Max admitted to herself that she was frustrated that she couldn’t get Simon to admit the truth. He wanted her to go away. Maybe she should rethink talking to Grover.
Max didn’t lie to people, but she didn’t want to upset the older gentleman. And while she didn’t want to back down, she didn’t know how she was going to find anything more—especially now that she’d gotten Lucy involved and Lucy was working with Detective Reed.
Maybe she should just … leave. Go home. See Ryan and Eve and let Lucy Kincaid and the San Antonio Police Department solve Victoria’s murder.
She seriously thought about it.
Hop on the next flight east, Max. Do you even care about this case?
Maybe that was her real problem. She didn’t care. She had become increasingly fed up with the people involved. Grant, because he told her half-truths and outright lied to her about knowing Monroe; Simon, because he knew something and thought what? That everything would just go away? But his sister was the victim, and he didn’t seem to care if her killer got away with it. And Mitch, for playing whatever game he was playing. It all just made her weary.
Except Grover and Judith Mills were good people who grieved for their daughter, for their lost friends, for their family.
And there was that pesky thing Max craved called Truth. Truth with a capital T. Victoria’s murder had created a chain reaction over the last two months … no, actually, Denise Albright’s murder had created the chain reaction, because Max believed—but couldn’t prove—that Victoria was killed because if she knew her best friend was dead she would expose Harrison Monroe. That she would believe that Harrison had her killed and wouldn’t allow him to get away with it.
So he had her killed.
No, someone who knew Victoria killed her. Remember the crime scene. The evidence.
Maybe Harrison Monroe got his hands dirty for once.
Stay or go, she had to be honest with Grover Mills, so she drove out to Fredericksburg, arriving shortly after noon. Grover was surprised to see her. “Judith and I are sitting down for lunch; please join us.”
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“You came all this way from the city, and you are always welcome.”
Max followed Grover into the house. Judith was in the kitchen. She looked like she’d been ill for weeks and only recently regained her strength.
“Don’t get up,” Max said, and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I’m sorry we couldn’t talk the other day.”
“I sleep too much,” Judith said. “I’m adjusting to a whole new life.”
Grover motioned for Max to take a seat, and then he dished her up a bowl of chili. “Nothing fancy, but I make a mean pot of chili. The bread is fresh, too.”
They ate while Judith talked about the bright spot in her life, that Jordan, her youngest, was expecting their first grandchild. “It’s a girl, and I couldn’t be happier for them,” she said. “We need joy, and babies bring such joy.”
Max dreaded believing that Simon was involved in this conspiracy. She didn’t think he killed Victoria or that he knew it would happen, but it was clear to her after their conversation that he knew—or suspected—who was responsible and why. Why wouldn’t he come forward? Was protecting whatever illegal activities he and Harrison Monroe were involved in that important?
At the end of the meal, Max said to Grover and Judith both, “The police and the FBI are now both investigating Victoria’s murder.”
“The FBI?”
“They believe that Victoria’s murder is connected to the death of Denise Albright and her family.”
Judith shook her head. “I saw the news report. Awful. I cannot imagine such a thing.”
“I’ve turned over everything I’ve learned in my own investigation, plus made a statement about what Stan Grant told me before he was released. I don’t know how much more I can be of help. I investigate cold cases—since Victoria’s murder is an active police investigation, I can watch but not really get involved.”
“They don’t think Stan killed her?” Judith’s voice caught at the end. She cleared her throat and sipped water.
“They’re now uncertain. They’ve reopened the investigation and I’m confident they will be diligent. If they’re not, I’ll come back.”
“You’re leaving,” Grover said bluntly.
“I have a few more things I want to look into, and if something changes I’ll stay, but for now I have no new direction to pursue. I will probably leave on Sunday.”
You do, but you don’t want to hurt them. What happened to the truth at any cost? If Simon is guilty—of murder or conspiracy—shouldn’t you stay until you can prove it?
“Tell me this,” Grover asked. “Can you say with one hundred percent certainty that Stan didn’t kill my baby girl?”
What did she say to that? “No, I can’t say that. I don’t think he killed her, but I think he knew who did and chose to remain silent. One hundred percent certain? No. I lean against him being guilty, and he was killed to keep his mouth shut.”
“This sounds like a criminal conspiracy,” Grover said. “What was Victoria doing?”
It was an odd thing to say.
“What do you mean?” Max asked.
“He means,” Judith said, “that Victoria may have been doing something … well, shall we say, something illegal.” Judith and Grover looked at each other, silently communicating.
Grover said, “Mitch came to me three years ago concerned about a major accounting discrepancy in the MCG books. When he talked to Victoria, she told him she’d ask Denise to fix it before it became a problem.”
“Did she?” Max asked.
“I assume so, because Mitch never talked to me about it again. I offered to review the books, but he said no, Victoria was fixing it. He was afraid of an audit, and no one wants to go through one of those, but nothing came of his concerns, so I didn’t really think about it until after you left the other day, when I remembered that Denise did a lot of work for Victoria and MCG and Simon.”
“Simon?” Max asked.
“When he was buying and selling houses. It’s a tricky tax issue, capital gains and things like that. I understand some but always trusted my own accountant to do the work. When you’re self-employed, even when you start an LLC, it’s best to have someone who knows what they’re doing handle the finances.”
“But this was three years ago,” Max said. “Why would you think Victoria was involved in anything illegal? And what sort of activity?”
“We don’t know,” Grover said.
Judith added, “Victoria put some property in my name and I found out about it after the fact. I was furious—I felt used and manipulated. She told me it was a mistake, but I didn’t believe her. I can’t imagine why she needed to use my name. It’s what we were arguing about before—before she died.” She looked down at her empty bowl. “I wish I could take back everything I said. I loved my daughter, even when I didn’t understand her.”
Grover reached over and took her hand. “She knew that, Judith.”
Max had an idea … but it would take time and research.