Privy to Murder Page 16

  “Even you know better than that. This isn’t a television series. When we see hoofprints, we don’t think zebras, we think horses, probably quarter horses at that and not wild mustangs from some mountain range.”

  I straightened up and pain shot through my back again. I sat hard on one of the ancient wooden chairs in front of the desk, wincing when I did. “JT, you don’t have to believe me, but I felt something evil in that house, and it all centered around Donna. I don’t have an explanation, I just did.”

  “Feelings don’t cut it in court. You haven’t told me anything that would let Frank off. The fact that someone attacked you might or might not have any bearing on this case, but it certainly doesn’t mean we set aside bail and the judge’s ruling to turn Frank lose.”

  I wanted to tell him about my gifts, what I saw in the vision, Mumsie’s reading. I didn’t dare. He really wouldn’t believe me.

  ”You have to concentrate on the things you’re involved in and keep yourself out of department business. If Frank is innocent, we will find out. Instead of protecting someone who’s screwed up his life, take care of your own. Frank hasn’t exactly been a paragon of society lately and I don’t see why you think he deserves your loyalty. Unless there’s something between the two of you that I missed?”

  I slumped back in the chair, straightening up in a hurry when that also caused a back spasm. I knew I was damn lucky to simply have spasms and not fractures, but I was not about to admit that to JT. If he wouldn’t help, I’d continue to work on my own.

  “Fine, JT. Bury your head. Take the easy way instead of looking for the truth.” Tears pushed to get out but I refused to let them. Crying was happening too often lately.

  “Tali, I know what you’re thinking. I’ll put you in protective custody if you don’t stay out of my business.”

  I refused to continue to be afraid of ghosts, murderers, or the sheriff and left the office after a crossed-fingers–and-toes promise to stay out of things.

  * * *

  I’d called Cherilyn earlier but she hadn’t been able to come to the phone then. She’d sounded stressed out through the roof but promised to use her resources to find out whatever she could about Frank and Donna. There was something missing here. Some motive. Frank had no need to kill anyone for money. He had plenty of his own, without resorting to murder and mayhem.

  I picked up two frozen coffee drinks from the Perked Cup and walked into the newspaper office.

  Laurel, standing in front of Cherilyn’s desk, whirled around. “What do you want? Is there some reason you’re lurking around here? Don’t you have business elsewhere, like finishing up work on the dance?” She glared at both of us, stalked into her office, and slammed the door.

  That was the second or third time I’d seen Cherilyn dealing with a boss who had no compunction about berating her in public. I knew how dedicated she’d had been to the paper for the past several years but I couldn’t imagine her staying to put up with the abuse much longer.

  Cherilyn half-turned to the computer, her face in shadow. “What are you doing here, Tali? Did I call you and forget?”

  “Just brought coffee, thought I’d fill you in and ask you a favor since you’re the research queen.”

  “Not a good time. How about later, say sixish at The Sombrero. We’ll have frozen somethings, maybe several, and even food.”

  The drink perched on the edge of her desk. “Deal. Can you see if there’s any dirt to dig up on Keith or Frank or both?”

  “I’ll try. Can’t promise. You may have to get onto the computer and do some searches but I’ll try to look at my databases too. Now, out. I have work to do for Editor-girl in there and right now I need this job.”

  “I have to finish organizing for Saturday night, put together the last centerpiece, talk to Reneé and make sure food and etcetera are in order. See you at the restaurant at six.”

  Later, sitting on the restaurant patio, enjoying the cool of the mister, we both sighed and took long drinks, looked at each other and groaned in pain. There was nothing like the instant brain and stomach freeze from a perfectly prepared frozen ’rita.

  I raised my glass. “Girl, does anything get better than this, friends, tequila, Mexican food, misters in the summer. The life, babe.”

  “Damn, you’re easily pleased, aren’t you? I do need just a little more out of life than this,” Cherilyn said, flicking her hair off her shoulder with her free hand. “I also need money, a career, a guy.”

  I laughed. “Guys are over-rated. There’s never enough money and as for career, not something I can really relate to wanting. I just want to survive without being hauled off to debtor’s prison.”

  “Seriously, Tali, Lauren is going to make me do something I’ll regret. I’ll end up shooting her or telling her off, each one equally as career-ending. She acts as if I’m ten or something. She micro-manages me and doesn’t like anything I do.”

  “I’m not sure why she’s so insecure but you know there are other newspaper jobs out there. You have to get past the tunnel vision that tells you this job is the only one. You are better than that.”

  Cherilyn slumped and looked at me. “You know, it doesn’t always feel like it. I’m really tired of it all. I did update my resume and may begin sending it out.” She brightened up. “I did find out some interesting stuff. Did you know that Frank had a son? I think he was born after the first marriage break-up. Also, Donna stands to inherit all of her mother’s money. If Frank were out of the way, Donna would have free reign.”

  “You think Donna had something to do with the murders, her own mother, Betty Ann? That’s hard to believe. She’s flaky and moody, but a murderer?”

  She dug into chips and salsa. “I’m not accusing Donna or anyone else. But you have to admit the possibility exists. She could be protecting herself and the millions she could inherit. Money does strange things to people.”

  I attacked the flour tortillas and cheese dip. “Of course, control of that same money gives Frank a hell of a motive too. Like I said, never enough. Just how much money are we talking about here?”

  “Several million. That’s just the cash, not the net worth.”

  I sat back and gulped. “My God. I can’t even imagine that kind of money. Why didn’t they have a twenty-thousand square foot house in Dallas, Europe or both.”

  Just then the fajitas arrived, sizzling and smelling like mesquite smoke. If I hadn’t been hungry, I was now. I felt bad for a minute that Sean was having chili dogs with Mumsie and who knows what Cass would fix for herself. I got over it, ate, enjoyed, and sat back satisfied.

  Stuffed and not wanting to move, I sat like a lump. “What do you want to do now?”

  Cherilyn laughed. “After that much food, I can’t think of anything I’d be able to do that didn’t involve sitting or lying down.”

  “That means a manicure, pedicure, or massage.”

  “Now who will take us without an appointment?”

  “We have an appointment at Mumsie’s spa. We’ll rope her in and Cass. Have a girl’s night in. Paint each other’s nails. Cass is a great masseuse and will do it for money. We can talk, get Mumsie to make another round of ’ritas, figure out life. I can even invite Renée.”

  Renée turned us down, too much prep work to do for tomorrow, but when I called Cass she agreed to do massages if we’d manicure her, too.

  After we drove to the house, waddled in, and changed into giant tee shirts, we stretched out on either end of the couch to paint each other’s toes. I painted Cass’s nails, then while our fingernails dried, Cass massaged our shoulders.

  “What do we have here?” I asked. “What does all that information give us?” Cass and I had stretched out on Mumsie’s queen size bed. Mumsie had disappeared with Sean into his room, more interested in watching a movie than us.

  “I don’t know. Maybe nothing.” Cher shrugged her shoulders. “We know some motives, but everything I see is still circumstantial.”

  Cass moved over to me. She
found all my sore muscles.

  “What are the usual motives for murder?” I asked. “Jealousy, anger, money, revenge? Anger doesn’t seem to fit unless there are family things we don’t know, and there always are.”

  Cherilyn turned over on her back and stretched. “Money can’t be it, not from Frank’s point of view.”

  “Jealousy would have been reason for Mag to kill Frank and Betty Ann, not vice-versa. Money might be enough for Donna to try and get rid of someone who would marry Daddy and cut off her control of the funds, but did she really hate her Mom that much? If so, she hid it really well.”

  I could just sit and be massaged forever but I had too much going on and would be up late tonight finishing up last minute checks on food, sound system, band and all the last-minutes for the party.

  “I think we’re missing something.” I struggled upright. “There has to be a specific piece of information we didn’t factor in. There have been too many strange things happen lately and I don’t believe in coincidences. But I can’t pull all of this into anything that makes any sense.”

  Cher changed into real clothes. “And you won’t tonight. So, finish up, go to bed, get rest, prepare for the big day tomorrow. I can let myself out. Thanks for the evening and new fingers and toes. Love the color and the jewels.” She left.

  * * *

  I drank a large bottle of water to get rid of toxins, finished my calls and lists, and organized the decorations. The den looked as if we were opening a southwest-themed restaurant with a riot of colored shawls, pots, rugs.

  My muscles stiffened again. Yesterday’s fall just wouldn’t go away. I had never hooked up the “You’ve got mail” notification so I had several unopened e-mails.

  One from Renée just said not to worry, everything would be ready in time for tomorrow and she found a bartender, and enough rodeo club and FFA kids to help with set up and tear down. Had a Dallas food delivery coming in the morning and would be set.

  One from my ex: “I’ll be there in the morning to pick up Sean. Have him ready. I’m going to take him camping at Texhoma.” Thanks for the notice, Brian. Just what I need, worrying about mister city-guy Brian trying to be an Smoky-the-Bear with my son. They would need someone to put out the forest fire they would start if Brian tried to build a fire.

  When I opened the last one, a skull face popped up on the screen, laughing and turning in circles. The message was one word repeated over and over. Bitch, bitch, bitch. The last line was, “I should have finished the job.” I jabbed at the keyboard to turn the laughing sound off, and the entire e-mail disappeared.

  Great, it was like the killer was in the house with me, in my room, if it was the killer. The person who pushed me could be some nut case and not the one who killed Mag or Betty Ann. I turned off the computer as if that would make the danger disappear. I wished I could fade into the woodwork.

  Wait. This lets Frank off. He wouldn’t have computer access in the jail. I picked up the phone to call JT and put it right back. All the e-mail proved was someone out there didn’t like me much. There was no way to link it to the murders, Frank or no Frank. Maybe Frank couldn’t send it, but someone potentially could send it for him, JT would say. I gave up and decided to just go to sleep and see what happened in the morning.

  I woke up during the night wondering why my feet were cold. Usually Chaos was draped across them during the night. Morning came early, still dark, with loud honking outside.

  “Mom, Mom. Dad’s outside and ready to go. I haven’t finished packing. Can you help me?”

  Shit. I’d gone to sleep wrapped up in my own troubles and had completely forgotten to help Sean pack for this ill-fated (I thought) camping trip. “Okay, I’ll come help. Go tell your Dad you’ll be right there.”

  “His honking sounds mad. You go tell him and I’ll pack.” He ran to his room.

  Great. I had bed hair and dragon breath, without time to even use mouthwash. It was dark, for gosh sake. Not a decent hour to honk at anyone.

  I peered around the front door. “He’ll be right out,” I shouted in the direction of the car. “He’s finishing packing.”

  Brian got out of the car and stalked to the door. “He’s a boy. Just how much packing does he need to do? If this your delaying tactic, we won’t stand for it. You will not cheat us out of our time with Sean.” He gave me the once-over. “You look like hell, Tali. Are you even capable of taking care of Sean?”

  He stood in front of me, all self-righteous, looking like a GQ refugee, no more dressed for serious camping than he was for a dance.

  “Oh get off your high and mighty horse and rein it in. I’ll go help him finish up. You just concentrate on how you’re going to keep Sean safe and protect him from his asthma acting up in the middle of a bunch of trees. Don’t forget, I don’t want to find him all covered with ticks and mosquito bites either.”

  Sean had his duffle ready. “Yes, I have my inhalers and everything in there, I took my pill already. We’re getting food on the way. Have you seen Chaos, Mom? I can’t find her. You didn’t let her out did you?”

  “I don’t think so, honey, but I’ll look for her. I’m sure she’s around. She’s a homebody.” I didn’t tell him she hadn’t been in my room that night either. I ushered him out to avoid any more of the honking that early on a Saturday morning. I waved as they drove off, wishing I’d just said no, but Sean needed time with Brian. He may get to the point of resenting his Dad more than wanting to spend time with him, so now was the time to take advantage of any chance to get close.

  How close I wanted to see Sean get with the man who deserted his family on the side of the road was another thing altogether.

  I began a search for Chaos, fully expecting her to leap out from behind something, then stand there like “What? I didn’t do anything.”

  I scoured the house and even yard. What if the little character had a run-in with a squirrel or something? She’d be toast, as little as she was. I loved my kitty and was a sap where she was concerned. I didn’t want her out and hurt. I put food out on the porch in case she was outside and went in to get ready for the hectic day ahead, listening for kitten cries.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The morning didn’t get any better. I continued looking for Chaos, kept thinking I heard little cat sounds, saw something out of the corner of my eye, but no kitten. We had the occasional coyote, not to mention large dog, possum, and raccoon. Chaos wasn’t so street-smart as to be a match for a wild one of any kind and my heart dropped to even think about finding a torn-up patch of fur.

  I buzzed around, gathering what I wanted to wear that night, making sure everything I needed was loaded into the truck and delivered for setup later that afternoon. The pavilion had a large storage area. Reneé and her rodeo club kids were there setting up tables and unloading those things into the storage room that didn’t need refrigerated.

  Reneé took me off to one side and whispered, “Be ready for a phone call.”

  “Why? From whom? What do you mean?”

  “I heard the band talking when they were here earlier. They were arguing about asking for more money or not playing.”

  “Why the Hell would they do that?”

  Reneé stacked up tubs of cutlery. “Because they can. Because they are young, stupid and greedy and think they can push you around.”

  I directed some of the boys to set up tables along the east wall so all I’d have to do was throw on cloths and décor at the last minute before Reneé added her last minute food. “Well, I don’t have another band waiting in the wings. I’ll have to match their price if I can. Karaoke won’t work for this little shindig, you know.”

  “What about that group you told me about, Crush.”

  “Don’t think two girls playing acoustic guitar and singing will be loud enough for a crowd of cowboys.”

  “Sorry. Just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

  “Not your fault, honey. Just goes right along with everything that’s happened already this morning, a
nd,” I looked at my watch, “it’s not even ten o’clock yet.”

  Reneé looked harried. “Ten? Already? Shit. I have way too much to do for it to be that late.” She cracked the whip to make the kids move faster and I finished unloading my stuff. I convinced her to lock up for me after she left and headed off to see what other good news waited back at the house.

  * * *

  I wasn’t disappointed. Cherilyn left a message on my machine. What now? I called, she said hold on. I did.

  “Tali. Can’t talk long but I thought you ought to know. I just checked the court filings like I do every day and guess what I found?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Donna filed suit to be awarded her share of her mother’s money now, without restrictions. She’s named another person in the suit with her.”

  She paused.

  “Well,” I prompted. “Don’t just sit there. Who?”

  “The name doesn’t sound familiar but the person is Frank’s long-lost son.”

  “Why would he be co-filing in Donna’s suit? That wouldn’t make sense, unless he’s the long-lost boyfriend we’ve been hearing about. Isn’t that almost incestuous?”

  “Sounds like it but they aren’t related by blood, so I guess not.”

  I thought for a minute. “That would give the mysterious lost son a motive if he were involved with Donna. Maybe he hopes to marry into money but that wouldn’t be a legal claim. He’s not Donna’s relative, or Mag’s, even by marriage, so how could he legally file for part of the money?”

  Cherilyn cleared her throat and spoke in a deeper voice. “I’ll check on that and call you right back, sir. And remember, the number for circulation is 583-1212. We are sorry you missed your paper and will make certain it doesn’t happen again.”