A Fatal Slip(Sweet Nothings)

Chapter 14




EMMA wasn’t sure if Liz would be there when she got to the Grangers’, but her station wagon was parked in the driveway as usual.

“You look terribly glum,” Liz said when Emma stuck her head into the office to say hello. “I hope you’re not worrying about Brian. The doctor was quite positive that everything is going to be fine.”

“It’s not Brian. It’s Aunt Arabella.” Emma leaned against the wall and watched as Liz adjusted the lens on her camera. “She’s afraid her memory is going. I think it’s just stress, but unfortunately, she’s told Detective Walker three different stories about where she was during the fireworks when Hugh was killed.”


Liz now looked as concerned as Emma felt. “The stress must be getting to your aunt. We have to figure out who did murder Hugh and put an end to all this,” Liz said in a near whisper. “Personally, I’d like to know where Mariel was when Granger was killed. That dark-haired fellow was here again today—the one we saw her sneaking around with on the terrace the other night. I was pulling into the driveway when I noticed him walking across the field toward the barn, where she was checking on her horse.”

“It seems strange to me that he never comes into the house.”

“Not if they’re having an affair. He’s probably keeping his distance until everything is settled.” Liz stretched her arms overhead. “I could do with some hot coffee. How about you?” She shivered. “It’s awfully chilly in here today. Or maybe it’s because I’m tired.”

“I’ll grab some tea before I get started.”

The hall was silent, and the foyer was empty. Mail was stacked neatly on the foyer table alongside a vase of fresh flowers. Emma made another mental note to clean off the table in her own entryway. She paused for a moment to enjoy the scent of the flowers as she and Liz went by on their way to the kitchen.

Molly was in the kitchen, vigorously wiping down the counter with a sponge. She was putting some real elbow grease into it, as Emma’s grandmother would have said. She nodded at Emma and Liz. “Good afternoon to you.”

Emma grabbed a mug, filled it with water and put it in the microwave.

Molly put down her sponge and leaned closer to the kitchen window. She pointed outside. “I think I see a robin. Sure sign that spring is around the corner.”

“That would be great. I’ve had enough of winter.” Emma joined Molly at the window and looked out. She didn’t notice any birds, but she did spy the man they’d seen with Mariel the other night, picking his way across the rutted and frozen field. The wind blew his dark hair around his face, and he held the collar of his coat closed with one hand.

“Who is that?” Emma pointed toward the fellow, trying to sound completely guileless. “He looks familiar, but I can’t place him.”

Molly took the bait. She stood on tiptoe and looked out the window again. “Oh, that’s Dr. Sampson. He’s been treating Mrs. Granger ever since she fell from her horse last year. Apparently the pain still hasn’t gone away. Something with her back.” Molly put a hand to her own back.

“He certainly seems very attentive,” Emma said.

Molly laughed. “Very attentive, indeed.” She turned to face Emma, and the look and the wink she gave her said it all.

? ? ?



EMMA and Liz took their drinks back to the office where Liz was working.

“What do you think she was trying to tell us?” Liz asked, taking a tentative sip of her hot coffee.

Emma snorted. “I’m pretty sure her message was that Dr. Sampson is a lot more than just Mariel Granger’s doctor.”

“It would certainly give her a motive for wanting to be rid of her husband to pave the way for Lover Boy.” Liz blew on her coffee. “Of course, she’s not the only one with a motive. The daughter, Joy, had a good reason to hate her father—her mother is killed, she’s left crippled, and the only person left in her world, her father, rejects her. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her.” Liz wiped away a tear that was dribbling down her cheek. She clenched her fists. “Makes me feel like killing him myself, and I never even knew him.”

“I know. Joy was one of the people whose contact information the police were missing, according to Francis’s sources in the department. Along with Mariel’s, and Jackson’s, of course.”

“Jackson seems to have the least reason for wanting his father dead. He does inherit the business, and now he can run it the way he wants, but I can’t see that moving him to . . . murder. Can you?”

Liz looked at Emma, and Emma shook her head. “No, not really. It’s terribly . . . extreme.”

Emma chewed on a nail. “What about his partner, Tom Roberts?”

“Tom?” Liz tilted her head to the side, considering. “Other than that I think he’s kind of creepy and has a beautiful wife, I don’t see him in the role.” She was quiet for a moment. “I wish there was a way to find out if Mariel left the party before the fireworks started. Maybe she went to meet this Dr. Granger somewhere and that’s why she won’t admit it?”

“It seems awfully risky considering the party was for her husband, and she was the hostess.” Emma had a sudden idea. “What kind of car does she drive?”

“I’ve seen her running around in a red Porsche Boxster. Why?”

“If she planned on leaving the party for some reason—to meet her lover or to get away after she’d murdered her husband—she probably took her own car to the Beau. They had valet parking that night. And I doubt a lot of people pulled up in a Porsche Boxster, especially a red one. Maybe one of the valets will remember when he brought the car back around for her.” Emma stood up. “Do you think you’d have time to run over there after work? Arabella is going to watch Bette for me, and I’ll still have time to stop by to visit Brian.”

Liz’s face broke into a grin. “I wouldn’t dream of letting you go alone. I’ll give Matt a call and see if he can throw some hamburgers on the grill and get the kids started on their homework.”

? ? ?



EMMA worked her way through another section of paintings; glancing at her watch, she realized it was five o’clock. She saved her work, powered off the computer and gathered her things together. She stuck her head into the office. “Will Matt be able to take care of the kids if we go over to the Beau?” Liz looked up, startled. “Five o’clock already?” She turned off her photography lights and began to disassemble them. “Yes, he said it was no problem.”

Emma had always been impressed with Liz and Matt’s marriage. Their mutual give-and-take kept both of them happy and things running smoothly.

“I’ll meet you there.” Emma said after Liz had packed up her gear and they were each heading toward their cars.

Emma kept Liz in her rearview mirror on the drive to the Beau. They pulled into the circular drive in front of the hotel, parking just beyond the entrance, where they wouldn’t be in the way. The driveway was empty and the valet was not in sight. The tall, ornamental grasses in front of the hotel were wheat-colored now, with feathery fronds on top. They swayed back and forth in the chilly winter breeze.

Emma approached Liz’s car. “I don’t see anyone. Maybe we should ask inside?”

She had barely finished speaking when she noticed a young man approaching them. He was wearing black pants, a ruffled white shirt and a short white jacket, and was obviously a hotel employee.

“Can I help you?” he asked when he reached Liz’s car.

“Are you the valet?” Emma asked.

“Yes. Want me to park the cars for you?”

Emma shook her head. “No. We actually wanted to ask you some questions.”

A wary look came over his face, and he smoothed an index finger over his dark mustache. “I suppose that’s okay.”

“Were you here Saturday night for the big party given by the Grangers?”

“Yeah. Me plus Ricky and Steve. I don’t usually work Saturdays. The wife wasn’t happy about it. She likes to go out for a drink and maybe a bite to eat on Saturdays, but it was all men on deck for the party.” He ran a hand across the back of his neck. “I’m Manny, by the way.”


“Are Ricky and Steve here, too?”

“Nah. Weeknights are quiet. I can handle it all by myself.” He looked from Emma to Liz. “What is it you want with them? I can give them a message. If there was some damage to your car or something stolen though, you’ll have to talk to the hotel manager.” He tipped his head toward the entrance to the Beau.

Emma took a deep breath. “We were wondering if any of you remember parking a red Porsche Boxster that night.” Emma looked to Liz for confirmation, and Liz nodded.

The valet whistled. “We don’t get a lot of cars like that. Plenty of expensive ones, mind you, but usually dark-colored, late-model BMWs, Mercedes, Audis. Nothing too sporty, you know what I mean.”

Emma nodded.

“So yeah, the Boxster really stood out. Ricky parked it. He was really jazzed about driving a Porsche even if he didn’t go more than a couple hundred feet in it. He couldn’t stop talking about it.”

Emma smiled at Manny. “That’s very helpful. Now, do you happen to remember when the owner left? Did Ricky bring the car back out?”

Manny nodded his head. “Yeah. There was no way he was going to let anyone else have a chance to drive it.” He looked over toward the entrance to the hotel, as if judging whether or not anyone could hear him. He lowered his voice and gave Emma and Liz a conspiratorial look. “Just between you and me—because I can tell you ladies are cool—Ricky said he gave it a little spin around the block. Handled like a dream, he said.”

“So Ricky was the one who brought the car back to its owner?” Emma asked.

Manny laughed. “You bet. As I said, he wasn’t going to let anyone else drive it.”

“Do you happen to have any idea when the owner left the party?” Emma crossed her fingers behind her back.

“Sure. Ricky was about to punch out when the lady who owned the car came out of the hotel. I’ve never known Ricky to stay even a minute overtime, but he didn’t hesitate. Strolled right up and told her he’d be back in a second with her car.”

“This would have been around . . . ?”

“Nine o’clock. Ricky was due to leave at nine, and Chuck was taking the nine to midnight shift. He works at Tom Mulligan’s garage days, but he likes to pick up a little extra cash when he can, and he doesn’t mind the late hours so Dan—that’s our boss—always schedules him for that shift.”

Emma and Liz looked at each other.

“You’ve been really helpful, Manny. Thanks so much.”

“Hey, whatever I can do to help out a couple of pretty ladies.” He winked at them and strolled, whistling, toward the entrance of the hotel.

Emma and Liz watched him walk away. They remained silent until the revolving door at the entrance to the hotel had swallowed him up.

Emma frowned. “If Manny is telling the truth, Mariel is in the clear. The fireworks didn’t start until nearly ten o’clock, and she had already gone by then.”

“Looks like she had a rendezvous with someone. And I think I can guess who.”

“The good-looking Dr. Sampson,” Emma said.