A Justified Murder Read online

  “I’m beginning to see why Sylvia killed herself,” Kate said. “She must have been miserable. Do you know if she was ill?”

  “Her doctor said no.”

  “How does all this connect to Janet Beeson’s murder?” Jack asked.

  “No idea,” Sheriff Flynn said. “But we hit a dead end with Janet. No passport. As far as we can tell, she gave a false birth certificate to get a Florida driver’s license.”

  “She was hiding,” Kate said.

  “Sounds like they both were,” Sara said. “Sylvia ran off with Tom—that man as her family called him—and Janet was hiding from...” She looked up.

  “From someone who finally caught up with her,” Jack said.

  “Is it possible that the same person who killed Janet also killed Sylvia?” Sara asked.

  “Very possible,” Daryl said. “The autopsy showed that Sylvia died of oleander poison. It was ground up and put over a plate of spicy food.”

  “But there was no investigation?” Jack asked.

  “She left a signed suicide note and we all thought...” Sheriff Flynn gave a sidelong look at Sara.

  “You don’t have to say it,” Sara said. “Older woman living alone. Widowed. Of course she did herself in. She didn’t have a man so why bother to breathe? That’s what people think. Read a cruise guide. Their one page on women cruising alone is all about how she can get a man. They think a woman is too afraid to walk into dinner unless a man is holding on to her arm.”

  Sheriff Flynn looked at Jack and Kate. “How long’s she been like this?”

  “Since seeing Mrs. Beeson’s body,” Kate said. “But she does have a point. Two older women, best friends, both reclusive, died in unusual ways. The first death was passed over for investigation and the second one is being blamed on somebody in California.”

  “Or maybe not.” Jack looked at the sheriff, but he wouldn’t meet his eyes. “What is it that you want from us?”

  “Nothing,” Sheriff Flynn said quickly. “I’ve been told that no civilians are to stick their noses into this and risk getting themselves killed.”

  “Like last time,” Kate said. “By the way, is anyone admitting that we found out the truth about the Morris murders?”

  “Nope. No one says that.” Sheriff Flynn seemed to be waiting for something.

  “What now?” Sara asked. “We jump up and down, clap our hands, and tell you how we are dying to help find a vicious murderer? And ‘dying’ is the key word here.”

  The sheriff stood up. “I better get home. Evie said she’d let the dogs out and cause chaos so I could sneak in the side door. This has been a nice visit. Sorry nobody knows anything.” He looked at Jack. “You planning to sing at Janet’s memorial service?”

  “No.” Jack stood up.

  Daryl looked at Kate. “The house has been searched and they found nothing that gave any hint to Janet’s origins. She was an extraordinarily clean and tidy person. Not so much as a grocery receipt could be found. We didn’t find a personal computer although she used one at church.”

  “But she was on Facebook and saw Britney taking pills,” Sara said.

  Sheriff Flynn thought about that, then turned to Kate. “I persuaded Cotilla to let you have the house listing of Janet’s house so you could sell it and get the commission. That okay with you?”

  “Sure,” Kate said.

  “What about her will?” Jack asked.

  “Didn’t find one. Bea called several lawyers in the vicinity but they’d never heard of Janet Beeson. Did I mention that she paid for that house in cash? Almost a million. But her bank account had just four hundred and thirty-two dollars in it. Kind of odd, isn’t it? Wonder where her money came from? Mr. Beeson? Or whatever his name is.”

  “No, you didn’t mention any of that,” Sara said.

  “Almost a million?” Kate said. “But that house sold for one and a quarter mil. I saw the records.”

  Sheriff Flynn was blinking at her. “Eight ninety-nine went through Janet’s bank account. We don’t know where the money came from, but that exact amount was deposited, then a check went out to the title company.”

  “What about all the extras?” Kate asked. “Insurance and closing fees. Who paid the balance of what the house sold for?” She trailed off as everyone was looking at her. “I probably have the number wrong. Maybe it was less. If that’s all she paid, she got a real bargain.”

  Sara turned to the sheriff. “Anything else?”

  “Not that I can think of.”

  “Except what you can’t tell us,” Jack said.

  The sheriff winced as though that thought hurt. “I’m afraid you’ll hear about it all soon enough. I hope you attend the memorial service.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.” Sara was standing close to Kate.

  Jack walked Daryl to the front door and locked it behind him.

  “You think—” Jack began when he got back to the women.

  “I don’t want to think,” Sara said. “I want to go to bed and sleep.”

  “I agree,” Kate said. “What about you?”

  Jack put his hands in his pockets. “Maybe.” He picked up a piece of paper off the coffee table and looked at it.

  “Let me guess,” Sara said. “Daryl accidentally left the name and number of Sylvia Alden’s cold, snooty brother.”

  “He did.”

  “And you might do a bit of an internet search,” Sara said.

  “Maybe.” Jack kissed her forehead and watched her walk away. He turned to Kate. “You leaving too?”

  “Yes.” The door to her apartment was off the family room. She turned back. “What did Sheriff Flynn mean when he said that my father was ‘difficult’?”

  “It was difficult to make him do what my father wanted him to do. Steal things, threaten people, get drunk, and start fights. Go to bed. Get some sleep.”

  Kate yawned. “I will. Good night.”

  Jack was looking at his computer screen as he mumbled good-night.

  Six

  “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS.” If the term hadn’t already been coined, Kate would have made it up. For the last two days, everyone in their office had been tiptoeing around their boss, Tayla.

  Kirkwood Realty was in a pretty house just off the Great Blue Circle, an area where cheaply built offices and ugly apartment buildings used to stand. But nineteen years ago, a widowed Tayla Kirkwood had returned to her deteriorating hometown and set about restoring it.

  In the months Kate had been working there, she’d had lunches and after-work drinks with her boss. She’d enjoyed hearing Tayla tell about all she’d done to get the backing she’d needed to make the little town beautiful again. “I did everything and anything I had to, to get the money I needed. Except sex. Not that I was asked, but I would have said no. I think.”

  Working for and with Tayla had been a joy. She was open to ideas and enthusiastic about whatever Kate thought of doing. Summer wasn’t the good tourist season in Florida, so Kate had come up with ideas for the locals. She’d been behind two block parties and a toddlers’ parade. The parade had drawn people from miles away and on that day, sales in the local stores went up 83 percent.

  For Kate, the big reward had been that now when she walked down the streets, people said hello to her. Whether it was for what she’d done for Lachlan or because she’d helped solve a multiple murder was something she didn’t want to think about.

  Whatever the reason, Kate loved her life now so much that she sometimes got chills. Of course, there was still the problem of her widowed mother, Ava. She was living outside Chicago and without her daughter there, she was spending more time with her three older brothers and their families. In ordinary circumstances, that would have been good, but they were religious fanatics, always preaching doom and misery—and they wanted Kate and her mother to move in with them. And of course, they