“Thanks again for your time, Kellen. And I do apologize once again.”
“No, it’s cool. I get what you’re trying to do and…despite the fact that I didn’t like Elliot, I still would want to know if someone, you know, hurt him.” It seemed the girl wasn’t willing to use the term murder, but Margot couldn’t blame her.
“Of course.”
She watched Kellen go, taking in the information she’d gotten. Elliot didn’t drink, but he’d had elevated alcohol levels at his death—though no drugs. Hadn’t Adam mentioned something about an allergic reaction too? Was that due to the alcohol in his system?
And then Kellen’s description of his father. It sounded so foreign to her, and yet somehow, she had a feeling it all played into the mystery surrounding Elliot’s death.
She just had to find all of the pieces in order for her to put them together.
Chapter 7
Margot stood on the stoop of the Henry Estate. It was a miracle she’d made it this far already, but she’d come prepared. She’d pulled all of her resources to find out that Mrs. Henry was planning a soiree for the women’s auxiliary two months from now. She’d gotten permission to come “up to the house,” as the security guard had said it, in order to meet with Mrs. Henry.
Though, of course, Margot had no intention of that.
“Hello?” An older woman with graying black hair opened the door. She wore a starched gray uniform with a white apron and had a stiff appearance about her. Her tanned skin and slight accent hinted at her Hispanic ethnicity.
“Hello, my name is—
“Missus Durand. Please, come in.”
Apparently, they had called “up to the house.”
She followed the petite woman into the house and to an elegant sitting room only a few steps from the front door. It was lavished with gold-framed artwork, unique statues, and modern sofas.
“If you’ll sit.” She indicated the sofa.
“I—”
The woman held up her hand, looked behind her, and then back at Margot. “Do you wish to tell me why you are really here?”
Margot’s eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”
“Missus Henry already has a caterer for her party and I have it on good authority that you are not just a baker.”
Margot’s heart began to beat rapidly. “Well, if the truth must be known, I was hoping to meet with Mister Henry.”
The woman offered a sly smile. “That will not be possible.” But then she did something completely shocking to Margot. She sat down across from her. “But I am willing to talk with you. My name is Rosa Nunes. ”
Margot blinked. Who had this woman talked to and what did she think she knew about Margot?
“I, uh…” Margot stuttered.
Breaking her cool façade, the woman smiled. “I read the newspaper quite frequently and have a penchant for following cases. I’ve noticed your name in conjunction with several, not only here in North Bank but elsewhere.” She smoothed a hand over her skirt. “I’m a bit of a mystery buff myself. When I heard that you were coming up here, I had a feeling—a hunch if you will.”
“Then you’re a very perceptive woman, Señora Nunes.” The woman smiled at Margot’s compliment. “Since it’s obvious you’ve seen through my ruse, I’ll be equally honest with you. I was there when Elliot’s body was discovered.”
“Oh my.” Rosa gasped and covered her mouth.
“And, as I’ve gotten to know a little more about him, I’ve discovered a few things that I personally don’t feel add up in his death. This may come as a shock, but I am considering the fact that it may not have been accidental.”
Now Rosa leaned back, one hand still over her mouth and the other grasping the arm of the chair.
“You think he was murdered?”
“I honestly don’t know, but that’s why I’m here. I wanted to talk with Mister Henry to get an understanding of what was going on in the house and with Elliot.”
“I’ve worked here for many years and I know that things would not go as you hope. Mister Henry is…a difficult man. He also gets what he wants.” Margot was trying to read between the lines, but Rosa continued. “Missus Henry is upset with all of this, of course, which is causing him to want it to be over and done with. It’s not easy for any parents to lose a child, but the Henrys have such a high social standing, it’s challenging them in other ways.”
Margot wondered what could possibly be more important than the life of their child, but perhaps Rosa didn’t mean it in that way.
“What was their relationship like as a family?”
Rosa’s hand finally dropped and she leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. “They were once a very close family. They did everything together on the weekends and looked to be the perfect family unit, but once Elliot went away to college, things changed. He changed. He came back arrogant and acting entitled.” Rosa shook her head, lost in her memories. “I remember the day like it was yesterday. He came home and demanded something from his father. I suppose Mister Henry had reached the limit of his patience, because before I knew what was happening, he’d thrown Elliot out and told him to live in the guest cottage, which he’d be renting from them. He wasn’t allowed back in the house.”
“I see.” Margot nodded. If Dexter came through with the information about his finances, she had a feeling they would reflect what she was beginning to guess now. Elliot had no more money. “What did you think of Elliot Henry?”
“Oh no, you will not find me speaking ill of the dead.” Rosa shook her head adamantly. “He could be a difficult person, but he loved his parents—even if he showed it less and less the older he got.”
Rosa tapped her foot and Margot had a feeling her time interviewing the woman was drawing to a close.
“Is there anything else you can tell me? Any other information you can think of about Elliot? Strange behaviors, that sort of thing?”
“No. As arrogant as he had become, he was still kind to me. Sometimes I’d slip him leftovers, things like that. I can’t think of…” She paused, her head tilting to the side. “Actually, that’s not exactly true. There was one thing that surprised me about his recent behavior.”
“What is that?” Margot leaned forward, eager to hear any news that could shed light on the poor boy’s death.
“He started spending a lot more time with James Peck.”
“The marina caretaker?”
“Why, yes.” She looked surprised that Margot knew who he was. “James has been with the family for about five years. Maybe a little less. He came about the time Elliot had gone off to college. They never seemed to hit it off until Elliot moved into the cottage and then one afternoon, I saw them walking from the cottage together. It was strange. I did see them together at the docks a few times as well—mostly the times when Missus Henry wanted me to look after making the yacht ready to sail for a party.”
Margot milled the information around in her mind. Elliot and James had spent time together. That wasn’t shocking in and of itself, but it was strange. Or maybe she was seeing something where there was nothing.
“What can you tell me about James Peck?”
“A good man,” Rosa said with a sad smile. “His wife died years ago, leaving him to take care of his daughter. She’s in college now, I believe—just a few years younger than Elliot, God rest his soul. I liked to think that James took Elliot under his wing because Mister Henry was gone so often, but that is likely an old woman’s fantasy.”
“Anything else, Rosa?” Margot asked.
“No. But please, if you think something has happened, I hope that you will seek it out. This family deserves to know the truth. I hope that it is not true, what you say about Elliot, but more than that, I hope that you discover what has happened. I believe in you, Missus Durand.”
Margot blushed at the woman’s words. “No. Thank you for your help and for not throwing me out.” Margot winked. “Should Missus Henry ever need pastries, I really wasn’t joking about the offer.�
�
Rosa smiled and showed her to the door. As Margot drove away, she felt she knew two things better than she had before. One, Elliot wasn’t who he wanted his friends to believe, and two, she still needed to find a way to speak with Mr. Henry, even if he didn’t like the idea.
Margot sunk onto her couch with a sigh. It had been a long day with nothing solid to show for it. Then again, she had a bit of a better idea about Elliot Henry.
She picked up her mug of tea and took a light sip, careful not to burn her tongue, and pulled her computer onto her lap. Opening it, she navigated to her email inbox. With a hope for good news, she opened the tab and scanned the recent emails. Nothing from Dexter.
Clicking a new email, she paused. He would contact her if he had information, wouldn't he? Then again, if he hadn’t even responded to her emails, did that mean he needed to respond to her in the chat window he’d brought up last time? Was that a more secure way for him to communicate?
She typed in his email address, the one that would undoubtedly bounce back with an undeliverable message, and typed in two words: Any news?
Then she waited. Should she send it? The last time she’d emailed him, he had responded with the chat. Was it wishful thinking to think he’d do the same now? Then again, could it really hurt for her to reach out to him? Or could it act as a means of contacting him so that he would contact her? She wasn’t sure how this online, cloak and dagger situation was supposed to play itself out. What would be more likely to cause someone to take interest? Or were they already monitoring her emails so it wouldn’t matter?
Her hands dropped to the couch in a show of visible frustration. She didn’t know what was best and—
HELLO.
Her heart hammered in her chest at the sight of the popup chat.
YOU’RE BACK!
YEP. THINGS OK?
YES. MOSTLY. ANY NEWS?
YES. ONE MOMENT.
She waited, drumming her finger on the keyboard without hitting the keys. What kind of information could he have for her? How would he get it to her without it being traced?
Then a gray download box appeared on her screen and slowly counted up from zero percent until it was fully downloaded and an icon popped up on her screen.
ALL I COULD FIND ON SHORT NOTICE. HOPE IT’S ENOUGH.
THANK YOU! I’M SURE IT WILL HELP.
DON’T MENTION IT.
LIKE REALLY…DON’T SAY ANYTHING ;-)
She smiled at his humor. She could almost hear it in his voice as if he’d said it to her out loud.
ARE YOU OKAY? WE MISS YOU.
YEAH.
GOTTA GO.
BYE.
Then he was gone. Just like that, the screen went blank except for the icon now on her desktop.
She deleted the email she’d almost sent and then turned her attention to the zip file. Double-clicking on it revealed a few sub-folders, all with titles like “Finances 1A” and “Finances 1B.” Clicking on the first one, she saw page after page of documents that detailed Elliot Henry’s finances.
As she scrolled down, she immediately saw the issue. He was broke. Exiting out of the first round of information, she scrolled down to the bottom. They were listed in ascending numbers, but the information in the first folder had been the most current.
Clicking open the last folder, she opened the very last document. It had been created over five years ago and she noted the first statement of the bank account. The number was staggering. Clearly Elliot’s father had given him a large lump sum to live off of—was this while he was in college?
She looked at the date and then counted back. It did seem to coincide with his college attendance. She clicked out of the document and went four folders up, opening that document. As she’d suspected, the date showed when Elliot would have graduated, at least per Margot’s calculations, and the numbers slowly decreased the longer he was out of college. Living off of your allowance, though large, still meant it would disappear if nothing was added.
She continued her search, going through folders, as she got closer to the most recent ones, until deposits started popping up. They seemed to be at irregular intervals, but they were always even sums. Sometimes it was five hundred dollars, at other times it was three hundred, and there were the occasional one thousand dollar deposits. And they’d all been made in cash.
What was that about? Was it from Elliot’s father? Though that didn’t correlate with what Rosa had said about Mr. Henry and his attitude toward his son. Had Elliot gotten a job that paid him cash under the table? Though, after hearing about what type of young man he was, Margot had trouble seeing him in any type of job.
Margot leaned forward, as if closer proximity to the numbers would help her to see what she was missing.
A knock on the door made her jerk back as if she’d been shocked. Hand to her chest, she carefully moved her laptop to the coffee table and rose to peek out of the window next to the door.
“Adam, what are you doing here?” she asked after opening the door to find him standing on the stoop with a sheepish grin.
“May I come in?”
“Of course.”
He stopped to peck her on the cheek with a light kiss and then made himself at home in the large lounge chair opposite the couch. She sat across from him and crossed her legs.
“All right, what’s bothering you?”
“I have a bad feeling.” He frowned and looked everywhere but at her.
“About?”
“Elliot Henry.”
Margot tried not to show delight at the fact that he must have finally realized that he’d been wrong about Elliot’s death.
“Oh? In what way?”
“Oh stop,” he said with a grin. “You know you want to jump up and down and gloat.”
“I want to do no such thing.”
“That’s right. Because you’re too nice of a person.” He sighed and leaned back. “Things aren’t adding up and I'm afraid you’re right about his death not being an accident, but my hands are tied.”
“Is the chief still putting pressure on you to finish up the investigation?”
“Pressure? It’s more like a vice. I can’t get him to even stop and listen to me. Miles Henry must have something big on him, because this is getting out of hand.”
“Would the chief really hinder justice?”
Adam sighed and roughed a hand over his jaw. “Let’s put it this way. Without solid evidence that Elliot was, in fact, murdered, there will be no way I can get him to see this as anything other than an accident.”
“What’s made you change your mind?”
“You may not believe it, but your concern has me concerned. That, and the fact that I think I have a suspect.”
Chapter 8
Margot still replayed the conversation she’d had with Adam about what he’d discovered the night before. He wasn’t positive, but he had several reports stating that men had seen Drake Sylvester, noted best friend of Elliot Henry, and Elliot get in a fight the night of Elliot’s death. It was enough to make them both suspicious, but when Margot shared her illegal evidence with Adam—to which his frown had deepened—he was seeing things as she did by the time he left.
They’d agreed to meet up the next afternoon so that they could question Drake together. It would also look less suspicious if Adam was with Margot while down at the docks again.
The morning flew by, Bentley arriving right on time and demanding, with a good-natured smile, his regular order and an extra cookie to go. He said it was for ‘the new girl.’ When Margot had asked what he meant, he explained that, with his input, the senior complex had hired Kellen. He said she’d done well on her first day, but he guessed she was feeling overwhelmed and wanted to combat some of that with a little chocolate courage.
Margot was happy to hear that things seemed to be working out for Kellen and offered to send a few cookies over free of charge.
But now, as the clock slowly ticked to one in the afternoon, Margot found herself look
ing up to check the time every five seconds, or so it felt. Adam had said he’d come down to pick her up at quarter to one, but he still hadn’t showed.
She paced the now spotless kitchen. Back and forth. Then, finally, the front door chimed and, when she popped her head out, she was rewarded with Adam’s bright smile.
“Rosie Mae,” he said, holding out his arms to give her a hug. “How’s my favorite baker’s assistant doing?”
“Baker’s assistant?” Rosie burst into laughter. “I’m the only baker’s assistant, you know. Besides, we all know you’re here for Margot.” He laughed as she squeezed him back then patted his cheek. “She’s in the back.”
“Nope. She’s right here.” Margot came out of the kitchen with her purse on her shoulder and a light rain jacket in case the clouds followed through on their threat of drenching them all.
“Ready?”
She nodded.
“Have fun, you two.” Rosie waved at them as they left the shop and headed down the street.
“You don’t mind walking, do you?”
“Not at all. I assumed we would since my shop is close. Though I hope it doesn’t rain.”
Adam nodded. “I was thinking we should drive, but if we take that shortcut through the private dock, we could get there a little faster.”
Margot looked up at him. “You want to talk to James Peck again, don’t you?”
He grinned. “There’s my investigative partner.”
“Don’t tell Les,” she said with a laugh. “He won’t like me upstaging him.”
“Scout’s honor.”
They walked along the cobbled streets toward the marina, the gentle breeze coming off the Potomac bringing with it a fresh, almost salty breeze. The shops were colorful, all painted in different pastels and a few neutrals to give the street a vibrant feel. They passed the pet shop and then Tamera’s craft boutique. The sign read ‘closed’ and Margot knew that she would be opening again after lunch.
That was the beauty of a smaller town. Shop owners could take the time to have lunch and then come back to work. Though they had faced an even busier tourist season than before—something Margot was grateful for but also overwhelmed by. She needed Dexter back.
Margot Durand Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 4 - 6 Page 24
