Carolyn Arnold - McKinley 03 - Money is Murder (2 page)

A Trip Into The Past

QUINN
’S HOUSE WAS AN OLDER, two-story red-brick in a quaint neighborhood. Dental molding accented the crest of the roof and the fascia, at the front of the home.

Sean unlocked the door and a sense of melancholy trickled over him. This place was now his, along with everything else Quinn had left him. Stepping inside, the overwhelming ambience impressed on him that he was somehow invading a sanctioned place, and that by his presence, he was a trespasser.

“The last time I was here was ten years ago, give or take. It’s not right, my being here now.”

Sara laced her hand into Sean
’s and drew him to her. “He wanted you to have all of this, darling. He valued your friendship. He understood.”

He had let her read the letter from Quinn, the one that included the words cautioning him not to experience any regrets—Sean found it harder to abide by that advice. Somehow, self-flagellation seemed appropriate in light of what he’d received in compensation for his kind act all those years ago. Who, other than Quinn, would place such a high reward on kindness?

Sean kissed Sara
’s forehead and she drew back, studying his eyes.

“I can tell this is hard for you.”

“It is.” He looked away from her, finding it hard to match eyes when a swirl of emotions churned his gut.

“Mr. Quinn wanted you to have this key,” she held it up and passed it to him, “and he wants you to find out where it goes.”

“Sometimes it feels like this is one big misunderstanding and that I’m going to wake up. They have the wrong Sean McKinley.”

“You know you’re the right one. Let’s find what Mr. Quinn left for you.”

He nodded. She was right. Quinn had been a grown man, and if he had been compelled to leave everything to Sean, who was he to argue?

“Do you want to split up?” he asked.

“Darling? We’ve only been married for about a month.” She laughed, narrowing her eyes to a seductive trace.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do. I’m just giving you a hard time.”

“Isn’t that my job?” He scooped her into his arms and took her mouth.

She flirtatiously filtered out of his embrace.

“Fine, you’re breaking my heart, but fine.”

“Oh, Sean, I’m sure you’ll survive a few minutes without me right by your side. Besides, you are the one who suggested we go our separate ways.” She pranced off in the direction of the stairs, blowing him a kiss before going up.

Sean investigated the main level. The living area was positioned right inside the front door. There wasn’t a sectioned entry, but a lonely coat rack and rubber mat identified the space.

All Quinn
’s furniture was dated but in good condition. There were plastic sleeves on the arms of the couch and sofa chair. Sean smiled when he realized this. He remembered Quinn’s advice about their use—Sean had told him that’s only what old people do. Quinn had conceded that he did fit into that category.

Sean touched his fingertips to the plastic, transporting himself back to Quinn’s presence,
savoring the memories for a few seconds longer before moving on to survey the room.

He ran his hand along shelving and media cabinets, searching all the doors and edges for a hole
that would accept a skeleton key.

He went on to the kitchen, checking every cupboard and the pantry. When he finished, he paused outside the basement door, which appeared to be older with inset molding, a dark brass knob plate, and a wooden handle. Beneath it was a key slot.

Could it be that easy?

He put the key in, but it fit loosely. He let out the breath he had been holding. Quinn had faith in him and it was time he developed some in himself. He wasn
’t going to give up until he found where the key belonged.

Sara stepped into Quinn’s bedroom, despite the odd feeling she was imposing on a stranger’s life, a man she only knew through stories that Sean had shared with her. While she wished that she had known Sean earlier in life, she appreciated how different things could have been. Things happen at the time meant for them to happen.

She ran her hand along the comforter on the bed, trying to connect herself to Quinn, convinced that, through time, she would come to know him.

She noticed, as she worked her way through the second floor, that there weren
’t any framed photographs. For a man who lived to be eighty-three, she found that to be an anomaly. He should have rooms full of portraits. Did he not have a family? She made a note to ask Sean about it later on.

What he did display on the walls were random Victorian-style canvases in gilded frames—women in large dresses holding sun umbrellas, little children in fields of flowers, large houses.

She noted the taste was geared toward a woman
’s, rather than a man’s, preference. She would wager that Quinn had been married once. She wondered what had happened to his wife and was certain there was a sad story in there.

Quinn wasn’t married when Sean had known him eleven years ago, he’d told her, and he wasn’t at the time of his death. Based on nothing more than her gut instinct and conjecture, Sara surmised that he’d had the love of his life early on and there was no sense committing to anyone else.

She pivoted, glancing around the last bedroom. Nothing stood out. The doors were older and had key slots, but none of them were locked, so that told her they didn’t hold the secret to what they were seeking.

She was just starting to wonder how long she had been caught up when a clock chimed four times. It had been a while since she’d heard one like it. She went downstairs to see if Sean had better luck.

Next Step, By The Clock

ONLY A FEW FEET AWAY, and jarred from his thoughts, Sean jumped when the chimes sounded.

“Darling, what a beautiful clock.” Sara rushed past him to the mantle and lifted it up.

It was an antique, dating back decades, of that he was certain. It would have even been a classic for Quinn—and that said a lot.

It was made of pine, by the looks of it, with intricate wood scrollwork framing the front face. The hands were brass, and the golden numerals, Roman.

“I’m assuming this is the one that just rang.” She inspected the clock, running her fingertips along its edges.

“Yeah, and it nearly scared me to dea—”
He moved in closer.

“Darling, what is it?”

“Could it be? Let me see that.”

She handed it over, her brow knitting.

“There’s a door in the back. Makes sense this would be where the inner workings are, but look at this.” Sean flipped the clock over and there was a keyhole.

“Oh, try the key.”

Sean took it from his pocket and slipped it in. It fit perfectly. He paused to look up at his wife. Her excitement mirrored his.

He went to the coffee table and placed the clock down.
Sara dropped to the floor and he settled in beside her.

With a small twist, a panel opened.

Sara let out a gasp and Sean laughed.

“What? This is exciting.”

He had to give her that.

He took the panel and put it beside the clock. He expected it to reveal the inner workings, which it did, but it also provided something else—a folded piece of paper. He opened it up and read it out loud.

“Dear Sean, Up until this point we have been through a lot together, haven’t we? I knew you would find this. I sincerely hope that you were able to enjoy spending some of the money I left you. I also hope that you were able to find true love and someone to share it with. I need you to do me a favor.”

“This is amazing, darling. He knew you would find this. He left it for you. I wonder at what point in his life? Back when you first met, or more recently.”

“There’s still more to the letter.” Irritation laced his speech, but her speaking had yanked him out of his spiritual reunion with Quinn.

“When I met you, you were a street cop, but I followed your career and know that you turned out to be a murder detective. This is where you can help me, friend. My daughter, Cindy, was murdered. Now, the papers will tell you that she committed suicide, but not my girl. Please, do whatever you must, but find justice for her.”

When he finished reading it, Sean passed the letter to Sara.

“Did you even know he had a daughter?” she asked, her words hushed, teasing the edge of being audible. She must have picked up on his emotion.

“No, I’m embarrassed to say, it turns out I didn’t really know the man that well at all.”

Sorting Out The Details

SEAN RUMINATED OVER THE GIST of the message. Quinn wanted them to investigate the death of his daughter. There was a lot of information they would have to gather for themselves
, as his letter was rather vague.

“You looked through his office?”

Sara nodded, absentmindedly, and handed the letter back to Sean.

“Did he have a computer?” He asked the question, but surmised he already knew the answer. Quinn had been an older man and probably had no need for them. He employed people to use technology for him.

“No, but he did have an old typewriter.” Sara smiled, but it only remained there briefly. “We’re going to have to find out more about his daughter. I’m surprised he didn’t put more information in the letter.”

“That’s the thing. My gut’s telling me there’s something we’re missing. Why go to all the trouble of locking this letter in a clock only to give us vague details to go on?”

“He was confident in your abilities to solve this.”

“Or he didn’t want the wrong person to stumble across it. We’ve got to get back to the house and get online.”

“We could call in a favor with Jimmy.”
Her face cracked into a smile and he returned one.

“Do you think he’d help us out again?”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think he wants to get involved with us on a regular basis.”

“We could always bribe him.”

“Didn’t you promise him a fine bottle of cognac? We still haven’t made good on that.”

“Sounds like the perfect time.”

“I don’t know if I want to waltz down to PD. I’m not ready to see everyone yet,” Sean sulked.

“Come on, darling, you’re being silly. They’d be happy to see you.”

“Yeah, but if the chief catches wind that Jimmy’s helping us out, his job could be at risk.”

“True. We’ll have to deliver it to his home this evening. He can dig up her information in the morning. We have an appointment tomorrow anyway, don’t we? We could ask Mr. Cranston about Cindy.”

“Beautiful and smart.” Sean kissed her.

Sara clicked on the keyboard and moved the mouse around the screen. “This will only take a few minutes, but at least we’ll know a little bit about Cindy and the circumstances surrounding her death. Then we’ll go to Jimmy and ask him to look into this further.”

Sean pulled up a kitchen chair beside the task one Sara was in.
“Whoever thought your fascination with obituaries would pay off?”

She turned to face him and smiled.
“Seriously? You’re saying that? If it wasn’t for my fascination, as you put it, you might never have found out about Mr. Quinn.”

“Oh, nonsense, dear, his lawyer would have hunted me down.”

“Uh-huh, you’d hope so anyway.” Her smile faded as she returned her attention to the screen. “There are pages of results.”

“I guess it makes sense if she was the daughter of a billionaire.”

“I suppose, but Mr. Quinn was really private about his affairs. You had no idea, and even after being inside his home, I never would have guessed it either. Looking at these results, however, Cindy didn’t keep as low a profile. Look.”

She pointed to the titles of newspaper articles.

Tycoon
’s Daughter Found Dead

Was It Really That Awful At The Top?

The Rumors Surrounding Tycoon
’s Daughter, Exposed

Billionaire’s
Daughter Killed Herself

“We owe it to him to figure out what happened to his daughter. If he didn’t believe she killed herself, that’s enough for me,” Sean said.

“Darling, are you sure? I mean, this would have been investigated already.”

“Considering all that Quinn has done for me, for us, we owe him this much.”

Sara nodded.
“You’re right. I agree. Time to get to the liquor store and then pay our friend a visit, don’t you think?”

“It sounds like a perfect idea.”