Murder Past Due (28 page)

“Charlie Harris,” I said. “Archivist here at the college. Like Mrs. Wardlaw, I went to school with Godfrey eons ago.”

Andrea nodded, her eyes on Julia. “You’re the mother of his son, aren’t you?”

Startled, Julia nodded. “I asked Godfrey to keep it to himself for a while, but obviously he didn’t.”

“Oh, Godfrey told me everything,” Andrea said. “He was my biggest client, you know.”

Had Godfrey really told her everything, I wondered? Did Andrea know about the ghostwriter?

“I’m not surprised,” I said. “Godfrey made millions.”

“He sure did.” Andrea’s smile was smug. “No complaints there.” She cocked her head to one side, thinking about something. “But you know, the old windbag did have a point about something.”

“What was that?” I said, though I knew what she meant.

“The bit about Godfrey’s treatment of women in the books,” Andrea replied. “That always bothered me, because Godfrey liked women. No doubt about that. I never could figure out why the tone of the books was so antifemale.”

“Did you ever ask him about it?” Julia seemed intrigued by the question, too.

“I did, early on,” Andrea said. “I wasn’t his agent for his first few books. I took him on on the strength of
Count the Cost
, his first bestseller.” She frowned. “I went back and read one of his earlier books, and the tone was very different.”

“What was Godfrey’s response when you asked him about it?” I said to get her back to the point.

“He just shrugged and said that was the way the book came out. He claimed most thrillers were like that anyway, so why should his be different?”

“And that made sense to you?” Julia didn’t sound convinced.

“As much as anything else,” Andrea said. “Frankly, he started making so much money for both of us, I didn’t really care.”

I decided to risk a question. “Did you ever think someone else might have written the books? I mean, because the tone was so different.”

Andrea laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Who else could have written them? Godfrey changed his style, that’s all. He wanted to break out and make serious money, and he did.”

She seemed sincere, and I thought Godfrey had kept his ghostwriter a secret from her, too. She was in for a rude shock, though.

Julia regarded me, obviously curious. She knew that I wouldn’t have asked such a question without a reason.

Before either of us could respond to Andrea’s last remark, she spoke again. “He made it after all.” She waved at someone.

Julia and I turned our heads to look. “Who is it?” I asked.

“The tall man in the suit there, talking to the deputy. You know who I mean, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Julia and I said in unison.

About twenty feet away Kanesha Berry was deep in conversation with a distinguished-looking man about sixty years old.

“Who is he?” Julia asked.

“Miles Burton,” Andrea replied. “Godfrey’s attorney.” She grinned at Julia. “And if Godfrey managed to get his will changed like he was planning to, your son is going to be really rich, Mrs. Wardlaw.”

After her announcement, Andrea excused herself, saying she wanted to talk to Miles Burton.

“That was hardly discreet,” I said as she walked away.

“No,” Julia said. “But I already knew that. Godfrey told me he changed his will to include Justin and acknowledge him as his son.” She smiled with what appeared to me to be grim satisfaction. “And he died before he could change it again.”

“Why would he want to change it again?”

For a moment Julia looked uneasy. “Well, Justin did quarrel with him, and you know how nasty Godfrey could be when he didn’t get his way.”

That didn’t make much sense to me. One disagreement on the day Godfrey met his son for the first time didn’t mean he would disinherit Justin. Godfrey was too excited about having a son, I figured, to do something vindictive after one meeting.

I didn’t express my doubts to Julia, though. She was watching Andrea Ferris speak with Kanesha Berry and Miles Burton. Her face betrayed her avid interest. I wondered why she didn’t simply go up to them and introduce herself to the lawyer.

Kanesha saved her the trouble. She beckoned for Julia to join them, and I decided I was included in the invitation. Julia needed support, especially since Ezra wasn’t here with her.

Kanesha frowned at me as she introduced Julia to Miles Burton.

“I regret that we are meeting under such tragic circumstances,” Burton said, his voice a mellow baritone. “Where is your son? Did he attend the service?”

“Yes, he did,” Julia said. “He’s here somewhere.”

“He was in the sanctuary, up in the choir loft the last time I saw him.” I introduced myself. “Would you like to speak to him?”

“Yes, I would,” Burton said with a grave smile. “I have matters to discuss with him and with Mrs. Wardlaw.”

“I’ll go find him,” I said, and Burton nodded his thanks.

As I left them, Julia was asking Burton how long he had been Godfrey’s attorney. I didn’t hear the answer.

Out in the sanctuary, I turned to look up into the choir loft. Justin and Diesel weren’t there. I scanned the sanctuary, but there was no sign of them. Perhaps Justin had gone to the restroom.

I went down the hall on the side of the chapel opposite the meeting room and checked inside the men’s room. All was quiet, and I didn’t see any legs, human or feline, in any of the stalls. Had Justin and Diesel gone home?

How had they made it past the media outside? I had visions of Justin being pinned to the front steps of the chapel while reporters bombarded him with questions. But I realized that, unless they knew who Justin was, they probably would have asked him only general questions. Like why did he have a cat with him?

On a hunch, I went further down the hall to the back of the chapel. There was another short hallway running across the rear of the building, which led to a back door. I opened the door and peeked outside. There were no reporters out here.

I stepped outside on the stoop and looked around. No sign of boy and cat here, but I realized that Justin and Diesel could easily have slipped away without attracting attention. They could have taken a roundabout way to the house without having to cross paths with the media.

I made my way back into the meeting room to report to Miles Burton and the others. As I approached them, Andrea Ferris was speaking.

“. . . shame that after the new book is out next fall, there won’t be any more. Thank goodness Godfrey finished it before he came here.” She tittered. “It’s the best thing he’s done yet, and I predict it will outsell his last two.”

“How tragic,” Julia said. She turned to look at me.

I answered the unspoken question. “No sign of Justin, nor of Diesel. I think they slipped out the back and went home.”

“Diesel? Who is that?” Miles Burton frowned.

“My cat,” I said. “Justin is very attached to him, and I brought him along to the service to help comfort the boy. This has all been a severe shock to him.”

“Naturally,” Burton said, though he eyed me doubtfully. “I would like to speak with the young man sometime today, if possible. My plane leaves Memphis very early tomorrow morning. I have a case coming to trial on Tuesday in LA.”

“I can bring him to your hotel,” Julia said.

“Or you can come back to my house now.” I made the offer with a smile. “There will probably be reporters at the hotel, and if we go out the back way to my house, you can avoid all that.”

“Excellent idea,” Burton said. He turned to Julia. “If that is okay with you, Mrs. Wardlaw.” He looked in Kanesha’s direction. “And you too, Deputy.”

“It’s fine,” Julia said.

“Okay with me,” Kanesha said. “I’m in no hurry to make a statement to the media, and I need to hear what Mr. Burton has to say.”

“In that case,” Burton said, pulling a small notebook from the jacket of suit. He opened it and flipped through a few pages. “If Mr. Harris wouldn’t mind, I’d like to request that a few others be present as well. I might as well address all beneficiaries of Godfrey’s will at one time.”

“It’s fine with me,” I said. “You’re welcome to use my living room.”

Kanesha frowned. Would this interfere with her plans for arresting the murderer? To me it looked like she was figuring something out, and after a moment the frown relaxed.

“I think that’s okay,” Kanesha said. “Who else do you need to speak to?”

Burton consulted his list. “Richard Tackett and William Clark. And a representative of the college, if possible.”

Beside me, Julia tensed. What was bothering her? I was surprised at hearing Willie’s name, and no doubt she was, too. But perhaps it was the mention of Godfrey’s half brother that concerned her. After all, she had dated Rick for a while before Godfrey and she had the fling that produced Justin. And she knew perfectly well, unlike me until recently, that the men were half brothers.

“I work for the college,” I said. “And I’m the archivist. Godfrey spoke with me earlier in the week about donating his papers to us. I saw the president leave a few minutes ago.”

“You should be sufficient as a representative for the moment,” Burton said. “Official notice will come later, and that can be addressed to the president and board of trustees.”

I scanned the crowd in the meeting room. I caught sight of Rick and pointed him out to the lawyer. Burton strode off to speak to him.

“Do you see Willie anywhere?” I asked Julia. “I’ll go around the room. He’s short enough that we might not be able to see him in a crowd.”

“I’ll help you look.” Julia started off in one direction and I in the other to make a circuit of the room. Andrea Ferris chattered at Kanesha.

I found Willie behind a clump of people, hectoring a history professor about his students and their lack of library skills. I had heard this song many times before.

When I interrupted Willie, the history professor shot me a grateful look and disappeared quickly.

“What do
you
want?” Willie was gracious as ever.

“Godfrey Priest’s lawyer is here, and he wants to speak with you.”

Willie looked taken aback at first, but then a smile spread on his homely face. “Maybe there will be justice at last.” He started forward.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, although I was certain I knew the answer.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Willie said. “Where is this lawyer?”

“Over here,” I said. Burton had rejoined the three women, and Rick Tackett was with him.

“This is William Clark,” I said when we reached them.

Willie stuck out his hand. “I sure am pleased to meet you.”

“And I you.” Burton shook the hand. “You are all acquainted already with Mr. Tackett, of course. Why don’t we proceed now to Mr. Harris’s house?”

“Just follow me,” I said. I offered my arm to Julia, and she clasped it with a trembling hand. I shot her a sideways glance and was surprised to see her pale. Was she excited or nervous? I couldn’t tell. Perhaps it had something to do with Rick Tackett. I had seen him watching her intently when Willie and I joined the group.

I led the group on a slightly circuitous route to my house, but even with the detour we arrived in less than ten minutes. I unlocked the front door and ushered everyone into the living room.

Miles Burton set his document case on the coffee table as the others found seats. I offered refreshments, but everyone declined.

“I’ll go check on Justin,” I said. “I’m sure he’s upstairs with Diesel.”

He’d better be
, I thought as I climbed the stairs. I couldn’t imagine where else he could be right now.

Sure enough, he and Diesel were in his room. Justin was lying on his back in his bed, still wearing his suit. Diesel was stretched out beside him, purring as the boy rubbed his head.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

“Okay.”

He didn’t look okay. He looked miserable, and no wonder. I wished he could have been spared all this. The months—and perhaps years—ahead were going to be hard for him. To have his biological father snatched away from him so cruelly just after they’d met for the first time—it was truly tragic.

“Godfrey’s lawyer is here, along with your mother and a few other people,” I said. “The lawyer needs to speak to all of us about Godfrey’s will.”

“I don’t care about his will,” Justin said. “Can’t everyone just leave me alone?” He turned his face into the pillow, away from me.

I sat on the edge of the bed. “Son, I’m sorry you have to go through all this. But you need to come downstairs and hear the lawyer out. Godfrey obviously remembered you in his will, and for his sake, you need to listen.”

Justin lay there, unresponsive for a moment. I waited, and then he sat up. He had been crying.

“Go wash your face,” I said gently. “Then we’ll go downstairs.”

Justin nodded and got out of bed. Diesel stretched and came over to me on the bed. I scratched behind his ears. I suspected he was going to be spending a lot of time with Justin in the near future. I hoped Diesel could provide the comfort the boy would need.

Justin came back, and we set off down the stairs, Diesel running ahead of us.

All heads turned when the three of us entered the living room. Miles Burton came forward, hand extended. He introduced himself and shook Justin’s hand. I could see the sympathy he felt for the boy.

Burton led Justin to a seat on the sofa next to Julia and near his own chair. Diesel climbed into Justin’s lap. Andrea Ferris, who occupied the other spot on the sofa, stared at Diesel in fascination. Rick Tackett and Willie Clark had pulled chairs close in a semicircle.

Kanesha stood a few feet away, arms crossed. I found another chair and offered it to her, but she shook her head. I took it instead, sitting a little behind Rick Tackett. I had a clear view of Julia and Justin and the lawyer from this vantage point.