Free Dead for the Money by Peg Herring Page B

an accident. He had come to the Dunbar home on a fishing expedition.
    “Mr. Dunbar—”
    The man who occupied the desk smiled slightly. “I was Bud when we were in school together, Frank.”
    The man’s feet shifted. “Well, this is business, so I thought I’d keep things businesslike.”
    “All right.” Bud laced his fingers atop the open album. “What can I do for you, Officer Reiner?”
    “Um, it came to my attention—I mean, I heard some things—”
    Bud’s chin lifted a little. “What things?”
    Seamus felt Reiner’s defensiveness and caught a name, Arnold . “It wasn’t like anybody was tryin’ to do you dirt or anything. Word is you and your grandfather had some problems.”
    “I spoke with the detective about that. It was nothing serious.”
    “You wanted to sell the company, and he didn’t.”
    “Something like that.” Dunbar’s gaze challenged Reiner to make more of it.
    “I wondered—” Reiner shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t as easy as he’d imagined, Seamus sensed, looking a man in the eye and accusing him of murdering a helpless relative. “Why did you want to sell?”
    “I thought the business had gotten to be too much for Gramps and he’d do better without the worry of it.”
    “Are things going downhill?”
    Bud sighed softly but answered politely enough. “As you know, our company makes electrical parts. We have reached a time when those parts will soon become obsolete. I proposed that we get out of the business while we could still sell at a profit. There is a prospective buyer who will retool the whole complex and shift production to more modern manufacturing.”
    “You couldn’t do that yourselves?”
    “We could. But I had no interest, and Gramps—he was too old to start over.”
    Seamus sensed Reiner’s doubt. “You didn’t want to manage the company anymore?”
    “No.” It was a refusal to go into more detail.
    Reiner’s thoughts centered mostly on disbelief that anyone would voluntarily give up a job with such prestige, not to mention the remuneration. “How, um, how serious did the arguments get?”
    Passing a hand through his hair, Bud met Reiner’s gaze. “Not serious at all, Frank. I brought it up a couple of times, Gramps said he didn’t want to sell, and I dropped it.”
    “And now that you have control?”
    Dunbar’s eyes went a shade darker. “I will do what I think is best for everyone involved, as I did when Gramps was alive.” He rose from the chair. “Now unless there is something specific you need, I have a lot to take care of before the funeral.”
     
     
    F ROM HER HIDING SPOT under the stairs, Brodie heard it all. Reiner did not close the door, which made it easy. Other times, she’d had to creep up and put her ear to the door, and at those times she heard only bits and pieces. Now she heard everything and even saw the anger on Bud’s face when Reiner went too far with his insinuations.
    She didn’t like Reiner, but then she didn’t like cops. She’d had dealings with a few over the years, and they had no sense of humor at all.
    It had been a sheriff’s deputy, although not this one, who caught her on the night Arlis had thrown a Halloween fundraiser for UNICEF. It was in the B.S. days, Before Scarlet. Brodie had no objections to the fundraiser, but Arlis had been a pain, lecturing her on how eleven-year-old girls were ladies and should behave accordingly when guests were present. And she had arranged dumb activities like a hay ride and some really lame games. In Brodie’s mind, a Halloween party should include scary stuff, so she borrowed Arlis’ cloak, which had to be from 1965, and made up her face to look all bloody and beaten. When it was time for the guests to arrive, she’d made her way up the long drive and chosen a spot that was tree-lined and dark. When a car turned into the driveway, she staggered out in front of it, gasping and moaning. She only got to do it a few times before the cops arrived and spoiled