Murder by Gravity

by Barbara Graham

  Children, including hers, were shrieking and clapping. Ones not confined to a cart either picked the balls up or kicked them like soccer balls until a parent stopped them. Theo watched as an older couple was laughing too hard to pick up the popcorn balls at their feet. She thought, as much entertainment as she had brought to the assembled shoppers and staff, that maybe she should take a bow. It was chaos, and yet during the height of the confusion, Theo suddenly felt a breath of warm air waft across the back of her neck, like someone had deliberately breathed on her skin. The sensation was paradoxically chilling.

  Theo shivered and turned to see who was behind her. No one. At least, no one who seemed close enough to blow on her neck. She couldn’t identify the source, and the movement of the air had stopped. Gone as though it never happened. Theo glanced back at the shopping cart. A folded piece of yellow paper rested on the top of her eggs and bread. It had not been there seconds earlier. Simple curiosity made her open it.

  “There’s a private investigator posing as a victim of domestic violence. Trust no one.” The note was unsigned.

  The grocery store was neither large nor crowded. Even so, Theo couldn’t guess which shopper had delivered the message and didn’t try to determine the identity. Theo absolutely understood what the meaning of the message was and why it was delivered to her.

  Theo quickly pulled her cell phone from her purse and, with shaking fingers, pushed the buttons to make a call. As she waited for the call to be answered, she noticed a woman slowly walking past her, carefully steering her cart to avoid the scattered popcorn balls and the people cleaning them up. Theo had seen the woman before, but they had not actually met. Had this woman delivered the message?

  Her call was connected and Theo spoke without preamble, “I just received an anonymous note claiming there’s a spy. Keep an eye out.” She pressed the “call end” button and continued to watch the woman and the cart. Trying to think about six things at one time clogged her brain for a moment, and then suddenly she really focused on what she was seeing. Surprised, she spoke out loud. “There’s a knife sticking out of that woman’s back.”

  Theo hurried after the woman, the increase in cart speed making the girls scream with delight, especially as the wonky wheel made a straight line impossible to steer. Theo almost crashed the cart into another display. “Ma’am?” No response, so Theo tried calling out to her again, louder. “Ma’am?”

  Stopping to gaze at Theo, a look of confusion and inquiry crossed the woman’s tired face. “Are you talking to me?”

  Theo’s head was bobbing up and down. “How can I help you? Are you all right?”

  “Absolutely. And yourself?” Lovely but sad, large dark eyes met Theo’s and the woman smiled politely. She looked decades younger when she smiled.

  Theo blurted out, “Yes, but I don’t have a knife stuck in my back.” Even as the words tumbled from her lips Theo regretted her unfortunate tendency to let her thoughts spill uncensored from her lips. Surely she could have phrased it better, or at least not all but shouted at the poor woman.

  “What are you saying?” The woman turned her head from side to side as if trying to see down her own back. She must have finally seen the handle protruding from her heavy sweater. “Oh, my.” She swayed on her feet, clinging to the cart handle, obviously dizzy.

  Theo knew she couldn’t support the shopper’s full weight but helped the woman slide down until she sat on the floor before pressing the “emergency call” button on her phone. What would she do without her cell phone? She used it often, but was not chained to it.

  “Theo?” Rex was working the dispatch desk. “What’s the emergency?”

  “I’m fine.” Theo also thought caller ID was a wonderful invention in this situation. “I’m at Food City, in the aisle with canned soups, and there’s a woman here who has obviously been stabbed in the back. The knife’s still embedded in it, but she’s unconscious now.”

  “Please stay on the phone.” Rex’s voice was quiet but authoritative.

  Obligingly, Theo kept her phone pressed to one ear. Seconds later, Rex returned to her call.

  “Okay, Theo, the ambulance is on the way and so is Mike,” Rex said. “Please stay there until they arrive.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll wait.” It didn’t take long. One advantage of living in such a small community was that it didn’t take very long to get from one side of it to the other. The clinic and ambulance bay were only a few blocks from the store.

  Still, by the time the ambulance crew made it into the grocery store with their gurney, a small crowd of curious onlookers had jostled until everyone who wanted to watch was close enough to do so. There was no small talk between the paramedics and anyone else. Instead, they focused on the unconscious woman. After checking her condition, they talked quietly to each other briefly, and then into their radios before they carefully placed her on the gurney. They kept her on her side and packed her like crystal, making sure she couldn’t roll and push against the knife. No one touched the knife.

  Deputy Mike Ott made his way through the little crowd to Theo’s side. He smiled. “I’m sure you don’t seek out these situations.”

  “I know.” Theo gave a little laugh and a shrug. “It’s a gift.”

  “Want to tell me what you saw in here or we could go outside or—?” Mike herded her and the girls away from the crowd watching the paramedics.

  “Here. Let’s get it done quickly. You’re busy and I still need a few more grocery items.” Theo didn’t give Mike time to finish his question. “There really isn’t much to tell. I was just doing my shopping and noticed there was a knife sticking out of the woman’s back and I asked her if she needed help or something along those lines. If you want to know what I think, I don’t think she had a clue the knife was there until I mentioned it.”

  Mike’s expression changed from professional curiosity to amazement. “How could she not know?”

  “Beats me, but she didn’t.” Theo shivered a bit; the shock and adrenalin of the episode were fading and now she felt chilled. “As soon as I pointed it out to her, she became faint and then collapsed.”

  “Do you know her?”

  “Not by name. I think she is new in town, and she always looks sad whenever I do see her.”

  “So you don’t know her name or who, if anyone, is a relative?” Mike frowned as he worked on his notes.

  “No.” Theo couldn’t imagine a sadder situation. A potentially serious injury and no family. At least not one they knew about. “You’ll have to ask someone else.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Tony stood on the sidewalk outside Theo’s quilt shop. He was momentarily distracted from his curiosity about his wife’s whereabouts by a citizen, Nem, the egg man, who stopped him on the sidewalk. Theo didn’t usually take a long time to run her errands, so Tony assumed she’d return in a few minutes. In the meantime, he was forced to bend over at the waist in order to hear what one of his favorite “old guys” was saying. The elderly gentleman was regaling him with a story of an autumn blizzard that had hit when the old man was a boy. Tony wouldn’t be surprised if the man’s recollection of the depth of the snow was adjusted to fit the length of his legs at the time, but maybe not.

  From the corner of his eye, Tony watched as the unmistakable figure of a chunky woman, Bathsheba Cartwright, definitely not his tiny wife, charged in their direction. Trapped. Tony wouldn’t just walk away in the middle of the old man’s story, and he doubted this woman would shy away from interrupting them. He couldn’t quite suppress a groan.

  The old guy peered around, checking to see what Tony was watching. No explanation was necessary. “She’s coming at us like a runaway train. Uh-oh, she’s almost here. We could go inside.”

  Tony thought the old guy’s expression hid nothing. The elderly man and the middle-aged woman had clearly collided somewhere. Whatever their history was, he surmised it had not ended on a high note. They made it two steps closer to the quilt-shop door.

  “O
h, Sheriff!” The woman, Bathsheba, sounded relieved to have caught them. “Nem.” She barely acknowledged the elderly man’s presence and quickly turned to concentrate her intense gaze on Tony, dismissing Nem. “We need to talk. We have important plans to make, you and I.”

  “Pardon me?” Tony studied her face. Excitement, not fear, lit her dark eyes. “Plans?”

  “Certainly. I can’t have you and that gorgeous Wade Clay-bough stepping into my investigation. The sooner I can get started, the sooner order will be restored.” Bathsheba paused, her breath depleted, and inhaled through her gaping mouth. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing for you to do in this investigation. I’ll handle the whole thing.”

  Tony didn’t know what she was talking about but knew he wouldn’t like it, whatever it was. He leaned closer, staring into her eyes. “Don’t get involved.”

  “Nonsense.” She patted his shoulder. “I’ve already begun.”

  He watched with some curiosity as the much shorter woman managed to look down her nose at him. Given that he was quite a bit taller than she was, he found it intriguing but not enough to amuse him. Not even his mother patted his shoulder like that. “Stay out of my department’s business.”

  “Nonsense. I have every reason to volunteer.” Digging through her voluminous purse, Bathsheba didn’t look up and actually laughed at his words. “I see it on television every day. Citizens like me helping the clearly incompetent police get to the bottom of crime. You should be thrilled I’m here to help you.”

  “Incompetent? Help me?” Tony blinked, hoping he would quickly awaken from this nightmare. “Television?”

  Nem, the egg man, the elderly gentleman he’d been chatting with, suddenly burst into wild laughter. Wobbling, the senior citizen almost stepped off the curb and would have fallen into the street if Tony hadn’t quickly reached out a hand, grasped the old guy’s elbow, and hauled him back onto the sidewalk. Still chuckling, the old man whispered. “She thinks she’s Miss Marple.”

  “Not even Agatha Christie would send Miss Marple into this county.” Tony frowned again at the woman. “Are you writing a book by chance?”

  “I intend to.” She appeared to be confiding in him as she brandished a notebook and pen she’d retrieved from the voluminous bag. “As soon as I solve this first case, I’ll dictate the whole story to my secretary. I’ll be much too busy with personal appearances to type the whole thing myself.”

  Momentarily distracted by the picture she painted, Tony repeated, “Your secretary?”

  “Oh, yes, I’m sure the publishers will supply one.” She blinked. “I can’t be expected to actually write it all down myself. Silly man.”

  Tony was reminded of the book he was working on himself. It took enormous amounts of time and energy, but he continued to plow forward. He had neither a secretary nor a contract, and none of the professional authors he’d met professed to having such assistance. If there was a secretary, it was the author who paid the salary. “I’ll say this again. Stay out of my department’s business.” The ringing of his cell phone gave him a good excuse to turn his back to the woman and walk away.

  “Yes, Rex?”

  “Sir, your wife just called to report a woman with a knife stuck in her back at Food City. I sent Mike over. I imagine they might still be there.”

  Tony found his wife in an aisle of Food City, surrounded by chaos. She was talking to Mike Ott and moved the shopping cart continuously to keep the twins occupied. “Theo, honey.”

  “No.” Theo glanced at him and shook her head vigorously, the movement flinging a golden curl over one eye. She swept it back into place. “Don’t ‘Theo, honey’ me like I am somehow responsible for this.”

  The force of her anger was a surprise, he guessed, even to herself. “What happened?”

  “I did not stab that woman. It is not my fault.”

  “I never thought it was.” Tony backed away a few inches, checking the woman on the stretcher, now being pushed toward the front of the store by the paramedics. They handed him the woman’s purse. He guessed something else was really upsetting Theo. “Do you know this woman?”

  “Not her name, but I’ve seen her around town a little, usually here shopping for food.” She watched Tony glance around, studying the faces of the curious. To her, in spite of the variety of shapes, ages, and colors, their expressions looked similar—curiosity mixed with shock and concern.

  “Sheriff, look at this.” One of the paramedics pointed to the knife in the woman’s back.

  Tony leaned forward and Theo did as well. He snapped a couple of pictures with his cell phone. The handle of the knife protruded from her, but the blade was buried all the way in to the guard.

  “Yikes.” Theo backed away. “I hadn’t really looked before.”

  “There is almost no sign of bleeding.” The lead paramedic squinted, looking up at Tony. “What’s really weird is the blood has already dried against the blade and it looks like it formed a seal, so it’s been in there for a while.”

  “It’s a good thing you’re leaving it in.” Tony waved them on their way.

  “I am. We’ll transport her to the clinic and let the doctors decide the next move.” The two paramedics quickly wheeled their patient toward the door. The sea of spectators parted to let them pass. Tony said, “We’ll check the store’s security recording but I’m guessing from your description, she arrived with the knife in place already.” He opened the woman’s purse and pulled out her ID, an expired Kentucky driver’s license and a handful of cash. “Either she’s driving around without a license or she lives close enough to walk here.”

  “That looks like a lot of cash.” Theo leaned closer. “Unless it’s all ones.”

  Tony flipped through it, counting. “Forty-eight dollars. One five and the rest is ones.” He made a notation in his notebook and then sealed the cash in an evidence bag he extracted from one of his pockets. “If the motive was robbery, it was unsuccessful. Unless she started out with more.”

  Tony sat in Ruby’s Café trying to concentrate on his notes when a couple of voices intruded. The booth he occupied was turning into his office away from his official office. He needed food, lots of food, to keep up with the demands of the day.

  “I don’t like to talk behind my boss’s back.” Tony couldn’t see the woman’s face. She sat with her back to him.

  “But?” Her male companion was middle-aged and looked bored. Tony thought he looked familiar but couldn’t place him.

  “Well, don’t you think it’s a bit peculiar for a married man to be shopping for engagement rings on the Internet?” The woman’s voice dropped. “I saw him.”

  “Couldn’t it just be a gift for his wife?”

  “His wife already wears a rock. What’s she going to do with another one, ’n’ besides,” the woman exhaled heavily. “I’ve heard him whispering to someone on the phone at the same time that I’ve been talking with his wife. They both work within ten feet of me.”

  Overhearing this conversation, Tony thought, “Not my business.” It wasn’t the first time Tony wished he could unhear something unpleasant about the people around him. Couldn’t they be more considerate?

  “Well, it’s not my business either, but I can’t help what I hear.” The woman’s voice was increasingly strident.

  “Twice in one day, Sheriff?” Pinkie Millsaps collected the menu. “What’ll it be?”

  Tony placed his food order with Pinkie, wondering if it would turn out to be a late lunch or early dinner. A bowl of hot stew and fluffy biscuits sounded like a good way to get warm again. So far today he’d dealt with accidents, a lost dog, frozen pipes, and several vehicles needing help starting. A stabbing in the grocery store. Not to mention several skeletons. The TBI didn’t need to come but Vince, who had helped Tony’s department before, wanted to come observe. Simple curiosity. He would arrive when he could.

  Most of the other incidents had been easily taken care of, or postponed, except the stabbing. The old couple with the frozen
pipes had neither the money to pay for a plumber nor the foresight to leave the water running just a bit. Warmer now and with water for washing and drinking, their situation had improved. He did add their names to Ruth Ann’s master list of people in the community who needed to be checked on when the weather turned against them, in case their son was away. It would be easier to drop by and check on them than to fix the problem when they were swamped.

  Mike Ott slid into the seat opposite him. Tony had thought his deputy looked tired when he’d seen him only minutes earlier in Food City; he looked even worse now. The new father worked long hours and, as Tony knew only too well, a new baby and a good night’s sleep were not generally words used in combination.

  Mike stared into Tony’s coffee cup before looking up, his lips curved into a smile. “Do you ever get used to having your family involved in episodes?”

  “Episodes? That’s an interesting word. What’s up?” Tony grinned. “That is, besides you, Ruby, and Mary Olivia?” Tony didn’t have the heart to tease the exhausted father by using the beautiful baby girl’s initials—MOO. The family had received a number of cow-themed gifts.

  His own initials, MAA for Marc Antony Abernathy, had garnered him any number of unwanted, unappreciated, and not terribly creative nicknames. It had not created in him the desire to inflict such things on other people, and certainly not on perfectly innocent babies.

  Mike’s red-rimmed eyes spoke volumes.

  “Look on the bright side.” Tony grinned. “At least Mary Olivia is not twins.” It hadn’t been that long since his two youngest children began sleeping through the night. For months the two baby girls had taken turns being awake, almost like they felt a duty to deprive their parents of as much sleep as possible.