by Tonya Kappes
“Strange he never mentioned it when he comes into the thrift store.” Julip shrugged her shoulders.
“Julip Knox.” One of the officers I recognized from the crime scene at the battlefield called her name. “Follow me, please.”
“It was good seeing you again.” Julip gave me a half smile and stood up. “Good luck with that.” She pointed to my wrists before she disappeared down the hall where they took people to be interviewed.
A place I know all too well.
“Mae.” Hank turned the corner of that same hall and came into the main room. “What on earth is going on?” He was accompanied by a cute little beagle dog.
“You tell me,” I stood up, demanding answers. “We’ve been dating for a few months, but you never talk about me or even acknowledge that you’ve got a girlfriend?”
“What?” By the look on his face, I could tell I’d taken him by surprise.
“You heard me. The ranger who cuffed me, way too hard by the way, said you didn’t have a girlfriend. Then.” I flung my hand up and pointed to the hallway. “Julip Knox had no idea either because he’s never mentioned it when he comes into the thrift store,” I said, mocking her tone.
“Follow me to my office,” he said in a calm matter, fully aware all the eyes of the other officers were on us. “Would you like a coffee?” he asked, opening the door of his office and putting the dog in there.
“I’d love one.” I watched him as he walked over to the coffee station and poured two cups of coffee. He even doctored mine up the way I like it.
I followed him to the office right by the coffee.
“How would you know how I like my coffee if we weren’t dating?” I asked very loudly so everyone could hear. he closed to the door to his office and set the coffees on his desk.
“What on earth is wrong with you?” he asked in a very calm voice. “I’m trying to run an investigation here. We’ve got a few dead bodies that I can trace back to Greaser, but I have no idea who killed him.” He paced back and forth, running his hand through his hair as though he forgot I was there and was trying to talk out everything in his head. “Then we have Flora Jean in the hospital in a coma. Who knows when she’s going to wake up and tell us what happened. Then I have the FBI breathing down my neck.” He pointed to the sleeping dog. “And now I think I’m a dog owner, which I don’t want to be.”
He stopped pacing. His chin lifted and he looked at me.
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head and reached out for me to take his hand. “I know you didn’t need to hear all that.” He squeezed my hand and let it go.
“Dog owner?” I looked at the sweet pup.
“Yeah. That’s Darnell’s hunting dog. He’s the one with the good sniffer we used to track Greaser. No one in the family wants the dog, and I just couldn’t put him in a shelter.” His eyes softened.
“You are a good man.” That melted my heart. “I hope he and Fifi get along.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about right now. I’m worried about Greaser’s steps and how he got back into Normal.”
“You have no idea who killed Greaser?” I asked, picking up my coffee from the desk. “Flora Jean is in a coma?”
“She should be okay, but they put her in a coma to get the deep stab wound in her chest sewn up.” He pointed to where she must’ve been hit. “She’s lucky you got there when you did because she would have been dead in a few minutes if you hadn’t.”
“I’m so glad I went there for Queenie.” I took a drink of my coffee. “Did you hear I found the motorhome? Well, Julip did. Sorta.”
I should’ve thanked her when I saw her in the waiting room, but I forgot. Oh, well. I’d be sure to stop by the Tough Nickel to thank her.
“I heard they arrested you for stealing it, but I’ve got someone on it. You know, you should’ve called me like Abby told you to do.” He sat down at his desk and gave me a good stern look like a disappointed parent.
“She’s a tattletale.” I winked at him to lighten the mood, but he didn’t smile and continued to tap the end of his pen on the desk. “I’m sorry. I am, but if I hadn’t found it, I’d be bankrupt, and you can’t be mad at me for that.”
“No, but I did question Queenie about Greaser and how he got the bayonet. She was insistent that she didn’t know he was Greaser.” He opened a file on his desk and flipped through some papers.
“I know. I was there.” A movie of Greaser walking up to us played in my head as I recalled the details. “Queenie was waiting for Davey Bass to show up. He was going to take Lester’s spot in the reenactment, but Lester ended up showing up, which made Queenie really happy.”
“The story,” he reminded me to get back on track since I was really good at making a long story longer.
“Honestly, Queenie shoved the uniform and equipment into Greaser’s arms. He was reluctant at first.” I recalled his hesitation. I hadn’t seen his face, but I remembered his body language. “I think when he realized she didn’t know who he was that he decided to go with it.”
Hank sighed. His eyes gazed over my head as though he were looking in the air for the answers.
“Were all the victims jurors?” I asked. “Did he make good on his promise? How did he know they were all going to be in the same place?”
“Mae!” Hank smacked the table. “Yes. He knew that Darnell and Buggy were jurors, but how did he know about the reenactment? How did he know where to go? Why did he go to the Milkery and backtrack into Normal when he could’ve just left town? The Milkery is on the edge of town. He would have been free.”
“Someone helped him,” I suggested, with a little intrepidation in my voice.
“You’re dang right somebody did. How else can you explain how his scent stopped at the road and the dogs never picked it up?” Hank got up and started doing that pacing again.
“You do that a lot.” I wiggled my finger at him.
“What?” he asked and continued to pace.
“Walk back and forth.”
“Yeah. Helps me think and work things out in my head.” He bent down and kissed the top of my head. “I’ll have an officer take you home.”
“What about the motorhome?” I asked. I wasn’t going to leave without getting that sucker back to Frank and Barbara.
“Donald Bass already gave me his insurance information to pay for any damage to the motorhome. He’s keeping his boy in the drunk tank until he sobers up and isn’t sure when he’s going to get him out. He said the boy needs to learn a lesson.” He laughed. “Not that the Normal jail is great for that since there’s no one in there but him. You know my granny. She’s giving that kid all sorts of food to help him sober up. The motorhome is back at Happy Trails. The Bassetts should be happy.”
“Thank you,” I said.
I was grateful he had taken a break from a murder investigation to make sure the motorhome was back safe and sound.
“I love your granny.” I did love her, and I loved how he loved her.
“She’s pretty fond of you.” He took my hand and lifted me up, pulling me into his arms. “Which reminds me, she wants to have you over for supper tonight.”
“Perfect.” We kissed, making me forget about how he’d not bragged on us dating and reminding me how I loved his strong, protective personality. I guess he would tell everyone about us on his own time. “Time?”
“Make it around 6. And you can bring Fifi.” He looked over at the Chester. “They need to meet.”
“Why is Blanche out there?” I asked, wanting to know why she was here since the prison break seemed so long ago, even though it hadn’t even been forty-eight hours.
“Blanche who?”
“The prison security guard who Greaser knocked down.” Did I really have to remind him?
“I moved that investigation over to another officer to finish up the paperwork now that Greaser is dead.” He opened the office door. “I’m sure she’s here to give a final statement.” He led me out of the office.
Julip Kno
x was rounding the corner of the hallway as I was walking out the office door. Our eyes caught.
“Do you want me to take the dog?” I asked.
“Chester. His name is Chester.” He smiled like it was hard for him to say the name without giggling. “He’s fine. He’s a good boy and maybe I’ll let the Bass boy play with him.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later.” I gave Hank one more quick kiss and walked over to Julip. “Are you going anywhere near the campground?” I asked.
“I live a little past there. Well, actually, a little past the battleground. Why?” she asked.
“I need a lift home.”
“I can take you,” she offered, and I accepted.
“Everything good?” Agnes asked on my way out.
“It’s all perfect. What can I bring tonight?” I asked.
“Not a thing. I’m feeding you.” She gave me a quick hug.
The police station was still in a flurry when we left. There was still some good sunlight, making me think I should probably stop by the reenactment after party, but I was so exhausted and I really didn’t want to be bothered with anyone. Not even at the campground.
“You know what, can you just drop me off at the Normal Baptist Church instead?” I asked Julip when we got into her Subaru station wagon. Odd car for such a young girl, I thought.
“You need a little religion?” she asked with a jovial tone.
“No. I’m actually doing the taxes for Betts Hager. We’re friends and her husband is the preacher.” I swung the seatbelt around me and clipped it.
“I know who they are.” She started the car. “I’m from here. All my life. I’ll never get out of this town.”
“Good. We need good residents like you. Especially since you are a historian and know all about these maps.” I wondered if Hank had thought about using her to help trace Greaser’s steps.
I quickly texted him to suggest that while she talked about the maps with obvious passion, but he didn’t get back to me by the time she pulled up in front of the church.
“Are you sure you don’t need a ride home?” she asked.
“I’ll be fine.” I opened the door. I really wasn’t sure, but if I knew Normal like I did, there was always someone around that I could bum a ride off of.
The old school bus the church used to transport the Bible thumpers to the prison for their ministering was parked in the church parking lot. Lester was coming off the bus with a bag in each hand. He stopped and looked at us.
“Thanks again,” I said to Julip. “And thanks for talking to me during the reenactment.”
“My pleasure.” She pulled off and I watched as she drove away.
Thirteen
“You need help?” I asked Lester when I noticed he’d already gone back into the bus and brought out two more bags.
“I’m just doing busy work.” He lifted the two bags in the air. “Why were you with the Knox girl?”
The question hit me as odd.
“Long story short, she was at the police station and I needed a lift.” I left out the part about Greaser since it was a touchy subject with him and Betts. “Good news, I found the stolen motorhome. Kids took it for a joyride.”
Somewhere under his smile I wondered if he had been rebellious when he was a child.
“These are the bags we use when we go to the prison to minister.” The ice between us seemed to have melted.
It’s not that we didn’t like each other, we simply didn’t know each other. He and Betts were so kind to me when I moved to Normal. All the kindness was funneled through Betts and I’d yet to thank him.
“You know.” I shrugged. “I’ve never really had the chance to thank you for all you and Betts did for me when I first moved to Normal.”
“You know how you can thank me?” He asked with a raised brow. There was a hesitation when I didn’t answer. “Come to church. That’d make Betts very happy.”
I’m not sure if it was the sun or if it was the glistening glow of God around him, but Lester was glowing. He had strawberry blond hair and fair skin. He was tall and slender. Around his mid-thirties. From what I remember Dottie telling me, he was a little older than Betts, but not by much.
“I can help.” I followed him up the steps on the bus and helped him carry out the rest of the bags, ignoring his statement about me and church.
“Betts said you might be stopping by to help out with the taxes, but I told her I could do it. I’m not upset about the prison break anymore now that Greaser is dead.” He grabbed a couple of bags in each hand and headed towards the church office, which was located on the side of the church.
“Speaking of the reenactment,” I grabbed a few bags and followed him. “I’m glad you came. Queenie was worried that you weren’t coming.”
“Betts told her that, but I keep my word. The good Lord willing.” He held the door open for me with the heel of his shoe. “You can just drop those on the floor anywhere.”
“Betts is a good wife just trying to look out for you.” We made one more trip out to the parking lot to get the rest of the bags. “What is in these?”
“Bibles and this week’s lesson. Which reminds me that I need to put in next week’s lesson.” A long sigh escaped him. The stress showed in the deep set wrinkles around his eyes.
“Do you want me to do that for you?” I asked.
“No. I’ll do it. Thank you for coming. Do you need a ride home?” he asked.
“I’m going to take a quick look at your taxes. Like you, I gave Betts my word and I’m going to keep it.” I wasn’t going to let the stress of a little unaccounted for money weigh on him when I couldn’t help but think in the back of his head that he worried if he’d done his job in the reenactment, Greaser wouldn’t’ve put on that uniform and got the bayonet that was meant for Lester.
“Really, Mae, I appreciate it, but it’s not necessary.” His face relaxed as he looked out the window at the last bit of sun for the afternoon. “You know, sitting here and looking out over the mountains of the park with the sun starting to set, I realize what’s really important. I’m happy to be here in light of what happened with the prisoner.”
I noticed he didn’t call him by name.
“He could’ve killed me. I’m not scared to die, but I’m scared to leave Betts.” His Adam’s apple moved up and down his throat. “I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure she’s got a wonderful life.” He nodded. “I think it took what happened for me to appreciate what the good Lord has given me here on earth. Sometimes even a man of God can take things for granted.”
“So you’re saying that God put you in that situation to learn a lesson?” I was all sorts of confused.
“I don’t know, but I think God affords us second chances.” He turned away from the window to look at the bags. “I told the prison that my last week to minister to them would be next week. I think I need a little time away.”
“That sounds good.” There was a folder on the desk that had the year and Taxes printed on it. “Why don’t you head over to the Laundry Club and see your wife? I’ll take a quick look at the taxes and see if I can come up with anything.”
“Are you sure?” I was happy to see that he was going to let me take a crack at them. Not that I was the greatest, but another pair of eyes couldn’t hurt.
“Positive.” I knew Betts would be so happy to see him since she’d been so worried.
“Okay, but look at the collections first. I didn’t see anything in the bills or payments, but I did see some discrepancies in the collections. I sure hope there isn’t a deacon taking money.” The lines between his eyes pinched.
“I’ll do it.” I walked around the desk. “Have a good time.”
“I’ll be back to lock up. I try to keep the sanctuary open for anyone who needs to spend some time with the big man.” He waved and disappeared out of the office.
Over the course of the next couple of hours, I separated all the documents in the tax file into piles. Each category had its ow
n pile: expenses; collected checks from the tithes; records of the trips the Bible thumpers took; and collected cash from the tithes. There were detailed records of people’s tithing and there was definitely a pattern.
Most of the big donors paid the same each month, and I recognized most of their names. There was one month that I noticed Carol Wise, a Bible thumper and local peach pie baker, didn’t make her tithe a few weeks in a row. It was odd because when I went back through the previous year’s tax documents and quickly thumbed through the weekly records, she hadn’t missed a week.
What had changed?
There was only one way I knew to find that out and that was to ask her.
My phone chirped while I was putting away the documents. It was clear that I needed to solve the mystery around Carol’s tithe and the afternoon had faded into dusk. Not only did I have to get back to Fifi, but I wanted to stop by the Milkery and check on Mary Elizabeth.
It was odd to me she hadn’t made it to the reenactment or the after party.
I heard footsteps coming down the hall just as I was closing the file. I thought it was Lester, but when the footsteps stopped at the office door and then walked away, I looked up.
Shivers melted down my spine, making me shake. Although Greaser was dead, the thought of someone out there who might’ve killed him, other than Flora Jean, was still heavy on my mind.
The outside door clicked shut. I hurried out of the office and down the hall to look out into the parking lot to see if I could see who it was.
The shadow had melted into the pavement and around the corner going towards the church itself.
“You’re so nosy,” I said to myself and ran after the shadow to see exactly who wanted to see if anyone was in the office.
Was it one of the deacons that Lester had said may be taking money? Did they think someone wasn’t in the office and we have a clear case of theft? I’d learned over the past year during several investigations that I put my nose into that things weren’t always as they appeared.
The door to the sanctuary was slowing closing. I hurried up the concrete steps of the church and pulled the door open. The lights were dim. There were ten large concrete pillars on each side. Between each pillar was a typical stained glass window of bible stories. The rows of pews were about twenty deep and there was one person sitting in the front row. They had their hands folded in their lap as they sat on the edge of the pew, their head bowed, facing the altar.
