by Tonya Kappes
“Ricky was the driver for Otis Peavler after Otis lost his license.” It was time to come clean because I knew Aunt Maxi would’ve never gone along with snooping around. “I thought it’d be safer to take someone. Patrick would never like this and Mom would run and tell you, so I just figured.”
“You figured wrong. Take me home this instant.” She flung back into the seat then crossed her arms.
“You don’t feel safe with me?” Ricky questioned.
“Listen, I’m investigating this murder.” I looked between them.
“You’re a coffee maker,” Aunt Maxi reminded me in a flat voice and a face to match.
“I thought you were a lawyer.” Ricky put the car in park. “And that you were helping get justice for Otis.”
“I am a lawyer and I’m a coffee maker,” I gnawed on my lip. My brows furrowed. “And I’m also Otis’s friend. There are many reasons for me to help Spencer solve this.”
“Spencer Shepard?” Ricky asked.
I nodded.
“I’ve got a call from him on my phone about Otis. He said he looked me up by Otis’s phone records. But what’s your story?” he questioned. “And why do you think I’m not safe?”
“I’m a lawyer, only not a practicing one. Otis was my friend and I own The Bean Hive where he came in every day.” I paused.
“Yeah, yeah.” Ricky looked down his nose at me. “He’s brought me some of your treats before. You make some good coffee.”
“Thank you.” I was so glad to hear Otis had talked about my coffee.
“Get on with it.” Aunt Maxi glared.
“Anyway, I have this knack for putting clues together.” I started to tell my story before Aunt Maxi interrupted.
“She has a knack for sticking her nose into places it don’t belong, murder being one of them.” She huffed and puffed up. “I don’t know what you’ve got to do with Otis, but she’s using you for it and I don’t like her snooping one bit because it’s gonna get her killed.”
There was a knock at the window and we all jumped. Juanita and Sheldon stood next to the car.
“Are y’all alright?” Juanita questioned.
“You need a ride?” Sheldon asked behind her shivering. The snow had fallen much thicker than it’d been all week. “Mama said that we needed to stop and see if y’all were stuck.”
“Oh no.” Aunt Maxi snarled. “We’re trying to figure out what’s going on ourselves, but I’d be mighty grateful if you’d give me a ride to my house while Roxy and Ricky here play Columbo.”
“I love that show,” Juanita said to Sheldon who looked all confused and opened the door for Aunt Maxi to get out. “We can take you home.”
“Well, what’s it going to be?” Ricky looked at me.
“It looks like it’s me and you,” I said and rolled down my window. “I’ll see you later!” I called out to Aunt Maxi.
“Before we go anywhere, I want you to tell me the truth.” Ricky wasn’t about to drive.
After a brief rundown of who I was and how I’d helped Spencer out in the past, though he wasn’t about to admit that he didn’t need my help, Ricky seemed to take me for what I was, a friend trying to figure out a mutual friend’s murder.
“Then you don’t need to go to the grocery. I can tell you that he went to the grocery after church to pick up groceries for his friend in the nursing home.”
“So that’s what you meant when you said nursing home. But who’s in the nursing home?” I asked.
“That I don’t know. He was very quiet about it, but he did get me my night shift job there as a security officer. He was a good man.” He gave a weak smile as though he were having memories of Otis.
“Then I think I need to go to the nursing home.” I nodded.
“It’s clear up in Lexington,” he said turning around and looking at me in the rearview mirror.
“So that’s why it became an all-day affair.” Some of those puzzle pieces were coming together, but there were a few that needed to be answered. “I don’t care. I need to know exactly where Otis was going and who he’d seen.”
“Sounds good.” Ricky put the car back in drive.
There was some chit-chat back and forth, but he truly didn’t know anything else other than the fact that Otis needed a driver. They’d mainly bonded over tattoos and old stories that Otis would tell him.
“Here we are.” Ricky woke me up.
“I’m so sorry. I spent most of the night awake thinking about Otis.” I pushed myself up in the seat and looked out the window.
The nursing home was a nice red brick building with a circular drive. There looked to be one main building that had two wings off each side of it. Across from the main building were townhome-type buildings.
“Those are more for the couples who can take care of themselves and they can live on their own with little assistance.” He pointed out the windshield to the right wing. “Over there is the really bad patients and over there is where Otis would go. Those patients have a little apartment and can live on their own but not take full care of themselves. That’s where Otis would go.”
“You never went in with him?” I asked.
“Nope. I’d sit out here for at least three or four hours while he visited whoever’s in there.” He put the car in park. “I figure you won’t be three or four hours.”
“No.” I grabbed my purse. “You wait right here.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He tugged the hat down over his brows and rested his head on the headrest.
The nippy cold air whipped around my neck as the flurries danced along with it. I snuggled the edges of my coat up around me chin and with my head down, running into the front of the building. There was a welcome desk in the front that was vacant, a full dining room off to the right that looked to be filled and hallways on both sides. The white board welcomed family members and had a list of activities for everyone.
Since Ricky said Otis went to the left side of the building, I headed that way. Along the way I couldn’t help but notice there was a library, a recreation room where some residents were doing jigsaw puzzles, an indoor swimming pool and a movie theater. This was as swanky of a nursing home as I’d ever seen.
There was a small café with coffee, scones, and a lunch menu that had a counter and stools. Outside there was a courtyard. Plus the place was decorated with all sorts of Christmas trees. This place didn’t look like any nursing home I’d ever heard about.
I walked through what looked like a family room with some couches and a television. There was a fire in the fireplace from fake logs, but it looked so real.
“Hi, there.” A young lady with a nurse’s jacket on approached me. “Can I help you find someone?”
“Yes.” I opened my purse and took out Otis’s obituary. “Have you ever seen my friend Otis here?”
The young lady took the paper and let out an audible gasp. When she looked up at me, she closed her mouth and frowned.
“He died?” she asked and handed it back to me.
“He was murdered. And I’m his lawyer. I’m trying to get in touch with loved ones about it while leaving all the investigation to the Honey Springs police department.” I shouldn’t have been so surprised by all the lies I was getting used to saying, but I had to admit I was getting good. “Can you tell me anything about the last time you saw him?”
“I wasn’t here, but I do know the doctors told him about Iris. He was really upset. And I’m going to miss those weekly cookies.” She looked down at the ground.
“Do you recall the date the doctors talked to him?” That’s where he was taking my cookies.
“It was about a month ago when they told him Iris had to be moved. I mean, she’s been here for about thirty years and we knew the disease would get worse, and when it did, they told him it would be bad. They were right.” Her eyes dipped.
“Who was right?” I asked.
“The neurologist.” Her brows furrowed. “There’s no cure for dementia.”
“I
ris has dementia,” I whispered to myself. Who was Iris? “She’s passed?”
“Dead?” She looked at me like I was a whacko. “She’s moved upstairs. She can’t even brush her teeth anymore.”
“She’s upstairs right now?” I looked at the ceiling and then around to figure out how I got upstairs.
“I can’t guarantee that she’ll know you since you’re their lawyer and not in her life everyday, but I’m more than happy to take you to visit her.” The young woman offered.
“That would be great.” How lucky was I that I didn’t have to say anything and she just assumed.
We headed down a different hall and she had to use her badge to get into a couple of the double doors before we took a flight of stairs.
“We have an elevator, but I like to get in some exercise while I’m at work.” She took a couple steps at a time.
“How long have you been here?” I asked.
“Five years. Not as long as Iris. But all us girls just love Otis and. . .” She stopped talking when we got to the nurses station.
The floor she brought me to was much different than the ground floor. The downstairs looked like an apartment building with different doors that had numbers and even wreaths on them. Up here the residents of the nursing home were in beds behind some glass doors. It was hard to look at for me.
“This is,” the young lady stopped and laughed, “I’m sorry I didn’t even get your name.”
“Roxanne Bloom.” I turned back to the nurses.
“She’s Iris Peavler’s lawyer. Did you know that Otis died?” she asked the other nurses.
“Oh no. I’m so sorry to hear that.” They all looked at each other. “I wondered why he’d not been here recently.”
“Anyway, I told her that Iris probably wouldn’t know her, but she’d like to visit anyway.” She turned to me. “We do ask that you not tell her about Otis. We aren’t sure how she’d respond. Though she didn’t recognize him at all and it about killed him.”
“Of course I wouldn’t,” I agreed.
“I’ll be more than happy to take you.” Another nurse walked around the nurses’ station and pointed me to go down the hall. “I’m going to have to warn you that she’s taken a turn for the worse since she was moved up here.”
“What are the criteria for her to have been moved?” I asked.
“When dementia patients can’t take care of themselves, we move them here for twenty-four-hour, round-the-clock care.” She stopped next to a set of glass doors.
“Is there a cost difference?” I asked.
“There is but I’m not sure what it is.” She pushed open the sliding glass door.
“Is it safe to say that downstairs is about five thousand dollars?” I asked.
“It is.” She confirmed my suspicion that Otis was paying for Iris’s care. “Iris,” the nurse called to the lady sitting in the chair. “Do you remember your friend Roxanne?”
Iris was a very thin woman sitting in the brown recliner. Her eyes were focused on the television hanging on the wall. She had short grey hair and was pasty white.
“I’ll leave you. If you need anything, please just open the door and stick your head out.” The nurse dismissed herself.
“Who are you?” the woman asked.
“I’m Roxanne Bloom. A friend of your brother Otis.” I took a step toward the shelf that had some framed photos sitting on it.
“I don’t have a brother.” Her voice was quiet and sweet.
“Otis Peavler,” I said and noticed the photo of her and Otis when they looked much younger. They were standing on each side of a young man in a red cap and graduation gown.
“I told him not to get all them tattoos, but he loves them. I never let him give me one.” She laughed. “But that’s my Otis. He’ll be back in a little bit. He just stepped out to go church.”
“Otis is your husband?” My mouth dried. My heart beat rapidly. Did Juanita know this?
“Ten years now.” She smiled.
Ten years? I knew she was confused but didn’t bother with questioning her. My rapid heart literally stopped beating, or I felt like it did when I saw the photo.
“Can’t be.” I stepped closer to the frame and bent over to get a real close look. I couldn’t take a deep breath. I gulped. I pulled the photo Walker had left at the Cocoon and held it next to the frame. It was the exact same photo.
My eyes darted back over to the graduation photo and when I took a long look into the eyes of the boy, I could tell it was Walker.
Thirteen
“That was a quick visit.” The young nurse who’d brought me up to this floor was still standing at the nurses’ station.
“Um. . .” I fumbled for words. “I’ll be back.”
I wouldn’t be back, but Spencer Shepard would when I told him that I think Otis had a family and Walker, his son, had killed him.
My legs couldn’t carry me as fast as my mind was racing. I grabbed the stair railing as I nearly knocked down someone. They caught me from falling.
“Roxy?” The voice caught me off guard. It was Walker. He towered over me on the step and had a grip on my arm. “What are you doing here?”
“You,” I said through gritted teeth. I jerked away from him. “You murderer.”
“What?” He straightened his body.
“You are Otis Peavler’s son.” I tapped my head with my finger. “You came to Honey Springs to see your dad and you killed him.”
“Wait just a second. Did you say my dad is dead?” He gulped. There was a shock on his face that took me by surprise.
“From you.” I continued to jab at him. I took a step to get around him. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” He put his arm out. “You’ve got some answers that I need.”
“Save it for the police.” I pulled my cell out of my back pocket.
He grabbed it out of my hands.
“Give it to me or I’ll scream.” I warned and got a little jittery when I realized that I’d gotten myself into another sticky situation and no one was in the stairwell with us.
He handed me the phone and I darted down the steps.
“If you’re going to the police then I’m going with you.” He ran along beside me.
“This isn’t how this goes.” I stopped when we made it into the hallway of the first floor and there were some people there. “You’re supposed to run or something.”
“I have nothing to run from. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I went to Honey Springs to find my dad. I thought I recognized him that day we were on the boardwalk but I didn’t want to say anything in front of you.” He sucked in a deep breath. “That night at the Christmas tree lighting, I was going to say something to him, but lost my nerve.” His face went blank. “The person under the tree, was that my dad?”
“Oh right.” I was having a hard time not believing him but this was so weird to me. “Like you didn’t do it.”
“Why would I kill my dad?” he asked.
“Because he had a whole other family.” I stared him down. “He was a good man. No.” I shook my head. “He was a great man.”
I scrolled through my phone until I came across Spencer’s phone number.
“Who are you calling?” he asked.
“Hi, Spencer. It’s Roxy. I’ve got Otis’s killer at the Glad Tiding Nursing Home in Lexington.” There was a little hemming and hawing on the other end of the phone from Spencer. “Listen, it doesn’t matter how I know. Just get here.”
“Give me the phone.” Walker jerked the phone, again, from my hands. “Hi, this is Walker Peavler. My father is Otis Peavler and I understand from Roxy Bloom that my father is dead.”
I couldn’t believe what was happening. Here he stood acting as if there was no reason in the world to kill his own father and acting very innocent.
“I’ll be more than happy to get a ride back with Roxy to Honey Springs and tell you about me and my family. I’m sure we’ll be there shortly.” He handed
my phone back to me.
“Hello?” I asked when I got back on the phone and Spencer wasn’t there. “He hung up.” I held the phone out in disbelief.
“He’s expecting me and you at the station.” Walker gestured for me to go ahead of him.
“Oh no.” I wagged my finger knowing he’d take off running or something to get away. “You go first.”
“Fine.” He shrugged and started to head toward the door. “What happened to my dad?”
My Uber was still waiting in the parking lot.
“You can ask Spencer all the questions you want.” I pointed to Ricky.
“Did you pick yourself up a date in there?” Ricky got out of the car and looked Walker up and down. “Dang. I’ve worked here a few weeks and not picked up a single gal.”
“You do work here.” I’d completely forgotten he’d said that Otis had gotten him a security job here. “Have you ever seen this guy?”
He looked at Walker.
“Nope.” He shook his head.
“That’s because I just got here a couple of days ago.” Walker pointed to Ricky. “Who is this? Your boyfriend?”
“No,” Ricky and I said in unison.
“He’s Otis’s Uber driver and I’m trying to figure out who killed him.” I pointed to Walker. “Now I know it was you.”
“It seems the two of you have some things to work out.” Ricky looked between me and Walker. “I can go on in to do my shift early if you two need to hash out some stuff.”
“I’ve got my car here. How much for the Uber?” Walker pulled out his wallet. “Will the fifty do?” He handed Ricky a fifty-dollar bill.
“Yes, sir.” Ricky snapped it out of Walker’s fingers.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I protested.
“Really? The police know that we are together. Trust me, if we don’t show up at the Honey Springs department in like twenty, they’ll be looking for us.” He had a point.
“You can kill someone in seconds.” I made a better point.
“I didn’t kill my dad. My mom got sick about thirty years ago. Dad brought her here. I was a kid fresh out of high school. She was a young mother with this memory issue. She didn’t know me. I was a kid. It was devastating. It was easiest to go off to college and never look back.” He shuffled his feet in the thin layer of snow on the pavement. “I’m not proud of that. My mom didn’t know me. She stopped knowing my dad shortly after that. He came to see her every week from what I’d gathered from the women in there. Now that I’m older, I’m ashamed of how I’ve acted. I want a relationship with my dad. He was hurt by my actions.”
