by Jessica Beck
She had a point. “Have you ever had a problem with burglars?”
“Of course not. Don’t you see? That means it’s working.”
It was a skewed sense of logic, but I’d heard worse over the years. As the three of us entered her formal living room, Jean said, “I’d offer you coffee, but I’m afraid I’m all out. I find I don’t have the heart to shop.”
“Would it help if I got some for you?” Grace volunteered, surprising me.
“That would be delightful. If I may, could I impose on you to pick up a few other things? It was Desmond’s shopping day today. I don’t know what I’ll do without him.” She looked as though she were on the verge of crying, but she managed to hold it back at the last second.
“Make a list, and I’ll take care of it,” Grace said.
“Wonderful. I’ll be back in flash,” Jean said.
As soon as she was gone, I turned to Grace. “What’s going on?”
“She knows you, Suzanne, but I’m a stranger to her. Surely you saw how disappointed she was when I showed up, too, didn’t you? I’ve got a hunch that Jean will speak a great deal more freely if I’m not here. Besides, it wouldn’t kill me to help her out. She seems so lost.”
“She is,” I said. I leaned over and hugged my friend.
“What was that for?” Grace asked.
“For being such a good friend,” I said, “to me, and anyone else who needs one.”
“You’re all very welcome,” Grace said.
Two minutes later Jean reappeared with a list, and a single hundred-dollar bill. “That should cover it, and as I always told Desmond, you may keep the change.”
I glanced at what she’d written over Grace’s shoulder and realized that it would be some tip, more than the cost of the items listed.
“That’s not necessary,” Grace said.
Jean frowned, and then snatched the hundred back. I was amazed by how quickly she’d moved. “It’s the only way I’ll hear of it,” she said.
Grace knew it would be crazy to fight it. “As you wish.”
Jean nodded and began to hand her back the bill, but Grace wouldn’t take it.
Jean looked perplexed. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to know that it’s okay with you if I donate what’s left to the April Springs Humane Society. I was talking to Patty Lee yesterday, and she told me they were low on just about everything and needed donations.”
Jean nodded. “One moment.” She returned a few seconds later with another, matching hundred in her hand. “Please pass this along, as well.”
“I wasn’t fishing for donations,” Grace said.
“Then be glad you caught one, anyway,” Jean said. “I love animals. In many ways, they’re the only ones we can really trust, aren’t they?”
I didn’t know about that, but I wasn’t going to counter her argument. If I tried, Grace would never get out of there.
“Back soon,” Grace said, and then walked out the door.
“She’s quite kind, isn’t she?” Jean asked once my best friend was gone.
“Grace has a big heart, a quick wit, and a wicked sense of humor,” I admitted.
“Desmond would have liked her,” Jean said, tearing up a little. I didn’t think there was a prayer that the two of them would have gotten along, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.
I was about to say something else when Jean added, “I was so happy when he finally broke up with that awful Katie Wilkes.”
“Had they been dating long?” I asked. She might be a perfect suspect. There was nothing like a romantic interest scorned, whether man or woman, to bring out the “crazy” in folks who ordinarily were quite sound of mind.
“For nearly two years. Katie was under the impression that they were engaged, and when Desmond told her three days ago that it wasn’t the case, she screamed at him in front of me. It was awful to witness; I’ve got to tell you it nearly broke my heart to hear the things that she said.”
“Desmond meant the world to you, didn’t he?”
She nodded, and then sighed deeply before going on. “I don’t know how I’m going to function without him. I suppose Jenny will do, as little as I like the girl. Goodness knows she’s hinted enough times that she would be thrilled to live with me here if I ever needed her.”
That name was new to me. “May I ask who Jenny is?”
Jean motioned toward a picture frame, and I saw a plain-looking woman with mousy brown hair and a pointy chin staring back at me. “She’s Desmond’s cousin. Jenny Ray is a bit cloying for my taste, always too eager to please. Desmond was never afraid to speak his mind, and we had some spirited discussions after he moved in here with me, but it made me feel alive. Jenny, I’m afraid, has the spine of her mother, and my late dear sister was many things, but she never possessed a backbone in her life. I have health issues, though, so I suppose it’s necessary for her to move in.” Another tear tracked down her cheek. “I don’t know how I’m going to face cleaning out Desmond’s room. The police were here until late last night, and they told me they were finished with it, but what do I do now?”
“Grace and I can take care of it for you, if you’d like,” I blurted out. I knew my friend wouldn’t mind me volunteering her services for the duty with me. We’d learned early on that there was no better way to get to know someone than to pack away their things.
“I could never ask you to do that,” Jean said. She looked shocked by the idea, but I couldn’t let this opportunity pass us by, especially since the police were finished with their examination.
“You aren’t asking, I’m volunteering,” I said. “You shouldn’t have to face this, and you just said you need Jenny here.” I looked around the room, surprised she hadn’t already staked her claim on her aunt. “Where is she, by the way?”
“She’s in Tampa visiting friends,” Jean admitted. “I was honestly surprised she had anyone that close to her. I just got in touch with her this morning, but she promised to be here by tonight.”
“Then there’s no time to waste,” I said. “As soon as Grace gets back, we’ll get started.”
“I can pay you,” Jean offered.
“Tell you what. Your earlier donation to the Humane Society will cover our fees.”
“I’ll double it,” Jean said, “and not another word about it. I’m afraid I won’t be able to help you at all. It’s not just my health. My soul couldn’t bear it.”
I had no problem believing that. “How about if we keep a box of personal items for you and we can donate or toss the rest.”
“It sounds as though you were heaven-sent.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I had ulterior motives making the offer. After all, why should I? We were indeed doing her a service by taking care of Desmond’s things, and if we happened to stumble upon a clue or two while we were doing it, so much the better.
“While we’re waiting for Grace, may I ask you something else?” I asked.
“Certainly,” Jean answered.
“Had Desmond been fighting with anyone besides Katie recently?”
Jean frowned. “Do you mean besides that awful Gabby Williams?”
I didn’t know how to reply to that, and Jean must have seen something in my gaze. “Suzanne, I don’t hold your friendship with her against you. It says more about your kind heart than it does her wicked ways. I don’t believe for one moment that the cruller incident was your fault.”
I was glad she could see that, but even though I knew I was endangering our investigation, I couldn’t let the slam on Gabby go without commenting on it. “Jean, I can’t imagine her stealing from you,” I said.
As predicted, her face clouded over. “If she didn’t take the money and the brooch, then where could they be? I distinctly remember giving Desmond the jacket, thinking that I had forgotten something important about it, but handing it over just the same. It wasn’t until he returned that I remembered the cash and the brooch. She had to have taken it.”
I c
ould think of another possibility, that Desmond had checked the pockets himself before turning the coat over to Gabby and kept the swag for himself, but I couldn’t bring myself to taint his image in her eyes without more solid proof than idle speculation.
It was time to get back on track. “Besides Gabby,” I asked, “who else might make the list?”
She frowned, and then said, “Don’t think I haven’t been considering that very question myself since early this morning. I could come up with only two names.”
I must have moved up to the edge of my seat as I asked, “Would you mind sharing them with me?”
“Why are you so suddenly curious about Desmond?” she asked.
I wasn’t going to admit that I was investigating his murder on Gabby’s behalf. I thought about what I could say, but then she answered for me. “You feel as though your crullers may have played a part in his murder. Is that it? No, I know. You saw him yesterday, and the two of you had words. He told me all about what happened, and I assured him that he was wrong in his assessment of you. In fact, he was planning to stop by Donut Hearts and issue you a formal apology today. I’m just sorry he never had the opportunity to do it.”
“It’s not necessary,” I said. “I would like to find out what happened to him. Now, about those two names?”
She nodded. “After Desmond left you and Gabby, he ran into an old childhood friend of his, a man he’d had a falling-out with over the past few years. His name is Allen Davis.”
“Do you know why they fought?”
“Over that tart, Katie,” she said. Jean had a deep level of disdain when she spoke the name, and I wondered how Katie had managed to get so thoroughly on her bad side. “It’s amazing to me how one bad woman can get between two good men.”
“Or vice versa,” I said, remembering an instance in the past where two good women had fought over one bad man.
Jean nodded. “Yes, I know that’s true. You wanted the other name, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, hoping she’d tell me before Grace returned from the store.
“Against my advice, Desmond did some business in Hudson Creek with a man named Bill Rodgers. I’m not exactly certain what it involved, but the man came to my doorstep three days ago demanding that I pay full restitution for the money he’d lost in the venture with Desmond.”
“What did you do?”
“I showed him the door,” Jean said. “Desmond was quite unhappy when I told him what had happened, and he promised me that I’d never have to deal with the Rodgers man again.”
“Any idea what the business was?” I asked.
“I haven’t a clue. I just know I wasn’t about to pay him fifty thousand dollars for an obligation I hadn’t taken on.”
I was about to press her further when there was a knock at the door. Jean looked troubled as it continued. “People have been knocking all day, but I can’t bear to see anyone.”
“Would you like me to take care of it?” I asked.
“That would be wonderful,” she said as she settled back on the couch.
I walked to the front door and opened it, prepared to rebuff any and all visitors.
Then I saw that it was Grace.
“Can I give you a hand?” I asked as I held the door open for her.
“There’s a tray of coffees in the car. Would you mind grabbing them for me?”
“Not at all.”
As I retrieved the coffee, I found Grace waiting on the porch for me. “I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to answer the door, Suzanne. What took you so long?” she asked in a muted voice.
“I was sleuthing,” I admitted. “Do me a favor and go along with whatever I say, okay?”
Grace’s eyes lit up. “You’ve got it.” I knew she was always up for a chance to stretch her acting skills. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it was her cleaning abilities I’d be using instead.
Grace carried the grocery bags in, and I handed Jean a cup of coffee.
“Bless you, Suzanne,” she said as she took it from me.
“Don’t bless me; Grace is the one who brought them.”
Jean smiled again, but then it died just as suddenly, as though she’d forgotten, for just an instant, the murder. “Then bless you both.”
“Should I put these away for you?” Grace asked.
“I’ll do it myself,” Jean replied.
“I don’t mind, really I don’t,” Grace replied.
“Dear, then how will I ever find anything? Besides, you and Suzanne have enough to do as it is.”
Even though I’d warned her that something was coming, she looked slightly confused. “We do?”
“You’d better have a chat about it while I take care of these groceries,” Jean said as she went into the kitchen and began putting things away.
I turned to Grace and said, “We’re going to clean Desmond’s room so his cousin can move in tonight. Do you have a few hours to spare?”
Grace looked at her watch. “That would be fine. I just have to be home by six.”
“Are you going out again tonight?” I asked. She hadn’t said a word about that to me on the drive over to Jean’s house.
“I can cancel it if I need to,” she said, though it was clear that she’d be reluctant to do so.
“Nonsense, we’ll have plenty of time. It’s just one room.” I went to kitchen and asked Jean, “That’s right, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it shouldn’t take long. Would you mind getting started? I want to have fresh linens on the bed when Jenny arrives.”
“Who’s Jenny?” Grace asked.
“I’ll tell you as we clean,” I said. “Jean, do you happen to have any boxes around here?”
“Check the pantry,” she said as she pointed to a door directly off the kitchen.
I opened it, and was stunned to find a stocked storage area that was nearly as large as Jean’s kitchen. I wasn’t sure what major disaster she’d been preparing for, but I was certain she’d be able to handle it, including flood or famine. Sure enough, there were a few large empty boxes stored under one of the shelving units.
“Thanks,” I said as I retrieved them. “Grace, we should get started.”
I turned to Jean, who was openly crying now. As much as I wanted to snoop around in Desmond’s room, I didn’t want to cause this woman any more pain than I had to. “Are you sure about this?”
She nodded. “It’s like a bandage, isn’t it? It’s best to rip it off in one motion and allow yourself to start healing.”
“Let’s go, Grace,” I said, and then turned back to Jean. “Where exactly is his room?”
“It’s just down the hall, the second door on the right. You can’t miss it. It’s the only door in the house that’s ever shut. I just can’t tolerate a closed door.”
I wasn’t sure how much we’d be able to talk if Jean was so close by, but I had to respect her wishes. I was about to say as much when she added, “I know it might feel a bit claustrophobic, but would you mind keeping it closed as you work? I don’t want to know what you’re doing.”
“We’ll be glad to oblige,” I said.
Before we started down the hall, Jean said, “I can’t thank you enough for doing this, both of you.”
“We’re just glad we can help,” I said.
We were still outside the door when Grace hesitated. “Is there anything in particular we’re looking for?”
“Anything that might explain why Desmond was murdered last night,” I said.
CHAPTER 7
“Are you sure a man lived here?” Grace asked as we walked into Desmond’s room.
“What do you mean?” I asked as I took in the neatly made bed, the carefully organized closet, and the immaculate floor.
“There’s no mess,” she said. “In all the time you were married, was Max ever this neat?”
I remembered my ex-husband’s housekeeping skills, or lack of them, and realized that she had a point. “I’ve heard there are neat men out there,�
� I said. “I’m willing to bet that Jake is neat.”
“I think I’d have a better chance running across a unicorn, myself,” Grace replied.
“At least it will make it easier to search,” I said. “One thing we can be sure of; Jean didn’t come in and straighten up after him. She could barely bring herself to tell us which door was his. They were close, weren’t they?”
“They seem to have been,” I said. “Do you want the closet, the dresser, or the desk?”
“I’ll take the desk,” Grace said. “That’s going to be the hot spot, don’t you think?”
I tended to agree with her, but I never really knew where I’d find a clue, so I started searching the other areas with equal enthusiasm.
“Check this out,” Grace said two minutes after we got started. “I found his checkbook ledger. This is going to tell us quite a bit about him.”
I started to look at it, but then realized that we had only a limited amount of time to search. “Tell you what. Why don’t you set it aside, and we’ll compare notes when we’re finished. Who knows how long Jean is going to let us clean. She might change her mind any second.”
Grace took a pillow off the bed and tossed it into one of the boxes we’d brought from the pantry. “There, we’re packing. Happy now?”
I just laughed at my friend, but she had the right idea. As I started to work on the dresser drawers, I began to empty them as I searched, putting the clothing in boxes for donation—only after checking all of the pockets first. There was a very real possibility that the police’s initial search had missed something important.
In the last drawer I opened, I found a photograph in a frame at the bottom below some folded shirts. I pulled it out and studied it, quickly recognizing the man as Desmond, though he had been younger when it had been taken. A nice-looking young lady with striking blond hair was beside him, and as I studied the edge of the photograph, I could see that someone, or something, had been removed. Carefully taking the photo out of its frame, I unfolded the snapshot and saw that there was a man on the other side of the woman, though the portion with his head had been torn away. The ragged edges of the photograph told me that it hadn’t been a careful excision by knife or scissors, but rather a hurried and, from the looks of it, passionate removal. Who had caused that kind of anger? Then I remembered what Jean had told me earlier. There was a good chance that the missing man was Allen Davis, and that would make the woman in question Katie Wilkes. I started to put the photo back in its frame, but on an impulse, I stuck it into my pocket without saying a word to Grace. As much as I wanted her to see it, I’d already squelched one of her finds, so I couldn’t very well point my first one out to her.
