Ray approached the man, hand extended. “Jack, hello! I haven’t seen you in ages.”
The man drew himself up to his full height, bringing him even with the bridge of Ray’s nose. “Sorry. I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
“I’ll be darned. You look just like an old buddy of mine from Chicago—Jack Rosenkrantz. My name’s Ray Schiller, by the way,” he said, purposely omitting his professional title from the introduction. “I’m a friend of Amy’s.”
Scowling, the man shook Ray’s hand. “Larry Benedict.”
Oh, crap. Benedict. It galled him to think there might be something to Waverly’s theory about Amy and her husband’s partner after all.
Benedict reached into a pocket and handed Ray one of his business cards. “If you’re ever interested in upgrading or customizing your insurance coverage, give me a call. I’ll be glad to discuss it with you.”
Ray masked his disgust at the graveside sales pitch, and made a point of looking at the card. “Wait a minute. The Benedict Insurance Agency. Didn’t Amy’s husband work for you?”
“Yes, he did. If you’ll excuse me now—”
“Hey. Didn’t I hear that Hugh just made partner at your agency?”
“Word gets around fast apparently.”
“It sure does,” Ray agreed. “The Benedict-Conley Insurance Agency. That has a nice ring to it. At least you didn’t waste a lot of money on new business cards and signage yet.”
In response to Ray’s intentionally tasteless remark, Benedict said only, “Yes, well, as I said… If I can ever be of service with your insurance needs, Mr. Schiller, feel free to contact me.”
“Sure thing.” You slimy… The consummate salesman left Ray with a bad taste in his mouth.
Benedict turned away and approached Amy as she shared a hug with her two last well-wishers. As the couple left, Benedict hugged her, his cheek pressed too long and too tightly against her own. “Again, I’m so sorry about Hugh, Amy.”
She pulled away as Ray watched. Was it embarrassment, distaste, or discretion? He hated the uncertainties Waverly had planted in his mind.
“Larry,” she said, “you’re coming to the restaurant, aren’t you?
“Of course. I’d be pleased to have you ride there with me.”
“Thanks, but I already have a ride.”
He tried harder. “It would give us a chance to talk on the way.”
Coming from nearby, Amy’s blonde friend said, “Sorry, Larry, I’ve got dibs on her.” Her smile stopped short of her eyes.
Benedict backed off, hands raised. “Fine. We’ll talk later then, Amy.”
“Yes. Later.” She turned toward Ray. “I’m so glad you’re here. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to attend.”
“I’m not here as a cop; I’m here as a friend. Gail’s here, too.”
“That means a lot to me. Thank you, Ray.” Chin quivering, she stepped close and wrapped him in a hug. “You’re coming to the luncheon, right?”
“We’ll be there.” He reached out and gave her shoulder a quick, reassuring squeeze. He glanced at his car and saw Gail watching from inside as she waited for him. “I’d better go. We’ll see you there.”
By the time Ray got into the car, Gail was shivering.
“Cold?” He started the engine and turned the heater on high.
“Hon, that older woman back there with Amy… Was that her mother?”
“No, both her parents died years ago.”
“Oh, I didn’t know.” Sympathy softened her voice. “That’s awful, especially now.”
“Yeah. From what I understand, what few family members she had to begin with are gone. Based on the turnout back there, she hasn’t made many friends since she’s been in the Cities. Her late husband saw to that. It sounds like he was a controlling S.O.B.”
“That’s a shame.” Gail let her head drop against the headrest. “Why did you stay behind? Was there a problem back there?”
“I was just playing it safe. One of the people waiting to see Amy had me on edge.”
“Are you talking about that weasely-looking character…the one who kept checking Amy out during the service?”
“You noticed?”
“When you’ve been married to a cop as long as I’ve been, that sort of thing rubs off on you.”
“Apparently,” Ray said, smiling. “That weasel, by the way, is Larry Benedict, owner of the Benedict Insurance Agency. He’d just made Amy’s husband his business partner, but the partnership didn’t make it to the twenty-four-hour mark. Dick’s trying to find out why Benedict missed his flight to Jacksonville on the night Conley was killed. He caught an early flight out of Minneapolis the next morning.”
“Interesting.” She tucked both hands in her coat pockets. “You’ve never shared details on a case with me before. I think I like it.”
“Well, don’t get used to it. I only told you because if I get a chance to talk with Benedict at the restaurant, I stand a better chance of getting some useful information out of him if I can keep my occupation under wraps. I’m letting you know so you don’t give me away.”
“Got it,” Gail said.
11
By the time Ray and Gail arrived at the restaurant, the attendees had already divided themselves into two separate camps. Hugh Conley’s family, friends and business associates occupied three-quarters of one side of the room while Amy’s supporters sequestered themselves at the remaining tables. Ray did a quick scan of the dining room, but didn’t find Larry Benedict among either group.
Amy motioned them over. “Come sit here. We’ll make room for you.” Two men rose and confiscated a pair of chairs from a nearby table while the others shifted their seats, creating more space.
“Ray, Gail,” Amy said, “I’d like you to meet Adam Fetting and George Majeski, old friends of my family, my friends Jessica Hall and Nicki Wright, and my friend and neighbor Liz Dunham. Ray and Gail Schiller, everybody.”
He shook the men’s hands and acknowledged the women with a nod, grateful that Amy had left ‘detective’ out of the introductions. Even out of Larry Benedict’s presence, conversing without being labeled could work to his advantage. Receiving unsolicited personal information from strangers was the curse of doctors. The opposite, tight-lipped, what-do-you-want-to-know-for interactions fell to detectives.
“I know Ray and Gail from Widmer,” Amy said, expanding on the introduction.
Ray feared he was about to lose his advantage when Nicki spoke up before Amy had the chance to mention his occupation. “It’s nice of the two of you to come so far for the funeral.”
“You’re giving us more credit than we deserve,” Gail told her. “We live in Eden Prairie now.”
“Oh,” Nicki said, brushing a lock of red hair behind her ear. “Are you from Widmer originally?”
“No,” Gail said. “Chicago.”
“From Chicago to Widmer,” Liz mused. “Quite a change of pace. Was Widmer too quiet for you? I mean, here you are in another big city.”
Their move had been motivated largely by their desire to keep Joey’s parentage confidential, but that was privileged information. Ray’s answer to Liz was honest if not slightly evasive. “A lot of factors went into making our decision.”
Jessica broke in. “So how long have you been in Eden Prairie?”
“It’s going on four years,” Gail said.
There was a quiet gasp from Amy. “Has it really been that long? Laurie and Krista must practically be young ladies now.”
Gail’s eyes widened in surprise. “Yes, they’re thirteen and ten now. I’m amazed you still remember their names.”
“I used to enjoy seeing the three of you come into the Copper Kettle Café together, Gail. They’re great kids.”
“They are, thanks,” Ray said. “We’ve added to the inventory. Our son Joey just turned three.”
“You’ve got a son now, too?” Amy asked. “Congratulations! That’s wonderful. I hope I’ll get to meet him sometime.”
Jessica’s eyes narrowed before she broke into a smile. “Wait a second. You’re the detective, right?”
Ray sighed. “I’m a detective, yes.”
“Right, right, right,” she said, obviously pleased with her recall. “Amy mentioned you the other day—conflict of interest and all that stuff.”
He nodded, hoping to let it go at that.
“So,” Adam Fetting said, “what’s going on? I, for one, would like to hear what kind of progress you’re making with the investigation.”
“It’s not my case. Even if it were, that information would be confidential. Sorry.”
“There’s nothing you can tell us?” Liz asked.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Well then,” she said, “I suppose we’ll just have to be patient and see what Detective Waverly comes up with.”
“You’ve met Detective Waverly?”
“I think we all have, haven’t we, girls?” Jessica and Nicki confirmed it. “Cops canvassed the entire neighborhood. The next day that hunky partner of yours stopped by in person.”
Ray fought back an amused smile. “I see.”
“He said he was making it a point to talk with Amy’s friends personally,” Liz pointed out.
“Yes. Detective Waverly is very thorough,” Ray said.
Nicki leaned closer. “Isn’t there anything at all you can tell us?”
“Only that Detective Waverly is conducting a very thorough investigation. I think he’s part bloodhound.”
Waiters arrived with their food.
“Just like the cavalry,” Liz kidded. ”Go ahead and eat your meal in peace, Detective Schiller,” she said, raising her glass in Ray’s direction. “We’ll try to behave ourselves and let you enjoy your meal in peace.”
For the next thirty minutes, the mutterings of surrounding conversations drifted through the room filling brief silences at Amy’s table. She raised her head and looked the crowd over. People caught in mid-stare turned away.
“Look at them,” Amy said, pushing her plate aside. “So much for ‘innocent until proven guilty’. Everyone connected to Hugh, in one way or another, has convicted me already.”
Silver-haired George Majeski reached over with a gnarled hand and patted her wrist. “Honey, don’t you worry. When this is all over, they’ll be eating their words. Apologies will be coming out of the woodwork.”
“From some people maybe, not Hugh’s family, though. They’ve had it in for me from the day I married him.”
Jessica leaned forward, voice low. “What do you care? The hell with them.”
“It drives me crazy knowing they actually believe I killed Hugh.” A single tear spilled down Amy’s face. “I’m sorry. Would you excuse me, please?”
Nicki started to get up to follow her to the ladies’ room. “I’ll go talk to her.”
Before she could get to her feet, Jessica stood. “I’ll do it. Amy needs a real friend right now.” She walked away, her blonde waves bouncing against her back with each step.
The tension Ray had noticed between Amy’s friends at the cemetery was back clearer than before. He couldn’t help but wonder what was at the bottom of it.
Majeski looked across the table at Nicki. “Say now, you two girls aren’t spatting, are you? Not now with Amy in such a terrible predicament,” he scolded.
Nicki answered with a shrug.
The grandfatherly image projected by men of Majeski’s age seemed to shield them from normal reactions to nosy or even rude remarks, and he made the most of that. “Two bright, young girls like you should know better,” Majeski said. “What’s so important you can’t put it aside for now?”
Ray could have kissed him. Maybe the old man would ferret out the answer Ray was looking for.
Liz spoke up on Nicki’s behalf. “It’s nothing really. Jessica made an unfortunate comment to Nicki the other day. She implied that Nicki was partially responsible for what happened Wednesday night because she hadn’t gone inside with Amy when she dropped her off at home that evening.”
Nicki’s fine nostrils flared. “I still don’t understand how my going inside would have helped. If someone was already inside, they’d have just hidden until I left anyway.”
“I know, sweetie,” Liz said. “Forget about it.”
Majeski wagged a finger in their direction. “That’s right. It doesn’t matter one whit who’s right or wrong. You girls need to put it to rest for Amy’s sake.”
The table went silent as Jessica returned and took her seat. “Amy’s okay. She just wants a little alone time. She’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Liz patted her shoulder. “Before she gets back, why don’t you and Nicki end this nonsense between you? Being at odds is putting even more stress on Amy, and that’s the last thing she needs right now.”
“Well,” Jessica huffed, “I guess I don’t have to ask what you were talking about while I was gone.” When no one replied, she shifted uneasily in her seat. “All right,” she said, turning to Nicki. “I’m sorry about what I said. I suppose what happened wasn’t your fault.”
Nicki’s cheeks flushed. “You suppose? If that’s your idea of an apology, it really sucks, Jess.”
“Look, I’m sorry. Really. It’s just that—”
Liz held her hands up. “Let’s let it go at that, okay? It happened. It’s over. It’s no one’s fault, all right?”
“Right.” Jessica turned to Nicki and offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. Really.”
“Fine.”
Both the apology and acceptance were grudging at best.
Taking advantage of the awkward silence that followed, Ray said, “The three of you seem pretty tight with Amy. Has she told you much about her in-laws?”
“According to Amy,” Jessica said, “Hugh didn’t even tell his family about her until they got married. By the time his parents finally met her, it was pretty clear they had checked her out—investigated her ‘pedigree’. There’s just no other way to put it. They made no secret they felt Hugh had married beneath him.”
“That kind of elitist attitude turns my stomach,” Gail said. She looked across the room to the Conley’s table and noticed the family matriarch’s seat was vacant. “Well, at least Amy’s husband didn’t subscribe to that attitude.” Meaningful glances passed between Liz, Nicki and Jessica. “Did I miss something?” she asked.
“Hugh was cut from the same cloth,” Liz said, “but what he did was even worse.”
“Worse?” Gail asked. “What did he do?”
Ray sat back, glad to let her be the one to gather the information.
“Amy thinks Hugh only married her to spite his parents,” Liz said. “In fact, she’s convinced of it.”
“That’s horrible. Why would he do such a thing?”
Nicki spoke up. “He resented the way they ran his life. They decided where he went to school, what he studied, and who should be included in his circle of friends. His parents used their money to keep him in line…pretty effectively, too. Amy said that after she and Hugh started dating, he let something slip about them pressuring him to get married. The next thing she knew, he proposed.”
“Didn’t that set off alarm bells?” Gail asked.
“It should have,” Liz said. “But he was handsome and attentive. That and the whirlwind romance must’ve been pretty heady stuff. Hugh talked her into a hasty, private ceremony, all of which took place while his folks were out of the country. He wired them about the wedding. Wired them! Can you imagine? Anyway, his parents sent them a wedding gift in the form of an obscenely generous check before they returned to the states.”
Nicki ran a finger around the lip of her glass. “Amy said Hugh started treating her like dirt not long after his folks got back.”
Ray shoved his plate aside. “So, you’re saying Hugh’s marrying Amy was an adult version of a temper tantrum.”
“That covers it pretty well, I’d say.” Nicki captured an ice cube in her mouth and bit down with a crunch.
“Kind of like telling his parents, ‘Okay, you pushed me into getting married; I’ll show you.’”
“He was an ass,” Jessica muttered.
“How long have the three of you known Amy?” Gail asked.
“I’ve known her the longest,” Jessica said. “She joined the gym I belonged to right after she and Hugh moved here. Nicki, you joined the gym about…what…a little over a year ago?”
“Something like that.”
“Did you join the gym, too, Liz?” Gail asked.
“Me? No. I don’t mind being a little fluffy,” Liz joked. “Actually, I met Amy, Nicki and Jessica almost all at once. I work at Abbott Northwestern; I’m a nurse. Jessica was there visiting a friend about eight or nine months ago when I heard her mention an address just down the street from my new place—Amy’s as it turned out. I mentioned to Jessica that I’d just moved in a few doors down from her friend and hadn’t had a chance to meet anyone yet. A few days later, she stopped by with Nicki and Amy to welcome me to Elliot Park. Old bat or not, the next thing I knew, I was one of the girls.”
“You fit right in,” Jessica told her. She turned to Gail. “When Hugh tried to run us off like Amy’s other friends, we used the strength-in-numbers approach. He never stood a chance.”
Gail fidgeted and looked toward the ladies’ room. “Would you excuse me?” she said to the group. “I’ll be right back.”
Ray put a hand on her arm. “Honey, Amy will be all right; give her another minute.”
Gail put her lips to Ray’s ear. “I know, but I’ve got to pee.” She let her hand glide across his back as she rounded the table. As she passed the partition separating the dining room from the bar, she saw Larry Benedict downing a cocktail, made a mental note of it, and moved on.
She pushed the door of the restroom open and took a quick step back as Hugh Conley’s mother stormed out, her face red with fury, her mouth spewing hatred. “You’ll pay for what you did to my son. We’ll see to it.”
Inside, Amy stood at the vanity, tears streaming down her face.
Gail went to her. “Are you okay?”
Targeted: A Ray Schiller Novel (The Ray Schiller Series Book 3) Page 7
