“He must have documents that state that’s his name then, hum?” she said.

  “Yes. I’m fairly certain its him though.”

  “And why is that?” She wasn’t skeptical exactly, but she didn’t want to negate the fact that this Ted person could be impersonating her nephew. That had happened to her before.

  “I can understand your hesitation,” Jacob admitted, “but I’m pretty sure it’s him. Ted Henry didn’t exist until two days before Ralph landed in Virginia. He has the same personal information as your nephew, and your nephew seems to have dropped off the face of the earth. I’m still working on a visual connection, but I’m pretty sure it’s him.”

  “And do you know why he’s in Seattle? It seems like a bit of a coincidence for a man who apparently doesn’t want any contact with his family.”

  “I’m not sure yet. Like I said, he’s at a motel so it’s not a permanent residence, but I can’t seem to find a connection.”

  She nodded slowly. “Jacob, I’m going to need you to get me an address. To where his motel is.”

  Jacob met her gaze but didn’t speak for nearly a full minute. “Henrietta—” he finally began.

  “Please,” she said, holding up a hand, “he’s my nephew.”

  She knew there were many arguments to combat that. He was actively hiding from his family. He had connections, though distant, to the Chicago mob. He wasn’t seeking out a relationship with his family…And yet Henrietta knew she had to see him.

  Still, the nagging question in her heart was whether or not she should tell her sister about this or wait until after she’d spoken with her nephew?

  “I’ll get you the address,” Jacob said with a forced smile.

  “Thank you,” she said, leaning forward and smiling back at him. “You really are a great sleuth.”

  She could see her words pleased him, but she could also sense the hint of worry left behind on the boy’s face. And wasn’t there a hint of worry in her own heart for likely the same reasons?

  13

  Henrietta hadn’t planned on going to Sassy’s shop. When she’d left H.H. Antiques she’d merely needed to get out of the house. To think through the information Jacob had shared with her about Calvin, but also to gain perspective on Sassy and the murder of Mark and now Anne.

  They were linked. Henrietta knew that much and she assumed Abe was coming to that conclusion as well, but how. That was the most pressing question. The Deep Water Corporation had something to do with it as well, but Henrietta couldn’t begin to know what that would be.

  She pulled all the information she had on the DWC to mind. Initially they had wanted to sponsor a boat race to Canada. It had looked like a corporation coming into town and supporting efforts to grow the town. It had looked good. But then it had been discovered that they were more interested in what they could smuggle out in those boats. Of course, DWC hadn’t been directly linked to smuggling and yet…the idea was there.

  They had also stepped up their involvement in town functions as a large sponsor and then one of their organizations had blackmailed the mayor. While Mayor Lawrence seemed to know nothing about their intention, there was a deeper reason, Henrietta was sure.

  And now this—DWC buying up properties that were linked only by the presence of basements and the use of blackmail. Again, she was positive no direct link to DWC would be found, they covered their tracks too well for that, but she had a feeling there had to be something—some connection they’d overlooked.

  Now, as her mind cycled through questions and possibilities she looked up to find she was at Sassy’s shop, the front window boasting a ‘Closed’ sign which made Henrietta sad. She knew her friend had been blackmailed by Mark but now Mark was dead. Perhaps he had gotten greedy and wanted more than his fair share of the sale. Was that why he’d been killed? And why Anne?

  More importantly, who had killed them?

  “Interesting to find you here, Henrietta.”

  The voice, like ice crystals shattering, drew Henrietta around. “Anita Black. The Deep Water Corporation’s henchman.” She added the last part and felt petty, but what was done was done.

  Anita laughed. “Hardly. What, may I ask, are you doing in front of my property?”

  “Your…what are you talking about?’

  “I may be a little premature, but trust me—this lovely little shop is coming under new management soon.”

  “Let me guess. The DWC’s ownership?”

  Anita merely smiled.

  “Well, until there is hard evidence to that fact, you have no claim on this shop, but my dear friend Sassy does.”

  Anita’s eyes narrowed. “You so freely associate with murderers?”

  “I freely associate with those who are wrongly accused.” Henrietta held the woman’s gaze. “Did you know Anne McGill?”

  Anita frowned in thought. “The woman whose body was found on the beach? No, I can’t say I did know Anne.”

  “Odd, seeing you there near her house and then hearing that you have an interest in these buy-ups. Seems you would have crossed paths with a fellow DWC employee.”

  “I can assure you, there are no ties between Anne and DWC. Directly.”

  The way Anita added directly made Henrietta certain that they wouldn’t find any ties. Yet another dead end.

  “Good day,” Henrietta said, turning on her heel.

  “Henrietta,” Anita called after her, “this town will be reborn. You’ll see. And it will all be because of DWC.”

  Henrietta didn’t deign to respond but it did make her wonder, yet again, what DWC’s interest in Heart’s Grove could possibly be. They were a small, tight-knit community. They had a strategic placement that kept them close to the Olympic National Forest as it did Seattle and Canada. There were natural resources and a rich history, but other than that Heart’s Grove was nothing more than a hometown community.

  Wasn’t it?

  But it was clear that Anita and the DWC had something else in mind. Something big and, likely, something bad planned. Henrietta just needed to find it out and stop it.

  Her phone rang as she walked at a brisk pace away from where she’d left Anita drooling at the door of Sassy’s shop.

  “Yes?” she answered, not even bothering to look at caller ID.

  “Hey Henrietta, this is Scott.” She slowed to catch her breath.

  “Hi Scott, what is it?”

  “I’ve got some further information on the other attendees at the tasting. Thought you might be interested in knowing what I found.”

  She looked down the next few blocks and could just make out the Gershwin Private Investigators’ office sign. “I’ll be there in…five minutes.”

  “Oh,” he sounded surprised, “Okay. See you then.”

  She hung up and kept up her fast pace. Perhaps this was the break they needed to clear Sassy’s name.

  “And you were just looking into them…why?” Henrietta asked.

  Scott shrugged. “You know. No stone left unturned.”

  “But, I don’t understand. I thought Abe would have been all over the others at the tasting.”

  “Oh, he was,” Scott assured her. “I have found that he is very thorough, but there are some things he…can’t see?”

  “You speaking nonsense, boy?” Ralph said, coming from down the hall and setting his mug in the small sink at the back of the office.

  Scott made a face. “Good morning to you too, Mr. Grouchy.”

  “I just want this case solved,” Ralph admitted, leaning up against the partition that separated each desk area of the front room. “What did you find?” he said, sounding more congenial than before.

  “Well, as I was saying,” Scott shot his father a look, “I think that Abe looked into this couple and thought things were fine, but he didn’t look far enough back.”

  “Seems odd,” Henrietta said, “He’s very thorough.”

  “He is, but they did a really good job of creating this new life for themselves.”

  “Just to be clear,” Ralph said, “We’re talking about the newlyweds?”

  “Yes. Angela Lambert and Tim Watt. Or, now, Angela and Tim Watt.”

  “And what’s their crime?”

  “This isn’t Angela’s first marriage. In fact, Lambert is her maiden name but she was Angela Young before marrying Tim. When you look into her history, she was married to Tim’s former best friend—Carson. Together, they were sold a house by—you guessed it, Mark Wharton—that had structural issues.”

  “Oh no,” Henrietta said.

  “Oh yes. At the time that this happened it was actually Mark’s side business—Crown Housing LLC—that was listed on the sale and documents. Then, a few years after the sale, there was a storm and—”

  “Oh my.”

  “Oh my is right. Angela’s husband, and Tim’s best friend, was killed. Angela was away on a business trip and came home to find Carson had been killed.”

  Henrietta thought back. “I think I saw the article about that. Such a tragedy.”

  “It wasn’t immediately clear what had caused the house to collapse and some pointed to the tree that had fallen, things like that,” Scott said.

  “What changed then?” Henrietta asked.

  “That’s the rub.” He clicked a few keys. “It looks like Angela and Tim were working on purchasing a house and from speaking with their new realtor, they were talked into a home inspection. Angela was confused, said she’d never gone through that process before, and the realtor she was working with cited a few cases where homes had been poorly inspected and problems came along with that.”

  “It got her thinking,” Ralph said, tracking along with the story.

  “Yes. We can’t know for sure, but I spoke with a lawyer—John Wright—who, while not disclosing everything, mentioned that Angela and Tim were planning on entering into a lawsuit with Mark.”

  “And then he showed up dead,” Ralph said.

  “When speaking with Mr. Wright did you find that they thought it would be a useful case?”

  “How’d you know, Henrietta?” Scott asked.

  She’d had a hunch but wanted to see what he said.

  With her silence Scott continued. “John told me and told them that the likelihood that Mark would be charged with anything from so long ago—and with the house torn down now—was not likely.”

  “So, they took things into their own hands,” Ralph mused.

  “We can’t confirm that,” Scott pointed out.

  “No, but we can look into it,” Henrietta said. “Seems there was no end to the amount of people who wanted to kill Mark Wharton.”

  “Sassy was being blackmailed, the DWC wasn’t happy—”

  “Wait,” Henrietta said, looking up at Ralph. “How do we know they weren’t happy with him?”

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, and I assume that’s good for DWC, just as Anne’s death is good for them because if she’d gone to the police about Mark the DWC could have been implicated. But, how do we know that DWC was behind all of this?”

  “We don’t,” Scott said.

  “Exactly,” Henrietta said, sounding defeated. “But maybe that’s not the point right now.”

  “Come again?” Ralph said.

  “I am fairly certain that, even if it comes out that Angela and Tim had something to do with Mark’s death, and it was motivated by revenge, there was a motivating factor behind it.”

  “You mean DWC,” Scott said.

  “Yes.” She nodded, pacing in front of Scott’s desk. “It will be impossible to connect, I’m sure. She covers her tracks, but when the end result is DWC getting the buildings they want, they likely don’t care who does their dirty work.”

  “She?” Scott said.

  Henrietta looked up and met his gaze. “Anita Black. I’m fairly certain she was behind all of this, but we need to get this information to Abe. Immediately.”

  Scott nodded. “I’ll send it over right now.”

  Henrietta sighed and headed toward the door but Ralph stopped her before leaving.

  “Hey, we’ll get them.”

  She turned doubtful eyes toward him. “We don’t know what they want of Heart’s Grove and we don’t know who they even are, expect for their mouthpiece, Anita Black. And even she seems to be above the law.”

  “No one is above the law, you know that.”

  “I know, it just feels that way.”

  Gently, with slow, deliberate motions, Ralph reached up and cupped her cheek. “We’ll get ‘em. I promise.”

  Henrietta allowed his warm, calloused hand ground her in reality. She wasn’t alone and, while they seemed to be up against a faceless entity with reach beyond their understanding, she trusted Ralph and their partnership.

  “We will,” she agreed.

  14

  Henrietta sat in the front seat of Abe’s detective car, the heater warming her feet. The man himself sat beside her as they looked out the large front window at the small, cape cod style home sitting on a bluff overlooking the ocean.

  Then, as if in slow motion or like something you would see on a television show, officers came out with both Angela and Tim Watt in handcuffs between them. Angela’s head bent low, hair covering her face, and Tim’s expression was drawn.

  “We still don’t know who killed Anne,” Abe said, his voice filling the once silent space.

  “I think it was Mark.”

  She felt Abe’s eyes on her. “Can you prove it?”

  “Not yet.”

  He chuckled. “If you let me in to what you’re thinking maybe I could help. We do, eventually, catch killers,” he said, pointing toward the couple being ushered into the police car.

  “I know you do. And it’s not that I don’t have confidence in you. It’s that I don’t have enough to go on yet. Hunches don’t sign warrants,” she said. It sounded like a phrase she’d heard on a television show.

  “Henrietta,” Abe said, turning toward her in the seat. “I know Scott came on to this couple in researching who else was at the tasting, but did you know?”

  She turned to meet his gaze. “No. I had no idea.” She wasn’t going to tell him she’d thought that the DWC had a hand in it, or that she still thought they did.

  “I was convinced it was Sassy. I was building my case. I thought you’d even handed it to me when we found out she was being blackmailed.”

  “I know,” she said. “If I hadn’t known Sassy as I do, I might have thought the same.”

  “But you believed in her innocence.”

  “Always.”

  The car, containing the couple whose purchase history had included the chilies used in Mark’s murder, was now pulling away from the curb.

  “Shall we head back to the station so you can see your friend?”

  Henrietta smiled. “Yes, please.”

  They drove in silence, Henrietta lost in thought. When they reached the station and went inside she was surprised to see a man—clearly a lawyer—standing with Angela and Tim.

  “You go ahead,” the lawyer was saying. “I’ll be coming in to speak with you soon. Please refrain from answering any questions until I’m with you.”

  They nodded and were taken away and Abe moved forward to shake hands with the man. “Wright, good to see you.”

  “You too, Abe. Just bad circumstances.”

  “Sure is,” Abe admitted. “Oh, this is Henrietta Hewitt, owns H.H. Antiques in town. Henrietta, this is John Wright. He’s a lawyer but I don’t hold that against him.” The men shared a laugh.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Wright.” She looked between them. “How do you two know one another?”

  Abe grinned. “Outside of work, I do have extracurricular actives, Henrietta. John and I met at the boat club. We sometimes sail together.”

  Henrietta nodded. “How lovely. Do you have your own practice, Mr. Wright?” She asked, smiling up at him sweetly.

  “No, actually,” he said with a kind smile. “I work for The Deep Water Corporation.”

  Henrietta’s stomach clenched with this realization. What was a lawyer for the DWC doing working with the Watt couple? Was DWC paying the bill? This was yet another connection of DWC to these murders.

  Before she could ask any more questions a petite officer with dark brown hair popped her head into the reception area. “Uh, Mr. Wright? They’re ready for you in room B.”

  “Thank you,” he said with a nod to the woman. “And nice to meet you Miss Hewitt. Abe, see you around.”

  Henrietta merely nodded, watching the man go. This was growing deeper than she’d imagined but she had no hard evidence.

  “Henrietta, it looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  She forced a smile. “Sorry, just anxious to see Sassy.”

  “Be right back,” he said.

  Then, only a few minutes later the doors opened and Sassy came out, carrying a paper bag of her affects and wearing the same outfit she’d come to the station in.

  “Henrietta,” she said, dropping the bag and embracing her friend. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  “Welcome back,” Henrietta said with a smile. “Want to go home?”

  Sassy nodded. “More than anything.”

  Henrietta bid farewell to Abe and they left out the front door. Once in the car, Henrietta turned to her friend.

  “I need to stop by my shop before taking you home, if you don’t mind?”

  Sassy shrugged. “I don’t care where we go as long as it’s far, far away from the police station.”

  Henrietta had hoped she’d say that and took off to the shop. When they arrived, she parked and turned to her friend.

  “Why don’t you come in really quick? I won’t be long, but you don’t want to be stuck in the car.”

  Sassy agreed and they took the front steps toward the shop which hosted a ‘Closed’ sign for the day. Sassy didn’t seem to notice it.

  When Henrietta stepped back to let her friend in the front door, she hid her smile and quickly closed the door behind her. “Right this way, to the counter section for a moment.”