by Diana Miller
Mike’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that’s what was done?”
“I don’t,” Ben said. “Those are the easiest ways to tamper with brakes.”
“We just happened to find the emergency brake cut and a puddle of fluid in the parking lot where her car had been.”
Ben raised his chin and narrowed his own eyes. “Are you charging me with this?” He sounded as belligerent as he felt.
Mike unfolded his arms and took a step away from the wall, his flaccid features stony. Ben should have remembered a challenge always made Mike dig in. “Not yet. But I’d advise you to stay away from Catherine Barrington. Because if anything else happens to her, I’ll be back.”
# # #
Lexie answered a knock on her motel room door later that morning to find Cecilia standing there.
“Could I talk to you for a minute, Lexie? Sorry, I mean Catherine.”
“Lexie’s fine. Come in.” Lexie gestured to the shabby tan upholstered chair in the corner. “Have a seat.”
Cecilia sat down, and then surveyed the room. “This is supposed to be the only decent motel in town. I guess ‘decent’ is a relative term.”
Which was true. Between its monochromatic color scheme, stark furnishings, and slight odor of disinfectant, it had all the ambiance of a public restroom. “On the plus side, it’s clean,” Lexie said. At least as clean as you could get a room with carpeting and furnishings she’d bet were older than she was.
She sat down on the edge of the bed. “What can I do for you?”
“I heard about your accident,” Cecilia said. “We could hear the ambulance and police cars at Nevermore, so Jeremy and I drove down to check what had happened. The cops refused to tell us anything, even who’d been hurt, until I recognized your rental car. Then they said you were fine and had been brought to your motel.”
“I got a couple of bruises, but nothing serious.” Lexie frowned, which made the bruise on her forehead ache. “It’s a little ironic how close I came to re-creating the way we originally thought Max died.”
“It’s horrible,” Cecilia said. “I stopped by to make sure you really are okay and see if you need anything. A ride to pick up a replacement car? Or anywhere else?”
“Thanks, but the rental company’s having another car delivered here, since the brake failure could have been a problem they missed when they last checked the car.”
Cecilia’s dark eyes widened, and she pressed her fingers against her lips. “Oh my God. Your brakes went out? I assumed you were going too fast and missed the curve.”
Lexie shook her head. “When I pushed on the brakes, they wouldn’t work.”
Cecilia touched Lexie’s arm. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”
“Me, too,” Lexie said, and then met Cecilia’s eyes. “I want to apologize for lying about my identity.”
“I understand. You were doing it for Grandfather,” Cecilia said. “I am a little hurt that you haven’t called me since you moved out of Nevermore. I thought we were friends, but maybe you were just pretending so you could figure out if I killed Grandfather.”
“I figured out pretty early that you weren’t guilty, and I’d honestly like to be your friend,” Lexie said. “I didn’t call because I wasn’t sure you’d want to talk to me after the way I misled you.”
“Like I said, I understand,” Cecilia said. “Do you think Ben’s guilty? Is that why you haven’t talked to him?”
Lexie blinked. She’d never considered that anyone might think that. “Of course he isn’t guilty. I haven’t talked to him because I don’t have any reason to.” She smiled humorlessly. “I thought we were working together to find Max’s murderer, but he withheld the little detail that Max wasn’t even dead.”
“So he lied to you the same way you lied to me,” Cecilia said. “I’m willing to forgive you because you did it for Grandfather, because you felt like you owed it to him. That’s the same way Ben felt.”
“I’ve been trying to find out who killed Max, since I know Ben didn’t,” Lexie said. “ I was on my way to Nevermore this morning to ask you a couple of questions.”
“Shoot.”
Lexie smiled faintly. “You must have read my mind, because my first question is about the murder weapon. The cops said Max kept the gun in the basement. Who knew that?”
“I assume everyone did,” Cecilia said. “Grandfather had bookshelves full of things related to his writing. The gun was there in plain sight for years, along with ammunition. You had to pass by it to get to the laundry room, the wine cellar, and the beer refrigerator.”
“Did anyone ever say or do anything that might indicate he or she knew your grandfather was alive? Or do anything else suspicious?”
Cecilia chewed her lower lip for a moment. “Not that I can think of,” she finally said. “It’s hard to imagine any of my relatives giving Grandfather arsenic or shooting through Nevermore’s window, let alone shooting him at close range. What about Dylan’s loan shark?”
“I’m checking him out,” Lexie said. “If you think of anything that might be related to Max’s murder, even something insignificant, please call me.”
“I will. I’ll do whatever I can to help Ben.”
“By the way, did you ever go out with Peter?”
Cecilia nodded, chewing her lower lip again. “It was a disaster.”
“I’m sorry. Did he turn out to be a jerk or just boring?”
“He turned out to be wonderful.”
Lexie’s eyebrows rose. “I think I missed something here.”
“He’s the nicest, most considerate man I’ve ever met.” Cecilia was wringing her hands together. “He’s traveled all over and is interested in all sorts of things. He made me laugh and asked my opinion about things and really listened to what I said. And he’s the world’s best kisser. Probably the best at everything else, too, although we didn’t do anything more than kiss.”
“Why’s that a problem?” Cecilia’s distraught tone and obvious agitation were at complete odds with her words.
“I was supposed to have a lousy time, so then I wouldn’t have to worry about telling him I’ve been divorced three times. Instead I’m going out with him again tonight. What should I do?”
Lexie had forgotten that concern. “If you like him, you need to tell him the truth,” she said. “Explain that your mother convinced you that you were like her and needed a man to support you. So you’d marry one wrong man, get divorced, and immediately latch onto another because you were afraid you’d starve otherwise.”
Cecilia’s hands halted. “That sounds like something Ben would say.”
“Ben did say it. You can also tell Peter that you’ve changed and are determined to do something more with your life. Volunteer work or maybe go back to college and have a career. If he still rejects you because of your past, he doesn’t deserve you. But I’ll bet he’ll understand.”
Lexie’s lecture was interrupted by her cell phone. “I should take that. It’s the police.” She answered. “I see,” she said when the cop on the other end finished talking. “Thanks.”
“Is something wrong?” Cecilia asked after Lexie had hung up.
Lexie’s stomach was whirling like a Jacuzzi on overdrive, but she shook her head. “I need to sign another form, but it can wait until my new rental shows up.”
Cecilia got to her feet. “I almost forgot—I also wanted to invite you to sherry hour and dinner tomorrow night. Grandfather didn’t want a funeral, but we wanted to do something to celebrate him and his life. I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before.”
“Seeing his dead body makes his death a lot more real,” Lexie said. “I’ll be there.”
After Cecilia left, Lexie bent over, her head between her legs. The churning in her stomach had spread, and she was feeling a little dizzy. Panicky.
She didn’t know why she hadn’t told Cecilia the truth. It was bound to come out. But saying the words would make it real, the same way seeing Max’s dead body had.
And she didn’t want this to be real.
According to the cops, someone had made a hole in her brake line and also cut the emergency brake. J.P. was right. She’d managed to upset someone, and that someone had tried to kill her.
# # #
“How’s Lexie doing?” Walt asked, setting an open bottle of Summit in front of Ben. “I heard about her accident.”
After Mike had left, Ben had needed to get out of the garage. He’d told Trudy he was going to get an early lunch and headed to Walt’s. He was in the mood for a liquid lunch. “I haven’t talked to her, but apparently she’s fine. She was lucky it wasn’t worse.” Ben took a long swig of Summit pale ale.
“I heard that, too,” Walt said. He tapped his knuckles against his chin a few times, looking unusually serious. “I’m not all that sure it was luck.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think maybe your grandfather had a hand in saving her.”
“Grandfather’s dead,” Ben said. “Really dead, this time.”
Walt rested his beefy hands on the bar in front of Ben and leaned over it. “I’m talking about his ghost,” he whispered.
“You believe in ghosts?”
Before answering, Walt looked across the room at the only other customers, two men with buzz cuts and beer guts who were sitting at one of the tables. They were involved in an animated conversation of their own. “Not usually, but Max always was a determined bastard,” Walt said, his voice still low. “He’s also bound to feel like he should protect Lexie, seeing as how he got her into this. Especially since her trouble happened on his property.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with it, no matter what you heard.” Ben took another drink.
“Course you didn’t,” Walt said in a normal tone. “You’d never do something like that. And why the hell would you want to hurt Lexie when she’s trying to clear you?”
Ben slammed his bottle down on the bar. “Lexie’s trying to clear me?”
Walt nodded. “She asked me to let her know if I heard anything that might be related to Max’s murder. Asked Ruby and the gals at The Clothes Garden to do the same thing. She said she knows you aren’t guilty, and our cops are idiots, so it’s up to her to find out who did it. She didn’t exactly come out and call the cops idiots, but that’s what she meant.”
Lexie didn’t think he’d killed Grandfather. The vise that had been crushing Ben’s chest since his arrest loosened a little.
“It’s probably none of my business, but I think you’re as big an idiot as our cops,” Walt continued. “Taking back your ex-wife instead of sticking with Lexie. I mean, Lexie might be a big-city lawyer, but she’s nice and not a bit stuck up. She’s a lot like her aunt was. And I don’t know her real well, but I can’t see Lexie taking up with Jeremy the way that ex-wife of yours did. Though like I said, it’s none of my business.”
Ben grinned for probably the first time since he’d seen his grandfather’s murdered body. “When has that ever stopped you?”
Walt grinned back, wide enough to expose a missing tooth. “Probably never, least not when it comes to people I care about.”
“Thanks, Walt.” For more than the beer. Ben put a five on the bar.
Walt handed the bill back to him. “It’s on the house. Take care of yourself.”
# # #
“I wanted to tell you that I didn’t tamper with your brakes. No matter what the cops think.”
Lexie felt a hint of disappointment that Ben’s call hadn’t been motivated by concern about her. However, her predominant emotion was annoyance. “I should have guessed they’d assume that since you’re an auto mechanic, you must be guilty. They’re too dumb to realize that if you wanted to hurt someone, you’d never do it that way because you’d be the first person suspected. And what’s your motive for wanting me dead?”
“To get rid of you before you find more evidence I’m guilty.”
“Except I know you didn’t do it,” she said. “I’m looking for evidence that someone else did it. I’ll call the cops and tell them that.”
“A waste of time.”
“You’re probably right.” Lexie heard a car drive up outside and checked out the window. A UPS truck that she doubted was delivering her new rental.
“How do you know I’m not guilty?” Ben asked.
“If you were, you’d have been smart enough to destroy Max’s note and hide the gun somewhere besides your pickup. More important, you loved your grandfather too much to ever kill him.”
“Thanks. It’s a relief to have you on my side.”
She couldn’t believe he’d honestly thought she suspected him, even after what Cecilia had implied. “Don’t be too relieved,” she said. “I haven’t found out much. Do you have time to meet? I’d like your advice about what I should investigate next.”
“My advice is that you quit investigating and go back to Philadelphia,” Ben said. “Not because I’m scared you’ll find evidence implicating me, but for your own safety. Someone tried to kill you.”
“I doubt the intent was to kill me,” Lexie said. “The brakes could just as well have gone out when I was driving slowly and on level ground.” A few hours had made her more rational about that—or maybe just more willing to engage in wishful thinking.
“Well, someone wanted to scare you and didn’t care if you got hurt,” Ben said. “I’ll hire a P.I. to investigate. My lawyer wants me to anyway.”
“People around here will talk to me more than they will a P.I.,” Lexie said. “If someone’s worried about me, I must be getting close. I’ll be careful, but I need to do this. I owe it to Max. And I could use your help.”
Ben was silent for a moment. “We’ll need to meet privately,” he finally said. “When the cops questioned me about your brakes, they also warned me to stay away from you.”
That sparked Lexie’s temper yet again. “They have no legal right to do that.” Maybe it was being stuck in this depressing motel room all day waiting for that damn car, but the local cops seemed more irritating than usual.
“I know they don’t have a right, but I’d rather not piss them off,” Ben said. “And isn’t talking to me some sort of conflict of interest?”
“I’m talking to all the beneficiaries, at the request of the trustee.”
“I’m the one accused of murder.”
“You haven’t been convicted of anything.”
“I’ve got some paperwork to do after the garage closes, so I’m skipping sherry hour and dinner tonight,” Ben said. “Could you come by at six thirty?”
She could if her rental had arrived by then. Although if it hadn’t, she just might have to call the cops, tell them what she thought about their suspicions of Ben, and ask them to do something useful for a change—like give her a ride to his garage. “I’ll see you at six thirty.”
CHAPTER 19
At 6:28 p.m., Lexie pulled her new rental car into Ben’s garage, parking beside a rusty white pickup. She was a little apprehensive about seeing him, but that was only natural. She was embarrassed about their one-night stand now that she’d reverted to Catherine, especially since he was back with his wife. She was also still upset about the way he’d misled her.
Her top priority was finding Max’s murderer, though, and Ben was the person most likely to be able to help. She grabbed her purse and notepad and got out of the car.
“How are you feeling?” Ben’s voice and expression held genuine concern, but it was undoubtedly motivated by guilt—guilt that her accident wouldn’t have happened if he’d told her the truth about Max, not because he was the one who’d tampered with her brakes.
“Not bad,” she said as she accompanied him to his office. “I was very lucky.”
“Walt’s convinced it was more than luck,” Ben said. “He thinks Grandfather had a hand in saving you since he was responsible for getting you involved in this.”
Lexie sat down on a folding chair. “I think Walt’s been sampling his special a little too freely.”
>
Ben opened the refrigerator and got her a water. Then he popped open a can of Coke and sat down on the other chair.
“Do you want to tell me your ideas first, or should I tell you what I’ve learned?” Lexie asked, pleased she sounded coolly professional. She needed to treat this like the business meeting it essentially was.
Ben met her eyes. “First I want to apologize. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you Grandfather was alive. For what it’s worth, I tried several times to convince him to let you in on it, but he refused. I could have told you anyway, I guess, but Grandfather told me I owed him for taking me in when I was thirteen.”
“Max was good with the guilt card,” Lexie said. “As Cecilia pointed out, I was doing the exact same thing, lying to everyone in the house because your grandfather wanted me to. But you certainly could have told me you were an ex-I-banker and Harvard grad.”
“Why’s that a big deal? Did you sleep with me just to get back at your mother since you thought I was a mere mechanic?” His blue eyes had turned stormy, his tone anger-meets-bitterness.
“Of course not,” Lexie said, anger at his assumption edging her own voice. “But it would have made sense for you to have a smart girlfriend no matter who you normally dated, so I wouldn’t have made a fool out of myself pretending to be someone I wasn’t.” Memory clogged her throat, and she took a hard swallow of water. “The whole thing made me feel like when I found out my husband had been cheating. I swore I’d never be that foolish again.”
“Why did you feel foolish?” Ben asked. “Olivia’s cheating made me feel a lot of things, but not that, even though her partner was my own cousin.”
“Because I learned about it from my mother, who’d heard it at our country club. She wanted to know why I hadn’t mentioned it and what I was doing to win Neil back, since Barringtons didn’t get divorced.” Lexie’s hand tightened around her bottled water. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was to admit I hadn’t told her because I didn’t have a clue it was going on? Especially since it was apparently common knowledge at the country club.”
