Sarah Woods Mystery Series (1-6) Boxed Set Page 5

  “This is Melissa Foley,” he said. “She was Beth’s housemate.”

  We all shook hands. I remembered Beth mentioning that she shared a house with a young woman about her age. Melissa was stunning, which was why I had figured her to be the girlfriend.

  “We’re so sorry for your loss,” I said, and immediately regretted my choice of words. I should have said something more personal.

  “Thank you. She’ll be dearly missed,” he said, inclining his head.

  I nodded back, not knowing what else to say.

  “I hope you ladies will join us after the service for refreshments.” He indicated an adjoining room, patted me on the shoulder, and excused himself.

  Melissa’s eyes followed Max as he joined a nearby group of women, then she turned back to us and smiled. “So, you’re the Sarah Beth worked for?”

  “Yes.”

  “Beth had such nice things to say about you.” Melissa tilted her head to one side as she continued. “She told me you were the best boss she’d ever worked for.”

  “Really? That’s so nice. She was such a sweetheart. I never had a moment’s regret about hiring her. She was the best thing to happen to my business in a long time.” Shaking my head and looking down at my feet, I added, “She was so excited about her impending marriage. It just breaks my heart.”

  “Mine, too,” Melissa commiserated. “The house feels so empty without her.”

  “Melissa, it’s probably not the best time to talk about this,” I began, biting my lip, “but did you happen to know her fiancé very well?” Her facial expression didn’t change, but her body seemed to tense slightly.

  “Oh, I didn’t really get to know him that well. He seemed alright.” She began looking around the room, and I got the feeling she’d rather not discuss him. Probably a good idea.

  “I’m surprised he’s not here today,” I said anyway.

  “Excuse me, I need to use the ladies’,” Melissa said suddenly. “It was so nice to meet you both.” A faint smell of tangy perfume lingered in the wake of her hasty retreat.

  Gabby looked at me with a crooked smile. “Okay. That was a little weird.”

  “It was my fault. I should have kept my big mouth shut.”

  Gabby and I took seats at the back as the service began. A reverend said all the things one would expect a reverend to say in that way reverends have of suggesting that they knew the deceased personally. Perhaps he did. Max put on a brave front, maintaining his composure almost to the end of a touching eulogy. When he finally broke down at the very end, even Gabby had a tough time controlling herself, a rare thing to behold. As people began to filter out, I suggested that we wait, hoping to have a moment alone with Max. But the opportunity never presented itself.

  “Okay, Gabby,” I finally said, “let’s head out. I know you have clients this afternoon. I’ll drop you at the office.”

  We slowly made our way outside. As we rounded the corner of the building on the way to the car, I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, a solitary figure. Looking over, I saw Jacob, standing alone, one hand stuffed in the pocket of his black hoody, the other hovering near his mouth holding a cigarette.

  “Gabby, go on to the car,” I said softly. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Jacob didn’t seem to see me at first. His head was lowered as if he was inspecting his shoes.

  “Why are you standing out here, Jacob? The service just ended.” His unshaven face was gaunt, and he smelled of alcohol.

  “Hey,” Jacob said, looking up, his voice barely audible.

  “I’m so sorry about Beth,” I said, stopping a few feet from him. The conversation with Max the day before kept me from going up to him and hugging him. There was no reason for me to be afraid, but, still, I felt a little nervous being alone with him.

  He nodded and wiped his eyes.

  We stood there, awkwardly, without speaking. It was obvious he had nothing more to say.

  “Jacob, what’s going on? Why does Beth’s brother think you had something to do with her death?” I asked, more bluntly than I intended.

  Jacob looked back down at his feet. “I was in love with Beth. I could never hurt her. I don’t know what Max’s problem is, but I swear ... ” His face was turning red and I could sense he was about to lose it.

  “Look, I believe you. Okay?”

  It was obvious he was in pain. He’d dropped and crushed out the cigarette and was pressing his fingers into his temples.

  “By the way, a friend of Beth’s came to my office yesterday. Her name was Lindy. Do you know her by any chance?”

  He paused, brought his hands forward over his face covering his eyes, then let out a long sigh and dropped his arms at his side.

  “Yeah, I know Lindy. But she was no friend of Beth’s. Lindy is my ex-girlfriend. We broke up over a year ago, right before I met Beth.”

  “Holy crap!” I said. “Well, that explains it.”

  “Explains what?” Jacob asked wearily.

  “Beth was in her car,” I said, drawing closer to him.

  “So?”

  “So maybe it was Lindy.”

  “Look, Sarah, Lindy might have been a bit jealous, but she would never kill anyone.”

  “All I know, so far, is that she’s the only one who seems to have a motive.”

  “But she didn’t kill Beth.”

  “How can you be sure, Jacob?” I persisted.

  “Because, damn it, she was with me the night Beth was killed.”

  “What?”

  All I could do was shake my head. I waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, I did.

  “So? I don’t get it.” I was planted right in front of him at this point, arms crossed on my chest.

  He finally looked up. “Lindy just wanted to talk that night. She was a bit hysterical on the phone, so I agreed to see her. She told me she was still in love with me, and that I couldn’t marry Beth. She threatened to kill herself, and I didn’t think she should be alone.” Jacob closed his eyes. “So I told her I’d meet her for a drink, just to talk. We were at Barney’s until ten. The bartender can confirm it.”

  “Maybe she hired someone to do it then.”

  “Christ, will you just lay off it, Sarah? Lindy didn’t have anything to do with it. My God, let it be. This doesn’t concern you anyway.” He covered his face with his hands again.

  Doesn’t concern me? Furious, I shook my head, turned, and walked away.

  “Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” I heard behind me, but I neither looked back nor broke my stride.

  Chapter 11

  Gabby looked over at me as we drove back to the office. She must have sensed my frustration because she remained quiet.

  “Lindy and Jacob were lovers before he met Beth,” I finally blurted out, “and they were together the night she died. They have an alibi.”

  “But I still don’t understand why she’d come to the office and lie about being Beth’s friend. Why would she risk exposing herself?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she was trying to get information. If she did hire someone to kill Beth”-Gabby shot me a quizzical look-“I imagine she’d want to know if the police had any leads.”

  “Sarah, I think it’s time for you to call that detective and give him whatever information you have. Even if Jacob is convinced Lindy had nothing to do with the murder. It sounds like he’s trying to protect her for some reason.”

  “I’m getting the same feeling. I guess Max is right to feel the way he does about Jacob,” I said, as we pulled up in front of the office.

  “Promise me you’ll call him,” Gabby said as she got out of the car.

  “I’m going over to the police station right now,” I said, and waved.

  As I watched Gabby walk into the office, I sat thinking, still trying to make sense of my brief encounter with Jacob. Was it such a stretch to imagine a heartbroken woman hiring someone to eliminate the competition?

  Chapter12

  Detective Flynn sat
back in his chair, hands behind his head, obviously trying to digest the information I’d just given him about Jacob and Lindy.

  “Okay,” he said finally, “I’ll look into it. We can pull up her record from the plate number. We can at least bring her in for questioning. Right now, she’s the only person of interest we have.”

  “Is there anything else I can do to help in the meantime?” I asked, fidgeting in the hard chair that faced the desk. I wondered if the furnishings provided were intended to encourage short interviews.

  “My advice, Sarah, is to stay far away from Jacob and Lindy. You don’t want to get further mixed up in this. Let me handle it from here on.”

  As I walked back out to my car, I noticed a text message from Brian.

  Hey, Mom. Going to Nick’s to study for test. Home around dinnertime.

  My mood instantly improved. Was I actually going to see my son for dinner? Was he finally going to grace me with his presence? Almost giggling, I opened the car door when out of nowhere a familiar voice shook me to my toes.

  “Hey SarahGot worried when you suddenly left the funeral home.”

  Max was standing on the other side of the street, a hand on one hip.

  “Shit, you scared me,” I gasped, planting a hand on my chest.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, crossing the street and standing next to me, his green eyes examining my face. “I was so distracted. More people showed up than I expected. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

  “Sure. I guess so. Over coffee at Starbucks?” I raised a finger in the direction of a sign further down the block.

  “That’ll be fine.”

  As we walked slowly towards the coffee shop and I drew my scarf a little tighter, a disconcerting thought occurred to me that I voiced before thinking. “Max, how is it that you always know where to find me? The diner a few days ago. Now here at the police station. It’s starting to freak me out a little.”

  He smiled broadly and shrugged. “Actually, the first time, at the diner, was pure coincidence. I was stopping there for a cup of coffee when I noticed your car. You have a magnetic sign on the door with the name of your business. Remember? And I recognized you from the photo on the business card Beth showed me once. The reason I knew you were here now is because I went to your office looking for you and your friend Gabby told me where you were.” His eyes were focused on the sidewalk. His smile, although not as broad, persisted. It disappeared when I asked if he’d seen Jacob outside the building after the service.

  “He was there?”

  I nodded.

  We went into Starbucks, ordered some coffee, and sat at a private table in the corner.

  “I approached him,” I informed Max, “and he had some very interesting things to tell me.” When I had related the gist of my conversation with Jacob, Max leaned back in his chair, stared at me across the table, and tapped a finger on the lid of his cup.

  “What do you think, Sarah?” he finally said. “Did this Lindy person kill my little sister so she could have Jacob all to herself?”

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense to me right now.”

  Without warning, Max slammed his fist down on the table. The reverberating crash caught the attention of the other coffee drinkers lounging nearby.

  “Son of a bitch!” he seethed, lips curling into his teeth, eyes squeezed shut.

  “I wish there was something more we could do right now,” I said, reaching over and placing my hand over his clenched fist. He was shaking. Opening his fist, he clasped my hand and held it. He took a deep breath and managed a smile. We sat for a few minutes in silence, sipping our coffee.

  “What are you doing tonight, Max?” I asked.

  “No plans,” he said, and shrugged.

  “You’re welcome to have dinner with me and my son, Brian,” I said, not believing what I was doing. Had I just invited him home for dinner? I barely knew him.

  My heart was beating a little faster than it should have been. I was nervous. More nervous that he might say yes than no. He took his time thinking about it. It was a mistake and I had to find a way to back out.

  “I’d love to come for dinner,” he said finally. “What can I bring?”

  Chapter 13

  “Mom, what are you doing to the kitchen?” Brian said as he came up to me and wiped something off my cheek. “Looks like a flour bomb went off in here.”

  “Oh, hi honey. I have this new recipe I’m working on, and, as you can see, it got a little out of hand,” I explained, looking around the kitchen.

  “So what’re you making?”

  “It’s a surprise,” I said, because I still wasn’t sure.

  “By the way, I went to Beth’s service today, and I invited Beth’s brother, Max, over for dinner tonight.”

  “Cool.” Brian’s tone was casual. He grabbed a celery stalk from the counter, took a bite, and walked into the living room.

  Glancing at the wall clock and realizing Max was due in ten minutes, I frantically threw everything in with the chicken breast and stuffed the pot in the oven to cook. The doorbell rang just as I finished cleaning the counters. I opened the door to Max standing with a wine bottle in his hand.

  “Sorry. I’m a little early. How about a glass of vino before dinner?”

  Max looked relaxed in his loose, faded jeans and button down blue shirt. I stepped aside as he walked past and into my home. The scent of pine needles or some kind of woodsy cologne followed in his wake.

  “Max, this is my son, Brian. Brian, this is Max.” They shook hands and Max started sniffing the air.

  “Something smells wonderful,” he said.

  “My mom’s not the best cook,” Brian cautioned, “so don’t get your hopes up. We may end up ordering pizza tonight.”

  “Hey, either way sounds good to me,” Max said agreeably.

  “Well, at least now we have the wine,” I said, heading towards the kitchen for the corkscrew. “The more we drink, the better the food will taste.”

  Max followed me. “Your son is pretty funny,” he said, handing me the wine bottle.

  “He’s a good kid,” I said, extracting the cork and filling two glasses, “but I never see him anymore. It’s all about the friends these days.”

  “He’s a teenager,” Max replied. “You’re lucky he even talks to you.”

  I laughed as I handed him one of the goblets and picked up the other one.

  “To Beth,” I said, raising the glass.

  Max smiled and nodded. We sipped the wine and sat opposite one another at the kitchen table.

  “So, what was your relationship with your sister like growing up?” I asked.

  Max set his glass on the table, placed his hands in his lap, and stared up at the ceiling. “Oh, typical I guess. She was five years younger and I suppose I was a little protective of her. She thought I was a big snore.” He smiled. “Anyway, we’d grown much closer since our parents died a few years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry. What happened?”

  “Car accident. They had both retired the year before and were always talking about going on a cross-country road trip, just the two of them. They kept putting it off for one reason or another. Finally, Beth and I convinced them to go. For their anniversary we got them a GPS.” He picked up his glass and swished the wine around a few times.

  “That is so awful. I’m sorry,” I said.

  I tried to compensate for the awkwardness of the moment by getting up to check on our dinner. When I looked over at him, the stem of his wine glass was in the air. I felt such profound sadness for him. Life had dealt him some pretty shitty cards. His parents were gone, and now his sister. I was almost afraid to ask about a girlfriend. But I did.

  “So, Max, do you have a pretty young lady in your life?”

  “Her name is Marsha Brady. She’s been living with me for two years now,” he said, smiling up at me as I refilled his wine glass.

  “Her name is really Marsha Brady?” I said, laughing.

  “Well, tha
t’s what I named her two years ago when I brought her home from the breeder,” he said, trying to keep a straight face.

  I couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Aren’t you a little young to remember that show? You weren’t even alive in the seventies,” I said, immediately regretting opening the Pandora’s box of the age thing.

  “Well, you’re not much older than me, Sarah,” he said, raising one eyebrow.

  “Ha, you’re funny.”

  “What? How old are you?”

  “You know it’s not polite to ask a woman her age, but I’ll tell you anyway. I’m forty-two.” I smiled at his seemingly genuine look of surprise.

  “Well, you look great,” he said, elevating his wine glass and winking.

  “So what kind of dog is Marsha Brady?” I asked, trying to ignore his flattery.

  “She’s an English Bulldog, and the love of my life.”

  “Oh God,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You’re one of those.”

  After dinner, Max announced that he and Brian would clean up. Max refilled my wine glass and told me to sit back and relax. I didn’t object. In fact, I took great pride in watching my son doing chores.

  They were just about finished when the phone rang. I ignored it, but Brian ran over and answered it.

  “Hi Dad,” he said, taking it into the other room.

  Max looked over at me and gave me a look I couldn’t quite read. He wiped his hands on a dishtowel and joined me at the kitchen table.

  “So, can I ask you a personal question?” he asked, and blinked at me.

  “Sure.”

  “Are you happily married?”

  I was hoping the topic wouldn’t come up, but I’d stalled as long as I could.

  “Wow. That’s a loaded question,” I said. “You want the long or short version?”

  “It’s a simple yes or no.”

  “I wish it were simple, but it isn’t.” I dropped my eyes but could feel his burning a hole in my forehead.

  “So how long have you been unhappy?” he asked, not missing a beat.