Murder by Kindness

Home > Nonfiction > Murder by Kindness > Page 12
Murder by Kindness Page 12

by Barbara Graham


  They found no one at home at the first two houses, but at the third house his knock was answered by a thirtyish woman holding a small girl. A boy, maybe three years old, had both arms wrapped tightly around her leg. Tony smiled at the children and the woman. “Do you know Mrs. Plover?”

  “Yes, of course. I talk to her frequently in the summertime but not so much in the winter. We share an interest in gardens, particularly flowers.” She tried to peer around him. “Mrs. Johnson came by the house this morning. She was all upset, something about Mrs. Plover having died, and asked me to keep her little girl this morning until the school bus came by. She was in such a state I really didn’t get much information. Did Eunice really die?”

  “I’m afraid it is true.” Tony wondered how much to tell her. He preferred to gather information rather than give it out, but since he knew Mrs. Johnson had already mentioned the babysitter having died there was no valid reason for him to pretend otherwise.

  “No way! It just doesn’t seem possible.” The young woman’s eyes widened. “She’s the healthiest person I know. Even though she’s an older lady, she’s always outside walking or riding her bicycle or gardening. I’m sure I couldn’t keep up with her.”

  Tony held up his notebook. “And your name is?”

  “Christi.” She shifted the child in her arms. “Christi Fuller.”

  Tony wrote it down, wondering why the woman had feigned surprise about hearing of the neighbor’s death. With such bad acting, Christi was not destined for the stage. He said, “I have heard she was always very active, but nevertheless, I need to ask you a few questions.”

  She interrupted him. “Have you told her family?” With her free hand, Christi gripped the edge of her front door hard enough to whiten her knuckles.

  There was an edge to her avid expression and questions Tony found disturbing. “I’m hoping that you have contact information for them.”

  “I guess I do in a way.” Christi frowned. “Not too long ago, Mrs. Plover gave me a list of her relatives because she’s afraid of them. She told me they’ve been trying to steal her house and asked me to let her know if I ever saw any of them creeping around while she was away.”

  “Steal her house?” Tony felt his eyebrows rise. “How did she think they could do that?”

  Christi abandoned her hold on the door and opened it wide but didn’t invite him inside. The little boy eased out onto the porch and began studying the equipment attached to Mike’s duty belt.

  Christi settled one shoulder against the frame like she was expecting to be there for a while. “Well, what she told me was that it is actually her late husband’s brother’s children who want to take her house away from her. According to her, the two nephews and a niece spent their own family inheritance and now think her property should belong to them. They offered to move her into town, into a dumpy little place, and said they would take care of her property, but she knows that means they plan to sell it out from under her. She told them time after time to leave her and her house alone.”

  Surprised by the sudden onslaught of information, Tony said, “Do you know who inherits now that she has died?” He didn’t like to think this story could be true, but he knew people had been murdered for less.

  “No.” Christi shook her head vigorously. “I just know she made a will because she and Carl Lee Cashdollar came over and asked if I would sign as a witness. My understanding is because she had no children of her own, her late husband’s kin think it should be theirs. That doesn’t mean she had no friends or relatives she planned to leave it to.”

  Tony didn’t disagree with her statement. “Did you see anyone at all near her house last night or this morning?”

  “Well, no.” The young woman looked thoughtful. “There could have been though. After dark it’s impossible to see much. We don’t have streetlights out here, like in town.”

  It was a valid point. A few homes had yard lights, but Eunice Plover’s home did not. “Thank you.” Tony and Mike headed toward the next house. No one was home. No one was home at the next several houses either. At the sixth house, the one with the most obscured view, Tony knocked on the door and was greeted with the business end of shotgun.

  It felt like a scene from the movies. A very bad movie showing nothing but badly dressed villains with stills and shotguns, and in which everyone acted stupid and nobody had teeth. There were only a few people that completely fit that description living in his county, and this man was not one of them. This man wore silk shirts, had all of his teeth, all of his hair and enough money to buy and sell most of the people in the county. The front door didn’t sag on its hinges but was a beautiful dark wood with beveled glass panels. He was not a bootlegger. Tony did not like his welcome. “Mr. O’Grady, put down the gun.”

  Complying, Mr. O’Grady growled like a dog before saying, “You got business here?”

  “Your pretending to be ignorant is annoying.” Tony waved a hand in the general direction of the house further up on the hill. “How well do you know Eunice Plover?”

  “Why don’t you ask her if it’s so important to you?”

  “I’m asking you.” Tony didn’t understand why some people went out of their way to be difficult. “Is there some reason you don’t want to answer?”

  “I can’t see it’s any of your business if I spend time with my neighbors or not.” Mr. O’Grady’s lower jaw jutted forward and his eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you go on back to town?”

  The last thing Tony wanted to do was to get into an argument with anyone. Mr. O’Grady might have money and a shotgun, but from Tony’s point of view, the man wasn’t totally rational. If he had “mental issues,” Tony didn’t want to disturb him more than necessary. “Mrs. Plover has passed away.”

  “Oh, no. No.” Suddenly the man seemed to crumple as if his bones had dissolved, and he slid down until he was sitting on the porch. “That can’t be true.”

  Shocked by O’Grady’s reaction, Tony softened his voice and reached out to steady the man’s shoulder. “Did you notice any vehicles or people visiting her yesterday?”

  “Just the same ones as usual.” Unchecked tears streamed down the creases in his face, splashing on his hands. “I can’t believe it. I loved that woman all my life.”

  “Did you two have a personal relationship?” Tony wasn’t quite sure how else to phrase it.

  “Oh, no. I always worshipped her from afar.” O’Grady rolled over and rested his head on the bottom step like it was a pillow, pressing a fist against his lips. The tears continued.

  Tony quickly realized there was nothing else the brokenhearted man could tell him, and he and Mike returned to the house. Mike muttered something about never knowing what people will do or think.

  There was little else for Tony to do at the house. At least for now. Wade would be busy using his fingerprint powder for a bit longer. The ambulance had been requested, and the deceased Mrs. Plover would soon be on the way to Knoxville for an in-depth autopsy.

  As Tony collected the tea cup and the tea box on the counter, he stared at the mess they’d created and considered the problem left behind. He sent Mike on his way and picked up the camera again.

  Once the evidence was collected and the body on its way to Knoxville, Tony, guessing they might need to renew their search for answers, placed seals on the doors before heading to the doctor’s office to follow up on his report. “Now that you’ve had some time to think about it, have you changed your mind about what happened?”

  “No. That was not a natural death. There had to be a poison.” Doc Nash spoke with confidence. “I haven’t got much experience with the various categories, but unless she was suffocated, what else could have been responsible?” He sighed. “You know, it doesn’t have to be exotic. Someone else’s prescription medication can fall into the lethal category—along with certain foods, allergens and about anything else she could ingest. However, from what I could tell, this one apparently worked quickly. A lot of poisons are just not that strong
.”

  “Fabulous.” Tony’s voice reeked with disgust as he considered the implications. If there was a person in his county he believed was less likely than Eunice Plover to have an enemy prepared to kill her, he couldn’t guess who it would be. His own mother had more enemies, and she was well loved by most of the locals. Just not all of them.

  He needed to find out more about the relatives who might be trying to get her house. It could be nothing. But he liked to think he was bright enough to think “fire” when he saw smoke.

  Theo stepped back to admire the overall effect of their work. The gaily decorated walker was a gift from all the quilters for their recently physically less stable friend Caro. This was not the standard cage of aluminum pipes they had started with. Now it had been spray painted neon green and reflective tape glistened where someone had applied it generously to the legs.

  Jenny Swift, between attempts to call Eunice Plover who was unexpectedly absent, had attached a bike light on the front and tail lights on the backs of the hand rails. The lights flashed in different modes according to how many times the on/off button was pressed. Nina had contributed a bell to warn others of her approach; that is, if Caro wanted to warn them. Caro might prefer to sneak up behind people and just scare the wits out of the unwary. Theo had sewn a shopping bag/purse holder using scrap patchwork blocks. It could be attached to the front, or removed, using hook and loop straps.

  Caro had been down in the dumps recently because of her falls. To Theo’s knowledge, Caro had fallen no fewer than three times, just in Theo’s own quilt shop, in the past week. The older lady prized her independence, and had many unpleasant comments about the standard walker some of her friends were forced to deal with. She hadn’t been more complimentary about the snazzy newer models with a built-in seat and hand brakes. The bottom line was Caro did not want to be losing her balance. The quilters refused to be cast aside.

  Some of her friends from the Thursday Night Bowling League, a social gathering that had nothing to do with bowling and everything to do with quilting and laughter, decided to take action. There had been several suggestions about how to help Caro, but the decorative walker was the only one that seemed as though it might work.

  Holding another handful of the homemade valentines she’d found scattered in the shop, Theo was keeping an eye on the cash register as well as helping decorate the walker. Like Jenny, Theo was surprised and concerned when Eunice had not answered either her home phone or her cell phone. There was little Eunice enjoyed more than an impromptu party.

  Theo considered calling Tony to ask if the older woman had been in an accident or pulled over for speeding but decided against it. Eunice did have a tendency to ignore her speedometer.

  Tony had his hand on the Blazer’s door handle, and Wade was already inside his vehicle preparing to leave the Plover residence, when Tony saw Jenny Swift turn into the driveway and head toward the house. Jenny was definitely exceeding the speed limit when she made the turn. The brakes squealed when she stopped abruptly. Jenny waved both arms to attract Tony’s attention. Since she already had it, the motion was unnecessary.

  “Sheriff! Oh, Sheriff.” Jenny hurried out of her car and jogged toward the house.

  If the situation were not so serious Tony might have found it amusing to watch the middle-aged woman jogging up the driveway flapping her arms like a giant bird. “What’s the problem, Jenny?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me. I can’t think your being here is good news, but I’ve been calling Eunice’s phones all morning and she hasn’t answered.” Jenny stopped, bending over and resting her hands on her knees as she gasped for air. “Is she all right? Why are you and Wade here?”

  Tony wasn’t quite sure what he should tell her. He knew the two women were close. It was rare to see one without the other. The woman before him looked to be on the edge of collapse, and hearing that her dear friend was deceased would not improve her condition. He thought he’d ease into the sad news. “Were you supposed to meet her this morning?”

  “Not exactly. She wasn’t at Theo’s shop this morning, so I did try calling her, often. When she didn’t show up at the senior center either, I headed here. It’s not like Eunice. She’s almost always there for lunch. And when she isn’t going to come, she always tells me ahead of time. She didn’t call, not all morning.” Jenny released a shuddering breath. “We were all concerned.”

  Knowing the large number of their seniors who gathered every day for lunch was divided into several close-knit groups, the news was hardly surprising to Tony. He glanced over Jenny’s shoulder, avoiding the anguish on her face. “I hate to have to tell you this, particularly under the circumstances, but Eunice Plover has died.”

  “No. That can’t be right. We’re supposed to leave this afternoon for Paducah. We’re taking a fun trip for a few days to see the quilt museum.” Jenny shook her head and waved her hands in front of her face as if pushing away the news. “There has to be a mistake. Eunice is in perfect health. I’m fifteen years younger than she is, and I take three times the medications she does.”

  “I’m afraid that it is true. We aren’t quite sure what has happened but there’s no question that it is Eunice and she is deceased.” Tony led the woman back toward her car and opened the door for her. She collapsed onto the seat. “Do you need someone to drive you home?”

  “I–I’m not sure.” Tears began sliding down her cheeks, her pallor alarming. “I just can’t believe it. She’s gone?”

  She began shaking so hard that Tony was afraid she would crash her car. “I want you to sit here in your car until I can find someone to drive you home. Will you do that?”

  “Yes.”

  Thinking the woman appeared on the brink of collapse, Tony made sure the window was rolled down to give her air. Wade stood nearby, so Tony instructed him to drive Jenny Swift home in her car and catch a ride back to collect his own.

  Tony called for Sheila to meet him at Jack Gates’s home. At the very least, they could try to notify Eunice’s nephew before he heard the news on the Park County gossip grapevine.

  Jack Gates was in his garage, the big door open. He had his back turned to the driveway and was using a small wrench to adjust something on his hand-powered cycle. It might have three wheels, like a child’s tricycle, but that was where the resemblance ended. This was a very high-tech set of wheels. A green sedan was parked in the driveway.

  Tony knocked on the wall. There was no response. So Tony and Sheila entered the garage together, calling out to attract his attention. They were only a few feet away when Jack realized he had company.

  Straightening with a jerk, Jack turned to face them. He pulled ear buds from his ears and the music was loud enough for Tony to hear it.

  “I’m sorry we startled you,” Tony began.

  “That’s fine, Sheriff. I was off in another dimension, I guess.” Jack’s expression as he studied Tony and Sheila was curiosity. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m afraid we have come to deliver some bad news.” Tony hated, absolutely hated, having to tell people they lost a loved one.

  Jack shook his head even as he asked, “What? Who?”

  “Your Aunt Eunice.” Tony paused for a breath. “Has died.”

  “No way.” Jack’s voice was strong and certain. “Eunice might be quite a bit older than I am, and even though she’s overweight, she’s healthier than anyone I know.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tony spoke softly but firmly.

  The reality of what Tony was saying finally sank in. “I don’t understand. What happened? Was she in an accident?” Jack walked toward them, his awkward dragging gait even more pronounced than usual.

  Tony saw no reason to lie. “Honestly? We’re not sure what did happen.”

  “Have you already told the predators?” Grief and anger filled his voice. His hands trembled.

  “Who?” Sheila’s voice held a note of surprise. “The predators?”

  Jack hesitated a moment. “That’s what Eunice cal
ls that pack of thieves, also known as her late husband’s relatives.”

  “Not yet.” Tony wrote himself a note about Jack’s reaction. “We’re headed to talk to them next.”

  “If they already know, they’re probably busy stripping everything out of the house. They probably weren’t told it isn’t hers anymore. She gifted the house to a charity. Along with all of the contents. She’s merely the caretaker now.” Jack’s expression held satisfaction mixed with grief.

  Tony saw no reason to mention the house being sealed, off limits. “We’ll keep that in mind.” He nodded for Sheila to leave and he followed.

  “Shall we pay a visit to the predators?” Sheila wasn’t smiling when she asked. “I think it’s a pretty apt description of the Plover clan.”

  Although Tony wasn’t thrilled by the idea, he knew it was what they needed to do. “Do you have any idea where to find them at this time of day?”

  “Oh, yeah, they’ll either be drinking at the Spa or they’ll be having a nap in an old beater they park overlooking Kwik Kirk’s.”

  Tony voted to start at the popular parking spot. Sure enough, they found the nephews sleeping in the sun, resting up for their upcoming evening in the bar. Grateful they wouldn’t have to go to the bar, he pounded on the car roof to rouse the pair.

  Snarling, the pair of men jumped out of the car, fists raised, eyes blinking in the bright light. “What’s the matter, Sheriff? We can park up here if we want to. It’s not illegal.”

  “That’s true.” Tony often enjoyed the view from the same location. “I’m afraid I have to inform you of your aunt’s death.”

  “No kidding?” The nephews spoke in almost perfect unison.

  The taller one continued blinking. “How much money do we get?”

  “That’s not my department.” Tony was reminded of Jack Gates’s comment about the house and contents going to charity. “I thought I’d better let you know that your aunt’s house has been sealed. Photos have been taken of the contents, and if you try stealing anything from her property, or even pick one of her flowers, it won’t go well for you. And tell your sister, too.”

 

‹ Prev