Without a change in expression or position, he asked Jamie, “What do you know about her family?”
“They’ve had the cabin for years and she went there as a kid a lot.”
“Where do they live?”
Her mouth twitched into a grimace. “I don’t know.”
“Is Bethany Usher married?”
“No.”
“Based on?”
“Her job application.” She added with a hint of triumph, “No ring.”
“Ever married?”
“I don’t know.”
“Boyfriend?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where does she live?”
“In D.C.”
“Roommates?”
“I… I think so.”
“Previous work experiences?”
“I don’t remember, but there’s no reason I would. Celeste checks the work history and references of applicants. Hendrickson York and I meet them at the end of the process — though it’s usually volunteers, since we don’t have other employees.” Her mouth almost lifted into a smile. “Celeste has already made the decision.”
Not how Celeste Renfro presented it. Or Hendrickson York, either. Possible they’d undersold Celeste’s authority, while Jamie hyped it.
But if Jamie’s description was correct, it raised a real interesting question of why Celeste hired someone like Bethany, whom she had not exactly praised to the skies. Or did her opinion change after the hiring process?
“Did you work with Bethany?”
“No. She was hired to help Celeste.”
“Yet she offered you the use of her family’s cabin. How did that happen?”
“Very naturally. She came in my office and said she’d heard others talking about my going off to a cabin to write and her family has this great cabin in North Carolina and, please, would I use it.”
Belichek kept his gaze on Jamie for several beats, then flicked it toward Maggie.
She was waiting. “It is natural in her world. At least she’d think it was natural for people just to do nice things for her.” Almost reluctantly, she added, “And sometimes people do just do nice things for her.”
“It’s not for me. It’s for the foundation or spreading the word or—”
He interrupted. “Who else knew you were going to that specific cabin?”
“No one.”
“No one else at the foundation?”
“No.”
“How can you be sure Bethany Usher didn’t tell anyone?”
“I asked her not to.”
Maggie sighed. Clearly saying, Like that would stop anybody.
Jamie shot her a look that didn’t fit anyone’s idea of a saint. Clearly saying, Yes, it would.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“…I’m telling you, I don’t have enemies,” Jamie said.
They’d covered co-workers, friends, and exes, so far. All peach and joy according to her.
“What about that next-door neighbor?” Maggie challenged her.
Belichek’s focus tightened. She knew? Taking the stance that he didn’t know might pull more details than if they thought he did know. “Neighbor?”
“Oh. Phil Xavier. He’s not an enemy. He just wants something I have. His style is a little … abrasive.”
Belichek asked, “What do you have that he wants?”
“My house. He wants to expand his house.”
Maggie’s dryness cut across. “Right after he moved in, the arrogant prick wheedled the key off the other neighbor — what’s her name?”
“Imogen Wooten. A wonderful—”
“Easy mark.”
“—woman. But she didn’t give up the key. It was her granddaughter.”
“Fine. Her granddaughter. Phil Xavier gets the key, has an architect in there, crawling all over, and does complete drawings, like Jamie doesn’t have a choice in the matter. Had a rude awakening when she ripped him a new one.”
“I simply told him no.” One corner of her mouth twitched down, then up. “Forcefully.”
Maggie and J.D. grinned.
Belichek didn’t. “How’d he react?”
“He’s persisted. I’ve persisted back.”
“Any actions or events associated with his persistence?”
She eyed him. “Nothing I can ascribe to him with certainty.”
“What happened?” Maggie demanded.
“Nothing major. It was—”
“Garbage thrown in the patio, dog feces, broken flower pots. Did your car get keyed, too?”
“Yes, it did,” Maggie said. “You told me you had no idea who did it.”
“I don’t know.”
“He’s a bully. You should have gone after him criminally, then gone to that lawyer whose name I gave you and sued the jerk, make him hurt in the one area where he has feeling.”
Belichek asked, “Has he been in your house since then?”
“No. I changed the locks after that happened — in case he had a copy of the key made. See, Maggie, I do think of those things. And when I gave Imogen the new key—”
Maggie groaned.
“—I impressed on her not to share it with anyone. She was so upset about him doing what he did, I know she won’t.”
Belichek looked around at Carson, then Maggie. Yeah, they saw the issue, too. Imogen Wooton might not give it to Xavier, but would he take it?
For now, though, better not to get bogged down on one possibility. This was the time to gather as many possibilities as they could.
* * * *
Landis’ collection of non-leads grew.
The alibi-checking of the Sunshine Foundation staffers produced great Swiss cheese, but no leads. Phil Xavier and his wife had been boating on Chesapeake Bay on Saturday, but his planned golf outing Sunday was rained out.
They were down to two of Jamison Chancellor’s boyfriends before Carl going back to high school without alibis, and neither looked good.
The family all checked out.
Beyond the three he and Belichek talked to, the neighbors came up as big, fat nothings.
Ignoring the Sunshine Foundation’s sentiments that families who hadn’t made the cut for their help remained big fans, they’d talked to half a dozen of them with nothing close to a complaint coming up.
And now here was Terrington, sitting beside his desk, adding to the non-leads.
“Everybody in that restaurant liked her. They liked taking takeout up there or waiting on the group. Apparently, she was a good tipper.
“They talked about a guy who came in and tried to manhandle her. Before they could react, the young guy from the Sunshine Foundation — Delayne—”
“Delattre.”
“—stepped in. No other incidents. Only break in the ranks was one girl. She liked Chancellor all right, but not the Henderson guy. Said—”
“Hendrickson York.”
“—he was nice on the surface, but underneath he could be — and I quote — a real shit.
“Then I went up and talked to the foundation people. Close-mouthed. Wouldn’t say anything bad about the Chancellor woman.”
“You were there to ask them about Bethany Usher.”
“Yeah, sure, but hard to avoid the topic, with her dead body and all.”
“What did they say about Bethany Usher?”
“Not much. Didn’t seem to know her. The volunteers said they didn’t work with her much. No idea where she could be.”
“Her apartment? Vehicle? Landlord?”
“Getting to that after I write the report on the restaurant and foundation.”
“Get to it fast. And get the names right on the report,” Landis said as Terrington walked away.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
“What happened the last time you were at the Pennsylvania cabin — the one you usually go to, Jamie?”
“What?”
It was partly legit confusion at the abrupt change in direction. It was also partly avoidance.
She folded
her bottom lip in between her teeth again.
“What happened last time you were at Hendrickson York’s cabin that made you go to North Carolina instead this time?”
“It wasn’t instead. I had the offer — the generous offer — and it seemed churlish to decline when Bethany was so enthusiastic about me using her family’s cabin and she had it all figured out how I could get supplies ordered in her family’s name and delivered, plus more delivered while I was there if I needed them, so I never had to leave and there’d be no chance—” She stopped abruptly. Clamped her top teeth over her bottom lip for an instant.
He suddenly understood the mannerism didn’t indicate regret over what she’d said. It was determination not to go any farther down that path.
And that made her a more complicated witness. Stewing in regret and a complete lack of determination made a subject a heck of a lot easier to question.
With that kind of witness, he’d press his question again. What happened last time you were at Hendrickson York’s cabin?
But Jamie would slide away again, more determined not to reveal anything additional.
He felt impatience rising off Maggie like steam. She wanted to take her cousin by the shoulders and force the answer out of her.
No, not the answer. All the answers.
But Maggie was too much the professional to do that. Maybe it also was a compliment to him that she didn’t try to take over the questioning.
Carson, on the other hand, sat back and watched. Seemingly relaxed. Yet coiled. Not only taking in everything going on in the room, especially with Maggie, but outside, too.
That left Belichek to concentrate on Jamison Chancellor.
And why she was avoiding answering this.
She pretended to be comfortable with the lengthening silence, but she wasn’t.
She unclamped that hold on her lip. Her tongue came out and moistened her generous bottom lip. She shifted sideways in her chair.
As she fidgeted, Maggie calmed, experience telling her he’d hit on something.
Something Jamie wasn’t ready to give up. If she even knew it herself.
“A new place means there’s no chance of getting stale,” she picked up. Too late. Far, far too late. They all knew it, including her. She kept going. “It’s easy to get stale in that final push on a book. You go to the same place, do the same things, and there’s the danger of producing the same thing. Going to North Carolina turned out to be the right decision—”
Ah. She’d wondered about it before she went. Worried about it?
Yet she’d gone.
“—for so many reasons, including it was gorgeous and I got good work done. More work and faster than I’d counted on. I finished ahead of schedule. That’s why I came back early. That’s why I drove straight through to get home last night.”
“Finished early?”
She nodded.
“Seems like you’d take it easy coming back then. Why push yourself to get home?”
She looked straight at him. Eyes unblinking. “To have more time at home. Catch up on cleanup around the house. Routine.”
He watched as the image — the imagination — of what the non-routine cleanup around her house had entailed shattered her lying wall.
A ragged breath came out. She stood.
“I need a break.”
* * * *
Little Miss Sunshine lied her pants off.
Her pants off…
Get that image the hell out of your head, Belichek.
Jamie and Maggie were in the bathrooms, he and J.D. in the kitchen. J.D. handed him a coffee mug. “Good news is, she’s a lousy liar.”
It was as if he’d heard Belichek’s train of thought — half of his train of thought.
He accepted the mug. “Good news for now.”
While he was questioning her. But what about when — if — it was time for her to lie to other people. Not so good, then.
J.D. nodded, apparently keeping up with that line of thought, too.
But did the other man also follow up with wondering if Jamison Chancellor knew she was lying?
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
“Let’s lay this out, Jamie. After you left, someone came into your house, with no sign of forced entry and that person was shot, also with no sign of forced entry. The most likely explanation would be that at least one, possibly both, of those people gained entry with a key. And that the killer turned off the AC before leaving. It’s unlikely anyone would want to have been in the house for any period without the AC on. Who has a key to your house?”
“My parents, my cousin Ally. Maggie.”
“I’ve never used it.”
“Of course not. That would be too much like family or—”
Belichek broke in. “Anyone else, Jamie?”
“Hendrickson York, Adam Delattre, Celeste. And, of course, Imogen Wooton, who lives across the alley.”
“What about Carl Arbendroth?”
“He had one — briefly — but he returned it.”
“How briefly?”
“Two weeks.”
“Plenty of time to make a copy.”
“He wouldn’t—”
“Okay, let’s narrow this down. Who has stayed in your house in the past year?”
“They all did. That’s why they had a key.”
A beat of silence turned Jamie’s head to her cousin.
“Don’t look at me like I’m crazy. It’s normal to have people stay at your house. Just because you never let anyone in the front door, much less stay overnight—” Her gaze slid toward J.D. and something like amusement crept into her voice. “—hardly ever.”
Belichek pulled her attention back to the answers he needed. “Why? Why did all those people stay at your house?”
“My parents,” she said pointedly, “because they had an early flight out of Reagan National to—”
“Skip your parents. Ally, too.” At least for now. If they needed to widen the possibilities…
“Hendrickson York’s building lost power and they said it was going to take at least two days to restore — it was actually almost a week.
“Adam Delattre’s roommates kicked him out with basically no warning. He tried to hide it, sleeping at the office two nights, until we realized what was happening, and I insisted he stay with me.
“Celeste Renfro sold her house and had to be out of it, with a ten-day gap before she could get in her new townhouse.
“A college roommate stayed with me for about a week. She was here on business and I was working, so she needed a key.”
“Any contact with her since?”
“Of course. We talk or text every few weeks.”
“Any conflict? Any issues or disputes—?”
“No. We’re friends.” As if nothing else were possible.
He took down the former roommate’s name and contact information.
“What about Imogen Wooton?”
Jamie’s mouth lifted. “She already had a key, but she stayed with me because a gaggle of her grandkids came to visit her and with them wall-to-wall in her tiny place, she needed a refuge to get some sleep. They had a ball and she was over the moon to have them around. There’s talk about them doing it again next spring.”
He found himself caught for a moment in the vision drawn by her happy memories once-removed. Sitting upright, he stretched his back from being in the same position too long.
“Those people stayed with you, you told them how to operate things in the house? The shower, the dishwasher—?”
All happiness fled. “You mean the air-conditioner.”
“Or heat.”
“It’s only natural — so they know how to make themselves more comfortable if I’m not there.”
Without commenting on her essentially offering open house to nearly everyone she knew, he said, “Go back to your parents and cousin. Did they ever stay there when you weren’t there?”
“No.”
“So they had no reason to know how to oper
ate the air-conditioning?”
“No,” she said more strongly. “They didn’t. We never talked about it. None of them ever touched it, because I was there with them.”
Belatedly, she realized that by celebrating that her relatives knew nothing about the system and had no experience with it, she’d spotlighted that the others had known about it.
“I always emphasized that leaving it alone was the best course of action.”
“Do you know for a fact that they did leave it alone?”
“No.” Reluctant honesty. But she couldn’t let that view of the people in her life rest. “Even if they do know how to adjust the HVAC system, how can you possibly think that means one of them shot some unknown woman in my house and turned off the AC to… to… destroy evidence?”
“I don’t.”
She didn’t look as happy about his admission as he might have expected. More wary.
Good.
Wary was a hell of a lot more utilitarian attitude in this situation than happy.
“You don’t?”
“It’s one point. Need a lot more than that. Building an investigation is creating a mountain, one pebble at a time. Finding the right pebbles and putting the other ones aside. The keys and knowledge of your HVAC system give us places to look for pebbles.”
“My friends? You’re going to investigate my friends? They wouldn’t have done this. It’s impossible.”
“Someone did,” Maggie said.
“No forced entry,” Belichek reminded her.
“Imogen? You don’t know her, but—”
“Met her,” he said.
“—there is no way— Then you know. You can’t possibly think she was involved.”
“You gave her the new key you said?”
“Yes, but—”
“Do you know where that key has been since you gave it to her? If she had it copied? Gave it to someone else to use? Lost it? Had it stolen from her, including by someone who knew what it was for? Does she have it labeled? Somewhere visible?” Her expression said that bull’s-eye hit home. “Visible to anyone who came to her back door?”
“But that means you can’t suspect her,” she said, “because anyone could have seen it, even taken it.”
Price of Innocence Page 19
