“What tipped you off?” Todd wanted to know. He sounded genuinely interested, and not at all judgmental. It was a nice change.
Rafe glanced at him. “It wasn’t really one thing. Gut feeling, I guess. That, and he kept trying to insert himself into the case. He showed up at Robbie’s that first day knowing about the murders. None of us called him. It was easy to explain away—lots of people there, any one of’em could have given him a call—but it wasn’t us.”
The sheriff nodded. “It made sense that he’d come and offer help, though. I didn’t think anything of it.”
“Sure. But then he kept showing up. He showed up at the hospital last night, and did everything he could to get himself officially attached to the case. That’s why he tried to take you out, you know. He wasn’t trying to kill you. Just put you outta commission for a few days, so he could offer to step in. And when that didn’t work, he tried to shoot me.”
And in that instance, I wasn’t entirely sure he’d been shooting to wound. Rafe had been hit in the upper arm. A foot to the right, and it would have been the middle of the chest. And a bullet there was likely to have taken him out permanently.
“I guess he was hoping to blame those shootings on the South Americans,” I said. “He knew you were looking into the drug scene. He assigned Lupe Vasquez to take you around.”
I glanced at her. She nodded.
“But he didn’t realize that you’d been speaking with the South Americans when Sheriff Satterfield was shot. Nor that you made sure they knew you weren’t interested in their business. They had no reason to want to get rid of you.”
Rafe shook his head. “I started suspecting him after he showed up at the hospital. When someone shot at us last night, I was pretty sure he was involved.”
“So when he called this morning, why did you take us up into the hills?” Lupe Vasquez wanted to know. “Didn’t you suspect that something would happen?”
Rafe made a face. “I thought it was one of Pablo’s guys. Pablo said he’d ask some questions, and I thought it was a call from somebody who wanted to pass on some information. I shoulda known better.”
“I didn’t consider it, either,” I said, slipping my hand into his. “I was worried the first time we went up there. When we got the call telling us to look behind Robbie’s trailer. I was worried that someone planned to get you out there by yourself, to kill you. But since that didn’t happen, I didn’t think anything of it this time. I just assumed it was the same guy, and he was harmless.”
“It’s not your job to think about stuff like that, darlin’.” He squeezed my hand.
“You can’t think of everything, Rafael,” Mother said. “And you saved Savannah. And Officer Vasquez.”
Rafe glanced at Lupe Vasquez, and at me, and grinned. “They held their own.”
“I packed our bags while you were out this afternoon,” I told him. “We’re ready to go home, unless anyone needs Rafe to stay longer?”
I glanced at the sheriff, who shook his head. “I’m sure we can handle it from here. Unless... You don’t wanna be interim police chief of Columbia, I suppose?”
“No,” Rafe said, “thank you.”
“I could put in a good word. Maybe make the position permanent.”
“No. Thank you.”
The sheriff nodded. “I thought not. But I figured I should ask.”
“I already have a job. One I oughta get back to.”
“We appreciate you taking the time to come down here and help out. I know you don’t like coming back.”
Rafe grinned. “I like it better’n I used to. Maybe in another dozen years, I’ll take you up on that job offer.”
“By then you can have my job,” the sheriff said, and stood to shake hands. “Thanks for the help.”
“Anytime.” They shook, carefully, and Rafe turned to me. “I’ll go get the bags.”
I nodded. “Upstairs in our room.”
He headed out, and I turned to Mother. “Thanks for having us. And the dog.”
Mother assured me it was no problem. I addressed Pearl. “Time to go, sweetheart.”
She flapped her stubby tail once, but didn’t get up.
“Go outside?” I tried. “Car ride?”
She grinned, but didn’t move.
“Come on, Pearl.” I took two steps closer and bent.
Pearl flopped over on her back with all four legs in the air, exposing a pink tummy. I don’t think it was to make it easier for me to pick her up.
“I don’t think she wants to go,” my mother said.
I looked at her. “She has to go. That was the whole point. I was going to take her home with me. She can’t stay here.”
“She can stay here,” Mother said. While I stared at her, she added, “I’ve gotten used to her. It’s nice to have a dog again, after all these years.”
Had she lost her mind? “She’s not exactly a Chihuahua.” Or some other elegant designer breed Mother could carry around in her purse.
“I like her,” Mother said. “She makes me feel safe.”
There was no arguing with that. She made me feel safe, too.
“I’m happy to leave her,” I said, “if you’re sure you want me to.” Mother nodded. “But if things don’t work out, I want you to let me know. Don’t just take her to the pound or anything like that.”
“As if I would.” Mother sniffed. “We’ll be just fine.” She glanced down at Pearl. “Isn’t that right?”
Pearl slapped her tail against the floor in response.
OK, then. I guess it was settled. I was out the price of a pink collar and leash, and minus one dog. “Before I go,” I said to Todd. “Does the DA’s office have any plans of charging Yvonne McCoy with the murder of Beulah Odom?”
He shook his head. “Not that I’ve heard. In fact, as far as we’re concerned, it’s still death by natural causes. We don’t charge people in those circumstances.”
“Detective Jarvis is trying to prove that it was murder. After the Odoms lost the competency hearing, they started saying that Beulah had been murdered and that Yvonne did it. They even got an exhumation order and dug her up.”
Todd nodded. “I heard.”
“The second autopsy didn’t reveal anything the first autopsy didn’t,” Patrick Nolan volunteered. “And Jarvis claims Chief Carter pushed him to reopen the case.”
Another attempt to make himself look good, perhaps. “I think the Odoms did it,” I told Todd, and followed up with all the reasons why. “I understand that they may get away with it. If you can’t prove that it was murder, you can’t charge them with anything. But if you’re going to charge somebody, I’d much rather have it be the Odoms than Yvonne.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Todd told me, his lips twitching.
By now Rafe had come back from putting the bags in the car, and was standing in the doorway waiting. “Ready?”
I nodded. “Pearl’s staying here.”
He glanced from me to the dog to Mother and back. “I figured.”
He’d been quicker on the uptake than I had, then. Although I have to admit that part of me was relieved about it. I didn’t think Pearl would do anything to harm the baby, but as they say, better safe than sorry.
“You’ll have to come down and testify,” Todd told Rafe.
He nodded. “We’ll be back before then. Thanksgiving’s in a few weeks.”
It was. And while I hadn’t received a formal invitation, it seemed Rafe had.
“We’ll see you soon,” I said. And turned my husband around and pushed him out the door. “Quickly. Before they try to stop us.”
He grinned down at me. “Problem?”
“I think the sheriff’s staying the night. I know he and my mother have sex, but I don’t want to be in the house when they do.” We passed through the front door and into the night.
The bags were already in the car, and now Rafe tucked me into the passenger seat.
“So,” I said when he’d walked around the front of
the car—with no one shooting at him this time—and gotten behind the wheel. “Interim chief of police?”
He grimaced as he turned the key in the ignition. “Not a lot of jobs I’d want less than that one.”
I could imagine. “Except maybe Maury County sheriff?”
He gave me a look as the car began to roll down the driveway toward the road. “You want me to be Maury County sheriff?”
“You can be anything you want to be,” I told him. “It doesn’t matter to me. If you decide you’d like to live in Sweetwater and keep the peace in Columbia or Maury County, I’ll be behind you all the way. And if you don’t, that’s OK, too.”
Just as long as we were together.
He nodded. “We’ve got some time to figure it out.”
We did. One day at a time. I leaned back against the seat and watched the mansion disappear in the distance as we made our way up the Columbia Highway toward Nashville and, for the time being, home.
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About the Author
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jenna Bennett (Jennie Bentley) writes the Do It Yourself home renovation mysteries for Berkley Prime Crime and the Savannah Martin real estate mysteries for her own gratification. She also writes a variety of romance for a change of pace. Originally from Norway, she has spent more than twenty five years in the US, and still hasn’t been able to kick her native accent.
For more information, please visit Jenna’s website: www.JennaBennett.com
BAD DEBT
Savannah Martin Mystery #14
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Copyright © 2017 Bente Gallagher
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Bad Debt (Savannah Martin Mysteries Book 14) Page 29
