A quick shower and twenty minutes later, I was sitting at the kitchen table with a toasted English muffin smothered with a cheese sauce Glenn had loaded with chopped hard-boiled eggs and bacon. Now this was a breakfast I could appreciate – comfort food at its finest.
“Did you remember to thaw out the turkey?” I asked. “You know it takes a couple of days to thaw a turkey.”
Glenn looked horrified. “I have to thaw the turkey? I was going to do it outside in the turkey fryer. I thought I could drop it in frozen.”
The smile on Nancy’s face gave him away - that and the fact we didn’t own a turkey fryer.
“I’ve had a fresh turkey on order for over a month now,” he said with a smile. “I’m picking it up at Dell’s Meat Market at noon.” His cell phone buzzed on the counter. He took it into the dining room.
“Thank you for helping Glenn with dinner,” I said to Nancy. “I’m a bit of a bull in a china shop when it comes to prepping and cooking.”
“It’s my pleasure,” she said. “Glenn said we’re going to make three different stuffings today – traditional, oyster, and cracker. We’ll decide which we like best and make that to stuff the bird.”
I felt a pang of envy at the fun they’d be having, but I knew I’d be more of a hindrance to Glenn than a help. I was just happy Nancy and Hank were having a good time while they stayed with us.
“Have you been over to the flea market very much?” I asked Hank.
“Every day. Mama’s got a good thing going there, doesn’t she? The place is always busy.”
Glenn came back into the kitchen with a concerned look on his face.
“I have to go to the station for a couple of hours. Sarge has called the entire department in for a meeting.”
“What do you think it’s about?” I asked.
“Christmas bonuses,” Nancy said.
“Thanksgiving turkeys,” Hank said.
“No. Nothing like that,” Glenn said. “Collins said Sarge is in a mood this morning.” He looked lost in thought for a few moments before saying softly, “I hope it’s not a round of layoffs at the holidays.”
“That can’t possibly be it,” I said. “Crime is usually up over the holidays, and the entire department has been busy.”
“Yeah, but we had those budget cuts a few months back.” He turned to leave the kitchen. “I have to wear my uniform, so it’s definitely police business.”
I helped Nancy clean up the kitchen, and Glenn left for work, promising to be back as soon as possible.
I headed to the basement to look over my whiteboard. I wanted all the details of Oscar Preston’s murder fresh in my mind when I talked with Benny at the bank.
It didn’t take long before I was stumped. There was no way to know how Oscar came up with the list of names in his notebook. And were the names reason enough for blackmail? Ellis Rich didn’t deny Oscar was blackmailing him. He simply threw Ken under the bus. It seemed obvious to me Ellis would rather face possible fraud charges than murder charges.
Oscar’s bank records had showed no unusual deposits. It never occurred to me to check his mother’s bank activity. I pulled up one of my work programs and ran Elsie’s information.
Jackpot.
For the past four months, up to the time of Oscar’s death, Elsie had been depositing a thousand dollars a week into her savings account. That was quite a chunk of change for a woman who was likely on Social Security.
The question now was how did Oscar get his blackmail payments? Did he always take them from Ellis’ safe deposit box at the bank? No. Benny didn’t recognize Oscar when we showed up last week, so Oscar had never been there before. Ellis must have sent Oscar to his box last Wednesday for the sole purpose of blowing him up and ending the blackmail. But, if that were true, then why send Ken to shoot him before he went into the bank?
My head was spinning. There was a piece to this puzzle that was missing. Something in the back of my mind told me it was right here in front of me, but I couldn’t find it. I needed to go to the bank. They’d probably close early today, so I didn’t want to wait too long to head out.
- - - - -
A sick feeling formed in the pit of my stomach when I walked into the lobby of Buxley Bank and Trust. Not only did I hate what had happened here, but I also hated the cold, foreboding feeling of the building.
I made a snap decision. As much as I disliked that gossipy, nasty Vicki at Citizens Bank, I was moving our accounts back there next week. I didn’t feel safe here … and I didn’t just mean my money.
I walked downstairs and made my way to Benny’s station at the safe deposit boxes. I was surprised to see Danny McNutt in his place. He jumped up from his stool and rushed forward to give me a hug.
I suddenly remembered why we never had a second date. It was because he spent the night trying to get to first base. I pushed him away but didn’t comment on his inappropriate hug.
“I finally found out what happened here last week,” he said. “You were really lucky.”
“And Oscar Preston was unlucky,” I said dryly. “Is Benny here today?”
“He’s upstairs in records. Said he’d be back in about fifteen minutes if you want to wait.” He patted the stool beside him.
“No thanks. I’ll check back later.”
I passed Hugh Oakes’ office on the way back to the lobby. No one was around, so I quickly reached out and tried the door handle. It wasn’t locked.
His office wasn’t messy, but it wasn’t as neat as when we were in here on Saturday. I’d have to check with Glenn to be sure, but I suspected Sergeant Rorski had the office searched after arresting the bank manager.
I sat behind the desk and looked through the drawers. Arnie was always reminding me to leave no stone unturned. A clue could turn up anywhere, and I should be looking everywhere.
Today, however, the desk had no clues to give. I even pulled out the middle drawer, set it on the desktop, and felt inside the empty opening for a secret compartment or a lever to open one. I smiled at my actions, knowing this was something that only happened in movies, but the desk was a large, heavy antique and could have a hiding place. It was worth a try.
Before sliding the drawer back in place, I lifted it to check the underside. This was also a favorite hiding place in movies for keys or valuable documents.
I was shocked to find a faded five-by-seven clasp envelope taped to the bottom of the drawer. It wasn’t just taped at the top and bottom. It had been taped across all four sides to hold it firmly in place. The tape had yellowed but still held firm. I pulled it off and replaced the drawer.
The envelope contained newspaper clippings and a handwritten letter To Whom It May Concern. A previous bank manager, Timothy Smithers, had penned the letter with instructions if he should die under unusual circumstances, the person highlighted in the newspaper stories had already threatened him and should be the first suspect. I recognized the man in the photos. He was younger, but the man was definitely Benny.
This discovery was exciting but not a complete surprise as Arnie had already told me he suspected Benny as the person placed at the bank through the witness protection program.
What was a complete surprise was his original name. A light bulb went off over my head, and the missing piece to my puzzle fell into place. Benny knew who murdered Oscar Preston.
I sent a text to Glenn in all caps to express my urgency. I KNOW WHO KILLED OSCAR. SEND TEAM TO BB&T NOW!!!!!!
Sergeant Rorski had all his officers at the station, so I hoped Glenn would be able to convince him to send a couple of units.
I returned the contents to the envelope and shoved it into my bag before peeking out the door. All clear.
I made my way to the corner and peered around to see Danny McNutt still at Benny’s station. I hightailed it up the stairs to the third floor without passing anyone.
The door to the records room was almost at the end of the long hallway. Once again, the handle turned and the door opened. I closed the door
behind me.
“Benny?” I called out. “It’s Jo Wheeler. Danny said you were up here. I have a few more questions for you.”
I waited a few seconds for him to answer, but it was quiet.
I pulled my cell phone from my bag and called Jackie. She sounded harried when she answered the phone.
“Pies are in the oven, and I’m working on six more. I only have two minutes before I have to rotate everything.”
“I’m at the bank, and I’m trying to find Benny to ask him a few more questions. There might be a big story in his answers, so I’m going to put my phone in my pocket. Put me on speaker and leave the line open. You can work while you listen.”
I placed my phone in my shirt pocket with the speaker facing outward.
“Can you hear me?” I asked in a normal tone of voice.
“Surprisingly well,” she said.
“Ok. I won’t be speaking to you again, so don’t respond to anything I say.”
“Roger that and I’m out,” she said.
I took my first good look around. The room was long, at least the size of four offices. Six large windows with working sashes were spaced evenly on the outside wall. One window was open about an inch. I assumed it was open to allow fresh air into the room. The problem with this was the earlier light rain had now turned to an ice-rain mix, and the wind had picked up considerably allowing the wintry mix to coat the linoleum beneath the window.
I closed the window and called out again. “Benny? Are you here?”
Two conference-sized tables filled the space between the windows and at least a dozen rows of floor to ceiling shelving units. The shelves were loaded with boxes. One of the tables held several open boxes with many of the folders removed and tossed onto the table. My first impression was someone was looking for something.
A quick glance showed the folders held employee files from years ago. It still boggled my mind the bank had hard copies of this information and hadn’t transferred it to microfiche and then later stored it on computer files.
“Danny said you’re looking for me.”
I jumped at the sound of Benny’s voice but managed a smile. “I am. I have just a few more questions about Oscar’s death, and I think I can put this whole thing to rest.”
“It’s already put to rest. Hugh Oakes planted the bomb to kill Ellis Rich, but he accidentally blew up Oscar Preston. Any jury in the world would convict him.”
“I don’t think so. No matter what theory I come up with, the problem always comes back to the signature cards.”
“I’m lookin’ for them,” he said. I’ve been going through these boxes in case someone took them and hid them up here.”
“They’re not up here, Benny.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you took them. I finally realized when Oscar and I came to the bank, you didn’t have him fill out a signature card. Why was that?”
“I must’ve forgot.”
“I don’t think so. You’ve been meticulous about your records for thirty-five years. It’s second nature for you to get a signature. You didn’t get one from Oscar, because you had already removed the cards. You knew Jerome Conner had been in Ellis Rich’s safe deposit box with a power of attorney. Ellis himself opened the box two days later. By getting rid of the cards, you could make a case for Jerome Conner being the last person to open the box, plant the bomb, and you’d have the power of attorney to prove it.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“It has everything to do with it, because you were the only person who would have had an opportunity to make an impression of Ellis Rich’s key and have a duplicate made. You planted the bomb. You lost your life savings to Ellis Rich and hated him so much you wanted him dead. You were expecting Ellis to open his box in the next week or two. That’s why you were so rattled when Oscar showed up. How could you let him do it, Benny? How could you?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Everyone knows you’re a nutjob, and you don’t have any proof.”
“Ah, but I do. Oscar Preston was blackmailing Ellis Rich. He had proof of the scams Ellis was pulling on his clients. I found a list of some of Ellis’ fraud victims in Oscar’s house. There was a name at the bottom of the list. It was as though this person never existed. Maybe you’ve heard the name before – Giuseppe Giovanni. He was some scumbag up in New York who used to sell bennies to children.” I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise. “Imagine that. Your nickname is the same as the drug’s nickname.”
All color drained from his face. “My name is Benjamin Miller. Has been all my life. I have no idea who Giuseppe Giovanni is.”
I reached into my bag and pulled out the clasp envelope. “I found something interesting in Hugh Oakes’ office. Newspaper clippings with your picture identifying you as Giuseppe Giovanni and a letter written by Timothy Smithers indicating you had threatened him, and he feared for his life. Did you know this existed? Is this what you’ve been looking for?”
Benny stood motionless.
I forged ahead with my theory. “I assume you two were at an impasse. He knew who you were and could out you to the people you testified against, and you threatened him with his life if he didn’t keep quiet.”
Anger was clear in Benny’s voice when he said, “I had a good thing here, and I wasn’t going to let that sanctimonious blowhard manager take it away.”
“What happened to him? Did he retire? Move away? Or should I have my journalist friend look into what happened to Timothy Smithers, ex-bank manager of Buxley Bank and Trust?”
Jackie couldn’t help herself and muttered, “I’m on it.” Her voice was as clear as if she were standing here with us.
I could see rage building behind the old man’s eyes. I scooted around the table, putting it between us. Behind me, I could hear police sirens. I backed up to the window I had closed and peered over my shoulder. Glenn and Clay were exiting their cruiser.
I threw open the window and yelled, “Up here!”
When I turned back to Benny, he charged at me like a bull, pushed me through the window, and grabbed my ankles. His effort was made easier by my feet slipping out from under me on the wet linoleum.
The back of my head cracked the raised sash when he pushed. I couldn’t believe my butt and most of my upper body were now hanging outside. I grasped the window edges to hold on and attempt to gain some leverage.
“Benny, don’t do this,” I said in a panicked voice. “The police are already here. You’ll never get away with this.”
“Oh, yes I will. There are ways out of the bank no one knows about. I’ll be long gone, and you won’t be talking.”
Still holding my ankles, he pushed again, forcing my hands off the window and propelling me out the window. I was aghast at his strength.
He continued to hold my ankles only for a few moments before saying, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Wheeler. I didn’t mean for it to end this way.”
I closed my eyes and screamed all the way down.
Chapter Seventeen
“Pass the mashed tah,” I said with a bit of a slur.
Keith pretended to howl with laughter and hold his side. “Mashed tah? What’s that?”
Buck reached over to whap him, but Keith was quick to jump from his seat and miss his dad’s backhand. He picked up the bowl of potatoes and handed them to me. “They’re mashed potatoes, Aunt Jo. I don’t think you can ask for mashed tah in a restaurant and get these.”
Kelly added to her brother’s jab. “Maybe she meant to say mashed taters.”
“Knock it off,” Glenn said with a smile. “You guys know your Aunt Jo is on painkillers right now. She might say some strange things for the next forty-eight hours, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t thinking straight, and she knows you’re making fun of her.”
“S’ok,” I said. “I think it’s funny, too. Mama will get more fodder for her cosmic act.”
“Cosmic act,” Keith repeated as though it was the funniest thing in
the world.
Buck’s hand connected with the back of Keith’s head this time. Keith didn’t seem to mind. I think he viewed the whaps from his parents as love taps and knew they weren’t harsh punishment.
“Comedy act,” I said. “I’ll be fine soon. I don’t even think I need these pills. I only took them because Glenny made me.”
My eyes flew open wide. I hadn’t called him Glenny since I babysat for him when he was eleven and I was sixteen. It almost sounded pervy coming out of my mouth.
It wasn’t Keith who howled with laughter this time. It was Glenn. His laughter was contagious, and soon everyone at the table was laughing – everyone but me.
“Oh wow,” he said when his laughter subsided. “Do you know you’re the only person ever in my life to call me that?” I shook my head. “And don’t ever do it again,” he said, giving me a kiss on my forehead.
“I won’t be taking any more pills, so I ‘sure you it won’t happen again.”
Mama frowned. “You were nearly killed, Jo. If it weren’t Thanksgiving Day, you’d still be in the hospital under observation, and they’d be pumping you full of pain meds.” She shook her head and tsk-tsked. “You shouldn’t have checked yourself out.”
“Yeah,” Pepper said, echoing her sentiments. “We could have made arrangements and brought Thanksgiving dinner to you at the hospital.”
“And Officer Collins,” Keith said. “He’d like our food better than the hospital’s, and it’s Aunt Jo’s fault he’s in there now.” He looked at his mom while ducking his dad’s backhand. “Can we take him some leftovers this afternoon?”
“It’s not Jo’s fault Tom is in the hospital,” Glenn said. “He was a hero and probably saved her life.”
I was sorry Tom was in the hospital, but I was grateful to all the guys on the force who rushed forward when they saw Benny forcing me through the window. They only had seconds to form a circle and lock arms in an attempt to make a human net to break my fall.
Murder Breaks the Bank Page 16
