by Edie Claire
Leigh needed a cat. She got up and scooped Snowbell off the bed, then returned and placed the unresisting lump in her lap. The cat immediately began to purr. There, that’s better.
“Go on,” Warren said, leaning forward.
“Well, first off, there’s no question she did it,” Hap explained. “Manny confirmed that she asked him for the key to the cupola Tuesday, and that she brought it back about two hours later. She said she was going to do some sketching, and he didn’t have any reason not to believe her. We’ve never had a problem like this before. When I caught up with her yesterday, she admitted getting the key from Manny, but claimed she’d accidentally left the whole ring sticking out of the door the while she was sketching, and that anyone could have taken it out and put it back. Unfortunately, she made a pretty solid case for herself, since we both knew she probably would do something that bone-headed.”
“And yet she thinks pretty quick on her feet,” Warren noted.
Hap’s thick lips twisted into a frown. “More like she had overnight to get her story straight,” he argued. “She’d been hiding out until then, avoiding me. But I couldn’t leave it like that, so I told her I was going to have a talk with Bruce about the situation.”
Leigh remembered the tense conversation she’d overheard through the wall her first night at the Silver King.
We’re each going to get our fair share, I promise you. Just like Mom and Dad wanted, the man had said. Bruce? His voice was higher and more nasally than the younger brother, Russell, who had spoken to Leigh at the beach.
What they wanted? Sharonna had spat back at him. You think this is what Dad wanted?
“Well,” Hap continued, “When I mentioned her brother’s name, Sharonna straightened up and got serious real quick. Said there was no reason bringing Bruce or anybody else into it, that the hotel was her baby since she practically lived there, and that she could handle the situation herself. She claimed she’d hire a locksmith to rekey all the guestrooms and said she’d personally report the situation to Del Mayfield.”
Hap paused and scratched his head. “Since she is part owner and technically my boss, that was hard to argue with. I didn’t think she’d tell the chief bupkis, but since you guys were safely checked out already I figured I’d give her the rest of the day, and then I’d go see him myself first thing this morning.”
“And did you?” Leigh asked.
Hap’s eyes, which were looking distinctly bloodshot, seemed regretful. “I tried, but I got delayed here at the office, and by the time I got to the police station they’d all been called out to the preserve.”
Leigh did not need to ask why. She had seen Del there herself.
“What Manny had to tell me this morning complicated things,” Hap went on, sounding increasingly discouraged. “You see, for Sharonna, doing something stupid and screwball on impulse and then lying to cover it up is par for the course. She’s been pulling that sort of nonsense her whole life. But what she did last night was different.”
Leigh buried her hands in warm cat fur, absorbing the soothing rumble beneath her fingertips.
“Right around midnight, she showed up at the front desk with a bottle of imported beer and started acting like Manny was the hottest number in South Texas,” Hap explained. “Now, don’t get me wrong. I’ve heard my own wife talk about what a looker that boy is. But Sharonna’s never given him the time of day before, and truth be told I’ve never seen the woman chase after any man. She’s too used to being the one getting chased. But she starts cozying up to Manny nevertheless and tells him she’s decided to take more of an interest in the Silver King and she’s thinking it’s about time she made him manager. Then she practically crawls in his lap and begs him to show her how the computer works, because — get this — she always thought it would be fun to be a desk clerk.”
Warren made a whistling sound under his breath. “Subtle.”
Hap sighed and looked at Leigh. “Don’t you worry, honey. Manny may not come from money, but he’s sharper than five Sharonnas. He told her the server was down, and then he got out some old logbooks and pretended like he was having to figure out a bunch of bills with a pencil and a calculator.” Hap chuckled bitterly. “He said all he had to do was make an honest effort to explain to her how all the charges were itemized and how to add the tax and everything, and she found an excuse to get out of that office right quick.”
Leigh let out a laugh, but the sound was hollow. She could sense that Warren was growing more anxious as well.
Hap leaned forward. “The thing is, trying to trick Manny into giving her access to that computer was devious. Sharonna planned it ahead of time. She also knew she was taking a risk, since I was watching her. That means that whatever information she wanted, she wanted it bad.” He paused and exhaled loudly. “Until this morning, I thought her picking your room to rifle through was sheer bad luck. No rhyme or reason to it. But now I know better. I checked in with Rosina and found out Sharonna’s asked two of the maids if they knew exactly when you checked out and what kind of car you were driving.”
“What?” Warren cried.
“They didn’t say anything,” Hap assured. “Rosina has them all pretending they can’t speak English whenever they get inappropriate questions, and Sharonna’s never learned a word of Spanish.” He turned to Leigh. “The long and short of it is, Sharonna wants to know where you’ve gone. For whatever reason, she seems a mite obsessed with you. You have any idea why that might be?”
Warren let his hands drop down onto the tabletop with a thud. “It’s not just Sharonna, Hap!” he informed, throwing an accusatory sideways glance at Leigh. “It’s Bruce and Russell, too! They both acted like they recognized her when they saw her!”
“Are you kidding me?” Hap exclaimed.
Now both men were staring at Leigh wide-eyed, and she wished she could take her cat, slide down under the table, and keep going. After her disturbing lunch at Finney Enterprises yesterday, she had treated herself to a fabulous boat cruise, during which she had put her blistered feet up and spent the afternoon watching bottle-nosed dolphins playing in the channels. She had told Warren all about it on their drive home and then he’d turned in early… could she have neglected to mention her little adventure with Janelle?
She cleared her throat and braced herself. “Actually, all four of them seem to know me,” she admitted.
“What?” Hap shouted, bolting out of his seat. “What do you mean they ‘know’ you? Why didn’t you say something?”
“Yes, why didn’t you?” Warren added sardonically.
“Because it didn’t seem like that big of a deal!” Leigh insisted. “It’s not like anybody was threatening me. It’s just that I look like somebody all the Finneys know… or at least somebody they used to know.” She described, in terms as brief as possible, her encounters with the other three siblings. “There really was nothing sinister in any of it. I wouldn’t have given it any thought at all if it weren’t for the murder of that CFO. And I have no reason to believe that any of that is related to what happened to Stanley, either,” she finished defensively.
The men settled gradually back down into their chairs.
“I don’t know what to make of Stanley’s death,” Hap said quietly. “I’m still hoping the rumors are wrong and that he died of natural causes. But Leigh, honey, I don’t care for the rest of it one bit. I haven’t even finished telling you about Sharonna.”
Leigh could feel Warren tense up again. She raised an armful of cat and buried her face in the fluff.
“The local police had their hands full all day,” Hap continued. “So I never did get to see Del. But I did confront Sharonna again this morning. I told her I knew what she was up to with Manny, and she broke down like a child. Cried a river of tears, begged me not to tell the police or Bruce about it. When I pressed her for an explanation she told me that you were a classmate of hers from Ole Miss, and that you’d been blackmailing her for years over something that happened when you were bo
th in college. She admitted she went through your room, but insisted she was only looking for what belonged to her. I asked her if she found it and she said no, that’s why she needs to know where you’ve gone now.”
Leigh lowered the cat. “Wow,” she said after a moment. Could Sharonna possibly be telling the truth? “Did she actually go to Ole Miss?”
Hap shrugged. “Cortland said once that she failed out of college, but I don’t remember him saying where.”
“What did you tell her?” Warren asked.
“Nothing,” Hap replied. “I couldn’t. She has no idea you’re family. As far as she’s concerned I don’t know the two of you from a hole in the wall.”
“Well, that’s for the best,” Warren agreed.
“Except that I couldn’t convince her that it was a case of mistaken identity,” Hap replied. “Then again, for all I know, her whole story’s a lie anyway.”
“Would all three of her siblings know a classmate of hers from her college days in Mississippi?” Warren asked.
Hap pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Lord knows. I can’t say that would be impossible. But it seems more likely to me that she made the whole thing up.”
For a long moment, the inside of the motorhome fell quiet. The only sound was the loud rumble of Snowbell’s constant purring.
“Hap,” Warren asked finally. “What is your perception of how the Finney family business has been doing since Bruce took over?”
Hap shook his head. “I have no idea. But I can’t imagine it’s going well. Bruce is all bluster. He talks a good game, but he’s a know-nothing. Cortland was always trying to pull him more into the business, teach him the ropes, but Bruce was the type that always acted like he knew everything already. With Cortland dying so suddenly like that, I expect Bruce got thrown in way over his head.”
Warren looked intrigued. “So you wouldn’t say the son was chafing at the bit to take over?”
Hap laughed out loud. “Are you kidding? All Bruce has ever wanted is to live well and look like somebody important. Hell, I don’t think he even cares about power. If he wanted to go into an office and order people around, he could have been doing that anytime in the last twenty years. He acted like he was allergic.”
“Not a keen business mind, then?” Warren pressed.
“Born lazy and dimwitted to boot,” Hap said uncharitably. “And Sharonna and Russell were never any more interested in learning the business than he was. Janelle was game, but Cortland never took her seriously.”
“Do you think maybe she’s the one running things now?” Warren asked.
Hap’s brow creased. “I don’t know her. And I can’t say Cortland had an unbiased view. But he told me more than once that although Janelle had a good head for math, she ‘lacked her mama’s common sense.’”
“Interesting,” Warren said thoughtfully. “So you can’t see the four of them making a success of the company in their father’s absence?”
Hap scoffed. “It’d go belly up in a week if the four of them were actually running it. They couldn’t pluck a chicken together. Cort’s people are still managing things, I’m sure.” His face darkened. “Except for the CFO, now.”
He stood up again and put a hand on Leigh’s shoulder. “Listen, darlin’, I don’t like the thought of you getting accidentally tied up in anything those Finney kids have going on. Neither Sharonna nor any of them know you’re family, and they don’t know you’re staying here, and we aim to keep it that way.”
“The local police know,” Leigh reminded. “They got my information this morning. But I’m sure Del Mayfield didn’t think my face looked familiar. For what that’s worth.”
“Del’s a decent guy,” Hap said quickly. “He may let his buddies off the hook for some minor shenanigans here and there, but he’s not going to stand by and let innocent people get hurt.”
“Good to know,” Leigh replied, trying not to sound as skeptical as she felt.
“You’re safe as a bug in a rug right here with us,” Hap assured, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “None of them kids have a reason in the world to be hanging around an RV park with a bunch of snowbirds. And if you wear that get-up Bev was describing when you go out, you could walk right in front of them and they’d never know it. Especially if you hang a pair of binocs around your neck and mosey along with the other birders.”
“That’s my plan,” Leigh confessed.
“Good,” Hap said amiably. He headed for the door. Leigh rose and walked with him, Warren right behind her. Hap was about to say goodbye when her conscience got the best of her. Her nature was to downplay the unpleasant, particularly when people were worried about her. But Hap was going to find out the truth sooner or later, and since he was doing his best to help, the least she could do was provide him with all the facts.
“Hap?” she called, stopping him on the steps.
He turned around.
“Stanley Hutchins was murdered.”
Chapter 13
Leigh scooted her chair closer to Warren’s, which was already jammed up against a window of the Mesten Grande’s Community Center. She wanted desperately to open that window, but Bev had closed and locked every one of them before the meeting started. “Everybody doesn’t need to hear our business,” the activities director had said stubbornly. Unfortunately, despite the early evening hour and the cooling temperature outside, the air inside was already stuffy from sheer density of people.
As the crowd continued to grow, Leigh was beginning to wonder if there would be anyone left outside to overhear. When Bev had called an emergency meeting of what she termed “serious birders only” to discuss “an urgent ornithological matter,” Leigh had expected roughly the same group she had met on the walk this morning. But evidently, Bev had advertised this gathering beyond the tony gates of the Grande, reaching out to birding enthusiasts all over Port Mesten.
Leigh still wasn’t sure what was going on. All she knew was what Hap had told her, that he and Bev wanted to do something for Stanley, something that might help Leigh’s situation as well. Leigh and Warren had been invited to come to the meeting early and take seats up front. Everyone else who attempted to enter would have to prove their credentials first.
“No, I’m sorry,” Sue said without emotion, waving the would-be entrant to the side from her post at the door. “This event is for serious birders only.”
The thirty-something woman rejected, who was wearing a swimsuit coverup and flipflops and whose hair was still wet from a swim, propped her hands on her hips with indignation. “But I heard this had something to do with the murders!”
“Well, maybe it does and maybe it doesn’t,” Bonnie said haughtily from the other side of the entrance. “But anyone who can’t tell a northern shoveler from a mallard sure as hell ain’t going to find out!”
Furious, the woman whirled and stomped off. Sue smiled at the next man in line, who could easily pass for ninety. “Hello, sir,” she chirped. “Do you know what this is?” She held up one of several color-printed pages that were covered with pictures of various birds. She pointed to a particular specimen.
The man lifted his spectacles and pulled his head back a comfortable distance from the paper, then said without hesitation, “purple gallinule.”
“Thanks for coming,” Sue said pleasantly, stepping out of his way.
Warren whispered in Leigh’s ear. “You sure they’re not going to wise up at some point and kick the two of us out of here?”
“It could happen,” Leigh admitted.
When it seemed that the little room could hold no more people, and Leigh and Warren had both given up their seats to more elderly attendees, Bev at last shut the door and called the meeting to order. “I’m Bev Taylor, and I’ll be brief,” she began. “Yesterday morning, one of our own was doing something he had every right in this world to do. He was out in a public nature preserve, watching the birds.”
“Amen!” someone shouted. Leigh looked around
with surprise, as did several others, but just as many rumbled their agreement.
“He went out at dawn,” Bev continued, “because he found the birding the best then. It was a nasty, rainy morning, but Stanley Hutchins went out anyway. And by now you know what happened, my friends. Stanley Hutchins was murdered. Someone chased the poor man down and strangled him to death.”
Silence descended. There were a few awkward coughs.
“Now, I know all of you didn’t know Stanley. But that doesn’t matter. Fact is, Stanley wasn’t carrying anything valuable, and as far as anyone knows he wasn’t a drinker or a gambler. Heck, he didn’t spend enough time with other folks to make enemies! He was just another snowbird, minding his own business. Stanley was us, my friends. He was you and me. And while a lot of people out there hear ‘two deaths in one week’ and immediately start thinking ‘serial killer,’ people like us see things a little differently. And we’re all gathered here tonight because we’re thinking the same thing. Aren’t we?”
“Damn straight!” said a man in the back.
“I think he saw something!” cried a woman.
“That’s what I think! Something he wasn’t supposed to see!”
“Had to!”
“It’s witness tampering!”
“Could have been any of us!”
“I’m scared to go out alone anymore!”
“That’s just it!” Bev declared, slapping her hands together. “Somebody out there looked at Stanley and thought — well, he’s seen me. But he’s just one scrawny little old man, I can shut him up easy enough! The murderer saw a man with binoculars and a funny hat and decided he was a weak, vulnerable, loner!”
Bev stood as tall as her diminutive height would allow and puffed out her chest. “Well, guess what? I say we’re not nearly as weak and vulnerable and alone as we look, because we birders have always got each other!”
Wild applause broke out in the airless room.
“Nothing can change what happened to Stanley,” Bev continued, winding up now like a Southern preacher, “but we can do our damnedest to make sure that whoever did this gets exactly what’s coming to them, and that anyone else who gets the same bright idea will think twice before taking on one of us again!”
