When he said nothing more, Sara said, “What was found?”
“I can’t tell you. I want to, but I can’t risk—” He stopped talking.
“Her connection to Sylvia Alden?” Sara asked.
The sheriff’s eyes lit up. “Exactly! In the last twenty-four hours I’ve heard her name a thousand times. I think she has something to do with this, but no one will listen to me. How do you think they’re connected?”
“That’s a question we should ask you,” Jack said.
“I got so sick of hearing her name that I called Sylvia’s family.” He reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a piece of paper, and put it on the coffee table. “I knew her. She was a lovely woman, so tall and slim and gracious to everyone. She and Tom used to put on the best parties. The food... I always ate far too much.” For a moment he stared into the distance in memory. “Then Tom died and Sylvia withdrew into herself.”
Sheriff Flynn shrugged. “When Janet came
to town, they started hanging out together, and that was the end of all Sylvia’s outside social life.”
“You think they were lovers?” Kate asked.
The sheriff gave a snort. “You young kids. It’s never friendship—it’s always sex. No, I don’t think they were.” He paused. “Evie said—” He looked at Kate. “She’s my wife. High school sweethearts.”
“With a penchant for the back seat of an old Jeep,” Kate said.
He looked at Sara. “She’s Randal’s daughter, all right. Doesn’t miss a thing. Anyway, years ago, Evie said that there was something unusual between those two. I asked if she meant a friendship bond. Evie said that whatever it was, it was very, very strong.”
“Have you recently asked her what she meant?” Sara asked.
“I did. She said it just seemed like Sylvia and Janet had to be together. Couldn’t bear to be parted.”
“What happened when you called Sylvia’s family?” Sara asked.
“It took a while to get to a person who knew her. I had to go through three household staff, all the way up to the butler. Who has a butler nowadays?”
No one answered him.
“So finally, I got Sylvia’s older brother on the phone. He was a real bastard. Very cold. Said that his sister had turned her back on her family when she married. And the way she’d passed was an embarrassment to them. He was going to hang up on me, but I asked if he could give me the name and number of Tom’s family. He said that they knew nothing about that man. Then he hung up.” Sheriff Flynn looked at them in silence.
Kate spoke up. “In essence, Mrs. Alden had no real family except her husband, and after he died, she had no one. Mrs. Beeson must have been a godsend to her.”
“Any children?” Sara asked.
“A daughter, Lisa. Married a lawyer named Wellman. They live in Boston, no kids. I didn’t contact her, but the fact that no one in Lachlan seems to have ever met the daughter says a lot.”
“I’m beginning to see why Sylvia killed herself,” Kate said. “She must have been miserable. Do you know if she was ill?”
“Her doctor said no.”
“How does all this connect to Janet Beeson’s murder?” Jack asked.
“No idea,” Sheriff Flynn said. “But we hit a dead end with Janet. No passport. As far as we can tell, she gave a false birth certificate to get a Florida driver’s license.”
“She was hiding,” Kate said.
“Sounds like they both were,” Sara said. “Sylvia ran off with Tom—that man as her family called him—and Janet was hiding from...” She looked up.
“From someone who finally caught up with her,” Jack said.
“Is it possible that the same person who killed Janet also killed Sylvia?” Sara asked.
“Very possible,” Daryl said. “The autopsy showed that Sylvia died of oleander poison. It was ground up and put over a plate of spicy food.”