James eased himself into a rocking chair and took a deep sip of gin and tonic.
“Better?” Jonathan asked.
James took another sip and tipped his head back. “Some.”
“I’m sure the Traylors were delighted to see you,” Jonathan said. “And they didn’t really have anything to confess, did they?”
“No,” James admitted. “Grady has had a stroke and can’t speak. And Juanita, poor old soul, the only thing she could confess was an occasional bout of impatience with the doctors.”
“You gave comfort to the afflicted,” Jonathan said. “Isn’t that what the Bible tells us all to do?”
“It doesn’t tell us to masquerade as priests while we’re doing it,” James said ruefully.
“You didn’t wear your collar or your robe and cassock,” Jon pointed out.
“Still,” James said, “I deliberately went out there on false pretenses.”
“And found out what?” Jon asked.
“Gerry Blankenship hoodwinked them into witnessing that will,” James said. “I took some meaningless court documents out and showed them to Juanita, acting like it was the will she’d signed. She looked right at them and smiled and nodded that they were the papers they’d signed. She’s nearly blind from her diabetes, Jonathan. She can’t read a newspaper, and she only finds her way around the house by feel. Grady, of course, is basically a vegetable, and has been for some time now.”
“And that’s why Blankenship stashed them out in the middle of nowhere in Guyton,” Jonathan said.
“The house belongs to the Willis J. Mullinax Foundation,” James said. “He told them it belonged to Miss Anna Ruby and that they would be doing him a favor if they moved in and looked after it. Poor old things, they’re delighted with the place. A brick house, with air-conditioning and a tiled bath—to Juanita, it’s a palace. He told them to keep quiet about everything, and of course, Juanita feels beholden to dear Mr. Gerry.”
“Dear Mr. Gerry,” Jonathan said, “certainly gets around.”
“And gets rich doing it, I imagine,” James said.
“Maybe not,” Jonathan said. “I’ve had my ear to the ground lately. Gerry’s in debt up to his comb-over.”
“Really?”
“This will be news to you, but it costs money to keep up appearances in this town, James. The club memberships, the big house downtown, the donations to the right charities; none of that is cheap. And Gerry likes to do things in a big way, make a big splash. But appearances can only get you so far. Blankenship’s billings have been pathetic. He’s even started doing divorce work.”
James winced, thinking of Inky and Denise Cahoon. Maybe he should have referred Denise to Gerry Blankenship.
“This Coastal Paper Products deal could be his salvation,” Jonathan went on. “Putting Phipps Mayhew together with Anna Ruby Mullinax was a stroke of genius. Blankenship makes money on both ends of the deal; representing the estate and Coastal Paper Products.”
“Can he do that? Ethically, I mean?”
“Who’s going to stop him?” Jonathan asked. “Anna Ruby Mullinax left no heirs. All the money goes to a foundation that Blankenship controls.”
“He’ll have to file some kind of papers to keep his nonprofit status,” James pointed out.
“Gerry’s no dummy,” Jonathan said. “You watch. The paperwork will make it look like he’s handing out money faster than the Rockefellers.”
“How much money are we talking about here?” James asked.
“No telling. The property at Beaulieu sold for two point five million. That we know. But we don’t know how much Blankenship is making handling Coastal’s permitting work. That alone is worth hundreds of thousands.”
James rocked back and forth, letting it all sink in.
“A very sweet deal, for nearly everyone involved,” he said. “Except Caroline DeSantos, who got killed. And Weezie, who nearly got arrested for it. You know Blankenship, Jonathan. Is he capable of murder?”
“He’s capable of a lot,” Jon said. “This whole scheme of his, rigging Anna Ruby’s will—if he did—shows that.”
“We can’t prove he rigged the will,” James said. “Maybe Anna Ruby did agree to sell Beaulieu to Coastal Paper Products. And maybe Blankenship really does intend to provide vocational training for community youths.”
“And maybe pigs can fly,” Jonathan retorted. “Blankenship is mixed up in something criminal, that’s definite. I just can’t figure out what his motive might have been for killing Caroline DeSantos.”
“Lover’s quarrel?” James asked.
Jonathan sat forward in his rocking chair and smiled. “I think not.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The gossip around town was that Caroline was seeing somebody on the side. And of course, since she was working so closely with Blankenship on the paper plant project, that started the gossip.”
“We know she had a boyfriend who was considering buying her a house,” James said.
“Not Blankenship,” Jonathan said. “He’s not on that team.”
“How do you mean?” James asked.
“I told you Gerry is good at keeping up appearances,” Jonathan said.
“And that includes his private life, which he likes to keep very, very private.”
“He’s gay?”
“As a goose,” Jon said.
“And you know this how?”
“I’m a criminal attorney. People tell me things. Gerry Blankenship has been living a double life for years. He was married, briefly, years ago, for appearance’ sake. No children, and the divorce was very amicable. The former Mrs. Blankenship took her settlement and moved to Florida. And Gerry has, since then, had a series of very discreet, very young, boyfriends.”
“You’re sure of all this?”
“Positive,” Jonathan said. “Gerry wasn’t even in town the night Caroline was killed. He was in Charleston, at a coming-out party.” He winked subtly at James. “A coming-out-of-the-closet party, that is.”
“Oh. That lets Blankenship off the hook, for the murder, anyway. Who else could have done it?” James asked.
“How well do you know Talmadge Evans?”
“That’s absurd,” James said. “He was in love with the girl.”
“What if he found out she was cheating on him?”
“He did find out,” James said slowly. “He told Weezie the other night that he knew Caroline was seeing another man.”
“And how did he feel about it?”
“Betrayed, I suppose. He’s been trying to persuade Weezie to reconcile with him. Sending her flowers, leaving messages on her machine. He showed up drunk at her door one night and made a big scene, begging Weezie to take him back.”
“Do the police consider Tal a suspect in Caroline’s murder?”
“Detective Bradley questioned Tal,” Jonathan said. “I read his report on the interview. Tal claimed he was working late at the office that night. Everyone in the firm was working a lot of overtime on the plans for the new paper plant. Tal told Bradley that Caroline left earlier in the evening, for a business meeting.”
“He never called the police to report her missing?”
“No. He told Bradley he was too embarrassed. He had an inkling she was lying about where she was going, but didn’t feel ready to force the issue. And of course, the next morning, he got the call that she’d been found. Dead. At Beaulieu.”
“Found by Weezie,” James said. “Here’s another thought. What about Phipps Mayhew? He was working closely with Caroline on the design of the paper plant. He’s rich. And married. I met his wife at the memorial service for Anna Ruby. She seems to think Southerners are slightly demented when it comes to their determination to save crummy old plantation houses.”
“I’m sure the police questioned Mayhew,” Jonathan said. “But I don’t remember reading anything in the file on what he may have told them.”
“Maybe you should go back and take a look,” James suggested.
“I’ll do that.”