"It took a little work, had to take it off and scrub the spot with hand soap. I wasn't paying attention to the time, but that must've been when you came by."
"No big deal," Gracie said. "I just wanted to chat." This certainly wasn't the time to ask Bill about the overheard conversation.
Ken walked into the den and everyone settled down. Jennifer and Cindy had joined them and sat together at one end of the big couch. Ken stood at one end of the room, with his dinner and a notebook on an end table beside him. He took a moment to finish a sandwich and wash it down with some coffee. He was aware that it gave the impression that he was in control of the crowd and would do things in his own good time - but it didn't hurt that he was hungry.
"Let me introduce myself," he began. "I'm Lieutenant Ken Freeman, I'm a homicide detective here to investigate the murder of Charles Greene."
A collective shiver seemed to go through the people watching him. They'd only learned about the death an hour ago, and somehow it made it more real to hear a policeman say the words.
With a nod to Clarissa he continued. "Mr. Greene had a meeting with Mr. Bixby this afternoon at 2:00 PM; they concluded their business and Mr. Greene left shortly before 3:00. Around 4:00 some of the Bixby staff noticed Mr. Greene's car was still parked on the drive just outside the gates and went to investigate. They found Mr. Greene lying on the grass with what appeared to be a bullet wound to the chest."
"They called 911 and paramedics pronounced him dead when they arrived. The body has been taken to the morgue. Mrs. Greene," Ken paused and looked apologetically at Jennifer. "I would appreciate it if you would come with me later and identify the body."
Jennifer broke out in a fresh fit of sobs, her face in her hands, but nodded her head mechanically. Cindy murmured, "I'll go with you, you don't have to do it alone."
"A forensics team has gone over the area, but so far hasn't found any obvious clues. His car appears undamaged, and we found his briefcase on the passenger seat, with the contract inside it." Ken looked around at the faces. "Robbery doesn't appear to be the motive, unless there's something missing we don't know about. Does anyone know if he was in the habit of keeping cash or valuables in his car?"
Everyone looked at everyone else, and slowly heads began to shake. Clarissa spoke up. "Charles would probably have had quite a bit of cash in his wallet, but he didn't keep any in the car."
Ken nodded and made a note. "A wallet was found on the body with…" He consulted his notes. "$842 in it. And credit cards. So I think we can rule out robbery."
"However," he continued. "There
was
a break-in here in this house today. Mrs. Greene's jewelry was taken, some cash from Mr. Greene's desk, a coin collection, some prescription meds, and a gun." As Jennifer still had her hands over her face he directed his remark to Cindy. "Ms. Stone, I understand you've been helping restore order."
Cindy nodded in response. "We haven't discovered anything else missing, if that's what you're asking," she said.
"Have you had a chance to go through Mr. Greene's office yet?" he asked.
"No, sir," she replied. "We thought we'd let him do that when he got home." She offered a wan smile. "He wouldn't have liked us going through his stuff."
"I understand," he said. He looked at Jennifer for a moment, then turned to Clarissa.
He asked, "Ms. Stewart, you're Mr. Greene's first wife, is that right?"
"Yes, that's correct. I took back my maiden name when we divorced."
"Do you think you could go through the office and see if you think anything's missing? I know it's a long shot, but it might be important," he explained.
Clarissa glanced at Jennifer meaningfully, but said, "I would be happy to do so, Lieutenant, but I doubt I'd know if anything was gone. Even when we were married I stayed out of his office, he considered it private." She thought for a moment, and had an uncomfortable look on her face. "Perhaps his lawyer would be a better choice. But I'll certainly take a look if you like."
"I'd appreciate that," he said. "We can get the lawyer in after you've had a look." He let his gaze wander over the assembly; he had their full attention.
"At this point it's hard to tell if the burglary is in any way connected to the murder," he pronounced. "It
might
be a coincidence. On the other hand, perhaps someone broke in looking for something in Mr. Greene's desk; if they found it and didn't like it - or if they
didn't
find what they were looking for - they could then have confronted him and shot him." Ken paused to think. "But it seems odd that it would've happened way over at the Bixby mansion," he finished.
Jim Holloway said, "But we
all
knew about the appointment, Charles made a big announcement about it at the party Saturday. He was really pumped about this sale."
Ken looked a little surprised. "You
all
knew?" he asked.
"Yeah," Jim said. "Everyone here was there. Um, let me think. Oh! Clarke was there, but he's back at school now. Yeah, I think this is the same group."
"Clarke?" Ken asked.
"My oldest son," Clarissa clarified. "He was home from school for the weekend, that's why we had the party. Surely you don't think one of
us
did it!"
"Well, I have to check everything out," Ken said in a business-like tone. "Mrs. Greene says she doesn't know of any enemies her husband might have had." He left it at that, to see what information might be forthcoming.
People looked at each other and shook their heads, Ken could hear mumbles of, "Not that I know of." and "Don't think so."
"I know this is an uncomfortable question," he began. "But was Mr. Greene in any kind of financial difficulty?"
He got the same kind of vague negative response.
"He always paid his alimony and child support on time and in full," Clarissa volunteered.
"Well, we'll certainly check that out," he said. "Now I need to ask you all where you were at 3:00 today. And in the morning, too I guess; we're not sure when the burglary took place."
People were obviously expecting this question and everyone began to talk at once. Ken noticed the two boys slip off their barstools and begin to saunter out of the room.
"Just a minute, son," he barked. "We'll start with
you
."
Justin stopped in his tracks, and his head flew up to look at the lieutenant, a look of guilty shock on his face. Zack smacked into him from behind and bounced back a step. Justin said, "Uh, me?"
Now that he had their attention Ken smiled to show he wasn't all bad. "I presume one of you two is Mr. Greene's son."
"Yeah, that's me," Justin replied suspiciously. "I'm Justin. I was at school all day, we get out at 3:30. And I don't have a car right now, so I couldn't have been there on the other side of town." His tone was rather defiant.
"Thanks, Justin," Ken replied, making a note. "And the other young man is?"
"I'm Zack Owens, sir," Zack responded. "I'm, uh, Justin's friend. I was in school too."
Zack looked like he wanted to say more, so Ken waited patiently.
"I brought Justin home after school, that's when we found out about the break-in. Jennifer - I mean Mrs. Greene - was really upset, the place was
really
trashed. But that was nearly 4:00, I think."
Ken said, "Thank you Zack. You guys understand, I have to ask everyone. Now that I've gotten your statements there's no reason you need to hang around, you can leave whenever you want."
Justin and Zack left the room, quietly for a change.
"There's something fishy about those two,"
Ken thought.
"But it doesn't have to be anything to do with the murder. Wouldn't be surprised if they'd been in trouble before."
"OK," Ken said as if dismissing the boys from his thoughts. "Mrs. Greene has given her statement to Officer Barclay; she and her friend were out shopping all morning. 911 recorded her call at 2:53 PM, and the officer arrived here shortly after 3:00. He noted that Ms. Stone arrived at approximately 3:15 so it's doubtful she could have been involved." With an apologetic nod to Cindy he said, "We'll check the phone company records of course, but I don't think you would've had time to make the drive from across town."
He turned to look at Clarissa. "Ms. Stewart, what about you?"
"I'm a secretary at Maxco Engineering, I was at work until noon," Clarissa said calmly. "Then I drove to the country club where I met friends for lunch and a charity golf tournament. I got home around 5:00."
Gracie sat next to her mother so Ken turned to her next. "Miss Greene?"
"I was at school all day, Lieutenant," she said in a serious voice, as if she were giving testimony at a trial.
Ken gave her a little wink and surveyed the rest of the crowd.
"You, sir," he said nodding to Clay.
"My name's Clay Wilson. I'm Clarissa's boyfriend," he responded. "I was at work during the morning, at Turner and Associates. I spent the afternoon with my daughter, Candy. She'll verify that."
"Of course. Thank you, Mr. Wilson." Ken paused between each question to make notes. The large noisy woman was next. "And you are?"
"Huh? Oh, me?" Jeanine seemed surprised to be asked. "Hell, I'm the dead man's sister!" she exclaimed. "Not that he treated me like family, son of a bitch wouldn't even give me a little loan to help me out."
Ken looked up from writing.
That
was a very interesting statement. "I need your name for the record," he told her.
"Jeanine," she said. "I was at bingo all afternoon. Got shitty cards too, didn't win a dime."
Ken tried not to sigh in exasperation. "Which bingo hall would that be, Ma'am?"
"Oh, the one on 16th street," Jeanine seemed at a loss for the name. "Lots-O-Luck,
that's
the name!"
"And during the morning?" Ken prompted.
"I'm off Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Had to go to the laundrymat, damned washer's broke again, it won't drain," she replied.
"What's your last name please, Ma'am?" he asked. This one didn't follow instructions well, and volunteered information that others would keep quiet about. Which might or might not mean anything.
"Jeanine Thomas," she said. "I'm his baby sister," she added.
"Thank you. You're next, sir."
"My name is Bill Conover. I'm - was - Charles' good friend. We went to college together, been friends ever since," Bill explained. "I was doing research in the chem lab at the university. I had classes in the morning. Tuesday's my light teaching day, so I spent the whole afternoon at the lab."
Ken nodded and turned to the well-dressed couple. "And what are your names?"
"Jim Holloway, and this is my wife Susan," Jim replied. "I'm a doctor, I was seeing patients all afternoon. My offices are located in the Northwest Medical Tower, by Mercy General."
"I was at the golf tournament with Clarissa," said Susan. "I'm on the committee so I stayed to finish up some details with the donations, I only got home a few minutes before Cindy called with the news. But - I might be able to help with the theft."
The room was suddenly quiet, and everyone turned to look at Susan. "Yes?" Ken asked.
"Well, I spent the morning making calls on behalf of another charity," she began. "And then I realized I needed to get to the country club and I happened to notice Charles' car in the driveway as I was leaving."
"What time was this, Mrs. Holloway?"
"It was around 10:00 AM," she said. "I thought it was a
little
bit odd, he doesn't usually come home during the day. But he does sometimes, it's not like he has to stay at the office all day. Salesmen don't keep regular hours."
"Did you see Mr. Greene?" he asked.
"No, just his car," she replied. "He must've dropped by to get something for his presentation. He said he'd been working on it at home over the weekend."
"Did you happen to notice when Mrs. Greene left this morning?" he asked.
"No, she keeps her car in the garage so it's hard to tell if she's home or not," she replied.
Ken took a few moments to look over his notes. "Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen," he announced. "I think that will do it for this evening. I will want to talk to you all sometime tomorrow, so please give me your contact info before you leave."
"Again, I'm sorry for your loss and thank you for being here tonight."
* * * *
Back home once again after the family meeting with Lieutenant Freeman Gracie was sitting in her bedroom, thinking. She was
so
confused! It had been such a shock when her mother had told her about Cindy's call. And
Cindy
- why hadn't
Jennifer
called? Probably, Gracie thought uncharitably, because Jennifer knew she wouldn't sound properly upset. Not that anyone really believed Jennifer had in any way loved her father, nor that he had loved her. She was a beautiful young woman, he was rich. Everyone understood - and accepted - the arrangement.
No, Cindy had called everyone with the bad news because Cindy knew it had to be done, and she was the kind of person who took care of the details even if they weren't pleasant. Too bad Dad hadn't married
her
! Cindy would've made his life comfortable and taken good care of his wants and needs. She'd make someone a good wife someday.
Gracie tried to picture the kind of man Cindy might marry, but for some reason she kept coming up blank. As far as she knew, Cindy didn't even date. Maybe she just didn't have a serious boyfriend, and that's why she never brought a date to the parties. She worked evenings, Gracie knew, at some call center. That would make it tough to date, but not impossible.
Maybe it was because she hung around with Jennifer all the time. What guy would give Cindy (or any girl, for that matter) a second look with Jennifer stealing the show? They must be really good friends for that not to bother Cindy.
Unless, of course, Cindy wasn't interested in men. Now
that
was a thought! But wouldn't the same thing apply in meeting other women? Jennifer was married, she wouldn't care; but human beings preferred pretty people, regardless of their sexual orientation. Quiet, mousy Cindy would have trouble meeting anyone when Jennifer was around.
Gracie felt like she was on the verge of figuring it out but couldn't quite put it together. Why spend all your time with someone who would steal the spotlight and leave you sitting home alone on Friday night? Except that Cindy worked nights and spent her days with Jennifer. Gracie shook her head, that was circular logic.
She was hungry, the sandwiches hadn't been enough. She rolled off her bed and padded down the hall into the kitchen to check the fridge. There was some leftover fried chicken and several cups of yogurt. The chicken sounded better, but at nearly 10:00 at night she didn't need the extra calories from the greasy chicken. She opened a cup of blueberry yogurt and headed back to her room.
Something about grease and calories was knocking at her brain. Halfway down the hall she suddenly remembered what it was. At the party Jennifer had snatched up a meatball and popped it in her mouth. Jennifer would
never
eat a greasy meatball, it was against her religion, meaning her vanity.
"Think!"
she commanded herself. What had Jennifer been doing just before that? Something she'd stopped doing, something that was worth eating a meatball to keep me from seeing.
Gracie replayed the scene in her head; she remembered walking around the table, Jennifer and Cindy were standing behind it. "Holding hands! That's what Jennifer didn't want me to see," Gracie said aloud. "Then they'd gone in the house together, and I thought she just didn't want to talk to me."
That was it, Jennifer and Cindy were a couple. That answered all the riddles, explained why they spent so much time together and why Cindy never had a boyfriend. Cindy worked evenings so she could spend her mornings with Jennifer, and Jennifer would be home in the evenings with her husband.
But, if that were true, why had Jennifer married Dad? Was she bi? Was Cindy just her fun on the side, like Dad had his many flings? That didn't make sense, Cindy had always been Jennifer's friend. Well, at least for the year and a half that Gracie had known them. It must be a fairly committed relationship.
"OK," she told herself, "Think it out. Jennifer and Cindy care about each other, but Jennifer marries Dad. Now she lives in a big expensive house and spends her days shopping, while Cindy lives
somewhere
and works a crummy job."
Money. That was it. Jennifer had access to rather a lot of money - and would get more if her husband died. Then Cindy would move into the house, or Jennifer would
sell
the house, and they'd be set up. That had to be it.
But would it happen that way? Dad might well have been dazzled by Jennifer's cleavage, but surely he wouldn't leave all his money to her. Wouldn't most of it go to us kids? They'd only been married a year, he'd had plenty of time to change his will. He sold insurance, surely he had a life insurance policy on himself. Who was the beneficiary?
She scraped the last of the yogurt off the sides of the cup as she thought about it. What was it that Shawna had talked about last year when her mom had re-married? A pre- something. "Pre-nuptial, that's what she called it. Both people agreed on what they would and wouldn't get if they divorced."
It had sounded silly to them then, if you love someone why put limits on the marriage? Now Gracie began to see the reasons. You wouldn't want the new wife to get everything if you had kids. Dad wasn't stupid, had he made Jennifer sign one? Was there something in it that changed when they'd been married for a year?
Maybe that explained the "burglary", she thought. Jennifer was looking for a copy of the pre-nuptial in Dad's office, it would be just like her
not
to have a copy herself. She
said
she'd been shopping, but maybe she'd really been home looking for it. But in that case, why tear up the rest of the house? That didn't make sense.