A Season for Killing Blondes (17 page)

“Was she skimming money from the business?” I asked.

Jenny Marie’s eyebrows shot up. “Have you spoken to Carlo?”

“No, it’s second-hand, no, third-hand information that I heard from Sofia,” I explained. “She heard Anna May tampered with the supplier accounts.”

Jenny Marie nodded. “Anna May started taking money about six months ago. Carrie Ann and I suspected something, but we didn’t learn the details until just before Carrie Ann’s death.” She sighed. “You need to hear the whole story.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she paused to collect her thoughts. “Last year, Anna May started visiting casinos on a regular basis. She developed a gambling problem and accumulated close to fifty thousand dollars in debt. Then, she applied for and maxed out a number of credit cards and sold off all her jewellery. At first, Carrie Ann and I gave her small loans of money, but later we decided that we were enabling her, and we stopped. When that source of money dried up, she started to skim the accounts, and she contacted some of her old boyfriends. You remember them, Gilda?”

“Did she contact all of them?” Anna May must have devoted considerable time and effort to getting all those phone numbers.

“You know how pushy she can be,” Jenny Marie said. “She Googled all their names and emailed them. Five of them gave her money.”

“Who gave her money?” I asked.

Jenny Marie handed me a sheet with a list of names: Ray Centis, Mike Grant, Jamie Douglas, Paul Nardi, and Marco Ventura. “It figures those guys would give her money. They were always in some kind of trouble.”

Jenny Marie shook her head. “These men have all settled down with wives and children. They have respectable jobs and do volunteer coaching for their kids’ teams. They may have been wild in their younger days, but their present lives are very stable ones. They were horrified when Carlo called them into the station for questioning, but they all had alibis for the night of Anna May’s murder. Carlo checked them out, and some of the wives had to learn about their husbands’ involvement with Anna May. I don’t know how much of this is public knowledge, but I am hoping that reputations and marriages won’t be affected by all of this.”

“Don’t worry. I will breathe none of this to anyone. But there are a few leaks at the police station, and word may get out soon.” I hoped that Jenny Marie or Grace would relay that information to Carlo.

Grace shrugged her shoulders. “None of them are being held for the murders. They’ll just have to deal with a bit of unpleasant gossip. Carrie Ann must have suspected a more sinister plot.” She turned to me. “You saw her just before she died. How did she appear to you?”

“She was so mellow that day,” I said. “We talked about travel, careers, and reminisced about our high school days. She was at a crossroads in her life and ready to make a decision of some kind. I wonder if she was planning to base her decision on Jim Nelson’s report.”

Grace leaned forward. “Hmm. Why would you say that?”

“She kept glancing at her watch and murmuring that she needed to get to an office before six o’clock. She didn’t have a portfolio or briefcase with her, so I knew she wasn’t seeing a client. I thought she might be seeing a doctor, but I guess she wanted to get her hands on that report.” I spoke directly to Jenny Marie. “Did you know Jim Nelson was investigating Anna May?”

“Carrie Ann didn’t confide in me at all,” Jenny Marie said. “We had a very busy summer, and Anna May seemed to disappear for days at a time. Carrie Ann and I decided to confront Anna May, but we wanted to wait until later in the fall when we weren’t as frazzled.”

Grace nodded in agreement. “Carrie Ann wanted ammunition before confronting Anna May. I think she might have shared some of this with Melly Grace.”

“Melly Grace came up here and started talking about auditing the books and investigating suppliers and clients,” Jenny Marie said. “She reprimanded Anna May a number of times on her gambling and drinking.” She managed a smile. “You remember that night at the restaurant, Gilda?”

“How could I forget that tongue lashing I received from Melly Grace?” I shuddered as I recalled the events of that memorable evening.

Grace frowned. “Did she think you had anything to do with Carrie Ann’s murder?”

Jenny Marie shook her head. “She resented the fact that a certain detective might be interested in Gilda.”

“I get the picture,” Grace said. “You were moving in on one of Melly Grace’s men from the past. And I think I know which detective we’re talking about. He’s pretty hot!”

“Grace!” Jenny Marie’s eyes widened. “He’s old enough to be your father.”

“Relax, I’m not putting the moves on him. So, Carlo and Melly Grace were once a hot item. How long did that last?” Grace asked.

“That relationship lasted a couple of months,” Jenny Marie said. “But you know Melly Grace. She did love to maintain appearances and still be the object of everyone’s attention and admiration.”

Grace sighed. “It sounds like Melly Grace created quite a stir the day of Carrie Ann’s funeral. I wish I had been there.”

“It’s better you weren’t.” Jenny Marie shook her head. “Anna May spun more and more out of control. You did not have to witness that.” She turned to me. “It all started the day we came to visit you and Sofia. Had I known that she would fly into one of her rages, I would never have suggested it.”

“It was your idea to visit?” All along, I assumed that Anna May planned to visit and pin the murder on me.

Jenny Marie’s eyes filled with tears. “I wanted to spend some time with the last person who saw Carrie Ann alive. I wanted to hear her last words, thoughts—” Her voice trailed off, and she cried softly for several minutes.

Grace hugged her mother and offered her some tissue. “You can’t blame yourself. Anna May is…was a grown woman and responsible for her own actions. She didn’t have to lash out at Gilda and Sofia and murder two other women.”

Jenny Marie blew her nose. “She couldn’t deal with anyone else’s success. As soon as we got into the elevator, she started ranting and raving. And when she saw you and Sofia living so well, she lost it. I don’t think she thought of you as a possible suspect until then.”

On its own, envy is a powerful emotion. Combine it with raging hormones, alcohol and drugs, and it can become toxic. It wasn’t too long ago that I dealt with these same issues, but with a much younger population. I could recall at least two or three meetings per year where I met with Students Services to discuss students with impulse control problems. Autism, Asperger’s, fetal alcohol syndrome, Tourette’s. Each year the list grew longer. I thought back to Anna May’s flushed cheeks and angry tirades. “Did she mix drugs and alcohol?”

“She had a pharmacy in her purse,” Grace said. “Painkillers, antidepressants, sleeping pills, allergy medication. We found empty wine bottles in the trunk of her car and the back of her closet.”

“She hasn’t been the same since our mother died.” Jenny Marie sighed. “Carrie Ann and I should have staged an intervention.”

“Grandma died five years ago,” Grace said. “That’s a long time to be mourning and behaving badly.”

“A lot happened to her in those last five years,” Jenny Marie said. “She had that bad car accident, went through menopause, gained fifty pounds, and started gambling.”

A stubborn, judgmental look appeared on Grace’s face. “You had your share of stuff during that time. I don’t see you drinking, gambling, and begging for money.”

“I am not too proud of the way I have handled my own stuff.” Jenny winced. “Getting older is not always a smooth passage, though I must admit Gilda seems to have found the fountain of youth.”

I felt myself blushing “I’ve been lucky, I guess.”

“It must be awesome to have all that money,” Grace said.

“It has given me more choices. And it has also given my family and friends more opportunities.”

“Gilda has paid off mortgages and major debts for a number of people, some even total strangers,” Jenny Marie explained. “She has changed a lot of lives.”

“That’s the best part of it, seeing people who are struggling under mountains of debt suddenly coming up and breathing normally. I would have paid off all of Anna May’s debts.” Despite our differences, I would have helped Anna May.

“After all that happened, you would still have done that?” Grace asked.

I could empathize with Anna May. Before winning the lottery, I experienced one lean year where I had to count the pennies. “If I knew about all of this a few weeks ago, I would have paid off all her debts, anonymously, of course.”

“But you wouldn’t have helped her. Within a month, she would have gambled everything away again. She needed professional help that none of us could give her.” Jenny Marie’s eyes filled with tears.

“Her back was up against the wall,” I said. “Two things I have learned since I won the lottery: money talks and lack of money screams. Anna May was screaming for help, attention, love. Money doesn’t solve every problem, but life can be made more comfortable, and I am happy to be in a position to help anyone who needs it.”

Grace chuckled “I wouldn’t advertise that, Gilda. You might have a lot of takers and be left with nothing.”

“Not to worry. The money is well-invested, and I sign all my checks. When I decide to give money away, it’s always after careful deliberation.” I wondered about the state of Jenny Marie’s finances. Did she need an infusion of money in her account?

Grace stood. “We should get going. I want to finish going through Anna May’s closet tonight. I won’t have time tomorrow. We have that early appointment tomorrow morning with Ronald Carruthers over at the Bank of Montreal.”

“Ten o’clock is not that early.” Jenny Marie shook her head. “I can’t believe you still sleep in each morning. In my day—”

“You were up with the chickens and walked five miles to school,” Grace said.

We laughed, and my eyes met Grace’s as they left. We were on the same wavelength. I would send off an email tonight, and call Ronald first thing tomorrow morning. He had already helped with several of my other bank transfers.

Chapter 20

Friday, November 4, 2011

Ronald Carruthers called a few minutes after nine. He didn’t share any details of the Three Sisters Decorating account, but listened as I tossed out different amounts of money. I intended to cover any outstanding debts and provide a small cushion of comfort for Jenny Marie. I had learned, the hard way, not to overwhelm friends and family members with extravagant amounts of money. I still cringe when I think of the fifty thousand dollars I gave a young relative who proceeded to spend all of it within three months. And when I refused to give more, her entire family stopped speaking to me.

Ronald and I decided on a transfer of three hundred thousand dollars. This would be enough to pay off all accounts payable and Anna May’s gambling debts, and leave Jenny Marie with a severance. She would need the extra money after she closed down the business. Ronald assured me that he would be discreet and not mention my name to Jenny Marie. After last night’s conversation, she might suspect my involvement, but knowing Ronald, he would offer a complex but convincing explanation about “found” money.

As soon as I hung up the phone, Belinda buzzed to let me know my first client of the morning had arrived. After the second appointment, I glanced at my schedule and realized I didn’t have any appointments scheduled until two o’clock. I could phone and ask Adele out to lunch. She liked spur-of-the-moment invitations. We could pop over to Culpeppers.

Before I could punch in Adele’s number, Belinda buzzed and informed me that Grace Robinson had arrived. The name sounded vaguely familiar. As I tried to recall where I had met her, Jenny Marie’s Grace entered the room. I rose to greet her, and before I could speak, she hugged me close. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” When she let go of me, I saw tears in her eyes.

We both sat down, and she continued to gaze at me adoringly. For several moments, neither of us said anything. “Does your mother know?”

“Ronald rambled on and on about special circumstances and insurance on some accounts. He even brought up one of Grandpa’s investments from way back. I didn’t understand a word he said, and Mom frowned and shook her head several times. She thinks Grandma’s spirit had something to do with it.”

I smiled as I thought of the kind, generous woman who had worked tirelessly on fund raisers and taken in foster children and other strays. “Good, let her think that.”

“But I know, and someday I’ll tell Mom.”

“Nothing wrong with believing in angels,” I said.

“I’m glad we have a chance to chat without Mom around,” Grace said. “If we don’t do something, the murderer will go scot free. The police don’t have any leads, and they’re willing to accept all those alibis at face value.”

Last night, I had gone through all the possibilities but still had trouble coming up with a suspect. One large piece of the puzzle still troubled me. “I’ve considered all possible suspects but keep coming up with the same question: Why would anyone help Anna May kill three women? She didn’t have money to give them. What could they possibly gain by going along with her?”

Grace shrugged. “Knowing Anna May, she manipulated or bullied some man into helping her. And when he had enough, he killed her.”

While I didn’t like the bad boys, I didn’t think any of them capable of murder. “Do you think one of Anna May’s ex-boyfriends killed her?”

“Maybe or maybe someone we’ve been overlooking.” She leaned closer. “I’m hoping you and I can work together to catch the killer.”

Nothing would give me more satisfaction than catching the person who helped Anna May frame me for those deaths. While I hadn’t shared that concern with anyone, it still rankled that someone would go to such lengths to set me up. While Anna May was the instigator, the accomplice did agree to cooperate. “I don’t see how I can help. And I don’t know what you can do. Aren’t you leaving for Toronto soon?”

“I’m leaving after lunch today.” She took out a black notebook. “This is Anna May’s diary. I found it last night while cleaning out her closet and chest of drawers. I’m going to read through it and try to make some sense of the last two months of entries.”