Kissed a Sad Goodbye

cabinets, a black-enameled fan oscillated with a gentle whirring.
    After the fan, Gemma almost expected a Bakelite, rotary-dial phone on the desk, but a glimpse of the state-of-the-art unit tucked away behind Reg’s Rolodex booted her swiftly back into the current decade.
    As if he’d read her thoughts, Kincaid told Mortimer, “I see you’ve managed to update things a bit in the old building. Was this Annabelle’s office?”
    “No. Annabelle shared the one next door. It’s been hard on Teresa, the last few days. The constant eminder... I don’t think I could bear...” Mortimer shook his head. “We’ve always been short of office space here—that’s one of the problems with this drafty old pile of brick. That and the damp,” he added absently, and Gemma had the impression he was talking on autopilot while his mind was somewhere else entirely.
    “There are just a few things we’d like to go over with you, Mr. Mortimer,” Kincaid said. “Were you aware that Annabelle had left her shares in the company to Harry and Sarah Lowell, naming their father as trustee?”
    Gemma pulled her notebook unobtrusively from her bag as she watched Mortimer’s response. Although he didn’t quite mask a grimace, he answered readily enough, and she thought he must have been prepared.
    “I’d no idea until yesterday. Teresa and I are meeting with the solicitor this afternoon, to see if there is anything that can be done.”
    “So you share Jo Lowell’s opinion that her ex-husband is likely to be difficult?”
    “I’ve nothing against Martin Lowell personally. But we would be concerned at the idea of anyone without direct experience of the business controlling a large block of voting shares. I’m sure you can understand that,” Mortimer said smoothly.
    Gemma looked up from her notes. “Don’t you find it odd that your fiancée didn’t share something as important as the disposition of her assets with you?”
    Mortimer tilted his chair back a bit and reangled the pen on his blotter. “Annabelle was rather obsessive about her privacy. And in any case, I’m sure it’s not something she thought would be necessary to discuss,” he added, his expression bleak.
    “Perhaps she meant to wait until you were married, then sign them over to you,” Gemma suggested.
    “Trying to predict what Annabelle might have done seems a particularly fruitless exercise.”
    Spotting her opening, Gemma said, “Had Annabelle changed her mind about your engagement? Is that what your argument was about on Friday evening?”
    Mortimer paled visibly. “What—what are you talking about? Of course she hadn’t changed her mind. I’ve told you—she wasn’t feeling well.”
    “That’s funny,” Kincaid said, picking it up. “Jo Lowell says the two of you had a row, and that you waited for Annabelle in the lane, not even saying good night to your hostess. I don’t believe you’d have behaved so rudely unless you’d had a disagreement.”
    Mortimer glanced from Kincaid to Gemma. “It sounds so utterly stupid now.” His eyes filled with tears and he brushed at them with the back of his hand. “And there’s no taking any of it back, the things we said....”
    “Everyone has stupid rows,” said Gemma, very deliberately not looking at Kincaid. “And if we’re lucky we get to make them up. Don’t let this grow out of proportion because you didn’t.”
    A faint color rose in Reg’s cheeks. “All right,” he said after a moment. “Annabelle was furious because she thought Jo was flirting with me.... I told you it was idiotic.”
    “Was Jo flirting with you?” Kincaid asked. “Was there something going on between you?”
    “No, of course not. Annabelle was just very out of sorts.” Reg looked away, moving his shoulders in an embarrassed shrug. “Maybe I took a bit more notice of Jo than usual, just because Annabelle was being so bloody. And Jo seemed to be enjoying the attention, but that was all. It was silly, I know, but sometimes when you’ve known one another a long time, you seem to fall back into the way you behaved as children.”
    “Have you any idea why Annabelle was out of sorts?”
    “Not a glimmer. Except that things had been more stressful than usual here lately.” His gesture indicated the warehouse. “She’d been making changes that would have enormous impact on the future of the company— new products, new packaging, new marketing strategies. Now...” Reg slumped back in his chair with a shake of