Twenty-Four

“I don’t think he killed him,” I said as Brett walked me back to my vehicle. “Why say so much if you knew it would make you a suspect in a man’s death?”

“Because he said exactly what he wanted to say. I don’t trust the guy.” Brett’s steps were heavy, anger echoing through with each one.

“I don’t trust him either. Yet, I still don’t think he killed Samuel.”

“Why not?”

“Because he had a chance to really hurt me and didn’t.”

Brett froze and gaped at me. “Are you serious? That’s it. That’s your reasoning? He didn’t kill you, so he didn’t kill Samuel.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

Brett flushed. “Merry—”

I held up my hand, silencing him. “You are. If Milton was trying to get away with murder, why have me around to tell people what he did? Why reveal what he did to the police? He felt heartsick when he told me that he thought he orchestrated Samuel’s death by telling people about the money. Samuel wouldn’t be the first lottery winner murdered right after, or before, he received his winnings. I bet Samuel hadn’t signed the ticket yet. He’d want to make sure that we were divorced first, or I might have been entitled to some of the money.”

Brett nodded. “That’s what I figured. It’s the only reason your ex-husband would want to back date the divorce. Where’s the ticket?”

I shrugged. “That’s the twelve-million-dollar question.”

We continued to my car and as it came into view, it was my turn to abruptly stop. The passenger door of my SUV was wide open. Papers fluttered by me. I stomped on one then picked it up. My insurance card. I bet my registration was also loose. I moved toward my car.

Brett snagged my arm. “Hold up.”

He was right. Proceed with caution. There was a missing lottery ticket, and this was the second vehicle I owned that was vandalized. I was regretting not telling the police about the intruder leaving my house this morning. What if I was wrong and it wasn’t Cassie camping out in my attic? Or even if it was, had I made the correct choice in protecting her? The intruder in my house, the vandalism of the RV, could have helped proved my innocence. Brett’s earlier words flickered in my head: You tend to allow your emotions to rule over common sense and self-preservation. He was right.

Brett pulled out his cell and called the police. The police department was within eye sight and no one there had noticed someone tossing everything out of my vehicle. Of course, the police had been busy with saving me from Milton.

I drew in a sharp breath. Milton had slipped out of the office to trash my car or his confession was a way to tie up the police. The guy was nothing but a conniving liar and likely a murderer. “He did this.”

He pocketed his phone. “The police are on the way.”

“This is the reason for Milton’s confession. He stalled us long enough for someone to search my car for the ticket. With Samuel dead and almost buried, the other most likely candidate to have the ticket was the person the police zeroed in on as the murderer. Me.” I pointed toward the police station. “He knows where the police station is located. They’d notice someone searching my car. Best way to get away with it was to have the officers somewhere else. Like his office.”

Brett frowned. “You’re in danger. Whoever is looking for the ticket doesn’t know you don’t that have it. Eventually, they’ll lose their patience and demand it. What will stop them from harming you?”

“I have to agree with your attorney.” Detective Grayson joined us, snapping on a pair of gloves. “The murderer believes you have the ticket.”

“At least you don’t think I’m the murderer anymore.”

“You made a good suspect.” Grayson picked up an item from the ground and deposited it into a bag.

I ignored the comment. “Whoever it is has to know I don’t have it now. They ransacked the RV, my vehicle, and I think my garage.” I ticked off on my fingers all the times I noticed things were out of place. “I might be forgetting one.”

Both men stared at me.

“Has anyone approached you about the ticket?” Grayson asked.

“Cassie. She said she left an event ticket in the RV. I think she meant the lottery ticket. Samuel would’ve told his daughter he won. I also hinted to her that I found a ticket.”

“Why?” Brett practically screamed at me.

“Because I wanted her to look at the photo albums and tell me who was missing. She was ignoring my calls. The only thing she was interested in was the ticket. I used it.”

“When were you meeting her?” Grayson asked.

I glanced at the phone. “An hour ago. She was going to come over. I stood her up.” Yet, there were no messages from her. “She must’ve looked herself. I bet she was the person who jumped over my fence.”

“Do you think she kill—”

My eyes widened. “No. She wouldn’t have killed her father. She loved him. He was her only parent.”

“Birth mom is not in the picture?” Grayson asked.

“She hasn’t seen Cassie since she was a baby. Samuel never talked much about her. Just that she had wanted a baby but realized after a few months she didn’t want to be a mother and left. He married again a few years later and divorced. Married again. Let’s just say that happened a couple of times. I think Samuel was looking for a mother for his daughter rather than a wife for himself, so the marriages never lasted long.”

“Is there anyone else you can think of that has talked to you about the ticket? The lottery? Anything suspicious at all?” Grayson asked.

“No.” I stopped talking as memories weaved in and out of my mind. Oh my God! No. It couldn’t be. With shaking hands, I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and brought up my designing app. Think of it like a decal. Add each piece in the main component and check if it layers together. The name on the picture floated into my head.

“Merry, what are—”

I held up my hand. I needed silence, no extra words in my head. I wrote lottery in a large box and start piling in all the instances of vandalism. Comments I remembered. Long time to get RV. Checking the underneath storage compartment. Told me to check Samuel’s Facebook. Tears cascaded down my cheeks. No. Not my friend. Not my Grace. My heart shattered.

Samuel had talked to Grace, but not about wanting to rent a booth. It was about Milton. The man who left her because their son understood the world differently than others.

“Merry, what’s wrong?”

“I know who’s been looking for the ticket. Grace Turner.”

Brett sucked in a breath. “Abraham’s mom. My other client.”

Grayson sent a sharp look in Brett’s direction before settling a sympathetic one on me. “The woman’s son was with you when you discovered Samuel’s body.”

I nodded, tears clogging my breath.

“Her son was the one I talked with Saturday. He mentioned you wanted him to help you move stuff out of the RV,” Grayson said.

“Yes, the trees.”

The trees. Abraham had to have the tree with the bit of red on the top. Abraham was frantic for that tree. Had Grace asked her son to get it for her? Was she afraid it could implicate her in Samuel’s murder? What if she came to Season’s Greetings to have it out with Milton and he told her about the lottery ticket. That amount of money would ensure her that Abraham would have the proper care he needed when she died. Her son, the light of her life, would be taken care of. It was her one worry about life, or rather death.

“Do you think she might have killed Samuel Waters?” Grayson’s gentle voice broke me.

“I don’t know.” I covered my face with my hands and wept.