Tuesday
After Kevin left for his next appointment, Molly called Tony and arranged to meet him in the hospital lobby. As she picked up George’s suitcase, her phone rang. She almost ignored it, but when she recognized the New Orleans area code, she dropped the bag and answered the call.
“Harrington House Bed-and-Breakfast.”
“Molly, it’s Diana Chiasson. I remembered what was bothering me about that night.”
Molly held the phone tight to her ear to catch Diana’s breathless voice. “During the night, I heard a loud thump like someone fell or knocked something over. At first, I thought I had dreamed it. Oh,” she gasped, “if only I hadn’t just rolled over and gone back to sleep.”
“Did you call Detective Shannon?”
“No.” Diana blew out a breath. “Just you.”
“I’m so glad you remembered what happened,” Molly said. “I’ll tell the detective you called, but he might want to talk to you himself.”
“This has been nagging at me, and the more I thought about it, I realized maybe I didn’t dream it after all.”
“What time do you think this was?”
She paused. “I have no idea exactly what time, but I’m sure it was quite late. We didn’t go to sleep until after midnight.”
***
Entering the hospital lobby, Molly’s heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of Tony before he even realized she was there. He sat in an armchair, reading something on his cell phone, a puzzled look on his face. He wore a navy-blue suit and a vibrant red tie—a power suit.
Running his fingers through his short-cropped, dark hair, he glanced up. Catching sight of her, he smiled. A surge of longing washed over Molly as her breath caught in her throat, and for a fleeting moment, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Tony’s intense gaze.
He rose from the chair, and his footsteps echoed through the lobby as he made his way toward her.
“Have you been waiting long?” she asked.
“No, not at all.”
“I got a call, and I need to tell you about it before we go upstairs.”
“Okay.” He waved her toward the chair he’d just vacated and sat in the one next to her.
“Diana Chiasson called me,” Molly said. “And she remembered something.” She relayed everything that Diana had told her. “That noise she heard proves someone else could have been in Aubrey’s room that night after his visitor left around one.”
“Possible. But all it proves is there may have been a clumsy person in the upstairs hall. Mrs. Chiasson admitted that, at first, she thought she’d dreamed it.”
Molly frowned. “You sure know how to put a damper on things.”
“That’s my job.” Tony stood. “Ready to go talk to George?”
In the elevator, she touched Tony’s arm. “Do you want me to leave when you question him?”
“You go in first. Let’s see how he reacts. Let’s just chat for now. I’ll ask you to leave if I think it’s necessary,” Tony said. “Oh, and don’t give him the keys unless I tell you. I may have the rental car company pick it up.”
When Molly entered the room, George sat up straighter in the bed. He was eating green Jell-O, the remnants of his lunch on the hospital tray. His color had improved, and a smile crossed his face when she entered the half-open door, but it quickly faded when Tony appeared behind her.
“Well,” she said. “You’re looking better. I put your car in the parking garage and locked your suitcase and briefcase in the trunk.” She handed him a folded sheet of paper. “Here’s your receipt. I charged your balance to the credit card on file. I also noted the car’s location in the garage.”
He laid the paper next to the lunch tray without looking at it. “Thank you so much for all you’ve done for me…and for Aubrey.”
“You had us worried. I’m glad you’re recovering,” she said. “When will you be discharged?”
“Maybe this afternoon.” George set the gelatin cup on the tray and pushed it aside.
“How are you feeling?” Tony asked.
“Much better.” He picked at a thread on his hospital gown.
“What are your plans?” Tony asked.
“Get a flight home to Chicago and figure out my next steps from there.” His eyes darted between his two visitors. “Molly, I appreciate you bringing my stuff, but Detective, why are you here?”
Tony stepped around Molly. “After going out of her way to help you, she needs a ride home, but I also want to go through your story one more time.”
“Go through what?” George glanced around the room, and his eyes met Molly’s momentarily. “I’ve told you everything.”
Molly stepped forward. “George, would you like me to leave while you talk to the detective?”
George shook his head. “Uh, no. You can stay.”
Tony strode to the foot of the bed. “They found your prints in Aubrey’s room.”
George shrugged. “I admit I was in his room. We had discussions on stuff—client stuff.”
Tony leaned forward, his hands resting on the foot of the bed. “Were you worried about being replaced by a younger and more connected agent?”
George’s eyes widened. A flush began at the neck of his hospital gown and climbed upward. “As you mentioned on Saturday morning—merely a rumor.”
Tony straightened and pointed at him. “Aubrey was going to replace you, wasn’t he?”
“That wasn’t decided yet. I’ve been with him since his debut novel.” Turning his head away, he muttered, “That ungrateful…”
“But now, he was moving up the ladder. I’ve read the reviews. This new book is hot. It’s really taking off. He was headed toward the Grisham or Baldacci realm.” Tony’s voice hardened. “He needed an agent to take him to the next level. And you weren’t cutting it.”
Molly watched him as he continued, amazed that he knew so much about contemporary crime fiction. “And I’m sure Aubrey wasn’t nice about it, either,” she added.
Resigned, George closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “All right. I knew. I’d heard the scuttlebutt. Even asked Tracy about it. She knew, but she danced around the question. Said Aubrey had told her in confidence. It’s all bull.”
Lowering his voice, Tony asked, “Did you confront Aubrey about the new agent?”
George cocked his head toward the window, closed his eyes, and rubbed his face before turning back to Tony. “After the party, we walked up the stairs together, and I said I wanted to talk to him about something, and we needed to do it before the meeting in Cincinnati—the one I mentioned to you the next morning.”
Tony nodded. “I remember. What was Aubrey’s response?”
“He said he had a friend coming in for a nightcap, and it would have to wait. That we could discuss it on the drive to Cincinnati.”
“What did you say?”
George shrugged. “I said okay. What else could I do? There was no reasoning with Aubrey. If I had pressed, he could’ve flown off the handle, and who knows what he would’ve said or done. He could’ve told me to leave that night.” He turned toward Molly. “Aubrey could be unpredictable.”
Molly sat on the chair next to the bed. “Lindsay said she heard noises in the hallway around one. I assumed that was when Aubrey’s visitor left. Another guest reported a thump much later. Did you hear that?”
George took a deep breath.
“What did you hear?” Tony asked.
George bowed his head. “I stayed awake, hoping whomever it was would have a nightcap and then leave. These liaisons happened all the time. Sometimes, the women would stay over. I heard the door open and close around one. Once I was sure the visitor was gone, I slipped across the hall to check if Aubrey was still awake. The door wasn’t locked. It wasn’t even latched. I pushed on it and realized the French doors were open. I-I said, ‘Aubrey, you in here?’ but I didn’t get an answer. So, I went onto the terrace, and there he was on the floor.”
“Did you check for a pulse?” Tony asked.
He looked up, his eyes moist and wide. He raised his palms, crucifix-style. “I think so. Honestly, I don’t know. I was in shock. I don’t know how long I stood there. It started to rain, so I just backed out, and I must have stumbled over the ottoman in the upstairs foyer because the next thing I knew, I was on the floor.”
Tony looked at Molly. “That was probably the thump your guest reported.”
Molly’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God. You just left him there?” Her thoughts raced. Was it George all along? Aubrey’s death is on his hands!
As Tony returned to stand by Molly, he asked, “George, what did you do then?”
“I went back to my room.” George dropped his head into his hands. “The next morning, I pretended I knew nothing about it.”
“Why didn’t you call for an ambulance?” Tony demanded.
“I should have. I know that.” George choked on his words. “When I watched them carry him out in a body bag, I wondered if he had been alive and if I could have saved him. My conscience got the best of me, and I went to the liquor store and…” He swept his hand over his face. “Here I am.”
“Did you touch anything?” Tony asked.
His whole body shook. “No, I don’t think so. I swear he was already down and not breathing when I arrived. Whoever was there before me was the one who did it. I’m sorry,” he sobbed.
“You lied to law enforcement,” Tony said. “Don’t leave town until this gets sorted out. I’ll speak to your doctor about holding you in the hospital, and I’m putting a guard on your room.”
George’s hands shook as he wiped the wetness from his cheeks. “Do I need a lawyer?” His voice was filled with remorse.
Molly sighed. “Yes. Yes, I think you do.”
“Do you believe him?” Molly asked Tony once they were alone in the elevator. “Because I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
Tony shrugged. “Mostly yes. I think Aubrey and his guest must have argued, and whomever it was hit him over the head with the bottle.”
“Mostly?” She gave him a sidelong glance. “What about George?”
He shrugged. “He’s guilty of lying to me. But technically, failing to call for help is not a crime.”
“He just walked away and left Aubrey to die alone in pain.”
“Morally reprehensible, but not a crime.”
“He should be nominated for an Oscar for that performance he put on in Aubrey’s room Saturday morning. I sure believed Aubrey’s death was a surprise to him.”
“Exactly why he did it, I’m sure,” Tony said. “Throw any suspicion away from him.”
“And the last time I was here, he pointed the finger at Lindsay Luttrell.”
The elevator doors opened, and they stepped into the hospital lobby, where the sterile scent of disinfectant mixed with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee from the nearby cart turned her stomach. Suddenly, she felt an urgent need to leave the hospital. George’s confession, Aubrey’s death, and memories of the long days and nights spent there with her mother were overwhelming.
“I guess you want these.” She dropped George’s keys into Tony’s palm and told him where she’d parked the car. “I need to go.”
Tony pocketed the keys. “Do you want me to take you home? We could stop for lunch if you have time.”
Molly shook her head. “Please drop me at Vanessa’s real estate office. I want to know what she discussed with Lauren Driscoll after we left them at the bar last night.”
“Good idea. In the meantime, I’ll visit Mrs. Driscoll at the library. She failed to show up for our appointment this morning. She’s avoiding me, and I intend to find out why.”