Sarah Woods Mystery Series (1-6) Boxed Set (84 page)

“
He's dead, isn't he?” The voice sounded fearful, yet resigned.

“
I'm afraid so. Glenn's wife Elizabeth hired me to find you. She thought you had a right to know. Please accept my condolences.”

“
Ms. Woods?” Her tone seemed more urgent. “Can you tell me what happened to Glenn? Please.”

“
He was shot during a burglary at his art gallery.”

A long pause. “Is the killer behind bars?”

“
He's in custody. Mrs. Fleming, I know this must be so hard for you. I truly am sorry for your loss.”

I could hear her breathing on the other end. Finally she cleared her throat and said, “This is all about Glenn's sister, Esther. She was killed when she was ten years old. It was a tragedy that Glenn could never recover from. All the therapy and drugs couldn't get him right. We tried everything we could to convince him that accidents happen, and he needed to forgive himself.”

“
Wait,” I said. “I don't understand. I thought his sister died in a car accident? And I'm sorry to be so blunt, but the information I received indicated that your husband was the one driving the car.”

She sighed. “I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Glenn could never come to grips with it all. It was easier for him to blame his father and me for Esther's death, especially when we had to admit him to a psychiatric hospital for a month because he tried to commit suicide. All we wanted to do was help. You see, my son battled with alcohol since the age of twelve. He was drunk the day he drove his sister to her friend's house. He was only fifteen, and had just gotten his driver's license the month before. I had no idea he'd been drinking, or else I never would have agreed to let him take the car. He was a juvenile, so it never appeared on his permanent record, nor did his name appear in the newspaper. But just the same, he was never able to get over it. The guilt continued to eat him alive. I
always wondered if he would get married and be able to live a normal life. I'm glad to hear that he was able to find that.”

I could barely breathe as the blood rushed to my head. I felt dizzy and weak, and said the first thing that came to me. “Thank you for sharing your story with me, Mrs. Fleming. I can't even imagine what that was like.”

“
When Glenn's father died a few years ago, I tried to contact Glenn. I sent a few letters, but never got a response until about a month ago. He sent me a beautiful card, but all he wrote inside were a few simple words. 'I love you, Mom. I'm sorry.' I cried for days, just grateful for those simple words. I'd longed for them for thirty years.”

“
When did you receive the note in the mail?” I asked.

“
It was around the end of March.”

“
He must have sent it to you just days before he died.”

A long pause. “You mean my son died a month ago? What day, exactly?”

“
Friday, March twenty-ninth,” I said.

I heard her gasp. “The same day Esther died. That … that can't be just a coincidence.”

“
Do you … do you think your son could have staged his own suicide?” I asked.

“
He was a troubled soul,” she said. “But why? After so many years of dealing with his pain, why would he suddenly give up? Something else must have triggered it. Was he drinking again?”

“
I don't think so. He had been gambling, but it appears as though it was no longer a problem. However, his wife Elizabeth told me she had threatened to divorce Glenn just a few weeks before he died. She explained to me her frustration over his lack of emotional and physical involvement. I wonder if that pushed him over the edge.”

“
I hope you'll tell her for me that it's not her fault. Glenn has been like that ever since Esther's death. He was pleasant and friendly on the outside, but I think he was dead on the inside.”

“
Mrs. Fleming, does the word
mockingbird
mean anything to you?”

“
Why do you ask?”

“
It was Glenn's password to his computer. I could never figure out what it meant to him.”

“
It was Esther's favorite song. Very popular back in the seventies. Apparently, she was singing it in the car just before Glenn crashed into the fire hydrant. In the months following her death, I'd hear Glenn humming the song to himself at night when he couldn't sleep.”

I took a deep breath, blinking away my tears. “Glenn's wife expressed an interest in meeting you, or at least talking on the phone. If you’re interested, I'll give you her number.”

“
Yes. I would like that very much.”

* * *

I walked into the police station with a heavy heart. Elizabeth was talking to Detective James in his office. As they looked over a file on his desk, they both looked up at me.

“
How was dinner?” she asked. “I got here a few minutes ago. Detective James was just about to explain what's going on.”

“
I just got a call from Mrs. Fleming,” I said.

“
Glenn's mother?” Elizabeth asked, her eyebrows arched. “How did she take the news? Oh, it must have been awful.”

“
Yes, it was.” I took a few steps toward the pair and addressed the detective. “Has William O'Connor changed his story since I left?”

Detective James looked at Elizabeth, then back to me. “Um, no, he hasn't changed his story. He's sticking to it like glue as a matter of fact. I was just about to tell Mrs. Fleming that I got a call about ten minutes ago. My guys searched O'Connor's home and found some guns. One of them might be the murder weapon. Forensics is working on it as we speak. We also found a few burner phones at the home. I've got a guy working on those to recover any deleted voice or text messages.”

Elizabeth regarded us with confusion. “Wait a minute. What is his story?”

I turned to Detective James. “I think William O'Connor is telling the truth about Glenn.”

He jerked his head back in surprise. “What?”

I nodded solemnly and proceeded to explain the conversation I'd had with Glenn's mother. When I was finished Elizabeth's face turned pale. She collapsed into a chair and hung her head. “This doesn't make sense,” she said, looking up. “Yes, I told Glenn I wanted a divorce. But that morning he died, I told you, he had changed. He came to me and cried for the first time. He said he was sorry for everything. I thought it was a new beginning for us.”

“
That was probably his way of saying good-bye,” I said. “He sent his mother a card, basically doing the same thing. The significance of the day he chose to die – his sister's death – only confirms he had probably planned this himself.”

Elizabeth leaned forward, cupping her eyes. “I can't believe he would do this to me. I just don't. Glenn wasn't that selfish. I know he must have been suffering, but … how was I supposed to know about his sister? He never told me. How was I supposed to know he'd want to end his life if I left him? I thought he didn't love me anymore.”

I went to sit next to her and squeezed her arm. “This is not your fault, Elizabeth.”

“
Please. Just give me a minute.”

She started to cry, so Detective James gathered up his file and gestured to me. When we exited his office he looked at me with a determined, yet baffled expression. “I'm going to need Glenn's mother's phone number. I'll want to corroborate the story you just told me.”

“
Yes, of course.”

“
If Glenn has a history of suicide attempts, O'Connor just might be able to beat murder in the first. But murder is murder, for profit or not. I'm still determined this guy will spend the rest of his life in jail. But I'll need all the help I can get. He finally contacted a lawyer, by the way. This game is going to change very soon. I'm sure the attorney will try to discredit his confession somehow, so we'll need hard evidence to prove he shot Glenn in the first place.”

“
Is there anything else I can do?” I asked.

He gently squeezed my shoulder. “Maybe you can keep an eye on your client for a few hours. Make sure she's okay. I'm worried about her.”

“
Why? Do you think she might try to hurt herself?”

He shrugged. “You never know how guilt will affect people.”

* * *

The cafeteria at the police station was empty at 8:25 as I sat with Elizabeth, drinking coffee. She barely looked at me as she sipped, hands cupped around the mug. Her eyes were swollen, with mascara running down her face. I handed her a napkin, wishing I could say something to bring her consolation, but I knew there were no words. She didn't want to go home. The news of her husband's alleged suicide must have felt like a reopened wound, likely more painful than the initial news of his death over a month ago.

I heard a noise and looked up to find Detective James walking toward our table, a device in his hand. There was softness in his expression that gave me hope.

I sat up straight.

He sat down at our table and addressed Elizabeth, a weary smile on his face. “Mrs. Fleming, my tech expert in the forensics lab was able to recover a deleted voice message from one of O'Connor's burner phones. I think you should hear it.”

Elizabeth looked up. “What is it?”

“
We believe it's your husband’s voice, but we need you to confirm it for us, okay?”

Her eyes grew wide. She swallowed hard and nodded.

“
Okay,” he said. “The quality of this recording is not the best. You'll have to listen closely. Here we go.”

Detective James pressed a button on his device and the recoding started.

“
Hey boss, this is Glenn. Look, I'm going to have to call off our meeting today. I've … changed my mind. I know this is last minute, but I want to make sure you understand. The transaction today is a no go. I repeat. No go.”

When Detective James stopped the recording, Elizabeth looked up at him. “That was my husband. He was trying to call off their arrangement, wasn't he? He didn't want to kill himself?”

The detective nodded. “We believe so. But whether or not O'Connor actually got this message or deleted it by accident is still unclear. And we can't confirm when the call was made. At least we can assume that your husband had a change of heart at the last minute, which could also explain the defense wounds the ME found on his arms. When O'Connor showed up to the gallery, Glenn might have tried to fight him off, but it's likely O'Connor decided to go through with it as planned. Maybe for the money. Maybe for spite. Or maybe to tie up loose ends, for fear Glenn would eventually tell someone about the scheme. I don't expect I'll get any cooperation from him now that an attorney is involved, but I'll work with the district attorney to make sure Mr. O'Connor faces a murder charge.”

Fresh tears streaked Elizabeth's face as she tried to smile. “Thank you, detective. I appreciate everything you've done.”

“
Sarah is the one who figured this out,” he said. “Thank her.”

He stood up, acknowledged us both with a curt nod, and began walking out of the cafeteria.

Elizabeth turned to me and smiled. “He's right. You did this all on your own. Thank you for everything you've done, Sarah. Really.”

I clasped Elizabeth's hand. “You should head home and get some rest.”

She smiled and nodded. “It may be my first night's sleep in a month.”

Chapter 19

Wednesday, May 1

I pushed myself out of bed at 9:00 and ambled to the kitchen to boil some water for the French press. All I wanted was a few hours to myself: no calls, no distractions, and no worries. Just me, my gigantic cup of coffee, and my Kindle. At least that was the plan.

Around 9:30 a.m., the knocking on my door was unrelenting. I had every intention of ignoring it until I heard Carter's voice.

“
Sarah, I know you're in there. Are you decent?”

I scrambled off the couch and wrapped my robe around me. When I opened the door, Carter stood there, a distressed look on his face. “What the heck,” he said, “I've been calling you all morning. Did you shut your cell off or something?”

“
That's right,” I said, standing to the side to allow him to enter. “I thought I deserved a morning to goof off. Besides, you haven't called in days. Figured you were still off doing whatever you were doing. You have exquisite timing, by the way. We found Glenn's killer.”

Carter didn't wait for an invitation as he claimed a chair at my kitchen table. “I know. I spoke with Elizabeth this morning.”

“
That's nice,” I said, cool and collected. “So I guess she told you everything?”

“
I'm in awe, actually. I want to hear every detail.”

“
Tell you what. Let's play a game. I'll ask you a question. If you give me an honest answer, you can ask me a question. Sound fair?”

Carter blinked at me as if lost for words. “Um, okay.”

“
Great. First question: where the hell have you been for the past three days? I've been worried.”

“
You could have called me if you were so worried.”

“
I was under the impression that you didn't want me to.”

He smiled, leaned back, and stretched his arm behind his head. “Truth is, I didn't go anywhere. I was at home the whole time. Did some yard work, fed my neighbor's fish, and finally finished
War and Peace.”

I glared at him. “Ha ha. Funny joke. Now seriously, what happened to you?”

“
Remember I told you I had a special gift for you ... for getting your private investigator's license?”

“
Yeah?”

He made a sweeping motion with his hand. “Well, this was my gift.”

“
I don't get it. Abandoning me in the middle of an important case was my gift? I'd hate to see what you'd give an enemy.”

“
You're missing the point,” he said. “All I wanted was for you to spread your wings a little. Prove to yourself that you were capable. Because you are. Very capable.”

I stood silent, brooding.

Carter seemed a little nervous. “Sarah, are you really that pissed at me?”

“
Honestly, I don't know whether to hug you or kick your ass.”

“
First of all, I'd prefer the hug. Second of all, I'd like to see you
try
to kick my ass. Anyway, maybe this will help.” Carter reached into his pocket and handed me a check. “I'm giving you the full payment for the job. You solved it. You deserve it.”

I took the check and looked at the amount. Five thousand, six hundred dollars, payable to me. “Are you serious? This is too much.”

Carter smiled. “It's all yours. How does it feel?”

“
It makes up for a lot, I guess.”

“
Then let's go get breakfast. Your treat.”

“
My pleasure,” I said. “Oh, and by the way, I'm going to Florida for a week.”

He smiled. “Good. You could use a tan.”

Two days later

On the way to Boston's Logan Airport, I stopped by the Fleming Gallery to see Elizabeth, as per her request.

She was looking spiffy in a tan business suit, her red curls tied back in a neat French twist. Her eyes were clear and blue, and her complexion seemed to glow. “Thanks for coming, Sarah. I wanted to share something with you.” She waved a hand. “Look around.”

The walls were covered with Glenn's original paintings, all portraits of his sister, Esther. It seemed as if the young girl’s eyes were staring at me from every angle. “Wow. You did a wonderful job hanging them. Are you going to sell them?”

“
Yes,” she said. “I've decided to have an art auction. All the proceeds of the sale will go to the charity I'm setting up in honor of Glenn. The charity will raise money to help raise awareness of depression and other conditions that lead to suicide.”

“
Glenn would be proud,” I said. “Please send me an invitation. I'd love to attend.”

“
You'll be first on the list.”

“
Have you talked to Glenn's mom?”

“
Yes. She promised me she would fly in for the auction. I invited her to stay with me for as long as she wants. We have a lot to talk about.”

“
So, have you decided to keep the gallery?”

“
I think so. Glenn had so many wonderful paintings that no one has ever seen. I want to show the world his talent.”

Elizabeth looked around the gallery, a look of pride on her face. She seemed like a completely different woman and it made me smile. It was also precisely why I hesitated to ask my next question.

“Elizabeth, have you heard from Detective James?”

She sighed. “Yes. We spoke yesterday. They're building a case against O'Connor, but they still haven't found the gun he used to shoot Glenn. Chloe Goodwin has given a
statement, and even though she doesn't seem to know much about O'Connor, her testimony will work against him by proving his involvement in illegal activities. I expect it will be a long, drawn-out ordeal. But that's okay. I'm moving on. I have to. Speaking of moving on, are you heading somewhere?”

“
Palm Beach for a week. My boyfriend Max has a temporary assignment there.”

She smiled and took my hand. “I hope you have a wonderful time. I want to thank you again for all of your hard work pertaining to my case. A huge burden has been lifted off my shoulders. You're a star.”

“
I'm so glad I could help.”

She gave me a hug, then walked me to the door. “Could I ask for one last favor, Sarah?”

“
Anything.”

“
Embrace the time you have with Max now. Don't let time slip away. Tell him how you feel every chance you get.”

I nodded and gave one more hug. “Thank you for the advice. It's exactly what I needed to hear.”

THE END

The next Sarah Woods book

An Appetite for Revenge (Book 7)

is available on Amazon.com

An Appetite for Revenge (Sarah Woods Book 7)

Or to purchase Volume 3 Box Set

Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 3)