Addison Lockhart 3

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  “I don’t need any help, thank you,” Brie hissed. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “I’m not offering help,” Lia replied. “I’m offering facts.”

  Sensing the escalating tension, Lancaster cut in. “Ladies. Let’s keep it friendly. There’s no reason we can’t all help each other.”

  Brie rolled her eyes and hissed again. “Fine. Can I do my job now?”

  While Brie pretended to let it go, Lia could not.

  “Just so we’re all clear, I’m a medical examiner in Rhinebeck,” Lia said. “Based on the size of the entry wound, I believe Mrs. Ravencroft was stabbed.”

  “Did you find anything to back up your theory?” Lancaster asked.

  “We’ve had a look around,” Lia said, “but we haven’t found anything so far.”

  “We’ve been trying to piece together what happened,” Addison said. “There hasn’t been time to do much else.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll take care of it.” He bent down until he was eye level with Gene. “How are you holding up?”

  Gene said nothing.

  “You want to tell me what happened here, buddy?” Lancaster said. “I can’t do much to help you until I know.”

  Gene took a deep breath in. “Doesn’t matter what happened, Aaron. It just doesn’t matter. Nothing does. She’s dead.”

  “It’s okay. Take some time. We’ll talk again later.” Lancaster stood and turned toward Beck. “All right, let’s divide these two groups up, ask some preliminary questions.”

  Beck nodded.

  Lancaster swiped a finger through the air, rounding up Addison, Lia, and Marjorie. “I’ll take these three. You take the other two.”

  Whitney and Colin followed Beck out of the room.

  “Ladies, let’s talk in the hall,” Lancaster said.

  Addison, Marjorie, and Lia followed him out of the room.

  “What about Gene?” Addison asked.

  “Oh, he’ll be all right.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “He’s not going anywhere. We know each other.”

  That much was obvious.

  “How do you know him?” Addison pressed.

  “He played football with my father in high school. They’ve been friends for many years.”

  Lancaster exchanged glances with Addison and seemed to pick up on her concerns. Favorable treatment was being given to Gene, a man who may have been guilty of killing his wife.

  He poked his head inside the bedroom. “Brie, keep an eye on Gene, will ya?”

  “Anything else you expect me to do while I’m at it?”

  “Improving your attitude would be a great place to start.”

  Lancaster reached into his pocket, pulling out a small notepad and a pen. “All right then, let’s get everyone’s names.”

  They each stated their name, and he took them all down.

  “Fine,” he continued. “Which one of you wants to tell me what happened?”

  Addison raised a finger, quickly realizing the gesture made her feel like a child in elementary school. She lowered it. “I will.”

  He kicked his heel against the wall and leaned back. “All right, then. Go ahead.”

  Addison relayed the previous hour’s events.

  When she finished, he said, “So ... no one knows who the possible mystery man was in Catherine’s room earlier?”

  Addison shook her head. “I didn’t get a look at him, and according to Gene, Catherine never told him who stopped by today.”

  “And that’s it? Anything else I should know?”

  “What we know, you know,” Marjorie said.

  “I’ll need to get your statements. Are all of you from Rhinebeck, or just Lia?”

  It was a tricky question to answer. While Addison and Lia resided in Rhinebeck, Marjorie didn’t reside anywhere. In recent years, she’d taken up the life of an expat, preferring to travel the world than to anchor to any one place for a length of time. Rather than explain, Addison did what Marjorie was already doing. She nodded.

  “As soon as O’Shea gets here, we’ll head down to the station,” Lancaster said.

  “Who is O’Shea?” Addison asked.

  “The medical examiner.”

  “And you?”

  “Detective. Like I was saying, we’ll head to the station. I’ll take your statements and question you individually. Until the medical examiner looks her over and I do a sweep of the house, you three will need to stick around the area.”

  His last comment seemed to be directed at Lia, and had been sweetened with a smile, which seemed to serve as a hopeful cherry on top. Over the last several minutes, Addison had noticed the more Lancaster spoke, the more his eyes wandered to Lia. And given the number of times Lia had swished the same lock of hair behind her ear, not only was she aware of his gawking, she welcomed it.

  “We’re happy to stay as long as you need,” Lia said. “Whatever we can do to help.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Marjorie said. “I don’t want to be here any longer than I need to be. I’d like to get on with it and be on my way.”

  From the window in the hall, Addison watched a truck come to a stop next to Lancaster’s squad car. Lancaster stood next to her, leaning toward the window to get a closer look. “Good. O’Shea is here. Moving on.”

  He checked in on Gene, who looked like someone had stuck a pin in him and let all the air out. “Ladies, if you wouldn’t mind following me to the station, I’d appreciate it. In the meantime, I’ll see what I can do about getting Gene into the car with me.”

  “And if he doesn’t want to go?” Addison asked.

  “It’s obvious you have reservations about my relationship with Gene, so let me be clear. I have known him for a long time, and I can understand why you may believe I’d bend the rules because of it. I won’t. I will treat him fairly, just like I would anyone else. That said—given the length of time I’ve known him compared to the few days you have, I can assure you he’s no killer.”

  “I’d like to believe he isn’t, either, but right now there’s no other explanation as to what happened to Catherine, and while Gene’s story is plausible, there’s nothing to suggest anyone else is responsible.”

  “You’re right. There’s also nothing to suggest one or all of you isn’t responsible, and yet for now, I’ve chosen to believe you’re being honest with me. Give O’Shea some time. See what he comes up with. He’s good. And so am I.”

  “This is a small town,” Addison said.

  “A town not unlike your own.”

  “Exactly. And in small towns, detectives don’t see many cases of murder. Have you ever dealt with a homicide before?”

  “Only one, but I think you’ll find I know what I’m doing.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Statements were taken, and then Lancaster segregated the women, calling Marjorie in first. Next was Addison’s turn. He saved Lia for last, and when the door swung open after they’d finished, she bounced out of the room, flashing Lancaster a hearty grin.

  “We need to discuss accommodations,” Lancaster said.

  “What are you talking about?” Marjorie said.

  “I can’t allow you to stay at the manor, not until I have finished gathering evidence. I’m sorry.”

  The inconvenience was too much for Marjorie to bear. “We haven’t done anything. There’s no reason to punish us by forcing us out of the Ravencroft’s home. It’s not our fault she’s dead.”

  Lancaster raised a brow. “I’m not trying to punish anyone. It’s an active crime scene. These things take time.”

  Marjorie moved a hand to her hip. “How much time?”

  “Depends on what we find. I have two of my men over there now, and when I’m done here, I’ll join them. The sooner I’m finished, the sooner you all can return to your homes.”

  O’Shea bolted into the police station. He looked to be around Addison’s age—mid-thirties, she guessed. He had ginger hair, a trimmed beard, and was heavily freckled. In an
other lifetime, he could have been her brother.

  His eyes darted around the room, coming to rest on Lancaster. “I need to talk to you.”

  “All right.” Lancaster turned toward Addison. “This shouldn’t take too long. You three sit tight.”

  The office door closed, and Addison elbowed Lia in the rib. “So ... Detective Lancaster’s not bad looking, eh?”

  Lia laughed. “Umm, I guess so. Why?”

  “You know why.”

  “I don’t know,” Lia said. “I mean, there’s a spark. We both feel it. But he’s a bit old for me, I think.”

  “Too old?” Marjorie said. “Nonsense. It’s all about intellect and maturity, and he has both. Ask me, older is wiser, and far better than wasting your time on some silly young’un you can’t have a decent conversation with.”

  Although Lancaster’s office had see-through glass walls on two sides, there was a tinted section in the middle prohibiting outsiders from looking in. Squatting down, Addison’s view was limited, but she could see some of what was taking place. “Seems like he’s found something.”

  “O’Shea?” Marjorie asked.

  “Yeah, he just showed something to Lancaster.”

  Moments later, Lancaster opened the door and stuck his head out, calling for a man named Gordon, who popped out of a room nearby.

  “Yeah?” Gordon asked.

  “Find Beck. I’ve tried his cell, and he’s not answering. I need Gene Ravencroft brought to me.”

  “Sure thing,” Gordon said.

  Lancaster tipped his head toward Addison. “I can see you, you know, peering into my office.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re—”

  “Yes, you do. Stop. Got it?”

  Beck rounded the corner with Gene.

  “Everything okay, Aaron?” Gene asked.

  “No, Gene,” Lancaster said. “‘Fraid not. Can you come in here please?”

  “Will I be able to go home today?” Gene asked.

  “I don’t know. Let’s talk first.”

  Gene reached inside his pants pocket, fishing out the keys to the manor. He offered them to Addison. “In case I don’t make it back tonight.”

  “They can’t stay there, Gene,” Lancaster said. “It has to be cleared first.”

  “All right.” Gene pointed at the third key on the ring. “This one is for the guesthouse next to Colin and Whitney’s place. You’re welcome to stay there.”

  “Thank you.”

  She reached for the keys, and Gene’s lips parted like he was about to speak. But then he hesitated.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  He leaned in, the warmth of his breath tingling in her ear as he uttered, “Three eighty Mulberry Road.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Addison did her best to focus on the road, but her mind was elsewhere, thinking about the address Gene had given her at the police station. What was there? Or who? Had Gene known something he hadn’t told anyone yet? And if so, why tell her and not Lancaster?

  If Gene wasn’t responsible for Catherine’s murder, maybe he knew who was. For now the mysterious address would have to remain just that, a mystery, until she could break free from Lancaster’s watchful eye. At present he was in the car in front of her, gazing at her and Gran through the rearview mirror.

  “Would you just look at her,” Marjorie said, pointing to Lia who sat next to Lancaster in his squad car. “She doesn’t seem to mind the difference in their ages now, does she?”

  Addison gazed at the round, oversized sunglasses occupying half the real estate on Marjorie’s face. “She seems to have embraced it. I’m happy for her. She deserves a good guy in her life.”

  “The little hussy can’t stop staring at him, and she’s grinning so wide you could run laps inside that mouth of hers.”

  “She’s not a hussy, Gran.”

  “Oh, I know she’s not. She’s soft and gooey. Sensitive, kind of like you.”

  It almost sounded like a compliment.

  “Well, good for her,” Marjorie continued. “Maybe this is just what she needs.”

  Marjorie put her blinker on.

  “And what do you think she needs, Gran?”

  “A man who can loosen her up a bit, much like Luke did for you. The girl is wound tighter than a Tootsie Roll wrapper.”

  Addison supposed Lia was on the rigid side at times, but she made up for it with a plethora of other notable qualities. She was the most selfless person Addison had ever known—a good friend she could rely on.

  “You were quiet when you got in the car,” Marjorie said. “What’s on your mind?”

  Lots of things.

  “I want to know what O’Shea said to Lancaster. Whatever it was, they seem to be keeping Gene overnight. Did you see the way Lancaster looked at Gene when he saw him in the hallway? It was like he knew what he needed to do, but he didn’t want to do it.”

  “Maybe Gene’s not the sweet man people in this town seem to think he is. Maybe he did kill his wife.”

  Addison was certain Cora was tied to the recent events somehow, that the present was a result of something that had happened in the past. “Let’s say it wasn’t Gene though, and the story he told about hearing someone else in the room is true. The question is—who else could it have been? Colin was with Whitney, and the gardener isn’t working today. There must be someone else, which leads me to believe Gene knows something we don’t. Maybe that’s what he was trying to tell me.”

  “Why wouldn’t he have told us before when he had the chance?”

  “Who knows?” Addison said. “It’s frustrating. I’m supposed to help spirits cross over, not play detective.”

  “Troubled spirits are never easy, I’ve found. Their situations are almost always complicated. That’s why they’re still here.”

  Lancaster made a turn. They were almost back to the manor. Luke would arrive soon. Telling him about the recent developments would put him on edge, but she didn’t have a choice. Once she told him about Catherine, he’d push to take her home, expecting her to forsake Cora, which wasn’t an option. Cora had made contact, and she wasn’t going away until her needs were met.

  “You’re holding out on me, you know,” Marjorie said.

  “In what way?”

  “You never told me what Gene said to you when he handed you the keys.”

  “He gave me an address. I have no idea why, or whether it’s a place in town, or even in this state. Once we can shake Lancaster, I’ll look it up. In the meantime, I need to talk to him.”

  “Gene?”

  “Lancaster,” Addison said.

  “Why?”

  “If his father is close to Gene, I’m guessing he knows the Blackthorn family history. Maybe if I get him talking, he’ll tell me something I don’t already know.”

  “Speaking of Lancaster, he seemed uneasy when Gene whispered that address to you. What did you say when he asked you about it?”

  Addison shrugged. “What makes you think I didn’t tell him the truth?”

  “You’re my granddaughter, and you’re selective. You tend to withhold information unless it benefits you to reveal it. Otherwise, you’re a vault of secrets.”

  Addison preferred the word “cautious” to “selective,” but Marjorie was right. “I told him Gene mumbled, and it was too hard for me to understand what he said. It isn’t a complete lie. Even now I’m not sure I heard him right.”

  “It’s strange that he blurted out the address like he did.”

  “What bugs me is why he said it at all. Why not tell someone else—someone he knows and trusts?”

  “You won’t have an answer until you’re able to check it out for yourself. I’ll tell you one thing though—the guesthouse isn’t big enough for all of us, not once Luke gets back.”

  “It’s just temporary. We need to play nice, for now.”

  Marjorie rolled her eyes. “I’m too old to play nice. Who knows how long they’ll take figuring out what happened. We need to speed thing
s along, do some digging, and for that, we’ll need access to the manor.”

  Marjorie was right.

  Her wedding day had been full of unwelcome surprises.

  She’d do whatever it took.

  Nothing was getting in the way of her honeymoon.

  CHAPTER 26

  Addison and Marjorie followed Lancaster into the estate, parking behind him. Lancaster exited the car, and his phone jingled. He pressed it to his ear, his facial expression shifting from shock to elation. The topic of conversation seemed to be centered on Gene, but Addison couldn’t make out any other details than that.

  Marjorie and Lia headed inside, and Addison lagged behind, hoping this was her chance to speak with Lancaster alone. As if he sensed she was lingering, Lancaster met Addison’s gaze. She decided to busy herself by opening the trunk of Marjorie’s car and shifting items around in an effort to make it appear like there was a reason she remained outside. When she felt she had successfully pulled it off, she pushed the trunk closed, shocked to find Lancaster hovering over her.

  “Find whatever it is you were looking for in there?” he asked.

  “I ... ahh ... yeah.”

  He glanced at her empty hands, grinned, and said, “Really? Because it seems to me you’re out here for a different reason. Care to share why?”

  “I noticed you were on a call and heard you say Gene’s name. I guess I just wondered if everything is all right.”

  “It is,” he replied.

  If she expected more, she’d need to do better. “What I mean to say is, is everything all right with Gene? I assume O’Shea found something.”

  He paused, eyeing her curiously. “You know, for a woman who is only here as a guest, you seem a little too interested in what’s been going on.”

  “Until you know who’s responsible for Catherine’s death and why she was murdered, not only are we all suspects, I question whether we’re safe. And for now, we can’t even leave. If I knew what you knew, maybe I could help in some way.”

  It was a big ask, but he seemed to be considering it.

  “Over the past few days, I had the chance to get to know Catherine,” Addison added. “We had several conversations, and I’d like to think we were becoming friends.”