Murder for a Rainy Day (Pecan Bayou Book 6)

by Teresa Trent

  "Hi Bets. We just took a break so I'm calling to check in on you. Are you getting some rest today?"

  "Yeah, I've rested a bit." That was sort of true.

  "Any word from the boys today?" Leo asked.

  "No, not today," I replied. Then I couldn't help myself. "I think we found the thief," I blurted out.

  "We? Who is 'we'? Betsy, please tell me you haven't been out chasing down leads on this silly animal theft. My work schedule is stressful enough with this hurricane and knowing I can't be at home with you. I need to know that you're home safe and sound, not out putting yourself and our baby at risk."

  "But Leo…"

  "No. What you are doing is dangerous, and you have to think of the baby." Now he was being silly. Dr. Randall had told me I was having a very healthy pregnancy. Leo was acting like I had been confined to bed rest until the baby came. I loved that he was very protective of me, but sometimes it was just too much.

  "Look, Leo. You know I’ve been driving to Benny’s every day to get my piece of pie. This all just sort of happened along the way."

  "Along the way? You’re a drive-by detective now?"

  "Yes. It’s amazing, if you ask me."

  "I didn’t ask, and I can also tell when you’re stretching the facts, Bets."

  "Okay," I admitted. "I’ve probably done a little more than what I’ve been telling you, but Leo, I’m so bored here at home waiting for the baby and not having the boys around. You can understand that, can’t you?"

  He sighed. "I know you’d rather be doing more, but it’s just for a little while longer. So how on earth did you catch the animal thief?"

  "I figured it out right after we staked out Birdie’s Diner…"

  "What? When did you do that?"

  "Uh … did I forget to mention that part? It’s not important."

  "Betsy!"

  "It’s a long story, but I figured out that the thief was a local wannabe painter and we found all three of the stolen items in his backyard."

  "You and Aunt Maggie?"

  "No. Rocky and I. Maggie and Danny were with me on the stakeout, which really wasn’t so good because we were asleep in the car when the thief stole the soup-can chicken. It should be in the paper tomorrow."

  "Do the police know?"

  "Dad is in a meeting, but as soon as it’s over, he's going to go pick up the animals."

  "What about the painter? When is he going to arrest him?"

  "As soon as they find him. He wasn’t home when we found the statues." I yawned.

  "You sound tired. How are you feeling?"

  "Good. I appreciate you calling, as you can see I’ve been a little preoccupied. I’m feeling fine. I know you like constant updates about the baby. When something happens, I’ll let you know."

  I heard a phone ring in the background. "At least let somebody know. I have to go now, but promise me you’ll take it easy. You’ve cracked the police department’s only case. Take this lull in crime-solving as a sign. No more staking out restaurants and finding stolen property. Will you promise me?"

  "I promise."

  After hanging up, I knew Aunt Maggie would want to know about what was in Connor Holman’s backyard.

  "I’ll be darned," she said a few minutes later. "That’s beyond weird."

  "Oh." I jumped.

  "Betsy? Is something wrong?" she asked.

  "Maybe." The baby had just given me an NFL-worthy kick, but then settled down again. "No, nothing’s wrong. I'm fine." I felt a sudden tightening around the baby.

  "Betsy? Are you still there?"

  I answered with an exhale. "Sure. I'm doing better now. The baby’s movement feels different somehow. I can’t explain it."

  "That sounds like labor to me."

  "No. I've had a baby before. This is not labor. It's just being nine months pregnant and stretched every which way."

  "Okay. You should know. It’s been a long time since I was expecting."

  "Thanks, I appreciate you trusting me on this."

  "I still think it might be a good idea to check in with the doctor."

  "You worry too much."

  We hung up the phone, and before I could put it away, it rang again.

  "Really, I’m not having a baby!" I answered.

  A man’s voice spoke on the other end. "You won’t be if you don’t keep your nose out of everyone’s business. You’ve been warned. Go have your baby and leave this alone, or both you and your baby will die." A click sounded on the other end.

  I released a breath I didn't even know I was holding. There had been so much hate in that voice. My hand shook as I set down the phone. How did anyone even know I figured out where the animals were? I pulled up the online version of the Pecan Bayou Gazette on a hunch. My suspicion was confirmed. Rocky had posted pictures of the animals in Connor Holman’s backyard. Under Rocky’s headline was a second lead-in: Happy Hinter Finds Stolen Menagerie.

  Rocky had even put the photo of the animals above the picture of Hurricane Ezra, the news story the rest of the state would have led with. According to Rocky this was the real news in Pecan Bayou. Millions of people were heading north to evacuate a killer hurricane, but more importantly three fake animals were stolen and caged up cruelly behind a privacy fence.

  I clicked off the computer and decided maybe it was time to finish packing my bag for the hospital. I searched for my extra phone charger to put in, and then carried it to the front door. If this baby was coming, the least I could do was to prepare for it. I couldn't believe in just a short time this little person who had been happily inside me for the last nine months would be here to hold in my arms. I felt myself tearing up. Another joy of pregnancy and increased hormonal levels was crying at the drop of a hat. I couldn't even trust myself to watch the Hallmark Channel without a big box of Kleenex next to me on the couch.

  As I set the bag down, I felt a sense of melancholy. I could call Aunt Maggie, but I knew I needed more than a phone call. I grabbed my keys and the bag and headed for her house. If I was starting labor, at least I would be with someone. Leo had begged me to stay home, but this was my second home. When I told him about the crank call I had just received, I knew he would approve.

  Aunt Maggie greeted me with open arms, of course.

  "I'm so glad you came over Betsy. You know how I worry with you being alone over at your house so much." Maggie fussed over me as I settled in on the living room couch, hugging a pillow.

  "No need. I'm fine." She surveyed my expression.

  "You don’t look so good. Are you sure…"

  "I’m sure. No labor."

  "You know until the hurricane passes and Leo's back by your side all the time, would you consider just staying here with me for a while? It would really make me feel a whole lot better."

  "You’re probably right. If it’s not an imposition, I think that’s a good idea. I’d love to stay here with you.."

  "Oh Danny will be so excited."

  "Is he at day-habilitation today?"

  "Yes. They're still open. You know they’ll close as soon as the weather sets in. He gets stir crazy when he’s home too much. Let him have some time with his friends."

  "Do you want me to go with you to get him this afternoon?"

  "No, you stay here and rest. He’ll be so excited to see you here when he gets home. If you stay here tonight, what about Butch?"

  I had completely forgotten about our weimaraner. "Oh no…" I started to get up to get my keys.

  "No, no. You just sit there, baby girl. I'll run over and pick him up and drop him by Dr. Springer's office. It might be a good idea just to board him there until after the storm anyway."

  "Thanks," I said.

  "No problem. You just relax and try not to worry."

  Once again I felt that intense tightening on my belly. I reached down and caressed it. This time it was even more intense than the last time. Aunt Maggie came over and put her arm around me.

  "Is that a labor pain?"

  "No. I don't think
so. It's just so strong. Still though, I don't have any pain."

  "I think you're having Braxton Hicks. Do you remember those from Zach?"

  She was right. I did have the same experience with Zach. The tightening was often mistaken for labor. It felt like labor without the pain. Many women rush to the emergency room with Braxton Hicks to find out they were nowhere near delivering the baby.

  Relief rushed over me as the painless contraction ceased. "Oh, Aunt Maggie. I'm so glad I'm here. It just helps to talk to you."

  "Well we can at least hope that's what you're feeling. So can you tell me if it's a boy or a girl?"

  "No. You're just going to have to wait like everybody else."

  "I'm just dying to know. There's a betting pool down at The Best Little Hairhouse in Texas."

  "There too?"

  "Just because the ladies don’t hang out at Bubba’s Beer and Bait doesn’t mean we can’t have a little wager now and again."

  "And what did you bet?"

  "You have a few secrets, so I guess that's the secret I’ll keep from you." She smiled at her sense of power. Once more I felt the tears coming on. Could she understand how safe and secure I felt here in her home? So many things had been going on, I didn't realize how much I needed her company.

  Maggie reached up and brushed a tear off my cheek. "Oh, all right. I’ll tell. I think it’s going to be a girl."

  *****

  An hour later Maggie returned with Danny who was indeed overjoyed I was spending the night. My father stopped by Aunt Maggie’s for a sandwich after the hurricane meeting.

  "Have you seen the Gazette online?" I asked.

  "As a matter of fact I have. Someone at the meeting asked me if I should let all of my deputies go home and just put you on the payroll. You might get a cold shoulder around the department. It looks pretty bad when our trained detectives get shown up by the Happy Hinter."

  "She’s just like Batman. She gets the bad guys," Danny said, squirting ketchup on his ham sandwich.

  "You were right about my heightened sense of smell. First, I smelled paint, and then I found the smiley face. Once I found it, I knew who had taken the soup-can chicken."

  "Yeah, well next time let me in on it."

  "Ah come on, Judd. Let your daughter have her moment in the sun," Maggie said.

  I debated whether I should tell my dad about the threatening phone call. He was already handling a lot between the storm and thefts. I could hold onto that information for a little while longer. His mood would improve once he had Connor Holman behind bars. I would tell him after he’d locked Holman up. He was just a crazy animal hoarder. Not exactly a murderer.

  "So are you going to arrest Holman tonight?" I asked. He reached over and grabbed some onions and added them to his second sandwich.

  "Yes ma’am. As soon as I finish up here. I guess I don’t need to tell you how pleased I am you’ve decided to stay with Maggie and Danny."

  "You don’t."

  "With everyone so busy with the hurricane, I’m just lucky we can take care of this guy before we have to shelter the town."

  "I’m going to love hearing what led him to it."

  "Stuff like this never has a good explanation. You just can’t track crazy sometimes."

  "I'd like to go with you when you arrest him" I said, taking a bite of my sandwich. I suddenly felt three pairs of eyeballs turned to me.

  "Why would you want to do that?" my father asked.

  "I sort of feel like this collar is mine. I was the one who solved this case for you, and I should at least be in on the arrest."

  "Can I go too, Uncle Judd?" Danny added.

  "Judd, you can’t let her do this, and Danny you can’t go either," Maggie said.

  "I have a legitimate reason for being there," I said. "There’s something I haven’t told you. Before I came over here, a man called and threatened me over the phone."

  "Who threatened you?"

  "I don’t know. Maybe if I heard Holman speak, I could identify his voice. After that, I promise I will sit right here and practice my Lamaze breathing all night." Judd took a moment to think about it.

  "What would Leo think of you going along on an arrest at this point in your pregnancy?"

  "Oh. He’ll be fine. I’ll be with you, so he knows I’ll be safe. I wouldn’t worry about Leo. He trusts me."

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  A few hours later, we stood on the doorstep of Connor Holman’s house. It looked exactly the same as it had earlier, except now clouds moving in were obstructing the sun. The little gray house seemed even more depressing than it had before.

  "Okay now Betsy, here's the deal. I'll do all the talking, and you do all the listening. If you think this is the man who threatened you, then you just give me a thumbs-up and head back for the cruiser. Do you understand?"

  "Listen, thumbs-up, and back to the cruiser. Got it."

  My father pounded on the door.

  "Police. We need to talk to you."

  Not surprisingly, there wasn’t a response to my father’s demands. He beat on the door again. No sound from the other side. He opened the screen door and with his finger, gently nudged the wooden inner door. It was not locked. It wasn’t even fully shut.

  "Are you sure we can do this? Don’t you need a search warrant or something?"

  "Maybe you’d better get back to the car."

  "Not on your life. You think I’m leaving you alone?"

  "Darlin’, I think you need to go to the car now." I pushed past my father and walked into the house. The smell of rotting flesh hit me. I held my hand up to my mouth, covering my nose.

  "Hello? Anybody home?" I called out.

  "It’s the police Mr. Holman. We need to speak to you about the stolen items in your yard."

  I headed toward the living room. "Is anybody here?"

  As I walked around the corner of the couch I could see a hand sticking out, splattered with yellow paint. The skin tone was a deep purple with touches of gray. There was no doubt. This person had been dead for a quite some time.

  "I think I found something," I said from behind my hand. Holman was sprawled out on the floor. He was as dead as the menagerie that graced his backyard. From the amount of blood and the slash under his chin it looked as if his throat had been cut.

  My dad stepped in front of me, now holding a red bandana over his mouth. Seeing the paint- splattered hand, he paced back and began turning me around.

  "Enough already. I need to get you back to the car."

  This time I didn’t argue. It was like the smell of the stinking corpse had taken all of the air out of the room.

  "Do you think one of the people he stole from did this?" I said as I crossed the living room back to the front door.

  "Maybe. Not sure. Hey, find something to prop that door open, will you?"

  I searched around the room and finally picked up a hand-carved horse and stuck it in the doorway. My dad walked over and took in some of the fresh air from the outside. We both took the opportunity to sit on the front step and try to clear the smell of rotting flesh from our noses. I turned to face my dad. "There's something I probably should tell you about Mr. Holman."

  "And what would that be?"

  "Connor Holman was involved in a love triangle."

  "And who would be in this triangle?"

  "His ex-wife Sasha Holman was having an affair."

  "How do you know this?"

  "I happened on the information by accident," I said.

  "Did she say he was the kind of fellow who would threaten her or abuse her?"

  "I don’t think he was too happy about it. She did mention he had a temper. The man she’s having an affair with is married. Holman was pretty hard up for money and could have been threatening to expose her."

  "And how is it you're having these conversations with this woman?" my dad asked.

  "She's Benny’s new waitress."

  My father smiled. "Ah, the secret life of pie. It’s hard for me to believe a guy
who got his jollies painting smiley faces everywhere would work a blackmail scheme."

  "Still though, we have to consider Holman was the mastermind behind the animal thefts."

  "Mastermind? That’s a little strong, don’t you think? This guy was her ex-husband, correct? Even if he did try to blackmail her lover, it doesn’t mean they would even care, and who cares if a divorced waitress is having an affair? She can sleep around all she likes. She doesn’t have a position where people question her morals like the president of a church congregation."

  "No, but the person she's having the affair with…." I continued.

  "You're telling me she was having an affair with Drummond Struthers?"

  "No. Baxter Digby."

  My father's eyebrows went up. "I’ll be doggoned. Is that right? Digby is as slimy as they come around here. You know Mrs. Thatcher bought a house he had listed and had to correct his math at the closing. Seems he made a few errors that accidentally increased his commission."

  "It doesn’t surprise me," I said. "I also heard he has a reputation for being controlling. Even if he’s cheating on his wife, any woman he loves would need to live up to his expectations."

  My father scratched his head as he thought about everything, putting together the facts. He pulled out his notebook.

  "So the first person I need to talk to is Mr. Baxter Digby, a pretty good suspect at this point in the investigation."

  The air in the house felt thick and putrid, and I was starting to feel nauseous.

  "You know Dad, don’t worry about me waiting in the car. I think I'll call Aunt Maggie to come pick me up. I've had enough of crime-solving for the day."

  He reached over with the back of his hand and felt my cheeks. "I think that's a right fine idea, darlin’. I'll take it from here, junior detective." I was never so happy to breathe the fresh, albeit overheated, Texas air as my father walked back into the home of Connor Holman.

  I decided before going to the car, I would take a quick walk into the backyard to check on the herd of artificial animals whose eyes had all silently watched the murder of their kidnapper. Would the owners put the animals back up before the storm? I just hoped Charlie Loper’s glove would remain secure until his fingers could be repaired and the horse’s reigns could be reattached, so he would not go flipping off the rest of Texas.