Tessa drove back to Jason’s house. A black F-250 was parked in the driveway. As Tessa parked, the vehicle door opened, and a woman climbed out with surprising agility, considering she stood at five feet nothing and might have weighed a hundred pounds after a really big dinner.
Standing next to her pickup truck, she zipped a bright-pink puffer jacket over athletic tights in a crazy white-and-pink geometric pattern. Her fluorescent-pink athletic shoes matched her fingernails and lipstick.
Logan stepped out of the SUV and joined Tessa on the driveway. They approached the older woman.
“Are you Ms. Springer?” Tessa asked.
“I am, but you can call me Marybeth.” Her sharp blue eyes did not appear to have shed any recent tears.
Tessa handed her a business card and introduced herself and Logan.
Marybeth glanced at the card and stuffed it in her pocket. She pointed at Logan. “You’re Jane Sutton’s grandson.” She turned to Tessa, her face softening with pity. “And you’re Bonnie Flagg’s daughter. I’m sorry about your mother.”
Family and island connections were more important than jobs on Widow’s.
“I heard about Jason yesterday,” Marybeth said. “So I wasn’t surprised when you called.”
“Thank you for agreeing to speak with us,” Tessa said.
“I’m happy to help.” Marybeth waved to the crime scene tape strung across the doorway. “Can we go into the office? I didn’t want to go in without your permission.”
“Yes,” Tessa answered.
Tessa and Logan fell into step on each side of her, and they entered the outer office.
“I’d like you to see if anything is missing or misplaced,” Tessa began.
Marybeth removed her jacket and hung it on a coat-tree in the corner. She moved behind the desk, looked down at the half-open drawer, and frowned. “Were the files messy like this when you first saw them?”
“Yes, ma’am. Does the office normally look like this?”
Marybeth shot Tessa a steady, slightly insulted glare. “Do I look like I keep a sloppy office?”
“No, ma’am.” Tessa cleared her throat.
Marybeth scanned the desk and filing cabinets. “It might take days for me to go through all of these files and see if anything is missing. I will let you know as soon as I’m finished.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Tessa said. “I’m going to assign a deputy to help you. Do you know anyone who had a grudge against Jason McCoy?”
“Everyone who knew Jason had words with him. Pardon my French, but he was what people nowadays call a douchebag.” Marybeth pronounced the word carefully, as if it was unfamiliar. “He could not talk to a woman without making some asinine comment, and with other men, he was either a bully or all ‘nudge, nudge, wink, wink,’ if you know what I mean.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Logan snorted and covered a grin. “You don’t seem to be upset about his death.”
Marybeth sat behind the desk. “That man was his own worst enemy. I was always telling him that honey draws more bees than vinegar, but he seemed determined to make people hate him. Any tears shed for him will be fake.”
“What about his wife?” Logan asked.
Marybeth’s head moved back and forth in a slow disapproving shake. “She was young enough to be his daughter. She married him for his money, and when he tightened the purse strings, she threw a hissy fit.”
What a horrible life, Logan thought. “You don’t think she loved him?”
“I don’t think they loved each other. Jason liked the way she looked on his arm. Sarah was an accessory that made him feel successful, like a Rolex or an expensive car. She likes jewelry, travel, and nice clothes. As long as those things remained in balance, their marriage was exactly what each of them expected. I don’t think either of them had any illusions of true love.”
Tessa pulled out her notepad. “When was the last time you saw Jason?”
“Monday morning when I came to the office. I work from eight to twelve on weekdays.” Marybeth pointed toward the inner office. “He was making calls and answering emails when I left at noon.”
Tessa wrote down the information. “Did he seem upset about anything?”
Marybeth nodded. “He was worried about money. His current project is nearly complete, and there was no work in the pipeline.”
“Was that unusual?” Logan leaned on the wall.
“It’s happened before, but it always upset him. This is a small island. The available work is limited. Luckily, Jason was a very skilled carpenter, which was the reason most people put up with his shenanigans. He could usually find work eventually.”
Logan thought about a tightening cash flow. “Did Jason owe anyone money?”
“Maybe,” Marybeth said. “He fired Peter Evans two weeks ago. Peter was the crew leader. Jason said that Peter was stealing materials—lumber, nails, et cetera. Jason refused to pay him for his last two weeks of work, claiming that it was payment for the stolen goods.”
“Did Jason offer any proof?” Tessa asked.
Marybeth shook her head. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask Peter, but Jason didn’t press charges.”
“How did Peter handle being fired?” Tessa asked.
“Not well,” Marybeth said. “He threatened to beat up Jason if he didn’t pay him.”
Which made Peter Evans a suspect.
Tessa asked, “Do you have Peter’s address?”
“Yes.” Marybeth wrote on a notepad and handed the paper to Tessa.
A beam of winter sunlight streamed through the window. Logan squinted against the glare. “What was the last job Jason was finishing up?”
Marybeth paused to take a long breath. “The renovation of the old Smuggler’s Point Farm property. It’s being turned into an inn.”
“Didn’t that used to be an orchard?” Logan asked. “I remember picking apples there when I was a kid.”
“Yes, but the property has been sitting vacant for years,” Marybeth said.
“Who purchased the property?” Tessa asked.
“Roger Duvall.” Marybeth turned back to the desk. She pulled the drawer with the broken latch open fully.
Logan didn’t recognize the name.
“Did Roger have issues with Jason?” Tessa asked.
Marybeth thumbed through the files. “Jason was hard to get along with, but the renovation work he did at the inn was excellent. There isn’t another carpenter on the island who could have done what he did to that old farmhouse, and Roger knew it.”
“Did Roger pay?” Logan wondered about money.
“He was fully up to date with payments.” Marybeth nodded.
“How long have you worked for Jason?” Tessa asked.
“Eleven years,” Marybeth said. “I will miss the steady paycheck. It was a nice supplement to my retirement income.”
“But you won’t miss Jason?” Logan asked.
“Sadly, no.” Marybeth shook her head.
Tessa asked, “If Jason was so terrible, why did you stay with him for so long?”
Marybeth made a pshaw sound. “Lots of reasons. I was too old for him to hit on. I liked the job, and the hours were perfect. Also, he wasn’t actually in the office that much. He spent most of his time at the jobsite and left me alone to do the administrative work. Lastly, when I first took the job, I made it clear that I wouldn’t put up with any of his bullshit temper tantrums. He learned to behave himself.”
Yep. Marybeth Springer was a gem.
She looked up from the files. “I heard someone set the house on fire intentionally. Is it true he was killed here?”
It was impossible to keep anything quiet on the island.
“I’m afraid we can’t comment on an active investigation,” Tessa said. “Do you have Jason’s computer and email passwords?”
“I can give you access to the company’s emails, et cetera.” Marybeth reached for a notepad on the desk and began making a list. “But Jason never gave me the passwords for his pers
onal accounts or computers. All the years I worked for that man, and he was still very secretive and suspicious.”
Tessa tilted her head. “Do you know why?”
Marybeth ripped the top sheet off the notepad and handed it to Tessa. “Jason had at least one affair. He was sleeping with Sarah while he was still married to Heather.”
Logan thought of Sarah’s bitterness at her husband’s apparent disinterest. “Do you think he was cheating on Sarah?”
“Who knows?” Marybeth rolled her eyes. “He could have been sleeping with every woman on the island. I couldn’t care less. Although I did feel bad for his first wife, Heather. She deserved better.”
“But not Sarah?” Logan asked.
“Sarah is a gold digger,” Marybeth said in a matter-of-fact voice. “She got exactly what she bargained for.”
Logan remembered Sarah’s seemingly fake grief.
Marybeth tsked. “Jason always acted as if I was spying on him. As if I had the time or interest to pry into his personal life. In my opinion, the most suspicious people are also the guiltiest.”
5
Tessa’s phone beeped as she drove away from Jason’s office. She glanced at the screen and read Kurt’s number, then answered the call. “You’re on speaker, Kurt. Logan is here.”
“I just spoke with Jason’s Seattle attorney,” Kurt said. “The will is as Sarah McCoy stated. She gets the marital assets and splits the rest of Jason’s estate with his two sons. She was telling the truth about the prenup as well. If she had divorced him, all she would have gotten was half of the assets accumulated since they married. Their house is mortgaged to the roof, and they have more credit card debt than cash. His protected assets, however, including investment, retirement, and business accounts, total nearly two million dollars. Jason was worth much more to his wife dead than alive.”
Just as Tessa had suspected.
“Thanks, Kurt. Would you please pull background information on Peter Evans and Roger Duvall?” Tessa asked.
“Will do. I’ll let you know when I have more information.” Kurt ended the call.
Tessa sent Bruce a text and asked him to report to Jason’s office to help Marybeth. The younger deputy was good with computers. While he was there, he could dig into Jason’s laptop.
“Let’s talk to Jason’s first wife,” Tessa said.
North Sound was the main tourist town on Widow’s Island. Tessa stopped at Heather’s address, a small house on the outskirts of town, but Heather wasn’t home. “We’ll try the Taproom. Maybe she’s working.”
Tessa continued into North Sound and made a right at the Black Tail Bakery. Her stomach rumbled. She checked her watch. “It’s lunchtime.”
“I could go for a sandwich.” Logan rubbed his sternum. “And maybe an apple fritter?”
Tessa turned into the bakery parking lot. Logan ran inside and bought two sandwiches and an apple fritter to split. They ate as she drove out to the Harbor View Inn, a luxury resort with views of Harlot Harbor. The Breakneck Taproom was located inside the inn.
Tessa ate the last bite of the fritter as she parked in the hotel lot. She wiped the sugar from her fingers and stuffed the crumpled napkin into the paper bag. “That’s better.” She reached for the manila folder Kurt had given her earlier. Flipping through the pages, she said, “Heather is pretty boring. The worst thing in her record is a speeding ticket.” She scanned the rows of cars and spotted a ten-year-old Honda Civic. The license plate matched Heather’s vehicle registration. “There’s her car.”
They went into the hotel lobby and passed the registration desk on their way to the Breakneck Taproom, where heat poured from the fireplace. Tessa paused to spread her hands in front of the flames for a few seconds as she glanced around. Three leather barstools were occupied.
Tessa nodded toward a man dressed in a suit, tie, and vest combo. “There’s the manager, Victor Cobb.”
She’d collected a few drunken tourists from the Taproom over the past year and a half. Victor had always been appreciative of her help. She crossed to the bar and called his name.
Slightly stodgy and in his late forties, Victor fit the old tavern well. He walked over and faced her from behind the bar. “What can I do for you, Deputy?”
Tessa introduced Logan. “We’re looking for Heather McCoy.”
His eyes grew troubled. “Heather is my sister. You’re here about Jason’s death, then?” Victor kept his voice low.
Tessa nodded.
Victor raised the hinged partition and walked out from behind the bar. “I’ll get her for you. You can talk to her in the back room.”
“Thank you.” Tessa turned to Logan, leaning close to his ear. “Would you talk to Victor while I interview Heather?”
“Sure,” Logan said.
A door swung open next to the bar. A woman came through carrying a tray of food. She was in her early fifties. Seeing Tessa, she stopped short.
“There she is.” Victor went to his sister and took the tray from her. “Deputy Black wants to talk to you. I’ll cover.”
Heather’s gaze flickered to Tessa, then back to her brother, and she nodded. “These go to table six.” She turned to Tessa. “Please come with me.” Heather escorted Tessa through a doorway into a small room. A long table covered with dishes, folded linens, and glassware had been pushed against one wall. Boxes were stacked in a corner.
Jason’s first wife was the polar opposite of his second. Heather had dark hair cut in a pixie style, and her makeup was limited to a little mascara and soft mauve-colored lipstick.
Tessa pulled out a chair. “Why don’t we sit down?”
But Heather walked a few paces away, then whirled. “I assume you’re here about the Dick?”
Caught off guard, Tessa paused halfway into the chair. “Your ex-husband, Jason?”
“Yep. That’s him. The Dick.”
“You’ve heard about Jason’s death, then?” Tessa eased into the seat.
Heather interlaced her fingers. “Yes.”
Tessa pulled out her notepad and pen. “How long have you been divorced?”
“The papers were signed two years ago, but we split up a year before that.” Heather pivoted and began pacing. “I’ll save you the math. Jason remarried before the ink was dry.”
Tessa said nothing.
“He was sleeping with the Dumbass while he was still married to me. For your records, the Dumbass is wife number two, Sarah.”
“Noted.”
Heather snorted, then resumed talking. “I won’t pretend to forgive him. Jason was a selfish, self-important man. As soon as I started looking less than perfect, he dumped me for a younger model.” She paused. “I don’t hold it against Sarah. She wasn’t my spouse. She didn’t promise to love and honor me. He did. She’s barely older than our children. But she’s a fool if she thought he’d be a good husband. Jason slept with her while he was married to me. What made her think he wouldn’t cheat on her? Once a cheater, always a cheater.”
“Did he cheat on her?”
“I don’t know.” Heather’s brow furrowed. “If he did, it wouldn’t be that hard to find out. It’s impossible to keep a secret on this island.”
“When was the last time you saw Jason?” Tessa asked.
“He had lunch here yesterday.” Heather’s face turned bitter.
“Did you say—”
“Yes. Jason ate here once a week. He enjoyed making me serve him.”
Tessa straightened. This case was getting more bizarre. “What time was that?”
“He came in around noon and left around one thirty.”
Jason was alive Monday at one thirty p.m.
“Do you remember what he ate?” Tessa asked.
“He always orders a rare steak and potatoes.” Heather raised both hands. “Look, I know I’m coming off as angry, but I’m glad we got a divorce. Despite the financial hardships, I’m happier without him than I ever was with him.”
“You didn’t get alimony in the divorce?�
�
“I signed a prenup.” Heather frowned. “Jason had all his ducks in a row. I thought he loved me, and it didn’t matter. I was the dumbass at the time.”
“You and Jason have children together.”
“We do.” Heather’s face lit up with pride. “Two sons. Twenty-four and twenty-six. They both live in Seattle.”
“What is their relationship with their father?”
“I don’t talk about Jason when I’m with the kids. As angry as I was at Jason, I refused to bad-mouth him in front of our boys. Not that it mattered. They’re not close to him. Neither one of them wanted to take over the business. Jason has been angry about that for years, and the boys know it. They see him on holidays.”
“How often do you see your sons?”
Heather smiled. “I go to Seattle one weekend every month. I would move there if I could afford it, but housing costs are outrageous. My oldest offered to let me live with him, but that’s not right. His apartment is very small, and he deserves to have his own life.”
“You didn’t see Jason again after lunchtime yesterday?” Tessa asked.
“No.” Heather hesitated. “If you’re looking for an alibi, I worked until eight.”
“You didn’t leave the restaurant during your break or at any other time during your shift?”
“No.” She paused. “I did take a break after the lunch rush, probably around two. I walked down to the water and back. I needed the fresh air.”
“How long were you outside?” Tessa asked.
“Only about ten or fifteen minutes.”
“Can anyone verify that?”
Heather nodded. “My brother.”
“What did you do after work?”
“After an eight-hour waitressing shift?” Heather snorted. “I went home, had one glass of wine, and went to bed.”
Tessa closed her notepad. “Thank you, Mrs. McCoy. You’ve been very helpful. I’ll likely have more questions as the investigation proceeds.”
“Of course.” Heather gave Tessa her cell phone number. “I had nothing to gain by killing Jason.”
But maybe Heather was tired of waiting on him every week.
Tessa entered the number into her phone. “One last question. Can you drive a boat?”
Whisper of Bones Page 4
