Page 48 of One Last Goodbye

“We reallymustdo something about your language,” I scold. “But we’ll save that for tomorrow. Off to bed now.”

She enters the room, and I sigh with a mixture of exasperation and exhaustion. Then, as giddily as a teenager myself, I rush back down the stairs to learn what happened.

Moreau is talking with Catherine when I return. I overhear her say, “I’ll be available to answer more questions over the phone later, but there’s a storm moving in, and I don’t want to miss my flight.”

Catherine nods, and Moreau turns to leave. I reach the door just as she’s closing it behind her and head outside.

“Did she do it?” I ask, hurrying to keep up with the petite but fast-moving Moreau. “Is she the killer?”

Moreau sighs, clearly exasperated at having to answer more questions when she explicitly stated that she was in a hurry. “No. She was in the process of embezzling money from several of Frederick’s clients during the time of his death.”

“Wouldn’t that prove that she had a motive?”

“Motive, yes. Opportunity, no. The transactions were initiated from the guest bathroom on the first floor and took place during the hour Frederick was missing. What’s more, we tracked her phone’s movements the entire party. She never left the house. She’s guilty of fraud and embezzlement, but the murder will be up to the local police to solve.”

“You can track everyone’s phones?”

“Not everyone’s. Only when we’re given a court order to track a suspect. We had one for Frederick and Veronica Baines, but Frederick got wise and stopped using that phone. Good for us, Baines was too stupid to do that.” We’ve reached Moreau’s vehicle now, and she says, “I really do need to leave, Miss Wilcox.”

“But there’s a murderer on the loose! You’re not staying to solve that?”

“As I said,” she replies, “that’s a case for the local police.”

She steps into the vehicle, and immediately, the driver pulls away. The SWAT van and the transport van where Veronica Baines now sits follow right on her tail.

I stand in the softly falling snow and watch them leave. The storm Moreau predicts hasn’t shown any sign that I can see yet, and the flakes settle gently on the ground. It’s a picturesque scene, but it does little to calm my raging mind.

My suspect pool has been thinned even further. It’s now down to two: Catherine Jensen and Hugo van Doren. Soon, Sean will be here, and between the two of us, we’ll find the proof we need to send one or both of them where they belong.

The snow falls gently, but another storm is coming, and it’s that storm that causes me to shiver.

When I return to the house, Catherine and Hugo have gone to bed. Sophie and Thomas are sitting in the living room drinking tea. Sophie sees me and gestures to a third cup on the coffee table.

“How on Earth have you made that so fast?” I ask. “I’ve only been gone a few minutes.”

“How long do you think it takes to make tea?” she replies with a wry smile. “I started it as soon as they pulled me off of Veronica.”

“I should have known,” Thomas says. “I knew she was a gold-digging skank, but I never suspected she would go so far. No wonder Interpol was shadowing Frederick for so long. I wonder if he—”

He catches himself, but he doesn’t need to finish his thought for me to understand it. It’s certainly possible that Frederickdidknow about her illicit activities. Perhaps that was why he triedto end the relationship. Perhaps that was what Veronica meant when she threatened to make him regret the day he met her.

He stands abruptly. “Well, I’m off to bed. And I think tomorrow I’m off to the office. I’ve had just about enough drama.”

“You’ve got the estate to run, don’t forget,” Sophie reminds him.

Thomas scoffs. “I’ve never run this estate, and you know it. You’d be a better choice for the job, anyway.”

“I don’t want it.”

"Then Franz. Or Catherine herself, for all I care. I'm done with this."

“Get some rest,” I exhort him. “You’ll think more clearly in the morning.”

“I hope so. I was Frederick’s friend, not…” he sighs, and when he speaks again, it’s with far less anger. “You’re right. I need rest. Good night, both of you.”

“Good night, Thomas.”

He leaves, and I shake my head. "I can't believe she came all this way to fight with Catherine over the memorial."

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