The Demise

by Diane Moody

  “No, I haven’t because she didn’t need to know.”

  “Told me what?”

  “About a second will. As I told Matt, I wasn’t supposed to do anything unless something happened to Mr. Lanham. Plus, he left strict directions to retrieve the will no sooner than six days after his funeral.”

  “When did he tell you about the second will?”

  “Just a few days before he died. He invited me to have dinner with him on his yacht at the marina. I was surprised since he’d never done anything like that before in all the years I worked for him, so of course I went. He’d been staying on his yacht for several days, which happened from time to time. I always assumed he moved out there after a fight with Mrs. Lanham, but that’s just speculation on my part.”

  “Do you know exactly how long he’d been staying there?” Matt asked.

  “Almost a week, I think. Of course, I had no way of knowing if he was actually staying there since he drove himself. For all I know, he could have been staying with someone else or even out of town. That was none of my business.”

  “Go ahead. You went to the marina,” Julie prodded.

  “Yes, I went. It was the Wednesday before he died.”

  “So let’s see,” Matt said. “He was found early the following Monday morning, though the coroner thinks he died sometime between midnight and two a.m.”

  “Right. When I arrived, he handed me a beer, and we chatted like a couple of old friends while he finished making dinner. He grilled some steaks and tossed a big salad. I remember him saying how much he enjoyed cooking, but rarely had the opportunity to be in the kitchen anymore since Patricia had insisted they have a cook. That led to a discussion about other things he wished he’d done in his life. He wasn’t melancholy, as such. He’d had a couple of beers, maybe more, and just seemed relaxed. He asked me if I had a bucket list, that sort of thing. Honestly, it was just a casual conversation. Nothing more.

  “Then, after dinner, I could tell he had something on his mind. He told me how much he’d appreciated my years of service, and how grateful he was to know he could always trust me. He knew anything he told me in confidence stayed in confidence, and he wanted me to know how much that meant to him. He’d always been good to me—extremely generous, always treated me as an equal. But he’d never talked to me at that level before . . . so transparent.

  “Then he said he had something to show me and disappeared below deck for a few minutes. He returned with a bulging manila-like envelope that was sealed. It was labeled ‘My Will’ in his handwriting. He placed it on the table and looked at me as if he wanted to say something. When I asked what was going on, he said he needed some ‘peace of mind.’ He said, ‘If anything should happen to me, I want you to wait six days after I’m buried, then come get this from my safe below deck. I’ll give you the combination. Then I want you to take it directly to my attorney.’

  “At that point, I started to get nervous about the direction the conversation was going. I asked him, ‘Why me? Why not just give it to your attorney?’ He said, ‘Because I trust you, and I know you’ll do precisely what I ask.’ I asked if he was in some kind of danger. He kind of smiled, a fairly sad smile, actually. Then he looked directly at me and said, ‘That’s another reason I chose you. Because I know you won’t ask a lot of questions or demand a lot of answers.’

  “We sat there for a few minutes without saying anything. I couldn’t help but think the worst-case scenario. Maybe someone had a contract on his life. Or maybe he was being blackmailed. Maybe the husband of one of his mistresses had threatened him. I don’t know; I just had a gut feeling something was really wrong.”

  Matt leaned forward, rubbing his temples. “Why now? Why didn’t you tell me this the first time we talked?”

  “Because Jim gave Peter his word, Matt,” Julie offered quietly. “And Peter knew he would keep his promise no matter what happened. That’s a rare quality, and Peter obviously trusted Jim’s loyalty to him.”

  Underwood ducked his head slightly. “That’s very kind, Julie. Here’s the thing. Regardless of Mr. Lanham’s reputation, and regardless of all his infidelities, I always believed he was a good man in his heart. Don’t get me wrong—that doesn’t excuse him for those things. But I think Mr. Lanham had a lot of baggage from his younger life that he kept hidden from others. Some might call them demons; I think it’s more about those lifelong scars we carry from childhood. Especially for those who realize early on that they’re not a priority to their mother or father.”

  “By now, I’m assuming you’ve been to the yacht to get the package?” Matt asked.

  “No, I haven’t, and that’s because Mr. Lanham insisted I not do so until six days after the funeral, which is today. And that’s why I called you. I would have called earlier, but Mrs. Lanham needed me to take her to Nashville and Franklin to run errands. We just got back a little while ago. So I’m here to see if you want to come with me.”

  “You bet I do. But I need to get a search warrant first.”

  “Why?” Julie asked, feeling a rumble of excitement rushing through her veins. “Peter told Jim to get it, so why would he have to have a search warrant?”

  Matt slowly turned to face her. “Because, we do this by the book, or we don’t do it at all.”

  Julie slumped back in the sofa. “How long will that take you?”

  “Depends on however long it takes me to get one. Meaning, I don’t know.”

  Matt’s cell phone rang. “It’s Berkowitz returning my call. I’ll take it outside.” He got up and headed toward the front door.

  “See if he can get that warrant—”

  Matt pinned her with a glare as he pulled the door closed behind him.

  “Who’s Berkowitz?”

  “His partner. Be thankful you haven’t met him.” Julie sat up, wincing as she moved. “Jim, if Matt leaves, I want you to take me out to Peter’s yacht tonight.”

  Underwood gasped. “Are you out of your mind?!”

  “Shhh!”

  “You just got out of the hospital!” he growled in a half-whisper. “Look at yourself—you can barely walk!”

  Julie kept motioning him to lower his voice. “I’m fine. But it could be a day or two before he can convince a judge to grant a search warrant. We need to see what’s on that boat, Jim. I don’t know why I didn’t think to go check it out before now. There’s no telling what we might find there.”

  “I don’t know, Julie. It seems awfully risky. Besides, you heard what Matt said. He wants this done by the book. I mean, if he caught us snooping around out there—”

  “But you’re an employee of the family, Jim. You don’t need a warrant to go on their boat.”

  “Now Julie—”

  “Fine. Then I’ll go by myself.

  “And how would you get there, pray tell?”

  She thought for a moment, remembering her water-logged car. She didn’t even know where it had been taken. “Gevin. Either I’ll convince him to go with me, or I’ll take his car and go alone.”

  “What’s the rush? Why not just wait and do this Matt’s way?”

  Matt’s way . . .

  Sure. In her heart, she knew that was what she ought to do. Hadn’t he reminded her of that constantly since the day they met? Julie wasn’t altogether sure she knew what kept propelling her in the opposite direction, but she was stubborn enough to follow her intuition. Which at the moment was screaming inside her head.

  “Look, Jim. Without my help, Matt would be light-years behind in this investigation. He won’t admit that, of course, but with all my contacts, I’ve cut him enough corners to fast-track every angle of this case. And right now, my gut tells me that yacht may hold the secret that could answer all the questions concerning Peter’s death. Now, there’s still a chance he may walk back in here and be ready to roll on this. But if not, I’m going to that marina tonight. With or without you. So what’s it gonna be?”

  Underwood dropped his head, shaking it. “Julie?”


  “Yes?”

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Go with me. Pleeeease?”

  He looked up with a resigned smile of surrender. “For the record, my gut tells me to wait on Matt. But I’m not about to let you go to that marina alone.”

  “So you’ll go?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Atta boy!”

  She could hear Matt’s footsteps coming up the stairs.

  “When he leaves, we’ll wait a few minutes and head out afterward,” she whispered. “If he doesn’t have to go meet Berkowitz, then you go ahead and leave, but wait in your car. I’ll convince him that Gevin can take care of me so he’ll go on back to his motel. Are you parked out back?”

  “Yes, in my SUV.”

  “Good. He’s parked out front.”

  “But what if he—”

  “Sorry about that,” Matt apologized as he opened the front door. “Berkowitz is on the warpath again.”

  “Really?” Julie asked, sitting back with a trained air of innocence. “What’s he upset about this time?”

  “I’d left a message telling him what happened to you, and he’s convinced I’ve let this whole thing ‘spiral out of control,’ as he put it. Never mind that I’m right on top of it.” Matt shook his head. “I’ll be so glad when I’m reassigned to another partner.”

  Underwood stood. “Did you ask him about getting a search warrant?”

  “Yes, and he said I should be at the courthouse first thing in the morning to convince a judge to give me one. So I guess there’s nothing more to be done about that tonight. I’ll give you a call as soon as I have that warrant. Will you be available tomorrow?”

  “I should be. Mrs. Lanham told me she’ll be staying in tomorrow.”

  “What’s she been like since the funeral?” Julie asked.

  “How would I know? She’s never chatty with me, so all I have to go on is her moods. Which are never great, as you know.”

  “Any idea what her plans are?”

  “Not really. Though I did find some brochures for some properties in Maui. My guess is she’s either planning a trip or maybe buying a place over there.”

  “And to think she hasn’t even gotten her hands on Peter’s life insurance money yet.”

  Matt and Underwood both looked at her.

  “Meaning?” Matt asked when she didn’t respond.

  “Meaning, maybe she’s trying to leave the country before you find out she was behind her husband’s death. Maybe that was her up on that tower with him in Gevin’s picture. Or maybe—”

  “Maybe you should leave the investigation to me. Now, where have I heard that before? Oh yeah. From me. At least a dozen times now.”

  She felt the heat in her face, so she gazed over at Underwood. “He’s really quite annoying about all that. In case you hadn’t noticed.”

  Underwood started toward the door. “Don’t drag me into this. I’m just a bystander.”

  Matt gave him a pat on the back. “I’ll give you a call in the morning.”

  “Sounds good.” Underwood turned back toward Julie. “You take care, Julie. Hope you feel better soon.”

  She ignored his subtle wink. “Oh, I will. Good night, Jim.”

  “Good night.”

  As Matt closed the door, he asked Julie if he could get her anything.

  “No, I’m good. But you really don’t have to stay. Gevin’s just downstairs, so if I need anything I can just call him.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Of course. I’m beginning to think that’s your favorite response. You say it often, you know.”

  “Of course I know.” Julie smiled as she tried to sit up, trying hard not to grimace from the pain.

  “Well, if you’re sure, then I’ll take off. I’ve got some work I need to do.”

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  Matt started to answer then stopped. “Good one. You almost had me.”

  “Ah, shucks,” she teased. “And here I thought I was about to hear some good stuff.”

  He sat down beside her. “Nice try. Are you sure you’re feeling okay? On a scale of one to ten with ten being unbearable, what’s your pain level?”

  “I guess I’d put it at a three. Or maybe even a two. I’m really feeling okay, so don’t worry about me.”

  He leaned over with a questioning smile. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me the truth?”

  Julie felt the warmth heating her face again. She quickly flashed him her best Reese Witherspoon smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He stared into her eyes for a moment. “If you say so.” He kissed her lips gently, then kissed her again on her forehead. “Promise you’ll call if you need anything?”

  “I promise. I’ll be fine. You go out and solve crimes, Agent Bryson.”

  “I will, Miss Parker. You can count on it.”

  Chapter 26

  Underwood turned the SUV into the parking lot of the affluent marina in west Nashville. They’d argued the entire duration of the forty-five-minute ride from Braxton. Julie had never once known Jim Underwood to be so bossy, and she didn’t like it at all. He pulled into a parking space facing the elegant security fence. Beyond it, a grassy knoll sloped gently downward to the main dock that ran horizontal. From it, she could see the six perpendicular docks of the marina housed beneath the green aluminum roofing. Here and there, lights twinkled as the vessels bobbed on the gentle waves of this inlet of the Cumberland River.

  “You will stay in the car with your seatbelt on. Do you understand?”

  Julie had tried every tactic she knew, but Underwood was having none of it. She drummed her fingers on her knee, looking straight ahead with her jaw clenched so tight, she thought it would lock for all eternity.

  “Julie? Did you hear what I said?”

  She tried to reason with him in a tone much calmer than she felt. “Look, Jim, we’re here. Why can’t I just come with you? I’ve been on Peter’s yacht before. I know my way around it, so I’d be able to—”

  “I said no.”

  “Why? Just tell me why!”

  He turned off the ignition. “I’ve already told you why! C’mon, Julie. It’s bad enough I let you talk me into this. I’m not about to take a chance on you getting hurt or slipping off the dock and falling into the water.”

  “Oh, please. Spare me the drama. I’m not some delicate china doll. Give me a little credit, will you?”

  He turned to look at her. “Enough! Either you do as I say, or I turn this car around and take you home. What’s it going to be?”

  “Fine! Just go. But if it takes you too long because you don’t know your way around, you can’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

  “For your information, I’ve been on this yacht probably a hundred times over the years. So thank you for your concern, but I believe I know my way around just fine.”

  “Whatever,” she mumbled with an indifferent shrug.

  He slammed the door after grumbling something unintelligible. She watched him walk over to the gate and punch in the security code; the gate opened electronically then slowly closed after he went in. She watched him head down the middle dock where My Baby was moored on the last slip, just out of her sight.

  Julie tried to slow her pulse rate. It was so unlike Jim to be anything but kind and helpful. Then again, she’d heard the snarky tone of her own voice as they’d argued. She could blame it on the pain meds, but she knew better. She closed her eyes for a second, trying to calm her nerves.

  The problem was, she knew he was right.

  When she reopened her eyes, she gazed out at the million-dollar boats docked here. She knew many of them belonged to Music City celebrities. Her favorite was the Lady J on the last slip on the dock directly opposite Peter’s. At the first party she attended on My Baby, she’d noticed the beautiful antique luxury yacht moored across from them. That afternoon, she’d looked up, and there was Alan Ja
ckson smiling at her.

  “Hey there,” he’d said with a wave. “You’re that girl on the Lanham’s commercials, aren’t you?”

  She’d giggled and bobbed her head like a schoolgirl. “Yes, that’s me. Guilty as charged!”

  She rolled her eyes, remembering how stupid she’d felt when those words slipped out of her mouth. Guilty as charged? The country mega-star had laughed and waved as he climbed back up to the bridge of his vessel.

  Julie looked at her watch then leaned her head back on the headrest. She’d give Jim five more minutes, and if he wasn’t back, she’d—

  Something moved in her periphery. She shielded her eyes from the glare off the parking lot security light above the SUV. There . . . someone walking briskly toward the gate. It was impossible to tell if it was a male or female because whoever it was wore dark pants and a dark hoodie covering everything but the eyes and nose. Who wears that much clothing on a hot summer’s night? Then she relaxed as the person punched in the gate code just as Jim had. Must be one of the boat owners. Or, maybe it’s someone who lives on one of boats while the owners are elsewhere. What a great job— living on a luxury yacht and getting paid for it.

  She watched as the person walked through the open gate, then leaned down for a second as if he or she had dropped something. A moment later, the person headed down the dock running parallel to Peter’s.

  Julie reached over to turn the AC down a notch. Then, as she sat back, she saw a flash of movement as the same person sprinted back toward the main dock then turned to his left. At the same time, she noticed Jim walking back from Peter’s yacht. She could see he was carrying a red duffel bag of some sort. From his angle, he couldn’t see that he and the hooded stranger would cross paths momentarily.

  Julie felt the hair on her arms and neck lift.

  Something’s not right.

  Was the stranger looking for Jim? Had he caught sight of him across the dock and retraced his steps to catch up to him? She felt like she was sitting at a drive-in movie watching as the bad guy was about to run down the good guy, but the good guy had no idea he’s about to get—