LIVE Ammo (Sunshine State Mystery Series Book 2)

by Lynda Fitzgerald

  Allie didn’t know where the words had come from, and she was shaking when she finished. It didn’t help that Rand was studying her through narrowed eyes.

  His expression shot fear through her. Here was the man who above all didn’t want the truth to come out. He knew she had proof, and he knew that proof was in the tape recorder. He could destroy it. He could destroy her if he wanted to. There was no way Barry could make it inside the house in time to stop him.

  Then, her anxiety ebbed. Rand wouldn’t hurt her. She was certain of it. He was, after all, Cord Arbutten’s son. She had seen enough of the father in the son to feel she knew him.

  “Just listen, Rand,” she said again. “If you want to stay in denial after you’ve heard what she said, I’ll walk away, and you’ll never see me again. I’ll take the tape to the governor because Cord deserves to have his name cleared, but that’s as far as it will go. You can destroy it after that if you want to.”

  Emotions played across his face—anger replaced by indecision, indecision by sorrow. “All right.”

  Chapter 22

  Allie let out a shaky breath. She waited until he returned to the couch—the other end, as far away as he could get. She could read body language too.

  She heard the lap of water against the sides of the pool, the gurgle of the drain through the open door. Somewhere nearby, she heard a dog bark, children’s laughter. A child’s squeal, probably Butch setting fire to something. Innocent and carefree. She was jealous.

  She had been honest with Janet about wanting to tape their conversation. What she hadn’t told her was that she had pushed the record button as Janet was wheeling her chair over to her. She had it on tape. The whole thing.

  She pushed the play button, and the sound of her and Janet French’s voices filled the room.

  “What happened?”

  “Auto accident.”

  “Thank God. No. Not thank God that you had an accident. Thank God that my grandson didn’t do that to you.”

  Rand’s eyes flew to Allie’s, and she nodded.

  “Rand? I didn’t even see Rand after I left here.”

  Janet’s laughter sounded harsh. “And here I was trying to figure out if I could walk far enough to go beat the hell out of him.”

  “Can we talk?”

  “Sure.” Then, a silence.

  “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “No, that’s not it, although a bottle now and then would be nice, if it’s no trouble. No, I was trying to figure out where we could go for privacy.”

  There was a moment of silence. Allie remembered that everyone was watching them.

  “Your room?”

  Then was only the sound of muted footsteps as they walked to Janet’s room. The sound of a door opening and closing. The silence while Allie was taking it all in.

  Then, Janet’s voice. “Cord Arbutten is responsible for every damn thing in this room. Either he bought it for me or they were things that belonged to his mom and dad. You can’t blame me for being grateful to him, can you?”

  “Why did you refuse to go someplace else? There are much nicer retirement homes than this. Cord has already said he’d pay for it.”

  “And let him spend more blood money? Don’t you think the man has paid enough? I couldn’t refuse any of this stuff. It would have hurt his feelings. When I told him I wouldn’t move, he came and painted it himself, bought me the curtains. Then, I told him enough. He’s paid all his life for what my daughter did to him. I couldn’t take anymore.”

  “Will you tell me now? Do you know what happened?”

  There was a long silence, then Allie saying, “Janet, do you mind if I record this? I want Rand to hear it. I think he needs to know.”

  Allie paused the tape and looked over at Rand.

  “She didn’t know you were recording before that?”

  Allie had the grace to look embarrassed. “I should have told her, but—I didn’t.”

  “You wouldn’t be able to use that in court.”

  Allie looked at him, exasperated. “I’m not planning to use it in court. Just listen, will you?”

  He nodded briefly, and Allie punched Play.

  “OK, but only for Rand to hear.”

  There was the sound of Allie pulling the recorder out of her purse. Then, it switched off and back on. Allie blushed.

  “I don’t know what happened. Not for sure. I know what I was afraid of happening. I was scared to death that she was would try to kill him. I even warned him. You know what he said? He said it probably served him right. Can you believe that? I don’t think he would have lifted a finger to help himself. That’s how guilty he feels about her. Now, he’s in trouble with the department. He told me that they’re pushing him to retire.

  Rand’s brows came together in the middle of his forehead, and he glanced at Allie. She nodded.

  Janet was saying, “I asked him what was going on, and he said he was thinking about retirement. Well, I knew that was bullshit. The man will retire when he loses the election or when a bullet finds him and not a moment before. I nagged him until he finally told me the truth. If that tight-ass governor forces him out of office, I don’t know what’s gonna happen to him.”

  The tape went on, and Allie watched the emotions play across Rand’s face. He crossed his arms across his chest, feeble protection against what he was about to hear.

  “OK. Jean came to see me. Her monthly duty visit, don’t you know. Only this time, she seemed different. Happy like. Excited.”

  Rand sat up straighter. “…when she started talking about Cord—she sounded like a crazy woman. She said he was finally going to get what he deserved.”

  His eyes cut over to Allie, who tried to emulate Sheryl’s cop face. Let him form his own opinion.

  “…She said she’d finally thought of a way to make him pay for all the years he’d cheated on her.” Rand’s concentration was total. “…I tried to get her to say she was going to shoot him or something. I figured that way I’d have something to tell Cord. Something definite. But she said shooting was too easy for him. She said she’d figured a way to make him pay the way he deserved. She said she hoped he lived a long life, because she was going to ruin him.”

  “Why didn’t you come forward with this when she died?”

  “And tell who? Tell them what? That my lunatic daughter was threatening the sheriff? They would have laughed their asses off. Besides, I couldn’t think what she meant to do. I mean, how do you ruin a man with a shiny reputation like Cord’s?”

  Allie reached over and switched off the recorder. Rand sat stiffly on his end of the couch. He looked over at Allie. “You think she killed herself to implicate him?”

  “I—”

  “I remember your saying that before, but I didn’t think you’d go to these lengths—”

  “What lengths, Rand? When I said that, I thought Sidney Finch killed her. I only told you that to throw you off the scent. This was as much as a shock to me as it was to you—”

  “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

  “I didn’t put words in Frenchie’s mouth. You heard the entire conversation—even those parts she didn’t know I was recording,” she finished, feeling defeat even before he spoke.

  “So, that was it? That’s all you have?”

  It was all there in those four little words. The disbelief. The denial. Rand Arbutten was a lawyer. He wanted concrete evidence, and Allie hadn’t delivered. What she had wasn’t enough to take to court; therefore, it wasn’t true. She had dealt with it all her life. She wouldn’t deal with it anymore.

  “Yes, that was it,” she said, picking up the tape recorder and dropping it in her purse. She stood and started to move painfully toward the door.

  “It doesn’t prove—”

  She rounded on him, and then caught her breath as pain coursed through her body. It only served to make her angrier. “You’re right, Rand. It doesn’t prove a thing. All it does is tell the truth of what happened, but you’re a lawyer, right? W
hat happened doesn’t mean a damn thing unless I can prove it. And you’re not just a lawyer; you’re a son who wants to stay in denial. This just makes it that much easier for you, doesn’t it?” she finished bitterly, turning back toward the door.

  “Allie.”

  She stopped.

  “What are you going to do next?”

  She turned slowly to face him. “What the hell do you care?”

  “Humor me… please.”

  “I guess I’m going to have to find some proof, aren’t I?”

  “How?”

  Allie debated walking out without another word. She owed him nothing. She looked at him for a long minute before she made her decision. “I thought I’d start with gun stores. She was killed with Cord’s old service revolver. He said he didn’t even know where Jean kept it all these years. He was sure there was no ammunition for it in the house. That means someone had to buy bullets, and I want to know who.”

  She thought she saw a glimmer of respect on Rand’s face. Then, maybe not.

  “Are you going to go to every gun store in town asking if she bought bullets there?”

  Again, she considered not answering. It was none of the man’s damn business. What would he do? Get there before her and pay them off? “If I have to, but first I’m going to call every gun store in town and see if anyone remembers a middle-aged woman buying bullets for a very old gun. I think that’s something that might stick in their minds, don’t you? And if anyone does remember it, then I’m going to take your mother’s picture and show it to the shopkeeper to see if he can identify her.”

  “Let me help.”

  For a minute, she thought she heard him wrong. “Why?”

  He didn’t answer for a minute. Then, he said, “Because if there is proof, I want to know.”

  So, he could suppress it? Not after all she’d been through. “How can you help?”

  “You have a cell phone. I have a cell phone. We can split the gun store listings down the middle.

  Allie chewed her lip, studying him for a long moment. Oh, what the hell. She was in excruciating pain. She didn’t know if she could continue to hold her head up, let alone call every gun dealer in the county.

  He must have sensed her weakening. “If we don’t get any hits there, we can try Wal-Mart and stores like that. They sell bullets.”

  “For guns that old?”

  “What kind was it?”

  Allie searched her memory and came up empty. Then, she remembered she’d jotted it down in her notebook the last time Sheryl had mentioned it. She pulled out the notebook and flipped through the pages. She was about to give up when she spotted it. “It was a Colt Python. Sheryl said something about a four-inch barrel.”

  Rand looked thoughtful. “That’s a .357. Any .357 magnum ammo would work in it.”

  “How do you know so much about guns?”

  He gave a short laugh. “That hardly qualified as ‘so much.’”

  Allie glared at him.

  “I spent most of my life in military school. Guns are a big thing there.” He shrugged. “They’re a kind of hobby now.”

  Allie shook her head. “Well, I didn’t know that. Maybe she didn’t, either.”

  “He would. He would be able to get the ammo without anyone knowing.”

  “I wasn’t planning to ask about men.”

  “Why not?”

  Allie glared at him. “What are the chances that the county sheriff walked into an ammunition store and bought bullets?”

  “I don’t think the chances are good that either one of them did, but you want to ask, and you said you want it to be fair. We ask about both a man and a woman.”

  God, he was stubborn. But then, he was a lawyer. Stubborn was synonymous to lawyer. “Not by name.”

  “Deal,” he said.

  Allie stuck out her hand. “Deal.” She swayed on her feet.

  Chapter 23

  It was so damned humiliating. Allie felt the blood leave her head, and Rand caught her before she fell. Just like in the movies—only in the movies, it was romantic. In reality, it was embarrassing. And painful. He led her to the sofa and eased her down. As he did, her sleeve slipped up to her elbow.

  Rand stood there for a long time staring at it. “Do you look like that all over?” he asked quietly.

  She grimaced as her body settled into the contours of the sofa. “No, I think there’s an inch on one ankle that isn’t black and blue. I think it’s purple.”

  He wasn’t smiling. “Are you taking anything for pain?”

  He sounded angry, but what did he have to be angry about? She was one who was all bashed up. “Tylenol. I left it at home.”

  He muttered a curse and left the room. Allie let her head fall back against the cushions. She’d never known that pain could take so much out of a person. She felt like she could sleep for a year.

  ***

  The smell of coffee woke her. As she opened her eyes, Rand thrust three Tylenol in her hand and held out a glass of water.

  “Bottoms up,” he said.

  It was a minute before his words sank in. Then, she obeyed, taking the pills with one gulp of water. Twenty minutes. That’s how long it usually took them to kick in.

  She groaned as she tried to sit up. Rand pushed her gently back against the cushions. “Give yourself a minute. Here’s some coffee. It’ll help.”

  Allie could have wept with gratitude. If every man learned that the way to her heart was to fix her coffee, she’d be a pushover. She took a tentative sip. Delicious.

  “How long was I asleep?”

  Rand glanced at his watch. “A couple of hours.”

  “A couple of hours!” Her eyes went inadvertently toward the front door.

  “Don’t worry. I let Barry in for a potty break and to see that I hadn’t murdered you. I gave him a coffee to go.”

  Barry? They were on a first-name basis now?

  She again tried to sit up, but Rand pushed her back. “Just for a few minutes. Give the Tylenol and coffee a chance to kick in.”

  She sipped her coffee. “What were you doing while I was asleep?”

  “Not making phone calls, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

  She shot him a glance. He wasn’t kidding.

  He shrugged. “I’d want to hear what you said if I were in your shoes. I figured I’d extend you the same courtesy.”

  They drank their coffee in companionable silence for a few minutes. Then, Rand asked, “What do you have against attorneys?”

  Allie almost blushed. “What makes you think I have something against them?”

  He laughed. “Maybe because of the accusation in your voice when you said I didn’t give a damn about the truth because I was a lawyer.”

  Now, Allie did blush. “Oh, that.”

  “Yes, that.” He smiled. “So, was your ex an attorney or something?”

  “Or something,” Allie said, taking another sip of coffee. “My experience with attorneys is pretty much limited to my mother and brother. Oh, and everyone in their law firm.”

  He looked intrigued. “Shysters?”

  Allie had to stop and think. “Not shysters, exactly. They’re ethical. On the up and up. At least I think they are. They have a good reputation in Atlanta.” She laid her head back against the sofa cushion. What was her real gripe against her mother and brother? “It’s more that they think they’re better than anyone else. More clever. They want to best everyone.”

  “Even you?”

  Allie laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, yes. Especially me.”

  “What about your dad?”

  She looked at him in surprise. “Are you really interested?”

  He sat back and crossed his legs. “I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t interested.”

  Again, she considered her answer before speaking. “My dad’s a good man. A little weak when it comes to my mother. She rules the house. He’s a professor of English literature at Emory.”

  Rand laughed, and Allie raised her eyebrows. “
You think that’s funny?”

  “I was just thinking about Jane Austen,” he said.

  She smiled. “Yes, he likes Jane Austen, although I think he analyzes her work to the point of meaninglessness.”

  “I sense an ongoing father-daughter disagreement.”

  Allie couldn’t believe how easy Rand was to talk to. He asked questions without asking questions, making her want to tell him more. Then, she remembered he was an attorney, but she decided not to hold it against him. “It’s not our only ongoing disagreement. He almost had a fit when I changed my major from English to journalism. And then, when I left the university with a mere bachelor’s degree, he pretty much washed his hands of me.”

  Rand was nodding. “It’s awfully hard to be what our parents want us to be. They concoct these daydreams about how they want us to live our lives, and it’s hard to live up to a dream, day or otherwise.”

  “Did your father want you to be a cop like him?” Allie asked and realized her mistake when Rand’s face shut down.

  “We never got around to discussing our aspirations,” he said shortly. “His or mine.”

  He reached over and picked up the Cocoa phone directory. “I thought we’d start with the local directory. While you were asleep, I went online. I figured if we didn’t have any luck there, we could search Brevard County over the Internet.”

  So, their companionable moment was over. Allie felt sad, like she’d lost something she wanted but never had. Still, he was right. They had a job to do.

  “Did your mom have a computer and printer?” Allie asked, remembering the typed letters.

  “Sure, I got them for her years ago. She never could get the hang of e-mail, though.”

  Another question answered.

  Gun stores were listed under Guns and Gunsmiths. There were only eleven. None of them remembered a middle-aged woman or man coming in to buy ammunition for any gun. His or her most common reaction was, “You expect me to remember everybody who came in to buy .357 ammo. What are you, nuts?” The Colt Python angle proved no better.