Heather Horrocks - Who-Dun-Him Inn 02 - Inn the Doghouse (23 page)

I wavered for a moment. Should I tell her I saw DeWayne without mentioning Crystal? No. I couldn’t, because then she’d wonder why I didn’t run out and grab him and call her. I switched to a safer subject. “I just saw Jeff Eklund.”

Her expression sharpened. “Really? Where?”

“I came out of the pet store just in time to see him talking with Lamont, and heard him say they’d talk next week. And Jeff said he’d bring papers.”

“That’s interesting. They both said they didn’t have dealings with the other.”

“I know. Which is why I wanted to talk to Jeff. But I wasn’t able to learn the reason for their meeting.” I told her what I
did
learn. About Gene stealing from his mother’s trust fund, which Lamont already told us when we met with him. About Jeff’s vindictive accusations against Liz.

“I’m innocent,” Liz said. “But people are always saying it’s the spouse.”

“People will know that’s ridiculous.” I hoped.

“I just can’t believe Gene would steal from his mother,” Liz said, tugging at her emerald green scarf. “But what do I know? I only lived with the man.”

“What now?” I asked. “Where are you going to look for DeWayne next?”

“I’m taking a break.” She motioned toward Gene’s real estate office. “Lamont said he had some more papers for me to sign. Come in with me.”

“All right.” I pulled out my phone and texted both David and Lonny, thanking them and letting them know where I’d be, as I followed her inside.

The same perky, young blonde sat behind the desk—the woman who’d replaced Norma. I didn’t remember her name until I saw the little name bar: Kylee Thompson.

She smiled cautiously at Liz. “Hello, Ms. Eklund, Ms. Butler.”

“Hi, Kylee,” Liz said, her tone cool. “Mr. Williams had some papers for me to sign. Is he in?”

The young woman shook her head. “He should be back soon from showing a property, but he left the papers here with me.” She fumbled through a stack and held out a manila folder.

“Thanks.” My sister took it and flipped through the pages quickly. “I’ll study these and bring them back.” Of course, my lawyer sister would never sign anything without reading it carefully.

Kylee looked uncomfortable. “I don’t think they’re supposed to leave the office.”

Liz smiled at the young woman. “I’m an attorney and half-owner of this business. I’ll take very good care of them.”

“Oh. All right.” Kylee backed down, leaning back in her chair. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Yes,” Liz said. “Do you know of any reason why someone could have murdered my husband?”

I didn’t expect that question. Apparently, Kylee didn’t either, for she sputtered, “What do you mean?”

“I mean my husband was murdered. You work in my husband’s office. So I’m wondering if you saw anything, something strange in any transaction, got any strange phone calls, any kinds of clues at all.”

She didn’t call Kylee
clueless
, but she issued the challenge nonetheless.

The girl put her hands in her lap. “Well, there was
one
strange thing I noticed.”

Liz’s gaze sharpened. “Share with us, please.”

The receptionist leaned forward and confided, “Mr. Eklund got a collection call from a casino a couple of months ago.”

Liz tipped her head, looking surprised. “A casino?”

Kylee nodded helpfully. “A big Las Vegas casino.”

Liz frowned. “Why?”

“Well,” Kylee looked at Liz and paused, until Liz motioned her to continue. “I wasn’t here, but apparently, Norma said Mr. Eklund had a gambling problem that no one knew about.”

Liz stared at the girl, her lips narrowed.

The girl nibbled on her cheek before offering, “I’ve heard that lots of gamblers get hooked after they win big once. They try to recreate the win, but never do.”

I read that somewhere, too. I looked at Liz, who shook her head. “Gene never won big at a casino. He went down occasionally, but he was always careful to only take a couple of hundred dollars with him to play with and once he lost that, he’d stop.”

She continued looking into my eyes and I saw doubt. He could have won big and she might not have known. And maybe he didn’t stop after losing the pre-set amount of money.

Trying to hide a gambling problem made it more plausible that Gene might have actually taken money from his mother’s trust account.

But could knowing that help us figure out who killed him?

I heard casinos were run by the mob. Did that mean Gene was killed by a
wise guy
? And, if he was, how could we ever possibly find out?

If my speculations were accurate, this would make our informal investigation a
lot
harder. Like nigh unto impossible.

I shook it off. I couldn’t give up hope now. My sister’s freedom might be at stake. No matter how hard it was, we had to keep investigating, asking questions, and thinking things through.

~ ~ ~

Tuesday, November 15

The next afternoon, Liz arrived home from work early because she didn’t have any court appearances, only a headache. After taking a couple of aspirin, she sat on a stool at my kitchen counter and watched me put together a chef salad for dinner. Finally, she sighed. “That looks really good.”

“Thanks.” I smiled. I rarely got compliments when I cooked anything other than breakfast. “There’s soup in the slow cooker, too, because it’s so chilly outside.”

My only guests until Thursday’s scheduled check ins—the two couples vacationing together from Germany—were at the ski slopes today and wouldn’t be back until late, so I had an extraordinary day with no one but family at the Inn.

“Not as good as if David makes it, of course,” Liz teased, going for light humor, but her voice sounded tired.

Grandma Ross, sitting beside Liz, glanced over her shoulder at Zach—who was studiously doing his homework at the kitchen table behind us—and said in a lowered voice, “I think you ought to go see a doctor, Elizabeth.”

“I’m fine.” Liz waved her off.

“You’re always tired lately,” I said, worried about her. “Which means, with our weird twin senses, that I’m tired a lot, too.”

She smiled. “You mean just like I was tired after Robert died because you couldn’t sleep?”

“Touché,” I said, remembering. “I was a wreck for a long time.”

“So am I. A total train wreck. Head-on, two-train collision.”

“Maybe you’re getting depressed.”

She stared at me, daring me to go on.

“Okay,” I said, backing off. After a pause, I added, “It does get better. After a long time.”

Grandma nodded and shifted her weight on the stool to get comfortable. “A really long time.”

Liz climbed down and opened the fridge. “Would you ladies like anything to drink?”

I shook my head. Grandma said, “Only if it’s hot chocolate. The cold has crept into my bones today.”

Zach looked up. “I’d like a Gatorade.”

“One G2, coming up,” Liz said, handing it to him and tousling his hair.

Liz climbed back onto her stool, putting a cup with hot chocolate mix in front of Grandma, and popping the lid on a Sprite.

After filling the teapot, and heating some water, she stirred the water into the hot chocolate mix.

She replaced the mug in front of Grandma, who smiled gently. “You were trying to change the subject, Elizabeth.”

Liz nodded. “You’re right. Okay, okay, I’ll confess. If only I could sleep all night, I’d feel better.”

“Hey, I know,” I said. “Let Grandma fix you one of her toddies tonight. You’ll sleep like a baby.”

“I’ll bring one up later,” promised Grandma, ever helpful.

Liz stared at me. “Thanks, Vicki. A lot.”

None of us ever wanted to actually take any of Grandma’s eighty-proof toddies. I smiled at them both and pulled out four plates.

Grandma took another sip. “Be sure to take care of yourself.”

I dished out the salad onto the plates and set them along the counter. I intended to bring Zach over to join us after we finished talking.

“Thanks,” Liz conceded. “I’ll try to do better.”

“Especially if you want to kick butt tomorrow night at our karate class.”

“I’m not sure I’m up to it.” Liz laughed. “But I would very much like to be a kick-butt heroine in my own life story.”

“Me, too.” I reached for bowls.

Zach said, “That’s a naughty word.”

I nodded, having become painfully aware that Zach heard a lot more than I ever wanted him to. “You’re right, baby. You ladies stop using naughty words with my impressionable, young son around.”

Grandma said, “Did you girls remember my dinner party Thursday night?”

Liz and I exchanged blank looks. If Grandma had told us, we both forgot in the chaos of the murder and DeWayne.

Grandma nodded. “That’s okay. You’ve had a lot going on. But you’ll want to be there because it will be delicious. I have the most exclusive chef in town catering it for me.”

The phone rang. I answered with, “Hi, Paul. Any news from DeWayne?”

Without answering my question, he asked, “Is Liz there with you?”

His tone was serious enough that my chest tightened. I glanced at her. “Yes.”

“Put me on speaker phone. I have good news and not-so-good news.”

So I did, telling Liz, “Paul has news for us.”

Liz said, “Hi, Paul.”

“The good news is that you are no longer a suspect in Gene’s murder.”

Liz sucked in a quick breath and wrapped her arms around herself.

“Why not?” I asked Paul, my mouth dry. “What happened?”

“The killer confessed.”

“Who? Do we know him?” I asked, wondering if it was a
wise guy
or a local guy.

“Herbert Norris.”

Grandma gasped. “Herbert?
My
Herbert? There’s no way he’s guilty.”

“Is that Grandma? Hi, Grandma,” Paul said. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news. I suggest you find someone new to date.”

I leaned against the counter, my legs weak in my relief. “So Liz isn’t going to jail!”

“Nope. You’re off the hook, little sister. And your husband’s murderer is behind bars.”

Liz looked stunned. “But why did he do it?”

“Because…” Paul paused before the words rushed out of him. “He did it because it was his granddaughter, Misty, who was pregnant.”

“Oh.” Liz slumped over the counter at the mention of Gene’s mistress. “Thank you for calling, Paul.”

“And the not-so-good news?” I asked, dreading what was coming.

Paul hesitated, so it was
bad
news.

Liz said, “Just say it.”

“You wanted me to tell you when I heard from DeWayne.”

This was like the proverbial pulling of teeth. “And….?” I prompted.

“I shouldn’t tell you this over the phone. I’ll come over and tell you face to face.”

“Has he been in an accident?” Liz asked, her voice small.

“Tell us now,” I said.

“No, no. He’s fine. It’s just that…” Again, he stopped. Then a sigh. “He got married last night.”

“What?” All three of us gasped out the word, astonished.

“He and Crystal eloped last night. They got married in one of the fancy wedding chapels in one of the fancier hotels in Las Vegas.”

“He married Crystal?” I asked dumbly. “In Vegas?”

“At least, he didn’t go to the Elvis Chapel of Love,” Grandma said.

Liz sucked in noisy, shuddering breaths, trying to control her emotions. “He thought I didn’t care. Because of how stupid I was in jail that day. You saw his face. I knew I needed to talk to him. And now he’s gone and done something stupid, too.”

“I’m so sorry, Liz,” I said. And I really, really was.

“Me, too.” Then she leaned into my hug and cried.

~ ~ ~

Thursday, November 17

Grandma wasn’t joking about hiring a fantastic chef for her Thursday night dinner party, but she did omit an important detail. Like, for instance, the fact that the “most exclusive chef in town”
she hired was David Weston.

Which, of course, made me acutely aware of him coming and going, bringing in food with the other servers. When he did, he seemed always to be watching me.

I just had to get through the dinner without embarrassing myself by acting like a schoolgirl with a crush, which is how I began to feel around him. No making a spectacle of myself tonight. I would be cool and sophisticated.

Grandma invited my parents, Liz, Zach and me, and Paul and his wife, Jennifer, and their three children. My sister, Georgia, couldn’t come because she was working at the hospital tonight. A few of Grandma’s friends also came, and, not surprising to me anymore, an older male friend of Grandpa George’s. Did Grandma follow Paul’s advice to find someone new to date so quickly? Already?