Death in a Major (10 page)

“Uncle Kevin,” Jordan started. He had no chance to say more.

“Are you trying to get me in trouble with the police?”

The man I now knew to be Kevin Major advanced toward me, aggression radiating off his stocky body.

I jumped to my feet and stepped to the side, keeping the chesterfield between us as my heart beat like a racing metronome. “I'm not trying to do anything.”

“Like hell you aren't!” He took another step toward the chesterfield. “I heard what you said. You're trying to pin the old man's murder on me.” His hands clenched into fists. “But you know what? There's no way that's going to happen. No way in hell.”

My breath caught in my throat. Kevin seemed to find my fear amusing, or at least pleasing.

He sneered at me and narrowed his eyes.

The next second, he lunged at me.

 

Chapter Ten

I
DODGED AROUN
D
the side of the chesterfield, barely staying out of Kevin's grasp.

“Leave her alone!” Jordan yelled, but Kevin only made another grab for me.

As I evaded his grasp once more, Jordan jumped between us. That, unfortunately, didn't deter his uncle. He snatched a small but sturdy statuette off an end table and drew his arm back before letting the piece of artwork fly. The statuette clipped Jordan on the shoulder.

I was ready to make a run for it, or maybe scream for Salnikova's help, because things were seriously out of hand. The commotion must have carried down the hallway because Salnikova appeared without any request from me, both uniformed officers at her side.

“What's going on in here?” the detective asked, her eyes going straight to Kevin, who held another statuette raised up in his hand, ready to take aim at me again.

His beady eyes took in the sight of the police and his nostrils flared. He let out an angry snarl and made a dash for the French doors, dropping the statuette as he ran.

“Hey!” Salnikova yelled after him.

She gestured at the uniformed officers and they both took off after Kevin. He disappeared into the darkness beyond the reach of the floodlights, and Salnikova followed as far as the patio. She pulled out her cell phone and spoke to someone in a low voice.

I wrapped my arms around myself, realizing only then that a slight shakiness had taken over my body.

“Are you all right?” I asked Jordan as he rubbed his shoulder.

“I'm fine.” He gave his shoulder one last rub and dropped his hand. “Sorry about that. He's got a psycho temper. Can't you picture him killing someone?”

“Yes, I guess I can.” What I didn't mention was that while I could picture Kevin Major using physical violence to harm or kill someone, I wasn't sure I could picture him using a more subtle method like poisoning.

I moved closer to the French doors as Salnikova ended her call and the two uniformed officers returned to the patio, out of breath and without Kevin.

“Sorry, Detective,” the older of the two officers said as he huffed and puffed. “He vaulted over the fence and we lost him in the alley.”

Salnikova stepped back in the house. “What was that all about?” She directed the question at both me and Jordan.

My student beat me to answering. “He overheard us talking about how he killed my grandfather and went all psycho. Like he does.”

That wasn't entirely accurate, but correcting Jordan would only upset him, which I didn't want to do. Besides, I figured it was close enough to the truth for the moment.

“You two go back to the study,” Salnikova directed the officers. As they headed off down the hall, she returned her attention to me and Jordan. “Is Marjorie Alberts in her suite?” she asked my student.

“Not right now,” Jordan replied. “She's gone out to see a play or something.”

“What about your mom? Will she be home soon?”

“She said she'd be home by eleven. And my aunt just arrived in town. She's on her way from the airport.”

Salnikova nodded, apparently satisfied that he would have family with him before long. While Jordan was old enough to be on his own for a while, I too was relieved to know he wouldn't be alone. Especially since I'd scared off an intruder earlier that evening. I couldn't imagine Dr. Beaufort acting violently toward anyone, but before that night I also wouldn't have been able to picture him breaking into someone's house and rifling through their belongings. More concerning than Beaufort's intrusion, however, was Kevin Major's aggressive behavior. I didn't think I could count on him not taking out his anger on his nephew, and that left me more than a little worried.

“What about your uncle?” I asked Jordan. “If he comes back . . .”

“If he comes back,” Salnikova interjected, “call 911 immediately.”

Jordan didn't seem to share our level of concern. “I'll lock all the doors and arm the security system. I'll be fine.”

I sure hoped that would be the case.

“We'll be another minute or two in the study and then we'll be on our way,” the detective said.

She set off toward the front of the house, leaving me and Jordan alone. He locked the French doors and hit a button on a small remote control set on an end table. Blinds automatically lowered over the doors and all the windows.

“It's quite late now,” I said. “Do you still want to go ahead with your lesson?”

“I'd rather not, if that's okay.” Now that the surprise of Kevin's appearance had worn off, the sadness had returned to Jordan's eyes. “I'm sorry for wasting your time. I'm sure my mom will still pay you.”

I nodded and collected my violin. My heart ached for Jordan but I knew there wasn't much I could do aside from trying to figure out a way to prove his mother's innocence, if she was indeed innocent. That wasn't something I could figure out right then, though. I needed more information and time to sort out what I already knew.

“Okay.” I headed toward the foyer, Jordan falling into step with me. “I'll see you on Thursday.”

“Hopefully by then my mom will have some good news.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Tomorrow morning my mom and I are going to see my grandfather's lawyer about his will. Maybe he didn't leave my mom anything, but I hope he did. She's so stressed about money these days.”

The mention of the will reading piqued my interest, but I didn't let it show. I figured the police already had a copy of the will, and if Mrs. Duffy stood to inherit a substantial amount, maybe that was part of their reason for suspecting her. But she might not be the only beneficiary. I'd be interested to find out if Kevin or anyone else was about to come into some money. It wasn't any of my business, but that didn't mean I wasn't curious.

I paused by the front door as I remembered something. “Do you know who Elspeth is?”

“Elspeth? Why?”

“Your grandfather was asking for her right before he collapsed.”

The sadness in Jordan's eyes intensified. “That was my grandmother's name. She died eight years ago.”

“Oh. I'm sorry.”

Jordan shrugged, but I regretted bringing the subject up.

“I'll see you in a ­couple of days,” I told him as we parted at the front door.

The police were still busy in the study, light pouring out of the tall windows into the front yard. I walked along the driveway, down to the street, and followed the sidewalk from there. The streetlamps were lit and I was used to walking to and from bus stops at night since I didn't own a car, but still, I removed my cell phone from my purse and held it in my free hand, just in case I needed to make a quick call for any reason.

Thoughts of Daniel Beaufort and what he might have been searching for in Major's study occupied my thoughts as I walked along the quiet street. I recalled the less than amicable conversation between the two men at the reception on Friday night and wondered if Beaufort's search of the study was related in any way. I suspected that it was, but I hadn't overheard enough at the reception to give me any sort of clue as to what the problem between them was. And I wasn't sure if I'd be able to find out. Questioning Dr. Beaufort would be awkward and it was something I wanted to avoid if at all possible.

As I neared the bus stop, a twig snapped somewhere behind me. I spun around but saw no one on the street. Maybe it had only been a raccoon or other small animal. Most likely. Still, my heart beat faster and I tightened my grip on my phone. There were plenty of places for someone to hide. Large trees lined the street and bushes and stone walls surrounded several of the large residential properties. I thought a shadow moved near one of the trees. My heart jumped and increased its rate further, its beat like the percussion part of a wild, racing song.

The shadow didn't move again and I wondered if my eyes had merely played a trick on me. I didn't want to stick around to find out if that was or wasn't the case. Picking up my pace, I selected JT's number from the list of contacts on my phone. I put the device to my ear, but it rang three times and went to voice mail.

Darn it.

I hung up without leaving a message. He was probably in the middle of band practice. Not that I expected him to come rescue me from spooky shadows or anything, but I would have felt better hearing his voice and having him know where I was. The confrontation with Kevin Major had left my nerves more on edge than I'd realized.

With a small measure of relief, I reached the bus stop, situated in a pool of light beneath a streetlamp. I peered into the surrounding darkness in a constant search for any movement. Although I thought another shadow across the street moved in an unnatural manner, once again I couldn't be sure of what I'd seen. As I was thinking about texting JT with my location and concerns, a bus rumbled into sight and some of my nervous tension eased away.

When the bus stopped at the curb, I boarded it with an even greater sense of relief, glad to put some real distance between myself and the place where I'd last seen Kevin Major, and glad to be safely away from spooky, flickering shadows.

T
HAT NIGHT
I
expected to dream of dark shapes looming over me, or of an irate Kevin bent on silencing me forever. When I awoke the next morning, however, the only dream I could recall was about a cold ride on the back of a motorcycle on a dark, rainy night. I had no idea where that dream had come from.

What I did know was that I could no longer put off breaking up with Aaron. I didn't want to wait until later in the day as I had originally planned. Waiting while knowing what I had to do was only upsetting my stomach and making me fidgety. I had to get it over with. As soon as possible.

Still in my pajamas, I fetched my phone and sent him a quick text message.

Do you have time to meet for breakfast?

I showered and dressed while I waited for an answer.

Sure. When and where?
was his response.

I sent him the name and location of a small café not far from my apartment and arranged to meet him there in twenty minutes. My stomach did a series of somersaults and I was tempted to dive back into bed and bury my head under the pillows. How could I do this to him? I really,
really
didn't want to. But I also didn't want to string him along and allow him to believe that our relationship was going somewhere when it wasn't.

After drying my hair and running my brush through it one last time, I set off to the café. When I arrived, I peered in through the large front window. Several patrons sat at the tables, but I didn't spot Aaron among them. Perhaps that was for the best. I'd prefer to talk to him outside of the café, rather than within earshot of all the morning diners.

A minute or two later, he came along the street toward me, smiling when he saw me waiting for him on the sidewalk. I tried my best to return the smile, but I was quite sure that it was more of a tremulous grimace.

“Hey,” he greeted, giving me a hug and a quick kiss. “All right?”

I didn't know how to respond.

“What's wrong?” he asked when he saw my expression.

I took his arm. “Can we walk for a minute?”

“Sure.” He fell into step next to me, but when I glanced up at him, his eyes held a hint of hesitation. “What's going on?”

Still holding his arm, I let out a deep sigh. “I'm so sorry, Aaron.”

“Sorry for what?”

I couldn't bring myself to answer, but in the end I didn't have to.

He took in my expression and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “You're breaking up with me?”

I closed my eyes for a second. “Yes. I'm sorry.”

He shook his head, dazed. “I don't get it. I thought things were good between us. Is it because I was away?”

“No. Maybe. I don't know.” I sighed again. “All I know is that I don't feel the way I need to for us to stay together. I like you a lot. I really do. But . . .”

“Not enough,” he finished for me, a note of hurt ringing behind his words.

I'm such a horrible person
, I thought as I tried to keep myself from crying. Seeing the pain in his eyes as I broke the news to him was worse than I'd imagined. My throat burned from the effort of trying not to cry.

“I'm sorry,” I said again, not knowing what else to say. My words sounded feeble and hung in the air between us.

Aaron scrubbed a hand down his face. “I guess I should have seen this coming.”

“Why?”

“You didn't seem quite yourself the other day. It was like you were holding back or something. I thought maybe it was because I'd been away so long but . . .”

“I wish I felt differently, Aaron. I really do.”

He stared past me, down the street. “So do I.” After several impossibly long seconds, he met my gaze again. A wall had gone up, hiding his emotions. “I guess that's it then.”

I swallowed and struggled to speak. “I guess so.”

He leaned in and gave me a quick, light hug. “Take care of yourself, Midori.”

“You too,” I whispered as I returned the hug.

As soon as he let go of me, he was off down the street, moving away from me with long strides. I stood there in front of the café, watching him go, a single tear sliding down my cheek.