Page 75 of The Murder Club

“I’m just having a chat with Eric,” he drawled.

“Well, do it when he’s not on the clock.” Logan glared toward the silent Eric. “Get back to work.”

With visible relief, Eric scurried past Dom and out the door. Dom didn’t bother to stop him. Instead, he allowed his gaze to sweep over Logan, taking in the expensive cashmere sweater and black slacks before lowering to the leather shoes that were coated with a fine layer of dust.

This man hadn’t come into this derelict building to berate a missing employee. Not when he was wearing shoes that had set him back several hundred dollars. So why was he there? Had he set up a meeting with Eric? A meeting he wanted to keep secret from the rest of the staff?

That seemed the most reasonable explanation. But why?

“This is private property,” Logan intruded into Dom’s musings.

Dom arched a brow. “Is it? I understood it belonged to the county.”

Logan pinched his lips, but he didn’t bother to argue. In fact, he started backing toward the door as if he was afraid to be alone with Dom.

“Go away, Mr. Lucier,” he commanded, nearly stumbling over the warped threshold. “And don’t come back.”

For once those words had no power to hurt Dom. In fact, he smiled as he watched Logan bolt toward the nearby nursing home. Eric and Logan had a secret. And Dom had every intention of discovering what they were trying to hide.

Chapter 15

Dorinda was standing in the open doorway as Bailey finished hauling out her trash and climbed onto the porch. No surprise. The older woman had no doubt been peering through the window from the moment Dom dropped her off and impatiently waiting for Bailey to stop by for a chat before she left.

“It’s about time you brought them for a visit,” Dorinda complained as she encouraged the dogs to dance around with their tongues hanging out and their tails wagging.

“It’s only been a couple of days,” Bailey retorted, not sure if she was speaking to Dorinda or her ridiculous pets.

“That’s too long.” Dorinda scratched the dogs in the perfect spot behind their ears. “Isn’t it, boys?”

Bailey rolled her eyes as her dogs melted with pleasure. “Bert and Ernie agree.”

“Of course they do. They are very smart.”

Realizing she was wasting time, she lifted her gaze to meet her neighbor’s steady gaze.

“Are you busy?”

“Not unless you count watching old game shows. Come in.” Dorinda stepped back and the dogs darted inside, headed toward the kitchen, where the older woman kept a box of toys. Bailey followed at a slower pace, halting in the middle of the small living room as Dorinda crossed the worn carpet to shut off the television. “Sit down and I’ll get us a cup of tea.”

Bailey perched on the love seat that was upholstered in the same ugly brocade as the long couch. She adored Dorinda, but the older woman had stuffed the tiny house with heavy furniture and dozens of tables that were cluttered with stacks of old magazines. Bailey struggled against a sense of claustrophobia whenever she spent time there.

Returning with two cups of tea, Dorinda offered one to Bailey before she took a seat on the couch.

“What’s on your mind?”

Still uneasy at the realization that Ward Bennett was the lawyer for both Nellie and Pauline, she asked the question on the top of her mind.

“Did you know Pauline Hartford from Grange?”

“The one who fell in her pool?” Dorinda waited for Bailey to nod before she continued. “I wasn’t personally acquainted with her, but I know she was the superintendent of the Grange school system.” Dorinda sipped her coffee. “She was always in the paper or on the local news. She seemed to like being noticed. Why do you ask?”

Bailey carefully set the cup on a nearby table. She was too edgy to hold the delicate china.

“I was wondering if Pauline Hartford and Nellie Warren were related.”

“You mean blood-related?”

“Related in any way.”