Chapter Thirty-One
Thirty-One
We found ourselves face-to-face with Detective Kim for the second time in less than an hour, and he seemed even less thrilled about it than we were. We sat in the library where we had just recently grilled Audrey—who was being questioned in the office by Detective Martin—and there was a chilly silence in the room.
I didn’t think I’d felt quite so small under someone’s piercing stare since my father had caught me sneaking in two hours late after curfew when I was sixteen.
I half expected Detective Kim to say he wasn’t mad, he was just disappointed, because that was precisely what his stare was saying to me.
“I just want to ask you what you two heard when you left the police station. Because I know what I said , and I feel like perhaps we have two different interpretations of what my words were.”
“We didn’t go looking for Melody or Deacon,” I offered.
“I don’t know if minor details are going to help much in this case, Ms. Winchester. I asked you guys—nay, I told you—to stay out of this investigation and let us do our jobs. I don’t think revisiting the scene of the crimes to interrogate a witness is staying out of it.” He pivoted his attention to Rich. “You should know better than this, Rich.”
“I didn’t see the harm. And if we’re being honest, it’s unlikely you’d have found the items in the basement if we hadn’t come back.” He gave his old partner a pointed stare.
A long and painful silence drew out between them.
“Are you hoping I’m going to thank you?” Detective Kim asked.
“No. I’m just saying you guys can’t be everywhere and see everything. We’re not police, that’s true, but we’re also not the Scooby-Doo kids bumbling into answers. We found something useful.”
I was glad he was the one saying it and not me, because I didn’t think Kim would be as restrained with his responses if I were the one speaking. I could sometimes come across a little indignant.
“Well, I appreciate your . . . efforts,” Kim said sullenly. “I know you’re trying to help your friend. But from this point forward, I’m going to have to officially ask you to remove yourselves from investigating this case, or I will have both of you arrested for obstruction of justice. Am I clear?”
My mouth hung open.
“But Detective Martin asked me to—”
“I asked you to listen and observe, Phoebe.” Detective Martin had entered the room with Audrey trailing behind her. “I think we both know that I didn’t ask you to take on your own investigation.” She raised a brow at me, showing me she wasn’t impressed that I would use her name to defend myself.
She was right, I shouldn’t have thrown her under the bus like that, and my cheeks flushed hotly. I hated feeling like this, knowing I had misbehaved and was being called out for it. But every step of the way, what we’d done had been from a place of wanting to help. I’d wanted to help find justice for Sebastian out of a sense of guilt, and I’d wanted to find answers for Leo to keep him out of the cross hairs of the investigation.
This wasn’t the first time I’d been asked to mind my business about a murder, but it was the first time they’d threatened to arrest me if I didn’t. I had no defense for that, and obviously Rich didn’t either, because he said nothing.
Rich also wasn’t saying he would stay out of it.
“All right, you two can go now,” Martin said, keeping her tone even and level.
We waited until we were back in the car before speaking again, the patter of rain on the windshield one of the only sounds in the late afternoon.
“Say something,” Rich insisted, breaking the silence.
I considered my options. I thought about discussing what we’d just been told and asking him whether or not he planned to listen. But he had no personal stake in this investigation; he was just along for the ride to help me. If the police told him to stay out on threat of arrest, he would listen.
He’d been a cop once, after all.
“Do you think Deacon was there the whole time?”
Rich sighed, tapping his palms against the steering wheel and staring out at the rain. He wanted to give me a lecture, I could tell. But he was holding it back.
“It’s hard to say. They obviously checked the entire house after both murders, and there was no sign of him then.”
“If he was coming and going through that window, there’s no reason to think he wasn’t just grabbing his bag every time the police showed up and hightailing it out until the coast was clear. It’s pretty apparent no one knew that window was an access point.”
Rich nodded his agreement. “Point taken.”
“If he was sleeping there, that would explain how no one was able to find him at any of the other area hotels or during general sweeps. He had a safe place to hunker down and plenty of access to kill both Sebastian and Andrew.”
“I’ll admit this doesn’t look great for Deacon, but we also can’t ignore Melody’s connection to the lawyer. They were arguing not long before his death, and if an argument is reason enough for the police to look at Leo, it should be enough for them to think Melody might have something to do with the lawyer’s death. I just can’t figure out why she might want to kill Sebastian. Though the bank statement is compelling if it does prove she was stealing from him.”
“Oh, I have something for that,” I announced, and quickly told him about the news Connor had shared with me at the shop.
“Huh.” Rich ran his hand through his damp hair, creating a defined wave of curls that distracted me from our discussion for a few seconds.
“What if Melody and Deacon were working together?” I asked.
Rich frowned. “I could consider it if they were a couple or if they even passably liked each other, but from everything you’ve told me, the two of them couldn’t stand each other.”
“Maybe that was all a show for Sebastian and for this exact situation. So no one would think they could work together and everyone would write off the possibility. They both had motive, they both had opportunity.”
“For Sebastian. But not the lawyer.”
I rested my head against the headrest, staring up at the boring beige roof of Rich’s car.
“We shouldn’t even be talking about this, Phoebe. You heard Kwan. We’re out. We’ve told them everything we can, and they can come to these conclusions just as easily as we can. We have to let this go. You have to let this go.”
“I’m the reason Sebastian was here, Rich. If he hadn’t come, maybe he would still be alive right now.”
“You can’t think like that. If you’re right about Melody or Deacon, they both had reasons for wanting him dead. They might not be good reasons—there’s few cases where there are—but if they wanted to kill Sebastian, they were going to do it. It doesn’t matter where he was. You can’t blame yourself for this.”
Logically, I knew he was right, but logic and guilt were rarely friendly bedfellows.
“And you can’t blame yourself for Leo either. You had to tell the police what you saw; without your perspective they would have only gotten gossip. If anything, you helped them see what really happened there.”
“For whatever good it did.”
“It did plenty of good, I promise. He’ll be out of there in no time. Man, I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but I’d have loved to hear what Andrew said to Leo to push him over the edge like that. He can’t have just offered to buy the place. Other people have offered; Leo just sort of laughs them out the door and goes on with his day. If he was as mad as you say he was, then that guy really pushed some buttons. Makes you wonder what other buttons he might have pushed.”
Something popped into my head.
Something I hated and wanted to ignore.
I glanced over at Rich.
“Oh no. I know that look. We’re off this case, Phoebe. This is just discussion .”
“Rich, I want to go talk to Dierdre Miller.”
Of all the things I could have said to him in that moment—or any moment—I don’t think either of us ever expected those words to come willingly out of mouth.
“I’m sorry, you’re going to need to repeat that.”
“I’d like you to drop me off at Dierdre’s office.” I checked the clock on his car’s dash, confirming she was still likely to be there. It was only three, so I was confident that unless she was showing a house somewhere, she’d be in.
“What are you up to?”
“Do you actually want an answer to that question?” I smiled innocently.
“No, not if I want plausible deniability, I guess.”
“Smart man.”
“Never been accused of that in my life.”
He started the car, and we headed to Dierdre’s office. It was a mostly residential block, but there were three little offices in a business plaza at the end of the street. Dierdre, an accountant, and a dentist all shared the space adjacent to a tidy parking lot. I recognized Dierdre’s cute little red car, confirming she was in.
“You sure about this?” Rich asked, eyeing the office building through the rain.
“Dierdre’s not going to hurt me,” I scoffed.
“I’m not worried about that; I’m worried about you ending up in a cell right next to Leo.”
I swatted his arm.
“See, violent outbursts!”
“You think you’re funny and you’re not.”
“I’m hilarious. It’s one of the many things you love about me.”
We both paused at the drop of the l-word, and before the moment could stretch into something awkward, I leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
“One of many.”
I didn’t give him a chance to say anything, instead grabbing my bag and umbrella and ducking out of the car. I did hazard a quick look back as I got under the protective awning of the plaza, and even through the rain and across a parking lot I could see a goofy little grin on his face.
Oh, I was in so much trouble.
I went from smiley happy bliss to walking into Dierdre’s real estate office and seeing the woman herself.
My smile collapsed just as hers rose.
“Why, if it isn’t Phoebe Winchester. I never thought I’d see the day you might step foot in my office. What a treat. What brings you in?”
I was sure she was already calculating the windfall she could make in commission on selling my house.
“I was actually hoping I could have a quick chat with you.”
Our last two chats had ended with things floating all around the room and a coffee in Dierdre’s lap. I hoped that by coming to her of my own volition and being mentally prepared for it, I might be able to escape unscathed this time.
In truth, since my encounter with Eudora the previous night, I was still feeling at ease magically. I wasn’t cured yet, but I had a solution at hand, and just knowing that seemed to help. Placebo effect, possibly, but I wasn’t going to overthink it if it was working.
This would be a real test of that newfound peace. If anyone could trigger my fight-or-flight, it would be Dierdre.
“Sure thing, I’m free.” Her voice was sickly sweet, and I wondered if she was being so nice to me because I still hadn’t signed off on leasing the apartment to her nephew. I wasn’t really a vindictive person, and I wasn’t going to take out my dislike of Dierdre on her nephew, whom I hadn’t ever met before. But if she thought I might do that, I wasn’t going to tell her otherwise.
She invited me to a small sitting area at the front of the office.
“Dierdre, I had some questions about Andrew, the lawyer, and what his plans were here. You said he was working for a company, but what company? I don’t think anyone who’s mentioned him has said anything about that.”
Her expression shifted, and she looked a little green around the gills momentarily. “Oh, him. He told me his client wanted to keep their identity private until all the documents were signed.”
“Did anyone actually sell to him? Audrey at the inn said he came to her after leaving a different B and B when they declined to sell to him. We both know I wasn’t going to sell him anything. So was anyone actually interested in his offer?”
“He was only in town about three days before he . . .” Her voice drifted, and then she dramatically mimed a stabbing. “So he didn’t actually have an opportunity to close any deals.”
“To your knowledge, was anyone interested?”
She was quiet, and I imagined she didn’t want to admit that she didn’t have any deals in the pipeline, but she finally said, “I can’t speak to anything that was handled directly by him, but anyone I connected him to politely declined the offer.” She shuffled in her chair, now evidently uncomfortable. “Actually . . . I was in touch with someone in a real estate office over in Leavenworth, and Andrew had been there before visiting us. It sounds as though he didn’t leave many positive feelings in his wake. He agreed to terms with a B and B owner there, making them promises about how much money they’d make, and they signed a contract without having their own lawyer look it over. Apparently, the contract gave Andrew the right to sell their property to a large corporation at perceived value. They ended up getting pennies for their property, and because they’d signed a contract with Andrew to mediate the sale on their behalf, it was all legal. Scummy, but legal. It sounds like this is something he’s been doing all over Washington and Oregon. Usually he targets older folks, widows, people who just want to retire comfortably, and he basically steals their property out from under them. He seemed like such a nice man too. I’m ashamed to have believed him at face value.”
I was horrified but also not surprised. I hadn’t even heard what he was offering before declining outright, and part of that was because rents were more affordable in Raven Creek than they were anywhere else in the state. People could still manage to own their own businesses without losing their shirt. However, I found it interesting that there was so much secrecy involved with who he was working for. Leo had told me Andrew had implied that a major chain retailer would be involved in taking over the grocery store. And the gist of what I’d gathered from anyone who had interacted with Andrew was that he was making similar implications about turning their little B and Bs into name-brand spots. Now, based on what Dierdre had told me, it sounded like he was working for some corporation, because it was obvious that whoever had put him up to this had no scruples at all.
Nothing, and I mean nothing , will dissuade someone in a small town from accepting an offer like hearing their space will be turned into a chain.
“I guess no one here thought it was worth it, thank goodness,” Dierdre said, seemingly aware of where my mind was going. “It’s one thing to sell to someone who wants to keep things around here the way they are. It’s something else entirely to try to turn it into Disneyland. No one here wants a Starbucks on every corner; I think you know that better than anyone. I’m relieved no one was taken advantage of before . . . well, before he died.”
I nodded, though I found her stance funny when only days earlier she’d been urging me to buy in so I could pack my bags off the profits and move back to Seattle. “Don’t you think someone coming into this environment would know what the atmosphere would be like, though? Why would he lead with the idea that properties would be turned into cookie-cutter chains? It was like he wanted to fail. I don’t know what he said to Leo, but I have to imagine it was intentionally inflammatory. Leo just doesn’t get mad like that. The lawyer had to have goaded him into it by pushing all the right buttons.”
At this Dierdre rolled her eyes, and I worried she was about to launch into another monologue about Leo being a murderer. At which point I might become a murderer. She had that effect on me some days.
Instead, she said, “I will say in my dealings with him, he was very flashy about discussing money. He talked about how wealthy his bosses were, how connected they were, how this entire thing would help revolutionize the town and bring us into a new era of prosperity. It was all very lovely to hear, you know, like being on a first date where they tell you how beautiful you are.” She tossed her red hair over one shoulder, letting me know that she was very accustomed to being told how beautiful she was. “But there were some things I noticed on our subsequent meetings as he went through town.”
“Oh?” I wasn’t about to ignore this, because Dierdre was the kind of person who paid attention. She watched everyone and everything around her, and if something seemed a hair out of place, she was going to spot it.
“For one thing, his suit. He wore the same one each time we met.”
“That can’t be that unusual for someone who’s traveling. Who wants to pack a half dozen suits for a trip to a little town in the mountains?”
At this, she scoffed. “Phoebe, while you may not want to impress anyone with your wardrobe, that doesn’t mean everyone else is equally careless about their appearance.”
For a moment I wondered if I was still wearing my soaked ensemble from earlier that afternoon, but when I looked down, I confirmed I had on a nice pair of cinnamon-colored corduroy pants and a black short-sleeved blouse with Victorian lace details on the sleeves and collar. If anything, I looked dressed up compared to my usual tee-and-jeans uniform.
I let the barb slide off me, trying not to take it too personally. When I didn’t rise to her bait, Dierdre continued. “A man in that position should have at least two or three good suits with him at all times. He wore the same one to every meeting. I could tell because it kept getting more and more rumpled, like he wasn’t even bothering to iron or steam it every day.”
I was about to ask who traveled with their own steamer, but I was sure that would just make her call me a wrinkly disaster, so I let it go.
“And then there were his shoes.”
“His . . . his shoes?”
“Yes. Loafers.” Her nose wrinkled so fiercely that I wondered if she had smelled something bad, only to realize it was her opinion about loafers in general. I was happy in that moment to be wearing my Chelsea rain boots and not my usual loafers, because I wasn’t sure I would have survived the withering judgment.
“I’m sorry, what’s wrong with loafers?”
“Why nothing, if you’re a seventy-eight-year-old man with a time slot booked at the shuffleboard court. Or if you run a bookstore, I suppose.” There it was. “But a lawyer in the business of brokering multimillion-dollar details . . . loafers? Absolutely not. Shined oxfords. A classic brogue if you’re an especially elegant gentleman. But certainly not a loafer .”
I had absolutely no idea what any of the terms she had just used meant, but she said them with such conviction I had to believe her.
“So he had one suit and bad shoes. Maybe he wasn’t fashion forward. If he was busy running around for his clients, maybe he didn’t have time to shop.”
“Phoebe, my dear. The man wore Drakkar Noir cologne.” She raised a meaningful eyebrow at me, as if this final piece of her puzzle should explain beyond a shadow of a doubt what she was trying to convey, but I was at a loss. My snobbery didn’t cut as deep as hers.
She sighed, obviously frustrated by my stupidity. “He was poor ,” she declared. “He was not the lawyer of a wealthy firm. If you represent billionaires, you have to put yourself forward at the value they expect. No one doing business deals for a Fortune 500 company wears Drakkar Noir and loafers. A real lawyer wouldn’t need to trick people out of their money the way he was. And given how he was presenting himself, it sounds to me like he wasn’t particularly good at scamming people either.”
I suddenly understood what she was saying, and I was momentarily too shocked to give words to the thoughts.
She waited for me to speak, a smug little smirk at the corners of her lips.
“Dierdre, are you saying you think this guy was just a straight-up con artist?”
“I didn’t see it at first either, I must admit. He had a silver tongue, that one. And on the surface he had the right look. The Rolex was a nice touch. Probably a knock-off, but a good one. And when he pitched me the idea of an investment property portfolio, I had to admit that at first I was really intrigued. He certainly did his homework.”
“But he was a fake?”
“Well, he certainly wasn’t a lawyer for a major grocery chain or real estate mogul. I don’t know what he was actually here for, but I think it’s probably a good thing no one jumped when he made those offers. Or gave him any money for his investment schemes.”
Offers she herself had tried to convince me to take only days earlier. I bit my tongue hard to keep from mentioning that part.
Something else rang a bell in my mind.
Dierdre had said Andrew had been in Leavenworth before coming here.
Leavenworth had been the last stop on Sebastian’s book tour before he came to Raven Creek.
I somehow didn’t think that was a coincidence.