I thought Brandt might tuck his legs up under him and cower-he looked that scared of a little old cat.
“Get your damn cat away from me,” he nearly screamed.
Candace hadn’t moved, and I swore Kara was holding back a smile. Brandt was definitely showing his less- than-tough side. He was no alley cat, that’s for sure.
“I have no control over Syrah, Brandt. Sorry,” I said.
But Syrah didn’t need coaxing to back off. Done with his intimidation, he jumped down and walked slowly away with one backward hiss for good measure.
Evan still hadn’t sat back down, and the hands at his sides were balled into fists.
Candace said, “Evan, Jillian doesn’t want her house used for WrestleMania. Could you sit down?”
“No. I’m out of here.” He turned and marched toward the foyer. Thank goodness he didn’t slam the door when he left.
“Did you block him in?” I asked Kara.
“I did,” Kara said. “Come on, Brandt. Let’s settle this outside, and then I’ll take you back to the motel. I don’t think riding with Evan is a great idea.”
“I’ll walk you out and make sure this problem is handled peacefully.” Candace got up quickly and went ahead of them so they could see the gun in her waistband.
I was certain a gun wouldn’t be necessary, but it sure did speak loud and clear tucked in a cop’s jeans. I breathed a sigh of relief after they went outside. Two cats immediately arrived to comfort me. Only two. Gosh, I missed my cuddliest kitty of all, Chablis. But she apparently felt the need to care for the guests who didn’t cause a ruckus, the ones downstairs.
Kara and Candace came back inside a minute later.
“I thought you were taking Brandt back to the motel,” I said.
“Evan cooled down and they took off together,” Candace said. “I’m betting this kind of thing happens all the time between them.”
I’d gotten up off the floor and was sitting on the sofa. Merlot was settling next to me, and Syrah had taken his spot on the couch back near my head.
“Still, I hope they don’t kill each other once they get back to the motel,” Kara said, heading past me for the fridge.
Candace stared after her. “Not great word choices.”
“Sorry,” Kara called. “People are dead. I know. But I have got to tell you guys what I found out today.” She came back into the living room, a Red Bull in hand.
I looked at the can.
“What?” she said. “You want one?”
“Not this late,” I said. “I like my sleep.”
Candace removed her gun, set it on the end table and sat down again.
Kara reclaimed her father’s chair. “I have info on your case. Be nice and I’ll share.”
Candace closed her eyes, seemed to be gathering herself. If she had to play sweet to get information, I knew she’d find her inner candy cane.
“What did you find out?” I said, hoping to give Candace a little more time to begin liking Kara, if only for tonight.
“Evan’s got a record, for one thing,” she said.
“We know,” Candace said, her tone even. “Despite how the police station looks, we do have computers and access to databases.”
“I figured as much,” Kara said. “But did you know that the professor hadn’t paid his wife any of his court- ordered support since they got divorced?”
“Have to admit, I didn’t know that,” Candace said. “How’s that relevant?”
Kara leaned back and swigged her Red Bull before answering. “No money for support, but money to buy property. That didn’t sit well with Sarah VanKleet.”
Candace leaned forward. Now Kara had her attention. “She was angry?”
“According to Brandt, furious is more like it,” Kara said. “Apparently the professor had bipolar illness and she’d taken care of him for years. She finally left, he went off his meds and then turned that into an excuse for forgetting to pay support. Or at least that’s what he told the judge.”
“She took him to court?” I said.
“Yes,” Kara answered. “And according to Brandt-the biggest mama’s boy I’ve ever met-he had to be there with his mother. He said the judge bought the professor’s pitiful act. Gave him time to get back on his medication and find a job before paying the back support.”
“Even though the professor had this property as an asset?” Candace said.
Kara nodded. “Brandt said his father could act crazy anytime he wanted to. And what better time than when he was in front of a judge and about to lose his precious farm?”
“So Sarah VanKleet had more serious money problems than the chief and I realized,” Candace said.
“Yes. Even before the professor was fired-for doing illegal research,” Kara said. “Brandt was ashamed of that.”
I was impressed. Kara really had learned her trade as a journalist, and she’d done a great job getting information from Brandt. “Good work, Kara,” I said.
“I thought it would be tricky,” Kara said. “I couldn’t misrepresent myself to Brandt if I wanted to use what he said in my book, but he loves to talk, so I never said anything about my plans.”
“Guess he talked up a storm because you’re not the police. He didn’t tell me anything when I interviewed him. However, we did know about his father getting fired,” Candace said. “But you’re helping me understand the victim better, and that’s the key to solving most whodunits.”
Kara smiled. Not a smug smile, either. She seemed genuinely pleased to be helping. “Sarah VanKleet had to get a job, so she went to work as a secretary in the registrar’s office at the college. She’s less stressed now, despite the court ruling, according to Brandt. Seems she and Lieber are living together.”
“And from what we found out, Lieber was friends with the VanKleets long before the divorce,” Candace said, half to herself. “Sarah and Lieber becoming a couple apparently upset the professor big time, so-” She stopped herself.
“Go on,” Kara said. “I didn’t know about this part.”
Neither did I. Candace must have learned this from Lieber earlier today.
Candace’s face remained impassive, but I was sure she was mentally kicking herself for saying too much. “That’s all. The professor was upset with his situation.”
“I get it,” Kara said. “Ongoing investigation. But I’ve been a good girl and told you all about today.”
“And I thank you,” Candace said. “Did you learn anything else that might help us find the killer?”
“Only that Sarah VanKleet had lots of questions about who would inherit the property,” Kara said. “Brandt said he couldn’t be sure until they know if there’s a will. You didn’t happen to find a will in the house?”
Candace just smiled. She wasn’t about to spill anything else. “Sounds like you spent time with Mrs. VanKleet today, too.”
“We did stop by the bed-and-breakfast where she’s staying. They do a nice lunch there.” Kara stood. “As for that will, I’m sure somebody in town will know. One thing I’ve learned is that people sure like to talk in Mercy. Belle is a wealth of information, and she might know by tomorrow.”
“That’s so true, I’m actually ashamed to call myself a cop,” Candace said with a laugh.
I wanted to say, “See how fun it is to share, girls?” as if these two were five-year-olds. But I kept my mouth shut, appreciating the ease in tension between them.
Kara said, “Think I’ll go to my room and talk to my little recorder before I forget what I learned today.” She walked past us, Red Bull in hand, and left us alone.
“Tonight’s information settles it,” Candace said. “We’re going to that college tomorrow to get the truth about what went on there.”
“I’m game,” I said. “But what’s your focus now?”
“I need answers about what really went on in Denman. Brandt claims the professor was faking. Evan thinks he was a sick man. What’s the truth?”
“I’m betting the truth lies somewhere in between,” I said. “What about Kara?”
