"Oh, I see. It's nice to meet you, Paula. I had forgotten about the article," Stone said. He caught on quickly these days, probably from having had so much practice. "Ms. Reed and I just arrived a few minutes ago."
Then I turned to Paula and said, "It's so nice to see you again too, Paula. I just hate seeing you under these circumstances, of course. Speaking of Sidney, was she able to attend the visitation tonight?"
"Yes, she's here with her parents. I was able to speak with her briefly, and she told me she wasn't allowed to stay long. Her father hadn't wanted her to attend the wake at all, but she'd been able to convince him she needed the closure," Paula said.
"I can understand her need for closure," I said. "Do you know where she is right now? I'd like to offer my condolences."
"No. I saw her come up here to the casket, and she was in bad shape when she walked away. So, her parents might have already taken her home. She was about to lose it completely."
Damn, damn, damn. I knew I should have left the hospital when I first contemplated it. Sidney must have been the gal I'd heard weeping when I first came in to the church. Maybe I could still catch her if I hurried.
"Excuse me, Paula and Stone. I need to use the restroom." I limped away toward the restroom, and made a quick change of directions once I was out of sight of the crowd gathering around the casket, where Stone still stood. Paula had gone on to greet more mourners.
I spotted Sidney with an older man and woman, presumably her parents, heading toward the door. I rushed up to them, and said, "Sidney? I just wanted to catch you and offer my sincere condolences."
"Thank you," Sidney said between sobs. I could tell she recognized me from cheerleading practice on Saturday.
"As you may remember, I'm an investigative reporter, and I'm helping the detectives track down Walter's killer. The more I know about Walter, the more effective I can be in assisting the officers in charge of the investigation. I can only imagine how much you want to see that person brought to justice, as do I."
"Uh-huh," she said.
"Would you mind if I ask you a few—"
Just then Sidney's father stepped in front of her to shield her, and said, "She's not available for questioning, ma'am. Can't you see how upset she is? Do you really think this is the time or place for her to answer questions? This is Walter's wake, for goodness sakes. Like I told you before, Ms. Reed, Sidney knows nothing about the murder, and she has nothing to say to the detectives, or to you. I'm not sure you have the authority to ask her anything, anyway."
"Well, I, er, you see—" I'd been put firmly in my place, and I felt a little ashamed of myself. I vowed I wouldn't question anyone else at the wake. Mr. Hobbs was correct; this was neither the time nor the place to intrude on people while they were grieving the loss of a friend or loved one. I would have to find other opportunities to speak with the people on my suspect list. And now I wasn't sure Sidney even belonged on that list. No one could fake anguish that well. I'd never seen her when she wasn't sobbing over the loss of her boyfriend. "I'm just, well, you know, I—"
I was still blabbing long after the Hobbs family had turned to leave. Sidney turned at the door to look back at me.
"Sorry," I mouthed. And I truly was.
I really did need to use the restroom now, so I headed toward the ladies' room. Standing at the sink in the restroom was Walter's sister, Sheila Talley. She had tears in her eyes as she blew her nose. Sheila visibly blanched when she looked up and saw me. I knew she was recalling the incident that had taken place in the pet store.
"I'm so sorry, Sheila, for your loss," I said, sincerely. "And I apologize again for accidentally knocking over the fish tank at the pet store. I hope I didn't get you into any trouble with your boss."
"No, you didn't. The next customer to come in the store bought an eight hundred dollar ori-pei, and two hundred dollars worth of accessories for it, so Mr. Meyer got over the fish tank accident pretty quickly," she said with a barely detectable smile.
"What's an ori-pei, may I ask?"
"It's a shar-pei and pug mix. They're really cute and kind of expensive," Sheila said. "Mr. Meyer was anxious to sell this particular ori-pei, because it had a tendency to chew up and eat things it shouldn't. It had just cost him over five hundred dollars to have a dime removed from the dog's digestive tract."
"That's not a very good exchange rate is it, to spend five hundred dollars to get your dime back?" I asked with a grin. She flashed a more visible smile this time. I put my hand on her shoulder, and said, "I really am sorry, Sheila—for everything."
"Thank you. What happened to your wrist?" she asked, looking at the brace resting on her shoulder blade. "Did you hurt it when you tumbled into the fish tank?"
"No, nothing like that. I just caught myself with it when I fell on the pavement yesterday. It's only sprained, nothing serious. I'll probably only have to wear this brace a few more days, and then it'll be good as new."
I didn't want to tell her, or anybody else, that a car had struck me. I'd rather let her think I'd just tripped and fallen to the ground. It was something she'd find easy to believe. I could tell by the way she looked at me she thought I was the biggest klutz in the world. I felt for a second as though I had "Impending Disaster" written across my forehead. It did seem that way, even to me sometimes, and especially when I found myself in the middle of a murder investigation like this one.
"Well, take care," I said, and made my way to the farthest stall. I was about to wet my pants, but I was relieved to see Sheila visibly upset at her brother's funeral. I could tell she'd been crying, as her eyes were red and puffy. I really didn't want to think Sheila could have had anything to do with Walter's death, despite the money she stood to gain from it.
When I caught up with Stone again, he was speaking with Detective Johnston. Wyatt looked even sharper in a suit than he did in his police uniform. He really was a handsome fellow, I thought. Veronica, who was standing next to him, was lucky to have a man like Wyatt interested in her. She wasn't even remotely attuned to the conversation the two men were having. She was busy blotting her lipstick and looking into the mirror of an old-fashioned compact. Veronica and I were at opposite ends of the diva scale.
Stone and Wyatt were discussing the benefits of using an artificial bait called a "gulp" to fish for walleye. It wasn't exactly what I was expecting to hear when I joined them. How do you segue from gulps to murder? I wondered. Finally, when there was a pause in their conversation, I asked Wyatt if there was any news on the murder investigation.
"No, not much," he said. "They're kind of at a standstill right now."
"Why does that not surprise me?" I asked.
"These things take time, Lexie," Wyatt said. He sounded defensive. I hadn't meant to imply Wyatt and his co-workers were not competent at their jobs.
"Oh, I know." For the second time in an hour I had to explain that I hadn't meant what I'd said to come out the way it did. "I'm just being impatient. Do you know who all have been questioned by the police, so far? Has anyone been named a suspect yet?"
"Well, we haven't had sufficient reason to name any suspects yet. But we've spoken to several members of Walter's family and a number of his friends," Wyatt said. He went on to mention most of the same people I had also spoken with. I noticed Walter's girlfriend, Sidney Hobbs, was not one of the people he listed.
"How about his girlfriend?"
"The current one?"
"Yes. Sidney Hobbs," I said.
"No, her parents won't let us speak to her yet, and we have no reason to think she's responsible, so we haven't pressed the issue. Her father just gave a brief statement on Sidney's behalf, and her alibi checked out to be relatively airtight."
"I've tried several times to speak with her too," I admitted. "I haven't been able to break through the wall her parents put up either."
"Lexie, I know you mean well, and I know you have helped bring a couple investigations to an end in the past—"
I could feel a "but" coming
, so I broke in. "Listen, Wyatt, I'm just trying to help out. It's important to me that this murderer be apprehended and brought to justice, since it happened almost beneath my nose and in Stone's establishment. I'm only trying to assist the authorities. I'm really not attempting to interfere with the official investigation."
"You're not interfering, Lexie, and that's not what I'm concerned about. Stone told me about the accident you were involved in today in the hospital parking lot. Accident may be the wrong word, though, because it doesn't sound like it was an accident at all. It sounds like it was intentional and a direct threat to you and your safety. I just noticed you were limping and have a brace on your wrist. Is all that pain worth it? Is investigating Walter's murder really worth you getting injured, or worse? I don't think so."
"I don't either," Stone agreed. He looked pleased that Wyatt was taking a stand and trying to convince me to back off and leave it in the detectives' hands to find the killer. "I've told her I didn't want to be involved, and I don't want her to be involved either. Situations like this are why we have men like you, Wyatt."
"But—" I said.
Wyatt nodded in agreement. "He's right, Lexie."
"But—"
"I do want to ask you some questions about what happened today, but not right now. I will stop by your house in the morning," Wyatt continued. "Lexie, it would mean a lot to me, and to Stone as well, if we could get you to stop your personal investigation into this murder. It's causing us both a lot of stress we don't need right now. We couldn't stand to see anything else happen to you. You need to trust the authorities to handle the case. We are bringing in a few detectives from St. Joseph who are in the homicide division, and it shouldn't take long to identify a suspect. Please let us take care of the case by ourselves. You've already been hurt badly enough. I'm sure we are closing in on the perpetrator."
I didn't think they were closing in on a perpetrator at all, or were any closer to apprehending a suspect than the moment they first laid eyes on the victim. But jeez, talk about putting me on a guilt trip. I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. I would bring it up in the morning when Wyatt came over to question me, and of course, ingest several cups of coffee and more than a few pastries.
I turned to say hello to Veronica, and the men went back to discussing fishing for walleye. Before I left to mingle in the crowd, I heard Wyatt say, "And yums are as good as gulps at attracting fish."
As I walked through the crowd, I noticed Walter's half-brother, Chuck Sneed, was not present. He must have decided it was more important to go to the hog-tying contest. I guess we all have our priorities. But what could be a higher priority than attending the funeral of a brother, even a half-brother? This seemed to beg for further investigation.
Sheldon Wright, Melba's egotistical attorney, wasn't in attendance either, but this didn't surprise me at all. For all he knew, I might have recognized him inside the SUV, and he could be lying low lest the police were waiting to arrest him at the wake. He might be locked away in his garage at this very moment, replacing his headlight casing.
I saw Walter's dad, Clarence, speaking with an elderly couple. Then I noticed a number of the cheerleaders I'd seen at their practice and at the football scrimmage Monday afternoon. Paula was standing with some of her fellow cheerleaders when I went up to her.
"I'm sorry I didn't get to talk to you much a little while ago," I told Paula. "How is everyone holding up?"
"Okay, Ms. Reed," she said. "We just saw Audrey McCoy waltz in, and none of us can believe she had the nerve to come here. That is, like, so inappropriate."
"Oh, I agree, Paula," I replied. "Why do you think she decided to come?"
"To irritate Sidney, probably. She knows Sidney can't really confront her at Walter's wake. Fortunately, I think Sidney has already left, or there could've been an ugly scene between the two of them."
"Sidney has left," I assured her. "I saw her leave with her parents a little while ago."
"Good. She's torn up enough as it is, without having Audrey instigate more heartache for her. You should speak to her, Rhonda, for your newspaper article," Paula said. "Audrey's the gal in the purple sweater up by the casket. I still think she's capable of murdering Walter."
"Really?"
"Yes. She'd do just about anything to hurt Sidney. They absolutely hate each other's guts. And she can't have been too thrilled when Walter dumped her after just one date to go back to Sidney, her archenemy. It had to have been humiliating for her."
There was that "archenemy" thing again. Guess what, people? DC Comics called, and they want their characters back. Good grief! I wonder what special superhuman powers this young lady possessed. What was up with that, anyway?
"Hmm, I see your point, Paula. Maybe I'll go see if she knows anything," I said. I didn't know how or when I would get another opportunity to speak with Audrey. I might just have to allow this one little exception to my vow not to question anyone else on my suspect list tonight at the wake. Like Paula said, she shouldn't be at the wake to begin with.
I meandered over to where Audrey was standing next to the casket. She was looking intently down at Walter's face. She wore a very odd expression, almost a smirk. I walked up and stood beside her for a few moments. I waited quietly and watched her do something I thought was rather strange. She reached into the casket and placed her open palm on the left side of Walter's chest for about ten or fifteen seconds, as if feeling for a heartbeat. Then, as if satisfied she couldn't find one, she nodded and withdrew her hand.
"Doesn't he look good?" I asked politely. "Was Walter a friend of yours?"
"Not really," she said.
"Did you use to date the young man?"
"We went out just once, and then the bastard e-mailed me to tell me it wouldn't work out between us. He said he just didn't feel like we'd made any kind of connection, or had anything in common. He also said he missed Sidney and wanted to try to make up with her in the e-mail message he sent me."
"Oh, well, I'm sorry to hear that," I said. I hoped I sounded more sincere than I felt.
"He could have at least told me all this in person, the gutless piece of crap," Audrey said.
Audrey was being very open and talkative, considering the fact she had no clue who I was. She didn't seem to care if anyone and everyone knew she had issues with both Walter and his long-time girlfriend, Sidney. Would someone with something to hide be this informative, or this obviously hateful of the deceased?
"I think he just asked me out to make his girlfriend jealous enough to take him back. He knew Sidney and I didn't get along, and going out with me would make her more jealous than going out with anyone else could. They'd been going together for a long time and were kind of going through a rough spell. I only wanted to help him get over it," Audrey said. "But Walter really was a jerk. I don't know what she saw in him. And I don't know what he saw in her, either."
"It doesn't sound like you cared much for him or Sidney, so why did you come tonight?" I asked. "I should have thought you'd avoid this visitation like the plague."
"I don't know. Maybe just to make sure he was really dead. I couldn't believe it when I heard the news of his death. Personally, I think he had it coming. It's kind of rewarding to see Sidney get her due too. I don't see her here though."
"She was here earlier. She's very, very distraught," I assured her. "I didn't get a chance to speak with her, though."
"Good. I'm glad his death is so painful for her. That's what she gets!"
Wow, this girl was vicious. A young man was dead, and she was thrilled about it. I could understand why Sidney and the rest of the cheerleading squad didn't care for her. She was almost sociopathic. I noticed she'd never turned to look directly at me, but was staring at Walter throughout our entire conversation, as if she couldn't take her eyes off him.
"Do you know anyone who would have wanted Walter dead?" I asked.
"You mean besides me?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess."
"Not really. He w
as an athlete and pretty popular with the other guys," Audrey said. "His best friend, Joey Cox, was the homecoming king, quarterback, and all that in high school. Joey was easily the most popular guy in high school. Just being Joey's best friend made Walter pretty popular. He was popular by association, I think. It couldn't be his own personality, that's for sure."
"Is Joey a college student here in town too?" I asked. His best friend should know if Walter had any enemies, anyone who might want to harm him. Had the police questioned him? I wondered. He might not be responsible for his best friend's death, but he might have some insight about who could be.
"No, he went to a trade school out in Wyoming for a couple years, and he just started as a mechanic at a garage in town." She sounded more sociable now, less menacing. Perhaps she suffered from a bipolar disorder.
"Is Joey here tonight?"
"He was, but he was leaving just as I arrived," Audrey replied. "He looked pretty torn up, and hurrying along as if he just couldn't bear to stay any longer."
"Do you know where the garage is located?" I asked. You'd think Audrey would question why I cared where Walter's best friend worked, but she didn't seem to. She still had no clue who I was, and hadn't bothered to inquire either. She didn't seem to mind me asking her questions, nor did she seem to care what kind of impression she left on me. This wasn't typical behavior for a murderer, I shouldn't imagine. Still, she was adamant in her dislike of the guy.
"The garage is next to the hardware store on Sixth Street. It's called Boney's. An old guy, who's known as one of the founding fathers of Rockdale, started the garage years ago, and Boney was his nickname. As a matter of fact, Joey changed my oil just the other day." As she finished speaking, she stepped back from the casket and faltered a bit. She looked as if she was on the verge of fainting, so I grabbed her arm to steady her.
Lexie Starr Cozy Mysteries Boxed Set Page 49
