“Now, beyond that stand of rhododendron, you make two quick rights, and be prepared to climb,” Dallas concluded the directions that had brought them east of town.
They stopped in a parking area softened by lush plantings that directed Maggie’s eyes to a log building set farther uphill, flanked by trees swelling with buds amid a scattering of evergreens.
It was a skillful blend of old and new. The log construction, a massive stone chimney, wide front porch overhung by a shake roof gave the impression of a cabin that had been there for centuries. Skylights in the roof, the pristine condition, and a discreet sign promising “Luxury Mountain Homes” assured modern amenities would be attended to.
One step inside the double doors, and Maggie caught her breath.
The back of the building was mostly glass and two stories high, with a view of a gorge, opening to a meadow with roll upon roll of rounded mountain tops beyond. A loft lined the room, with offices on either side of a central sitting area.
“May I help you?” a fresh-faced girl asked from a reception desk.
“We’re here to see Renee,” Dallas said, leaving it open to interpretation whether they had an appointment.
“She’s in a meeting. If I could let her know you’re here…?”
“That would be fine. Tell her Dallas Herbert Monroe is here for a little word, along with two colleagues.”
The girl led them to the seating area in front of the stone fireplace. Carson snagged the chair with the best view of the room. Maggie settled for second-best, the chair at the other end of the coffee table. Dallas sank into the deep couch, leafing through a magazine.
Maggie’s phone picked up a signal to her surprise. Each time she looked up from checking email and messages, Carson was surveying the surroundings.
He stood as a woman somewhere between thirty and sixty approached. She gave an impression of softness — rounded figure, loose hair to her shoulders, easy slacks and tunic — except her eyes. They were shrewd and intelligent.
She smiled at Carson, gave Maggie a cordial nod, then rested a hand on Dallas’ shoulder.
“It’s been forever since you came to visit me. I don’t believe you’ve ever been here to our new office.”
“It’s my loss, Renee. Missing seeing this magnificent facility and even more missing seeing you.”
“My, you are a flatterer. Is that why you’ve come today? To end the missing of me?” It carried a hint of an edge.
“Of course,” he said promptly. “And, perhaps, to call on your expertise in a matter or two.”
“Now if I thought you were ready to make use of my expertise, to sell Monroe House, and move to one of our modern, convenient homes, I’d be beside myself. But if I can help you in any way, you know I am most willing. I tell you what, let’s sit on the porch a bit. It’s sunny for now, and I can indulge my vice.”
Renee Tagner led the way without waiting for a response.
At the end of the porch, she gestured them to a pair of settees at right angles, extracting a cigarette and lighter from a pocket.
With a vague phrase about the investigation, Dallas introduced Maggie, then gave her a nod, inviting her to start the questions.
She waited until Renee Tagner exhaled smoke and looked at her.
“Tell me about Eugene.”
“Hah. How long’ve you got? I’ve known him since he was twenty-seven and I was twenty. Started off as his secretary and receptionist when he was breaking into insurance. Man can’t organize a paper bag. I ran the office. Got my real estate license when we got offered a deal on some land. Developed and sold that parcel off, and that was the start of this.”
Her gesture took in the building and grounds.
“Impressive. Business must be good?”
“Could always be better.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not here to talk about my business. You want to know if Eugene would have killed Laurel. I’ll tell you — no. And it’s not because I’ve got the notion somebody I’ve known so long and so well isn’t capable of murder. Bull. Most everybody’s capable of it, if pushed.”
Renee tapped cigarette ash over the railing.
“And for some a touch’d be as good as a push. Sure would be interesting to know how Barry up at Shenny’s comes to have a fancy new truck from Wade Motors each of the past four years. Doranna, bless her heart, proves a woman can be as big a fool as a man, but she doesn’t have that sort of money to give him.”
Interesting. On many levels, including Doranna and Barry. As well as Renee mentioning Barry. Could she know they’d just talked to him?
In this county? Hell, yes.
“But that’s not what you came to talk to me about, either, now is it? Let me tell you about Eugene. He married his first wife because he was young and stupid and thought that was the only way to get sex from her. He married me because he wasn’t quite so young or so stupid, and he knew I was good for him. Plus—” Lines of humor fanned at the corners of her eyes. “—it sure as hell was the only way he’d get sex from me.”
The lines at the corners of her eyes shifted, joined by lines around her mouth. Faint remnants of pain, long mastered. “He divorced me and married Cissy because he was still stupid enough to think it was the only way to get sex from her. Why the fool didn’t set the tart up as a mistress is beyond me. I would’ve had to work like a demon to make it reasonable that I didn’t know, but it wouldn’t have lasted long, and the long-term payoff would’ve made the short-term inconvenience worth it. Sorry if I’ve shocked you, Ms. Frye.”
“Not at all.”
The lines of humor returned. “I figure love and all’s like business — you gotta look at your ROI — return on investment. Once you put it in those terms you avoid mistakes from silly things like hurt feelings, pride, and such.”
Eminently sensible, Maggie almost said aloud.
“But Eugene was a fool, and once he asked for the divorce, my hands were tied.”
“You did get control of the business,” Dallas murmured.
“Of course. He would’ve run it into the ground in a year, eighteen months. And I would’ve had to start all over. My God, he was talking about tearing this place down and building a personal architectural statement. No concept at all of what city folks come to the mountains for. So, I set it up that he and the tart had enough money to live in his architectural statement, where it wouldn’t hurt my bottom line while offending the fewest eyes possible.”
She grimaced. “Got to admit I never thought they’d get that far. Eugene’d been nursing pretensions about modern architecture as long as I knew him. But he and the tart never would’ve gotten around to building that boil if she hadn’t found a picture in a magazine.”
“How did you get the business, Renee?” Carson asked. “I’ve wondered.”
She grinned at him, and Maggie realized the older woman had a deep reservoir of charm she hadn’t bothered to tap in this interview. Yet.
“I got myself a nice, young lawyer — a lot like you, J.D., not as handsome, but otherwise a whole lot like you — and I molded him. Give the boy credit, not only was he smart enough to let me, but he learned real fast. He’s got himself a real nice practice now.” She chuckled. “In fact, he’s done real well out of Eugene. Laurel, naturally, went another direction. Henry Zales isn’t a bad choice. But he’s a sight too conventional for my taste. Not to say he wouldn’t have gotten Laurel more’n she deserved. Course I set it up to keep their hands off the business. Her and Cissy and even Eugene. But they did have their hands deep in his pockets.”
More ash went over the railing. “So, back to what I was saying. Eugene was gettin’ tired of the tart, when along comes Miss Laurel Blankenship, displaying her wares. No more subtle than the tart, but Eugene had learned a thing or two. Tried to get her into bed without marriage, but Laurel held out. ’Bout the only time she did from what I hear,” she added without heat. “The girl knew what she wanted and how to get it. In that way, she reminded me of myself. Maybe not as smart—”
“And without the ethics,” Carson said.
“Why, thank you, J.D.” Renee smiled at him from under her lashes. “How sweet.”
“I do hate to rush you, Renee,” Dallas said. “Maybe it’s my poor old brain, but how’s this building up to your certainty that Eugene didn’t kill Laurel?”
Maybe his poor old brain, her ass, Maggie thought. He wanted to divert attention from Carson’s indictment of Laurel as being devoid of ethics.
If they’d been having an affair and he’d been disillusioned…
“Because it doesn’t fit Eugene’s pattern. Sorry, Dallas. Sorry, J.D., but Ms. Frye here and I know men follow a pattern in affairs of the heart. More’n likely it starts with their mamas like those old Greek plays say. But whatever it is, unless they’re smart enough to heed a strong woman, they keep repeatin’ it. That’s Eugene. What does he do when he decides he wants a woman? He marries her. If he’s already married, he divorces the previous one. Killing? That’s not Eugene’s pattern.”
“But Eugene wasn’t going to divorce Laurel. They’d reconciled,” Maggie said. “And this time he didn’t have another woman he wanted to marry.”
With bland certainty, Renee said, “Yes, he did. He does.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
A long beat of silence was broken by Dallas’ amused and impressed hoot. “Renee, you are a one. Yes, you are.”
Maggie frowned at him. Had he known all along?
She leaned toward Renee. “You’re saying Eugene was going to divorce Laurel?”
“Yep.”
“But Eugene told us they were reconciling.”
Renee sighed. “Yes, he did. Told you and the sheriff. Poor baby. I’d instructed him early on to let everyone believe that. When Laurel got murdered, he froze up and did exactly what I’d told him, and wouldn’t you know I was in Atlanta, and he was so worried about ya’ll tracing calls, he didn’t even call me. My assistant told me about the murder, and I cut my trip short, but it wasn’t ’til I got back Tuesday night I heard what all had been happenin’ and what Eugene told you.”
“You maintain they weren’t reconciling?” Maggie said.
“Oh, no, they were reconciling. Temporarily. It was what you might call a strategic move. See, early on, and under the influence of the tax accountant cousin of one of his poker buddies — no longer Eugene’s accountant, I can guarantee you — my poor baby had Laurel sign some papers, thinking he was smart to not have his name on them. They were reconciling long enough to get that squared away, and then there’d be a permanent break.”
“You approved of that?”
“Honey, like I said, it’s all a matter of long-term payoff versus short-term inconvenience.” A slight tuck appeared between her brows. “Course, I wasn’t counting on Laurel getting murdered. Now, I’ll be taking Eugene to that new sheriff and explaining it all. Dallas, I do hope you’ll vouch for me and how Eugene is, since Sheriff Gardner doesn’t hardly know us more’n to say hello.”
“I would be happy to give you a character reference, and to describe Eugene as the fool he is, if Sheriff Gardner’s willing to hear it,” he said.
“Can’t ask better. Thank you kindly, Dallas.”
Maggie interrupted the Virginia courtesy fest. “But you, Renee, you’re not part of Eugene’s pattern as you described it.”
“Recall what I said about how heeding a strong woman could break the pattern. Eugene finally got his brain around knowin’ I’m the exception to his pattern. Because there’s more than sex. He can talk to me. He can trust me. And he can relax. That’s why he keeps coming back to me, one way or another.”