Trimmed to Death

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Trimmed to Death Page 22

by Nancy J. Cohen


  “Perhaps because I’m married to the homicide detective investigating your sister’s case,” Marla replied in a wry tone.

  He stared at her, the atmosphere chilling a few degrees. “Is that really why you’re here? To question me on his behalf? He’s already interviewed me twice.”

  “As I said, Alyce gave me the idea to see you about my business expansion. But I am curious since my husband learned about Alyce’s connection to Francine Dodger.”

  His mouth compressed. “Your husband thinks the same person may have targeted them both.”

  “Francine was hit on the head from behind. She’d been researching a topic that she boasted would be an exposé. Maybe Alyce came across the same material. Nobody at Francine’s magazine office can find her notes. My husband’s team has even searched her computers to no avail. Either she kept the data well hidden, or someone swiped it. Who would go to such means to cover up their trail?”

  He tilted his head. “Has your husband spoken to Francine’s boyfriend? I forgot to ask him. Alyce said the guy was leading Francine down the wrong path.”

  “He’s into spiritual mysticism and Egyptology. Dalton doesn’t seem to think he’s a suspect.”

  “No? Then who is on his list?”

  “You tell me. Who might have wanted to harm your sister?”

  “Alyce only meant to educate people about healthy eating,” Steve said, his voice choked. “She shouldn’t have died. If your husband finds the culprit, I hope he’s put away for a long time, even if it was an accident.”

  He shoved his chair back and rose to pace the room. Marla glanced at the clouds outside in a clear blue sky. Why was she here instead of enjoying the day? Hadn’t she learned to mind her own business yet? Was there any hope for her to lead a normal life of tending hearth and home?

  “Alyce didn’t like how this boyfriend influenced Francine,” Steve added. “My wife paid for those databases where you can check on people, you know? They’ve proven helpful for her work. So she looked up this guy.”

  “What did she learn?” Marla leaned forward to better hear his response.

  “Several of his colleagues have expressed concerns about plagiarism issues. They say he included plagiarized material in published research claimed as his own. He’s under investigation by the university’s Integrity Office. I suppose he could be fired if the accusations are proven true, or at the very least, he’ll be demoted in rank.”

  “I wonder if Francine knew this about him. Did your sister ever meet Colin in person?”

  Steve shrugged. “Not to my knowledge. Nor has Jon said anything on the subject, but Alyce often wouldn’t tell him about her research. He wanted to be the main breadwinner and insisted she keep her income for personal needs.”

  “Did you tell my husband any of this?”

  He shook his head. “I get flustered when he comes by. You know how it is with investigations, especially being in the financial sector.”

  That’s why Marla often found out stuff on her own. People were more willing to talk to a woman who didn’t appear threatening.

  “Would Colin have acted against Alyce for any reason?” she asked.

  Steve sank back into his seat and rubbed a hand over his face. “It wouldn’t make sense, unless my sister informed Francine about his misconduct, and she told Colin their relationship was over. He could have run down my wife out of revenge if he blamed her for their breakup.”

  “I’ll mention these thoughts to my husband. He can check to see what kind of car Colin drives and where he was when the accident happened.” She paused. “If Francine’s inheritance had been more substantial, Dalton might have suspected Jon Greene of doing in both women to gain the money. Will he be able to pay off his loan with the amount coming to him?”

  “He’s already paid off most of the interest, so hopefully he can cover the remaining principal. Jon has been very reliable in his payments. He’s a hard worker and a great cook. The man should have gone to culinary school.”

  “It’s rare that someone gets to work at what they love. I hope he achieves his dreams.”

  Steve gave a surreptitious glance at his smartwatch. “Is there anything else, Ms. Vail? I have another appointment in ten minutes.”

  She gripped her purse in her lap. “I’ve one more question, and then I’ll leave. I was surprised to learn Viadome owns Eat Well Now magazine. Francine hoped to buy out their investment if she’d won the bake-off competition. Would the prize have been enough money? Do you think your firm would have accepted an offer from her?”

  His brow wrinkled. “Their magazine has been steadily losing readership. It isn’t a new trend. Look at what’s happened to newspapers. As for an offer, I’m not at the level to make those decisions.”

  “Francine wanted to do more investigative pieces. She felt a broadened scope would arouse more interest.”

  “Alyce was ahead of her in that regard. She and Francine had more in common than they realized.”

  “How did you feel when your sister told you about Francine’s match at the DNA site?”

  “I didn’t want to believe it. Our mother deceived us. As far as I knew, I had one sister. That was enough for me.”

  “So your mom never hinted at having another child before her marriage to your father?”

  The corners of his mouth turned down. “Nope. Alyce got into genealogy as a lark. She thought it would be fun to trace our roots. I was just as surprised as she was when a hit came through. Even more surprising, she and Francine were already acquainted through their business circles.”

  “Did you expect Francine to leave her estate to your sister?”

  “Certainly not. It’s sad that we were her only living blood relatives. It must have hurt to learn our mother had cast her aside even if Mom thought it was the best choice at the time.” He shook his head. “I still can’t believe she never told us.”

  “Could someone other than you or Jon have an interest in your family?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m still trying to gain a sense of motive in both women’s deaths.”

  He stood, placing his palms flat on his desk. “I’d say, let your husband do his job. This interview is over.”

  Marla collected her purse and rose. “I meant what I said about my business proposal. May I still send you the plans?”

  “Sure, we can take a look at them.” He gestured toward the door, his meaning clear.

  She took a few steps and then halted. “Oh, wait. We didn’t talk about Amalfi Consolidated. Jon said your sister was afraid their company would get you in trouble.”

  “I’m not the one in charge of their accounts.”

  “I know. Someone else at your firm works with Tony Winters in that regard. It’s possible Alyce might have been investigating their company for a piece on her blog.”

  “Those guys aren’t people you want to mess with. The ones from Italy, I mean. They’re coming here for a visit. Maybe my sister would still be here if I’d kept my mouth shut.”

  “I’ve read about olive oil scams. Is that the problem? Or does it have to do with tax evasion?”

  He cast a fearful glance at the door. “I’ve told your husband what I know, which isn’t much. It’s bad enough that my remarks might have gotten my sister killed.”

  Sensing his reluctance to talk further, Marla thanked him for his cooperation. “I’ll email you my business proposal,” she said loudly as he escorted her to the exit. “I’m really hoping your firm decides the investment will be worthwhile.”

  Outside in the autumn-scented air, Marla walked to her car while mulling over their conversation. It appeared Colin Abubakar wasn’t as innocent as he’d seemed. The college professor was engaged in alleged misconduct and might have gotten angry if Francine broke up with him. Assuming he’d learned about Alyce’s role, he could have gone after her in revenge.

  Yet if this were true, who had followed Francine into the fields and bashed her on the head? Dalton had verified Colin’
s presence at the conference he’d attended.

  She unlocked the door to her Camry and slid inside. The air-conditioning, when she turned the engine on, gave a welcome blast.

  Tony Winters was still a major player as far as she was concerned. Did he take orders from the head honchos in Italy, or did he work autonomously on his company’s behalf in the States? Either way, had he killed the women because they’d been about to blow the lid on his firm’s fraud scheme? Then why were his relatives coming to town?

  Perhaps they planned to deal with the loose ends, like Tony himself. If so, no wonder the man was nervous about their visit.

  Marla called Dalton before pulling away from the parking lot. She reported on her conversation with the financial advisor.

  “He didn’t tell me about Abubakar,” Dalton said with a note of surprise. “I’ll look into those accusations against him, and I can see what model vehicle he drives. Are you on your way home, or could you stop by the station? I’ve just learned something else that’s interesting.”

  Pleased he valued her input, Marla agreed to meet him. A short time later, she was seated in his office. His colleagues had called out friendly greetings on her way in. These people were his second family, she realized. While she’d encountered them on social occasions, she should make more of an effort to get to know each person individually.

  At first, it had been hard to view the members of the police force as having real lives. But as they got better acquainted, she’d noticed how they had the same problems as everyone else. More so, actually, due to the dangerous and often distressing nature of their work.

  She kissed Dalton before taking a seat opposite his desk. “What’s up?”

  He shuffled through some papers and placed a folder on top. “Remember how you said Grace Kinsdale seemed out of tune with the role of farmer’s wife? I did a background check on her. Her maiden name was Laker.”

  “So what does that mean?”

  “The name on the property deed for the farm is Wilson Laker.”

  Marla drew in a sharp intake of breath. “She’s related to the owner on record?”

  “It appears that way. The question is, does Zach know?”

  “He didn’t see the lease until after his father died. That’s when he realized the farm might not belong to them.”

  “By then, he and Grace were married,” Dalton said. “It wasn’t her first time at the rodeo. She might have gone by her married name when she met him.”

  “How did they meet each other?”

  “I don’t know, but I’d like to find out. Grace has agreed to meet me at the deli in Davie. I’d like you to come along to soften her up.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Grace didn’t look happy to see them when they arrived at the deli, where she’d already gotten a table. At three o’clock in the afternoon, the crowd had diminished and they almost had the place to themselves. Marla and Dalton took seats opposite the blonde and waited while the waitress filled their water glasses.

  “What is it that’s so urgent, Detective?” Grace glanced from Dalton to Marla and bit her lower lip as she regarded them with anxious blue eyes.

  “We’d like to know how you met your husband, Mrs. Kinsdale.”

  “Zach?” She gave a nervous laugh. “That’s easy. He’d lost his first wife, Lucy.” She noticed their startled glances. “Oh, you didn’t realize he’d been married before? So was I, to a good-for-nothing jerk. Anyway, I’d been divorced and Zach had been widowed. He was left with an infant son. Yes, Rory isn’t mine. You’ve seen his red hair? He got that from his mother. The other kids are mine and Zach’s.”

  “Does Rory know this?” Marla inquired.

  “Zach hasn’t told him yet. I’ve loved and raised him as my own son. Anyway, I had my friends scouting for prospects after my divorce, and Zach’s name came up. Being a single father is never easy. He’d be looking for a new wife.”

  “Tell me,” Dalton said in a casual tone, “did you go by your maiden name when you met, or were you using your married one?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “I guess it wouldn’t have mattered since Zach had no idea his family didn’t own the farm. But yours did, isn’t that so?”

  The waitress chose that moment to interrupt. The three of them ordered coffee, while Dalton asked for a slice of homemade peach pie.

  “So you’ve discovered my secret,” Grace stated after they’d been left alone. “When my father passed, I didn’t know anything about the farm or the lease agreement. Payments must have stopped earlier when Hank Kinsdale died, but my father was sick by then. Probably he lacked the energy to track down Hank’s next of kin. We owned a number of properties and made substantial income from the rentals. When Dad got ill, this lease must have slipped through the cracks.”

  “How did you find out about it?” Dalton asked.

  “I was sorting through my father’s business papers. This happened before my divorce, and I was going through a bad time. I couldn’t deal with any more problems.”

  “So you let it go?” Dalton’s face brightened when the server brought their orders. He dug into his slice of pie with alacrity.

  “I reviewed the lease terms. Hank had an option to buy, and I thought maybe he’d purchased the land and the bill of sale was missing from my father’s records. If not, Hank owed my father’s estate quite a bit of money. I’m an only child, my mother is deceased, and I’m the sole heir,” she explained. “I didn’t follow up until I was single again.”

  “How much time had passed?” Marla said.

  “A few years. I found out that Hank Kinsdale had died. His sons ran the farm. I had two choices at that point. I could engage a lawyer and pursue the money they owed us, or I could assess the situation for myself. I decided to meet Zach without telling him about our connection. Did he intend to make a squatter’s claim, or did he have proof that his dad had bought the property?”

  “That’s when you learned he had no clue his family didn’t own the place?”

  “Yes, the poor guy was totally ignorant. He was also a hunk. I liked his forthright manner, and his redheaded kid was a doll. It didn’t take much for me to fall for him. So I chose to remain silent, because after all, the land would sort of belong to him through marriage.”

  “Why didn’t you reveal your identity when he was searching for proof of ownership?”

  Grace bent her head. “He’d accuse me of deceit or worse. I should have confessed earlier. Then he wouldn’t worry about the farm’s title. It’s my fault I kept quiet until now.”

  “What about the legal process he’s begun? Are you going to let him proceed without telling him it’s unnecessary? You could sell his family the property for a dollar, or whatever the law allows in that regard,” Marla suggested.

  Grace met Marla’s gaze. “What do you think I should do?”

  “It’s always best to come clean,” Dalton advised. “A marriage shouldn’t be based on lies. Why don’t you consult a real estate attorney and see if you can transfer the deed or add your husband as co-owner?”

  Grace straightened in her chair, an expression of hope in her eyes. “Why, that’s a wonderful idea, Detective. I could use the same lawyer he’s hired. That guy is sharp, and he’ll know what to do if I see him privately. By rights, Zach’s siblings should be included, too.”

  Marla smiled at her. “There you go. A solution that works for everyone.”

  Arnie would be pleased. Once these machinations took place, Rory and his family would feel secure. Maybe down the road, when his kids left the nest, he’d consider that bed-and-breakfast idea she’d suggested.

  Outside, Marla gave a weary grunt as she leveraged into the car. Everything seemed to be such an effort these days. Maybe the multivitamins the doctor had suggested would give her more energy.

  “It doesn’t seem as though we’re any closer to nailing the bad guy,” she said in a discouraged tone.

  Dalton had a thoughtful frown on his face a
s he put the sedan in gear. “I still think Tony Winters is involved. He has the most to lose if his company is busted.”

  Marla waited until he’d pulled out of their parking space. He always backed in, so he could leave quickly if necessary. It seemed to be a cop habit, like sitting against the wall in a restaurant, facing the entrance. “According to Tristan, the former executive chef at The Royal Palate left rather abruptly. Maybe you should talk to him.”

  “You’re right. I also want to check to see if Winters is under investigation by another agency. If his company is engaged in consumer fraud, he’s their representative here. That would make him responsible, whether he’s aware or not of what’s going on.”

  “Oh, he’s aware. Maybe he wants out, and his relatives are coming to deal with him.”

  “Then he should admit what he knows before they get here. I still mean to look for that missing camera. It’s not in our evidence stash. I’ll check with the farm as you suggested, but it’s a long shot. Your idea to look online for pictures from the festival is a good one. We can do that from home.”

  “What’s next on your agenda?” Marla settled restlessly in her seat as they entered the main highway heading east. It would take them home faster than the back roads.

  “I need to have another talk with Mr. Abubakar. He wasn’t being entirely truthful with us. How about you?”

  “I’ll be busy at the salon for the next few days.” Anxious for the doctor’s report, she wouldn’t be able to focus on crime-solving until her test results came in.

  Dalton’s phone call the next day provided a distraction.

  “I found out where the former executive chef works,” he said, having caught her at work in between clients. “He has a position at The Green Lizard. I’ve made us a reservation for seven-thirty tonight.”

  “What about Brianna?”

  “I’ve texted her, and she wants to go.”

  “Okay, great. Shall I pick her up and meet you there, or will you come home first?”

 

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