A Murder State of Mind Boxed Set

by Jude Pittman

  “Good idea. You need some sleep yourself. Why don’t we go to the hospital first? I’ll take over at Kelly’s bedside and you gals can go get some sleep.”

  “You’re going to need some rest too.”

  “I’m fine. I’m used to burning the candle at both ends. Besides, I can sleep anywhere. I’ll catch a few winks in the chair.”

  “Okay. We’ll tell Gillian you’d like to spend a couple of hours with Kelly and that way she won’t argue.”

  * * *

  “You wait here,” Stella said, stopping outside a small waiting room. “I’ll go over to the nursing station and ask them to get Gillian for us.”

  Stella left him there and wandered down the hall in search of the nurses’ unit.

  A fresh-faced young nurse attempted to stop her until Stella explained that they were just going to take Gillian to rest while someone else stood watch at Kelly’s bedside.

  The nurse directed her down the hall. The door to Kelly’s room was shut. She pushed it open and stepped inside. Kelly’s bed was a minefield of tubes, hoses, lines and bottles. A thin sheet covered his body, his eyes were closed and Gillian lay with her head on his pillow, her blonde hair spread like a fan around her face. She was sound asleep.

  Stella bent over the bed. Kelly’s face was pale, almost gray against the white of the sheet. Reaching across him, she touched Gillian’s shoulder.

  Gillian’s eyes snapped open and she jerked her head toward Kelly. “It’s just me,” Stella whispered.

  Gillian sat up and brushed her hand across her eyes. “I must’ve dozed off.”

  “Good, you needed it. Let’s go down to the waiting room. Cam’s there and he can sit with Kelly.”

  Gillian nodded, leaned across the bed and pressed her lips against Kelly’s cheek, then rose and followed Stella out of the room.

  “Hi.” She smiled at Cam, who met them at the waiting room door and reached out for her hands.

  “Hi, yourself. You look done in.”

  “I’m okay. Stella caught me napping.”

  “Have you heard anything from the doc?”

  She shook her head. “There hasn’t been anybody around. I don’t imagine he’ll be back until morning. Kelly seems to be breathing more easily but nothing else has changed.”

  Cam nodded. “These things take time. At least he’s breathing on his own. I think that must be a good sign.”

  “Cam’s going to stay with Kelly for a while,” Stella interjected. “You and I are going to check into a motel and get a couple of hours of sleep.” Her tone brooked no argument and Gillian gave her a meek smile.

  “I could sure do with a shower,” she said, “but what about you, Cam? You haven’t had any sleep either.”

  He grinned. “I’m an old barkeep. I work late all the time. Now don’t worry about me. You two run along and get some rest. I’ll wander down to Kelly’s room and be right there when you get back.”

  “He’s in 406,” Stella said, putting her arm around his waist and giving him a parting squeeze.

  “Thanks, Cam,” Gillian said.

  * * *

  Cam strolled down the hall to 406, stopped outside, then reached up and pushed the door. It slid open and Cam’s eyes went straight to the bed. Kelly’s arms and legs were taped with tubes and hoses and an oxygen line ran into his nose.

  “Well, buddy,” Cam said, bending over the bed. “Looks like you’ve pulled a good one this time.”

  Kelly’s eyes remained closed and after watching him for a while, Cam moved around the bed, pulled out the chair and sat. He could see why the girls had been spooked. Kelly was pale as a ghost. For the first time, Cam wondered if this was going to be it for his friend and a lump lodged itself in his throat.

  Time passed, minutes melding into hours, with Cam alternating between dozing and waking. Close to dawn, he came full awake, glanced over at Kelly and nearly fell out of his chair. Kelly’s eyes were open. He was staring at Cam, a baffled expression on his face. Cam reached over and grabbed his hand.

  “Hey, buddy, welcome back to the land of the living.”

  Kelly gurgled and his eyes searched Cam’s face.

  “It’s all right,” Cam said tightening his fingers. “You’ve had an accident.”

  Kelly shook his head, straining to speak. He used his tongue to wet his lips and tried his voice again. “Killer,” he croaked.

  Cam nodded. “We know. The girls found you just in time.”

  Kelly sank back in the pillow and closed his eyes.

  Cam stood over the bedside, watching. The next time Kelly opened his eyes, he scanned the room, searching.

  Cam, interpreting his gaze, said, “Gillian’s been with you all night. She was played out, so Stella took her down the road to a motel. They’ll be back soon.”

  Kelly closed his eyes.

  Cam stretched out his legs and slumped into the chair. He could finally relax. It would take time but Kelly was going to be okay.

  Chapter Eleven

  When Gillian and Stella returned to the hospital, Kelly looked much as usual. But, when Cam told them that he’d been awake for a few minutes, they both shrieked with joy.

  “Did you call the nurse?” Gillian wanted to know.

  Cam nodded. “She said the doctor had been expecting him to come out of it today. Apparently everything that needs to be done is already taken care of and the only thing to do now is wait for his body to come around.”

  Gillian stepped over to the bedside chair and sat down. “Waiting is something I’m really good at,” she said. “I guess that comes from spending so much time in the barn waiting for one of my mares to foal.”

  Stella laughed and reached over to give her a hug. “You’re a trooper, Gillian. If you’re sure you don’t mind staying with Kelly, there’s a little chore I need to do for Mark and this might be a good time to take care of it.”

  Gillian nodded. “You go right ahead. I called my cousin while you were asleep. She said she’d stay at the stable as long as I needed her, so I’m all set. You two get on out of here. I’ll take really good care of this battered up old Texan.”

  With Gillian’s assurance Kelly was taken care of, Stella was anxious to get over to Miller-Wyatt. Cam willingly drove into downtown Dallas, pulled up in front of 901 Main Street and leaned across the seat to squeeze Stella’s shoulder. “I’m here if you need me,” he said.

  “I know.” She gave him her biggest smile. “I’m only going to ask them some questions.”

  Stepping onto the sidewalk, she turned and lifted her hand in a brief wave then marched up to the revolving doors and disappeared inside. The steel and glass cage whisked her to the twentieth floor in a heartbeat. The doors slid open and Stella stepped out onto the thick gold carpet.

  At the entryway, Stella gave the black circle a firm poke and the doors swung open into the reception room. Giant palms swayed in their redwood buckets and gold baskets, twirled by ceiling fans, danced above the giant aquariums. Ignoring the fish and fronds, Stella marched over to the smart black reception desk.

  “My name is Stella Davis,” she said, towering over the platinum blonde receptionist. “I’d like to see Gavin Fletcher.”

  “Is Mr. Fletcher expecting you?” She clipped her words and let her cold blue eyes sweep over Stella.

  Undaunted, Stella bent over the desk. Eyes flashing, she glared down at the woman. “Let’s put it this way,” Stella snapped. “Either you buzz Fletcher and tell him I’m waiting out here, or I go through that door and tell him myself.”

  “Mr. Fletcher doesn’t see callers without an appointment.” The woman’s voice trailed off into a gasp as she watched Stella march over to the door.

  “Like hell he doesn’t,” Stella flung over her shoulder and giving the door a shove, she marched into the room.

  Anger propelled her across the carpet and up to a sleek mahogany desk. Planting both palms flat on its immaculate surface, she leaned over and glared at a slick, silver- haired man who looked up and met
her glare with a calm direct gaze.

  If she’d shocked him, Gavin Fletcher wasn’t letting it show. Tilting his head and doing an efficient inventory of her eye-catching figure, he raised one eyebrow. “Can I help you?” he asked in a Texas drawl barely audible beneath the cultured tones of Harvard Law.

  Stella paused, did a slow spin, letting her eyes travel over the other two occupants of the room and then turned back to Fletcher.

  “You can if these gentlemen are Mike Langley and Winn Gordon?”

  “What’s this?” The younger of the two, whom Stella assumed to be Winn Gordon, jumped to his feet at the sound of his name and marched over to Stella as if he had a purpose in mind. Watching him cross the room, she kept her eyes steady on his face.

  “I’m Winn Gordon,” he said.

  Stella smiled and extended a hand. “How do you do?”

  He took her hand, a mixture of confused emotions flitting across his round face. “Should I know you?” he asked.

  “Not me directly but I believe you know my niece, Marcy Benson.”

  “Oh!” He nodded and a deep red flush moved up his neck to cover his face. “Sure I know Marcy. Nice gal, great little singer. Sorry to hear about her trouble.”

  Hearing Marcy’s name, Mike Langley rose from his seat and joined Winn and Stella in front of Gavin’s desk.

  “Well, Mrs. Davis,” Gavin leaned across his desk to join the tableau, “now you’ve got our attention, perhaps you’ll tell us the purpose of your visit?”

  Stella flashed a smile. “Nothing threatening...just some questions,” she quipped. “I’m trying to help my niece. I’m sure you can understand that.”

  Gavin nodded and Mike Langley smiled and reached out to touch her shoulder. Win Gordon kept his eyes on her face.

  Stella swiveled to Mike and returned his smile. “Marcy’s lawyer was wondering if there was a specific reason for Alex’s trip to Nashville.”

  Mike frowned and shook his head. “Specific? No, I don’t think so. Alex liked to keep his hand in with the music business and it wasn’t unusual for him to fly up to see us on a moment’s notice.”

  “The trip wasn’t especially planned then?”

  “Not to my knowledge but Alex rarely confided in me. He could’ve had an agenda he didn’t feel like sharing. You never knew with him. Alex had a lot of irons in the fire and he kept his business private.”

  “How about you?” Stella turned back to Gavin. “Did Alex say anything to you about this particular trip?”

  “Well, now, it’s funny you should ask that. This isn’t general knowledge but I’ve already told the police and I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t have it as well.”

  Stella gave him her full attention. “So there was something?” Her voice was barely a whisper but Gavin heard it and smiled.

  “I don’t know if it’s what you’d call something but just before he left, Alex stopped by my office and asked me to dig out everything I could find on record piracy.”

  “What?” Mike Langley’s voice boomed. “Why the hell haven’t I been told about this?”

  Gavin turned to face Mike. “I was just getting around to it, Mike, when this young lady showed up. The whole thing’s moot now, in any case. Alex didn’t believe in sharing information and I’m afraid whatever suspicions he had, died with him.”

  “Damn fool,” Mike muttered. “I don’t like to speak ill of the dead but we all know Alex was a pain in the ass. If there’s some record pirating going on, I should’ve been informed first thing. Instead, he goes and gets himself killed and how the hell am I supposed to find out what kind of trail he was following?”

  Gavin shrugged and turned back to Stella. “I don’t know how much this’ll help you,” he said, “but your niece’s lawyer might consider putting a good investigator on Alex’s back trail just to see what he comes up with. In any event, I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you.”

  “Bullshit!” Winn Gordon blurted.

  Startled, Stella turned to face him. “You don’t think Alex was after a record pirate?” she asked.

  Winn snorted and gave a short twist of his head. “Nope. If you want the truth, I don’t think he gave a damn about the record business. He just used the company as an excuse to get away from his old lady and do some skirt chasing.”

  Stella crinkled her forehead. She’d been hoping to broach the subject of Alex’s affairs with women and here was Winn Gordon handing it to her. Even if it was just to get her off the track of record pirates. “I understand Alex spent a few days out at your ranch the last time he was in Nashville.”

  Winn’s face turned redder and he sputtered and spit trying to speak. “Who the hell told you that?” he demanded. “That’s a damn lie. You tell me the name of the son of a bitch who’s trying to pull me in on this thing and I’ll settle his ass good.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Gordon,” she said, “but I can’t name my informant. I can tell you, however, that it wasn’t a man and the lady in question is someone of impeccable repute.”

  “I don’t give a shit what her repute is. She’s a liar and she’s not going to get away with slandering my wife.”

  “But Mr. Gordon,” Stella widened her eyes and smiled. “I haven’t said anything about your wife.”

  Winn’s face turned almost purple and, when he took a step toward Stella, she backed away from him and bumped into Mike Langley.

  “I think you’d better leave now,” Mike said. “I’m afraid we’ve told you everything we can about Alex’s unfortunate death.”

  Stella looked over at Gavin and he nodded. “Mike’s right. I’m sorry about your niece but there’s nothing more we can tell you and under the circumstances, I think it’d be better if you left.”

  “Of course. I appreciate your time,” Stella said, offering her hand to Gavin and receiving his firm grip in return.

  Stella stepped out of the office, closed the door and walked straight up to the reception desk.

  “Excuse me,” she said to the platinum blonde. “A friend of mine stopped in here the other day and a woman he referred to as ‘Ms. Frigid Butt’, refused to announce him to Mr. Fletcher. My friend wanted me to give her a message and I was wondering if you could deliver it.”

  The blonde’s reaction—eyes popping and jaw hanging open—was everything Stella could have hoped for. “I’ll tell Mr. McWinter that the message has been received,” Stella said before she turned and marched out of the room.

  Back outside the building, Stella climbed in the front seat and flashed him a triumphant grin.

  “Success?”

  “I’m not sure.” Stella frowned. “I got Winn Gordon stirred up but Mark will have to figure out whether it’ll do us any good or not. I’m satisfied, though. Even if I didn’t accomplish much for Mark, I sure got one in there for Kelly.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You remember Kelly complaining about the platinum blonde who gave him the deep freeze when he tried to get in to see Gavin Fletcher?”

  “Oh, you mean ‘frigid butt’?”

  “Yep!” Stella grinned. “She tried to freeze me out but I snubbed her and after I’d finished speaking to Gavin, I stopped at her desk and told her that a friend of mine had asked me to leave a message for a woman he referred to as ‘Ms. Frigid Butt’.”

  “Holy Hannah,” Cam whooped. “You sure are a natural born redhead.”

  Stella smiled and looked smug. “Can we stop at the motel on our way back to the hospital? I’d like to give Mark a call and then I’m sure Gillian would appreciate a break.”

  “We’re on our way.” Cam started the truck and pulled out into the afternoon traffic.

  It was after two when they reached the motel and neither of them had eaten, so while Stella went to the room to try her call to Mark, Cam said he’d walk down the street to pick up a couple of burgers.

  Mark’s switchboard operator said he was on the other line but if Stella would hold, she’d take him a note. “Yes please. I'll wait.” Aft
er several minutes of tapping her nails against the receiver, Mark’s voice asked. “How’d you do?”

  Stella laughed. “I see you’re taking it for granted that I’ve already been there.”

  “Naturally. You and my mother are two of a kind and I know exactly what she’d have done.”

  “What can I say?” She grinned. “Yes, I’ve been to see Mr. Fletcher and you can bet your booty that platinum blonde didn’t keep me out of his office.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing important. Just a score I had to settle for Kelly.”

  “Oh! So did you find out anything?”

  “Well, I did and I didn’t. I really don’t know what I’ve got, so I’ll just repeat the conversation as best I can remember and let you judge for yourself.”

  “Hold on a sec. If you don’t mind I’m going to tape you—that way I can play it for Chris too.”

  “Sure, that’s fine. First, how’s Marcy holding out? Have you been in to see her?”

  “I stop in there at least once a day, sometimes twice. She’s fine. A bit down in the dumps but that’s to be expected.”

  “Poor kid. I wish there was some way we could get her out of there.”

  “I do too, Stella but I’m afraid there isn’t. There’s no bail on a first-degree murder charge. The best thing we can do for her is just what we’re doing now—track down every lead we can find that might lead us to Alex’s killer.”

  “I know. And, Mark, I hope you know how much I appreciate the way you’re sticking in there for Marcy.”

  “Don’t even mention it. I have a confession to make. I fell for that niece of yours like a ton of bricks the minute I laid eyes on her and I sure as hell don’t intend to let the state turn her into a pile of ashes. Now, what about it? Are you ready to go on tape?”

  “Okay. I’ll start with Gavin Fletcher. I don’t think he knows much but he did mention that Alex called him several days ago and wanted some information on record piracy.”