by Diana Miller
She opened the drawer of the nightstand. A notepad, a pen, and a picture of Max and Jessica, standing in front of Nevermore. Her aunt must have been sixty, but she looked a couple of decades younger, her long blonde hair and flowing floral dress evidencing how very different she was from Lexie’s mother. Jessica and Max had their arms around each other and were smiling for the camera.
Lexie’s eyes filled. She couldn’t believe her aunt had been dead eight years. She still missed her so much, missed having someone to encourage her to do what she loved and live life on her own terms even when her mother disapproved. At least Jessica and Max were together again now.
Lexie set the photo back down in the drawer, then picked it up again. Something about it bothered her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. It was probably that this was the first picture she’d ever seen of Max and Jessica together. Their romance hadn’t been secret, but it had been private. Jessica had never talked much about Max, and other than being vaguely interested in him because he was famous, Lexie hadn’t cared enough to ask.
She returned the photo to the drawer, and then searched the rest of the room and the small attached bathroom. No hidden notes, pages, or anything else that could conceivably be a clue.
She could check out all the passages, but Ben had done that and found nothing. To be honest, she wasn’t anxious to search them. With her shaky sense of direction, she’d probably get lost and spend the rest of her life wandering around the nether regions of Nevermore.
She retraced her steps back through the main passage to the door, opened it, and stepped into the empty library. Then she sneaked up to the third floor to inspect Max’s bedroom.
Lexie had never been in Max’s bedroom before, so it didn’t remind her of him, which made things easier. She crossed the room to the dark wood armoire where Ben said he’d left messages for Max and opened the doors. Memories now bombarded her, triggered by the clothes hanging in the armoire, clothes that looked and smelled so much like Max. She made a quick check inside. Nothing. With a sigh of relief, she closed the doors, and then systematically examined the hardwood floor, the rug, the chair, inside the drawers, even under the mattress. More nothing. She got down on her hands and knees and shone her flashlight under the bed.
She found a button on the floor underneath the edge of the bed. She grabbed it and studied it for a moment. Small, white, and with four holes, it looked like it had come from a man’s shirt. In mystery books, buttons were always significant, but they usually weren’t quite so generic. Although who knows? Maybe she’d get lucky.
First she should make sure it wasn’t from one of Max’s shirts. The shirt he’d been wearing when he was killed had been blue denim with blue buttons—she’d never forget that. She hadn’t noticed any shirts in the secret room, so presumably he kept them all in here. Taking a deep breath, she went back to the armoire and opened the doors again.
Max had several shirts with buttons similar to the one she’d found, but none were missing, not even any of the spare buttons on the bottom of each shirt. She left his bedroom, taking the button with her and locking the door behind her.
She made it to Nevermore’s main floor without anyone spotting her, and then headed for the back door.
“Are you staying here again?”
Lexie stopped and turned to see Igor standing beside the door to the parlor, his features expressionless. His usual butler face, but today it triggered a chill that slithered up Lexie’s spine. He was strong enough to do her serious damage, and as far as she knew, she was otherwise alone at Nevermore with him.
And he could very well have murdered Max.
Why hadn’t she thought of that before? According to Cecilia, the housekeeper and cook were both longtime employees and almost family. Cecilia hadn’t mentioned Igor, though, and if he were the eighth butler, he might not have been at Nevermore long. Lexie didn’t know a thing about him, not even his real name. “I stopped by to talk to Cecilia, but she doesn’t seem to be around. I used the trustee’s key because I didn’t want to bother you.” If Igor were guilty, she certainly didn’t want him to suspect she’d been investigating or was working with Ben.
“Everyone is gone except for Seth. He’s in the dining room.”
The words warmed away Lexie’s chill—Igor would hardly risk murdering her with Seth so near. “How long have you worked here?”
He blinked. “Almost four months.” He blinked again.
“How did you get this job?”
More blinking. “Why?”
“I was curious how someone came to work for Max Windsor,” Lexie said.
“I applied for the job, and he hired me.” Igor’s face stayed butler expressionless, but he was blinking quite a bit, so maybe her questions were making him agitated. On the other hand, she’d never paid that much attention to him. Maybe he wore uncomfortable contacts.
“Are you a professional butler?” Lexie asked.
“Have I acted improperly?”
“Not at all. I was curious since I’ve never met a real butler before. Do you have to go to school for it? There’s a butlering school in London, isn’t there?”
“I don’t know. If you don’t need anything, I should return to my duties.”
She held out the button. “Is this yours? It looks like it’s from one of your shirts.”
He didn’t even bother looking down his nose at it. “I am not missing any buttons.” Then he turned and glided into the parlor.
“The butler did it” might be a cliché, but Igor was now officially on Lexie’s suspect list. He could have taken this job because for some unknown reason he hated Max. Igor served meals and would have had no trouble poisoning Max’s Easter dinner. He also could have shot out the living room window. He would have known about the gun that was kept in the basement. He had the soundless butler walk down, so he could easily have seen Max without Max realizing it.
Besides, Lexie didn’t trust anyone so organized he could swear he wasn’t missing a single button.
Trey had hired him and would know more about him. She’d ask him when she returned for dinner tonight.
Right now she needed to check out one last thing—the lakeshore where Max’s body had been found. She wasn’t about to trust that the police had been thorough. Who knows—she might even find a matching button.
Lexie followed the path, then stepped out of the trees onto the lakeshore and paused, her chest tightening. In her mind she could see Max lying there, a bloody hole in his chest. She closed her eyes, took a couple of deep breaths. Then she headed for the rocks and grass where Ben said he’d discovered the body. She looked around, found nothing.
When she’d finished, she sat down on the boulder she’d selected the first day she and Ben had met about the murder, staring at the sparkling water in front of her, at the lush forest across the lake. Her heart felt bruised. Max was dead, and it seemed somehow worse that he’d been murdered somewhere he obviously loved, somewhere this peaceful.
Somewhere this deserted.
Lexie shivered, wrapping her arms around herself, the sunny day suddenly ominous. Igor said the family was all gone, but someone could have returned. Or maybe Igor had followed her.
Her phone rang, piercing the silence and shocking her twitchy nerves. She jumped, and then checked the number.
“Sorry to hear about your accident,” J.P. said when she answered. “Hope you’re following my advice to be careful.”
“I am,” Lexie lied, since standing on a deserted lakeshore where she’d be an ideal target was the definition of a death wish. She had the urge to hurry back to Nevermore’s relative safety, but the trees could very well swallow her signal. J.P. wouldn’t have called solely to check on her health. “Did you learn something about Max’s murder?”
“Not exactly,” J.P. said. “I heard Ben got back with that ex-wife of his, so I looked into her. I was hoping to find something you could use to make her leave Ben alone or at least convince him he was a fool to pick her over you. I
lucked out.”
“What did you learn?”
“That she’s got a couple of problems. One, this past February she had a big investment tank and lost a bundle. And two, in March the SEC started investigating her. Not sure why, but word is she’s gonna be facing a major fine. We’re talking seven figures, plus mega attorney fees, which her company ain’t gonna pick up. So maybe her interest in Ben has a little something to do with his inheritance.”
“How do you know this?”
“I might not be the Mafia, but I’ve got connections. One more thing. The broad showed up at Lakeview for the first time the day Ben was arrested, right?”
“Right. She flew in from New York and came to the jail to pay his bail.”
“She didn’t fly in from New York. She’d been staying at the Lake Superior Inn in Grand Marais for a couple of days. Less than thirty miles from Lakeview.”
“Are you sure?”
“Like I said, I got connections. She hasn’t been alone there, either. Day after she got there she had a visitor. Ben’s cousin Jeremy.”
# # #
“I need to talk to you.”
Ben turned from the Ford Focus he’d just finished servicing and looked at Trey. “If you need a rush repair, you’ve got great timing. I just finished today’s last job.”
“That’s not why I’m here,” Trey said.
“What do you need?” Ben asked when Trey didn’t elaborate.
Trey hesitated, which was out of character. He always seemed so confident, so sure of what he was doing. “Lexie says I should tell the police about it, and she may be right,” he finally said. “About the fight I overheard you have with your grandfather right before Easter. The fight where Max threatened to disinherit you.”
Ben slammed the Ford’s hood shut. Damn. “You’re right. We should talk.”
CHAPTER 21
She hadn’t missed sherry hour, Lexie thought as she stood in the parlor of Nevermore that evening, sipping a glass of white wine and talking to Cecilia. And this one was more annoying than usual. So what if she and Ben had agreed they shouldn’t let anyone know they were again working together—let alone sleeping together. He was getting a little carried away pretending to be enthralled with Olivia. Lucky for him, his eyes were on Olivia’s face, not her plunging neckline.
Cecilia grabbed Lexie’s arm. “Let’s go talk to Ben.”
Lexie dug in her heels. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I told him you don’t think he’s guilty, if that’s why you want to avoid him.” Cecilia marched across the parlor to Ben and Olivia, dragging Lexie along.
“Cecilia,” Ben said, pointedly ignoring Lexie. “How’s Peter? I haven’t seen him since the street dance.”
“He’s fine,” Cecilia said. “We went out to dinner last night.”
“I’d love to meet him, especially if he might be a member of our family soon,” Olivia said. She shifted deliberately so that her barely covered left breast rested against Ben’s arm.
“I think that’s pushing things a little,” Cecilia said.
Olivia nodded. “You probably want to take your time before you get married again. Now that you’re an heiress, you have to make sure you aren’t being married for your fortune.”
“I was referring to the fact you’re not a member of our family.” Cecilia’s disdainful look and tone would have made Lexie’s mother proud.
Olivia wasn’t fazed. “I’ve always considered myself a member of your family.” She brushed her fingertips over Ben’s cheek. “I’m hoping to become an official one again very soon.”
Ben smiled down at Olivia. “This isn’t the place to discuss that.”
Lexie pressed her arms against her sides, fighting the urge to slug him. Granted, she and Ben were just having a vacation-type fling, and Barringtons didn’t do jealousy—Rule Number 21—but really.
“Aren’t you going to greet Lexie, Ben?” Cecilia asked.
“It’s nice to see you again,” he said, barely sparing her a glance.
Olivia fastened both hands around Ben’s arm in an obvious show of possession. “I thought you’d have left by now, Lexie.”
“The trustee wants me to stick around a while longer.”
“Has anyone asked for Grandfather’s ’67 Corvette yet? “ Ben asked, finally meeting Lexie’s eyes.
Lexie’s fingers tightened so hard around her wineglass stem she was surprised it didn’t snap. “That was Max’s car?”
“Have you seen it, Lexie?” Cecilia asked. “Isn’t it hot?”
“It’s definitely hot.” As were her cheeks, which were probably also turning the same hue as the car.
“I’d like it as part of my share.” Ben smiled, his eyes darkening and still on Lexie’s. “It’s got some terrific memories.”
“Like when you nailed Savannah what’s-her-name in it, and Grandfather found out and got so mad he refused to let you drive it anymore?” Cecilia asked.
Ben’s lips quirked, and he shifted his attention to Cecilia. “He eventually relented. And she was the only one. Grandfather told me that only a special woman was good enough for that car, and he was right.”
“How come you never showed it to me when we were married?” Olivia asked.
“I didn’t think it was your style.”
“Well, it might be now.” She smiled slowly and touched Ben’s cheek with her finger. “Maybe it’s time you nailed someone else in it.”
“Excuse me, but I need to talk to Trey,” Lexie said. She went over to where Trey was sipping a drink.
“Did you talk to the police?” she asked.
“Not yet. I wanted to talk to Ben first, and I didn’t do that until a couple of hours ago.” Trey pursed his lips. “He told me their argument hadn’t been a big deal, and that if I felt I should tell the police, then to go ahead. I’m still not sure what to do. It could end up causing Ben problems he doesn’t deserve. I told him I’d sleep on it.”
“What do you know about Igor?” Lexie asked.
“The current Igor? Not much, other than he works hard and he’s willing to be called Igor. Max hired him.”
“Max did? Was that unusual?”
“Max always handled hiring employees,” Trey said. “He found numbers boring, but he was fascinated by people. I have a feeling he viewed everyone he interviewed as a potential character. Why are you interested in Igor?”
“Because he arrived only a few months before the first attempt on Max’s life,” Lexie said. “I’m sure it’s a long shot, but I thought I should check whether anything in his history gives him a reason to hate Max.”
“That’s a good idea,” Trey said. “His résumé should be in the files in my office. I’ll get you a copy.” He set his drink on the high table and left the parlor.
“Cecilia told me that you and Ben had a one-night stand.”
Lexie shifted her attention to Olivia, who’d suddenly appeared at her side. “Really.” It was currently a two-night stand, but Lexie didn’t feel like sharing that information with Olivia.
“I think she was trying to make me jealous, but it didn’t work,” Olivia said. “I wanted to reassure you that you shouldn’t feel uncomfortable about it. I don’t hold it against you. I wasn’t in the picture then.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“And it’s not like you’re Ben’s type.” Olivia gave Lexie her version of a condescending look.
But then she hadn’t been trained by the master. “Really,” Lexie said again, this time delivering a condescending look of her own that would have made her mother proud.
It was so effective it made Olivia look away.
“Here’s your wine, Olivia,” Ben said, approaching them with a glass of white wine. “What are you two talking about?” His expression seemed a little leery, but maybe that was Lexie’s imagination.
“Girl talk,” Olivia said, taking the glass from Ben. She kissed his cheek. “Thanks for the wine.”
Muriel clapped her hands, he
r bracelets and rings clanging. “Your attention, please.” She was standing in front of the fireplace, wearing a burgundy silk caftan and matching turban, hot pink lipstick, and an abundance of sparkly jewelry. The drink table and a folding chair were beside her.
“We are gathered here tonight to honor my dear brother.” She folded her hands together and pressed them against her heart. “I believe the best way to do that would be to identify his murderer.”
Jeremy groaned from across the room. “Not another séance.”
“Of course not,” Muriel said. “When he appeared to me, Maxwell said he doesn’t like séances. I have no reason to think dying has made him any fonder of them.” She lowered her hands. “I am going to gaze into my crystal.”
Seth appeared at her side like a well-trained magician’s assistant. “Aunt Muriel is an expert at crystal reading.” He was holding what looked like a basketball covered by a cloth the same burgundy silk as Muriel’s outfit.
Muriel’s fingertips fluttered. “To be perfectly honest, tea leaves and tarot cards are more my specialty. But this will work better for the task at hand. Please help me clear the drink table, Seth.”
“What did I miss?” Trey asked.
“Muriel’s going to try to identify Max’s murderer by looking into her crystal,” Lexie said.
Trey rolled his eyes. “I think I’d better retrieve my drink before she starts.” He handed Lexie a sealed envelope. “I think you’ll find this interesting.”
“Thanks,” Lexie said.
“What’s that?” Jeremy asked.
“Some information about the trust,” Lexie said, sticking the envelope into her purse.
“Please position the crystal for me,” Muriel said. She and Seth had moved the wineglasses to the lower shelf of the drink table and the liquor bottles onto the fireplace mantel. Seth picked the covered object off the floor and placed it on the table.
“Dim the lights.” Muriel sat down on the folding chair so she was facing the crystal. “And close the drapes.”
