Death of a Cantankerous Old Coot (Lizzie Crenshaw Mysteries)

by Teresa Watson

  Wait a minute…he kissed me!

  Holy Moly!

  Chapter 15

  Twenty minutes later, I walked over to the drugstore to pick up some gauze and tape. Randi Newman, one of Trixie’s girls, was looking at nail polish when I came in. “Hi Lizzie!” she said. “Did you hear about Earline’s house?”

  I nodded. “I was there last night. Someone wanted to make sure that house was destroyed.”

  “Damn shame. Earline’s a nice lady. I wonder what she’s going to do now.”

  “Randi, were you working last week when Earline and Amos had their argument?”

  “Oh man, that was one monster blowout! She was cussing him out, up one side and down the other. I’ve never heard a woman cuss like that, except for Momma. But only when she was really mad at my daddy.” She picked up a bottle of dark purple nail polish. “She had it wrong, though.”

  “Who did?”

  “Earline. She accused him of fooling around on her, but he wasn’t.”

  “What was he doing out there so much then?”

  “Just talking.”

  “To anyone in particular?”

  Randi nodded. “Debra Cosgrove.”

  “Really? Do you have any idea what they were talking about?”

  Randi shook her head. “Nope, but whatever it was, Amos was excited about it. The last time he was out there, he brought a bunch of papers for her to sign.”

  I wondered if this had anything to do with the new evidence Amos and his lawyer claimed they had regarding the lawsuit. It sounded like the cantankerous old coot was up to his sneaky tricks again. I noticed Randi staring at me. “What? Have I got something on my face?”

  “Oh no, nothing like that. I just realized something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You and Debra look a lot alike. In fact, you two could pass as twins.” She looked at her watch. “Whoops, I gotta go. I’m going to be late for work. See you, Lizzie!”

  I stared after her, dumbfounded. I wondered why Trixie had never mentioned this to me.

  “Good morning, Elizabeth,” Olga Johnstone said as I walked up to the register. “My goodness, what happened to your hand? You didn’t hurt yourself last night at the fire, did you?”

  “No, ma’am. I burned it on a hot pan of brownies.”

  Olga shook her head. “I know your mother taught you to use hot pads to take things out of the oven, young lady. Or were you daydreaming again?”

  I laughed. “Yes ma’am, I’m afraid I was.”

  She put my items in a bag and handed it to me. “Isn’t it a shame about Earline’s house?”

  “Yes ma’am, it certainly is. Did you happen to see anyone hanging around that didn’t belong there yesterday?”

  “No,” Olga replied, “not a soul. The only strange thing I saw was Earline walking down the street.”

  “Why was that so strange?”

  “Earline doesn’t walk anywhere. She always uses that pink monstrosity of hers. That’s the ugliest color on a car I’ve ever seen. Reminds me of that pink medicine you’re supposed to take when you have an upset stomach.”

  I agreed with her about the color of the car. “I wonder why she left the car at the house.”

  “Beats me,” Olga shrugged. “But about an hour after she left, that car exploded and set the whole house on fire. The hood of that thing ended up in my backyard! I had the fire department haul it away.”

  The line was backing up behind me, so I couldn’t ask her any more questions. I walked outside in time to see Owen driving by in his department car.

  In the backseat was Earline.

  Chapter 16

  A journalism professor once told me that I would never make it as a reporter because I did not have the fire in my belly to chase the story. However, at that moment, as I watched Owen drive Earline to the sheriff’s department, I wanted to go after them to find out what was going on. Maybe that came more from a natural curiosity, but either way, I decided to stick my nose in where it probably didn’t belong.

  I was so focused on where I was going that I didn’t pay attention to people coming out of the stores to my left. Halfway down the sidewalk, I ran into someone and ended up sitting on the sidewalk. Looking up, I saw a redheaded woman staring down at me, a frown on her face. The thought crossed my mind that she looked vaguely familiar. She held out a manicured hand, pulling me to my feet. “I am so sorry,” I said. “Are you alright?”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” the woman replied. “You should watch what you are going.”

  “You’re right,” I admitted. “I was just in a hurry to get somewhere.”

  She looked up the street in time to see the taillights of Owen’s car disappear around the corner. “Were you following Sheriff Greene?”

  I nodded. “It looks like he just arrested Earline Gardner.”

  “Oh really? For killing Amos?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I was going to find out.”

  “I don’t understand what all the fuss is about,” the woman said. “Everyone knows that Amos deserved what he got. If she did do it, they should call it justifiable homicide.” She checked her watch. “I’ve got to run. Have a good day!” She moved off in the opposite direction and disappeared around the corner.

  As I started walking again, I wondered if the woman was right. Maybe, but I doubted prosecutors would agree. It looked more like premeditated murder to me. Ten minutes later, I walked in the front door of the sheriff’s department. “Hello Lizzie,” Abby Sinclair, the receptionist, said as I walked in. Abby had been working there since our high school days. She was married to Alan Sinclair, who was a police officer in a nearby town. “What brings you here today?”

  “I saw Owen driving this way a few minutes ago. He had Earline in the back seat.”

  She nodded. “He’s got her in his office at the moment. She’s not ‘officially’ under arrest. Just here for questioning.”

  “Did she call her lawyer?”

  “I don’t know. Do you think she should?”

  Before I could answer, Owen came down the short hallway. “Abby, could you get…” He frowned when he saw me. “What are you doing here?”

  “Why have you brought Earline in?”

  “Are you asking as a concerned citizen or as a reporter?”

  “I’m not a reporter, Owen, you know that.”

  “But you are covering this story for Dale, are you not?” he said. When I didn’t answer, he pointed to the front door. “Out, Lizzie. I’ll make a statement if and when there is something to say.”

  “You don’t really think she did it, do you?”

  “That’s not for me to say,” he replied. “I just go where the evidence leads me.”

  “And it’s leading you to Earline?”

  “No comment.”

  “Oh, come on, Owen, get serious. You know I’m not going to write anything you don’t want released to the public. I think I’ve already proved that to you.”

  “Yes, you have,” he agreed. “This goes no further than this room. There is evidence that gas was the accelerant used at the house. The arsonist poured it around the car, put a gas-soaked rag in the tank, and boom. The car exploded, setting everything on fire.”

  “Someone was trying to kill Earline.”

  “Or Earline was trying to destroy evidence. However, she claims that she saw someone lurking around the house about an hour before she left.”

  “Why didn’t she call it in?”

  “Who knows?”

  “Did she get a good look at whoever it was?”

  Owen scratched his chin. “Well, here’s the thing. She says it was a short, redheaded person, maybe a woman.”

  “That narrows it down to a few hundred women in town.”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “Actually, Earline narrowed it down to one person.”

  “Really? Who?”

  Earline came up behind Owen at that moment and pointed at me. “That’s her! That’s who I saw lurking around my place
yesterday! She’s the one who killed Amos, and now she’s trying to kill me!”

  Chapter 17

  I looked at Earline with my mouth hanging open. Owen gave me a “be quiet” glance. “Of course, she was at your house, Earline,” he said in a soothing tone. “She was standing by my car when you came up to the scene.”

  “I’m not talking about last night at the fire, Sheriff Greene,” Earline snapped. “And quit treating me like I’m a senile old woman. I’m only 55. I am talking about earlier in the evening, before I left the house around 6:30 p.m.”

  “I wasn’t near your house at that time,” I said.

  “So you say,” she retorted. “Where were you?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Ha!” Earline said, pointing at me again. “She doesn’t have an alibi. Arrest her, not me!”

  “Ms. Crenshaw has an alibi for the time in question, Mrs. Gardner,” T.J. said quietly from behind me. I was focused on Earline and didn’t hear him come in. “She was having dinner with a member of the sheriff’s department.”

  “A likely story,” Earline said.

  “Do you mind if I ask the questions now?” Owen replied.

  “Ask her where she was when Amos was killed then, Sheriff. If anyone around here has the best motive for murdering my husband, it’s her!”

  “That’s enough!” Owen bellowed. He pointed at Earline. “Get back in my office.” Earline huffed but turned around and walked down the hallway, slamming the office door. “You need to leave, Lizzie. Take her home, Deputy.”

  “My car is parked by the newspaper office,” I replied. “I’ll walk back and get it.”

  “No. If Dale knows you came down here, he’ll be waiting for you to give him details. T.J. can drive you home.”

  “But I need my car!” I protested.

  “So come get it after dark!” he snapped. “Better yet, I’ll have it delivered to your house. Don’t go anywhere near that office. Is that clear?” I mumbled an answer. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  “I said fine, bossy butt.” I headed for the door, ready to slam it shut.

  “Lizzie, for what it’s worth, I don’t believe you did it.”

  “Did what, Owen? Kill Amos or burn the house down?”

  “Either one. It’s not in your nature to hurt anyone else. Ignore Earline. She’s just trying to deflect attention away from herself.”

  I nodded, shoved the door open and left, with T.J. right behind me. “We both know you didn’t burn down the house, Lizzie,” he said, holding the car door open for me. “Owen’s right. Earline is just trying to take the focus off herself.”

  “But I don’t have an alibi for the time of the murder,” I pointed out. “My alibi is the same as hers.”

  “You found the body.”

  “You and I both know that is irrelevant. Plenty of murderers have killed their victims, then called the police to claim they found the body.”

  T.J. backed out and started down the street. “Are you confessing to murdering Amos?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Do you own a gun?”

  “Definitely not.”

  “You’re clear in my book,” T.J. laughed.

  “But you aren’t exactly unbiased, are you? After all, you are interested in one of the suspects.”

  “Owen just said he doesn’t think you did it. So that clears you all the way around.”

  “What if Earline did see someone outside her house before the fire? Amos had a regular lawn service, so there is no reason to keep gasoline at the house. On the other hand, gas is something that is easy to get. Don’t forget about the witness that saw Earline leave an hour before the fire.”

  “Yes, but the explosion didn’t happen until an hour after Earline had left the house. If you are using an accelerant like gas, it wouldn’t burn for an hour before exploding,” T.J. said. “So that means that Earline couldn’t have set the house on fire.”

  I shook my head. “Someone really is trying to kill her.”

  “But why? It doesn’t make sense. Amos was the one that people were mad at, not Earline.”

  I told him what Randi said. “You need to find out what those papers were that Amos had Debra sign.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I think that whatever is in those papers is what got Amos killed. And you need to talk to that lawyer to find out what this new evidence Amos claims he had regarding our lawsuit.”

  “There’s no way I can talk to the lawyer without Earline’s permission,” T.J. said as he pulled into my driveway. “Client-lawyer privilege extends to her.”

  “So convince Earline to let us talk to the lawyer,” I said, getting out and walking to the front door.

  “And how do you suggest I do that?”

  “Use your charms and winning personality to convince her.”

  “Looks like someone left you a note,” T.J. said, pulling an envelope from the doorframe.

  “Probably Trixie,” I said, unlocking the door before taking it from him. “She leaves me goofy messages all the time. It’s an ongoing joke from when we were kids.” I opened the envelope, pulled out the piece of paper and read it.

  “That is one sick joke,” T.J. replied.

  In block lettering, the note said, “BUTT OUT OR YOU’RE NEXT!”

  Chapter 18

  To say that I wasn’t upset would be a lie. I wasn’t overly brave, by any stretch of the imagination. There were times when I got into fights as a kid, and I gave as good as I got. This was different: someone had flat out threatened to kill me.

  “Do you know something about Amos’ murder that you haven’t told me yet?” T.J. said.

  “What could I possibly know? All I did was find a body!”

  “You weren’t exactly upfront about Earline’s shooting ability,” he pointed out.

  “What did you expect me to say? ‘Throw the steaks on the grill and oh, by the way, my step grandmother is capable of shooting the eye out of a squirrel without flinching. Would you like a salad with your steak?’ Not exactly titillating dinner conversation.”

  “But you admit you withheld information.”

  “Not intentionally. I was going to tell you.”

  “When?”

  “After I had a chance to talk to Earline.”

  “Are you insane? You were going to confront a murder suspect? Alone?”

  “I didn’t say it was a brilliant idea,” I snapped, reaching into my purse for my keys.

  Before I could put the key into the lock, T.J. snatched them from my hand. “You’re not going in there until I’ve had a chance to look around.”

  “You don’t think there’s a booby trap in there, do you?”

  T.J. pulled his service revolver out of his holster and shook his head. “I am pretty sure that they feel the note will be enough to scare you. It’s better to be safe than sorry, though. Go wait out by the car until I tell you it’s clear.”

  He waited until I was safely standing by the trunk before he unlocked the door. I flinched, half-expecting to hear a loud BOOM, but thankfully, nothing happened. T.J. appeared in the doorway a few minutes later and motioned for me to come in.

  “Everything okay?” I said as I walked in.

  “I think so, but I’ve only been here a couple of times, so I wouldn’t notice anything out of place. Why don’t you look around, see if anything looks different or if something is missing.”

  “Let me check on Babe first,” I replied as I opened the back door. I didn’t see her under the tree, or anywhere else in the backyard. There was a piece of paper nailed to the tree. “I took Babe back. She’s mine, not yours!”

  I rushed into the house and showed the note to T.J. “Why would she take Babe back?”

  “Who?”

  “Earline, who else? When did she have the time to come over here and pick her up?”

  T.J. shook his head. “She couldn’t have, Lizzie. She’s been at the station for the last two hours. Was Babe here when you left t
his morning?” I nodded. “What time did you leave?”

  “Around 11:30. I went to the newspaper office and then I went to the café.”

  “Owen picked up Earline at 12:45. I don’t think that would give her enough time to come here, take Babe, leave the notes, and stash her somewhere.”

  I grabbed a small bottle of cranapple juice from the fridge. “Do you realize what you are saying? If Earline didn’t threaten me, then she couldn’t have killed Amos.”

  “Unless she’s trying to make it look like someone is setting her up,” T.J. pointed out.

  “She’s not that bright,” I retorted.

  “So she could be innocent. Which puts us back at square one.”

  “No, it puts you back at square one. I am just a writer, who is under a deadline and really needs to get back to work. So could you take your investigation and go?”

  “Are you going to tell me you aren’t the least bit interested in finding out who is doing this?”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m just saying that it’s your job to find out. When you figure it out and have arrested the guilty party, you can come over and give me all the gory details.”