by Lois Winston
I’d never been one for causal affairs, but this man tempted me to do things I’d never done before. How far would the new me go? Would I give him another chance?
If only Charlie hadn’t destroyed my faith in my instincts. Never before had I felt like I was drifting through life without a rudder. Without that built-in self-check of my tried and true instincts, how could I be sure that I didn’t do something exceedingly foolish?
I assumed Rafe didn’t kill Dudley. How big of an imagination stretch was it to think that his interest in me was more than superficial?
My heart wanted to believe in the power of love. My head knew it wasn’t worth the risk.
Who was I deluding with all this self-analysis? Even after catching him with Christine I still wanted him. The new Cleo Jones was an animal.
FIFTEEN
The house where Jasper and his mother lived had an uncared-for look, like the owners had moved to Florida a few years ago and neglected to sell the place. High grass filled the yard in front of the tired two-story clapboard house. Trees encroached on the house from the sides and rear, as if the forest was reclaiming the acreage and the forest was winning.
Two beagles reclining on the junk-filled porch bayed at our approach. I stopped in the rutted, weed-choked lane. My golf cleats might come in handy if I had to make a rapid getaway through this thick growth.
There were no cars in the drive, no sign of recent civilization if one didn’t count the satellite dish on the sagging roof. In my mind I could hear banjos twanging like they did in that movie about isolated inbred country folk.
Didn’t Rafe pay Jasper anything down at the golf club? From the looks of this place Jasper desperately needed a raise. And a bush hog to find his yard again. At the golf course Jasper had access to all kinds of mowing machines. Why didn’t he bring one home and clean up this mess?
Or, did he like hiding out in the woods? This level of overgrowth would certainly discourage visitors.
Jonette reached up and locked her door. “I’m not getting out. This place is too spooky.”
“You are too getting out.” I hit the master lock button and unlocked all the doors. “I’m trying to keep your butt out of jail. If I’m risking my neck for you, the least you can do is provide moral support.”
Jonette eyed the high grass and frowned. “I’m going to get ticks and God knows what else if I step foot out there.”
So was I, but what was the point in whining about it? I opened my door. “What’s a few ticks among friends?”
The beagles bayed louder as we approached the porch. The eerie noise reminded me of the sound hunting dogs made when they found something that smelled like dinner. I sure hoped these dogs didn’t have food on the brain.
I stopped short of the badly warped, unpainted porch steps. If I had to defend myself against the killer dogs, I had my keys, my pocketbook, and Jonette. Not an arsenal by any means. If I was going to take investigating seriously, I would have to be better prepared for danger in the future. It might be time to dig Daddy’s pistol out from under my bed.
I hollered above the din of barking dogs, “Mrs. Cooper? You in there?”
“Okay. We did this.” Jonette tugged on my arm. “No one’s here. Let’s go.”
I stood firm. A thump inside alerted me that someone was in the house. “Wait.”
When no one greeted us, I tried again. “Mrs. Cooper, are you in there?”
The interior door creaked open. I heard an unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. A metallic cylinder thrust through a hole in the screen door. “Who wants to know?” a gravelly voice called out.
The object in the door was a rifle barrel, and it was pointing right at me. I moved a few paces to the side and the gun didn’t follow. The dogs continued barking for all they were worth.
“Let’s get out of here.” Jonette stood directly behind me and tugged on my belt loop. “This woman is crazy.”
“I’m Cleo Jones and this is my friend Jonette Moore, Mrs. Cooper.” Something was not quite right here and I wasn’t ready to go until I figured out what it was that was bothering me. “We’re here to talk to you about your pension fund. I believe you know my mother, Delilah Sampson.”
As I spoke, the gun barrel angled towards my new location. Interesting. Did Mrs. Cooper have poor eyesight?
The gun wobbled. “Hush, dogs,” she said and the dogs hushed. “You say you’re Dee’s daughter?”
“Yes ma’am,” I answered. “I was a Sampson until I married Charlie Jones down at the bank.”
“Those no-good cheaters at the bank,” Mrs. Cooper grumbled. “You’re married to one of them?” She stepped closer to the door. More gun barrel slid out, but I could make out her rounded petite frame. Short white hair frizzled around a well-lined face. A faded floral shift spanned her plus-sized figure.
The gun lined up on me again. I scooted sideways out of self-preservation. Who knew when she would pull the trigger? “Not anymore. Please, Mrs. Cooper, I need to talk to you.”
“How do I know this isn’t some trick?” Mrs. Cooper asked. “Are you going to take my house away from me next? You’ll have to drag me out of here. I won’t come willingly.”
“Mrs. Cooper, I don’t want your house,” I said. “I want to know about your pension fund. How long ago did the money disappear?”
The rifle barrel followed the sound of my voice to my new location. Violet Cooper may have called off the dogs, but she wasn’t taking any chances. I whispered to Jonette to stay put when I moved next time. I wanted to see what Mrs. Cooper would do if we split up.
“Two years ago.” Bitterness ate through her voice like battery acid. “Those GD crooks at the bank took all my money. Do you think I want to live like this? It’s all their fault. I got to have an eye operation. Every dime Jasper makes goes toward that surgery. I won’t have the procedure done until I can pay for it.”
“Don’t you have medical insurance?” I asked.
She snorted. “I didn’t need insurance. I had the pension fund instead. Fat lot of good that did me. You were right to get shed of that banker fella. They’re crooks, every last one of ‘em.”
The gun followed me to my new location. Poor Mrs. Cooper. She was stuck in a falling-down house while Jasper worked for peanuts at the golf course. It would probably take him fifty years to come up with enough cash to pay for her eye operation on his minimum-wage salary. I’d speak with Mama to see if her cronies in the hospital auxiliary couldn’t do something to help Mrs. Cooper. “What kind of operation do you need? Is it that new laser surgery?”
“Cataracts. Got ‘em in both eyes. Can’t see worth a hoot unless I look out of the side of my eyes, but the surgery is supposed to be a miracle cure. That’s the trouble with getting old. Your body wears out just when you finally get good sense. Then it’s a steady diet of doctors.”
“What do you think happened to the pension fund?” I asked. All the while I was thinking, could investigation really be this easy? It seemed surreal that I could be this calm when someone was pointing a gun at me, but there it was. I was investigating Dudley’s murder, and I was going to beat the cops to solving the case.
“Someone took it, that’s what. The po-lice couldn’t figure out who done it, so I didn’t get a dime of my money back. My life savings. Everyone on the advisory board came out squeaky clean, but it was those bank crooks that took my money. I think that Donnie Davis did it. You know him? I believe he goes by the name of Dudley.”
Here was another trail back to Dudley. Was this a coincidence? “I know him, but I’m sorry to say that he’s dead. He died last week.”
Mrs. Cooper visibly started. “Serves him right. Well, Daddy always said you can’t take it with you. What did that Dudley do with my money? If he turns up with an extra two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, it’s mine and I want it back.”
“I hear you, Mrs. Cooper. I’ll look into it. I promise.”
“What did you say you do?” she asked.
I caught J
onette’s eye and edged backwards down the rutted lane. “I’m an accountant, Mrs. Cooper. My Daddy used to do your taxes for you, and I’d be happy to have you as a client again. Thanks for taking the time to talk to me this afternoon. Bye now.”
Jonette and I hopped back in my car and I backed rapidly through the knee-high weeds. “Violet Cooper couldn’t see to kill Dudley if she tried.”
No matter how much I wanted Jasper’s mom to be the killer, it just wasn’t happening. Unless she had someone drive her to the golf course and back, and then lead her out on the dark fairway, Violet Cooper just wasn’t a plausible suspect.
I continued my thinking aloud. “She’s practically blind because of those cataracts. She tracked our location by the sound of my voice. She had motive, all right, and the skill to shoot a man, but she doesn’t have the wherewithal to pull a murder off. And she’d rather have her money back than Dudley killed. I don’t see her as a murderer.”
“You’re such a softie,” Jonette retorted crisply. “I bet Violet Cooper could kill if she had to. I’ll bet she wouldn’t have any trouble pulling the trigger on someone, especially if it was Dudley.”
I breathed a sigh of relief when I reached the main road and mowed grass. There was something to be said for civilization. “But she would’ve needed an accomplice and Jasper’s too hotheaded to pull it off. She’s not the one, Jonette. The murderer has to be someone else.”
“I wanted it to be her.”
I patted Jonette’s hand. “So did I.”
“Now what?” Jonette asked.
“Now we keep asking around to find out who else had trouble with Dudley or the bank.”
“Great. That narrows it down to just about anyone who ever had a mistake on their bank statement. It’s a wonder Detective Brain Dead didn’t accuse Bitsy of killing her ex.”
My hands twitched in response and I ran off the road. I jerked the steering wheel, but the Gray Beast bounced along the shoulder until it was good and ready to come back on the road again.
Jonette swore under her breath. “You trying to kill me?”
“No. You startled me. I keep forgetting you don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?”
“Bitsy is already on Britt’s suspect list.”
“And you harbored a criminal in your house?” Jonette asked in amazement. “I always knew Bitsy was nuts. No woman could love Dudley unless something was wrong with her.”
“Bite your tongue, Jonette. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Bitsy’s got it tough. You wouldn’t want to be in her shoes, either.”
“Well now you got my curious up. What’s wrong with her shoes?”
“Bitsy and Dudley were on the verge of reconciling their marriage but something went very wrong. Bitsy was about to say yes, but Dudley stood her up at the bank. Something about a two-hour lunch with another woman. Now Bitsy’s in line for a large life insurance settlement, and that’s not all.”
“What are you talking about?”
I took a deep breath. I wasn’t exactly betraying a confidence. Bitsy had told her boys, and Britt knew. Jonette might as well hear it from me instead of down at the tavern. “She’s pregnant with Dudley’s baby.”
“Ohmigod.” Jonette whistled under her breath. “It’s a wonder Britt doesn’t have her sitting in a jail cell right now. If a man two-timed me while I was pregnant with his kid, I’d kill him for sure.”
“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have settled for one shot between the eyes, and neither would Bitsy.” I turned off the mountain road back onto the highway. “Something just doesn’t feel right about this whole thing. I believe Dudley’s death has to do with his banking clients. Too bad I don’t have an in there anymore.”
“Don’t.” A panicked look crossed Jonette’s eyes. “Do not for one moment even consider having anything to do with Charlie Jones on my account. That man is not good for you. I want you to stay as far away from him as possible.”
The sun came out from behind a cloud and I could suddenly see every speck of dust floating around inside my car. “There’s one thing I know for sure about Charlie Jones. He’ll be coming around to see me soon. Charla will tell him about the big kiss. Charlie has been fine with me not having a life while he’s playing house with his silicone bride, but he won’t like this news.”
“He doesn’t have any say in it.” Jonette poked me with her finger. “If you let him boss you around again, I’ll kill you myself. Stay away from Charlie, Cleo.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I said. “I have a plan.”
Yeah. I had a plan all right. I just wish I had more confidence in it. My plan was like Mama’s beef stew recipe. Throw a lot of ingredients in the pot and see what happens.
The trouble was, sometimes her stews came out great, sometimes they were disasters.
SIXTEEN
When I walked out to get the mail the next day, I saw my neighbor Ed Monday doing the exact same thing. His round face was as red as Mama’s gets when she’s having one of her spells. Had he received some bad news? I could see the papers trembling in his hand from my front porch.
According to Charlie, my neighbor had been removed from the bank for yelling at Dudley. Escorted out by the security guard had been Charlie’s exact words.
Charlie wasn’t the most trustworthy of sources, but he’d succeeded in planting a seed of suspicion in my mind about my neighbor. Other than spend a lot of time in his dark house, Ed Monday had never done anything else out of the ordinary.
Something was bothering him now. Ed was my neighbor. What if he was having a heart attack?
Would he be offended if I invaded his personal space to check on him? Would he think I was being nosy? Probably.
Did that matter if he really needed help? I hated indecision, but the truth was, Ed wasn’t a social creature. Oh, we waved faithfully in greeting back and forth in the yard, but he’d never accepted my dinner invitations. He’d never invited us over to his place.
I’d respected that, but now I was stuck. I couldn’t walk away from a neighbor in need. What if the circumstances were reversed and one of my girls needed help? I would want my neighbors to help them, so it was good to be proactive about this kind of thing.
If it wasn’t something I could help with, at least I would have made the effort. I walked over to the edge of my yard. “Ed?” No response. I tried again, louder. “Ed, you okay?”
“What?” He looked up from his letter and seemed genuinely surprised to see me standing nearby. His thick glasses glinted in the afternoon sunlight. His tired clothing and ratty black sneakers should have gone in the Goodwill bag long ago.
Did he resent my intrusion? If so, he’d just have to deal with it. I was on a mission of mercy. “I was getting my mail and I noticed you seemed very upset. Did you get some bad news?”
“Bad news?” he repeated.
The poor man was in shock. Time for me to be more forceful. I crossed the invisible line delineating our properties and sat us both down on the steps. I recognized the preprinted return address on the open envelope in his hand. It was from the Hogan’s Glen Bank where Charlie and Dudley worked.
“Do you have a problem with the bank?”
“Those incompetent buffoons,” Ed railed. “Every month they send me an erroneous statement. The numbers never match up with the ending balance from the last one. They keep notifying me that I’m overdue on loan payments, and I never obtained a loan from them.”
I’d never seen Ed so distraught. “I’m sure it can all be straightened out with a phone call to the bank.”
“Ha. That’s what you think.” His sweating, florid face tightened with anger. “I’ve been down to that bank a bunch of times. That Donnie Davis said he’d take care of this two weeks ago. He lied to my face. He’s a liar and a crook and now, he’s dead. What am I going to do?”
My puzzle-solving radar went on full alert. Dudley had looked into Ed’s problem at the bank and now Dudley was dead. I could connect the pieces with the be
st of them, but I couldn’t envision Dudley outright stealing from Ed Monday.
“I know someone down at the bank,” I said. “I could have them look into it for you.” Charlie owed me big time and I’d hurt him if he didn’t answer my questions about Ed’s account. Not that I expected him to share Ed’s financial information with me, but he could discreetly check Ed’s claim about his erroneous bank statements.
“What could it hurt?” Ed’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’m tired of wasting my breath talking to those crooks. As soon as I get this resolved, I’m moving my account to another bank, even if the Hogan’s Glen Bank is the only one in town.”
I heard my porch door open. Glancing over, I saw Mama waving at me from our doorway. “Cleo, phone for you in the office,” she called.
I nodded, torn between telling her to take a message and wanting to hoof it back over there to answer the phone. Maybe it was another Homeowners Association who’d heard of my wonderful accounting services. I turned back to Ed. “Do you want me to come back when I’m done?”
“I’m fine.” With effort, Ed hoisted all three hundred pounds upright.
I searched his face quickly again. My neighborly sentiment was about used up, but he did seem less red-faced and his hands weren’t visibly trembling anymore. I didn’t feel too bad about abandoning him. “I’ll let you know if my questions turn up anything down at the bank.”
The quickest way back to the office was through my house. I hoped whoever had called hadn’t hung up by now. Mama snagged my arm as I charged through the foyer. “Whoa there,” she said.
I disengaged her fingers. “I need to get this call, Mama. I’ll be right back.”
“There is no call.” Mama propped her hands on her hips. “I made it up when I saw you over there with that man.”
I rolled my eyes. Trust Mama to rescue me when I was trying to help someone else. “That man is our neighbor and he has a serious problem.”
