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Murder Wins the Game

Page 11

by Maddie Cochere


  “Go up and look for yourself,” she said and walked away.

  She didn’t have to be so rude. I gave her twenty dollars. I didn’t need to give her anything.

  “Are these things guaranteed to work?” the man asked. He was now waving the snake in my face.

  “Of course they’re not guaranteed. They’re used men’s ties that are stuffed with fluffy white stuff. A strong wind under your door will probably blow it across the room.”

  The man shook his head and dropped the snake onto the table. “What side of the bed did you get up on?” He pointed behind me. “You’re losing inventory.”

  I turned in time to see three boys about Keith’s age run off with all the remaining bags of cookies.

  “Hey!” I yelled after them. “I’m calling the police.”

  I went back around to my side of the tables and set the phone under my chair. The man watched me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I got up on the wrong side of the bed. Every day this week has been the wrong side of the bed, and this is why I don’t work retail. I hate selling and dealing with the public.”

  He smiled. He had a nice smile. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  I had no idea where he was going or why he would be right back, but I didn’t care. Traffic picked up again, and it was all I could do to keep up with sales, put new inventory on the tables, and watch for shoplifters.

  I didn’t notice right away that the man had come back. Behind him were the three boys who had stolen the cookies.

  When there was a lull, the boys put the cookies back on the table. One of the boys handed six dollars to me and said, “For the ones we ate. We’re sorry we stole your cookies, and we promise we’ll never steal anything again if you don’t press charges against us.”

  The other two boys nodded their heads vigorously. One boy had tears in his eyes.

  I shrugged my shoulders. I wasn’t that upset about it. I viewed the cookie theft more as a prank than boys embarking on a criminal career. “Ok,” I said nonchalantly. “I won’t press charges.”

  The boys took off running as if someone had lit a firecracker under them.

  “How did you get them to bring the cookies back?” I asked the man.

  He flashed his police badge and held out his hand to shake mine. “Clay Carpenter. Patterson Police. When you told the boys you were going to call the police, I thought it was a good idea to put a scare in them while they’re young. I suspect none of them will ever steal anything again.”

  I smiled for the first time today. Clay Carpenter was attractive and seemed like a nice guy. If things were going to go south with Glenn, I might want to keep my options open. “You’re probably right,” I said. “I’m a private investigator in Buxley. I didn’t think to use my position to influence them.”

  His smile faded. “Buxley? Are you familiar with those murders? One of them just happened yesterday. I sure wouldn’t want to be on that force. That sergeant’s in way over his head, and if he doesn’t call in outside help soon, the Munson murder will never be solved. Everyone knows his son killed him, but Rorski still hasn’t arrested him. It doesn’t help that they’re short handed due to that knucklehead pulling his gun on some kids.”

  “Oh, he’s a knucklehead all right,” I said.

  Clay’s smile returned. “What’s your name? Maybe we can get together for a drink one night. We’ll swap war stories.”

  I unlocked my truck, set my red phone in the back, and pulled one of my business cards out of my bag. I handed it to him. “I’m Jo Ravens.”

  He looked incredulous. “You’re Jo Ravens? The Jo Ravens?” He laughed. “Holy moly! This is great. Wait until I tell the guys I ran into you.”

  Clay Carpenter wasn’t looking so great right now. I had hoped the guys on the Patterson police force had stopped talking about my unfortunate arrest last year. Apparently not.

  I snatched my card from his hands. “For your information, Mr. Wise Guy, I didn’t break in anywhere, and that officer had no right to arrest me. And furthermore, that knucklehead is my boyfriend, and I’m sure he’s more of a police officer than you could ever hope to be. So, just booger off.”

  He couldn’t stop smiling. “You mean bugger off.”

  “No, I don’t swear, so you can booger off. Thanks for getting my cookies back.”

  I turned my back to him.

  When I turned around again, he was walking away. Pepper passed him as she came speed walking down the dirt aisle to our space. Her short blond hair wasn’t as spiky as when we first arrived, and she was sweating profusely.

  “Did we sell a lot? Did I miss anything?”

  We sat down in our chairs behind the center table. “You didn’t miss a thing,” I said.

  For the next few hours, we were slammed. When Pepper said there could be as many as fifty thousand people come through the farmer’s market, she wasn’t kidding. There were easily enough people in the field to fill a football stadium or two.

  At two-thirty, we had another lull. The snakes and the cookies were sold out. Pepper placed signs on the tables indicating everything was now fifty percent off.

  She sat back down beside me.

  Out of the blue, I said, “I think Mama killed Dave Jackson.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said with a laugh. “Why would Mama kill Dave?”

  “Because she’s furious with him that he’s still buying lottery tickets after he already won two million dollars. I saw her leaving his house the day he was murdered. I think she snapped and killed him.”

  Pepper was speechless. I stood from my chair. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

  I heard her protesting behind me. I wasn’t sure if she was upset I was leaving her alone or because I thought Mama capable of murder. I’d find out when I got back.

  I had no intention of rushing. I took my time and looked at what other vendors were selling as I made the long trek to the main building. There was a little bit of everything, from flea market and garage sale items, to new goods. The amount of fresh produce was staggering. If I wasn’t helping Pepper, I would have enjoyed browsing and shopping.

  Finally in the large building, I didn’t look for the restrooms right away. Instead, I walked up and down the aisles and looked for my chair. I discovered the vendors with large items were at the back of the building.

  I didn’t see anyone with vintage telephones, but one vendor, a young guy who appeared to be in his twenties, had several cell phones and three answering machines like the one stolen from my home. He was selling them for a dollar each, so I picked up the one with a tape for recording a message already in it.

  The guy saw me check the tape and said, “I forgot to take the tape out of that one.” He reached to take the machine from me.

  “I want the tape,” I said. “How much more?”

  “Twenty dollars,” he said.

  My mouth dropped open. “No way.”

  “You can’t buy them anymore. The machines are obsolete. If you want the tape, it’ll be twenty one dollars total.”

  I muttered something about highway robbery under my breath and put the machine back on the table. He picked it up and opened the slot to take out the small cassette.

  “Wait,” I said. “I’ll take it.”

  I didn’t want the hassle of trying to find a tape somewhere, and I could write the entire amount off on my business expenses.

  “Suit yourself,” he said and took the money from my hands.

  I glanced around and asked, “Have you noticed if anyone sold a beige overstuffed chair with a refrigerator in the side?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t pay attention to what the other guys are selling. It’s all I can do to keep an eye on my own stuff.” He walked away from me to help a woman who had opened one of his refrigerators but quickly turned around when another customer began looking at his cell phones. He definitely needed another hand or two.

  I had a burst of sympathy for Pepper being alone
with the crowd. I rushed to the restroom.

  When I was washing my hands, a voice called out, “Well, look who’s here. Mr. Munson’s killer. And I know you murdered Dave Jackson, too. I told that nice Sergeant Rorski you were at his house the day he was murdered. They’ll put two and two together soon enough.”

  I turned around and saw Richard Munson’s maid standing inside the doorway. Several people in the restroom scurried out. Others stood and stared. One girl held up her cell phone. I assumed she was ready to record any altercation between the woman and me. Her actions caused me to hold my tongue. I dried my hands, and with a calmness that belied my inner turmoil, I walked out of the restroom, out of the large building, and into the bright sunshine.

  It wasn’t that I was concerned that anyone who heard Richard’s maid would believe her, or that she was trying to convince Sergeant Rorski that I had murdered two people. It was the vehemence of her accusation that shook me.

  I walked on rubbery legs as I headed back to Pepper’s space. I was suddenly unbearably tired. The answering machine in my arms felt like it weighed a ton. Whether she wanted to or not, I was packing her up, and we were leaving.

  When I couldn’t find her space, I nearly threw a tantrum in front of a man who was yelling in my face that he had fresh fruits and vegetables. I could see he had produce for sale. He didn’t have to yell it at me.

  I finally had the forethought to hit the door alarm on my truck. I cut over three aisles, down five spaces, and found Pepper putting the last of her items in boxes.

  “Took you long enough, and your truck horn scared the snot out of me,” she said.

  I didn’t say anything. I unlocked the truck and started loading her boxes in the back. From what I could tell, she had sold nearly everything she made and at least half of the garage sale items.

  We loaded the tables, and I happily, yet without feeling any happiness, drove out of the field. It was going to be a long ride home.

  Pepper broke the silence half an hour later.

  “Mama didn’t kill Dave Jackson,” she said.

  I shrugged my shoulders. Mama was a conversation I didn’t want to have right now.

  “She didn’t, Jo,” Pepper insisted. “I called her and asked her.”

  I rolled my eyes so hard, it felt like I pulled muscles at the back of my head.

  “Do you think she would tell you if she did?” I asked.

  “Yes. Yes, I do. She said she went there, but he wasn’t home. She said she walked up onto his porch and knocked on the front door. When he didn’t answer, she left. End of story.”

  She folded her arms across her chest.

  In my heart of hearts, I didn’t believe Mama killed Dave, but she was completely out of control earlier this week, and I couldn’t get the thought out of my head that if she could slap Lou on the head at the liquor store, she could crack Dave in the head with a lead pipe in his kitchen.

  We lapsed into silence again, but it didn’t last long. Pepper was too upset.

  “You know, everything isn’t always about you, Jo,” she said. “Just because Glenn’s mad at you, and things aren’t going well with your job, you don’t have to take it out on everyone else. You knew how much this meant to me today. I worked hard to make this extra money for my family, and I didn’t need you making it even harder. Accusing Mama of murder is the last straw. You’re always mad at her about something. Until you can treat family like you’re supposed to, you’re not welcome at my house.”

  Geez. What happened to all that talk about how great I was at my job and how Glenn loved me and we’d work things out? I almost said something snarky to her, but a small voice in the back of my mind encouraged me to keep quiet. Pepper was serious, and any attempt to smooth things over now would sound hollow and wouldn’t be well received by her.

  I unloaded her and her things in her driveway and went home without another word said between us. Pepper hadn’t been this mad at me since we were kids.

  I was too tired to think about how much damage I might have done to our relationship. All I cared about right now was taking a nap before I had to get ready for Jackie’s dinner. I didn’t even bother going upstairs. I flopped onto the sofa and dropped off to sleep almost as soon as my head hit the armrest.

  Someone banging on my front door a few minutes later roused me. I half expected it to be Pepper. I knew she would be restless until we had this resolved between us. I just wished she didn’t want to resolve it so soon.

  I opened the door to a drop-dead gorgeous Jackie on my doorstep. Her red hair flowed below her shoulders in waves, which framed her exposed cleavage in an incredibly sexy way in a perfect little black dress.

  Her mouth dropped open. “Jo! You’re not ready. Aren’t you coming?”

  I was bewildered beyond measure. I had just closed my eyes. How could Jackie be here already?

  “What time is it? Yes, of course, I’m going. I must have fallen asleep.”

  She was upset. “I can’t wait for you to get ready. If you make it, I’ll see you there.” She turned with a huff and marched on stilettos to her car.

  I called out after her, “I’ll be there.”

  I had never felt so defeated and alone in my life. Even when I went through my divorce, I had family and friends for support. In less than a week, I had alienated everyone I loved. Everyone except Hank, and that was only because he and I hadn’t crossed paths yet this week.

  I ran – literally ran – to the shower. There was no time to wash my hair. I wrapped a towel around my head, jumped into the shower, and washed off the grime from the farmer’s market. I towel dried while I searched my closet for something to wear.

  I slipped on a navy blue dress with thin orange lines creating an appealing pattern throughout the dress. It didn’t fit! The dress was too tight across my waist and bunched under my armpits. I had to have gained at least five pounds this week for the dress to fit so poorly.

  If this dress didn’t fit, I knew I had nothing appropriate to wear. I searched through the fat clothes at the back of the closet. I had given all the dresses to the Goodwill months ago. The only option left was a pair of black slacks and a white blouse. I would look like part of the wait staff.

  I looked myself over again in the mirror. Jackie’s legs had looked gorgeous in her high heels. Mine were hidden behind loose pant legs, and I had no choice but to wear a pair of black flats. I couldn’t have felt any less attractive.

  After brushing my hair and making an attempt at a smattering of makeup, I rushed out the door. The dinner started at seven o’clock. It was seven fifteen when I pulled out of my driveway.

  Chapter Nine

  Glenn’s car was in my driveway when I arrived home at eleven o’clock.

  My heart was heavy as I opened the front door. I didn’t know what to expect, but I certainly didn’t expect to find him on my sofa in boxers, a t-shirt, and white socks. His feet were on the coffee table, and as evidenced by the box beside his feet, he had eaten nearly an entire pizza.

  “I saved some for you,” he said. His voice didn’t reflect any emotion.

  “I’m not hungry.” I sat on the sofa next to him but not too close. I didn’t want to appear friendly if he was going to be combative.

  He looked over and asked, “Are we fighting?”

  I sighed. I didn’t want to fight with him, but I was afraid anything I might say would trigger his anger yet again.

  “You tell me. You were the one who got mad first, because I didn’t want you to bring lasagna over.”

  “That’s not why I was mad. I wasn’t even really mad. You were rude. You could have said you were busy without sounding like you didn’t give a shit about me.”

  It was surprising to hear him swear.

  “I know,” I said contritely. “I tried to find you to tell you I was sorry, but nothing’s gone right this week.”

  He shook his head. “Two more bodies. How do you do it?”

  I couldn’t help smiling a little. “I don’t know. It�
��s completely freaky. I’m beginning to think it has something to do with my lot in life.”

  “I looked over your whiteboard. We should probably talk. Now that I’m officially off the force, we can talk about the murders.”

  My eyes popped open. “Officially off the force? Did they fire you?”

  “No, but my suspension meant surrendering my badge and gun. Until I’m cleared and get them back, I have no capacity as an officer. I’m not even on desk duty.”

  “I’m sorry, Glenn. I probably shouldn’t have called about those kids. I should have checked it out myself.”

  “No. You did the right thing. They were trespassing. And when I identified myself as a police officer, and they didn’t come out, I had a right to draw my weapon. I had no idea if they were armed and had a gun aimed at me. I don’t understand this suspension. This is the first time the Sarge and I have been at odds. I’ve given some thought to going back over to Patterson and rejoining the force there.”

  I immediately thought of Clay Carpenter calling him a knucklehead. “You don’t want to do that. This will be resolved soon enough, and you’ll be back on the force in no time. You’re too important here. They’re already having problems because they’re so short handed.”

  He looked grateful for my words of encouragement. “Come over here,” he said, patting the spot beside him on the sofa. “You look really pretty tonight. How was the dinner?”

  “I was late, so there was no dinner for me. Jackie’s mad and barely spoke to me, but she looked like a movie star. It was like everyone in the room was under a spell when she accepted her award.”

  He laughed. “She’s a looker all right.” He seemed to regret the words the minute they left his mouth. “Not that I look.”

  “It’s all right,” I said. “Everyone looks. I can’t help looking at her myself, but I’m telling you, every woman in town is glad she’s happily married.”

  The look on Glenn’s face softened. “Speaking of which … there’s something I want to ask you.”

 

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