“My mother is the second in line to take over. The board of directors would have to put it to a vote, but I don’t see any reason why they wouldn’t put her in charge…” Baxter stopped speaking and turned to his mother. “This is allyourdoing!”
Mary Lou’s eyes showed a hint of fear, but behind it was glee. Baxter was behaving the exact way she thought he would. “Mydoing. Why, whatever do you mean?”
“You’re trying to make me seem crazy so that you can go to the board and have them replace me with you. Then you could sell the park and walk away with millions, leaving me to rot in some nuthouse.” Baxter was on the edge of his seat, looking as if he were ready to bolt from the room at any second.
Baxter’s fear was real. Even though Ten wasn’t getting a lot from Mary Lou, he knew the scenario Baxter laid out was exactly what his mother wanted. She wanted to be free of the park, of Massachusetts, and from her husband’s iron-fisted grip on his money. If she sold the park, she wouldn’t have to ask anyone for a penny to spend on clothes or her nails. It wouldallbe hers.
“As you can see, Mr. Grimm, my son has gone off the deep end. You’re all witnesses.” Mary Lou’s eyes landed on Jude. She dropped him a wink.
“Mrs. Conrad, I’m a psychic medium. I’m not a doctor or a shrink. I can only tell you what I see with my gift. Kotter Brighthouse is haunting Baxter and the park. Despite what you said during our last meeting, accusing me of being a scam artist and you offering money, which I refused, I’m here to help Baxter and your late husband. Kotter has something to say and feels that he can’t cross over until he’s said his piece.” Ten took a deep breath. He kept his eyes on Mary Lou, wanting to gauge her reactions to every word he said.
“And you’ve spoken to my dead husband, have you?” Mary Lou raised an eyebrow at Ten, but he wasn’t intimidated.
“Twice, as a matter of fact. The first time was in the Ferris wheel when we were at the top of the ride. Kotter showed me and my daughter his fall. When I spoke to him the second time, he asked for my help and said three things to me. My wife. Lost. Tilt. Do those words mean anything to you?”
Mary Lou and William looked at each other, but neither had a reaction to the words Kotter Brighthouse had spoken to him. “I was hiswife. Obviously, my husband hadlosthis mind, and I assume tilt is what the Ferris wheel car did when he jumped out of it.” William patted her hand but stayed silent. “With that, I suppose there’s nothing else left to say. Kotter’s spirit—” Mary Lou paused to make air quotes over the word. “—isn’t here, and before you upset my son again, I’d like you to leave.” She stood as if she were going to escort Ten and the others to the door.
Ten didn’t budge. “There’s one more thing.”
With a loud sigh, Mary Lou sat back down. “Let me guess. You know what happened to Jimmy Hoffa?”
William snickered briefly but stopped when Mary Lou whacked his knee.
Ten didn’t bother to answer the woman. What he had to say was much more important than bandying words around. “I told you I’ve spoken to Kotter twice, but it was what he told my daughter that lit a fire under us all.”
“Your daughter? The giggly little redhead? What is she, four years old?” Mary Lou shook her head. “I was wrong. Both you and my son belong in a mental facility where you can get the care you both obviously need. That poor little girl, living with a father like you.”
Ten felt Ronan tense beside him. He patted Ronan’s knee before turning back to Baxter. “Kotter told my daughter that he didn’t jump from the Ferris wheel. He was pushed.”
Baxter’s eyes widened. “What?”
“You really are out of your tree, Mr. Grimm. Park workers found my husband, dead, at the base of the wheel. He had injuries consistent with a fall from a great height. He’d been depressed for weeks and knew that at any moment, the police were going to knock on our door to arrest him for stealing the missing money. Kotter did the only other honorable thing and killed himself to save our family the embarrassment of him being arrested. I suppose I should thank him for sparing me the mess of taking a bath with razor blades or hanging himself from the tall maple in our backyard.”
Ten couldn’t believe the venom spilling out of Mary Lou’s mouth.
“Am I shocking you, Mr. Grimm? I was married to my husband for a lot of years. Not all of them were good. I’d lost whatever love I had for him after Baxter was born. Before he died, we were simply two people coexisting in the same household. We had separate bedrooms. Separate lives. He ran the park, I helped out with payroll and human resources. The police and the coroner ruled Kotter’s death a suicide. Losing him was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through in my life. Figuring out how to go on and raise my son under the magnifying glass of what my husband did wasn’t easy. Speculation ran rife for years about what happened to the money. If I’d had it, I would have used it to get me and my son out of the mess Kotter left us in.” Her hands came up to massage her temples. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a headache. I’d like you to leave.”
This time, it was William who stood, ready to usher them out the door.
“We’re going to look into your husband’s death, Mrs. Conrad,” Ronan said. “We’re cold case detectives. These kinds of cases are our bread and butter.” He turned to Baxter. “If you can think of anyone who had a beef with your father, owed him money, or something similar, please let me know.”
Baxter nodded. “I can’t thank you enough for your help.”
Mary Lou stayed where she was on the sofa. “Do what you have to, Mr. O’Mara. If by some strange twist of fate, my husband was murdered, then the person who killed him should be punished.”
As Mary Lou spoke, Ten watched her every move. She looked and sounded exhausted, but what shedidn’tsound was guilty. Ten might be wrong, but he didn’t think Mary Lou was the killer.
If Mary Lou didn’t kill Kotter Brighthouse, who the hell did?
17
Ronan
Ronan was woken from a light sleep when Fitzgibbon texted him at half past six. He somehow managed to get his hands on Kotter Brighthouse’s autopsy and the police report filed after his apparent suicide. He texted back to invite Fitz and Jude to breakfast.
The movable sleepover was back at Ronan’s house. He knew the kids would be up soon and would be hungry. He headed downstairs and started cracking eggs to scramble. Next, he got out the bacon and sliced open the package. A knock at the front door told him Fitz had arrived.
“Morning,” Ronan said, ushering not just Fitz but Jude into the house. “The kids are still asleep, so we have a little time to talk about Kotter Brighthouse. You guys want coffee?” Ronan went to the pot and filled it with water.
