“That’s odd,” I rolled my neck from side to side in an attempt to work out the kinks.
Ernest had come to stare at me. I think he thought he could telepathically direct me to the kitchen and his food dish.
“Why wouldn’t Kenny have done that locally?” I wondered aloud.
“That’s what I thought too.” She stopped for a moment. “Unless he didn’t want the local insurance agent telling tales. He knew Spencer from school and knew he was in insurance.”
“That could be.” I wondered. Could Kenny have seen the opportunity to have his cake and eat it too with Elsie out of the picture and a big check for him and his new honey?
“It seemed suspicious to me,” she said. “I thought maybe you could share the info with Sheriff Griffin. Spencer didn’t want me to. Didn’t think I should get involved. I think the truth is he’s afraid it will look bad if it comes from him. Like he talks about people’s personal business.”
I could kind of see his point, but if I told the sheriff I was pretty sure he would figure out where the information came from. “I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of credibility with him, but I’m happy to try.” I stood. “I assume if they ‘found out’ about this insurance policy that your son would be willing to talk to him.”
“I’m sure he would,” she said. “He wasn’t hiding anything. It was simply no one had asked about it.”
I could hear something ding in the background. “Is that your doorbell?”
“It’s my oven, so I’d better let you go. Talk to you soon.”
I put my phone down on the table and headed to the kitchen. It turned out Ernest was able to telepathically direct me to feed him.
He followed on my heels, meowing his irritation with my slowness to respond.
Getting cat food out of the cupboard and filling his dish, I mulled the idea of sharing the information with the sheriff. It seemed like it should have been Greer’s son’s place to do that, but if a tip would help to find the real killer, I was willing to try.
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning when I left, I glanced next door at Mrs. Pickett’s house. I was going to drop by the office and then head over to the Farmer family’s office to pick up that sponsor list from Minnie.
Dixie and Moto were already there and working when I arrived.
Let me clarify that, Dixie was working and Moto was sleeping. He lifted his head expectantly as I came in the door. I nodded and he trotted over for his treat.
Dixie shook her head. “You spoil him worse than I do.”
“I know, but he’s so darn cute.” I patted his head. “And grateful. Don’t get me wrong, I love Ernest, but he never looks at me like that. Demanding, yes. Grateful, not so much.”
“I have coffee started.” She pointed toward the coffeemaker. “I’m going to try to make up for lost time yesterday.”
“I’ll pour a cup when it’s done.” I got two mugs down from the cupboard. “I have a lot to tell you.”
I carried my things back to the office and went to stand by the coffeemaker. I know, a watched pot and all that, but I was in desperate need of more caffeine.
When the coffee was ready I poured two cups.
“Okay, here’s your fortification.” I handed her one of the cups. “You keep working and I’ll talk.” I pulled up a stool.
I filled her in on the visit from Minnie and what she had told me about overhearing Kenny and Elsie arguing about a divorce. And then my phone call from Greer and the news that Kenny had taken out an insurance policy on Elsie shortly before she died.
“Wow,” Dixie stopped kneading the bread dough she’d been working with. “I would hope that the sheriff’s office would have looked into that possibility, but they’ve been so fixated on Aunt Bertie, maybe not.”
There was a tap at the front door and I got up to see who it was. I’d been so focused on making sure I filled Dixie in on everything I hadn’t thought to unlock it.
It was one of the sheriff’s deputies. A young and serious one. I thought he looked familiar so he might have been there the day I’d found Elsie, but so much of that was a blur. I unlocked the door and let him in.
“You’re Sugar Calloway?” he asked.
“I am.” I nodded. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“That’s okay.” He held up a hand. “I’m on duty.”
I wanted to point out that I hadn’t offered him a beer or a bribe. Just coffee. But he seemed so serious, I held my tongue.
“I’ve been by your house to look at the graffiti and have taken pictures of it for comparison to some of the other vandalism.”
“And?” It hadn’t seemed like the nasty comments were personal but I hoped for confirmation of that.
“We’ll have to take closer look back at the office, but it looks like some of the other spray painting.” His radio mic sputtered. “Anyway, you can go ahead and paint over that now. When I was there your next-door neighbor seemed to think I should. I explained to her we don’t do that.”
“Thank you for taking the time to stop by and let me know.” I followed him to the door.
It was good to know I wasn’t the only one not meeting Mrs. Pickett’s expectations.
“What was that about?” Dixie asked when I returned to the kitchen. “I wanted to come out to see, but this dough was at a critical stage.”
“I hadn’t gotten to that part of my story yet.” I refilled our cups and perched on the stool again.
I explained about coming home to the note from Mrs. Pickett and finding the graffiti on the side of the garage.
“I’d heard there’d been some problems.” She expertly rolled the dough in her hands. “My brother said there had been graffiti sprayed on school buses parked at the middle school.”
“I’d say from the words sprayed on my garage these kids are not fond of school.” I took a sip of my coffee. “I sincerely hope middle school kids don’t know some of these words. But I suppose I’m naïve to think that.”
“I wouldn’t call you naïve exactly.” Dixie grinned. “But you may have been named Rosetta because of those permanent rose-colored glasses you wear.”
Ignoring her comment, I gathered up our cups and carried them to the sink. “I’m going to run out to the Farmers’ offices and pick up that sponsor list from Minnie. Is there anything you need while I’m out?”
“Not that I know of.” She placed the dough in a big bowl and covered it. “I’ll call you if I think of anything.”
“Sounds good.” I retrieved my purse and my keys.
I was halfway to the Farmers’ offices before I remembered I’d forgotten to fill Dixie in on the Looking Pretty makeup party invitation.
Maybe a Freudian slip.
* * * *
I found the Farmer family’s offices without any trouble at all. (Okay, I used my GPS but don’t tell Dixie.) The parking lot was a bit busier than when Dixie and I had come for our early morning meeting with Kenny’s sister. Two of the reserved spots for the family’s cars were filled. Neither car was Kenny’s Cadillac.
I parked in the visitor area and then went inside. It was the same receptionist and I let her know I was there to see Minnie.
“She’s out on an errand but should be right back,” she explained. “If you’d like to have a seat, I’m sure she won’t be long.”
“No problem.” I settled into one of the chairs in a corner of the waiting room. I pulled out my phone and tapped on my notes app. Looking through where we were and what we still had to get done, I saw we were in pretty good shape, given all that had transpired. I saw at the bottom of my list a note to follow up with a couple of other groups that had expressed an interest in a cookbook project. I needed to do that in the next couple of days. If they were sincerely interested, they might move on to someone else if they didn’t hear. And we needed to move directly to the next
project once we were done with this one.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” A young man tossed a piece of paper on his co-worker’s desk.
“What did she tell you to do?” The girl looked up.
“She said, and I quote, ‘No more. We are done paying for my brother’s lavish lifestyle. He can pay his own bills.’”
“Then I guess you have your answer. Don’t pay it.” The girl went back to her computer screen.
I shrunk a little further into my chair. I didn’t think Karla Farmer would be happy one of her employees was quoting her where anyone who walked in could hear.
I few minutes late, Minnie came through the outside door and spotted me. “Oh, hello. I have that list of sponsors for you. Follow me.”
I followed her. As she walked past, the agitated young man from earlier handed her a file and said, “Karla said no more expenses for Kenny. He’s cut off.”
She frowned at him but took the folder. Once back at her desk, which was just outside Kenny’s office, she retrieved an envelope from a drawer and handed it to me.
“Here, you go, all the sponsors.” She dropped into her chair. “Sorry for the confusion yesterday. Harriet was not clear about what you needed.”
“No problem at all.” I hesitated.
Her desk phone rang and she quickly picked it up. “Hello, Tina. No, he is not in and I don’t know when to expect him.” She listened for a few more minutes. “He’s been through a lot lately, so I don’t know when he’ll be ready to start looking at houses again.” She paused. “Or if he will. Good-bye.”
Minnie hung up the phone and looked at me expectantly.
Flustered to be caught to blatantly eavesdropping, I said I’d see her at the next committee meeting and hurried out.
* * * *
Back at the office, I shared what I’d overheard with Dixie.
“I think we’d better tell the sheriff what we know.” We should have probably come clean before now, but there was nothing to be gained by waiting.
Dixie was silent. I was sure she was weighing the options. I waited.
“Okay, let’s get it over with then.” She tossed the apron she’d been about to put on toward one of the stools.
“You could go and I could stay here,” I suggested. “We don’t both need to go.”
“No way,” She picked up her purse, “This is your idea, you heard the conversation, you’re coming.”
The Jameson County Sheriff’s Office was at the edge of town. I think the northern edge, but don’t hold me to that. Dixie drove since she knew where it was and we were there in an all too short five minutes.
When we walked in the door we were greeted by a young uniformed deputy who stood behind a long faux marble counter.
“Can I help you, ma’am?”
Man, I hate that. It makes me feel so old. I know it’s very polite and all, and I should be happy about that, but I don’t think of myself as being a ma’am.
“Hi, Butch.” Dixie leaned on the counter. “We’re here to see the sheriff. Is he in?”
“I can check.” Which I was almost certain meant he needed to find out if the sheriff wanted to see us or not. “What are your names?”
“Dixie Spicer and Sugar Calloway.”
He disappeared and I turned to Dixie. “You really do know everyone in town, don’t you?”
“Not everyone.” She grinned. “He’s the younger brother of someone I went to high school with. Quite a lot younger if I remember right. Always wanted to be a cop since he was little.”
“Ms. Spicer, Ms. Calloway.” Butch was back. “The sheriff will see you now.”
He opened a door that led down a hallway to a big corner office. Sheriff Griffin sat behind a large oak desk, a serious expression on his face.
“Good morning.” He didn’t smile. “Can I offer you a coffee?”
I started to accept but Dixie said, “Never mind the pleasantries, Terry.”
“Okay, Dixie, have it your way.”
Why did I think there was a double meaning to that statement?
“We need to tell you a couple of things.” Dixie took a deep breath. “I assume now that my aunt is back in town and has explained her absence that she’s not longer your prime suspect?”
“Bertie is back, but I can’t say she has explained where she went and why.” His mouth was a thin grim line. “Your aunt has been very uncooperative. Which makes me think she has something to hide.”
“Think what you want.”
“Bertie doesn’t really have a motive though, does she?” I asked. “I mean being upset over a scone recipe isn’t a murder motive, right?”
The sheriff nodded. “You said you needed to tell me a couple of things.” He looked at Dixie, his jaw tight.
She looked at me.
“The night we talked to you, when we were parking on Kenny Farmer’s street,” I began, “we started to leave but just then Kenny got in his car.”
“And we kind of followed him,” Dixie finished my sentence.
“You kind of followed him where?” He gave her a hard look.
“To a motel in Churchville.” Dixie didn’t look away.
“The Weary Wanderer Motel,” I added.
“Sugar had seen him with someone at Elsie’s funeral and we thought he was probably meeting her at the motel.”
“But he left, uhm, really quickly. Really quickly,” I repeated.
The sheriff crossed his arms. “And…”
“And after he left we knocked on the door of the motel room and a guy answered and claimed Kenny had never been there.” Dixie crossed her own arms as well.
“Good grief!” the sheriff exploded. “What in the Sam Hill did you think you were doing? He could have been armed. He could have had a knife.”
One of the deputies stopped by the door. The sheriff walked over and slammed it shut.
“He didn’t have a knife but he did have a knife tattoo,” I explained as the sheriff paced back and forth from one side of the office to the other. “Right here.” I pointed at my forearm but the sheriff wasn’t looking.
We waited for him to calm down and stop pacing. He showed great restraint. I think he really would’ve liked to punch the wall.
Finally, he dropped into his swivel chair and looked at us. “Please tell me there’s not more.”
“There a lot more,” Dixie said evenly. “Tell him about seeing the guy at Disco’s store.”
I recounted seeing the guy from the motel at Flashback and explained that Disco didn’t get a name or phone number. “I saw the van pull away, but I didn’t get a license number. I’m sorry about that.”
“Disco said the guy was mostly interested in what Kenny had been selling of Elsie’s,” Dixie added.
“Also, I think it’s worth mentioning that we’ve heard Kenny had asked Elsie for a divorce and the discussion had not gone well.”
“Who shared that little tidbit?” The sheriff leaned back.
“Do I have to tell him?” I asked Dixie.
“Up to you.” She shrugged.
“I don’t really want you questioning her,” I explained. “She’ll know I was the one who told you.”
“Minnie Silberhorn?” he asked.
“How did you do that?” I’d been sure there were a lot of possibilities on who could have shared the gossip but he’d zeroed in on Minnie right away.
“Stands to reason.” He tipped back in his chair. “She’s got access to all that goes on, given her job.”
“She does,” I agreed. “And though she’s convinced Kenny would never do anything so awful, I think she’s a bit naïve.”
“I won’t tell her I heard it from you.” He rocked forward and placed his arms on the desk. “Unless I have to. I’m surprised she’d say anything bad about Kenny, though. She’s been a dev
oted employee for years. Sticks up for him whether he deserves it or not.”
“I don’t think she thought she was saying anything bad about him. I think she was trying to get me to understand that Elsie was not…well liked. And that there were any number of people who are happy they don’t have to deal with her anymore.”
“That part’s true. But it’s a long way from murder.”
“That’s exactly what I said to Minnie. You don’t think she’s in danger, do you?”
He didn’t answer right away. “No, I don’t.”
“Then today when I was at the Farmer family’s offices—” I began.
“Did you follow someone there, or just decide to go question someone?” The sheriff’s dark eyes snapped.
“I went there to pick up a paper from Minnie related to the cookbook project, but while I was there I overheard talk between some of the employees that Karla, Kenny’s sister, had cut him off financially.”
“So, there you have it.” Dixie spread out her hands. “Everything we know.”
“I sincerely hope that’s everything.” He leaned forward. “You are not to do anything else. You are not to ask any questions. If you see that van,” he looked at me, “you jot down the license number, you call me, you do not approach it. You do not talk to this guy that you’ve seen. You walk the other way.”
“And…” He took a breath. “If you can get your aunt to give up the information and where she was and why, that’d be helpful. I’d like to eliminate her. I really would. But bottom line, she’s not helping much.”
“There was one more thing.” I’d forgotten to mention the employee that’d been fired. “I was told that Elsie had been responsible for the firing of an employee, Joey Waters, who backed into her Cadillac. I’ve been told he sort of went downhill after that and that his mother had threatened Elsie.”
“We’ve already talked to Teresa Waters.” He stood. “Anything else?”
“No, I think that about covers it.” I met his gaze.
Dixie was staring at a spot across the room.
Game of Scones Page 15
