Keyed in Murder

by Helen Gray

  Toni pressed her fingertips to her throbbing temples. “Let’s call it a day. I can’t wait to get home and put up my feet.”

  She and the boys had only been home about forty-five minutes when she heard a vehicle pull into the driveway. It didn’t sound like Kyle’s truck, so she forced herself to her feet and plodded to the door.

  Patsy Brower, wearing jeans and a red sweatshirt similar to Toni’s after-school lounging garb, emerged from a silver Taurus and came to the door. Her slow gait and sad expression created a sense of foreboding in Toni’s stomach.

  “Come in,” she invited, opening the door wider.

  Moving as if in a trance, Patsy entered the foyer, where Toni could now distinguish tears tracking down the woman’s cheeks. “Oh, Patsy, what’s wrong?” she said, pulling her friend into a hug.

  Patsy sobbed into her shoulder. “He was rude and a loud mouthed jerk,” she choked out brokenly. “But nobody had a right to do that to him.”

  Toni pushed the secretary’s face back so she could look into it. “Who was a jerk? What was done to him?”

  Patsy hiccupped. “Ray Fillmore. His car was found somewhere out around the lake, with him inside it, and three bullets in him.”

  Toni’s heart skipped a beat. “Let’s sit down before we fall down.” She steered Patsy to the living room sofa and collapsed onto it beside her.

  “Norm called as soon as I got home from work and told me about it,” Patsy said between sobs. “He was at work and heard sirens go past the construction project where he was working. He called a friend who has a scanner, and the friend did some checking and called him back when he found out what was happening. Now Norm’s scared he’ll be blamed for another death. He’s not home yet, and the kids are with friends. They won’t be home for another hour or so, and I needed to talk to someone. You’re the first person who came to my mind.”

  Toni felt burdened by such trust, yet humbled. And afraid. “I don’t know anything I can do. Norm hasn’t been arrested or anything like that, has he?”

  “Not yet,” Patsy forced out bitterly.

  “Will you let me fix us a cup of coffee and see if it will settle our nerves a bit?”

  Patsy nodded and lolled her head against the back of the sofa.

  Toni put the coffee to brewing, surprised that the boys hadn’t come charging out of their room to greet their guest. They must have peeked out, recognized Patsy, and decided to not interrupt. She was proud of them.

  Once she and Patsy had consumed enough coffee to grow calmer, Toni set her cup down and asked Patsy for more details.

  Patsy shook her head. “I don’t know any more. I just know Norm’s apt to be blamed, and I wanted you to know about it.” She glanced at her watch. “He said he’ll be home around five-thirty, and it’s about that now. I’d better go home and start supper, and let you fix yours,” she added. “I only came by to share my shock and misery with you.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll manage. I’m glad you came, even though the news is bad.”

  Patsy stood and went to the door. She paused in the opening. “If I learn more, I’ll run up to your room tomorrow and update you.” She turned, exited, and shut the door behind her.

  The sudden crack of what sounded like gunfire from outside the house startled Toni so badly that she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  Chapter 13

  Toni bolted to the door and yanked it open, dimly aware of the boys charging into the room behind her.

  Patsy lay crumpled on the sidewalk at the bottom of the steps. Beyond her, in the patch of woods between the new six house subdivision and the golf course, Toni thought she glimpsed movement as she ran and dropped to her knees beside her friend.

  As she landed, Patsy stirred and groaned. Then her eyes opened a slit. “What happened?” she whispered. Blood oozed from her shoulder.

  Toni placed a hand on her chest. “Don’t move. Lie still. Gabe,” she called over her shoulder. “Call the police. Call an ambulance.”

  “He’s already doing it,” Garrett answered. “He’ll call Dad, too. And Grandma and Grandpa.”

  “Call Norman Brower, or tell the police to do it.”

  “He’ll get ‘em all.”

  Thank you, Lord, for precocious sons.

  Toni stared down at Patsy, whose eyes had closed. Then she glanced at her own attire. “Oh, Patsy,” she moaned. “I think you took a bullet meant for me.”

  Patsy’s eyelids lifted slightly. “Glad to oblige,” she murmured weakly.

  Tears sprang from Toni’s eyes. “You silly girl,” she blubbered, so relieved at hearing the effort at humor that her emotions careened out of control.

  “We’re tough, you and me,” Patsy whispered. “We aren’t going to take this thing lying down. Well, maybe for a few more moments,” she amended without opening her eyes.

  An ambulance came screaming up the road, its lights flashing, and jerked to a stop at the edge of the yard. The medics raced to the house, loaded Patsy onto a gurney, and were gone in less than five minutes. As the medical vehicle sped back down the road, Toni recognized Kyle’s truck, with her dad’s SUV behind him, meeting the ambulance. They pulled over to allow it to pass, and then raced on up the lane to the driveway.

  “I’ll stay with the boys while you and Kyle go to the clinic,” Russell Nash called from the curb as he exited his SUV.

  Toni climbed into Kyle’s truck, not bothering to go get her purse. When they arrived at the clinic minutes later, Toni recognized Norman Brower running across the parking lot to the emergency entrance. Then a police car with Buck at the wheel pulled to the curb in front of that entrance. Buck exited and caught up to Toni and Kyle at the door.

  “You’ll have to wait here,” the chief ordered brusquely. “I’ll come back after I check for information, which I doubt will do any good this soon.”

  He returned five minutes later and took a chair facing them. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, glancing from Toni to Kyle and back. “Patsy’s husband is with her. Tell me what happened while we wait for news.”

  “Gabe called me. I just got home as the ambulance was loading her,” Kyle said, leaving the explanations to Toni.

  “Patsy came to the house to tell me Ray Fillmore has been found dead. She’s upset because she’s afraid her husband will be blamed. When she stepped outside to leave, she was shot.”

  “She’s strong. She’ll be okay,” Buck said without inflection.

  “It shouldn’t have happened to her. It should have been me.”

  His gaze took on a discerning look. “Why do you say that?”

  “She’s my size and has the same color and length of hair. She’s wearing a red shirt, like me, and somebody’s after me. She just happened to step out that door when that somebody came looking for me—and thought he had me. I think he shot her from the woods.”

  The chief’s brow crinkled. “You saw him?”

  “No, but I thought I saw a flash of movement as I was going out the door to get to Patsy.”

  He nodded slowly.

  “He must have parked at the country club and hiked through the woods,” she theorized. “That acreage is only a quarter of a mile or less between the club and the subdivision.”

  “You could be right. That key you brought me is puzzling, though,” he said, changing the subject. “I drove over to the Crawford house and tried to get in with it, but it doesn’t fit any of the doors.”

  Toni’s brain spun. “What about their business? Do they have a cabin or rental house?”

  Buck raked a hand over his stubbly jaw, his head bobbing slightly. “Those are good questions. I’ll check his business locks and find out if he owns other properties.”

  Two people entered the waiting room from opposite directions, a white coated doctor from a treatment room door, and Twila Morgan from the hallway. When Twila recognized what was happening, she backed out of the room. But Toni figured the reporter remained standing at the doorway, doing her best to hear news about
Patsy. Toni and Buck stood to face the doctor.

  “Mrs. Brower is fortunate,” the white coated medic said. “She took a shot in the humerus. There is some ligament damage, but she’ll be fine. Her husband can take her home as soon as the nurse finishes bandaging her shoulder. We’ve written a report on it since it’s a gunshot wound. She’s been sedated, so I hope any reports you deem necessary can be dealt with later, when she’s alert and mobile.” He directed that at Buck.

  “Norm can bring her down to the station to give her statement when she’s up to it,” the chief said. “Thanks, Doc.” His phone rang as he finished speaking.

  He answered, listened briefly, and disconnected. “There’s been a wreck out on the highway.” He hurried away.

  “May I see Patsy for a moment?” Toni asked the doctor.

  His eyes narrowed. “It was at your house that she was shot, right?”

  “Yes. I just want to see her and ask her a question.”

  “Okay. Go on in.”

  “I’ll wait here,” Kyle said from his seat.

  Toni eased through the doorway of the curtained emergency area the doctor had indicated. Patsy sat on the side of a treatment table, her arm in a sling. The nurse was gathering her supplies. Norm sat in a chair in the corner of the room. Toni stopped before Patsy. “I’d like to hug you, but I’m afraid to touch you.”

  Patsy smiled wanly. “I can feel it in my mind. Now don’t go feeling guilty,” she admonished. “I’m the one who dragged you into all this.”

  “She did it for me,” Norm growled from his chair. Lines of fatigue and stress marked his face.

  Toni turned at an angle so she could speak to both of them. “At this point we’re a team. Okay?”

  They both nodded.

  “I only want to ask you one question. Who is the girlfriend who’s been living with Ray?”

  Patsy frowned. “I don’t know.”

  Norm snorted. “She’s a real piece of work. Her name is Glenda Beckham. And she’s probably still living in that rundown trailer about a mile from the highway on Oak Ridge Road.”

  “Thank you. Take care of your wife, Norm.”

  “You bet.”

  Toni turned and left, classroom memories of Glenda Beckham flashing through her brain. The gal had been every bit as mouthy and arrogant as Ray. A bully.

  Toni stifled a groan when she arrived home and recognized Twila Morgan sitting behind the wheel of the car parked in their driveway.

  Kyle pulled the truck into the garage and faced Toni. “It’s late, and you’re tired. I’ll go get takeout from the restaurant while you deal with your visitor.”

  “How do you know she’s not your visitor?” she grumped.

  He gave her a wink. “I just know. And you’re more capable of handling her.”

  “Coward,” she accused, opening the door. “Just bring me whatever you order.”

  “I’ll take the boys and let them order for themselves,” he said as Gabe and Garrett emerged from the house into the garage. When he beckoned to them, they scrambled into the truck.

  Twila exited her car and waited while Kyle backed out of the driveway. Then she met Toni on the sidewalk, her auburn ponytail swinging behind her. A small gal, she wore a coat since the day had turned downright chilly.

  Toni was not feeling tactful. “Hello, Twila,” she greeted the reporter as Kyle drove away. “I once heard someone refer to reporters as snakes. I hope you don’t have any venom in you.”

  Startled, Twila closed the mouth she had opened to speak, but only for a moment. “I only came for a story. You were occupied at the clinic, and I elected to not interrupt. Does that sound venomous?”

  “I’m glad we’re on the same page.” Toni didn’t invite her into the house, though. “Now, what can I do for you?”

  Twila gave her a tiny smile. “Tell me about today’s shooting, and anything else you can about the crimes around here that seem to have you in the middle of them.”

  “It’s not my place to tell you about what the police are doing.”

  “So just tell me about what you’re doing. The first story we did involving you was an attack in the school parking lot. Then your purse was snatched during the festival. Are the two incidents related?”

  Toni shrugged. “That definitely seems a possibility, but I have no proof that it is.”

  “You don’t know why those things happened?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then today someone you work with gets shot at your home. Do you think someone is after you, and meant to kill you today, but shot Patsy by mistake?”

  This was a much more insightful and mature person than the girl Toni had known in high school. She decided to cut her some slack. “I understand your job, but I really don’t have the amount of inside information you obviously think I do. So here’s what I know and don’t know, minus what I can’t tell you.”

  Twila nodded, her pen poised over a writing pad.

  Without embellishments, Toni related to her exactly what had happened that afternoon.

  “It sounds like an effort to silence you, and a mistaken identification,” Twila said when she finished.

  “I don’t know,” Toni said honestly. “There have now been two killings, and, no, I don’t know that they’re connected. My gut might think they are, but I can’t give you any kind of proof. I don’t even know yet if both men were killed with the same kind of gun, the exact same gun, or two totally different guns. You’ll have to ask the police that when they’ve had time to get reports on them.”

  “You’re sure you’ve told me everything? You haven’t forgotten anything?”

  “That’s it,” Toni said, seeing no reason to mention the key.

  Twila put her pen away. “Well, it doesn’t tell the public who’s killing and trying to kill people, or if the police are closing in on a suspect. But thank you for your time—and your straightforwardness.”

  Toni felt she had just been given a compliment. “If I learn anything more, I’ll call you.”

  Twila actually smiled totally this time. Then she returned to her car and left.

  The family was just finishing their takeout meal when John and Jenny arrived. “I hope we aren’t disturbing you,” John said as the couple entered the house.

  “We heard about a disturbance over here,” Jenny said. “And we wanted to be sure you’re not hurt.”

  “I’m fine,” Toni assured them, tossing the last of the takeout containers in the trash. “Patsy Brower is the only one who was hurt.”

  They gathered in the living room and found seats. John eased back in a rocker. “We’d like a complete report.”

  Toni snickered. “That won’t take long.” She quickly went over what she could think of that they didn’t already know. “I don’t see any indication of the police identifying the killer at this point,” she concluded.

  John leaned forward, his expression somber. “Jenny and I told you that we bowl. We were out at the lanes a couple of nights ago, and I found myself watching and listening more closely than I ever have before.”

  “I actually made two strikes,” Jenny interjected, beaming.

  “She did,” John said proudly, and then he returned to his former mood. “The people I see out there seem to fall into three groups,” he said, as if talking to himself as much as them. “There are the older guys who hang around the bar at the bowling alley to visit and drink. Then there are the serious bowlers, like us, who spend all our time at the lanes. Then there’s the social group. They bowl, but it’s more of an exclusive clique who get together regularly to party. I’ve heard that this group is fairly serious about their mixed league play, but after bowling they’re anything but serious.”

  “I’ve heard a little about that group,” Kyle spoke up, having been a silent audience until now. “It’s rumored that some of their parties get pretty wild. No, I don’t know any juicy details,” he added dryly when he realized he was opening himself up for questions.

  John cleared his th
roat. “The gossip I’ve heard is that drugs and alcohol flow, and inhibitions lower, at their Friday night bashes. Then anything goes.”

  “We know there’s a drug problem,” Toni said. “We just don’t know if it connects to Jake’s murder in any way.”

  John’s face took on a contemplative look. “Those couples in the league may be good friends, but I’ve sensed some friction among them lately. They don’t seem as close. I even remember overhearing a couple of the men arguing one night. I got the impression it was over their scoring. In fact, one of them shouted something about some keys before he stormed out of the building and left.”

  Toni must have made a sound, because they all stared at her. “What you just said reminded me of something.” She told them about finding a key, giving it to Buck, and his report that it didn’t fit any doors in the Crawford home. She omitted the small detail that she had made a copy of it.

  “Everything seems to be coming back to drugs,” Kyle commented.

  “Friction in their group has been added,” Toni mused. “But I still can’t make sense of it.”

  Jenny stood. “We need to go home, and you guys need to see that your young men get a good night’s rest.”

  *

  Friday morning during her free class period, Toni’s classroom phone rang. It was her sometimes friend, the police chief.

  “I’m only keeping you informed on this investigation because someone is out to hurt you, or worse,” he began gruffly, but then softened. “But I admit you make a decent sounding board.”

  Toni grabbed a pen from the bookcase and a notepad from under the phone.

  “We’ve been doing some background checks on the people you said your friends see hanging out together at the bowling alley. We had a domestic violence call at the Hewitt residence several weeks ago.”

  “We already know they’re divorcing,” she pointed out.