The Inheritance Page 12

  Rob hoped to have his own family one day and do a lot better for them. Every time he saw Maryann Waller his heart ached. She sparkled like a star. But she was too good for him. He really had nothing much to offer her. If she married, it would likely be to some rich city guy, a fellow who drove an expensive car and wore a designer suit to work each day. She’d be gone soon anyway. He shouldn’t even be thinking about her. Yet whenever he saw Maryann, all he could think about was how much he wanted to be with her.

  He got out of his pick-up truck intending to walk over to the bank to deposit some checks when he saw Maryann sauntering toward the post office. She wore that floral sundress he’d seen her in before, the one that hugged her trim figure and made her look like a flower in full bloom. The sunlight brought the gold out in her hair.

  “Hey, beautiful lady, how are you doing today?”

  “I’m fine.” She gave him a big smile, flashing pearly white teeth.

  “Everything okay at the Pritchard house?”

  “Good for now. Are you headed for the post office?”

  “No, I’m going to the bank, but I’ll walk you over.”

  They strolled together side by side as Rob tried to think of something to say to her. He wasn’t usually at a loss for words.

  “You know there’s a Labor Day picnic sponsored by the town. It’s a tradition around here. People come in from all around. It’s a lot of fun. Think you’d like to go with me?”

  “Would it be a problem if Jen and Aaron came too?”

  He liked Mrs. Stoddard and her son. So he agreed and told Maryann he’d get back to her about the time and other information. “It’s almost lunchtime,” he said. “Why don’t we eat together?”

  She hesitated for a moment. “I guess we could. I have some letters to mail and then I’m free.”

  “Diner all right?”

  Maryann wrinkled her nose. “I kind of like The Red Pepper better.”

  “Red Pepper it is.”

  “Gosh, you’re a hard man to deal with.”

  “You better believe it.”

  They laughed together. He loved the way she laughed. Maybe he should tell her what was on his mind and see what her response might be. Maybe he’d take a gamble and roll the dice.

  Maryann slammed into the house. She found Jen in the living room. Jen sat on a chair reading the novel she’d bought at the local bookstore. She looked up.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Rob Coleman.”

  “Oh.” Jen closed her book, uncurled herself from her chair, and stood up. “Was he rude?”

  “No.” Maryann frowned.

  “Nasty in some way?”

  “No.”

  “What did he do that you consider so upsetting?”

  “He wants me to stay in Bloomingvale. Now how can I possibly do that?” She plopped down on a sofa.

  “Do you want to stay here? Because you know you’re more than welcome.”

  Maryann burst into tears. “That’s not the point. Don’t you see? He’s got me crazy.”

  Jen sat down beside her and put her arms around her. “He can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. He’s entitled to an opinion. It’s obvious to me that he cares about you, and I’m not talking merely friendship here. And you’re just as attracted to him, aren’t you?”

  Maryann nodded, feeling miserable. “He asked me to go with him to the Labor Day picnic the town sponsors. It appears to be a big community event.”

  “Are you going?”

  “I said yes, but I told him only if you and Aaron go with us.”

  Jen let out a deep sigh. “I wish you hadn’t done that. I think it’s best if the two of you are alone. You need to sort things out, don’t you?”

  “No, we don’t. I’m going back to New York after the holiday. I’ve finally got an excellent interview set up and I’ll get that job or one equally as good. Rob Coleman has no place in my life.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  Maryann raised her chin. “Absolutely and positively certain.”

  “Then, my dear, why are tears running down your face?”

  She had no answer for Jen’s question.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Burt Russell led Frank Kraulley into Grant’s office. It appeared as if the two men had been involved in a physical altercation. They were both breathing hard and Burt had cuffed Kraulley.

  “Am I being arrested for something? I didn’t do nothing. You hick town cops are certifiable.”

  “Burt, please remove the handcuffs from Mr. Kraulley. Have a seat, sir.”

  “No thanks. I got nothing to say to you.”

  “That’s all right because I have a few things to say and I think you better listen.”

  Kraulley’s face had been bruised and his nose was bloody.

  “Burt, how did Mr. Kraulley get battered?”

  “When I asked him to come with me, he tried to punch me. Chief, I had to defend myself.”

  Grant gave a quick nod, pulled some tissues from a box on his desk and handed them to Kraulley. He surveyed the man who looked to Grant like a small time thug. He wondered how Sara Morrow had ever hooked up with him. She, who’d been such a social snob in her salad days.

  “I have a few questions for you, Mr. Kraulley. We’re not arresting you for anything. This is informal. However, if you want to have a lawyer present, that’s you’re right. Do you understand?”

  “Sure, no lawyer. Not now anyway.”

  “Okay. Are you harassing Jennifer Stoddard?”

  “What? Me? No. I don’t know anything about that.” Kraulley’s eyes opened wide.

  “Sara Morrow’s angry at her daughter. She tell you about that?”

  Kraulley slumped down in his chair. “Yeah, sure. I mean she’s got every right. Her daughter gets the inheritance that should be hers. Who wouldn’t be angry?”

  Grant leaned over setting his sharp metallic gaze on Kraulley. “She’d want revenge. You being her good friend, you’d help her get even with her daughter, wouldn’t you?”

  Kraulley rose to his feet. “Me? No way. I got nothing to do with it.”

  “So you wouldn’t threaten Mrs. Stoddard? I got that right? Would you take a lie detector test to prove it?”

  Kraulley’s eyes settled on the floor. “I don’t have to do that. I didn’t do anything wrong. Anyway, Sara’s going to fight her daughter for the old lady’s property all legal and proper in court. She’s got a lawyer picked out already, a good one.”

  “So you wouldn’t write threatening notes for instance or slash Mrs. Stoddard’s tires?”

  Kraulley kept his head down. “I told you. I didn’t do anything to her. I don’t need to do nothing because Sara’s taking it to court. Now unless you’re arresting me, I want to leave here.”

  “You have outstanding ticket violations.”

  “In Chicago, not here.”

  “You so much as spit on the sidewalk in this jurisdiction and you go to jail.” Grant felt a hard line was needed in dealing with Kraulley to make a point.

  “Seems I’m the one being harassed. So either read me my rights and I’ll lawyer up, or let me go. Like the old saying goes, a fish can only be caught if it opens its mouth.”

  Grant looked at Burt and gave him a nod. The policeman escorted Kraulley from his office.

  Grant went out to the squad room later and found Burt writing up a report. “So what did you think of Kraulley?”

  Burt looked up at him, thick brown hair unruly as ever. “Can’t say if he was lying or not. Did you mean it when you asked if he’d take a lie detector test?”

  Grant shrugged. “Nope. We both know the results are inadmissible in court. So it would be a waste of time and money. A lot of these guys are sociopaths. We likely wouldn’t even get an accurate reading. Someone like Kraulley probably lies all the time. I just wanted to see his reaction.”

  Grant felt frustrated. He seemed to be getting nowhere in finding out who attempted to harm Jennifer Stodd
ard. If it was a matter of revenge, Sara Morrow had a good motive. But would she hurt her own daughter? Maybe. Grant felt the woman had a ruthless nature. And the boyfriend likely had few scruples.

  Still, Grant realized he needed solid proof not mere supposition. There had been a small blood sample on the broken cellar window. He’d be able to compare DNA. He went back to his office and collected the discarded tissue with blood from Kraulley’s nose. Hopefully, it would be enough to use for a comparison.

  Jen wondered why Rob Coleman had come by the house. Was he looking for Maryann? If so, she doubted that her friend would be pleased. Regardless, she greeted him with a warm smile.

  “Hot out there today.” He swiped at his forehead with a blue bandana.

  “Come in and I’ll get you a cold drink.”

  Aaron came running to see who had arrived at the door. “Hi, Rob. My friends are coming over later today.”

  “That’s great. Have fun.” Rob lifted Aaron in the air and her son laughed, pleased by the attention. “How’s the air up there?”

  “I like it better on the ground.”

  Rob put Aaron back on his feet.

  Jen waited for Rob to explain the reason for his visit since she hadn’t been expecting him.

  “I hate being the bearer of bad tidings, but I found something you need to know about.”

  Jen felt a sense of alarm sweep over her. “What is it?”

  “Well, it’s something we can fix.”

  “Go on.”

  “There’s termites and also carpenter ants.”

  “Oh, no!”

  “They’re feasting on your wooden beams. Need to do some repair work there. The good news is this is very recent and so there’s no real damage as yet.”

  Aaron wrinkled his nose. “Can I see them?”

  “Sure. We’ll go down to the cellar.”

  “Wow, are they really eating our wood? Is there other stuff down there too?” Aaron’s eyes were large with interest.

  “Well, I did find some spiders and then there were a couple of snakes.” He saw Jen’s expression. “Just some small green garden snakes that managed to crawl in. They’re not dangerous.”

  “Snakes,” Aaron repeated. “Cool.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion,” she said in a dry voice.

  “I can get an exterminator in whenever you like.” Rob’s efforts to reassure her weren’t helping.

  She nibbled her lower lip. “We’d have to get out for a few days. When Maryann leaves for New York, I’ll arrange for Aaron and myself to stay over at the inn. It shouldn’t be crowded after Labor Day.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll set things up so we can fix the problem. One or two of the wooden support beams were weakened by the insects so I’ll take care of that after the extermination.” He flashed her an encouraging smile. “It’ll be fine.”

  She sighed.

  “It seems like there’s always something that needs to be repaired in this place.”

  Rob nodded his agreement. “That’s the nature of old houses. They’re money pits. But this place is worthy of the restoration. It’s got fine lines, excellent architecture.”

  “I don’t disagree. Speaking of which, I need suggestions as to who can refinish some of the old furniture.”

  “Not a problem. I know some good people.”

  At that moment, Maryann ambled down the staircase. When she saw Rob, her friend stopped abruptly, almost tripping.

  “Rob came by to tell us we have termites.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I think we all are.”

  “Not me,” Aaron said. “I want to go see them.”

  “If you must,” she said.

  “I’ll show them to Bobby later. He’ll think they’re cool too.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The Forrest Foundation was located at the edge of town in a large white clapboard building. Grant climbed the stairs and entered the house with agility. Seated at a desk near the door, a receptionist answered a ringing phone. She didn’t notice him at first.

  Grant didn’t mind. The fact that she happened to be busy gave him an opportunity to look around. The receiving area had tasteful furnishings, the room decorated in shades of beige. Soft music piped in. Large poster photos of appealing children covered the walls. The children, boys and girls of many nationalities and races, were malnourished and clothed in rags. Strong emotional appeal.

  The woman at the desk finished her phone call and turned to him. “Can I help you?” Her manner was polite and perfunctory. She was middle-aged, chubby, frizzy-haired and wore bifocals. The sign on her desk read: Mrs. Patricia Kraft.

  “I’m Grant Coleman, Police Chief in Bloomingvale. I’m looking for Mr. Forrest.”

  “Mr. Forrest is busy at the moment. Would you like to make an appointment to see him?” Her tone registered much cooler now that she knew he wasn’t a prospective donor.

  “I think Mr. Forrest will see me,” Grant’s tone matched hers. “I’m here in regard to the donations Mrs. Pritchard made to his charity.”

  Patricia Kraft adjusted her eyeglasses and picked up her phone. She buzzed Forrest, explaining who was waiting to see him. Forrest strode to the receiving area from behind a closed door in record time.

  He offered a handshake. “Chief, how nice to meet you. Mayor Longworth speaks highly of you. I always trust her judgment regarding people.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Patricia said you’ve come to make inquiries? Something about Mrs. Pritchard’s donations to the Forrest Foundation?”

  Grant studied the man. Forrest reminded him of a white rat. His ruddy face, white hair, short posture and large midsection made the man appear harmless. But Grant’s gut instinct told him Forrest was not the genial older gentleman he appeared to be.

  “I think we ought to talk in your office.”

  “Certainly.” Forrest turned to the woman at the desk. “Patricia, hold my calls for now please.” With that, he led Grant through to the office area.

  Grant gave a quick look around. The upstairs looked as if it were designated as living quarters. Not a bad setup. Forrest’s office appeared meant to impress. Bookcases lined the walls. The books had leather bindings. The desk had a gold letter opener sitting on it. A far cry from his own Spartan office.

  “Now you were saying?”

  “You visited Jennifer Stoddard when she moved into her grandmother’s house.”

  Forrest viewed him askance out of the corner of his eye. “That’s right I did.”

  “You requested she continue giving funds to your charity as her grandmother did.”

  “Again, that’s correct. I find that the families of my contributors generally like to continue to make donations in honor of their relatives who have passed on. I assumed Mrs. Stoddard would want to follow her grandmother in that tradition. But of course she is perfectly free to do as she chooses.”

  Grant narrowed his eyes. “You gave her a hard sell. I think she told you that she doesn’t have the money right now to make any large donations.”

  Forrest swiveled in his chair. “Of course, I understand that completely.”

  Grant leaned over the desk. “Do you? Because you see someone’s been harassing Mrs. Stoddard, trying to frighten her. I want to make sure you had nothing to do with it.”

  Forrest got to his feet. “I can assure you that I am a reputable man and I run a reputable charity. I do not harass anyone.” His face had turned a mottled purple color.

  “Glad to hear it. Because you know there are a lot of crooked scams out there that claim to be legit charities. Tell me, Mr. Forrest, how much of the money that you collect goes to feeding and clothing those orphans? What percentage ends up in your pocket?”

  “Naturally there are administrative fees. That’s true of all charities.” Forrest gave a nervous glance at his watch. “Chief, you must excuse me now. I’m expecting someone. Perhaps another time? That is, if you have more questions. Please give Mrs. Stoddard m
y regards.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that.”

  “Her grandmother was a wonderful woman. Kind, generous to a fault.” The smile he wore was pasted on, probably as phony as Grant suspected his charity to be.

  Grant turned to Mrs. Kraft back in the entry area. “Could you hand me some of the brochures for The Forrest Foundation?”

  “How many pieces of the literature would you like?” She gave him a lopsided smile, looking a tad nervous.

  “Just one of each.”

  “Would you perhaps be thinking of making a contribution to our cause?”

  Now it was his turn to smile. He took the leaflets she handed him and left without answering her question.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Jen frowned as she went over her finances. The house really was a money pit. So much still should be done. Rob’s verdict on the roof had been discouraging. He’d patched it for the time being, but a new roof would be needed eventually, maybe even before the snowstorms of winter hit the heartland. The money allocated for repair and maintenance of the house had seemed ample initially but the funds were dwindling. She would talk to Mr. Donne. She didn’t look forward to it though. Financial matters had never been her forte.

  “You’re looking worried. Something wrong?”

  Jen glanced up at Maryann. “It’s my financial situation. I’m having some problems sorting things out.”

  Maryann pulled up a chair beside her at the desk in the study. “What sort of problems? Maybe I can help.”

  “That would be wonderful. I would appreciate your expertise.”

  “Well, I admit I wasn’t all that great in accounting which was why I got my M.B.A. in business administration. But I know a little.”

  “Would you be available today if I can get Mr. Donne to see us?”

  “Of course. I’ll help in any way I can.”

  “Then there’s no time like the present.” Jen found the lawyer’s card in the desk drawer and dialed his number. She felt edgy but wasn’t certain why.