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“Frank told me that if something happened to him, I was to give you that envelope,” Sharon said to Georgia. “I knew something was very wrong. I knew him for too many years not to be able to tell. I asked him if he needed the police. He said that he might, but he didn’t want to make a formal report in case he was wrong. I told him that he could trust Henry Whitfield, that Henry came to visit me regularly. So he sat down where you’re sitting now and wrote a second letter longhand.” She sighed. “Frank always had a gut feeling for danger. It kept him alive for thirty-seven years on the force. I guess his luck ran out,” she finished sadly. “I wish I’d known earlier that Frank had been killed. I would have made sure you and Henry got the letters sooner. Would you open yours? And read it if you can?”
Georgia opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. It was typed, having come from a printer. Sam scanned the letter over Georgia’s shoulder, his heart beating faster with every word.
“ ‘Dear Georgia,’ ” Georgia read in a voice that trembled. “ ‘If you’re reading this, I’m dead. I always thought people who wrote those words were overly dramatic, but here we are. Cutting to the chase, if I’ve been murdered, Roxanne Beaton is my killer. She’s been cozying up to Benny and I got suspicious. No woman in her late forties is going to cozy up to a man in his eighties unless money’s involved. At first, I thought she wanted Benny’s coin collection. Benny slipped and told me that she’d seen it. He thinks that she loves him. When I told him that I suspected her, he got angry with me. I know you noticed that Benny and I have been arguing. I figured I’d prove it to him, so I’ve set out to woo the bitch. I have more money than Benny, so I figured she’d be more interested in me. I did some investigating and discovered that she’s worse than a coin thief. I believe that she’s a black widow.
“ ‘I considered going to SDPD with my theory, but there is a small chance that I might be wrong. And if I am wrong and word gets back to Benny, he’ll be even more upset with me. I don’t want to hurt him any more than I already have.
“ ‘Anyway, Roxanne’s been married four times and all four of her husbands met a quick end. Could have been natural causes, but nobody is that unlucky—or lucky, as the case might be. I’ve listed the names of each of her husbands below. It’ll give SDPD a place to start, because there might be more.
“ ‘I figured that if Roxanne thought I was interested, she’d drop Benny and he’d be safe. I was married once before to a woman, so I’ve let it slip to Roxanne that I’m bi. For the record, that’s not true. She’s starting to take the bait. She’s been visiting me in my apartment, bringing me baked goods and wine, even offering me sexual favors. But last night Benny saw her leaving my place, and now he thinks I’m stealing her from him. I let him think it, because I wanted him to get angry enough to cut ties with her. But Roxanne is far from stupid. I think she’s checking me out, too.
“ ‘I know that I’m walking a fine line, but I have to admit, it’s exhilarating. Like I’m a cop again. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.
“ ‘I’m planning to ask her to marry me soon. It will be a hush-hush wedding, and then I’ll start checking my food for poison or drugs. In my experience, that’s how these black widows kill. Once I have the evidence needed to put her away for good, I’ll share it with SDPD and let them take it from there.
“ ‘However, if you’re reading this, everything’s gone from sugar to shit, as we used to say on the force. Be well, dear friend, and take care of yourself and the others for me. Tell Eloise to keep cheating at cards. Tell Benny that he’ll always be my brother and that I know he didn’t mean the things he said, because I know his words are haunting him right now. Yours always, Frankie Flynn.’ ”
Georgia lowered the letter to her lap, her hands shaking. “Sam.”
“I know,” Sam murmured. “Kit doesn’t know about the dead husbands.” Or if she did, she hadn’t yet shared it with him. “But Frankie was also right about the coins.”
Sharon and Gerald were staring at them, mouths agape. “That’s the woman who killed him?” Sharon asked. “Do you know who he’s talking about?”
“We do,” Georgia said. “And the detective on this case has her suspicions about Roxanne, too.” She looked up at Sam. “Please send this to Detective McKittrick’s email, right now. I don’t want to wait until Henry Whitfield reads his letter and shares it with SDPD. I want that dreadful woman to be arrested now.”
Agreeing wholeheartedly, Sam took the letter from her hands and photographed it, emailing it to Kit and cc’ing himself and Georgia. He then placed it back into the envelope and slipped it into Georgia’s hand.
Georgia’s focus was on Sharon. “Thank you. This will help the police punish the woman who took him from us.”
Sharon sighed. “At least he and Ryan are together again. And Benny,” she added sadly. “I’d like to come to their funerals, but I can’t leave here.”
Gerald met his mother’s gaze and held it for several heartbeats. “I’d like to come to his funeral,” he finally said. “If you’re okay with that, Mom.”
“Record it,” she said, her voice now only a whisper. “Sorry. I’m tired. I need to sleep now.”
Georgia rose from the chair, grimacing in pain. She held Sam’s arm so tightly that he thought he’d have bruises, but he never said a word of protest.
Sam smiled at Gerald. “I hope to see you on Sunday for his service.”
Sam escorted Georgia to the lobby, where he helped her to a chair. “Siggy, sit. I need to call Kit.”
Georgia opened the envelope and read the letter again. “Yes, you do.”
He got Kit’s voice mail and left a terse message. “Check your email. Frankie left your evidence with his ex-wife. I’ve sent you a photo of the letter.” He ended the call and checked the time. It was only six forty-five. Someone had to still be in the office.
He first called Connor’s cell phone, then Navarro’s, getting voice mails on both. He left them messages. He called Kit’s cell once more, but there was still no answer, so he put his phone away.
“Let’s get you back, Georgia. You look like you need a nap.”
Georgia slid the letter back into the envelope and put it into her purse. “I think I need better earplugs because Eloise has been keeping me awake.”
“I can borrow a wheelchair to get you to the car.”
Her chin lifted. “You will do no such thing.”
Sam sighed. “Fine. Let’s go.” He helped her to the car and buckled her into the passenger seat before opening the hatch. “Siggy, in.” The dog jumped in and curled up to sleep. Sam leaned against his car wearily, pulling out his phone to try Kit one more time.
He waited while her cell rang, grimacing when he got her short, no-nonsense request to leave a message. “Kit, it’s Sam. Call me. It’s…more than important.”
