Death Loved A Woman (Happy Holloway Mystery Book 2) (10 page)

A
nnie hid
behind a column and peeked out at the three people standing together on the other side of the atrium. She strained to hear what they said, but the way the building was designed, sounds became distorted as they moved away from a person.

She scanned the area around her and bent down as if scratching her ankle. Then she shuffled along the floor a few steps until she was flush with the half wall. Her thighs and calves burned. The ankle boots Aunt Bridge had given her last Christmas were cute, but they weren’t the most comfortable for subterfuge.

Bare toes in high heels appeared in front of her, blocking her path. “May I help you, ma’am?”

Annie looked up into Ms. America’s suspicious eyes and stood. She grinned. “Um, no. I thought I lost my earring, but here it is in my ear. I actually have an appointment with Mr. Kelley.”

The woman didn’t look like she believed Annie. “Mr. Kelley’s office is one floor up.”

Annie knew this, but when she walked close to the atrium, a wide open area that expanded from the first floor of the building to the top, she had spotted Mr. Witman speaking with two other people, one of them being Mr. Kelley. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she walked down to the lower level to check it out.

“Thanks,” Annie said and scurried away to take the elevator. She so needed to exercise.

After making her way back to Mr. Kelley’s office, Annie spoke with his secretary and sat down to wait. She flipped through a magazine and decided which outfit looked better on which celebrity. Another magazine caught her eye about fall recipes, and she switched to that one.

So much for losing weight.

The door opened, and Percy Kelley strode in, rubbing his head with a handkerchief. Just how many did he run through in a day? Or was it the same one? The idea gagged her.

“Annie, glad to see your ankle is feeling better.” He grinned walking over to her and holding his hand out to shake. Annie stared at it in horror. She gripped the magazine tighter in both hands.

“How did you know I hurt my ankle?”

“I happened to notice as you were leaving the party the other night. Won’t you step into my office?”

He led the way, and Annie followed. Once she sat in Kelley’s office, she wondered what she would say to him exactly. Flynn wouldn’t like that she had ducked him again, but so be it. Annie liked to move when ideas struck her. She was convinced she could talk the attorney into giving them more to go on.

Kelley walked over to a tray at the corner of his office and poured coffee into a ceramic mug. He added cream and sugar and stirred the mixture. When he turned to face her, she was a bit taken aback that he didn’t offer her coffee, but he strode over and held the cup out to her. Now she blinked in surprise at the fact that he would assume she wanted the coffee and how she took it.

“Thanks.” She received the cup from the bottom with her fingers held together.

“Please, have a seat,” Kelley said and sat behind his desk. “What can I do for you?”

Annie sat down and placed the mug on the small table at her elbow. Kelley’s office was set up somewhat like a man’s private study. Deep burgundy and earth tones with the scent of sandalwood permeating the place. She liked it.

“Mr. Kelley, I’m not sure you know what’s been happening to Barbara Jean Stanford.”

His eyebrows rose. “Happening to her?”

“To put it bluntly, she’s being railroaded.”

“Oh, is she seeking legal counsel? Well, I can’t represent her because the Witmans are my clients, but I can certainly recommend a few good attorneys. If you’ll have her call me, I’ll be happy to pass along the information.”

His words sounded pleasant, and he smiled, but Annie saw the tightening of his fingers around the pen he picked up as soon as she mentioned Barbara Jean’s name. She also noted the slight irritation in his tone. He deliberately pretended he didn’t understand her meaning.

“She’s not looking to be represented. Then again, I suppose she would have to have a lawyer by now. That’s not my business.”

“But you’re here on her behalf.”

“I’m not here on her behalf per se. What I mean is, she might not have killed Wesley. Either way, there’s someone else who’s trying to make sure she never inherits his money. I understand you can’t reveal who stands to profit if Barbara Jean doesn’t get the money, but I hoped to stir you enough to share that information with the police if you think that person is guilty.”

He continued to smile. “In other words, you want me to betray my client’s trust.”

“If he or she is a murderer, yes.”

“Annie, if as you suspect, Mr. or Mrs. Witman committed this crime, do you really think they would tell me? Attorney-client privilege only goes so far. My conscious wouldn’t allow me to sit by knowing such a thing. Plus, I’d be afraid for my own life. This isn’t some TV drama.”

“I see your point.” She chewed her lip, thinking. “Can you tell me if there is someone who stands to gain by Wesley’s death? I don’t mean a name.”

He sighed. “I see you’re a very stubborn woman. It stands to reason, if a person passes, and they haven’t named a beneficiary, their next of kin inherits their estate. The next of kin would be Mrs. Witman. That’s public knowledge.”

Annie tried reading between the lines. She could gain nothing from Kelley’s expression. Other than that initial reaction, he closed off, giving her no clues. With a possible inheritance that would enable him to avoid a job the rest of his life, would Wesley neglect leaving a will?

If Wesley did leave a will, then he would have named who the money went to. That person wouldn’t want Barbara Jean to inherit, but it didn’t mean he or she would kill to inherit. Annie’s mind whirled with the possibilities. She tried hard to come up with a way to get Kelley to give her something more concrete and failed.

“Thank you for your time, sir.” She stood.

“Not at all, Annie. Listen, if you need representation at any time, I want you to feel free to contact me.”

“Sure.”

Annie left the attorney’s office disappointed. Maybe there was just no way to solve this case, and she should leave it to the professionals. After all, she couldn’t force Kelley to reveal any information like a subpoena could.

She left the office and walked out to her car. Perhaps she should butt out of the case for her own safety.

A
nnie turned
the corner of her street and slowed the car to a crawl when she spotted Barbara Jean walking down her driveway. A black car with tinted windows blocked where Annie needed to pull in. The man behind the wheel climbed out and opened the rear door for Barbara Jean, and she slid into the vehicle.

“Where is she going?” Annie muttered to herself. She pulled over to the side of the road and dug out her cell phone. With her attention half on the black car and half on the phone, she brought up Flynn’s number. She paused with her thumb over the button.

Curiosity ate at her. She chewed her bottom lip, tempted beyond belief. Should she follow or just call Flynn and let him chase after his friend? Maybe he already knew where she was going. No, Barbara Jean had looked around as if she hoped no one saw her before she entered the car.

You vowed to let it go, Annie.

She ignored the inner voice and followed the black car. “Okay, stay far enough back not to be noticeable but not so far you lose them.”

She didn’t expect whoever drove the car would recognize hers, but they might be trained to be observant. Annie had memories of Flynn being run off the road, so she had to be extra careful.

After half an hour, the other driver turned into a restaurant parking lot, and the driver cut the engine. Annie chose a spot several cars away and unbuckled her seat belt. She almost fell out of the car in her haste to get to the end of it and peer around to where Barbara Jean entered the restaurant.

She scoured her purse and came up with a knit hat with a brim in the front and a pair of dark sunglasses. She almost squealed with excitement as she scooted across the parking lot in her disguise.

The lighting in the restaurant took some time getting used to with the sunglasses, but Annie paused near the door, looking around. She soon spotted Barbara Jean sitting with a man whose back was turned to Annie. The waitress spoke to them both, and Barbara Jean must have put in an order for a drink.

“Just one?”

Annie started and noticed a waitress before her. “Yes, just me, and can you sit me over that way?”

She pointed, and the woman agreed. Annie coughed when the waitress walked too far, and she slipped into a vacant seat where she could see Barbara Jean’s face and just the side of the man’s head. Now she recognized him. What in the world was Barbara Jean doing having lunch with Mr. Witman?

The tables on either side of the couple were occupied, so Annie wasn’t close enough to hear their words. She kicked herself that she hadn’t chosen a table where she could see Mr. Witman’s expression, but she would have had to pass by them and Barbara Jean might have recognized her.

Annie leaned forward as Barbara Jean began gesturing and speaking animatedly. Mr. Witman sat calmly and listened, but when he banged a fist lightly on the table, Barbara Jean covered it with her hand. The seductive light in her gaze could be seen from space, Annie thought, shocked.

Barbara Jean tilted her head to the side and pouted. She said something to Mr. Witman. Annie waited for the man to pull away from her touch, but he didn’t. Were they seeing each other secretly?

While Annie lived just inside South Carolina in Amberlon, the others—Barbara Jean, Flynn, and Mr. Witman and his family lived in North Carolina. Barbara Jean and her lunch date had driven farther into South Carolina to meet. Plenty of good restaurants existed closer to home if they weren’t trying to hide.

“Would you like something to drink, ma’am?”

Annie looked up at the waitress. She had been toying with her silverware and hadn’t paid the menu any mind. “Diet cola,” she said.

The woman disappeared, and Annie focused on the couple again. Her cell phone rang, and she silenced it. Barbara Jean might recognize the melody after staying in Annie’s house for a short while.

“Hello?” Annie whispered.

“Jeez, Annie, why do you keep doing this?”

“Because I’m an independent woman. Plus, I’m tailing Barbara Jean.”

“What?” Flynn sounded surprised, so perhaps he didn’t know about the meeting.

“If you noticed me gone, why didn’t you notice her? Also, why are you home in the middle of the day?” She didn’t like how she chose home as if he really lived with her. Nor did she appreciate how her insides felt a bit warmer thinking he worried about her and not Barbara Jean.

Oh, Annie, you’re such an innocent.

“BJ was going to be my next call.”

“Drat.”

“I got off early and thought I would treat you two ladies to lunch. I found the house empty. Now, explain to me what you mean by you’re trailing BJ.”

“I’m not sure a lunch between the three of us would be a good idea.”

“Annie.”

“She’s meeting with Mr. Witman, and from what I can see they’re involved.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I’m not sure how to respond to that silliness.”

He groaned. “Okay, I know it’s possible with BJ. What I meant to say it’s improbable.”

“Her hand is right now covering his on the table, and she’s making googly eyes at him.”

“Googly?”

“Simpering? Smoldering? Where’s my thesaurus when I need it.”

“Where are you?”

“Oh, crap, I think I’ve been spotted, Flynn. I’ll have to call you back.”

Annie dumped money on the table even without taking a sip of her drink. She slid from the table and hightailed it to the exit. She made it all the way to her car before someone grabbed her arm and swung her around.

Mr. Witman stood before her, radiating fire and brimstone. All of a sudden, she easily believed this man could kill his own son if it met with his goals. Then again, it might be her fear giving her the impression.

“Oh, hey, Mr. Witman.” Annie flashed a friendly smile. “Imagine running into you here. It’s a small world.”

He frowned. “You’re that woman who attended my party.”

“That woman,” Annie repeated. “Yup, that’s me.”

His hold on her arm tightened. Panic began to rise as he took a step closer. “The fact that you know who I am means you could talk too much about what you think you saw.”

Annie’s eyes widened, and she tried breaking free of his hold. “No, I didn’t see anything.”

“I could make life very difficult for you. What’s your name again?”

Annie gave a nervous chuckle. “If you don’t know it, then I’m not in any danger, right?”

His expression darkened. “It’s easy enough to find out. You’d do better not to make a man like me angry.”

“Really, Mr. Witman. We’re in a public parking lot. There are any number of witnesses who can attest to you threatening me.” She tried to think up a name to give him but drew a blank.

Maybe he would back off if she could tell him something. Not even a character name popped into her head, and if he didn’t let go soon, she feared what would happen on her part. Mr. Witman making her life miserable scared her far less than mentally snapping for everyone to see.

He swore. “You think charges against me would ever stand? You’re more foolish than I thought.”

Annie’s vision blurred. He drew too close. Her throat began to close, and a scream bubbled to the surface. Beyond germs, the one thing Annie couldn’t tolerate were men touching her. The last time she snapped, Flynn had been there to help get her through it. He didn’t know where she was because she had ended their call before she could tell him.

She shut her eyes, hoping if she blocked him from view, it might help. That only unlocked her imagination to play games with her sanity. She struggled to swallow.

“Mr. Witman, what are you doing?” Barbara Jean’s voice.

Annie couldn’t believe Barbara Jean was coming to her rescue, but if she was his lover, then maybe she had a certain amount of influence over him.

“Let Annie go,” Barbara Jean insisted. Annie caught a bit of a tremor in Barbara Jean’s voice. She wasn’t as sure of the man as she tried to sound. “I might not like her, but she’s close to Flynn.”