from his good works in the future. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to end his life.”
“That’s because our father’s death was an accident,” Graham snapped. “It was a stupid, senseless tragedy that should never have happened.” He’d barely finished speaking before he pushed himself to his feet and left the room.
Joe and I watched him leave in silence. Then we resumed our conversation. I asked a few more questions and got a few more nebulous replies. Joe kept diverting the discussion away from Leo Brody’s death by asking me questions about my life. Which wasn’t useful at all.
Eventually I just gave up. Maybe that was his plan all along.
“I want to apologize for my brother’s behavior,” Joe said as he walked Kevin and me to the door. “Graham has a short fuse, but he never stays mad for long. After he blows up, he’s always sorry later.”
“I hope I didn’t upset him too much. I know the questions I was asking weren’t easy.”
To my surprise, Joe lifted his arm and curled it around my shoulders, pulling me closer to his side. His fingers squeezed gently. “It’s kind of you to look at it that way. You seem like a very understanding woman.”
His gesture was not only unexpected, it also felt oddly possessive. And inappropriate. I took a deliberate step back and Joe’s hand fell away. He appeared amused by my retreat.
We both reached for the doorknob at the same time. Our arms crossed, and his hand landed on top of mine. Joe looked at me and smiled.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Flirting with you.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I am.” His lips quirked upward in one corner. No doubt he was accustomed to using that lopsided grin to great effect.
Murder at the Puppy Fest Page 16
