Down Home and Deadly

by Christine Lynxwiler

  “Instead of telling me what I think, why don’t you tell me what you’re talking about.” John leaned back in his high-backed leather chair and crossed his arms across his chest.

  I took a deep breath. “Here’s the thing. The cell phone you’re looking for is in my purse.”

  *****

  *****

  Chapter Seventeen

  If you can’t hunt with the big dogs, stay on the porch.

  John slapped his forehead, and red crept up his neck. “Why am I not surprised?” He held out his hand. “Where did you get it?”

  I nudged my purse under my chair with one foot. “That’s actually a funny story.”

  He wasn’t laughing. “Save the story and just tell me where you got it.”

  “It was in the garbage, of all places.”

  “You know what, Jenna? Let me have the phone; then you can tell me, in little bits and pieces or however you want to, all about finding it.” He snapped his fingers lightly.

  “Wait. I need you to promise me something first.”

  This time he was the one who drew a deep breath. In fact, I thought I heard him counting under his breath. Patience is a virtue. Maybe he was developing his. “I don’t make promises, and I don’t make deals. This is not television. Hand. Over. The. Phone. Now.”

  “Well, I did make a promise. I promised the person who had this phone that I’d talk to you about it before you made any rash decisions.”

  He pushed himself out of his chair and put his palms on the desk. “What I do with information received and pertinent to an ongoing investigation is not your affair. Give me the phone.”

  I leaned back instinctively. “The person who had this has a really good alibi for the time of the murder. I don’t think she could possibly have killed J.D., but there is some information on the phone that could do her harm.”

  He took pity on me. Or else he was just sick of having me in his office.

  “Jenna, give me a little credit. If this isn’t helpful, we won’t use it. And I have yet to make information public in a current investigation.” His hand was still stretched toward me. “Who had the phone? Whose garbage was it in? And how did you end up with it?”

  “I was gathering garbage at the diner when I spotted something. I fished around and found the phone. At first, I thought it was mine. It’s exactly like mine, so that was a natural assumption.” I looked at him to try and gauge his reaction.

  Stone-faced.

  “Anyway, when I went to check a message from Alex, there were several messages I didn’t recognize. Then I found my phone in my purse.”

  “So who does the phone belong to?” He held out his hand. “Never mind. Just let me have the phone, and I’ll find out.”

  “I’d like to.” I glanced at his unyielding face. “The thing is, the person who had this phone doesn’t want Lisa to know that she had it.”

  “This phone is evidence in a murder investigation. So far I’ve purposely avoided asking you how long ago you found it. But you don’t even want to know what it would be like if you’re charged with withholding evidence or being an accessory to murder.” John glared at me. “Tell me what you know and quit playing games.”

  “Okay.” I caved. “J.D. and Debbie were just starting to see each other behind Lisa’s back. Debbie doesn’t want Lisa to find out.” I reached down and picked up my purse. “They were planning to tell Lisa, but then he got killed.”

  “Or J.D. went ahead and told Lisa, and she got mad and shot him,” John murmured. He looked quickly at me. “Ignore that. I was just thinking aloud.”

  I didn’t like the direction his thoughts were going. “I thought Lisa had an alibi.” I pulled the phone out of my purse and laid it on the desk.

  “Not an airtight one.” He looked me in the eye. “But you’re sure Debbie does?” He picked up the phone and flipped it open as if the murderer’s name was written in the keys.

  “Well, she was washing dishes in the kitchen at the diner.” But did she have an airtight alibi? I couldn’t say positively that she hadn’t left the diner for a few minutes. How long would it take to run out back, shoot an unsuspecting victim, and dash back inside? And even follow me out and knock me in the head? Anyone at the diner easily could have done it. But there was the fact that she was possibly the only one who knew he was supposed to be out there. Unless he had a whole bevy of secret girlfriends.

  “So you can say for sure that she never went outside?” John searched my face as if he could see the questions running through my mind.

  I reluctantly shook my head. “Not positively.”

  “Well, then, don’t expect me to make you any promises. I will do what is necessary to bring a killer to justice. But I will not harm any innocent bystanders if I can help it.”

  It wasn’t the promise I wanted, but I had to be content with that.

  *****

  “Reporting for duty,” I said as I breezed into the kitchen. Getting rid of Debbie’s phone yesterday had done a lot to lighten my burden of responsibility. If I could keep Lisa out of jail and figure out how to solve Carly’s problems, I’d be batting a thousand.

  Carly smiled at me. “Just in time.” She wiped her hands on her apron as she went to the large refrigerator for more ingredients. Whatever she was cooking, the aroma was delicious. Alice nodded to me from the stove. Funny how well they were working together now when Alice and Harvey had only about a week left on their agreement to help out.

  “You should bottle that smell,” I told them as I got my own apron and checked the pocket. Yes, my order pad and pencil were there. I was ready for business.

  Carly grinned. “If only we could figure out how.”

  I was glad to see her smiling. She’d told me last night on the phone that the funeral had been therapeutic for her in a way. And that with God’s help she was closer to figuring things out. I’d been praying ever since that God would work it out. He was so much better at handling things than I was.

  “Anything I need to know before I go out there?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Harvey’s seating folks, and Susan and Marco have their hands full. Debbie called and said she’s under the weather.” She sent me a questioning look, and I shrugged. I’d told Carly the whole thing on the phone last night. And I didn’t know anything new.

  I pushed the swinging door and was immersed in the hubbub made by happy diners. I waved to Harvey to let him know my section of tables could be put into use and headed to the menu stand. The next couple of hours passed in a blur. I had the fleeting reflection that this job wasn’t so bad. Hard, but interesting. Mostly hard, though. My thoughts were scattered when a familiar voice trumpeted my name.

  I looked up.

  “Hey, Miss Lady, how much longer are you chained to that apron?” Jolene wended her way through a maze of tables to me, conversing the entire way. Presumably with me, but loudly enough for it to be a community conversation. “I came to tell you bye-bye.”

  “Have a seat, Jolene,” I murmured, in the hopes she would follow my example and talk more quietly. “Let me bring you a glass of tea.”

  I left a menu on the table and went to the counter. I returned with her tea. “Can I get you anything to eat?”

  “Nah, sweetie. Thanks, but I ate a late breakfast at the hotel. I just thought you and me might have a little heart-to-heart before I head out.”

  “I can’t leave, but I can take a break for a few minutes. Let me clear it with Harvey.” I went to his station and explained that I would be on break for the next ten minutes, grabbed myself a glass of tea, and went back to sit with Jolene.

  “So, you’re heading out, huh? Where to?”

  “You know, girl, I been thinking about that a lot. I ain’t had what you might call roots since I was a little kid in pigtails. Now I got this money, compliments of Jimmy-boy, God rest his soul, and I think I might just make a down payment on a little house somewheres. My granny’s place in Texas comes to mind. I ’magine her old house is tore down, but I
b’lieve I could find me something reasonable around there. I might just go back to waitressing my own self. I’d make enough to pay the bills, and I’d have a life like most folks have.” She beamed at me like a first grader showing her mother a good report card.

  “Jolene, I think that’s a great idea.”

  “Seems kinda funny, don’t it? Jimmy and me never did have what most folks would think of as a good marriage. He never was one to make a honest living. More times than not, I was the one who took care of him.” She shook her head in wonder. “But here I am, fixin’ to buy a house, and it’s thanks to him. The Lord surely does work in mysterious ways, don’t He?”

  “He sure does,” I agreed. I took a sip of tea. “Jolene, I hope things work out well for you.”

  “Why, I’m sure they will, chickie. You can’t keep a good woman down. Speaking of women, you never did introduce me to Jimmy’s latest flame.”

  I sent a brief prayer of thanksgiving that neither Debbie nor Lisa was at the diner.

  “No, I didn’t. And she’s not here right now.”

  “Ah, well, I guess I’ll live without meeting her. I’m ready to blow this burg and hit that little watering hole in the next county. Then I’m off to Texas.” She stood and leaned down to envelope me in a scented, smothering hug. “Don’t take life too serious, girlfriend. It’ll be over before you know it.” She gave me a cheery grin and headed to the door. She detoured through Marco’s section and pinched his cheek before he could dodge. “Been a pleasure seeing you, sweet cakes. Every single time.” And Jolene Highwater was gone. The effect was of a gentle breeze after a howling windstorm.

  The ringing of my cell phone jerked me to attention.

  “Hello?”

  “Jenna?” Debbie’s voice could’ve scorched my ear. “Forget about me singing at your wedding.” She spat the words at me.

  “Why?” I replied guardedly. But she talked right over me.

  “I’ve spent the last hour at the police station. Doesn’t that sound like fun? Well, it’s not. Being accused of murder is not a joke at all. I knew this would happen. But nooo. You had to take it into your own hands. Well, from now on, just butt out of my life.”

  I bit back the reminder that she’d asked me to take the phone to John and talk to him on her behalf. And that I’d done exactly that. “Debbie, calm down. Did John actually accuse you of murder? That doesn’t sound right.”

  “John didn’t come right out and accuse me of murder.” She was a little less agitated but still touchy. “But I could tell he was suspicious. He really gave me the third degree.”

  “Well, he would have to question you. After all,” I pointed out in a reasonable tone, “you withheld a valuable piece of evidence.” She began sputtering, but I continued, “He isn’t still suspicious of you, is he? I mean, he didn’t threaten to lock you up or warn you not to leave town, did he?”

  “No,” she said quietly, as if my words were finally soaking in. “And he did say he wouldn’t tell Lisa unless he has to. So that’s a plus.”

  “See? Doing the right thing is good.” I reminded myself of Pollyanna.

  A muted growl from the other end of the phone warned me to tread lightly. “And think of it this way: You won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

  “That’s true.” She was almost back to normal. “Tell Carly I’ll be in for the evening shift.” She hung up without saying good-bye, but I was thankful to get through that conversation with a whole ear. I went to the kitchen to give Carly an update. We had the break room to ourselves, so I told her all about Debbie’s irate phone call.

  “Well, it’s best for Debbie to get it out in the open. I’m sorry if she hurt your feelings”—she smiled at me—“but you were right. And getting your ears blistered is a small price to see that the right thing is done.”

  *****

  I turned off the water. Was that my phone ringing? I hoped it wasn’t an emergency, because whoever it was would have to wait until I dried, dressed, and towel-dried my hair.

  Finally, wrapped in my robe, I checked my voice messages. “Miss Stafford, this is Lawrence Hall.” It took me a second to realize it was Larry. That cleared up the mystery of which name he went by. “Bob Pryor asked me to call you and tell you that Lisa’s been taken into custody.” He left his number in case I needed more information then ended the message.

  I glanced at the clock hanging by the front door. It was only 8:30. I considered my options. Dry my hair and go on to bed. Toss and turn all night wondering what happened to Lisa. Or go down to the police station and offer moral support and comfort to Bob and Wilma. Not to mention have a little talk with John.

  An easy decision.

  I quickly dressed, combed out my hair, and stuck it up in a messy bun. By a quarter ’til nine, I pulled in front of the station and headed in.

  “I’d like to see the chief, please,” I said to the desk sergeant.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am; he’s in a meeting at the moment.”

  “Will you tell him that Jenna Stafford is waiting out here to see him?” I smiled at him. “I just need to talk to him for a minute.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am.” He leaned toward me. “He told me not to interrupt him.”

  “Well, I’ll just sit out here and wait if you don’t mind.” I turned to sit in one of the chairs near the desk.

  “If you’d like, there’s a waiting area just down the hall on your left.” He pointed. “There are some people in there already, but the chairs are a little more comfortable.”

  “Thanks. I’ll go down there. Will you be sure Chief Conner gets my message?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll tell him as soon as he comes out.”

  Bob and Wilma were huddled together in the corner when I walked in. They wore identical shell-shocked expressions.

  Bob stood and came toward me. “Jenna, thanks so much for coming. We’ve hired an attorney, but he has to drive in from Little Rock.”

  I gave him a one-armed hug. “I’m so sorry.”

  He returned my hug, but as soon as he released me, he began pacing. “He said for Lisa not to answer any questions, but I don’t know what she’s saying in there. They wouldn’t let us go in with her.”

  “I’m sure her lawyer will be in soon.” I bent down and gave Wilma a hug. “He’ll get this straightened out.” I sat down next to her.

  “Bob, stop pacing.” Wilma leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

  “Jenna, you’ve been around this kind of thing. Can you think of anything else we can do?” Bob sat back down in the chair on the other side of Wilma.

  “You just need to stay strong.” I wished I had a better answer for them.

  “You know, you spend your life protecting your child, and then something out of the blue like this happens.” Tears rolled from Wilma’s closed eyes and made tracks down her cheeks. “It makes you wonder. . . .” Her voice trailed off. I held my breath while I waited for her to say something more. Or for Bob to answer her.

  When no one said anything, I patted Wilma on the back. “Why don’t I go and get us something to drink from the vending machine?” I left them to their painful memories and headed out the door. “I’ll be right back.”

  I walked down the hall to the outer office where I had seen the vending machines. A uniformed sleeve brushed my arm, and I looked up into Seth’s smiling eyes.

  “Hey, Nancy Drew. What are you doing here?”

  “Larry called me.” I stuck some bills into the machine and hit the button for water.

  “Lisa is in there with John right now. I feel sorry for her folks, but we’ve got enough on that girl to put her away for life now that we have the motive.”

  *****

  *****

  Chapter Eighteen

  What goes around, comes around.

  I stared at Seth. Now they had a motive. Which I had handed to them on a silver platter. Lisa was frighteningly self-centered, and if she had known her boyfriend and her best friend were cheating on her, well, mur
der wasn’t so far-fetched. But I was convinced she had no idea. I just had to convince John.

  “I don’t think she did it, Seth.” I hit the button again and watched another bottle fall out.

  His eyebrows drew together. “She had motive, the weapon belonged to her and had her fingerprints on it, his blood was on a towel found in her car, and her alibi won’t hold water.” He ticked each item off on his fingers. “And now she’s lawyering up. You just don’t want to believe it because of her parents.”

  “I don’t want to believe it because she didn’t do it, Seth. Is there any way I can talk to John?” I clutched the three bottles of water to my chest.

  “As soon as her lawyer gets here, he’ll probably want to talk to her alone. When he does, John will come out.” He’d no sooner said that than the front door burst open and a distinguished-looking, black-haired man in a three-piece suit pushed open the double glass doors and rushed up to the desk. “And I think he just arrived.” Seth said the last words in a whisper.

  After the desk sergeant showed the attorney to the room where Lisa waited, I dropped off the water to Bob and Wilma then hurried back into the hallway so I could catch John as he came out of the interrogation room.

  I touched his arm when he stepped out the door. “John, could I have a minute?”

  “You, again? You’re just like a bad penny.” It didn’t sound like a joke when he said it. “You have exactly”—he looked at his watch—“five minutes. That’s it.” He motioned me into his office. “And I’m only giving you that because you came through with the motive.”

  “This is all wrong. Lisa didn’t kill J.D.” I pushed the door shut. “She had no idea he was cheating on her. So she had no motive.”

  “Jenna, just go on home and let me do my job.” Déjà vu all over again. Hadn’t he said those exact words when he brought my nephew, Zac, in for questioning in an earlier murder case? And look how wrong he’d been then.

  “I’m not trying to keep you from doing your job. I’m just trying to keep you from looking like a fool.” I resisted the urge to stomp my foot for emphasis. “I’m telling you, she had no reason to kill him. I’ve talked to her about it.”