TWO
DENTON REED JUST HAPPENEDto be in the right place at the right time.
Slowly, he circled the dead man lying face down on the floor with his left hand lifted toward his face. The dead man’s chair behind his desk had been overturned, but by the way his body lay on the floor, Denton didn’t believe the man had been struck in the head with a marble bust of George Washington while sitting and had tumbled to the ground as the sheriff had surmised. Denton’s gut told him that the old man had been standing. Perhaps he’d been arguing with someone who was in a rage. Papers were scattered haphazardly over the desk. Even the man’s coffee cup tipped over, staining several pages.
Out of curiosity, Denton picked up the now empty cup and sniffed. The only scent he detected was coffee beans.
He glanced at his friend, Terrance Greenwood, the dead man’s youngest son, who’d been Denton’s friend for a few years. Terrance was the reason Denton was in Helena, Montana, in the first place. His last case had ended him nearby, and he decided this was a good time to visit.
Ever since he changed his occupation from sheriff’s deputy to bounty hunter five years ago, luck had been following him wherever he went. Either that or he was really good at finding people who were hiding from the law.
The undertaker was already at the scene. Once the sheriff and Denton had finished inspecting the body, the undertaker covered it with a white cloth and prepared it to take to the wagon out front of the manor.
Denton retraced his steps around the study, searching for any clues. He’d heard whispers from a few servants and from the three Greenwood heirs who had gathered together. They spoke of their father’s young fiancée – who was suspiciously missing – in bitter tones.
He glanced at his friend. Terrance, a tall, muscular man, held his trembling sister, stroking her dark red hair as she cried against his chest. His blank, watery stare was on the covering over his father. After a few moments, his gaze flew to Denton, and he shook his head.
“Why would she do that to him?” Terrance’s voice broke as more tears came. “By marrying my father, Miss Mills would have been a very wealthy woman.”
Denton turned away from his friend to study the open window. A small breeze blew inside the room, but the window didn’t appear to have scuff marks around it, and the glass didn’t have any scratches or chips to make him think that someone crept in through the window.
He looked at Albert Greenwood’s children that were here. Terrance was the youngest son, and the brother just older, Clive, sat on a leather sofa with his hands covering his face as his elbows rested on his knees while the sheriff asked him questions. Patricia, the oldest daughter, along with the oldest son, Wallace, lived in California, so they wouldn’t be here any time soon. Louise was the Greenwood daughter in Terrance’s arms. All the siblings shared their father’s red hair.
The Greenwood children were wealthy in their own right, thanks to their father’s help, and Denton was certain that the man’s death would give the children even more money to invest. None of them had a motive to want their father dead, mainly because they all had money. Miss Mills’ motivation, however, he couldn’t wrap his mind around.
“Terry,” Denton said, stepping closer to his friend. “Why does everyone think that your father’s fiancée is at fault?”
Louise pulled out of Terrance’s arms and glared at Denton. Her red face clashed with her auburn hair. “You must be joking, Detective Reed. Courtney Mills had all the reason in the world to want Father dead.”
“Please explain.” Denton wanted to hear how the family felt before he gave them his observation.
Nodding, Terrance patted his sister’s shoulder and gave her a comforting look. “I’ll tell him. Go sit by Clive.”
Louise threw another scowl at Denton before she hurried to her older brother. Terrance motioned Denton to the other side of the room.
“You see,” Terrance began, “Father is friends with Miss Mills’ father, and they arranged the marriage against the wishes of his children and the bride-to-be.” He folded his arms and leaned his shoulder against the wall. “From the first day we all met Miss Mills, we could tell she wasn’t very happy with her future husband. Of course, she’s so much younger than Father. She’s even younger than Louise. I’m sure Miss Mills loathed the idea of marrying someone so much older.”
Denton almost felt sorry for Miss Mills. No woman should have to suffer through an unwanted arranged marriage. “I understand, however, if she truly wanted your father dead, wouldn’t she have killed himafterthe wedding since she would have inherited your father’s money? But since they aren’t married, she gets nothing.”
Terrance’s expression turned dark. “Miss Mills has money – maybe not as much as my father, but she still has money. Just ask her parents.” He pointed toward the hallway.
Denton glanced out the study’s door and noticed a middle-aged couple sitting on a bench in the spacious hallway. The man sat straight, wearing a stern expression. His wife dabbed her moist eyes with a handkerchief. “They are the girl’s parents? What are they doing here?”
“Today was when Father and Miss Mills were getting married. Miss Mills had planned to arrive early to have the servants take her trunks up to her room. She also needed help getting her hair fixed and dressed.”
“Did anyone see her this morning?” Denton asked, still keeping an eye on the upset parents. Mrs. Mills was quite lovely, even though she had a pale, teary face. The woman’s hair was dark blonde and curly. The man’s hair was brown and didn’t really have any striking qualities that Denton could see. If Miss Mills took after her mother in looks, he was sure the daughter would be a real beauty.
“Mr. Tibbs, Father’s butler, was the one who let her in the house.”
Denton couldn’t imagine having so much money that he needed a butler just to answer the door. Being a working man all of his life, Denton followed in his own father’s footsteps and held jobs. After all, people needed to work for what they wanted.
Denton met his friend’s stare. “Was the butler the only one to see her that you know about?”
“Yes. At least that is what I heard the sheriff say.”
“Then, I’ll question the butler next.” Denton glanced around the room again, and once more in the hallway. “Who found your father this morning?”
“Rebecca, one of the maids.”
