Chapter 9
Dear Sophie,
Our deck is way too close to our neighbors. We’d like a little privacy, but we’re not allowed to put up a fence screen. My husband says he’s not sitting on a fussy deck with curtains. Any suggestions?
In Broad Sight in Deckerville, Michigan
Dear In Broad Sight,
Buy three tall wooden shutters and paint them a color that you like. Attach them securely to the railing. They can be right next to one another or a few inches apart. Hang a lantern or a wreath from each one. Voilà. A screen but not a screen.
Sophie
Paisley gasped. Her eyes large, she asked, “How could you know? Is that what the police think? Are they arresting him as we speak? I have to go home to the children!”
“Relax. It was simple deduction on my part.”
“You’re sure? I couldn’t bear for them to take my children.”
“I don’t think that would happen.” Unless, of course, both parents were involved.
I noticed that she didn’t have a problem with the police arresting her husband. “I honestly don’t have a clue what information the police might have. Would you like me to let Wolf know?”
“No! No, please don’t do that. It’s why I came to you. I need to know. It, um, could also have been my brother, Bennett. He was always hitting up Mom for money. And he flipped when he found out about the spendthrift trust. She wasn’t super wealthy, but she was comfortable, and the house is worth quite a bit. When Frank and Bennett began to bring out her belongings yesterday, I tried to stop them. I spent the better part of the day crying. I can’t tell you what a relief it was when Wolf came and told them to take everything back inside. He even called a young cop to make sure they didn’t touch anything and that the house was locked up and the crime scene tape was replaced.”
She stared into her coffee cup. “I don’t understand. How could they do that to Mom? How could they take her life, the things she loved, and just sell them to strangers? They had no consideration for me at all. I would love to have her china and crystal. The boys don’t appreciate them now, of course. I consider it a good day if no one spills milk or spits up on the table. But one day, when they bring their girlfriends home, they’ll be proud of their mom for having lovely table settings at the holidays, just like my mom did. I don’t want to sell her things. I want to keep them to remember her by. Her house isn’t huge, only three bedrooms, but I’ve figured out how we could make that work. It’s paid off, so if we moved in, we could save a ton of money by not having to pay rent or a mortgage. But Frank and Bennett want to empty the house and sell it. It breaks my heart. There’s no reasoning with them.”
“Perhaps your mother anticipated that,” I suggested gently.
She looked at me blankly at first. “Oh! I see what you mean. She expected them to run roughshod over me? We had no idea that she put everything in trust, which has angered both of them no end.”
“That could be why she didn’t mention it. And it sounds as if she might have done it as a favor to you.”
“So there wouldn’t be a squabble, you mean?”
“I think the trust probably prevents your husband and Bennett from frittering away her estate. Someone else is managing it, so the two of them won’t benefit from arguing with you about money. Maybe she saw what was happening in your marriage.”
“Or it could have been because of Bennett.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“He calls himself a professional gambler. He even has business cards with pictures of chips on them. But professional loser would be more accurate. He travels to casinos all over the country. He tells me he checks to see where big conventions are being held, then he poses as an attendee so as not to draw the attention of the casino when he’s card counting. My mother hoped he would mature out of it. She thought he was a mathematical genius to figure out all those formulas and remember which cards had been played. She was always after him to use those skills in a better way. Sadly, I think he’s addicted and can’t give it up.”
I hadn’t realized that Lark had these kinds of problems in her family, though I suspected most of us didn’t really know what went on behind closed doors, even in the lives of people we saw every day. My heart went out to Paisley. She hadn’t inherited immediate money but when her mother died, she had inherited all the family problems. And now she worried that one of the men in her family, her husband or her brother, had murdered her mother in the belief that his money troubles would be solved.
“I . . . I can’t pay you,” said Paisley.
“I’m not a professional investigator. I’ve just been lucky a few times,” I said.
“Sophie, I’m terrified.”
“For your own safety?” I asked.
“A little bit, although I have no power over Mom’s money, so even if one of them knocked me off, it wouldn’t do him any good.”
Wouldn’t it? I wondered. If Paisley died, what would happen to her half of the estate? Would it go to her husband? Skip him and go to the children? Or did the trust provide for it to go to her brother? “Who gets your share if you die?” I asked.
“Frank, I would think.” She buried her face in her hands and her breath came hard. “I don’t know. I can’t stand to even imagine what might happen to my children if I were to . . . not be there for them.”
“Maybe you should ask your lawyer who inherits if you should die. What is it you want me to do?”
“Find out who murdered Mom. I have to know if it was one of them. I have to protect my boys.”
“Paisley, if you truly believe that Frank might harm you or the children, then you need to tell the police and move out.” I tried not to sound harsh, but she had to face that fact.
“I hope it doesn’t come to that. I feel so guilty. How can I think for even a minute that my husband, the man I love, could have killed my mom? I’m so conflicted!”
There might be an easy way to know. She was probably his alibi. “Lark was murdered early in the morning. Where was Frank?”
Paisley gazed at me in horror. “He should have been asleep next to me, but I couldn’t swear to that. I was asleep!”
“Are you a light sleeper? Would you have noticed if he slipped out and wasn’t there?” I asked.
“I’m so tired every night. I make dinner, clean up, give all the kids their baths. Read them books, tuck them in, and then, even though I’m exhausted, I lie there awake unable to drift off, so I’ve been taking sleeping pills. I figure Frank would hear if one of the kids needed something.”
“So you can’t actually give him an alibi?”
“No. I honestly can’t.”
“Does Wolf know that?”
She froze. “No. And I don’t want him to know.”
“Paisley, you have to be honest with Wolf,” I cautioned.
“But I don’t know anything. I know it sounds like I hate Frank, but I don’t. Quite the contrary. I love the guy! I’ve never met anyone like him. He’s knowledgeable about so many things. He’s brilliant and fascinating and he loves me more than I deserve.”
And yet, she thought he could have murdered her mom. I supposed that being brilliant and fascinating didn’t exclude also being ruthless, cruel, and immoral. Jails were probably full of brilliant and fascinating criminals. But I didn’t see the point in mentioning that to her. She already knew it, or she wouldn’t have paid me this visit.
“I’ll see what I can find out. But you must promise me that you will take the boys and leave at the first sign of danger.” It fell on deaf ears and it was too late anyway. I feared that the first signs had already played out.
Paisley thanked me profusely and left through my living room door. I watched as she walked through the backyard to the gate and closed it carefully behind her.
At times like these, it would have been nice to pick up the phone and call Alex German for legal information. Since I had broken off our relationship, that wasn’t an option. I went into my little home office and did some research online.
Much as I had thought, a spendthrift trust was to prevent someone from squandering an inheritance. Lark would have chosen a person or a bank to be the trustee, who would have the power to decide when and how much money would be parceled out to the beneficiaries.
Muppet and Daisy approached my desk, tails wagging. “You are a very good watchdog,” I said to Muppet.
She wasn’t much bigger than a cat. A white floof-ball with bright eyes that didn’t miss a thing.
“I assume all this attention means it’s time for a walk?” I raced upstairs and pulled on comfortable jeans and an oversized sweater. I flicked my hair back into a ponytail.
As far as I could tell, Nina and Mars still slept. I helped the dogs into harnesses, locked the front door behind us, and we strolled along the sidewalk. Daisy and Muppet wagged their tails and sniffed as though wonderful scents had been left there for them to find.
People in business attire hustled on their way to work. The sun was just coming up and I caught a few people stepping out of their front doors in bathrobes to pick up the morning papers that had been delivered.
No one lingered around the DIY tents. We had hired security guards to keep an eye on them, but I didn’t see anyone, which troubled me.
Daisy, however, saw Mrs. McElhaney watering the flowers in a planter in front of her house, and pulled me in that direction.
“Good morning!” she sang. Curly white hair fluffed on her head. She had to be eighty or very close to it. She stuck her hand into a deep pocket on her gray sweater. “Who is your friend, Daisy?” She produced two treats and handed them to the dogs. No wonder Daisy had pulled me over to her.
“That’s Muppet. She’s up for adoption.”
“Oh my,” she cooed to Muppet. “If I were five years younger, I’d have snapped you up!”
“She’s a great watchdog,” I said, hoping she might change her mind.
Mrs. McElhaney scowled. “My children have called repeatedly to inform me that assisted living is like living on a cruise ship. Do you believe that?” Her violet eyes watched me carefully.
“Maybe a little bit,” I said.
“Bah! You must think me as stupid as they do. I’m fine here in my home and that’s where I intend to stay. Though I must say that Lark didn’t help matters by going and getting herself killed. It was all over the newspaper and my children soon found out that Lark lived right across the street from me. I haven’t heard the end of that yet.”
“Why do you say she ‘got herself killed?’” I asked.
“She had a gentleman friend. I saw him leaving the house that morning.”
My breath caught in my throat. She was an eyewitness! “Did you tell the police?”
“I phoned them immediately. They had me come down to the station and look through photographs.” She shook her head. “He wasn’t in any of them. It was as though they didn’t listen to me. He wasn’t any ordinary thief or burglar. He was always well dressed and very polite.”
“You spoke to him?” I gaped at her.
“On a regular basis. He always said, Good morning. He had exquisite manners. I never imagined that he would murder Lark.”
“Who is he?”
“I never asked his name. He left her home most discreetly. I don’t suppose many other people noticed him. But I did. I might be an old gal, but I see things and have my wits about me.”
“What did he look like?” I asked.
“Very distinctive. I can show you a sketch if you’d like.”