A Grid For Murder Part 12

"Oddly enough, I've got a part-time job. No, that's not right. A temp position is probably closer to the truth."

I told him what Rob had in mind, and he said, "Is he sure he wants to put himself on the line like that?"

"I told you before, he's doing this for his late wife, so who am I to say no? What do you think?"

"Be careful, don't take anything, and don't get caught," Zach said.

"That's what I like: directions I can follow."

He laughed at that. "When's the last time you followed anyone's directions that didn't involve a recipe?"

"Hey, there's always hope."

"Savannah," he said, his voice growing serious for a moment. "Be careful, okay? Never forget the fact that we're dealing with a murderer here."

"How can I?" I asked, and then hung up.

I grabbed my digital camera from the closet. After I brought up the pictures in storage on its memory card, I found that the last photo on it was one of Zach working in the garden, a look of serene happiness on his face. I checked the battery level, and then let out a low moan. I'd forgotten to recharge it since my trip to the Botanical Gardens. It had just a small charge left on it.

I hoped it would be enough.

Tucking it into the pocket of one of my oversized jackets, I went outside to tell Rob that I was ready to go.

"What did your husband have to say about our little excursion?" Rob asked as he got out of his chair.

"We're good to go," I said. "Hardware Store Apprentice Stone reporting for duty, sir."

He laughed, and then said, "Just get in the truck, Savannah."

As we drove to Joanne's house, I said, "Zach had a good point when I told him what we were up to. You don't have to do this, you know. If Laura finds out I was in Joanne's house, she can tell everyone in town that you aren't trustworthy, and it could do some serious damage to your business."

"Most folks have known me their entire lives," he said. "I'm willing to take the chance that they'll believe my word over hers." He paused, and then added, "Besides, what's life without a little spice in it? Do you have any idea what you're looking for at Joanne's place?"

"Not really. I'm kind of hoping I'll know it when I see it."

Rob smiled slightly as he shook his head. "I've always admired that in you, Savannah. You're not afraid to tackle something without any plan ahead of time whatsoever."

"If I waited for a sound strategy every time I acted, I'd never get anything accomplished," I said.

He shrugged. "I'm sure you have a point there, but I've always been a big planner, myself."

"Don't worry, keep hanging around me and there's hope for you yet."

He drove to Joanne's place, and as we pulled into the driveway, I got that same nagging feeling I always got when my life's path crossed with someone who was recently dead. There was something eerie about it, but I did my best to suppress my emotions. This wasn't the time to let my feelings rule me. It was an opportunity that I was certain I wouldn't get again, and I was determined to make the most of it.

JOANNE'S PLACE WAS FAIRLY MODEST FROM THE OUTSIDE. The gra.s.s had been mowed recently, and the leaves were neatly bagged and sitting by the curb for pickup. I doubted Joanne had done it herself. She didn't seem the type to enjoy yard work, or any other type of work for that matter. The ranch-style home was neatly painted and well cared for. With Joanne, I knew that appearances mattered a great deal to her.

My place was quite a bit more lived-in, at least from the exterior. If there was a choice between style and substance, I always chose the latter.

We walked up to the front porch, Rob with his toolbox and me carrying the replacement locks. So far, to any prying eyes in the neighborhood, I was acting out my part in this charade.

Rob unlocked the front door, and we stepped inside.

The furniture was nicer than I'd been expecting, especially after hearing Laura protest that Joanne didn't have any money. There were several pieces of furniture that were more expensive than anything I'd ever owned, and I saw some original artwork hanging on the walls that had to be worth more than our cottage, if the quality of the paintings was any indication.

"What do you know? It's as neat as a pin," Rob said.

"And much nicer than I'd been led to believe."

He looked surprised by that comment. "What are you talking about?"

"When I spoke to Laura, she told me that she doubted there would be enough cash to pay off Joanne's bills, and she said this place was mortgaged to the hilt. Looking around here, I'm guessing that she was mistaken."

"I don't know if she was wrong or she just flat-out lied to you, Savannah. I know for a fact that the car Laura is driving around town came from Joanne."

"How could you possibly know that?" I asked. "Their kinship was supposed to be some big secret."

"To most folks, it probably was, but you have to remember, Joanne and I knew each other for what felt like forever."

I ran a hand over the surface of a walnut end table. "Laura had to know I'd find out the truth eventually. What was the point in playing all of this down?"

"Maybe she was embarra.s.sed about all she's going to get. Then again, she could have been just trying to throw you off her track," he said as he examined the doork.n.o.b. "I can do all of this in half an hour, if everything works out."

"Does that ever happen?"

He grinned at me as he took out an electric drill with a screwdriver bit chucked in it. I hadn't been working with Zach on the cottage without picking up a few things here and there. "Do you really need my help, or was it just an excuse to let me satisfy a little curiosity?"

"Okay, I'm willing to admit that I can handle this by myself," Rob said. "Why don't you go look around and see what you can turn up? Just do me one favor, okay?"

"Anything. All you have to do is ask."

"Put everything back where you found it, and we're good."

"I can do that," I said. I started walking around Joanne's house as Rob went to work removing the old doork.n.o.b. I didn't have a lot of time, so it was important that I got busy right away.

THERE WAS NO INDICATION THAT THE POLICE HAD DONE anything but a superficial search of the house as far as I could tell. Either Captain North was a very thorough investigator, or she didn't believe the clue to Joanne's death could be found in her house.

Either way, I had my work cut out for me. Thirty minutes wasn't a lot of time to dig into someone else's life. I went to Joanne's bedroom and started looking inside drawers. The thought of leaving fingerprints behind worried me a little, since they'd be difficult to explain, but I couldn't imagine it ever coming up. I found Joanne's bank statements in one of her dresser drawers, and I pulled the top one out. In that money market account alone she had nearly fifty thousand dollars. There shouldn't be a big problem paying off all of her bills, despite what Laura had told me. I took a photo of the statement, and then turned to the recording section of her checkbook. I didn't even have time to read the pages; I just snapped a photo of each one with the intention of going over the individual entries later. After I returned her financial records back to the drawer where I'd found them, I started looking around for other things, personal items that might give me some indication of who might want Joanne dead.

As I searched, I found three letters she'd been writing tucked away in a big book of Impressionist artists lying on the nightstand by the bed. None of them were addressed yet, but each note held variations of the same theme.

You should be more careful with your secrets. I found out, and if you don't watch your step, everyone else in Parson's Valley is going to know, too.

How odd. I doubted that she was blackmailing anyone, since there was no mention of money in any of the letters. Apparently Joanne was threatening someone-or possibly three someones-to straighten up. Were these three drafts written to the same person, or was Joanne threatening to expose three different people's misdeeds? I took a quick photograph of all three and then put the letters back where I'd found them.

On her dresser was a framed photograph of Joanne taken in the mountains. From the look of it, it had been snapped somewhere on the Blue Ridge Parkway, a scenic drive that traced the Appalachian Mountains from North Carolina to Virginia. I always thought that it was odd when people kept pictures of themselves around their homes.

When I opened Joanne's closet, I nearly lost my breath when I saw how many shoes the woman had. I personally didn't get the fascination with owning a thousand shoes, but I knew a lot of women did. I had a st.u.r.dy pair of boots for hiking and gardening, three pairs of tennis shoes, three pairs of three-inch heels, and two pairs of flats, one in black and the other brown.

It was clear that Joanne believed that she could never have enough shoes. Row after row after row of shoes were stacked, some in their boxes and some in the open air, halfway to the ceiling. She could barely get her skirts and blouses inside the closet. I opened a few of the boxes at random, but they contained only shoes.

I was about to close the closet door when I noticed that one of the boxes away from the door had been shoved in upside down. It was tough to notice it at first, but once I did, it was a glaring error in shoe filing. I leaned down and pulled the box out, careful to keep the lid on tight so nothing would fall out. I flipped it over and began to replace it among its brethren when I realized that the box felt heavier than a pair of heels should be.

Carefully lifting the top, I held my breath as I stared inside. Unfortunately, before I could take more than one quick peek, I heard a woman behind me asking, "What are you doing here, Savannah?"

It was Laura Moon, one of the last people in Parson's Valley I wanted to see at the moment.

"I CAME TO HELP ROB," I SAID.

"I know; he tried to stop me from coming back here. I was under the impression that I'd hired him to change the locks. Is he shoe shopping, too?" she asked, staring at the box in my hands.

"No, I confess I came back here on my own. I had to use the bathroom, and when I saw the bedroom door open, I couldn't resist a peek inside. Joanne had fabulous taste, didn't she?"

She walked up and reached for the box in my hands. "This is the first time I've seen her closet myself."

I handed the shoe box to her, but as she tried to take it, I "accidentally" let it slip before she could control it.

As the box turned over and the lid fell off, a shower of tens and twenties drifted down to the floor.

"What is this?" she asked, the expression of shock on her face no doubt matching mine.

"Don't ask me. It's not my money. I'm just as surprised as you we found it."

We both stared at the cash lying scattered on the bedroom floor, and then Laura asked me in a hushed voice, "Savannah, how much do you think there is here?"

"I have no idea, but that's not what I'm wondering."

"Where it came from?" she asked as she started gathering it up.

"That, too, but what I'm really curious about is whether any more of the boxes have money in them."

"That's a good point," she said as a genuine smile crossed her lips. As Laura knelt down, she saw that I still wasn't moving. "Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to help me look for more?"

"I'd be glad to help," I said. Apparently Laura had already forgotten her displeasure at finding me in Joanne's bedroom. It was amazing how money could do that. We started going through the boxes one by one, but there were no more hidden caches of money.

As we both sat on the floor among the carpet of shoes, Laura said, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed there wasn't more."

"It was like a treasure hunt, wasn't it?" I looked at the cash Laura had counted. "How much was in there?"

"A little over eleven thousand dollars," she said.

"That's still not bad then, is it?"

She shook her head. "Not bad at all." When she turned to look at me, she added, "Savannah, I need a favor."

I wasn't exactly in a position to refuse her any reasonable request at the moment. "What can I do for you?"

"Do you think there's any chance that we can keep the discovery of this money between the two of us? I don't know how I'm going to handle it yet, and I don't want the rumors to start up that Joanne had millions stashed around the house."

"It was just over eleven thousand," I said.

"Sure, we both know that's the truth, but the exaggerations of it will play out so much better around Parson's Valley, don't you think?"

I had one caveat. "I'm not comfortable lying to my husband, even if it is only a lie of omission."

Laura nodded. "I understand completely, and I wouldn't expect anything less from you." As she stored the bills back into the shoe box and closed the lid, she added, "I plan to tell him about it myself. I know he can be discreet."

"How could you possibly know that?" I asked.

"He was an important man in Charlotte," Laura said. "When he came by with that state trooper to question me yesterday, I could tell he was a man who could keep a secret. I'm not wrong, am I?"

"No, you sized him up pretty well. As a matter of fact, there are a lot of things I'd like to know that he won't tell me, either."

"Then you can tell him what we found, and that way we can figure out what to do with this cash. I know I'm her only beneficiary, but I want to make sure I handle this the proper way." She paused, bit her lower lip for a second, and then added, "Tell you what. Why don't you call him right now? He can come over, and we can figure out what to do about this together."

"That's a great idea," I agreed just as Rob poked his head into the bedroom. It was clear from his expression that he hadn't known what to expect, but finding us sitting on the carpet among all of those shoes wasn't one of the scenarios that had played out in his mind.

"Is everything all right here?" he asked.

"We're fine," I said.

"Did you finish installing the new locks?" Laura asked.

"I've got your new keys right here," he said. Laura and I stood, and I noticed that she had the box of cash tucked under one arm. I didn't blame her. If it had been me, I'd have held on to it tightly myself.

"Do I need to sign something, or should I pay you now?" she asked as she took the keys from him.

"No, I'll just bill you for it."

If it had been me, I might have paid him out of the bounty we'd just found, but Laura didn't even try. "That's fine, then. Thanks for coming and doing that so quickly," she added.

"I was happy to do it." He turned to me and asked, "Savannah, are you coming?"

"If it's all the same to you, I think I'm going to stick around awhile," I said. "Thanks anyway."

I could see the burst of curiosity on his face, but he quickly disguised it. "Good enough. I'll catch up with you later."

"Bye now," I said.

After he was gone, I got out my phone and hit the speed dial for my husband. It was time to bring Zach up to speed on what Laura and I had discovered. There would be a chance to share the notes I'd found with him later.

For now, we had a cash flow situation that he needed to know about.

Chapter 11.