“Oh, my,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me you were looking for wedding ring entries? I have a separate log for those.”
I should have known.
She turned back to the file cabinet and pulled out another book. This one was white with a golden cord attached to it as a bookmark. An outline of a couple was drawn in golden colors on the front of the log book. She flashed the front cover of her log directly in my vision and beamed. Then she opened the book.
“Now, let’s see if we can find some information about this ring set,” she said. “It won’t be as hard as you might imagine.” I never doubted for a moment.
She picked up the Tiffany diamond and took out a magnifying glass from underneath her counter. She held the diamond ring in her left hand while she turned it and searched with the magnifying glass for whatever it was she hoped to find.
“Each ring we sell that cost more than $500 is engraved with a number. We do that to protect our buyers as well as ourselves. Anyhow, the number is written in the log book and we can easily search…ah, here it is…number 003112.”
She returned to the logbook and immediately found the entry with that number.
“See, here it is. I told you it wouldn’t take … well, how about that? This ring set was purchased by Abelard Justin Gosnell for Betty Jo Gentry on the occasion of their engagement. I had completely forgotten all about him. He came in with her in December. You see the last two digits of that long number, 1 and 2? That indicates that he was here in December, a year ago December, not last December, you know. He bought this set for her and probably gave it to her on Christmas Day. So romantic, don’t you think? Some men are so romantic you know.”
“Yeah. He’s not romantic anymore,” Starnes said as she joined us at the counter. “He’s dead.”
“Well, it is a shame, I’ll tell you that. See my little red star in the corner there, above his name? That means that they were a special couple. I’m sort of intuitive about those kinds of things, and I picked them to be a couple that would make it. They were so much in love, I could tell right off. You say he died?”
“Yeah, he died,” Starnes said.
“I guess that explains why months later she came back here with her girlfriend and acted so strangely.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I never put two and two together, you know. But when she first came into the store with Lucinda Bradshaw, I thought I recognized her from a previous visit. Even though I write down everything that is sold and who buys and all that, I still remember faces. Can’t always recall names, mind you. But faces, well, I had that stuff like ESP for faces. And I thought I remembered her face. So, I welcomed her back and, boy, she told me right off that she had never been in this store in her life. That I must have confused her with some other person. I took it as the truth and never thought anymore about it. Well, I’ll be. That certainly explains what happened. She was the same person. I was right after all.”
“Just didn’t want you to know that she was the same person.”
“I guess not. Wonder why?”
“Must’ve had something to hide,” Starnes said.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“You making any sense of these developments?” Starnes asked me.
“Some theories are bumping around inside my head. That’s about it.”
“You wanna share one of your theories with me. I’m totally lost.”
“Let’s go find a coffee shop, grab a pastry and sit a while. I’ll spin you a yarn with all of the sordid details.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said.
Directly across from the Jeffers Jewelry Palace was the coffee shop that had been our lookout post on one of our previous trips to the mall. We settled into our favorite corner table with some fattening pastries and two large coffees. Starnes had a Hazelnut mixture in her java while I was indulging myself with some heavy chocolate and mint cream. I added a little coffee into the blend for a kick.
“So tell me a tale,” Starnes said.
“I may get some details wrong in my theory.”
“No kidding. I’ll allow you some leeway.”
“Lucinda Bradshaw Gosnell had an affair with Cain’s brother Abel. Apparently, Abel used her or found her convenient – as in willing – … something along those lines. After she moved to Tennessee, they continued seeing each other. She became friends with Betty Jo Gentry, and Abel likely met Betty Jo through Lucinda. Abel fell for Betty Jo and unceremoniously dumped Lucinda. My interpretation on that one. After he rejected Lucinda, she took that downturn in her life hard. I think that’s where the quote about the fury of a woman scorned comes into play.”
“So she kills Abel, is that your theory of the crime?”
“Yes, but not yet in my story. I believe that Lucinda did not know her friend Betty Jo was seeing Abel. It was a clandestine love affair. Apparently Abel was seeing both women, but at some point along his tricky path of salacious relations, he bought that engagement ring and intended to marry Betty Jo. Abel no doubt planned to eventually ease away from Lucinda and give Betty Jo his undivided attention by that point. But I figure that he played both sides for as long as he could.”
“You think that Lucinda plotted the deaths of both Abel and Betty Jo, and killed them one at a time?”
“Good question. Not part of my theory, yet. We’ll ask her when we talk with her.”
“So is that your story?”
“I haven’t finished my love triangle as yet. It’s my theory that Abel is the father of Betty Jo’s fetus. Somehow or other, Lucinda found out about Betty Jo seeing Abel behind her back. That’s when the likely murderous thoughts entered his mind. My theory is that she first got rid of Abel for his two-timing ways, and then took Betty Jo on the one way trip perhaps because she discovered the baby. Not sure about that one.”
“I suppose it’s plausible to a degree. You think Lucinda knew about the baby?”
“Don’t know. Would it matter?” I said.
“She’s a mother. Could’ve mattered.”
“Rage and jealousy don’t usually require much thinking about stuff like babies.”
“Not usually.”
“So what’s your theory?”
“I don’t have a theory. I have more questions for you,” Starnes said.
“Ask.”
“How did Lucinda find out about Betty Jo and Abel?”
“Don’t know. Could have been the rings that Abel bought for her. Could have seen them together. Could have deduced something was going on by the way they both acted. I don’t know.”
“What do you think was going on with Betty Jo and Lucinda? You know, the girlfriend thing between them,” Starnes asked.
“That’s a tougher item to put into my equation.”
“And you believe that Lucinda and Betty Jo went so far as to swing on both sides of the fence?”
“Interesting way to phrase it; but, yes, I think, if my theory holds any water, Lucinda went so far as to have a sexual relationship with Betty Jo,” I said.
“And Betty Jo … in your theory?”
“More or less played along maybe to prove that she had nothing to do with Abel,” I said.
“Never have figured out bisexuals. One or the other makes a whole lot more sense than going both ways. This way, then that way. Hard to figure,” said Starnes.
“Not very open minded, are you?”
“No,” Starnes said.
“Maybe one or both of them were not true bisexuals,” I said.
“Seems to me that either or both played their roles rather well.”
“Deceit and subterfuge know no bounds.”
“Like your philosophical musings and quotations.”
“Let’s go visit Lucinda Bradshaw in Erwin,” I said.
“We’re forgoing a visit to Betty Jo’s daughter?”
“Don’t need to see her now. Candy the jeweler gave us more than I had counted on.”
“Let’s find Betty Jo’s daughter and ta
lk.”
“Longer road trip,” I said.
“Might be worth the effort. Never know what a teenager might reveal to us.”
“Out of the mouth of babes,” I said.
“More like adolescents who might have an axe to grind,” Starnes countered.
“You channeling some inner feelings regarding parental failures?”
“Don’t go there, Miss Freud. This is about the case. We’re still a good ways from bringing this one home, don’t you think?”
Her disagreement made sense to me. Sometimes we investigators have to chase rabbits. Sometimes those rabbits lead us to viable information that forms a solid clue. Operative word is sometimes. Starnes was right, as far as I could tell. We needed to find the daughter and have a conversation.
“I’ll see if I can find an address for her,” I said since I knew exactly where I would check. I was hoping that Rogers was in her usual position – one step ahead of me. “Then we go have a little chat with your cousin Lucinda. Maybe some forceful pressure will cause her to crash and burn.”
“You don’t really think that my dear old cousin Lucinda is going to confess to us?”
“We’ll find out soon enough.”
I called Rogers while Starnes fed Sam and loaded the Jeep with some weaponry. I walked to a side yard so I could talk freely with my valuable source. It came as no surprise that Betty Jo’s daughter was living with her maternal grandmother in Erwin. Rogers provided the necessary address.
“Be careful,” Rogers warned.
“You keeping some covert fact from me regarding this young person?”
“Never.”
“Then why the cautionary note?”
“She’s a teenager.”
“I need information and I get attempts at humor.”
“Only halfway humor, dearie. Would you like for me to recount the numerical data on the number of teenagers in the United States involved in killing?”
“I’ll pass … and heed your warning.”
Now that I had agreed to Starnes’ corrective regarding finding and chatting with BJ’s oldest child, Lou Ann Gentry, I was a little relieved that she lived in the same town. The time spent on this case was beginning to exhaust me. Despite the truth that I am methodical and relentless while never becoming time-bound on my cases, this one was more than a little grueling. I suspect that all that had occurred in Starnes’ life during this period had something to do with my energy level.
It was after three o’clock when I parked the Jeep in front of Lucinda’s house on Oak Street in Erwin. As we approached the front door, we could hear music being played louder than I thought was necessary. Starnes rang the doorbell twice and we waited. The music blared on while we stood there helpless. Starnes pushed the button three more times in succession. The music refused to end or diminish.
I opened the screen door and pounded on the wooden door with my fist. The music suddenly softened to a normal volume. Background effect for the moment. Lucinda opened the door and stared at us for a brief moment.
“Come in,” she said, “I’ve been expecting you.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“I’m tired of all this,” Lucinda said to us after she had invited us into her living room and we sat down. “I know that you suspect I had something to do with the murders. You probably think I killed them, don’t you?” she said and looked at Starnes.
Starnes nodded in affirmation but said nothing.
“I didn’t kill them. I hated them. I wanted them dead. I still feel that way. I am not sorry one bit that they are dead. Abel and Betty Jo hurt me more than I could ever begin to tell you. I felt betrayed and … well, I hate them, like I said. I still hate them, even though they are dead and gone. I’m glad that they are dead. I know that sounds horrible, but I don’t give a damn. They pretended to be my friends … more than that, I suppose. How can you pretend to love somebody?”
I thought she was going to cry, but she simply stopped talking and stared out the large picture window across from where she was sitting.
“We need the gun you have, the 9mm Luger. We’ll have to run a check on it.”
“Sure,” she said and left the living room.
I looked at Starnes and she looked back at me. Several minutes passed and Lucinda had not returned. Too much time passed. We stood at the same moment, silently nodding each to the other, preparing ourselves in case we were being conned. I slipped the revolver from my back holster pointing the barrel towards the floor. I removed the safety. Starnes took her handgun from her side holster and pointed the short barrel at the floor. She moved across the room to the living room entrance, the opening where Lucinda had just exited. There we stood just like a couple of boy scouts.
Lucinda entered the room at a brisk pace and stopped suddenly when she encountered Starnes at the opening to the room.
“Sorry that took longer than I thought. I had put it up and momentarily forgot where I had placed it,” she said. A quizzical look was on her face.
Lucinda handed Starnes the Luger and then sat down. Starnes and I holstered our weapons. We were both so dumbfounded that we had no idea what to say to her.
“Are you arresting me?” Lucinda asked.
“No, but it would be wise for you to stay put while we have your gun checked. The evidence points in your direction. You have to be aware of that.”
“I had an idea you were trailing me, checking up on me, and asking around. I figured I must be a suspect. I was getting ready to call you, Starnes. At first I didn’t care, but the more I thought about it, the more I didn’t want to go to jail for something I didn’t do. If I had killed them, then I would be telling you a different story. But the truth is, somebody out there did me a big favor and killed those two bastards. Maybe I should pay the person once you find out who did it.”
“You have any other handguns in the house?” I asked.
“I have a .410 gauge shotgun that my ex-husband used once upon a time to hunt squirrels.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes. Oh, I don’t like guns. I’ve never fired one.”
“Where are Betty Jo’s daughters staying now?” Starnes asked.
“With her mother. Here in Erwin.”
“You have the address?” Starnes asked.
“I’ll get it for you,” she said. Lucinda retrieved the address and gave it to Starnes.
Starnes looked at me quizzically.
“We will probably be back,” Starnes said.
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“No,” Starnes said. “But one way or another, we will be back. Don’t leave town.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m trying to enjoy the fact that someone provided me with revenge.”
“How’s that going?” Starnes asked.
“Haven’t found any satisfaction as yet,” Lucinda said. “You think it would be more rewarding if I had killed them?” she asked.
“No,” Starnes said and we left.
We climbed into the Jeep and headed across the small town of Erwin.
“You already had the address for Lou Ann,” she said.
“Verification and lie detector test.”
“Oh. You don’t trust Lucinda, huh?”
“I trust so few in this world. It’s a one hand count thus far.”
“Am I one of those counted?”
“You bet your life.”
Lou Ann and Rebecca Ann Gentry were living with Margaret Boyd their maternal grandmother now that Betty Jo Gentry was no longer around to take care of them. We found Margaret’s house on Spring Street in Erwin.
“It even looks like a grandmother’s house,” I said as I parked in front.
“Didn’t know a grandmother’s house had a look about it,” Starnes said.
“Big, two-story, white framed with green shutters and a front porch that had enough area to allow the grandkids to chase each other if the occasion manifested itself.”
“Not my childhood.”
“I
have lots of memories growing up in Clancyville,” I said.
“I have memories as well, just not those kinds of memories. Mine are mountain memories. Similarly different.”
An attractive, silver-haired woman answered the door. I surmised her to be Margaret Boyd, but I had no substantive reason for knowing that. A guess, nothing more. We introduced ourselves and asked if we could talk with Lou Ann Gentry.
“The girls are studying now,” she said through the screen door.
“This won’t take a long time,” Starnes said. “It’s part of an official investigation into her mother’s death.”
“May I be present while you question her?” Margaret said.
“Absolutely,” Starnes replied.
Margaret Boyd invited us into her home and escorted us into what she called the parlor. French Provincial was the motif of the furniture design that prevailed. She pointed to an uncomfortable-looking couch sitting catty-cornered across from the double-door entrance angled against the double front windows. I took that to mean she wanted us parked there.
“I’ll get Lou Ann and some refreshments,” she said and left us without waiting for either of us to comment.
We exchanged glances without saying anything. Starnes sat and I looked around before sitting. Insatiable curiosity plus my innate desire to absorb the environs of a new place. There was a porch swing discernible through the double windows. It made me smile and remember my youth.
A dark-haired teenage girl suddenly appeared at the entrance to the parlor. Margaret stood directly behind her with both hands on the girl’s shoulders. I stood up but Starnes remained seated. I wasn’t sure why I stood. It even felt a little odd, but since I was already up, I decided to stay there while Margaret laid out the format.
“This is Lou Ann. Lou Ann, this is Clancy Evans and Starnes Carver. Miss Carver is the Sheriff of McAdams County in North Carolina. They would like to talk with you about your mother. You can sit there,” she pointed to a pink, French chair stationed in front of a Baby Grand piano. “You folks can exchange pleasantries while I prepare some refreshments.”
When Blood Cries: A Clancy Evans Mystery (Clancy Evans PI Book 6) Page 17
