Page 37 of Exposure of Murder

One was from the mayor wanting an update and the other from Maggie Thornton, who was back in town. While Rosie had given her the bad news about her father and told her Ethan wanted to interview her, Maggie insisted it wait until she came back.

He wondered why Maggie had been so evasive. She didn’t seem upset about her father’s death, according to Rosie. Perhaps Maggie had a motive tying her to David’s property and assets. It was common knowledge that she was strapped for cash. Maybe David cut her out of the will or disinherited her entirely. Would she kill for that? People had been killed for less. Ethan didn’t know, but he would investigate further.

No time like the present. Ethan grabbed his jacket and hat, walked through the bullpen. Adam was just coming in and gave him a chin lift. “What’s up?” he asked.

“I’m on my way to Maggie Thornton’s. Hopefully to get answers and find out where David was staying.”

“Gotcha. I’m coming too.”

Maggie’s house was located off the main street. She lived in a white, two-story, nondescript house with a small front porch and an overgrown lawn. They pulled into the gravel driveway and got out.

“Did the mayor ever sort out Maggie’s complaint against the town and Mark Sutton?” asked Adam.

Ethan remembered the mayor had mentioned they finally convinced Maggie that she had no recourse since it was an official right-of-way.

“Yeah. Finally,” Ethan replied.

He rang the doorbell. Listened for footsteps. Rang again.

Maggie yelled out, “Hold your horses, I’m coming.”

The door opened. Ethan hadn’t seen Maggie in at least a year, and the forty-year-old looked better than ever. Her brown hair was up in some sort of bun. She had on makeup and a pair of black slacks and a red form-fitting top. She didn’t look like someone mourning a loved one. “Sheriff, Deputy. I’ve been waiting for you. Come in.”

They walked into a cluttered interior. Boxes and papers were strewn around. Maggie directed them to the living room, gesturing for them to sit down. Ethan chose a chair by the fireplace; Adam removed some papers from the chair across from him and placed them on the coffee table. The house hadn’t been aired out in a while, and the air was dense with dust and who knew what else. A scent of mothballs hit him. Was it because Maggie just opened the house, or did it always smell? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in it.

“Are you moving?”

Maggie frowned. “I’m selling the house. My boyfriend and I are moving in together.”

“Congratulations. Are you staying in town?”

“No. My boyfriend is in real estate investment. We’re buying a property in New York and moving.” She huffed. “I’m very busy, Sheriff. What do you want to know?”

Well, if nothing else, Maggie’s attitude hadn’t changed over the years. She’d always been abrupt, bordering on rude. Ethan wondered how she found someone who would put up with her unpleasant attitude. But then again, it wasn’t any of his business.

“First off, we’re very sorry for your loss,” said Ethan.

Maggie pursed her lips. “Thanks, but you and I know my father wasn’t the most pleasant of men.”

Ethan resisted the urge to say, “That’s rich coming from the pot,” but he didn’t. “The one thing we don’t know is where your father was living. Do you have any idea?”

She thought for a moment. “He had a place outside town by the Rustic Table. It might still be in my mother’s name. She never took his.”

“What was her name?” asked Adam.

“Sheila. Sheila Frankenburg.”

The name didn’t sound familiar to Ethan, and he thought he knew everyone in town. “And the address?”

Maggie gave it to him and looked at her watch. “Anything else you’d like to know?”

“What was your relationship like with your father?” Ethan asked.

She looked at her hands and sighed. “Contentious. He promised to help me with some finances, but he never did. Instead he claimed he hid something valuable and that’s all he talked about. He was obsessed with the Jenkins farm.”

“Why?”

“Ah, some old rumor about the land that his father told him. Made no sense to me but I think my father was a little cuckoo, if you know what I mean. I know he worked there feeding the animals when he was young. Maybe he got that idea then. Plus, he hinted that he was going to make a killing with some business partner.”

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