Murder Most Persuasive

I sighed. Same old Kit.

* * *

Ann turned to me. “Would you like some tea?”

“If by ‘tea’ you mean Chardonnay, then yes,” I said, following her to the kitchen. Scarlett scampered along beside me. Located in the back of the house, the kitchen was a large modern room with stainless-steel appliances, white cabinets, and white marble countertops. During the day, the back windows provided a view of the landscaped backyard and pool below.

I sat on one of the yellow cushioned stools at the counter, while Ann pulled out a chilled bottle from the refrigerator. Scarlett settled at my feet.

“How are you really?” I asked.

“About how you’d expect,” she replied, getting down two glasses from the cabinet. “You know what my feelings about Michael were, but to know that he’s dead, and not only dead but dead and buried under the pool we all swam in…” She broke off with a low moan of disgust and covered her mouth with her hand.

“You can’t think about it like that,” I said briskly, getting up and easing her into my chair. “You’ll only make yourself sick. None of you knew that then.”

Her head in her hands, she said, “Someone knew.”

Fitting the corkscrew over the neck of the bottle, I pushed down the lever and pulled out the cork. Pouring us each a glass, I slid Ann’s across the counter to her.

Cradling the glass in her hands, her head low, she said, “Thanks, Elizabeth. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, it’s a fair comment. You’re right. Someone did know.”

Ann raised her head, her gaze direct. “I’m scared. Michael wasn’t a nice man. He hurt a lot of people. He hurt people in my family.”

I nodded. I didn’t say what we were both thinking, that Michael had also hurt Ann. As I remembered the detail, my hands gripped my glass with unnecessary strength. Out of precaution, I put it down.

“Ann?” I asked. “When did the pool go in?”

“Eight years ago last July. Two months before what would have been Michael and Reggie’s wedding. They were going to have the reception at the house and Reggie wanted a pool. Not to swim in, of course. She just wanted to float candles and flowers in the water. She thought it would look pretty.”

“She always was a mini-Martha, wasn’t she?” I said with a laugh.

Ann nodded in agreement. “That she was. And of course, Dad denied her nothing. He absolutely doted on her. She was so much like him.” She took a sip of wine. “Anyway, the pool went in right around the time that Reggie broke it off with Michael. Right around the time he disappeared.” She paused. “Obviously.”

“That was right after your dad’s Fourth of July party, right?”

Ann closed her eyes and nodded. “Yup, right after that horrible night.”

I took a sip of my wine, unsure if I should continue. “Ann?” She looked up. I took a deep breath. “Did you ever tell anybody what happened at the party?”

Ann gave a rueful twist of her mouth. “You mean, did I ever tell anybody that Michael tried to rape me?”

I nodded.

“No.” She stared at the glass in her hands. “No. I never did. You’re the only one who knows. I don’t know why I never said anything.” She put the glass down and twisted a lock of hair around her finger and continued. “Maybe it was because right after that, Reggie said she’d ended things with him. God, I was so relieved when she told me that. I honestly don’t know if she would have believed me if I had told her. Then Dad discovered that the money was gone and that Michael took it.”

“And then Michael was gone,” I added.

She nodded. “And then Michael was gone. Except now it appears that he wasn’t. Not in the way we all thought, anyway.” Propping her elbows on the counter, she rested her head in her hands. “What are the police going to think when they hear all this?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.

Neither of us said anything else, drinking our wine in silence. After a few minutes, however, I said, “Ann?”

“Hmmm?”

“If Michael’s dead, what happened to the money?” 

Chapter 6

Nobody, who has not been in the interior of a family, can say what difficulties of any individual of that family may be.

—Emma

Ann’s brows knit together. “I don’t know. I imagine it’s still sitting in whatever bank he dumped it. Why? Do you think we could get it back?”

“I don’t know what your options are legally if you ever find it. I guess what I really meant was, could Michael have had an accomplice? Someone from the company, maybe?”

Ann leaned back, considering my question. “I never thought about that. Do you mean that whoever he was working with could have double-crossed him and killed him?”

“It’s a possibility.”

Ann mulled this over. “I just can’t think of who would have done that.” She sighed. “But then, I was surprised to find out that Michael had stolen the money in the first place. Guess I’m not the best judge of character on that count. But I’m sure I can call Scott and get hold of the company records from back then and check who was working. I should probably talk to Miles, too; I bet he’d have some insight.”

“Oh, good idea,” I said.

Miles Carswell was Uncle Marty’s old partner and good friend. They had run the business together almost from the beginning. A few years back, Miles had left the construction business and started his own landscaping company. He and Uncle Marty had stayed close, continuing to work together, referring clients to one another, and doing joint projects.

“I saw him and Laura at the funeral,” I said, “but I didn’t get a chance to talk to them. How are they doing?”

“They’re fine. Laura’s been wonderful, calling me all the time to see how we’re doing. I wanted them to come with us to the luncheon, but Bonnie insisted that it only be family.” She sighed. “It’s ridiculous, of course, because honestly Miles is like an honorary uncle and Laura … well, for Pete’s sake, she was Mother’s best friend in college!”

Over the years, Laura had served as a kind of godmother to the girls, trying to fill the void left by their mother. She loved them all but perhaps was closest to Ann. Probably because of all the girls, Ann most resembled her mother.

“Why do you think Bonnie didn’t want them there?” I asked.

“She’s never gotten along with Laura,” said Ann. “I think she feels that Laura judges her and compares her to Mother—which is probably true.”

“And Miles?”

“That’s harder to explain,” said Ann, with a tip of her head. “But honestly, I think that Bonnie liked Miles; you should have seen how she’d flirt with him. It was embarrassing. If you ask me, one of the reasons that Miles left to start up his own company was so he wouldn’t have to deal with Bonnie chasing after him all the time.”

“You never told me any of this!”

“Well, I’m not sure I’m right—it’s only a hunch. But after Miles married Laura, Bonnie seemed to find fault with both of them. It sure sounded like jealousy to me.”