Chapter 34
Tori followed Donna from her boss’s office down another hallway and waited while the secretary unlocked the first door on the right.
“The police went over the office—took them two days, so I don’t think you’ll find anything new.”
“I mostly want to get a feel for Jenny.”
“She was a good person.” Donna checked her watch. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.”
“Thanks.” She hesitated. “I shouldn’t be long here . . . Hey, would you like to join me for lunch?”
Donna tilted her head and raised a questioning eyebrow.
“I wanted to talk to you a little more about Jenny.” And the Livingston brothers. Tori gave her a hopeful smile. “I’ll be happy to buy your lunch.”
Donna hesitated, then shrugged. “I suppose it would be okay, although I don’t think I can add anything to what I’ve already told the sheriff.”
“I probably won’t ask the same kind of questions Ben asked. Where would you like to eat?” Somewhere quiet, preferably.
“Do you like Asian food?” When Tori nodded, Donna named a Japanese restaurant two blocks over.
“That sounds good. I don’t have my car. Would you want to walk with me?”
“I’ll meet you there. I need to run a couple of errands after we eat.” She handed Tori the key to the office. “I’ll be at my desk when you finish.”
Tori stepped inside the room and glanced around, startled to see a photo of Zack, Beth, and Drew on Jenny’s desk. She’d known they were close, but Tori hadn’t expected Jenny would have their photo on her desk.
She swept her gaze around the rest of the room, noting it hadn’t had the same update as Richard’s.
Pine paneling gave the room a dark vibe, and the books on the bookshelf looked like the same ones that had been there when Tori worked at the company.
At least the red curtains were gone, replaced with plantation blinds, and the paintings were similar to the ones hanging throughout the building.
Something about the room bothered Tori. She scanned it again, trying to put her finger on the problem.
Then she saw it. Jenny had spent at least eight hours a day in this office, five days a week, for eight years, and other than the photo, there was not one thing that said anything about who Jenny Tremont was.
Why hadn’t she put her stamp on the room? Curious. Tori opened the file cabinet and flipped through the few files in the drawers. Nothing there. Evidently she did everything online.
Tori sat in the leather chair, imagining herself as Jenny.
There would probably be a spreadsheet on the computer screen.
She jiggled the mouse, and the screen came to life, requiring a password to access the files.
A password she didn’t have. Did Donna know what it was?
Tori would ask when she returned the key.
She opened the side drawers in the desk. Everything was neatly organized, pens, notepads, paperclips . . . just like she would expect of an accountant. Tori frowned. Except there were no snacks in the desk—who worked without snacks?
Tori tried to open the bottom drawer. Locked. If Ben’s deputies had searched the desk, why didn’t they leave the drawer unlocked? Should she try to get it open? Richard had given her permission to look through the office . . . which included the desk . . .
Using the bobby pin from her hair, she jiggled the lock open. A folder lay in the bottom, and she picked it up. Ancestry Line was on the label. Tori had heard of the DNA testing company.
She opened the folder. Inside was a printout of a receipt and a website along with a sheet of paper.
Evidently Jenny had submitted her DNA to the site.
Tori examined the paper that was mostly doodling.
Daisies, a sketch of a cat, Mother = HT.
Father = HP? A little lower she’d written Aunt with a question mark.
Her heart rate kicked up a notch. She drummed her fingers on the paper, wishing there was a report, but it would be on the website.
There wasn’t time to look up the site, and while she had her account number, she didn’t have Jenny’s username and password.
She snapped photos with her phone. When she picked up the folder to return it to the desk drawer, a note fluttered out.
Looked like it might be the username and password. She quickly photographed the paper.
“Excuse me, but what are you doing in Jenny’s office?”
Tori gasped and jerked upright. She tensed even more when she saw that the demanding voice came from Valerie Livingston, Eli’s mother . . . and Richard’s ex.
“You startled me,” Tori said. She stuck the note in the folder and laid it in the drawer. Then she took a breath to calm her nerves. “Good to see you again.”
The woman barely nodded. “You didn’t say what you’re looking for.”
“Nothing in particular,” she said lightly. “I’m just trying to get a feel for who Jenny was.”
Valerie snorted. “You won’t find it here. She came in and worked her eight hours and went home. You aren’t inserting yourself in Jenny’s case, are you?”
Like she had Huey Prescott’s case? Hostility oozed from the woman’s pores. “If you’re referring to Huey Prescott, what’s your problem with an innocent man being set free?”
The look she gave Tori said it all, even if she was too refined to voice it. “You seriously have no idea how much trouble you’ve stirred up for the Livingston family with this Prescott case?”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
Valerie fisted her hands on her hips. “Every member of the family except Eli and Stephanie will come under scrutiny for Walter’s death, and the company will take the hit.”
“You believe his killer lives in Logan Point and has something to do with Livingston Oil Corporation?”
Valerie’s breath hitched. “I never said that. I have no idea who killed him. But now the whole sordid mess will be reopened.”
Tori shook her head, trying to clear it. “What part of the case qualifies as sordid? My research didn’t find anything that would tarnish Walter Livingston’s reputation.”
“We all have our secrets,” she said softly. “Even you, Tori Mitchell.”
Her cold words sent a shiver down Tori’s back. “That’s where you’re wrong, Valerie. I’m an open book.”
“Really? You seemed awfully cozy with Scott Sinclair last night.”
“I barely know the man. We were simply having a cup of coffee.”
Valerie glared at her. “Why don’t you go back where you came from?”
“I will as soon as Jenny’s murderer is found.”
“I hardly think Ben Logan needs your help to solve the case.”
“I’m not trying to help him, just looking for someone other than my nephew as a suspect.”
“I heard he was a person of interest.” She turned to leave.
“Do you know anyone who would want Jenny dead?” Tori called after her.
Valerie turned around, a sly smile on her face. “I can think of at least one. Stephanie. She and Jenny had words the day she died. I told Ben Logan about it, but I see he hasn’t arrested her yet.”
“I think he has to have a little more motive than an argument.”
“We’ll see.” She pursed her lips. “Oh, and don’t get any ideas about Eli. You blew your chance with him a long time ago.”
Tori dug for a reply, but she came up empty. It was probably for the best. Women like Valerie Livingston had to have the last word.
Valerie gave Tori a fake smile. “Nice to see you again.”
“I’m not interested in your son,” Tori said to Valerie’s retreating back in spite of her resolve, then she clamped her mouth shut to keep from saying more. Why in the world did she let the woman get under her skin?