Deadly Ever After by Eva Gates (distant reading .txt) 📗

“That’s normal procedure, Mom.” Ricky dropped onto the couch next to her, displacing Fluffy, who glared at him before hopping down. “Have you had breakfast?”

“I was up early. I scarcely got a wink of sleep all night. I was so worried. Didn’t you at least see my messages?”

“Messages?” Ricky patted his jeans pockets once again. “I, uh, seem to have lost my phone. Lucy, did you see my jacket?”

“Nope.”

Watson’s eyes opened slightly. “You’ve misplaced your jacket?”

Ricky shrugged. “It’ll turn up. I hope.”

“Never mind, my darling boy.” Evangeline patted his knee. “You’re here now. You can worry about your phone later. Suzanne and I ordered from room service earlier. Would you like me to call down for them to bring you something?”

“Coffee, lots of it. Bacon and eggs and hash browns. Lots of toast. Tomato juice. I don’t feel too good.”

Evangeline rubbed the back of his hand.

“I might be coming down with a cold,” Ricky lied.

Evangeline started to get to her feet, but Watson said, “Perhaps we can finish here first?”

“Nonsense,” Evangeline said. “It won’t take a minute. You can see my son is very hungry.”

Ricky tried to look hungry. It wasn’t difficult. He looked like a rabid dog that hadn’t eaten recently.

“I’ll take care of it.” Mom reached for the desk phone.

“As I was saying,” Watson said, “I’ll need a list of Mr. Lewiston’s clients and friends who live in the Outer Banks. People he might have been here to visit.”

“And, as I was about to tell you, Detective, I do not know. I paid no mind to my husband’s business dealings, and his fishing-trip companions were not acquaintances of mine.”

Yet Gordon Frankland had known who she was and she had not appreciated seeing him. I didn’t mention that.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Ricky said. “They’ll have records of that sort of thing back at the office.”

“I’ve checked with the front desk, and Mr. Lewiston wasn’t registered here,” Watson said, “nor did he have a reservation. We didn’t find a hotel key on him.”

“His PA would have made any reservations he needed,” Ricky said. “I’ll ask her.”

“Thank you,” Watson said.

Ricky didn’t move. Finally Watson said, “Sooner rather than later would be good.”

“Oh, sorry. Uh … a phone?”

His mother handed hers over, and Ricky placed the call. “Hey, Jackie, it’s me. Ricky? Yeah. Yeah, thanks. Yeah, we’re all upset. I don’t know. I’ll let you know. Right now I need to be with Mom. Did you make hotel reservations here for Dad? You didn’t? You did? Wasn’t that odd?”

Watson plucked the phone out of Ricky’s hand. “This is Detective Sam Watson of the Nags Head Police. To whom am I speaking? Thank you, Mrs. McKenzie. Did you know Mr. Lewiston Senior was planning a trip to North Carolina? Was that normal behavior? Thank you. I’ll be in touch if I need anything else.”

He passed the phone to Evangeline, who said, “I’ll call to let you know what I need when the police have left,” and hung up.

“Your husband’s personal assistant says he left the office Friday afternoon at the usual time, telling her to have a good weekend,” Watson said. “She didn’t hear from him over the weekend, and she would have if travel plans arose suddenly. He didn’t come into the office yesterday morning, missing several appointments. She attempted to call him and got no reply, but he called her at one o’clock when she was on the phone with someone else, and he left a message saying he’d be out of town for a few days and she was to reschedule all his appointments. According to Mrs. McKenzie, this was not a normal pattern of behavior for your husband. Would you agree, Mrs. Lewiston?”

“The very idea of Rich doing anything not scheduled a month in advance is preposterous. Jackie McKenzie makes appointments for him to buy shoes, never mind flight and hotel reservations.” Evangeline snorted. “Saves me having to do it. Jackie has been with him for years, decades. She’s paid very well for her troubles.”

“That’s true,” Ricky said.

I threw my mom a look, and she raised one eyebrow. More than one lawyer has confused his wife and his secretary, and in more ways than one. I made a mental note to ask my dad about Mrs. McKenzie. Was she the sort to finally understand that her position as “office wife” wasn’t leading to the real thing and decide to get her revenge for decades of “troubles,” no matter how well paid she might be?

“Is that your understanding of your father’s behavior?” Watson asked Ricky.

“Totally. I’d be surprised if my dad even knows—knew—how to make a flight or hotel booking.”

“Yet in this case he seems to have come to Nags Head without anyone making his arrangements for him. A car registered in your father’s name was found in the parking lot of Jake’s. You told me you and Mrs. Lewiston flew and then rented a car?”

“That’s right.”

“If your father’s car wasn’t stolen, and it hasn’t been reported as such, then it would indicate he drove down from Boston.”

I remembered the Mercedes with Massachusetts plates I’d seen outside Jake’s.

“Rich drove all the way down here?” Evangeline’s shock was obvious. “I can scarcely believe it.”

“Perhaps he decided to join you for dinner to celebrate Lucy and Connor’s engagement?” Watson said. “As an old family friend?”

“If so,” my mother said, “it would have been the first time anything like that happened. Ever.”

“My husband was not,” Evangeline said, “of a spontaneous nature.”

“So you have no idea why he was here?” Watson asked.

She simply shook her head.

“None,” Ricky said.

A knock at the door and a call of “Room service!” had Ricky leaping to his feet and Fluffy setting up another round of barking. Ricky opened the door, and a waiter pushed in a trolley covered in a white linen cloth and bearing nice china and cutlery, chafing dishes, and a giant carafe of coffee.

Ricky patted his pockets one more time and came up empty once again. He gave his mother