Where Truth Lies (14 page)
G
race glanced at the curtained doorway, then back at the card.
Come back to me.
What did that mean? Denise hadn’t mentioned a breakup.
Before Grace had a chance to put the bracelet back in the box, Denise walked in, a pack of napkins in her hands. When she saw the bracelet in Grace’s hands, she stopped short. “Where did you find that?”
“Under the tissues. I’m sorry if—”
Denise took the bracelet from Grace’s hand and dropped it back into the box. “Never mind.” She closed the box and put it back under the cash register.
Grace let the next few awkward seconds pass before she asked gently, “What did he do?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Steven. What did he do that he had to ask for your forgiveness?”
Denise took two napkins out of the pack and set them on the glass counter. “I can’t remember—something stupid, I’m sure.”
“For something stupid, the Steven I knew would bring flowers and chocolates. He saved the expensive jewelry for major blunders.”
“Grace, please, let it go. It’s really none of your business.”
The sharp tone stung a little. “That’s quite a reversal on your part, don’t you think? Only a few days ago,
I
was the one who was telling you that your personal life was none of my business, but you insisted on telling me everything about yourself. You got me involved, Denise. You made me care. You made me your friend. I didn’t want to be a part of your life, but like it not, here I am. Live with it.”
Denise’s eyes remained downcast.
“You broke up with him, didn’t you?”
“No.”
“Come on, Denise. He asked you to come back to him.”
Silence.
“Was he seeing another woman?”
Denise’s cheeks flared. “Why must everyone always think that? Just because he was a hopeless flirt doesn’t mean that he chased every skirt in town.”
“Wasn’t that his reputation?”
“He wasn’t seeing anyone else, okay?”
She was interrupted by the sound of the door chimes. Grace looked up to see Chief Nader. His face was as solemn as ever as he removed his hat.
He looked from one to the other. “Ladies.”
“What can I do for you, Josh?” Denise asked.
The chief turned to Grace. “Would you excuse us, Miss McKenzie? This is police business.”
“Of course.” Grace started to walk around the counter, but Denise stopped her.
“Grace stays.”
The chief didn’t fight her. “As you wish.”
She drained the last of her Starbucks and tossed the cup into a wastebasket. “Are you bringing me good news?”
“Maybe. I came to let you know that a dozen or so residents have started a petition, calling for a new investigation in the murder of Steven Hatfield.”
“I’d call that good news, and I can’t say that I’m surprised. You’re the only one who believed that Fred was guilty.” She folded her arms. “Are you going to do it? Start a new investigation?”
“I might look into their reason for the request.”
“And what’s that?”
“They suspect that Steven was having an affair with someone else, someone other than you, Denise.”
Grace threw a quick glance in Denise’s direction and saw her pale.
“Is that true?” the chief asked.
“No, it’s not,” she said with the same conviction she had showed earlier. “Believe me, I’d know.” She moistened her lips. “Are the petitioners basing their suspicion on anything specific?”
The chief shook his head. “Just Steven’s reputation in general. They believe that he may have dumped another woman and in so doing, gave her a motive for murder.”
Denise laughed. “The
woman scorned
theory? Isn’t that a little melodramatic?”
“The other theory is that you found out about the affair and killed Steven in a fit of jealousy.” He watched her closely as he spoke.
“Chief!” Grace moved close to Denise, showing her support. “How can you say something like that? For all you know, that petition could have been started out of pure vindictiveness toward Denise.”
“I realize that Denise is not very popular amongst the townsfolk, but nonetheless there are enough names on that sheet of paper to warrant an investigation into the love life of Steven Hatfield.”
“Go ahead and investigate all you want,” Denise said. “My conscience is clear. And for the record, I stand by my earlier statement. I was here, at Baubles, until seven the night Steven was killed.”
“In that case, you have nothing to worry about, do you, Denise?”
“Who’s worried?”
They held each other’s gaze for a few seconds. Then, when the chief couldn’t think of anything more to say, he put his hat back on and walked out.
When he had disappeared, Grace turned to Denise, whose color was slowly returning. “What was that all about?” she asked.
Denise shrugged. “Oh, you know the chief, always grandstanding.”
“It was more than that this time. He came to warn you, Denise.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. I know it and more importantly, the chief knows it.” Grace lowered her voice. “What’s going on, Denise? Tell me. I might be able to help you.”
“Nothing is going on.”
“I don’t believe you. You’re hiding something, and whatever it is, you’re not handling it well at all, so why don’t you confide in me? Isn’t that what friends are for? Helping each other?”
Denise took her time rearranging the small racks on the glass counter. She moved a ring to where a bracelet had been, then picked up a necklace and hung it on the other rack. Grace didn’t hurry her. Some secrets were harder to share than others.
“You can’t tell anyone,” she said at last. “And that includes Matt.”
“Does it have anything to do with Steven’s murder?”
“I won’t say another word until you promise.”
“All right, I promise not to tell anyone.”
Denise stopped playing with the display. “He
was
seeing someone else.”
Grace kept her expression blank, remembering another time, another place. Same man. “How did you find out?”
“I followed him one day after his last class.” She looked up, her eyes burning hot and angry. “I hated him for making me do that, for turning me into this jealous shrew I despised.”
The outburst took Grace by surprise. She would have never guessed that Denise was capable of such rage. “Where did he go?” she asked.
“The cottage, where she was waiting. The son of a bitch didn’t have the decency to take her to a hotel. He had to screw her right there, in the same bed he shared with me. Can you believe it?”
Yes, she could. “Who was the woman?”
Denise drew a long breath. “Lucy.”
There was a moment of stunned silence during which Grace could only stare at Denise, who was looking at the ring on her hand. “Are you sure?” she asked after a while.
“Her car was there, hidden from the road. Like the masochist that I am, I waited, hidden behind the bushes until she came out. I had almost convinced myself that her visit to the cottage was completely aboveboard. Steven often helped his students after school, although he had never had one come to his home before.
“When the door opened, I realized what a fool I had been.” Tears ran down Denise’s cheeks but she made no attempt to wipe them off. “Lucy looked so happy, so fulfilled, I knew their relationship was a lot more than what I had hoped.”
“Judging from that expensive trinket under the counter, you must have confronted Steven.”
“That same night. Do you know what he told me?’ She took a tissue from the box behind her and blew her nose. “He told me that she didn’t mean anything to him. She was just a passing fancy, a kid who made him feel young and vital. He was so callous, and I was so angry at the way he talked about Lucy, I could have…” She stopped and dabbed her eyes.
A cold knot formed in the pit of Grace’s stomach.
I could have killed him.
Was that what she had been about to say?
“Did Lucy know about you and Steven?” Grace heard the catch in her own voice as she spoke.
“Not until I told her, a couple of days later. I love that girl as if she were my own flesh and blood, Grace, and the thought of hurting her was killing me, but I couldn’t bear to see her waste her innocence on a creep like Steven Hatfield.”
“How did she take it?”
“Not well. She called me a liar, and she accused me of trying to break her and Steven up. When she finally realized that I was telling the truth, she went nuts, yelling and calling him names. I couldn’t believe it. If I had known what this would do to her, I would have kept my mouth shut. When she left my shop, she was fit to be tied. That’s why I stayed behind that night—not to work, like I told the police, but to pull myself together, and to prepare myself for Fred’s fury. I was sure that Lucy had run straight home to tell him about me and Steven. As it turned out, she wasn’t the one who told him.”
“Was Lucy there? At the house?”
Denise looked away. “No.”
“Where was she?”
“I don’t know.”
“You didn’t try to find out?”
“No, Grace, I didn’t try to find out, okay?” she said sharply. “I had other things on my mind, like the police taking my husband away in handcuffs.”
“I’m just trying to help.”
“I know.” Her shoulders sagged, and a sob rose from her throat. Suddenly unable to hold her anguish any longer, she covered her face with her hands and burst into tears.
Heartbroken, Grace walked around the counter to comfort her. “Don’t cry, Denise. Lucy will be all right. She’ll rebound. She already has.”
Denise’s sobbing continued.
“Is there something else? Something you haven’t told me?”
Denise raised her head. Her eyes were red and blotchy, her cheeks soaked with tears. When she spoke again, she sounded utterly broken. “I think Lucy killed Steven.”
G
race stared at Denise in total disbelief. She had a sudden flashback of Lucy at the kitchen sink, washing lettuce, making conversation, laughing. She was too young, too sweet, too innocent to have committed such a vile crime.
“I can’t imagine her killing anyone,” she said.
“I didn’t want to believe it either, but that night, when she finally came home and I had to tell her that Steven had been killed, she had no reaction.” She met Grace’s gaze. “She was like a statue, very still and very quiet, as if I had just announced the death of a total stranger.” She shivered. “It was spooky.”
“She could have been in a state of shock.”
Denise shook her head. “Earlier, you wondered why I hadn’t asked her where she was? I lied to you. I did ask her. In fact, that was my first question.”
“What did she say?”
“That she was driving around, trying to calm down before she went home.”
“People do that when they’re upset.”
“They don’t walk in looking white as a ghost, disheveled and trembling.”
“She’s just a child, Denise. You can’t expect her to control her emotions the same way we do.”
“She had access to her father’s gun. She’s a first-rate target shooter, and she was insanely angry.”
“So were you.” The words came out without warning.
“Except that
I
didn’t kill Steven. I wanted to, but I didn’t.”
“Couldn’t that theory apply to Lucy as well? Just because she
could
have killed Steven, and may have wanted to, doesn’t mean that she did.”
Denise didn’t reply.
“Do you want my feelings about all this?” Grace asked.
An encouraging nod.
“Talk to Matt. Have a family powwow—you, Lucy and big brother, and lay your cards on the table.”
“I don’t know, Grace. If it was anyone but Matt, I might have considered taking that route, but he and I aren’t what you’d call close.”
“You told me yourself he was good at solving problems.”
“He is.”
“Then put your differences aside for a moment, and talk to him. Don’t try to handle this burden on your own. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” She gave Denise’s shoulder a little shake. “Do you trust me?”
“You know I do.”
“Then listen to me and talk to Matt.”
“Talk to Matt about what?”
Grace and Denise looked up as Matt entered the shop.
He looked from one to the other, eyebrow raised. “That
was
my name you mentioned, wasn’t it?” he asked Grace. “Or is there another Matt in town I don’t know about?”
Grace remained silent. She had promised Denise to keep her secret and she would not betray her.
“Grace has nothing to do with any of this, Matt. I’m the one who was doing all the crazy talking.”
“Are you in trouble, Denise?”
“Here you go again,” she said irritably. “Assuming the worst about me. Couldn’t you, for once, give me the benefit of the doubt?”
A born gentleman, Matt inclined his head. “You’re right and I’m sorry.” He pointed at a stool against the wall. “May I?”
Denise shrugged. “You might as well make yourself comfortable.”
“That bad, huh?” He winked at Grace before focusing his attention on Denise. “Can I help?”
“Maybe.” She cleared her throat and began to tell Matt everything she had told Grace a few moments ago. Matt’s expression didn’t change until he heard about Lucy’s affair with Steven. For a moment, he looked as if he was about to spring out of his chair and drag Steven out of his grave, but somehow he managed to keep a tight rein on his emotions and allowed Denise to go on with her story.
“Thank you,” he said when she was finished. “Thank you for wanting to protect Lucy. And for being candid about your own feelings as well.”
Grace stood up. “I think the two of you should be alone.”
“No.” Denise laid a hand on her arm. “Please stay.” She looked at Matt. “It’s okay, isn’t it? I wouldn’t be talking to you right now if it weren’t for Grace.”
“She’s right,” Matt said to Grace. “Please stay.” He waited until she had sat down again before continuing. “I don’t want to believe that Lucy is a murderer either, but I’ve seen too many unexpected developments in my career to think that my own family could be any different.”
“What are you going to do?” Denise asked.
“I have no other choice but to talk to Lucy. If the outcome turns out the way I hope it will, we’ll proceed to phase two.”
“We?” Denise glanced at Grace, who still hadn’t said a word.
“In order for me to find Steven’s killer, I’m going to need your help.”
“You want me to help you
investigate
the murder?”
He smiled. “I wouldn’t go as far as that. What I need at this point is for you to recall as much as you can about Steven’s personal life, his habits, his hobbies, what he did with his free time, that sort of thing.”
“He didn’t have many hobbies. He liked to travel abroad, eat in fancy restaurants, attend gallery openings and art shows. Occasionally he played a round of golf with his buddies on the planning board, but that’s about it.”
“Did you ever notice anything out of the ordinary?”
Her earlier excitement seemed to deflate. “I’m not a very good observer, Matt.”
“Try, Denise. It’s important.”
She was silent for a while. Just when Grace thought it was hopeless, she said, “Actually, there was something I found a little odd about Steven, and that was his sudden friendship with Bernie Buckman. When I asked him about it, all he said was that Bernie was a good guy and he enjoyed spending time with him. I had no reason not to believe him.” She brushed a few crumbs from the counter. “Now that a cold-blooded murderer is trying to kill Bernie, I’m not so sure.”
“The man who runs the spice shop across the street from the gallery says that Bernie worked there a couple of days a week.”
“That’s true. He had started to show an interest in art, and Steven sometimes let him fill in for him on weekends.”
“When exactly did you and Steven start getting involved?”
Grace could see that the question made Denise uncomfortable, but like the trooper she was, she answered it anyway. “Eight, maybe nine months ago.”
“He must have told you a lot about himself during that time.”
“Not really. Actually, I told him more about myself than the other way around.” She threw him a quick, almost guilty glance. “I told him about Felicia.”
“You talked to him about your sister’s disappearance?”
She nodded, but wouldn’t look at him. “He seemed interested, so I told him how my family and I were never completely satisfied with the police investigation. I’m sorry, Matt,” she said, finally looking up. “I know your father says he did his best to find her, but we felt that he could have done more. And in case you’re wondering if I’m speaking behind his back, Fred and I have had this conversation before—many times, in fact. He knows exactly how I feel.”
Grace glanced at Matt, hoping to see a glimmer of understanding, but he showed no reaction. He was all business. “You said that Steven seemed interested in your sister’s disappearance?”
“Maybe
interested
is not the right word. He was supportive, and compassionate. Then, a few weeks later, out of the blue, he started asking me more questions about the case. I was only too happy to oblige, so I told him everything he wanted to know—who Felicia had dated, the circumstances of the breakups, the county-wide search, the questioning of witnesses, everything I could think of. Talking about Felicia in such detail hurt a little but in a way, it was therapeutic.”
“Did you ask him why the sudden concern?”
“I did and he brushed me off, claiming he was just curious.”
“Steven did have a curious nature,” Grace said. “He was more than curious, actually. He had a habit of meddling into other people’s business that occasionally got him into trouble. He was very much like his mother in that respect.”
“You think he found out something about my sister’s disappearance?” Denise asked Matt.
“It’s possible.”
“But if he had, he would have told me.”
“Not necessarily,” Grace interjected. She looked at Matt, who gave a slight nod.
Denise looked from one to the other. “What’s going on between you two? Why the looks? What do you know that you’re not telling me?”
“I found some money at the cottage,” Grace said.
“Money? As in cash?”
“A quarter of a million dollars in hundred-dollar bills was hidden in his kitchen cabinet.”
Denise was too smart not to grasp the implications of what she had just heard. She looked at Matt “You don’t think that money came from the forgeries, do you?”
“No,” he said quietly.
Her hand went to her throat. “Blackmail,” she whispered.
Then, as if a spring had just activated her, she jumped from her stool. “Dear Jesus! He knew who kidnapped Felicia!”
