Framed for Murder Read online

  Chapter 8

  Yesterday morning, I had been worried about my ex-husband’s murder. Today, I was worried about being the chief suspect in his murder investigation. As I drove into Calgary, I thought how precarious was the life I had worked so hard to build for myself after the divorce. I had everything that I needed: a house, a job I could count on, a few good friends, a dog to keep me company, and the book club. Ben was doing just fine, too. But if the unthinkable happened and I was convicted of Jack’s murder, I would be put in prison for a good long time and Ben would be labelled the son of a killer. Even if I wasn’t convicted, some of the people in Crane might always believe that I had killed Jack. They might even treat it as a joke, as Clive had done at The Diner. That would be unbearable, people winking at me and gossiping behind my back. And what if the people at the university found out? Would I have to give up my job and start over again somewhere else?

  My earlier life had been totally different. I had arrived in Toronto at the age of eighteen to pursue a career in acting. I had left behind my parents and everyone else I’d known in the small lakeside community I’d grown up in, determined to make a success of myself no matter what people had thought. “Anna is so shy. Anna is such a loner. How could she possibly go on the stage?” everyone, even my parents, had asked.

  I’d enrolled in a college acting class where Jack happened to be the teacher. Ten years older than I was, and with an established stage career, he had been magnificent. Handsome, charismatic, self-assured, he’d swaggered about the stage impressing the hell out of us students. I was totally besotted, and couldn’t believe my luck when Jack started flirting with me. To this day, I never knew what attracted him to me. We got together after the course ended and, well, sparks flew, the earth shook, and all of those other clichés. I was deliriously happy; not only did this gorgeous man love me, but he introduced me to important directors and actors that I had previously only admired from my seat in the audience.

  We married less than six months after we started dating, me in a tea-length white dress with flowers in my hair, and Jack in a suit without a tie. My parents warned me against marrying so quickly and to a man with such an unstable career, but I dismissed their concerns as petty. After all, my father had never approved of my frivolous acting ambitions, and my mother didn’t even have a job, so what did they know about life? I was going to follow my dreams.

  The first year of married life had been bliss. Jack and I both got acting jobs, and we’d meet up at a bar or a restaurant after our shows and stay out all night with our friends. I adored my husband, I felt privileged to be working as an actress, and I had the freedom to do whatever I pleased. My spirits were flying, but I fell back to earth the second year of our marriage when I discovered that Jack was cheating on me. When I confronted him about the affair, Jack actually got down on his knees, tears streaming down his face, and swore that it would never happen again. I was devastated, but I had seen for myself that women were attracted to Jack like bees were to pollen. He was a passionate man exposed to a lot of temptation, and he had made a big mistake. Was I going to break up our marriage over a single mistake? I admit that I went crazy for about a month after I found out, but we eventually patched things up and got on with it, albeit a little less joyfully than before.

  When Ben came along, however, it became apparent that we couldn’t sustain our carefree lifestyle. Someone was going to have to provide stability for our child, and it made sense that that somebody should be me, at least until I could restart my acting career. That’s what I told myself, anyway.

  For the first fifteen years of his life, Ben and I followed Jack across the country while he pursued acting opportunities and I tried to make a string of apartments feel like home to our small family. Unfortunately, Jack also had access to a steady stream of pretty young actresses. After a series of humiliations, I finally realized that my husband’s cheating wasn’t going to stop. I had a choice to make, and I decided that a bruised ego was of little consequence compared to the hardship and disgrace of raising my son on welfare. So, I decided to ignore Jack’s dalliances as long as he didn’t rub my nose in them. Fortunately my husband was a consummate liar, and his stories didn’t become insultingly transparent until the latter part of our marriage.

  Well, that segment of my life was over and done with, and I had done pretty well for myself since leaving Jack. Now my new, precious little life was threatened, and I felt both frightened and angry. It just wasn’t fair. How could a dead ex-husband jeopardize everything? I felt powerless to do anything to help myself. The real world wasn’t anything like it was in Agatha Christie’s books where Miss Marple could solve murders simply by observing human nature, or Poirot by using his little grey cells. I fumed about it as I parked my car and stomped into the university.

  My work day began with a two-hour computer training session, the result of a recent software upgrade, and I wasn’t back at my desk until eleven. I was just going through my e-mail when I heard Magdalena’s door open across the hallway and a familiar voice said, “Thank you for taking the time to see me, Dr. Lewis.” I looked up and saw Tremaine standing in her doorway, shaking Magdalena’s hand.

  “My pleasure, Sergeant Tremaine,” she said. Her eyes met mine across the hallway. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help with the investigation. We all want this to be over as quickly as possible for Anna.” Following the direction of her eyes, Tremaine turned to look at me while Magdalena closed her door. I beckoned for him to come into my office, and waited to shut the door behind him before turning to confront him.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, practically spitting, I was so mad. It had never occurred to me that Tremaine would question my boss. I didn’t want her finding out the sordid details of my personal life from the police.

  “Anna, I told you that I would be questioning your associates,” he replied, leaning against my desk, perfectly calm.

  “Yes, but what’s she got to do with this case?” I asked.

  “Often it’s the people at work who know you best.”

  “Magdalena doesn’t know anything about Jack. I’ve never spoken to her about my marriage.”

  “I apologize if you’re upset by this intrusion into your professional life, but this is a homicide investigation.”

  “Yes, you keep saying that.”

  Just then, the door burst open and Ben stormed in. He stopped dead when he spotted Tremaine and stared at him with open hostility. “What are you doing here, Tremaine?” he demanded.

  I turned to the sergeant. “You know Ben? You’ve already spoken to him?”

  “Oh yeah, Mom. He came to the house at seven thirty this morning and woke up me and my roommates. We all had to troop down to the kitchen to answer a bunch of questions. It took so long, I was almost late for work. When I got there, my boss asked me to make a delivery, but I detoured here first to tell you about it.”

  We both glared at Tremaine. If he felt nervous being trapped between an irate mother and her hostile son, he showed no sign of it.

  “Thank you again for your time this morning, Ben,” he said. “I thought that you’d prefer answering my questions at home rather than coming down to the station. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I have other business to attend to.” He waited for Ben to stand aside before strolling out the door. Ben watched him leave before turning back to me.

  “He’s a cool bastard, I’ll give him that. Now, what’s all this about an insurance policy?”

  I explained about the two insurance policies Jack and I had bought when he was born, and how his father had held onto his and left me as the beneficiary. Ben frowned and said, “Gee, that doesn’t sound so good. You’d better be careful around this guy. He was asking some pretty loaded questions this morning, you know? He even asked me where I was on the night Dad was killed, and asked the guys to confirm the time I got home.”

  I felt a knot of anxiety inside my chest. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have called you
last night to warn you about Tremaine. It just didn’t occur to me that he would show up at your house this morning. That was stupid of me – of course, he’ll begin by questioning everyone who was connected with your father. Don’t worry, I’m sure that he doesn’t seriously suspect you.” In my heart, I prayed that he didn’t, anyway.

  “Especially since I was out with Tracy that night. We saw a movie, got some pizza, and were home by midnight.”

  “Tracy? Who’s Tracy?” I asked, a silly grin plastered across my face. Whoever she was, I blessed her for giving my son an alibi for the night Jack was murdered.

  “Never mind Tracy – she’s a girl I just started seeing. I’m worried about you, Mom. The way Tremaine was talking, I think he really suspects you.” Ben came close and hugged me to his chest. I was surprised; usually he gave me a peck on the cheek or a pat on the back. I hugged him back, and then loosened my grip to look up into his face.

  “Hey, honey, don’t look so worried,” I said. “The insurance policy was a big shock to me, too, but it doesn’t prove anything. The police can’t ignore the evidence just because I happen to have a motive for killing your father. For one thing, the timing doesn’t work. I was at the book club for a good chunk of the three hours the coroner set as the time of death. And another thing – the police said your father’s body was moved. Well, the forensics cop practically had his nose to the upholstery of my car yesterday, and I know he didn’t find any evidence of a body.

  Ben’s eyes bugged out. “The police looked at your car?”

  “And the house, too. It was all voluntary. Don’t worry about it. Letting the police check out the house and the car will help to clear my name. They won’t find any evidence against me because there isn’t any.” Ben shook his head, not looking very convinced.

  “And another thing – when they find the murder weapon, the police will be able to trace it back to the murderer, right? So everything will work out fine, you’ll see. It’s just scary right now because Sergeant Tremaine suspects everyone at this stage, but he has to. It’s his job. Give him some time. I’m sure that he’ll find the right person in the end.

  Ben frowned. “I sure hope so. And I’m sorry about all of this. Dad’s still making trouble for you, even after he’s dead. He probably got killed by some woman he dumped or by somebody’s jealous husband. I bet he had it coming to him, whoever it was.”

  I sighed. I hated to hear Ben talk that way about his father, even if he were right. But, knowing Jack, a rejected lover or a jealous husband was the most likely killer.

  I got Ben calmed down and out of my office only to have Magdalena pop in. “Anna, may I see you in my office, please?” she asked. I got up from my desk and followed her in, my stomach tightening. This was not a good day for my stress levels.

  “Please have a seat,” she said, indicating the chair before her desk. I sat down while she closed the door and took her place behind the desk. “Sergeant Tremaine told me about the murder investigation.”

  “I see,” I said, swallowing nervously.

  “Yes. I suppose that you were too overwhelmed to speak to me about it just yet?” I couldn’t miss the sarcasm in her voice.

  “I had hoped that the investigation would be confined to Crane and wouldn’t interfere with work,” I replied. “I’m sure you understand how much I’d like to keep this investigation private, Magdalena. Jack’s murder had nothing to do with me, really.”

  “Except that whoever killed him wanted you to find his body.” I stared at her, flabbergasted by her words. She studied me for a moment. “I assume by your expression that the thought hadn’t occurred to you?”

  “N-no, it hadn’t. But that isn’t necessarily true, is it?”

  “Think about it,” my boss said, leaning forward on her elbows. “Sergeant Tremaine said that you usually follow the same route when you walk your dog at night. He also said that your ex-husband’s body had been moved after he was killed. Therefore, whoever killed him moved the body to a place where you and your dog would be sure to find it.” She relaxed back into her chair. “I wonder why? It poses some interesting questions, doesn’t it?”

  I shook my head, feeling like an idiot. She was probably right about the murderer leaving the body where I would find it, but I hadn’t made the connection before. I would have to think about that some more when I was alone. “I don’t know what to tell you, except that I’m sorry Tremaine sprung it all on you,” I said.

  She shrugged. “Of course, if it affects you, I want to hear about it. By the way, the sergeant asked me some questions about you. Would you like to know what they were?”

  “Yes, please.” I had really wanted to know what the two of them had said about me, but I couldn’t think of a way to ask Magdalena.

  “Let’s see,” she said, staring off into space while she collected her thoughts. “He began by asking about your work habits. I told him that you were reliable. Then he asked if I had overheard any telephone conversations or observed anything to indicate that you were in contact with your ex-husband. I told him no. Finally, he asked if I was acquainted with your son. I told him that I had met him once, but very briefly. That was the gist of it.”

  “That’s all? That’s not much,” I said, delighted with my boss’s discretion. Tremaine wouldn’t find anything damning in that tidy little exchange.

  She considered me. “I’m sure that this investigation must be quite stressful for you. Do you require any time off work?”

  “Thank you for asking, but no, not at this point. Of course, they’re sure to call me as a witness when there’s a trial.”

  “Very likely. Well, please keep me informed of any disruptions to your work schedule.”

  “Yes, I’ll do that, Magdalena, and thank you again, very much.”

  “You’re welcome.” She pulled a file from her desk tray, and I gathered that I was dismissed. As I stood, Magdalena looked up at me. “Sergeant Tremaine seems very astute and cautious. I’m sure that he will exhaust all possible avenues of investigation before coming to a conclusion.”

  What was this? Was she trying to reassure me? “Yes, he seems to know what he’s doing,” I responded.

  She nodded before returning her attention to the file. I left her office feeling a little better; at least Magdalena seemed to be on my side. Perhaps there was an upside to this horrible mess after all.