Hearts Through Time

TWENTY-THREE

In one week, Abby would be murdered.

Nick growled and raked his fingers through his hair, not feeling any closer to finding the killer than before. In his early years as a detective, he'd never investigated a murder, so this was still new to him. He had to find out who wanted Abby dead before it happened. He would never be able to live with himself if she died a second time.

Nick convinced Abby to let him borrow one of her father's motorcars. It only took a few minutes to figure out how the thing worked. Once on the road though, he cursed the blasted thing for not going fast enough. It would take all day to get to where he needed to be.

He'd dressed in one of the expensive suits Abby had purchased for him, and he even wore the ridiculous-looking hat. Then again, just about every man he saw wore such a hat. Nick had to fit in. Plus, he looked more professional than he did working at the newspaper, so perhaps he'd get more answers.

Nick had discovered that Alexander and Julie no longer lived in San Diego, but right here in Sacramento, so he drove to their home. As he parked in front of the two-story house, he realized Alexander must not have much money. Abby had told him as a ghost that her father had bought out his brother's stock in the newspaper. Apparently, no one had showed the adopted brother how to budget his funds. Chips of paint had crumbled from the house. The roof and broken-down porch were in desperate need of repair.

Nick knocked on the front door, shaking the hard wood on its hinges. After a few minutes, the door opened. A woman stood looking at him through a narrowed gaze. This was Alexander's wife, Julie. Nick remembered her from the cemetery.

He removed his hat and nodded. "Mrs. Carlisle?"

"Yes?"

"Hello, I'm Nick Marshal, attorney at law. I'm working with partners to investigate the Edward Carlisle estate. Will you allow me to ask you a few questions, please?"

Her gaze swept over him before a wide smile lit her face. She patted the back of her hair, which was pulled up in a messy bun, and opened the door wider. "Please, Mr. Marshal, come in. I would love to answer some questions."

As he looked at the dingy furniture and tattered rugs, Nick wondered how Julie could stand to live in squalor after living almost as grandly as Abby.

"Is your husband Alexander here?"

"No, he's at work." She motioned to the sofa. "Would you like to take a seat?"

He silently said a prayer of relief that Alex wasn't home. Alex would have recognized Nick from throwing him out of Abby's office the other day.

He sat on the edge of the sofa, entwined his fingers, and rested them on his knees. "Thank you for taking a moment to answer some questions."

She sat in the single-cushioned chair next to him. "Does this have anything to do with Alexander's lawsuit against Abigail Carlisle?"

Nick arched an eyebrow. So the man actually thinks he can get Abby's inheritance? Nick would show him otherwise. "Yes, ma'am, it does."

Julie squared her shoulders and swept the stray strands of hair away from her face. "What would you like to know, Mr. Marshal?"

As he studied her, Nick realized that if she took care of herself a little better, she would be a strikingly handsome woman. Perhaps she had been before the family had fallen on hard times.

"In your opinion, why shouldn't Miss Abigail Carlisle receive the majority of her father's estate, including The Sacramento Journal?"

"Well, mainly because the girl hasn't a clue how to run a newspaper. My husband ran it with his brother when they first started it. The newspaper should go to my husband. He deserves it, Mr. Marshal."