“But she looks like Little Red Riding Hood’s grandmother.”
I laughed. “And she could take you down faster than the Big Bad Wolf.”
“I’ll remember that next time I ask to use the printer.” John grinned, then his expression grew serious. “Kathleen, how’s Marcus doing, really? It’s ridiculous that the police are even looking at him as a suspect. He hadn’t talked to Dani—or any of us, for that matter—in years. It was just that we met that morning the two of you walked into the restaurant. And then he kills her? C’mon!”
“It doesn’t hang together because Marcus didn’t do it.” I hesitated. “John, was there anyone who had a problem with Dani, maybe a conflict over a project or some kind of environmental issue?”
He slumped back in the chair. “You always get a few crackpots who call us tree-hugging hippies or crunchy granola space cadets but that’s all it’s ever been—words and a couple of times protestors with signs.”
“What about with this project?”
He made a face. “When the different groups banded together to stop the Long Lake project Ernie Kingsley requested a meeting. He offered to make a large donation to every group if we’d all drop our opposition to the project.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I take it that didn’t go well?”
“No, it didn’t. But my point is that Kingsley is a businessman. He solves problems by throwing money at them. Not by throwing a body over an embankment.”
“What about her family? Could someone have gone after Dani as a way to get to her brother or her grandmother, maybe?”
John brushed crumbs off the front of his shirt. “I don’t know that much about her family’s business dealings. They own three or four fancy hotels. They’re the largest manufacturer of sails in the world and they also run several wind-turbine farms. Not a whole lot of controversy or reasons to kill anyone there. She was very close to her brother and her grandmother. They were really proud of her work. And if there was any problem I think Dani would have said something to me. We were pretty close.” He held up a hand. “As friend, nothing romantic.”
I remembered Dani’s bio in McAllister Enterprises’ annual report. If her family was so proud of her work why wasn’t it mentioned? “What about since you all got here?” I asked. “Did you have any run-ins with anyone about the resort plans?” I rubbed the space between my eyebrows with one finger where a headache was forming. “I’m sorry for putting you on the spot with all these questions.”
John leaned forward, putting both hands flat on the table. “Don’t apologize. You’re worried about Marcus. I get that.” He hesitated, opened his mouth and closed it again.
“What is it?” I said.
“I don’t want to offend you or give you the wrong impression.”
“But.”
“Is it possible someone from around here killed Dani?” Before I could say anything both of his hands came up off the table. “I don’t mean on purpose, Kathleen. I mean by accident. He—or she, I guess—came across Dani working out there, they got into some kind of an argument and things just got out of hand. This kind of project can stir up strong feelings on both sides. I’ve seen it before.”
I couldn’t tell him what Hope had shared, that Dani had been hit by a car and her body moved. Even though there were strong feelings on both side of the development proposal I just couldn’t believe that anyone in Mayville Heights felt so strongly that they’d run Dani down over it and then dump her body. I knew these people. I knew what they were capable of and it wasn’t murder. Not over this.
But I didn’t say any of that. All I did was nod and say, “You’re right. It has stirred up a lot of complicated feelings.”
“I need to get to work,” John said, pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. “Look, from what I’ve seen the police here seem to know what they’re doing. Let them do their job, Kathleen. It’ll work out.”
He headed for the stairs and I put the dishes in the sink. I hadn’t learned that much about Dani except that based on what John had said, the conclusions I’d made after my online research seemed to be wrong.
* * *
I took my lunch outside to the gazebo and called Hope. I told her what I’d discovered. It didn’t take very long.
“I didn’t find out much about Ernie Kingsley, either,” she said. “Nothing that isn’t part of the public record. His grandfather started Kingsley-Pearson. They made their money with car dealerships. They own fifty-six of them. But other than saying Ernie is a shrewd businessman, no one will say anything else about him.” I heard her sigh. “At least not to me.”
The breeze off the water blew my hair against my face. I brushed it back. “How about you see if you can find anything more about the McAllisters’ and let me see if I can learn more about Ernie Kingsley?” I said.
“Why not?” Hope said. “You couldn’t do any worse than I have so far.” She said good-bye with a promise she’d call me with whatever she found out about Dani’s family.
So how could I find out more about the developer? Everett? I knew he liked Marcus and if I went to Rebecca she’d nudge her husband to help. Then I remembered Rebecca telling me that Everett was going to Japan on business for a few days. Who else could I talk to? Lita? I didn’t really want to put her on the spot.
I broke my brownie in half and ate it, hoping somehow inspiration would find me. And then it drove into the parking lot in the form of a delivery truck bringing two boxes of easy readers for our Reading Buddies program.
“Simon Janes,” I said aloud. There were no cats to murp their agreement to my idea and the robin in a nearby tree didn’t seem very interested.
Simon Janes was the father of Mia Janes. She’d come to the library as a student intern and worked out so well that I’d hired her part-time. I knew Simon’s company was involved somehow in commercial real estate. Maybe he could tell me something, anything, about Ernie Kingsley. It was worth a try.
I finished my lunch and went back inside. “I just have to make a call and then I’ll be down to take over,” I said to Susan, who was at the desk sorting books.
“Take your time,” she said. It looked like she’d secured her updo today with a couple of demitasse spoons. I’d learned a long time ago that there was always going to be a sense of whimsy to Susan’s fashion choices.
Upstairs in my office I looked up the number I wanted and after a moment of hesitation punched it into the phone. The phone at the other end rang twice before it was answered. “Good afternoon, Simon Janes’s office,” a polished, professional voice with just a hint of huskiness said.
“Hello,” I said. “It’s Kathleen Paulson from the library calling.”
The professional voice got a little warmer. “Hello, Ms. Paulson. Mia works for you. She’s told me how good you’ve been to her. Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine,” I said. “Mia has been a wonderful asset to the library. She’s a hard worker and everyone from the preschoolers at story time to the seniors book club adores her.”
“I’m not at all surprised,” the woman on the other end of the phone said. “So how may I help you?”
“I was hoping to get about ten minutes of Mr. Janes’s time,” I said. “It doesn’t have anything to do with Mia.”
I’d met Simon Janes the previous winter at a fundraiser for the library’s Reading Buddies program. He was outspoken to the point of being rude, in my opinion—very different from his quiet, soft-spoken daughter. However, Mia had clearly inherited some of her father’s confidence. When the expansion of the Reading Buddies program had been put at risk because we hadn’t raised enough money, Mia—according to her father—had called him on his brash behavior and pointed out that he could easily afford to fund the program, which he did, with a check from his personal account.