Fatal Trust (16 page)

“Catherine Barrington’s been in a car accident.”

Ben’s gut had clenched when Mike showed up at the garage
wearing his police uniform, but his words twisted it inside out. “Is she okay?”
Ben asked.

“Just a little bruised,” Mike said. “She’s damn lucky. She
hit one of the few trees that would have stopped her car, and the airbag kept
her from getting hurt worse.”

Thank God.
Ben’s conscience couldn’t
handle another death or even serious injury, and this one would have definitely
been on his conscience. If he’d talked Grandfather out of his stupid plan in
the first place, Lexie would never have been involved. “What happened?”

Mike leaned against the wall beneath one of the dozen
posters that decorated the garage, this one an old ad featuring the Michelin
Man. “That’s what I need to ask you,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“A couple of hours ago when Catherine was driving up to
Nevermore, her brakes went out. The emergency brake didn’t work, either. That
all seems a little unlikely when she’s driving a new rental car, not unless
they had some help. Did you give them that help?”

This time it was Ben’s fist that clenched. “You think I
tampered with Lexie’s brakes? Why the hell would I do that?”

Mike crossed his arms, accentuating his stomach rolls. With
all the weight he’d gained since high school, he looked a little like the
Michelin Man himself, stuffed into a cop uniform. “Everyone in town knows she’s
trying to find out who killed Max.”

“Since I didn’t kill Grandfather, I
wan
t
her to find the truth,” Ben said. “Besides, you guys already think I did it.
Why would I be concerned about Lexie?”

“You know we might not have enough evidence to convict you,
not with that slick New York City lawyer you got defending you. But Ms.
Barrington’s a big-city lawyer herself, so she could probably find enough new
evidence to put you away.”

Ben pressed his fists against his sides, resisting the urge
to beat some sense into Mike. He couldn’t believe that the cops actually
thought he’d ever hurt Lexie. “Were Lexie’s brakes tampered with last night?”
he asked, managing to keep his tone level. “Because I had dinner at Cleo’s,
then went back to Nevermore. I’ve got witnesses.”

“We don’t rightly know when it was done,” Mike said. “Ms.
Barrington hasn’t driven her car since two days ago, and it’s been sitting in
the lot behind the Lakeview Inn.”

“So anyone could have done it,” Ben pointed out.

“Assuming someone else knew what to do, which I doubt.”

“I’m sure there are Internet sites that explain how to drain
brake fluid or cut the brake line.” Ben’s voice had an edge—he was losing his
battle to control his temper.

Mike’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that’s what was
done?”

“I don’t,” Ben said. “Those are the easiest ways to tamper
with brakes.”

“We just happened to find the emergency brake cut and a
puddle of fluid in the parking lot where her car had been.”

Ben raised his chin and narrowed his own eyes. “Are you
charging me with this?” He sounded as belligerent as he felt.

Mike unfolded his arms and took a step away from the wall,
his flaccid features stony. Ben should have remembered a challenge always made
Mike dig in. “Not yet. But I’d advise you to stay away from Catherine
Barrington. Because if anything else happens to her, I’ll be back.”

Lexie answered a knock on her motel room door later that
morning to find Cecilia standing there.

“Could I talk to you for a minute, Lexie? Sorry, I mean
Catherine.”

“Lexie’s fine. Come in.” Lexie gestured to the shabby tan
upholstered chair in the corner. “Have a seat.”

Cecilia sat down, and then surveyed the room. “This is
supposed to be the only decent motel in town. I guess ‘decent’ is a relative
term.”

Which was true. Between its monochromatic color scheme,
stark furnishings, and slight odor of disinfectant, it had all the ambiance of
a public restroom. “On the plus side, it’s clean,” Lexie said. At least as
clean as you could get a room with carpeting and furnishings she’d bet were
older than she was.

She sat down on the edge of the bed. “What can I do for you?”

“I heard about your accident,” Cecilia said. “We could hear
the ambulance and police cars at Nevermore, so Jeremy and I drove down to check
what had happened. The cops refused to tell us anything, even who’d been hurt,
until I recognized your rental car. Then they said you were fine and had been
brought to your motel.”

“I got a couple of bruises, but nothing serious.” Lexie
frowned, which made the bruise on her forehead ache. “It’s a little ironic how
close I came to re-creating the way we originally thought Max died.”

“It’s horrible,” Cecilia said. “I stopped by to make sure
you really are okay and see if you need anything. A ride to pick up a
replacement car? Or anywhere else?”

“Thanks, but the rental company’s having another car
delivered here, since the brake failure could have been a problem they missed
when they last checked the car.”

Cecilia’s dark eyes widened, and she pressed her fingers
against her lips. “Oh my God. Your brakes went out? I assumed you were going
too fast and missed the curve.”

Lexie shook her head. “When I pushed on the brakes, they
wouldn’t work.”

Cecilia touched Lexie’s arm. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”

“Me, too,” Lexie said, and then met Cecilia’s eyes. “I want
to apologize for lying about my identity.”

“I understand. You were doing it for Grandfather,” Cecilia
said. “I am a little hurt that you haven’t called me since you moved out of
Nevermore. I thought we were friends, but maybe you were just pretending so you
could figure out if I killed Grandfather.”

“I figured out pretty early that you weren’t guilty, and I’d
honestly like to be your friend,” Lexie said. “I didn’t call because I wasn’t
sure you’d want to talk to me after the way I misled you.”

“Like I said, I understand,” Cecilia said. “Do you think
Ben’s guilty? Is that why you haven’t talked to him?”

Lexie blinked. She’d never considered that anyone might
think that. “Of course he isn’t guilty. I haven’t talked to him because I don’t
have any reason to.” She smiled humorlessly. “I thought we were working together
to find Max’s murderer, but he withheld the little detail that Max wasn’t even
dead.”

“So he lied to you the same way you lied to me,” Cecilia
said. “I’m willing to forgive you because you did it for Grandfather, because
you felt like you owed it to him. That’s the same way Ben felt.”

“I’ve been trying to find out who killed Max, since I know
Ben didn’t,” Lexie said. “ I was on my way to Nevermore this morning to ask you
a couple of questions.”

“Shoot.”

Lexie smiled faintly. “You must have read my mind, because
my first question is about the murder weapon. The cops said Max kept the gun in
the basement. Who knew that?”

“I assume everyone did,” Cecilia said. “Grandfather had
bookshelves full of things related to his writing. The gun was there in plain
sight for years, along with ammunition. You had to pass by it to get to the
laundry room, the wine cellar, and the beer refrigerator.”

“Did anyone ever say or do anything that might indicate he
or she knew your grandfather was alive? Or do anything else suspicious?”

Cecilia chewed her lower lip for a moment. “Not that I can
think of,” she finally said. “It’s hard to imagine any of my relatives giving
Grandfather arsenic or shooting through Nevermore’s window, let alone shooting
him at close range. What about Dylan’s loan shark?”

“I’m checking him out,” Lexie said. “If you think of
anything that might be related to Max’s murder, even something insignificant,
please call me.”

“I will. I’ll do whatever I can to help Ben.”

“By the way, did you ever go out with Peter?”

Cecilia nodded, chewing her lower lip again. “It was a
disaster.”

“I’m sorry. Did he turn out to be a jerk or just boring?”

“He turned out to be wonderful.”

Lexie’s eyebrows rose. “I think I missed something here.”

“He’s the nicest, most considerate man I’ve ever met.”
Cecilia was wringing her hands together. “He’s traveled all over and is
interested in all sorts of things. He made me laugh and asked my opinion about
things and really listened to what I said. And he’s the world’s best kisser.
Probably the best at everything else, too, although we didn’t do anything more
than kiss.”

“Why’s that a problem?” Cecilia’s distraught tone and
obvious agitation were at complete odds with her words.

“I was supposed to have a lousy time, so then I wouldn’t
have to worry about telling him I’ve been divorced three times. Instead I’m
going out with him again tonight. What should I do?”

Lexie had forgotten that concern. “If you like him, you need
to tell him the truth,” she said. “Explain that your mother convinced you that
you were like her and needed a man to support you. So you’d marry one wrong
man, get divorced, and immediately latch onto another because you were afraid
you’d starve otherwise.”

Cecilia’s hands halted. “That sounds like something Ben would
say.”

“Ben did say it. You can also tell Peter that you’ve changed
and are determined to do something more with your life. Volunteer work or maybe
go back to college and have a career. If he still rejects you because of your
past, he doesn’t deserve you. But I’ll bet he’ll understand.”

Lexie’s lecture was interrupted by her cell phone. “I should
take that. It’s the police.” She answered. “I see,” she said when the cop on
the other end finished talking. “Thanks.”

“Is something wrong?” Cecilia asked after Lexie had hung up.

Lexie’s stomach was whirling like a Jacuzzi on overdrive,
but she shook her head. “I need to sign another form, but it can wait until my
new rental shows up.”

Cecilia got to her feet. “I almost forgot—I also wanted to
invite you to sherry hour and dinner tomorrow night. Grandfather didn’t want a
funeral, but we wanted to do something to celebrate him and his life. I don’t
know why we didn’t think of that before.”

“Seeing his dead body makes his death a lot more real,”
Lexie said. “I’ll be there.”

After Cecilia left, Lexie bent over, her head between her
legs. The churning in her stomach had spread, and she was feeling a little
dizzy. Panicky.

She didn’t know why she hadn’t told Cecilia the truth. It
was bound to come out. But saying the words would make it real, the same way
seeing Max’s dead body had. And she didn’t want this to be real.

According to the cops, someone had made a hole in her brake
line and also cut the emergency brake. J.P. was right. She’d managed to upset
someone, and that someone had tried to kill her.

“How’s Lexie doing?” Walt asked, setting an open bottle of
Summit in front of Ben. “I heard about her accident.”

After Mike had left, Ben had needed to get out of the
garage. He’d told Trudy he was going to get an early lunch and headed to
Walt’s. He was in the mood for a liquid lunch. “I haven’t talked to her, but
apparently she’s fine. She was lucky it wasn’t worse.” Ben took a long swig of
Summit pale ale.

“I heard that, too,” Walt said. He tapped his knuckles
against his chin a few times, looking unusually serious. “I’m not all that sure
it was luck.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think maybe your grandfather had a hand in saving her.”

“Grandfather’s dead,” Ben said. “Really dead, this time.”

Walt rested his beefy hands on the bar in front of Ben and
leaned over it. “I’m talking about his ghost,” he whispered.

“You believe in ghosts?”

Before answering, Walt looked across the room at the only
other customers, two men with buzz cuts and beer guts who were sitting at one
of the tables. They were involved in an animated conversation of their own.
“Not usually, but Max always was a determined bastard,” Walt said, his voice
still low. “He’s also bound to feel like he should protect Lexie, seeing as how
he got her into this. Especially since her trouble happened on his property.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with it, no matter what you
heard.” Ben took another drink.

“Course you didn’t,” Walt said in a normal tone. “You’d
never do something like that. And why the hell would you want to hurt Lexie
when she’s trying to clear you?”

Ben slammed his bottle down on the bar. “Lexie’s trying to
clear me?”

Walt nodded. “She asked me to let her know if I heard
anything that might be related to Max’s murder. Asked Ruby and the gals at The
Clothes Garden to do the same thing. She said she knows you aren’t guilty, and
our cops are idiots, so it’s up to her to find out who did it. She didn’t
exactly come out and call the cops idiots, but that’s what she meant.”

Lexie didn’t think he’d killed
Grandfather.
The vise that had been crushing Ben’s
chest since his arrest loosened a little.

“It’s probably none of my business, but I think you’re as
big an idiot as our cops,” Walt continued. “Taking back your ex-wife instead of
sticking with Lexie. I mean, Lexie might be a big-city lawyer, but she’s nice
and not a bit stuck up. She’s a lot like her aunt was. And I don’t know her
real well, but I can’t see Lexie taking up with Jeremy the way that ex-wife of
yours did. Though like I said, it’s none of my business.”

Ben grinned for probably the first time since he’d seen his
grandfather’s murdered body. “When has that ever stopped you?”

Walt grinned back, wide enough to expose a missing tooth.
“Probably never, least not when it comes to people I care about.”

“Thanks, Walt.” For more than the beer. Ben put a five on
the bar.

Walt handed the bill back to him. “It’s on the house. Take
care of yourself.”