The Summerhouse (The Summerhouse 1) - Page 98

“I didn’t realize it until later, but no one had ever looked at my story of the divorce with any logic. I think maybe my self-pity came through so strongly that no one could see anything but what I saw. And what I saw wasn’t the truth.”

“So what happened this time?” Leslie asked softly as she glanced toward Madison’s closed door. They had been careful not to say anything that would make Madison ask what they were talking about. They didn’t want Madison to be told anything about her previous life.

“Jessie,” Ellie said simply. “I helped him and he helped me.”

“Don’t tell me you solved a murder mystery?” Leslie asked in horror. “You didn’t endanger your life, did you?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I think I . . . we . . . did. Jessie said that we could do things that the police couldn’t, such as put a tap on Sharon’s telephone. Actually, it turned out that only I could do that because Jessie is a lawyer.”

“I thought . . .” Leslie said, then trailed off.

“That he lived off his billionaire brother?” Ellie asked, smiling. “Me too. But I found out that Jessie had left a lucrative practice in L.A. to work for his brother, and, well . . .” Ellie looked down at her shoe for a moment, then back at Leslie. “Let’s just say that Jessie may not be a billionaire, but he’s not poor, either. And I certainly don’t have to worry that he’s after the paltry bit of money that I earn.”

At that, Leslie squeezed Ellie’s hand and smiled at her. “I’m glad for you. So you illegally bugged a woman’s telephone, then what?”

“We found out that she had a lover and that all Lew’s money was inherited from his father, which meant that if they’d divorced, it would have been his sole property, not community property.”

“And she wouldn’t have received any of it,” Leslie said.

“Right. But she was his heir, so if Lew died, Sharon got everything. That was her motive, but we had to look for proof that she’d done it.” For a moment Ellie’s mouth twisted in disgust. “I didn’t like what Jessie did, but it worked, so everything turned out all right.”

Watching her, Leslie thought for a moment. “He made a play for her. She probably knew that Jessie was rich, so if she’d kill for money, she’d certainly marry for it.”

“Exactly,” Ellie said. “Jessie wanted to stage something like out of an Agatha Christie novel, where he gets her to confess while the police are hiding in the next room. I told him that that wasn’t very original, but he said that he wasn’t writing a book and trying to get good reviews, that he was just trying to catch a killer.”

“Seems he already knows you,” Leslie said, smiling.

“Not as well as he thinks,” Ellie answered. “Anyway, it worked. Two policemen and I hid behind a door while Jessie enticed Sharon into his house with a bottle of champagne for her and scotch for him; then he came on to her hard. However, the scotch he was drinking was actually tea. When she was getting tipsy, he shocked me by telling her how much he hated his rich brother. Within minutes, Sharon started planning ways for Jessie to murder Woody. She said it was easy and that the local police were too stupid to be able to tell a murder from a suicide. A few more glasses of champagne and she was bragging to Jessie how she’d sneaked up behind Lew and started kissing him. She said that he was so glad that she was no longer angry at him that he paid no attention when she wrapped his fingers around the handle of a forty-five.”

“I can believe that,” Leslie said. “When it comes to sex, men seem to have a one-track mind.”

“Poor Lew did. She shot him, then placed the blame on Bowie, who she knew was always skulking around outside their house. But Sharon confided to Jessie that she’d encouraged Bowie by undressing in front of an open window every night at the same time so Bowie would know when to appear to see the show.”

“Wow! So you and Jessie solved the murder. But what about your divorce?”

Ellie took a deep breath. “Through all of this I knew that the court date was fast approaching, but there was no way that I was going to leave Jessie alone.”

“Certainly not! After all, didn’t you say that Sharon was beautiful?”

“With five pounds of makeup on, she looked all right, but she was no Madison, that’s for sure.” Ellie’s words were laced with venom.

Looking down, Leslie smiled. “So did you miss the court date?”

“I hadn’t realized it, but all through the days we spent trying to sort out Lew’s death, Jessie had been asking me questions about the divorce. I had to fudge a bit about times and such because the things I knew about hadn’t really happened yet. I did not want to get into telling him about Madame Zoya.”

“I don’t blame you,” Leslie said. “But, in the end, you told him everything?”

“Pretty much. He was a good listener, and I was hungry to talk to someone, especially a lawyer. I know that what was done to me was morally wrong, but I’ve always felt that, legally, it was also wrong.”

Pausing, Ellie smiled. “Sharon was carted off to jail the night before I was to appear in court, and the next morning Jessie flew me down to L.A.—in his own plane, I might add—but we didn’t go into the courtroom. You see, I’d been looking at everything wrong. I thought that everyone had believed Martin and that’s why he was to be given everything. What has plagued me for these years is that my character was so maligned. But Jessie figured out the truth.”

“Tell me,” Leslie said breathlessly.

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“You remember that I told you Martin had taken a lot of money from me over the years?”

“Yes,” Leslie said. “Did you find the money?”

Tags: Jude Deveraux The Summerhouse Science Fiction
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