Trudy's Diary Page 4
“Anyway, they talked for so long that Walt asked me if I could come over to his house to get the money sometime this week.”
“Is that normal?” Daisy asked.
“Sometimes. If the host is too busy to pay me, I arrange a time to get the money later.”
“Okay.”
“I went over there around five this afternoon to get the money.”
“Okay. I don’t understand what’s going on here. Why do you need my help?” Then Daisy had an awful thought. “Don’t tell me he refused to pay you.”
“I got the money. But Walt was murdered after I left. I was the last person to see him alive. The police have been here to talk to me, Daisy.”
Chapter 11
Daisy had remained standing while she talked to Grover, but now she moved to the living room and collapsed into an armchair.
“I can’t believe it,” she murmured.
“What should I do?” Grover asked.
“Just tell the police the truth. And get yourself a lawyer, just in case.”
“Do you really think I’ll need one?”
“Hopefully not, but if you do need one, it can’t hurt to be prepared.”
“I’m completely at sea right now,” Grover said. His voice had risen considerably just since Daisy picked up the phone.
“Listen, Grover. This is just procedure. Just because the police talked to you doesn’t mean you’re a suspect. If you were the last person to see him alive, then they’re just doing their job. You have to remember that. I’m sure you’re not a suspect.”
“But what if I am and they’re just not telling me?”
“You’d know if they thought you were a suspect, believe me. Everything changes in the way they speak to you. I know from bitter experience.”
“I know. I know exactly how you must have felt.”
“Well, I was actually a suspect and hopefully you won’t be. Hopefully you won’t know exactly how it felt.”
Grover was silent for a moment.
“Grover? You still there?” Daisy asked.
“I’m here. Could I come over for a little while? I’ll bring wine.”
“You just said the magic words,” Daisy said, attempting to lighten the mood. “See you when you get here.”
Grover showed up just a little while later with a bottle of white wine. Daisy got two glasses from the kitchen and sank onto the sofa.
“So tell me everything. What happened when you went to talk to Walt? Was there anyone else there?”
Grover shook his head. “His wife was pulling out of the driveway just as I was getting there.”
“So the wife wasn’t home. Do you know where the kids were?”
“Walt invited me into the house. He said the kids weren’t home and that his wife had just gone to pick them up.”
“Okay, so neither the wife nor the kids were home, though it sounds like they were heading home once she picked them up. Go on.”
“I followed him into the house and he asked me to wait in the kitchen while he went to get his checkbook. He was only gone for a minute or two. Then he wrote out the check and handed it to me and I left.”
“He stayed in the house when you left?”
“Yes. He went to the door with me, but he stayed inside the house and closed the front door behind me.”
“What was his mood like?” Daisy asked.
Grover shrugged. “He’s not a really gregarious guy. I mean, he wasn’t a gregarious guy.”
“So he was quiet?”
“I would say so.”
“Did he talk about anything besides the retirement party or the bill?”
Grover thought for a moment, his eyes squinting. “I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. He was standing in front of the house when his wife pulled out of the driveway, though. He was shaking his head and he looked furious. But he seemed back to normal by the time I got to the front door.”
“That’s interesting,” Daisy mused, half to herself.
“Why do you say that?”
“I meant to tell you this the night of the party, but I never got a chance and so much has happened since then. When I went to pick up the cranberry juice at the grocery store I saw him with a woman I assumed was his wife, but wasn’t. And then I almost hit someone with the van. The person I almost hit turned out to be his wife. I met her at the party. She saw him with the other woman.”
“Wow,” Grover breathed. “I had no idea.”
“There’s more,” Daisy said. “So much has happened in the days since I saw you last.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, the woman I saw with Walt was Fiona, my boss’s wife. And now she’s dead, too. She was murdered just a few nights ago.”
“Oh, my God. You’re kidding,” Grover said.
“I wish,” Daisy replied.
“So your boss’s wife was having an affair with a married man. And Walt’s wife found out about it. Did your boss know?”
“He found out over the weekend, apparently. From Walt. He came into the office Monday and was in a horrible mood.”
“Has anyone been charged with the wife’s murder?” Grover asked.
Daisy shook her head. “I guess the investigation is still ongoing. But Mark John hasn’t been arrested, so that’s a good thing.”
“He must have been devastated.”
“I’m sure,” Daisy agreed.
“So this changes things,” Grover said.
“It sure does,” Daisy agreed.
“It certainly puts Melody Beecham squarely at the top of the suspect list in Walt’s murder,” Grover said.
“That’s true. That’s good news for you,” Daisy said, pointing at him with her fork. “His wife knows he was having an affair and suddenly he turns up dead. She’s a much better choice for suspect than you are.”
“You’re right. Her misery is my good luck. I hate to think of it that way, though.”
“In a murder investigation, you have to look out for yourself first.” Daisy gave him a tired smile. “I wish I didn’t know so much about being a murder suspect, but it’s coming in handy,” she said with a wry laugh.
Grover smiled and shook his head.
When they finished their wine Grover stood up to leave. “Thanks for letting me come over tonight,” he said. “It would have been nicer under different circumstances, though.”
Chapter 12
Daisy knew that Grover felt a little better when he left her apartment, but she spent that night tossing, turning, and mulling over his misfortune in her overtired mind.
The next day she was already grumpy when she got to work. She wanted nothing more than to be left alone in peace, but Jude had other ideas. She came to sit across from Daisy in Daisy’s office not long after the work day started.
“What is it, Jude?” Daisy asked, running her hand across her eyes. “I feel that I should warn you--I haven’t slept much and I’m a grouch today.”
“I can’t sleep, either,” said Jude.
“Worried about Mark John?” Daisy asked.
Jude let out a long sigh. “Yeah. I have a little more information.”
“Jude, I have more information, too.” Daisy fixed Jude with a pointed stare.
“You go first,” Jude said.
“Walt, Fiona’s paramour, was murdered last night.”
“Oh, my God.”
“So you obviously hadn’t heard that.” Does Mark John know yet? Daisy wondered.
Jude covered her mouth with her hand as the full implication of Daisy’s news struck her.
“They’re going to think Mark John did it!” Jude cried. Daisy didn’t answer. Jude was probably right. First the cheating wife is murdered, then her boyfriend? It looked as bad for Mark John as it did for Melody.
“Jude, what did you want to tell me?” Daisy asked. She spoke softly, albeit with an effort, knowing Jude was probably becoming more emotionally unglued by the minu
te.
“What?” Jude asked crossly. “Oh. Yeah. I came in to tell you that Fiona’s funeral is on Saturday. You should probably plan to be there.”
Daisy nodded. I didn’t even know the woman, she thought. “Are you going?” she asked.
Jude looked down at her fingers, which were intertwined in her lap. “I would rather not. She wasn’t exactly my favorite person.”
“Why? Because she was Mark John’s wife?”
“Yes.” Jude looked away, her eyes downcast.
“I suppose I can represent both of us,” Daisy said.
“Thanks.”
Funerals made Daisy nervous. The last one she had attended was Dean’s, and it had been horrible. Overwhelming, sad beyond any words, and emotionally draining. And that was before she knew she was a suspect in his death. She knew Fiona’s funeral was unlikely to have that same effect, but still. It was a funeral.
Daisy woke up Saturday morning with a headache. A tension headache, no doubt. She was anxious about the funeral. At Dean’s funeral, there had been lots of rude whisperings about his cause of death--this funeral was sure to be different since the victim had obviously been murdered. The whisperings would be about who did it. Daisy didn’t care to listen to whispering or gossiping or conversation of any kind.
She had made plans to have lunch with Grover after the funeral, so at least she looked forward to that, but even the thought of Grover made her anxious. The more time that went by without an arrest in Walt’s murder, the longer Grover could potentially be considered by the police as a suspect in the crime.
She rolled out of bed, took a shower, and tried to do something to hide the gray bags under her eyes. Her efforts were in vain. Eventually she pulled on a gray dress to match the bags and hailed a taxi to take her to the funeral home.
She was surprised by the number of people milling about. She wasn’t surprised that she only knew two of them--Mark John and Brian.
Mark John was greeting mourners who had come to pay their last respects. He hugged the women and shook hands gravely with the men. Every so often he would take a tissue out of his pocket and blow his nose, but he managed to remain calm.
Not so with Brian, who was crying at the back of the vestibule in the funeral home. A woman Daisy assumed was his wife stood next to him, her hand on his forearm.
Daisy didn’t want to approach either man, but Mark John saw her and walked over to her.
“Thank you for coming, Daisy. I appreciate it. I’m sure Brian does, too.”
“It was the least I could do, Mark John. I’m so sorry for your loss. And I’m sorry I never had a chance to meet Fiona.”
Mark John nodded, his eyes vacant, and let out a long breath.
“Funerals are awful, aren’t they?” he asked, looking around. “They’re filled with people one doesn’t know very well and it’s hard to be authentic.”
“I know what you mean,” Daisy said. “Brian doesn’t seem to be doing very well.”
Mark John turned around quickly to glance at his brother-in-law. “He’s an emotional guy. But he’ll be okay. That’s his wife with him. She’ll make sure he’s all right. Listen, Daisy, I have to talk to the funeral director before the service starts.”
“Sure. See you later.”
Mark John left and Daisy stood at the back of the room where the service was to be held. It was a large room and seats were starting to fill up. She was about to find a seat when there was a tap on her shoulder.
“Hi, Daisy. Thanks for coming.” It was Brian, and he had stopped crying, at least temporarily.
“Oh, Brian, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Daisy said, reaching to shake his hand. His grip was weak and clammy; Daisy had to fight the urge to wipe her hand down the front of her dress.
“Thank you. So tragic. This is my wife, Stacey,” he said, indicating the woman standing with him.
Daisy shook Stacey’s hand and stood back to let them pass through the doorway and down into the first row of seats reserved for family. Daisy noted that only Brian and Stacey were seated in the front row. Mark John would no doubt be joining them, bringing the total number of family members to three. That in itself was very sad. At least at Dean’s funeral Daisy had been surrounded by his brothers and sisters and parents. Today she sat alone in the back row of seats.
The service was short and lovely. The sounds of sniffling were all around Daisy, though she could not bring herself to shed any tears for the woman she hadn’t known. Mark John, Brian, and Stacey were the first ones to leave the large room for the receiving line in the vestibule, and Daisy waited her turn, letting all the other mourners file out before her.
She was the last person to shake hands with Mark John and Brian. While she waited in line, she had noticed they were not looking at each other. In fact, they were standing stiffly side-by-side, taking obvious care not to glance in the other’s direction.
Something wasn’t right.
Chapter 13
Daisy waited her turn to express her condolences once again, then the funeral director stepped up to speak to both men as soon as she stepped away from them. Stacey was outside talking to other guests. Daisy needed to use the ladies’ room before she met Grover at the restaurant, so she slipped down a hallway and into the restroom.
When she came out she was startled to hear slightly raised voices coming from the vestibule. She walked slowly toward them, not knowing how else to exit the building, but not wanting to get caught in the middle of an argument.
Before she reached the corner to turn into the vestibule, she recognized the voices. Mark John and Brian.
She stopped, not wanting to interrupt them and not wanting to embarrass them by showing up in the middle of their discussion. She couldn’t help but overhear what was being said.
“I told you, of course I knew about it!” Brian hissed.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Mark John asked.
“Because she was my sister, for God’s sake! I couldn’t betray her like that.”
“Don’t you think I had a right to know what my own wife was doing behind my back?”
“I don’t know. You didn’t have a right to find out from me, though.”
“Some friend you are.”
“Mark John, it wasn’t like I sat by and watched it happen without trying to do anything about it,” Brian said, his voice a bit lower.
“Ha! Sure,” Mark John sneered. “Name one thing you did to do stop it.”
“For one thing, I called Fiona at least once a week and begged her to stop seeing Walt,” Brian said. “You think I’m glad to be the one who introduced them? How was I to know they’d end up falling for each other?”
Silence from Mark John.
“How did you find out, anyway?” Brian asked.
Daisy could hear the sneer in Mark John’s voice when he answered. “Your good friend Walt called me. Apparently she finally took your advice and tried to break it off with him last Thursday before some party Walt was having. He called me the next day to tell me what had been going on. Did it out of spite the weekend before she died. He probably killed her.”
“Did you know Fiona called Walt’s wife to tell her about the affair?” Brian asked. He had apparently decided to gloss over Mark John’s accusation that Walt had murdered Fiona. The two men were speaking more calmly now, their voices low.
“No. I didn’t know that,” Mark John answered.
“It’s true. After Walt told you, Fiona was so upset she called Melody and told her what had been going on. But Melody already knew--she had seen them together somewhere.”
At the wine bar on the day of the retirement party, Daisy thought. She felt a twinge of embarrassment for continuing to stand there eavesdropping, but she couldn’t help it. And it would be strange to step into the vestibule now.
“I’m sorry, Brian. I didn’t mean to lash out at you. Of course you were in a tight spot, knowing Fiona was cheating and not wanting to betray her confidence. I just wish things had turned out di
fferently, that’s all.”
“So do I,” Brian replied. There was a brief silence, then Daisy could hear the funeral director’s voice again.
“Gentlemen, if you could come with me, we’re leaving for the cemetery now.” A moment later the door closed and the funeral home was silent. Daisy waited another moment before stepping into the vestibule, her mind racing with the things she had heard. Brian had known about the affair! He had begged Fiona to stop. He had introduced the two lovers. His conscience must be sinking under all the pressure, Daisy thought.
This was all good news for Grover, though. The more people who knew about the relationship between Fiona and Walt, the less likely it was that the police would decide the caterer was the culprit.
The very thought of it was preposterous.
Daisy left the funeral home through the front door and watched the cars pulling away from the curb for the drive to the cemetery. One car was left behind on the quiet street. It didn’t move to follow the other cars. A woman sat behind the steering wheel, also watching the funeral procession. She didn’t seem to notice Daisy.
It was Melody Beecham.
Chapter 14
Grover was already at the restaurant when Daisy arrived. He stood up when she walked in, as though she might have missed him if he remained seated. He was six and a half feet tall with a shock of blond hair and a lopsided smile that could turn even the grumpiest person’s day around.
“How was it?” he asked as they both sat down.
She shrugged. “It was a funeral. They’re always awful. But I did learn something interesting.” She leaned forward and was about to tell him about the conversation she had heard between Mark John and Brian when their server appeared.
Daisy ordered a glass of white wine and Grover ordered red. When the server had brought their wine and taken their food orders, Daisy leaned forward again.
“It seems Brian, Fiona’s brother, knew she was having an affair. Walt works with him and Brian introduced the two of them.”
“I don’t get it. Why is this news?” Grover asked.