The Butler's Daughter by Joyce Sullivan Page A

checking with every florist within a one-hundred-mile radius to ascertain who ordered the flowers. We can’t ignore the fact that your father was not in the house when the bomb went off.”
    Juliana’s face grew warm with indignation. “He was outside waiting for me and the baby!” She told the investigator about Cort’s ear infection and her father’s command that they arrive by midnight to surprise Ross and Lexi. “I did my best, but the drive was too much for Cort. We stopped in a motel near Utica.”
    The BCI investigator pressed on relentlessly. “The break-in at your condo yesterday suggests that someone isaware you’re caring for the Collingwoods’ son. Are you certain that no one on the estate other than your father, Ms. York and the Collingwoods was aware of the child’s true parentage?”
    â€œThere’s no way I can be absolutely certain, but we were all very careful. Whenever I visited the estate, I wore those pregnancy pads that actors use and pretended to be nauseous and tired so everyone would be convinced I was expecting.”
    Investigator Bradshaw nodded. “How were your living expenses provided to you?”
    â€œRoss gave me a check for two hundred thousand dollars and I set up an account at a bank in Cleveland,” she replied.
    â€œSo, the money didn’t come out of the household accounts that Mr. Nevins manages?”
    Juliana shook her head, adamant. “No. I’m sure Mr. Nevins would have been curious about such an arrangement. The check was from one of Ross’s business accounts.”
    At that, Hunter deigned to interrupt. He knew the BCI investigator had to ask his questions, but Juliana could use a moment to compose herself against the steady barrage. He could see fine blue veins beneath the pallor of her face. Had she eaten this morning? Why hadn’t he noticed?
    â€œIf the check came from one of Ross’s business accounts it’s possible that it came to the attention of Kendrick Dwyer, the chief financial officer, or David Younge, the controller,” he interjected. “More likely Younge as he would be responsible for the day-to-day spending.”
    â€œLooks like I’ll have a few more questions for Mr. Dwyer and Mr. Younge,” Investigator Bradshaw said dryly.
    Hunter rubbed his jaw, considering motives and opportunity. He’d already given the investigator copies of the alibis he’d gathered from the Collingwood Corporation’s senior management.
    â€œEither of them could have had their eye on the CEO position. And they both have the resources to hire assistance. Did the homeowners provide a description of the delivery person? Perhaps Ms. Goodhew will recognize the description.”
    â€œYes. We got a Caucasian, male, approximately five-foot-ten-inches tall, medium build, maybe midforties wearing blue coveralls and a blue ball cap. No distinguishing characteristics. Ring any bells?”
    â€œI’m afraid not,” Juliana said, her brow crumpling with worry.
    â€œFrom what you’ve told us, Investigator,” Hunter continued undaunted, “the bomb was either carried into the house concealed in the arrangement or the delivery man left a door or window unlocked so that someone could enter the house at a later time and plant the bomb.”
    Investigator Bradshaw loosened the blue-striped tie knotted at his throat. “That’s correct.”
    Hunter drummed his fingers on the scarred wooden table. “Was the home monitored by a security system?”
    â€œYes, but the homeowner said it was only used in the winter months when the house was unoccupied. Break-ins are rare in Severance. Most people leave their doors unlocked in the daytime.”
    â€œHas the Trace Evidence Section been able to determine what kind of explosives were used?”
    â€œUnfortunately, no. There was nothing left. All we know is that it was a high explosive. We’re still