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Claire took a seat on the end of the sofa and curled her legs underneath her. She had a glass of white wine in front of her. Greer sat down on the other end of the sofa, and Dalton took the chair.
“I just had a few questions,” Greer began but then stopped. “How are you feeling?”
Claire stared at her.
“I’m sure you’re devastated by the loss of your husband. I was referring to the incident on the stairs last night. Are you okay?”
She shrank back into the sofa at the mention of the incident. “Yes, I’m fine. It was just so…shocking. Thank you again for saving me. It could have been a nasty spill.”
Greer gave the woman a tight smile. It wouldn’t have been a spill. She would’ve been dead or close to it. The staircase was long and quite steep. “Glad to hear that you suffered no lasting effects.” Dalton shot her a look, but she ignored it. She’d fill him in later. “Can you give me some insight into your husband’s demeanor and state of mind on the days leading up to coming here?”
Claire grabbed her glass of wine and took a healthy swig. “He was as he usually was, argumentative and stressed out.” She looked over the rim of the glass at Greer. “I know that doesn’t sound particularly nice, but it was true, and any of his friends would tell you as much. Dennis was a very driven man. He liked to be on top, which was what drove him to achieve the success he had, but it also was…unrelenting. He was driven in all areas of his life and expected those around him to be the same. It could be very tiring.”
Greer paused as she pondered how to phrase this next bit. “Did you notice any major changes in his behavior leading up to the trip?”
“No. He was his usual self.” She took another sip of wine.
“Did he tell you anything about his health?” Greer asked. She didn’t know if the polizei had already told her about the heart attack or not.
“He was as healthy as a horse. He ate stress for breakfast. Drank coffee, ate what he wanted, and spent half the day on the treadmill during his calls,” Claire said, waving her arm. “He was going to live forever.”
Dalton spoke in a quiet voice. “Richard said that Dennis told him his cholesterol was up and so was his blood pressure. Did he mention any of that to you?”
When Claire snorted, Greer realized the widow was not exactly sober.
“Richard,” Claire scoffed. “He would be the last person Dennis would tell. Dennis was about to fire him. He was royally pissed off with Richard. I have no idea what the project was, but Richard lost a ton of Dennis’s money, and Dennis was through with the man. He wanted Richard gone.” She hiccupped. “Told Richard he had to the end of the month to get the money back and kill the deal or Dennis was going to go to the cops.”
“He thought Richard did something illegal?” Greer asked.
She emptied her glass and held it out toward Dalton, who immediately got up—not without a pained wince, Greer noticed—and took the glass.
“It’s over there,” Claire said and pointed over her shoulder. Then she looked back at Greer. “What was the question? Oh, right. Illegal. Well, Dennis was super pissed. He told me he was sure that Richard had forged his signature on something. Normally, he didn’t give me details about his business dealings, but he was irate and yelling into the phone when I came into the bedroom. He hung up and threw it across the room. I asked what was wrong, and that’s when he told me.”
Dalton returned to the seating group and handed her the wine glass. She gave him an assessing look and then smiled her thanks, making sure to touch his hand. She also shifted so he could see down her top. Dalton smiled back as he went over to his seat. Greer wanted to roll her eyes but kept a serene expression on her face. It wasn’t her business. If he thought this hard-looking woman was attractive, what was it to her? She took a breath.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t offer you two anything.” Claire looked directly at Dalton. “Can I get you anything?”
It was a loaded question if Greer ever heard one. She gritted her teeth.
“No, I’m good thanks,” Dalton said with another smile.
“Getting back to Richard,” Greer prompted. “If Dennis was so angry with him, why did he bring him on this trip?”
She gulped her wine. “To keep an eye on him. Dennis knew if Richard was here, he would have a harder time stealing any more money.”
Dalton leaned forward. “Do you know anything about a new will? Richard mentioned today there might be recent changes to Dennis’s will.”
Claire froze. Her eyes narrowed. “Richard said that? There were no changes. Dennis would have told me if he changed his will.” She stared at Greer as if she were willing Greer to believe her. “He hated Richard. He wouldn’t tell that man anything.” Her tone had been so confident before, but now there was a detectable hint of doubt.
Greer had to change topics fast. “How did Dennis get along with Brian?”
Claire rolled her eyes. “Brian was a serious disappointment to Dennis. He needled Brian relentlessly.” She dropped her voice like a man’s, presumably to mimic Dennis Moore. “By the time I was your age, I’d already made my first hundred million.” She shook her head and took a sip of wine. “I used to feel bad for Brian.”
“Used to?” Dalton asked.
“In the end, Brian was just too damn whiny. It was hard to feel much sympathy lately. He needs to grow a backbone. Dennis yelled at him endlessly, and all he did was snivel and whine. Not the most attractive quality in a man.” She eyed Dalton once more.
“Do you know what they were fighting about on the tarmac before you all got on the jet to come here?” Dalton asked.
