DEAD AS a DOORNAIL

by Tonya Kappes

  “You’re probably right. He knew the smell and when his keen nose picked it up, he dug it up.” I gave Duke a good rub along the head and neck. “Good boy. Good boy.”

  There were just some things Duke did that I couldn’t explain and this was one of them.

  “Yep, I got you one fine dog.” Poppa proudly rocked back and forth on his heels.

  “All I can do is let the autopsy speak for itself.” Max headed on inside to take a look at what he had to deal with.

  It was unusual to have to take two bodies at once to the morgue, but luckily his hearse could fit two church carts side by side.

  While we let Max do his thing, Finn and I stood outside and pondered on what had just happened.

  “This really doesn’t make sense,” I said to Finn. “I went to the gun show and talked to Alma.”

  “And?”

  “Alma was there setting up for the show. I talked to her about Lucy Ellen and she believed Darnell was in jail for killing Lucy Ellen and she even acted as though they weren’t friends. When I went back to the Lowells’ I found photos of the couples on vacations and having dinners, and not just local.” I pulled the photos out of my pocket. “I also went to see Darnell. He said that they’d always done things together, but Alma got jealous of Lucy. Or was it the other way around?” I thought for a second. “Maybe both were jealous of each other. Anyway, Darnell said that Lucy Ellen wanted to get Botox and all sorts of stuff done to compete with Alma.”

  “If you ask me, no amount of work was going to help Alma.” Poppa was never one to shy away from the truth about anyone’s appearance. “This morning she looked tired.” He started flapping his hands. “I don’t know much about women’s nail polish, but I remember your mama flailing her hands around after she painted them when she was a kid. She claimed it took so long for them to dry.” Poppa was good. He might not have realized he was onto something.

  “And her nails.” I smacked my hands together. “Alma’s nails weren’t painted this morning and she came home to paint them when it takes at least twenty minutes to be good and dry. But she was supposed to be at the gun show all day. She told me she would be. Plus Tina said that Alma didn’t get the same nail polish because she didn’t like Perfectly Posh. Alma only wanted the same treatments. So why would she paint her own nails Perfectly Posh when she didn’t like the color?”

  I opened and held the door for Max as he wheeled the first body out in a gray body bag.

  “Maybe she found out about the affair and wanted to have her nails painted like Lucy Ellen when Bosco came home.” Finn’s eyes focused on the body bag. He grabbed the end and helped Max down the steps.

  “Hmm. If the prints come back and Bosco isn’t the killer, it looks like someone from the Hunt Club wants to silence anyone and everyone.” Poppa sucked in a deep breath. As he exhaled, the air came out in long stream of fog. “Kenni, have you ever been to the huntin’ cabins the Hunt Club uses?”

  “No, but I think there’s no better time to check it out,” I muttered under my breath.

  After Max cleared the bodies, it was time for Finn and me to get down to the nitty gritty and really look around.

  “Are we still going out to the woods tonight?” Finn asked.

  “Before I close this case by naming Bosco the murderer, I just want to check out the cabins and interview a few of the men that were there that night to see if Bosco said anything to anyone, or at least find out how he acted.” It was going to be very interesting to see Finn in that environment.

  “What time did you want to go?” he asked.

  “Mama’s big bridal supper is tonight.” It reminded me that one week from tonight, I was going to have to give my first of two toasts. The first being the rehearsal dinner, the second was the wedding the very next day. “I’ll make an appearance and then we’ll go.”

  “Appearance?” He laughed and shook his head. “Your mama is really going to hate me.”

  “Nah.” I winked.

  One of the reserve officers took the computer back to the office so Betty could set it up. It was in those types of things Betty was worth her weight in gold. Since she loved to snoop and be nosy, combing through a computer was her thing. I think she really took pride in knowing the technology, which was sort of surprising since she was much older than the average techie. I wasn’t techy, and since we kept it in house, if something did get out, I knew the source. Betty knew that too, which kept her from gossiping.

  One thing I did know now was that I needed to stop by Camille Shively’s office.

  The waiting room was typical. The walls were painted gray, and the carpet was gray with small white diamond shapes scattered about, and chairs lined the walls. There was a television hanging on the wall that played one of those twenty-four-hour news stations and a rack filled with all sorts of magazines was underneath that.

  “Kenni, come on back.” Camille stuck her head out the receptionist window and pointed to a door.

  When I opened it, she was on the other side waiting for me. I followed her down a couple of halls until we made it to her office.

  “What’s up?” she asked. “Are you here about that whole happy fat thing? Because you don’t have anything to worry about. Honestly. I had to talk your mom off the ledge about you dying from diabetes or heart disease.”

  “No. I’m here to ask you a few more questions about Lucy.” I bit back anything snide I wanted to say about Mama. I knew her heart was in the right place, but once she got a topic in her head, she beat it like a dead horse.

  “I told you everything the other day at Blanche’s house.” She walked around her desk and sat in the chair.

  I remained standing and walked around as I talked.

  “We have a confession.” I looked at her fancy degrees framed on the wall.

  “That’s wonderful.” Her voice rose. “Polly will be so relieved and happy that you can take the next week to really focus on her wedding and your big toast.”

  The big toast made me cringe.

  “I need to tidy up a few loose ends.” I turned around and noticed a picture of Camille all pretty on her graduation day. A big smile on her face. No wrinkles. Nothing. Perfect.

  “Who killed Lucy?” There was concern in her voice.

  “Bosco Frederick.” I looked at Camille. Her brows formed a V. “Apparently, Lucy Ellen and Alma were jealous of each other. Long story short, Lucy Ellen was on a mission to look younger. She’d been taking some pills. Darnell thought they were for her blood pressure. Do you happen to know what those pills were?”

  Camille pushed her chair back from her desk and eased her head back and looked up at the ceiling.

  “Oh my God. Why didn’t I think of that?” she asked herself. “Kenni, remember you asked me about the blood pressure?”

  “Yes.” I took a seat in a chair.

  “Well, she told me she was seeing stars and getting light-headed. I asked her if she’d been eating enough because she’d lost some weight. She assured me she was. There was no reason to not believe her. She’d always been a good patient. I got her initial blood test back. Nothing of huge concern, but I called to let her know we’d keep an eye on it. I don’t think I got the long blood test results back yet.” She clicked on her computer for a couple of minutes. “I think she might’ve been taking weight-loss pills.” She picked up the phone. “Suzie, can you bring me Lucy Ellen Lowell’s file please?”

  “What did you find on your computer?”

  “I logged into our system. Her blood results came back last night and I’ve yet to check my emails today. She tested positive for amphetamine. It’s in diet pills.” She eased back in her chair. “I told her not to take them. I wonder who she was getting them from.”

  “Darnell said she was thinking about Botox too.” I took out my notebook and began writing down what Camille was telling me.

  “What does
all this have to do with her death?” Camille asked.

  Her office door opened and Suzie, her nurse, walked over and handed Camille the file.

  “I have to make complete reports and fill in all the holes.” That was true, but Poppa was still lingering and I knew I had to figure out real fast who this killer really was.

  “Here I made a note that she asked about wrinkle creams and Botox. We talked about the cost and she said something about Darnell not wanting her to spend money on those things because they were about to retire.” She shut the file. “That was about all. But the diet pills she asked for are expensive, so if she was on them, which I believe she was, she was paying a pretty penny.”

  “Expensive.” Poppa waltzed in out of thin air.

  I looked at my watch. I still had time to make it to the bank. There was someone there I needed to see.

  “Thanks for your time.” I stood up. “I’ll see you in a week at the wedding.”

  “I can’t wait to see that dress on you.” She scrunched up her pretty little nose.

  “What are you thinking?” Poppa asked when we got back into the Jeep and headed to the bank.

  “Hi, Kenni.” Vernon Bishop came out of his fancy bank president office and greeted me. “What are you doing here?” He looked around like there was some trouble.

  “Just here on a little business having to do with my investigation concerning Lucy Ellen Lowell.” I nodded toward his office. “Can you talk in your office?”

  He readily agreed. “I’m not sure how I can help, but I’ll try.”

  He wore a nice three-piece pinstriped suit. His grey hair was neatly combed to the side. He wore the perfect amount of gel in his hair as well as cologne. He was much younger than he looked. He was about fifteen years older than me. His wife, Lynn, was a nice woman. She stayed home and cared for their three children who were scattered in ages.

  They had a modest house in a typical neighborhood, but always looked well put together.

  “Your mama has already got us working on the Christmas benefit.” He smiled and offered me a seat and a sucker. I took both.

  “I’m sure she does.” I snapped the plastic wrapper off the sucker.

  “I also heard you won’t be here for the Christmas festivities.” I nearly choked on the sucker. “I’m sorry. Did I misunderstand your mama?”

  “You’re right. I plan on going to visit Officer Vincent’s family in Chicago, but I sure wish Mama would stop telling people.” I bit the sucker off the stick. I was never able to really lick them down to the nub.

  “We sure will miss your light-up Christmas sweater.” He laughed.

  If he only knew that Mama made me wear that darned thing every year to the Christmas tree lighting and the fights we’d have about it.

  “Thank you. But I’m short on time.” I tapped my watch. “Bosco Frederick has—”

  “Died,” he finished my sentence. “Small town.”

  “Yes. News does travel fast around here. Anyway, I wanted to see if you can tell me a little bit about Bosco’s account.”

  “You know we freeze the account since we are a small bank and a small community.” Vernon explained to me how most big banks didn’t put holds on accounts, but since Cottonwood was a small town and somehow dishonest people trolled the obituaries, Cottonwood First National put holds on accounts until estates were settled.

  “That’s all fine and good, but I need to specifically know if there was any sort of payment made to Art Baskin or Danny Shane.”

  He hesitated.

  “You and I both know that I can get a warrant if necessary, but why don’t we save the tax-payers money and just answer my question,” I said, laying out the fact. Sometimes I found it was better to be upfront instead of beating around the bush.

  “Bosco never came in, but I know about it because Darnell Lowell came in. He wanted to look at his 401(k). He mumbled something about not being able to retire and owing money to someone, but he was so antsy, I couldn’t understand a word he mouthed.” He clicked around on his computer. “He came in earlier asking about how much he had in his savings because of funeral costs for Lucy. He’s sad. Very sad.” Vernon’s eyes grazed the top of his computer and he stared at me. “He seemed surprised when I told him that Lucy Ellen had cleared out that account a few weeks ago.”

  “She did?” I remembered the wad of cash she had in her hand at Tiny Tina’s. “Did she say why she was withdrawing it?”

  “She said that she was getting some work done.” He shrugged.

  “Like Botox? Diet pills? Did she mention any of that?”

  “Diet pills?” He looked at me like every other man when I mentioned it. “I assumed she meant home remodel or something.”

  “No.” I shook my head as I realized that poor Lucy Ellen was fighting so many inner demons.

  “What does all this have to do with her death?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure.” I tapped the edge of his desk with my fingers. “Thank you for your time. I’ve got to run.”

  “See you at the big wedding!” he yelled after me. “I hear you’re in it.”

  I nodded and waved. Mama. She sure didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut.

  Even though I knew I should go home and get ready for not only Mama’s shindig, but also the night at the cabin with Finn as we snooped around, but I had to go to the SPCA to see for myself that someone there wasn’t bent out of shape over Lucy.

  The sun was still out due to daylight savings time and the days were getting longer. It made me feel like I could get more accomplished in the day and since the sun was still up, so was the homestretch of this murder investigation. The trees were just starting to lose their full green leaves that were fed rich limestone soil through their trunks. The famous Kentucky bluegrass was starting to die along the old Military Pike Road that lead all the way out into the country where the shelter sat on fifteen acres of donated land.

  The shelter did a lot of fundraisers and donation drives where they did really well. It didn’t surprise me because the true heart of Cottonwood citizens showed when it came to the animals and in tough times in the community.

  “Hi there,” a young man greeted me when I stepped inside. He stood about five foot eight with a pageboy haircut, bangs dangled down into his eyes. “What can I do for you, Sheriff?”

  He flung his head to the side, sending the bangs along with it and his brown eyes drew to my badge that was pinned on the brown shirt.

  “I wanted to ask some questions about Lucy Ellen Lowell. A volunteer here.” I made sure I continued to watch his face for any sort of discomfort while talking about her. Body language said a lot with words.

  “We sure were sorry to hear about her death.” His lips turned down. The frown reached his eyes. “She knew exactly how to get things we needed.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “If the animals needed something and we didn’t have it in the budget, she’d go out and get someone in the community to donate it or give a hefty dollar donation. She really helped us out.” He let out a long sigh. “I’m afraid I’ll never be able to find anyone like her that I can count on to get things done.”

  “That’s nice to hear about her because I’ve heard some nasty things about her not getting along with people.” I offered a slight smile. “Can you tell me if she had any problems with people here?”

  “Not a one that I know of. She was always so giving of her time. She couldn’t offer much financial assistance, but she did get people to donate. It was her way of being able to give back to the animals.” As he finished talking, a girl walked through the door.

  “Are you talking about Lucy?” She asked and tugged her blonde hair onto a ponytail using the rubber band around her wrist.

  “I am.” I took interest in what her take on Lucy Ellen would be. “Did you know Lucy?”

 
“Oh yeah. Everyone knew her. She was great. We all loved her. She did so much for the shelter that no one else has ever done.”

  “The shelter is about the only place in Cottonwood that she didn’t write a review for.” I pulled one of my business cards out of my front pocket. “If you remember anything or anyone that might’ve wanted to harm her in anyway, please don’t hesitate to call. Anything.” I wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything that was too small to report.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Do you think Lucy Ellen wanted to keep herself looking young because she really loved Bosco and wanted to leave Darnell for him?” Finn asked me.

  I’d put on a one-piece denim jumpsuit with a pair of wedged sandals that Tibbie had dropped off from her Shabby Trends clothing line for me to wear to the big bridal dinner. While I stood in the bathroom in front of the mirror, Finn sat on the edge of the tub talking to me about the case.

  “I don’t know. I just know that Lucy Ellen had been spending all sorts of money when I know Darnell was planning on retiring.” I brushed some lip gloss over my lips and rubbed them together.

  “Do you think Darnell did it?” Finn asked.

  “I’ve gone over and over the possibilities. I still want to talk to the other guys tonight about what they’ve seen or heard.” I ran the brush through my hair one more time. “I can’t explain it. It’s like. . .”

  He interrupted me, “I know. Woman’s intuition. Remember, I’ve got a sister and a mother.” He smiled and moseyed closer up behind me.

  That’s wasn’t why. Poppa was why, but I couldn’t tell him, so I let him just go with the intuition thing.

  “Yep. I can’t explain it.” My eyes and jaw softened looking at him through the mirror. “It seems like an awfully complicated way to kill someone. To go through the motions of figuring out what Lucy Ellen wanted most that day, the nail polish, then researching that cyanide. It just seems like it’s a crime that was very thought out.”