Greed & Deadly Deceit

by Ruby Blaylock

  Annie pondered this for a moment. I guess we’ll just have to hope that Frances LaRue’s relatives are all a lot nicer than he was, she replied.

  They ate in silence for a while, then Bessie spoke again. So, what was all that with Mr. Michaels today? He seemed awfully sweet on you, Annie.

  Annie’s cheeks flushed in the pale porch light. He was just being nice. He heard the commotion when Joshua sent the dinner tray down the stairs, she continued, and I had a splinter in my finger from the wood on the step, she added. He was just being helpful, that’s all.

  Rory cleared his throat. Mm-hmm. You have to watch out for those ‘helpful’ ones. They’re all nice until they get you in the sack, then they run off into the sunset and leave you on your own.

  He tried to sound lighthearted when he said this, but Annie could tell that there was a hint of seriousness in his tone. She thought she detected a note of jealousy, too. "I’m sure that he was just being nice, she said with a sigh. Besides, I have zero interest in Bo Michaels. It might be nice to have someone pay me a little attention, but I

  have no plans to fall head over heels for some rambling music man."

  She gave Rory a little wink, then popped the last of her pizza into her mouth. Mmm, delicious, she mumbled around the bite, then paused to chew the food in her mouth, but I am exhausted, so I am going to go run a bubble bath and have an early night. I will see you two in the morning, she finished.

  As Annie disappeared through the front door, Bessie picked up the conversation. So, it seems like Bo Michaels is a ‘nice fella.’ Doesn’t that bother you any? She narrowed her eyes and peered at Rory.

  Why should it bother me? he replied, wiping his hands on his jeans. I’m sure lots of the guests who stay here are nice guys.

  You’re a nice guy, too, Bessie responded. "You’re the original nice guy," she reminded him.

  Rory knew that she was hinting at his history with her daughter. Annie’s a grown woman, Bessie. I’ve made it clear that I’m here for her--in whatever capacity she needs--and it’s up to her to decide what that capacity is.

  Nonsense. She needed a friend when she first moved back down here and you stepped up. Now, maybe she needs more. You gonna let that Bo Michaels step up instead this time? Bessie watched Rory’s face flush in the low light. I didn’t think so. Now, I may not know a lot of things, but I know a thing or two about relationships. You two need some ‘alone time,’ and you need it soon. You need to let Annie know that you want to be more than her friend before she decides that somebody like Bo Michaels is really what she wants.

  Rory shifted uncomfortably. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation, he told her. Annie’d probably shoot us both if she knew we were talking about her behind her back.

  Oh, Annie would forgive us both a lot of things, Bessie advised him, but she wouldn’t forgive you for breaking her heart twice. Not to put any pressure on you or anything, but Devon adores you and Annie can see that. Now, I’m not saying you have to rush upstairs and propose to her or anything foolish like that, but Rory, I am telling you that it’s time you made your move. Get out of the ‘friendship zone’ and into new territory.

  Oh, like you and Emmett, Rory teased her. How long did you two stay in the friendship zone? I believe it was all of two minutes, he added with a grin.

  Honey, at my age, I don’t have time to be hanging around in the friendship zone. Besides, if I hadn’t made my romantic intentions clear to Emmett, one of those other old biddies in town would have snatched him up in a heartbeat. A girl’s got to go after what she wants, that’s what I always say.

  Rory grinned at the older woman. Emmett never stood a chance, did he? When Bessie Purdy makes up her mind about something, well, watch out, world! He stood up from his rocking chair, grabbing his empty plate as he did. He held out his empty hand for Bessie’s plate, and she passed it to him, pausing to squeeze his open hand.

  You’re a good man, Rory Jenkins. She pulled herself up out of the rocking chair and followed him into the house. Oh, Rory, before you head off to your own bed, would you mind taking a look at something for me?

  She led him to the spot in the kitchen where the entrance to what she called the ‘secret hidey hole’ lay. The first week that they’d been in the house, Bessie had stumbled across a hidden tunnel that ran beneath the length of the house. They never used it for anything, but it was a fun fact to share with guests.

  Can you see why this door keeps popping open? she asked him, pointing to a section of wall that was sticking out to reveal a black hole. The hole was the entrance to the tunnel, and it was unnervingly dark.

  Rory knelt and ran his hand along the edge of the door as well as the wall itself. When he reached the bottom, he stopped.

  Well, he said, pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of the gap where the door should have rested, it looks like a little piece of garbage got dropped down here.

  Bessie looked at the crumpled piece of paper in Rory’s hand. As he smoothed it out, it became clear that it was a receipt of some sort, but not one from any store Bessie recognized.

  Mackey’s, she muttered. Not sure what that is. And I’m not sure how on earth it found its way in there--I haven’t opened that blasted hidey-hole up in ages, not since that big brown spider darted out of there the last time I did. She shuddered. Ooh, no thank you! I told Annie that we need to get an exterminator in there. Who knows what creepy crawlies are just lying in wait in the darkness.

  Rory stared at the paper for a moment, then shrugged. Not sure it matters too much, he conceded, but I’ll check with Annie and see if she’s been in there.

  Well, thank you for getting that fixed. I kept expecting a big old spider to come crawling out any minute,

  Bessie admitted.

  Rory nudged the door shut. It disappeared seamlessly into the wall, and if he hadn’t known where to look for the seam where the door met the wall, he wouldn’t have known there was anything there. He slipped the crumpled receipt into his pocket, making a mental note to look up the name Mackey’s on the internet.

  Well, now, I reckon I’m going to get myself to bed, young lady. I need to catch up on my beauty sleep if I’m going to compete with Prince Charming, Mr. Michaels, he added with a sly smirk.

  Oh, alright then. You go on and sleep tight, Rory. Thanks for taking care of that door for me. She said this last part over her shoulder, as Bessie was already heading out of the kitchen, no doubt to hurry upstairs and sneak in a few chapters of her current book before she hit the hay.

  Rory let himself out the back door in the kitchen, taking the time to lock it behind him as he left. It was still early--only eight o’clock but already getting dark, since it was barely mid-March. If Bo Michaels was planning on coming back later, he’d have to let himself in, Rory noted. He made his way the short distance to the small cabin that he’d built for himself--at Annie’s request--the previous autumn. It was cozy and plain, but better than the camper he’d been living in when he’d first moved onto the plantation.

  The ‘handyman quarters’ had everything he needed, including a pretty nifty roll-down fifty-inch television. Rory had spent hours studying layouts of tiny homes, he’d watched more than his fair share of programs featuring the small dwellings on cable television with Devon and Bessie, and then put his knowledge to work replicating the parts he liked. Now, he had a home that barely exceeded three hundred square feet and that felt like his own private castle.

  Rory even had access to the main house’s WiFi signal, thanks to a small signal booster Devon had brought him. Now Rory could spend his evenings watching documentaries on Netflix or downloading new library books, courtesy of the Coopersville Digital Library Collection. Rory was trying to decide which he’d rather do--read or watch a little mindless television--but he knew that his curiosity would get the better of him if he didn’t go ahead and do a little digging around on the Internet. Feeling for the receipt in his pocket, Rory let himself into his tiny home and locked the door behind him.


  6

  A Disturbing Discovery

  The last thing Annie expected to see the following morning was Emmett Barnes’ car pulling up her driveway, but there it was, before breakfast had time to get cold, and before she’d had nearly enough coffee to discuss whatever it was that Emmett wanted to talk about.

  She went out on the porch to meet him and found Rory sitting alone, nursing a cup of coffee in silence. Around the house, nature was wide awake and going about its day, but the inhabitants of the big house and its lands were still trying to shift into wakefulness.

  Morning, Rory, she called out to him, and he flashed her a smile, but it was a weak one, a tired one. What’s wrong, didn’t you sleep okay last night?

  Rory frowned. Nope. Not worth a darn, he admitted. He sat the coffee cup down on the table beside his rocking chair and glanced at Emmett’s car, which had pulled to a stop at the top of the driveway. I think raccoons must have been outside the house last night. I heard a ruckus and found some trash pulled out of the big trash can this morning, he added.

  Annie’s face showed her alarm. What? Oh, my--did they get into anything else?

  Rory knew that she was worried about her mother’s chickens. I haven’t gone round to check, but I didn’t hear the birds make any noise, so they’re probably okay. Still, might want to put out a trap or two. Raccoons are almost as bad as foxes for a hen house.

  Oh, that’s the last thing we need, Annie agreed. If something were to happen to those chickens, I’d never hear the end of it. Bessie had harangued Annie endlessly for months in order to get the chicken coop built. They’d agreed on no more than a half-dozen hens, but even that had taken a lot of effort on Annie’s part. Once Bessie got an idea into her head, she didn’t want to let go of it, and her original idea had been a dozen hens and a rooster. She’d only relented when Rory pointed out that the guests might not care for a rooster alarm clock and the smell from more than a few chickens was less than pleasant.

  Well, this place is starting to get a reputation for violent deaths, Rory joked.

  Annie’s cheeks went crimson. You hush your mouth, Rory Jenkins. Rosewood Place has no such reputation. And it’s not like people are being murdered all the time around here, she added defensively, though she supposed that the fact that she’d personally found three dead bodies on the plantation’s property since she’d bought the place didn’t really help its reputation all that much.

  And old man LaRue just died peacefully in his sleep, he replied sarcastically.

  Oh, come on, you know that was just a terrible coincidence. He was old, he was crotchety, and he could have just had really bad luck. Now, he’s gone and we’ll just have to see who, if anyone, takes his place.

  Rory nodded towards Emmett, who was climbing out of his car. Then why’s he here at this time of the morning?

  Annie chewed the inside of one cheek gently. Well, I don’t know, she admitted, but there’s no reason to jump to conclusions.

  Emmett reached the front porch as she finished speaking. Morning, Annie, Rory. I hope you have a cup of that coffee put back for me, he teased, but his smile seemed strained.

  Of course, we do, Annie replied. Why don’t we go inside and all have a cup? I was just going to have another one after I woke Devon. I guess he’s forgotten that I asked him to clean Mama’s chicken coop this morning.

  Emmett nodded. Let’s go inside. You can wake Devon after our chat if that’s alright.

  Annie got the impression that Emmett wasn’t making a social call. Did you find out something about Mr. LaRue?

  Emmett sighed. Yes. He walked through the front door of the house and headed instinctively towards the kitchen. A few minutes later, the three of them were sitting at the worn wooden kitchen table, coffee mugs in hand.

  The coroner confirmed that LaRue’s death was not a natural one. That is, a severe blow to the head is what killed him.

  Annie’s stomach lurched. Oh, no...that’s awful! Emmett, who on earth could have done such a thing? Her

  mind whirred, trying to think of who on earth could have wanted her neighbor dead. Didn’t you say he had a brother and a son? Emmett nodded. Could it have been one of them?

  Well, I still haven’t found the son, Emmett replied. And the brother claims that he hadn’t spoken to Frances in over a month. He seemed pretty shaken up when I told him about his brother’s death.

  Annie shook her head. So he was murdered in cold blood, probably in broad daylight. Oh, my word--we could have walked in on the murderer! Her blood chilled at the thought.

  Rory put his hand on hers and gave it a squeeze. But we didn’t, did we? Chief, do you have any leads so far? I mean, I know it’s early and all, but-- he hesitated. Should we be worried? I mean, should we be concerned about the safety of Annie’s guests?

  Of course, we haven't ruled out an accident. LaRue could have slipped and hit his head all on his own. Emmett offered this answer halfheartedly.

  But you don't really think that's what happened, do you? Annie narrowed her eyes. You found something in that house that makes you think somebody else was there with him.

  Emmett’s lips went into a thin line. Annie could see that whatever he had to say, he didn’t want to say it. Yes, he replied finally. I do have a lead. And, yes, you should be worried. Now, my lead, it doesn’t mean anything, he added hastily. I don’t know what it means just yet, and that’s why I’m here.

  Annie and Rory shared a look of confusion. Emmett, what did you find?

  Emmett answered reluctantly. One of my officers found a jacket at Mr. LaRue’s residence. Annie, it was Devon’s.

  Annie wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. What do you mean, it was Devon’s? She tried to imagine her son walking through the dilapidated house, but she couldn’t make the image appear in her head. How can you be sure?

  Emmett pulled a photograph from his shirt pocket. Is that Devon’s? The jacket in the photo was gray, fairly generic-looking, apart from a lime green stripe on each sleeve cuff.

  Maybe, Annie conceded, but I can’t be sure.

  Well, his initials were written inside, Emmett said, putting the picture back in his pocket. Annie, would Devon have had any reason to go over to Frances LaRue’s house, any reason at all?

  Annie shook her head. No, she replied firmly. Devon would never have gone over there. Why would he?

  Well, Emmett sighed, LaRue did threaten to kill the boy’s dog.

  Annie shook her head again, more adamantly now. No. She pushed her coffee mug away.

  Emmett nodded. I know he’s a good kid, Annie, but that jacket got over there somehow, and I need to find out how. I think you’d better go wake Devon up. Let me talk to him for a bit, and we’ll just get this all cleared up.

  Annie looked at Rory, who nodded slowly. Let Emmett talk to him. Like you said, Devon wouldn’t have gone over there, not without talking to you first.

  Annie rose and headed towards the stairs. Of course, Devon wouldn’t do such a foolish thing. Of course, she had nothing to worry about. Still, as she ascended the stairs on the way to Devon’s attic bedroom, she couldn’t help but worry about what exactly her son’s jacket was doing at the scene of a murder investigation.

  7

  Blood and Feathers

  Mom, what are you talking about? My jacket’s hanging in the downstairs closet where it always is. Devon rubbed the sleep from his eyes and tried to understand what his mother was telling him.

  No, Devon, it isn’t. I was just in there this morning and it was definitely not in there. Annie had noticed its absence as she’d put her own jacket away after feeding Karma his breakfast out by the barn. Why would your jacket be at Mr. LaRue’s house?

  Devon scowled, his teenaged face assuming a familiar pose. How should I know? The last time I saw it was when I was hanging it in the downstairs closet. He said this last part with a slow and exaggerated tone, followed by a round of eye-rolling. Sheesh, Mom--let me get dressed and I’ll come down and tell Emmett the same thin
g.

  Annie let out a sigh and turned for the door, but Devon stopped her. Wait, he said quickly, then he seemed to be unsure of what to say next.

  What? Did you remember something about your jacket?

  Devon shook his head. He’s not really interested in my jacket, is he? This is about Mr. LaRue yelling at us for letting Karma come to his property and bark at his chickens, isn’t it? Emmett thinks I went to see Mr. LaRue and now Mr. LaRue is dead. He paused for a moment, waiting for his mother to confirm his suspicion.

  Well, yes, he wants to know if you’d do something foolish like that. Annie’s eyes narrowed. Devon, you wouldn’t do something as silly as that, would you?

  Devon swallowed. Uh, well, not exactly. I did go to his house, but not to talk to him. Karma got loose after we’d promised that we’d keep him locked up. I saw him heading for Mr. LaRue’s place so I ran after him. But, I didn’t go inside, I swear.

  Annie’s heart moved itself to her throat, or so it seemed. When was this, Devon?

  The day before you and Rory, um, you know, went over with the pie.

  Annie groaned. Tell me what exactly happened--what did you do and did Mr. LaRue see you? Annie envisioned the police finding Devon’s fingerprints all over the LaRue property. She could imagine Emmett leading her son away in handcuffs, locking him up for a crime that he couldn’t have possibly committed.

  Well, I didn’t go inside the house, he stated again, because I’m not stupid and Mr. LaRue had a visitor.

  Annie’s pulse quickened. A visitor? How do you know?

  He was yelling at them, you know, like he always yelled at everybody. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman in there with him, but they were yelling right back. I couldn’t tell what they were arguing about, but they were loud and really angry. I just caught Karma and dragged him out of there as fast as I could before Mr. LaRue could see us.