Page 13 of Dead Man's List

Based on what she could see from the base of his driveway, Munro’s home was impeccably landscaped with perfectly sculpted trees and a lawn without a single crooked blade of grass.

Unlike their owner. Munro had been as crooked as they came.

Kit was still angry about what Munro had tried to do to Sam. Sam Reeves was a good man who’d never compromise his ethics.

“You’re grinding your teeth,” Connor commented. “Still mad about Munro trying to trade favors with Sammy?”

She sighed. “I used to be more inscrutable.”

Connor chuckled. “And meaner. You’re nicer now. You’re also taking lead on this notification, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Yeah, yeah.” It was her turn anyway, so Connor wasn’t getting away with anything. “Wilhelmina Munro is the surviving spouse. She’s sixty-one, ten years older than Munro. They were married for five years.”

“She’s also old money,” Connor said. “Really old.”

“How do you know that?” Kit asked, reviewing the background she’d run while Connor drove. “All I found was that she’s a twice-married retired yoga teacher without even a parking ticket. I figured it was Munro’s money that financed this place.”

He lifted a brow. “That, Kit, is sexist.”

She snorted a laugh, because she’d schooled him on his patriarchal attitudes many times in the past. “You’re right. I’m sorry. So how do you know she’s old money?”

“The background check should have shown her maiden name was Cliff.”

“It did. So?”

“She’s the granddaughter of Jonas Cliff. You know, the founder of Cliff Hotels.”

“Oh. Even I’ve heard of him. So her money comes from a hotel empire?”

“It does. But this house is actually in Munro’s name, which is why you assumed he’d financed this place. Wilhelmina bought it for him. Gave it to him as a wedding gift.”

“How do you know that?”

“I asked my mom,” Connor said smugly. “She keeps a list of all the rich people so that she can hit them up for donations whenever her club’s doing a fundraiser. She knows all the gossip about everyone. I remembered her saying that she’d gotten moneyfrom Wilhelmina for one of her charities, so I called her when you were saying goodbye to Sammy. I figured we’d need a little inside information.”

Kit studied the mansion. It was easily ten thousand square feet. The detached garage alone was nearly the size of her parents’ farmhouse. “Hell of a wedding gift. I wonder if the widow knows that Munro was a slimeball?”

“According to my mom, Wilhelmina’s been living on her family’s estate near Boston for the past month. The gossip’s been all over the country club. Everyone thinks she finally found out he’d been cheating on her.”

“She owns an estate in Boston? That didn’t come up on her background check, either. Only a bungalow she used to own in Mission Beach.”

“The estate may be owned by a trust, but as the last surviving Cliff, it’s hers.”

“I wonder what Wilhelmina will tell us about him.” Then his words sank in. “Wait. Your parents hobnob in the same country club as Munro?”

“They’re members, but no hobnobbing with Munro has ever happened. My folks didn’t like him because he bragged about everything.”

Kit hesitated. “Your mom knows to keep this under her hat for now, right?”

Connor nodded. “You can trust her, Kit. She inferred that Munro was dead from my question about his wife and wished us luck with our suspect list.”

“Then let’s get busy notifying Wilhelmina so we can start building that list.”

Connor started up the long driveway. “There’s someone on the front porch.”

An elderly man stood at the front door, weary resignation on his lined face.

“They knew we were coming,” Kit said logically. “The guard at the front gate had to have called them after we drove through. I wonder who he is.”

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