Tony pressed the button next to the door and listened to an eight-note chime. A few moments passed before the front door opened. Queen Doreen stood behind the full-length glass of the storm door.
“Sheriff?” Doreen’s expression went from curious to concern as she spotted Wade, standing in a shadow. “Wade? Has something happened?”
Tony nodded. “Is Calvin at home?”
“Yes, do come in.” The mayor’s wife stepped back into the foyer, allowing them access. “You can hang your jackets there.” She pointed to a row of clothes hooks at the top of a finely crafted, cherry wood storage unit.
As Tony removed his jacket, and carefully wiped his snowy boots on the rug designated for the job, he realized he’d never seen Doreen without her trademark high heels. She was almost as short as Theo, and tonight she was dressed in a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants and pink bunny slippers. Without her city clothes, Doreen looked younger and more approachable than he’d ever seen her.
Calvin appeared around the corner, chewing something. “Sheriff?”
“I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner.” Tony’s stomach rumbled. He’d lost track of time. He had no idea when he’d last eaten anything. “I don’t have good news.”
“Do you want to sit?”
“Let’s do.” Tony doubted the mortician would faint at the idea his brother had died, but he wasn’t prepared to deliver bad news in a hallway.
Calvin led him and Wade to a small sitting area.
“In fact, I’m afraid I have bad news.” That was about as bald a statement as his own head.
Startled, Calvin glanced at his wife and back to Tony. “What is it?”
“Your brother, Franklin, was found dead earlier today.” Tony watched the mayor, carefully looking for his reaction. There wasn’t much to see.
“I see. Well . . .” Calvin blinked. “Thank you for telling me. Did he kill himself?”
The mayor displayed as little emotion as if he’d heard about a stranger’s death. Tony felt shock. Suicide was not usually the first suggestion of a family being notified of a death. “Why would you ask that?”
“I don’t really know. I guess I just wouldn’t expect Franklin to die of pneumonia or anything else us mere mortals would succumb to.” Calvin studied the floor for several long moments, then met Tony’s gaze. “I envied his courage. He jumped out of airplanes, led men into battle, and rode the Dragon’s Tail on a motorcycle, safely, in bad weather, in record time. Three things I would never consider doing.”
“He’s never seemed quite human,” Doreen added. “Do let us know when the service is scheduled.”
Moments later, Tony and Wade found themselves standing on the front porch and the door was closing behind them. It was the fastest departure after a death notification that Tony had ever experienced.
Wade blinked, apparently stunned. “Well, I guess we can go tell Carl Lee, now.”
Tony had nothing to say. He walked down the steps and climbed into the Blazer. In moments, he was headed back to town and on to break the news to the deceased’s son.
Maybe it was because Franklin’s brother had been so unimpressed by the man’s death, it wasn’t shocking when his son was not much more bereaved, at least not on the outside. To his credit, at least, Carl Lee asked what had happened.
“We aren’t at all sure. The reports are conflicted, but evidently he fell out of an airplane, or, more exactly, off the wing. He was not wearing a parachute.” Tony felt stupid just saying something so dumb.
“That’s absolutely, totally ridiculous,” Carl Lee murmured. “My father’s probably made more parachute jumps than any other man his age. He’s an ex-paratrooper; the man could pack a parachute in his sleep. Whatever else he did or didn’t do, he always took care of his equipment.” Carl Lee looked into Tony’s eyes. “Someone probably pushed him.”
Tony thought he heard the words, “I don’t blame them.” Wade was focused on his notepad and didn’t appear to have heard the statement. Imagination was not an asset in this case. “Anyone specific you’d nominate for the job?”
Carl Lee sighed and sank back into the sofa cushions. “I have no idea. We haven’t spent much time together in the past twenty-five years.”
“He lives over in the Asheville area?” Tony made a note of his question. He hated reading an answer later and not being able to recall the exact question.
“And you’re busy trying to come up with mileage. It’s about seventy-five miles, maybe a hundred if you take the scenic route.” Carl Lee rubbed the bridge of his nose. “My wife and I have gone over a few times since he retired and moved there.”
“Retired from . . . ?”
“Sorry, I assumed you knew. He went to West Point and made the Army his career. He moved to the Asheville area after he retired. His wife has property over there.”
Tony guessed “his wife” was not Carl Lee’s mother but needed to know for sure. “Your mother?”
“No. My mother died when I was ten. This is his third wife, Laura Dill Cashdollar. She’s got something very attractive to my father.”
“And that is?” Wade asked.
“Money. Lots of it.” Carl Lee sighed. “All my life, I wanted his approval. I guess I just quit trying.”
“Thanks, Carl Lee. We’ll go over to Asheville and break the news to his widow.” Tony and Wade were almost out the door when Carl Lee spoke again.
“I suppose I should tell you . . .” Carl Lee’s voice was barely audible, and his eyes had filled with tears. “I had breakfast with him this morning. In Asheville.”
Tony felt a wave of disappointment. He liked Carl Lee, and the idea the man had been keeping potentially important information from him did not sit well. “Why not tell me right away?”
Carl Lee lifted one hand and let it fall. “I’m not sure. Maybe it was the idea that I had to have seen him very close to the time he died. We weren’t close, but I didn’t wish him dead.”
“What about suicide? If you saw him such a short time before he died, what was his mood? Did he sound like he was maybe wrapping up loose ends, saying goodbye?”
“Not at all.” Carl Lee relaxed a bit. “He had his usual hearty breakfast. We talked a bit about him and his wife coming here for Thanksgiving, but he seemed to think it was unlikely. His wife is a very social woman and often throws big charity events, and he thought there was something planned for Thanksgiving as well. Given the status of our relationship, it was odd that he brought up seeing us again in the next ten years . . .” Carl Lee’s voice trailed to a stop.
Tony thought the sorrow in Carl Lee’s eyes was older than this most recent tragedy. “How long before today was the last time you saw him?” Even as irritated as his own mother made him, he couldn’t quite visualize seeing her only once a year. Especially since she only lived a mile from his house.
“He and Laura came through around last Christmas, dropped some presents off, but didn’t stay more than an hour.” Carl Lee did the math. “That’s about ten months ago.”
Tony considered the relationship. It probably wasn’t as unusual as it felt to him now that he lived so close to his mother. Not everyone had a parent and siblings popping in and out at will. Four and a half years earlier, when he and Theo were living in Chicago, their own visits with his mom had probably been separated by about six months. Theo’s parents had died when she was a baby and the “old people” who raised her, her grandparents, had seemed old enough to be her great-grandparents. They had died while Theo was still in college. She had no siblings and not many cousins, so family events were not at all like those he grew up with. “Did you sense any undercurrents in their marriage?”
“You mean like he feared for his life?” Carl Lee stared into his face.
Tony sat back in his seat. He had not been thinking along those lines, but he’d follow Carl Lee’s lead. “Not exactly fear, but anything he was disturbed about?”
“I did think maybe life with Laura was not perfect.” Carl Lee laughed softly at
his own statement. “But then, I would say no one’s life, married or single, is actually perfect.” He smiled at his wife. “My life is much happier since I married Jill, but still, it’s not perfect.”
Tony couldn’t argue with Carl Lee’s thinking. His own life was not perfect. He had a wonderful wife and children, but none of them was perfect. Nor was he. Anyone who claimed to have a perfect life, or a perfect family, was probably dangerously delusional. “But your father’s life?”
“My father’s marriage track record is not without problems. He divorced his second wife, Joyce, after five years. I was never quite sure why he married her, and I was a bit surprised it lasted as long as it did.” Carl Lee studied his long fingers. “I always sort of believed he married her so I’d have a mother, or at least a live-in housekeeper when I was a teenager. No one ever said anything that might verify or refute my idea.”
Tony was curious, not suspicious. “Where does Joyce live now?”
A ray of light illuminated Carl Lee’s bright blue eyes. “North Carolina, not far from Asheville. She moved there after my dad married Laura. Their last home together was in Virginia, not far from Washington, D.C.”
“She followed him.” It wasn’t a question. Tony did a mental distance calculation; it was neither close nor terribly far between Asheville and Washington D.C. “Do you know how Laura, wife number three, and your father, first met?”
“I believe it was at some function in D.C. My father attended any number of parties given for highly placed politicians and diplomats.” He squeezed his big hands together, making the bones in his long fingers gleam through the skin. “Those kinds of events often attract people with money as well as people who want to meet the rich.”
Tony jotted down some notes, including Carl Lee’s appearance and attitude. “Do you suppose your father has a girlfriend, or is maybe cheating on wife number three?”
“No. I don’t think so. I think he found what he wanted with Laura. Money and prestige.” Carl Lee’s voice lowered. “In truth, Laura’s all right, and I liked Joyce well enough. I do think she deserved better than she got.”
“You do have their current addresses?”
“Yes, I’ll get both of them for you. Anything else?”
Tony checked his list of things he’d wanted to ask. “Did you meet your father somewhere for breakfast or did he pick you up?”
Again, Carl Lee seemed surprised by the question. “That was odd. He called and asked me to pick him up a few miles from town, where he’d parked his car. After we ate, he had me drop him back at the car.” He seemed really tired and not exactly focused but nothing I could explain.
Tony wondered if the car had been located. He made a note to himself to check on that. “Can you tell me where the car was?”
“From my motel, to the car.” Carl Lee carefully drew him a little map. “I don’t know the names of any of the roads.” He put an X at one intersection. “There was a stoplight here.”
CHAPTER NINE
Tony thought the drive over the mountains was a dreadful experience. Not only because he was exhausted and certainly not because Wade was a poor driver, but it was dark, snowy, and the roads were slick. The storm dumping this moisture had started hundreds of miles to the east and was relentless in its march inland.
“I hope Mrs. Cashdollar’s there,” Tony murmured to Wade. “If we make this trip for nothing . . .” He didn’t finish his thought.
Wade steered the patrol car around a clump of slower vehicles. “It won’t be for nothing.”
Tony was only half listening. His eyes were trained on the road, but his brain was toying with the man’s death. “Orvan and Walter heard a banshee in the morning.”
“Or maybe someone screaming as he fell,” Wade added. “A man like that, a long time paratrooper, jumping without a parachute. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“No. It doesn’t.” Tony had known a few avid skydivers. Except for their enjoyment in leaping out of perfectly sound airplanes, they were quite normal. They took care of their equipment, and checked and double-checked every part. Their dead man was not wearing a parachute or a harness. He was holding a fishing pole. Totally unnecessary equipment for skydiving, and there was no fishing spot for miles. Tony didn’t like the peculiar circumstances. If he’d been in the plane for the purpose of committing suicide, why take the pole? If he was pushed, why didn’t he drop the pole and fight for his life? The only other possibility was he accidentally fell out of the plane. Tony thought that idea was dumber than jumping out of an airplane holding a fishing pole. For the death to be an accident, Franklin would have had to unfasten his seat belt and grab his fishing pole, just as the pilot rolled the airplane. Ludicrous.
Tony’s cell phone rang, jolting him out of his bizarre contemplation and the various facts they couldn’t match up. The caller was from North Carolina, the local sheriff’s office. “Sheriff Abernathy? I’m Sergeant Dupont. My boss tells me I’ll be your guide and liaison while you’re over here. Anything I can prepare while I’m waiting?”
“Thank you. That’s assuming we make it over the mountains,” Tony said. “This is quite a storm.”
“Yessir, it is at least that. I don’t envy the patrols tonight. They may set a new record for accidents.” Dupont cleared his throat. “In the meantime, I have determined that Mrs. Franklin Cashdollar is at home this evening.”
Tony didn’t deny his relief. “Unless she’s crazy, she’ll still be there when we arrive. I’d guess we’re about a half hour away.”
“Roger that. Where should we meet?”
“How far away is your office from her home?” Tony had checked the map but without a sense of the space, it hadn’t meant much. “If it’s relatively close, we’ll just meet in your office.”
“Yes, it’s only a few miles. I’ll wait for you there.”
The rest of the journey was slow but uneventful.
To keep each other awake, Tony and Wade got involved in relaying news about their extended families. Tony learned that Wade’s sister, Karen, a night dispatcher for his department, was taking an online language class. She was learning Italian and Wade claimed it was driving their mother crazy. Karen would practice her new phrases on Mom without translating.
“Maybe I should learn a few Italian words to mess with Karen,” Tony said. “Speaking of driving someone crazy, my brother Gus and my sister-in-law, Catherine, did you know she grew up in the Asheville area?” Wade nodded and Tony laughed. “That’s not the crazy part. You probably haven’t heard but my whole family is going nuts because they are hoarding their little girl.”
Wade looked startled. “Not even your mom has seen her?”
“Nope.” Tony grinned. “I’m guessing she’ll get my brother Tiberius and sister Calpurnia to join her in an assault on their privacy. Maybe I’ll get called to come rescue the baby.”
“Your mom is not going to behave.” Wade peered through the snow. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she and your aunt Martha aren’t on their way, in this blizzard, for an impromptu visit with Caesar Augustus and Catherine.”
Tony didn’t refute anything but said, “I see lights ahead.”
Wade sighed with relief. “Is Gus going with your mom’s love of old Rome in the name game?”
“I sincerely hope not.” Tony thought being named Marc Antony had warped him for life.
Tony was relieved to get inside the sheriff’s office. Driving into the blowing snow, the headlights had reflected off the flakes and created a solid white panorama. Their last few miles had been snail-like. Inside the sheriff’s department building, after being in black and white hell, the lights seemed too bright and the temperature too warm.
It was almost ten thirty at night. If Mrs. Cashdollar was in bed, Tony would be regretful and apologetic, but it would not be the first time he had needed to awaken people in the night to deliver bad news. It made the whole awful process even worse. “I do hope Mrs. Cashdollar is still awake.”
Wade and their escort
nodded. Their faces reflected his own emotions.
The three men trooped out to the parking lot. Dupont indicated his vehicle. “Y’all want to ride with me? There’s not much point in taking two cars, or are you heading right back over the mountain tonight?”
“One car.” Tony said, “We’ll spend the night somewhere over here. Depending on what Mrs. Cashdollar has to tell us, we might hang around and ask a few questions tomorrow morning. At any rate, I’m not anxious to travel that road again tonight. It’s been a long enough day.” As understatements went, it was masterful.
Silhouetted against the dark sky, with snow swirling around the decorative streetlights of the expensive neighborhood, Tony thought the Cashdollar house resembled a European castle. It was at least three stories high and had honest to goodness turrets. He couldn’t tell in the dark if the home was surrounded by a moat.
Seated in the back seat of Sergeant Dupont’s car, Wade made an admiring whistle. “That’s a house? Wow, do you suppose Queen Doreen’s seen this? It makes the mayor’s house look pretty puny.”
Tony nodded. He didn’t mention that his sister-in-law, Gus’s wife, grew up in this same exclusive neighborhood.
Dupont laughed. “We do have a few estates, not houses, around here that seem larger than life. Let’s just say the wife and I are not one of their neighbors. And what’s really pitiful is my yearly salary is probably less than their gardener’s.” He turned to the right and headed up a long driveway and eventually parked in a small parking lot. There were no other vehicles in sight.
The three of them climbed out, bracing against the wind, preparing for their condolence call. Tony checked his watch. It was now more than a little past ten thirty, almost eleven. Light shining from several windows gave him hope that Mrs. Cash-dollar was still up.
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