Murder at the Big T Lodge: A Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery

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Murder at the Big T Lodge: A Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery Page 9

by Dianne Harman


  “How has she been as an employee?”

  “She does what I tell her, and that’s really all I expected from anyone I hired. I didn’t plan on my assistant coming up with gourmet creations. She does her job well enough that it frees me to be creative, which is what I wanted.”

  “What do you know about her personal life?” Liz asked.

  “Not much. We don’t have the kind of relationship where we tell each other what we did the night before or things like that. It’s pretty much a straight up business relationship. I don’t think she’s ever taken a sick day or missed work because of personal reasons.”

  “Evidently she’s a widow and has two children. Do you know anything about her deceased husband or her children?”

  “No. Wait a minute. I did have each of the people who applied for the job fill out an application. There’s a large pantry behind the kitchen, and my desk is located there. I’ll be back in just a moment.”

  He returned with a completed job application form in his hand. He sat down and looked at it. “It looks like her husband’s name was Paul Sowers, and she has two grown children by the names of Megan and Chris. Hmmm, this is interesting. On her application she wrote that her husband was deceased. For some reason, I thought she was divorced. Guess not.”

  “Did she write anything of a personal nature?”

  “Not a thing. That’s it, sum and total. There’s nothing on it other than her work background and things like her address, etc.”

  “May I see it? I think I’ll check out her address. I want to go to town and see if the woman who works at the FedEx, Cindy Lou, knows anything about her.”

  “Sure,” he said, handing the application to her. She took it from him and wrote down the address.

  “Liz, while we’ve been talking I’ve also been thinking, and quite frankly, I’m not sure how I feel about what I’m thinking.”

  “I’m sorry, Wes, but that makes absolutely no sense to me. Can you spell it out for me?”

  He stood up and started pacing back and forth. “I could lose my job over this, but I know where the master key is to all the guest rooms. I don’t know how you’re going to find out who did this, but maybe there’s some evidence in one of the suspects’ rooms. What do you think?”

  She looked at him incredulously. “You’re asking me if I want to go into the rooms of the various different possible suspects and search them without their permission? Do you know what could happen to me if anyone finds out? I don’t want to even think what Roger might say about this.”

  “Roger wouldn’t need to know, and if you don’t want to do it, I completely understand. I just thought it was a way for you to possibly get more information.”

  “I may regret this the rest of my life, but I think I would like to do it. I probably better do it right now if I’m going to do it, or I’ll lose my nerve. Anyway, everyone’s gone, so it probably is the best time. Are you coming with me?”

  “I know this sounds like an excuse, but I really do need get things ready for dinner. I’m afraid you’re on your own for this.”

  “Thanks,” she said sarcastically. “I guess I’m the fall guy here. What time do you expect Cassie back?”

  “She should be here within the hour. She’s here for breakfast, and then she’s off for several hours. She returns in the afternoon to help with dinner. I believe I mentioned to you she’s quite religious. I think she spends her time off at church.”

  “Actually, that will work out well. I’ll go up to the rooms now and then drive into Riley. I’d like to drive by Cassie’s house and get a sense of it after I talk to Cindy Lou. Show me where the key is. By the way, do you have any plastic gloves? And if not, plastic wrap will do fine. I don’t want to leave any fingerprints, although from what I’ve seen, I don’t think anyone around here has fingerprinting equipment.”

  “Let’s hope it never comes to that,” Wes said motioning for Liz to follow him. They walked into the pantry, and he pointed to the wall where a key on a chain hung from a peg. “Stay here while I get the plastic gloves for you. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Hurry up, Wes, or I’m going to lose my nerve.”

  A few moments later Wes returned with the gloves. “Good luck. Let me know what happens.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen. I want to find evidence that someone murdered Milt. One last thing, if someone comes back early could you do something to alert me?”

  “Sure. I’ll take a large metal bowl and drop it on the floor. That should make enough noise that you’ll be able to hear it. With everyone gone it’s pretty quiet here. Okay?”

  “Yes. Wish me luck,” she said as she put on the gloves and took the key from him. “Glad that Jack has the name of each guest posted next to their room. At least I won’t have to waste time trying to figure out who’s in which room.”

  “Well, as they say on Broadway, break a leg,” Wes said.

  CHAPTER 26

  As soon as Liz walked out of the kitchen she was joined by Sam. She looked around the downstairs portion of the lodge to make sure no one had returned unexpectedly from the hunt. Not seeing anyone, she breathed a sigh of relief knowing she had the whole upstairs to herself on this, her first-ever time of committing the crime of breaking and entering.

  She wasn’t sure what she should even look for. Since there wasn’t a murder weapon, per se, she decided to look for anything that could relate to Milt. The first room she entered was Amanda and Emilio’s. It was perfectly clean as Jack had two cleaning ladies come in each morning as soon as the guests left for the duck hunt. The rooms were clean by the time they returned from the hunt.

  Liz looked through the closet and glanced through their suitcases. She didn’t find anything, nor was there anything in the bathroom. If Amanda had been having an affair with Milt, Liz doubted there would be anything about him in Amanda’s personal items. She gingerly went through Emilio’s briefcase and found only items relating to the vineyard and winery he owned in Italy. She looked at her watch and realized she’d used up fifteen minutes of the hour before Cassie was to come back to the lodge. Although there was no reason for Cassie to come upstairs, she knew she’d feel better if she could finish her search before Cassie returned.

  The next room she entered was Mickey Roberts’ room. There were a number of papers on the table that served as a desk. She began to go through them and realized she was looking at the campaign timetable for Mickey and how he planned to spend the next few months. His laptop computer was on the table, and she opened it. It immediately booted up, needing no password. What popped up on the screen was an email from a man she presumed was his campaign chairman, Rick, evidently the man Mickey had called the previous day regarding Milt’s death.

  In his email Rick indicated he hadn’t found anyone in Sacramento who had heard of Milt’s death, but that he’d been able to hire a number of the top campaign workers as well as the campaign consultant that Milt had used for his previous campaigns. Rick said all of them would need proof of Milt’s death, but if it was true, they were ready to go forward with his campaign for governor. He ended by saying it looked like the campaign would be a slam dunk for Mickey, and now they wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else having the political clout or the money to seriously oppose Mickey.

  None of that particularly surprised Liz based on the phone conversation she’d overheard him have with Rick. He remained a top suspect in her mind for two reasons. First, with Milt dead, he was in a very good position to be the next governor of California. Secondly was the disturbing thought that if Mickey was the one who killed Milt, he would know that Milt was dead, which meant he’d never overheard Jack asking his guide to call the lodge to see if Milt’s body had been removed by the mortuary. Since Wes had told her he’d never received such a call, although it wouldn’t stand up in a court of law, to her it seemed that Mickey easily could have been the murderer.

  Liz quickly went through the stack of papers on the table. About halfway down were a numbe
r of articles about Milt as well as a printout of the dates that Milt was to be at the lodge. Once again, while it wasn’t proof that Mickey was the killer, it was one more thing that pointed in that direction. She wished she could find the tipping point. The rest of her search was fruitless, so she walked down the hall to the third and last of the suspects’ rooms, that of Mac Ward.

  Liz and Sam quickly entered the room, closing the door behind them. She spent several minutes looking through his clothes and other personal effects. She found nothing. She opened the drawer of the table that also served as a desk and saw an iPad in it. She pulled it out and turned it on. There was a long email from a man who she assumed, based on the content, was a tobacco farmer. She scanned it and saw that it was about an article the man had seen in a North Carolina paper regarding Milt’s proposed cigarette tax increase.

  The man was extremely upset, saying that it could be the beginning of the end of tobacco farming. He concluded his email by telling Mac he hoped Mac would take the steps necessary to do whatever needed to be done to stop Milt from having the legislation enacted. She heard a car door slam and looked out the window. Cassie had returned. Liz put the iPad back in the drawer, quickly left the room, and rapidly walked down the hall to her suite, her heart pounding. After she was safely in it, she took several deep breaths to calm herself. She sensed Sam’s concern and patted him on the head, “It’s okay Sam. We made it just in time.”

  Well, from what I found it looks like either Mickey or Mac could have been the murderer. I certainly saw nothing that would indicate Amanda or Emilio had anything to do with it. She looked at her watch. Perfect, I have just enough time to drive to town and get back before Roger returns from the afternoon quail hunt.

  Liz walked downstairs with Sam at her side and knocked on the kitchen door. Wes opened the door. “Wes, Sam and I are going into town. We should be back before the hunters return. See you later.” He had an inquiring look on his face. Without saying a word, she handed him the key and gave him a thumbs up.

  CHAPTER 27

  When Liz got to Riley, she noticed a small building with the words “The Riley Restaurant” printed on the front window. She assumed this was the little diner Wes had told her about, the one where Cassie had worked before he’d hired her. Liz had a hard time imagining the small little building being a restaurant and was surprised that whoever owned it hadn’t just called it The Riley Diner.

  I’d really like to go in there and see what the restaurant is like, but I don’t have time if I’m going to get back before Roger and the rest of the hunters return to the lodge. He gives me pretty free rein when I’m involved in things like this, but I don’t want to push my luck. I definitely don’t think he’d approve of my room investigation.

  She parked in front of the FedEx office and walked in, the overhead bell ringing. Once again, she was the only customer in the office. Cindy Lou heard the bell announcing the arrival of a customer and walked through the curtain that separated the back room from the office.

  “Well, what a surprise! You bein’ here two days in a row. Got another bottle of somethin’ you want to spend your money shippin’ somewhere?” she asked laughing. “Busts me up every time I think ‘bout hard-earned money used to ship a bottle of juice by FedEx, but guess the customer is always right. Leastways, that’s what I’ve been tol’. What can I do fer ya’ today, darlin’?”

  “I’m not shipping anything today, Cindy Lou, but I have a question for you. You told me if I needed to know anything I should talk to you, because you know pretty much everyone around here. I’m curious about a woman who works at the hunting lodge named Cassie Sowers. Can you tell me anything about her?”

  “Maybe I can, and maybe I can’t. Why do ya’ wanna know?”

  Okay, Liz thought, don’t really like to do this, but I have a feeling I’m being told she might tell me something if I offer her money. She hasn’t said anything, but my niggle is up, and that’s what it’s telling me. Liz opened her purse, took out a $50.00 bill, and laid it on the counter.

  Cindy Lou looked at the money with a shrewd look in her eyes. “It must be important to you, if yer’ willin’ to spend a Uly on it. Don’t see too many of them hereabouts.”

  “It is, and I am,” Liz said, pushing the $50.00 bill with the face of Ulysses S. Grant on it across the counter. Cindy Lou appeared to be having a war of ethics waging within her, but she finally took the bill, folded it up, and put it down the front of the checkered red and white blouse she wore.

  “Okay, now that we got that lil’ chore outta’ the way, what do ya’ want to know ‘bout Cassie?”

  “Anything you can tell me. I’m particularly interested in her husband Paul. How did he die? He must have been very young.”

  Cindy Lou didn’t say anything for a few moments, and then she began to speak, “Kinda go fer the meat, don’t ya’, girl?”

  “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “Lots of what I’m gonna tell ya’ is rumor. Seems like Paul had himself a lil’ chicken on the side, if ya’ know what I mean. Heard the lil’ chicken done come up with an egg in her one day that was gonna be hatched in a few months. Cassie heard ‘bout it and danged if Paul didn’t up and die in his sleep. Then a funny thing happened. Chicken died in her sleep, too. Lotta folks around here thought it were some kinda weird coincidence, I can tell ya’ that, but weren’t no signs of foul play or nuthin’, so the sheriff said it was just a strange happenin’.”

  “I’d say that’s a very strange happening,” Liz said.

  “Think one of the things that saved Cassie was that she got religion right after that. I mean I ain’t never seen no one get religion like that girl did.”

  “In what way?” Liz asked.

  “Well, she told people God visited her right after ‘the incident’ as she called it. There’s a little fundamentalist church right outside of town, and she started attendin’ it. Actually, that’s not the right word. She pretty much lived there when she weren’t workin’ at The Riley Restaurant or at home with her kids. When they finished high school they moved out and went to El Paso. Cassie did whatever Reverend Benson wanted her to do, and it seems like Billy Bob kept her right busy. From what I hear she still spends most of her time there, and it’s been quite a few years now. Her kids are long gone, so yeah, it’s been a long spell since it all happened.”

  “Cindy Lou, this may sound like a strange question, but do you have any idea how Cassie feels about abortion?”

  “Don’t take one of ‘em Rhodesian scholars or whatever they call ‘em to answer that question. All you gotta do is go out to her house and take a look-see through her windows. Ever bit of wall space in that dang house is covered with posters protestin’ abortions. Matter of fact, every time one of them abortion doctors gets hisself shot and killed, she makes copies of the newspaper article and passes it out to people. Guess that all comes with her gettin’ religion.”

  “Thanks Cindy Lou. I really appreciate the information. I’d like to ask a favor of you.”

  “Shoot, darlin’.”

  “I’d appreciate it you would keep this conversation just between the two of us. Could you promise me that?”

  “Sure. That’s the least I can do when somebody gives me a Uly. You and I ain’t never had this conversation.”

  “Thanks again. By the way, Cassie’s house sounds pretty interesting. Where does she live?” Liz asked.

  “Take the main road out of town in the other direction from where you came in and follow it down ‘bout three miles. You’ll see a mailbox with a straggly rose planted next to it and Cassie’s name on the mailbox. Turn into the lane, and within a few yards you’ll be there. Gotta tell ya’ it’s a far cry from where yer’ stayin’.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Jes’ go out there and see fer yerself. Her old house looks like the flip side of a coin from The Big T Lodge. Jes’ be a little careful. If’n Lex, that pit bull she has, ain’t chained up, probably don’t wanna go in her yard. Co
upla people still have scars from that cur. Ya’ be careful.”

  “Thanks, I will. I have a healthy respect for dogs off leash,” Liz said as she walked out the door and got into the hunt club’s car.

  She turned to Sam and said, “I want you to stay in the car and behave yourself if you see Cassie’s dog. If the dog is off leash, I’ll be staying in the car with you.”

  CHAPTER 28

  As she began the drive to Cassie’s house, Liz checked her odometer. When it showed she’d gone three miles she saw a mailbox with a scraggly rose bush next to it. She slowed down and checked the name on the box. Just as Cindy Lou had said, the mail box was Cassie’s. She turned into a gravel lane and was glad she’d seen Cassie go into the lodge earlier, so Liz knew she wasn’t home.

  Liz saw a house up ahead about fifty yards. Cindy Lou hadn’t been kidding. The front yard, if one could call it that, was covered with brown stubble. If there had ever been grass, it had been replaced by weeds long ago. The small brick house had been severely neglected. Paint was peeling off of the front door and shutters. The two steps which led up to the front door were badly cracked and had weeds growing out of them.

  She stopped the car and rolled down the window. Liz heard the sound of a large dog barking furiously, but she didn’t see one at the fence at the rear of the house. She gingerly got out of the car and walked over to the fence. The barking seemed to be coming from a small detached garage next to the house.

  Whew, she thought, Cassie must have locked the dog up in the garage. She looked around to see if there was anyone nearby. Satisfied she was alone, she walked over to the front window and looked in. She gasped with astonishment. Every square inch of wall space was plastered with posters such as “Save Our Children” and “A Fetus Is a Living Thing,” but what really caused her concern was the large poster behind the couch in the living room. Evidently Cassie had taken a photo of Milt Huston and had it enlarged. White concentric rings had been painted on Milt’s upper torso with a red bull’s eye over the center of his chest. Liz was mesmerized and frightened, both at the same time, as she stared through the window at the bizarre scene in front of her.

 

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