Calvin looked properly chastised, but Neely Kate looked like she had a bone to pick, and we wouldn’t get in his good graces if she carried on accusing him of cheating on his wife.
“Neely Kate, why don’t you go outside to ask June some questions while I talk to Calvin about his afternoon with Patsy.”
Her mouth gaped as she jerked her head to face me, but then she cast a quick glance at Calvin, who already looked pink-cheeked and irritated. Understanding filled her eyes. “Yeah. That’s a good idea. Let’s go back to your desk, June.”
“I’m not leavin’ him alone with this woman.”
I could understand her distrust of Calvin—obviously he’d used his office for all his rendezvous—but now she was besmirching my character. “The only interest I have in Calvin Clydehopper is what he knows about Patsy.” Then I softened my tone. “June, if you’re acting like Calvin’s guard dog, then you obviously care about Patsy, right?”
“I had no idea she was a suspect.”
“We want to help clear her name. That’s all. If you let us do our jobs, we’ll get to the bottom of this a whole lot sooner.”
She nodded and dabbed the corner of her eye with a wadded tissue she pulled from her pocket. “Okay.”
I gave her a warm smile. “Good. Now you two go get started.”
June walked out first with Neely Kate following behind. She cast an apologetic glance at me as she shut the door.
I sat down in the chair in front of Calvin’s desk. “Calvin, I have no idea what kind of relationship you have with your wife. Honestly, it’s none of my business, but there are certain things I need to know to help Patsy.”
He cast a glance at the door. “I don’t want this gettin’ all over town.”
“I promise we won’t take what we learn from you and gossip about it.”
He watched me for a moment as though waiting for some cartoonish confirmation that I was lying. After a few seconds, he nodded and swallowed. “If it will help Patsy . . .”
I gave him a smile of encouragement.
“Patsy and I have never had a . . . traditional marriage.”
“How so?” I asked, cringing. I hated being intrusive, but I suspected these were things I needed to know.
“We used to have an open relationship. Patsy knows I like a little variety and she used to tolerate it. In fact, she used to go to Little Rock and seek out a few relationships of her own. But she’s become less tolerant.”
“Hence June,” I said.
“Exactly.” He looked up at me with pleading eyes. “Carol Ann didn’t mean anything to me.”
“But you slept with her anyway?” I asked, working hard to keep the accusation out of my voice.
He looked down at his desk and nodded. “She was . . . fun.”
“When did Patsy find out?”
“Yesterday when Carol Ann sent her two photos of us.”
“She sent them after you got home from the picnic?” I asked.
“Yeah. My phone call only riled her up. She said she wanted the whole world to know about us. The next thing I knew, she’d sent Patsy those photos.”
“What time was that?” I asked.
“About three.”
That didn’t sound good, especially since Patsy hadn’t called me until after seven. That was four hours unaccounted for. “Carol Ann checked into the motel on Saturday night. Did you know that?”
His cheeks turned pinker as he nodded. “I went to see her Saturday night. That’s when she got the photos.”
Oh crap. “And something in the photos told Patsy they’d been taken recently.”
“Yeah. She recognized my . . .” He coughed. “Tie.”
“How did she—oh . . .” I felt my cheeks flush. But this was no time for modesty. I might have just figured out who’d supplied the murder weapon. “What did the tie look like?”
His head jerked up and anger filled his eyes. “What difference does it make?”
“Humor me,” I said with a soft smile. I didn’t want to tell him the real reason. As far as I knew, the sheriff’s department hadn’t released the cause of death. “I want to verify with Patsy Sue that’s what she saw. Just dottin’ the i’s and crossin’ the t’s.”
He cleared his throat. “It was blue. With white whales on it.”
This case had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.
Chapter 8
I tried to hide my reaction. Was Calvin the real murderer? But if so, why would he have told me about the tie and the photos? And why wasn’t he using Patsy as a convenient scapegoat? “Did Patsy know Carol Ann was at the Broken Branch Motel?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t find out from me.”
“Could she have scrolled through your texts?”
He shook his head. “I deleted them as soon as they came in.” He paused. “Well, she sent the photos to me too, and I kept them. I figured Patsy had already seen them. The harm was done.”
That meant Patsy must have found out where Carol Ann was staying from someone else. Who? Carol Ann herself?
“I take it Patsy wasn’t too happy.”
He grimaced. “No. She came tearin’ out of our bedroom, angrier than I’ve ever seen her, throwing around a bunch of things . . .” Guilt filled his eyes. “She said she was gonna kill us both, but she didn’t really mean it,” he said emphatically.
“Do you know when Carol Ann got back into town?”
“Uh . . . early last week. I saw her twice before Saturday.”
“Where did you see her? Another motel?”
His face flushed. “Not exactly.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What does that mean?”
“I met her out by the lake. On a side road.”
“So you don’t know where she was staying before Saturday night?”
“I didn’t think to ask. I just knew she was back in town.”
“Did she tell you why she was back or what she’d been up to?”
The crimson on his cheeks deepened. “Uh . . . we didn’t do much talkin’, if you know what I mean.”
I gave a short nod, averting my gaze. “Did you know that Carol Ann was takin’ photos of you on Saturday night?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m not that stupid. I’m not sure how she managed it, but they weren’t selfies.”
Oh, mercy. I couldn’t believe what I was about to ask. “I’m gonna need you to send them to me.”
“Why?” he asked in panic.
“Because I want to see where she might have hidden the camera. Maybe it caught footage of whoever killed her.”
He hesitated for several seconds, a war raging on his face, but finally released a loud groan and pulled out his phone. “I’ll send them in an email.”
“Okay,” I said, then gave him my email address.
He tapped into his phone. After nearly half a minute of tapping, he set it down on his desk and my phone buzzed with an incoming email. I opened the email to ensure it had attachments, then closed it before they could load.
“So after Patsy threw her fit, what happened next?”
“She left.”
“And that was around three o’clock? Did you see or talk to her after that?”
“No.”
“Do you know where she is now?”
“I don’t know. Is that all?” Calvin asked, retrieving his handkerchief again. His face was covered in beads of sweat, and damp spots were spreading under the armpits of his blue shirt. He looked like he’d run a half marathon. “The office staff’s about to return.”
I was about to leave—he’d clearly told me all he intended to—but then realized I hadn’t gotten Calvin’s alibi. “What were you doin’ after Patsy left?”
“I took a nap and watched some TV.”
I tried to hide my disbelief. How had he taken a nap after that? “And how did you find out that Carol Ann was dead?”
“When the sheriff’s deputy showed up at my house last night looking for Patsy.”
“Do you happen to
know which deputy it was?”
He grimaced, but it was obvious he didn’t want to think about it. “Uh . . . Randy?”
I perked up. “Randy Miller?”
“Yeah. That was it.”
That could work out in my favor. I was actually friends with Randy. I pulled a business card out of my purse—not the glittering ones Neely Kate had made that said Sparkle Investigations, but a plain white card with my name and number and the name of Kermit’s agency—and slid it across the desk to him. “If you think of anything else you think might be helpful, will you give me a call?”
He picked up the card and put it in his desk drawer. “Yeah. Sure thing.”
I found Neely Kate in front of June’s desk, her mouth hanging open. A young woman was telling Neely Kate a story while June shot daggers at her back.
“And there Calvin was on his hands and knees, his drawers at his ankles, and the girl was sitting on his back like he was a pony while she smacked his butt cheek with a riding crop. And then you’ll never guess what she did with that thing . . .”
“And we don’t want to know,” I quickly inserted.
Neely Kate gave me the stink eye. “Speak for yourself.”
“We don’t actually need to know all the details about Calvin’s flings,” I said.
“Flings?” the young woman asked with a raised eyebrow. “Is that what he’s calling them?”
“You disagree?” I asked.
“That’s enough of this nonsense,” June said, her steely eyes staring down the young woman. “Don’t you need to get back to the meeting?”
The young woman looked properly chastised as she picked up a notebook and pen from a desk and hurried toward a hall close to the exit.
The tension on June’s face faded slightly. “Calvin has had a wandering eye for years. But his . . . indiscretions . . . have been a lot shorter lately.”
Something about her choice of words struck me. “When we first arrived, you thought we were here to have a . . . fling with Calvin. Why?”
“Women just show up sometimes. But they’re different from the ones he used to bring around. I’m sure they’re prostitutes.” She tsked.
Neely Kate’s eyes widened. “You thought we were prostitutes?”
June had the good sense to look embarrassed. “They would show up during the staff meeting.”
“How did he get these prostitutes to drop by?” Neely Kate asked. “Last time I checked, there wasn’t an app for that.”
“I’m not sure,” the older woman said, curling her upper lip. “I never asked.”
I handed her a business card. “If you think of anything that might help Patsy, give me or Neely Kate a call.”
She nodded.
Neely Kate and I headed out to the truck, remaining silent until we were shut inside the cab.
“I hope you got more information than I did,” Neely Kate said, “because other than the prostitute twist, I got squat.”
“You’ll never believe what I found out.” I told her about the photos and the tie.
“I knew Calvin had a wandering eye, but I had no idea he’d been with so many women. It certainly makes the prostitute angle even more likely,” Neely Kate said. “How many women in this town would want to sleep with him?”
She had a point. “I suppose with the tight rein June and Patsy have on that man, it’s the only way he can get women.”
She snorted. “Plus, he looks like a pasty sack of flour.”
There was that.
“So,” Neely Kate said, “other than the fact that Calvin could potentially be a suspect too, we’ve got diddly to clear Patsy.”
Looked like it.
Chapter 9
“How about you drop me back at the office before you go eat lunch with Violet?” Neely Kate said. “I’ll grab some lunch with Jed and see if he’ll take me to see Patsy’s mother and aunt.”
“What if someone sees you together?”
She shrugged. “I’m tired of hiding him. I’ve got nothin’ to be ashamed of.”
“What about Joe?”
Her face hardened. “I’m done carin’ what that man thinks.”
“Neely Kate . . .”
“No. He made it clear who his priority is.”
The stubborn look on her face made it clear there would be no swaying her decision. “Well, just be careful.”
She hesitated. “If more guys turn up, it might be a good idea to have someone we can call for help, for backup. We both know and trust Jed. Even if he’s still with Skeeter, he wouldn’t betray us.”
No, he’d proven that before. “You’re right, but don’t tell Jed why yet. And see if he knows anything about the guy who was shot close to the county line.”
A grave look washed over her face. “Yeah.”
I parked on the side street next to our office. “I’ll let you know when I’m done. If you’re still meetin’ with Patsy’s mother and aunt, I’ll do more diggin’ into Marshall, but first things first. I want to ask Randy Miller about the case. I’ll put in a to-go order at Merilee’s for Violet and the kids, then give him a call while I’m waiting.”
“Okay,” she said. “Be careful.”
“You too.” I sent Violet a text to let her know I was running behind but would be bringing food over, to which she immediately responded, Bless you.
Neely Kate and I both hopped out of the truck. She headed into the office while I walked across the street to the café. After putting in the order, I walked across the street to the park bench in front of the courthouse to make my call.
“Rose,” Randy said when he answered. “How are you?”
“I’m good. What’s new with you?”
“Things are good. Well, better than good. I’m datin’ someone right now.”
I squealed with excitement. “Really? Who?”
“Margi Romano.”
“Romano . . . is she any relation to the new vet, Levi Romano?”
“Yeah, she’s his sister. She’s gonna help him run his office, but she’s been here for about a month. I met her at the DMV when she was changing her license.”
“That’s weird,” I said. “We dated a few times, and he never mentioned his sister had moved here too.”
He paused, obviously unsure of how to respond to that. “So what can I do for you?” he asked.
I cringed, feeling guilty. “I’m sure you’ve heard Patsy Sue Clydehopper hired us to clear her of murdering her cousin.”
He chuckled. “I hope you got your money up front, because she’s gonna be needin’ it for bail.”
“So you found her?”
“No, but we will,” he said with an assurance I wasn’t sure I liked.
“I’m wondering if you can help me with a few things.”
“You can ask. No guarantee I’ll answer.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “First, was strangulation with that tie the cause of death?” We’d been running with that assumption, but I was reminded of my conversation with Joe that morning. It was just that: an assumption.
“The state coroner hasn’t said yet.”
I wasn’t surprised. I’d learned from Mason it usually took a few days. “But what theory are y’all runnin’ with for the cause of death?”
He laughed. “You know I can’t tell you that.”
“Okay,” I said, “tell me this. Did you find any hidden cameras in the motel room?”
He was silent for a moment. “What makes you ask?”
Did that pause mean they’d found some and he didn’t like that I knew or that they hadn’t found any because they hadn’t thought to look? I was going with the latter. I pulled the phone away from my ear, put him on speaker, and opened up my email from Calvin. “I have my sources. I take it you didn’t look.”
There was a long pause before he said, “No.”
“If I give you a point in the right direction, maybe you’ll feel up to sharing information with me sometime in the future,” I said, then braced myself as I opened the photos
. Oh, lordy. No wonder Patsy Sue had lost it. I squinted, trying to see as little of the action as possible. “I suspect there’s a camera still hidden in there. Look at the top left corner of the photo of the big deer, over the dresser.”
“How do you know about the camera?” he asked, turning serious.
“Like I said, I have my sources. This was a freebie, but if that camera helps ID the killer, I’m hoping you’ll let me know before you announce it to the media.”
“Yeah. If we find something, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.” I hung up and headed back into the café. The food was ready, so I paid and was heading out the door as Dena was heading in.
I tried to hide my surprise at seeing her, unsure how to act. Before Joe, I would have told her hello, maybe exchanged some pleasantries before continuing on my way. But it was obvious that Dena had issues with me, and I wasn’t sure talking to her at the entrance to downtown Henryetta’s most popular restaurant was the best idea.
She made the decision for me. “Rose,” she said in a curt tone.
“Dena, about this morning . . .”
She lifted her chin. “There’s nothing to discuss.”
“But I know you—”
“I said there was nothing to discuss,” she snapped, then pushed past me toward the counter.
I walked out onto the sidewalk, worried I’d just lost Dena as a friend.
* * *
Ashley and Mikey were waiting at the door when I arrived, and they ran out to meet me.
“We’re hungry, Aunt Rose!” Ashley said as I got out of the truck. “We didn’t think you were ever goin’ to get here!”
“Well, I’m here now,” I said with a grin.
Violet was lying on the sofa, propped up with pillows and covered with an afghan. I had to hide my surprise when I saw how pale she looked. But I forced a huge smile and held up the takeout bags.
“I brought your favorite from Merilee’s.”
She grinned. “Her pot roast?”
“Of course.” I went into the kitchen and set the bags on the counter, and the kids followed behind. “Hey,” I said enthusiastically, “how about we have a picnic?”
Hell in a Handbasket Page 9
