Chapter 13
Floyd caught up with her as an officer, a man Liz didn’t recognize, emerged, and for good reason. He was a Michigan State Police officer.
“Morning.” Floyd was the first to greet him.
“Good morning. I’m looking for Floyd and Elizabeth Rasmussen.”
“I’m Floyd and this is my wife, Elizabeth.”
“I’m investigating the death of Deanna Andretti, a local business owner who was well-acquainted with you.”
“Not that well-acquainted,” Liz corrected. “I’ve already talked to Sheriff Nelson and told him everything I know.”
“The state police are working alongside the Montbay County Sheriff’s Department to investigate Ms. Andretti’s death. I’m speaking with everyone who had contact with her leading up to that day.” The officer flipped his iPad open and tapped the screen. “Elizabeth Rasmussen and the deceased met to go over a potential project.”
“Correct,” Liz confirmed. “Floyd was there, as well as three of her colleagues and my sister.”
“Gloria Rutherford-Kennedy,” the officer said.
“Yes.”
“Mrs. Kennedy is also on my list to chat with. Although you spoke with Sheriff Nelson, I would like you to tell me about your meeting with Ms. Andretti on the day of her death.”
Liz briefly outlined the events, starting with Deanna’s arrival, pointing out how Andretti’s colleagues spent most of the time hovering off to the side. “They toured the property and then she gave me a written preliminary estimate. It went downhill from there.”
“Downhill?” the officer prompted .
“I’ll be blunt. Andretti was hinting at resurrecting an old matter.” Liz waved dismissively. “It was a frivolous lawsuit. I informed her we wouldn’t be using her services and asked her to leave.”
“How did she react?”
“She called me a few choice names.”
“Such as…”
“Money-grubber, trailer trash. I believe the word tramp was also thrown around. She was miffed when I rejected her ridiculously high prices.”
“Did you threaten Ms. Andretti?”
“No.”
“An eyewitness claims you threatened her.”
Liz tightened her grip on a wiggling Duchess. “By ordering her off my property?”
The officer tapped the screen again. “I believe your exact words were that she—Ms. Andretti—wouldn’t know the difference between Florida Frumpy and California Chic if it punched her in the face. Ms. Andretti appeared distressed and even questioned if you were threatening her.”
“I might have said something along those lines, but surely you can’t believe that was a threat to her life.”
“My Liz is as cool as a cucumber,” Floyd said. “It was a stressful day, and she was under duress. Punching someone in the face is not even close to strangling them with a curtain.”
“Let’s continue. You ordered her off the property, and then what happened?”
“She left. End of story.”
The officer pinned Liz with a stare. “You were caught on camera in front of Designer Diva’s store the same night.”
“But I never saw her again,” Liz argued. “I was in town. Curiosity got the better of me and I wondered if perhaps I hadn’t made a mistake. I got out of my SUV and walked to the front window. The place was closed. I thought I saw someone in the back and then I left.”
“You returned home?”
“No. I stopped by Hometown Designs, a business owned by Becky Kiefer, Ms. Andretti’s colleague, to discuss getting a quote from her. She left a card during the blowout…err…meeting between me and Deanna Andretti.”
“How did Ms. Kiefer appear?”
“She seemed fine, although I had only just met her,” Liz said. “I will say I was surprised to discover she worked alongside Andretti, yet owned her own design company.”
“What about the threat Deanna received?” Floyd asked. “I heard she got some sort of threatening note.”
The cop’s head shot up. “Who told you that?”
Floyd shrugged. “I heard it from one of my employees. Eric Andretti was an area farmer for a good many years. When someone dies, it’s not uncommon for rumors to fly.”
“This information is not publicly available. I’m not at liberty to comment.”
“Look.” Liz shifted her feet. “I’m sure Becky Kiefer can vouch for me. If I had strangled Deanna Andretti, I seriously doubt I would be in any frame of mind to stop by her place to discuss a project and then shop at the local grocery store.”
“If you don’t mind, I would like permission to look at your cell phone.”
Liz frowned. “What does my cell phone have to do with Deanna Andretti’s death?”
Floyd lifted a hand. “Do you have a search warrant?”
“Not yet.”
“Meaning you plan to get one,” Liz said.
“Possibly. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. ”
“I’ll go get it.” Liz hurried into the house and grabbed her cell phone. Back outside, she entered the access code and handed it to the cop. “I have nothing to hide.”
Liz and Floyd exchanged a nervous glance as the officer grew quiet. Finally, he handed the phone back to her. “Mr. Rasmussen, you knew the deceased.”
“I did. As I mentioned, Deanna’s ex-husband was a farmer. We were in the same line of work.”
“How long did you know her?”
Floyd thought about it. “Maybe ten years. Eric sold his farm a few years back, so I haven’t seen much of him lately.”
“And Ms. Andretti?” the officer probed. “How well did you know her?”
“About as well as I knew Eric. ”
“Yet you contacted her, out of the blue, to come to your recently purchased property to give you a quote for a major project?”
“Yes, because it needs a lot of work and I promised my wife we would fix the place up the way she wants it.”
“Did you ever date Ms. Andretti?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?” the officer probed.
“Positive. We were acquaintances, that’s all.”
“I have copies of Ms. Andretti’s cell phone records and texts. Your number has popped up several times over the course of the last few months.”