Secrets, Lies, and Homemade Pies
Page 5
All four men swiveled to face her.
She smiled. “He won’t talk about the bedroom stuff. If he doesn’t care about her, he’ll brag about his conquest. Heck, he’ll even embellish the story a little. But, if he’s serious about her, he won’t reveal a thing. That’s his. All his. And he wants no other man knowing what’s his.” She winked at Bubba with her good eye.
Chief Ramsay bolted to his feet. “Would you look at that?”
Ridge jumped out of the way as the chief flew past.
Along with everyone else, Ridge walked to the front window and watched Ramsay put an elderly man into Bubba’s patrol car.
“Who’s he?”
Bubba shook his head. “Old man Tafford. His kids came last weekend and took his car away. Looks like he’s come to town on his riding lawnmower.”
Everyone was still laughing when Chief Ramsay came back in.
Bubba grabbed his hat. “Let me guess. I need to take him home.”
The chief nodded. “First, put his mower in the impound lot. I told him we’d keep it here a few days, then return it, but if he does this again, we’ll take it away for good.”
Bubba put on his hat, and as the door closed behind him, he started to hum.
As Bubba left, Carl Weston arrived. The banker, just under six feet tall, clearly worked out and appeared younger than forty-five. He wore a navy-blue tailored suit that screamed money.
Ridge led Carl down the hall into a small office and motioned for him to take a seat. “I appreciate you coming in, Mr. Weston, and I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” He squirmed in his chair. “Please, call me Carl.”
“I’ll cut right to the chase, Carl. What type of insurance policy did your wife have and who’s the beneficiary?”
“What difference does that make? Has her death been ruled a homicide?”
“Not yet, but until the coroner determines a cause of death, we have to treat it as such.”
“I understand. But, even with the missing jewelry, it’s hard for me to believe someone would kill my wife.” Carl stretched out his legs and rested his hands in his lap. “She had a policy for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, since the first year of our marriage. I’m the beneficiary, as she’s—was of mine.”
“What about her bank shares? Do you get those?”
“I get thirty percent, and each of the children gets ten.”
So far, so good. Carl came across unshaken, but Ridge wasn’t done yet. “I see. Does it bother you Tizzy Donovan now has controlling interest?”
“Absolutely not. Tizzy and I have always had an excellent working relationship. Now that Marlene’s gone, I imagine Tizzy will be less active in the everyday dealings of the bank. The main reason for her involvement was to keep Marlene in check.”
Ridge stopped making notes and glanced up. “How would you describe your relationship with your wife?”
Carl stiffened. “Marlene and I had a good marriage.”
Ridge doubted that. The man’s body language said otherwise.
Carl chewed the inside of his jaw for a moment, then continued. “I wouldn’t describe our union as loving, but we were civil and respectful to each other. We understood what each of us expected from the other. I didn’t hate my wife if that’s what you’re trying to determine. I had no reason to kill her. Regardless of her unpleasant attitude, she was the mother of my children, and I would never take her away from them.”
Ridge flipped a few pages back in his notebook, an investigative tactic to break the rhythm of questioning. Give the suspect time to think about his last answer and worry about the next one. “Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt her or you?”
Carl fidgeted in his chair and cleared his throat. “Marlene had few friends, but no one disliked her to the point of murder. “
“Don’t you think it’s strange she was found at her brother’s grave?
“I admit, that bothers me. I don’t understand it, but it must mean something. Like someone took her there to say goodbye, or to confuse things.”
It always made Ridge nervous when suspects offered scenarios. More like they were trying to confuse things. He focused on Carl’s earlier interview he’d pulled from the pile. “In your initial statement, you said you went to bed after your wife’s call. Do you sleep so soundly you didn’t wake up during the night and realize she wasn’t there?”
Beads of sweat formed on Carl’s forehead, and he bounced his leg. “Correct. I didn’t know until the next morning.”
“You were home alone, and no one can confirm that?”
“Correct.”
“What about your children? They get along with their mother?”
“Absolutely.”
“Any of their friends have a problem with her? Maybe, someone, she didn’t approve of?”
“Not to my knowledge. Besides, they’re both in college, so they’re old enough for us to trust them to make good decisions about friends and dating.”
“What about you? Anything going on in your life that might lead to Marlene’s death?”
“Like what?”
“You tell me.”
Carl ran his hand over his face. “I don’t understand the question.”
“A bad business deal? Old grudge? An affair?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
Ridge scooted back and stood. “Okay. That’s all I have today, but I may have more questions for you later.”
He escorted Carl to the front. The man was lying. He knew it. About what, he wasn’t sure. But Ridge felt it in his gut, and his gut was never wrong.
Chapter Eight
Rayann pulled on her slim fit jeans and easily zipped and buttoned them. Next, she slipped the Sweet Thangs tee-shirt over her seamless padded bra, which added a full cup size to her small breasts. Smiling, she remembered what Dwayne had said. You’re perfect. For the first time in months, happiness bubbled in her chest like a teenager about to go on her first date. Tizzy was right. Rayann had wasted too much time where Dwayne was concerned. She gathered her hair into a ponytail and secured it with a rubber band.
She leaned in close to the mirror and studied her face. Since high school, she’d made serious errors in judgment. First, labeling Dwayne as having no ambition because he didn’t want to do anything but live in Brownsboro and work for the police department. Second, getting a teaching degree. Last, but not least, falling for a smooth-talking man who turned out to be evil, personified.
She picked up a hairbrush and drew the bristles through her ponytail, untangling the strands. She’d realized her mistakes. Dwayne didn’t lack ambition. He was simply a man who knew what he wanted. Teaching could have been the perfect job if not for the problem students and parents. And lastly, good looks and sophistication meant nothing without a heart.
She slipped on her shoes, grabbed a bottle of fruit juice from the fridge, hiked her purse over her shoulder, and picked up her keys. By the time she got to her car, the humidity had plastered her tee-shirt tight against her. She slipped behind the wheel and cranked the engine. Swinging out of the drive, she headed to Sweet Thangs. The ladies would be waiting for a full report.
After parking, she headed inside and paused to read the funeral notice posted on the window. She twirled around and went in humming. “Morning, ladies. Oh, my Lord. What is that heavenly smell?”
At the sound of her voice, Tizzy, Sugarpie, and Pattiecake stopped what they were doing and beelined to her. Tizzy was the first to speak. “Sugarpie’s trying a new recipe. But, never mind that. Were you humming?”
“Oh, Lord. She was humming all right.” Pattiecake placed her hands on her hips. “Wouldn’t you say she was, Sugarpie?”
“Uh-huh. She was, for sure. Girl, girl, how was Bubba?”
Tizzy giggled. “Apparently good enough to make her hum.”
Rayann slanted her eyes. “I’m not sure I should talk about him.”
All three ladies surrounded her and forced her into a chair.
Rayann smiled. “Ten.”
“Foreplay?”
“Ten.”
“The dirty deed?”
Rayann covered her mouth with both palms, then dropped her hands to her chest and crossed them. “Oh. My. Lord! It was the best sex I’ve ever had that didn’t involve batteries.”
They whooped, hollered, and jumped up and down. Once they regained control, Sugarpie leaned close. “Well, sweetie, if there’s anything about him you need to change, now’s the time. Don’t wait. You’ve got to tell him what you want. We spend a third of our lives in bed, and if your partner is not doing everything the way you like, it will seem like a-whole-lot-longer.”
Pattiecake chimed in. “She’s right.” She cut her eyes over at Sugarpie. “Do you remember Lord Wendell?”
Her sister slapped her leg as she bent over with laughter. “Lor-dee! I haven’t thought of him in years. Whatever happened to him?”
“I think he moved to the Houston area.”
Rayann snapped her head back and forth between them. “All right, you two. What’s the story with Wendell?”
Pattiecake pulled out a chair and sat. “When we were in high school, Shirley Jean Culpepper went steady with him. Wendell broke up with her and spread a few scandalous stories. Shirley was so mad. Seems his mother sent off for one of those coats of arms, and once he found out he was of English descent, he fancied himself somewhat of a royal. Shirley said during their interludes, he insisted on speaking in a proper British accent, and as he reached his moment of bliss, so to speak, he would scream ‘I’m arriving! I’m arriving!’”
Laughter erupted again. “After that, we dubbed him Lord Wendell. We’re saying, if Bubba’s got any bad habits in the boudoir, you need to nip them in the bud.”
Rayann trapped her bottom lip between her teeth. “Here’s something I can share. I’m going to marry him.”
Tizzy gasped. “You are? Did you tell him you love him?”
Sugarpie shook her head. “Oh no, girl. You didn’t use the L-word your first time.”
“Yes, I did, and you know what? He loves me, too. I’ll be patient, but if he doesn’t propose, I will. One way or the other, I’m marrying Dwayne Tatum. You’re right, Tizzy. Life’s too short.”
Tizzy embraced her. “You two have loved each other for years, and I’m happy for you.”
“Maybe Dwayne and I are the beginning of perfect matches. Do you know what your horoscope said today?”
Tizzy grimaced. “Uh, no. Did a planet collide with something, and it’s going to rain men?”
“If that’s your attitude, I won’t tell you.”
Tizzy lowered her shoulders. “I’m sorry. What did it say?”
“Love is looking for you, but you’ve got to be open to it.”
“That’s it? No clues how I can identify him? Tall, dark, and handsome? White horse? Crap, Rayann. That could translate to a stray dog needing a home.”
“It’s not talking about a dog. It also said your best chance is with an Aries.”
“Gotcha. Aries. I’ll keep an eye out.”
Rayann spun toward the kitchen. “What recipe are you making? It smells wonderful.”
“I’m still trying to get the flavor right for the Chocolate Coconut Pecan Pie. I’ve got three on the cooling rack. Thought you and Tizzy could do a taste test. Sit down. I’ll bring out samples.”
Sugarpie disappeared into the kitchen and quickly returned with a tray and placed it in front of them. “This one is made with almond extract. Number two is with vanilla, and the last one is with both extracts, and they all have my secret ingredient.”
Tizzy and Rayann took a bite, moved the pie around in their mouths. Tizzy smacked her lips. “Delicious, but I don’t want to judge until I’ve tried them all. Let us have some water to cleanse our palates.” Once they each had a glass, they sloshed the water as if tasting fine wine and moved to the next one.
“This one is yummy too, but I’m still not sure.” Rayann tossed her hair back and pushed the plate away.
Moving to number three, she sat up straight, placed her hand flat against her chest, and gasped. “Oh. My. Lord. I may arrive.”
“We have a winner,” Sugarpie said. “Tizzy, what do you think?”
She waved her off until she swallowed. “It’s wonderful. Delicious. It is orgasmic. Maybe we should call it Orgasmic Pie!”
“Lor-dee. I may pee my pants,” Sugarpie said and crossed her legs.
Pattiecake frowned. “I’m not sure we can get away with that. We’re already pushing the envelope with the Better than Sex Cupcakes.”
Once the moment passed and things settled down, Rayann pointed to the front. “I read the funeral notice for Mr. Ledbetter’s two services. What’s that about? Do they think it will take double funerals to preach him into Heaven?”
“Poor Billy Jack. You know his family is split. One-half doesn’t speak to the other half, so they’re having a service for both halves, to avoid another funeral, if you know what I mean. They even had two visitations.” Pattiecake chuckled. “One of our customers said Billy Jack is being buried in a new pair of overalls with a package of chewing tobacco in one pocket and a pint of whiskey in the other. Oh, Tizzy, I want you to run a couple of cakes up to the church. They’ll feed the family afterward.”
Sugarpie nodded. “Pattiecake and I are attending both services. It’ll be worth the trip to see those two sons of his, Buttcut and Booger. At the last funeral, those boys showed up drunk and insisted on singing a duet.”
“I’d never heard a more unusual rendition of “Fill My Cup, Lord.” The first service is at ten and the second one at two. We think you girls can handle things for an hour each time. If not, just lock up. And if y’all don’t mind, would you deliver muffins out at the Philpot place? Frank died last night. We’d like for them to have baked goods for breakfast in the morning. This may be a big funeral week. First, Billy Jack Ledbetter, now Frank Philpot, and I hear Melba Jane Treadwell is circling the drain.
Chapter Nine
By the time Tizzy and Rayann got the dishes done, the floor swept, and the kitchen cleaned, it was past six o’clock. They swung by Tizzy’s, picked up Gracie, and headed out toward the Philpot’s place with four dozen muffins. Frank’s family lived in the boonies down a dirt road about five miles outside the city limits. When they wheeled into the drive, the sun had set, and stars were appearing in the night sky. With no help from streetlights, darkness came earlier than in town.
Rayann unbuckled, opened her car door, and quickly closed it. “Do you smell that?”
“It’s a polecat.”
Rayann widened her eyes and fidgeted in her seat. “I don’t like them. They scare me more than anything. Even vampires.”
“You’ve been watching too much television. However, your fear is logical since skunks are real and vampires aren’t.”
“You don’t understand. If vamps were real, I’d still be more afraid of skunks. Vampires transform you, and you’ll stay young and live forever. But skunks make you stink, bite you and give you rabies. I don’t want to get out of the car. That stinker is somewhere close. What if it’s rabid? What if it bites us? We’d have to take those awful shots. I ‘m afraid of needles.”
Tizzy rolled her eyes and lowered her voice “Let me get this straight. You wouldn’t mind a vampire sinking his long, sharp fangs deep into your neck and sucking out all your blood, but you’re afraid a skunk might bite you? This is only my opinion, but I’m sure you can outrun a skunk. They don’t move fast.”
“Okay, but leave your lights on. They hate light.” She eased the door open again.
Tizzy slung her purse over her shoulder and stepped to the
back of the van. They each picked up two boxes, approached the front and knocked. No sound came from inside. No music. No television. No conversation.
Rayann pressed her face to the front window. “I don’t think anybody’s home.”
“They have a screened-in back porch. If it’s open, we can leave the boxes inside.”
They made their way to the back, found the screen open, and placed the muffins on a small table. As they rounded the corner of the house, they stopped in their tracks at the sight of two glowing eyes. Rayann moved behind Tizzy. “Oh, no! It’s a skunk.”
“Don’t move. Once he sees we’re no threat, he’ll leave.” The critter gave quick little nods, sniffed the air, and twitched his tail.
Rayann prayed. “Oh, Holy Mother. The Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Sweet Mary, Mother of Jesus. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Jesus, Jesus, bo-besus-banana-banta-bo-besus. He’ll bite us! We’ll get rabies!” She screamed and jumped on Tizzy’s back.
Tizzy’s purse catapulted into the air. The contents exploded and rained down. She fought to dislodge her friend, catch the purse, and keep herself upright, but lost her footing. She stumbled and fell forward with Rayann riding her all the way to the ground.
The animal turned, lifted his tail and sprayed, hitting them dead center. A duet of blood-curdling screams echoed into the night. Rayann jumped to her feet and ran for the car. Tizzy quickly followed.
The skunk skittered away. “I told you we shouldn’t get out! We stink! We’ll never get this odor off. I may throw up.” Rayann gagged.
“No. No. Don’t throw up in my car! Take some deep breaths!”
“Momma, somebody tooted.” Gracie held her nose.
Rayann gulped for air. “Hurry, start the car.”
Tizzy rested her head on the steering wheel and stared at her purse, spilled on the lawn. A large, mangy black dog appeared out of nowhere, lay down and chewed her wallet. “I can’t start the car because an insane person blaspheming the name of our Lord and Savior jumped on my back and caused me to lose my car keys. Damn, Rayann!”
Gracie repeated, “Damn, Rayann.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t nice.”