A Willing Murder Read online

  “That bad?”

  “Worse. Noise and confusion and strangers.”

  “But aren’t your housemates strangers? You haven’t known them but a few days.”

  “I guess, but it doesn’t feel that way. Jack says that Aunt Sara and I are so much alike that we’re almost twins.”

  “Bit of an age difference, isn’t there?”

  “She’s young and I’m old, so it evens out.”

  He smiled at her joke. “And you and Wyatt?”

  Kate thought of what Jack had told her at the nursing home. It meant a lot that he’d entrusted her with that secret, and she wasn’t going to reveal anything to anyone.

  “Uh-oh,” Alastair said in a way that made her laugh. They got into their cars and she followed him to a part of town she’d not seen before. When she saw the street, she drew in her breath. It was the same address as the house Jack had given her to sell. She pulled into the driveway beside his Bimmer, turned off the engine, then got out and waited for him to explain.

  “You called Tayla and she called me. I saw the house this morning and I love it.”

  When Kate said, “Oh,” the disappointment in her voice was clear.

  “I screwed up, didn’t I?”

  “No, of course not. Good houses go fast and Jack said this one is a beauty.”

  “The ever-present Jack,” Alastair mumbled, looking contrite. “Like to see inside?”

  “Sure.” It was very pretty on the outside and Kate’s Realtor eyes checked the gutters, the windows, the concrete. It was all in good repair, well taken care of. Add a few flowers to the beds and it would be pristine.

  She wasn’t surprised when Alastair had a key to the front door. The inside was as well kept as the outside—and the floor plan was what everyone wanted: open, light, simple. The kitchen had cream-colored granite countertops and she recognized the documents on them. Alastair had already made an offer and it had been accepted.

  Kate’s name was on the papers. She was going to get the commission. She’d share a percentage with Tayla’s company but the bulk of it would go to Kate. “You and Tayla didn’t need to do this. I didn’t show you the house.”

  “You’re the one who finagled it out of Wyatt.”

  “He volunteered it,” she said. It was her first sale at Kirkwood Realty and she didn’t feel that she’d earned it. Where was the chase? The agony of showing twenty houses and the buyers hating them all? Then at last she would open a door and they would fall in love. Never mind that the house bore no resemblance to what they’d said they wanted—love was love.

  “Sorry I messed things up for you,” Alastair said. “It’s just that as soon as I saw this house, I knew that I wanted it. And Tayla said it would go soon. Come see the Florida room.”

  She followed him past the pretty kitchen to a big screened-in porch. There were two cheap aluminum chairs and a table with a white cloth. On top was a bottle of champagne, two glasses and plastic containers of food.

  “Please forgive my decor,” he said. “May I serve you lunch in my new home?”

  He looked so repentant, so sorry, that she forgave him. Besides, it was difficult to stay angry at a blond Viking. “I would love it.” She sat down, then he poured the champagne and filled her plate with little sandwiches and salads.

  “Tell me everything you’ve been doing,” he said. “The whole town is buzzing with talk of the memorial service. Is Miss Sara really giving out free books?”

  “Oh, yes. Boxes of them. Jack opened them and—” She broke off as Alastair groaned.

  “Wyatt again.”

  “He does live there,” Kate said tersely.

  “I don’t mean to be disparaging, but you’d think a grown man would want his own place. Whatever happened to that newscaster he was dating?”

  “Cheryl Morris?”

  “Jack dated Cheryl?” Alastair looked shocked. “I had no idea. You don’t think he...?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Kate quickly realized her mistake. “I don’t know who Jack has dated or is dating.”

  “Foot in mouth,” he said, “but then I’ve thought of little else besides the murders since our dinner together. I’ve tried hard to remember if anyone ever mentioned that poor girl. Or her mother.” He took a bite.

  “And?”

  “You remember the guy who yelled hello on that first day that I met you?”

  “Dan, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. Dan Bruebaker. What a good memory you have.”

  “Part of my trade. Did he know Cheryl?”

  “I don’t know but I remembered that he used to talk about her a lot. But then, most of the guys did. She was a very pretty girl and she dressed like an adult. I remember some women at church making remarks about her being a ‘painted harlot.’”

  “Do you know who Cheryl went out with?”

  “No one in the open, that’s for sure. Maybe...” He looked down at his plate.

  “Maybe what?”

  “Did you ever think that she dressed up like that because she was trying to attract a man? I mean as opposed to a high-school boy. I think Cheryl—what with a mother like hers—might have been too much for us fumbling boys. I know I would never have approached someone like her.” He paused. “I’ve made you frown. Sorry.”

  “It’s just the concept of blaming the victim that I hate. Whatever she did, she didn’t deserve what she got.”

  “Of course not. I apologize.”

  “From what we’ve found out, Cheryl was working toward getting the job she wanted. Maybe that was what she was trying to attract.”

  “And the boys’ locker room was a by-product. Do you know when it happened? The date she was killed?”

  “Not specifically. Early September, just before school started.”

  “When my class was heading off to college.”

  Kate looked at her watch. “Do you really think Dan Bruebaker was after her?”

  “He and I weren’t close, but I do know that he talked about her often. It was like she was some trophy he was trying to win. He used to tell all of us on the team in detail about what he’d like to do to her, that sort of thing. Locker-room talk. I dismissed it at the time.” He paused. “So how was your adventure yesterday?”

  At first she didn’t know what he meant. “Oh, Aventura? The rest home. Mrs. Ellerbee wasn’t... I mean... She’d passed away.”

  “Oh, no! I’m so sorry.”

  Kate put down her napkin and stood up. “I really need to get back.”

  He got up. “Give me a date if you hear about one and I’ll do what I can to help you find alibis for the people in high school. I’m good at research and my mother kept every piece of paper about my high-school years. Her scrapbooks are practically a daily diary. It could help narrow down the list. Anything I can do to help, let me know.”

  “That’s very kind of you. By the way, why did your mother go to Henry Lowell’s funeral?”

  “I didn’t know that she did, but it makes sense. Mr. Lowell used to keep our house from falling down around our ears. I think he and Mother became friends, and between you and me, I don’t think he charged her very much.”

  “I think he did that with a lot of people.” She glanced at the table. “Thank you for all of this. It was a nice treat.”

  “Would you like my help tomorrow?”

  “It would be nice if you showed up at the service at the cemetery in the morning. Maybe it’s vain of us but we’d like to show Sheriff Flynn that Cheryl and her mother were remembered.”

  “Now, that’s something I can do. What about afterward?”

  Kate started to say that he might be good at interviewing people, but she stopped herself. She’d already told him a lot, and officially bringing in a fourth person was something that needed to be discussed with the others. The thought made her smile. She was