Privy to Murder

by Carol Shenold

  He reached out for my hand, pulled me closer and looked into my eyes. I returned the look and felt a shock of recognition that almost took hold. Before I could grab the thought, he kissed me and whatever I almost remembered, disappeared.

  His electric blue Lexus crouched in the driveway, waiting. Keith opened the door with panache. I felt like I was being ushered into a limo.

  He drove in silence for a while. I watched him, he watched the highway. I’d talked him into the idea of Cleo’s Lounge at Texhoma Lodge. A duo named Crush was singing that night and I wanted to check them out for future live entertainment at parties. Both were local singer/songwriters and developing a regional reputation.

  It wasn’t long before my attention wandered from business to just enjoying the trees, hills, soft blues on the radio and a pretty face next to me. All right, so I’m shallow. Sometimes when I looked at Keith, I had a feeling of moving back in time, but I didn’t know where or why I felt that way, a familiar turn of the chin or set of the jaw. Maybe just giddy first-date atmosphere. I stopped trying to analyze it, leaned back, closed my eyes, and let the music and motion take me away.

  Gravel crunching under the tires announced our arrival at the Lodge. A light kiss on the lips signaled that Keith was through driving and ready to play. My stomach growled and I realized that I hadn’t eaten all day, too busy primping for my first date in years.

  “Onward and upward,” Keith said, looking up at the lodge tower.

  “They do have coffee and a great view up there”, I said, following his gaze.

  “I need real food, stick to your ribs kind, or ribs.”

  “In that case, we can eat in the dining room then move to the lounge for the singers.” I led the way.

  “Does the lounge mean dancing too, as in slow, holding you close?”

  “Just drinking and listening but we’re not to far from Pampanos, they have dancing, noisy but it’s music to move to.”

  “If we don’t want noise, we can just make our own sweet music.”

  “We’ll talk about that later. You’re sounding way too serious for a first date.”

  I pulled him into the lodge dining room and we ordered. Neither one of us were on our best behavior when it came to food. You would have thought we’d been working on a construction site somewhere, for the past week. I missed the mark if I meant to give the impression of a delicate woman who eats like a bird, given the amount of barbecue I managed to inhale that evening.

  Keith wasn’t any more restrained than I was. After we reached the point of no room for anything else in our stomachs, we waddled into the lounge. A bar filled one side of the room, gold and black Egyptian decorations dominated the walls. Two girls set up equipment up in the corner. We ordered drinks and sipped. Vacationers were scattered around, most in casual dress or swim suits, except for one table of loud men, dressed in shirts, ties, out- bragging each other.

  The singers introduced themselves, in spite of the noise, and began to play guitars and sing close harmony. Yes. Perfect for private parties, pretty girls, sweet voices, hard guitars, a little Sheryl Crow thrown in for good measure.

  The obnoxious men at the round table continued to increase the volume of their exchanges. Keith’s tension grew.

  “Are you all right? Did dinner mess with you? Can I do something?”

  He whipped his head around. “You’ve done enough,” Keith shouted above the music.

  The look on his face pushed me back in my chair as forcefully as if he’d shoved me. He no longer glared at me but at the round table’s loud occupants. He uncurled himself from the chair and insinuated himself between them and the girls they heckled. Keith grabbed the largest man by his tie and pulled him upright as if the guy weighed 20 pounds. The music stopped, the room grew quiet, Keith talked low, soft, intense. When he dropped the tie, the man scrambled away from the table and ran. The rest followed.

  Keith returned to our table. “Another drink, Tali? Those girls are really good. I think you should find some work for them before they have contracts with a music company.” He flashed his engaging smile, but it stopped short of his glacial eyes. I willed myself to breathe and tried to think of a way I could get home without riding for thirty minutes alone with him.

  Just as I considered a full blown panic attack, in walked hotel security, one of JT’s deputies. I opened my mouth to make excuses to Keith and claim a nonexistent emergency but Keith was gone, out of there, disappeared like the invisible man. I was partly relieved, but why had he run, was I that repulsive and how would I get home now? So much for feeling pretty, having a date, and a relaxing evening. My life was officially back in the pit, again.

  “What happened to your date? Was he the one who scared the Florida bunch?”

  I filled him in and begged a ride home since my so-called date had deserted me.

  “Sure, but I have to make it to a domestic in Denison first, so just sit tight, listen to music and I’ll be back.” Six ten and two hundred and fifty pounds, Marcus was black as night and cheerful as day, drove JT nuts with his glass-half-full philosophy.

  I’d known when I left the house with a virtual stranger that Mumsie thought I was nuts. Seeing the guy around town lulled me into thinking he was safe, plus hormones got the best of me. God, I was stupid. I ordered another drink, feeling like a thirteen-year-old who was stood up by her first date.

  You couldn’t trust any men, especially young, cute ones. I should have been suspicious when he came on to someone older, worn out, not so cute. I felt like a fool for feeling so carefree earlier, for thinking some guy would suddenly be interested, but why did he ask me out in the first place?

  What the hell was all that about? Why was he so pissy to me after the hearts and flowers act? More reasons to never date again. And now I needed to find out more about Keith himself and his behavior. Or maybe not. He doesn’t really have anything to do with my life, I should put him out of my mind, not do the obsessing kind of thing I always do.

  But I touched him, kissed him, why didn’t I get any kind of vibes off him? If I neglect my gifts do they disappear? I didn’t see it coming, anything coming, not the murder, the house, Keith. Or have I been ignoring the mild feeling?

  I sipped my gin and tonic and listened to the singer’s voices wrap around each other’s harmonies, weave in and out of the guitar’s tones. I could read their emotions, strong friendship, lasting connection, just from their music. I needed to strengthen my perceptions. I’d neglected my meditation lately with everything going on. Maybe if I made an effort to get up in the mornings, walk out by the lake and concentrate without life interfering, I could get back in tune with my own small universe. If I did that, I might be more aware of larger influences affecting us.

  There was no use having abilities if I continued to hide from them, and if using them made life more difficult in some ways, so be it. Pushing my head into the sand wasn’t working. Tomorrow I’d make life work for me, not against me.

  * * *

  The next morning, rain soaked me as I attempted to tune-in to the universe. My calves talked to me about abusing them by walking farther than I had in a while. Wet drizzle plastered my hair onto my head, dripped down my neck, and effectively kept me from successfully tuning in to anything but my physical self, which was whining and I didn’t want to listen.

  Walking around the lake seemed like a great idea the night before, and even this morning with clouds taking out some of the August heat. But now it was muggy and damp with heavy air. I’d have to go home, dry off, re-do my hair, find new clothes. I wanted to ask JT to check out Keith, see if there was anything on him but I had no real reason to give him. A fit of temper didn’t fall into the category of legally checking the criminal background of the guy who left me stranded.

  An hour later, in JT’s office, I knew I should have listened to myself. “Tali, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. If I ran a background check on every guy who ran out on a first date, this department would get nothing els
e done. It’s not a crime to get bored on a night out and disappear.”

  I stood in front of JT, feeling like I had spinach in my teeth or a new wart on my nose, he looked at me so closely. “But JT, I just wanted to check on him for the kid’s sake. What if he’s a serial killer or something and I had let him into the house. He’s a locksmith. He can get in any time he wants.”

  “A little late to think of that, isn’t it? Kind of the barn-door-open, horse-gone kind of thing.” He cocked his head to one side. “This is the kid who went to work for the Pop-a-Lock store?”

  I nodded.

  “Just a little, or maybe a lot too young for you, isn’t he? You robbing cradles now?”

  Furious, I took a deep breath to answer him, when Donna burst into the office.

  “Oh, it’s you. What are you doing here?”

  “None of your business. Why are you here?”

  “I need to show you something, in private.”

  JT sighed. “Just show me, Donna, without the drama.”

  “Fine,” she snapped. Donna threw some photos and a letter on the desk. ”I just got this letter and these pictures. The guy says he was coming out of another outhouse, the one next to Mag’s. He saw someone come out and took a picture.” She half-smiled. “Doesn’t that look like Frank to you? Does to me.”

  I snatched the picture off the desk. It gave me the creeps. It showed a dark figure moving away from the back of the little building and me moving toward it. I shivered. I’d missed the killer by seconds and he or she could have stabbed me too.

  JT took the picture from me. “Donna, this picture is too dark to see much. Whoever took it didn’t use a flash and relied on ambient light. What makes you think a guy wrote the letter, is it signed?”

  We both looked at Donna.

  “Well… no. But read the rest of the letter. It talks about the knife that was next to the body and how Frank has one just like it.”

  JT gathered up the pictures and letter before I could get a closer look and bundled them into his desk drawer. “I’ll look at them and keep you posted. We’ll have to decide if this is from someone who really knows something or just a crank. We have no idea if he’s a credible witness.”

  Donna hesitated. “Don’t let her have them” She pointed at me, her finger an inch from my nose. She lowered her voice. “She’s friends with Frank, you know.”

  JT laughed. “Careful, Donna. She bites.”

  The girl jerked her finger back. She glared at me as if she were daring me to do anything to her before she turned and stalked through the door, slamming it behind her.

  She changed personalities as often as Keith. “Could I see the letter?”

  “No. You aren’t any closer to working for this department than Donna is. I won’t try to look up your boyfriend either. You’ll just have to deal. Next time don’t try to jump into fire. I have work to do. Go away.” He flicked his hand at me as if I were an irritating fly buzzing at me.

  I left with dignity, clutching the tattered rags of my dignity around me.”

  My cell rang before I made it to the car.

  It was Mumsie. “Come home now, Tali. I need to show you something. Hurry.”

  She hung up and I stared at the phone. What the hell had happened now?

  Chapter Twenty

  I barely made it in the front door of our house before Mumsie attacked. “Where on earth have you been, Tali?” She looked like she was about to have a stroke. Her usually well-coifed hair had been raked through until it stood on end. Anyone seeing her would think she truly was a witch.

  I used my soothing voice. “I went to pick up Sean from karate and then dropped him off at Rusty’s house so they could go swimming, takes time to drive from Love, to Marsh and back again.”

  She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the back of the house. “Come on. I have to show you something. I’ve done it over and over and it still says the same thing.”

  I tried to pry my hand loose. “Just let me get some iced tea. I’m so dry I couldn’t spit if I tried.”

  Mumsie gripped my hand and continued to pull me toward the back room. “Tea later. Come look. I did a reading for you and Sean. I did it more than once and the same thing keeps happening.”

  I stumbled along after her. “You know I’m not convinced cards really tell you anything. They’re so open to interpretation, so subjective. Besides, how did you do a reading for me and for Sean if we weren’t here? Wouldn’t that be a reading for yourself?”

  “Not if I concentrated on you and Sean instead of my own questions. You know that. Now look.” She had placed a Celtic Cross tarot spread on the card table under the window. Sunlight fell directly on the cards. “Look what is crossing you. Death.”

  Sure enough, it crossed the middle card. “And that could indicate change, not death. It’s all in the interpretation.”

  “Right, and my interpretation is not a positive one. Besides, you also have the Devil before you, The Moon for your surroundings, and The Tower as the outcome. All major arcana and not to be ignored. This is not good. You have nothing but anger, violence, greed, and dark forces gathering around you, with an outcome of catastrophe.”

  I touched the spread, feeling the heat of the sun on the table. Cold spread through me as though trying to root me to the spot, turn my heart to ice. I jerked back.

  “Okay, I admit it doesn’t look good, but there are some good cards, too.” I wouldn’t tell Mumsie what a bad feeling I got when I just touched that spread. “You know as well as I do the cards show what could happen, another reading could change it. Tomorrow could change it. I will not live in fear because of a bunch of cardboard rectangles.”

  I reached out and scrambled the cards into a mess. Mumsie looked as if I’d slapped her. I left the room.

  She followed directly behind me. “You can’t walk away and pretend this didn’t happen, ignore both our gifts.” She grabbed my arm and turned me around. “Look at me. I saw you blanch when you touched the spread. You felt what I did, and it can’t be sloughed off like a snake’s skin. You have to face it. Something evil is after this family, and I don’t think it’s as simple as Mag’s spirit. There’s more to it than that. Look at what you’ve been mired in lately, the accident, two dead bodies, and the graffiti on the house.”

  “None of those are really connected and certainly not all to us.”

  I pulled my arm away and went to the kitchen. I grabbed a tall glass, opened the fridge and helped myself to ice, a lemon wedge and raspberry tea. Lots of sugar topped it off and I sat down at the table with a sigh and stirred the tea, staring at the glass like I expected to discern a pattern in the swirling liquid.

  Mumsie rattled around, making sandwiches with ham from the night before, Swiss cheese, lettuce, tomato, and avocado slices. She added a little honey mustard dressing and sat down across from me. We always seemed to be talking, making major decisions, arguing, or simply living at the kitchen table, surrounded by food.

  Maybe, just maybe, Mumsie was right, but what could I do about it? Lord, I’m so tired of all this.

  * * *

  I’d promised to meet Cherilyn and work out. Exercise could help clear my head, get rid of cobwebs. I’d abandoned work outs since everything else happened. Janet Marin and her sister Sue ran the Curves and More gym. They were former pageant circuit kids gone entrepreneurs, who were making a fortune in the beauty and fitness business.

  I’d filled in Cher on everything, including the Keith fiasco. The foot-pounding treadmill rhythm and grunting of weight lifters surrounded us. The scent of Sue’s gourmet coffee did its best to cover up the workout odor. We were on the way to the dressing room when she dropped her bombshell.

  I stopped mid-stride and stared at her. “Arrested! Frank? Why?”

  Cherilyn plopped herself onto one of the benches to take off her shoes. She went to her locker, stripped and slipped into her suit so quickly that even the overly modest wouldn’t have been offended. She spoke over her left shoulder while
she changed. “I guess JT thinks he killed Betty Ann.”

  “That’s stupid. I know Frank. He wouldn’t kill anyone.” I took my suit out of the locker and disappeared behind a curtain. I wasn’t as fast a quick-change artist or as confident about my own body. I’d offend myself if I changed in public.

  “You haven’t been around him for years and years. Who knows what he might be willing to do, or might be capable of doing? You’re way too trusting of people when you think you know them. Look at Keith.”

  “You look at Keith. I don’t want to, thanks. I cannot go through life not trusting anyone. That’s death, not life.”

  As we walked out of the dressing room and into the pool area, chlorine fumes slapped us in the face and took my breath away. One of the things I hated about indoor pools, any pool for that matter. We dove in and swam laps after we adjusted to the cold shock of the water. Stressing the sore muscles felt good, especially the ones that had stiffened after my wet morning walk.

  I pictured Frank in the county jail. Maybe it was intuition or call it my gift, but I couldn’t accept the idea that Frank was honestly capable of killing a human being, even if everyone else did.

  * * *

  The next day I went to visit Frank at the CountyJail. “I’m on his visitor’s list,” I told the man at the desk.

  “I have to check.” He ran his finger down the long list before he showed me into a visitor’s room. I had to put my purse and cell in a drawer before I went in.

  “Thank God. Does this mean you don’t think I murdered Betty Ann? Everyone else does.”

  Frank looked like death himself. The orange jump suit didn’t help. The reflection on his skin turned him hepatitis yellow. He plopped into the chair on his side, I sat on the other side of the table.

  “No, Frank, I don’t. But for no good reason I can name. Tell me why I should believe you had nothing to do with anything? You were there when your wife was killed, and Betty Ann was killed at your place.”

  He sighed and when he spoke, his voice rasped. “I know. I have no explanation. I don’t even have a real alibi for Betty Ann’s murder, since I’d left the office and hadn’t returned when she was attacked.”