Gracie's Game: Sudden Anger, Accidentally on Purpose Page 7

  Clarissa paused in her artful arrangement of sandwiches. "I'm fine, Susan," she said. "Though I'm sure we're all pretty upset tonight. I think the widow is still upstairs, probably trying to figure out how to accessorize her little black dress without any jewelry. I'm sorry, that was tactless of me!"

  Susan grinned to show she agreed, regardless of the issue of tact.

  Jeanine pushed past Susan and headed for the sandwiches again. "Coffee pot's on the counter," she informed them. "Is that ham or chicken?"

  Susan and Clarissa looked at each other and shook their heads at Jeanine's laziness, while Jeanine picked up two sandwiches and took a bite of each.

  "I'll go make the coffee," Susan volunteered. "Why don't you come help me, Gracie?"

  "Bring me some ice when you're done," demanded Jeanine. "I need a drink!"

  In the kitchen Susan put her arm around Gracie's shoulders. "How you doin', kiddo?" she asked as she gave Gracie a quick hug. "Are you OK?"

  Gracie threw her arms around Susan's waist and hugged her fiercely for a moment, then stepped back in embarrassment. "I don't know, Susan," she said forlornly. "I still can't believe it's true. It would be bad enough if he'd had a heart attack or something, but murder? I know Dad wasn't very sensitive of other people's feelings, but…"

  "But he was your father, and you loved him," Susan said quietly. "Warts and all, as the saying goes. And he loved you, too; even if he wasn't very good at showing it. You just remember that, no matter what happens. You've seen enough movies to know that we're going to hear a lot of horrible accusations, but that doesn't mean they're all true. The police will get to the bottom of this and find the person who killed him."

  "I know they will," Gracie said listlessly.

  "Justice will be done," intoned Susan. "But your father's still gone, and you'll miss him forever. You need to grieve, Honey, and don't worry about what happened. If you need to talk, just give me a call."

  "Thanks, Susan," Gracie said. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go outside for a little bit and be by myself."

  "Sure, you go ahead. I'll get the coffee made and get your aunt a drink, maybe that'll quieten her down a bit."

  Gracie slipped out the front door and sat down on the porch steps. She felt like she was ten years old again, and didn't understand what all the grown-ups were talking about. They all said nice things about her dad, even when she knew he hadn't treated them very well much of the time. She remembered their conversation about the car, and felt terrible about asking for the Lexus. Then she remembered how irritated she'd been that he didn't take her concern for the environment seriously and felt mad all over again.

  She shook her head, trying to banish her confusion. She got up and began walking around the front yard, trying to enjoy the peace and quiet and not think. The lush landscape provided a restful background and for once she enjoyed its beauty instead of bemoaning the fertilizer and pesticides. After all, her father might have wanted the yard to look good as a reflection of his good taste, but it meant he did enjoy beauty too.

  Gracie strolled around the driveway and began amusing herself by thinking how all the cars reflected their owners. She supposed Jennifer's flashy new Mercedes was in the garage, but there was Cindy's old Chevy; it was faded and a bit battered, but reliable. Mom's Escalade still seemed wrong to her (classy but too extravagant), but Clay's red truck fit him to a 'T' - comfortable and hard-working, but still looking shiny and pretty.

  She walked by Bill's Taurus. It was at least ten years old, the dark blue paint faded, but scrupulously clean inside and out and somehow proud of itself for continuing to perform its duties. Bill's bike was clamped to the roof rack, and she reached up to remove a small evergreen branch that had been stuck in the tag bracket. Bill must've missed it when he'd loaded the bike.

  Next was Aunt Jeanine's piece of shit. She smiled to think how her mother would glare at her for using that crude phrase - and then laughingly admit that it was the perfect description. The Toyota was only a few years old, but looked like it was ready for the scrap heap; the silver paint was peeling in spots, there were several good-sized dents in the body, and the left-rear window was covered in plastic because it wouldn't roll up anymore. It was anyone's guess whether it would start tonight when Jeanine left.

  An unfamiliar car pulled up to the curb, and a man got out and walked toward the house.

  "Hello," Gracie said to him. "You must be Lieutenant Freeman. I'm Gracie Greene."

  He shook her hand and told her, "Pleased to meet you, Miss Greene. I'm sorry about your father, I know it must be a shock."

  "Thank you," Gracie said. "Well, everyone's here, I know you want to talk to us all, so please come in."

  "You can stay out here if you like, Miss Greene," Ken said. "This kind of thing gets pretty emotional and ugly, and I'm sure you're upset enough as it is."

  Suddenly Gracie was tired of feeling like a child, not being taken seriously. "But Lieutenant, what if I'm the murderer?" she asked impishly. "Or what if I've accidentally run across some little piece of information that will break the case?"

  Ken laughed whole-heartedly and delightedly. He liked this young woman, she was smart, and he could understand that she didn't want to feel left out. "Then, Miss Greene, let's go into the lion's den - but don't say I didn't warn you!"

  Gracie led the lieutenant into the den, which was still in quite a bit of disarray. People were milling about and talking in low voices. Justin and Zack were sitting at the bar, and immediately slunk out upon the arrival of the cop. Jennifer and Cindy were still not in evidence.

  Clarissa took control of the situation. She introduced herself to Lieutenant Freeman and offered to retrieve the widow. She turned to the room in general and said, "May I have your attention please? This is Lieutenant Freeman, he's the detective investigating Charles' death. I'm sure he will tell us what he knows to date, and then will have a lot of questions for us all. I'm going to go get Jennifer, so this would be a good time to get a sandwich if you haven't already. Then we can get started.

  She turned to Ken and said, "Lieutenant, I imagine you've been quite busy this afternoon, so please help yourself to a sandwich and coffee if you'd like."

  Everybody began finding a place to sit, but Gracie decided it would be a good idea to get something to eat. She didn't want to miss any of the discussion; somehow it seemed to make her feel less powerless to think that she might really be able to help in the investigation, her earlier comment to Lieutenant Freeman having given her the idea.

  As Gracie walked in Aunt Jeanine was just leaving the dining room, carrying a plate heaped with sandwiches. "Damned impertinent little snots," Jeanine said to no one in particular.

  Justin and Zack were standing by the table making juvenile jokes about being arrested. Gracie began loading her plate and tried to ignore them, but it was only a matter of moments before the laws of sibling survival required her to harass them unmercifully.

  "You guys must be shaking in your boots with a cop in the house," she said knowingly. "What if he wants to look around and finds your stash?"

  "What stash?" Justin sneered. "I don't know what you're talking about!" He did his best to give her an innocent look.

  "Oh come on, Justin," she replied with exasperation. "You may have Mom fooled, but I know you smoke pot. Everybody at school knows, it's obvious the way you act."

  "Just because I'm not a goody two-shoes like you, it doesn't mean I smoke pot," Justin retorted.

  Gracie said, "Whatever," and started to walk away. Then something occurred to her and she whirled around to face them once again.

  "Ooh, I get it!" she said excitedly. "I bet the burglar found your joints in their little hidey-hole and took them, along with our dear step-mother's jewelry. So I guess you're safe for the time being."

  Justin and Zack exchanged looks of surprise.

  "And what hidey-hole would that be?" Justin asked. The façade of innocence was slipping, badly.

  "The A/C vent of course," said G
racie smugly. "I used to live here, remember? It's just like a couple of pot-heads to use the oldest hiding place in the book! Probably took him all of two seconds to find it."

  Gracie could almost see the thoughts work their torturous way through Justin's mind. She knew about the pot but apparently hadn't snitched for some reason. Maybe she'd been saving it for the right time - or maybe she just didn't care. Either way, it would do no good to continue to pretend.

  "Well, for your information the burglar didn't find it!" Justin declared in a cocky voice. He stuck his tongue out at her, making a rude noise. "But now that you've kindly told me that you know about it, I guess I'll have to find another place to keep it."

  "Like I care," Gracie retorted.

  Ken walked into the dining room, surveyed the scene, and asked, "Am I interrupting? I haven't had dinner yet, your mother said it would be OK."

  Justin and Zack slipped out of the room without a word. Gracie told Ken to help himself and followed the boys out, admonishing them to go to the den with everyone else instead of sneaking off to Justin's room. She sat on the couch next to Bill.

  "Gracie, I'm so sorry this had to happen," Bill said. "I know you don't understand, and you're upset. If you need to talk, just let me know."

  "Thanks, Bill, I appreciate that," she told him. "I stopped by the lab to see you after school today but you weren't there."

  "Sure I was," he said. "Must've missed you. You know I get caught up in what I'm doing, did you keep knocking?"

  "I know you, Bill!" she said. "I banged on the door several times, but you didn't open up, or even answer."

  Bill took a bite of his sandwich as he thought about it. "Oh, I know! I splashed something on my new shirt..." He pinched the fabric between two fingers and pulled it away from his chest to make the visual point. "So I went to the men's room to wash it out. It wasn't anything dangerous, I just didn't want to stain it so soon. Then it would look like all my other shirts."

  Gracie laughed and said, "We couldn't have that!"

  "It took a little work, had to take it off and scrub the spot with hand soap. I wasn't paying attention to the time, but that must've been when you came by."

  "No big deal," Gracie said. "I just wanted to chat." This certainly wasn't the time to ask Bill about the overheard conversation.

  Ken walked into the den and everyone settled down. Jennifer and Cindy had joined them and sat together at one end of the big couch. Ken stood at one end of the room, with his dinner and a notebook on an end table beside him. He took a moment to finish a sandwich and wash it down with some coffee. He was aware that it gave the impression that he was in control of the crowd and would do things in his own good time - but it didn't hurt that he was hungry.

  "Let me introduce myself," he began. "I'm Lieutenant Ken Freeman, I'm a homicide detective here to investigate the murder of Charles Greene."

  A collective shiver seemed to go through the people watching him. They'd only learned about the death an hour ago, and somehow it made it more real to hear a policeman say the words.

  With a nod to Clarissa he continued. "Mr. Greene had a meeting with Mr. Bixby this afternoon at 2:00 PM; they concluded their business and Mr. Greene left shortly before 3:00. Around 4:00 some of the Bixby staff noticed Mr. Greene's car was still parked on the drive just outside the gates and went to investigate. They found Mr. Greene lying on the grass with what appeared to be a bullet wound to the chest."

  "They called 911 and paramedics pronounced him dead when they arrived. The body has been taken to the morgue. Mrs. Greene," Ken paused and looked apologetically at Jennifer. "I would appreciate it if you would come with me later and identify the body."

  Jennifer broke out in a fresh fit of sobs, her face in her hands, but nodded her head mechanically. Cindy murmured, "I'll go with you, you don't have to do it alone."

  "A forensics team has gone over the area, but so far hasn't found any obvious clues. His car appears undamaged, and we found his briefcase on the passenger seat, with the contract inside it." Ken looked around at the faces. "Robbery doesn't appear to be the motive, unless there's something missing we don't know about. Does anyone know if he was in the habit of keeping cash or valuables in his car?"

  Everyone looked at everyone else, and slowly heads began to shake. Clarissa spoke up. "Charles would probably have had quite a bit of cash in his wallet, but he didn't keep any in the car."

  Ken nodded and made a note. "A wallet was found on the body with…" He consulted his notes. "$842 in it. And credit cards. So I think we can rule out robbery."

  "However," he continued. "There was a break-in here in this house today. Mrs. Greene's jewelry was taken, some cash from Mr. Greene's desk, a coin collection, some prescription meds, and a gun." As Jennifer still had her hands over her face he directed his remark to Cindy. "Ms. Stone, I understand you've been helping restore order."

  Cindy nodded in response. "We haven't discovered anything else missing, if that's what you're asking," she said.

  "Have you had a chance to go through Mr. Greene's office yet?" he asked.

  "No, sir," she replied. "We thought we'd let him do that when he got home." She offered a wan smile. "He wouldn't have liked us going through his stuff."

  "I understand," he said. He looked at Jennifer for a moment, then turned to Clarissa.

  He asked, "Ms. Stewart, you're Mr. Greene's first wife, is that right?"

  "Yes, that's correct. I took back my maiden name when we divorced."

  "Do you think you could go through the office and see if you think anything's missing? I know it's a long shot, but it might be important," he explained.

  Clarissa glanced at Jennifer meaningfully, but said, "I would be happy to do so, Lieutenant, but I doubt I'd know if anything was gone. Even when we were married I stayed out of his office, he considered it private." She thought for a moment, and had an uncomfortable look on her face. "Perhaps his lawyer would be a better choice. But I'll certainly take a look if you like."

  "I'd appreciate that," he said. "We can get the lawyer in after you've had a look." He let his gaze wander over the assembly; he had their full attention.

  "At this point it's hard to tell if the burglary is in any way connected to the murder," he pronounced. "It might be a coincidence. On the other hand, perhaps someone broke in looking for something in Mr. Greene's desk; if they found it and didn't like it - or if they didn't find what they were looking for - they could then have confronted him and shot him." Ken paused to think. "But it seems odd that it would've happened way over at the Bixby mansion," he finished.

  Jim Holloway said, "But we all knew about the appointment, Charles made a big announcement about it at the party Saturday. He was really pumped about this sale."

  Ken looked a little surprised. "You all knew?" he asked.

  "Yeah," Jim said. "Everyone here was there. Um, let me think. Oh! Clarke was there, but he's back at school now. Yeah, I think this is the same group."

  "Clarke?" Ken asked.

  "My oldest son," Clarissa clarified. "He was home from school for the weekend, that's why we had the party. Surely you don't think one of us did it!"

  "Well, I have to check everything out," Ken said in a business-like tone. "Mrs. Greene says she doesn't know of any enemies her husband might have had." He left it at that, to see what information might be forthcoming.

  People looked at each other and shook their heads, Ken could hear mumbles of, "Not that I know of." and "Don't think so."

  "I know this is an uncomfortable question," he began. "But was Mr. Greene in any kind of financial difficulty?"

  He got the same kind of vague negative response.

  "He always paid his alimony and child support on time and in full," Clarissa volunteered.

  "Well, we'll certainly check that out," he said. "Now I need to ask you all where you were at 3:00 today. And in the morning, too I guess; we're not sure when the burglary took place."

  People were obviously expecting this question and everyon
e began to talk at once. Ken noticed the two boys slip off their barstools and begin to saunter out of the room.

  "Just a minute, son," he barked. "We'll start with you."

  CHAPTER 9

  Justin stopped in his tracks, and his head flew up to look at the lieutenant, a look of guilty shock on his face. Zack smacked into him from behind and bounced back a step. Justin said, "Uh, me?"

  Now that he had their attention Ken smiled to show he wasn't all bad. "I presume one of you two is Mr. Greene's son."

  "Yeah, that's me," Justin replied suspiciously. "I'm Justin. I was at school all day, we get out at 3:30. And I don't have a car right now, so I couldn't have been there on the other side of town." His tone was rather defiant.

  "Thanks, Justin," Ken replied, making a note. "And the other young man is?"

  "I'm Zack Owens, sir," Zack responded. "I'm, uh, Justin's friend. I was in school too."

  Zack looked like he wanted to say more, so Ken waited patiently.

  "I brought Justin home after school, that's when we found out about the break-in. Jennifer - I mean Mrs. Greene - was really upset, the place was really trashed. But that was nearly 4:00, I think."

  Ken said, "Thank you Zack. You guys understand, I have to ask everyone. Now that I've gotten your statements there's no reason you need to hang around, you can leave whenever you want."

  Justin and Zack left the room, quietly for a change.

  "There's something fishy about those two," Ken thought. "But it doesn't have to be anything to do with the murder. Wouldn't be surprised if they'd been in trouble before."

  "OK," Ken said as if dismissing the boys from his thoughts. "Mrs. Greene has given her statement to Officer Barclay; she and her friend were out shopping all morning. 911 recorded her call at 2:53 PM, and the officer arrived here shortly after 3:00. He noted that Ms. Stone arrived at approximately 3:15 so it's doubtful she could have been involved." With an apologetic nod to Cindy he said, "We'll check the phone company records of course, but I don't think you would've had time to make the drive from across town."