Fatal Trust (18 page)

Trey called at eight the next morning. “I hope I didn’t wake
you,” he said. “I need to talk to you.”

That was convenient, since Lexie had planned to call him.
Even though she was now working with Ben, she still intended to ask Trey for
help. According to Ben, Max had recommended it. “Should I meet you at
Nevermore?” she asked.

“Could you come to my house? I don’t want to risk anyone
overhearing us.”

The tension underlying his tone kicked Lexie’s pulse up a
notch. She’d assumed Trey had a question related to the trust. But why would he
worry about that being overheard? “Is this about Max’s murder?” she asked.

“It might be.”

A half hour later Lexie was inside a large Victorian house
perched on a bluff overlooking Lake Superior. “This is beautiful,” she said as
she walked into a living room that could have been featured in a decorating
magazine. Enormous windows on one side let in sunlight and a stunning lake
view. A sofa the same sapphire as the lake and two scarlet chairs were atop a
Persian carpet featuring the same colors; dark wood coffee and end tables
sported needlework cloths and flower-filled vases. “Elegant, yet homey.”

“All thanks to my late wife,” Trey said. “She was a talented
decorator.”

“Several people mentioned what a wonderful woman she was,
all the work she did for the hospital,” Lexie said.

“And First Baptist Church, the garden club, the Girl Scouts,
and a dozen other groups.” Pride warmed Trey’s voice. “Maria was a very giving
woman. We weren’t able to have children, so she gave all her energy to
projects. She died four years ago.”

“I’m very sorry.”

“Thanks. She had a heart attack, so at least she didn’t
suffer. Although I certainly did.” Pain flickered across his features. “Max was
a big help, since he understood how hard it is to lose the woman you love.”
Trey gestured to the sofa. “Please sit down.”

“You said you might know something relevant?” Lexie asked
when they were both seated.

Trey was silent for a moment, studying the Persian carpet as
if seeing it for the first time. “Something that could be damaging to Ben.” His
gaze was still on the carpet. “I’m not sure whether I should tell the police
about it. I’m not sure I should tell you, either, since it won’t be protected
by attorney-client privilege.”

“If you know something, you should tell the police.” Much as
she hated the idea of more evidence against Ben, she felt obligated to say
that. It was probably nothing, anyway, and Trey was just being an overcautious
accountant. If any major evidence against Ben were out there, Ben would
certainly have mentioned it to her.

Trey finally looked up. “I like Ben a lot.” There was
weariness in his face, in his tone. “I’ve known him since he was a kid, and
we’ve always had a good relationship. He’s as close as I’ve got to a son. I
guess that’s why I discounted this before and didn’t mention it when you asked
about everyone’s motives, especially since Max had chosen Ben to work with you.
But now that Max has been murdered and Ben’s the prime
suspect …”

“What do you know?”

Trey was quiet for a moment longer, then let out a long
breath. “Ben and Max had a huge argument a couple of months ago. I normally
would have been gone by then, but I’d stuck around late because I wanted to
finish Max’s taxes. I doubt either of them knew I was still in my office, since
I had the door and blinds closed.” He gave her a rueful half smile. “To be
honest, I didn’t want Max to know I was around because he’d come in and want to
talk, and I wanted to finish his damn taxes.”

“So Ben doesn’t know you overheard them?”

“I doubt it,” Trey said. “Max told Ben that he wanted him to
quit working at the garage and get a job where he used his brains and God-given
talents. Max thought it was unforgivable for anyone to waste those things.
Guess he didn’t think Ben’s mechanical talents were in the same category.
They’d argued about that before, but this time was different.”

“Why?”

“Max had just found out that Ben planned to expand the
garage. Max was furious because he’d assumed Ben was just taking a few years
off from finance, but expanding the garage made it look like he wasn’t planning
to go back ever. Max told Ben if he didn’t get a more appropriate job, he’d be
disinherited. As far as I know, he’d never made that threat before.”

“When did Max and Ben have this conversation?” Although
Lexie had a feeling she knew what was coming. The income tax part had given it
away.

“A couple of days before Easter. I remember thinking that I
hoped it didn’t make the holiday any more unpleasant than family gatherings
usually were.”

“This past Easter?”

“Yep. The Easter when Max was poisoned.”

After leaving Trey’s house, Lexie sat in her idling car for
a moment, her muscles so tight even her scalp hurt. When she’d played pool with
Ben’s lawyer, he’d mentioned Ben had given up his plan to expand the garage.
That made it sound as if Ben had taken Max’s threat seriously. Had it also
upset him enough to kill his grandfather? If the incident hadn’t been a big
deal, why hadn’t Ben mentioned it?

Maybe she’d been wrong when she’d concluded Ben was
innocent. Maybe he’d fooled Max and was now playing her, making it appear so
obvious he was being framed that she’d conclude he was innocent. Maybe he’d
made love to her to manipulate her so she wouldn’t believe anything
incriminating she heard about him.

Lexie shook her head. She still couldn’t believe Ben was
guilty. If she were lucky, at least one of the items on today’s To Do list would
prove she was right.

When she reached Nevermore, all but one of the rental cars
usually parked around the circular driveway were gone. She drove around back
and parked beside the carriage house. According to Ben, her car would be
visible only if someone happened to look out the entertainment room window, but
that room was rarely used during the day. If she were lucky, no one would know
she was here.

Grabbing the flashlight she’d discovered in the glove
compartment of her new rental, Lexie got out of the car and headed to
Nevermore’s back door. She used the key she’d gotten from Ben, hoping to avoid
alerting anyone she was there. Once inside the house, she tiptoed to the
library.

Lexie had never been inside the library before. The west
wall was entirely glass that would showcase a stunning view of the sun setting
over the woods. Floor-to-ceiling shelves jam-packed with books covered the
remaining walls. She headed to the bookshelf on the north wall.

Ben had told her that the lever to get into the secret
passages was located—appropriately enough—behind Max’s book
Deadly Passages.
Lexie
found the book, pulled the lever, and the bookshelf opened, exposing a dark
passage. She grinned. She felt as if she’d stepped back into an old Nancy Drew
mystery, since she’d never have believed anything like this existed in real
life. One more unique experience she could thank Max for.

She switched on her flashlight, took a deep breath, and
walked into the passage. She shone her light to the right of the door until she
found the red button, and then pushed it. The wall reclosed.

A wave of cold panic engulfed her, the dark making her
claustrophobic. Lexie punched the button again. The wall swung open, exposing
the library. She took a couple of deep breaths and reclosed the wall. Then she
followed Ben’s instructions to Max’s secret room.

If she’d had any doubts, the room Max had stayed in would
have convinced Lexie that he really had feared someone was trying to kill him.
It was gloomy and depressing, windowless with bare cream walls and a plywood
floor. She dug through a pile of magazines on the nightstand beside the bed,
smiling faintly when she reached a couple of financial statements that Max had
been bored enough to open. They were hiding something Max claimed to have even
less use for—two books by his rival, Stephen King, one with a bookmark showing
he’d been more than halfway through it. She shook her head. Even a best-selling
author couldn’t write around the clock. The hauntings had probably been the
highlights of the last week of Max’s life.

She opened the drawer of the nightstand. A notepad, a pen,
and a picture of Max and Jessica, standing in front of Nevermore. Her aunt must
have been sixty, but she looked a couple of decades younger, her long blonde
hair and flowing floral dress evidencing how very different she was from
Lexie’s mother. Jessica and Max had their arms around each other and were
smiling for the camera.

Lexie’s eyes filled. She couldn’t believe her aunt had been
dead eight years. She still missed her so much, missed having someone to
encourage her to do what she loved and live life on her own terms even when her
mother disapproved. At least Jessica and Max were together again now.

Lexie set the photo back down in the drawer, then picked it
up again. Something about it bothered her, but she couldn’t put her finger on
it. It was probably that this was the first picture she’d ever seen of Max and
Jessica together. Their romance hadn’t been secret, but it had been private.
Jessica had never talked much about Max, and other than being vaguely
interested in him because he was famous, Lexie hadn’t cared enough to ask.

She returned the photo to the drawer, and then searched the
rest of the room and the small attached bathroom. No hidden notes, pages, or anything
else that could conceivably be a clue.

She could check out all the passages, but Ben had done that
and found nothing. To be honest, she wasn’t anxious to search them. With her
shaky sense of direction, she’d probably get lost and spend the rest of her
life wandering around the nether regions of Nevermore.

She retraced her steps back through the main passage to the
door, opened it, and stepped into the empty library. Then she sneaked up to the
third floor to inspect Max’s bedroom.

Lexie had never been in Max’s bedroom before, so it didn’t
remind her of him, which made things easier. She crossed the room to the dark
wood armoire where Ben said he’d left messages for Max and opened the doors. Memories
now bombarded her, triggered by the clothes hanging in the armoire, clothes
that looked and smelled so much like Max. She made a quick check inside.
Nothing. With a sigh of relief, she closed the doors, and then systematically
examined the hardwood floor, the rug, the chair, inside the drawers, even under
the mattress. More nothing. She got down on her hands and knees and shone her
flashlight under the bed.

She found a button on the floor underneath the edge of the
bed. She grabbed it and studied it for a moment. Small, white, and with four
holes, it looked like it had come from a man’s shirt. In mystery books, buttons
were always significant, but they usually weren’t quite so generic. Although
who knows? Maybe she’d get lucky.

First she should make sure it wasn’t from one of Max’s
shirts. The shirt he’d been wearing when he was killed had been blue denim with
blue buttons—she’d never forget that. She hadn’t noticed any shirts in the
secret room, so presumably he kept them all in here. Taking a deep breath, she
went back to the armoire and opened the doors again.

Max had several shirts with buttons similar to the one she’d
found, but none were missing, not even any of the spare buttons on the bottom
of each shirt. She left his bedroom, taking the button with her and locking the
door behind her.

She made it to Nevermore’s main floor without anyone
spotting her, and then headed for the back door.

“Are you staying here again?”

Lexie stopped and turned to see Igor standing beside the
door to the parlor, his features expressionless. His usual butler face, but today
it triggered a chill that slithered up Lexie’s spine. He was strong enough to
do her serious damage, and as far as she knew, she was otherwise alone at
Nevermore with him.

And he could very well have murdered Max.

Why hadn’t she thought of that before? According to Cecilia,
the housekeeper and cook were both longtime employees and almost family.
Cecilia hadn’t mentioned Igor, though, and if he were the eighth butler, he
might not have been at Nevermore long. Lexie didn’t know a thing about him, not
even his real name. “I stopped by to talk to Cecilia, but she doesn’t seem to
be around. I used the trustee’s key because I didn’t want to bother you.” If
Igor were guilty, she certainly didn’t want him to suspect she’d been
investigating or was working with Ben.

“Everyone is gone except for Seth. He’s in the dining room.”

The words warmed away Lexie’s chill—Igor would hardly risk
murdering her with Seth so near. “How long have you worked here?”

He blinked. “Almost four months.” He blinked again.

“How did you get this job?”

More blinking. “Why?”

“I was curious how someone came to work for Max Windsor,”
Lexie said.

“I applied for the job, and he hired me.” Igor’s face stayed
butler expressionless, but he was blinking quite a bit, so maybe her questions
were making him agitated. On the other hand, she’d never paid that much
attention to him. Maybe he wore uncomfortable contacts.

“Are you a professional butler?” Lexie asked.

“Have I acted improperly?”

“Not at all. I was curious since I’ve never met a real butler
before. Do you have to go to school for it? There’s a butlering school in
London, isn’t there?”

“I don’t know. If you don’t need anything, I should return
to my duties.”

She held out the button. “Is this yours? It looks like it’s
from one of your shirts.”

He didn’t even bother looking down his nose at it. “I am not
missing any buttons.” Then he turned and glided into the parlor.

“The butler did it” might be a cliché, but Igor was now
officially on Lexie’s suspect list. He could have taken this job because for
some unknown reason he hated Max. Igor served meals and would have had no
trouble poisoning Max’s Easter dinner. He also could have shot out the living
room window. He would have known about the gun that was kept in the basement.
He had the soundless butler walk down, so he could easily have seen Max without
Max realizing it.