“Goodnight, Charlee.” He gave me a forlorn smile.
“Goodnight. And, Preston, thank you.”
“Anytime.” He squeezed my hand as he walked past me into the parking lot.
I took a fortifying breath, as Preston’s words sunk into my head. I didn’t have time to dwell on Harper’s hurtful comments. Her life had no bearing on mine. And until Fern had been cleared of the murder charge, I still had a killer to catch.
So I’d better get busy.
Chapter Twenty
Right after breakfast the following morning, I printed off the bank statements I’d emailed from my phone. A quick study revealed a series of payments from Russell Jenkins. And that’s where it started to get confusing.
Around the time when I’d been told Earl had retired, Russell had made monthly direct deposits to Earl for the same amount, except for the last payment, which was significantly more. This went on for nine months.
I assumed that Earl had agreed to give Russell some time to buy him out, and the smaller payments led up to a larger balloon payment at the end. That all made sense.
Then eight months later another direct deposit showed up for an amount double the previous monthly payments. The same payment was deposited on the same date every month until three months ago.
What I didn’t understand was why Russell was paying Earl again, when he’d already paid for the business. But I intended to find out. It was a joint savings account, and I suspected that Patty Henderson knew exactly what that money was for.
A short time later, I stood on Patty’s front porch with a plate of freshly baked lemon blueberry muffins. Sugar was always a good way to soften people up. Perhaps it would have been wise to try that approach with Sting Ray. He was pretty skinny and could have used some fattening up. Although with all that chain smoking, I doubt he took much of a break to eat.
I rang the doorbell, then stepped back and waited.
Patty opened the door about thirty seconds later, a startled expression on her face. “Charlee, hi.” She recovered with a smile, clearly not expecting to see me.
“Hi, Patty,” I smiled, holding out the muffins. “I just finished baking these and thought you might like some.”
She took the offering. “Oh, well, thank you.”
“I was also hoping I could ask you a few questions.”
Her headed dipped in a nod, somewhat hesitantly. “Yes, of course. Come in.”
I followed Patty to the kitchen, where she retrieved two mugs from a cupboard. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Yes, please,” I replied, taking a seat at the dining table.
Patty placed a mug of coffee before me, taking the seat across from me.
“Thank you.” I reached into my purse, pulled out the bank statements, and slid them toward her.
“What’s this?” She glanced at the documents, seemingly bewildered.
“It’s a copy of your bank statements,” I answered nonchalantly, hoping not to raise her ire.
“What?” Her head snapped up. “Where did you get these?” Surprisingly, she seemed more anxious than angry, which was better than the alternative.
“It doesn’t matter,” I deflected. “What I would like to know is what these payments were for.” I pointed to the entries highlighted in yellow.
She barely glanced at it. “I have no idea.”
“Isn’t this your joint savings account?” I asked calmly.
She swallowed nervously. “Well, I guess, but that doesn’t mean I know what this is,” her hand gestured to the document before her.
“Well, it appears to be payments from Russell Jenkins,” I stated the obvious, then stopped, waiting for her to elaborate.
Patty lifted the papers to study them closer. “Yes, it looks that way. This is dated from a few years ago,” she muttered, recognition finally dawning. “When Earl retired, Russell made payments to buy him out. I don’t understand why you care to know about that, or that it’s any of your business,” she scowled.
Okay, I figured that was coming. “I’m trying to find out who killed your husband, Patty,” I said as politely as I could. “I’m trying to help you.”
Her scowl lessened slightly.
“Can you tell me what these payments are for?” I flipped to another page.
She studied them for a moment, then shook her head. “I’m not sure.”
Yeah right. “Russell deposited this amount in your account for over a year.”
“Did he?” She held the statement closer to her face. “I don’t recall seeing this before.”
I tried not to roll my eyes.
Lowering the statement, she looked back at me. “I swear, I have no idea what this is for. Earl handled all the banking and finances. I hardly ever go to the bank.”
I wasn’t sure I believed her, even though she did appear honestly confused. It shouldn’t surprise me that Earl would have kept their finances from her. I just assumed that in this day and age women had control of their money, or at least knowledge of what was going on.
Then again, I was more than thirty years younger than Patty and single. She’d been married for most of her life, and if Earl was dominant, which I highly suspected he was, he could have easily kept this from her. Just like his side business of delivering packages.
“Well, the payments stopped three months ago. Can you think of any reason why Russell would have paid your husband such a significant amount of money for so long, and then just stopped?”
She shook her head. “Earl never talked about Russell. I know he was upset that he didn’t get what he wanted out of the business. And after that, he moved on. Do you think Russell had something to do with Earl’s…” her voice trailed off, unable to say the word murder.
Possibly. Maybe. Probably. “I don’t know,” I eventually replied. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Why did you lie about having an insurance policy?”
Patty’s face blanched. “I, uh, I didn’t,” she denied.
I pulled the copy of the policy from
