Fatal Trust (21 page)

“A bracelet we found in Ben’s room the first time he got
arrested. We assumed it must belong to you. I just noticed we still had it.”

“I didn’t lose a bracelet,” Lexie said, managing to keep her
tone level although her pulse had accelerated with annoyance and excitement.
She couldn’t believe they’d ignored something that could be relevant in a
murder investigation by assuming it was hers—and if she was lucky, that
something would help clear Ben.

She opened the envelope, hoping it was Olivia’s, but was a
little deflated to recognize it as Cecilia’s tennis bracelet, the one with the
faulty clasp. The one she claimed was her only good memory of husband number
two.

Sadness gathered in Lexie’s chest and pricked at her
eyelids. When they’d discussed that bracelet, Max had still been alive, even
though they hadn’t realized it.

“It isn’t mine, but I know whose it is,” Lexie said. “I’ll
make sure she gets it.”
She closed the envelope and stashed it in her
purse, then spotted another envelope. The one containing something Trey had
assured her she’d find interesting. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten all
about it, although between Muriel’s crystal reading, Trey’s collapse, and Ben’s
arrest, it had been a heck of a night.

When she got to the car, Lexie flipped on the dome light and
ripped open the envelope. It contained a photocopy of a note: “Grandfather,
this is the college friend I told you about. He’s a great guy, and I know he
would be a terrific butler.” It was signed “Seth.” Attached with a paper clip
was a photocopy of a résumé submitted by Jason Stephenson, presumably Igor the
Eighth’s real name. She skimmed through his credentials—a B.A. from the
University of Southern California, several stints as a waiter at restaurants
with names she didn’t recognize, and three years working as a butler in L.A.
She flipped to the end to check his references. Seth’s was the only name
listed.

So Seth had recommended the current Igor for the job and
been his only reference.

As she’d realized before, Igor could easily have poisoned
Max and shot out the window, and he could also have poisoned Trey. She now knew
he could have been hired by Seth to do it. Or maybe he’d convinced his old
friend Seth to recommend him for the butler job because he had some reason of
his own to want Max dead.

It was curious that Igor’s résumé didn’t list as references
any restaurant owners or people he’d been a butler for, even though that
experience would have been relevant. Maybe Max hadn’t wanted to bother checking
more references because he trusted Seth’s judgment for butlers, if not for
directing.

But it also could be that Igor had something to hide.

She needed to check into this Jason Stephenson. She’d start
with the University of Southern California. They undoubtedly wouldn’t release
information on former students, but she knew someone who could hack into almost
anything. He lived in Boston, where it was after midnight, but fortunately he
was a night owl. She’d call him now.

Because whoever had killed Max was clearly willing to kill
again, which meant everyone could be in danger until Max’s killer was behind
bars.

Especially her.

Trey had one of the nicest rooms in Lakeview Memorial
Hospital, according to the woman at the information desk. Which, she added, was
only fitting since Trey’s late wife had been responsible for raising most of
the money for the hospital’s new wing.

Lexie took the elevator to the fourth floor, and then walked
down the disinfectant-scented hallway until she reached a large single room
with a view of Lake Superior. Trey was watching CNN on a flat-screen TV that he
muted when Lexie walked in. His face was still pale and pinched, but he at
least was sitting up in bed, although propped up by pillows. Several colorful
floral arrangements decorated the windowsill and nightstand.

“How do you feel?” Lexie asked, taking a seat on one of the
gray tweed chairs beside the bed.

“Incredibly lucky,” Trey said. “If the doctor hadn’t
suspected poison because of what happened to Max, I might not have made it.”

“Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

“I assume it has something to do with the trust,” Trey said.
“If I don’t know it off the top of my head, it will have to wait. They want to
keep me two more days to make sure the poison didn’t affect my heart.”

“I’m not here about the trust,” Lexie said. “First, Ben
asked me to tell you that he didn’t poison you.”

“Do you believe him?” Trey asked.

“Of course. Don’t you?”

Trey was silent for a moment, and then let out a long
breath, seeming to crumple against the pillows and age at least a decade.
“Hell, I don’t know what to think. Ben did say it was okay for me to go to the
cops. But I told him I’d do it the next morning, if at all, and that night
someone tried to kill me.”

If even Trey suspected him, Ben was in big trouble. “Maybe
someone overheard you at the garage and seized on another opportunity to make
him look guilty.”

“That’s possible,” Trey said. “I mentioned it later to
Cecilia outside the parlor at Nevermore.” He looked sheepish. “Deep down I
didn’t want to tell the cops. When I ran into Cecilia, I decided to ask her
advice, knowing full well she’d tell me not to because Ben was innocent.” He
straightened again. “Is Ben going to lose his share of the trust even if he had
nothing to do with this or Max’s death?”

“I’m going to try to find a way around that.”

“I hope you can, since it’s my fault he ended up in jail
last night,” Trey said. “When the cops asked if anyone had reason to kill me, I
was so woozy that I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t even consider that
they’d use what I said to arrest Ben, and it would be too late to go to court
to have bail set.” He shook his head, sadness coloring his expression and tone.
“I was worried telling the police would cause problems for Ben, and it has.
Especially if he’s innocent.”

“You had to tell the police everything,” Lexie said. “Did
you make your drink yourself?”

He nodded. “Someone must have doctored it after I made it.
Since Dylan drank a couple gin and tonics, too, and was fine.”

“I saw you set it down when you went to get Igor’s résumé
for me,” Lexie said. “When did you pick it up again?”

Trey shifted against his pillows. “Not until after Muriel
finished her performance,” he said.

“Did you drink from it right away after you retrieved it?”

“No,” he said. “The dinner gong sounded, so I went to the
dining room. I decided I’d better take a pit stop before dinner—one of the joys
of getting old—so I left my drink at my place on the table and headed for the
powder room. The cops think Ben slipped turpentine into it before I got back,
since he was sitting beside me.” He frowned. “I was so upset about everything
that I didn’t even notice the taste was off. Thank God I only had time for a
couple of sips before I switched to wine for Max’s toast.”

“I remember everyone was milling around the dining room for
several minutes before taking their seats at the table, so everyone had the
opportunity to doctor it, not just Ben,” Lexie said. Including Igor, who’d been
pouring wine and setting out the first course. “Can you think of any reason
someone else might have wanted to kill you? Besides the discussions everyone
had with Max about money. Something you might have heard or seen but considered
insignificant?”

Trey’s forehead creased for a moment, then he shook his head.

“If you think of anything, no matter how minor, let me
know,” Lexie said. “I hate to worry you, but if you know something, you’re
still in danger.” She got to her feet, and then something occurred to her. “One
more question. Do you know how Max felt about Olivia?”

”He hated her, which isn’t too surprising after the way she
treated Ben.”

“Did Max hold the affair against Jeremy, too?”

“He didn’t approve of Jeremy’s conduct, but Jeremy was
blood,” Trey said. “Olivia wasn’t. To be honest, I’m not sure Max liked her
much even while she and Ben were married. I guarantee he wouldn’t be pleased
that she and Ben are thinking of reconciling now. If he were alive, Max would
be doing everything he could to stop it from happening.”

Lexie’s cell phone was ringing when she walked out of Trey’s
room.

“I heard something I think you’ll find interesting,” Melissa
said. “From Linc.”

Linc Jackson was Melissa’s on-and-off boyfriend.

“He heard from one of his colleagues that there’s going to
be an auction of a soon-to-be-completed biography of Max Windsor,” Melissa went
on. Linc worked as a lawyer for a New York City talent agency with a publishing
division. “The manuscript’s expected to make it into the high six and maybe
even seven figures. Linc called me because he knew my firm represented Max and
thought I’d be interested.”

Catherine’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding, right? Max would
never authorize a biography while he was alive. And it would be hard to get
information about him considering how private he was.”

“Which is why this is such a big deal, because it’s written
by someone who had access to him,” Melissa said.

“Who’s that?”

“Max’s grandson, Seth Windsor.”

Seth.
Suddenly all those questions and
photos took on a greater significance. “I assume it was first submitted after
Max supposedly died the first time.”

“A few days later,” Melissa said. “Which makes sense, since
with Max dead, it’s bound to generate the maximum interest and money. Seth
might be scrambling to finish writing it.”

“He also wouldn’t have dared publish it while Max was alive,
since he’d have risked being disinherited,” Catherine said, thinking out loud.

“You’re thinking Seth might have killed Max so he could
publish his book?” Melissa asked. “It seems more likely he’d have killed Max
for his share of the trust. From what you’ve told me, that’s way more than
he’ll get from any book, even if it’s a bestseller.”

“If he needs money right now, Seth will probably get the
advance from his book a lot sooner than he’ll get the trust money, especially
if it’s tied up until Max’s murderer is convicted,” Catherine said. “Writing
the biography will also get Seth’s name out there and remind people that he’s
related to the über-talented Max Windsor. That’s bound to help advance his
directing career.”

Those reasons could have motivated Seth to make the initial
unsuccessful attempts on Max’s life. But Catherine now knew that Seth had an
even stronger motive for having shot his grandfather down by the lake. If Max
were alive, Seth lost a lot of book sales and his share of the trust until Max
died for real. But even worse, he might have lost his chance of
ever
getting a share of the trust. Because Max would no doubt hear that Seth had
tried to sell a biography about him, even if Seth tried to withdraw it. Max might
be willing to forgive a couple of tabloid articles, but a biography was a
different matter. Knowing Max’s hatred of publicity, that biography could very
well be the end of Seth’s inheritance.

Seth also was working with Igor, whom Catherine’s hacker friend
had assured her was
not
a college buddy of Seth’s.

She probably should talk to Seth, but not until she had more
information.

Right now she needed to talk to Igor.

Lexie had just parked at Nevermore and gotten out of her car
when Jeremy came down the front steps.

“I was just thinking that I can’t stand eating at Nevermore
tonight, and then I run into you,” he said. “It’s a sign you should go out to
dinner with me this evening.”

Wrong.
It was a sign that it was time
to confront Jeremy. Igor could wait. Seth wasn’t the only suspect, after all.

“Why have you been lying about your relationship with
Olivia?” Lexie asked.

Jeremy’s face went blank. “I haven’t been. We don’t have a
relationship anymore.”

“You had lunch with her in New York around Easter,” Lexie
said. “You also called her about Ben’s arrest. She was already in Grand Marais,
which you know because you visited her there.”

“Who told you that?” he asked.

“Someone I consider absolutely reliable.” That was pushing
it, but Lexie wasn’t about to call J.P. a liar, even behind his back. “I plan
to tell the police unless you convince me your lies had nothing to do with
Max’s murder. Knowing the local police, if I do tell them, they’re likely to
decide that you, Olivia, and Ben are in this together and arrest all of you.
You’ll probably end up spending a night in jail and have to bring a lawsuit to
get your share of the trust, a lawsuit that might not succeed. That’s
after
you’re
tried and found innocent, assuming you actually are innocent and the local
judges and juries are more competent than the cops. Are you willing to risk
that?”

Jeremy stared at her for a moment, then let out a long
breath. “All right. A few months ago Olivia asked me to lunch. She told me she
needed my help and couldn’t talk over the phone. I was curious, so I went.”

“What did she want?”

“She said she’d been a fool to leave Ben and wanted me to
help her get him back. I told her I’d do what I could. To be honest, I’d always
felt a little guilty about my part in breaking up their marriage.”

“Did you help her?”

He shrugged. “There wasn’t much I could do. Ben would be
more likely to reject Olivia if he thought I was trying to get them together.
That’s why I lied and told you I hadn’t talked to her, so Ben wouldn’t find out
I was involved. I didn’t hear from Olivia again until after we thought
Grandfather died the first time. She said she’d called Ben and wanted to come
to Nevermore, but he’d told her not to bother. She asked me to keep her
apprised of what was going on.”

“Did you tell her to come here anyway?”

“Not until you showed up,” Jeremy said. “You seemed so
different from Ben’s usual girlfriends that I had a feeling he might be serious
about you. I warned Olivia she’d better try to convince Ben to get back
together before it was too late. She decided she’d have better luck if she
talked to him in person, so she came to Grand Marais two days before
Grandfather really died. I took her to lunch the day after she arrived, but
otherwise only talked to her on the phone.”

“When did she see Ben?” Lexie asked. He hadn’t mentioned
meeting with Olivia.

“She was waiting for the perfect time,” Jeremy said. “Too
many people were around him at work, and she was afraid that if she came to
Nevermore and you were there, Ben wouldn’t want to put you on the spot and
would order her to leave. When the mayor called and Ben had to go into work
alone at night, I called and told her it was her chance.”

“She talked to him that night?”

Jeremy shook his head. “She said when she got to Lakeview, she
realized the garage wasn’t a good place for their discussion since their
biggest fights had been about Ben wanting to do something other than work in
finance. She went back to Grand Marais without seeing him. So now that I’ve
come clean, how about dinner at Cleo’s?” He flashed a smile that probably made
most women agree to anything he asked.

Unfortunately for him, Neil had the same smile. “Sorry, but
I’ve got things to do,” Lexie said. “Thanks for the help, Jeremy.”

The night Ben had worked on the mayor’s car was the same
night Max had been killed. Olivia could have gone to Nevermore to wait for Ben,
figuring she’d confront him outside when he got out of his vehicle. She could
have seen Max while she was waiting and realized Ben wouldn’t inherit after all.
So she’d later killed Max using the gun she knew was in Nevermore’s basement
and that she’d somehow retrieved, or maybe Max had the gun and she’d gotten it
away from him. Olivia wouldn’t have tried to frame Ben, not when she was
counting on his fortune to save her from the SEC. But maybe she’d hidden the
gun under the pickup’s seat, planning to dispose of it later. Maybe she hadn’t
even realized the pickup belonged to Ben.

Or maybe she was working with Jeremy after all.

Olivia had just moved up the suspect list. But much as Lexie
would like her to be guilty, she couldn’t ignore other potential suspects.
Taking a deep breath, Lexie walked up Nevermore’s front stairs.

She was just about to ring the bell when Muriel stepped out.
Today she was wearing a rose cardigan, white blouse, and gray skirt. Her gray
hair was in a tight bun, and her lipstick matched her cardigan.

“That’s an interesting pin,” Lexie said, referring to a
silver pin with a unique design that decorated the neck of Muriel’s shirt.

“It’s actually a Wicca symbol, but hopefully no one at First
Baptist will figure that out,” Muriel said. “I lost the top button and didn’t
have time to change blouses.”

“Do you know if the rest of the family is around?”

“Dylan is still in bed, Jeremy went boating, and Seth’s
gone, although I don’t know where. But Cecilia’s in the living room.” She
narrowed her eyes behind silver bifocals. “After what I saw last night, I hope
you’re being careful.”