the detail, my hands gripped my glass with unnecessary strength. Out of precaution, I put it down.
“Ann?” I asked. “When did the pool go in?”
“Eight years ago last July. Two months before what would have been Michael and Reggie’s wedding. They were going to have the reception at the house and Reggie wanted a pool. Not to swim in, of course. She just wanted to float candles and flowers in the water. She thought it would look pretty.”
“She always was a mini-Martha, wasn’t she?” I said with a laugh.
Ann nodded in agreement. “That she was. And of course, Dad denied her nothing. He absolutely doted on her. She was so much like him.” She took a sip of wine. “Anyway, the pool went in right around the time that Reggie broke it off with Michael. Right around the time he disappeared.” She paused. “Obviously.”
“That was right after your dad’s Fourth of July party, right?”
Ann closed her eyes and nodded. “Yup, right after that horrible night.”
I took a sip of my wine, unsure if I should continue. “Ann?” She looked up. I took a deep breath. “Did you ever tell anybody what happened at the party?”
Ann gave a rueful twist of her mouth. “You mean, did I ever tell anybody that Michael tried to rape me?”
I nodded.
“No.” She stared at the glass in her hands. “No. I never did. You’re the only one who knows. I don’t know why I never said anything.” She put the glass down and twisted a lock of hair around her finger and continued. “Maybe it was because right after that, Reggie said she’d ended things with him. God, I was so relieved when she told me that. I honestly don’t know if she would have believed me if I had told her. Then Dad discovered that the money was gone and that Michael took it.”
“And then Michael was gone,” I added.
She nodded. “And then Michael was gone. Except now it appears that he wasn’t. Not in the way we all thought, anyway.” Propping her elbows on the counter, she rested her head in her hands. “What are the police going to think when they hear all this?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly.
Neither of us said anything else, drinking our wine in silence. After a few minutes, however, I said, “Ann?”
“Hmmm?”
“If Michael’s dead, what happened to the money?”
CHAPTER 6
Nobody, who has not been in the interior of a family, can say what difficulties of any individual of that family may be.
— EMMA
A NN’S BROWS KNIT TOGETHER. “I don’t know. I imagine it’s still sitting in whatever bank he dumped it. Why? Do you think we could get it back?”
“I don’t know what your options are legally if you ever find it. I guess what I really meant was, could Michael have had an accomplice? Someone from the company, maybe?”
Ann leaned back, considering my question. “I never thought about that. Do you mean that whoever he was working with could have double-crossed him and killed him?”
“It’s a possibility.”
Ann mulled this over. “I just can’t think of who would have done that.” She sighed. “But then, I was surprised to find out that Michael had stolen the money in the first place. Guess I’m not the best judge of character on that count. But I’m sure I can call Scott and get hold of the company records from back then and check who was working. I should probably talk to Miles, too; I bet he’d have some insight.”
“Oh, good idea,” I said.
Miles Carswell was Uncle Marty’s old partner and good friend. They had run the business together almost from the beginning. A few years back, Miles had left the construction business and started his own landscaping company. He and Uncle Marty had stayed close, continuing to work together, referring clients to one another, and doing joint projects.
“I saw him and Laura at the funeral,” I said, “but I didn’t get a chance to talk to them. How are they doing?”
“They’re fine. Laura’s been wonderful, calling me all the time to see
“Ann?” I asked. “When did the pool go in?”
“Eight years ago last July. Two months before what would have been Michael and Reggie’s wedding. They were going to have the reception at the house and Reggie wanted a pool. Not to swim in, of course. She just wanted to float candles and flowers in the water. She thought it would look pretty.”
“She always was a mini-Martha, wasn’t she?” I said with a laugh.
Ann nodded in agreement. “That she was. And of course, Dad denied her nothing. He absolutely doted on her. She was so much like him.” She took a sip of wine. “Anyway, the pool went in right around the time that Reggie broke it off with Michael. Right around the time he disappeared.” She paused. “Obviously.”
“That was right after your dad’s Fourth of July party, right?”
Ann closed her eyes and nodded. “Yup, right after that horrible night.”
I took a sip of my wine, unsure if I should continue. “Ann?” She looked up. I took a deep breath. “Did you ever tell anybody what happened at the party?”
Ann gave a rueful twist of her mouth. “You mean, did I ever tell anybody that Michael tried to rape me?”
I nodded.
“No.” She stared at the glass in her hands. “No. I never did. You’re the only one who knows. I don’t know why I never said anything.” She put the glass down and twisted a lock of hair around her finger and continued. “Maybe it was because right after that, Reggie said she’d ended things with him. God, I was so relieved when she told me that. I honestly don’t know if she would have believed me if I had told her. Then Dad discovered that the money was gone and that Michael took it.”
“And then Michael was gone,” I added.
She nodded. “And then Michael was gone. Except now it appears that he wasn’t. Not in the way we all thought, anyway.” Propping her elbows on the counter, she rested her head in her hands. “What are the police going to think when they hear all this?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly.
Neither of us said anything else, drinking our wine in silence. After a few minutes, however, I said, “Ann?”
“Hmmm?”
“If Michael’s dead, what happened to the money?”
CHAPTER 6
Nobody, who has not been in the interior of a family, can say what difficulties of any individual of that family may be.
— EMMA
A NN’S BROWS KNIT TOGETHER. “I don’t know. I imagine it’s still sitting in whatever bank he dumped it. Why? Do you think we could get it back?”
“I don’t know what your options are legally if you ever find it. I guess what I really meant was, could Michael have had an accomplice? Someone from the company, maybe?”
Ann leaned back, considering my question. “I never thought about that. Do you mean that whoever he was working with could have double-crossed him and killed him?”
“It’s a possibility.”
Ann mulled this over. “I just can’t think of who would have done that.” She sighed. “But then, I was surprised to find out that Michael had stolen the money in the first place. Guess I’m not the best judge of character on that count. But I’m sure I can call Scott and get hold of the company records from back then and check who was working. I should probably talk to Miles, too; I bet he’d have some insight.”
“Oh, good idea,” I said.
Miles Carswell was Uncle Marty’s old partner and good friend. They had run the business together almost from the beginning. A few years back, Miles had left the construction business and started his own landscaping company. He and Uncle Marty had stayed close, continuing to work together, referring clients to one another, and doing joint projects.
“I saw him and Laura at the funeral,” I said, “but I didn’t get a chance to talk to them. How are they doing?”
“They’re fine. Laura’s been wonderful, calling me all the time to see
Similar Books
