Murder at the Tremont House (A Blue Plate Cafe Mystery)

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Murder at the Tremont House (A Blue Plate Cafe Mystery) Page 18

by Alter, Judy


  “No, absolutely not. I never wished her well, but I didn’t wish her dead either, and frankly, I don’t think I have the stomach for killing. I don’t own a gun, and I’ve never allowed Cary to learn to shoot, though he may have practiced with a buddy’s BB gun or maybe even a shotgun. I hope not. I’m opposed to firearms.”

  “What was your last name originally?”

  “Cavanaugh.”

  “Does Cary know that Sara Jo was his mother? I understand she spent more time with him than the other boys.”

  There was a long silence on the tape, and finally Roger said, “I haven’t asked him. I’ve been afraid to.”

  Rick turned off the machine. “That’s it, folks. He volunteered to go get Cary, wanted to do it right then, and I thought it looked a lot less obvious if his dad got him out of class than the chief of police.”

  “How did his dad explain the sudden trip to your office to him?”

  “Told him what Kate has been saying all along: he’s the only link we can find between the two women.”

  “Did you tape Cary?” Tom asked.

  “Nope. Underage. I didn’t think it was smart. But he didn’t kill her. I’m sure of it.”

  “Instinct?” I asked softly, and he answered with a wry grin, “Yeah, instinct. Cary’s like his dad—doesn’t have it in him to be a killer.” Rick yawned, and I knew he was hinting for Tom to go along, but Tom was nowhere through yet.

  “So you didn’t arrest either one?” Tom persisted.

  “No evidence, as I said. No gun. And there are two problems: why would either of them kill Sally Vaughn? She was apparently trying to help Cary. The boy told me he liked her a lot, appreciated the work she did with him, and he liked math—it’s his best subject. She was grooming him for a college scholarship. And why stalk and threaten Kate, except that she’s the number one suspect and is trying on her own to solve the case.” He emphasized “on her own” and gave me a reproachful look.

  I was mulling over the business of Cary being an outstanding student versus Cary needing tutoring in math. The only way to find out would be to subpoena his school records, and I didn’t even know if you could do that. “Rick, can you subpoena his school records? I’m bothered that he said he needed tutoring and Sally Vaughn said he was an outstanding student.” He gave me a long look that said I was meddling again, and then reached out to put a reassuring hand on mine. “I don’t think that’s necessary. I’m taking all this to Halstead tomorrow,” he said.

  “On Saturday?” I asked.

  “Law enforcement is not a five-day-a-week job,” he replied in a way that made me feel chastised.

  Eventually Tom left to go to the hardware store for plywood to put over my window. He’d repair it in the morning. It was one o’clock when he finally went home. I gave Rick first dibs on the bathroom—maybe if I stayed in the house I’d have to figure a way to add at least a half bath. But he was quick, and I got ready for bed, settling Huggles and Wynona in.

  “Leave here at six-thirty?” he asked through the closed door.

  “It’s Saturday. Don’t you want to sleep in?”

  “Nope. Got to go to Canton first thing. And you have to make me a sticky bun so I’ll have the energy to face Halstead, who will want to know why I haven’t arrested someone. Anyone. I don’t think he considers whether or not we have the evidence for a conviction when he makes those pronouncements.”

  “Okay, six thirty.” I groaned when I looked at the clock. I knew I’d lie awake, puzzling about the Smith family, and I did. They seemed like a nice, stable family, though now I knew there was an unusual twist to their story. But still, they seemed like a close, normal American family. Yes, Bonnie was a bit rough around the edges but she was devoted to her son, as she repeatedly called him. Personally I couldn’t see what the quiet and apparently well-educated Roger saw in her, but maybe he saw a much-needed mother for his son. None of them were killers though. But if you couldn’t link those two deaths to one of the Smiths, how else could you explain them. I’m not a big believer in coincidence in such cases.

  It was after four in the morning before I fell asleep but at least I hadn’t popped up at every creak and groan of the old house. I felt safe with Rick there. Would I feel as safe with David? Did he even own a gun? I’m not a big proponent of firearms. In fact, I think they’re dangerous in the hands of more people than not, but in this case, having a gun handy seemed like a good idea. Especially since I was the only target left. It made me think of the movie title, Dead Man Walking, even if the circumstances were wildly different. I hoped I wasn’t a dead woman walking.

  My alarm went off at 6:10, and I was ready by 6:30—barely any makeup, teeth brushed, hair sort of brushed, Huggles let out briefly, and I was ready to go.

  It was a slow morning at the Blue Plate, which of course gave me more time to conjure up awful scenarios and wild theories. Rick called a little before noon to say he was back from Canton.

  “Halstead wants to arrest Roger and Cary. He thinks we can play good cop, bad cop, and get them to testify against each other, as though they were in cahoots on this. I told him the reasons he was wrong, but he said he’d wait till Monday to make a decision. I’m going to stay here and catch up on paperwork. I’ll be over sometime this afternoon for a late lunch.”

  A few minutes later, David walked in, and I was delighted both to see him and to be rescued from my own dark thoughts. He ordered a BLT and I asked if he was feeling well.

  “Can’t eat chicken-fried steak every day,” he said. “How about dinner in Tyler tonight?”

  “Sounds good. Let me check with Marj.” Long-suffering Marj agreed and said she was glad to see me get out of town, even briefly.

  When I reported that to David, I asked, “Will Rick let us go?” I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, but the deeper rivalry between the two came to the surface.

  “Is he my keeper, too now?”

  “No. You know how he feels about my being in danger.”

  “I know I can protect you,” he said, his tone betraying just a bit of anger. Since he was sitting with Ava and Jess, I don’t think he wanted to come out and say he had a gun, but he said, “I have the necessary equipment.”

  I was relieved, and we made plans to go again to Currents, the place we all liked. I did not suggest inviting Rick.

  Chapter Twenty

  We were lazy that Saturday afternoon. Tom and Henry did as Tom promised and took Huggles for a run in the country, complete with a Frisbee. Although invited to go along, David elected to head back to his cabin. The girls were sitting with him at a corner table near the door, Ava buried in a book and Jess working on one of her endless art projects. They had chosen not to go with their father and brother on the promise of shampoo and manicures at my house. Rick was investigating the Smith family, though still with no resolution, but I guess we felt too complacent. I was anticipating getting the girls shampooed and then going to dinner with David.

  It was a warm day, upper eighties, but with a nice breeze. I opened the café doors and windows, turned on the ceiling fan and forgot about air conditioning. Gram would have approved. The only things covering the front doors were the double-wide screens that banged every time someone came in and out.

  Except when Bonnie Smith came in about two. She looked around as though deciding where she wanted to sit. Then, in what later seemed to me one sudden, blurred moment, she whipped out a handgun and grabbed Jess, holding the gun to the child’s head. I started forward without thinking but froze when she said, “Everyone stay where you are or I shoot this sweet child.”

  David was halfway out of his chair. She gave him one glance and said, “You too.” We froze, including the staff and two customers who were in the room. “Miss Chambers,” Bonnie said. “You come with us. Do what I say if you want this girl to live.”

  Jess was softly crying and looking to me to rescue her. How did I explain to the child I couldn’t? I was helpless.

  “I’ll do anything,” I said. “J
ust let her go.” My voice trembled, and I glanced at David who also had an agonized look on his face.

  “In due time. Go out the door in front of me. My car is right outside, keys in the ignition, doors open. You’re driving. Get in and buckle up.”

  On shaky legs I went out the door, followed closely by Bonnie who dragged a whimpering Jess. Bonnie saw me into the car and slammed the door. Then she rounded the car, got into the passenger seat, and literally threw Jess from her so hard that the child landed hard on the gravel and cried out in pain.

  “She’s hurt!” I cried.

  “Not as bad as being shot,” she said. “Take 64 to Canton. I’ll direct you. Go on, drive!” She poked me in the ribs with the gun.

  I drove. Finally I got up the nerve to ask, “Where are we going?”

  “Dallas. I don’t want to kill again. If you do as I say, I’ll let you go.”

  I was thinking, No way you’re going to get away with this. Marj or David will call Rick, and he’ll follow us. He’ll save me. As we drove by City Hall, I saw Rick’s car parked there. Why wasn’t he running to it? Or aiming a gun at the tires? Why wasn’t he doing anything? Frustration and fear mingled inside me like a volcano about to erupt.

  At the edge of Canton, we turned left on 243, and I knew where we were going—the back road to Dallas, my favorite route. Only now I thought of it as long and endless. We drove slowly through Canton traffic. “Follow the speed limit. I don’t want to attract attention.”

  I did as she said, but once clear of the town limits she directed me to speed up. I kept glancing surreptitiously in the rear view mirror to see if Rick was following us. He wasn’t.

  The drive wasn’t as long as I expected because she kept up an endless monologue that began with, “I had to kill her, you know. She was sleeping with Cary. She seduced my poor darling boy. I’ve devoted my life to raising that child, and now it’s all over. He’s corrupted, she’s dead, and I’ll never see Cary again. I can’t put myself or him in that kind of danger.”

  The only danger I could think of was her arrest for murder and kidnapping which didn’t put Cary in danger. In fact, it might be a huge relief to him. Who knew how twisted things really were in that family?

  I wanted to keep her talking. “Sally? Sally Vaughn seduced Cary?” I knew it wasn’t Sara Jo, since Roger’s confession to Rick.

  “Oh yes,” she said. “She was clever, pretending to tutor him. But that reporter told me all about it. In detail. I don’t know how she found out, but I know she spent hours talking to him. I never asked if he told her.”

  “Why did you kill Sara Jo?”

  “Besides the fact that she wanted to resume a mother-son relationship with him? Because she was going to expose the whole sordid story, expose my child to scandal. He’d be the laughingstock of his classmates.

  Rather the envy, I suspected. Instead I said, “But he was her child.”

  “No,” she said fiercely. “Don’t ever say that again. He was my child. I raised him from the time he was barely walking. All she did was give birth to him. We’re lucky he didn’t have fetal alcohol syndrome. She was a tramp. It wasn’t hard to kill her at all. She deserved it.”

  A shiver shook my whole body at the harshness of her tone. It began to dawn on me I was driving with a sociopath, and she was holding a loaded gun on me. Not good odds.

  We reached Kaufman and had to slow to go around the square. That was where Rick caught up with us, staying discreetly back in his private, unmarked car, but I knew it was him. I almost let out a huge sigh of relief, but I bit my lip to keep it back.

  Once out of Kaufman, we merged onto 175 and began to cross that long flat stretch that leads to the incline up to Crandall. I doubted I could get away with running the car off the road, though my mind was frantically trying to come up with a plan. As we neared Crandall, I noticed there were no other cars on the road, except for that lone car following us.

  Bonnie was so wrapped up in her vengeance, she didn’t notice. “I wouldn’t have had to do this if Roger weren’t such a weakling,” she said, waving the gun around wildly. “Man has no backbone. Couldn’t stand him.” The hatred in her tone made me turn toward her briefly, and I saw the coldest eyes I’d ever looked into. “I only stayed because of Cary, and when it came to protecting my boy, I did what I had to. I’m not sorry. I just wish I could see him grow up into the fine young man he’s going to be.”

  Yeah, sure, with a background like this! “What will you do?”

  “Go somewhere, establish a new identity and start all over again. I’m a pro at it. We did it all those years to hide from Sara Jo, and I resented every move we made, every time we changed our name, every time I had to forge a new birth certificate with the latest name so I could register Cary in school. Oh, yes, I knew how to do those things. I grew up on the shady side of the law. Cary never asked about it, bless him! But we decided to stay in Wheeler until he graduated, no matter what.” She crossed her arms as though to show determination—but the gun was still pointing at me. “And then she found us.”

  “Did you shoot out the windows of the B&B?” I asked to distract her. A little flattery, even about gun skills, never hurt anyone-at least I hoped it wouldn’t backfire and hurt me. “If so, you’re pretty good with a shotgun.”

  “’Course I am. I grew up on a dirt-poor ranch in West Texas, shooting birds and squirrels and sometimes bigger game for dinner. I know how to use a shotgun.”

  I wondered how much she knew about handguns, though Lord knows I didn’t know anything about them.

  Ahead I spotted a roadblock—sawhorses and state trooper cars plus Chester Grimes’ car blocking the road. Bonnie saw it about the same time.

  “Drive on through it,” she ordered. “You can make it through those sawhorses to the side. Good thing you’re a good driver.” She’d been waving the gun around, but now she pointed it directly at me.

  I was tempted to close my eyes and aim for the sawhorses, but I knew I might miss and hit a trooper—or kill us. So heart pounding and eyes wide open, I drove though the sawhorses, though I did slow down some. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chester standing by the nearest car. I felt a bump and looked back to see him crumple on the ground. One trooper ran to him, while the other fired some useless shots in our direction. “He’s hurt! I’ve probably killed one of my best friends.”

  “Drive,” she ordered. “If he’s dead, you can’t do anything. If he’s not, they’ll take care of him, and it will divert attention from us.”

  Once again I was amazed at her casual attitude toward death—that is everyone’s but her own.

  Just then we both realized Rick had also driven through the barricade where we broke it, carefully skirting the scene around Chester. But he was close on our tail. Bonnie did an amazing thing that made me think she didn’t know as much about handguns as she did about shotguns. She leaned out her window and began shooting at Rick. I prayed and drove, counting bullets as she fired wildly. One, two, three…I had no idea how many bullets were in the chamber of her gun. To my everlasting relief, I heard the futile click as she tried an empty chamber.

  It was now or never. Without slowing I headed for a low bar ditch and a clump of trees and bramble on our side of the road. She turned, pointed the empty gun at me, and tried to fire it. Defeated, she threw it on the floor and began to scratch and claw at my right arm, shouting, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Get back on the road.”

  I fought her off as best I could, but I needed both hands on the wheel. She reached for my face, and I took one hand off the wheel to pull her hair—hard, until she screamed. With one hand I guided the SUV into the trees, hearing the scratches on the metal, and finally came to a halt against a tree that blocked her from opening the passenger door. In one swift movement, I freed my seat belt and jumped from the car while she pounded on her door. Standing beside the open driver’s door, I heard her curse and then saw her clamber across the gear and under the steering wheel. As she stuck one leg
out and reached for the door to pull herself out, I slammed it shut with every ounce of strength my anger gave me.

  I think, though I couldn’t be certain, I heard the sickening crunch of breaking bone. I know I heard a cry of terrible pain from her. But I stood there, holding the door tight until Rick came up and nudged me out of the way.

  David had jumped out of the passenger seat of Rick’s car. He enveloped me in his arms, and said, “I’m so glad I didn’t lose you. I couldn’t stand it.”

  I sobbed into his chest, wetting his shirt thoroughly, but he just stood there, holding me tight while I shook and cried.

  Rick opened the car door and advised Bonnie of her rights.

  She managed to yell, “Rights, hell! Get me help. I’m in terrible pain. I think my leg’s been crushed. Maybe my hand, too.”

  Rick turned toward us, and David released me to get a hug from Rick, his eyes full of worry and admiration. “You took an awful chance.”

  Was he lecturing me again? “I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t go all the way to Dallas with her. I’m sure she would have killed me. You should have heard her talk. I have a full confession.”

  “But no admissible evidence. It will be hearsay. I imagine we’ll get a confession out of her now though. The big thing is that you’re all right, Kate. That’s the only thing that matters.” He looked over at David. “It’s one of many things he and I agree on.”

  “Jess?”

  “Report I got while driving is that she’s bruised, scraped, and scared, but she’ll be all right. The scrapes and bruises will heal. The scared may take longer.”

  The one I was afraid to ask. “Chester?”

  “Lucky. Broken leg, I think. Maybe contusions. Ambulances should be here any minute. David was a master of communication while I drove, even up to the last-minute report on Chester.”

  Somehow I managed to stammer, “That was Carolyn’s ‘dread in her bones,’ wasn’t it?”

  He grinned. “I guess so, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

  I didn’t want to sound accusing, but I couldn’t resist asking, “Why did it take you so long to follow us.”

 

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