by Casey Mayes
“What did he say?”
“He told her, ‘You’ll live to regret it. I can promise you that.’ You know Greg; he’s usually full of harmless bluster, but he didn’t sound harmless that night. It might bear looking into.”
“Sounds good. I’ll talk to him first,” I said.
“Hang on a second, Savannah. I’m not sending you out into the world with this information to confront someone who might be a killer. You need to tell your husband and let him handle it.”
“I can question Greg myself,” I said. Sometimes Rob had the idea that women were delicate flowers, and I did everything in my power to dissuade him of that belief whenever I could. I was a grown woman, perfectly capable of handling just about anything that came my way.
“At least take him with you,” my friend insisted. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you because of what I said.”
“Rob, are we going to have to have that conversation again?”
“Woman, I’m not kidding here,” he said, his face screwed into a frown. “If Greg did get rid of Joanne, facing him alone would be the worst thing in the world that you could do. If you won’t ask your husband to speak with him, or even go with you, then I’m begging you to at least take me. Between the two of us, we might be able to handle him if things go wrong.”
I was tired of being sheltered. It was time to deflect Rob’s attention to something else. “He wasn’t even in Asheville today,” I said.
“That you know of. The very least we need to do is get an alibi for the man. If we can cross him off the list, so much the better.”
I bit my upper lip. “I see your point, but we can’t exactly walk up to him and ask him, can we?”
Rob smiled. “We can do just that, if we handle it properly. In the meantime, let’s get back to the list.”
I studied the last name he’d written there. “What could Hannah Reed have against Joanne? I’ve never even heard the woman raise her voice in public, so it’s hard for me to wrap my mind around the idea that she could possibly commit murder.”
“From the books I’ve read on the subject, there are times when the least likely suspect is the one guilty of the crime.”
“Are we talking fiction or nonfiction?” I asked. “I’m not sure mysteries should count as true research on how the criminal mind works.”
“And why not? Many of the novels I’ve read are closer to the way the world actually works than the best true crime books.”
I wasn’t about to argue the point with him. “Okay, but that still doesn’t give Hannah a reason to kill Joanne.”
“There is a good one. I just haven’t told you what it is yet.”
I waited for him to provide the missing information, but when he wasn’t forthcoming, I asked, “Are you going to tell me at some point, or do I just have to keep guessing until I stumble across Hannah’s motive on my own?”
“I honestly don’t know if I should share this with anyone, including you,” he said. “Before I say one more word, I’m going to have to get someone else’s permission.”
“Not Hannah’s, I hope.”
He shrugged without committing to an answer one way or the other. “Let’s just leave her name up there for now. If I can get the go-ahead, I’ll tell you her motive later.”
I scowled at him. “How am I supposed to figure out if she killed Joanne or not if I don’t know what her motive could be?”
Rob said softly, “Easy there, Savannah. I realize that you’re under a lot of strain at the moment, but we don’t need the motive for now; not if she’s lacking the opportunity.”
It was time to give up that particular line of reasoning, since it wasn’t likely that I would get anything more out of Rob about Hannah.
I stared at the list, and then asked him, “Is that it?”
“Off the top of my head, I’d say yes. I have to do a little digging, so I’m not ready to say that the list is finished by any stretch of the imagination.”
“There’s one other name that’s not up there,” I said somberly.
“I know you didn’t kill her,” Rob said, the closest his voice had ever gotten to angry in my presence before.
“It’s not my name I’m talking about,” I said.
“Then I’m waiting to be enlightened.”
“I’ll tell you, but you might not believe me.”
He handed me the chalk as he said, “I don’t need to believe you; at least not yet. Just knowing that it’s possible is enough for me for the moment.”
I took the piece of chalk from him and wrote down a name.
He looked at it, and then stared at me. “Is that some kind of joke, Savannah?”
“No, I actually think it’s possible,” I answered.
“Explain yourself,” he said. “There were a great many things Joanne Clayton was capable of doing, but I wouldn’t think poisoning herself was one of them. She wasn’t the suicide type.”
“IT’S POSSIBLE,” I SAID AS I PUT THE chalk back on the desk after writing the murder victim’s name on the board. “She had access to her tea when she was by herself. I haven’t heard what she was poisoned with, but it could be something she was able to get ahold of.”
“That doesn’t mean she killed herself,” Rob said.
“No, but when we were together at the café, Joanne knocked my bag over and spilled everything onto the ground. I thought it was odd at the time that she didn’t help me pick anything up, especially since she was the one who’d made the mess in the first place, but when I sat back up, I noticed my tea cup was askew.”
“Are you implying that she was trying to poison you, and mixed up the cups by accident? That’s a little far-fetched, wouldn’t you say?”
“Rob,” I said, “I can’t think of a reason in the world she would want to kill me.”
“Is that true? Are you saying that there was no motive for her to get rid of you?”
I thought about the puzzle Joanne had published, and the unlikely idea that she’d tried to eliminate her competition, but I found it too ludicrous to voice. “I’m just saying she could have nudged it when she was poisoning her own tea.”
He shook his head. “It’s entirely more likely that she’d poison the three of you for spite before she’d ever dream of killing herself.”
“Fine. I just thought I’d throw it out there.”
I started to erase her name when he said, “Hold on. There’s no reason to be rash about it. I’ll ask around about that, too.”
“You can’t do everything by yourself,” I said. “This is my investigation, and I’m not about to sit back and let you do all of the work.”
“Funny, I thought the police were running an inquiry of their own,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.
“They can do what they want, but I’m going to ask questions, too,” I said flatly. I wasn’t going to let him try to charm me out of doing some digging on my own. I wasn’t wired that way. When something needed to be done, I did it, with no apologies and no excuses.
“You ask the questions,” he agreed, “but there’s a good chance that unless I go with you, no one’s going to answer any of them.”
I knew he was right, though I didn’t want to admit it. “When can we get started?”
He looked at the clock on the wall. “We close in ten minutes. Can you wait that long?”
“I suppose I can,” I answered.
“Good enough.”
As he got up, I asked, “Is there anything I can do right now while you’re waiting around to close?”
“Savannah, if a broom fits your hand, I wouldn’t mind you sweeping up around the place,” he said.
I thought he was most likely kidding, but I decided that would be exactly what I would do. I knew myself well enough to know that otherwise I’d just sit there and fret, so why not do something productive in the meantime?
When I grabbed a broom once we were out front, it clearly confused Lee. “Hey, boss, is she working here now, too?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her,” Rob said, as dead serious as he could be.
“Well, are you?” Lee asked me pointedly.
“For the moment,” I said.
He apparently didn’t like my answer. “What does that mean? I’m still the senior clerk around here.”
Was he seriously concerned about sharing a workspace with me? I looked at the clock over the register and saw that we had three minutes to go before Rob locked up. “Tell you what. I’ll leave when you do.”
“That’s fine, because I’m not going anywhere,” he said, the resolve strong in his voice.
“Not even at six?” I asked.
“Do you mean today?”
I smiled as brightly as I could at him. “That’s right. I’m what you’d call a temporary, seasonal, part-time employee.”
He caught my smile, and then said, “Well, that’s all right then. I understand now.”
“Do you?” Rob asked. “Then would you mind explaining it to me?”
That just served to confuse the young man even more. “Is there a joke going on here that I’m not getting?”
“If there is, it probably isn’t very funny,” I said. “I’m just pitching in for a minute today, and then I’m finished and off the payroll. As far as I’m concerned, your job here is safe.”
“It’s not up to you though, is it?” he asked with a grin.
“You can come back tomorrow, Lee,” Rob said. “After that, we’ll see.”
“That’s good enough for me.”
At six on the nose, Lee couldn’t get out of the hardware store fast enough.
I turned to Rob as he was balancing out his cash register. “That wasn’t very nice of me, was it?”
“Lee’s a little too young and a little too earnest to get the full range of your humor, Savannah. He’s a good kid, don’t get me wrong, but he’s got some seasoning to do first.”
I smiled at him. “I’m not sure if you’re complimenting me, or if that’s meant to be an insult.”
“I suppose some things in this life must remain a mystery to us all,” he said with a slight smile.
A minute after I finished sweeping the floor, Rob looked up from the stack of cash on the counter and the register tape. “Good, it balances out on the first try. Lee is coming along nicely.”
“Do you have big plans for him?”
“Are you kidding? Someday I’m hoping he’ll take over so I can spend my days fishing.”
I thought about saying something, and then decided to hold my tongue. After all, it wasn’t any of my business.
Rob caught my hesitation, though. In some ways, he was just as sharp as my husband was. “What were you going to say, Savannah?”
“It might not hurt to tell him your plans, if you’re serious about it. He seems a little jumpy about his job, if you ask me.”
“I appreciate your advice, and I’ll give it every consideration it deserves,” he said with a smile.
I matched his smile as I said, “In other words, butt out of something that’s none of my business.”
“Your way is more succinct than mine, but not nearly as elegant. Now, if we’re done with our bantering, let’s go do a little digging in Parson’s Valley and see what we can uncover.”
Chapter 6
“DO YOU HAVE A SECOND?” ROB ASKED GREG LINCOLN AS we walked into his barbershop. There wasn’t a soul in any of the waiting seats, or the two barber chairs near the long mirror in front. The floor was clean swept, an apron was draped on one side of one chair, and the other cutting area was completely vacant. Though the shop had, at one time, housed two men, Greg was now literally the only barber in town, and I was sure he grew tired of folks asking him who cut his hair, or if he managed it himself in the mirror.
“Sorry, my appointment book is all full at the moment,” he said with a smile as he leaned against the wall. Greg was in his early forties, and I’d heard Zach say that he’d bought the place from his dad when he retired, at a steep interest rate. If Greg minded, he didn’t seem to show it. He looked as at home there as if he’d had a pipe, a robe, and slippers.
“Try to fit me in anyway,” Rob said, matching the light mood of the moment. He turned to me and said, “You know Savannah Stone, don’t you?”
He nodded in my direction. “I’ve seen you around town. You’re married to Zach, aren’t you?”
“Guilty as charged,” I said with a little of the humor my husband liked, though I realized as soon as I said it that it might not be appropriate at that exact moment. I wondered how long this playful bantering was going to last, and Rob’s next question took care of that nicely. “What were you and Joanne Clayton arguing about the other night out on the street?”
Greg looked guarded, but not surprised, as he answered, “What are you talking about? I didn’t have an argument with her.”
“Save it, buddy. I saw it myself,” Rob said. From the abrupt tone he was now using, it was clear there was no doubt in his mind about what he’d seen.
After a moment of thought, Greg finally gave in. “We never argued. Joanne might have raised her voice a time or two when we discussed things, but it was all innocent enough. Why does it concern you, anyway?” He looked a little more intently at Rob. “When did you start spying on me?”
Rob shook his head. “I wasn’t spying. I was out walking around town and I saw you two together. I heard you threaten her, Greg.”
The barber looked uncomfortable now. “I didn’t mean it, and she knew it. You know how Joanne can be. You’ve known her longer than I have. Sometimes she says things just to get a reaction from folks.” Greg sat up straight and asked, “Has she been spreading rumors about me in town, Rob? Let’s get her over here right now. I’m certain she’ll tell you I didn’t mean anything by it. We’re on good terms, generally. We just had an off night, that’s all.”
“Are you trying to say that you two were in love, Greg?”
“I’m not saying anything of the sort.” He looked a little dumbfounded by the question, as if he were searching for the underlying joke attached to it. When he saw Rob was serious, he asked, “What’s gotten into you? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You hid it well, but you weren’t able to fool everyone in town,” Rob said. For the moment, they were both ignoring me, which was fine with me. I could get a lot more out of their conversation if I wasn’t actually a part of it.
“I don’t know where this is coming from,” Greg said, still holding on to his denial. “I suppose I like her well enough, but love might be a little strong to describe how I feel about her.” He narrowed his eyes as he asked, “Why, did she say that I loved her?”
This had gone on long enough. The pathetic look in his eyes when he asked the last question was too much to take.
I was about to tell him the truth when Rob said bluntly, “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but she’s dead, Greg.” I studied the barber closely as he reacted to the news.
“That’s not funny, Rob,” he said, clearly choosing to discount the news. “If you think you’re being amusing, you’re really not, and I’d appreciate it if you’d just drop it.”
“Ask her. She was there when it happened,” he said as he pointed to me.
That wasn’t exactly true, but it was close enough. “I’m terribly sorry,” I answered. “She died today in Asheville.”
It was horrifying to see the transition in his face. The whisper of a smile had been replaced suddenly with open shock.
“You should sit down,” I said.
“Maybe you’re right.” Instead of taking one of the waiting seats, he slumped into his own barber chair. “It’s really true? When did it happen?”
“This afternoon,” I said. “Have you been cutting hair all day?”
It was almost as if he hadn’t heard me. “I just can’t believe it. Not Joanne. It’s not real.”
“She asked you a question, Greg.” Rob had an edge of steel in his voice now; there was no disguisi
ng it. “Have you been here all day?”
“Of course I have.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you didn’t even take a lunch break?” Rob asked him.
“Come on, Rob, you’ve sat in my chair long enough to know that I’ve shut down from eleven until noon every day the shop has been open since my dad started running the place.”
I figured that would give him a decent alibi, if it were true. I’d once made it to Asheville from Parson’s Valley in twenty-eight minutes by hitting every green light between and pushing it a little too fast on the interstate, but it was certainly nothing that could be counted on. When the parking situation in Asheville was figured into the equation, even with a nearby open garage to tuck a car in, I didn’t see how he could have killed Joanne in the allotted time unless he’d been very, very lucky.
“That’s good to know,” Rob said, his voice easing up a little.
It was time for me to get involved in the conversation. “Greg, do you know of anyone in town who might have had a grudge against Joanne?”
He looked down at his hands, and then asked me softly, “Do you mean besides you?”
“Pardon me?”
He looked at me critically as he said, “She showed me her puzzle, Savannah. Joanne told me that she was going to take every newspaper you were syndicated to away from you. We both know that she was doing her very best to ruin you, and Joanne just about always got what she set her mind to.”
“She had one paper that doesn’t even count,” I said loudly. “It was no motive for murder.”
Rob butted in and asked, “You’ve said your piece about Savannah. What we want to know is, was there anyone else?”
Greg frowned for a few seconds, and then said, “I know she could be abrasive at times. Most people around Parson’s Valley didn’t see the softer side she had. Joanne had her share of enemies.”
“Is there anybody in particular you might be thinking of?” I asked.
He nodded. “Everyone knows about her public spats with Laura Moon and Sandra Oliver. Then there’s the fact that she had a fight going with Harry Pike a few days ago, and she wasn’t all that fond of Hannah Reed, either. I don’t know. I can’t think about it right now. It all makes me too sad.”
