A Murder State of Mind Boxed Set

by Jude Pittman

  “That was part of our understanding. He kept his philandering outside of our circle and I never asked any questions about where or with whom he spent his time.”

  Kelly frowned. “That’s going to make it rather difficult for me. I was hoping you’d be able to point me in the right direction.”

  She shook her head again. “You might try the office. I doubt if Alex was close to anyone there but I suppose either his secretary or one of his associates might have known something about his personal life.”

  “That was my next question. Can you arrange for me to have a little chat with Gavin Fletcher? I called there Friday before I came to see you and damn near froze to death from the cold shoulder I got.”

  Lorena smiled. “Lucinda Carson no doubt. I’ll give Gavin a call and make an appointment for you. When would you like to go over there?”

  “As soon as he’s available. You can give me a call and let me know what you’ve been able to arrange. I’ll be there.”

  “Fine. We haven’t discussed your fee. What I had in mind was something like ten thousand dollars if you can retrieve the negatives and identify the blackmailer.”

  “Generous but if I’m going to identify the blackmailer, I’m going to need something to work on.”

  “Of course. In the letter the blackmailer says he or she will get in touch. The last time I received a telephone call and don’t ask me if it was a man or a woman because the voice was so muffled, it could’ve been either. I was told to get the money together and in a couple of days, I would receive instructions in the mail.

  “Two days later, I received a note and a key. The instructions said I was to take the money to the U-Store outlet over in Arlington, drive out to unit number twenty-seven, unlock the door and deposit the money in a metal file cabinet I would see inside the unit.”

  Kelly gaped at her. “You did that?”

  “Yes, exactly as instructed.”

  “Didn’t you try to find out who had rented the storage unit?”

  “No. There wasn’t any reason to at that point because, as I said earlier, I thought the blackmailer was Alex. It’s the kind of thing he would do, you know. Pretending to be a blackmailer so he could get money out of me without having to admit to his own folly.”

  “I see. Well, I guess there’s a possibility the blackmailer will follow the same pattern. He’ll have realized you didn’t make any efforts to track him down, so that might make him careless. In any event, we’ll be prepared. I’ll leave you my card. It has my cell number. Call me the minute you hear. Frankly there’s a very good possibility the murder has ended any blackmail intentions there might have been.”

  “I hope so. This whole thing has been a nightmare. I’d like to get it settled so I can get on with my life.”

  Chapter Seven

  Mark pulled a hard metal chair up to the rickety old table and flopped a folder down on the scarred surface. His gaze wandered around the room. Dull mustard walls, faded brown tile, a battered trashcan, two chairs and an old table—standard jailhouse issue.

  He sighed, leaned back and focused his eyes on the heavy, barred door. Not for the first time, he found himself wishing he’d met Marcy under different circumstances. He’d fallen for her on sight. Not a good thing with a client but there it was. She was exactly the girl he’d waited for but he sure as hell hadn’t expected it to happen like this.

  He knew she was innocent but proving it was going to take some doing. The circumstantial evidence was overwhelming and he and Chris had run into one dead end after another. Chris was hot on Alex’s business associates and Mark had a bit of hope there. All the same, if Kelly failed to turn up anything in Dallas, things looked bleak.

  The door swung open and Marcy stood in the doorway. She looked so fragile. The faded blue dress hung loosely on her small frame and the dark circles under her eyes made it plain she hadn’t been sleeping well.

  Mark rose and took her hand, held it in his large one and studied her face. She blinked back tears and a sob escaped her lips. His arms slipped around her waist and he pulled her against his chest.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded, her body trembling against him. Then she stiffened, fighting for control and drew away.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “Don’t be. We all need someone to lean on once in a while. Come, sit down and we’ll chat for a bit.” He placed his arm around her shoulder and settled her into the chair.

  “Have you talked to Aunt Stella?”

  “No but I spoke to Kelly the other day and he asked me to give you her love. She’s worried about you, naturally but we’ve both assured her that we’re going to get you out of this mess.”

  Marcy smiled. She held her chin high but her lips trembled and he knew tears were close to the surface. “It looks pretty bad, doesn’t it?”

  He reached out and took her hand. “It’s early times, Marcy. Kelly’s convinced there are a few secrets being covered up in Dallas and I’m working on Winn Gordon’s story.

  You know he denies being out there on the steps when you ran away from the restaurant?”

  Her eyes widened. “Why would he lie?”

  Mark shrugged his shoulders. “It’s hard to say. Sometimes people tell lies just to keep from getting involved but there’s always a chance he knows something he’s trying to cover up.”

  Marcy shook her head. “I don’t understand any of this.”

  “Hey, that’s what you’ve got me for. You worry about taking care of yourself and that baby and let me worry about Winn Gordon and his lies. One thing I’d like to know, though. You mentioned something about a rumor you’d heard regarding Theresa and Alex.”

  “Oh, that!” She attempted a weak smile. “There was a lot of talk around the studio and I guess I was just reacting to the gossip.”

  “Can you remember anything specific?”

  She lowered her head and her cheeks flashed hot with color. Mark hated causing her pain but he needed to know if there was anything to those rumors.

  “The last time Alex was in town, which would be about two months ago, he went out to the Gordon ranch on a Saturday and he didn’t come back until Sunday afternoon. He told me he’d been discussing business with Winn and it got late, so they invited him to spend the night. I didn’t think anything about it at the time but then I heard through the grapevine, Winn wasn’t even in town that weekend.”

  Mark leaned over and patted her shoulder. “I know this is hard on you but you’ve been a big help.”

  “I hate this.”

  “I know you do but just hang in there. We’re all behind you and we’re going to get to the bottom of things, I promise. You just take care of yourself, okay?”

  “Okay!” She lowered her head and bit down on her lip.

  The matron came and led Marcy back to her cell. Mark stopped at the desk, signed the book and stepped out into the bright fall sunshine.

  Mark stopped at the office to pick up directions to the ranch and instructed his secretary to cancel his appointments for the rest of the day. It was still early and he was hoping to surprise Theresa and maybe catch her off guard.

  Pulling out of his parking place, Mark swung around the side street between the post office and old Union Station, made a left on Broadway and headed west to the freeway. A few minutes later, he was on I-65, headed for Williamson County, about twenty miles away. He took the Franklin exit, turned east away from the historic little town and wound down a tree-lined country road.

  A freshly painted, white, wrought iron sign marked the entrance to the Bar WTG. Mark made a sharp right and turned up a single lane paved road. He drove through a couple of miles of dense woodland and came out at a double row of pruned hedges.

  The drive circled a wide stretch of well-manicured lawn and ended in front of an elegant white colonial house.

  Mark chuckled a bit at the Gordons’ idea of ranch life.

  A red BMW convertible was parked in the driveway but there
was no sign of life around the house. Still, the car was out of the garage, so he had hopes. He got out of his car, followed a flower-banked slate pathway up to the front porch and pushed the doorbell. Chimes sounded inside the house and Mark stood back and waited. The door swung open and an elderly woman with tightly braided hair and a long nose peered at him from the doorway.

  He stepped forward, extended his card and met her sharp black eyes. “I’d like to speak to Mrs. Gordon if she’s home.” He stepped back and waited for her to read the card.

  She scanned the card, glared up at him and tightened her grip on the door. “I’ll see if she’s in.” She slammed the door shut.

  Mark shook his head. Not exactly Miss Congeniality.

  Ten minutes passed and he was beginning to think he’d been stonewalled, when the door swung open and she was back.

  “Mrs. Gordon will be down shortly. You can wait in the library.”

  Mark stepped through the door and followed her down the hall into a large book- lined room.

  “You can sit there.” She waved him toward a big walnut desk flanked with two brown leather chairs. She stood in the doorway until he sat, then whirled around and stomped out of the room.

  Mark sank back in the chair and sent his eyes around the room. Whatever Gordon’s connection was to Miller-Wyatt Enterprises, it must pay well. This house rivaled his parents’ home and Mark’s father owned a fair chunk of downtown Nashville.

  Another twenty minutes passed and Mark was about to go in search of the old sourpuss when he heard a faint rustle and swiveled toward the door.

  Theresa Gordon walked toward him. She was a knockout all right. Long legged and slender with thick dark hair tumbled around her shoulders and smoky eyes that swept over him and settled on his face.

  “You wanted to see me?” Her voice was husky, pleasant and smooth and her lips tilted with the hint of a smile.

  He stood and matched the smile, offering his hand.

  She tightened her fingers against his large palm and gave him the full force of her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, I suppose you haven’t been offered coffee. You’ll have to excuse Rebecca. She’s been with my husband’s family for ages and I’m afraid her manners leave something to be desired.”

  “No problem.” He smiled and settled back in the chair. “I’ve had my quota this morning.”

  “So, what can I do for you?” She slid in behind the desk, leaned forward and studied his face.

  Mark shifted in the chair, clamped his hands over his knee and met her eyes. “I represent Marcy Benson and I’d like to ask you a few questions about the night Alex Wyatt was murdered.”

  She kept her eyes on his face and acknowledged his question with a brief nod. “I understand you and your husband had a conversation with Alex that night.” She nodded again. “We’ve both given statements to the police.”

  Mark smiled. “I’ve read them but I have a couple of questions, if you don’t mind?” She tightened her lips and nodded what Mark assumed to be permission to ask.

  “According to Marcy, your husband spoke to her outside and actually witnessed her walking away from the restaurant.”

  “Shouldn’t you be speaking to my husband, if it’s a question of his word against your client’s?”

  Mark straightened up in the chair, tilted his head and gave her a hard, unblinking look.

  “I came to you because I’d like to avoid an unpleasant situation. I’ve received some damaging testimony concerning your relations with Alex Wyatt. I’d hate to take this information to the police but since it supports the fact your husband had a strong, personal animus against Wyatt, I’m prepared to take whatever steps are required to protect my client.”

  “What do you want?”

  Mark frowned. He’d been prepared for a long argument. Her unexpected capitulation surprised him. Not wanting to miss an opportunity, he swallowed any misgivings and got straight to the point. “I want the truth about what your husband saw that night,” he said, fixing her with a hard stare.

  “I’ve already told Winn it was stupid of him to lie,” she said, giving her head an angry shake. “He’s finally agreed and he’s now willing to go to the police and tell them he made a mistake.”

  “Then he’s prepared to admit he did see Marcy leave the restaurant.”

  “Yes. Winn saw her take off down the road. He told me he’d found her crying and tried to comfort her. That’s when she ran off. He lied because he didn’t want to get involved. By the time I found out, it was too late for me to do anything except support his story.”

  “I take it you’re both prepared to tell the truth now.” Mark struggled to keep the contempt out of his voice.

  “Yes,” she snapped, “but I don’t see how it’s going to help. Winn went back inside the restaurant right after she took off and she could easily have turned around and gone out to Alex’s car as soon as Winn was out of sight.”

  Mark got up from the chair and leaned across the desk. “I’d appreciate it if you and your husband would make a point of amending your statements without delay. Don’t bother your maid. I can show myself out.”

  Mark could almost feel Teresa’s eyes stare daggers into his back as he crossed the room and headed for the front door.

  Outside, he lost no time swinging his car around the drive and heading back to the main road. As he pulled out the gate, he glanced in the rearview mirror and spotted Teresa on the step. She had such a look of fury on her face that Mark indulged himself in a burst of laughter. Teresa Gordon wasn’t used to being put in her place and she sure hadn’t been pleased with Mark’s approach.

  His smiled faded, though, when he turned his thoughts back to their conversation. Teresa hadn’t struck him as the kind of woman who would easily give up a position once one had been taken. Maybe their sudden cooperation had more to do with Chris’ digging than any reconsidered sense of justice.

  Mark resolved to have Chris do some more checking. The Gordons’ standard of living seemed out of proportion to their supposed income. Of course, one of their families might have the money but it wouldn’t hurt to find out.

  Chapter Eight

  “Kelly, where the hell have you been keeping yourself?” Bubba looked up from the minnow tank and a broad grin spread across his face.

  “I’ve been around.” Kelly pulled out a chair and plopped himself down at the old wooden table. “This stuff hot?” He nodded toward the aluminum coffeepot stuck on the back burner of the cook stove.

  “Hot and black like it oughta be.” Bubba wiped his hands against his jeans and reached for a couple of mugs.

  “So what’s up?” he asked, setting down the mugs and grabbing the pot.

  Kelly shook his head. “I’ve been trying to dig up information to help Stella’s niece but so far I’ve been butting my head against a stone wall.”

  “Rough stuff, huh?” Bubba shoved his cowboy hat back on his head and propped his elbows on the table.

  “Yeah, she’s a good kid. I don’t for a minute believe she killed her boyfriend but I haven’t had a lot of luck finding another candidate.”

  “Sounds like it’s kinda getting to you.”

  “I guess I’m taking it a bit too personally. Stella’s a trooper and I hate to think I’m going to let her down. I didn’t come here to talk about my own problems though. I just wanted to touch base and see what’s going on with your fish camp.”

  Bubba grinned. “I picked up the check last night. Two more weeks and I’m outta here.”

  “You’re sure you aren’t going to regret passing up that Florida deal?”

  Bubba shook his head. “I kinda lost interest in Florida after Anna died. It just wouldn’t be the same.”

  Kelly smiled and gripped his friend’s shoulder. “I understand, Bubba. Oregon will give you a whole new start.”

  “I still think you oughta come along with me.”

  Kelly chuckled and took a swig of coffee. “It’s a tempting offer, Bubba but it’s way past time I
joined the living again. You never know, though. Give me a couple of years in the rat race and I may come beating down your door.”

  “Anytime and remember, Oregon’s supposed to be a fisherman’s idea of heaven.”

  “I’m sure it is. And come spring, I’ll be giving myself a couple of weeks’ vacation, so you can count on seeing me then.”

  “Hot damn!” Bubba thumped the table and grinned. “I’ll have the place whipped into shape by then sure enough. I’m telling you, Kelly, that place is a real paradise.”

  “Hey, you’ve sold me. I might even bring Gillian along if she can get away from that stable of hers long enough.”

  “Great! Say, maybe Cam and Stella might be interested. We could make it a real old home week. They’re getting pretty tight those two.”

  Kelly nodded and his eyes crinkled with amusement. “That’s what I was hoping for when I talked Stella into giving Cam a hand for a while. I figured there’d be some sparks if I could get them together long enough. I’m damn glad for both of them. They need each other.”

  “Yeah and she sure as hell knows how to make him toe the mark. Ain’t none of that meek and mild shit like he was used to with Darlene.”

  Kelly nodded and pushed his chair back. “Darlene was a great gal but no way did she have the spunk to handle a rang-a-tang like Cam. Well, I better get out of here and let you get back to work,” he said, reaching over to set his mug on the counter and getting up from the table.

  “Glad you stopped by.” Bubba followed him to the door. “You gonna be at that shindig Cam’s throwing for me next weekend?”

  “Couldn’t keep me away.” Kelly grinned and clapped Bubba on the shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  “Anytime. Don’t be a stranger now.” Bubba grabbed another pail of minnows.

  Kelly whistled for Jake who came bounding up from the creek and fell into step beside him. “You been checking up on Lucy?” Kelly asked running his hand along Jake’s back.

  Lucy had moved in permanently with Stella after Gus called to say that Jerry Thompson was going into a nursing home. The old guy had been delighted to hear Stella was willing to give his dog a home and Jake had been making daily visits ever since the move. Lucy seemed content with her new home and like Stella, she had fitted right in to life at Indian Creek.