“I’m as prepared as I can be,” Daisy assured the housekeeper. “I understand you’ll be in the kitchen.”
“Yes, I will. But just so you know, there’s a button on the wall near his desk. All you have to do is press that and it rings in the kitchen. If you press it and you need anything, I’ll come running.”
For Tamlyn to say that, Rowan really must be in a state. “Good to know.”
As Tamlyn showed her to Rowan’s office, they passed the room that used to be Margaret’s den. Some husbands and wives shared the same office. On the other hand, she supposed working was easier if a person could close the door.
Daisy stood in the doorway and unzipped her fleece jacket, studying Rowan, who was bent over a printout on his desk. He looked wiped out with furrows across his brow cutting deep. His hair was a bit disheveled as if he’d run his fingers through it recently. He even had beard stubble that said he hadn’t shaved in a day or so. Where she usually had seen him in a suit, today he wore jeans and a flannel shirt. Very unlike Rowan as far as she knew.
Either hearing Tamlyn or sensing Daisy’s presence, he looked up. He waved to the chair in front of his desk. “Take a seat, Daisy.” His voice held a world of weariness.
“What’s going on?”
After closing his eyes for a moment, Rowan leaned back in his high desk chair. “That Detective Willet grilled me as if I were a Mafia boss. I couldn’t figure out why he was doing it. Yes, I know the husband is always the first suspect, but then after an hour or so, we got to the point.”
Daisy put her purse on the floor and waited for further explanation.
“Detective Willet found out that I consulted a divorce lawyer. Between that and the insurance money that I possibly could collect, I’m their number one suspect.”
Opening a drawer, he took out a book with a leather cover. When he laid it on the desk, she could see that it was a Bible. He laid his hand on it. “I swear to you, Daisy, I did not kill Margaret.”
She didn’t know enough about Rowan to know exactly what his faith was, or if a Bible really meant something to him. So she did the only thing she could do. She asked questions. “Why were you consulting a divorce lawyer? That usually means a marriage is splitting up. Was that the case with you and Margaret?”
Rowan looked down at the Bible and then at his other hand, which still bore his wedding ring. With a pained expression he disclosed, “Margaret was never forthright with me. There was a gap in her history before I met her, and she wouldn’t fill it in.”
If Rowan had been the love of Margaret’s life, why wouldn’t she confide in him? “You never met any friends of Margaret’s from that time period?”
He rocked his chair and it creaked. “Not a one. Sometimes I had the feeling her secrecy had something to do with her family’s religion.”
Margaret’s family religion had been strict. Even Vanna would attest to that. “Do you think she was hiding something terrible?”
With vehemence, he pushed the Bible away. “I don’t know about that. I suppose Margaret could have been capable of something terrible. But who defines terrible anyway? More than that, I sensed she had guilt about things she’d done. She’d just make a comment here or there, maybe under her breath or to herself, but she wouldn’t confide in me. Isn’t that what marriage is all about—being able to confide in each other and tell your deepest, darkest secrets?”
Exactly what Daisy had considered. She responded, “As you know, I was married, and we shared a lot. I don’t think either of us had any secrets from the other. But I do know that we probably had deep feelings that we didn’t always share. Me about my family and Ryan about my inability to have more children after Vi. We came together in adopting Jazzi, but that didn’t mean we shared all our thoughts and feelings. So I don’t know if I can really answer your question.”
She usually didn’t share anything so personal with a practical stranger, but she was trying to bore down to her gut feelings about Rowan and whether he could have murdered Margaret. She couldn’t seem to go deep enough to find that answer.
Nevertheless, she did have an idea. “Does Margaret still have anything packed away that might have been from her younger years?”
He easily admitted, “I haven’t looked through all of her things yet. It’s just too painful. There might be a box or two in the attic.”
“That might be a place to start if you really want to have answers.”
“You might be right.” He looked a little calmer than he had when she’d walked in. “I can look for answers. But you have a reputation for finding answers. Please, can you find some answers about Margaret? Find out what got her killed and who did it.”
Daisy jumped in immediately. “Rowan, I can’t interfere in the police investigation.”
“So don’t interfere. Skirt around the edges. From what I understand, you know how to find the personal tidbits and I think that’s what we need here. If the police are just looking at me, they’re not going to find the murderer and I could end up in jail!”
She knew Detective Rappaport and Detective Willet were good detectives, but would they settle on that one person? It had happened in the past. It could happen again.
“I’ll do what I can,” she told Rowan, knowing that Jonas and her family probably weren’t going to be too happy about that.
When Tamlyn appeared out of nowhere, Daisy wondered if Rowan had rung the bell
