The Demise

by Diane Moody

  “I understand that both Peter and Shannon were closer to you than either of their parents.”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so. Mr. and Mrs. Lanham had little time for their children, which always made me so sad. In my country, family is most important, and we remain close throughout our lives. So I was happy to think of Peter and Shannon as my own children, to make them feel loved and cherished as best I could. We had so many wonderful times together. I truly loved them as my own.”

  “Mrs. Kym—sorry, I mean Su-Jin—in our investigation to find out what happened to Peter, we have found evidence that he was being blackmailed.”

  “Peter? Who would blackmail Peter?”

  “We’re not sure, but we found a bag filled with notes and newspaper clippings about a young man named Billy Wendell, who was apparently killed in a hit-and-run accident back in 1969—” Matt stopped when a faint gasp trickled from the other end of the line. “Su-Jin? What is it?”

  “I . . .”

  “Su-Jin, if you know something, you need to tell me.”

  Silence.

  “Please, you may be the only one who knows what this is all about.”

  A long pause. Then, “I swore I’d never tell a soul.”

  “Who did you swear to?”

  “Peter . . . and Shannon.”

  “But both of them are now deceased. Surely you can see how important it is for us to know what happened so we can find out who’s behind Peter’s death. Whether it was suicide or someone who actually pushed him off that water tower, we need to know.”

  Another long pause. Finally, he heard a long, shaky sigh. “Yes. Yes, I understand.”

  “Did Peter have something to do with the death of Billy Wendell?”

  Nothing.

  “Su-Jin? Please. I beg you. Tell me.”

  A moment passed. “I will tell you what happened that night. All these years, the secret has burned in a corner of my heart. I will tell you now and hope to find the peace that has always eluded me.”

  “Good. With your permission, I’d like to record our conversation from here on. Are you all right with that?”

  “Yes. I suppose there’s no harm at this point.”

  “Good. Take as long as you like, but tell me everything.”

  “It was Easter Sunday, April 8, 1969. Never an Easter passes that I don’t think of that young boy . . .”

  Chapter 29

  “Good heavens, Underwood! What happened to you?” Hank Ormsby grasped Jim’s hand and arm. “Here, come have a seat.” He guided him to one of the leather chairs facing his desk.

  “It’s quite a story, Hank. And I’ll explain in a moment. This is Special Agent Matt Bryson with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation. He’s been working the investigation into Peter’s death.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Ormsby,” Matt said, shaking his hand.

  “The pleasure is mine. Have a seat, gentlemen. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to see you earlier. This court case in Knoxville about got the best of me this week.”

  He made his way around the large desk and took his seat. Matt remembered seeing Ormsby at the funeral, primarily because of the lawyer’s striking looks—a thick head of silver hair, startling blue eyes set in a handsome face like that of a seventy-something movie star. He wondered if the tan boasted of long hours on the golf course or perhaps a private tennis court. Even the office ambiance exuded an air of wealth and prominence. Of course, he would expect nothing less for the attorney of Peter Lanham.

  “So tell me what happened. I understand you have something of Peter’s for me?”

  Underwood nodded at Matt, who opened his briefcase and pulled out the two manila envelopes. “Yes, I do. And I’m here to present them to you at his request.”

  “What?” Hank froze. “But—”

  “Let me explain. This all started just two nights before Peter died.”

  In precise detail, Underwood told the story of his unexpected dinner aboard Peter’s yacht, and his request to make sure Hank got his sealed second will exactly six days after Lanham was buried. Matt studied Hank’s countenance as the attorney listened, hanging on every word. The man was obviously astounded at the news, barely moving a muscle.

  Underwood motioned for Matt to place the envelope with the will on the desk then slide it toward Hank. “Peter was explicit in his instructions that I not notify you concerning this information until today. Why six days? I have no idea. I trust he’ll explain his motives in whatever’s inside that packet.”

  Hank dug a pair of reading glasses out of his suit coat pocket. “I have to tell you, I’m more than a little flabbergasted by all this.”

  “As was I,” Jim said with a heavy sigh.

  Hank paused, then folded his hands on top of the packet. “But before I go further, tell me what happened to you, Jim. You look like you’ve been in a street fight.”

  “I’ll be honest. I’m not sure I’d be here today had it not been for Julie Parker.”

  “What’s Julie got to do with this?”

  Underwood told him about their late-night visit to the marina and the surprise attack by the stranger in a hooded sweatshirt. “Unfortunately, neither one of us got a good look at him.”

  “Or her,” Matt added.

  “Her?” Ormsby’s brows rose. “You think a woman could have done this?”

  “I doubt it very much,” Jim answered, as his hand hovered over his jaw. “Whoever it was packed quite a punch.”

  “Mr. Ormsby, there’s something else you need to know,” Matt began. “Jim found another envelope in the closet of Mr. Lanham’s yacht. It held a series of letters and newspaper clippings indicating that Mr. Lanham was being blackmailed.”

  “Blackmailed? By whom?”

  “We don’t know yet. That’s why it’s urgent we find out what’s in that new will. I’m hoping Mr. Lanham will shed some light on what was going on and possibly lead us to his killer.”

  “So you think Peter was murdered?”

  “It’s a possibility. And if so, that same person is likely to be the one who sabotaged Julie Parker’s brakes the day before last. Her car plunged into the Harpeth, but fortunately some passersby stopped and called 911.”

  “Good heavens! I hadn’t heard! I’ve been so consumed with this trial, I haven’t even read a newspaper all week. Is she all right?”

  “A bit shaken and sore, but she’s okay.”

  “My goodness, I had no idea any of this has been going on. But wait . . . how was she able to accompany Jim to the marina last night? She’s not in the hospital?”

  Matt shook his head and blew a long breath. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

  Ormsby pushed his glasses up on his head and leaned back in his chair. “I must say, I would have thought Patricia would have contacted me about all this. She spoke to me briefly after the funeral service, asking when we could meet to discuss Peter’s will.”

  “Did you meet with her?”

  “No, I told her I’d be gone all week. We’re to meet next Monday.”

  Matt couldn’t help wondering how that went over with Patricia. His mind started chasing rabbits down Patricia’s path until he shook his head and regrouped. He looked over at Jim then back at Hank. “I’m not sure we want to bring her in on this until we know more. Mrs. Lanham has been less than cooperative.”

  “No surprise there,” Hank said. “I’ve seen all kinds in my profession, but that is one difficult woman.”

  Underwood chuckled. “You’re being very kind, Hank.

  Matt pressed on. “Mr. Ormsby, we need to take a look at that will.”

  “Gentlemen, I’ll be happy to share with you what I find. But under the circumstances, I owe it to my deceased client and friend to look over what’s here in confidentiality. I trust you understand.”

  Matt could feel his pulse start to race. “With all due respect, Mr. Ormsby, we’re on borrowed time at this point. Someone out there is—”

  “I understand, Mr. Bryson. I do. But I must insist
you let me take a look at these contents in private first. I’ll do so as quickly as I can.” Ormsby was on his feet. “Why don’t you and Jim go have some dinner or grab a cup of coffee? You can leave your number with me, and as soon as I can, I’ll call you. Fair enough?”

  Matt sighed, reining in his frustration. “All right. We’ll give you an hour.”

  Chapter 30

  Julie woke up at six-thirty, not sure if it was morning or night. Realizing it was evening, she stretched and sat up in her bed. This is ridiculous. Next time I’ll just take half a pain pill. She made her way to her bathroom, washed her face and brushed her teeth, but all she wanted to do was crawl back in bed.

  She padded out into the living area. “Gevin?” The evening sun dappled the carpet as she wandered into his room. As usual, his room was clean and pristine, but he wasn’t there. She called his cell, and he answered on the third ring.

  “Hey, Jules. How’re you feeling?”

  “Wasted. Where are you?”

  “In my studio. Want me to come up?”

  “No, I was just wondering where you were.”

  “Tell you what. I need about ten more minutes down here, so why don’t you order a pizza, and I’ll be up in time to pay the delivery guy.”

  “You’re killing my diet, you know.”

  “Says the twig to the forest.”

  “If I do get a call back to play Juliet, they’ll boot me for sure when I show up looking like Jabba the Hutt.”

  “Nonsense. Just more for Romeo to love.”

  “You’re not even close to being funny, you know.”

  “And yet you love me anyway, sister dearest. Amazing.”

  “See you in a few.”

  Gevin used their shared pizza time to give Julie some much-needed encouragement. By the time she’d finished her second slice, she was feeling better about everything.

  Well, almost everything.

  “Gev, tell me the truth. Do you think I’ve completely blown it with Matt? It’s getting harder and harder to figure him out. One minute I think he’s falling for me and on the verge of proclaiming his love—”

  “Whoa, are you kidding?”

  “Don’t act so surprised.”

  “No, it’s not that. It just seems awfully fast. It’s only been a couple of weeks since you met the guy.”

  “Yes, but from the beginning, we both felt something.”

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  “Well, he kissed me that night on the water tower.”

  “Matt kissed you? Wasn’t that the day you met him?”

  “No, silly. It was the next night.”

  “Oh, well then, sure. That makes all the difference. But still, I wouldn’t have figured him to be the Lance Romance type. He doesn’t fit the mold.”

  “Matt Bryson? A Lance Romance? You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Yes, but the fact remains he’d known you less than forty-eight hours, and yet he lip-locked you up on that tower.”

  She shrugged, feeling her face warm as she nibbled a piece of crust.

  “The fair maiden blushes! Alas, methinks she hath enjoyed this kiss from young master Bryson.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “That was pathetic, Romeo.”

  “Ah, she doth protest too much—”

  “Stop it, Gev. You’re dreadful. I mean, really awful.”

  “Okay, okay. My bad. Besides, we both know there’s only room for one actor in the house.”

  “Got that right.”

  Gevin finished a final bite of crust and chased it with a swig of Coke. “So you’re wondering if there’s still a chance for you and Matt, considering all you two have been through?”

  Julie felt her face heating again. She got up and gathered their plates then took them to the kitchen sink. “No, not really, just wishful thinking. He’s made it perfectly clear that I drive him nuts. And I guess he’s right. All we ever do is argue.”

  “Argue and kiss.” Gevin folded the empty pizza box and put it in the kitchen trash can. “I think I just figured it out. The arguing is just an excuse so you can kiss and make up. Got to hand it to Bryson. Smooth move.”

  “Enough!” She popped his arm with a snap of her dish towel. “I need some peace and quiet. I’m going to take a shower and clean up.”

  “Suit yourself. I’ve got some more work to do in the studio. Maybe we can watch a movie later or something.”

  “We’ll see.”

  The hot shower did her sore body a world of good and refreshed her state of mind as well. She was blow-drying her hair when she noticed her cell phone flashing. Only then did she remember muting the ring before her nap. It showed she had three missed calls. She quickly answered, not recognizing the number.

  “Hello?”

  “Julie? This is Brad.”

  Rats. “Oh, hi Brad.”

  “I was just calling to see how you were doing. Georgia told us you had an accident the other day.”

  “I guess you could call it that, but I’m okay. I just needed a couple of days off to recover. What did I miss at work? Is Mr. Smithe still on the war path?”

  “Yeah. What a jerk. I sure hope he doesn’t take Uncle Peter’s job.”

  “No kidding. I’d definitely have to find another job.”

  “I hope not. I’d miss you.”

  Walked right into that one. “Oh, no need to worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Good. Glad to hear that. Um, I wanted to tell you . . . well, actually I wanted to apologize to you.”

  Julie sat on the end of her bed. “What for?”

  “For being such a pest. I know you don’t have feelings for me like I do for you, and that’s okay. I mean, I’m disappointed, but that’s no reason to be such an idiot and keep bugging you all the time. These last two days when you weren’t at work, I realized I’ve been acting like some middle-schooler with a crush on the prettiest girl in town. I’m kind of embarrassed about the way I’ve been acting. It’s so lame. Anyway, I hope you’ll forgive me so we can still be friends.”

  “Well, sure, Brad. And thank you. I’m sure it was hard to step back and accept it. Even harder to pick up the phone and tell me. That’s really sweet, and I appreciate it.”

  “Yeah, I know. Pretty embarrassing.”

  “Hey, it’s all water under the bridge at this point. No reason to be embarrassed.”

  “There’s something else I wanted to tell you. I think I may have found out what happened to Uncle Peter.”

  “Seriously?” Julie sat up. “What did you find out?”

  “It’s something I found at the office. Pretty much explains everything that’s been happening around here.”

  “Brad, that’s great! Tell me about it.”

  “No, it’s something you have to see. I was wondering if you could meet me up at the office in a little while.”

  “Sure, I can do that. Let me call Matt and ask him to join us. He’ll want to see what you have and—”

  “Maybe later, but for now, could you just come? I want to run it by you first.”

  “Why me?”

  “Well, that’s just it. It kind of involves you.”

  Julie’s heart skipped a beat. “Me? How? What do you mean?

  “Look, you’ll just have to trust me. I promise it’ll only take a few minutes, then you can call Bryson if you want to.”

  “Oh. Well, I can—”

  “I’m heading over to the office now.”

  “Okay. I can probably be there in ten or fifteen minutes.”

  “Great. Thanks, Julie. See you in a few minutes.”

  She hung up, feeling a slight hesitation. How bizarre. I had nothing to do with Mr. Lanham’s death. What could he be talking about? He sounded genuinely sincere when he apologized. Surely, after all that, this isn’t some kind of trick to get me alone.

  She blew off her concerns, chalking it up to an overactive imagination thanks to the powerful pain meds she’d taken earlier. She finished getting dressed and left, stopping by the
studio downstairs on her way out.

  Gevin was on the phone but motioned her over to his desk. He rolled his eyes with so much exaggeration, she almost laughed out loud. He jotted a note and held it up to her: Bridezilla. Just shoot me, will you?”

  Julie stifled her laughter then mouthed, “Poor baby!” She borrowed his pen and jotted a quick note asking to borrow his car keys. Have to run by the office for a sec, then I’ll stop and pick up a movie for later.

  He took the pen from her hand. No chick flicks!

  She danced her brows, grabbed the keys dangling from his fingers, and waved goodbye.

  As she pulled out from the back parking lot, Julie placed a call to Matt to give him a heads-up on her meeting with Brad. The call went straight to voicemail, so she left a message telling him she was on her way to the office, and asked him to call her.

  As she drove toward Lanham’s headquarters, it dawned on her that Matt should have called by now to tell her what happened with the attorney and the new will. Had they learned anything? Was it possible that the new will indicated who’d been blackmailing Mr. Lanham? Then it hit her. There was no guarantee that Matt would call her. He’d made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want her messing up his precious investigation.

  Really? After all we’ve been through, you don’t have the decency to pick up the phone and call when I asked you to? Did you forget that those were my brakes that were cut and tampered with, sending me into the Harpeth? Of all the nerve. This is low. Even for you. Well, we’ll just see who solves this case first! For all I know, Brad’s got the goods, and I’ll be the one calling YOU with the mystery solved!

  She rode her righteous indignation for another mile before admitting she hadn’t exactly given Matt the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he had to take Jim back to the hospital. Or maybe Patricia found out about the new will and confronted him when he took Jim home. Or maybe Matt was still at the lawyer’s office. Maybe they were getting a warrant to search someone’s house or car or . . . or maybe he’d been confronted by the person behind all this drama.