Over Troubled Water: A Hunter Jones Mystery

by Charlotte Moore

  “It can’t be helped, Taneesha,” Sam said patiently, “I’m going to speak to his sister after the funeral and explain that it was a surprise to all of us that he said that. This way you get the morning off, but I need all three of you at Annie Chapman’s funeral. That’ll be a big crowd and a long entourage out to the cemetery. I’m going to be keeping my eye on Andy if he shows up.”

  “What about the Jordan guy?” Bub asked. “Are we sending anybody to his funeral?”

  “They don’t want anybody,” Sam said, “His father made that very clear to the mayor. It’s way up in North Georgia and will be small and private, so I don’t think there’d be anything to learn anyway.”

  He looked out his office window.

  “It’s a beautiful Saturday,” he said. “I’m sorry we have to spend the whole day doing this.”

  China Jackson Carson’s funeral was emotional from start to finish, with the new young pastor, who had watched the television coverage, deciding on his own to bring up her pregnancy.

  “Today,” he began, “We say goodbye to a mother and her baby…”

  Russell Carson broke down. His sister and brother comforted him. Others began to weep – except, Skeet noted, China’s brother and sister, who sat together, expressionless. Harley put his arm protectively around his sister while his wife Sally bawled.

  Sam looked around for unfamiliar faces but saw none. He noticed that Sasha Richards was there, looking exhausted.

  The Superintendent of Schools spoke briefly about what an exceptional employee China had been, how it had been her job to make everyone who entered the Board of Education offices feel welcome.

  “She had a warmth about her,” he said, “a natural friendliness and a beautiful smile. Everyone will miss her.”

  Skeet saw that this brought India to tears. He was glad when the service was over, and even gladder that the burial was nearby in the church cemetery. He caught Sam’s eye, and they both went quickly out ahead of the pallbearers.

  Sam made it home for a late lunch with his wife and daughter.

  Hunter greeted him with the news that they had been invited to Sunday dinner by Tyler Bankston and his wife, Ellie.

  “He wants to talk about the paper and get my take on what’s going on with the news,” she said. “I can tell he’s looking forward to coming back for a while. He sounded downright delighted that I’m planning to start my maternity leave on Wednesday.”

  “So am I,” Sam said, between bites of potato salad and ham, “I hope Miss Ellie isn’t going to make that awful asparagus casserole again.”

  “Sam Bailey, everybody in the world loves asparagus but you,” Hunter said.

  “I don’t,” Bethie said. “I hate it.”

  “Well, we never have it because of your dad, so I didn’t know that,” Hunter said. “But Baby Bailey will love it. I’m going to make baby food asparagus casserole in the blender.”

  After Bethie had gone off to talk on the phone with her friend Amelia, Hunter asked about China Carson’s funeral.

  “It was awful,” he said. “You really don’t want to hear about it.”

  “And the other’s at three?”

  “Yep, and I just hope Andy Chapman will behave if he shows up.”

  “I’d like to meet his sister,” Hunter said. “I think she must have remarkable patience.”

  “And I hope you will meet her,” Sam said, “Because once all this is settled down, if her brother doesn’t want to buy the house, I really want you to see it.”

  Hunter smiled. She had been through seven houses with Sam, including two she would have gladly moved into, but he had found shortcomings in all of them. In one, he considered the staircase too steeply built for their old age, and in another, he couldn’t see past the disastrous shag carpeting and the dining room wallpaper. A third had too little back yard space.

  There was always a problem, except with the Roland home, which Hunter wouldn’t consider because of its recent history. A young woman had died in the house, and the owner had been shot in the yard. Their dog, Flannery, had been shot there, too, protecting her first owner. She was wearing a cast on her leg the day they brought her home from the veterinarians, and still had a slight limp two years later .

  Sam had thought he could live with the Roland ghosts to have that Queen Anne masterpiece, but Hunter wasn’t considering it.

  “Has anybody been murdered in the Chapman house?” she asked Sam.

  “No,” he said. “Not a soul. What’s for dessert?”

  From Sam’s perspective, Annie Chapman’s funeral was more comforting than China Carson’s had been.

  Andy Chapman didn’t show up, which simplified things.

  Sunshine cried into her handkerchief and was comforted by her mother’s friends as the pastor and others talked about Annie’s boundless energy, her creativity, her unique personality. There were even a few ripples of laughter about her fixed notions about food, and the contortions her Yoga students went through to please her. Sasha Richards had made it to that funeral, too, and didn’t manage a smile. Sam thought she looked worried and preoccupied.

  After the service, the hearse and a long stream of cars wound through town to the old cemetery, where the casket was to be lowered into the ground. Skeet and Bub offered some guidance for parking while Sam and Taneesha kept an eye on the crowd.

  “Who’s that guy over there by the big tree?” Taneesha murmured. “He came in on a motorcycle, but he left it by the gate and walked the rest of the way.”

  It was a tall man in mirrored sunglasses, slender but muscular, wearing khaki slacks and a tight black turtleneck shirt. He had a jacket draped over one shoulder, leading Sam to wonder if he might be armed.

  In any case, he looked out of place, detached from the service.

  “I never saw him before,” Sam whispered, noting that Skeet had his eye on the stranger, too.

  Suddenly Sunshine broke free from the crowd of well-wishers and hurried toward the stranger, smiling.

  “You made it!” she said, throwing her arms around his waist. “Were you at the church? I didn’t see you?”

  The man shook his head.

  “Come, let me introduce you to everybody,” Sunshine pleaded, tugging at his hand.

  He seemed reluctant. Sam whispered to Taneesha, and they headed toward the couple on the pretext of telling Sunshine what a fine service it was and that they would be staying in touch.

  “Honey,” Sunshine said, “This is Sheriff Sam Bailey that I told you so much about over the phone. And this is Taneesha Hays. Her husband is my lawyer. Sam, Taneesha, this is my fiance, Garth Thurlow.”

  Thurlow nodded curtly to both of them and gave Sam a handshake that seemed to have the purpose of bone crushing. Sam crushed in return.

  “How much longer is this going to take?” Thurlow asked Sunshine. “I want to go see the house before I leave.”

  “We’ll drive by,” Sunshine said.

  “You know, Taneesha said to Sam when they were back at the courthouse for a quick meeting, “I didn’t think Sunshine’s fiance was much friendlier than her brother. It looks like she would have had enough of that sullen type growing up with Andy.”

  “I had pretty much the same thought,” Sam said, massaging his right hand.

  “My first thought was that he could probably run the length of Foxtail Creek carrying a weapon,” Skeet said.

  “Looked to me like he was in the military,” Bub added. “I was wondering if he was carrying concealed.”

  “Me, too, “Sam said. “I’m going to have T.J. run a background check on him. Now, any thoughts about the Carson funeral?”

  “India and Harley Jackson both looked mad,” Skeet said, “They didn’t go over and talk with Russell at all. I want to talk to India and see if she’ll tell me what’s going on and maybe how China and Russell were getting along.”

  Sam nodded.

  “You know she broke up with Charlie Mayo, don’t you?” Bub asked with a grin.

  �
��Yeah, I heard that,” Skeet said. “I just said I wanted to talk to her, Bub.”

  “I thought you had new keys made,” Garth Thurlow said to Sunshine as she drove down Clearview Circle to point out the house. “Why can’t we go inside?”

  “Because Andy’s still there,” she said, “And I don’t want any more fuss with him today. It’s going to take a while for the will to be probated anyway. I’m going to let the lawyers handle it.”

  “What do you mean, lawyers?” Garth said. “You only need one.”

  “He’s getting one, too,” Sunshine said, slowing down to a stop in front of the house. “He’s going to try to contest the will, but my lawyer says he doesn’t have a chance. It’s going to take some time, and it’s more complicated than I thought at first.”

  Garth glanced at the house and then back at Sunshine.

  “It’s not complicated,” he said. “It’s simple. You inherited the house, and he’s got to move out. Give me one of those keys, and I’ll go in there and explain it to him if your lawyer can’t.”

  Sunshine drove completely out of Clearview Circle before she replied.

  “Sweetheart, I need to handle this my way. It will work out.”

  To Sam’s and Bethie’s mutual relief on Sunday, Ellie Bankston had not made her famous asparagus casserole. Instead, dinner was a pot roast with mashed potatoes, green peas, and a fruit salad.

  “Now if you will all indulge me,” Ellie said after the blessing. “I would so much prefer that we not talk about the newspaper business or that terrible shooting over dinner.”

  “What does that leave?” Tyler asked, passing the mashed potatoes to Sam.

  “Well, we can talk about the baby,” Ellie said brightly. “Have you picked a name?”

  “Nice try,” Sam said, and they all laughed.

  “Bethie, do you know?” Ellie asked.

  “No, Ma’am,” Bethie said. “I just know it’s Baby Bailey.”

  “Bethie cannot keep a secret,” Hunter said. “We found that out when we told her we were going to have a baby.”

  “But you two do know, don’t you?” Tyler asked. “I thought everybody found out now with the ultrasound. Back when our girls were born, the big news was whether it was a boy or a girl.”

  “And Tyler sure was ready to say ‘It’s a boy!’ both times,” Ellie said.

  “You know I love my girls,” he said to her.

  After dinner, Ellie and Sam sat on the back porch with Bethie, talking about childhood memories.

  Hunter and Tyler sat inside talking about Mallory’s strengths as a reporter and computer whiz, the latest angles on the Merchantsville City Council, the likelihood that Jaybird Hilliard was going to make some trouble about the new sign ordinance, and the ongoing coverage of the Foxtail Creek Bridge shootings.

  Hunter told Tyler everything she knew, and which parts were being made public.

  “I’d like to see that Abomination note,” Tyler said. “I might recognize the style from one of our more eccentric letter writers.”

  “I’ve got a copy at the office,” Hunter said.

  “And you know,” Tyler said, “Peculiar people can have peculiar motives. Is anybody looking into the possibility that it was somebody who didn’t want that Cycle Georgia tour coming through Magnolia County? Like maybe someone from one of the adjoining counties?”

  “Or somebody who hates bicycles,” Hunter said with a grin.

  “Or somebody who hates gyms,” Tyler said.

  “Now there’s a point,” Hunter said. “You know we’ve got a half page ad coming up from the Shape-Up Shack in Cathay. Obviously they’re trying to take advantage of the Richards’ gym being closed.”

  That night she mentioned the ad to Sam. He said he didn’t think Ike Morey was so dumb that he’d try to kill Ricky Richards and then advertise his gym the next week, but he made a note to talk with Ike all the same. He promised not to mention knowing about the ad.

  “Let me ask you something,” he said. “Would you have gone on a bicycle ride right after you found out you were pregnant?”

  “I don’t think so,” Hunter said, “Dr. Kate makes a big thing of keeping up normal activities and getting exercise, but it just doesn’t seem like a good idea to do something that strenuous right at the beginning. Do you want me to ask her about it when I see her on Monday?”

  “You could,” Sam said, “but now that I think about it, all that really matters is whether China Carson thought it was a good or bad idea, and there’s no way to know that.”

  As he settled down to sleep, Sam found himself thinking that it was best not to spend any more time on side issues like China Carson’s pregnancy. Ike Morey would need to be checked out even though it was an unlikely angle.

  What Sam really wanted was to get a background check on Garth Thurlow and a credit check on everybody involved.

  An unwelcome thought entered his mind. The Chapman house would probably bring a good price, and there were financial assets, too. Annie Chapman was just in her early 50s and the picture of good health. She might have lived to be 100. Maybe somebody didn’t want to wait. What if Sunshine had known about the will for months and was just putting on a good act?

  CHAPTER 10

  On Monday morning at nine, Mallory held the door while Tyler Bankston maneuvered his wheelchair into the Messenger office. Novena and Hunter smiled and clapped.

  Tyler’s first surprise was discovering that even though he had made Hunter managing editor and had started doing the payroll and other money matters from home, she had never moved into his office. It was waiting for him pretty much as he left it – though a little tidier.

  “All this time, I was envisioning you sitting in this office at this desk,” he said.

  “Well, I have used it some of the time,” Hunter said, “and we’ve used it for interviews, but I was just used to my desk being out in the open.

  “So she could keep an eye on me,” Mallory said.

  “And keep an eye on the courthouse,” Novena said.

  “Well, I’m not here to take over,” Tyler said. “Hunter’s still in charge through Wednesday. Who’s got something I can edit?”

  “I’ve got the Marianna Elberton’s wedding,” Novena said. “They sent it to me by e-mail. I think her mother wrote it. It’s sort of long.”

  Tyler scowled.

  “I can do it,” Mallory volunteered.

  “No, you can’t,” Tyler said. “Hunter can do it. She needs to stay off her feet. And if somebody will find my coffee pot and get it started, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Tyler Bankston,” Novena said, “We threw that nasty old coffee maker out the day after you retired. I’ll go get you some at R&J’s.”

  “No,” he said. “You need to be out selling ads. Mallory can do it.”

  Hunter turned her computer chair around so Tyler couldn’t see her laughing. She also relaxed, because she knew she wasn’t going to be in charge again anytime soon, and she was more than ready for that.

  At the courthouse, Sam was on the phone to T.J. Jackson.

  “His name is Garth Thurlow,” he said, “He’s Sunshine Chapman’s fiance. Showed up at the graveside ceremony for her mother yesterday. He came on a motorcycle and stood off in the background. Doesn’t smile a lot or talk a lot. Looks tough as nails, and like he’s trying to look tougher. I want to know everything about him you can find out.”

  “Just because of the way he looks?” T.J. asked.

  “Yep,” Sam said. “Gut reaction. And I want a credit check and whatever financial information you can get on everybody whose name you’ve got, plus a guy named Ike Morey, who owns a couple of small businesses in Cathay – the Catfish Shack and the Shape Up Shack.”

  “Same person runs both of those?” T.J. said with a laugh.

  Sam was not in a laughing mood.

  “Well, he runs the gym, and his wife runs the catfish place, but I think he owns both of them.”

  How’d your people feel about my boss announcing
that China Carson was pregnant?” T.J. asked.

  “Not happy,” Sam said. “Taneesha’s the most upset about it because she gave Russell Carson the impression it didn’t need to be public information until we arrested somebody and there were charges. The family called to say they didn’t want Taneesha at the funeral.”

  “Ouch!” T.J. said.

  “It’ll settle down,” Sam said philosophically. “It might even move things a little faster if some people start getting on each other’s nerves. Skeet’s going to follow up with China Carson’s sister. He says he thought there was some kind of tension between the families at the funeral.”

  Mallory had ordered a large coffee for Tyler Bankston and was waiting near the front counter when a tall, slender young woman came through the door.

  “Sylvie Watkins!” she said with a big smile and got a hug in return. “What are you doing here? Your mom said you were in Italy,”

  “I just got back,” Sylvie Wagner said, brushing her fine blonde hair away from her face. “I’m starting med school this summer. I heard you were working at the paper and…”

  She suddenly got more serious.

  “I hope you got my card when your stepmother died,” she said. “That was so terrible. How’s your dad?”

  “Here’s your coffee, Mallory,” Annelle Patterson interrupted.

  “Dad’s okay and I’ve got to get back to work,” Mallory said to Sylvie. “Let’s get together later and catch up.”

  “How about tonight?” Sylvie said. “My mom and dad are spending the week in Florida, and my little brother never disconnects from his computer games at night. I’ve been bored out of my mind.”

  “Let me make sure I don’t have a meeting to cover,” Mallory said. “How old is Timmy now?”

  “Sixteen,” Sylvie said, “And we can’t call him Timmy anymore. Just Tim. Call me about tonight. OK?”

  Sam waited until noon and took Bub Williston with him to go looking for Ike Morey. He didn’t want it to look official, so he had decided that having catfish and hushpuppies would make an accidental encounter believable.