Murder Checks Inn - Tim Myers [13]
The beauty shop was filled with the smell of chemicals as Alex and the sheriff walked in. Irene said, “I’ll be with you boys in a minute.”
Armstrong coughed into his handkerchief as he said, “We’ll just wait outside, if it’s all the same to you.”
Irene smiled. “You always were the sensitive type, Ducky.”
As the two men walked back out into the fresh air, Alex said, “So what’s this clue you want me to see?”
“I’m not sure if it’s one or not; that’s the whole point. But you know Irene, when she gets something in her head, there’s no stopping her. Why don’t we wait for her?”
Alex asked, “Do you have any real leads, Sheriff? Any suspects at all?”
“You know me, Alex, I suspect everybody at first. There’s the entire Trask family to start with: Ashley, Steven, and momma Cynthia. Any one of them could have done it. Then there’s this mysterious daughter nobody knew about until yesterday. To be honest with you, at the moment, I’m leaning toward her, myself.”
Alex couldn’t imagine sweet Julie bashing Jase’s head in, not after she’d cried in his arms at the top of the lighthouse. But Alex was the first to admit that he wasn’t the most objective person when it came to judging the women around him.
He asked, “Is there any reason in particular you think she might have done it?”
“That letter from Jase bothers me, Alex. Where’s all this proof that she’s really his daughter? I keep asking Sandra, but she won’t show me one shred of evidence that’s convincing. Says she doesn’t want to show her hand before she has to, and I can’t make her, not at this point, anyway.”
“Do you have a theory why Julie would want to get her hands on the will?”
Armstrong hitched at his belt as he said, “What if there was something in there that contradicted what she’s been claiming? If she knew about it, she’d have every reason in the world to want that particular document to disappear.”
“But she just found out she was Trask’s daughter a few weeks ago,” Alex protested.
“So she says,” Armstrong said as the beauty shop door opened.
Irene said, “Come on in, boys, I’ve got a few minutes fore I have to get back to work.”
The beautician led them past the salon part of the building back to her office. Irene had the oddest assortment of paperweights on her desk he’d ever seen, from a pipe tipped with red paint to a blue-steel revolver to a thin wire garrote.
Irene smiled broadly at Alex, though her eyes were reddened. The chemicals she worked with must play havoc with her senses. “Some collection, isn’t it? Don’t worry, none of these were used for actual murders.” She added with a flourish, “at least not that I know about.”
Alex asked, “What’s this clue I’m supposed to look at?”
Irene went to her filing cabinet, opened the bottom drawer and pulled out the torn edge of an envelope safely ensconced in a clear plastic baggie. The jagged tear showed just the tip of an Old English letter.
It was either a T or a J, as far as Alex could tell.
“What’s the significance of it, Irene?” Alex asked as he flipped over the baggie holding the scrap of paper to examine the pristine back side.
“Well, it’s bound to mean something. I found it in the right cuff of Jase’s pants. I’m thinking it might have happened during a struggle in his office.”
Armstrong asked, “You ever seen anything like that before, Alex?” as he tapped the bag.
“Not that I can recall. Do you even know which letter it stands for?”
Irene blew her nose, then said, “The boys in Raleigh are running a check for me; I faxed them a photocopy. Alex, I searched that office floor on my hands and knees, but I couldn’t find a single matching piece of the envelope it came from. My best guess is the killer may have taken it with him.”
Alex asked the sheriff, “So you’re thinking it’s a T and it stands for Trask?”
He shook his head. “Nope, I’m leaning toward it being the tip of a J, and that would be Julie Hart. I’ve seen women use their first-initial monogram before, Alex, and she had motive