Colder Than Ice (15 page)

Beth looked to her left, to the lawyer. “If you don't mind my asking, Mr….” She lowered her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I'm sorry.”

“Hammond, hon. But you just call me Bert.”

“Bert. Fine. If you don't mind my asking—”

“You want to know what all this is about, I'm sure. Well now, it's a relatively simple matter. Maude wanted you to have her house.”

“She…what?”

He pulled a thick white envelope from an inner pocket, handed it to her. “Here's the deed, with your name on it. It's all legal, done and over with. There's a letter from Maude in there, too, along with other documents. Insurance, property tax statements and what not.”

“She left me her house?” She was stunned, breathless, shocked right to her core. “But…but…she only just died yesterday. Surely there's probate or…something.”

He smiled. “She was cagey, old Maude Bickham was. Came to me asking me to put you into her will two months ago, but when I told her about the inheritance taxes, she threw a fit. Actually put the place in your name then and there for the sum of ten dollars, just to save you some money.”

She blinked, recalling Maude's uncharacteristic request to borrow ten bucks from her one day last summer, and how she'd seemed to forget about ever paying it back. Now she understood. “That sneaky little…” She lifted her head to meet
Josh's eyes. “This isn't right. She should have left it to you and Bryan.” She watched him to gauge his reaction.

“We haven't been in her life in years, Beth. Besides, we're not blood.”

“I've only been in her life for a year, and I'm not blood, either.”

“She loved you,” he said.

“Don't think she didn't have her reasons,” Bert added. “But you'll know all that when you read her letter. Anything else she left behind will be transferred to you as her will stipulates. There are some bonds, a small savings account, nothing major.”

“The timing certainly couldn't be better,” Frankie said. “With your own place being blown to bits.”

“It wasn't really mine,” Beth said. “It belonged to Gil Cranby. I was only renting.”

Bert nodded. “Gil's insured, don't you worry,” he said. “I just thank the Lord you were out at the time.” He got to his feet, nodding goodbye, and left the room.

“What about the cottage?” Beth asked, looking at Frankie. “Have they determined what caused the explosion?”

“Haven't got the final report in yet, so it's not official. But the state fire investigator says it has all the signs of a gas leak. Looks to him like gas leaked into the basement for several hours. Eventually there was enough in there that when the furnace kicked on, it ignited the gas. There you have it.”

“Do you think that's all it was?” she asked.

“I do. I expect his report verifying that by week's end. The explosion will be ruled accidental. You have renter's insurance, to cover your belongings?”

She nodded. She didn't believe for one minute that the ex
plosion had been an accident, though. She told Josh so with her eyes, and he acknowledged her with his.

“Then…are we finished here?” Joshua asked.

“Uh, no. Actually, there's something else. It's…a little odd. Stu from the funeral home thinks he may have had a break-in last night.”

Beth looked at Josh. He held her eyes until she looked away again. “What makes him think that?”

“Nothing obvious. A few things out of place. A big wet patch, as if his outdoor spigot had been turned on. Just…well, he felt whoever was there had been with Maude.”

“With her how?”

“She wasn't exactly where he'd left her in the cold room—uh, that's what he calls the morgue. He said he was certain she'd been moved. I thought I'd check with you two, see if either of you felt moved to pay her a visit last night.”

They both shook their heads slowly.

“Well, it's probably nothing. It's something about the fall, you know. Stu gets jumpy this time of year, and kids get crazy. If it was anything at all, it was probably some local teens on a dare or some such nonsense. That's Stu's theory, anyway.”

“He's probably right,” Beth said. “But I don't like the idea of anyone tampering with Maude's body that way. Did they…deface her or anything like that?”

“No, no. Believe me, if I thought anyone had disrespected Maudie, I'd have their hide nailed to my wall by now.”

Beth nodded slowly. “Maybe Stu should change the locks, just in case.”

“I've already suggested it, Beth. I just thought you two ought to know.”

She nodded, getting to her feet slowly.

“Are you all right, Beth?” Frankie asked, her brows bending in concern. “You're not looking so good.”

“It's been…a hell of a night, Frankie.”

“I'll give you a ride home,” she said.

Beth turned, looking out the window. The sun was shining brightly from a clear blue sky. “It's only two miles. I think I'll walk. Okay, Josh?”

“Yeah, as long as I can give Bryan a call first, just to check in.”

She nodded.

“Go get yourself a refill on that coffee, hon. Joshua can make the call from my desk here,” Frankie said. She opened her door and ushered Beth through it, then closed it behind her.

 

Josh lowered his head, knowing what was coming even before the woman in the uniform looked at him with iron in her eyes and said, “I think if you want to spend another night anywhere besides a cell, you'd better tell me who you are and what you're really doing here, son.”

He met her eyes. “I didn't have anything to do with Maude's death. Or the explosion.”

“Not good enough. Maude said you were here for good reason, and I couldn't pry more than that out of her with a crowbar. But now I'm done waiting. So you best start talking, Mr. Kendall.”

He tightened his lips. “I work for the government.” He walked to her desk, leaned over it and scrawled a number with a pen. “The man at this number can verify that for you. Beth had a…scary past, and I'm here to make sure no one from that past catches up to her. If she finds that out, she'll show me the road in a hurry, and that will leave her without protection.”

“Protection from who?”

“I can't tell you that.”

She stared at him. He stared back. “And none of this has anything to do with what happened to Maude?”

“Not that I know of. If I find out otherwise I'll tell you.”

“I'm not sure I believe that.”

“I'm sorry, Frankie. You call that number. My employer will verify all I've said.”

She looked down at the piece of paper. “He'd better. Now phone your boy.”

Josh took his cell phone from his pocket and quickly punched in the number.

 

Bryan ran down the stairs to answer the phone and made a mental note to remind his dad to pick up an extension for his bedroom. There was a jack in there—the PC was plugged into it. But no phone. He snatched up the old-fashioned, heavy phone receiver from its rotary base atop a doily-covered pedestal table at the bottom of the stairs, because it was closer than the cordless in the kitchen, and said hello.

“Hey, Bry. It's me.”

“What's up, Dad?”

“Just checking in. Everything all right?”

“Yeah.” Bryan frowned when he heard voices in the background. “Where the heck are you calling from? I thought you went for a run.”

“Ran into Chief Frankie. She needed us to come to her office. We're walking back. I hope. Anyway, we'll be there in a half hour, tops. Okay?”

“Sure.”

“Nothing unusual going on?”

“Not a thing,” Bryan said, glancing up the stairs to where
Dawn was peering out his bedroom door at him. He was glad she'd finally gotten out of the shower. They'd agreed that this morning's run would be the best opportunity for her to freshen up, but he hadn't anticipated it taking her so damn long.

He said goodbye and put the phone down, eyes on the girl, and walked back up the stairs.

She was worth the wait, he decided. She smelled good. Her hair was still damp. She'd dried it a little, not all the way. She'd put on fresh jeans and a baby-tee from the little backpack she'd brought with her.

“That was my dad,” he told her. “They'll be back here in a half hour.”

“That's just time enough to grab some breakfast.”

He nodded. “Yeah, if we hurry. Damn, you should have seen the meals Maude made us. Enough to feed an army.”

“Beth said she was always trying to stuff people with food. I wish I'd had the chance to meet her. I didn't know her at all, but I feel like I did, just by the way Beth was always talking about her.”

“I didn't know her very well, either, but I kind of miss her.”

She nodded. “That's the second time you've said you barely knew your own grandmother,” she said, following him down the stairs.

“Great-grandmother.” He glanced over his shoulder at her, trying not to show nervousness. “Not all families are close, you know.”

“Sure. I know.”

He led the way into the kitchen, started opening cupboards in search of food. “Maude wasn't big on cold cereal. I've got some toaster pastries and frozen waffles and—” he opened the breadbox “—fresh bagels. You want one?”

“Sure.” She got up and opened the fridge. “Cream cheese, too. She wasn't worried about cholesterol, was she?”

“Guess not.” He sliced two bagels and popped them into the toaster oven.

“So where are you from, Bry?”

“California. Little town in Marin County, not all that far from San Francisco.”

“Hey, cool. My favorite band is from Marin.”

He glanced at her. “Which one?”

“Stroke 9.”

He nodded in approval. “I like them. Met Luke Esterkyn once at a street fair.”

“You didn't!”

“Did.”

“What was he like?”

“Just like anyone else. Friendly, down-to-earth. I said hi, you know, not expecting much, and we wound up standing there talking for like ten minutes.”

“I'd have died.”

“No, you wouldn't.”

“So why did you leave California?”

The toaster oven was done. He grabbed two small plates from the cupboard and set two bagel halves on each one. Then he snatched two butter knives from the drawer and carried everything to the table.

She took her plate and knife and began applying margarine and cream cheese.

“My mom and stepfather were killed in a plane crash.”

“Oh, my God.” She paused with her knife in the middle of reaching for more cream cheese. “God, Bryan, I didn't know. I'm sorry.”

He shrugged.

“When was this? Not too long ago, I'll bet.”

“June. How could you tell?”

She drew a breath, sighed, spread the cheese slowly over her bagel. “You have sad eyes.”

“I do?” He frowned, tipping his butter knife in front of his eyes for a glimpse of his own reflection.

She batted at him. “Stop joking. It's okay to be sad.”

“It has to be. I don't seem to have much choice about it.”

“So then you went to live with your father, I guess.”

He nodded. “In Manhattan at first, but then we came out here.”

“That's lousy.” She covered his hand with one of her own, and it surprised him so much he almost jerked it away. It felt good, though. “I know what it's like, you know.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I lost my parents, too. Even though I was too young to really remember.”

“But I thought you said…”

“I'm adopted.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It's okay. I'm cool with it.”

“So what happened to your birth parents?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “I don't talk about that.”

“Sorry. You just said you were cool with it or I wouldn't have asked.”

“I
am
cool with it. Just some of it is…private.”

“I get that.”

“Trust me, you totally don't.” She shrugged. “Doesn't matter.” She bit into her bagel.

Bryan watched her chew and wondered if she would go out with him if he asked her. Then he said, “So how do you know Beth?”

She washed her food down with a gulp of coffee. “She was my English teacher last year. Part of the year, anyway. Until she moved away.”