by Parnell Hall
“Are those the only alternatives?”
“There’s another. You move out of the house and file suit for divorce.”
Brittany’s mouth fell open. “Are you serious? If I do that, he’s going to really want to kill me.”
“If you don’t like that, there’s only one more option.”
“I thought that was the last option.”
“Naw. I saved the best for last.”
“What’s that?”
“Go to the police.”
Chapter
26
Chief Harper regarded the three women suspiciously. It was not often townspeople requested to see him in his office. When they did, bringing a lawyer was a red flag. Bringing Cora Felton was a flashing neon sign.
“You want to see me?” Harper said. He addressed the remark to Brittany, though realizing the chance she would be the one answering would be next to nil.
“That’s right,” Becky said. “This woman has something to tell you. It’s rather delicate. It requires complete discretion.”
Harper rubbed his forehead, wondered why he’d gotten out of bed. Nothing ever happened in Bakerhaven, except when it did, in which case all hell usually broke loose. And Cora Felton was usually at the bottom of it. This, he realized, wasn’t quite fair. Cora wasn’t the catalyst for such incidents, though she seemed to always be involved. In fact, she was often at the heart of the matter, the central player. The problem to be overcome. With Cora in the mix, it was best to tread lightly.
“Yes?” he said, hoping the question mark would render the statement noncommittal.
“So we may count on your cooperation?” Becky persisted.
“I can’t promise you anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you don’t have something to say, please remember I gave you this opportunity. I would not like to see a TV interview where you claim you went to the police and they wouldn’t listen.”
“My God,” Brittany said. “Is everyone in town crazy, or paranoid, or what? I’d like to talk to you about my husband without worrying you’re going to turn around and tell him. Is that simple enough?”
Harper hesitated. In the back of his mind was the nagging doubt there could be a dozen ways that wouldn’t be simple enough and Cora and Becky would be sure to come up with every one of them.
On the other hand, he wasn’t under oath. “I wasn’t planning on running to your husband. What’s the problem?”
“Let me serve up a hypothetical,” Becky said. Harper groaned. Becky ignored it, went on as if there’d been no interruption. “If her husband were thinking of committing a crime and she informed you of that fact, would you feel obliged to act on it?”
“If you tell me he’s going to rob the bank I’m not going to sit back and watch him do it.”
“Of course not. But you don’t have to tell him his wife ratted him out.”
Chief Harper sighed. “What’s this all about?”
“She thinks her husband’s trying to kill her,” Cora said.
Becky and Brittany glared at her.
“Come on,” Cora said. “We’re never going to get anywhere this way. Here’s the thing. Her husband bought a double-indemnity life insurance policy. He’s got a young floozy in the City. Two million bucks would furnish a pretty nice love nest.”
Harper scowled. “That’s the situation?”
“That’s it in a nutshell.”
“What do you expect me to do about it?”
“Don’t let it happen.”
“And how do you expect me to do that? You don’t want me to confront the husband. I assume you’re not asking for police protection.”
“No, but police presence would be nice.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Cora said. “The guy moved in here less than a year ago. There must be some town ordinance he’s violating. Or at least something you need to check into. So when he gets home from work his wife can say, ‘The police were looking for you.’ Not the type of thing a killer wants to hear.”
“This is absurd,” Harper said. “Do you have anything more to go on than what you’ve given me?”
“No,” Cora said. The fact that she and Melvin had tried to blackmail the husband seemed rather irrelevant.
Harper sighed. It had been such a calm day. Officer Finley had caught a speeder out by the bypass, but that had been it. He rubbed his forehead, cleared his throat.
“Okay.”
An explosion blew out the windows of the police station.
Chapter
27
Outside was a scene of chaos. People were piling from the buildings to see what was going on. In front of the library, a car was on fire. Flames were shooting up to the sky. The whole car appeared to be consumed. The fire roared and crackled; the heat could be felt all the way across the street.
With the fire raging out of control it was impossible to identify the vehicle, but Cora had a good idea whose car it was. She and Brittany had left it parked there and gone to the mall in her own, so if by the slimmest of chances Brittany’s husband had driven by the mall he wouldn’t have seen her car and known she was there. On the other hand, the thought of his searching the library all morning had been rather pleasant.
That was then and this was now. Brittany’s car was a raging inferno. If there was a person in all those flames, it was an entirely different ball game indeed.
Cora squeezed Becky’s arm. “Get her upstairs.”
“Huh?”
“That’s her car, and she’s about to have a meltdown. Get her out of here before she does.”
Becky nodded, grabbed the distraught woman, and skillfully guided her away.
Cora turned back to the scene. Crept as close as she could to the car without being burned. She was still quite a distance away but a lot nearer than the rest of the mob in the street.
“Stay back!” Dan Finley warned.
Dan had managed to grab a yellow crime scene ribbon and was cordoning off the area. It wasn’t easy. There was nothing to anchor the ribbon to without running it across the street. Dan had improvised by backing his cruiser out from the police station and parking it closer to the fire than was probably prudent. He’d rolled down the windows and managed to run the ribbon in the front and out the back. It made for a pretty effective hitching post, but the cruiser was going to fill up with soot.
Cora ducked back behind the ribbon, continued to creep around the car.
“There’s someone in it.”
Cora looked.
A teenage boy had ducked under the ribbon and was pointing at the front seat. Dan Finley immediately chased him away, but the damage had been done. There did indeed appear to be a body in the front seat, and everyone was pointing at it.
Cora wasn’t surprised, but she wasn’t pleased, either. Cora had expected to find a body in the car but wanted to keep it quiet as long as possible. Now people would be calling the TV stations. Though Dan Finley had probably tipped off Rick Reed at Channel Eight already.
Aaron Grant pushed his way through the crowd. Sherry Carter’s young husband had run from his office at the Bakerhaven Gazette without stopping to grab his coat. “You see it happen?”
Cora shook her head. “I came up after. I was in the police station, heard it, and ran out.”
“Did anyone?”
“I don’t know.”
“Whose car?”
“I’m not sure.”
Aaron scowled. “Damn it, TV will be here any minute. What can you give me?”
“You getting out an extra?”
“Not my call.” Aaron lowered his voice. “You got anything you’re not giving them?”
“That I’d want to see in the press?”
“Yeah, I know. Just give me whatever you can.”
“Will do.”
Cora disappeared in the crowd. She felt bad about holding out on Aaron, but at this point there was nothing she could say. If the car was Brittany’s, the ensuing questions would get u
gly. Becky would step in, and all hell would break loose. It would be a toss-up whether Brittany was cast as a victim or a perpetrator.
Cora started around the car in the other direction, where Sam Brogan was being harangued by Fred Burns from the hardware store and Judy Douglas Knauer, the real estate agent, who apparently owned the cars parked next to the flaming wreck. Parking in front of the library was head-in, so not only were the cars next to it at risk, but it was way too hot to move either of them. Cora wasn’t sure just what Sam Brogan was supposed to do about it, but she knew the cranky officer would have a lot to say on the subject later.
Cora spotted Barney Nathan in the crowd. Dapper as ever in his red bow tie, the doctor had run from his office in mid-examination. His patient wasn’t complaining; she’d run out to see what was happening, too.
Cora weaved her way over to Barney. He looked guilty to see her, as he always did since they’d broken off their brief affair. At least brief by her standards. It being Barney’s first affair, he found the whole thing momentous.
“Hey, Barney. Got a minute?”
Barney looked like he’d been propositioned in the street. “What do you want?”
“The body’s toast. You’re not getting near it anytime soon. Whaddya say you make yourself useful?”
Barney just gawked. Cora put her arm around his shoulders, which undoubtedly added to his discomfit. “The woman whose car blew up is hysterical. The charcoal briquette in the front seat is probably her husband. You think you could check her out, see if she needs a sedative? She’s in pretty bad shape.”
“Where is she?”
“Up in Becky Baldwin’s office.”
Barney gave her a look.
“She had nothing to do with it, Barney. She was actually in the police station when it happened.”
“The police station?”
“Of her own accord,” Cora said impatiently. “She was talking to Harper; there was an explosion outside. You can ask the chief.”
“All right. As soon as EMS gets here I’ll check her out.”
“They’re not going to be able to get near the body, either.”
“Maybe not. I still have to tell them what I want done. Don’t worry, I’ll be up.”
Relieved she wasn’t hitting on him, Barney escaped into the crowd.
Cora continued her inspection of the crime scene. There were still several cars parked in front of the library. None were close enough to the fire to be in danger, and no one had wanted to drive off. Cora checked them out and stopped dead.
Brittany’s car was parked there. At least it looked like Brittany’s car. Was that where she parked, or was it two spaces over? When Cora’d come back from chasing Brittany’s husband she’d noted the car was there, figured Brittany was already in the bakeshop. But as to exactly where it was parked, Cora couldn’t have sworn to it.
The license plate was JRV 715. Was that Brittany’s or Hank’s? She had no idea. Some detective.
Chief Harper came walking up. “There’s a body in the car.”
“So I understand.”
“Who is it?”
“I was hoping you could tell me. Burned beyond recognition?”
“Looks like it.”
“Can’t help you, Chief.”
“Funny thing it happens while you’re in my office asking for help.”
“You find that funny?”
“I find it suspicious.”
“Suspicious of what? I assure you I had nothing to do with that fire.”
“Maybe not directly.”
“Directly, indirectly, I—”
An explosion rocked the street. People dived for cover. Even Cora and the chief were on the ground. An unpleasant experience. The fire had melted the snow and ice, creating a holy mess. Cora clambered to her feet, wiped the slush off her face. Chief Harper had a streak of mud across his.
“Damn,” Harper said.
Cora cocked her head. “I don’t suppose that’s going to help the identification any.”
Chapter
28
Cora burst into Becky’s office. “What’s the plate number on your car?”
Brittany looked annoyed. “Huh?”
“Your license plate. What’s the number?”
“Why?”
“There’s two Chevy Impalas in front of the library, and I want to know if the one burning is yours.”
Brittany gasped. “You mean…?”
“Yes, I mean,” Cora said. “If it’s your car, there’s some question as to whether that body in the front seat is Hank. If it’s his car…”
Brittany’s eyes were wide. She looked on the verge of hysterics. “I don’t understand.”
“You and me both, sister. One way or another Chief Harper’s going to be up here asking questions.” Cora turned to Becky. “You gonna want your client to answer?”
Becky looked at Brittany. “What’s your license number?”
“I-I-”
“Snap out of it,” Cora said. “You think these questions are tough? Wait’ll Chief Harper starts asking. I’ll make it easy for you. Is your number JRV seven-one-five?”
“No. That’s Hank’s car.”
“Good. Your car blew up. Your husband’s car’s parked nearby. It looks like he tried to put a car bomb in your glove compartment and it blew up on him. Which will let you off the hook.”
“Maybe so,” Becky said, “but you’re not telling your story yet.”
“Why not?”
“There’s too many things we don’t know.”
“Don’t sugarcoat it, Becky,” Cora said. “Your husband’s dead. If it wasn’t an accident, you’re the chief suspect. The wife always is. Keep quiet till you know the score.”
“Won’t that make me look guilty?”
“Don’t worry,” Becky said. “You’re not refusing to answer questions; you’re just too upset. It’s been a huge shock.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Remember,” Becky said, “if that’s the police, I’m making all the statements.”
It was Dr. Nathan with his medical bag.
“Oh, hi, Barney,” Cora said. “Brittany, do you know Dr. Nathan? I asked him to stop in and see if you needed help. Barney, she’s very upset. The dead man is probably her husband.”
Barney took a stethoscope out of his bag, smiled at Brittany. “Okay, Brittany. Take a breath. Relax as much as you can. Put yourself in my hands.”
“Sure thing, Doc,” Cora said. “We’ll leave you to it.”
Cora herded Becky out the door.
“What the hell?” Becky said. “Who put you in charge?”
“Sorry, but we need to talk. You can soft-pedal this all you want, but Chief Harper is not happy about the fact it happened while we were in his office making a claim against the selfsame husband who was just blown to kingdom come.”
“She claimed he was trying to kill her.”
“Yes, and isn’t that just too pat. She cast her husband in the role of the killer, then kills him so it looks like he accidently killed himself.”
“And just how does she do that?”
“Damned if I know. But you think the police aren’t going to think so?”
“It may cross Harper’s mind. But he’d have a tough time proving it.”
“Maybe. But wouldn’t it be better if he never makes the accusation? It would certainly be better for me. I would hate to find myself on the witness stand testifying to what I did in the wife’s defense. ‘Miss Felton, did you have any personal involvement with the decedent?’ ‘You mean besides blackmailing him for ten thousand dollars?’”
“I see your point.”
“You better go check on Barney, see that he gives her some whacking big dose of powerful sedative.”
“What are you going to do?”
Cora’s eyes were hard. “Look for a scapegoat.”
Chapter
29
Mrs. Cushman had dragged a folding table out of the bakeshop and put
out a coffee urn for the firemen. Hot coffee to a fire might have seemed redundant, but it was cold outside. Bakerhaven had only one fire truck. There were six volunteers but usually only two or three at a time, depending on the severity of the fire. Considering the spectacular nature of the blaze, today they were all there, taking turns on the hoses and the coffee table.
Cora found Kevin Graves dumping cream in a Styrofoam cup. Kevin was a barber who worked during the day and generally answered calls at night. Today, he’d run from his shop in mid-haircut. Somewhere in the crowd was a spectator with half-trimmed hair.
Cora sidled up to the table. “Hey, Kevin, what’s the scoop?”
Kevin himself was remarkably unkempt for a barber. He favored her with a lopsided smile. “What do you mean?”
“Any ideas about the fire?”
“Why do you ask?”
“My niece married a reporter. I like to help the kids out.”
“I don’t want to be quoted.”
Cora realized she’d taken the wrong tack, immediately tried to backtrack. “I’m not going to quote you. Promise. I won’t even say where this came from. Any ideas?”
“Word is it’s a car bomb. Guy started the car, blew himself up.”
“In Bakerhaven?”
Kevin grinned. “Yeah, I know. Seems out of place, but that’s what it looks like.”
“What if it wasn’t? What would you think then?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The car caught fire. If it wasn’t a bomb, what could it have been?”
“I don’t know. Who burns a car?”
“Who burns anything?” Cora said. “Say it wasn’t a car, say it was just a fire, what would you think then?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Kevin said. He stopped himself. “You’re not quoting me on this.”
“I told you I wasn’t.”
“Well, you didn’t hear it from me. But everybody knows.”
“Knows what?”
