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Chapter Nineteen

Despite the late afternoon hour, we saw plenty of people golfing or riding in golf carts, both of which demonstrated the popularity of River Mill Golf Club. No one paid much attention to us, even as I locked my purse in the trunk of Alan’s car.

I had on casual slacks, a 3/4-sleeve knit top, and a denim jacket which looked nice at Butterflies and Blooms . Here, though, most ladies wore golf skirts, showing off their lean tanned legs, short-sleeved tops, and sweaters draped across their shoulders.

In other words, they looked classy and I looked dorky. Even so, Alan didn’t seem to notice.

Walking together toward the veranda, I remarked, “I’ll bet it costs a pretty penny to run a place like this. Landscaping alone must be a fortune.”

“I imagine so,” Alan agreed. “Of course, memberships don’t come cheap here.”

“I guess they have an accountant or, maybe, a bookkeeper. ”

Alan nodded. “Probably both. I’m sure they need to have an annual audit. Now that I think about it, I’ll ask bartender Jim who he uses.”

“Do we need one for our detective agency?”

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

After my first husband died, I had an accountant prepare my federal and state taxes because my finances were such a mess. Since our marriage, though, Alan filed our taxes, and I appreciated not having to worry about them.

A booming voice interrupted my musings. We both turned to see Stan Parker, the golfer we’d met at the bar, waving to us. “I guess we made an impression on you,” he called. “Welcome back.”

Alan immediately recollected his name. “It’s good to see you again, Stan. Did you play today?”

“Yeah, just nine holes, but my score was lousy. That’s the way it goes some days.”

“I guess so,” Alan agreed. “We decided to check out the pro shop before we grab a bite to eat. Do you think it’s still open?”

Stan glanced at his watch. “They close at five during the week, but you might make it if you hurry.” Recognizing that we didn’t know the way, he pointed toward the front entrance. “Take a right past the main office and head to the end of the hall. You can’t miss it.”

We thanked him, then made our way inside. “Why the pro shop?” Alan whispered.

“So we can act as if we want to buy golf stuff while we talk to people who may know Liz Sterling.”

“Okay. We don’t have much time so let’s split up. I’ll check out the golf clubs while you look at women’s wear.”

That suited me fine since the whole scenario reminded me of the ski shop at Alpine Holiday Lodge where Alan seemed to get his kicks because I didn’t know what I was doing. This time we were both out of our element.

I stared at the price tag on a golf shirt, wondering who would pay such an amount. The woman nearby had two of them draped over her arm. “Do these wash well?” I asked.

She paused to pirouette. “I’m wearing one now, and I’ve had it for at least two years. What do you think?”

“It looks brand new,” I admitted. “They offer a selection of colors here, which I like.”

She smiled. “Me, too. Are you new to golfing?”

I giggled. “Is it that obvious?”

“Just a little. I’m Sally Richards, and welcome.”

“Thanks, I’m Sue Jaworski. Do you come here often?”

“Just about every day, at least in the summer. My husband and I are snowbirds, so we go to Florida in the winter.”

Her comment made me think of my dad who had moved to Florida after my mother passed away. He loved to golf, and he, too, had died while golfing. Why I never made the connection with Ed Sterling surprised me.

I nodded, bringing myself back to the conversation. “Lucky you! One of my neighbors golfs here, although I haven’t seen her since the funeral for her husband. Do you know Liz Sterling?”

“Oh, my goodness, yes. In fact, she and I were having lunch the day he passed. By the time she got to the 14th green, he was gone, poor thing.”

“She must have been devastated.”

“You have no idea,” she sighed. “I mean, she had to close his accounting firm and settle his affairs while trying to carry on despite her grief.”

“Didn’t she have anyone to help her? ”

She paused, thinking. “I believe her sister was coming from Africa where she’s a missionary. Liz was excited about that.”

“I’ll have to keep my eye out for both of them.”

“Me, too,” she agreed. At the sound of a whistle, she added, “Closing time, so I need to pay for my purchases. I hope to see you around, Sue.”

If anything, I thought, I found a talkative woman who knew Liz, and that counted for something. Even better, Sally verified Clare Dolan’s authenticity, and I considered that a real value.

^^^

Alan and I took a table near the entrance to the bar and grill so we could keep an eye out for Joe Wiley. Truth be told, I wouldn’t have known them if they walked into Butterflies and Blooms , thus I depended on my husband for their recognition.

He told bartender Jim that we’d wait to order since we had dinner plans with the doctor and his wife. They chatted casually before Alan asked him, “Do you have an accountant?”

Jim looked surprised. “Why do you ask?”

“Because Sue and I started a business last year and I don’t know all of the tax laws. Should I hire someone?”

“Did you set up an LLC?” he asked.

“What’s that?” I questioned.

“A Limited Liability Corporation,” Alan explained before turning back to Jim. “No, because I didn’t think we’d need it. ”

Jim shrugged. “You might want to check that out, though I can’t recommend anyone because we used Ed Sterling—and he’s now dead.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Alan remarked sympathetically. “I’ll let you know if I find anyone.”

“I’d appreciate it.” He glanced at an arriving couple. “Hi, Joe and Lindsey. I’ll send someone over to take your orders in just a few minutes.”

We introduced ourselves, and they took their seats across from Alan and me. Neither of them looked familiar, which made me wonder how people who lived almost directly across the street could be total strangers.

They both seemed a good ten years younger than Alan and me, and they both dressed in the country-club fashion. I liked the sweater-over-the-shoulder look with the arms crossed in front, and decided to do that next time we came to River Mill.

Doctor Joe started the conversation. “I’m sorry you never got to know our neighbor, Ed Sterling. He was the accountant for my practice and a darn nice guy.”

“How long did you live next door?” Alan queried.

“Gosh, at least twenty-five years. We both had our homes built about the same time, and our families got along great. We’d have backyard barbecues, and their kid played with our two. It couldn’t have been better.”

“Do your children still live in Aspen Notch?” Alan asked.

Joe chuckled. “No, they gravitated to big-city universities after high school. One’s in New York City and one’s in Chicago.”

“They’re still in college?” I questioned.

“No,” he replied with a shake of his head. “They’ve long-since graduated, married gals they met in college, got tremendous jobs, and they’re raising their families in the big-city suburbs.”

Lindsey beamed her pride. “We now have four beautiful grandkids who bring us such joy, even at a distance. We’ll all get together for Thanksgiving, then they’ll join us on a Disney cruise just after Christmas.”

“That sounds wonderful,” I said. “Alan and I just returned from Tokyo where my son married a sweet Japanese girl.” As soon as I mentioned our travel, I wanted to take back the words since they made us sound snooty.

Joe and Lindsey didn’t seem to notice.

We eventually ordered bar food and beverages, and spent the next hour or so getting to know one another. Nothing they told us about themselves raised red flags, although I found it obvious that they had plenty of money.

Alan seamlessly guided the discussion to what occurred on the day Ed Sterling died.

Joe sighed audibly. “I did everything in my power to bring him back, but nothing worked. I’ve replayed that scenario in my head so many times…” He lowered his eyes until he had control of his emotions.

“It must have been a shock,” Alan said. “Were you his doctor?”

“No, I’m a general surgeon, not in family practice. As far as anyone knew, he was in good health.”

“How did his wife take the news of his death?”

Joe frowned. “She was upset, of course. Lindsey and I knew she needed time to grieve, so we haven’t bothered her.”

“When’s the last time you saw her?” I directed my question to Lindsey.

She glanced at her husband before replying, “We golfed last Saturday afternoon, here at River Mill. ”

“Did she seem upset about anything?” I pressed.

“Not really,” she replied. “I mean, she was still closing the books for Ed’s business, but she hoped her sister would help with that.”

I nodded my understanding, then had a second thought. “Is her sister nearby?”

She smiled. “I should clarify. Liz has a sister who’s a nun in Africa, or so she told us. We never met her, did we, honey?”

He gave a shake of his head before taking a final sip of his beer.

She continued. “I believe Janice is her sister-in-law. Janice Walker is Ed’s sister, and she lives in town.”

“Good to know,” I said. Inwardly, I cringed. We now added another J.W. to our possible suspects. “Do you happen to have her phone number?”

“I might,” she said, reaching for her phone. “We exchanged numbers when we wanted to surprise Liz for her birthday a few years back.” She read it aloud and I entered it into my phone.

“How about Liz’s number?” I asked. I entered that one, too.

Joe waved to the waiter for the check and instructed him to put our meals on their tab. Two things became clear to me: one didn’t argue with the doctor; and, when he was finished, everyone was finished.