Fatal Trust (15 page)

J.P. picked up the phone on the first ring. “I hear you’re
really a lawyer,” he said.

She grimaced. “I apologize for misleading you.”

“Yeah, well, normally people who lie to me end up having a
few problems. But you got a good excuse since you worked for Max Windsor.
Lawyers got to keep stuff confidential.”

“I appreciate your understanding,” Lexie said. “I assume
you’ve heard that Max was shot and Ben was arrested.”

“Yep. I thought people only died twice on soap operas,” J.P.
said. “Wife number two was a big fan of the soaps. You need money to bail Ben
out of jail?”

“He’s already out,” Lexie said. “I called because I’m
looking for information. I assume you have someone watching Dylan, since you
found out about the fight at the street dance. I was wondering if that person
noticed anyone outside Nevermore the night Max was killed.”

“Are you sure you aren’t asking whether maybe my spy found
out Max was alive, and I had him deep-sixed myself?” J.P. asked. “If he ain’t
dead, I don’t get my money.”

Lexie opened her mouth to deny it, and then closed it again.
She was sick of lying. “Okay, I’ll admit that crossed my mind.”

He chuckled. “Like I told you before, you got balls. The
short answer is I didn’t know Max was alive ’cause I got no one watching Dylan.
I don’t got enough men to do that. I heard about the fight ’cause one of my
guys has a sister who lives in Lakeview.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll ask around, see if I can find out anything,” J.P.
said.

“I appreciate it.”

“I gotta tell you, I don’t like lawyers. Then again, I’ve
never known one what could pass for an exotic dancer.”

“Thanks.” At least Lexie thought it was a compliment.

“I also got a word of warning for you,” J.P. said. “From
what I heard, it don’t look like whoever hit Max Windsor was a professional.
That’s bad news, because a professional ain’t gonna worry much about getting
caught. He’ll know he did everything right and won’t be. But someone else might
hear you’re nosing around and panic. So be careful.”

Lexie hung up the phone, the muscles in the back of her neck
even tenser than before she’d called J.P. She’d never considered that the
murderer might decide she was a threat. She’d definitely be careful.

Items 3 and 4 on her list involved taking advantage of the
small-town gossip network. Lexie went over to the closet and pulled out her
navy silk suit, then reconsidered. People would be more comfortable talking to
her if she didn’t look so much like a lawyer.

She glanced at the bag containing a skirt and tank top she’d
impulsively bought the same time she’d gotten her sundress and silver sandals.
She’d planned to return them—they were both solid colors, but red. Red was too
flashy to be worn other than as an accent color.

Although it was going to be warm today, and she’d accomplish
more if she was comfortable.

She took the skirt and tank top out of the bag.

Red actually was a flattering color for her, she thought as
she observed herself in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. She pulled
her hair back into a low ponytail and slipped on her brown sandals—wearing the
silver ones during the day would be too much of a stretch. Then she headed to
Lee’s Market.

The store was nearly deserted, and Ruth was working at the
front register. “I apologize for thinking you were an exotic dancer,” she said
when she spotted Lexie. From her cool expression and tone, she was
uncomfortable about her misconception.

“No problem. Why wouldn’t you believe it, when Ben confirmed
it?” Lexie gave her a warm smile.

It didn’t thaw Ruth. “I heard you’re still here because you
want to make sure the cops prove Ben’s guilty.” Her words were as hard and cold
as ice chips.

“I don’t think Ben’s guilty,” Lexie said. “I’m trying to
find out the truth so that whoever’s guilty doesn’t inherit from the trust. And
because I want Max’s murderer punished.”

“Because you’re a lawyer, and he paid your law firm a whole
lot of money.”

“Because I liked Max a lot,” Lexie said. “And because my
Aunt Jessica loved him, and I loved her.”

Ruth studied her with narrowed eyes for a moment. Then her
features relaxed, and she grinned, shaking her head. “Well, I’ll be. I can’t
believe I didn’t see it before, but you’ve got her eyes. Your aunt was a real
nice lady. I was a big fan of her books. More my type than Max’s are, to tell
the truth.”

“That’s why I’m trying to find the real murderer,” Lexie
said. “Not that I don’t have faith in your police—”

Ruth’s snort interrupted her. “Our police couldn’t find
their way out of one of these things,” she said, waving a tan-and-blue grocery
bag. “I’ve known Ben a long time, and he would never have hurt his
grandfather.”

“Do you know anyone in town who might have hated Max?” Lexie
asked. “I’ve assumed he was killed for a share of the trust, but maybe it’s
something completely different. Someone with a vendetta against him. Or maybe
someone thought Max used him in a book and resented it.”

“I can’t think of anyone offhand, but I’ll ask around,” Ruth
said. “I don’t know much about the family, other than Ben and Muriel. Muriel’s
having money problems.”

“I’ve heard.”

“When her husband was alive they were good members of Zion
Lutheran,” Ruth said. “Now she’s into everything, Catholic, Baptist, Methodist,
even that yoga and Buddhist stuff. She gives money to all of them, even though
she can’t afford it. Maybe because she’s got a guilty conscience.”

“Why would she feel guilty?”

Ruth leaned toward Lexie and lowered her voice. “Muriel came
home from a Circle meeting at church one afternoon and found her husband dead
of a heart attack. The thing is, she didn’t call an ambulance until four
thirty. But when Harold had his attack, he fell on his watch, and it stopped at
three forty-five, like in one of those mystery stories. According to a
neighbor, Muriel got home just after three. She said she didn’t go into the
house when she got home but instead walked around the neighborhood for more
than an hour, said that her Circle meeting gave her lots of stuff to think
about. But no one saw her walking, and people kind of wondered if she was in
the house when Harold had his attack and let him die. Not that anyone would
much blame her, since he wasn’t the nicest man. But it could be the reason for
all those contributions of hers.”

And if Muriel had let her husband die, would it have been
that much more of a stretch to kill her brother?

“Hi, Lexie. I mean Catherine.”

Lexie started as Seth stepped out of the aisle beside the
checkout and greeted her.

“Lexie’s fine,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

He followed her out the automatic glass door. “I saw you
come in and thought I’d try to talk to you. Since you aren’t staying at
Nevermore anymore.”

“About your grandfather’s murder?” Lexie asked.

“Actually I wanted to talk about your aunt.”

“Why?”

“Because she was such an important part of Grandfather’s
life. And no one seems to know much about their relationship.”

“To be honest, I don’t know much about their relationship,”
Lexie said. “I never saw them together. Not even when I was an adult and my
mother couldn’t forbid it anymore, which is kind of sad.” She’d never thought
of that before, but now that she had, she regretted it.

“Your mother disapproved of their relationship?” Seth asked.

“Look, I don’t know much, and I’m kind of busy today.
Sorry.”

She hated to be rude to anyone and especially to one of the
trust beneficiaries, but helping Seth document family memories for his kids
wasn’t her problem. Finding Max’s killer was.

She headed for The Clothes Garden.

Lexie had gone to The Clothes Garden on the assumption the
clerks probably heard a lot of gossip. She was right, but unfortunately she
didn’t learn anything helpful there. She did pick up more clothes, including a
pair of red fabric and straw sandals that coordinated nicely with her current
outfit. She put on the sandals, and then stopped at Dairy Queen for a burger
and fries before heading to Walt’s.

At just after noon, Walt’s had a half dozen customers—all
male—sitting at a couple of the tables. They stared at Lexie when she walked
in, but she ignored them, going directly to the bar. “I’ll have a glass of
white wine,” she told Walt. She usually didn’t drink before five, but she
thought she should order something.

“All we got is white zinfandel,” Walt said.

“Perfect.” Lexie detested white zinfandel, but no way was
she risking getting plastered on one of Walt’s concoctions.

“I heard you’re really a lawyer,” Walt said as he poured her
rose-colored wine.

She nodded. “I’m trying to find out who killed Max since I
don’t think Ben did. I assume you know a lot of what goes on in Lakeview.”

“You got that right.” Walt winked. “Including things people
would rather I forgot. But I don’t know anything about who might have killed
Max.”

“What are you doing here?”

Lexie turned to see Dylan walking up to the bar. “If you
mean in Lakeview, the trustee wants me to stick around a while, so I’m staying
at the Lakeview Inn,” she said. “I’m in Walt’s because I wanted to ask a few
questions. How about you?”

“I’m getting drunk. My usual, Walt,” Dylan said, then
returned his attention to Lexie. “I’m entitled, considering my grandfather’s
dead and they arrested the only decent member of my family besides my sister.”

“You don’t think Ben did it?’

“Of course he didn’t do it,” Dylan said. “He got along with
Grandfather better than the rest of us did. Plus he’s got money of his own.
Nowhere near as much as he’d get from Grandfather, but how much do you need in
a podunk place like this?”

“What about the guy you owe money to?” Lexie wasn’t about to
take J.P.’s word for his innocence. “Have you heard from him?”

Dylan shook his head. “Not since you gave me that message.
Maybe Jeremy and Olivia did it.”

“Together? Why would you think that?”

“Olivia showed up because Jeremy told her about Grandfather
being shot and Ben being a suspect.”

“I thought she heard about it on the news.”

“Jeremy’s news network. I overheard him call her right after
the police took Ben in for questioning. Another, Walt.”

Lexie’s forehead creased. “I thought Olivia hated Jeremy for
dumping her after she left Ben.”

“If she did, she got over it,” Dylan said. “A few months ago
I was in Manhattan visiting a friend. We were at Gramercy Tavern, and I spotted
Jeremy and Olivia leaving, although they didn’t see me. I didn’t talk to them
because they seemed to be in a hurry to get away. They looked pretty friendly,
if you get my meaning.”

“When was that?” Lexie asked.

“Right before Easter. We were all at Nevermore for Easter,
and I kept waiting for Jeremy to needle Ben about being back with Olivia. But
he never did.”

Lexie walked out of Walt’s a few minutes later, slipping on
her sunglasses against the bright sunlight. Maybe Jeremy and Olivia’s lunch had
been professional, and Dylan had misread the situation. Maybe it had nothing to
do with Max’s murder.

Except the first attempt on Max’s life had been made at
Easter dinner, just after Dylan claimed to have seen Jeremy and Olivia
together.

She opened her purse and pulled out her cell phone.

Ben was the first to arrive at sherry hour that evening. He
poured himself a large Scotch from the bottle in the parlor’s liquor cabinet,
adding only a single cube from the ice bucket. Usually he preferred a few more
rocks, but he was counting on alcohol to make him feel better.

He’d spent the day at work hoping it would distract him.
He’d also been hoping that while he was fixing a leaky carburetor on a Yamaha
Blaster, his subconscious might come up with a few ideas how to find
Grandfather’s killer. Unfortunately his subconscious hadn’t had any better luck
than his conscious brain had, maybe because work hadn’t distracted him from
grief and worry. He took a bracing sip of Scotch.

“Is Olivia gone yet?” Cecilia asked as she strode into the
parlor. From her tone, more than three years’ absence hadn’t made her any
fonder of his ex-wife.

Ben shook his head. “She’s planning to stick around for a
while.”

“Can’t you get rid of her?”

“She did post my bail,” Ben said. Although he’d already paid
her back. The truth was that at the moment, he couldn’t handle the drama trying
to convince Olivia to leave would undoubtedly entail. It was easier to let her
stay.

“Could you two tell everyone I won’t be at dinner tonight?”
Jeremy was standing in the parlor doorway. “I’m taking Lexie to Cleo’s.” He
grinned. “I told her I didn’t appreciate that she’d lied to me about who she
really is and especially that she’d pretended to be Ben’s girlfriend when she
wasn’t. She’s promised to make it up to me. I’ll be back at Nevermore by one,
although it’s going to be a sacrifice.”

“I thought Lexie went back to Philadelphia,” Ben said when
Jeremy had left.

“Dylan said she’s staying at the Lakeview Inn,” Cecilia
said. “Haven’t you talked to her?”

“No. You look beautiful tonight, Olivia,” Ben told his ex-wife
as she paused in the parlor doorway before making her entrance.

“I’m feeling exceptionally well,” Olivia said, walking over
to him. “It must be getting out of the city.” She flashed a cover-girl smile,
resting her hand on Ben’s sleeve. “Or maybe it’s something else.”

“You know, I can’t face another family dinner,” he said.
“Why don’t we go to Cleo’s? The owner’s a friend, so I know we can get a
table.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Olivia said. “I’ll get my purse.”

“What’s that about?” Cecilia asked when Olivia had left the
parlor.

To be honest, Ben was hoping that seeing Lexie at the
restaurant might break the ice, that she’d tell him she didn’t believe he was
guilty and was willing to discuss things with him. But he wasn’t about to share
that with Cecilia, if only because it might end up being wishful thinking. “As
I said, I’m not up to a family dinner.”

Cecilia narrowed her eyes at him. “There are other
restaurants.”

“Not that meet Olivia’s standards.”

“So take me. You don’t want to go with Olivia.”

Ben actually would have preferred Cecilia’s company.
However, pride wouldn’t let him show up with his cousin when Jeremy had a date
with Lexie. “Please don’t tell me how to run my personal life.”

Cecilia waved her hand. “Why not? I’m an expert at screwing
up my own. I want you to benefit from my mistakes. I won’t let you get back
with Olivia in a moment of weakness. Especially not when you can have someone
like Lexie.”

“Lexie and I had a one-night stand. My only interest in her
now is that she’s the attorney for Grandfather’s trust and wants to identify
his killer. That’s why I hate it that she thinks I’m guilty.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t,” Cecilia said. “If you won’t call
her, I will.”

“Don’t,” Ben said firmly. “I don’t want you putting her in a
difficult situation. I’ve done enough already.”

“And you think showing up at Cleo’s with Olivia will make
things easier for her?” Cecilia shook her head. “Enjoy your dinner.”

After talking to Dylan, Lexie had called Jeremy, claiming
the trustee wanted her to meet with each beneficiary. Jeremy had suggested
meeting over dinner at Cleo’s, and she’d had no reason to turn him down. She
had to eat, and two fast food meals in one day probably wasn’t a good idea.
Although she doubted a Lakeview restaurant would be much of a step up.

Cleo’s surprised her. The décor was simple—cedar-paneled
walls covered with framed photos of area scenery, surrounding wooden tables and
chairs that were more sturdy than decorative. However, one wall was virtually
all windows and provided a spectacular view of Lake Superior. The menu was
inventive and the wine list interesting. The restaurant was less than half full
tonight, but Jeremy said on weekends it was packed, people driving from Duluth
and Thunder Bay just to eat there despite hours-long waits and a
no-reservations policy.

Lexie had stuck to small talk since Jeremy had picked her up
at her motel. Now that they’d ordered and their wine had been served, it was
time to get to the point of this dinner.

“Who do you think killed your grandfather?” she asked. The
real point was to confirm what Dylan had told her about Jeremy and Olivia, but
Lexie didn’t want to open with that. Besides, Jeremy was intelligent and knew
the players better than she did, so he might be able to help her find the real
killer.

“Probably Ben, since the gun and note can be traced to him
and he’s the only person who knew Grandfather was alive.”

Assuming she could shake Jeremy’s knee-jerk prejudice
against Ben, that is. “Why would Ben have waited to kill Max if he wanted him
dead?” Lexie asked. “Doesn’t it make more sense that the murderer was someone
who’d just found out Max was alive?”

“Maybe Ben and Grandfather had a falling out,” Jeremy said.
“To be honest, it’s hard for me to believe Ben’s capable of murder, but the
evidence points to him. And I don’t know who else would have done it.”

“Did you have a clue that Max was alive?” she asked,
watching him intently. “Was I the only one in the dark?”

Jeremy shook his head, his eyes wide. “God, no. I couldn’t
believe it when I saw him lying on the ground.”

Lexie took a sip of the excellent pinot noir Jeremy had
ordered. His claim to have been shocked had sounded and even looked truthful,
but he might be an exceptionally good liar. God knows she’d seen some lawyers
convincingly spouting positions that should have had their noses hanging down
to their knees.

“Look who’s here,” Jeremy said.

Lexie followed Jeremy’s gaze and choked on her wine. Ben and
Olivia were walking into the restaurant. What an unpleasant coincidence.

“I mentioned to Ben that we were having dinner here. He’s
obviously showing me that Olivia now prefers him.”

Okay, so it wasn’t a coincidence. And what Ben really
intended to demonstrate was that things were over between them. “It doesn’t
bother you to see him with her?” Ben and Olivia’s arrival did provide the
perfect segue to quiz Jeremy about his relationship with Olivia.

“Not a bit,” Jeremy said. “Once I got to know her, I
discovered I was much more attracted to her looks than to her personality.
Ben’s welcome to her.”

“You’ve kept in touch with her, though.”

“Nope. I haven’t seen or even talked to Olivia since we
broke things off.” He took Lexie’s hand. “I much prefer sexy Philadelphia
lawyers.”

“Especially since I slept with Ben.”

Jeremy had the grace to look embarrassed. “Okay, I’ll admit
that in the past I was a little competitive with Ben, but I’ve outgrown that.
My interest in you has nothing to do with Ben.”

Maybe Jeremy’s interest was because he thought he’d be able
to convince her of Ben’s guilt as a way of covering up his own. He’d lied about
his contacts with Olivia.

Assuming Dylan hadn’t lied about seeing Jeremy and Olivia
together in Manhattan to cover his own guilt.

Lexie glanced toward Ben and Olivia just in time to see them
being seated at a corner table, obviously anxious for privacy. She returned her
attention to Jeremy. “I think we’ve talked enough about Ben. Tell me about your
new business venture.”

By the time they’d finished dinner, Lexie knew enough about
Jeremy’s new business venture to check it out. Even without checking, it
sounded viable to her. He also was traveling to London to watch Wimbledon at
the end of the month—he was an avid tennis player—and was waiting for a Porsche
he’d special-ordered nine weeks ago. He’d insisted on paying for dinner and
used a platinum Visa that was accepted without a problem. Combined with what
she’d learned the afternoon they’d spent on the speedboat, Jeremy didn’t sound
at all hurting for money.

On the other hand, appearances could be deceiving. Jeremy
also clearly had expensive tastes. He could have been willing to kill for the
chance to be filthy rich, as opposed to simply extremely well off.

“Before we leave, we should stop by and acknowledge Ben and
Olivia,” Jeremy said after he’d signed the credit card receipt.

That was the last thing Lexie wanted to do, but she couldn’t
object. She certainly didn’t want Ben thinking she was crushed about his
reconciliation with his wife.

“I was surprised to see you here tonight, Ben,” Jeremy said
when he and Lexie had reached the cozy corner table. Ben was sitting on one
side with Olivia directly to his left.

Ben set down his fork. He’d nearly finished his steak and
scallops, but Olivia appeared to have only taken a couple of bites of her lemongrass-crusted
salmon with watercress ginger sauce. Either she was a slow eater or one of
those annoying women who only pretended to eat, even when the food was
fantastic—as Lexie knew it was since she’d ordered the same thing and wolfed it
down.

“When you mentioned eating out, I realized that for once you
had a good idea,” Ben told Jeremy, and then he met Lexie’s eyes. “How are you,
Catherine?”

“Everyone’s still calling me Lexie,” she said. “It’s
easier.”

“Lexie, then. How long are you going to be around?”

“That’s up in the air right now.”

“It’s nice to see the two of you together again,” Jeremy
said.

Ben snorted. “Right.”

“I’m serious,” Jeremy said. “I regret the part I played in
the breakup of your marriage. I hope you can work things out.”

Olivia rested a possessive hand on Ben’s arm. “We intend
to.”

Lexie had to admit she was disappointed as she accompanied
Jeremy out of the restaurant. She’d hoped Ben would have suggested getting
together to discuss the murder, since she could use his help. He not only
hadn’t, but he hadn’t even acted as if they were friends. Now that he was back
with his wife, he probably considered any contact with his one-night stand
awkward. Or maybe he didn’t think she’d be any help finding Max’s murderer.
After all, she hadn’t been able to do it in time to save Max’s life.

In either case, she could take a hint. If she was going to
find Max’s murderer, she was on her own.

The next morning, Lexie headed to Nevermore.

After she’d gotten back to the motel and rid herself of
Jeremy—which had proven a bigger challenge than she’d anticipated—she’d
realized that even without Ben, she didn’t have to do this alone. Trey would
want his best friend’s murderer punished, and Cecilia would want to help Ben.
Assuming Cecilia wasn’t guilty, but Lexie couldn’t believe she was, and not
just because she liked her. If Cecilia had done it, she wouldn’t have framed
Ben.

Lexie sped up when she got out of town. A sparkling Lake
Superior filled her rearview mirror, and thick pines and birch trees surrounded
the hilly road with green velvet and touches of silver. She’d disliked this
road, but that’s when she’d thought it was where Max had died. Now she could
appreciate its beauty. She pushed the brake to take a curve.

The car didn’t slow.

She pushed the pedal down again and again. Nothing happened.
The car kept careening forward, rounding the curve, and then speeding up as she
descended a steep hill.

Lexie’s heart was pounding, pumping cold panic through her
body. A yellow warning sign announced a winding road and recommended a speed of
thirty. She was going seventy. She fumbled for the emergency brake and pulled
it, bracing herself for a fast stop.

The car continued speeding downhill.

She should downshift, but the car was already entering a
curve. She needed both hands on the wheel to stay on the road, didn’t dare take
one off for even a second. Her hammering heart was pummeling her lungs, making
it hard to breathe. She was going so fast she could barely read the sign
warning this wasn’t a single curve but several.

The other lane was blessedly empty, so Lexie muscled the
steering wheel around the first curve, going wide. The car was traveling even
faster as she jerked the steering wheel as hard as she could the other way,
trying to make the next curve.

She didn’t.

Max might not have died this way, but she was about to.

That was her last thought before the car split the wire cord
barrier and plunged into the ravine.