by Parnell Hall
“There’s no chance the guy in the car is Bill French?”
“He killed himself just to frame me? That would be real dedication.”
“No, Melvin, I mean you killed him. You saw it was the only way out. You knew he was never going to stop. You knew how to reach him somehow. The minute you got out of jail you contacted him, you set up a meeting.” She jerked her thumb at the bar. “You paid those bozos a ton of money to swear they were here with you. You rushed out, killed Bill French, rushed back here and chugged a few drinks so you could pretend you’d been drinking the whole time. Which is why you were acting drunker than you are.”
“It wasn’t just to seduce you? What did the guy in the car look like?”
“About forty-five. Stocky.”
He shook his head. “Too young.”
“I could be wrong about that.”
“What was his hair like?”
“Brownish, evenly clipped all around.”
“Could it have been a wig?”
“Hell, yes. Would that do it?”
Melvin waved it away. “It’s not him. Unless you killed him for me. You’d do that, wouldn’t you? Just as a favor. To get me out from under. You’d kill him before he killed me.”
“In your dreams, Melvin. Okay, tell me this. Did he have anything to do with the blackmail?”
“How the hell should I know?”
“Because you were paying it.”
“Let’s not go through that again. Yes, I put up the money, no, I wasn’t being blackmailed, no, I don’t know a damn thing about it, I can’t help you there.”
“Any chance this guy could be the blackmailer?”
“What guy?”
“The dead guy.”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he’s dead. I can’t speak for when he was alive, but he doesn’t seem like much of a threat now.”
“Melvin—”
“You wanna know about the blackmail, talk to Becky Baldwin. I just put up the money.”
“Where is Becky?”
“She went back to the office.”
“I called the office. She wasn’t there.”
“Maybe she didn’t want to talk to you.”
“There was no answer.”
“You call from your home phone?”
“What?”
“You ever hear of caller ID? If she knew it was you and didn’t want to talk, she wouldn’t pick up.”
“Hell. You got a cell phone?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“No. Call her, would you?”
“Why?”
“Maybe she’ll answer you.”
Melvin took out his phone. He punched the number, hit send. “It’s busy.”
“Damn!”
Cora jumped up and ran out.
Chapter
55
“Why don’t you answer your phone?”
Becky looked up from her desk. “Oh, were you trying to call?”
“Yes, I was trying to call. Why didn’t you pick up the phone?”
“It didn’t ring.”
“I called. It rang. You didn’t pick up.”
“If you say so.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“To tell me you got Melvin out of jail.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t have my priorities straight. Here I was, bailing him out of jail, and securing his release, and getting his personal items back, and making sure everything was done legal and proper. I should have been calling you instead. I’m very sorry.”
“Those personal items happen to include ten thousand dollars?”
“What if they did?”
“Happen to use any part of that for bail?”
“What business is that of yours?”
“If I have to give ten grand to a blackmailer, I’d like to know it wasn’t short. But that’s not an issue, is it? By now you must have had time to get the money from the real victim and give Melvin his money back.” Cora cocked her head. “Unless the blackmail’s over.”
“Are you talking just to hear yourself talk, because I stopped listening a long time ago.”
“You’re not concerned about the money. Why is that? Are you going to give it to Melvin? Or are you going to hold onto it in case you need it? What’s Melvin buying for ten grand?”
“Damn you!”
“Touch a nerve? Why does that touch a nerve? According to Melvin he’s getting absolutely nowhere. Of course, it wouldn’t be the first fib he’s told. But I look at you and I just can’t see him denying it.”
“Are you quite done?”
“Sorry I missed the hearing. I had to drive Sherry home from the hospital.”
“How is Sherry?”
“Sherry’s fine.” Cora cocked her head, peered at Becky. “Melvin hasn’t called you?”
“No one’s called me. Unless they called my cell phone. I misplaced it this morning. I might have voice mail.”
“Yeah, you might.” Cora studied her face. “I ran into Melvin.”
“Where?”
“At the Country Kitchen. Getting drunk.”
“I told him to go home.”
“That usually does no good.”
“I noticed.”
Cora sat down, leaned back. “Melvin and I had a nice talk. I put the pieces together and I got some things you should know.”
“Do you really?”
“Yeah, I really do. Melvin claims he wasn’t being blackmailed. When questioned further, he declines to answer, refers me to you.”
“That’s not news.”
“He tried to call you, but you were on the phone.”
“I wasn’t on the phone.”
“He got a busy signal.”
“I haven’t been on the phone all day.”
“Maybe your receiver’s off the hook.”
“No, it’s fine.” Becky picked it up, listened. “Hell.”
“What?”
“Line’s dead.”
“So, you really don’t have a phone. Oh, well, don’t worry. Melvin’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’m sure he won’t say anything until you get there. So there’s no rush.”
“What?”
“In fact, you could probably just walk around the corner and meet him in front of the police station.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“When the police bring him in.”
“They’re not bringing him in. I just got him released.”
“Yeah, but they’re going to want to talk to him again.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“Someone got killed.”
Chapter
56
Becky Baldwin was desperately trying to mediate as Chief Harper and Dan Finley led a rather intoxicated Melvin Crabtree into the police station. The bodyguards, who did not look happy, flanked the police officers and watched for saboteurs. Rick Reed filmed gleefully, visions of sound bites dancing in his head.
“I have the right to remain silent!” Melvin announced loudly, slurring his words. “I don’t want to exercise that right. I’d like to exercise some other things, but the cops are such killjoys. Speaking of killing, who the hell do they think I killed this time? They won’t even tell me. I got two witnesses to the fact I didn’t, and here I am being marched off to jail like a common criminal. I am not a common criminal. I am a most uncommon criminal. As I shall demonstrate, if these stupid cops don’t get me killed.”
Due to the two bodyguards there was a bottleneck at the front door. Chief Harper, Becky, and Melvin made it, but Dan Finley got scraped off.
Rick Reed was waiting to pounce. “I am talking with Officer Dan Finley, who just placed the prisoner, Melvin Crabtree, under arrest. Officer Finley, why have you arrested Mr. Crabtree? I thought he was released.”
“There’s been another
murder, Rick.”
“So I hear. And you have reason to believe Mr. Crabtree might be involved?”
“I can’t say at the present time. But it would seem a reason for revoking bail.”
“Come on, Dan, can you help us out here? Who is Mr. Crabtree suspected of killing?”
Dan put up his hand. “Again, we make no allegations at this time. Mr. Crabtree has been picked up for questioning. There was a man shot dead on the outskirts of town, as I believe you have already reported.”
“Yes, but it’s good to get the confirmation. And who was the victim this time?”
“He has not as yet been identified. We’ll let you know as soon as we can.”
Dan escaped from Rick Reed’s clutches, but not from Cora’s. She grabbed him before he could slip in the door.
“Is that true?”
“Is what true?”
“You still haven’t identified the corpse?”
“I had a problem tracing the plates. Please don’t make a big deal about it.”
“What problem?”
Dan grimaced. “The chief would be furious at me for telling you. Sam was cranky about being called in—hard to believe, right? So he was less than careful about writing down the plate number. So I don’t have the ID yet.”
“As soon as you do, let me know.”
Dan disappeared into the police station, leaving Cora to hunt for fresh game.
Rick Reed swooped down. “I’m talking to the Puzzle Lady, Miss Cora Felton, who’s been so helpful to the police on other occasions. Miss Felton, what do you know about this killing?”
“About as much as you do, Rick.”
“Is a puzzle connected to it?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Often, when you’re involved, there are.”
Rick stopped and his eyes fluttered. Cora could practically see him parsing that sentence, wondering if it made any sense.
“At this time, Rick, we have a stranger killed for no apparent reason. There are no useful clues for me to interpret. When there are, I’m sure you’ll hear.”
Cora smiled at Rick Reed and glanced around, well aware of how exposed she was on the police station steps in the glare of the Channel 8 spotlight, just in case someone wanted to take a potshot at her. Gunning her down on live TV would be a spectacular stunt. Bill French seemed to have a flare for the dramatic. She wouldn’t put anything past him.
Cora scanned the street for potential saboteurs.
Her mouth fell open.
Aaron Grant was in the crowd.
She worked her way over to him, said, “What are you doing here?”
“Covering the arrest.”
“Why aren’t you home?”
“Sherry made me leave. The bodyguard’s more than capable. She and the baby are fine. She sent me to cover the story.”
“Who’s guarding you?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“No, you can’t. This is a guy even Melvin’s afraid of.”
“He’s after Melvin, he’s not after me.”
“You wrote the story.”
“You gave me the story.”
“I’ve got a gun. You don’t.”
“I don’t need a gun.”
“But—”
“I’ll call you if I have any trouble.” Aaron fished in his pocket. “Here, take my cell phone.”
“I don’t want your cell phone.”
“You going home?”
“No.”
“Then take the cell phone. I was going to give it to you anyway.”
Cora scrunched up her nose. “Why?”
“So Sherry can call you if she needs you. I’m going to the paper to write up the story. She can reach me there. But no one can reach you.” Aaron flipped the phone open. “Hell. It’s not charged. But it should last the day. Particularly if you’re not using it.”
“I’m not using it.”
“Stick it in your purse. Then Sherry can’t blame me for not giving it to you.”
“No, just for not charging it.” Cora shook her head. “Is the honeymoon over so soon? I thought you guys still liked each other.”
“She had a baby. Her hormones are wacky.”
“I’ll say.”
Dan Finley came out the front door of the police station. He saw Cora, put his hands up. “No, I don’t have it yet.”
“Oh, hell,” Cora said. “You got Aaron’s cell phone number?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I got Aaron’s cell phone.” She held it up, dropped it in her purse. “Call me when you get it.”
“Where are you going?”
“Oh, I’ll be around.”
Cora slipped out of the crowd and took off.
Chapter
57
Sherry was happy. She’d just nursed the baby, a triumph in itself. The doctor had warned her Jennifer might be too small to suck hard enough to provide a letdown reflex, but Sherry had no problems on that score. Jennifer had nursed thoroughly and was now sleeping soundly in her crib and everything was right with the world.
Except Aaron. Sherry worried about Aaron. She’d been afraid to let him go, but didn’t want to make him stay. She knew he was making allowances and treating her special and changing his life. Yes, the baby was premature, and yes, it would be hard for a while. And yes, Cora did seem to feel there was this crazy shadow hanging over their heads. But for goodness’ sake. Some dimly realized figure from her ex-husband’s past that even Melvin hadn’t seen in over fifteen years. In all probability the killer was not seething with rage because Cora had named him. In all probability the killer was laughing up his sleeve because Cora had no idea what was going on and had named someone else. The idea that the danger attached to Cora and therefore to Aaron the journalist who had written the story was too outlandish to be believed. Aaron was a big boy. He could take care of himself. She’d been right to let him go.
Even so, she wished she hadn’t. She wanted him here now with every fiber of her being. If it were up to her, they wouldn’t leave the room. They’d lie in bed, watch TV, and order takeout food. Sherry giggled at the thought. Should they put a TV in the bedroom? They hadn’t had one downstairs. That was a smaller room, and the living room was right there. Upstairs, with her laid up in bed, things were different.
No, that was silly. She wasn’t an invalid. She’d be up and around in days. She’d get the stitches out next week. Heck, she could make it to the bathroom. But could she go up and down stairs? Maybe she should get a TV. If they didn’t run the cable they’d only get channel 8. Rick Reed would love that. That was all she wanted. To get live updates from the scene.
That was how Aaron found out about the murder. On the TV in the kitchen. Could she bring that one upstairs? It was a small portable. Could she ask the bodyguard to do it? No, that would be taking advantage. He hadn’t been hired to wait on her, just protect her. He was incredibly nice, but she shouldn’t take advantage.
Anyway, she didn’t need a TV. She could just call Aaron. Her cell phone was in her purse. And where was her purse? She looked around, didn’t see it. Remembered. It was on a chair at the bottom of the stairs. She’d set it down to hang onto Cora and Aaron when they helped her up. And with the whole discussion of her and the baby, and who they should bring up first, it had been forgotten. It was still downstairs.
Well, no matter. The phone in the bedroom was installed. Cora’d seen to that. Sherry wondered how many people she’d had to bully, bribe, or threaten to make that happen.
Sherry picked up the receiver.
The line was dead.
Sherry frowned. It had been working before. She’d picked it up to see when she got home. It worked just fine.
Well, it wasn’t working now. And, under the circumstances, she really needed the security of a phone.
She’d have to ask the bodyguard. What was his name? McDermott. Something McDermott. Dylan? No, that was the actor. David. That was it. David.
Sherry ca
lled, “David?”
There was no answer.
Sherry craned her neck to listen. From down the hall she could hear the faint sound of pop music. Was the bodyguard wearing earphones? That would certainly seem a breach of etiquette.
Sherry raised her voice slightly, called, “David.”
Jennifer stirred.
Sherry choked the word back into her throat.
Damn. Could she get out of bed? She didn’t want to rip the stitches, but how much of this could she take? It occurred to her she should have gotten a baby monitor. It would be ideal for situations like this. She could keep in touch with the man in the other room. That wasn’t what it was made for. But surely mothers kept in touch with nannies, though not necessarily armed ones.
And why was the phone out? It was a new connection. It shouldn’t have failed just like that.
“David,” Sherry called again.
There came the sound of footsteps and the bodyguard stuck his head in the door. “Yes, ma’am?”
The bodyguard was balding, but gave the impression he would have had short hair even when it was full. He had that kind of chiseled, rock hard face, the type of man who didn’t give an inch, the type of man you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley, but comforting to have on your side.
“The phone’s dead.” Sherry felt foolish saying it.
“Here or in the whole house?” He grimaced. “Silly question. How would you know? So, you want to make a call?” He grimaced again. “Another silly question. Why else would you have picked up the phone?”
“I want to call my husband. See if he got to work.” She shrugged apologetically. “I know that sounds overprotective. It’s just with all these precautions.”
“Of course. Don’t you have a cell phone?”
“It’s in my purse.”
“Where’s your purse?”
“Downstairs.”
“Where?”
“You don’t have to get it.”
“What else am I doing? Where downstairs?”
“At the foot of the steps. I had to put it down when they helped me up.”
“Of course. I’ll be right back.”
He went out the door.
Well, that was a relief. At least she’d have her phone. And it wasn’t just that she wanted to check on Aaron. There’d been another murder. She wanted to know the details. It wasn’t idle curiosity. It affected her directly. Another murder would disprove Melvin’s theory. Then there was no need for a bodyguard at all. Sherry had had enough tension in the past few days. She didn’t need this.
