Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92668 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92668 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Mum laughed as she sat down. “Hardly. He sounds like a right bastard. If you ask me, he got what he deserved, and so did Stephanie, it seems.”
“You’d think. She said he doesn’t have a will, so she stands to get everything as his next of kin, but that includes all the lawsuits.” I reached for my glass. “I just can’t see her killing him. She didn’t seem to be very happy about getting it all. She has to buy out his business partner, settle the lawsuits, and she doesn’t even want the business. She plans to sell it.”
“So she says,” Dad pointed out. “If he was making their divorce difficult, like she said, it’s definitely the easy way out. She’s coming out with far more than she would otherwise. It sounds like he fully controlled her life, and she might not have been able to hire a lawyer. At least not one that could compete with his.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then quickly changed my mind.
Dad was right.
“This is very true,” Mum said, pointing her fork in Dad’s direction. “He essentially groomed her into marriage, then controlled every aspect of her life, by the sounds of things. Domestic violence victims can and do kill their abusers if they think it’s their only way out.”
“But why at the bed and breakfast?” I asked, putting my fork down. “Why would she do it there? If it was at their house, then sure, but what reason would she have to kill him there?”
“Maybe he wasn’t killed there,” Dad answered. “Just taken there.”
I shook my head. “No way. If he was already dead, there’d have been signs, I think. The only place there was any blood was in the sunroom.”
“Lovely discussion for dinner,” Mum quipped.
“You brought it up originally.”
Dad laughed, reaching for his glass of wine. “Bet you’re regretting that one, darling.”
Mum shot him a dark look. “You have no idea.”
I spun some spaghetti on my fork and ate it, chewing thoughtfully. When I was done, I said, “So, you still think she could have done it?”
Mum nodded, adding more parmesan to her meal. “Thirteen times is a lot of times to stab someone, so it’s probably a crime of passion, which means it was likely someone close to him. According to what I’ve learnt from the hours I’ve put into true crime documentaries, that’s most likely to be his wife.”
“The police should hire you, darling,” Dad said with a grin.
Mum shot him a flat look that loosely translated to, “Shut the fuck up.”
I’d been on the end of that particular look a few times.
“He also had a lot of issues with his business partner.” I gave them a rundown of what happened with Alan, plus a quick recap of Guy Quinn and Michael Swann’s issues with him. By the time I was done, we’d all finished eating, shared the last of the wine into our glasses, and moved to sit on the patio in the back garden.
Dad blew out a breath. “Sounds like Declan Tierney pissed off a whole lot of people, and they’d all have a valid reason to want him dead, don’t you think?”
“Sure did,” Stan said, leaning on the fence that separated the gardens.
I jumped, pressing my hand to my chest. “Christ, you scared the life out of me.”
He chuckled. “Sorry, lass.”
“Did you know him?” Mum asked, turning to look at Stan. “I’d imagine your paths crossed in your line of work.”
“Aye, sure did. Not long ago, in fact. Last week.” He disappeared quickly beneath the fence line then reappeared with a beer can in his hand. “He inherited some of those semi-detached houses in the cul-de-sac off Oak Road. He rents ’em out, and they were due their annual electrical checks. He had some tenants move out, so I got that house done first ’cause he had a couple viewings that afternoon. Went back to give him the certificates after doing all the others, and he was havin’ a right bust up with his business partner.”
Interesting.
“What about?” Dad asked, moving his chair over so he was closer to us.
The other man sipped his beer. “The house. Alan wanted to sell it, but Declan said no.”
“Ooh. Why’d he want to sell it?” Mum was like a kid in a sweet shop, practically bouncing in her chair.
Ah, well.
At least she was smiling again.
“He wanted out,” Stan replied. “Weren’t a secret, like. Alan’s been tryin’ to get Declan to buy him out for yonks. Alan had other people lined up for his share and everything, but Declan had to sign off on it all and wouldn’t do it. Wanted it all or nothing, he said.”
Even more interesting—their issues weren’t a secret.
“So what did he want, then?” Dad asked. “To sell the house and have Declan use some of that money to buy him out?”