by Kira Chase
“That was also the night she was murdered,” Frankie reminded him.
“Yes it was,” he replied. “Her lawyer is out of the country and is due back in a day or so. I had assumed Cassandra kept a copy of her new will in the home safe along with all of our other personal papers, but since it isn’t there, I suppose there is something in there she didn’t want me to see.” He drew a deep breath. “But that’s neither here nor there since I didn’t sign a pre-nup.”
“Could she have put the will in a bank safety deposit box?” Johanna asked.
“I checked, but it wasn’t there.” He frowned. “But, then of course, she might have another safety deposit box somewhere unknown to me. God only knows what other dark secrets may come out about her.”
“Didn’t you find that odd about a new will?” Frankie asked.
He nodded. “Of course I did. Cassandra and I had no secrets from one another that I was aware of. I wouldn’t have even known about the new will if I hadn’t called her lawyer to notify him of her death.”
“Which brings us back to our earlier conversation,” Johanna interjected. “Maybe she had an inkling that something was going to happen and decided to change her will in the event that it did.”
“You still think that Chelsea has been impersonating her.”
Frankie looked questionably at him. He saw the pictures, so why is he trying to act like it couldn’t be her? She sighed heavily. “Yes, we do. It’s unmistakable. We know that the woman Johanna took pictures of wasn’t Cassandra, but Cassandra shows up at the motel, where earlier Chelsea had been, and is murdered. Don’t you find that just a bit odd? And what about Cassandra’s Porsche? Someone who resembled Cassandra almost to a tee—except for the eye color—was driving it. According to what you said this morning, we definitely know it is Chelsea, since you identified her in the pictures. Unless there’s another person out there impersonating Chelsea.” She laughed hollowly.
Johanna snickered, but Graham stood stone-faced, glaring at her.
“Which brings us back to the question of how did Chelsea gain possession of the car?” Frankie continued.
“Let’s talk in the library,” he said abruptly.
Frankie narrowed her eyes and looked at Johanna who shrugged. Graham’s odd behavior and convenient way of avoiding her questions was getting on Frankie’s nerves and at the same time making her uneasy. She hoped when Johanna made her exit she’d be extra cautious.
They followed him down a long, wide hall, which contained high-peaked ceilings with strategically placed crystal chandeliers. Side tables held art pieces, and exquisite paintings adorned the walls. Frankie was uncomfortable. This place is like a fucking palace. She caught Johanna’s eye. Johanna shook her head in disbelief and rolled her eyes at Graham behind his back. Frankie stifled a laugh.
Once inside the library, Frankie’s eyes traveled to the enormous bookcases crammed with thousands of books. “The library I used to go to as a kid wasn’t even this big,” she said in amazement.
“Cassandra’s parents were avid readers. They rarely watched TV, and instead spent most of their free time in here.” He raised a hand in a sweeping motion. “Most of these volumes are priceless.” He seated himself on the arm of a small dark brown leather sofa, folded his hands and placed them in his lap.
Johanna took a seat on a beige leather chair next to the sofa on which Graham was perched on the arm, and Frankie seated herself across from Graham on a sofa that matched his.
“When was the last time you saw your wife alive?” Frankie asked.
“Right before I left to go to New York. She seemed fine.”
“She didn’t appear nervous or anxious about anything?”
He shook his head. “No. She said she was going to the gym later.” He sighed. “I got the impression that she was glad to be rid of me for a few days so she could carry on with her lover.”
Johanna leaned forward and turned her head to face him. “Graham, level with us here. It’s impossible for us to work for you when you tell us nothing but lies.”
His face turned purple with rage. “How dare you! I hired you two to find out who killed my wife and all you’re doing is interrogating me!”
“You know as well as Frankie and I do that the woman who began going to the gym at night two months ago was not Cassandra. Where was Cassandra for the past two months?” Johanna asked calmly.
His face twisted and contorted as his eyes shifted to Frankie then back to Johanna. “She was here!” he snapped.
“With Chelsea?”
He glared at Johanna. “You need to focus on who murdered my wife!” He jabbed a finger in the air. “I have no idea where Chelsea is and I don’t give a damn about her whereabouts!” His body shook with rage. “When I get my hands on the bastard who murdered her…let’s just say he’ll be better off if the sheriff finds him first.”
“If we find out who did it, Graham, we’ll be turning him over to the sheriff. I’m sure you understand that we have no other choice.”
“No! I want you to bring him directly to me!”
Frankie’s guard went up and she kept an eye on him in case he made any sudden movement. She was thankful for her gun. Knowing it was there eased her mind a little. They’d dealt with too many psychos when they were cops, and a few in their current profession. She knew to never let her guard down for even a second because someone could go off in the blink of an eye. Just the demented look in someone’s eyes could make her skin crawl. She’d seen a life snuffed out in a matter of seconds with only someone’s hands.
Johanna appeared unfazed by his outburst. “We can’t do that. If you’re not satisfied with the way we’re handling your case you have the option of terminating our contract.” He made no comment, but stared blankly at her. “Now please answer our questions so we can get on with our investigation.”
“If my wife was being held against her will somewhere or being impersonated, then it only happened after I went to New York the other night.” His voice was calmer.
“Then who the hell was driving her car? You still haven’t answered that question.”
“If someone other than Cassandra was driving the Porsche, then how in God’s name would I know since I wasn’t here?”
“You identified Chelsea Reynolds as the woman in the pictures I took,” Johanna added.
Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead even though the room was cool. “She must have shown up after I’d gone to the airport. Maybe she’d been casing the house. I don’t know. That’s what you two should be trying to find out.”
“I assume that Mary hasn’t left the premises even though you’ve given her the night off,” Frankie said.
“I imagine she’s in her room watching TV or pestering Bryn in the kitchen,” he replied coldly.
“Would it be possible for me to talk to them?” Frankie asked.
“I don’t know what information they would have.” His tone turned defensive. “They’ve already been questioned.”
“Maybe one of them remembers a visitor when you were away on one of your business trips.”
“I can assure you right now that there were no mysterious visitors in my absences.” He rolled his eyes at Frankie. “They have nothing further to add.”
“Maybe they thought of something since they were questioned,” Frankie insisted.
His eyes flashed. “Look, I’m busy. I don’t have time for this right now. Why are you here when you should be out there tracking down the murderer?”
Frankie glanced at Johanna. “If you need to go I can finish up here.” She caught the uneasy look in Johanna’s eyes.
Graham threw his hands up. “I’m not paying you to waste my money or my time, dammit!”
“I’m going to take off then,” Johanna said. She turned to Graham. “I hope you’ll reconsider and start telling us the truth. If you think we’re wasting your time and money then I suggest we terminate the contract effective immediately. We also don’t have time to play games.”
“Hold on a second,” Frankie interjected. “We never said we wanted to quit and we are doing what you hired us to do. But, to be frank, we’ve never had a client who is doing everything in his power to hamper the investigation he hired us to do.” She placed her hands on her hips as she stared at him. “You can either level with us or we can end this now, take the pictures to Sheriff Ryker, and let him sort this out. Maybe that’s what we should do.”
A bead of sweat ran down the side of Graham’s face. He removed a handkerchief and mopped his face as he gestured with his other hand. “You haven’t shown the pictures to the sheriff?”
“No. All he knows is that we were tailing Cassandra and our time frame didn’t match her time of death. That’s why we wanted to talk to you again.”
Johanna looked quizzically at her. “Do you want me to hang around for awhile, then?”
Frankie smiled. “No. I’ll catch up with you later.” The slant of Johanna’s shoulders told Frankie that Johanna didn’t want to leave, but she slowly made her way to the door.
“I’ll keep my cell on,” she whispered before slipping into the corridor and closing the door behind her.
Frankie turned her attention back to Graham. “Where’s Chelsea?”
His face paled. “I don’t know.”
She eyed him cautiously. “Okay, enough with the games. I’ve been in this business long enough to know when I’m being lied to. I’ll lay it out for you. Either come clean with me now or we’re closing our investigation. Where has Cassandra been for the past two months?”
He looked down at his hands then slowly raised his eyes meeting hers. “Here…I didn’t want anyone to know, but she was ill. I thought she was having a nervous breakdown.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Did she become ill before or after Chelsea showed up?”
His jaw tightened and he swallowed hard. “One night, out of the blue, Chelsea showed up drunk out of her mind.”
“And?” She leaned forward.
“Cassandra and I let her in. The last thing we wanted to do was have someone recognize her and alert the media that she was back.” He shook his head disgustedly. “She was driving a beat-up wreck of a car. I was thankful that it was late and no one saw that contraption entering our home.”
“Where is she now?”
“I have no idea. That’s the truth.”
Frankie knew he was lying and it pissed her off, but she had to keep her cool. “She’s clearly been impersonating your wife.” She kept her eyes locked with his. “But then you already know that.”
Chapter 8
Johanna cautiously entered each room she passed looking for any signs of Chelsea. She wondered why the wealthy chose to live in these monstrosities. No matter how they furnished them she still found them to be cold and lonely. But then she assumed it was the status quo to see who had the best and the biggest. There were so many rooms and passageways that Chelsea could be anywhere. After she checked all of the rooms upstairs, she slipped back downstairs. She hoped Frankie could keep Graham occupied. She didn’t want to find out what Graham’s reaction would be if he found her snooping around his home.
She sneaked down a small passage and found herself outside of the kitchen. Muffled voices came from the other side of the door. She pushed through the door startling the two women inside. She knew instantly she’d found Mary and Bryn.
Even though Frankie was supposed to talk to the women when she was finished with Graham, Johanna didn’t want to waste the opportunity. She grabbed her cell phone and sent a quick text message to Frankie as she smiled at the women. “I’m looking for Mary.”
The larger of the two overweight women nodded with a wary eye. “I’m Mary.”
Johanna figured the woman to be in her late sixties. She was a heart attack waiting to happen. “Hello, Mary. I’m Johanna Obrien, a private investigator hired by your employer Graham McHenry. I’m investigating the murder of Cassandra McHenry.”
Mary’s eyes filled with tears and she blessed herself. “May she rest in peace. She was a beautiful woman inside and out.” She picked up the edge of her apron and dabbed at her eyes. “I don’t know who would want to kill her.”
“Were there any unusual visitors or incidents during the last few months?” She caught the guarded look that passed between the women. “Anything that you may not have found odd at the time but maybe do now?”
“We don’t discuss the McHenrys’ personal business.”
“Even if it may lead to Cassandra’s killer?”
“The sheriff has already questioned us and I have nothing further to add. Isn’t that right, Bryn?”
The other woman nodded her affirmation.
Mary’s small eyes distrustfully watched Johanna. “I’ve been with this family for over forty years and Bryn has been here for thirty.”
“Do you mind if I have a seat?” Johanna didn’t wait for permission and pulled out a chair, and sat at the large wooden table, which was situated in the middle of the enormous kitchen. Bryn shot her a dirty look and Johanna returned the look with a bright smile. Bryn’s black hair streaked with gray was severely pulled back and done up in an old-fashioned bun. Her smooth olive skin bore few wrinkles and her eyes were black with thick bushy eyebrows. Despite her eyebrows, her features were pleasant looking and Johanna surmised that the woman undoubtedly had been a beauty in her day.
“Do you both live here on the premises?” Johanna asked as her eyes scanned the room noticing five doors, which obviously led to different sections of the mansion. She wondered which one led to their quarters.
“Yes,” they answered in unison.
“So, I take it neither of you have spouses or do they work here, too?”
“Years ago, I was married for a short time, but it ended in a nasty divorce. Mr. And Mrs. Reynolds were very kind to me and offered me a home here. I’d been working for them for a couple of years and I had no family to help me out,” Bryn replied. “They, along with the other staff, became like family to me.”
“I remember how you’d let Tony walk all over you, Bryn. I never would have allowed any man to dominate me,” Mary stated sharply as she pulled a cutting board from a cabinet. “Let me help you with the vegetables for tomorrow’s soup. My show isn’t on tonight.”
“Are you sure?” the younger woman asked.
Mary nodded. “I’m sure.”
Johanna watched as the flabby parts of Mary’s underarms jiggled every time she brought the sharp blade of the knife down on an unsuspecting carrot. She could understand why Mary hadn’t married. Besides her disposition leaving something to be desired, she was homely and the five o’clock shadow obvious on her thick upper lip made Johanna wonder what other parts of her body were unnaturally hairy. She averted her eyes and sat waiting for the women to say something, but they chitchatted as if she weren’t there. She glanced at her phone. Frankie had texted her back.
He’s acting odd. Don’t stay long and please be careful.
She cleared her throat.
“Is there something else we can do for you?” Mary asked with a touch of annoyance in her voice.
“You two must have known Chelsea. How old was she when she left here?”
A dark cloud passed over Mary’s face. “That girl was as bad as the day is long. She was trouble from the moment she entered this world. Even as a child she was always getting into scrapes with her playmates. She was a mean one. She brought nothing but grief to her poor parents.”
Bryn nodded her assent as she stirred some chopped vegetables into a pot. “No matter what they did for her nothing was ever good enough in her eyes. She always demanded more. When she got older she started running with a bad crowd and got messed up with drugs. Her parents tried an intervention, but that didn’t work either.”
&nb
sp; Mary shook her gray head so vigorously that Johanna thought it would snap and roll off her stumpy neck. “They finally tried tough love at the advice of a family counselor.”
“What happened?” Johanna asked.
“They told Chelsea if she didn’t straighten up and follow their rules to get out. Of course they never dreamed she’d leave. Why would anyone in her right mind leave and give up all this comfort?”
“She left and never came back,” Bryn added. “Mrs. Reynolds took it hard. The poor thing was inconsolable for weeks and became physically ill. To make matters worse, a few months after Chelsea left, she sent the most cruel and hateful letter to her parents.” She sheepishly looked at Johanna. “We found out when Mrs. Reynolds confided the contents of the letter to us. She cared for us like we were her good friends instead of employees and Cassandra was the same way. That’s why working here has been such a joy. We were always treated very well and handsomely provided for with full medical benefits, a place to live, all the food we wanted and a salary to boot,” she said, smiling. “Our own friends envied our positions here.”
“It sounds too good to be true.”
Mary smiled faintly. “That’s why no one ever left once they came to work here. If they had, they’d be a fool.”
“How did Cassandra take it when Chelsea left?” Johanna asked, turning the conversation back to Cassandra. “Were they close?” She looked at Bryn since she seemed more willing to share information than Mary was.
“For identical twins, the girls were as different as day and night.” She looked warily at Johanna. “I’ve said too much. I have no right discussing their private affairs.”
“Did Chelsea and Cassandra get along?”
Mary shot Bryn a stern warning then looked coldly at Johanna. “We can’t help you…sorry. Now if you don’t mind, we need to get back to our chores.”
Johanna frowned, thinking of a new angle to make the women open up. “Do you even care that your employer, someone you watched grow from an infant into a beautiful young woman, was murdered? Don’t you want to see justice served?”
