Tequila Mockingbird (Book 7)

by Liliana Hart

  “Anyway,” she said. “About a week before Carol disappeared, Jim said he gave her half of what was in their joint savings account, which was about twenty grand in cash, and Carol and the boyfriend took off to Killeen. I was happy and thought our life would start together. Everything had been so…easy. No drama with the ex, or unpleasant scenes. I just moved from my old life into a new one.”

  “Where was Tom in all of this?” Hank asked. “I can’t imagine him sitting by.”

  Robin laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Oh, he didn’t sit by. It was the most excitement I’d seen out of him in years. He was fit to be tied, and Tom was never a dummy. He knew something was off with the way Carol disappeared, but he also knew he had to be careful. Sheriff Black hated him because he was from Rusty Gun. All he needed was an excuse to fire Tom and he was gone.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard Black was a real peach,” Hank said.

  “The night that Carol left, I went over to Jim’s. I wasn’t sure I believed she really left. He’d been telling me they were separated for months, but whenever I’d drive by to check, her car was always there. And I didn’t really believe that he’d filed for divorce. But when I got there, Carol was really gone. Her closet was all but empty, and a lot of her personal things and photographs were gone. But Jim was acting weird. I kept asking him if Carol had really left, but he was pacing the floor all nervous like and mumbling under his breath.

  “I thought he was upset because she’d left him, and he was distraught or something. I thought maybe he still loved her. I should’ve known, but I was so stupid back then.” Robin’s puffs on her cigarette got faster, and she was visibly agitated. “He kind of scared me the way he was acting, and I was afraid he was going to try to kill himself or something. I’m telling you, he wasn’t right in the head. The dog was going crazy and barking loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Then I saw it, and I should’ve known, but I didn’t want to see.”

  “See what?” Agatha asked.

  “The dark, reddish-brown stain on the carpet next to a coffee table in the living room. When I asked him about it, he said the dog had knocked over a glass of wine and it spilled onto the carpet. I knew Jim didn’t drink wine, but I wanted to believe him. So I did.

  “Then he really went nuts. He dragged me into the bedroom so he could prove she was gone and all her stuff with her. As far as I knew, she’d left town with her boyfriend and twenty grand in cash. I didn’t ask a whole lot of questions after that.

  “The next day he asked if I’d help him pick out new carpet since he couldn’t get the wine stain out, and the house would be mine too, but when I stopped by the house to look at the carpet samples he’d already had the carpet replaced with the exact same carpet.”

  “Did you see what he did with the stained carpet?” Hank asked.

  Robin shook her head. “And after I moved in, I found a bunch of Carol’s things in the attic. Clothes, shoes and lots of her personal belongings. I confronted him about it, and he said she was supposed to come back and get her junk and he was going to donate it all since so much time had passed.

  “Carol never called or tried to make contact? Agatha asked.

  “Not with me,” she said. “But Jim said she’d called him a couple of times to tell him to stop trying to hunt her down so she could be served with divorce papers. The divorce eventually went through, but it took a while.”

  “Does the name George ring a bell?” Agatha asked.

  Robin laughed. “That was the supposed mystery man. Anytime the name was mentioned, Jim would pretend to get mad and storm out of the room. The truth was, the only George I knew was a lumber delivery guy. And I seriously doubt he was who Carol ran off with, if she ran off with anyone. Besides, George had a boyfriend. He didn’t make a secret of it, if you get what I’m saying.”

  “Oh, I see,” Agatha said.

  “After I told Tom all this stuff he wanted to get to the bottom of it. I screwed up. I’ll admit it. And I just know in my heart Jim killed his wife.”

  Hank heard the dog clawing at the door, and knew it was the time to leave. Plus, he could only continue holding his breath for so long.

  “I appreciate you taking the time to talk to us,” Hank said. “We’ll pick up where Tom left off.”

  “Thank you, detective.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Hey, you feeling up for some Friday night football?” Hank asked Agatha later that night.

  “Not really, but thanks for asking,” Agatha said, staring out across the street from her porch. “I just can’t get this case out of my head.”

  She heard the sharp, snappy drumline rhythm from the high school’s marching band floating across the night. The sounds of the stadium wafted through the quiet streets of Rusty Gun, the announcer’s voice had become part of the melody of their quaint town, and whether the home team was winning or losing, his voice was always full of optimism and hope.

  “You thinking about Robin?” Hank asked.

  “Yeah, I guess so. How can people be so wrapped up in a bad situation and not see what’s right in front of their face?”

  “Because when emotions are involved, there are times we don’t want to see what’s right in front of our face. Especially if we think we’re going to get our heart broken. She was simply trying to survive in a life that was spiraling out of control,” Hank said. “It’s easy to look back and judge, but she’s beating herself up over the loss of not only Tom, but of Carol too.”

  “I don’t know,” Agatha said. “I can’t get a solid read on her, but I think there’s more to Robin Byrd than what we saw today. Why does she still have one of Jim’s dogs?”

  “I can’t answer that one, but I noticed Robin never said she didn’t still love Jim either.”

  “Why can’t we just pick Jim up and put some pressure on him?”

  “Because that would be kidnapping,” Hank said. “This case has sat for over a decade. There’s no need to rush into things without having solid evidence to back it up.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I hate it when you’re right.”

  “Really?” he said. “Because I kind of like it.”

  Agatha elbowed him lightly in the ribs, and he threw his arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. “Look, pulling Jim in for an interview is going to result in nothing but a lawsuit for Coil and us personally. Besides, what do we have to go on?”

  “The letter,” she said.

  “Crime lab still has it.”

  “The carpet.”

  “It’s long gone,” he said.

  Agatha blew out a breath in frustration. “His contradicting statements from February and December interviews.”

  “The second statement doesn’t count. Tom Earls wasn’t conducting a sanctioned investigation.”

  “What about his phone records?” Agatha asked.

  “We need a subpoena,” Hank said.

  “Why are you blocking me, Hank?”

  “I’m protecting you, Aggie.”

  “From what?”

  “Yourself.”

  “Then what are we supposed to do?” she growled, her frustration evident.

  “Walk.”

  “What?” Agatha asked.

  “Walk,” Hank said quietly.

  “Where?”

  “Far enough behind him so that he doesn’t see us.” Hank pointed down the block. It was Jim Brown and his old German Shepherd.

  “Don’t you think he’ll notice us?” Agatha asked.

  Hank shook his head and he zipped up the dark jacket he wore. “Jim is always lost in thought and the dog is so old, I’m surprised he’s not pulling him in a red wagon.”

  Agatha felt a surge of adrenaline pump into her blood. She’d never participated in a walking surveillance. She hurried inside to grab a dark jacket and to switch her porch lights off before she rejoined Hank in the front yard.

  “How do we do this?” she asked in a whisper.

  “The thing I’ve found that works best…” Hank sai
d.

  “Yeah,” Agatha interrupted with excitement in her voice.

  “Is to walk,” Hank teased. “Preferably in the same direction as your target.”

  She smacked him in the side, and they ducked behind her shrubs as the unsuspecting duo passed by on the opposite side of the street. Jim was about fifty yards past them before they began to follow. Hank pulled Agatha back to the opposite side of the street, but not before the passing car blared it’s horn at her. Hank pulled her down behind a parked truck.

  “You gotta keep it cool,” Hank said, admonishing her.

  “I’m sorry, I just don’t want him to get away,” she said. “I know we’re onto something big.”

  “How about we let Jim dictate what happens, and we just watch?”

  Agatha tugged her arm away from Hank’s grasp. She was excited and didn’t appreciate his rational thought processes ruining her first-ever surveillance.

  They fell into a comfortable pace that allowed them to see everything Jim did, which wasn’t much, and by the time he’d taken the next two corners, Agatha had grown bored with what she thought was the chance to catch him in the act of…something.

  Hank pulled into the shadows as they saw Jim turn toward their direction. It looked like he might’ve heard something, but his actions remained unfortunately consistent with a man walking his dog.

  “This isn’t what I expected,” Agatha said.

  “What did you think was going to happen?” Hank asked incredulously. “That he was going to dig up Carol’s body?”

  “Hilarious,” she said pouting. “I don’t know. Maybe. Or that maybe he’d rendezvous with a mysterious character.”

  “You’re nuts,” he said. “But I love you anyway.”

  Agatha smiled. She was determined to get justice for Robin, Carol, and Edna. Even if she had to follow Jim Brown all over town.

  “He’s on the move,” Hank said, pulling her into motion again.

  They backed off once they heard his German Shepherd begin to bark. Hank looked at the small tree they stood near, checked to see which direction the wind was blowing. They were downwind, so she knew the dog hadn’t picked up their scent. She also doubted the poor old pooch could sniff out his own breakfast, but something was giving the dog an added surge of excitement.

  “Maybe that’s where her body is buried,” Agatha said.

  “Or maybe he saw a squirrel.”

  “You’re a real riot tonight,” Agatha said. “But that’s Jim and Carol’s old house.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Hank whispered. “I didn’t realize it was so close.”

  Agatha pulled out her cell phone and covered the light with her hand. She’d taken screenshots of the property records they’d gotten from the clerk of courts.

  “He currently lives off of Central Drive, but before that, he and Carol, and then of course, Robin, all lived down there at 1109 Brandywine Court.”

  “Hmm,” Hank said. “That does make things more interesting.”

  Agatha narrowed her gaze as Jim and the dog disappeared into the shadows around the house. If she could just get a little closer. The row of hedges extended down toward Jim and his dog, and she was almost sure she could inch in without being heard.

  “I’m going in,” she whispered.

  “In where?”

  “Closer.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Hank said.

  “Good thing I’m not you,” Agatha said. “Later, big boy.”

  She set off in a crouched position behind the shrubs, and she immediately regretted it. It was obviously a place where Jim’s dog, and possibly every dog in Rusty Gun came to poop. She was sure it was poop because it felt like it, and ultimately, smelled like it. She’d never live this down if Hank saw her like this.

  Since she’d already stepped in it, literally and figuratively, Agatha wormed her way along the path through the bushes. The mulch was still moist and she stumbled over a system of in-ground sprinkler heads until she made her way directly behind Jim. He was in front of 1109 Brandywine.

  “Bingo,” she whispered.

  She realized the dog’s hearing was much better than she’d thought, because his head lifted, and he looked straight toward her in the bushes. He sniffed the air, and her body tightened into as small of a knot as she could muster. The German Shepherd was old, but was still an imposing beast as he waggled his big body toward the shrubs.

  No. No. No.

  But her pleas went unanswered as the old dog went right up to her. He stuck his snout through the matrix of wiry branches, and then rotated to pee all over her. She squeaked as he soaked her, but all she could do was sit there and take it or risk being caught.

  Her cell vibrated, and she waited until the dog trotted back off to his owner before she looked at the screen. The text was from Hank. Of course.

  You okay? Hank asked.

  Yes.

  Jim walked back my way, but the coast is clear,” he said.

  Go home without me. Talk to you tomorrow. And if she was lucky, he’d actually listen to her.

  There was no way Agatha was ever going to let Hank see or smell her in that condition. She figured with Jim and his dog out of the area, and Hank on his way back to the house, she’d just hang tight for a few moments and then sneak home.

  “No problem,” she said under her breath.

  There was a recognizable click all around her as sprinkler heads shot up from the grass, and a hiss as the water began to spray in wide arcs. At least she could wash the worst of it away before she went home.

  “Always look on the bright side, Agatha.”

  Chapter Ten

  Saturday

  It was an early morning for Hank, but he’d agreed to meet Agatha and Coil at the Kettle Café for breakfast. He was concerned about Agatha and what had held her up the night before. He’d hoped she hadn’t tried to push the case, or worse yet, dig around the property and get busted for trespassing.

  Hank had walked the few blocks over to Main Street, and arrived early, which was unusual because he was never early anywhere. Saturday mornings were always crowded with folks grabbing breakfast before heading out of town for an adventure. Hank folded into his favorite booth in the back corner and watched through the painted windows. He loved watching people. They were fascinating.

  He’d barely had the thought when Heather Cartwright blew into the café with all the bells and whistles of a woman who was used to being the center of attention. Heather was an acquired taste, and he’d gotten more than his fair share of her when she’d been accused of her ex-husband’s murder a few months back, but she was Agatha’s closest friend, so he tolerated her for Agatha’s sake.

  Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen her since she’d been taken away in cuffs. She must’ve taken an extended trip to recuperate from the trauma.

  “Mind if I sit?” she asked, and scooted onto the vinyl seat across from him.

  “Sure,” he said. The waitress came up with his cup of hot water and a tea bag and set it on the table in front of him.

  “Thanks again for everything you did for me,” Heather said. “I should’ve told you sooner, but I just had to escape for a while. I had to come back so I could get Buck’s will all settled. Turns out his will stands, and I’m his beneficiary. I’m thinking of opening a foundation or something. No one needs all that money.”

  “Glad I could help,” Hank said, thinking that sounded very uncharacteristic of Heather.

  “I saw you in here, and I wanted to come give you a little gift to show my appreciation. I dropped one off for Coil too.”

  Hank’s lips twitched. He could only imagine how his friend reacted to Heather. “There’s no need.”

  “Please,” she said, batting impossibly long eyelashes. “It would mean so much to me.”

  “Okay,” Hank said, resigned.

  Heather poked around in a rhinestone-beaded clutch and came up with a gift card, and she slid it across the table. “Here you go, sugar,” she said, beaming.
“I bought this place, so I can get as many as I want.”

  Hank reached across the table and picked up the ten-dollar gift card, and he raised his brows. “Wow,” he said. “You shouldn’t have.”

  “I know,” she said. “Sorry it’s not much, but if I gave too much away then this place wouldn’t be making money. I’m a businesswoman now, and I have to start thinking that way. Tell Agatha I said hello. I gotta skedaddle and meet Karl down at the shooting range.”

  “Rusty Gun has a shooting range?” Hank asked.

  She giggled. “Inside joke.” And like that, she was gone.

  Hank handed the gift card to a young couple that was walking by just as Coil walked through the door. Agatha wasn’t far behind him.

  “You look aggravated,” Agatha said, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing much,” he said. “Just ran into Heather.”

  “Don’t start on her,” Agatha scolded.

  Coil laughed. “Let me guess, she wanted to show you her appreciation?”

  “Got it in one,” Hank said.

  “What am I missing?” Agatha asked.

  “Nothing,” Coil said. “But maybe this will make you feel better.” Coil slid an envelope across the table.

  “Crime lab?” Hank asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Cool, what did they say?” Agatha asked. “Can we pull Jim in for questioning now?”

  “No,” said Hank and Coil at the same time.

  “What does the lab say about it?” Hank asked.

  “There’s DNA on the glue where it was licked,” Coil replied.

  “But?” Hank knew it was never that easy.

  “But, it’s not Jim Brown’s DNA.”

  “Is it Carol’s?” Agatha asked.

  “We don’t know,” Coil said. “The lab had a swab from Jim the night he was arrested for a domestic disturbance with Carol a few months before she disappeared. It’s the only reason they were able to do a comparison sample.”

  “Do you think Carol wrote the goodbye letter?” Agatha asked.

  “The state’s forensics lab doesn’t have a known sample of Carol Brown’s DNA to compare this to. Science has advanced to the point of what we call forensic DNA phenotyping. It allows us to identify someone’s ancestry, eye color, and hair color,” Coil explained. “Natural hair color I should say.”