Fatal Trust

by Diana Miller

  “This is ridiculous,” Jeremy said as Seth complied.

  “Look on the bright side,” Cecilia said. “Maybe Aunt Muriel will discover you killed Grandfather. If you’re in jail, you won’t have to sit through more of these kinds of things. Or any more sherry hours.”

  “Hush,” Muriel said.

  “Let Muriel work,” Olivia said. She and Ben were sitting close together on the love seat.

  “Thank you, dear,” Muriel said.

  “Since I know Ben’s innocent, I hope you can find the truth,” Olivia added.

  “The crystal never lies.” Muriel pulled off the cloth and dropped it onto the floor.

  “That looks just like the one in The Wizard of Oz,” Lexie whispered.

  “Maybe she swiped it from Grandfather’s movie memorabilia collection,” Jeremy said, not bothering to lower his voice. “If she starts talking about witches or tornados, I’ll be suspicious.”

  Muriel leaned over the crystal and looked down into it. “I can see a mist, swirling around,” she said in a breathy voice.

  “That’s almost a tornado.”

  “Be quiet,” Muriel told Jeremy. “Someone is trying to come out of the mist.”

  “Is it Grandfather?” Seth asked from the side. As usual, he was snapping photos.

  “It’s too foggy to see who it is. It’s a person, but I can’t even tell if it’s a man or woman.”

  “Is the person at Nevermore?” Seth asked.

  “I can’t tell that, either. The surroundings are obscured by the mist.” Muriel tapped the crystal a couple of times. “That’s better. I can see someone else. It must be a woman since she’s wearing a skirt.”

  “Unless the mist is in Scotland and it’s a kilt,” Jeremy said.

  Seth glared at him. “Who is the woman, Aunt Muriel?”

  “I can’t see her well enough to be able to tell.”

  “Did she kill Grandfather?”

  “I don’t know. The first person has disappeared. I can’t see anyone besides the woman.”

  Everyone was quiet, so quiet Lexie could hear the grandfather clock in the living room mark six forty-five with the haunting Carmina Burana. She shivered.

  “I can see the first person again—at least I think it’s the same person I saw before,” Muriel said when the clock had finished. “The person is carrying something.”

  “What? Can you make it out?” Seth asked.

  Muriel rested her hands on both sides of the crystal and looked directly at the camera. “The object is a gun.”

  “Like the one that killed Grandfather?” Dylan asked.

  “It looks the same, but all revolvers look alike to me. The figure is moving toward the woman.”

  “I thought you were going to find out who killed Max,” Olivia said.

  “The crystal doesn’t always show what you want to know. It sometimes shows what you need to know.” Muriel studied the crystal for a moment longer, breathing heavily. Then she raised both hands as well as her voice. “Oh my God! The first person shot the woman.” She shook her head, her hands moving spasmodically over the crystal, her bracelets and rings flashing. “She’s been shot. She’s bleeding and falling to the ground. The person’s moving away, letting her fall.” Muriel’s agitation seemed so genuine that not even Jeremy made a sarcastic remark.

  “Who’s the shooter?” Seth asked.

  “I can’t tell, and the shooter has disappeared from the crystal. The mist is breaking up enough that I can see the woman. She isn’t on the ground; she’s in the water. It could be a lake or the ocean; all I can see is blue water.” Muriel’s words were coming fast, her voice an octave too high. “The water’s turning dark from the woman’s blood. She has blood coming from her stomach, and she’s sinking into the water. I can see her—”

  Muriel broke off, slumping forward, covering her face with her hands. She was statue still, so quiet she didn’t appear to be breathing.

  Seth immediately ran to his aunt and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Aunt Muriel, are you all right?”

  Muriel slowly lifted her head. The spotlight gave her face a ghostly glow. “I am fine. But I saw something horrible.”

  “The killer’s face?” he prompted.

  “Not the killer but the woman, the woman who was shot and is sinking into the water. The woman the crystal felt it important to warn.” Muriel’s words were low and round, as if she were making a pronouncement. She turned to Lexie and pointed. “The woman was you.”

  The blood drained from Lexie’s head.

  Muriel picked the cloth off the floor and covered the crystal. “This has been very upsetting. I need to lie down. Please eat dinner without me.”

  “I’d think it’s a little more upsetting for Lexie,” Jeremy said as the lights came back on and Muriel hurried out of the room.

  “You do look pale,” Cecilia said. “Are you okay? You know it doesn’t mean anything.”

  The dramatic announcement coming on the heels of her brake failure had momentarily unsettled Lexie. But this had a logical explanation. “I’m sure Muriel subconsciously chose me as a victim because she’s upset I was spying on everyone,” she said, firmly enough to convince herself, she hoped. “Or maybe because I was the victim of an accident yesterday.”

  The dinner gong clanged.

  “The end of yet another delightful sherry hour,” Jeremy said, offering Lexie his arm. “I hope you’ll sit beside me. I promise I’ll protect you.”

  “As tonight’s in honor of Grandfather, I think we should toast him before we start eating,” Cecilia said when everyone was seated at the dining room table. “You should give the toast, Ben. You’re the oldest grandchild.”

  “Only by two weeks,” Jeremy said. “In case you’ve forgotten, Ben’s also been arrested for killing Grandfather.”

  “I didn’t do it,” Ben said.

  “How do we know that?” Jeremy said. “I think it’s inappropriate for you to give the toast.” He got to his feet. “I’ll do it.”

  “No way in hell,” Ben said, also getting to his feet.

  Trey stood, coughed, cleared his throat. “Sit down, both of you. I will give a toast to Max. I’ve known him longer than either of you.”

  He waited until Ben and Jeremy were seated to continue. “I knew Max for more than thirty years. He could be annoying, demanding, and opinionated. His ego was second to none—he always assumed he knew what was best for everyone else.”

  Everyone chuckled at the truth in that.

  “Max was also brilliant, loyal, and had a wicked sense of humor. He was kind and generous and one of the best people I ever met. He gave me a job years ago when I needed it, shared his family with me, and gave me emotional support and the will to go on when Maria died. Max was my employer, but he was also my best friend. I miss him every day. The only thing that makes this bearable is that he’s finally back with his beloved Jessica.”

  The tears that had welled up in Lexie’s eyes overflowed now, making hot tracks down her cheeks. She didn’t bother wiping them away.

  Trey raised his wineglass. “Here’s to you, Max. I hope you’re enjoying yourself as much in death as you always enjoyed life.”

  Everyone else at the table raised his or her wineglass.

  And then Trey fell facedown onto the table, his Baccarat crystal glass shattering, his pinot noir staining the white damask cloth.

  EPISODE 7

  CHAPTER 22

  Ben was out of his chair and behind Trey in an instant. “Someone call 911. Help me get him onto the floor, Jeremy.”

  “I’ll call,” Lexie said, loud enough to be heard over everyone’s sliding chairs and agitation. She grabbed her purse, digging out her phone as she hurried into the quiet of the hallway to make the call. When she returned to the dining room, Ben, Jeremy, and Seth had Trey on the ground and were loosening his tie. His immobile features had a waxy, grayish tinge.

  “The dispatcher said you should give him an aspirin,” Lexie said. “In case it’s his he
art.”

  “Cecilia’s getting one, since that’s probably what it is,” Jeremy said.

  “He had heart surgery last year,” Ben added.

  “I’ve got an aspirin,” Cecilia said, running into the dining room with Igor on her heels.

  “Give it to me,” Ben said.

  “Is Trey going to be okay?” Cecilia asked. “He’s like family. He can’t die, not after Grandfather—” Her voice caught, then faded.

  “He won’t if we’ve got anything to say about it,” Jeremy said.

  Olivia rested her hand on Ben’s shoulder. “How can I help?” She’d been lurking behind him.

  “Go out front and let the paramedics in,” Ben said, his attention still on Trey.

  “I can’t leave,” Olivia said. “Trey’s like family to me, too.”

  “I’ll do it,” Lexie said. She resisted the urge to point out to Olivia that virtually ignoring someone seemed an unusual way to treat a near-family member she hadn’t seen in years.

  On the other hand, it was obvious that to everyone else, Trey really was family. The way they’d responded to his collapse and especially the way Ben and Jeremy were actually working together to help him showed how important he was to all of them. Seth had even stopped taking pictures.

  Lexie unlocked the front door and stepped out on the porch. It was getting dark, an approaching storm bringing in early clouds and gray fog, making the air heavy. Lightning flashed far away, but she could feel its electricity jolting her already jittery nerves. She strode up and down the stairs, then back and forth along the driveway, trying to work off some of the adrenaline swirling through her body. Trey wasn’t going to die. Stress must have triggered his collapse—stress from Max’s death and now his concern for Ben. Stress had probably also kept him from eating and drinking enough. He’d be fine once they got an IV in him.

  He couldn’t die. The family couldn’t handle his death, even from heart problems. And she couldn’t handle his death. She’d only met Trey recently, but she’d corresponded with him for years. Because of that and because he’d been close to both Max and her aunt, Trey felt like an old friend.

  Lexie heard the ambulance a few minutes before it arrived, but didn’t stop pacing until it pulled up in front of Nevermore. Three paramedics jumped out, carrying medical gear and a stretcher. She led them to the dining room.

  “Is it his heart again?” one paramedic asked as he knelt beside Trey.

  “I assume so,” Ben said. “He was giving a toast to Grandfather when he collapsed. He never stopped breathing, but his breathing is shallow, and his heart’s beating way too fast. We managed to get an aspirin in him.”

  “We’ll take it from here,” the paramedic said.

  Everyone watched as the paramedic took Trey’s vitals. Lexie was no expert, but they didn’t sound good. He also hadn’t appeared to have moved since his collapse. That couldn’t be good, either.

  “We’ll have someone from the hospital call here as soon as they know anything,” the first paramedic said. “You all are as close to family as he’s got.”

  The paramedics secured Trey on a stretcher, then carried him out of Nevermore. Every person in the dining room followed them, waiting silently on the front steps until the ambulance took off, red lights flashing and siren blaring.

  “Will you want dinner?” Igor asked when it was quiet enough to be heard.

  “I’ve lost my appetite,” Cecilia said.

  “Me, too,” Dylan said. “Although I could use another drink.” He headed into the house.

  “I think I’ll go back to my motel now,” Lexie said. “Call me when you hear anything about Trey, Cecilia.”

  # # #

  Lexie was just getting into bed when Cecilia called with news.

  “Trey didn’t have a heart attack. He was poisoned.”

  Lexie’s blood chilled. Someone had poisoned Trey? “God, no. Is he going to be okay?”

  “He’s awake and able to talk, and Peter says he should be okay. But that’s not the worst part.” Cecilia paused, taking a harsh breath. “They’ve arrested Ben for trying to kill him.”

  # # #

  When Lexie strode through the front door of the police station—surprised she’d hadn’t been ticketed for speeding on the way over—she found Olivia already there, standing in front of an unoccupied gray metal desk.

  Olivia whipped around toward her. “Ben’s attorney can’t get a bail hearing on this latest charge until tomorrow, not that a judge is likely to grant bail anyway. That means even though Ben’s innocent, he’ll be stuck in jail for least one night and will lose his share of the trust. Even though he isn’t guilty.” Her voice had the same whiney quality as a dentist’s drill, making Lexie long to plug her ears. “That can’t be what his grandfather wanted. You’ve got to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “I think it’s more important right now to get Ben cleared of the charges,” Lexie said.

  Olivia planted her hands on her hips and raised her chin and voice. “That’s easy for you to say. You aren’t the one losing a fortune. But you are the one who drafted the trust, and you should have provided an exception for something like this. If Ben loses out, we will definitely be suing you for malpractice.”

  Before Lexie could respond, a policeman came into the room.

  “I need to see Ben,” Lexie told him.

  “His wife was here first. I was just getting him set to see her.”

  “She’s his ex-wife, and I need to see him because his arrest could have legal ramifications for Max Windsor’s trust, which I represent,” Lexie said. “I need to hear Ben’s side of the story before I can advise the trustee what to do.”

  The policeman shrugged. “Okay, you can go first since you’ve got legal business. Come on.” He led Lexie to a hallway behind the desk, then to a closed door. “Ben’s in here,” he said, unlocking and opening the door. Lexie stepped into the gray-and-beige room. The policeman followed.

  “Could I please talk to Ben alone? Some of the things I have to discuss with him involve confidential trust matters.” She pulled a small notepad and pen out of the side pocket of her purse. “You can take my purse with you and search me. I’m not going to try to help Ben escape, and he’s not going to hurt me. You must know him.”

  “I thought I did, but I never suspected he’d kill his grandfather or poison Trey.”

  “He hasn’t been found guilty of either of those things,” Lexie said. “Since you plan on keeping him in jail overnight, he stands to lose a fortune under the terms of his grandfather’s trust. If Ben’s proven innocent, he could very well sock you with a lawsuit for false arrest, and your department will end up owing him all the money he’s lost, which I doubt you can afford. It’s in your best interests to let me talk to him so I can figure out a way to avoid that outcome. And as I said, some of that is confidential.” Lexie had adopted the tone she used on those occasions when her argument had a few holes that she hoped authoritative decisiveness would make up for.

  The tone apparently worked on small-town policemen, or maybe it was the threat of a lawsuit. “You can have ten minutes,” the policeman said, and then he left the room, closing the door behind him. He didn’t bother to lock the door or take her purse.

  “I thought Olivia was coming in,” Ben said as Lexie approached the gray metal table where he sat. In the fluorescent light, his skin looked a sickly yellow green, and his left ankle was shackled to the table. At least they hadn’t stuck him in an orange jumpsuit. “Thank God it’s you instead.”

  “I convinced the cop outside to let me see you first because I’m concerned about the trust’s interests. Fortunately, neither the cops nor Olivia know anything about trust law, since everything I’ve said was pretty much crap.”

  She sat down on the chair across from him and set the notepad on the table. “Cecilia said the cops found a vial under the dining room table and that it had contained turpentine that had been put into Trey’s drink. That’s why they’re sure Trey was
poisoned. But how could they know all that so soon? You don’t have a crime lab in Lakeview.”

  “There were a few drops of liquid in the vial that the cops thought smelled like turpentine, so they used our fire department’s hazmat kit to confirm that’s what it was. Then they checked Trey’s gin and tonic and found more turpentine.”

  “What a time for them to be efficient,” Lexie said.

  “They also sent everything to the state crime lab for further verification,” Ben said. “I have a feeling they called some other police department for advice since I can’t see them thinking of all this on their own.”

  “Were there any prints on the vial?” Lexie asked.

  “Of course not.”

  “I assume the police think you tried to kill Trey before he told them about Max’s threat to disinherit you.”

  Ben nodded. “Trey was awake enough to mention that, after they pumped his stomach and informed him he’d been poisoned.”

  “But you told Trey to go ahead and tell the cops, that it wasn’t a big deal.”

  “Right. I was concerned that he was so stressed out about it. We all worry about Trey after his heart attack least year,” Ben said. “Trey told the cops that, but they assume I just said that to make Trey complacent, and that I planned to kill him before he could do it.”

  “Why didn’t you mention your argument with Max to me?” Lexie asked.

  “Because I’d honestly forgotten it,” Ben said. “Grandfather lectured me about my current career all the time. I didn’t take his threat to disinherit me any more seriously than I’d taken his previous threats to open a competing garage and steal all my business or to never speak to me again.”

  “If you didn’t take Max’s threat to disinherit you seriously, why did you drop your plan to expand the garage?” She wanted to believe Ben, but she needed to consider all the facts dispassionately. She couldn’t let her personal feelings interfere with her obligations to the trustee and Max.

  “How did you know about that?” Ben asked.