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

by Larissa Reinhart

  “You don’t need to see nothing.” Jordan shoved an elbow against the wall.

  My back hit open air. I glimpsed the wall swing out behind me. Arms shot through the opening. The middle section was nothing but a flap of plywood. Jordan shook off my hand and shoved me against the hole. Behind me, hands came up and over my shoulders, pinning my arms above my head. I squirmed and kicked. Another set of arms reached inside to hold my torso. I opened my mouth to scream and Jordan slapped a rank-smelling hand across my mouth.

  He leaned in and fixed his other hand on my throat. His rotted smile stunk worse than his hand.

  The kid was on meth.

  I was in trouble.

  Two more guys entered the crib, followed by Palmetto. Jordan firmed his hand against my mouth and cranked his head to watch Palmetto over his shoulder.

  Freed from his foul breath, I took a quick inhale of hand stench.

  “You still here asking questions?” Palmetto slunk across the narrow space and pulled something from his pocket. “Not so smart, are you?”

  I couldn’t see around Jordan. But whatever Palmetto had in his hand probably wasn’t helpful to my plight.

  Noticing my struggle to see, Palmetto raised his hand and flicked open a knife. My eyes must have widened because he laughed.

  “If you ever ask about Parker and the Halo House bitches again, I’m cutting you. Not just you, but I’ll get those women too. There’s more where they came from.”

  I struggled but the arms behind me held tight to my torso and shoulders. Without thinking, I jerked a leg up. Palmetto retreated before my knee connected with his crotch.

  “You’re messing with my bankroll, woman. And you’re messing with my boy, Parker. Should have done more than just shove you in the bushes that night.”

  To my relief, he shoved the knife into his pocket and continued backing away. Before darting out the door, he tossed Jordan a hard look.

  “Gank her. Make her bleed.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Fear never caused me to freeze. It worked as a catalyst. Adrenaline pumped to race through my system and enhance all my senses. My brain fired neurons like a submachine gun. All my thoughts honed toward survival. I wasn’t powerful, but I reacted quickly. Plus Uncle Will had forced self-defense lessons on us. I’d probably make a great soldier. If I could stand taking orders and wearing those drab uniforms.

  Which I could not.

  My eyes narrowed on Jordan. I pitied this waste of youth. He was going to fail in his mission to cut me because I would not let Palmetto and that poor little rich boy, Parker Brakeman-Newson, hurt the women of Halo House. It riled me to extremes they would utter that threat. I did not yet know why they held such antipathy toward the elderly, but I would find out and stop them.

  As soon as I stopped stinky Jordan and his cohorts from ganking me.

  Taking a deep breath of Jordan hand stank, I bit down. Hard enough to draw blood.

  I prayed I wouldn’t get rabies. Or something worse.

  Jordan yowled and jerked his hand away. His other hand slid from my throat to hold the bite. Surprised, the bodies behind me shifted. Their clutch loosened. I jumped, pulled my knees up, and caught my feet on the lip of the opening. Shoving my weight backward, I heaved through the window. My butt crashed into a body. He toppled back, slamming into his friend. We tumbled like dominos. Jordan lunged to catch me and fell half out the window.

  I stared at Jordan dangling above me and shoved both elbows into the soft tissue below. Someone grunted and my ground moved. Screaming for Todd, I kicked and elbowed my way to semi-standing. Kicked again and fled.

  Bedlam had broken in the lane. Kids ran helter-skelter. Blankets billowed behind them. Bottles and cans rolled, clanking against their boots.

  No wonder no one had paid attention to my attack.

  “Todd,” I called. “Where are you?”

  I ran toward his Civic. Whirling around in the lane, I searched for him while keeping my eye out for Palmetto and friends. Motors roared. I sidestepped a Blazer backing around me. Across the road, an F-150 slammed into a wire fence. The wire caught against its grill and the truck’s tires spun. Rebar posts groaned and bent, pulling from the hard-packed earth. Freed from its wire holster, a picket sailed through the air.

  “Idiot,” I screamed and hollered at the nearby teens to move from the flying fence.

  The F-150 shot forward, pulling the fence with it and churned the field beneath its tires.

  A hand grabbed my elbow.

  “You’re not ganking me.” I shot my arm out and pivoted, angling my freed elbow toward my attacker’s neck.

  “Cherry.” Todd’s hand flew to protect his face.

  I dropped my elbow and lunged at Todd. Leaping high, I grabbed him by the shoulders in a quick hug. “I’m glad to see you. Palmetto tried to have me knifed.”

  He gave a weak laugh, but his eyebrows creased. “That wasn’t very smart of him, was it?”

  I pulled on Todd’s coat. “Come on. We’ve got to get out of here. This sort of retreat means one thing.”

  “I told everyone at the bonfire I called the police. Then I called the police.”

  “Thought so.”

  In the distance, sirens wailed.

  In the Civic, Todd threw an arm over the back of my seat, checking for wayward drunk kids as he reversed into the lane.

  “Head toward the corn crib,” I said. “If you keep following that path, you’ll get to the farmhouse. We’re better off leaving that way because the deputies will block the county highway to trap these kids.”

  “You don’t want the police to know you were here?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to waste time talking to the deputies. I need to question Hazel and Rosie and find out what the hell is going on.”

  “Who’s Rosie?”

  “A Halo House resident and bartender at the Last Call. I’m worried, Todd.” I’d told him about my weird phone call. “It had to have been Parker who made that call. He threatened Ada and now they’re threatening Rosie and Hazel. I don’t get it though. If it were Eleanor in the Last Call, I’d understand, except she grows her own. But Rosie and Hazel? They’re not potheads.”

  Ignoring the ramble, Todd directed a question to the heart of the matter, as only Todd could do. “Could these women be dealers?”

  “In Halo House? Who’d buy their product? Everyone is on some kind of drug, but it’s all prescriptions.” I shook my head. “I don’t see it. Rosie warned me Halo House wasn’t full of angels, but drugs and murder? It’s not like Halo House is the projects. It’s a luxury independent living facility.”

  “You think the Brakeman family are drug dealers? Smuggle stuff in their sweet tea shipments? Killed by a rival dealer?”

  “Todd, this isn’t Columbia. Two middle-aged sisters and their elderly mother died. Businesswomen, but still.”

  “They could smuggle it with the sweet tea. Who would look in sweet tea?”

  “Smuggle what? Corn syrup?”

  Our tiff was interrupted by a siren. Blue lights flashed in the distance.

  “Dammit,” I said. “Get me out of here. I can’t get caught at the corn crib. Uncle Will will tan my hide.”

  Todd turned off his lights, cranked the wheel, and we bumped up the rutted lane toward the farm house. I turned in my seat to watch for blueberries. Two Forks County sheriff vehicles turned onto the lane. Todd stopped before the farm entrance. I leaped from the car and ran to unlatch the gate. The Civic crept through, I hopped in, and Todd rolled into the drive. He parked in the farm driveway behind a Lariat big enough to hide his hatchback. Luckily, in order to be left alone at the corn crib, the kids knew well enough to stay away from the farm.

  I hoped the deputies hadn’t seen our illegal entering.

 
“Cherry,” said Todd. “I’m worried about this Palmetto guy. Having you knifed is serious. We should go back and tell the officers what happened.”

  “Here’s the thing. If we’re busting Parker, we need to get him on more than hearsay. Parker wasn’t here tonight. His daddy told me Parker’s got an expensive attorney on call. I’ve a feeling that lawyer is Harry Hunt. In that case, Harry might also be covering his own ass for a big payout. I need Palmetto to get to Parker. But I need to find out what they’re doing at Halo House first.”

  “What if Hazel and Rosie are doing something illegal?”

  “I don’t think they murdered the Brakemen women if that’s what you mean. They’re too nice.”

  “Murderers are never nice?”

  I ignored Todd’s obvious confusion about sweet old ladies versus lady killers. “I do think Hazel and Rosie are in trouble. But if they knew Parker was a dangerous criminal not worth protecting, I’m sure they’d understand and turn him in. That’d be evidence. Not hearsay.”

  “I don’t know about this, Cherry. I think you’re deluding yourself about these women.”

  “Todd, we’re talking about grandmothers.”

  “You’ve met my grandma. She’s sweet, but she also ran a bust-out joint in her kitchen.”

  “That’s different. I love Mimi McIntosh.” I thought about her homey kitchen where she served illegal poker with homemade hooch and cookies. “I guess she might have had something to do with you becoming a gambling addict though.”

  “My point being, Cherry, just because Hazel and Rosie are old doesn’t mean they’re turning in this Parker. They could be up to their sweet little noses in drugs and murder.”

  “Hell, Todd, you’d think we were talking about Lizzie Borden and Bonnie Parker, not two retirees who love hot yoga and disco dancing.”

  “Even criminals have to retire. And from what I’ve heard, you need a criminal’s paycheck to live at Halo House.”

  “I guess you have a point. Let’s hope they want to bust Parker and Palmetto as much as I do. If they don’t, I fear those boys are going after my girls.”

  After checking in at the front desk, we headed to the Last Call to look for Rosie. I knew Hazel wouldn’t answer my ring. The adjoining restaurant was already closed, but the bar was hopping. Eleanor sat at her usual corner table, eating nachos. Two-Dollar Frank grabbed his next partner for a Sinatra stroll.

  An elderly female bartender manned the bar, but she wasn’t Rosie. Pins covered her crocheted vest. The largest read, “When You’re Out of Schlitz, You’re Out of Beer.”

  At least I was dealing with a professional. “We’re looking for Rosie. She’s not working tonight?”

  Schlitz shook her head while she agitated a martini shaker. “I can call her apartment if you want.”

  “Please.” I pushed a dollar toward her. “For your trouble.”

  She winked, snatched the dollar, and shoved it into her Playtex.

  “I don’t know what you see in this place,” said Todd. “It gives me the creeps.”

  “Stop being ageist.” I sighed. “But in light of what just happened, I guess I know what you mean. The Halo House vices used to seem harmless and cute.”

  “I guess a narcotics drug ring can never seem cute.”

  “We don’t know it’s a drug ring for sure.” I thought about Palmetto and his nasty friends. “Yet.”

  The bartender returned. “Rosie asked if she could meet you in the activity room.”

  We thanked her and left the bar. Walking towards the foyer, I studied the residents I passed, looking for clues of a drug ring, but my brain would only register sweet grandparent-y types. I still couldn’t believe Hazel would involve herself with thugs like Parker and Palmetto.

  At the activity room, I rattled the locked knob. “Why’d Rosie want to meet me here? Why not her apartment?”

  “Psst.”

  I whirled around.

  A shrunken man dressed in various shades of brown and green stepped from behind the fountain. If we’d landed in a Tolkien novel, he might have been a hobbit. He motioned with his hand.

  I looked at Todd and he shrugged. We scooted toward the fountain and followed the tiny man to the hall off the bar. The same corridor where I had found Parker stealing from Hazel and had received my disturbing phone call. I shivered.

  The little man stopped near the men’s restroom. “You looking for Rosie?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Library. Sit in the leather chairs by the fireplace.” He touched the side of his nose and slipped into the bathroom.

  “I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone,” said Todd. “This has been the most bizarre night ever.”

  “The Sting II must be on Netflix again.” I shook my head. “I don’t like it. All this subterfuge means they’re up to something.”

  “Who?”

  “My students. They’ve aced shenanigans and are now majoring in criminal capers.”

  The crazy-haired librarian manned the library door once again. When we attempted to go around her, she rammed her card table into our knees and shook her date stamper at us.

  “Ma’am, I’m meeting somebody,” I said. “By the fireplace.”

  “You can’t take a book without a card.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I know.”

  “Your books are due in two weeks. Return them late and there will be a nickel fine.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  We edged around her table and scooted toward the leather chairs facing the fireplace.

  “Nothing scarier than a retired librarian,” said Todd.

  “You should meet the retired teachers. That’d be Rosie and Hazel.” I glanced around the room. “Speaking of, I don’t see Rosie.”

  “This place is making me jumpy. Where are your friends?”

  “Ada and Fred? Probably asleep.”

  My adrenaline rush from the corn crib and Halo House antics had fizzled. Weariness dropped its heavy mantle around my shoulders. The aches and bruises from falling out of a plywood window—even a low window with the cushioning of two young thugs to break my tumble—had taken their toll. A person named Palmetto had demanded my evisceration. These women were dealing with sadistic goons.

  I rubbed my hip. The generously padded leather chairs beckoned. The comforting scent of pine and Bengay mingled with the sounds of the crackling fire. It was hard to believe a drug ring could occur in such a snuggly atmosphere.

  I fought the urge to rest before the fire. The chairs looked like heaven and a nap sounded all too fine. “I don’t see Rosie.” Surliness crept into my tone. “This is ridiculous. I’m going to her apartment.”

  “Stay where you are.” A stage whisper rasped from behind the closest bookcase.

  I walked behind the bookcase. “Ada, what’s going on?”

  “Rosie wants to give you the slip. She didn’t know you were trying to bust Hazel by asking about Parker.”

  I willed my blood pressure to drop. Didn’t work. “Where’s Rosie now?”

  “She and Hazel are on the road.” Ada smirked. “Like Thelma and Louise.”

  “You know Thelma and Louise died in the end, right? Drove their car off a cliff?”

  “Okay, maybe not like Thelma and Louise. But they’re laying low until you chill out.”

  “Ada, I’m not trying to get them in trouble. I want to help them. Parker’s no good. The women in his family are getting killed off, for heaven’s sake.”

  She pursed her lips and removed her small fists from her bony hips. “I know it. I told them to cheese it, but they don’t want to listen. They’re in too deep.”

  “In too deep of what?”

  Todd appeared behind the couch. “Is this Rosie?”

  “It’s Ada. Rosie flew the coop. Wit
h Hazel.”

  Ada shuffled sideways and I grabbed her sleeve. “Where do you think you’re going? You’re telling me what Hazel and Rosie are doing with Parker.”

  She gave me a long look, then opened her mouth and screamed.

  Twenty-Eight

  I would like to say this was my first time in the can, but it wasn’t. There was that scared straight lesson after I’d been caught drinking on Merriweather Lane with half of the junior class. Of course, I was the only one in the junior class who spent the night in the drunk tank. Then there was that night I’d spent in Line Creek Police Department’s holding cell. That was for obstruction, but the charges were dropped.

  This was the first time I’d been charged with something by a private citizen. As the accused who had done nothing wrong, it ticked me off. Royally.

  At least Todd was allowed in my interview room to give witness testimony. Testimony he’d given to Deputy Luke Harper, who was on call. Unfortunately. And testimony more helpful for the one bringing charges against me. Unfortunately.

  Unfortunate just might be my middle name.

  They had called Luke from a bust of young people partaking in illegal activities on a private property near a certain corn crib off a well-known county road.

  I kept my mouth shut. If you thought my suspicion meter ran high, you’d never met Deputy Heartbreak.

  “You have to get me out of here, Luke.” My voice sounded sharp. I wasn’t ready for begging. My anger was too real.

  He grinned. “I asked if I could get a copy of your mugshot. For my wallet.”

  “Very funny. There was no mugshot.”

  I folded my arms over my pea-green pea coat.

  “Harassing sweet little old ladies.” Luke shook his head. “You’re gonna lose your job, sugar.”