Whisper of Bones (Widow's Island #3)(11)

Tessa handed her a business card and introduced herself and Logan.

Marybeth glanced at the card and stuffed it in her pocket. She pointed at Logan. “You’re Jane Sutton’s grandson.” She turned to Tessa, her face softening with pity. “And you’re Bonnie Flagg’s daughter. I’m sorry about your mother.”

Family and island connections were more important than jobs on Widow’s.

“I heard about Jason yesterday,” Marybeth said. “So I wasn’t surprised when you called.”

“Thank you for agreeing to speak with us,” Tessa said.

“I’m happy to help.” Marybeth waved to the crime scene tape strung across the doorway. “Can we go into the office? I didn’t want to go in without your permission.”

“Yes,” Tessa answered.

Tessa and Logan fell into step on each side of her, and they entered the outer office.

“I’d like you to see if anything is missing or misplaced,” Tessa began.

Marybeth removed her jacket and hung it on a coat-tree in the corner. She moved behind the desk, looked down at the half-open drawer, and frowned. “Were the files messy like this when you first saw them?”

“Yes, ma’am. Does the office normally look like this?”

Marybeth shot Tessa a steady, slightly insulted glare. “Do I look like I keep a sloppy office?”

“No, ma’am.” Tessa cleared her throat.

Marybeth scanned the desk and filing cabinets. “It might take days for me to go through all of these files and see if anything is missing. I will let you know as soon as I’m finished.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Tessa said. “I’m going to assign a deputy to help you. Do you know anyone who had a grudge against Jason McCoy?”

“Everyone who knew Jason had words with him. Pardon my French, but he was what people nowadays call a douchebag.” Marybeth pronounced the word carefully, as if it was unfamiliar. “He could not talk to a woman without making some asinine comment, and with other men, he was either a bully or all ‘nudge, nudge, wink, wink,’ if you know what I mean.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Logan snorted and covered a grin. “You don’t seem to be upset about his death.”

Marybeth sat behind the desk. “That man was his own worst enemy. I was always telling him that honey draws more bees than vinegar, but he seemed determined to make people hate him. Any tears shed for him will be fake.”

“What about his wife?” Logan asked.

Marybeth’s head moved back and forth in a slow disapproving shake. “She was young enough to be his daughter. She married him for his money, and when he tightened the purse strings, she threw a hissy fit.”

What a horrible life, Logan thought. “You don’t think she loved him?”

“I don’t think they loved each other. Jason liked the way she looked on his arm. Sarah was an accessory that made him feel successful, like a Rolex or an expensive car. She likes jewelry, travel, and nice clothes. As long as those things remained in balance, their marriage was exactly what each of them expected. I don’t think either of them had any illusions of true love.”

Tessa pulled out her notepad. “When was the last time you saw Jason?”

“Monday morning when I came to the office. I work from eight to twelve on weekdays.” Marybeth pointed toward the inner office. “He was making calls and answering emails when I left at noon.”

Tessa wrote down the information. “Did he seem upset about anything?”

Marybeth nodded. “He was worried about money. His current project is nearly complete, and there was no work in the pipeline.”

“Was that unusual?” Logan leaned on the wall.

“It’s happened before, but it always upset him. This is a small island. The available work is limited. Luckily, Jason was a very skilled carpenter, which was the reason most people put up with his shenanigans. He could usually find work eventually.”

Logan thought about a tightening cash flow. “Did Jason owe anyone money?”

“Maybe,” Marybeth said. “He fired Peter Evans two weeks ago. Peter was the crew leader. Jason said that Peter was stealing materials—lumber, nails, et cetera. Jason refused to pay him for his last two weeks of work, claiming that it was payment for the stolen goods.”

“Did Jason offer any proof?” Tessa asked.

Marybeth shook her head. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask Peter, but Jason didn’t press charges.”

“How did Peter handle being fired?” Tessa asked.

“Not well,” Marybeth said. “He threatened to beat up Jason if he didn’t pay him.”

Which made Peter Evans a suspect.

Tessa asked, “Do you have Peter’s address?”

“Yes.” Marybeth wrote on a notepad and handed the paper to Tessa.

A beam of winter sunlight streamed through the window. Logan squinted against the glare. “What was the last job Jason was finishing up?”

Marybeth paused to take a long breath. “The renovation of the old Smuggler’s Point Farm property. It’s being turned into an inn.”

“Didn’t that used to be an orchard?” Logan asked. “I remember picking apples there when I was a kid.”