"Vince is a very sweet guy," I said. The attraction was there, but I wasn't about to act on it, considering two very important facts. First, the distance between Nashville and Atlanta wasn't conducive to a relationship. Second, I was here to help figure out who murdered Mr. Van Houghton and not to get caught up in romance.
"But?" She looked at me with raised eyebrows.
"But we have other business to deal with, and I have to get back home as soon as we figure out who killed my former boss."
"Okay, but promise me you'll keep an open mind. Vince is a super good guy, and I really think he'll be a great catch for the right girl."
I chose not to respond to her this time. Fortunately, I was saved by the sound of footsteps heading in our direction.
Dinner was delicious. Not only was the lasagna cooked to perfection, the pineapple sorbet was the perfect way to end the meal with the light but sweet flavors.
We chatted for a few minutes before Vince said he needed to run by the police station on the way back to his house. After he left, Maria showed me to my room. Maria, with her hospitable demeanor, reminded me of a younger version of my mother.
As soon as I was settled, I pulled up the Internet on my iPhone and found the Van Houghtons' address and phone number. Then I searched for anything else I could find on the couple that apparently didn't have much in common with each other. Based on what I could see, they pretty much went their separate ways, until they needed each other for something—like a partner for a charity ball or event. They appeared married strictly for show.
While I was in search mode, I checked out all of the workers at the daycare center and found some interesting information on a couple of them. There was more than one Julie Rivers in Atlanta, but I found a blog with a photo of the one I knew. She was petite and funny but a bit older than I realized. She graduated from high school a couple of years after me, and she appeared to have maintained some of her old friendships—one of them a guy who'd been in quite a bit of trouble with the law.
Beth Swanson was easy to find on the Internet. She'd won all sorts of awards for various things in the community, including raising money for a shelter for battered women. As I dug deeper into her history on the web, I found out why she cared so much. She'd managed to pull out of an abusive relationship that sent her to a shelter in Florida, but until the man she'd been involved with had died, she stayed hidden. I tried to find some information on how he'd died, but he had such a common name, Hal Smith, it was difficult.
Angela Putnick was interesting. Most of the photos I saw of her were in a Catholic church, but there weren't any newer ones than five years old. I checked out the church she was a member of, and it appeared that her priest vanished at about the same time she left the church.
When I finally closed the top on my computer, I had no doubt there were several people that I needed to talk to. I needed to talk to Darla some more, although I still didn't think she murdered Mr. Van Houghton.
I decided to call Darla to see if she could talk to me first thing in the morning. She said she was watching her sister's children until noon, but she'd love to meet with me after lunch. Next I called Vince and told him what I'd found.
"You really are thorough, aren't you?" he said. "We did know about Angela's priest, but this is the first I've heard about the other two."
"Beth was in Florida, so it makes sense that you didn't know about her," I said. "And Julie's friend might not necessarily reflect on anything she's done in the past."
"Do you think it's something we need to investigate?" Vince asked.
"I don't know if it's something you consider important, but since this is a murder case, I wouldn't leave overlook it."
"Getting the chief onboard with something so remote might be difficult," Vince said.
"That's where I come in. I can do anything I want because I don't have to answer to the chief." I paused. "Does he even know I'm here?"
"Yes, of course he knows you're here."
"Did he ask for me to come?"
"Um …" Vince made an odd sound with his throat. "Well…"
I leaned back on the bed as I realized what was going on. "You did this all on your own, didn't you? The chief didn't ask for me."
"You make it sound bad."
"Not bad, Vince. What I'd like to know now is what he thinks I'm doing here."
A loud whoosh sounded over the phone as Vince blew out a breath. "He sort of thinks … well, he thinks you and I are … um …"
"Does he think we're involved, like, romantically?"
"Yes."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Why did you give him that impression?"
"He jumped to that conclusion, and who am I to correct him? After all, he is my boss."
"Vince, you are a real piece of work."
"Yeah, my sister tells me that all that time. So can you stop by the station in the morning?"
I thought about how quickly word travels in a police station and what all the people would think when they saw me hanging out with Vince. "I will, but if one person so much as sneers or makes goofy eyes because he thinks we're an item, I'm so outta there."
"What time can you be there?" he asked.
"How about 10:00?"
"Why so late?"
"I have things to do." Like drive by the Van Houghton house. "But I can't stay long. I'm going to visit with Darla after lunch."
"We might have her in custody by then," Vince said.
"She told me she was going to watch her sister's children in the morning, so you at least need to give her that."
"Look, Summer, you know as well as I do that we can't cater to her sister or anyone else. This isn't a birthday party we're planning."
"Come on, Vince. Can't you put off arresting her one more day? I really don't think she did it."
"But what if she did?" he asked. "And what if we're putting society at risk by letting her run free for an extra day?"
I groaned. Vince was starting to get on my nerves.
After getting ready for bed, I spent a little more time on the Internet trying to add to my information on each of the people I'd been looking up. Finally, I closed my computer, turned off the light, and went to bed.
Maria had waffles and bacon waiting for me the next morning. She pointed to the coffee pot on the counter. "Help yourself. The mugs are in the cabinet above the coffee. I'll have your food on the table in a jiff."
"You'll make a wonderful mom someday," I said as I sat down with my steaming mug of coffee.
She set a plate down in front of me and went back to the waffle iron to get her plate. "I hope we're able to have kids," she replied. "We want to start trying in a year or two."
We chatted about what children needed. I told her about my parents and how they encouraged me to follow my dreams, even though they worried about me all the time. She said her parents used to worry about Vince, but they eventually got used to the fact that he was a cop.
After I ate, I tried to help her with the dishes, but she nudged me out of the way. "You have places to be and people to see. I'm here anyway, so I might as well do it."
I thanked her and left. All the way to the Van Houghton house, I pondered what I'd do once I got there. I really wanted to talk to Mrs. Van Houghton, but since she was freshly widowed, I wasn't sure that was a good idea.
The neighborhoods appeared to be getting more expensive, and the houses increased in size, as I got closer. By the time I reached the address I'd written down, I wasn't terribly shocked to see the mansion that the Van Houghtons called home. What did surprise me was seeing a very large moving van in the circular driveway and a middle-aged woman appearing to be barking orders to a couple of men.
She glanced over toward me as I approached, but she didn't give me more than a few seconds of her attention. Before I parked my car, she'd resumed talking.
I pulled off to the side of the expansive driveway, turned off the engine, and got out of my car, with only a moment's hesitation. Having a badge used to giv
e me an extra boost of confidence, but now all I had to go on was Vince's expectations.
Rather than interrupt her, I stood off to the side but in full view. She finally finished whatever she was saying before looking back over at me.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Summer Walsh. Are you Mrs. Van Houghton?"
She narrowed her eyes and stared at me. Then a spark of recognition flashed on her face. "You're the girl Claude hired—the one who created all sorts of havoc at the daycare center."
"Um … I guess you can say that."
At first she looked like she might take my head off if given the opportunity, but she surprised me and smiled as she came toward me with her right hand extended. "Then call me Esther." She giggled. Her demeanor didn't seem right for a freshly widowed woman. "Not many people were able to get under my husband's skin, but you certainly did. It's nice to meet you, Summer. What brings you here?" Before I had a chance to answer, she added, "Have you heard about what happened?"
Assuming she meant her husband's death, I nodded. "Yes, and I'm so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Van Hough—er, Esther."
She flipped her hand from the wrist. "Don't be sorry. That miserable, good-for-nothing man probably had it coming to him."
"Wha—?"
Esther stepped closer to me and placed her hand on my shoulder, as she looked me in the eye. "You apparently didn't know that Claude and I were separated."
I didn't want to answer. "Um ..."
"The only reason I knew about you, Summer, was that he was trying to get everything in order at the daycare center so he could dupe the court into thinking that letting me have a well-run business was all he needed to do." She rolled her eyes. "The last thing I want is a daycare center."
I pointed to the truck. "Are you moving?"
Esther nodded and sighed. "Yes, I used to love this house, but it's become an albatross." She paused as she glanced over at the house where the two men were trying to maneuver a large armoire out the door.
"Brother-in-law?"
She nodded. "Yes, Claude's brother. Summer, if there's one word of advice I can give you, it's to never have something that ties you down. This house is the one thing that stood between me and happiness."
"How's that?"
"Claude inherited it from his filthy rich parents, but he never made enough money to keep it in working order." She blinked, and I was pretty sure I saw her eyes misting over, but she quickly turned her head away from me. "I thought it was lovely at first, and I had dreams of making it as nice as it once was."
"I'm sure it was very nice," I said.
She nodded. "After his parents passed, he and his brother fought over it. I think Claude fought a little harder because he was younger and felt that he had something to prove. Besides, Claude's brother is rich in his own right, something that nearly drove my husband crazy."
Why she was telling me all of this, I wasn't sure, but I listened and took mental notes. "Does he live around here?"
"He's in Marietta in one of those newer mini-mansions that sprang up about twenty years ago. I think he regretted letting Claude live in the family home. Those new mansions don't have the same panache as the older ones."
I knew the houses she was talking about. Most of them were really nice, and the neighborhoods had amenities that the older ones didn't.
She shrugged. "I suppose I wanted more than just a big old house."
"More?"
She nodded. "Yes, I wanted more … something Claude was never able to give me." She sniffled. "I wanted a child."
"Oh." Now we were treading in very uncomfortable waters—at least for me—so I changed the subject. "Did your husband … Mr. Van Houghton mention that I was a former police officer?"
"No, dear," she said as another smile formed on her face. "How interesting that must have been."
"It was," I admitted. "In fact, it was a little too interesting. I couldn't get my mind off of it, and I figured—" I stopped myself when I realized that her chattiness had been infectious, and I was telling her way more than she needed to know. I cleared my throat. "Where are you moving to?"
"My husband owned a little townhouse a couple of miles from here." A look of concern came over her as she glanced over her shoulder. "There might be a problem with fitting all of my stuff in there, though."
Now the movers were carrying an oversized buffet out the door, and it looked heavy. "Yes, you might have trouble fitting this into a little townhouse."
Esther blinked a few times as though I'd just said something she hadn't already acknowledged. "It'll be difficult going from more than 10,000 square feet to a little place a barely more than half that size. I don't know what Claude was thinking when he bought it."
This woman clearly didn't live in the real world. My parents could fit two of their houses into a 5,000 square foot townhouse and have room left over for my garage apartment.
"Maybe you can have an estate sale."
"That sounds dreadful." Suddenly, her eyes lit up. "Would you be interested in taking some of these things off my hands? I can have them delivered to you anywhere in Atlanta."
"Sorry, but I don't live in Atlanta," I said. "I'm just here for a little while …" I didn't want to tell her specifically why I was there, so I paused. "I'm staying with some friends."
"Oh …" She turned back toward the house.
"This is a beautiful home."
"Yes, it is a beautiful house," she said as she faced me again. "But it's a sorry excuse for a home."
The sadness in those words would have broken my heart if she hadn't started yelling at one of the movers for stopping to take a break. He looked up at her and shook his head, but he didn't "hop to it" like she ordered him to.
"I have to get back to supervising those men because they obviously need to be watched," she said. "You came to see me for a reason. What can I do for you?"
I took a step back. "I just wanted to meet you while I'm here."
She tilted her head toward me and gave me a strange smile. "Are you sure that's all?"
At the moment, I had no idea what to say, so I shrugged. "I was curious."
"You wanted to know where your former boss lived?" She bobbed her head around. "That makes sense."
"Where did you say your townhouse is?"
She tilted her head and stared at me for a few seconds. "I didn't."
"Well, I suppose I'd better leave now."
"Yes, that's probably a good idea."
I started to walk away when I heard, "Summer." When I turned around, she continued. "I'm not moving of my own volition. I mean, I would have left eventually, but I got a call from Claude's brother's attorney ordering me out immediately. He said I have no rights to this house, and if I didn't get out right away, he'd have me arrested for trespassing."
"He can't—" I stopped myself because it was pointless to tell her that he hadn't followed the proper procedure to evict her—something that could take months or longer.
All the way to the police station, I thought about my conversation with Esther Van Houghton. Although she had tried to put on a cheerful front, the sadness and pain in her voice rang through loud and clear.
Vince was chatting with the receptionist when I walked into the lobby. He turned to face me and motioned for me to follow him.
As soon as we got to his desk, he pointed to the chair. "You're not going to believe what we discovered this morning. I can't tell you everything, but we've learned that Beth Swanson was originally charged in the murder of her boyfriend. Charges were dropped when the investigators couldn't find concrete evidence."
Chapter 5
"So you think Beth might have done it?" I remembered Beth as being a confident and smart but quiet woman, not someone who would murder her boss. I'd been good at reading quiet people in the past, and she didn't fit the profile of what I remembered as someone seething beneath the surface.
Vince drummed his fingers on his desk, another annoying habit. "Maybe, but Darla is still at the top of
the list."
"I still don't think she did it." I paused when I realized he was staring at me. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Something's up with you." He narrowed his eyes. "What have you been up to?"
"Guess where I went this morning," I teased.
"No telling." He chuckled and then cleared his throat as he took on a more serious face. "Maybe you'd better tell me before someone else does."
"I met Esther Van Houghton."
His eyes widened. "How on earth did you manage that? She's been so good at evading us."
"If she's been evading you, why isn't she a suspect?" I asked.
He made a goofy face. "Who says she isn't?" He leaned forward. "You know I can't tell you everything."
"You said Darla—"
"Okay, so Esther Van Houghton isn't high on the list."
"Vince, why did you call me?" I leaned back, folded my arms, stretched my legs out in front of me, and crossed them at the ankles. "Do you want my help or not?"
"Of course I want your help, as does the chief, even though he'll never come right out and say it. But we've already seen how you can take something and run with it, without a bit of guidance from us."
"A little guidance would help," I said as I sat up a little straighter.
"Why would we risk saying something that could get us into trouble, since you'll figure it out on your own?"
In some strange, convoluted way, I understood exactly what he was saying. I really needed to get past my hang-ups about not being kept in the loop. After serving the public in law enforcement, I was aware of the rules that were universal to every police force in the country. He'd already said enough to get himself and maybe even the department into a heap of trouble. Fortunately, I had no desire to cause problems for him or anyone else, so he didn't have to worry about my blabbing to the wrong people.
He continued staring at me until I finally nodded. "Okay, have it your way."
"So what did the widow in mourning say?"
"First of all, if she's in mourning, she has a strange way of showing it. She didn't seem all that upset."
Summer Walsh Mystery Collection (Boxed Set) (Omnibus): Murder Under the Mistletoe, Gun in the Garden, and Offed at the office (Summer Walsh Mysteries) Page 19
