The woman showed no emotion when she said, “My husband died fifteen years ago of liver failure. I don’t think there’s any need to investigate.”
Pepper was only mildly embarrassed.
“I’m sorry, and I’m sorry for your loss. I was asking about Oscar. Oscar Preston. We have this as his address.”
“Oscar was my son,” she said and held the door open wider. “You may as well come in. No sense standing here talking with the door open.”
We followed her into the kitchen, where she instructed the three of us to have a seat at the table. She resumed rolling out pie dough on the counter.
“I’d offer you some coffee, but I haven’t made any yet,” she said. “With family arriving this weekend for Oscar’s funeral next week, I need to get these pies baked, and I’m afraid it will take me all day.”
Jackie walked over to stand beside her. “Do you have an extra apron? Before I was a journalist, I was a baker. I’d be happy to take over for a while.”
“You won’t be sorry,” Pepper said. “Jackie’s pies are well-known all over Buxley. She’s famous for them.”
For the first time, emotion showed on the woman’s face – gratitude mixed with fatigue.
“Let me make the coffee,” Pepper said. “Show me where everything is, and I’ll get it going in a jiffy.”
It didn’t take long before Jackie was up to her elbows in flour, dough, and pie filling. Mrs. Preston, Pepper, and I sat at the table with mugs of hot coffee in front of us.
“Mrs. Preston,” Pepper said, ready to ask her first question. “What-”
“Please, call me Elsie.”
“Like the cow,” Pepper blurted out.
I swear, Pepper had no filter between her brain and her mouth, much like her son Keith. At least with Keith, we could say it was genetic. I had no idea what Pepper’s excuse was. I take that back. She was definitely a chip off Mama’s block.
Elsie smiled. “It’s been quite a few years since anyone has made the cow reference, but I went all through grade school with kids mooing at me.”
“Wow, that was bullying even back then,” Pepper said.
Elsie looked pensive. “No. Not really. I don’t remember kids being mean or cruel like when Oscar was growing up. The mooing was in fun, and I knew the boys who mooed at me liked me.”
“Was Oscar bullied?” I asked.
“A little,” she said. “He was always round in a Humpty Dumpty kind of way. He had plenty of teasing about his egg shape and size. Sometimes he couldn’t hide his hurt feelings, but for the most part, he took it in stride.”
Pepper took a small notebook and a pen from her purse. “What was Oscar like as a child?” she asked.
I shot a couple of eye daggers Pepper’s way. She ignored me. I had given her free rein to ask whatever questions she wanted, but I had no idea why she wanted to ask about his childhood.
Pepper and Mrs. Preston talked on and on about Oscar as a young boy. The only thing I was getting from their conversation was that Oscar’s father drank too much, was out of town frequently, and consequently, Oscar was a mama’s boy, much like our younger brother Hank was when he was a child.
I drank my coffee, poured myself a second cup, and eventually helped Jackie by filling the pie shells before she added a decorative top crust and fluted the edges perfectly.
When she had two cherry and two apple pies in the oven, with four more waiting their turn, we sat at the table with Pepper and Elsie. I interrupted Pepper’s questions about Oscar’s prom date his senior year of high school.
“We have to leave soon,” I said pointedly, letting Pepper know I was taking over. “Elsie, what can you tell us about Ellis Rich?”
A deep frown crossed her face. “The man is a crook,” she said vehemently. “He swindled people out of their life savings. He stole Oscar’s money, too.”
Pepper gasped. “How did he do that?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” she said. “Oscar explained it to me once, but it was so confusing. He gave Ellis money to invest for him, and Ellis did invest it, but he didn’t give Oscar the proper returns. Oscar said it was like if you went to Vegas and your friend gave you a hundred dollars to bet on the craps table. You place the one hundred dollar bet, say this money is my friend’s, and it hits for ten thousand dollars. Are you going to give your friend the ten thousand dollars?”
“Yes,” Pepper whispered, her eyes wide.
“No, of course not,” I said. “I’d keep that money for myself and say the next hundred dollar bet was my friend’s. Everybody would, and you would, too, Pepper.”
“I would not.”
“Would to. And chances are, Buck would be with you in Vegas, and you know full well he’d never let you bring ten thousand dollars home to me.”
She screwed up her face. “You’re right. He’d have a limit as to how much money he’d let you win – like five hundred dollars, and only then if we won money, too.”
“Which is why you should never give your friends money to bet for you,” Jackie said.
Elsie nodded. “Ain’t it the truth. But it was more complicated than that. Oscar said something about securities, too. Ellis would buy worthless securities and credit them to his clients while keeping their valuable securities for himself.”
“There had to be a paper trail,” Jackie said. “There’s no way he could get away with that kind of fraud today.”
Elsie shook her head. “Oscar said Ellis was a master manipulator when it came to the paperwork. Everything was handled through offshore accounts, and most of his clients didn’t understand how the transactions took place. Ellis only showed them how much money he was making for other clients, all lies I might add, and they’d happily hand over their assets to him. Unfortunately, Oscar did, too.”
Pepper poured herself a second cup of coffee and asked, “May I use your bathroom?”
Elsie nodded. “It’s right around the corner to your left. The light switch is on the right.”
Jackie shot a smile my way. She knew we’d be getting a medicine chest report on the way home.
I returned my focus to Elsie. “Was Oscar married?”
She shook her head. “No. He never married, and he only dated a few times. I blame myself for his never leaving home. I babied him his entire life, and I think he didn’t want to see what life could or would be like living on his own.”
“I’m sorry to ask,” I said reluctantly, “but could Oscar’s death have been a suicide?”
“Suicide? Not a chance. Oscar may have been a homebody, but he would never kill himself. He was shy, but he loved life.” For the first time since we arrived, she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed away a few tears. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cry. I don’t want to cry. If I break down now, I’ll never be able to get ready for family.”
We allowed her a few moments to collect herself.
“No,” she said. “Suicide shouldn’t even be considered. Oscar wanted revenge, not suicide.”
Revenge. It had crossed my mind Oscar knew the box was loaded with explosives, but I hadn’t considered that he may have been planting the bomb when it accidentally went off. That would explain why Ellis Rich had no knowledge of the bomb.
“If Oscar wanted revenge,” I said, “why was he at the bank with a power of attorney allowing him access to Mr. Rich’s safe deposit box?”
Elsie look puzzled. “I have no idea. I couldn’t have been more shocked when the police officer showed up here and told me what happened.” She closed her eyes and shook her head as if to chase the thought away. “But that nice officer’s words have helped me tremendously the past two days.”
Pepper walked back into the room, gave Jackie and me a subtle thumbs up, and asked with a big smile, “What nice officer? What did he say?”
“I don’t remember his name, but he held my hand and assured me Oscar felt no pain. It all happened in an instant. One second, he was in the bank, and the next second, he was in heaven and happy. I know
Oscar is with his daddy, a better daddy than he was when he was alive, and he’s with his grandparents, too. I can hold onto that for now and know I’ll see them all again myself one day.”
Jackie reached over and placed her hand on Elsie’s. “That’s a lovely way to look at a difficult situation.” She glanced at Pepper and me. “We should be going. I’m sure Elsie has a lot to do today.”
I nodded but asked another question. “Did Oscar keep any files or notebooks? Anything that had to do with his investments or Ellis Rich?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. Oscar has a computer in his room, but it’s password protected, and I don’t know the password. You won’t be able to access his files, but if you want to take a look around his room, you might find something helpful.”
Pepper and I left Jackie to chat with Elsie while we went into Oscar’s small, sparsely furnished bedroom. It would have felt cold if it weren’t for the handmade quilt and cross stitch pillows on the bed. A small table in the corner held his computer. There were no folders, paperwork, or books in the room.
Pepper rifled through the dresser drawers while I made a quick search of the closet.
“What exactly are we looking for?” Pepper asked.
“We’re looking for thumb drives or notebooks or investment reports or a client list. If Oscar wanted revenge, maybe he found proof of Ellis Rich’s fraud and was blackmailing him.”
“If he was blackmailing him, why would Mr. Rich send him to his bank deposit box at the bank?”
“Maybe to get a blackmail payment. I don’t know, but he gave him a power of attorney, so he sent him there for something.”
Pepper looked under the bed. She then began to check under each corner of the mattress.
I half snorted. “People don’t hide things under their mattresses anymore. It’s the first place burglars, police, and mothers look for stuff.”
Pepper pulled out a crumpled girly magazine. “Ewww,” she said and quickly shoved it back under the mattress. “No one told Oscar not to use the bed as a hiding place.”
She checked the last corner at the head of the bed and pulled out a small blue notebook. After a quick flip through the pages, she handed it to me. “It’s blank.”
Elsie stuck her head through the doorway. “You girls find anything?”
I was glad Pepper wasn’t still holding the magazine. “Just this little notebook. It might be blank.” I flipped through the pages and found one near the back with a list of names that appeared to have been hastily scribbled. I showed it to Elsie. “Are these names familiar to you?”
She scanned the list and shook her head. “I don’t know any of these people.”
“May we take this with us?” I asked. “If we can find out who these people are and how they connect to one another, we might be able to find out if they’re related to the bombing.”
“Of course,” Elsie said.
We made our way back to the kitchen. Jackie already had her coat on and was ready to leave. Elsie expressed her gratitude to her for her help with the pies. We said our goodbyes with more condolences for Oscar’s death and headed for Pepper’s car.
Pepper wasn’t even strapped in before saying excitedly, “That Elsie sure is a nice lady.”
I knew the niceness of Elsie wasn’t what was fueling Pepper’s excitement.
“All right, spill it,” I said. “What did you find in the bathroom?”
She became more animated as she backed out of the driveway. “It was definitely Oscar’s medicine chest. There were a lot of moustache supplies like wax and combs, but there were also a couple of prescriptions. One was for blood pressure, and the other was for…” She appeared to pause for effect. “It was for depression,” she said with triumph.
Jackie and I exchanged puzzled glances.
“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked. “Lots of people take medicine for depression.”
“Not this stuff. I looked into depression medicines a few months ago when one of the other substitute teachers at the school confided in me that she was depressed and didn’t even get out of bed most days. This medicine is so powerful, it’s one of the last a doctor will prescribe to help a patient.”
“Oscar seemed perfectly fine when he came into the office,” I said. “And Elsie didn’t mention anything about him being depressed.”
“Why do you think it’s important?” Jackie asked Pepper.
“I think Jo’s right that Oscar committed suicide. He wanted revenge on Ellis Rich, so why not kill two birds with one stone?”
I understood her thought process. Oscar could kill himself with a bomb in the safe deposit box. The police would then charge Ellis Rich with the murder. With his death, Oscar would enact his revenge.
“Nah,” I said. “He would have wanted to live to see Ellis behind bars. I’m leaning toward the theory he accidentally blew himself up while planting the bomb.”
“Did he have bomb materials on him when you took him to the bank? Did he have a suitcase or even a briefcase?” Pepper asked sarcastically.
I rolled my eyes. “No, but he could have had the stuff in his pockets or even the lining of his jacket. Bombs can be pretty small these days.”
“Both theories are plausible,” Jackie said, “but neither explains why someone took a shot at Oscar outside the bank.”
“Maybe the shot wasn’t meant for him,” Pepper asked.
“Then it would have been meant for me,” I said. “And at that close range, unless the gunman was blind, there’s no way he would have missed.”
“Or she,” Pepper said. “It could have been a woman shooting at you.”
“Why would a woman shoot at me?”
“Duh. For the same reason a man would.”
Jackie turned slightly in her seat to look at me. “Why didn’t you tell Elsie you were with Oscar in the bank? You were the last person to see him alive.”
Pepper jumped in her seat. “Oh my gosh, I almost told her myself, so you could tell her about Oscar’s last moments on Earth, but then I had to think if you would yell at me or not if I told her, and then maybe she would be mad at you and not tell us anything at all, so I decided to wait for you to bring it up.”
Jackie was looking at me as if not telling Elsie I was with Oscar was part of my overall not being fine.
With mild exasperation, I said, “Unless she mentioned it, there was no reason to bring it up. I wasn’t going to tell her he wanted protection and then someone took a shot at him. I wasn’t going to tell her the gunshot scared him so much he fainted. And I definitely wasn’t going to tell her what the blast was like. Oscar’s suicide or murder is an ongoing investigation, so there are some details that shouldn’t be shared. The police probably haven’t questioned her yet.”
“Why would they?” Pepper asked. “She’s not a suspect in her son’s death.”
“When you talk with Glenn later,” Jackie said, “ask him if they’re going to question her.”
“Will do,” I said before pushing the back of Pepper’s seat. “What was your major malfunction in there anyway, asking all those questions about Oscar’s childhood? None of that had anything to do with his death, and we lost a lot of time. We didn’t ask where he worked, or how he knew Ellis Rich, or even how long ago he invested his money.”
“Hey, you said I could ask anything I wanted, so don’t go getting all up in my junk now. I was trying to break the ice and be nice at first, but she seemed so happy to talk about him as a child, I didn’t have the heart to stop her.” She looked at me in her rear view mirror. “You should try harder to find that heart of yours more often, Jo. You’re not always a very nice person.”
“Turn left at the next light,” Jackie said, referencing the GPS on her phone. “Wally Kline’s street is four down on the left.”
What was Pepper talking about? I was a nice person. People liked me. I was so nice, Glenn married me. Pepper was nuts, and if she thought she was so perfect, she could talk to Wally Kline about his stupi
d Brussels sprouts herself. I wasn’t getting involved.
Like Pepper had done earlier, I folded my arms across my chest and pouted.
Chapter Eight
Pepper’s words had cut deep. I knew I had faults, but I never thought heartless was one of them. I wasn’t mean to people, and I wasn’t a bully. I was professional in my work and nice to friends and family. Well, I didn’t really have any friends, and I wasn’t always nice to Pepper or Mama, but for crying out loud, they were family, and they were fair game for whatever I dished out. Besides, they sure knew how to dish it back. And when the chips were down, we came together and had each other’s backs. So, what was her problem?
I hung my head. I knew what her problem was.
Over the past three days, she had taken the brunt of my frustration from the explosion, to the poster and the business cards, to her smelly coat, and even the picture in the newspaper. I couldn’t seem to stop snapping at her over every little thing.
I owed her another apology, but it would likely fall on deaf ears. Her feelings were hurt, and I knew she wouldn’t feel better until we had a heart to heart talk with some groveling from me.
And even though I knew and understood all this, I couldn’t shake the stubborn streak I had inherited from Mama, and I refused to leave the car when we pulled into Wally Kline’s driveway.
“I’m going to take the doctor’s advice and rest while you two talk with him. You can fill me in when you come out.”
“Do you trust me to ask the right questions?” Pepper asked, her hurt feelings on display.
“It’s your case. You can do whatever you want.”
Jackie turned to flash a sympathetic smile my way before exiting the car. I closed my eyes and pretended to rest. Jackie’s problem was that she thought I was more messed up than I was admitting over Oscar being blown up. It was becoming clear I should have stayed home today.
I watched through slits in my eyes as they walked to the door. Mr. Kline must have seen us pull in. He had the door open to whisk the two women inside before they reached the stoop.
Murder Breaks the Bank Page 7
