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A Composition in Murder (A Cherry Tucker Mystery Book 6)

Page 8

by Larissa Reinhart


  Sprawled on the bed next to Coralee, Wally studied me. “It’s okay, babe.”

  “It’s not okay. Mother told me to—” Coralee’s eyes narrowed. “I want to know what you and Mother were talking about yesterday.”

  “Not now,” I said. “Where did Mr. Newson go?”

  “He’s in the bathroom,” said Pris.

  “Dammit.” I amended my curse with an apology and sped to the bathroom.

  The bathroom door had been taken off its hinges and leaned inside the doorway. Behind the door, Ron stood in front of the sink, staring at something in his hand. The medicine cabinet stood open.

  “Did you open that?” I said, pointing to the cabinet. “What do you have? Did you find it in here?”

  He placed a bottle in the cabinet and turned to face me. “What’s it to you?”

  “Sir, please don’t touch anything. If you took something, put it back exactly where you found it. The police will—”

  “You still haven’t explained why the police want to check the apartment of a ninety-year-old woman who’s had a heart attack. Do they not have anything better to do? Because they still haven’t found the asshole who hit my wife.”

  “I am real sorry, sir, but due to the circumstances of your wife’s death, the police want to examine—” I was reaching and he knew it.

  Ron took three steps forward and shoved a finger into my chest. “You’re lying and I’ll have you fired. You’ve got no authority over me and you sure as hell know it. I’m not doing a damn thing you say. If the police have a problem with that, they can throw my ass out.”

  “Point taken,” said a cool voice behind me. “And if you don’t remove your hand from that woman, I will do exactly that.”

  Eleven

  I spun around and Ron’s finger flew from my chest.

  Luke stood next to the bathroom door, his hands resting on his hips. Behind his shoulder, Miss Krenzer craned her neck. Luke didn’t glance at me, but Krenzer raised her eyebrows, giving the definitive “what do you think you’re doing” look.

  “Deputy Harper,” I said. “This is Ron Newson. Miss Belvia’s son-in-law.”

  “We’re acquainted.”

  Ron folded his arms and resumed his hostile staring, but now toward Luke instead of me.

  “Okay then.” I slipped around Luke to stand next to Krenzer.

  She grabbed my arm and backed us into the hallway. “What’s going on? Why did you call the police?”

  I attempted a “let’s not talk while we’re surrounded by the crazed family of a possible murder victim” look.

  Her eyebrows drew inward and she opened her mouth to speak.

  “I’ll explain later,” I whispered.

  Ron Newson shoved past Luke. “What do the police have to do with my mother-in-law? She had a heart attack. Hell, I have people downstairs waiting to express their sympathy on the death of my wife. Why don’t you catch the drunk who hit her instead of bothering us?”

  “Pigs,” shouted Wally, walking from the bedroom. “F. U. We know our rights.”

  “Dad.” Pris’s face reddened. She grabbed his arm, pulling him into the hall. “Come on.”

  With all the hostility and bodies, the hall felt tighter than an old pickle barrel. Closed-lipped and unmoving, Luke eyed everyone from his bathroom sentry. I took a cue from him to keep my mouth shut.

  “I’m sorry about Mrs. Brakeman.” Krenzer pasted on a face that put my best customer service smile to shame. “Why don’t we get a cup of coffee in my office? I’m sure Deputy Harper will only be a minute. Everyone’s understandably upset. People here for the viewing and now this? Such a shock. Let’s go downstairs.”

  “I need a scotch, not a coffee,” said Ron.

  She patted his shoulder and gently pushed him toward the door. “That can be arranged.”

  Pris pulled on her father’s sleeve, then took her mother’s hand. “Come on. There’s nothing you can do for Grandmother now. Go with Uncle Ron. I’ll speak to the funeral staff if you’d like.”

  “Goddammit.” Ron glanced over his shoulder at Pris. “Don’t talk to any of the Meemaw’s people. They can’t know what’s happened yet. This’ll kick up a mile-wide shit storm.”

  Pris nodded. “Of course. I’ll tell the funeral director we’ve been delayed and we’ll make an announcement in a short while.”

  Krenzer waited for the four to move out the front door, then shot a look at me. “We’re having a chat later,” she whispered. “I need to get all these people out of my building first.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” My fingers twitched my dress. “How’s it looking down there with the viewing?”

  “Bedlam. I shouldn’t have agreed to have the visitation here. I knew it would be packed.” She shook her head. “Of all the days for poor Belvia to pass, but that’s how it goes, you know?”

  I didn’t think that’s how it went, at least in Belvia’s case. But I kept my mouth shut.

  After the front door shut, I turned to Luke. “Sorry I couldn’t get them out. Ron had taken something from the medicine cabinet. Did you see it?”

  “Didn’t see anything but his finger aimed at your chest,” he growled.

  We reentered the bathroom. Luke strode to the medicine cabinet and pulled a notebook from his pocket.

  “I don’t know if the cabinet door was open earlier,” I said. “Belvia was blocking the door so I couldn’t get in here. Once they got the door off the hinges, the staff took over the area. I didn’t see a thing. Could have been opened by Belvia, the staff, or Ron Newson.”

  “It sounds like she had a heart attack,” said Luke. “She probably opened it, looking for medicine, and then collapsed. Why are you worried about tampering?”

  “With Della’s death, Belvia was facing a lot of company problems. Problems I don’t understand, but she made it sound like buzzards circling for a kill. There’s also a huge inheritance at stake. Just seemed curious that Belvia’d have a heart attack in the wake of all that’s going on.”

  “She’s elderly, Cherry. And like you said, under a lot of stress. It could have brought on the heart attack.”

  Guilt stabbed me. I’d barely started the job and she’d already died on my watch. “What about the safe?” I blurted. “Because of her eyesight, Belvia puts everything away carefully.”

  “If she took ill in her office, she could have left the safe open, hon.” Luke took a deep breath. “But let’s check this place out. I’ll do a walk-through with my camera, then ask the sheriff if he wants me to take evidence.”

  “Thank you. Our relationship was cut short, but I felt like Belvia understood me in a way other people don’t.” Whether I wanted to take the job or not, she’d asked for my help because she trusted my creative thinking and skeptical nature.

  “I know not everyone gets you. I’m glad she did. I’m sorry she died, sugar.” Luke gathered me into his arms, then kissed the top of my head. “Put your mind to rest now.”

  But I couldn’t put my mind to rest. Not when Belvia’s death lay on my conscience. I realized I’d already ditched my earlier misgivings. Belvia knew someone had murdered Della. Possibly herself too. And Belvia believed I could figure this out.

  The sheriff’s office was limited by the law in their hunt. If correct in her hunch that the perp’s wealth and power would stymie the investigation, Belvia did need someone free of red tape to sniff around Meemaw’s Tea suspects. I planned to extend my hunt to the family too.

  I’d complete my assignment for Belvia by finding Della’s killer, even knowing there’d be no payoff. I’d failed Cody and failed Belvia, but I knew she’d still be counting on me to get her justice. Even from beyond the grave.

  I waited in the living room while Luke stalked through the apartment, shooting the various rooms from different angles with his digi
tal camera.

  Returning from the bathroom, he slipped the camera into his deputy bag, rested his hands on his hips, and studied me without seeing.

  I knew that thoughtful gaze. “What did you find?”

  “There wasn’t anything missing from the medicine cabinet. That was easy. Everything marked off and labeled. Don’t know why the door was open, but she could have been reaching to take something when she fell. No heart medicine in there. General pain medication. Lidocaine patches, that sort of thing.”

  “Okay. But you saw something.”

  “Damn.” Luke ran a hand through his curls and yanked on a tuft. The lock remained standing as his hand dropped back to his hip. “There’s one folder in the safe that’s empty. Unmarked.”

  I took one step toward the office before I lost two steps. Glancing at the hand on my elbow, I cocked my head and gave Luke a “what the hey” look.

  “Hands off the office, sugar.”

  “I know.”

  “Then where are you headed?”

  “Hon, I respect your position of authority. But I know that you know that Della wasn’t hit by a drunk driver or someone blinded by the sun. She was murdered. And I’m worried her mother was too, even if it does look like a heart attack.”

  His jaw tightened. “I’m not saying anything about Della Brakeman-Newson’s death. The sheriff doesn’t want anything in the press. This is a high-profile case with persons of interest who will not take the limelight lightly.”

  Dammit, Belvia was right. It only strengthened my conviction to do the right thing by her.

  “In other words,” I smiled to soften my words, “you don’t want anyone to lawyer up before you have solid evidence to bring them in. You’re pretending a drunk driver could have hit Della Brakeman-Newson. Until you have strong evidence to prove otherwise.”

  “Pretending? We haven’t said one word about a drunk driver, that’s a rumor. We haven’t said diddly squat except we’re investigating a hit and run, which is true.” He scowled. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves with Belvia Brakeman. I can take evidence. Check for prints on the safe. But if the coroner says it’s natural causes, it doesn’t matter. Unless other hard evidence comes to light.”

  “Like you arrest whoever ran over Della and they admit to inducing Belvia’s heart attack?” I smiled at his frown. “Deputy Harper, you know there are things I can check into that you can’t. You’ve got your protocol as an officer of the law. I’ve got my protocol as the friend to a victim.”

  “What protocol are you talking about?”

  “Remember Miss Belvia had me witness her will? She was vetting me for a particular task.”

  “What task?”

  I didn’t think he’d take kindly to “beat the sheriff’s office in their investigation of a homicide.” I took a moment to gather a better turn of phrase.

  “Miss Belvia wanted me to interview certain Meemaw’s Tea personnel who’ve been causing her trouble. Get my take on them. She trusted my instincts for judging people.”

  “She certainly doesn’t need that information now.”

  “I feel I should do it anyway, to pass on to the new leadership. And if anything pertaining to her or Della’s demise comes to light—perhaps the slip of a wagging tongue?—I’ll deliver that information to you.”

  “As long as you don’t get in our way, I won’t stop you. I’ll warn you though. These ‘interviews’ will tick folks off. And I’ve found most of them tick off easy. The higher-ups particularly. Are you getting paid for this?”

  I shook my head. “It was a private deal between me and Miss Belvia. Too bad, because her offer was something that could’ve benefited more than just me. To be honest, originally I was humoring her. I wanted the payoff but didn’t take the task seriously. And I feel horrible about it.”

  He considered me for a moment. The stormy gray in his eyes lightened. “I’m glad you called me, sugar. I was nearby, saw the ambulance, and headed over anyway. But your call meant you thought of me and the law first.”

  His hand traveled from my elbow to squeeze my hand. A dimple deepened one cheek. I stepped toward him and angled my face up.

  A gray-eyed baby with similar dimples popped into my head. Followed by the image of JB and Luke’s mother cooing over the adorable bundle of joy.

  Weird. I pulled my eyes off Luke’s dimple, my fire suddenly cooled.

  “You okay? You don’t look so good all of a sudden.” He grabbed my shoulder to steady me. “Is it the shock of finding Belvia?”

  “I’m fine.” I took a calming breath and blinked away the baby. “What about the safe?”

  “Same deal as the medicine cabinet. I can check each of those envelopes to see if their insides are missing too. They’re labeled. However, if anyone took an envelope or anything else from the safe, I’ll have no way of telling unless the safe has a contents list somewhere. And the empty folder? No idea if that’s anything.”

  We edged into the office. Luke shuffled through the safe’s envelopes and boxes, looking for missing contents. He dropped the empty folder on her desk.

  “I don’t know, Cherry.” Luke ran a hand over his head, sending more curls askew. “My initial feeling is Belvia had just opened the safe when she took sick.”

  “There’s a problem with that assessment.”

  “What’s that?”

  “This looks like the folder Belvia used for her new will. I saw Coralee place the folder in the safe. And we have no idea what was in the will I witnessed because Belvia made sure no one read it. Did you find a will in there?”

  “I did not.” Luke raked another fist through his hair. “Dammit.”

  Twelve

  After a night spent painting away my anxiety, I woke with a completed sweet tea still life and a stronger grip on my resolve. Belvia would expect results, not moping. I had no real plan, other than making my way through her list of company suspects, but hoped I’d be struck by some investigative thunderbolt.

  Or at least my suspicious intuition would kick in and point me toward a more effective method. Meanwhile, I had a class to teach. And students who excelled in hearsay. I was counting on them to help me with my list of family suspects.

  At Halo House, still life drawing did not meet the interests of my students. Most had abandoned their drawing to sit in clusters and chat about Belvia’s sudden departure in the wake of her daughter’s viewing. I gave up on getting them to sketch fruit and settled in with my homies to sort out the shocking events.

  “So sad about Belvia,” said Fred. “Never thought she’d go like that. She was a tough old bird.”

  “Old birds gotta die sometime.” Ada bent over her drawing. Her hand shook as she drew a lemon, then scribbled it out.

  I leaned over Ada to hug her, but she shoved me away. “Get off, Chloe. I don’t need your hugs. It’s not like Battle-axe was inhuman.”

  “No, but you’ve known her most of your life.”

  “And I’ve hated her most of my life.”

  I pursed my lips. Ada’s concentration on sketching lemons hadn’t fooled me. She rarely participated in our art fundamentals class. At least not when it came to drawing. I would leave her be, but I could feel Ada’s pain.

  Hazel tossed her pencil and pushed her paper away. “Enough of this. What was that sheriff’s deputy doing with you yesterday?”

  “Nothing much.” I picked up Hazel’s abandoned pencil and set to shading her lopsided circle into an apple. Luke had sworn me to secrecy. The lightspeed of gossip at Halo House meant I needed to keep my mouth shut about Belvia’s starring role in a suspicious death.

  Unfortunately, keeping my mouth shut was harder than turning lopsided circles into apples.

  “The deputy’s her boyfriend,” said Fred.

  “Not officially. Our families don’t approve, rem
ember?”

  “She doesn’t want his kin fouling her genetic line,” said Ada. “His step-daddy is a Grade-A sumbitch.”

  “But what’s he doing here?” continued Hazel. “The other deputies stayed in the parking lot, directing traffic. I saw that one upstairs with you.”

  “Am I not allowed to bring boys upstairs?” I joked. “Were you spying on us?”

  “More like you were spying on me.” Hazel’s mouth pulled tight. “Stop nosing into my affairs.”

  “Chloe ain’t nosing into your business,” said Ada. “Cool it, Hazel.”

  “You cool it, Ada.” Hazel slid her chair back, eased to standing, and shuffled to the door.

  “Wow,” said Fred. “I’ve never seen Hazel leave in such a huff. She couldn’t get away from you fast enough.”

  “Hazel’s defensive,” I said. “Somethings going on with her. Did y’all notice anything strange about her behavior lately? You think she’s on new meds?”

  “No.” Ada shot the words out quicker than her usual rapid-fire twang. “So why was Deputy Harper in Belvia’s apartment yesterday?”

  I put Ada’s hasty segue into my “check into this later” account and used a segue of my own. “Tell me more about Della’s husband Ron and that side of the family. I’ve not been too impressed with Coralee or her husband, although I will say her daughter, Pris, is nice.”

  Ada took my bait with relish. “Ron hasn’t worked in years. Unless you count ‘managing their finances.’ Della was focused solely on the company, so he plays, if you catch my drift.”

  “I get it.” I examined the bruised banana and moldy apple I had drawn and sketched an inchworm creeping toward the fruit. “Why work when you don’t have to? And why stay loyal to your wife if she doesn’t pay attention?”

  “I wish I were a kept man,” said Fred. “That sounds pretty good.”

 

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