“About?” Tucker turned the page on his little notepad, ready for what I had to say.
“About my grandmother, the old days, his new wife. You know. Stuff. I thought he sounded a little bit off the rails, if you know what I mean. Just an old man rambling on about the past. But then he pulled me closer and told me—”
I hesitated.
“Told you what?”
“Tucker, he told me he thought someone was trying to kill him,” I finished, closing my eyes and waiting for him to explode. I should have told him this sooner. It might make his work easier now.
“Did he say why or why he thought this?” Tucker asked quietly.
I nodded and repeated what Jimmy had told me that day. “Tucker, I didn’t tell you before because I just thought it was an old man’s imagination or maybe that he’d really just flipped his lid.”
“I can see how you’d think that,” he said. “I probably would have done the same thing.”
Relief flooded through me and I promised myself I’d never withhold information from him—or anyone else—again.
“We’re going to need to talk to someone about the brake line on that truck. Maybe we can figure out where it was services. The other incident will be harder to document but I’ll get one of the guys on it right away,” he said, furiously making notes on the little sheet of paper.
I listened to his pencil making little scratching sounds.
“Did you find out anything else about Withrow?” I asked.
“Not much,” he answered, still scribbling.
“I know you said Jimmy was broke but I wonder if he had a will?” I asked, the thought suddenly coming to mind.
“I can’t imagine someone in his position not having one,” Tucker said, hesitating and then looking up at me.
“Doesn’t he have an attorney or someone that would handle things like that?”
“Everything went through Withrow,” Tucker said.
“He’s not an attorney. Jimmy had to have one on retainer, right?” I asked. “Maybe more than one.”
“I’ll add it to Kellen’s list,” Tucker said, standing. “He’s turning out to be a crack investigator with this type of stuff.”
I stood as well, smiled and reached for his glass. There was that weird awkwardness again, as if neither of us knew what to say next.
“Hey,” he said. Reaching out, he caught my hand, twined his fingers with mine and pressed my palm to his chest.
I looked up at him. His expression was impossible to read. “Hey what?”
He cocked his head to one side and grinned. Then he slid the fingers of his free hand along my neck and tugged gently at my ear lobe. “You know you never ever have to be afraid of talking to me about anything.”
“I should know that by now,” I said.
Tucker leaned closer. Warmth spread from his fingertips outward, causing my heart to do a little backflip. I closed my eyes, anticipating a kiss that was going to curl my toes.
Warm lips brushed mine and it was all I could do to keep standing.
Then he tugged my earlobe again. “Gotta run,” he whispered and then he was out the door, thumping down the stairs.
I sagged against the nearest chair.
“Starla, you’re an idiot,” I said to no one in particular and then laughed aloud. “No, Tucker is the idiot.”
After roaming around my apartment for a while, unable to settle on anything to keep my hands and mind busy, I decided to go down and help in the diner. The diner was just starting to get busy with the dinner crowd. Barbara Ellen looked like she was happy for my help. I served as hostess at first and then waited tables, making sure iced tea glasses were full and plates full of food were delivered to the correct tables.
It was good to see old customers coming into the diner again.
What I didn’t anticipate was seeing Davis Withrow come through the front door with Ben Herlong. I pasted a smile on my face and greeted them warmly, just like I always do. But my thoughts were with what Herb Fleming had told me. Ben and Jimmy had had a terrible argument the morning of his death. And it was all because Withrow wouldn’t let Jimmy pay the road crew what he’d promised them.
Now the two of them were in the seated across from each other acting like old pals. Ben was already looking at the menu.
“What can I get you to drink?” I asked.
“Sweet tea,” they both said at the same time and then laughed.
I smiled. “Coming right up.”
While I poured tea into ice filled glasses, I watched the two out of the corner of my eye. My first thoughts that they were acting like buddies changed a bit. They appeared to be deep in conversation but Ben was really just listening intently. Withrow was doing all the talking.
“Think they’re talking about Jimmy’s murder?” Barbara Ellen said quietly as she worked to fill glasses.
“If they are, it looks like Withrow has all the information. Herlong is just listening,” I told her.
“Think they’re making plans as to what they’re going to do with his estate?” she asked.
I laughed but wasn’t about to divulge what Tucker had told me. “I’d think his wife might have some say in that.”
Barbara Ellen shrugged, pushed her glasses up on her nose with a finger and grabbed two glasses of tea.
I carried my two glasses to the table and placed one in front of each man.
Their conversation stopped abruptly.
“Are you gentlemen ready to try some of our homemade spaghetti and meatballs or would you like something lighter?” I asked.
“I think I’d like both,” Withrow said without giving it much thought.
“Same here,” Ben told me.
“So spaghetti and a house salad?” I asked, scooping up the menus.
They both nodded.
“Got it. I’ll bring some rolls to the table in just a moment.”
Again, they nodded, clearly eager to get back to their conversation.
I placed their order and scanned the dining room to see if anyone needed anything. We’d just recently started placing a basket of hot dinner rolls on the tables for guests to enjoy while waiting for their food. We were getting lots of compliments on it and I was proud of Barbara Ellen for thinking of it. Anything to keep customers coming in that door.
Carrying several baskets of rolls, I placed them on tables, took a few more orders and let the kitchen staff know what I’d done.
Barbara Ellen told me she was going to take a little break and I nodded and smiled. She looked tired and some days I worried that she worked way too many hours. She always brushed off my concern but it was good to see her pour herself a glass of tea and climb onto a stool in the kitchen. Soon, I heard her laughing and talking with Pickles and that made me smile, too.
Davis and Ben’s salads came up first and I carried them to their table.
“These rolls are delicious,” Ben said, tearing one in half and slathering butter on it.
“Thank you. They’re my grandmother’s rolls. She always added a little extra sugar,” I told him.
They both nodded.
“It’s a shame Jimmy didn’t get to come in and see the diner. He was so fond of my grandmother and I know he would be proud to see what we’ve done with the place,” I said.
At the mention of Jimmy’s name, Withrow’s fork full of salad stopped halfway to his mouth. He lowered it to the plate.
“Jimmy had become somewhat of a recluse in the last few months,” he explained.
“Maybe he just wanted to spend time with his new bride,” I suggested.
Ben dug into his salad.
Withrow nodded, chewed, swallowed and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Maybe.”
I left the two men to their salads and made my rounds with a fresh pitcher of tea.
Customers came and went, the diner getting noisier and noisier as people recognized each other and shouted out hellos. It was a good feeling to see my little diner returning to normal.
And sti
ll Davis and Ben continued their serious conversation.
I was busy at the register so Barbara Ellen delivered the plates of spaghetti to their table.
“Did they stop talking the minute you walked up?” I asked when she returned to the front.
She nodded.
“I wonder what they’re up to,” I said.
“I’d say nothing good but then again...”
For the next little while, Barbara Ellen and I were busy taking turns at the register and clearing tables. The crowd thinned and grew more quiet, just the occasional soft laughter or, every once in a while, a cell phone chirping.
I looked up, surprised to see Ben standing at the register. “Just letting you know,” he began when I came toward him, “Davis is getting the check.”
I nodded my thanks. “Listen, I know you and Jimmy were old friends. It’s so sad that someone would kill him.”
“He was a legend. You should have known him when he was younger,” he shook his head. “Hell on wheels.”
“So I’ve heard,” I said. “Are you staying in town?”
“They’ve finally agreed to let us leave,” he said. “We’ve got a gig in California in a couple of days. Some of the guys want to visit with their families before we head out there. We’ll be pulling out in about an hour.”
I smiled. “Be safe.”
He nodded again, tugged at the bill on his ball cap and turned to leave.
I wondered briefly if I should call Tucker and let him know what I’d seen this evening. Were we letting Jimmy’s killer just walk out the door? He had means, motive and opportunity.
Before I could think much longer about that, Davis Withrow came toward the register.
“How was everything?” I asked, taking the receipt and his credit card.
“Delicious, as always,” he said with a grin.
“Good,” I said, swiping his card. For some reason, while blindly reaching for a pen to get his signature, I glanced at the name on the card. Davis E Withrow. Why did that seem important?
My pen was missing. Again. I sighed heavily and began looking around for it.
Withrow chuckled. “I have one,” he said, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket.
Almost in slow motion, an object practically leaped out of the pocket and landed on the counter between us.
An Accu-Click Injector.
Chapter Twenty
We both stared at it for a moment as it rolled across the counter. Quickly, I put out my hand to stop it at just about the time Davis reached for it. He was quicker than me, scooping it up before I could get a good look at it.
“I thought Tucker confiscated all of those,” I said, watching him tuck it away back inside his jacket pocket.
“You know I’ve carried one of these for Jimmy for so many years, I guess I just forgot about having this one,” he explained and then busied himself signing the receipt.
“Well, you probably should turn that one in to Tucker, too,” I said, watching him carefully. He clutched the pen so tightly, his fingers were turning white.
“I will but I don’t think it will do much good,” he said.
“Someone killed Jimmy Bones,” I said, pointing at the spot where he’d returned the injector to his pocket. “With one of those. Tucker needs every little piece of the puzzle he can find to figure out who did it.”
“This isn’t a piece of the puzzle,” he snapped. “It’s an old, empty, out of date, Accu-Click injector that wouldn’t have done Jimmy any good even if he had been exposed to peanuts.”
“But—”
He rolled his eyes, sighed heavily and pulled the injector out of his pocket again. “Not only is it empty, it’s like three years old,” he said, pointing at the date stamped on the side.
“They why do you have it?”
“Just for show. Jimmy was more paranoid than allergic. It made him feel safe just to know I had his medication with me.”
“You are going to turn that in to Tucker, correct?”
“Oh, of course. I’ll make sure he gets it first thing in the morning,” he promised. “I don’t think it will help him get to the bottom of Jimmy’s murder but I wouldn’t want him to add me to his suspect list.”
I knew Tucker was already checking into Withrow’s background and financials. It didn’t matter if he told Tucker or not. I was going to tell him. This had to mean something.
“How is Caroline doing?” I asked, heart pounding in my chest.
“Doing as well as can be expected,” he said, frowning. “Herb’s been with her all afternoon.”
“It’s a blessing the reporters haven’t been driving her crazy,” I said.
“She’s pretty well hidden away in her hotel room just waiting to take Jimmy back home. I’m sure they’ll descend when that happens,” Davis said as he inched his way to the door. “I’m going to check in to see if she needs anything before I turn in.”
“Okay, thank you,” I said, making a mental note to check on her the next morning, just to make sure she was okay.
It was after ten before we closed down the diner and I ushered Barbara Ellen outside. I’d forgotten all about getting some additional lighting back here and it seemed darker than usual.
“It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” she said when we stepped out the back door.
The air had cooled considerably but I could still feel the heat of the concrete beneath my feet. Both of us looked skyward. The sky was black velvet, studded with stars.
“It is,” I said, thinking that my grandma and Jimmy Bones were up there watching over us. Maybe that’s why the stars were so bright. “I feel sorry for people who live in big cities. They never see the stars like this.”
“True,” Barbara Ellen said.
I promised myself, I would never take Sugar Hill and this view of the night sky for granted.
“It’s cooled down a little,” she said, starting in the direction of her car.
“Thank goodness,” I said. “Good night, Barbara Ellen. And thanks for all your help this evening.”
“Lock up,” she reminded me.
“Will do,” I told her and went back inside. “And you do the same.”
After making sure the diner was locked up tight, I went upstairs. It was ten-thirty. Too late to call Tucker and tell him about what had happened with Withrow? Was it really just an old injector he’d forgotten about or something else?
Something was worrying me but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
While I changed clothes, I wished I’d been able to get a closer look at the Accu-Click just to make sure it was empty. Finally, I climbed into bed and reached for my cell phone. It was late but I had to tell Tucker about this as soon as I could. Pulling his number up on the screen, I tapped it. I promised myself I would give it three rings and then hang up.
He answered on the second ring sounding relaxed and a little sleepy. “You still up?” he asked, his voice deep, his slow, southern drawl more pronounced than ever.
“Just crawled into bed,” I told him, sliding down onto my fluffy pillows. “I need to tell you something.”
“Good,” he said, and I could hear him moving around. “It worries me that you were afraid to tell me what you knew about Jimmy.”
“It was just me being silly, Tucker. And I wasn’t really afraid, just—I don’t know,” I closed my eyes. Listening to his voice in the dark, I felt my muscles beginning to relax from the day.
“So, what do you need to tell me?”
“This evening when Davis Withrow was paying for his dinner, he reached into his pocket for a pen,” I began.
“Okay.”
“And an Accu-Click injector fell out and rolled across the counter.”
“Are you sure that’s what it was?” Now, Tucker sounded wide awake.
“Yes, I’m sure. I asked him about it and he said he’d been so used to carrying one over the years, he just forgot he even had it in his pocket,” I explained.
“That makes sense and fi
ts in with the rest of the evidence we found. Most of Jimmy’s medication was useless,” Tucker said quietly
“Except the one Jimmy used the night of the concert,” I reminded him. “You said he basically overdosed with the stuff.”
“Maybe Davis made sure Jimmy always had an up to date one on him,” Tucker said. “How did Davis react?”
“He appeared to be a little bit nervous, put it back in his pocket right away and assured me it was empty. Of course, I didn’t get a real close look at it. When I asked him more questions about it, he pointed out the expiration date to me and told me it was three years old and useless,” I finished.
Tucker was quiet.
“I made him promise that he would turn it in to you in the morning and he assured me he would,” I said.
“Good. That’ll just save me some work.”
“How’s that?”
“I have something I need to talk to him about. I was going to the hotel to talk to him but I’ll do it when he comes in.”
“What is that?” I asked, feeling pretty good about sharing my news with Tucker. Now I could relax and—
“DEW Productions. Davis Edward Withrow.”
That’s the name I’d seen on his credit card. “So, that means he owns all the rights to Jimmy’s music and has control over his finances as well,” I breathed.
“Yep.”
“Worth more to him dead than alive,” I whispered.
“Yep.”
“Aren’t you going to arrest him—”
“For what? I can’t prove, at least right now, that he did anything to Jimmy. But I can follow the money.”
“What if he gets away?” I asked.
“I’ve got patrol watching his vehicle tonight. If it looks like he’s going anywhere, they’ll call me.”
“So tomorrow when he comes in to turn in that injector—”
“I’ll have a few questions for him,” Tucker said with finality.
“And, if he doesn’t come in?” I asked.
“I’ll just pay him a little visit.”
“Do you think he killed Jimmy? They were supposed to be like best friends. Jimmy trusted him with everything,” I said.
“Except Herb Fleming and Caroline. Davis didn’t want either of them around, but Jimmy held his ground,” Tucker said. “It just makes Davis look mighty suspicious,” Tucker said.
Peanut Butter Pies & Dangerous Lies Page 14
