Planting Evidence (A Rainy Day Mystery Book 4) Page 13

  “He was acting all weird last night, all…romantic. He offered to get me a drink—some tea—and I remembered I needed to take some chicken out to defrost. And I found him shaking this…this powder into my cup.”

  I didn’t know what to say so I just offered what I hoped was a surprised look.

  “I grabbed the bottle from his hands and he tried to tell me that he was doing it for us, that he wanted to give me a baby.” She shook her head. “I just don’t want one now, and I don’t know why he can’t understand that.”

  I didn’t know, either. Walter was behaving selfishly and recklessly.

  “He got angry with me,” she said. She scowled. “Can you imagine? He was angry with me. Told me that I loved my store and my friends at the ladies society and my dog more than I love him.”

  I was pretty sure I would love all of those things more than Walter if I were married to him.

  “He told me that having a family would fulfill me in ways those things never could. And he told me he would stop at nothing to convince me of that.”

  Walter sounded a little off his rocker.

  “He sounds a little unstable,” I said, trying to keep my tone as neutral as possible.

  “Oh, he’s just angry,” Sophia said, waving her hand in dismissal. “He’s used to getting his way, and when he doesn’t, he acts like a little baby. I’m just upset that he tried to deceive me. If he thinks he’s getting sex anytime soon after pulling a stunt like that, he has another think coming.”

  A horrified giggle escaped my mouth. Weaponizing sex. That was something I’d never been a party to, and never been on board with. However, based on Sophia’s circumstances, it seemed a just punishment for what her husband had tried to do.

  Leaving him sounded good, too, but it appeared as though Sophia was willing to forgive him.

  “So, there you have it.” She offered a half smile. “All of my dirty laundry.”

  “You didn’t have to tell me.”

  “Oh, I know,” she said. “But I needed to tell someone.”

  I stared at her for a minute. “Why me?”

  She gazed at her dog, then turned her eyes back to me. “You want the truth?” she said at last.

  I nodded, bracing myself.

  “Because you’re an outsider here, Rainy. Which means you’re the only person I can trust.”

  TWENTY EIGHT

  Sophia’s words stayed with me as I left her boutique and walked back to my car. She trusted me because I was an outsider. On the surface, her statement made no sense. I was an outsider; I didn’t belong. Her choice of words made that loud and clear.

  But apparently, being an insider wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

  Sophia was the town gossip; everyone knew it. She was always sticking her nose in everyone’s business. However, that was par for the course with most everyone in Latney. People were always talking about the goings-on in town, whispering things they’d overheard or sharing half-heard stories and gossip. I’d been a victim to this type of talk since the minute I’d arrived, and I just chalked it up to me being the new person in town.

  But suddenly, I understood where Sophia was coming from. If everyone talked and everyone gossiped, no secret was safe. Even though she had good friends, she didn’t think she could trust them with sensitive information. I thought about Vivian and her Paris trip, and the way she’d apparently hesitated in confiding the news to Gunnar. The only reason he’d told me about it was because it had come up in conversation; he hadn’t gone around town, looking to spread the news, which was probably why she’d told him. She knew he wouldn’t blab.

  I mulled this over. Maybe I didn’t want to be an insider, just another resident of Latney.

  And maybe I did have at least one person in town who really did consider me a friend.

  Sophia.

  I had to admit, she’d been pretty convincing in her explanation of why she’d had cash on hand yesterday. And I knew without a doubt that she’d told the truth about what happened with Walter. After all, I’d witnessed what was in those boxes with my own eyes.

  Yes, talking to her had shifted my suspicions away from her.

  And they were now squarely on Walter.

  I thought about what was known in regards to the missing money. There was a check missing from the checkbook, a check that had been signed by Sophia. Vivian knew how to forge her signature—this, I had proof of—but would Walter know how, too? He was married to her, and probably had ample things filed away that sported her signature. As for what we knew about the check itself, we had been told it was cashed in Richmond, at a check-cashing place.

  But the person who’d told us that was Walter. What if he wasn’t telling the truth? What if he’d just told Sophia that was where it had ended up? As the owner of the bank, he had ultimate access to the account.

  And he had a motive to do it, to make it look like Sophia had stolen the money. He wanted her out of the society, and out of her business so that they could start a family. As crazy as it sounded, thinking of him sabotaging his wife by framing her for a theft, it wasn’t any less bizarre than slipping drugs into her drinks in the hopes of seducing her and getting her pregnant.

  I gripped the steering wheel. There was one way I could figure this out, once and for all.

  I needed access to the bank account.

  Briefly, I thought about heading back to Sophia’s boutique and asking her to pull it up, and just as quickly dismissed it. She was already furious with her husband—and she had every right to feel that way. But I was a little uneasy about adding more fuel to the fire, especially since I was acting on a hunch. If my suspicions proved to be untrue, she would never need to know I’d suspected him. And if they were true…well, I’d figure out a way to tell her.

  I owed her as much.

  There was one other person who could get me into the account, one other person who had a level of access that, although not the same as Sophia’s, should still allow her some access.

  Vivian.

  TWENTY NINE

  My stomach growled again when I pulled up in front of Vivian’s house and it was only then that I remembered that I’d forgotten to pick up my burger from the Wicked Wich.

  I wondered how long Dawn had held it for me…and then I wondered how angry she was when I didn’t come back for it. And didn’t pay.

  I sighed. Being on Dawn’s bad side was never a good thing.

  Vivian looked surprised to see me when she answered the door.

  “Are you busy?” I asked. “I have a favor to ask.”

  Her features clouded, but she smiled. “Of course,” she said. “Elena is here, but she was just leaving.” She stepped aside and motioned me into the living room.

  Elena Klersy was perched on the couch, and she couldn’t hide her look of surprise when I walked through the door.

  “Rainy,” she said, blushing furiously.

  “Long time no see,” I said, grinning.

  Vivian looked at Elena and then back at me, her brow furrowed. “Am I missing something?”

  I shook my head. “We ran into each other in town earlier today.”

  Elena stood up and grabbed her purse. “I should probably get going,” she said.

  “I don’t want to hurry you out of here,” I said.

  “No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I was just leaving. I just…I wanted to stop by to make sure things were all set for the festival. We’re two days out.”

  She seemed as though she was in an awful big hurry to get out of there. On any other day, I might have thought more about it. As it was, I was eager for her to leave so I could talk to Vivian about accessing the account.

  Elena said her goodbyes and left, and Vivian returned to the living room.

  “Did you find out anything new about the money?” she asked. She certainly wasn’t wasting any time.

  “I’m not sure,” I told her truthfully. “But I think Sophia might have been framed.”

  Her reaction was not what
I’d expected.

  “Framed?” she scoffed. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Why on earth would you think that?”

  I was a little taken aback by her words. “You think otherwise?”

  I thought back to the confrontation with Savannah, when I’d recklessly offered to float the society several thousand dollars to cover the cost of the festival. Vivian certainly hadn’t looked like she supported the accusations Savannah was flinging around.

  “The check was made out to her and cashed by her,” Vivian said. Her voice was cold, unemotional. “She was in Richmond the same day it was cashed. In Richmond.”

  “Sure,” I said, nodding. After all, when I looked at those details, I’d often come to the same conclusion. “But there is a blank duplicate in the check registry, which means, in theory, anyone could have taken the check and forged it. And if someone wanted to frame Sophia for something, get her in trouble, that would be the perfect way to do it.”

  Vivian shook her head. “That didn’t happen.”

  I frowned. “How are you so sure?”

  She folded her arms and gave me a pointed look. “Because Sophia never lets the checkbook out of her sight. No one else has access to it.”

  I didn’t think that sealed the case, and was about to say this, when Vivian spoke again. “Besides, I know what happened yesterday. I know she paid cash for her delivery. Cash that belongs to the Latney Ladies Society!”

  So Elena had told her.

  “I talked to Sophia about that,” I said quietly. “Did you know she keeps cash on hand at the store? Her own personal cash? It’s the way she keeps herself on a budget. She pays cash for anything she sees at the store instead of writing a check or paying by credit card.”

  Vivian’s mouth twitched and she blinked. I took that as a no, she didn’t know this about her friend.

  “Look, I think you have access to information that might clear some of this up,” I said.

  Vivian gave me an incredulous look. “Me?”

  I nodded.

  “What kind of information would I have?”

  “You have access to the bank account, right?”

  She frowned. “Yes.”

  “And you can log in on your computer?”

  “Why?”

  I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, feeling a little agitated. Why was she being so difficult? “Just answer the question.”

  “I want to know why you want to look at the account. The balance is still zero. The money is still gone.”

  “Okay, but I think we can take a look at the transaction, and maybe see where it was cashed.”

  “We already know where it was cashed. Walter told us. Richmond.”

  I didn’t want to drag Walter’s name into this. Not until I had to.

  “Please, Vivian. Can you just log on and take a look? It will take two minutes of your time. Isn’t that worth it if it leads to figuring out what happened to the money?”

  Another head shake, this one a little more vigorous. “I already know what happened.”

  I clenched my fists. Why was she being so difficult?

  And then, I knew. I took a deep breath. It was time to change tactics. It was time to do what I’d meant to do the last time I’d visited her. When she’d brought up my relationship with Gunnar and I’d decided to leave rather than face her questions.

  “You’re right,” I finally said. I took a deep breath. “You do know what happened.”

  Vivian relaxed a little, giving me a small, triumphant smile.

  I returned the smile. “Because you took the money, didn’t you?”

  THIRTY

  Vivian gasped. “Me?”

  I nodded.

  “I did no such thing!” Her eyes were wide, her mouth rounded in the shape of an O. I’d never seen her look so surprised. “How could you even say such a thing? That’s…that’s libel!”

  “No, libel would be if I printed an article in the local newspaper, accusing you of the theft,” I told her. “Slander doesn’t work here, either, because I would have to tell someone else that I thought you were a thief. What you did a few minutes ago, accusing Sophia? That’s slander.”

  Her cheeks reddened. “You have no right to accuse me of anything!”

  “You had a reason to do it,” I said.

  She gave me a look of shocked surprise. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your trip.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “My trip has nothing to do with this. I would never steal money from the ladies society just so that I could take a trip!”

  “Well, that’s easy for you to say,” I said calmly. “But surely you can’t expect me to just take you at your word.”

  “Why not? I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

  “So I’m supposed to believe you, but not Sophia?”

  She had the decency to look at least a little bit guilty. “That’s different.”

  “No, it really isn’t,” I said, shaking my head. “Sure, there are some things that are a little incriminating, but she’s been adamant that she had nothing to do with it. She’s maintained her innocence through the whole thing. You’ve convicted her on circumstantial evidence. As one of her closest friends, doesn’t she deserve the benefit of the doubt, especially from you?”

  Vivian was silent for a moment. We were still standing in the living room, only a few yards apart. Her posture had relaxed a little, her shoulders slumping as she hung her head and let my words sink in.

  “Maybe you’re right,” she said at least. She looked back at me. “Maybe I have been too quick to jump to conclusions.”

  I bit back a satisfied smile. Well, as satisfied as it could be, sticking up for someone who, in my mind at least, was still on my suspect list. She’d dropped, of course—her explanation about paying cash to the driver made sense—but I still wasn’t quite ready to officially cross Sophia off the list.

  Vivian turned away from me and sank into one of the couches. She took a deep breath, then let it out. “Do you really think so little of me that you actually believe I could have stolen the money?”

  I hesitated. It wasn’t that I thought so little of her; it was that I had to keep all the options on the table. Because if there was one thing I’d learned since living in Latney, it was that nothing was ever quite as it seemed.

  Nothing.

  “That’s not it at all,” I said. “I'm just trying to figure out what happened to the money.”

  But if she heard me, she made no indication. Her eyes glazed over, and she stared off into the distance, past my head and toward the window. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to almost have something and then find out that it’s just out of reach?”

  It was apparently a rhetorical question, because she didn’t wait for me to answer.

  “I have wanted to go to Paris since I was in my twenties,” she whispered. “That was where I was supposed to go for my honeymoon, but my husband wanted to go to Hawaii instead.” She wrinkled her nose. “For anniversaries and birthdays and Christmases, a trip was always at the top of my list, but there was always some excuse. After the divorce, I decided I was going to do it, even if it meant I had to go on my own. Daddy offered to pay for it. At first, I told him no. I was going to figure out a way to make it happen on my own, but he insisted.”

  I listened intently. This was the first I’d heard about her dad paying for the trip, and it confused me. Gunnar had said she was worried about being able to afford it, but why would she have needed to if Daddy was paying for it?

  “So last year, I was all set to go. I’d renewed my passport, bought a brand new wardrobe. I was planning a fall trip, but Daddy told me to wait. He’d invested in some real estate in North Carolina—the Outer Banks—and he wanted to wait until he was a little more liquid.”

  I nodded. That made sense. And I didn’t think she’d be in a position to argue with that logic, especially since he was the one offering to pay for her trip.

  “So you rescheduled
? For this year?”

  “Yes. I was all set to go. A December trip. I booked it in the spring.”

  “That was early,” I commented. “For booking, I mean.”

  “I wanted it on the calendar. I wanted to see it there as something to look forward to.” Her expression darkened. “But then everything fell apart.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Leslie.”

  It was one word, but I could hear the anger and resentment dripping from those two syllables.

  “Leslie?” I repeated the name of Vivian’s stepsister. “What does she have to do with your trip?”

  “Leslie needed money.” She practically spit the words.

  “I’m not following…”

  Vivian brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. “After the whole fiasco this summer, Daddy felt sorry for her. He’s always helped support her, so when she told him she needed some time to ‘find herself’ after the whole kidnapping thing, he offered to fund her backpacking trip with Tori.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Really?” I had a vague memory of Vivian telling me about Leslie’s plans, but hadn’t given it much thought.

  “Really,” she said flatly. “And the money from the Outer Banks condos is still tied up so the only way he could help her out is if he backed out of my trip.”

  I felt a surge of indignation for her.

  “Wow,” was all I could manage to say.

  She nodded and her lips twisted into a sardonic smile. “I’m not sure if I can convey how it feels to be constantly overshadowed by your stepsister with your own father.”

  I couldn’t imagine.

  “So, because of Leslie, I now have an airline ticket to Paris that I can’t use. Because I can’t afford to pay for the hotels and all of the other incidentals needed for the actual trip.”

  I made a sympathetic face. “Can you pay with a credit card or something? Maybe take out a loan?”

  Vivian shook her head. “My credit cards are all maxed out,” she said. “And I’ve already refinanced the house.”

  I mulled over her words. She was leveraged to the point of not being able to take out any more money; that much was obvious. Which, in my mind at least, made her a prime suspect in regards to the missing money.