Missed You In Church: A Hunter Jones Mystery

by Charlotte Moore

  “Y’all gonna take my gun?” Rocker said, “Leave a man unarmed?”

  “You got two shotguns still back there,” one of the deputies said.

  “You got permits for any of them?” T.J. asked.

  “No,” Rocker said. “I got a livin’ to earn, and a right to bear arms. Ain’t got time for all that gummint crap, and I ain’t no felon.”

  “So we’re going to leave you the shotguns,” T.J. said affably. “And you’ll get this one back if we’ve got no reason to keep it. Meantime, you need to get permits and get you a lawyer, because we’re going to be talking some more.”

  “You’d save us all a lot of time and bother if you’d just tell us where you were Saturday,” Sam said to Rocker Barstow.

  Barstow had his bearings back. He gave Sam another cocky look and said, “I’ll tell you what. I got an alibi and I got witnesses. Now if you charge me with something and take me to court, my witnesses are gonna stand up for me and make a fool outta you, but if you’re just curious, I ain’t talkin’ about my business or theirs, cause you ain’t got nothin’ on me. I didn’t shoot anybody, I wasn’t anywhere near Merchantsville Saturday, and I sure wouldn’t shoot the mother of my son.”

  T.J. looked at Sam, and Sam shrugged.

  “Don’t leave town,” T.J. said to Rocker.

  “When’s the funeral,” Rocker said. “I might oughta go. I could see my boy.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Sam said.

  Rocker gave Sam a hard look.

  “It was him who told you it coulda been me who killed her, wasn’t it? It was Ben who gave you that idea. He always thought his Mamma hung the moon, and I was wrong about everything. Now you know if you’re married, that it ain’t all just on one side.”

  “It’s all on record at the Medical Center in Macon,” T.J. said calmly, “and at the sheriff’s office there, and the court records.”

  And then he looked over at Darla, whose eyes were wide.

  “If you’d like to go with us, we’ve got a place where you’ll be safe,” he said.

  “Darla” Rocker said in a voice that was more threatening than loving, “Darla, Honey. Tell them how good we get along.”

  “Yes,” she said, looking straight at T.J. “I’d like to go. Can I just get a few of my things?”

  Darla, who packed a few things into a pillowcase before leaving with T.J. and Sam, turned out to be from Alabama.

  “All I want is a safe place to be until I can get one of my brothers to come pick me up,” she said once they were on the road.

  “Did Rocker break your arm?” T.J. asked.

  “My wrist,” she said. “He wanted me to get out of bed and make him some coffee, and I got my feet tangled in the bedspread while he was tryin’ to pull me outta bed. I told them at the hospital that I fell. I’m not leavin’ because of this. I was already thinkin’ about it, ‘because he’s slapped me around a coupla times, and he’s mean and I’m sick of him. We only got the one cell phone between us and he keeps it in his pocket all the time. If I’d had a car, I’d have been long gone. I sure don’t want to be around if he’s in trouble.”

  “Do you know where he was on Saturday?” Sam asked.

  “I got no idea,” she said. “He goes off just about every Saturday, takes the truck and doesn’t tell me where he’s going. He’s that way. I don’t really think he killed that Noreen woman, though. That wouldn’t make any sense, ‘because she gave him money.”

  “No kidding?” T.J. said as if they were gossiping.

  “Yeah, twice that I know of. One time was right after he found out where she was and they had that long talk on the phone and she told him he had forgiven him. We were down to under $10, and the power was turned off. When she said she could help, he wanted just to go over there and meet her, but she said she’d mail it, and damned if she didn’t send a check, which was a royal pain because it took two days to get here and because Rocker didn’t have a checking account. He had to drive over to Merchantsville to cash it at the bank it was written at, so she might as well have let him come and get it to start with.”

  “How much was it for?” Sam asked.

  “Five hundred,” Darla said.

  “When was that?” Sam asked.

  “Less than a year ago,” she said. “I know it was before Christmas. He was hoping to get in touch with his son, too, but she wouldn’t give him the son’s number, and the son never called him. Probably had too much sense.”

  Sam matched that up mentally to Ben Barstow’s story.

  “And she gave him money again?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah, but I don’t know how much,” Darla said. “He didn’t tell me all of his business. The only reason I know about that is that he had to get the truck fixed, and he got mad because she wanted to make out the check to the repair shop instead of to him, and then he got his buddy Merle to drive him over there to get it. It’s not like she was supporting us or anything. He only called her those two times that I know of, and he said she had plenty to spare. Her husband owned the business where she was working and they had a nice house, too.”

  “He knew where her house was?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah, he just asked somebody and they told him, and he drove out and took a look.”

  “So what were you doing Saturday afternoon?” T.J. asked.

  “What do you think?” she said wearily. “I was runnin’ the store and he was gone off somewhere, like always. I’m just sayin’ wherever he went, it doesn’t make sense that he’d kill that woman, because…” she paused, trying to find words. “Well, because for one thing, he could talk her out of money a little bit at a time, and for another, it was like he was kinda proud of her and even of that son that wouldn’t talk to him. He told me a buncha times how clean she kept the house they lived in together, and how she was always finding ways to save money, and how smart and good lookin’ she was, and how smart his boy was, getting’ to be a lawyer. I got sick of hearing about it, because I was the one puttin’ up with him.”

  They drove along a while in silence, and then she said, “He never told me he beat on her, too. When he talked about her, it was like she was Miss Perfect.”

  She thought a while longer and said, “I guess he could have killed her. I mean if he went over there to see her and wanted some money and she wouldn’t give him any. I mean he can get real mad and just act crazy, and I don’t see why he couldn’t just tell y’all where he was Saturday, if it was somewhere else with his buddies.”

  “You know who these friends are that he was talking about?” Sam asked, off-handedly.

  “One of ‘em’s Merle Tarver,” she said, “and the other is Sonny something. I think they’re just playin’ poker and drinkin’ or maybe they got some women friends.”

  After T.J. and Sam dropped Darla off at the safe house, which was an unremarkable brick home in a quiet neighborhood, they picked up hamburgers and went back to T.J.’s office to get a ballistics report.

  “Okay, let’s say he sure could have done it, but unless we just got the gun she was shot with, we’ve got nothing,” Sam said. “Well, not unless we can find somebody who saw him in or around Merchantsville Saturday. That’s why I got that picture of him.”

  T.J. laughed.

  “He sure didn’t like that.”

  “No law against it,” Sam said. “My wife could tell you that.”

  “Wonder what he was doing on Saturday if he wasn’t in Merchantsville,” T.J. said. “Of course, he’ll have called his buddies before we get to them. You reckon he’s got friends good enough to perjure themselves in court if they weren’t with him?”

  “We don’t even know if the names Darla gave us are the friends he was talking about,” Sam said. “I’d like to get my people out with the pictures of him and of his truck, and see if we can find anybody who’ll put him in Merchantsville at the right time. For all we know, she could have stayed home from that conference because she knew he was coming over. It sounds to me like Noreen Bremmer was t
oo kind for her own good.”

  CHAPTER 10

  BACK IN MERCHANTSVILLE, TANEESHA HAD FINISHED getting Clarissa Scarbrough’s statement on her digital recorder, and wondered how many pages it might come to, with all of Clarissa’s digressions into wedding plans and the challenge of keeping up with RSVPs.

  The basic information was there, though. She had stopped by the Bremmer home and talked with Noreen Bremmer at around 1:30 p.m. on Saturday. It had been a brief visit. Noreen was working on her Sunday School lesson. The dog was in the house. Clarissa hadn’t notice anything out of the ordinary when she passed the house on the way back, but it was pouring down rain and she had her eyes on the road anyway. No, she didn’t know anyone who would want to harm Noreen, although she did know that two of the women at the agency had lost their jobs a few months back. No, she had never heard Noreen say anything about her first husband, and had never asked. No, she herself did not own a gun, and seemed distressed to be asked. She didn’t know if Noreen might have owned one, but it didn’t seem likely. She was sure that Jack would know.

  After Bethie had fallen asleep that night, Sam told Hunter about Rocker Barstow.

  “It’s hard to believe a woman like Noreen was married to him,” he said, “but I guess, since she had a son out of law school, she must have been pretty young then.”

  “He sounds rotten,” Hunter said. “Now, do you want to know what Novena told me about the local gossip?”

  “If it’s about the two women Noreen fired, I sure do,” Sam said. “We’ll be talking to them both tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER 11

  THE FIRST THING SAM DID WHEN he got to work on Tuesday morning was to pull up a chair by his secretary’s desk and hand her a cup of coffee.

  “What do you want?” Shellie Carstairs said, looking amused. She was the one who usually got his coffee.

  “I want to know where Amber Winslow works in Atlanta,” he said. “Is that something you could find out discreetly?”

  Shellie grinned and asked, “Would you settle for knowing where she’s living now?”

  Sam looked surprised and said, “Definitely.”

  She laughed and said, “Okay. I had my hair done yesterday at the Curl’n’Cut and while I was there, Ruth came in. She said that Amber is home with her folks and she’s going to Noreen’s funeral.”

  “Which Ruth is that?” Sam asked.

  “Amber’s sister-in-law,” Shellie said, “Randy Winslow’s wife. Anyway, she said the main reason Amber was home because she had lost her job in Atlanta.”

  “Hmmm,” Sam said, waiting for more.

  “So,” Shellie said, “Ruth was really running her mouth. She said that she thought Amber was probably thinking that without Noreen around she could get her job back at Bremmer Agency, and showing up at the funeral would be a good way to let people know there were no hard feelings. Ruth isn’t what you’d call the nicest sister-in-law.”

  “I should have brought you donuts, too,” Sam said with a grin. “You don’t know how much time you’ve saved me. You know where the Winslows live?”

  “Over on the other side of the river, but I don’t know where. I’m sure Skeet would,” Shellie said. “Not that there’s anything going on with them now, but he did go out with her two or three times.”

  “Thanks for that, too,” Sam said. “I won’t take him out there with me.”

  He held out his phone.

  “Do you know how to get a picture from this thing onto the computer and then print some copies on paper?”

  “Sure,” she said, “Won’t take but a few minutes.”

  He watched over her shoulder, pointing out the pictures he wanted, until she handed his phone back.

  “Give copies to Skeet and Bub,” he said. “Tell them I want them to take them around downtown and into the Old South Bank to see if anybody has seen this man.”

  By 10 a.m. Sam and Taneesha were headed toward Cathay, the smaller town across the river from Merchantsville.

  “Yes, I know where the Winslows live,” Taneesha told Sam as they headed across the long bridge that covered both swampland and river, “You know how to get to Willow Grove C.M.E. Church?”

  “Yep,” Sam said. “It’s down by the Buckingham’s peach orchards. “

  “And the Winslows live in that brick ranch house the Buckinghams had before they moved to Merchantsville.”

  “You could have just told me that to start with” Sam said, his mental GPS picturing the roads ahead. “Do you know Amber?”

  “Not like a friend,” Taneesha said. “I know her when I see her. Her older brother, the one who married Ruth Hopper, was in my graduating class. She was in Middle School then. There’s another sister in between them, but she lives in Atlanta now. I know Amber got fired at Bremmer Insurance Agency.”

  “I don’t think ‘fired’ is the word they used,” Sam said. “What I heard was that they had to cut the stuff for financial reasons and she and another employee were laid off. Now let me fill you in on why we’re going to talk to Amber.”

  Ten minutes later they were at the door of the neat brick ranch house, and Amber Winslow, who appeared to be the only one home, was staring at them wide-eyed. She was barefoot in her pajamas and a skimpy robe.

  “We just need to ask you a few questions,” Sam said in his best Andy Taylor voice. “I hope we didn’t come too early.”

  “Questions about what?”

  “About your work at the Bremmer Agency, and how well you knew Noreen Bremmer,” Taneesha said, “We’re just trying to get background. We’re going to talk to all the employees and since you just left a short while ago….”

  Amber stared at them both blankly and then seemed to process what they were saying.

  “Oh, okay. It’s about Miss Noreen. Y’all come in,” she finally said. “Let me go make myself decent. I’ll just be a minute.”

  They sat in the living room – Taneesha on the flowered chintz sofa and Sam on the matching loveseat. Amber seemed to be taking her time, and Sam and Taneesha both wondered if she was making a phone call.

  Finally she came out in white shorts and a sequined black halter top, her blonde hair brushed and her face made up. She perched on the arm of the sofa, and said, “So what do you want to know about Miss Noreen? It was so awful, her getting killed that way.”

  Sam started off easy.

  “First let me make sure I’ve got your name spelled right.”

  She spelled it.

  And how old are you, Miss Winslow?

  “I’m 24,” she said.

  Taneesha knew from the question that Sam had been a little disconcerted by Amber’s youthful looks and wanted to be very sure she was a legal adult.

  “How long did you work at Bremmer Insurance Agency?” he asked.

  “Two years, well nearly two years.”

  “And what was your job there?”

  “Receptionist and file clerk.”

  “Was Mrs. Bremmer nice to work with?”

  “Oh, yes,” Amber said. “Everybody who works down there is all broken up about her getting killed.”

  “I understand she let you and another employee go about two months ago,” Taneesha said.

  “Well, yes,” Amber said, “She said she had to cut costs. Janelle Harrell and I were the last ones hired. I don’t know where that rule came from, but some people say if you’re last hired, you’re first fired. Of course, I wasn’t really fired, just laid off, and Jack, I mean Mr. Bremmer, gave me a real good reference when I applied for a job up in Atlanta with one his business friends, so I got another job real fast.

  “How’s that working out?” Sam asked in a fatherly way.

  “It’s not,” Amber said with a slight pout and a shrug. “I think I wasn’t big city enough for them, and there was a whole lot of paperwork for one person to do. Really, my specialty is customer relations, but there was this assistant manager who had it in for me.”

  “So are you going to look for another job in Atlanta?” Taneesha asked.
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  “Maybe,” Amber said, shrugging. “Maybe not if I can find something here. I was in an apartment my sister has with another girl, and they needed my third of the rent and utilities. I couldn’t find anything that fast. I mean I just lost the job two weeks ago, and I was looking every day, but my sister got this real attitude…”

  She bit her bottom lip. “Anyway, I’m glad to be back home. For now anyway.”

  “How long have you been here?” Sam asked.

  “Since Friday,” she said, “I brought my stuff home with me Friday afternoon, ‘cause they were already moving this new girl into the apartment.”

  “Have you been back up to Atlanta since then?” Taneesha asked.

  “Since Friday?”

  Amber looked surprised, then uneasy. She took a while to answer, looking as if she were working out a math problem in her head.

  “Yeah,” she finally said, “Please don’t tell my folks this, but I drove back up there to a party I’d been invited to, uh, before I left. It was this big statewide insurance thing, I sorta thought I might talk to somebody about a job, in case there was something with better pay.”

  She paused, looking up at the ceiling and then gave them both a bright smile, “In fact, I saw Mr. Jack Bremmer up there, and he introduced me to some people.”

  Taneesha could see that the young woman was getting uncomfortable so she took a new approach.

  “It helps to know that,” she said, “So you can confirm that Jack Bremmer was definitely in Atlanta Saturday night.”

  “Yes, I can,” Amber said primly. ”Of course, he was.”

  “Where was he staying?” Sam asked.

  “At Towers Convention Center,” she said. “I guess. I mean, like, the whole thing was there, and everybody was staying there.

  “You said somebody invited you,” Sam said. “Who was that?”

  Amber seemed to ponder her options.

  “This guy I worked with up there,” she finally said. “Scott, mmm, Smith. I don’t know his number. He didn’t show up, or if he didn’t see him. It wasn’t like we had a date or anything.”