Fatal Trust (9 page)

Ben hadn’t turned on the air conditioner today, but since
the outside temperature was in the low seventies, the office was only a little
stuffy. Lexie opened the mini-fridge and checked inside. “You’re out of bottled
water,” she said, and then sat down on one of the folding chairs.

“Sorry, but I wasn’t expecting you. Trudy made coffee.”

“I’ll pass.” She’d smelled Trudy’s coffee when she’d come
in. The stuff was so overheated she was surprised it didn’t trigger the smoke
alarms. Lexie pulled a notepad out of her purse and opened it to today’s To Do
list.

Ben shut the door. “What’s so damned important?”

“For one thing, I had an interesting conversation with
Dylan’s loan shark.” That wasn’t on her list, but it seemed a good place to
start.

“When?”

“When I came out of the house this morning. He wanted to
warn Dylan not to screw up and lose his share of the trust.”

Ben’s jaw dropped, and he plopped down on the other folding
chair. “I thought you meant you talked to him on the phone. He showed up at
Nevermore?”

She nodded. “He’s from Thunder Bay and bought Dylan’s loan.
The good news is that he isn’t Mafia, although he’d like to be. J.P. complained
that the American and Canadian Mafia families won’t let him affiliate, even
though he’s probably whacked more people than they have.”

Ben’s jaw dropped a couple more notches. “He what?”

“Killed people, but only in self-defense, he claims. And
he’s quit now.”

Ben rested a hand on her arm. “Did he hurt you? Or threaten
you?”

“Not a bit,” Lexie said. “He was actually quite pleasant.”

“Thank God,” Ben said, removing his hand. “Did this J.P.
talk to Dylan?”

Lexie shook her head. “I told him I’d relay his message, so
he left. I also wanted to tell you that Trey figured out who I really am.”

“How?”

“I have my aunt’s eyes.”

“What’s your aunt got to do with anything?”

“She was Jessica Stuart.”

Ben looked even more shocked than when she’d told him about
Dylan’s loan shark. “Your aunt was the famous romance writer?”

“And the love of your grandfather’s life. Besides your
grandmother, of course.”

“Don’t bother being tactful,” Ben said. “I barely remember
my grandmother, and I know for a fact that Grandfather loved Jessica much more.
He admitted that he cheated all the time on Grandmother, but never once on
Jessica. His greatest regret was that Jessica never married him.”

“She wasn’t a fan of marriage, which is a little ironic for
a romance writer whose books always ended with marriage and happily ever
after,” Lexie said. “She was my mother’s only sister.”

“Is that how you met Grandfather? Through your aunt?”

“Indirectly,” Lexie said. “I never met him while Aunt
Jessica was alive, probably because she knew my mother didn’t approve of their
romance and might use that as an excuse to keep me from visiting her. But Aunt
Jessica had told Max about me and that I was a lawyer in Philadelphia. After
she died, I think Max wanted to keep a connection with her family, so he came
to me. I was only a third-year associate when I brought in not only Max
Windsor’s estate-planning business but most of his other business. The partners
immediately stopped treating me like toilet paper stuck to the sole of a shoe,
and my work life improved immensely. I owe Max big time for that.”

“Is that why you pretended to be a writer? Because of your
aunt?”

Lexie shrugged. “For a while I was a writer. Aunt Jessica
encouraged me, and I had three romances published. My mother didn’t approve,
even though I used a pen name. I’m not sure whether it was more because I wrote
something she considered lowbrow or because she disapproved of the sex. She was
already scandalized by what her sister wrote.”

“I met Jessica a few times when I was a kid,” Ben said. “Why
didn’t you tell me she was your aunt?”

“It never came up.” To be honest, she’d also feared he’d use
that information to guilt her into staying and investigating. “Trey knew
Jessica’s niece was Max’s lawyer, and he also knew my name. He checked out my
photo on my law firm website to confirm his suspicions. I doubt anyone else
would recognize me simply because of my eyes.”

“You’re probably right. Especially considering how different
your aunt was from you.”

“Aunt Jessica definitely didn’t have a stick up her ass.”
Lexie smiled faintly. “Max got that phrase from her. She always used it to
describe my mother.” Her smile faded. “Trey also gave me information about
possible motives.” She related what Trey had told her. “Did you learn anything
else?”

“Cecilia confirmed that she could use the money, but claims
she’s got enough to get by for a while,” Ben said. “She hasn’t gotten back to
me with specifics about Dylan’s debt, and I haven’t had time to call Olivia
about Jeremy. So I guess everyone is still a suspect.”

Lexie tapped her pen against her To Do list. “Although the
more I get to know everyone, the harder it is to believe any one of them would
have murdered Max. Maybe no one was trying to kill him at all. Maybe all of
this was Max creating his last fictional work.”

“The poisoning and shooting weren’t accidents.”

“Maybe Max staged both incidents, then wrote the letters to
us so that when he eventually died, we’d suspect it had been murder. If he’d
lived longer, he might have staged even more incidents.”

“I can’t imagine Grandfather doing that.” Ben was drumming
his fingers on the paper-strewn desktop.

“Why not? Max earned a fortune setting scenes and
manipulating people into suspending disbelief.”

Ben’s fingers halted. “What are you saying?”

This hadn’t been on today’s To Do list, either, but talking
to Ben had made it clear it should be. “I’m saying that I never thought I was
qualified to solve this in the first place, but I owed it to Max to give it a
shot. Well, I have, and I’m no closer to figuring out who did it than when I
arrived. I’m not even sure there was a murder. I also can’t keep charging the
trust for my fees when I’m not accomplishing anything. I think it’s time to
call in a professional.”

“I won’t hire a private investigator. Grandfather didn’t
want that.”

“It isn’t your decision, Ben,” Lexie said. “It’s the
trustee’s obligation to make sure Max’s murderer, if there is one, doesn’t get
anything from the trust. I’m sure someone at my firm can recommend a discreet
P.I.”

Ben stared at the ceiling for a moment. “Look, you like
lists,” he finally said, meeting her eyes. “How about we make a list of
everything we know about every beneficiary, even things that seem irrelevant,
then see where we are. We also haven’t looked into where everyone was when
Grandfather died. Or when the window was shot out.”

“As you pointed out, anyone could have hired a killer.”

“We should at least find out. There are probably other
things we’ve missed.”

“A private investigator would find out the same things,”
Lexie said. “Plus things we’re too inexperienced to realize are important.”

“We also haven’t uncovered the family secrets Grandfather
was afraid would come out. Your aunt would have wanted you to protect his
family and his reputation. It’s possible some of those secrets concern her.”

Her aunt was long dead and would probably have relished a
scandal even if she were alive. But Lexie had been right to worry that Ben
would try to use Aunt Jessica to guilt her into investigating, and it was
working. She let out a resigned breath. “Okay. I’ll wait until we’ve at least
discussed it before I advise the trustee to hire a P.I.”

Ben got to his feet. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“To Lee’s Market. Apparently I’m out of bottled water.”

“I can live without it,” Lexie said. “We still have one more
thing to discuss.”

“After we go to Lee’s. I need a couple of other things there
anyway. Close the door behind you.” He took off.

Lexie could either follow him or go back to Nevermore. She
wasn’t about to leave town until she’d brought up one last issue. So she
followed.

While Ben made his purchases in Lee’s Market, Lexie checked
out the store. It had a surprisingly good variety of merchandise, including
many gourmet ingredients and what appeared to be high-quality meat and
vegetables. It also had more flavors of Jell-O and versions of Hamburger,
Chicken, and Tuna Helper than she’d dreamed existed.

When she walked up to the counter where Ben was checking
out, he draped an arm around her shoulders. “Your secret’s out. Ruth knows you
aren’t a cocktail waitress.”

A name tag identified Ruth as the clerk checking Ben out. So
much for Lexie’s confidence that no one besides Trey would recognize her.

“Amber told her, but Ruth said she should have guessed from
the way you walk,” Ben added.

“The way I walk?” People had a lot of stereotypes about
attorneys in general and even more about female ones, but she’d never heard
anything about a distinctive walk.

“Yep. It’s obvious you’re really an exotic dancer. I told
Ruth you preferred that to being called a stripper.”

Lexie stared at him, speechless.

“That isn’t a problem,” Ruth said before Lexie could manage
a response. “Most people in town are broad-minded and realize that’s just
another job. Assuming all you do is take off your clothes and dance.”

“If she did more than that, she wouldn’t be with me,” Ben
said.

Ruth nodded, her gray bouffant so heavily lacquered the
curls didn’t even quiver. “You always did have high morals, Ben. You’ve also
got your pick of women, so she must be a good one.”

“She is.” He squeezed Lexie’s shoulder. “And she does a hell
of a pole dance.”

Apparently Ruth didn’t know what a pole dance was or she
considered it permissible, since she seemed to take it in stride. She handed
Ben his change. “It’s been nice meeting you, Lexie.”

“You, too,” Lexie got out. “People think I’m a stripper?”
she asked the instant they stepped out of the store.

“I’d think you’d be flattered. I told Ruth you were very
talented and had even performed in Las Vegas, but moved back to Lexington to
take care of your sick mother. You use most of your salary to pay for her
medicine and medical expenses.”

“And I do a hell of a pole dance.”

“I was going to make it a lap dance, but I didn’t want Ruth
to think I’d have a girlfriend who spent her time wiggling around on top of
other men.” He grinned. “I don’t care who looks, but I’m the only one who gets
to touch.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“I have to admit having a stripper girlfriend will improve
my standing with the guys at Walt’s.”

Lexie rolled her eyes. “I’m so happy to be of service. Who
did you say told Ruth?”

“Amber Morris. My most recent ex-girlfriend.”

“The one you broke up with the other night?”

“Yep. Although I distinctly remember telling her you were a
cocktail waitress. But don’t worry. Ruth will spread around that you’re also
helping out your mother. So even if some people consider you a slut, they’ll
know that at least you’re one with a heart of gold.”

Lexie burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it—this whole
thing was absurd. “Max would have loved this.”

“He would have,” Ben agreed. “What else do we need to
discuss?”

Lexie’s smile faded. “Let’s wait until we get back to your
office.”

“What is it?” Ben asked when they were again seated in his
office.

Lexie hesitated. This was uncomfortable, but she had to
bring it up. “Look, I don’t want you to think I’ve gone off the deep end. But
do you think it’s possible Max is haunting Nevermore?”

“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”

“I didn’t think I did,” Lexie said. “But both Dylan and
Muriel swear they saw him. And after Muriel mentioned murder—”

Ben’s expression shifted, only for an instant, but long
enough that Lexie caught it. “I knew it,” she said. “You’re wondering the same
thing, right?”

“No, but—” The phone interrupted him. “What is it, Trudy?”

“For the record, I don’t think Nevermore is haunted by
anyone,” he said after he hung up. “I have to take care of a customer. Anything
else we need to discuss?”

“That’s it. I just need a couple of minutes to finish my
notes,” Lexie said. “What time will you be home tonight? So we can analyze
possible suspects?”

He got to his feet. “We’ll have to do it tomorrow. Tonight
we’re going to a street dance.”

“I’m not going to a street dance.”

“Have you ever been to one?”

“No, and I have no desire to. I saw the poster for this one.
The band playing is called Miles and the Muleskinners, for God’s sake.”

“They’re very good. I’m going, and it will look strange if
you don’t come along.” Ben opened the office door. “Especially considering you
dance for a living.”

“As I told you before, I’m on vacation.”

“Your loss.” Then he left, shutting the door behind him.

Lexie spent a couple of minutes updating her notes and To Do
list, then opened the office door to the day’s second bout of déjà vu. Just
like the first day, Ben was talking to yet another stacked bimbo, this one a
brunette dressed in a tight pink T-shirt and denim miniskirt. Okay, so Lexie
didn’t know for a fact that she was a bimbo, although if life were fair, no one
who looked like that would also be brain surgeon material.

The woman was standing so close to Ben that one of her
breasts was pressed against his arm. “I’m looking forward to seeing you
tonight,” she said. “I’ll save you a couple of dances.”

Lexie strode toward her. “Sorry, but Ben’s dance card is
full. I’m Lexie. Ben’s girlfriend.” She extended her hand.

The woman ignored it. “You didn’t mention you’d be bringing
anyone to the dance, Ben.”

Lexie wrapped both hands around Ben’s forearm and pulled him
away from the other woman. “He probably didn’t think it was necessary since the
entire town knows I’m here.”