“That’s no reason to want to kill Mason.”
“Who said—”
Ethan’s truck roared up the driveway. He burst from the cab and dashed to the porch. “What’s going on here? If you’ve touched her, Bill, I’ll—”
Bill held up his hands. “Slow down. I haven’t laid a finger on her.”
You’ve got to love a man who comes to your rescue with such passion.
“I’m fine, Ethan. I fell out of the chair when the phone rang. When I went back to explain it to you, you’d already hung up. Bill rang the doorbell at the same time.”
“Aw man.” Ethan held out a hand. “I’m sorry. Summer said she was hurt, then I see you standing over her. . .”
“No problem.” Bill returned the handshake. “I thought maybe she would know where Mason is. Seems the man’s disappeared. Cherish what you’ve got here, Ethan. A faithful woman.”
With those words, he marched down the steps and disappeared down the highway.
Ethan joined me on the swing and slung an arm around my shoulders. “Are you all right?”
I nodded. “Just bruised. Something about that man seems off, doesn’t it?”
“A bit.” He pulled me closer, and I snuggled into his warmth. “He’s grieving over Renee’s death and betrayal. Now, what have you been up to?”
“Trying to make leeway on this case. I’m getting close, but I’m stuck. My books on spying and crime solving haven’t helped much.” I sighed. “I’ve been somewhere and seen something that should make it all come together, but I just can’t get ahold of it.”
“It’ll come to you.” He laid a kiss on the top of my head. “Mason kissed me today.”
“He did, huh?”
“On the forehead. Right after I warned him that I thought he might be in danger.” I lifted my head to peer at Ethan. “Aren’t you even the least bit jealous?”
“Why should I be? I’m the one you’re snuggling on the porch swing with.”
I punched him in the upper arm. “You trust me that much?”
“With all my heart. Did you like the kiss?”
“It was on the forehead. Like a brother to a sister.” I settled back against him, shifting to take the pressure off my sore tailbone. “But it would’ve been nice for you to get a little upset. He said the two of us could have something, if it weren’t for you.”
“Want me to go punch his lights out?” Ethan chuckled.
“No, Bill will take care of that if he finds him.”
I’d have to let Joe know where Mason had gone and that Bill was looking for him. I couldn’t handle having a death on my conscience. And regardless of Bill’s words to the contrary,
I felt he could kill if pushed. If he hadn’t done so already.
“Joe? Did I wake you?” Propped against pillows on my bed, I settled the phone between my shoulder and ear. “Or did I interrupt something?” I giggled. “Are you and April snuggling?”
“You know me better than that. What do you want?”
“Hello to you, too.” I’d seen the two wrapped around each other. Joe didn’t fool me for a minute.
“You’re interrupting a movie.”
“Sorry.” This was harder than I thought. Best just to blurt it out. “I just wanted to let you know that Mason has gone away for a while.”
Joe was silent for a minute then sighed. “Okay, you have my attention. How do you know this?”
“I saw him today, and he told me.”
“What time today?”
“Around six o’clock.”
“It’s ten o’clock! You’re just now letting me know?”
“I’ve been busy.” I slid to a slouching position. “I really think he’s innocent. I know where he is if you need him. Mason said he’d been attacked in his driveway this morning. I told him about my suspicions that the killer will start on men now.”
“And you believed him?”
“He was very disheveled, Joe. Not like himself at all.”
“Ethan needs to have his head examined, wanting to marry a woman like you.”
“You don’t have to get mean.” I switched the phone to my other side. “I didn’t have to call you. You wouldn’t have known any different.”
Joe muttered something.
“Watch your blood pressure. Look, if he does turn out to be the bad guy, I give you permission to arrest me again.” Truly jumped on the bed and laid her head in my lap. I twirled the long hair on her ears.
“I don’t need your permission!”
“Instead of yelling at me, you should be focusing more effort on catching the Conscience of Mountain Shadows. That’s what I’ve decided to call the killer. Catchy, isn’t it? I’ll have to let Ruby know so she can print it in the paper. Have you noticed he’s only killed those having affairs?”
“Edna Mobley wasn’t having an affair.”
“A love affair, Joe.” Sometimes my cousin could be dense.
“You’re having a love affair.”
My face heated. “No, I’m not! Not the kind they were. I’m a virtuous woman. Just ask Bill Olson.” Well, he didn’t say virtuous, but faithful was almost the same thing.
“What’s he got to do with it?”
“He’s looking for Mason.”
“Don’t tell me you told him where to look?”
“Of course not. I played dumb.”
“Easy for you. Not much acting involved.”
“You’re being mean again. I’m hanging up.”
I wanted to throw the phone across the room. Instead, I exercised self-control, carefully set it in its cradle, and pounded the mattress.
Joe’s wisecrack remarks made me more determined to solve this case. I’d definitely make time to visit Larry Bell’s farm again tomorrow. Right after another trip to the mortuary.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
I rushed through making nut clusters, set the pans in front of the fan to cool, then grabbed my purse. “I’m going to see Lewis Anderson. Back in a few.”
Aunt Eunice frowned then waved me on. “Don’t be too long. We’ve got work to do.”
“An hour—tops.” I pushed through the back door. We had orders to fill, a wedding to plan, a killer to find. My to-do list never seemed to stop. Before I knew it, I’d pulled up to the last item on my list.
Two cars sat in the parking lot of Mountain Shadows’ Funeral Home. I guessed Lewis’s and his receptionist’s. Wonderful. No witnesses to listen to my questioning or make smart-aleck remarks about my snooping.
The slam of my car door echoed over the quiet, sweeping lawn and adjoining cemetery. Eerie, in spite of the bright September sunlight. Even more somber when I stepped inside the building.
Plush carpet muted my footsteps, and soft music played from hidden speakers. Ambience meant to soothe, yet left me feeling very alone. I shuddered. Did anyone ever really appreciate the surroundings meant to put grieving family members at ease? I didn’t think so. I glanced around the reception area. No heavily made-up woman sat behind the desk this time.
“Hello?” I peered over the desk for a bell to push. Nothing. Guess it would detract from the peaceful atmosphere. “Anyone here?”
“May I help you?”
I stifled a cry and whirled. The woman who’d been the receptionist for Mae Belle’s funeral stared impassively at me, one perfectly tweezed eyebrow raised. Was that flawless, plastic look the result of Botox or a life of no emotion? I shook my head to redirect my thoughts.
“I’m wondering whether it would be possible to speak with Mr. Anderson?”
She gave a tiny nod. “He has no other appointments. You may go on back. He’s around here somewhere.” The woman turned and disappeared through a door, her back as straight as an iron rod. I self-consciously adjusted my own posture.
I decided to try his office first. The door swung open at my touch. No Lewis Anderson sat behind the immaculate desk. I couldn’t resist marching over to glance at his desk planner. Two funerals. Business must be slow. I tried the draw
ers. Locked. Someday, I’d have to learn to pick locks. The skill would come in handy at a time like this.
A door to my right led to an empty restroom. I turned to the office window, which looked over the grounds. No sight of Mr. Anderson. Not weeping on a bench in the garden nor striding among the tombstones. Where could the grief-stricken adulterer be?
Hitching my purse more securely on my shoulder, I headed to the viewing rooms. No sign of anyone—living or dead. Just rows and rows of chairs facing an empty pedestal. If I hadn’t seen the woman-with-no-expression-lines on her face, I’d have thought I was the only person in the world. Living an episode out of a Twilight Zone episode. I shivered and backed away to turn toward the casket showcase room.
My ears rang from the silence. I wanted to shout, dance, sing, cry, something to prove I wasn’t a wraith floating from quiet place to quiet place. Casket lids lay open to reveal the plush insides.
I squinted and shuffled toward the farthest one, glanced inside, jumped back, and screamed.
Lewis Anderson’s eyes popped open, and he gave a shriek of his own.
“What are you doing? I thought you were dead.” I clapped a hand over my mouth and staggered back.
“Taking a nap.” He sat up. “These caskets are comfortable, and nobody bothers me. Usually.”
“I wouldn’t imagine so.” I waited while he unfolded his lanky body and climbed out. If I wasn’t convinced of his oddity before, I was now.
Lewis straightened his ink-colored suit jacket, slipped his feet into nearby shoes, then towered over me. “Did you need me for something? Lose another family member?”
“No, I’d like to ask you a couple of questions.” I folded my arms. “Where were you yesterday morning?”
“What time?”
I cringed as I realized I hadn’t asked what time someone had bashed Mason in the head. “Uh, before ten.”
Lewis raised his eyebrows. “Sleeping, then I had breakfast, then I came to work. There’s quite a time frame there, Miss Meadows.”
“Have you seen Sherry Grover since the tornado?”
“Who? Oh, you mean the lady who worked for my Mae Belle. No, I haven’t. Is she missing?” He glanced toward the door. “Would you like to stroll around the garden as we talk?”
I glanced at the empty caskets, envisioned myself inside one, and nodded. A shiver ran down my spine as we stepped into the sunshine, and I gulped a breath of the fresh air. A car sped down the nearby highway, reaffirming the fact that I wasn’t alone in the world with creepy mortician Lewis Anderson.
He lowered himself to a concrete bench and patted the empty space beside him. “From your questions, I gather you’re no closer to finding Mae Belle’s killer.”
“How well did you know Edna Mobley?” No way was I going to let one of my prime suspects know how much information I did, or didn’t, possess.
“The dead lady from your aunt and uncle’s party? Not well, I’m afraid. I haven’t heard whether Hubert plans on using my services or not. It’s been two days. He needs to make plans. Edna had no family. Poor man. Seems we’ve both lost someone we love.”
“Don’t forget Renee. Two men professed to love her.”
Lewis shrugged. “Not the same, I’m afraid. My Mae Belle was a lady of the highest caliber. Not in the same league as Renee at all.”
“Mae Belle was dating a married man, Mr. Anderson. You. I don’t think that qualifies her as virtuous woman of the year.”
His gaze hardened and focused on me with an icy glare that belied the thin-lipped smile he gave me. “Yes, we had our obstacles to overcome.”
He stood. “I’m afraid I have work to do, Miss Meadows. Have a nice day.” Lewis spun and stalked away.
Seemed I’d touched a nerve, and Lewis Anderson moved up a notch on my suspect list. Beneath his calm demeanor lurked a crazy person. No sane man would take naps in a coffin. I rose and headed to the parking lot.
My heart skipped a beat to see Hubert, head down, making his way to the front door of the building. “Mr. Smith!”
The man actually grimaced when he spotted me then stopped and forced a smile to his face. “Do you need a follow-up appointment?”
“No, thank you. My teeth are fine. How are you doing?” People didn’t make dental appointments at funeral homes, did they?
He took a deep breath. “I’m okay. Running errands and. . .making arrangements.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
Hubert sniffed. “The night Edna died, we’d had a fight. I’d dragged her into the woods for a little, um, well, you get the idea. She said it’d be too embarrassing. Too many people around. Someone could catch us. I said the thrill would keep us young. She stormed off in a huff.”
I gnawed the inside of my cheek before answering. “I thought the two of you were playing a game. Hide-and-seek.”
“She hid. I searched. Really Miss Meadows, I’ve business to attend to. And not pleasant business at that.”
“I just spoke with Mr. Anderson, and he said he had no appointments today. He also seemed surprised that you haven’t approached him sooner about making arrangements. Are the two of you friends?”
“Good day, Miss Meadows. I’m here to plan a funeral. Nothing more.” Hubert pushed through the swinging doors and left me standing like a wayward child outside.
Another wasted day of questioning. I glanced at my watch. Aunt Eunice would be furious. I’d been gone longer than planned.
“I’m sorry,” I said rushing into the store. “I’ll stay late tonight and catch up.”
Aunt Eunice inclined her head toward the counter. “Mail came.”
I paused. My heart pounded harder than a rock-and-roll drummer. I proceeded with leaden steps to the basket where we stashed our incoming mail. Aunt Eunice’s tone told me I wouldn’t like what I’d find.
Sticking higher than the other envelopes rose a navy blue one with my name and address in letters cut from a magazine. Like a revelation, I knew where I’d seen enough magazines for someone to have a seemingly unending supply.
“Call Joe. Ask him to come over at once. Tell him I think I know who the killer is.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“Not a wise idea.” A synthesized sound came from the direction of the door. Aunt Eunice gasped and wrapped her fingers around a wooden spoon. To use as a weapon? I glanced around for something of my own.
The wraith from Saturday night floated into the candy store and turned the dead bolt on the door. He seemed to glide. His feet were hidden beneath drapes of fabric. A black-gloved hand pointed a gun in our direction. “Touch the phone, utter another word, even look at each other, and I’ll use this. I prefer a weapon less noisy, but a gun works in a pinch. Miss Meadows, come with me, if you please.”
Thankfully, I stood partially hidden behind a waist-high wall where I could scribble my suspect’s name on a slip of paper before stepping out. I opened my mouth to say something but clamped it shut at another wave from the gun. This time in Aunt Eunice’s direction.
“Leave my aunt here. She isn’t involved in this.” Please, God, don’t let him shoot her.
“If you don’t tell her your suspicions, she’ll stay uninvolved. I have no desire to harm such a virtuous woman as your aunt.”
My gaze fell on a pan of melted chocolate. Quick as I could, I grabbed the pan and flung the contents where the wraith’s face should’ve been.
He actually had the gall to laugh at me. “I’m wearing a mask, supersleuth. Anything else you want to throw?” He shook his head, sending drops of melted goodness to the floor. “Let’s go.”
With another wave of his weapon, he ushered me out the back door and into the trunk of a dark-colored sedan. “Wait.” I held up my hand. Maybe if I stalled him long enough, someone would see us. It isn’t every day someone draped in black walks down the street. “How’d you get into the store without being seen?”
“Elementary, my dear Watson. We’ll talk later.” He slammed the trunk closed.
&
nbsp; Idiot. He didn’t even tie my hands or gag me. I kicked against the metal above me and screamed as loud as I could. Wait. Did his trunk have an inside release? I felt the area around me.
Sunlight blinded me when he opened the trunk. “Almost forgot. Thank you for reminding me.” He clunked me in the head with the butt of his pistol. My last thought before the lights went out was that I’d correctly identified Mae Belle’s murderer.
I woke in a dark place that smelled of wet earth. My head ached, my stomach roiled, I was cold, and I needed to use the restroom. “Great. Wonderful. Once again, I’m thrust down a hole.”
“Who’s there? Is that Summer Meadows?”
“Sherry?” I crawled toward the voice. “Where are we?”
“I think it’s a root cellar. Wherever we are, the place has dirt walls.”
Without being invited, I sat close enough to her for our shoulders to touch. She might not be one of my closest friends, but she was company in a very dark, scary place. And I had no qualms about sharing her body warmth. Even if it became apparent she really did hunt bats. I still wanted to know what kind of tools she kept in her bag. “But where are we?”
“Somewhere on Larry’s farm, I think. I’m not sure. He bonked me in the head, and I woke up here.”
“Sounds familiar. You’re Lola, aren’t you?” I felt her turn toward me. “Yes.”
“I figured that out and that Larry is the one murdering people, but what I can’t get is why.” I scoffed. “Actually, there’s a lot of why. Why the computer scam? Why is Larry killing people? I call him the Conscience of Mountain Shadows. Why is he picking on me?”
“I can answer some of your questions. The others you’ll have to ask him when he comes for his visit. The man’s completely nuts.” She shifted. “The scam is exactly that. A way to get money. Mae Belle didn’t pay enough to get me out of my Internet gambling debts, so I sold love over the Internet.”
Chocolate-Covered Crime Page 18
