Deadly Ever After by Eva Gates (smart books to read TXT) 📕

“Dinner’s ready. Keep talking, but do it loudly, and I’ll bring the food out. We’re having lasagna, and it’s a good thing I made enough to freeze for a second meal so I can feed all you unexpected guests.”

My mom leapt to her feet. “I’ll give you a hand.”

“The salad’s made and in the fridge,” Aunt Ellen said. “It only needs to be dressed.”

“According to what Millar learned this morning,” Amos said, “Richardson Lewiston has been attempting to fire Frankland as a client for some time, as his legal actions are getting increasingly erratic, to put it mildly, but he’s not going willingly. He’s suing them for failure to do their fiduciary duty in taking his cases seriously. If he can pay them and pay court costs if he loses, which he usually does, he doesn’t see why they care if his cases are frivolous.”

“Again, why would he kill Rich?” Connor asked.

“Again,” Steph said, “we don’t need to consider motive. Particularly not with someone like Gordon Frankland. No one’s ever claimed he’s not in possession of his faculties, but he’s a mean one. Maybe he killed Mr. Lewiston because Mr. Lewiston laughed at him.”

“That’s possible,” I said. “Did he run into Rich outside Jake’s and they got into an argument?”

“Sounds to me as though if they did argue, this Frankland would have come up with some reason to sue Rich.” Mom put a stack of plates, cutlery, and napkins on the table. “Not get into a brawl.”

“There’s a thought,” I said. “Did he egg Rich into a fight that went beyond what he intended? Maybe Rich took a swing and missed, and … whatever happened happened?”

“Lucy,” Amos said, “find out if Gordon Frankland’s in the frame, as the police say.”

“Me?”

“Lucy?” Mom said. “What’s Lucy got to do with this?”

Aunt Ellen carried out an enormous casserole dish trailing the gorgeous scents of hot spicy meat and melting cheese. “Lucy has a way of getting Sam Watson to talk to her.”

“I do not.”

“For once, I’m going to put my two cents in,” Connor said. “Leave Lucy out of this. You remember what happened last time.” He rubbed at the side of his face. “Although, come to think of it, that happened to me.”

“And then there was the time before that,” Steph said. “Who knows what would have happened had Louise Jane not learned sword fighting skills from her mother.”

“What!” my own mother screeched. “You’re telling me this has happened to Lucy more than once?”

“Nothing ever happens to me, Mom,” I said. “It happens to other people, but somehow I find myself in the middle of it. Against my will.” I accepted a plate piled high from Aunt Ellen and smiled at Connor. “I’m soon to become a respectable southern married lady. My sleuthing days are over.”

“Salad?” Steph asked.

“Thank you.” I took the wooden bowl and added a hearty serving to my already-laden plate.

We were sitting outside on the big, comfortable deck overlooking the beach and the open ocean beyond. A huge round moon hung in the sky over the sea, throwing a line of white light across the water. The night was warm but not overly hot, and the rhythmic sound of the surf steadily pounding against the shore was accompanied by the laughter of people playing at the edge of the water or strolling on the sand.

“Lucy’s right,” Uncle Amos said. “I shouldn’t have made that suggestion. If the police decide to pursue a case against Ricky, and if Ricky hires O’Malley Stanton to represent him, then we, meaning O’Malley Stanton, will start asking questions. Not before.”

“We can speculate,” my mom said. “And I will continue to speculate as to what on earth brought Rich Lewiston, unexpected and unannounced, to Nags Head. How did he even know we’d be at Jake’s restaurant? Evangeline says she hasn’t spoken to him since Saturday evening. When she left the house for the airport on Sunday morning, he was still in bed. Ricky hasn’t spoken to his dad in days. Or so he says.”

“That’s a good question, Mom,” I said. “I bet the answer’s in that letter the police found on Rich. Assuming it was a letter, anyway. Everyone says Rich had a lot of debts. You don’t suppose this could have been a mob hit, do you?”

“No,” Connor said. “If he was in debt to the mob—and we don’t know that—they don’t kill the goose that’s laying the eggs.”

I swallowed a forkful of lasagna. No one makes lasagna like my Aunt Ellen. It was hot and delicious, packed full of ground beef and spicy sausage in a rich tomato sauce layered with creamy white sauce and an abundance of cheese. “Maybe it was more than that. Maybe he was doing work for them off the firm’s books and it wasn’t going well and they decided it was time to end the relationship. Unlikely the mob would sue for failure to do his fiduciary duty, as would Mr. Frankland.” I remembered overhearing Ricky and Evangeline whispering in the hallway at Jake’s. What had they said? When Millar hears about …

Connor chuckled. “Unlikely is right.”

“If Rich was doing work under the table, for organized crime or anyone else,” Amos said, “Millar will find out. Rich’s death means all his cases will be assessed and assigned to other lawyers in the firm. Millar intends to keep a close eye on that process.”

“If underhanded stuff was going on,” Steph said, “it’s likely your friend Ricky was involved in it too, if he worked alongside his father. Did he have reason to want to put a stop to what his dad was up to? Had it gone too far?”

“And now,” Mom said, “we’re back to where we began. Ricky. I’m glad, dear, you took my advice and decided not to marry him.”

I choked on a leaf of Bibb lettuce.

Chapter Thirteen

When I got home that evening, I found Charles waiting for me at the door to the Lighthouse Aerie rather than meeting me downstairs, and I took that for a bad