Chapter Eighteen
I was angry on Jessica’s behalf, and more than a little confused about why she hadn’t mentioned this important detail when she came to me for help.
If she’d mentioned knowing about the affair on top of the worrisome incidents, I might have given different advice, but instead, she insisted she didn’t really know why someone might want to kill her.
Except she did.
She’d known the two people closest to her, in marriage and in blood, were betraying her.
Not only did they to lie to her but their questionable morals extended to firing an employee in order to conceal their shameless behavior.
Trashing Tilly’s reputation with a lie spun the narrative that she couldn’t be trusted, ensuring Joel and Yvette’s betrayal would not be believed.
“They really thought they’d pulled the wool over Jessica’s eyes,” said Lily, a hint of seething fury in her voice.
“Perhaps she wasn’t the only one,” I said, contemplating Tilly’s version of the events as we headed back to the farm. “Jessica knew and she said nothing.” A lightbulb popped on in my head, something making sense now. “How do you feel about a drive into the city?” I asked.
“You must really need a good coffee.”
“That, and I had an idea about where Jessica might have gone the morning she died. If I’m right, it’s imperative we get the full facts now.”
“Pedal to the metal,” cried Lily, pointing ahead as we sailed past the turn to Ashgrove Farms and headed toward New Montgomery.
I filled Lily in as we drove about what I’d seen when I’d checked out the location of Jessica’s coffee run. It felt like a long shot but the “what if” nagged at me.
Jessica had learned a devastating secret.
What if Jessica had put a plan into play? A plan she didn’t tell me, or anyone else, about?
What if someone discovered that plan and that was the reason she was now dead?
Downtown was teeming with traffic and pedestrians, leaving me to circle twice past the coffee shop Jessica visited before I gave up and parked a couple of blocks away. We hopped out and walked back and I pointed out the coffee shop where Jessica had purchased her coffee.
Lily raised her eyebrows. “There’s nothing special about that place,” she said. “The coffee isn’t even that good but they do a great cronut. Ruby buys them and brings them to the bar for our breaks.”
“I love a cronut.”
“Who doesn’t? I’m sixty-five percent baked good.”
“What’s the other thirty-five percent?” I wondered.
“Pure mama adrenaline.” Lily paused, considering that. “Maybe that’s twenty-five percent. These past couple of nights of sleep have recharged me. I feel like a new woman.”
“What is the remaining ten percent comprised of now?”
“Rage.”
“I’ll get you a cronut,” I said decisively, although I understood how Lily felt.
Rage at the injustice of my client’s case was whirling inside me like a teeming mass.
I’d need to calm down before I returned to the farm in case I punched my suspects in the nose.
I didn’t want to do that. Not that they didn’t deserve it, but I wanted to gather all the evidence I could before I turned them over to MPD.
The best way I could avenge Jessica was with a watertight case.
“We should get two, and then think about lunch,” said Lily.
Before we headed to the café, I pointed out the several businesses I’d seen on my first visit here.
The banks, accountants, and lawyers could all deal with matters related to Jessica’s life.
I could strike off the hair salon and takeout places and the home and clothing shops.
That left the pharmacy and post office as possible options too.
“We know Jessica went to get a coffee to go for the drive home but she must have gone somewhere else too. There had to be a reason for her driving all the way to the city.”
“Did she pick up lunch?”
I shook my head. “No, I would have seen the boxes or a bag in her car and Garrett would have listed them. She might have posted something, or picked up a prescription. More likely though, she went to the accountants or the lawyers. We know she knew about her husband and sister’s affair…”
“Every time you say that, I cringe,” said Lily, her nose wrinkling with distaste.
“Same here. I think we try both offices and see what happens. Perhaps the accountants do her business paperwork, or maybe she spoke to a lawyer about a divorce. We need to see what both businesses specialize in and figure it out from there.”
“Agreed. Right after we get those cronuts.”
“Okay,” I consented, and we made a beeline for the café. Two coffees and two napkin-wrapped cronuts — one chocolate pretzel, one raspberry fizz — later, dividing them in half so we could share, and I was ready to resume investigating.
The accountants’ office was closest so we headed there first. They occupied the second story of a three-story walk-up and I jogged up the stairs, Lily on my heels. The door was etched with “Johnson Webb Accountants: Tax Specialists.”
“Hello,” said the receptionist brightly as we entered a small waiting area. It held only a desk and twin chairs and a large potted palm in a terracotta pot. “Do you have an appointment?”
“We don’t,” I said. “I was hoping to speak to my friend, Jessica’s accountant.”
“Would that be Gary, Laverne, or Hannah?” asked the receptionist.
“Oh, gosh, I don’t remember. Do you remember?” I asked Lily.
Lily shook her head. “I don’t remember Jessica saying. She just said we should come here and talk to an accountant about our business.”
“I’ll find out. Give me a moment,” said the receptionist. “What’s your friend’s name?”
“Jessica Casey.”
“Okay, then.” She turned to her computer monitor, tapping at the keys. After a long moment, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. We don’t have any Jessica Casey listed as a client.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Maybe it’s under her business name, Ashgrove Farms?”
The receptionist nodded and renewed her search but a few seconds later, shook her head again. “No, we don’t have any Ashgrove Farms listed either. Are you sure you have the right accountants’ office? There’s another one down the street that we sometimes get mixed up with.”
“I’ll check,” I said. “Sorry to have wasted your time.”
“We should have checked before we came,” said Lily, turning to the exit.
“I can probably squeeze you in if you need a consultation now?” said the receptionist.
“We have another appointment to get to,” I said, purposefully looking at my watch.
“Well, take a card and call when you want to talk about your taxes. We pride ourselves on making filing taxes as easy on our clients as possible.” She leaned over the desk to press business cards into our hands, chatting away about how nice the accountants were and how they gave a discount to new clients.
“They were so nice, I might consider them for my bar’s business accounts,” said Lily. “Lawyers’ office next?”
“Let’s go.”
The lawyers were on the other side of the street. We headed for the crosswalk and waited for the lights to flash green before crossing with the other waiting pedestrians. I dodged a twin stroller and took a sip of my coffee while Lily checked her phone for Jord’s update on Poppy.
When we headed for the law office, I wasn’t surprised to see the firm name listed alongside “Family Law.” I pointed it out to Lily and she nodded sagely. “I wish Jessica had taken Joel for everything he had,” she said. “Life is so unfair.”
“We don’t know if she came here yet. She could have been making an appointment at the salon.” But my gut feeling told me otherwise. I pushed open the glass door and we entered a large reception area with a walnut concierge desk at the far end.
“May I help you?” asked the receptionist, a young man who looked fresh out of school.
I repeated my ruse about my friend recommending the firm but that I couldn’t remember the lawyer’s name and he nodded. “I can’t confirm any client’s names or their lawyer’s details, unfortunately. You never know who’s asking,” he added, knowingly. “Can you call your friend and confirm the name?”
“She’s not available today,” I said, my shoulders slumping.
“I really need a lawyer,” said Lily, her jaw wobbling as she clasped one hand on the desk, steadying herself. “I’ve had a rough week.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” said the young man. “Can I get you a glass of water?”
“Her husband ran off with a floozy,” I lied.
“It’s such a common position to be in,” sympathized the receptionist.
“The floozy is her niece,” I added.
“She is,” said Lily. “I used to babysit her and now she’s run off with my husband!”
“Our friend had something similar happen,” I said. “That’s why we came here.”
“I wish I could…”
I spied a plush dog toy on the desk, just tucked out of the way. “They stole her dog,” I cut in.
The receptionist cast an appalled glance at Lily. “They stole your dog?”
“Poor little Pumpkin never goes anywhere without Lily! Can you imagine? That tiny, little dog… do you have a tiny, little dog?”
“My mom breeds Pomeranians,” said the receptionist.
“Do you love them?” asked Lily.
“For sure. They’re gr—“
“Pumpkin is a Pomeranian,” I cut in. “Can you imagine her crying out for Lily? Unable to get to her? Wondering why Lily no longer wants her?”
“Well, I—”
“Her floozy niece is going to put Pumpkin in a doggy bridesmaid dress and make a feature of her in their wedding,” I continued dramatically. “They’re not even divorced!”
“It’s just awful,” sobbed Lily.
I leaned in to whisper dramatically, “The wedding will be at their house. They threw Lily out like she was nothing!”
“They stole your dog and your house?” The receptionist’s eyes widened.
“She stole my life!” wailed Lily, “and evicted me! I have nothing! Not even my dog.” She leaned over the desk, sobbing.
“What’s your friend’s name?” he asked, reaching for the keyboard.
“Jessica Casey,” I said promptly.