Fatal Trust (23 page)

“I’d better go. The cop told me I could only stay for a few
minutes,” Cecilia told Ben the next morning. He’d asked her to bring his phone
charger and the clothes he’d left at Nevermore. “If you need anything else,
call me.”

“What I need is to find out who killed Grandfather so I can
get the hell out of here,” Ben said. Mike was in charge again today and had let
Ben meet Cecilia alone in the jail’s conference room. However, unlike at last
night’s meeting with Lexie, Ben’s leg was cuffed to the table, a tangible
reminder that he was in jail accused of something very serious. As if he could
forget that for even one second.

Ben’s gloom apparently showed on his face, because Cecilia
touched his forearm. “You can’t lose faith, Ben. Lexie’s working on it, and
she’s really smart. I know she’ll find Grandfather’s killer.”

She sounded confident and encouraging, but then she’d been a
cheerleader at Arizona State during a couple of abysmally bad seasons.

And she could very well be responsible for his plight.

“I hope you’re right,” he said, feeling even gloomier.

“I know I am.” Cecilia’s tone was still confident, but Ben
detected a hint of stiff-upper-lip desperation. “Once she’s done that, Lexie
will figure out how to get you your money. Grandfather never intended for you
to be disinherited because the police arrested the wrong person. If Lexie can’t
get the provision overturned, I’ll convince everyone to give you your share
anyway. It’s only fair.”

“I doubt Jeremy will be in favor of that. Assuming anyone
else will go along with it.”

Cecilia waved her hand. “If they won’t, I’ll give you half
of my share. But first we need to get you out of here.” She met his eyes. “I’ll
call Lexie and ask how I can help. I’ll do anything I can, Ben. Not only
because I know you didn’t do it, but because I can’t imagine how horrible it
must feel to be suspected of killing Grandfather when you loved him so much.”
She got to her feet and started for the door.

She seemed as sincere and caring as when she’d dropped
everything, flown to Manhattan, and shown up at his condo right after she’d
heard about Olivia and Jeremy. She didn’t sound like someone who was framing
him.

And suddenly Ben couldn’t believe she was, or that she’d
killed Grandfather. He’d bet she had logical explanations for everything. If
Cecilia was innocent, Lexie was wasting valuable time focusing on her.

Or maybe he was lying to himself because he couldn’t stand
the possibility she could be guilty. Hopefully he wasn’t about to make a
horrible mistake.

“Cecilia, did you know Grandfather was alive?”

She paused with her hand on the doorknob.

“I asked if you knew Grandfather was alive,” Ben said.

She slowly turned back toward him. Her expression was
unreadable, which worried Ben because Cecilia’s face was normally a virtual
marquee of her emotions. Then she spoke, words that knocked the air out of him.
“How did you know?”

Lexie slipped into Cecilia’s room and headed for the closet.
After she’d left Ben last night, she’d remembered that Cecilia had been wearing
a white sundress the day they’d met. If the button she’d found in Max’s bedroom
had come from that dress, it would make it even more likely that Cecilia had
known Max was alive.

Lexie located the sundress and pushed away the red silk
beside it so she could examine the back buttons. She’d remembered right—they
were white. But these buttons were pearlized with shanks, not flat with four
holes like the one she’d found. She inspected the other dresses, skirts, and
blouses hanging in the closet, but nothing had buttons like the one she’d
found, missing or otherwise.

She did a quick check of the room, feeling especially guilty
when she went through the dresser drawers. All she learned was that Cecilia was
extremely neat and a fan of sexy underwear.

Okay, so she’d have to play it by ear when she talked to
her. Lexie glanced at her watch as she tiptoed down the stairs. Maybe she’d go
for a walk while she waited for Ben’s call and Cecilia’s return. She was too
nervous to sit still.

She’d just started toward the front door when Jeremy stepped
out of the dining room. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Checking some things for the trust, since Trey won’t get
out of the hospital until tomorrow,” she said, using her planned excuse. “I
also wanted to talk to Cecilia, but she doesn’t seem to be around.”

“She went to see Ben at the jail, but she should be back
soon. You can keep me company while you wait.”

“I could use another cup of coffee.” Talking to Jeremy would
distract her as much as a walk would. A little more caffeine couldn’t hurt,
either. She followed Jeremy into the dining room.

“I’ll pour you one,” he said. “Black?”

“Yes, thanks,” Lexie said, sitting down at the table. A
hardcover book was across from her, a bookmark protruding.
Water
o
ver the Bridge
.
“Are you rereading Max’s books?”

Jeremy set a cup of coffee in front of her. “Aunt Muriel
left it.”

“Ben and I were talking about Max’s early books.” That
conversation seemed months ago, not just days. Lexie smiled faintly. “Including
this one, where the shark eats the lawyer. Max probably chose that fate as a
play on all those lack of professional courtesy jokes. And in—”

She never finished her sentence.

Ben hadn’t seen that coming. He paused, breathed, regrouped.
Just because Cecilia had known Grandfather was alive didn’t mean she’d killed
him. “Did you spot him in his bedroom?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never been in Grandfather’s bedroom.
He was outside, walking in the woods. I saw him right after I got to Nevermore.
I almost fainted.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I figured it was one of his practical jokes, and I didn’t
want to spoil it because I’d taken an early flight and arrived three hours
before I was expected. I kept waiting for him to pop up somewhere and say
‘Surprise, I’m alive,’ but he never did.” She chewed her lower lip. “I couldn’t
believe it when he really ended up dead.”

The quiver in her voice did a lot to convince Ben she hadn’t
killed him, but Lexie had some compelling evidence. He went directly to the big
one. “Did you go down to the lake the night Grandfather was murdered?”

Cecilia’s eyes widened. “You know that, too?”

“Igor saw you. What were you doing?”

“I was going to sit by the water. I couldn’t sleep, and I
wanted to think.”

“Late at night?”

She shrugged. “I went there all the time when I was a kid
and we were visiting, especially when Dad drank too much and fought with Mom.
That usually happened at night.”

“What did you need to think about this time?”

She frowned, touching her lips with her fisted knuckles.
“About how I’m going to tell Peter that I haven’t only been divorced once, but
three times. Since I’m sure that’s going to send him running in the other
direction.”

“He already knows. Did you see Grandfather or anyone else
that night?”

“What do you mean, Peter already knows?”

“I told him before I suggested he ask you out,” Ben said. “I
also said I thought you were always looking for someone to take care of you
because of your mother, but you’d grow out of it if you found the right man.”

Cecilia’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t believe I’ve wasted all
this time agonizing over telling Peter, and he already knows. You could have
told me.”

The sharpness in her tone surprised Ben. It hadn’t occurred
to him she’d worry about that, but they needed to focus. He held up a placating
hand. “We’ll discuss this later. Did you see Grandfather’s body when you went
down by the water?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t see anyone. I’d only gone a
few feet in on the path when I heard something. I assumed it was a wild animal,
a moose or even a wolf, and it creeped me out.” She smiled faintly. “I guess
I’m not as brave as when I was a kid. Or as desperate to escape. So I turned
around and went back to Nevermore.”

She didn’t blink or fidget or talk too fast, things she
usually did when she was lying and trying to cover. “Question three,” Ben said.
“Did Grandfather refuse to give you money after this divorce? Or threaten to disinherit
you?”

“I didn’t ask him for money,” Cecilia said. “I was smarter
this prenup and got enough to support myself for a while.” She made a face.
“After two divorces, I’d finally lost my romantic notion that this one will be
forever. But I was too embarrassed to admit that to anyone, since I’d still
gone through with the marriage and ended up divorced again.”

“Why did you come early at Easter if it wasn’t to ask for
money?” Ben asked.

She came over and sat back down by the table. “Because I
wanted him to threaten to disinherit Dylan unless he cleaned up his act. I
probably shouldn’t have done that, but I was desperate. Although Grandfather
refused. He said he’d never disinherit any of us, and he wouldn’t use that
threat when it was a lie.” Her forehead creased. “So why did he threaten to
disinherit you?”

“He wanted me to know how upset he was. He knew I’d never
take his threat seriously.”

“That makes sense,” Cecilia said. “He did say he wasn’t
giving Dylan another cent no matter who he owed money to.” She worried her
lower lip again. “I probably should have mentioned that to the police or at
least to you and Lexie. But I didn’t want Dylan suspected of killing
Grandfather. He’s got issues, but I know he isn’t a murderer. I guess I could
have told the police I also knew Grandfather was alive, but I didn’t think it
would help you.”

“You’re right. Question four: How did you know the poison
Grandfather was given was arsenic?”

“Peter told me after Grandfather was shot, and everyone knew
he’d been poisoned before. Was it a secret?”

“I guess not.” Peter had obviously seen Max’s medical
records and assumed that since the entire family knew Max had been poisoned,
they also knew what had been used. “One final question. What were you really
doing in my room when you lost your bracelet? Your divorce had been final for
almost two weeks, so I know you weren’t checking on it.”

Cecilia’s cheeks pinkened, and she looked at the bracelet in
question, twisting it on her wrist as she spoke. “I was there to use your
computer, but not about my divorce. I googled Peter. I always check out guys
before I date them, but I didn’t want you to know, because Peter’s your friend,
and I didn’t want you to think I didn’t trust your judgment.” She met his eyes
again. “Why are you asking me all this? Do you think I killed Grandfather?”

“If I thought that, I wouldn’t have asked you to explain the
things that looked suspicious,” Ben said.

To be honest, he’d had a smidgen of doubt, not that he’d
ever admit it to Cecilia. But that was gone.

Now he needed to get hold of Lexie so she wouldn’t waste any
more time looking into the wrong person. Unfortunately, they’d lost their best
suspect. And they were no closer to identifying the real killer than they’d
been back when Grandfather was still alive and the crime had just been
attempted murder.

Lexie’s smile faded. “Oh my God. It was
in
, not
is
.”

“What are you talking about?” Jeremy asked. “Seth? Or
Muriel?”

Lexie shook her head, jumping to her feet. “I just realized
I need to check one last thing in the trust accountings. Thanks for the
coffee.”

As she racewalked out of the room, Lexie’s heart was
pounding so hard she was surprised it didn’t burst through her chest. Max had
more faith in her than she’d deserved.

She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was
watching, then slipped into the library and headed for the bookshelf. Less than
a minute later, she was in Max’s secret room. She dug through the pile of
magazines and envelopes on the nightstand, pulling out the royalty and mutual
fund statements she’d noticed earlier.

She returned to the library, and then headed for Trey’s
office. It was locked, but the master key she’d used on Cecilia’s door worked
on it, too. She went inside, locking the door behind her. Trey might still be hospitalized,
but someone else could come by, and she didn’t want to explain what she was
looking for. Not until she was sure she wasn’t way off base.

Trey had two file cabinets. Lexie first went to the one with
drawers labeled “Accountings,” “Expenses,” and “Miscellaneous.” She held her
breath as she grabbed the handle of the accountings drawer and pulled,
breathing again when it wasn’t locked. It contained several years’ worth of the
monthly accountings that Trey prepared for Max showing his income, expenses,
and assets. She removed the most recent accounting, which was for the past
April. Then she went to the other cabinet, which had drawers labeled “Income,”
“Investments,” and “Taxes.” All three of those drawers were locked. Trey’s desk
was locked, too.

If she was lucky, what she had would be enough.

She started with the May royalty statement, which was
accompanied by a check—no direct deposit, which could be further evidence she
was on the right track. The statement reported earnings for Max’s newest book,
which had been released in hardcover in April. Lexie flipped until she found a
summary that listed both the advance Max had gotten and the total net royalties
he’d earned after repayment of the advance. She deducted the May royalty shown
earlier in the statement from the total net royalty to get what must have been
his April check amount, since luckily he’d been able to negotiate monthly
royalty payments. Then she located the royalty that Trey’s accounting showed
the book had earned in April.

It was $10,000 too low.

The mutual fund statement she’d found in Max’s secret room
showed that May investment income had been credited. The only other mutual fund
transaction was a $10,000 withdrawal identified only as a “Moneyline payment,”
whatever that was. She checked the April accounting Trey had prepared for a
similar transaction, but couldn’t find one. However, she did find something
else interesting. Her law firm had been paid the last day of April for work
done during the first quarter of the year. She remembered the amount because
she’d prepared the bill. According to the payment shown on the accounting,
she’d billed Max a thousand dollars more than she actually had.

It wasn’t much, but it supported what she was convinced Max
had been trying to tell her. He’d discovered that Trey had been embezzling from
him.

God knows how long it had been going on—she’d need an
accountant to figure that out. Max was so rich, unconcerned, and trusting of
Trey that he probably hadn’t even noticed until boredom had driven him to read
all of his mail, including his royalty and financial statements. And he’d
discovered what his old friend Trey had been doing.

Max had obviously realized what was going on before he’d
appeared to her, but he’d tried to be clever and give her a clue instead of
telling her outright. Knowing Max, he’d arranged to confront Trey later that
night, assuming Ben would also be there. When Ben hadn’t shown, Max had no
doubt confronted Trey anyway. And she’d bet anything Trey had killed him.

Lexie still didn’t know who’d made the prior attempts on
Max’s life—back then, Max hadn’t been aware of Trey’s embezzling, so Trey had
no reason to want him dead. At the moment, the only thing that mattered was
proving Trey was Max’s murderer.

Her next step was to get a locksmith to open the other file
cabinet, the one that contained all the original financial statements. After
comparing them to the amounts shown on Trey’s accountings and hopefully
confirming she was right, she’d turn everything over to an accountant. Gathering
up the mutual fund and royalty statements and Trey’s April accounting, Lexie
got to her feet.

A key turned, the office door opened, and Trey walked in.

“I thought you were in the hospital until tomorrow,” Lexie
said.

Trey closed the door, and then parked himself in front of
it. “I hate hospitals. I couldn’t stand another day, so I left against medical
advice. What are you doing in here?”

“Checking a couple of things for the trust, since I didn’t
think you’d be back until tomorrow. I’m done now.” She stepped around him and
reached for the door handle.

Trey grabbed her arm, stopping her. “Are those new
statements?” He was looking at the papers Lexie held in her free hand.

“I forgot about those,” Lexie said. “I checked Max’s secret
room to make sure nothing important had been left there. I found these and knew
you’d need them to prepare the final accounting for the trustees.”

“I see you also have an accounting.” Trey was still looking
at her papers. “I woke up this morning with the awful feeling I’d forgotten to
lock that cabinet after I’d gotten Igor’s résumé for you. Apparently I was
right. Although as an excuse, I had a lot going on that night.”

His voice was level, conversational. But something in his
eyes had Lexie’s heart hammering again. “I was trying to get a handle on the
money part of the trust, since Max never gave me specifics.” The coffee she’d
drunk with Jeremy was etching away at her stomach wall, but she managed a faint
smile. “He just said it was worth enough that the estate taxes on it would make
a big dent in the federal deficit.”

Trey shook his head. “Those accountings were the only things
Max ever looked at. He just left his royalty and financial statements on the
desk unopened for me. But apparently Ben gave him his mail while he was
pretending to be dead, and he looked at all of it. He noticed some things that
made him suspicious enough that he picked the lock on my desk so he could get
the keys to open the file cabinets. Then he compared the accountings I’d
prepared to the actual statements.” Trey dug a key out of the pocket of his
suit coat, then moved to his desk and unlocked it.

She needed to get out of here.
Lexie
reached for the door handle again. “I’ll let you—”

“Stop!” Trey spun around, the gun he’d pulled out of the top
desk drawer aimed at her. “I assumed Max had brought all the statements to our
meeting, but I should have guessed he’d be sloppy and overlook a couple. And
because of that, now you’ve also discovered my secret. Which means you have to
die, too.”

Between the gun and Trey’s words, Lexie felt as though she’d
taken a mid-January dip in Lake Superior. “What secret? I don’t know anything.”
Her words sounded breathy.

“That I was embezzling from Max, and of course you know
that. Why else would you have lied about why you were checking the accountings?
I sent Stan Hansen at First Trust an asset list two days after we thought Max
had died in that car accident, and he confirmed he’d e-mailed a copy to you. He
said you were both shocked by how much Max was worth.”

She could keep lying, but Trey wasn’t buying it—and
unfortunately he’d also just admitted the truth. “Max actually told me when he
came into my room and pretended to be a ghost. I realized he didn’t say to
remember the money
is
the key, but the money
in
The Key,
his book where the accountant is embezzling from someone and ends up killing
him.”