Phil Graystone had a lot of patience, and they’d had very little to scuffle about for a long time, but Lucas could tell by his father’s face, the thinning lips, the flash of something in his eyes he couldn’t quite read, that he was not getting an answer.

  “Since when do you enter through the side? You knew it was wrong. I’m disappointed, Lucas. Your instinct is what has made you a great detective. It’s what would have made you an incredible real estate agent. You need to follow it. I don’t want to have this discussion again.” He headed back inside. “Your mom and Lexie are spending the day baking. She’ll drop her off this evening.”

  That was it. That was all his dad said. Then he went inside and let the door shut on its own.

  There was so much he wanted to say. He would be a prime suspect given the intense conversations he had with Jeremiah and Jamie Finch the day before. Eventually that would come out. He had to tell someone his alibi.

  As he drove to Clay Real Estate, Lucas couldn’t get the look on his dad’s face out of his mind. Dad was right, of course. Lucas knew it. He knew all along he’d be taken off the case. His father knew him too well. Knew his ethics were high. Of course, he should be off this case, but it was his family. There’s no way he could walk away, especially when there seemed to be so many secrets. Was he in trouble?

  Now, he thought back on what Belle told him that he’d initially blown off. Intense conversations. Who had she mentioned? Was it Jamie and Jeremiah who had talked with his dad? Now, he couldn’t wait to talk to her again and hear every last detail. His father didn’t have a temper. He wasn’t one to go around yelling at people, especially during an open house.

  Jeremiah was a crooked rat. A mean one at that. Lucas wouldn’t put it past him to put the squeeze on anyone.

  He gripped the steering wheel like somehow all his questions and stress could be resolved if he just squeezed it hard enough. He pulled into the parking lot of Clay Real Estate. Not exactly where he wanted to be. Not that he enjoyed running into Henry Clay, former classmate, who always gave him a hard time about something, even if he had to invent a reason on the spot.

  Before he talked to the new detective taking the case, he needed to get as much information as possible. Suspects. Who were the suspects? His dad, but that conversation wasn’t happening. Mia Harmen, whom he just talked to. Jamie, whom he’d talk to in the next few minutes. Other real estate agents, friends and family of Jeremiah. Lucas remembered Jeremiah was married to a woman who definitely enjoyed the lifestyle Jeremiah’s wealth provided.

  He couldn’t think who the detective taking over would be. He knew a couple guys from the surrounding towns. They were nice enough. Maybe they’d keep Lucas informed, even ask for his insight.

  Clay Real Estate was just as schmoozy and salesy as he remembered. He went straight to Henry’s office and knocked on the door.

  Henry motioned him in. “Why am I not surprised to see you here?” He leaned back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk smeared across his face. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard.”

  “Of Jeremiah Fisher? Nasty business. Send my apologies to your father. Losing a top money-maker.”

  Lucas tried to stay calm. “Not everything’s about money.”

  “That’s where you're wrong. In this business, it’s all about money. Probably why your sensitive soul couldn’t take it.”

  “And murder is a stroll down a cherry blossomed lane with fluffy bunnies everywhere,” Lucas said, drily.

  “So poetic. I think the library has a writer’s group. Anyway, bad stuff, this murder.” He veered away from poking fun at Lucas. “I’m sure your father is concerned how it will affect business. Never mind the sale of that money-pot Jeremiah was about to sell.”

  “If nothing else, I’m sure you’ll use Jeremiah’s murder to your advantage,” Lucas said.

  “Let’s not pretend, Lucas, that the man was a beloved member of the community. He wasn’t. I’m sure some might privately celebrate the man’s gone.”

  “Who would you suspect?” Lucas asked.

  “That’s your job. I would say the entire town is a suspect. There’s not a person he didn’t offend or ridicule or insult in some form.”

  Enough. Lucas had enough of this taunting. It never ended well, and he was running short on time where he’d even be on the case. Maybe minutes. “I’d like to talk to Jamie Finch.”

  A secretive smirk appeared once again, before Henry said, “Down the hall to the left. Have fun.” Then, in a motion of dismissal, he returned to the paperwork on his desk.

  Lucas didn’t bother with the polite goodbyes.

  As he moved down the hall, he wasn’t surprised, and understood Henry’s smirk when he heard Belle’s voice come from Jamie’s office. No wonder Henry wasn’t surprised. Lucas wasn’t either.

  On any other day, he might have stood outside the door listening in on Belle’s amateur interrogations, though he had to admit she came out with a few zingers, but not today. He’d take over.

  He walked in and banged smack into Belle as she was leaving.

  He grunted. She gasped, fumbled, apologized.

  She realized it was him and laughed. “Oh, it’s just you.”

  “I suppose I don’t need to ask what you’re doing here,” he said, eyes on Belle, who no longer looked at him.

  Instead, she peered past him, her eyes turning into moons. She gasped, “It’s her!”

  “Who?”

  “I’ve been trying to tell you about her since she came into the shop.”

  He whipped around to see a woman coming down the hall toward him, Henry Clay right behind her. He didn’t have a good feeling about this.

  “Detective Graystone, I’m here to relieve you of your duties.” She peered at him, neutral expression, speaking matter-of-factly. Like a cop.

  The woman dressed simply, in colors of black and gray. Her black hair was pulled back, thick orange glasses resting on her nose. Lucas understood the situation faster than most people. He’d met and he’d worked with detectives like her before. No nonsense. Very little emotion. Very focused. Almost too much.

  Jamie’s voice spoke from behind him. “What’s going on out here?”

  The woman directed her words at Jamie. “Nothing that concerns you. You will be coming down to the station to answer questions.” She studied the situation. “I can see, Detective Graystone, that you are here trying to solve the case. Even though everything I have learned about you reveals you would know better. You are officially off this case. You will be reassigned and should check in at the station.”

  Lucas ignored the absolute glee on Henry’s face as the woman humiliated him. He knew this was coming. He wouldn’t fight it. That would be even more immature. “When would you like to meet so I can share details of my investigation so far?” Maybe then he could impress her, get on her good side, so she would at least keep him up to date.

  She straightened even more. “That will not be necessary. I will run my own investigation. I will not be consulting with you.”

  He tried not to look shocked. Protocol at least called for him to update her. He’d talked with Mia. He knew about the bet. He’d discovered the body.

  “I can see from your reaction that it shocks you. Normally, I would ask for an update, even if not needed, but you are biased. Any information you have gathered is tainted with your emotion. It must be discarded.”

  Lucas saw his plans unraveling. There was no way she’d keep him updated on her investigation or ask for his insight.

  It was like the detective feared he might argue. She forged ahead. “I will bring fresh eyes to this case in a way you can’t. My family member isn’t the top suspect. If you attempt to harass me or talk to me, I’ll file for a restraining order. I suggest you stay away from your father also.”

  Top suspect?

  The hot flush of humiliation crept up the back of his neck at her strong words—in front of everyone, too. It was like she assumed the worst about him, and she didn’t even know him. He had a gut feeling she wouldn’t try either. He could deal with that. What he couldn’t deal with was his dad being a prime suspect.

  Since when did his dad hit the top of the list? Sure, his alibi was weak and he was hiding something, but Mia didn’t have a rock-solid alibi either.

  He felt the light touch on his arm, before Belle spoke. “Let’s go get some coffee.”

  “Hello again, Belle. I enjoyed the pumpkin spice coffee this morning, even though the lack of traffic at first suggested it might not be good.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment. Nice to see you again, Mona.”

  Belle hooked her elbow through his own, practically dragging him from any further confrontation.

  He wanted to be able to keep up appearances on the drive to The Beanery, but he couldn’t. This was new for him. There were always challenges in a case, times when he was frustrated or hit walls, but to be cut off? This was devastating. Especially with this case. Maybe he should send a letter letting his dad know to be careful. He probably wouldn’t even read it.

  “It’s okay, you know,” Belle said.

  “What?”

  “To feel whatever you’re feeling. Frustrated, maybe?”

  “You could say that.” He pulled in and parked, trying to relax his jaw so he didn’t wear his teeth to nubs by grinding them.

  Bixby heard them enter, after Belle opened and closed the door more than once.

  “Some kind of secret code?” Lucas asked, attempting to be civil.

  “Yes. My way of telling him, pumpkin spice coffee, stat.”

  “Very funny.”

  She touched his arm. “It will be okay.”

  Darn right it would be. After she told him everything she knew. He felt the tension, the tightness in his muscles, the way his mind raced. Normally, he would take it out by going for a long run, but nailing down clues would help too. Then, he would run before Lexie arrived home in a couple hours.

  Bixby placed a trio of mugs on a table. He was glowing with anticipation, the way he couldn’t hide a grin, the fidgeting. “Let’s talk murder.”

  “Victim, Jeremiah Fisher. Top agent at Graystone Estates. Unlikeable and that’s an understatement.” Belle tapped her fingers against the mug.

  Lucas had no problem sitting back, letting Belle spill what she knew. This was time to soak it all in, while letting his heart rate return to normal.

  Belle continued, “Most likely, he was pushed from the second-story railing at the open house. The way he fell, how he landed, was not a jump. It was a push from behind. There was a sapphire ring on the floor near him. Either it fell from his pocket or the killer dropped it.”

  “One fact my dad was willing to share was that Jeremiah had a showing for the house almost right after the open house. With a Todd McGovern.”

  “Top suspect?” Bixby asked.

  Belle gave Lucas a questioning look. He said, “Go ahead and include my dad. The detective taking over made it clear he’s a prime suspect.”

  “Right. Detective Mona Malloy ordered coffee here the morning of the murder before the open house. She is very black and white. Reads a situation but with no nuance or allowing for exceptions other than what she sees.” She hesitated, then said, “When she was here, she asked about Detective Lucas Graystone. When I asked why she was in town, she replied murder.”

  Lucas couldn’t help but respond. “She said that?” He groaned. Was she looking into the open position here in Everly? That meant they might be partners.

  “I was going to warn you but kept getting interrupted or it would slip my mind. I thought I saw her outside the window at the open house. That’s why I was at the window when you arrived. It was there that I observed Phil Graystone and Jeremiah Fisher arguing outside. They were extremely angry. Both of them.”

  “Could you hear what they said?” Bixby asked.

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  “Tell me about the conversation, the one between my dad and Jamie.”

  “I wish I’d heard more. All I can tell you is that Jamie was pretty worked up. Furious. He called Jeremiah a cheater. It was like he wanted your dad to do something.”

  Lucas thought of all the ways he’d follow up on that. He’d talk to his dad to discover the details of that conversation. Was Jamie calling him a cheater, in general, or was it out of frustration that Jeremiah always seemed to win big? Or, was there a specific instance of Jeremiah acting illegally, which wouldn’t surprise Lucas at all. “Belle, were you able to get anything else from Jamie today?”

  “He basically complained about Jeremiah. He implied that Jeremiah had stolen sales and clients from him, but I couldn’t tell how much of what he said was exaggeration or frustration. Maybe wishful thinking. Someone to blame for his failures.” Belle perked up. “Almost forgot. At the women’s meeting about our raffle, I talked with Claire Fisher.”

  Claire, that was her name. “And?”

  “She played the part well. I guess they’d been separated for a while, but she knew how to cry, except there were no tears.”

  “Mia told me Claire just last week came to the office to beg for more money. She threatened to sue,” Lucas said.

  “What about alibis?” Bixby asked. “Shouldn’t that eliminate some of the suspects?”

  That was where this case was strange. “No one I’ve talked to yet has anything even close to a solid alibi. My dad was shopping, doing errands.”

  “Ooh,” Belle interrupted. “Jamie said he was driving around town looking at the various houses for sale. He liked to see them in person. And Claire was home scrapbooking about her Sweet’ums.”

  Bixby choked on his coffee. “Sweet’ums?”

  Belle shrugged. “Even though they were separated, they had a long marriage. I’m sure their relationship was complicated.”

  “You’re being very generous,” Lucas said, feeling the gut-sinking devastation that he wouldn’t be the one to follow through with any of this. Not the wishy-washy alibis. Nothing. It would be Detective Mona Malloy.

  “I have an idea,” Belle said, a mischievous hint to her words. “The next couple days, I’ll be visiting local businesses to ask for donations for the raffle for the pumpkin festival. Maybe…Lucas could join me.”

  He caught her drift. They could ask around about Jeremiah and Todd McGovern, see if anyone knew him. See if anyone knew anything.

  He hated being in this position. “I can’t tomorrow. I need to report and find out where I’m being reassigned. But I’ll join you the next day.”

  Chapter Eight

  Belle tried her hardest to be enthusiastic in every business she entered and with every owner she met. She smiled. She introduced herself and talked about The Beanery. She could tell the ones who had frequented her business by their smiles and nods. They expressed true delight. They offered real smiles and comments.

  That was okay.

  She hadn’t been in all their businesses either.

  It was almost the end of the day at The Beanery, so Bixby joined her at a table. “Where did you go? Most importantly, did you receive lots of prizes?”

  “First, canvasing businesses is more exhausting than I realized.” She hugged the mug of pumpkin spice coffee with her hands and took a moment to breathe in the scent. “But most were generous. They were all familiar with the Women’s Charity Organization and Forsythia. All I had to do was mention the name and they were on board. I went to all the restaurants. That’s easy. Gift cards for a meal out.”

  “Well, if you wait for me to close, I’ll join you on the second round. I do know some people and can make introductions.”

  “That would be great.”

  Bixby returned to the kitchen. Belle realized it was more than just the canvasing. That part, was in fact, the easy part. There were other things on her mind, bothering her. First, Lucas. She saw the devastation even though he tried to hide it when Mona took the case from him. Especially right in front of Henry Clay. But it made sense. The fact his father was a suspect provided more motivation, but it did not give Lucas a clear mind to see and judge evidence correctly. The temptation would be there to steer the investigation away from his father.

  Then there was Sir Jack. Belle felt like she should be making more progress with him. She wasn’t sure how to go from feeding him through the cage to him trusting her enough to sit on her shoulder. And, there was the fact that he destroyed any kind of toy she put in his cage. She’d love to find an expert to talk to face-to-face.

  The bell jingled and in walked Lexie, slumped and slouched in her manner, and quite grumpy.

  “Hey, there!” Belle called out.

  Bixby heard and within seconds delivered the hot cocoa and plump pumpkin cookies slathered with cream cheese frosting. Bixby’s cookies had to cheer up Lexie.

  Once they were seated, Lexie picked at her food, not touching the cocoa, Belle asked, “Why the grumpy face?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Hmm. Then I’ll have to guess. Ms. Kratz gave you fifty pages of math problems for homework tonight.” When that didn’t get a response, she said, “You failed the big social studies test you studied for.” Belle knew for a fact there was no way that happened. Lexie knew the information by heart. She could have rattled off dates and people in her sleep.

  Finally, a hint of a smile. “It’s Uncle Lucas. He’s making me grumpy. You can blame him.”

  Belle wanted to pass on something that took her years to learn while shoved in the tiny attic room. “People are allowed to feel grumpy or upset.” She chose her words carefully. “But you can’t blame him for your actions. You don’t have control over how other people act or the decisions they make. But you do have control over how you respond.”

  It took a few moments, and Belle gave her that time.

  Finally, Lexie said, “So I shouldn’t be grumpy just because Uncle Lucas has been.”