But Not Forbidden: A Clint Wolf Novel (Clint Wolf Mystery Series Book 6)

by BJ Bourg

  “If you don’t mind,” I said, “I’d like to finish this conversation at the office, where we won’t have any interruptions.”

  “Interruptions?” Shelly cocked her head to the side. “What interruptions?”

  “Well, we don’t want Patricia and Junior coming back over here, now do we?”

  Shelly shook her head and reached for her purse, which was hanging from the back of a nearby chair. “I’d like you to tell them they’re not welcome back on my property.”

  “Your property here?”

  She shook her head. “Not any of it. After the way Patricia looked at me, I don’t want her living at the camp anymore. I’d like you to evict her.”

  I nodded slowly. “Let’s just go to my office where we can sit down and sort this all out.”

  Shelly headed for the door when I stopped her.

  “And, while we’re at it, why don’t you bring the will?”

  CHAPTER 32

  Once Shelly and I were seated in an interview room, I asked if I could see the will that Chester had signed. She nodded and pulled it from an envelope in her purse. She handled the envelope like it was a bomb and carefully slid it across the desktop.

  Exercising the same level of care and caution, I eased the envelope open and removed a folded sheet of paper from inside. Pushing the envelope aside, I unfolded the page and studied it. It was signed and dated two weeks ago, on Sunday, March 26th, and it was completely handwritten. The writing was rough and difficult to read because of the many misspelled words and poorly formed letters, but it was clear that Chester was leaving everything he owned to Shelly. I turned over the will, which is known in Louisiana law as an olographic testament, and checked the back of the page. Nothing.

  “So, the kids get nothing?”

  Shelly frowned. “It’s sad, really, but they didn’t support his vision for the property. While he loved coming to town and mingling with the townspeople, his children wanted nothing to do with it. They’d rather hang out in the swamps and live the life of a recluse.”

  I was thoughtful as I studied the will. There were no witness signatures, but they weren’t required, so it didn’t mean the will was invalid. However, I was curious to know who witnessed the creation of the will, so I asked Shelly.

  “He and I were alone at my apartment when he wrote it.”

  “What prompted Chester to write a will at this stage of his life?” I asked. “His kids are all grown and, according to his children, there have been no major events to cause him to reflect upon his death. I mean, I could understand if he had a near death experience, but he’s just been rolling along enjoying life.”

  “I don’t know what prompted him to write the will.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about the night he wrote it?”

  “Well, it was a Sunday night, that much I remember. He had come to town and spent the weekend with me. He told me during the visit that his kids didn’t approve of our relationship. He said they accused me of marrying him just to get my hands on his property, so he told me he would take that option off the table.”

  I scowled. “It seems to me the only way to take that option off the table was to make you sign a prenuptial agreement.”

  Shelly smiled. “Chester had a knack for doing things in his own way. I called it the Chest-way. By creating this will leaving everything to me, he was showing his kids I already had control of the property, so that was not the reason I was marrying him. Since I already had ownership of everything, the only other reason I would marry him would be for love.”

  It was some twisted logic, but who was I to judge what an older man would do for the love of a younger woman? Personally, I’d always dated close to my own age, but I knew some people liked dating those who were older or younger than they were. I didn’t care unless it violated the law, and there was nothing wrong with what Chester and Shelly were doing.

  I pulled out my cell phone. “Mind if I take a picture of this?”

  “Knock yourself out.” Shelly leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. “I know why Patricia and Junior were at my house, but I’m hoping you were there to tell me you caught the person who killed my Chester.”

  “We have some suspects, but nothing solid at the moment.” I pulled out my notepad and sat there with my pen poised over the top page, which was blank. “We’re currently getting with everyone to see when they last saw Chester and to get a good timeline of everyone’s activities. Can you start with the last time you saw Chester?”

  “Sure, it was Saturday morning. I stopped by the fair at around eight to see him before heading out of town with my best friend. We didn’t get back until late last night. I texted with him until around lunchtime on Saturday. After that, I couldn’t get in touch with him. I’d even tried calling him several times, but he never answered his phone.”

  “Wait a minute…Chester’s got a phone?”

  Shelly nodded. “It’s actually a smart phone, but he made it dumb, because all he did was text and talk with it.”

  I drummed my pen on the desk. We hadn’t recovered a cell phone from Chester’s pockets, the portable toilet, or his boat. “Do you know his number?”

  “Of course I know his number. What kind of question is that?”

  I wasn’t embarrassed to acknowledge I didn’t know many phone numbers anymore. “Everyone’s programmed into my contacts, so I never dial the number,” I explained. “I figured it might be the same for you.”

  She gave me his number and I made a note to check with the portable toilet company to see if they’d found a phone when they cleaned out the waste tank from where it was being stored at the sheriff’s office. It was the only place I hadn’t checked. Even if I knew it was down there, I would’ve passed on going in to retrieve it—I would’ve been happier taking a bullet to the kneecap.

  I turned back to the interview and asked Shelly what she did when she couldn’t get in touch with Chester.

  “It wasn’t unusual for him to let the battery die on his phone,” Shelly said, “so I wasn’t too worried. He knew I was going to be out of town until yesterday and we had made plans for him to meet me at my house last night. When he didn’t show I started making calls. I finally got in touch with one of the girls I knew who traveled with the fair. She told me she’d heard a worker had died at the fair. I asked her to find out who it was and she told me she would do so and call me back.” Shelly paused to wipe a tear from her eye. “It was the longest ten minutes of my life.”

  I studied her closely. While the tear was real, I wondered if she’d refrained from blinking to make her eyes water. She didn’t seem terribly upset over Chester’s murder, and I wondered if it was because she had a hand in it or if she had only been with him for his property and the murderer had inadvertently handed her everything Chester owned.

  “Please, go on…”

  After taking a labored breath, Shelly explained how she’d received word that it was Chester who had died. “First thing this morning, I hauled ass to the coroner’s office to make arrangements for his funeral.”

  “What about his family?” I asked. “Did you think about consulting with them?”

  “I knew they wouldn’t know what was best for him, so I thought I’d make all the arrangements and then let them know what we were doing.” She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “If I’m the only person mentioned in his will, don’t I have rights to his body?”

  I glanced down at the will. “I don’t see any mention of you having control of his body after he’s dead.”

  “That just doesn’t seem right. I’ve been his fiancée for years and I should have the final say on what happens to him. His kids don’t care about him.”

  “Okay, well, let’s get back to your activities over the weekend.” I glanced over my notes. “You said you and your friend went out of town. Where’d y’all go?”

  “We went to Biloxi for the weekend. We stayed at a casino hotel and we spent most of the time playing the poker ma
chines. I won five hundred dollars.”

  “Which hotel did y’all stay in?”

  “The Hard Rock. We were on the Billy Idol floor.”

  “I’ll need your friend’s name and number to verify your alibi.”

  “My alibi? Are you saying I’m a suspect?”

  “Everyone’s a suspect until I eliminate them.” I smiled, but she didn’t seem reassured. I glanced at the time on my phone. I’d hoped Susan would have the results from Terry’s rifle by now, but she hadn’t called. I turned my attention back to Shelly. “That friend’s name and number, please?”

  She gave it to me—it was a young woman named Tammy—and then I asked her if she remembered the last time she’d borrowed her dad’s truck.

  “I don’t really remember. Two weeks ago, maybe? I had asked him to borrow it this weekend to go to Biloxi, because his truck is more reliable than my car, but he said he needed it to haul his boat to the launch. I think he spent the weekend at the camp.”

  “Speaking of your dad,” I began slowly, “does he know about Chester?”

  Shelly’s face reddened. “No, and I’d like it to remain that way.”

  “What about your mom or your brother?”

  She shook her head. “No one knows.”

  “Why haven’t you told them?”

  “They wouldn’t understand.”

  “What wouldn’t they understand?”

  “How I could love a man who was so much older than me. They’re old fashioned when it comes to dating and marriage. My dad would stroke out if he knew how old Chester was and that I was dating him. Seriously, I don’t want him to find out about this.”

  “What do you think he’d do if he found out about you and Chester?”

  “I don’t know…” Shelly’s eyes slowly narrowed. “You don’t think my dad did this, do you? He would never!”

  “What if he found out and got mad at Chester for taking advantage of you?”

  “Chester didn’t take advantage of me—” Shelly said it with such confidence that I half expected her to say she was the one taking advantage of him, but she stopped short.

  “Well, do you think your dad would go after Chester if he found out about y’all?”

  “Maybe to beat him up, but not to kill him.”

  “What if he went to beat him up and things got out of hand?”

  “No way. My dad’s not a killer.”

  “What about you? Could you kill someone?”

  “No.”

  “Not even if they were trying to kill you?”

  “Maybe then, but only if it was to protect my own life.”

  “Are you sure you were in Biloxi?”

  “Positive.”

  “What if I go to the casino and hotel and request footage from their surveillance cameras?”

  “Then you’ll know I was there all weekend and I had nothing to do with my fiancée’s murder.”

  “Does your brother know about you and Chester?”

  “No.”

  “What about Tammy?”

  She nodded. “Tammy knows everything about me. We’ve been friends since the second grade.”

  “How close are y’all?”

  “We’d do anything for each other.”

  “Does that include murder?”

  Shelly’s eyes narrowed. “No, it does not.”

  “Shelly”—I leaned closer to her, studying her eyes closely—“did you kill Chester Raymond?”

  “No, I did not.”

  “Do you know who did?”

  “No, I do not.”

  CHAPTER 33

  I stepped out of the interview room, leaving Shelly Smith alone, and called Susan from my cell phone. “Well?” I asked when she answered. “Anything on the rifle?”

  “Tracy wasn’t in. Apparently, the whole team got called to investigate a major shooting, so I left the rifle with the intake officer.”

  I wasn’t happy about the news, but I was suddenly distracted by the tone of her voice. She sounded giddy happy. “What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “You sound different…happier than usual.”

  “I’m just very excited about us.” Her voice was low and sensual. “I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us. Even if our wedding plans are disrupted by this case, it’ll be fine. It’s only one day out of the rest of my life that I’ll get to spend with you. I love you.”

  I smiled broadly. If anyone would’ve seen me right at that moment, they would’ve thought I’d just won the lottery. In a way, I had won the lottery…the lottery of life.

  I was still beaming when we hung up and I returned to the interview room. With no concrete reason to hold Shelly, I told her she was free to leave.

  “But what about my step-children? What if they come after me?”

  “We’ll make regular passes by your house.” I glanced at the envelope that contained the will, pointed to it. “Do you mind if I hold on to that for a bit?”

  She hesitated. “Will I get it back?”

  “Sure, just as soon as we’re done with the investigation. Besides, I think it’ll be safer in our evidence locker than at your house. I imagine Patricia will be looking for it.”

  Shelly’s eyes widened and she nodded. “You’re right! She wasn’t happy about it and I’m sure that’s why she was at my house earlier.”

  Once I secured the will in a locker, I drove Shelly home and then headed for the boat launch. When I pulled into the parking lot I saw an old gray car parked near a large boat. The boat was topped with a canopy to provide its occupants with shade from the sun. There were three people in the boat, but I only recognized Patricia and Junior. The third was an older gentleman, and I figured he owned the gray car, which was no doubt the same vehicle that had given Patricia a ride to the coroner’s office.

  I approached the trio and waved a greeting. They stood and exited the boat to meet me near a large pine tree. Patricia introduced the elderly man as her grandfather, Alf Aguillard. I shook the man’s hand and patted his shoulder.

  “So, I guess they told you about your daughter?” I asked.

  “They did.” The wrinkles in his face were deep and he looked tired, but there was a glint of fire burning in his eyes. “I know Chester and I had our issues, but I believe them when they tell me how much he loved Hilda. It’s really nice to finally be reunited with my grandkids, but these are troubling times and I want to help them get justice for their dad.”

  “Good, we can use all the help we can get.”

  “Shelly killed Pops,” Junior said. “She’s been wanting to turn our land into some kind of tourist thing for years. She calls it a ‘tourist action’ or something.”

  “Tourist attraction,” Patricia corrected. “He’s right—Shelly’s been trying to convince our father to give boat tours to the Forbidden Swamps. She had plans to sell off some of the land to raise money to build a restaurant on the water. She’s not the first woman to waltz in with big plans for our land, but Father never even considered any of it. Our land is the only thing we have and he was determined to keep it in the family.”

  “So, Shelly isn’t the first woman your dad dated after your mom died?”

  Patricia shook her head. “Mother suspected him of cheating on her with different women in town before she died, but she could never prove it. After she died, he grieved for a time, but then he started seeing these women from town openly. He would sometimes bring them back home with him, but they never stayed for more than a week or two.”

  I glanced at Alf while she talked. His fists were clenched and his jaw was set. I wanted to ask if he still thought Chester loved his daughter, but didn’t.

  “I really didn’t think Father was entertaining Shelly’s plans for our homestead,” Patricia continued, “because he never really showed support for them. He would just let her babble on and he wouldn’t say anything in agreement.”

  “Pops never said much anyway,” Junior said. “He used to say if you tol
d everyone everything you knew they would know more than you.”

  “Yeah, but if he thought her ideas were good for the family, he would’ve said something.” Patricia wiped some sweat from her face. “That’s why I was so surprised to hear about the will. He knew what she wanted to do with our land, so if he left everything to her in the will, that means he was in agreement.”

  “I don’t believe he wrote a will and left everything to her,” Junior said. “I think it’s false. I don’t think he would give away our land. I mean, he would know we’d have nowhere to live if she owned everything. Pops knew she didn’t care too much for us. He wouldn’t do that to us.”

  “But wait a minute,” Alf said, “that land doesn’t belong to Shelly, because Chester died before they could get married. It’s not community property yet, right?”

  “It’s not about community property,” I said. “He can leave his property to whomever he wants.” I crossed my arms and leaned back against the tree. A breeze was blowing and it helped to keep us a little cooler in the shade. “Have either of you ever filled out any paperwork with your dad relating to the property? Are either of you on the property deed?”

  Patricia and Junior shook their heads in unison.

  “Did your dad talk about making Shelly sign a prenuptial agreement before the wedding?”

  “No,” Patricia said. “And do you know how I know she was using him? She told him she was pregnant and then she proposed to him—all at the same time. Father was raised in a traditional way and she knew it. She heard him tell Junior and Dickie that if they ever got a girl pregnant, they would have to marry her, so they shouldn’t sleep with any woman they weren’t willing to marry—”

  “Wait, is Shelly pregnant?” I asked, surprised.

  “Nope,” Patricia said. “That’s how I know she’s using him, because it was a lie. If she really loved him and he thought he loved her, she wouldn’t have to trap him with a baby.”

  “But how do you know she isn’t?”

  “It’s been three months and her stomach is flatter than mine.”