The Murder Motif: An Austin, Texas Art Mystery (the Michelle Hodge Series Book 2)

by Roslyn Woods

  “You’re a little charmer, Bitsy! Okay, just two or three throws of the tennis ball. That’s all!” and she went out with her.

  She threw the ball a few times. Bitsy retrieved it but had a hard time letting Shell have it back. They would play tug of war with it on each return, and Shell got to laughing as she tried to reclaim the ball.

  “Sadie’s going to be awfully jealous if you don’t find a way to share the love,” said Dean, leaning on the fence.

  “Oh, I didn’t know you were there,” said Shell. Quit startling me. She had closed the gate the night before to keep Bitsy from going over into Dean’s back yard. She thought the two dogs might need a day or two to get to know one another. Sadie came running from the porch and proceeded to bark at the smaller dog from behind the fence.

  With the protection of the pickets, Bitsy barked right back and growled at the bigger dog. Shell and Dean couldn’t help but laugh a little.

  “It won’t take them long,” said Dean. “They’ll be friends.”

  “Of course they will,” said Shell.

  “How about us?” he asked. “Are we going to be friends?”

  Shell looked up at him. “We’re already friends,” she said evading the direction of his question. “Did you know your sister’s coming over in a while?” she asked, hoping he would accept the change of subject.

  “This isn’t your painting day, is it?” he asked, looking pretty directly at her outfit.

  “How did you know?” she said, with a little laugh.

  “You need any help?”

  “Oh goodness, no,” said Shell. “Carmen and Margie are both helping me. We’ll wrap up the kitchen in no time.”

  His face remained impassive, but she could feel him drawing back a little. She had just rejected his offer, and it was hard to think she might be hurting him even though she herself had felt his rejection so recently. Don’t make me worry about your feelings, Dean. You sure didn’t worry about mine.

  “You should definitely come over and give us a critique, though,” she added. “We’ll stop and have sandwiches. You should join us.” Sadie jumped up on the fence where Shell was standing. She put her paws on the top board and whined. “Hi, baby,” said Shell, hugging the big dog.

  “Maybe I will, then,” said Dean. “Listen, thanks for checking on the parking situation at Danny’s Place. I, uh, I don’t want to upset you by saying this, but I don’t want you to do anything else that could be dangerous. I’ve told Gonzalez what you learned, and I think he’s taking it up. So thanks, and—uh—I just want you to keep yourself safe.”

  “C’mon Bitsy!” she said. “We’ve got to get ready for Tabitha!” She picked the little dog up and turned back to Dean. “See you in a bit,” she said. I’m not making you any promises about what I will or won’t do. And she headed for the house.

  Carmen arrived at eleven on the dot. She was already dressed in paint clothes, too, and both women laughed when they greeted each other.

  “Hi there! I’m so glad we’re doing this!” said Shell as she ushered Carmen into the room.

  “What color are we painting the kitchen, Miss Shell?” she asked.

  “Yellow. Come see if you think it’s a good shade. If we hate it we’ll just have to jump in the car and go get a different color mixed!”

  “I think I going to like it Miss Shell. You have already made this house look pretty. I bet your color choice is good.”

  “Well, thanks, but the house started out pretty. I love Craftsman bungalows! Yellow, on the other hand, can be a tricky color.”

  “We can try a patch and see,” said Carmen, walking into the kitchen.

  “Let’s do,” said Shell.

  They opened a paint can, and Shell stirred the paint for a couple of minutes. Then she took a brush and painted a rough, twelve inch square on the kitchen wall near the door that opened into the laundry room. There was a considerable contrast between the new color and the white background. She and Carmen stood back and looked at it.

  “It’s very warm color, Miss Shell,” said Carmen.

  “Do you like it? It’s sort of a softened, Naples Yellow. Not too intense?”

  “I love it, Miss Shell!”

  “I think I love it, too.”

  Carmen started taping right away, and Shell filled a paint tray.

  “We need Mr. Dean’s ladder,” said Carmen.

  “Yikes, I forgot about that. Do you think I should ask him?”

  “I can go get the ladder when we’re ready, Miss Shell.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I use it every time I do the light fixtures.”

  “Let’s get a start on everything we can reach, and then we’ll go get the ladder in a bit,” said Shell.

  “Okay. I put down the drop cloth?”

  “That would be a good idea! We don’t want any paint on these wood floors!”

  It wasn’t long before the two ladies were really getting a lot of paint on the walls. Shell had been itching to give the room some color, and this yellow was going to blend beautifully with the cherry tones of the wood cabinets and trim. She stopped painting every little bit to admire the effect.

  “You think I need to get you some keys to this place?” she asked Carmen. “There might be days when you’ll need to come in when I’m not here.”

  “That would be good Miss Shell,” she said. “I used to have keys to this house before Mrs. Amanda take them from me.”

  “What?” Shell asked.

  “She did not like me at all,” she said as she carefully drew her brush against the tape on the cabinet.

  “That doesn’t make sense. Why on earth not?”

  “Because I see her, Miss Shell.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I see her taking things,” she said looking at Shell. “She not want to live with Mr. Dean, and when Mrs. Lana go to hospital, she move over here. I still clean both house. I see her going through Mrs. Lana’s drawers and jewelry.”

  “Oh no! That’s awful!”

  “It was. I notice things are gone, like pearls, then emerald necklace from Mr. Dean. Mrs. Lana love presents from Mr. Dean. But she take it! I see her and I not say anything, Miss Shell, but she see me. She say, ‘Carmen, do you like living in Texas?’ I say yes. She say, ‘If you tell something bad of me to Mr. Dean, you go back to Mexico, and Angel, too!’”

  “Oh my,” said Shell, leaning against the counter in complete shock at what she was hearing. “But it wouldn’t have made a difference Carmen. She couldn’t have done that, could she?”

  “Yes. We no have legal papers, Miss Shell.” Carmen’s voice broke, and Shell could see she had tears in her eyes. “She fire me, and I can’t say anything to Mr. Dean. She take my keys. It was very bad.” She laid her paint roller on the edge of her tray and got a paper towel from the counter to dab her eyes.

  “But Dean must have known. He must have seen what was happening.”

  “He know she not like me, and he say, ‘Don’t worry. We splitting up. You come back soon.’ He say, ‘Best for you to no have to see Mrs. Amanda.’”

  “So he just let her fire you?”

  “No. He say he need me and I’m like family to him. He say, ‘Save my Thursday-Friday because you coming back soon.’ And he keep paying me Miss Shell. He send check every two weeks. And he keep Angel, too.” She took a breath. “Oh Miss Shell, I feel very bad because he pay me when I no work. I say, ‘Stop paying me.’ He say, ‘Carmen, you worth much more than what I pay you.’ He say, ‘Don’t worry about it.’”

  “So you quit coming for how long?”

  “Three months.”

  “So that explains why the house was so dirty. I couldn’t imagine Dean’s mom having a dirty house.”

  “No, she liked it very clean, but Mrs. Amanda never clean anything.”

  “I’m so sorry. It must have made you feel terrible.”

  “I still go visit Mrs. Lana in hospital. She was very good friend to me, Miss Shell. I love her very mu
ch. After Mrs. Lana die, God rest her,” here Carmen crossed herself, “Mr. Dean call me and say he need me to come back.”

  “And you never told him that Amanda had threatened to have you deported?”

  “No. What could he do, Miss Shell? If he tell Mrs. Amanda I tell him, she call border patrol on us. And I have grandson, Miss Shell. I can’t leave him.” Carmen was dabbing at her eyes again, and Shell put down her roller and put her arm around the lady.

  “I’m so sorry, Carmen. This has just been an awful ordeal for you!”

  “Yes, and now police are coming after Mr. Dean!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “They come yesterday and they talk to him. I can tell they think Mr. Dean killed Mrs. Amanda!”

  “Maybe they’re just asking him some questions.”

  “No, Miss Shell. They want to arrest him. I can feel it.” She was shaking her head and her eyes filled again.

  Shell was silent for a while. She wondered if it was true. Could the police truly be trying to pin the murder on Dean? For some reason, hearing this story about Amanda from Carmen and then hearing her take on the police investigation was making her see even greater seriousness in Dean’s situation.

  “We just don’t know how to help him, Carmen.”

  “I think her brother did it, Miss Shell.”

  “You do? Why?”

  “Mr. Dean tell me he’s been trying to reach Mr. Danny since it happen. He is gone! Why is he gone? He is running! That is what I think. She has made him very angry and he kill her. Now he is running to get away from police.”

  Shell had considered the possibility of Danny’s guilt all along. But why would he kill his own sister? Could a brother do that?

  The doorbell rang, and Shell went to let Margie and Tabitha in.

  Chapter 36

  Jason Novak lived in south Austin, just north of Slaughter Lane and east of Brodie. It was an ordinary house. The house of a common citizen, thought Gonzalez as Wilson parked along the curb. Becky Lester had said that Amanda Maxwell had called Novak’s place “a dump.” It wasn’t unlike the sergeant’s own house. There was no sidewalk. You either walked on the lawn or the driveway to the tiny porch in front of the door. The house itself looked like it was pretty small.

  Novak had a sort of commanding presence. For one thing, he was tall. For another, he had an intelligent expression in his eyes, and he seemed to have no trepidation about talking with the detectives.

  “Come on in. We can sit at the table. I’ve kinda got a mess in here.”

  Novak ushered the detectives through the living room. Parked on the coffee table, couch and chairs were parts of what appeared to be model airplanes. On the walls were posters of airplanes, mostly biplanes, and Gonzalez knew a little about the hobby. Apparently, Novak was an enthusiast.

  He gestured toward a dinette set in a kitchen that was basically part of the living room. The dinette reminded Gonzalez of his childhood. The table was chrome and red Formica and was surrounded by four red vinyl chairs.

  “Wow,” said the sergeant. “This takes me back.”

  “The table?” asked Novak. “Yeah, it’s old. My mom’s, actually. I bought her a new one.”

  “We had its twin.”

  “Hmm,” said Novak as if he didn’t much care. “Well, sit down. You guys want some water or something?”

  “No thanks. We just have a few questions for you. Do you mind if we record?” Gonzalez asked as Wilson put the recorder on the table.

  Novak seated himself opposite the sergeant. He looked at the recorder and back up at Wilson, then Gonzalez.

  “I don’t mind. Go ahead.”

  “How well did you know Amanda Maxwell?”

  “Pretty well.”

  “Can you tell us the nature of your relationship?”

  “We were lovers.”

  Gonzalez was a little taken aback by the frankness of Novak’s response. “We’d heard you dated for a while.”

  “Yes. For about six months. But that was almost six years ago. Then she decided I wasn’t good looking or rich enough and she started dating someone with half my IQ, no character, and even less money.”

  “And that person was?”

  “Ray Hoffman. I’m not blaming him for the breakup though. It was the best thing that could have happened from my perspective.”

  “Sounds like you didn’t like Amanda Maxwell much.”

  “Amanda Lopez, at the time.”

  “Sounds like you didn’t like her,” Gonzalez repeated.

  “No, I was in love with her. I couldn’t breathe for a few weeks. Then one day I woke up and realized I’d been spared. She was a horrible person.”

  “Wasn’t Hoffman your friend?”

  “Before Amanda broke up with me, yes. Then I saw him as the scumbag he is.”

  “But you continued to work with him?”

  “Sure. Till he got fired. I won’t say I wasn’t instrumental in his firing, but he did truly bring it on himself.”

  “By stealing your girlfriend?”

  “By showing up loaded day after day. It tends to grate on the coworkers. A few of us who outranked him talked to the higher-ups. It was easy to get rid of him. His productivity was in the toilet.”

  “So, would you say you’re a friend of Dean Maxwell’s?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did that work? Amanda was dating you, then Hoffman, then Maxwell. Then she married Maxwell. You didn’t like Hoffman. How is it you’re friends with Maxwell?”

  “I met Dean when I was working in California, but we didn’t really become friends till he came to Dell. That was after Amanda and I broke up. We became friends at work, started playing handball. Then one day I learn he’s been seeing Amanda. I wanted to warn him off of her, but he was already kinda involved, so I didn’t say anything. You don’t go up to a guy and tell him his girlfriend is bad news. You don’t say, ‘Oh by the way, I used to sleep with your girlfriend.’ It’s weird. It’s embarrassing. So you hope everyone’s forgotten you used to be together, and you hope your friend manages okay and never has to get that image in his head. You tell yourself she might have changed. I thought, Hell, Dean’s a good-looking guy and he makes a lot of money. That’s what she wants. Maybe she’ll be good to him.”

  “But she wasn’t so good to him?”

  “Seems like she wasn’t. Turns out what you did yesterday is a pretty good tell for what you’ll do tomorrow.”

  “What did she do?”

  “She went back with Hoffman.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I was actually pretty surprised. He’s not much of a catch. But, Dean may have figured her out and made it clear he didn’t really want her anymore. That would explain her going back to her inferior, drunken boyfriend. Or maybe she really liked him. Maybe she was attracted to her own kind.”

  “Did Maxwell know she’d gone back to Hoffman?”

  “I don’t know. Something happened. He changed, I know that. He wasn’t all that happy after the wedding. One day I called him up to meet me at the handball court, and he came and just blasted me out of the water with his game. I mean, he was getting something out of his system. Then we went out and ate breakfast. He was just as kind and friendly as always.”

  “When was this?”

  “About a month after the wedding.”

  “Did it continue?”

  “What?”

  “His blasting you out of the water?”

  “Yes, actually. At first I thought we were pretty evenly matched, but now he beats me almost every week.”

  “So he got upset about something and started playing better handball?”

  “I’m guessing getting to know her wasn’t all that pleasing, that’s all. Channeling anger into a game is a healthy outlet.”

  “Do you think he could have killed her?”

  “Dean? Doesn’t have the temperament.”

  “But he blasted you out of the water at handball. You sure he doesn’t have th
e temperament?”

  “I just don’t think he does. I guess anybody could be driven to it.”

  “Who does?”

  “Who does what?”

  “Who does have the temperament?”

  “Her brother. Hoffman. Any number of people she was willing to hang out with.”

  “How about you?”

  “Yeah. Me. I have the temperament.”

  “You have the temperament to kill?”

  “I’ve fought the urge many times.”

  “Were you fighting the urge when you beat up your mom’s boyfriend a few years ago?”

  “A few years ago? Like twenty years ago.”

  “Were you fighting the urge then?” the sergeant repeated.

  Novak didn’t answer. He stared at Gonzalez for a few seconds and drummed his fingers on the table. “No. I’d have killed him if I could.”

  “From what I’ve seen of the records, it looks like you very nearly did kill him.”

  “Lucky bastard survived.”

  “Did you kill Amanda Maxwell, Mr. Novak?”

  “Ah, come on. That would be telling. You guys need to do your own homework.”

  Gonzalez raised his eyebrows and went on, “You say she was a horrible person. How was she horrible?”

  “She was selfish. But I guess she was a little bit complicated. I mean, she hated dogs but she liked cats. She seemed to like her girlfriends, but my guess is, she’d throw any of them over a cliff for money. I don’t know. Maybe not a cat though. She had a bad childhood, but hell, a lot of us had a bad childhood.”

  “I’m confused. Did you love her or hate her?”

  “Either or? Those are my only options? Think, man! I loved her and I hated her. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Hands down. We were all attracted like moths to light. A thinking man becomes an idiot in that situation. Look at Dean. He married her.”

  “And would you call Maxwell a thinking man?”

  “Absolutely. He was mesmerized, but he may have come out of his trance sooner than other people. Unfortunately, he actually married her, so he’s in the hot seat now, isn’t he?”