Tracy Kiely: Murder Most Persuasive

“When was this, exactly?”

“Just after the fireworks ended. I told him and then I went to bed.”

“And what was the reason for the breakup, if you don’t mind me asking?” Joe asked.

Reggie shifted slightly. “His drinking, for one. It was getting completely out of hand.”

Joe nodded. “I see. And what was his reaction to your ending things?”

Reggie paused. “Well, he was upset, naturally. He begged me to reconsider. I told him to go to bed and sleep it off. I said that we could talk more in the morning, but by that time, he was gone. I assumed that his pride was hurt and he’d left for his house. When I didn’t hear from him, I figured that he was waiting for me to call. Of course, I didn’t.”

“And you didn’t wonder why you never heard from him?” Joe asked, with a dubious expression.

“Well, no. I just thought he was pouting, but within a week or so afterward, we discovered that Michael had embezzled almost a million dollars from Daddy. We all assumed that he had hightailed it somewhere. So no, I never wondered why I never heard from him,” said Reggie.

“Yes, I have the copy of the report your father submitted regarding the embezzlement,” said Joe. “Did anyone see Mr. Barrow after that Fourth of July party?”

We all shook our heads.

“Don’t forget, Joe,” said Frances, “you were at that party, too. With Ann,” she added unnecessarily. Beside me, Ann flushed crimson. Joe cleared his throat. Sergeant Beal shot Joe a searching look.

“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Phillips,” Joe said. Turning to Ann, he said, “An … excuse me, Miss Reynolds. It is still Miss Reynolds?” he asked. Ann gave a quick nod. Joe continued, “Did you have any contact with Mr. Barrow that might be relevant?”

Ann didn’t answer right away. I knew she was wondering if she should reveal Michael’s attempted attack on her. After a moment, she said, “He was extremely drunk. But I don’t really have any information other than that.”

Joe regarded her silently. At one time, Joe and Ann were so in tune with each other they could practically read each other’s minds. I found myself fervently hoping that Joe had lost that ability. After a brief pause, he said, “I see.” Clearing his throat, he continued, “Did any of you have any contact with Mr. Barrow at the party? Or notice anything out of the ordinary?”

“I had a couple of drinks with him,” Scott said cautiously.

Joe nodded at him encouragingly. “And…?”

Scott looked down at the carpet before answering. “And nothing, really. We had a few beers on the back patio and then … I went to bed. Michael was still outside when I went inside.”

“Any idea what time this conversation was?” Joe asked.

Scott shot Joe an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me? It was eight years ago!”

“Fair enough. Was it a friendly conversation?”

Beside her husband, Frances stiffened. Scott paused. “Friendly enough, I guess. I don’t remember the details.” Frances shifted in her chair and glanced quickly at Scott and then at her lap. Was I missing something?

“You were staying at the house, I take it?” Joe said.

“Yes,” said Scott. “We all were.”

“Including Michael?”

Scott nodded. “Yes. Although I remember he wasn’t there in the morning. His car was gone. I just assumed that he’d already left.”

“When did you leave?”

“The next morning, the fifth. We all did,” Scott said, looking around the room. “Construction was to start on the pool and…” Scott abruptly stopped talking as he realized what must have happened.

Joe looked at the rest of us. “Did any of you see Mr. Barrow the next morning?”

We all shook our heads. “As I told you,” said Reggie, “no one saw Michael after that party.”

Joe leaned back in his chair, the barest of smiles on his lips. “Although my mother always told me never to argue with a lady, I think I’m going to have to disagree with you there.”

The doorbell rang, breaking the sudden tension Joe’s words caused. Ann jumped from her chair and hurried to open the door. Scarlett abandoned her post at Joe’s feet and ran after her. It was Miles and Laura Carswell. A former marine, Miles had stayed in excellent shape, so much so that those who met him thought him a good decade younger than his actual age of seventy-three. To me, he looked like Cary Grant in his later years: round pleasant face, snow-white hair, and black-framed glasses. Laura was an elegant woman with brown eyes and short brown hair that was flecked with gray (“You wouldn’t believe how much it costs to realistically ‘fleck’ one’s hair,” she once told me). Her clear complexion and high cheekbones gave her a more youthful appearance than her actual age of sixty-nine.

Scarlett’s yips of excitement increased upon seeing Miles. He bent to pet her while Laura focused on Ann. Seeing her flushed face, Laura stepped into the foyer, her brown eyes filled with concern. “Ann!” she said. “Are you all right?”

A noise from the living room alerted her to our presence. Turning our way, her eyes landed on Joe. Her mouth pulling into a faint frown, she said, “Good Lord. Is that Joe?”

Eyeing Laura with a cool, appraising glance, Joe merely said, “Mrs. Carswell. We meet again.”

Miles stepped forward. “Hello, Joe. I’m not sure if you remember me…”

“Mr. Carswell,” Joe replied with a genuine smile; seeing it was a brief reminder of his former self. Joe stood up and extended his hand. “Of course, I remember you. It’s good to see you, though I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. How have you been?”

“Pretty well, pretty well,” Miles replied. Miles had always gotten along great with Joe and, in fact, had been his strongest champion to Uncle Marty. But as close as Miles and Uncle Marty were, Miles still couldn’t convince him of Joe’s merits. Eight years ago, Joe was just starting out on the force. He was, in Uncle Marty’s words, “nothing but a blue-collar cop,” and as such he viewed the match as “degrading” for both him and his daughter. It didn’t help that Laura agreed with Uncle Marty. Laura adored Ann—just as she had adored her mother. She wanted the best for Ann and, unfortunately, that didn’t include a marriage to Joe at age twenty-two. Ann found herself opposed by both her father and the woman she looked to almost as a mother.

“We were told that Michael’s body was found on the St. Michaels property. Don’t tell me that you are on this case,” said Miles.

Joe nodded. “I am, sir. I’m a detective, now.”

Miles smiled. “Congratulations. I always knew you’d go places.”

Joe nodded briefly, the compliment seeming to remind him of those who didn’t have such confidence. Ann stared at the floor, clearly uncomfortable.

Joe deflected the awkwardness of the situation by introducing his associate. “This is Sergeant Beal,” he said. “Sergeant Beal, this is Mr. and Mrs. Carswell.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she said.

“And you as well,” Miles said with a smile. “My, but sergeants have definitely gotten prettier since my day.” Sergeant Beal smiled coyly at this and threw a challenging glance at Joe. Yup, I thought, she likes him. And if I had to interpret that glance she gave him, I would say she wonders why he doesn’t like her.

“Well, we might as well sit down,” Miles said. Joe moved aside so he and Laura could find a seat. Ann came and sat next to me. Her hands were nervously twitching. I reached over and grabbed one, giving it a reassuring squeeze.