If Marisa’s mother looked anything like her, Nick could see why a man might do that.
“The other rumor is that Mr. Easterling got Marisa’s mom pregnant and moved her to the estate so she could be close to him.”
Nick whistled. “If she’s an Easterling, then Wentworth wouldn’t have a motive to kill his wife.”
But Brian shook his head. “I don’t believe Easterling was her father. But I think their situation was ripe to create rumors. Everyone loves a scandal, especially in a small town.
“Speaking of rumors,” Brian continued, “I think Scott and Carolyn Wentworth had a prenup.”
Nick sat up straighter. “Can you find out for sure?”
“Yep.” Brian tapped his index finger to his lips in thought. “It’d be interesting to see if it contained a death clause.”
“I want an autopsy on Carolyn Wentworth,” Marisa said the next morning at the sheriff’s office. Finding only Brian’s dark friend present took some of the wind out of her sails.
He rose from his chair and answered in a deep baritone. “An autopsy is standard procedure in possible suicides.”
Well that deflated her righteous anger. She tried not to stare at him … what was his name? But he was compelling to look at in his tight, faded jeans and his navy NYFD T-shirt that stretched over a muscular chest. His intensity was palpable. She couldn’t look away.
He held out a hand to her. “I’m Nick Stark. You probably don’t remember my name. You were pretty distressed.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Are you a policeman?” She shook his hand. It was strong and warm.
“I’m an EMT with the New York City Fire Department. I’m on vacation.” Some dark tone colored his words.
She frowned. “What are you doing at the sheriff’s office?”
Nick grimaced. “They’re short-handed, so I’m watching the phones as a personal favor to Brian.”
“I’m sure the sheriff’s department appreciates your help. As a Watkins Glen business owner, I’d like to say thank you.”
“It feels good to be needed, even if it’s to answer phones.” Again, there was a bitter quality to his words.
“How long until we know the result of Caro’s autopsy?”
“Your friend’s body was transported yesterday to Montour Falls Hospital. That’s the closest coroner. The coroner said he’d try to get to the autopsy later this morning.”
Only a few more hours and she’d know. Marisa swallowed. “Would you ask Deputy Nash to ask the coroner to check if Caro had been pregnant?”
Nick lifted one dark eyebrow. “You don’t believe her husband’s story?”
“No, I don’t. Caro would have told me.”
“Interesting. Mr. Wentworth didn’t want an autopsy. He claimed his wife had been through enough already.”
Marisa’s heart rate speeded up with excitement. She was sure an autopsy would provide answers. It would prove that Caro’s death had been an accident and shut jackass Scott’s foul mouth.
Imagine him pretending he cared about Caro. He’d been from a good family and married well as both sets of parents expected. But Marisa didn’t think their marriage was more than the merging of two dynasties. It certainly wasn’t the dream marriage the 23-year-old Caro had thought she was getting with the dashing man ten years her senior. She hadn’t told Marisa so much in words. Rather, it was what she left unsaid that led Marisa to believe Caro’s marriage wasn’t paradise.
If the autopsy made Scott look like a fool, so be it. But she didn’t want to tarnish Caro by airing her suspicions about their marriage.
Instead, she said, “Scott probably said that about the autopsy because he was still in shock.”
“You’ve recovered.”
Marisa lifted her chin. “I need to clear Caro’s name. That’s the most important thing I have to do right now.”
“What will you do if the autopsy is inconclusive? The train did a lot of damage.”
A vision of Caro’s severed arm infected Marisa’s mind. Her stomach twisted, making breakfast sit uneasily. “Then I’ll look for answers someplace else.”
Nick drew a clean piece of paper to him, scribbled a note and rested his pen against it. “What number can Brian reach you at when he gets the results?”
Marisa gave him her business card. “Please tell Brian I’ll appreciate the call.”
There was an awkward moment when their business was concluded. Her mother’s words about dreams and Marisa’s response echoed in her head. And the shame she’d felt afterward for thinking of any man so soon. Nick Stark was only visiting Watkins Glen. Soon he’d be gone, like her fiancé.
“Good-bye.”
Marisa headed for the door, but before she could reach the handle, it opened inward and Brian Nash entered. He was the antithesis of Nick, light coloring where Nick was dark, open and friendly face where Nick’s was closed and stern, a quick grin instead of brooding intensity.
“Hi, Marisa.” With his boy-next-door looks, he was a lot like Kevin. Unlike Kevin, Brian had no problem leaving the big city behind.
“Hello, deputy.” She opened her mouth to give him the message she’d given Nick.
His jovial smile smoothed to seriousness. “I heard about you and Kevin. I’m sorry.”
Yesterday she’d been inundated with condolences on Caro’s death. No one had said a word about her broken engagement, although by mid-afternoon people must have known. Today that unspoken ban must have lifted. She wasn’t prepared for the pain she felt. “Thank you.”
“I guess yesterday was hard on you.”
She swallowed before answering. “Yes.”
“Let me know if you need someone to talk to. I can recommend some excellent counselors and you wouldn’t have to worry about everyone in town knowing your business.”
“Oh. Thanks, I’ll do that.” As she hurried through the door, Nick watched her with silent, intense interest.
She was used to being the focus of small town gossip. She’d be the hot topic until the next juicy morsel came along. Then her fifteen minutes of fame would end. She wished the hurt would only last that long.
• • •
Nick’s glance speared Brian. “What happened between her and her fiancé?”
“He dumped her yesterday, while her friend was being killed.” Brian’s mouth twisted in distaste.
“Ouch. Talk about bad timing.” Yeah, now she was available but grieving. Nick would be the worst lowlife to make a move on her now. He handed Brian the phone messages he’d taken along with Marisa’s card with the note attached.
“Johansson’s moving to California to become partners with a college buddy. Marisa didn’t date anyone else the whole time he was in college. What a lousy reward for her loyalty.” Brian leafed through the phone messages.
“Bastard.” Nick felt like taking a fist to Kevin’s face. Marisa Avalos was too good a woman to be treated like that. He was startled to think he’d based her character assessment on the fact she cared about her dead friend.
Brian poured a cup of coffee and sat at his desk. “Did a copy of the Wentworth’s prenup come in while I was gone?”
“Yep.” Nick gave Brian a smug smile. He searched through the papers on the desktop. “I read it. It contains a death clause. If his wife predeceases him, Scott Wentworth inherits all her worldly goods.” He handed it to Brian.
Brian scanned it and whistled. “And her parents’. Very generous. But I still don’t think he killed her.”
Nick put his feet up on the desk and settled in. “You gotta admit it’s a powerful motive. If he divorced her, he’d only get what he brought into the marriage.”
“Scott Wentworth came from a wealthy family. He didn’t need her money. I think she killed herself.”
Nick frowned, tapping his fist against his chin. “If she was serious about killing herself, why risk a slow moving train? She could just as easily have been paralyzed or turned into a vegetable after a head injury. I would think having lived with a paralyzed mother that would be the last thing she’d be willing to risk.”
Brian sipped his coffee before setting it down. “If she was depressed, she might not have been thinking clearly. She saw the train, thought how she could end her pain, and stepped out onto the tracks.”
“But Scott Wentworth said they’d just come from boating. Why not simply throw herself overboard and drown?”
Brian lifted an eyebrow. “Because her husband would have saved her.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m not sure about anything yet. You said the husband said she was on medication. Why not overdose?”
Nick nodded. “True. If she really wanted to die, why wait until she was in the town where she was born?”
“Maybe being here increased her sense of loss. Her parents are dead, so maybe that big old house haunted her. Maybe it made her depression worse.”
“Yeah, and maybe seeing her friends with their children reminded her of the miscarriage.”
“Marisa doesn’t have children, and she was Carolyn’s best friend.”
She didn’t have a fiancé now either, Nick added. Out loud he said, “You won’t know anything for sure until you get the autopsy results.” And maybe he’d offer to be the one to call Marisa so he’d get to talk to her again.
“Can you come to my office at two?” Harlan Overmyer, the man who identified himself as the Easterlings’ family attorney, asked Marisa later that morning.
She checked her Day Planner and saw she was available. “Yes, but may I ask what it regards?”
“Carolyn Wentworth’s will. You’re named in it and it’s to be read today.”
Marisa couldn’t contain her shock. “But she’s not even buried! Why the rush?”
“Scott Wentworth asked me to expedite the will.”
Marisa bit down on the expletives she wanted to use against Caro’s husband. “How can you proceed if you don’t know the cause of death? The coroner hasn’t finished the autopsy yet.” Or maybe Nick had forgotten to pass on her message.
“Mr. Wentworth assured me the autopsy would be finished this morning and that the ruling would be suicide. I’ve contacted the coroner’s office in Montour Falls so that I’ll be notified of the results as soon as they’re in.”
Marisa ground her teeth together. All this haste was at the least unseemly. “I’ll be there at two, Mr. Overmyer.”
When she hung up, her mother called to her from across the room where she was stitching one of her designs. “What is wrong,
mi hija
?”
Marisa told her, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. “He was married to her for four years. He’s not spending any time grieving, but finding out how rich he’s going to be. It’s so cold and callous.”
“Maybe that is his way of dealing with grief.” Her mother’s disapproving expression said she believed otherwise.
Marisa loved her mother for not making her hurt worse about Caro’s death, for not spilling additional poison into an already unbearable situation.
“Maybe it is.”
“Marisa, about Carolyn … ”
The bell over the door chimed and two college-aged women walked through. They made a beeline for one rack containing needlepoint blouses, exclaiming in delight as they held the first blouse up to examine it. Anjelita rose to assist them.
The phone rang and Marisa lifted the receiver. “Glen Accounting.”
“It’s Nick Stark.” Marisa felt fluttery with nerves at the sound of his deep voice. “Brian just got the coroner’s report. Do you want me to come to your office or would you rather hear it over the phone?”
Marisa braced herself. Her stomach tightened into a hard knot. “Tell me.”
“Cause of death was blunt force trauma. She died instantly … ”
Her breath whooshed out. “Thank God.”
“Whether it was suicide was inconclusive. However.” Nick drew an audible breath. “Carolyn Wentworth had been pregnant, but no longer was. The coroner didn’t believe she’d delivered a full-term baby.”
“No.” Marisa’s eyes filled. Caro wouldn’t keep something like that to herself. “It can’t be true.” But Caro hadn’t said a word to her, her best friend.
Nick’s voice gentled. “Dr. Hampstead has been a medical examiner for twenty years. The sheriff said he’s very thorough.”
Fat tears rolled down Marisa’s cheeks, dripping onto the audit reports in front of her. She tried to blot the drops from the papers before the ink ran. “So you believe it’s true, what her husband said?” She couldn’t even say the words aloud.
Nick sighed. “The sheriff can’t rule it out. Not now.”
“Caro wasn’t like that. She wouldn’t have killed herself.” Nor would the Caro Marisa had known have kept a pregnancy secret. She’d have called Marisa to share her joy. The world was off kilter. This was a bad dream and she’d wake up to find her friend alive and Kevin still her loyal fiancé.
“Your friend might have tripped. I’ll ask Brian to do a little more digging and see what he can find.”
Hope rose again, faint but breathing. “I’d appreciate that. Thanks for calling me.”
“You’re welcome. Marisa?”
She hesitated. What if he had more bad news? “Yes?”
“If you need someone to talk to … ”
“Yes?” She held her breath.
“Don’t hesitate to get those phone numbers from Brian.”
Marisa didn’t know what she’d expected, but his answer was a disappointment. What was wrong with her? Only yesterday, she’d been in love and engaged to be married. Now she wanted comfort from a dark stranger?
“I remember.” She disconnected with a quick good-bye.
The world had gone mad. All of her anchors had snapped free and she felt lost and adrift. And then she remembered Caro’s baby. Had the miscarriage sent Caro into a depression where she felt she couldn’t talk to Marisa about something so personal and devastating? Had it made her not want to live?
Tears continued to run down Marisa’s cheeks in ever-increasing numbers, destroying much of the spreadsheet. She found herself gulping sobs, and then loving arms were around her, her mother’s familiar lemony scent in her nose. She clung to the anchor in this crazy world and cried for what she’d lost.
• • •
Scott Wentworth made a point to glance at his watch when Marisa arrived at the lawyer’s office at five minutes before two that afternoon. Marisa wanted to hit him. Her eyes were still puffy from weeping; yet Scott looked completely unaffected by grief. Even his hair was perfect.
“You cut that close,” he said.