Emilia: Part 2 (Trassato Crime Family Book 4) Page 6

  “I don’t know what you mean by a lot of time, but he had a small office there with a computer, so it wasn’t unusual for him to be there during the day.”

  “Did you share the office with him?”

  I shifted in my seat. While Ron didn’t want me to spill the back-story of our marriage, in my opinion, I had nothing to hide. They already knew Gavin was seeing someone else, so obviously we had problems. Not the kind of problem they thought, though. Other than the first few months of our marriage when we tried to make things work, we were business partners and best friends. Well, I considered him my best friend. Evidentially, Gavin didn’t share the sentiment.

  “No. I worked in the home office, mostly doing the bookkeeping, inventory, and ordering. Gavin was the hands-on guy, mending fences, herding, and supervising the employees.”

  “Now that you’ve had a month or so to think things over, do you know of anyone who would have wanted your husband dead?” Detective Schneider asked.

  “Excuse me?” I scraped out. Ron warned me the question was coming, and yet it still hit me like a swift kick to the gut. Everyone loved Gavin. He was the center of every party with his quick wit and outgoing nature. He was generous too, even giving friends temporary jobs at the ranch when they were down on their luck, kind of like me in the beginning.

  “Let me rephrase that question. Is there anyone with motive or something to gain from Gavin’s death?”

  “Well, he didn’t have much except the ranch, and we owned it jointly, so now it’s mine.” I winced the second the words fell out of my mouth. I might as well hold out my hands for the handcuffs. “I hadn’t lived in Colorado all my life, so there could be other people, former employees or exes. His brother Brandon was upset when he found out his mother planned to leave the ranch to us instead of him. He even tried to get her to change her will a few weeks before she died. It caused a huge fight between the two of them. I assumed they had patched up things recently, but I don’t know the details.”

  “Do you know why his mother disinherited Brandon?”

  “She didn’t disinherit him. She left him some money. I don’t know if anything is left, but as far as her inner thoughts go, I can’t speculate except to say Brandon wasn’t really around, not until recently.”

  “Okay. What about your family?”

  “My family?” I echoed. “Gavin never met my family. We aren’t on the best terms.”

  “You’re staying with your father now, so things can’t be too bad.”

  “I left New York four years ago, and I didn’t have any contact with them until after the funeral.”

  “Why not?”

  I rolled my lips into my mouth, carefully considering my words. Part of me wanted to share my suspicions that my family had something to with Gavin’s death, but I couldn’t pull the trigger. Loyalty to the family had been beat into my head since I spoke my first words, and when push came to shove, I obeyed.

  “I wanted to explore the world and do my own thing. After Gavin died, I was scared to be at the ranch alone, so I went home.”

  “Sure. Sure,” Detective Littlejohn interjected. “Tell us about Vicki Rollins.”

  “Vicki Rollins.” I glanced at Ron, and he shrugged one shoulder like he didn’t have a clue where this was going. I certainly didn’t. “I don’t know much about her. Gavin hired her last summer as a Seasonal Conservation Ranch Hand. The position lasted six months, and then she was gone. I don’t know where she went. She reported to Gavin, not me.”

  “What was involved in that position?”

  “Off the top of my head?” He nodded. “Livestock handling, invasive plant control, tool, fence, and equipment maintenance, and some other stuff. Like I said, I did the bookkeeping and ordering. Gavin managed the more hands on stuff.”

  “What was the nature of Miss Rollins’ relationship with Gavin?” he asked while he jotted down something in the notebook in front of him. My fingers itched with the urge to rip it away from him and see what he wrote.

  The hairs on the back of my neck bristled, and I knew they were leading me down a path I would rather not explore. “Employer/employee.”

  Littlejohn leaned forward like a dog waiting for its next treat. So much for my good cop theory? “Not personal?”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  He smiled and flipped back a couple of pages in his notebook. “According to Miss Rollins, they were intimately involved and Gavin planned to divorce you. Did you know about this?”

  I bowed my head, despair rushing through my veins.

  Damnit, Gavin! Why didn’t you say something?

  A somber silence hung over the room, and I couldn’t catch my breath. Vicki’s blonde hair and blue eyes floated through my brain. From everything I could remember about her on the five or six times we came face to face, she was everything I wasn’t. An outgoing, straightforward girl without baggage. Laughed and smiled all of the time like life had never thrown her a curveball.

  This line of questioning made me grateful I had forced Sal and Marcello to stay at my house today. Having three witnesses to the pathetic failure of a marriage was more than enough. Would there ever be a time when I wasn’t second best?

  “No. Gavin and I were more friends than anything else, so I’m not surprised. Divorce had come up in the past, but he never seemed like he was in a hurry.”

  “Why were you discussing divorce?”

  I glanced at my attorney, and he frowned. He didn’t want to get into the particulars of my marriage, but pretending I believed we were happy wouldn’t do me any favors. “We hadn’t slept in the same bedroom for at least a year, and we agreed we were better as friends. We hadn’t made any moves to change the status quo because we were busy reviving the ranch. His mom’s medical bills sucked a lot capital out of the business.”

  Littlejohn’s smile turned somber. “Let’s talk about the money issue.”

  My head snapped up. “There wasn’t a money issue. The ranch was finally in the black, and we were doing pretty well. We were comfortable, not rich, though.”

  “What I meant to ask is what you planned to do for money if he went through with the divorce?”

  “I owned half of the ranch. I assumed he would either buy me out or I could continue on as a silent partner. The ranch was his legacy, not mine. I wouldn’t have fought him.”

  Littlejohn leaned back in his chair, a smile stretching across his too smug face. He presumed he had me. Well, fuck him. I wouldn’t fall into his trap. I had nothing to hide. I didn’t do anything wrong, and I’d fight this until my dying breath.

  “Gavin planned to contest ownership of your half of the ranch. He had some theory…” Littlejohn opened a folder and slid it across the table. I refused to touch it. He cleared his throat. “About undue influence and duress. I’m not an attorney, so I don’t understand the particulars.”

  He glanced up, an aw-shucks expression on his face. Too bad it didn’t do anything to cover the gotcha look gleaming in his eyes. What a dick. He should go back and study reruns of Law and Order or whatever. He needed some better acting skills. Then again, he probably didn’t need them. It wasn’t like this town had much crime other than driving under the influence of alcohol or marijuana and maybe a bar fight here or there. This was probably the highlight of both of their careers.

  “What’s that?”

  “A letter from your late husband to his attorney discussing strategy to gain full ownership of the ranch.”

  Bastard.

  I ground my teeth together with enough force to snap them in half. If Gavin weren’t already dead, I’d seriously consider punching him in the face. After all the promises of honesty, he decided to go behind my back. I would have given him the fuckin’ ranch. I considered it home, but I would have never gone to war with him to keep it.

  What the fuck was wrong with the men in my life? I must have some sort of built-in sonar for attracting lying assholes. First my dad, then Sal and Marcello, and finally Gavin. Sadly, I believed he was
truly honorable, and even if I never found a way to love him passionately, I loved him as a friend. Now I wondered if it was all some grand delusion I created in my screwed-up head. It was official. My judgment sucked. I wouldn’t know how to spot a loyal man if God shined a spotlight on him and attached a neon sign to his chest saying, “Pick this one.”

  “So what’s your point? I already told you I didn’t know anything about his plans or his relationship with Vicki Rollins.”

  “My point is you would have been destitute without Gavin’s support.”

  “This is ridiculous,” my attorney finally cut in as he whipped out another set of papers from his briefcase. Apparently, this was the war of documents I didn’t know anything about. Good thing my father insisted on hiring me an attorney. I’d be drowning right now if I were alone. “Miss Trassato inherited the majority of her grandfather’s estate approximately six months ago. Here is a copy of his will, along with a letter from the estate attorney to her dated months before Gavin died.”

  Detective Schneider shrugged. “So what? She inherited a few bucks from her grand—”

  “Not a few bucks,” Ron interjected. “Ten million in cash and stocks and another eight to ten million in real estate. I don’t know how much the ranch is worth, but I’m gonna guess that it doesn’t come close to twenty million.”

  My jaw fell open, but I shut it quickly, trying to mask my surprise. I glanced at the letter dated months ago with my address at the ranch. I never received it, not that I’d point that out right now. I wasn’t beneath playing dirty, especially when the police should be out looking for the real killer, not wasting their time on me.

  “No,” I said absently. “The ranch is probably worth a million, plus or minus a few hundred thousand depending on the real estate market and cattle futures.”

  “So you see, Miss Trassato had absolutely no motive or inclination to hold onto the ranch. She had more than enough money to support herself, and she clearly had no reason to kill him over a couple hundred thousand dollars.”

  “Do you have any documentation on the value of the estate?”

  “I’ll send you a notarized statement. You can verify the information at your leisure.” Ron stood, and I followed suit. “I think we’re done here. Are you ready to go, Emilia?”

  “Wait.” Detective Littlejohn held up his hand. “We need to know your plans for the next few weeks. Are you going to leave Colorado, or the country for that matter?”

  Ron tapped the side of my purse. As we discussed earlier, I fumbled for my passport inside the front suede pocket and tossed it onto the table. “As I understand it, I am free to go wherever, but just to make you feel better, here’s my passport. Anything else?”

  “Yes, don’t leave town without checking in.”

  “Consider this your notice then. My client intends to travel freely between Colorado and New York over the next few months. You can call me in the meantime, not her.”

  Ron flung open the door, and I released a drawn-out breath. That was harder than I anticipated.

  “Oh, and Mrs. Lancaster?”

  I flinched hearing that name, particularly now that the detectives made it clear Gavin was plotting to dump me. “Yes?”

  “Do you have Gavin’s wedding ring?”

  “No.” I turned around, nausea swelling inside of me. If I could erase anything, it would be the memory of Gavin when I walked into his office. “It wasn’t on him when…when…” I couldn’t finish that sentence.

  “Did he always wear it?” Detective Littlejohn asked.

  “As far as I know, but then there was a whole helluva lot Gavin hid from me. So, who knows? Maybe he pawned it and bought a ring for his girlfriend.” I shrugged like I didn’t have a pile of acid eating me from the inside out envisioning him so casually getting rid of the ring I bought for him when the ranch’s finances turned around. I even had it engraved with the letters of our first names.

  “Let us know if you find it.”

  “You’ll be the first to know.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  My mind was running a million miles an hour as I exited the interrogation room, and I didn’t know where to begin. Terror, confusion, and bitterness swirled inside of me. I detested being this girl—the girl who bolted rather than face the truth head on. Running was what I did best, though.

  “I didn’t know anything about the money,” I said under my breath, my body heaving with confusion.

  “You should have. Mr. Bonaccorso’s estate attorney sent you multiple letters.”

  “What do you think happened to them?”

  “Maybe Gavin intercepted them.”

  Pain slashed through my ribcage, and blood hammered inside my ears. I wanted to slam my fist through the wall, but I kept walking, almost like I’d fall apart if I didn’t continue putting one foot in front of the other. My shoes clicked over the blue and white checkered linoleum, my mind whirling with hints of betrayal.

  “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he keep the information from me? If anything, it would make the divorce he supposedly wanted easier, at least from his perspective.” Even as the explanation fell from my lips, I couldn’t stop the wild thoughts circling like sharks in my brain.

  Gavin had an affair.

  Gavin wanted a divorce.

  Gavin was scheming to take the ranch from me even though I would have willingly given it to him.

  Gavin had secrets—so many secrets.

  I didn’t really know him.

  Ron opened the glass door to the police building and gestured for me to go first. “I don’t know. Take a look around the house and see if you find them anywhere. And the wedding ring too. If it’s missing, we’ll have a good argument it was a robbery gone wrong rather than some sort of domestic altercation.”

  “Right.” I kicked a pebble over the cracked sidewalk into the street and squinted at the sun setting over the mountains. This view, this town, rejuvenated me and made me feel protected from all the bad stuff in my life back in New York. After Gavin’s death that feeling disappeared, and now with everything I learned, I wondered if I’d hid my head in the sand the entire time I lived here. I missed so much. I blinded myself to everything except what I wanted to see. “What’s the next step?”

  “You go on with your life. I’ll take care of things here. The police don’t have anything on you, and they won’t find anything. They’re doing their due diligence, but this is a small town with a small budget. They don’t have the resources to investigate this for long. They’ll probably write everything off as a suicide and move on.”

  Darkness and anger pulsed through me. As much as I wanted the police to leave me alone, I didn’t want it to happen because of a lack of resources.

  “I want Gavin to have justice. It makes me sick that his killer is out there somewhere, thinking he got away with taking Gavin’s life. It’s not fair.”

  “Life’s not fair.”

  God, didn’t I know it. A gnawing sorrow cut through me. I had so many fucking regrets, and I hadn’t even lived thirty years.

  “Yeah.” I swallowed over the boulder-sized lump in my throat. “Are you staying the night in town or are you headed back to Denver?”

  “My kid has a school performance tonight. I was hoping to catch the last half.”

  “All right. Well, thanks for everything.”

  He squeezed my forearm, a soft smile on his face. I had no clue where my father found this man. I liked him, though, which was unusual. He had a kind soul. “Take care of yourself, Emilia, and remember everything is fleeting, including this. Life, your life, will go on. This is a blip on the radar, nothing more.”

  I hoped he was right.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Instead of going back into my house, I veered left and parked the truck in front of the barn where Gavin died. I hadn’t stepped foot inside since the day I found him sprawled out on his back, his blood coating the polished concrete floor. The police had barricaded his office in the back corner while lea
ving the rest open so we had access to the necessary equipment to keep the business going.

  I stared at barn, summoning the courage to go inside. It had a sandstone foundation with soaring gray washed vertical siding and a black metal roof. Black and brown cows dotted the green landscape, their heads bowed, their tails swinging.

  Move.

  I tightened my hands on the steering wheel until my knuckles whitened. Somehow, someway, I had to find the courage to face the demons inside of the building looming in front of me. I needed to know if Gavin had intercepted the letters from my grandfather’s estate. I needed to come to terms with all of the mistakes I made by running away and using Gavin as a security blanket so I didn’t have to confront my dad, Sal, or Marcello.

  My throat tight and my eyes burning with tears I refused to shed, I pushed opened the driver’s side door of the truck and climbed out. With a quick shove of my short hair away from my face, I crossed the grassy meadow and cracked open the side door leading into Gavin’s office. The air whooshed out of my lungs when I saw the concrete next to the desk where I’d last seen his body. This was where my world exploded for the second time. Once again, I was left to pick up the pieces.

  I squinted, seeking out reminders of Gavin’s death. Stained or chipped concrete. Police tape. Anything, really. Disturbingly, it was in perfect order, almost as if someone had gone to great lengths to completely erase that day. Apparently, Brandon didn’t lie when he claimed to have hired some company to clean up the office.

  I circled the perimeter of the room, and memory after memory crashed into my brain. Meeting Gavin for the first time. Eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the floor of his office as we camped out late into the night waiting for the birth of a foal. Our first and last kiss. Sweet and sour was the only way to describe visiting the place I considered the private domain of a man I wrongly assumed I knew so well.

  With a growl of frustration, I plopped into the worn leather chair behind his desk. The stuffing was coming out in places, and it wobbled and squeaked. I had offered to replace it a million times, and Gavin always refused. It was one of the few reminders of his dad, who died in a freak horse riding accident.