Dying to Remember

by Judy Fitzwater

  He stared at her. Leigh Ann was right. He didn’t blink, at least not like normal people.

  “I know you weren’t drunk at the reunion Saturday night,” she said. It was her trump card, the only one she had to play. “Why did you pretend you were?”

  His eyes narrowed. Then he said, “Because I intend to find out.”

  “So do I.”

  “Find what out?” Sheena demanded, the time limit on her keeping quiet having just run out.

  “Whether or not Jimmy Mitchell is really dead,” Jennifer said.

  Chapter 23

  Underwood invited them into his room, but no way was she going to step foot over that threshold. She knew not to take him back to her apartment, either. It was one of Johnny Zeeman’s cardinal rules of criminal investigation: never let a suspect know where you live. Not that he couldn’t find her address under J. Marsh in the phone book.

  They settled on following his Saturn to the S&S Cafeteria a couple of blocks over. Besides, the restaurant made some of the best baking powder biscuits in town, and none of them had yet had breakfast.

  They went through the serving line and then found a private corner in one of the smaller dining rooms. After they had transferred their dishes to the table, Sheena took the trays and stacked them on a nearby stand. The place wasn’t all that full so early on a weekday morning.

  Underwood stuffed his mouth with a huge bite of scrambled eggs mixed with grits. Then he mumbled around his food. “You can’t get grits north of southern Virginia.”

  “I guess you’ve traveled a lot over the years with the Marine Corps,” Jennifer suggested, splitting open a biscuit and slathering it with margarine from one of the little rectangular tubs, then topping it off with a heaping glob of blackberry jam.

  He stopped chewing and cocked an eyebrow at her.

  “I saw the base sticker on your bumper.” That explained the haircut, the physique, the confidence, and why he knew the geographical boundaries for Southern food.

  He bit off most of a slice of bacon and wiped the grease from his hands on a napkin.

  “I heard what you said at the reunion. Do you really think Jimmy is still alive?” It was her personal favorite of all the possible solutions.

  “You didn’t know Jimmy, did you?” he asked, taking a healthy swig of orange juice.

  She shook her head and watched as Sheena drowned her pancakes in brown-sugar syrup.

  “He was a resourceful little guy,” he said. “Kind of small for his age, but smart, wily, and honorable. To make me believe, you’re going to have to show me some proof.”

  “He had a habit of running away.”

  “Right. He had issues but he wasn’t a bad kid.”

  “But what about Gavin’s song?” Jennifer said. “I’m assuming you heard it. I think he sent it to everyone he ever met. He seems convinced that Jimmy is dead.”

  “Gavin Lawson was a pothead who slept through most of the first two years of high school,” Underwood stated. “When he wasn’t high, he was drunk. Sometimes, he was both.”

  “You weren’t friends, then.”

  “He was one of the best friends I’ve ever had. Doesn’t change what he was.”

  “Did you...”

  “Indulge? Nope. Never believed in it.”

  “What happened the night Jimmy disappeared?” Jennifer asked.

  Underwood shook his head and then took a sip of coffee. “You didn’t come to see me because you want to solve a twelve-year-old mystery. What’s Jimmy got to do with Buckner?”

  “We hoped you might be able to help us figure that out,” Jennifer said.

  He studied the two women before he spoke. She doubted he would tell them anything he hadn’t told someone—at least the police—before, but she’d be grateful for even that much.

  “Jimmy told his parents he was going out with me, but he wasn’t.”

  “So you didn’t see him that night.” Sheena took a huge bite of pancakes.

  “Of course I saw him. I picked him up at home and took him over to the high school.”

  “What time?”

  “I guess it was close to ten o’clock.”

  “But he wasn’t going to the dance,” Sheena said.

  “No.”

  “You mean you just dropped him and left?” Sheena went on.

  He nodded.

  “Where’d you go?” Jennifer asked.

  “To a late movie and then to get something to eat.”

  “Alone?” Sheena asked, swirling a single bite of pancake in more syrup than Jennifer used on a whole stack.

  “Alone,” he assured them.

  Leaving him totally without an alibi. Unless he had a ticket stub, and even then...

  “He must have given you some kind of explanation for what he was doing,” Jennifer insisted.

  “He was meeting someone.”

  “At the prom? A girl?” Sheena asked.

  Underwood shook his head. “I don’t think so. This seemed more like business.”

  “What kind of business would a sixteen-year-old geek have to conduct?” Sheena asked.

  His eyes narrowed and Sheena actually shrank back. Ben Underwood was not someone you insulted. Not anymore.

  “He was going to tell me later.”

  “Okay, then tell us what he was going to get out of this business,” Jennifer said. Sixteen-year-olds bragged. If Jimmy wouldn’t say what he was doing, Jennifer suspected he couldn’t resist telling why he was doing it.

  “All he ever said was, it was a matter of honor.”

  “Honor?” Sheena almost choked on her food. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “How was he supposed to get home?” Jennifer asked, ignoring Sheena and hoping Underwood would do the same. Making light of honor to a Marine was not particularly wise.

  “I was to come back to the school parking lot a little after midnight and wait for him.”

  “I take it he never showed up,” Jennifer said.

  Underwood shook his head. “The movie was long and I was a little late getting there. I waited and then finally went home about one. I figured he’d gotten another ride.”

  Maybe he had, and maybe that’s why he was never seen again.

  “Who were Jimmy’s friends?” Jennifer asked.

  “Mostly me and Gavin. The three of us hung pretty tight.”

  Sheena poked Jennifer with the back of her fork and yawned without bothering to cover her mouth. “This was some idea you had, Jenny. Getting me out of bed almost before daybreak and dragging me over here to talk about some kid who had nothing whatsoever to do with Danny—”

  “I remember you now,” Underwood told Jennifer. “She hated you.” He pointed at Sheena. “She used to—”

  “Right,” Jennifer interrupted. “Ours is a complicated relationship.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Ben, why does Gavin know so much?” Jennifer asked, kneeing Sheena and wishing she could stuff her under the table.

  “I don’t know. Jimmy must have told him.”

  “But when?”

  “That’s an excellent question.”

  “We’re obviously missing something. You say Jimmy didn’t have a girlfriend.”

  Ben shook his head.

  “A crush, then,” Jennifer suggested.

  “Yeah, now that you mention it. There was a girl he talked about spending time with. A little redhead. Real cute. I think she was having trouble with her boyfriend at the time.”

  “Do you remember her name?”

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  “Sheena, you knew most everybody at school. Who were the redheads?”

  “The only one who comes to mind right away is Candy Smyth, but she was a cheerleader—”

  “That’s right. She was on the cheerleading squad,” Underwood insisted.

  “No way,” Sheena insisted, dropping her fork and pushing her plate away.

  “You can’t mean the Candy who married Al Carpenter?” Jennifer demanded.

>   “Yeah,” Underwood agreed. “She must be the one. I know she was dating some guy on the football team.”

  “He drops a bombshell like that and you let him walk out of here?” Sheena asked, wadding her napkin and throwing it at Jennifer across the table. “You’re pathetic, Jenny. You should have pumped him for details about Jimmy and Candy’s relationship.”

  “I’d hardly call that a bombshell, and I doubt anyone other than you is interested in who was dating who back then,” Jennifer snapped, tossing the napkin right back at her. “Besides, what did you expect me to do, physically restrain him? The man’s a Marine. And what’s wrong with you? You’re the physical one.”

  “Just what do you mean by that crack?” Sheena demanded.

  “Nothing. Let the man go. If he finds out something, I’m sure we’ll hear about it. Anyway, I don’t think he had anything to do with Jimmy’s disappearance. Or with Danny’s murder.”

  “You’re too soft, Jenny, but that’s just one of your problems.”

  “And you’re not. That’s one of your problems. He wasn’t going to tell us any more than he already had. I’ve written enough of these scenes in my novels to know. We got all we could out of him.”

  “In your novels? Why don’t you try visiting the real world now and then, Sherlock?”

  At the moment the real world held little appeal. It did, after all, contain one Sheena Cassidy Buckner.

  “So what do you suggest we do now? Give up?” Sheena asked.

  As if either one of them would.

  “I want to know what the hell was all that about Candy being one of Jimmy’s friends,” Sheena demanded.

  “Me, too. What say we give her an hour and then go ask her? Nicely,” Jennifer added.

  Chapter 24

  Candy was clearing away her breakfast dishes when Sheena and Jennifer burst in upon her. Dressed in a thin blue cotton robe, she apologized profusely for throwing them out yesterday morning when her nerves had, as she put it, reached the frazzled stage. Then she ushered them to the kitchen table and offered to scramble up some eggs.

  “No thanks,” Sheena declined as Candy poured mugs full of hot coffee. “We just came from breakfast.”

  “I don’t mean to be rude,” Candy said, placing the mugs in front of them and joining them at the table, “but it’s barely eight-thirty. The kids haven’t been gone ten minutes.” She pulled the robe tighter across her chest. “Has something happened?”

  They’d come over and knocked on her door at that ridiculous hour, and Candy didn’t want to be rude? Only in the South.

  “What’s this about you and Jimmy Mitchell being friends?” Sheena demanded, as though Candy had crossed some imaginary line. Never mind that the line had been drawn many years ago and that the person she had crossed it for was quite possibly dead.

  Candy’s eyes narrowed, and Jennifer sank back in her chair. If she was about to witness a cat fight, she didn’t want to get hit with any flying fur.

  But Candy’s features softened and she said, “Whoever told you a thing like that?”

  Jennifer nudged Sheena under the table, and Sheena scowled at her. “So it’s not true.”

  “Jimmy was a nice boy. I didn’t see the harm.”

  “Then you were friends,” Jennifer said, leaning forward to block Sheena, suddenly defensive of a cheerleader who had broken the rules. She was liking Candy better all the time.

  “I needed someone to talk to. Al and I were having problems and...” She shrugged. She couldn’t confide in Sheena even all these years later. Why would anyone expect her to talk to her then? “Jimmy and I saw each other some.”

  “How about the night he disappeared?” Jennifer asked.

  “Prom night?” Candy asked.

  Jennifer nodded.

  Her face reddened. “Al and I had had a fight earlier that day. We didn’t go to the dance. Late that night I was with Sheena. We were...” Her eyes darted between the two women.

  The toilet paper in the trees. “You were at my house,” Jennifer stated.

  “I’m really sorry about that, Jennifer.” Candy dropped her gaze. “It was one of those crowd mentality things. I should never have let—”

  “Cut the crap,” Sheena interrupted. “You were angry as hell at Al.”

  “Consider it cut, Sheena.” Candy rose up in her seat, and for a moment Jennifer was afraid she was going to reach across the table and grab a handful of hair.

  “What time were you at my house?” Jennifer intervened.

  “Maybe midnight,” Candy offered, settling down.

  “Could have been a little before,” Sheena threw in.

  It was some time after she’d called her father and before they’d gotten home. Midnight was probably about right. Didn’t take long to toss rolls of toilet paper over tree branches.

  “What time did the two of you get together?”

  Candy shrugged. “I don’t know. What would you say, Sheena? About eleven?”

  “That sounds about right. I ran into Candy outside the gym. After you and Danny left.”

  “But you were with Mick.”

  “We only went to the dance as friends. What did he care what I did the rest of the night?”

  Maybe a lot.

  “Did Jimmy ever ask you out?” Jennifer asked.

  Candy stared at Sheena, a look of determination on her face. “Yes, he did.”

  “But you didn’t go with him,” Sheena insisted.

  “No.” Candy dropped her gaze. She seemed ashamed. Either because she was lying now to Sheena to save face or because she’d turned Jimmy down then for exactly the same reason.

  “I was so angry with Al. I ran into him earlier outside the school, and we had another argument. He went looking for Jimmy.”

  “That night?”

  Candy nodded.

  “So he knew the two of you were friends.”

  “He wanted to find him, to beat him up.”

  “Why?”

  “He thought I was at school to see Jimmy.”

  Underwood said Jimmy was meeting someone that night. Would he have been so foolish as to take Al on?

  “Did he see him?” Jennifer pressed.

  She shrugged. “I would never have married Al if for one moment I ever thought he had something to do with—”

  “Where is that husband of yours?” Sheena asked.

  “I...” Candy seemed to choke on her words. She cleared her throat. Her eyes searched theirs, her guard finally down. She looked truly frightened. “I don’t know. I’m afraid. I’m worried that something may have happened to him. He’s never been gone like this, not for days at a time without even a phone call.”

  Chapter 25

  Al had been the last known person seen with Danny Buckner. Where the heck was he? Jennifer had more than a few questions for him once he resurfaced. If he resurfaced.

  At least she knew where Leigh Ann was. At work. Jennifer had checked as soon as she made it home from Candy’s. Good. That should keep her away from Gavin and out of trouble for the next several hours.

  Sheena, grumbling as though Candy had caused the collapse of her whole social structure, took herself off in her Jeep, fussing about the fact that Jennifer was abandoning her. But it was necessary. She couldn’t take Sheena just anywhere, and where she planned to go next, Sheena would be a definite liability.

  Ben Underwood had told them that Jimmy was meeting someone prom night, and Candy said Al had gone looking for him. That put Jimmy in direct conflict with at least one of Danny’s group. The four of them were tight. They shared most things, even, on occasion, girlfriends. Mick had taken Sheena to the prom. Seth had dated Sheena and even asked Jennifer out once after she and Danny broke up. Surely at least one of them knew what Al had done that night—before and/or after he’d come knocking on the window of Danny’s dad’s old Chevrolet.

  She could talk to Seth Yarborough, but he was investigating Danny’s death, and if their lunch was any indication, he was unlikely to share what he k
new or suspected with her. Where Al had gotten himself off to was anybody’s guess. She hoped her guess was wrong. That left Mick Farmer, now sole proprietor of Macon Pictures.

  Too bad she couldn’t simply go see him on her own. But she didn’t dare arouse his suspicions. As Gavin put it, somebody was “killing people again,” and until she knew who, everyone was suspect. That pesky paranoia was rearing its ugly head.

  She tapped her foot impatiently against the brake pedal of her Beetle. The appointment was for two o’clock. At 2:02 Teri finally showed up.

  “You’re late,” Jennifer told her in the parking lot.

  “Excuse me? You call me at 9:45 on a Tuesday morning, tell me to take the afternoon off from work, and get myself over to some business I’ve never heard of, in a part of town I’m not that familiar with, for a meeting you made without once consulting me, and then you have the nerve—”

  When she put it that way... “Sorry. I’m an insensitive clod and I deserve an unbridled tongue lashing. Only later. We’ve got to get inside. I told the receptionist it was vital that you see Mick today.”

  “Because?”

  “I was hoping you’d come up with something on the way over here.”

  “Might have helped had I known I needed to.” Teri tapped her foot. She could have such an attitude at times. “Now what exactly are we trying to find out?”

  “I explained all that to you over the phone.” At least as much as was possible about Jimmy and Danny and Al and Ben as a three-minute phone call would allow. Everything except her suspicion that Danny was murdered.

  “Seems to me you’ve never quite gotten over high school, Jen. Let it go. What happened to Jimmy Mitchell is ancient history, unless...”

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless you think that’s why Danny killed himself.”

  The words made her stop. She would be dishonest if she denied it hadn’t occurred to her. The timing was right. Al had come to get Danny, and they had done what? She didn’t want to think about it. Surely Danny wouldn’t have harmed Jimmy or anybody else. Not her Danny.