Then again, in his shoes, she’d be tempted to do things her own way. Maybe, in a conflated sense, it was best for her to continue her own investigation when it was clear Adam’s hands were tied.
So, investigate she would.
Margot sunk into the plush comfort of her couch, pulling her laptop onto her lap. She wanted to do more investigating, but felt like she’d come to a wall. Almost everyone she’d talked to who knew Elliot had thought of him as an arrogant person. Most hadn’t liked him. Except James Peck.
She’d typed in his name, but nothing came up in the search. Or, to be more specific, a lot had come up, but nothing had been specific to North Bank. She’d even narrowed the field down by the town, then the harbor name, and even adding in the Miles Henry affiliation, but at that level, no connections were made.
She leaned back, sipping her hot, herbal tea. The pungent smell of peppermint greeted her as she closed her eyes in thought.
When someone was murdered, aside from it being a heat of the moment crime, there had to be motive. The strongest motives were money and power. At least that was what she remembered Julian saying. Or had that been from a book she’d read?
She laughed and opened her yes, her gaze falling on the computer. If money was a factor, then she needed to find out what Elliot’s financial situation had been. Something told her it wasn’t what he wanted everyone to think it was, but she couldn’t be sure.
Putting down her tea, she opened her email and typed in Dexter Ross’s email. She bit her lip, her fingers hesitating over the keyboard. Should she bother him?
Her mind conjured the image of smiling Dexter, her former baker’s assistant. He’d all but taken over on his working days in the shop and had given her a type of rest she hadn’t known in the years since opening her pastry shop. But then one day, two men who looked to be from the government had shown up and before she knew it, Dexter was leaving on extended time off.
Letting out a sigh, she let her fingers drop onto the keyboard. She missed Dexter, not just for the support and relief he gave her, but for the fact that he really had become like part of the North Bank family. He’d spent time at the senior center, made wonderful friends in town, and had genuinely seemed to enjoy working for her. Then he’d left.
She’d pressed Adam about it for weeks after he’d gone, banking on the fact that Adam had known the boy in the past, but Adam’s lips remained sealed on the matter and she’d let it go, knowing that Adam would do what was best for Dexter in the long run.
Still, was sending him an email a break of his request for time off?
Then again, she wasn’t emailing about work. During a previous case, she’d discovered Dexter’s special ability to find information online. And by special, she knew he’d actually done some hacking, most of it likely illegal, to get her what she needed.
To be at an impasse as she was, it seemed a desperate and possibly dangerous request, but she was running out of options. The chief wouldn’t let Adam help her and she had no one else on the force to do the digging for her. Whatever she found wouldn’t be admissible in court, but it could lead her to the real culprit and give Adam and Les some hard facts to follow up on.
Hesitation gone, she typed furiously into the email and pressed send with a swift click.
Moments later, an email replied. It was an “access denied” email that she didn’t understand. Did that mean Dexter hadn’t gotten the email?
As she sat there, staring at the empty screen, a chat window suddenly appeared.
WHAT’S UP MARGOT?
She swallowed. What was going on here? She’d never seen a chat like this before.
HELLO?
IT’S ME. YOUR FAITHFUL SIDEKICK IN THE KITCHEN.
Margot bit her lip. Was this really Dexter? And was there a reason he wasn’t coming out and telling her who he was? Or was it someone trying to act as him?
WHAT SONG DO I LIKE TO SING IN THE MORNINGS WHEN I’M MAKING RELIGIEUSE?
HAHA. THAT ANNOYING SONG FROM SOUND OF MUSIC. CLIMB EVERY MOUNTAIN OR SOMETHING.
That was it. It was him.
WHAT IS GOING ON? WHY DIDN’T YOU EMAIL ME BACK?
There was a pause and it extended so long she was afraid he was gone but then his reply came in.
NOT SURE WHO COULD BE JOINING THE CONVERSATION. YOU KNOW. THE WALLS HAVE EYES AND ALL. BUT YOU RANG?
She could hear his humor even through text.
I’M NEEDING…HELP. I’M DOING SOME RESEARCH. She had a feeling he’d know what she meant by research.
OH YEAH?
RECENT EVENTS IN N.B. HAVE MADE IT CLEAR SOMEONE… She hesitated. Should she tell him the name she was researching? Was it safe? ISN’T WHO THEY SAY THEY ARE.
NAME?
So apparently it was safe. He must have found a way to make the connection secure—and still, he hadn’t divulged his name. Well, she trusted him and he’d proved that it was, in fact, her former employee, so she’d trust him on this too.
ELLIOT HENRY.
I’LL GET BACK TO YOU.
ARE YOU…OKAY? She felt like a broken record asking him this.
PEACHY.
Was he being sarcastic? Then another thought occurred to her.
YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY. FOLLOW THE MONEY.
She hoped he would get the reference for Elliot and not think it meant him.
YOU GOT IT.
Then the window went blank where it had been green for active before. She still wasn’t sure how he’d been able to contact her, but her strong suit was decidedly not computers.
Sighing, she closed her laptop and leaned back. Hopefully, Dexter could help her, but more than that, she hoped that he was all right.
Chapter 6
The next morning, Margot was at the bakery earlier than usual. She got in her regular baking, did an extra order of cupcakes with mini macarons on top for a special order, and then sat behind her computer for a few business details she had to attend to before the doors opened.
She hadn’t heard anything from Dexter, though she hadn’t really expected to since they’d only messaged the night before. Still, she checked her email obsessively as she worked until she couldn’t take it anymore.
The front door opened, the ding of the bell alerting her to a customer, and she came out to see Bentley.
“Good morning,” he said, standing upright with his newspaper beneath one arm and his cane in the other.
Ever since his fall, where he’d injured his back, he walked with a cane, though most of the time when she saw him with it, it rested in the crook of his arm and not on the ground.
“You’re here early.”
“I’m right on time,” he said with a good-natured frown.
She looked up at the copper-plated clock that fit in with the old-world feel of the bakery, and gasped. “Goodness. The time has literally flown this morning.”
“Apparently.”
“The usual?”
At his nod, she prepared his caramel pecan cinnamon roll and coffee, bringing it out and taking the seat across from him.
“You look like you’ve got a problem on your mind.” He looked up from his crossword, his wire-rimmed glasses perching on the end of his nose.
“I’ve got a—” She almost said ‘case,’ but thought better of it. “—dilemma.”
“What’s that?”
“Say you don’t know someone, but you’ve talked to people who do.”
“Right,” he said, waiting.
“Every one of them says the person is not a good guy, but then you talk to one person who says he was a good guy.”
“This isn’t about Adam, is it?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “No, Adam is definitely one of the good ones.” Saying that make her feel a twinge of sadness at how she’d left things the previous day.
“Good, because I like you two together.” Bentley gave a decisive nod and looked down at his crossword as if he didn’t want to meet her gaze.
“Thanks, Bentley, I appreci
ate that. But no, this isn’t about him.”
“Then I would say consider the people that you talked to. Are they trustworthy? And, if so, what is their relationship to the person?”
She leaned back, her gaze traveling out to the street. Bentley had made a good point. Kellen obviously was biased seeing as how she’d dated Elliot. Steve also had a bias because his sister had dated him. Then again, Sal had no bias aside from seeing Elliot at the clubhouse. But James…he also had a bias. Did he feel obligated to say good things about Elliot because of his employer?
None of them appeared to be lying, but she couldn’t be sure. Maybe meeting with James again would be a good idea? Then something else popped into her head. Could she meet with Miles Henry himself? It seemed unlikely. He was an important man and, if Adam were right and he was the one putting pressure on the chief to end the investigation of his son’s death, then he wouldn’t want to speak with her about it.
But still, she couldn’t ignore the fact that a conversation with him would be helpful.
“Do you know anything about the Henrys?”
Her question seemed to startle Bentley. “You mean Miles Henry?”
“And his son.”
“The boy who died.”
She nodded and Bentley put down his pen, resting his head against his hand. “I know of him.”
That doesn’t help me, she thought.
“But I assume you’re asking because you’re looking into the boy’s death.”
Margot had learned a long time ago not to be surprised when Bentley concluded, accurately so, about what she was up to. There was no need to beat around the bush.
“I am. Adam and I…” She trailed off, the image of the poor young man’s body ingrained in her mind. “We found his body. That day we went on the picnic.”
“Oh, Margot,” Bentley said, his weathered hand covering hers and squeezing gently. “I had no idea.”
“I just can’t accept that it was an accidental drowning. He had a bracelet on that indicated he was a good swimmer—certified, even. Why would he drown then?”
“Plenty of people can be good swimmers and still drown.”
“I know,” she said, the frustration of the puzzle coming out in her words. “Sorry, I don’t mean to burden you with this.”
“Not at all. But I’m afraid I’ll be of no use. I never ran in the same circles as Miles Henry—no one really does. He’s got more money than he knows what to do with.”
That sparked something in Margot. Did Elliot’s death have something to do with his inheritance? She needed to find a reason to speak with Miles Henry.
Just then, she heard her phone ringing in the back and rushed off to answer it. It was Kellen.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Kellen,” she said. “I recognized your number from caller ID.” Suddenly, she felt as if she should have called the girl first.
“I was wondering if you needed any other questions answered about, well, me.” She sounded hesitant. “I just lost my job here at the club—uh, nothing I did, really. But I guess you could say I’m looking for work at an accelerated pace now.”
Margot wondered if her meeting with the girl had somehow put her job in danger. Then an idea sparked. “Why don't you come down to the bakery today and we’ll have a chat.”
“Oh, all right. That would be great. Thank you.”
When she hung up, Margot felt like she’d gotten herself into something she hadn’t bargained for. And yet, if nothing else, she could see if the girl would offer up any more information about Elliot.
“What was that all about?” Bentley asked when she came back to the front room.
“Hired help.”
“Replacing Dexter already?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “But I may have overstated what I’m interested in.”
“It’s for this case, isn’t it?” Bentley asked, his keen eyes narrowing.
“Maybe,” she said with a grin, knowing he already knew the real answer.
“And this girl needs a job?”
“Apparently in an expedited manner. I just hope she won’t be too disappointed when I can only offer her a few part-time opportunities.”
“Say,” Bentley said, snapping his fingers. “The complex where I live is hiring for a new community events manager. Maybe she could apply for that?”
Margot felt a spark of hope. “I’ll be sure to mention it to her.”
“Tell her to put me down as a reference,” Bentley said with a broad smile. “I’ve got what they like to call pull.”
Margot laughed and shook her head. “You just flirt with all of the ladies at the front desk is all.”
He shrugged. “And I never have to worry about the maintenance on my apartment.”
She shook her head and went back to her office until Kellen would arrive. She may have gotten herself into this mess, but she would get herself out.
When Kellen arrived, the weather looked nice so Margot let Rosie take over the shop while she showed Kellen to the back patio with a plate of pastries and glasses of iced coffee.
“Thanks for meeting with me,” Kellen said, her shoulders drooping.
“What happened at the country club?” She hoped her question wouldn't seem like she was prying but she added, “I hope it had nothing to do with our meeting.”
“Oh no.” Kellen shook her head and met Margot’s gaze. “I mean, in a way it is related, but it’s not your fault. My manager and I haven’t been seeing eye to eye recently, so we had a…discussion. I was respectful, but I explained that I had other offers and if they were going to keep me on at the same pay rate—I haven’t gotten a raise in over three years—then I was going to have to look for another job.”
“I take it he didn’t do well with that.”
“Nope.” She let out a sigh and flopped back against the chair. “He said fine and told me to go find something better. I mean, I suppose I understand. They could hire just about anyone to do my job and they wouldn’t have to pay them more.”
Margot appreciated the woman’s honesty and nodded. “Kellen, I have a confession to make.” The girl met her gaze with raised eyebrows. “I’m not exactly looking for new help.” Margot felt the stab of guilt at how the girl must view her.
“Then why talk with me?”
Letting out a long sigh, Margot explained to the young woman how she and Adam had found the body of Elliot Henry and how Margot had noticed the wristband. Then she’d explained how Steve had mistaken her interest in Kellen and how it had all played out.
“Wow,” Kellen said when Margot was done. “That’s intense.”
Margot assumed the girl meant about Elliot’s death, but she wanted to be sure. “I know it seems—or possibly was—a little underhanded and I apologize for that, but I want you to know I do care about your job situation. In fact, I got you an interview with the senior living complex. It’s a job I think you’d be great for. If you’re interested, there’s an interview set up for ten a.m. tomorrow.”
Kellen’s features softened into a smile. “You really didn’t have to do that. Now that you’ve explained it, I totally get it. I probably wouldn’t have talked with you if I thought it was about Elliot.”
“I assumed as much.”
“And thanks for the interview. I’ll definitely be there. I hadn’t thought about the senior living complex, but hey, it could be fun, right?”
Margot smiled, thinking of Bentley. “I’m sure it will be. I know many of the residents there and they are a feisty bunch. You’ll have your hands full should you get the position.”
“I think I’m up for the challenge.” Kellen leaned back and took a sip from her iced coffee.
“Can I ask you a few questions bout Elliot? If you don’t mind, of course”
“No, it’s okay. We broke up about six months ago, so I’m pretty over it by now.”
“I’m just trying to understand what type of man he was. I’ve talked with several people who have known him and, like you,
none seem to really care for him.”
“I’m not surprised,” she said, taking a bite of an éclair. “Especially toward the end of our relationship, he was getting weird. He was a party boy at heart, but he started to miss dates we’d planned and be gone when he was supposed to be home. Things like that. It was kind of bizarre.”
“So, he did a lot of drinking then.” Margot thought of the M.E.’s report of the alcohol in his system.
“Oh, definitely not.”
“What?” Margot’s gaze jumped to Kellen’s.
“That was the one thing Elliot did not do. No alcohol.”
“Really. I find that surprising with his party boy mentality.”
“It was surprising at first, but I think he said he had an intolerance to alcohol. I don't know if that was true or just something he said so that no one gave him a hard time for not drinking—you know how guys can be.” She rolled her eyes. “But he didn’t do it. He was totally fun sober, so I didn’t mind.”
“But you also said he stopped paying his tab. I find that so interesting, knowing that he comes from such wealth.”
Kellen shook her head. “I mean, we didn’t talk money—kind of as a rule, you know? I’d told him up front I didn't care about any of that, and I don't, but I got to know a little bit about the family. Mister Henry is crazy. And I do mean crazy.” Kellen was warming up to Margot and talked faster and faster, some of her professionalism dropping. “He wouldn’t give Elliot a dime if he hadn’t done something for him. It was kind of weird. I mean, Elliot was twenty-three and his dad was making him do chores and stuff…well, rich kid chores, to be able to stay on at the guest house.”
Margot took all of this in. It made her want the financial records on Elliot even more, but she couldn’t rush Dexter, primarily because she didn’t even know how to contact him.
“That is very strange.”
“Yeah. I got the feeling Mister Henry didn’t approve of me. I was only a Country Club worker anyway.” She sighed and finished her iced coffee. “I should probably go. I have one other interview that probably won’t pan out.” She laughed. “Here’s hoping the senior living complex can use someone like me.”
Margot Durand Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 4 - 6 Page 23
