“This is Bruce, my husband.” Shelley gestured toward him.
Bruce and Sean shook hands.
“Mr. Townsend.” Sara stood up and her arms moved like she was going to hug him, but she ending up dropping them for a handshake. The man disregarded the awkwardness coming off her and gave her a hug.
“It is nice to see you, my dear.” Bruce tapped the top of Sara’s head the way one would pacify a child, but Sean read sincerity in his tone and demeanor. Unlike Shelley, Bruce was genuine when he said it was nice to see Sara.
“I still can’t believe this happened to him.” Nicole leaned deeper into the sofa, her hands rubbing her thighs as if they were cold.
Bruce took a spot beside his daughter and wrapped a protective arm around her. “Sometimes bad things happen, sweetie.”
Sara made up a tea for Sean and handed it to him.
“Thank you, darling.” He kept his voice low, as if by speaking he would interrupt the sanctity of the gathering.
“Of course.” Sara took a seat on another chair in the room without fixing herself a tea. Sean managed to get her attention and she nodded that she was fine.
The question that no one wanted to speak hung in the air, dangling as if a veil. Did Jerrod kill himself?
After seconds of silence passed, Nicole must have sensed what they were thinking, or, at least, what he was thinking. “Jerrod never would have killed himself. Ever.” A sniffle and she continued. “He had everything going for him. Why would he?”
“I’m sure the police will find out the truth, Nicky,” her father said.
It had her turning on her father. “You make it sound like that’s what he did.”
“Nonsense, I never meant that.”
“They’ll get to the truth of it,” Sara interjected.
Sean appreciated how she always had a way of diffusing a potential threat to peace.
“Are you sure? They like to wrap things up, stamp closed on everything.” Nicole’s eyes shot to Sara.
“I promise you.”
“You promise her?” One of Shelley’s painted eyebrows hitched up. “How can you promise her that when you are no longer a cop? Don’t appear so surprised, dear, I know about you,” she viewed Sean with skepticism, “and you.”
“What about them, Mom?”
“They are wealthier than most could ever dream of, but they didn’t earn it.”
Sean steadied himself. Indignation whelmed up inside of him but he squashed it down. Shelley Townsend was clearly an expert at both manipulation and degradation. She seemed like the type that would run you over if you gave any evidence of a reaction.
“You’re rich, Sara?” Nicole’s face registered shock.
Sara gave a timid dip of her head.
Nicole attempted a smile. “Good for you.” She took in Sara’s outfit, as if for the first time, and then regarded Sean. “And you got married.”
“Just earlier this year.” Sara smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. Sean surmised it had to do with the circumstances.
“Yes, and the papers would have you believe these two do quite a bit of sleuthing.” This from Shelley, who made the statement and then took a draw on her tea.
“You’re private investigators?” Nicole asked.
“Sort of,” Sara responded. She chose now to linger a gaze on Sean. Determination crackled in her eyes.
Shelley put her cup down. “Could you find out what happened to Jerrod?”
Sean cleared his throat and sat forward. “The police are already working the case.”
Everyone’s eyes went to him.
“They will find out the truth.”
“I’m not so certain about that.” Nicole leaned to the table for the box of tissues. She pulled one out and blew her nose. “The officer I was speaking to made it sound like the stress of the holidays got to Jerrod, like he took his own life. He would never do that.”
“That is one man’s opinion, Nicole, and he shouldn’t have made that known to you. All the evidence hasn’t even been analyzed.” He wondered how much there would be to consider in this case. Everyone walked around with smartphones these days and could have recorded his fall.
“I don’t know. I just feel like they’re going to think he jumped.”
A lead ball settled in his gut. He turned to Sara, and she acknowledged him with brief eye contact.
“Why do you think that?” Sara asked, delicately.
“Because Jerrod had said one more store and he’d jump. Who would have ever thought he’d follow through?” She shook her head wildly. “No, he wouldn’t.”
Sean wondered if Sara had picked up on the discrepancy.
“We shouldn’t even be in Albany anyhow. It’s the hired help’s job to do the shopping, even for Christmas, but Jerrod wanted to do it himself this year. He gave me a speech about it being more personal.”
“So you were there when Jerrod said that, the part about jumping?” Sean asked for clarification.
Her gaze settled squarely on him. “Yes.”
Something wasn’t right. Magnum told them that he and Jerrod were talking alone when he had stated that about jumping. He had said the wives were off in stores. Did Jerrod say the same thing a couple times or was someone lying? Maybe they’d have to contact Jimmy for Magnum’s real name before too long.
Sean shook his head, dismissing the growing urge to get involved. There was nothing to get involved with at this point anyway—was there?
The Proposition
SHELLEY TOWNSEND CROSSED HER LEGS and rested her clasped hands on a kneecap. Her gaze settled on Sara and it transported Sara back to public school, and being on the receiving end of the woman’s glare. She had always run a tight ship. If the woman only knew half of what Sara and Nicole had done while growing up, and the things they’d experimented with, the result would be a full-blown conniption fit. Of course, most of the living-on-the-edge was done by Nicole—she’d had an attraction to the bad boys as well as a habit of shoplifting for a thrill.
“Would you find out the cause of Jerrod’s death?” Mrs. Townsend asked.
Sara and Sean’s eyes met and she let the connection stand until he seemed to read her thoughts.
He turned to Shelley. “I think it would be wise to wait on what is concluded by the police first.”
“By then it could be too late, could it not? If they approach this as a suicide—it’s apparent one cop is already prejudiced to the idea—what’s to say the investigation will get fair attention? This is my son-in-law we’re talking about, after all.”
“And this is—was—my husband.” Nicole’s bloodshot eyes leveled on Sara. “Please, I will pay anything.”
“It’s not about…” Sara wrapped her arms around herself. She had never been good at saying no, despite what protests to the contrary Sean may have. She had somehow managed to keep herself out of a relationship with him for two years, but even if it hadn’t been for the money and his proposal, she wasn’t sure how much longer she would have been able to hold out.
With the attention of Nicole, her parents, and Sean on her, Sara realized they were waiting for her decision. Sean was going to let her make the final choice, even though she had tried to defer the responsibility to him.
She took a deep breath. “Mrs. Townsend is right, Sean. If Jerrod’s death wasn’t an accident…” She couldn’t bring herself to verbalize the word intentional.
He finished her thought for her. “And if it was deliberate, the best evidence is found now.”
Sara nodded. For some reason the little girl who lived inside her still sought approval from Mrs. Townsend. If they found her son-in-law’s killer, surely it would redeem the woman’s opinion of her.
“We’d be glad to help,” Sara said.
“Oh, bless you,” Shelley exclaimed. “You let Mr. Townsend and I know how much and we’ll cover your time and expenses.”
“We don’t need the money,” Sara began, “but a lot of people do. There are great causes.”
“You’re asking that I make a charitable donation?” For some reason the thought seemed to have Mrs. Townsend recoiling in contempt, as if the action were beneath her. In this case, the little girl inside Sara was muffled and the woman took over.
“It is the respectful thing to do. I—we,” Sara glimpsed at Sean, “believe when you have money, you have the responsibility to help others less fortunate.”
“You mean tax deductions.” A statement not a question.
Shelley Townsend had certainly changed, and what was coming to light wasn’t improved character. The free money had made her complacent and ungrateful.
“For us, it’s not about that, but about making a difference.”
Mrs. Townsend sat up straighter, her bust heaving as she crossed her arms. “That is what you want me to believe? Really?”
“Mom.” Nicole placed a hand on her mother’s forearm.
Nicole’s father stood up and excused himself from the room. He had always been a meeker man, but especially so in the light of his boisterous counterpart.
“Mrs. Townsend, I’m not sure what makes you think that we are bad people, or what you might perceive that Sara did to you—”
“Oh, it wasn’t to me, it was to my Nicky. The biggest day of a girl’s life and her childhood friend was nowhere to be found. She was too busy at college.” Mrs. Townsend crossed her legs, her chin notching up when she made the movement.
Sara knew that’s where everything had taken a turn, and for years she had let the belief that she was a bad friend hold her down, but it was time to break free of that perception.
When Nicole got married, she chose to do so during the busiest period of the school year. It was the week before final exams and Sara needed to study. She had even told Nicole about her schedule when the wedding date was just talk. Once it was confirmed, Sara took that as a message that her friendship wasn’t valued. “Mrs. Townsend, there are two sides to every story.”
Mrs. Townsend turned her head toward Sara in dramatic slow motion.
“Nicole knew the situation and accepted it,” Sara continued.
“Please, Mom, this is in the past.” Nicole tapped her mother’s forearm again.
“Are you sure?”
“Mother.” Nicole jumped to her feet. “You—” Nicole buried her face behind her hands.
The room fell silent.
Seconds later, Nicole put her arms down. Tears stained her cheeks and her eyes were an intensified hue of red.
“Mother, my husband is dead. Do you understand that?”
“I was just—”
“I know what you were trying to do, but Sara’s a grown woman and so am I.”
Mrs. Townsend’s mouth moved as if she were going to speak, but her jaw skewed to the left and snapped shut.
“Can you leave us alone for a bit?” Nicole asked.
Mrs. Townsend’s eyes scanned about the room, and she then conceded to her daughter’s request.
“Sorry about her, Sara.” Nicole sat down where her mother had been.
“Are you really sure you want Sean and me to take care of this?”
“Someone killed him, Sara, and I need to know who.”
Questions That Need Answers
THERE WERE A FEW DISCREPANCIES that stood out to Sean. First, the man with the Magnum, P.I. mustache made it sound as if the women weren’t around when Jerrod Hill had talked about jumping. Yet Nicole mentioned her husband saying the same thing. Was it possible this man, Magnum, was following them and involved with Jerrod’s death somehow?
Second, with the Hills’ residence being in New York, why were they in Albany to shop? Surely there would be higher-end stores in the Big Apple.
If he and Sara were going to proceed, these concerns needed to be addressed, along with the standard inquiry as to whether or not anyone hated him enough, or had a reason, to kill him.
“Why were you shopping in Albany?” Sean asked, watching Nicole’s body language.
Nicole took a deep breath and paired it with a dramatic eye roll. “We shouldn’t even have been doing the shopping, but Jerrod insisted. He said we’d find unique gifts here. Actually, we were still arguing about it just before—” She paused, her lips curling, her chin contorting, but she composed herself without crying. “You know what it’s like for people like us, Sara, we don’t have to do our own shopping. Why would we? And Black Friday…does it really seem that we need to be concerned with bargains?”
“So, it was Jerrod’s idea that you come here and then he—” Sara didn’t finish the sentence.
Sean sensed from the paleness washing over Sara’s face that her intuitive feelings were kicking in again. She had a way about her that was almost physic, as if she were a mind-reader and foreteller of events. If she felt strongly about something, it usually came true. Right now, based on the set of her jaw and the words she spoke, Sean surmised Sara somehow believed it was Jerrod’s time and that may be why he was compelled to be in the mall.
“Yes. It’s not fair, really.” Nicole put a hand to her forehead and swept back wisps of brown hair. She sauntered to the bar cart and poured a Scotch. She held the decanter toward Sean, then Sara. “Would either of you care for a glass?”
“No, we’re good, hon,” Sara said, her eyes apologizing to Sean for declining on his behalf as well, but he understood her reasoning. They were gathering facts and needed their minds about them.
“Was he after anything in particular? You had said he thought you’d find unique gifts here,” Sean said.
“Not that he mentioned, just that he’d know it when he saw it.” She took a sip of her drink.
“You really seem to think someone pushed him. Do you know of anyone who doesn’t—didn’t—like your husband?” Sara’s cheeks flushed red.
“He did make it to managing partner at the firm. It went from Cook & Harmon on the letterhead to Cook & Hill.”
“Impressive.”
Nicole nodded and smiled at Sean for the praise. “He was an impressive man. And you know, we were married for twelve years and just as happy as in the first year. Actually, let’s say the second year. The first is always an adjustment.” She kept her gaze on them as she took another draw on the alcohol. “Or, maybe not for everyone.”
“Did anyone feel like maybe they were slighted by his promotion?” Sean asked.
“Yes, quite a few. Lawyers make no secret of it though. Besides, isn’t it normally the quiet ones who are the most dangerous?”
“Not always, Nicky.” Sara got up and guided Nicole back to the couch. She seemed to be teetering next to the bar cart, her mind absent behind her eyes.
Shock still had a firm hold over her. Her husband was alive just six hours ago and now he was gone.
“Sara, maybe we should get going?”
“Oh, please.” Nicole moved to get off the couch but Sara put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“Sean and I will check things out. You have my word.”
Talking It Out
SARA SETTLED BEHIND THE WHEEL and already had the engine turned on by the time Sean got into the passenger seat.
“I take it you’re wanting to drive what’s yours?” He smiled at her.
Her car, a Mercedes SLS AMG GT, had come in while they were in Europe and she was making up for lost time.
“You betcha.” She ran her hands around the wheel, appreciating the texture of the leather wrap, and tightened her grip.
Sean pulled his belt across. “There are a couple things not sitting well with me.”
“And those things are?”
“One is that Magnum claims he and Jerrod were alone when he mentioned jumping.”
“We really need to find out his real name, because that nickname…”
“What?” He shrugged and picked up where he had left off. “Nicole said she heard him say that too.”
Sara took one hand from the leather and brushed away the notion. “He could have said it twice.”
“Could have, but I’m not goi
ng to assume that’s the case. In the morning, we’ll get ahold of Jimmy and find out Magnum’s real name.”
She snickered. “I think that’s a good idea.”
“Anyway, this guy made it sound like Jerrod was over the railing not long after saying it. At the very least, he could have been the last to see him alive. Not to mention, if we get ahold of Jimmy maybe he’d share the camera footage from the mall with us.”
There was pause and Sara’s mind was whirling—was this truly happening? Her childhood friend had returned to her life but only as the result of a traumatic event.
“I noticed your expression when you found out shopping in Albany was Jerrod’s idea. You think he came here to meet his death?”
“That wasn’t actually what I was thinking.”
“All right, now I’m intrigued.”
“If it was his idea to come to Albany—was it that simple or was there more to it?”
“Nicole said Jerrod thought they’d find more unique gifts here than anywhere else.”
Sara angled her head to the side. “And you’re buying that? Albany has something that New York doesn’t?”
“You think he had a specific reason to come here?”
“Absolutely, Sean, and I think that reason got him killed.”
“Guess we’re not operating under the assumption he jumped.” His smirk sat crooked on his mouth.
“You know, you think you’re so adorable when you’re sarcastic or stating the obvious.”
“I am, aren’t I?” His expression blossomed into a full-fledged smile.
She could have answered him with words—but why, when the alternative was much more satisfying and fun? She leaned over and kissed him passionately until they were both short of breath.
“Mrs. McKinley, you better get us home.”
“Oh yeah, and why’s that?” It was her turn to play brat.
“Because if you don’t, your childhood friend and her parents are going to see more than they bargained for.”
“You’d be dreaming so anyhow.” She teased and pulled out of the driveway. As soon as the tires hit the street, she revved it and shifted into a higher gear.
Shopping is Murder (McKinley Mysteries Book 6) Page 3
