by Kathi Daley
“There’s a rumor going around that the mayor was murdered. I don’t know if that’s true, but if it is you might want to talk to Sam Wilson.”
“Sam? Why would Sam kill Judge Harper, or anyone, for that matter?”
The man looked over his shoulder as if he expected someone to be listening in from behind. Once he was satisfied we were still alone, he proceeded to tell me what I can only describe as a wild and somewhat unbelievable story.
“Not a lot of people know this, but Sam’s mother lived next door to the mayor.”
I frowned. “Martha Wilson is Sam’s mother?” I knew both Sam and Martha, and I knew they shared the same last name, but Wilson is a common name and I’d never put together the fact that they were related. Sam talked about his mother a lot, but I guess he had never mentioned who his mother was.
“If that’s the dame who lives next to the mayor, then yes. Anyway, I ran into Sam a couple of weeks ago and we decided to go for a drink. One drink turned into four, and before long we were both spilling secrets best left unspoken. I won’t go into a lot of detail other than to tell you the reason Sam was drinking like a fish in the first place was because he was mad at both his mother and the mayor for participating in what he called ‘immoral relations.’”
My jaw dropped. “Judge Harper was in a relationship with Martha Wilson?”
“If what he told me was true. Anyway, Sam was more than just a little mad. He was furious. He told me he was going to put a stop to things one way or another.”
I paused to think. Judge Harper had been a widower for a lot of years, and I’d been aware that he was close to his next-door neighbor. Martha was a widow close to him in age and they seemed to have similar interests. I knew they were friends—good friends—but lovers? Somehow that didn’t seem quite right to me.
“Thank you for telling me this. I’ll have a chat with Sam.”
“Don’t tell him I told you nothin’. Sam is an odd sort of character, and everyone knows he has a temper. I wouldn’t want to find myself on the wrong side of it.”
“I won’t tell him where I heard about his mother and the judge, and I promise I’ll keep your name out of it altogether.”
The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that a son protecting his mother made as good a suspect as anyone. Sam seemed like a nice enough guy, in a dorky sort of way. He was probably in his mid-forties, had never married, and lived alone. I’d had no idea Martha was his mother, but I did remember thinking on several occasions that, based on his personality, his life choices, and the fact that he referred to his mother all the time, he seemed like a man who was a little too attached to his mother. Could he have found out that his mother and the judge were sleeping together and killed the judge due to some sort of outdated moral code?
I decided I needed to talk to Martha before I pursued this idea any further, so I tracked down Jenna and let her know I had to run an errand and would be back in an hour. She was fine with helping Noah should he need it, so I grabbed the keys to Grandpa’s truck and took off toward Lakeshore Estates without stopping to speak to anyone else. While the area where Judge Harper and Martha Wilson lived wasn’t all that far from the resort, there were a ton of tourists in town for the holiday, causing the traffic through town to move at a snail’s pace. By the time I reached Mrs. Wilson’s home, a good thirty minutes had passed.
“Tj, do come in,” Mrs. Wilson said when I knocked on the door of her large ranch-style home with the neatly painted white shutters. “I’ve just made some fresh lemonade. Would you care for some?”
“The traffic through town was a bear so I really only have a few minutes. I wanted to speak to you about Judge Harper.”
I noticed a look of genuine distress on Mrs. Wilson’s face. “How about we sit out on the patio, have a cold drink, and talk? It’s such a nice day.”
I was hoping for something quicker, but I could see Mrs. Wilson was genuinely upset. I supposed I could text Jenna and let her know I’d be longer than I’d originally predicted. “I guess I have time for a glass of lemonade.”
Mrs. Wilson smiled in relief. It occurred to me that she might not have had anyone to talk to about the loss of her friend and neighbor.
“Please do come in.” Mrs. Wilson opened the door wider. “The patio is at the back of the house.”
I looked around the immaculate house as I walked through. The complementary neutral colors provided a calming effect that I found pleasant. White sofas and armchairs were arranged artfully around a white brick fireplace. Whitewashed pine end tables and a large matching coffee table blended nicely with the light pine hardwood floors. The walls were painted a pale coffee color with contrasting baseboards and molding in a warm chocolate brown.
The color scheme continued out onto the patio with accents of red. Climbing roses trailed up a white lattice, completely covering one entire wall of the soft beige exterior of the house. The brick-red patio, which was a novelty for this area since most sitting areas tended to be wooden decking or cement blocks, was furnished with tan wicker furniture with dark brown cushions.
I sat down on one of the padded patio chairs arranged around a glass-topped table and took a long sip of the cold tart liquid. “I’m here to ask you about something I learned during the course of my investigation into Judge Harper’s death.”
“You wonder if Sam could have done it,” Mrs. Wilson jumped right in. “The new woman deputy wondered that as well.”
“She came to speak to you?”
Mrs. Wilson nodded. “I told her there was absolutely no way my Sammy had anything to do with Harold’s accident.”
“According to what I’ve been told, Sam believed you were involved in an intimate relationship with the judge.”
Mrs. Wilson lowered her eyes. She paused briefly before she answered, “I’m afraid I handled things with Sam rather poorly. He’s a good son who looks out for me, but he does have a jealous, possessive side. I suppose that’s why I hid my relationship with Harold from him.”
“Had it been going on for long?” It really wasn’t any of my business, but I gave in to my curiosity.
Mrs. Wilson gazed toward the brick wall that separated her property from his. A look of longing crossed her face before she glanced back toward me. “Harold and I lived next door to each other for more than forty years. The four of us, my husband and me and him and his wife, were close friends for most of that time. After his wife died we no longer went on trips together or spent quite as many weekends in one another’s company, but he maintained a relationship with my husband until he passed away eighteen months ago, so I saw him often. When my husband passed, Harold and I began sharing a meal and a card game at the end of the evening. We were both alone and we’d been close friends for so long. At some point our relationship took on an intimate aspect that I knew Sam would never understand, so I hid it from him. A few weeks ago Sam visited me unexpectedly and caught us in a delicate situation. He was so angry. He stormed out of the house, and I didn’t see him again until after Harold died in the accident.”
I sat back in my chair and considered my response. “Do you know whether Sam ever confronted the judge about your affair?”
Mrs. Wilson nodded. “Harold told me Sam stopped by his place when I wasn’t at home. Strong words were exchanged between them. Sam wanted Harold to promise not to see me again and he refused. He told me he tried to reason with Sam, to explain how it was between us, but he wasn’t having any of it. Sam has known Harold for most of his life. They were close when Sam was younger. He wouldn’t kill him.”
I didn’t intend to argue with the woman, but I didn’t necessarily share her certainty that Sam was innocent. If Kate had been by to speak to Mrs. Wilson, it appeared the fact that she and Judge Harper had been intimate must be known by both deputies. Maybe I’d find a way to slip it into the conversation that evening.
“As long as I’m her
e and we’re discussing Judge Harper’s accident, I wondered if you could think of anyone else who might have wanted to hurt him.”
Mrs. Wilson frowned. “Harold and I shared intimate details about our lives after we both lost our spouses. I do know there are some members of the community who found fault with decisions he’d made in his roles as judge and mayor. I find it hard to believe anyone would go so far as to kill him because of those disputes.”
“I don’t disagree with you, but someone slit his car’s brake line. Did the judge mention anyone in particular he was having a problem with?”
Mrs. Wilson paused. She narrowed her gaze and tapped a finger against her chin. After a moment she answered, “No. I’m sorry. I can’t say that anyone comes to mind.”
I thanked Mrs. Wilson for the drink and the conversation and headed back toward the west shore. The traffic was even worse on the return trip, so by the time I finally returned to the resort I had been gone over two hours.
When I saw Kyle’s car in the resort driveway my heart rate increased dramatically. Suddenly I felt shy and insecure. When he’d been here earlier in the day I’d acted without thinking, but now that I’d had time to think about things…
I slid out of the driver’s side of the truck, then bent over to greet Echo, Pumpkin, and Trooper. Ashley, Gracie, Kristi, and Kari were playing a game of badminton on the lawn in front of the house, while Doc, Helen, and Bookman looked on. I didn’t see Jenna, who must still be at the cook-off, and, more importantly, I didn’t see Kyle. I was about to approach the group gathered on the lawn when a pair of arms reached out from behind me and pulled me back to a more isolated spot behind the truck.
“I’ve missed you,” Kyle said before spinning me around and kissing me in a burst of pent-up passion. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let my actions be my answer. I felt my heart pound and my entire body begin to tingle as he deepened the kiss. The world fell away as sensation took over for thought. I ran my fingers though Kyle’s long blond hair as his arms tightened around me and my body melted into his.
A short time later I took a step back and came up for air. “As nice as this is, we seem to have an audience.” I nodded toward the gang on the lawn, who had all stopped to watch the show. “Perhaps we should pick this up later. When we’re alone.”
“Yeah.” Kyle sighed as he fought to control his breathing, which appeared as rapid as my own. “That might be a good idea.”
I took one long deep breath and blew it out slowly. I needed to get my head back in the game. Kyle’s kiss had taken my imagination to a place which most certainly wasn’t appropriate for mixed company. I looked around the immediate area and hoped my thoughts weren’t readily evident. “I don’t see Jenna. Do you know if she’s still helping Noah?”
“She’s down on the beach talking to Frannie and Hazel. They have a new theory about who might have tampered with Judge Harper’s vehicle. Is that where you were? Tracking down a lead?”
It took a minute for my mind to register and understand what Kyle was referring to. The case. Of course he was asking about where I’d been physically and luckily had no idea where I’d just been mentally. I tried to control it, but I couldn’t help but blush. I quickly looked away and glanced at everyone on the lawn. They’d gone back to the girls’ game now that Kyle and I were just talking. No one seemed to be paying us the least bit of attention.
Kyle continued when I didn’t answer. “They wanted to speak to you, but you weren’t here, so they settled for Jenna and me. I came up to the house when I saw your grandfather’s truck turn onto the resort road.”
I glanced back at Kyle. I fought the urge to pull him into the house so we could finish what we’d started, but I knew that now was not the time, so I decided it was best to change the subject and share what I’d just discovered. “It seems Judge Harper had an intimate relationship with his next-door neighbor, Martha Wilson. Her son, Sam, found out about it and threatened the judge not long before the accident.”
Kyle frowned. “Do you think he tampered with Judge Harper’s car?”
I shrugged. “Mrs. Wilson seems certain he’d never do such a thing, but I don’t know. The timing is suspect. I don’t know Sam well. He’s generally a nice if somewhat strange man. It has occurred to me on more than one occasion that he seemed to have a very strong attachment to his mother, although until today I didn’t put together the fact that Judge Harper’s neighbor was his mother. I just know that Sam talks about his mother a lot.”
“I suppose it is nice that the man is close to his mother. Sometimes I wish I was closer to mine. But a son protecting his mother is as good a motive as any to kill someone.”
I nodded. “That’s what I thought.”
Kyle glanced off into the distance. It seemed like he was searching for someone on the beach.
“Are you looking for someone?” I asked.
“Jenna. I think we may need to rescue her.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
Kyle wove his fingers through mine and led me toward the beach. We’d held hands before. Hundreds of times. But this time it felt different.
“Tj,” Frannie exclaimed when Kyle and I walked up. “I’m so glad you came to find us.”
Hazel Whipple, who was even older and more opinionated than my grandfather, looked intently at my hand entwined with Kyle’s but didn’t say anything.
I greeted the women, then said, “I hear you have a theory you’d like to share.”
Frannie scooted over on the bench to make room for Kyle and me. “We were just explaining our theory to Jenna.”
“They really might have something,” Jenna offered.
“Okay.” I sat down. “I’m all ears.”
“Striker Bristow spent a considerable amount of time in the library the day before the accident,” Frannie informed me.
“What was he doing?”
“Looking at those same old scrapbooks you asked to see when Zachary died.”
The scrapbooks were really a collection of newspaper articles, photos, letters, and other random items from a specific period of time. Each scrapbook covered a couple of years with the oldest one dating back more than two hundred years to the days when Serenity was little more than a lumber mill.
“That does seem odd.” Striker Bristow was a businessman in Serenity temporarily while he tried to get a permit to build a strip mall at the edge of town. What would he want with a bunch of old letters and photos?
“That’s what I thought, which is why I’m bringing it up.”
“Do you have any idea what he was looking for?” I asked.
“Not initially,” Frannie answered. “The day he came into the library he asked about historical documents. I pointed him toward some books that discuss the history of the area, but he said he was looking for original documents. I told him I did have some, but he couldn’t check them out. I figured that would be that because he appeared to be a busy man. I couldn’t imagine he’d want to spend his day sitting in a library.”
“But he stayed,” Hazel added.
“Did he ask for any specific information?” I wondered.
“No. He seemed interested in a certain span of time—between 1968 and 1978—but he didn’t tell me exactly what he was looking for. He did, however, take a lot of notes and quite a few photos with his phone.”
I paused to consider what Frannie was telling me. “I’ll admit that does sound is odd, but what would this have to do with Judge Harper?”
“After Bristow left, Harold came in later and asked to look at the same book Bristow had been looking at. He turned to a specific page, read something and frowned, then left. Based on the timing of the visits from the two men, I’m going to assume Bristow found what he was looking for, left to tell Harper, and then Harper came by to verify it for himself.”
“Do you know what he was looking at?” I asked.
&n
bsp; “No. I’ve tried to figure it out. I’ve looked through the book a bunch of times, but I haven’t found anything that seems relevant or shocking. There’s a chance that whatever Bristow was looking for had significance only to him and Harold. I probably wouldn’t have given it much thought once I figured out there was no way for me to identify the page the men were looking at or even if it was the same one, but then Harold was murdered and suddenly the entire thing seemed suspect.”
“You may not know which page the men were interested in, but you know which book it was, and you might have seen if it was opened to the front, middle, or end,” Kyle pointed out.
“That’s true. I do know which book, and I could see they both were looking toward the middle of it, but, like I said, I’ve gone over every page and nothing stood out.” Frannie looked at me. “I thought maybe you could come by to take a look. You seem to have a sense about these things. We’re closed on Sundays, but I’ll go in tomorrow if you think you might have time.”
I glanced at Kyle, who shrugged. “My dad might be moved out of intensive care tomorrow, and if he’s moved to a regular room I’ve made plans to take my sisters to see him. I can come by the library after that. Can I text you with a time once I see how the day is going?”
“Certainly, dear. Any time would be fine. I’m so glad to hear that your dad is doing better. I’ve been praying for him every day since I heard about the accident.”
“Thank you. I’m sure he appreciates all the prayers and good thoughts.”
Kyle and I spoke to Frannie and Hazel for a few more minutes, and then Jenna headed back toward the cook-off with the two of us to see how things were progressing.
Chapter 10
“Maybe we should check on the girls,” Jenna commented as we made our way. “They’re fine with Mom and the others, but it’s been a while.”
