Toni Donovan Mysteries- Books 1-3

by Helen Gray

  *

  The next morning Toni started to fix breakfast, and paused to gaze out the kitchen window. Ice glistened on the trees, but the sky looked like the sun might come out. She put the coffee pot on and dug out the phone book.

  “I’m sorry he’s hurt,” Jodi said in an uneven voice when Toni related what had happened to Donnie. But she didn’t indicate she would go see him. “Thanks for calling me.”

  Instead of getting busy, Toni just stood there, staring at the icy trees and letting loose thoughts and memories ooze around in her brain. She felt better about her marriage, but she couldn’t relax while a killer still ran loose. She knew all the pieces were there, but they weren’t clear enough to present to anyone. She had to connect the dots, establish a link between the crimes.

  Newspaper articles had reported Marsha’s death as a community travesty and left the impression that a monster had killed her. But a monster hadn’t done it. It was another human being, just like herself and many others who lived and worked in the community.

  In her silent introspection, a cog suddenly clicked into place. With her heartbeat quickening in her chest, Toni went to the desk in the den to check the calendar where she kept notes. There had been three basketball games the night of the attack on Garrett. Each of them ran a little over an hour, with a ten to fifteen minute break between, a total of about an hour and a half apart. She looked at the game times she had jotted on the calendar when working on student council concession plans. The first game had started at five. Either coach could have lifted Tom’s keys before that.

  Lisa would have been coaching the first game, during which Jordan could have gone out the back door of the gym to where coaches and officials parked their vehicles. He could have driven to the Railroad Bar, parked, and driven Tom’s car back to the school parking lot in readiness for the attack later.

  On the other hand, Jordan coached the second and third games, making it possible for Lisa to leave. But Lisa had been to the concession stand during one of those games and conspicuously noticed by everyone in that hallway. Toni was sure the pickle jar incident had happened during the last game. That left the middle game time slot for it to have been possible for Lisa to leave and return.

  It would have been a simple matter for either coach to park somewhere near the bar and take Tom’s car. All he or she would have had to do was drive Tom’s car to the school and use it, return it to the bar, and drive away in his or her own vehicle.

  Toni shook her head. If all she suspected were true, could she handle it? What if she, or anyone in her family, got hurt? Then there was still the nagging question of Dustin’s involvement and death. She had too much on her plate—and not enough on the breakfast plates—to dwell on this right now.

  Right after breakfast Kyle and the boys went outside, leaving Toni alone again. At eight-thirty she decided it was late enough to call Buck at the station.

  “Hi, Toni,” he answered tiredly. “I assume you want an update on Donnie.”

  “That’s right. How serious are his injuries?”

  “He’ll live, but his back was broken, a spinal injury that will keep him in a wheelchair the rest of his life.” His voice relayed weariness, not just from the long night, but that it was all so unnecessary.

  “While I have you, may I ask if you’ve been able to verify the alibis for Janet Rayford, Jordan Hopper and Lisa Baker?”

  “I guess you just did,” he responded gruffly. “We’ve checked their stories. Jack confirmed that he was at Janet’s house with her the morning Dustin was killed. Maybe he thinks it’s time for a little honesty, or he could be hoping Janet will change her mind and take him back if he gives her an alibi. Or maybe he just feels too guilty to do anything else. Whatever the case, Janet seems to be in the clear.”

  “What about Jordan?”

  “He was with his family the evening of December twenty-first, but he admits that he went out to gas up their van sometime during the evening. They planned to leave to visit family the next morning. The timing is pretty close to Marsha’s time of death, but he wasn’t gone very long, probably not long enough to have killed her, dragged her to the body farm and driven her car to the airport.”

  “What about the morning of January twenty-seventh?”

  “We’re still working on that. Jordan says he went out for donuts that morning. Once again, he was away from home about the right time, but probably not long enough. I plan to talk to him again, see if he can get the time frame more precise and verified.”

  “Okay. What about Lisa?”

  “That one’s even harder. She says that, at the time Marsha was killed, she was at home packing to leave for Kansas City the next morning. She’s single and lives alone, so there’s no family to vouch for her.”

  “What about when Dustin was killed?”

  “Same problem,” he said with a heavy sigh. “She claims she was in Poplar Bluff shopping that morning, that she left early. We’re trying to locate a sales clerk who saw her, or a surveillance camera that caught her, anything to prove she was there.”

  Toni rubbed her brow. “I’m worried. I can’t prove anything, but I’m getting the feeling that one of them was involved.”

  A long silence met that assertion. “I hope you’re wrong. I’ll work more on those alibis, see if we can clear them.”

  Toni spent the rest of the morning at the computer, doing paperwork for her classes and an upcoming student council project. Having a day off was nice, but this one had her feeling trapped. She wanted to be able to go about her business, take action and see people in person, to read their faces as they responded.

  During lunch Kyle received a call saying that runways were clear and flights moving again. As soon as he finished eating, he packed his flight bag and left. His promise to call that evening made Toni feel better—but only a little.

  She caught up on some housework while Gabe practiced his trombone. Toni didn’t consider herself a great cook, and she disliked housekeeping, but she liked to eat and hated clutter, and she prided herself on being organized. She knew just where the dust bunnies hid. It felt good to her ears when Gabe’s trombone quieted and he joined Garrett in a video game.

  By mid-afternoon Toni couldn’t bring herself to do any more housework. She stared out the kitchen window again and noted that the ice was nearly gone. There would surely be school the next day.

  She heard Gabe and Garrett relocate to the living room, apparently tired of the video game. She peeked around the doorway and saw them setting up the carom board on the coffee table. As she mixed jello at the counter, the clinking of caroms rang through the house.

  “I wish we could go out and ride our bikes.” It was Gabe speaking.

  “Me, too,” Garrett said. Clink. One carom hit another. “But Mom would worry if we went outside without her or Dad.”

  Toni went still, forgetting to stir the jello as she listened.

  “Yeah, I wish whoever killed Mrs. Carter and Dustin would be caught.”

  A pause was followed by a couple more clinks. Then Gabe spoke again, his voice more thoughtful. “Mom’s scared for us, and I’m scared for her. I don’t want anyone to hurt her.”

  “Do you really think someone would try to hurt us?” Garrett asked. “We’re just kids.”

  “Dustin wasn’t much older than us, and he’s dead,” Gabe pointed out in his blunt, logical way. “And somebody tried to hurt you.”

  Toni’s heart constricted, and tears welled in her eyes. She hadn’t realized the true depth to which they were affected, or how they looked at things. She picked up the bowl and took it to the refrigerator, glad they couldn’t see her crying. Placing it on a rack, she returned to the counter and began to wipe it, hardly able to see through the film in her eyes.

  Her emotions were on overload, fear for her children and herself a churning conflict. Any reasonable person would surely back off in the name of safety. But she couldn’t just quit. The mother part of her had to reconcile with her professional part—and
her sense of justice. The only way she could be sure of their safety was to find the killer. Kyle understood that.

  Lord, please keep my boys safe. Show me what to do.

  “Oh, no!” Garrett’s moan rang loudly.

  “Ha, ha,” Gabe chortled. “You put one of mine in. You lose your turn.”

  Garrett didn’t answer, and Toni assumed that play was continuing without argument. That assumption was confirmed when Gabe shouted, “I got the queen.”

  “But you have to get one of your own to keep her,” Garrett challenged.

  There was silence, and then a click. Then a moan.

  “You missed. Put the queen back,” Garrett demanded in smug satisfaction.

  Toni began to assemble the ingredients for goulash.

  “My bike’s getting too small for me.” Gabe had reverted to their former topic with lightning speed.

  “You mean you’re getting too big for it,” Garrett retorted, delighted to find an opportunity to correct his older brother.

  “Okay, you know what I mean,” Gabe responded impatiently. “I need a bigger one.”

  Another click.

  “Can I have your old one when you get the new one?” Garrett asked, not doubting that there would be a new one.

  Toni stifled the urge to correct his grammar.

  “Sure,” Gabe said magnanimously. “I want a mountain bike this time.”

  “What kind is that?”

  “It’s an ATB. That means All Terrain Bicycle,” Gabe explained.

  Count on Gabe to have done his research.

  “It’s for riding on dirt trails or other unpaved areas,” he expounded to his younger brother.

  “What do they look like?”

  Gabe laughed. “Like a bike, silly. They have thick, knobby tires for extra traction and to absorb shock.” He quoted facts in a manner that indicated he had been reading up on his subject. “It’s the kind of bike Coach Baker rides. Sometimes it’s parked behind the gym.”

  “Yeah, I remember now,” Garrett replied.

  More clicks.

  “Do you know what a bicycle calls its dad?” Garrett asked.

  Gabe moaned. “Don’t you ever get tired of reading all those dumb jokes?”

  “Ha, ha, you’re just mad because you don’t know the answer,” Garrett taunted.

  “No, I don’t know the answer,” Gabe admitted in disgust.

  “It calls him Pop-cycle!” Garret said loudly, and then paused. “Hey, let’s have a Popsicle. I want an orange one.”

  Toni hid her grin as both boys came rushing into the kitchen and headed for the refrigerator.

  Chapter 18

  After a restless night, Toni crawled out of bed and dressed in dark green khaki slacks and an avocado colored blazer with matching wedge-heeled shoes. She tried to curb her edginess as she served breakfast to the boys and took them to school. When she entered the high school, her body prickled with apprehension, but she forced herself to relax and headed directly for the gym.

  Lisa Baker’s office door was open. Inside, Toni saw the red athletic warm-up jacket clad woman at her computer, her back to the door. Toni tapped on the doorframe.

  Lisa spun her chair around, and the smile on her face vanished. “What do you want now?” Her husky voice was barely civil.

  “I have one more question I want to ask you,” Toni said with more outward confidence than she felt. She eased on into the room and perched on the edge of the chair in front of the desk. “I hear from other students and staff that Marsha used to spend a good deal of time around here.”

  She was bluffing, but if her suspicions were correct, it was worth a try. “I’m trying to learn more about her behavior toward other staff members.”

  A flash of irritation—more like malice—crossed Lisa’s face.

  Toni pressed on, determined to not be intimidated. “What I specifically want to know about is Marsha’s behavior toward you. How close were you?”

  Lisa stared at her, as if trying to decide how to rid herself of a pesky gnat. Then she issued an impatient huff and leaned forward on her elbows. “Oh, all right. Marsha started coming around the gym several months ago, complaining of an aching back and shoulders. She wanted to know if we could help her.”

  “By we, do you mean Jordan and yourself?” Toni wanted it spelled out clearly.

  “She talked to Jordan at first. He told her that massage therapy was a good idea and that she should come back when I was here, since I have experience with that.”

  “You’ve had training in physical therapy?”

  Lisa hesitated before speaking, obviously weighing her words. “When I was in college I worked for a sports medicine clinic and learned to do massage therapy,” she said at last. “In fact, I married one of the physical therapists, which was a colossal mistake. It only lasted a year. I was in the process of divorcing him when I came to work here.”

  Toni just nodded, not quite sure what to say to that. Thinking fast, she decided to bluff some more. “I heard that Marsha made overtures toward Jordan. Do you know if there’s any truth to that?”

  A fleeting look of surprise crossed Lisa’s face, but she recovered quickly. “That doesn’t shock me,” she said in what seemed a false show of unconcern. “If he didn’t respond, which I assume he didn’t, she just moved on. She liked men. Look how quickly she moved on to Jack Rayford.”

  “How did she act toward you? Was she friendly? Did she come on to you?”

  “That’s none of your business,” Lisa snapped, smacking a hand down on her desk so hard that a pen bounced off onto the floor. “Why don’t you stay in your lab where you belong and leave me alone?”

  “Because I can’t,” Toni returned heatedly. “I admit that I was driven by curiosity at first, but when someone tried to hurt my son, and then me, it got personal. Deadly personal. All I did was find Marsha’s body and answer some questions about it to the Chief of Police. Then someone, for some reason, decided that my child had become a threat and set out to get rid of him. Then that person tried to shoot me. So, no, I can’t leave it alone. Or you, so long as you know more than you’re telling.”

  Lisa visibly struggled for control, and then seemed to get a grip on herself. “Okay,” she relented grudgingly. She hauled a big breath and came upright in the chair. “I treated her with massage therapy, and she started coming around regularly.”

  Toni found this picture unsettling. She had never found Lisa an easy person to get to know, but she had never questioned the woman’s abilities or professionalism.

  Lisa shrugged. “Anyhow, she started paying a lot of attention to me and my programs. One thing led to another.”

  I’ll just bet they did. “You became lovers.”

  “I’ll admit she had me mesmerized for a while,” Lisa confessed in a manner meant to portray nonchalance. “She came on so smooth and fast that I didn’t realize what was happening, until one day she was all over me.”

  “You didn’t know she liked women as well as men?”

  Lisa shook her head. “Not until that afternoon.” She still maintained a façade of matter-of-factness.

  “What was the outcome?” Toni watched every mannerism and muscle movement.

  Lisa made a dismissive shrug. “That scene wasn’t for me, and I told her so.” She swiped a hand in the air, as if brushing away something offensive. “She stopped coming for massage therapy, and we both moved on.”

  The warning bell rang, startling both of them. In five minutes students would be pouring into classrooms. Toni bounced to her feet. “Thanks for your time.”

  Her head buzzed as she hurried to her classroom. Something else had been nagging at her for days, a vision in the back of her mind. Inside the room, she pulled her grade book and papers from her satchel, almost frantic with the need to do more things than she could manage at once.

  The final bell rang and Toni’s day rolled forward. Once she had the lecture portion of the first class covered and the students working on their pig dissections
, she was able to relax a bit. As she moved about the room, observing, making suggestions and answering questions, a small part of her brain raked through her memory, going back over every conversation with each staff member with whom she had talked.

  A kaleidoscope of pictures flicked in her head. Classes. Encounters with individuals. Funerals. Faculty meetings. Her mental camera stopped on the faculty meeting right after Dustin’s death. One image stood out—Lisa Baker and Darren Brown together. Like electricity running along a wire, the connection clicked. Darren’s brother, Dale, was a deputy—with access to police reports.

  “Mrs. Donovan, is this the pancreas?”

  The question reclaimed her attention. Toni put other thoughts on hold for the rest of that class period. And the next. As soon as third hour arrived, she called Buck Freeman.

  “I think I’ve got Marsha’s killer pegged,” she said without preliminaries. “But I can’t prove it. Will you check one more thing for me?”

  There was a pause before he answered. “Toni, I don’t want you putting yourself in danger.” His voice was gruff, but concerned.

  “I’ll be careful,” she promised. “All I have at this point is a strong theory, but I’ve remembered something that might back it up.”

  “Tell me what you’re looking for.”

  “I remember seeing Lisa Baker and Darren Brown sitting together in a faculty meeting. They seem to be much better friends than I realized. Darren is Dale’s brother.”

  “You’re wondering if either of them asked Dale about why you went looking for a body.” He spoke slowly, following her train of thought.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m wondering.”

  “Dale’s out on patrol. I’ll contact him and get back to you. Can I ring straight through to your classroom?”

  “Yes, it’s extension two hundred.”

  As soon as she disconnected, Toni headed straight back to the gym, determined to pump more information from Jordan. She found him sitting at the scorekeeper’s table in the second row of bleachers, operating the clock while two teams of students ran up and down the floor. Two more groups occupied the bottom bleachers, apparently waiting a turn in a class tournament. She climbed the steps to the table and scooted onto the bench next to him.