The Darcy & Flora Boxed Set

by Blanche Day Manos

  We had stayed with Pat the previous evening until the forensic team finally got the dead girl’s body out of her concrete grave and loaded into the white van.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever spent a more horrible day than yesterday,” I said. It was not only horrible, it was long. We hadn’t left Pat’s until 9 o’clock.

  I put a couple of place mats on the table for our coffee mugs. “You know, if we hadn’t had those two quakes, that grave beneath Pat’s garage might never have been discovered.”

  “The Lord moves in wondrous ways,” Mom quoted. “I had wondered why we here in Oklahoma suffered those two quakes but maybe that’s why—so that pitiful body could be uncovered.”

  The steaming mug felt good to my cold hands. “Hmm. Probably the first quake weakened the floor of Pat’s garage and the second quake just finished it off. Do you really think the reason for the quakes was so that grave would be found?”

  “There’s a reason for everything,” Mom said.

  My mother believed that behind every physical happening lay a spiritual meaning. In other words, we couldn’t see the spiritual side of things; we could only see the results of the spiritual.

  “You’ve told me that all my life. I wish, though, that Pat had agreed to come home with us last night. If this grisly find was hard on us, I can’t imagine how it must have affected Pat.”

  But Pat hadn’t budged. “No,” she had declared, “this is my home and I’ll stay here like I’ve done for 40 years.”

  Then Pat had gotten a little teary-eyed. “But I don’t think I’ll ever sleep again without having this nightmare.”

  She echoed my feelings.

  “I keep thinking about her and Jasper,” Mom said. “They’re out there in that little house all by themselves with no near neighbors. You know Pat and her nerves. I don’t imagine she went to bed at all.”

  “Maybe it was best that she stayed at home. Jasper has the habit of popping up unexpectedly and I’m betting he was close enough to see everything that was happening yesterday. As soon as he knew everybody had gone, he probably came home. There’s no telling how he reacted to all that. I think Jasper is why Pat felt like she needed to stay there.”

  Mom picked up her mug and went over to stare out of the kitchen window. “Do you reckon Gary Worth is the one who killed Andrea?”

  “I don’t think there are a lot of possibilities. Several people would benefit from Andrea’s death. Of course, Gary would inherit her wealth.”

  “But why would he do that? If he didn’t want to live with her, he could have just gotten a divorce.”

  A spot over my right eyebrow was beginning to ache. “Law enforcement always looks at close family members first as possible suspects in a murder. When a woman is killed, they look at her husband or boyfriend. Sometimes it’s a crime of passion, sometimes it’s a planned murder; premeditated.”

  “I called an old friend in Dallas last night after we got home, Mom,” I said.

  “You did? I was so tired, I took a couple of aspirin, ate a tiny slice of that apple pie left in the refrigerator, and soaked in a hot tub. Almost fell asleep in there. And even after all that, I didn’t rest.”

  I hadn’t wanted the small slice of pie last night. I had showered, slipped into my flannel pajamas, and dialed Max Sutton.

  “Well, what did your old friend say, Darcy?”

  “He’s looking up some information for me, Mom.”

  “About Andrea?”

  “Actually, about Gary Worth.”

  Once again I could hear again Max’s nasal twang when he answered the phone. He had been in Texas twenty years but anyone could tell he was from New Jersey the second he started to speak.

  It brought back memories to hear him say, “Newsroom. This is Sutton.”

  “Hello, Maxie. This is Darcy Campbell.”

  “Will wonders never cease? Is it true what I’ve been hearing about you? I thought you went to Oklahoma to have some peace and quiet, but everything I’ve heard is unbelievable! You got involved with some Chicago crooks?”

  “I’m afraid most of what you’ve heard is true. And you won’t believe what I’m in the middle of now.”

  It took five minutes to explain what was going on in Levi and another ten to answer his questions. He ended with, “So how can I help?”

  “What I need from you, Maxie, is some of that insider information newspaper guys always have; not hard facts that you can publish, but rumors, gossip, and anything else you can tell me about Gary Worth.”

  “Let me write that down.” I pictured him scribbling on his notepad. “Yeah. I remember that name but it has been a while. Let me do some checking; there’re several people here who are oracles, know what I mean? They hear something; they don’t forget. I’ll check through some old files, too. I remember that our paper ran a couple of stories on that girl that vanished from Levi a couple of years ago. Gary was her husband?”

  “Right, Maxie. If you can get back to me soon, I’d appreciate it.”

  Then after that phone call, I had fallen into bed, only to have horrible dreams.

  I got up and went to the cabinet. I needed a couple of aspirins. Maybe they and the coffee would dispel the fog that had settled over my brain. I must have spent at least three hours last night in what passed for sleep, wrestling with faceless killers. I needed to be in top form for the mission I had planned for today, if I could possibly get away by myself. But after the ordeal at Pat’s last night, top form seemed like a vain hope. I felt plain awful.

  But, feeling awful or in fine fettle, I was determined, somehow, before the day ended, to find that shortcut to Gary Worth’s ranch.

  And I was worried about my mother. She was a lifelong friend of Pat’s and we both had gotten to know and like Sophie. Mom was really emotionally involved in this murder. She couldn’t even sit in one place for long this morning. Nerves kept her moving. If she would put her considerable insight into trying to resolve this case, she might feel she was helping her friends and in the process, help herself cope.

  “So Max is going to find out all he can about Gary?” Mom asked. “Oh, Darcy, what a tangle this is. Old timers would say that it’s a coil. I think Andrea might have gotten in the way of Gary or somebody else who thought she was too dangerous to live.”

  “Those are my thoughts exactly. One thing leads to another and trouble just keeps building. Think about all the lives affected by the death of Andrea Worth. Come and sit down,” I said, patting the table. “I need your expertise.”

  Her lips twitched in a small smile but she brought her coffee and sat across from me. “I don’t know about the expertise but I’d sure like to see the murderer brought to justice.”

  I rolled the hem of the place mat between my fingers and thought out loud. “Okay. Let’s just assume that Gary is the murderer. Did he kill her at the ranch or did he kill her somewhere else?”

  “Hmm. Well, didn’t the reports say that the officials who searched his ranch found no blood nor any kind of evidence of a struggle or foul play?” she mused.

  “Yes. That’s what they said. And security cameras at the ranch didn’t show anybody coming or going.”

  “I think if he had killed her there at home, something would have come to light. Was anybody else in the house the day she was supposed to have disappeared?”

  “The guard on duty . . . .”

  “I wonder what Gary was afraid of, to have a guard and security cameras here in Ventris County?” she interrupted. “Good night! This isn’t Chicago.”

  “That’s a good question, Mom. But he did have a guard and that gentleman swore that he came up to Gary’s truck and talked to him just before he left for work and there was nobody else inside the truck at that time.”

  “The cleaning lady came about eight o’clock that morning and Andrea was gone and her bed had not been slept in. I remember reading that in the newspaper article.” Mom turned her coffee mug round and round. “Maybe Andrea ran away. Maybe some vagrant found her and
killed her after she left her home.”

  “Possibility, I guess.”

  I went to the catch-all drawer under the telephone and pulled out a small notepad and pencil. Sitting down again, I turned to Mom. “Okay, I’m going to jot down some things as we think about them.”

  “First thing, Andrea disappeared without a trace. Why? Did she know something that made her too dangerous to live?”

  “Good question, Darcy,” Mom said. “But what could she have known?”

  “We’ll find out when the murderer is brought to justice. And he will be brought to justice. I’m sure of it.”

  “Is it a ‘he,’ Darcy? Remember that Charlene was not fond of her cousin.”

  “I don’t think she really hated her, Mom. She was spiteful but she seemed genuinely dismayed when I called her.”

  “Maybe more than one person was involved in her murder, Darcy.”

  Good thought. I jotted that down with a question mark after it.

  “Ugh. That coffee is cold,” Mom said. “Tom Mott, Darcy. List him as a suspect. He’s supposed to have an alibi but who knows for sure?”

  “Right. And, then, of course, Jasper Harris.”

  “Jasper? Oh, no, Darcy. I can’t picture Jasper as being violent.”

  “I can’t either, unless he lost his temper. Remember back in the spring when Tom Bill Monroney insinuated that Pat had taken some money belonging to the cemetery fund? Jasper almost flattened him. Scared Tom Bill so bad that he left town for a while.”

  “Okay,” Mom said slowly. “List Jasper.”

  “Remember that Andrea turned up in Pat’s garage. It would have been easy for him to bury her while his mother was away from home.”

  “Or, like I said, it could have been a vagrant,” Mom said. “Maybe it was somebody who found her away from her house and thought she had money on her.”

  “She left without her purse, Mom. Remember?”

  My mother left her cold coffee on the table and walked back to the window. “Oh, I don’t know. The whole thing boggles my mind. I just feel sorry for Sophie.”

  She swiped at a foggy spot on the window. “We were really early birds this morning, Darcy. In fact, the birds are just now coming to their feeders.”

  I joined her at the window. The sun had come up as we talked and the day was turning out to be beautiful. It seemed more like spring than autumn. Somehow, it was comforting to know that nature kept to its eternal cycle, no matter what the whims or sins of mankind.

  “I’m glad Sophie called us when she and Charlene got to Levi last night,” Mom said.

  “I wish they had stayed the night here or at least agreed to come for breakfast this morning, but I’m sure she needs some time alone. She was going to go talk to Grant as soon as his office opened.”

  The doorbell shrilled. “It’s awfully early for company,” I said, looking at Mom.

  Mom hurried to the front room. “Maybe that’s Sophie now.”

  The front door squeaked as she opened it. I had planned to oil it for a month. Then I heard Mom say, “Well, goodness! Jackson Conner! Come in. You’re just in time for breakfast.”

  I set another placemat on the table and filled another mug with coffee.

  Jackson was smiling as he followed Mom into the kitchen. “Darcy, I have some information for you. I thought I’d come and tell you in person rather than phoning.”

  “Great. Would you like toast with that coffee?”

  “No, thanks. Just coffee is fine.”

  My mother pointed to a vacant chair. “Now Jackson, you don’t have to have an excuse for dropping in but since you did, I’ve got some news for you, too, if you haven’t heard.”

  The smile disappeared from the lawyer’s face. “If you’re talking about the body found under Pat Harris’s garage, yes. I do know about that. But I haven’t heard if there has been a positive identification.”

  There was no reason to tell Jackson about my phone call to Adolpho’s. He might have a lawyer’s reaction and say I should have let Grant do that. But I was grateful for the diversion of his visit because it was obviously doing my mother an enormous amount of good.

  She placed a bowl of sugar and a small pitcher of half ’n’ half on the table. How did she know this man required these things for his coffee? And Flora Tucker, thoughtful sleuth, appeared flushed. Her eyes sparkled and she looked at Jackson Conner like he was a cool drink of water on a hot summer day. Was there something about these two that I should know?

  The kitchen chair creaked as he settled comfortably into it. His cherry pipe aroma had come into the house with him. To see this man sitting at our table filled a vacancy that I hadn’t realized existed. I could only surmise Mom felt the same way I did.

  “Mighty fine coffee, Flora,” he said. “A good way to start the day.”

  It was hard not to just blurt out the question I was burning to ask. He said something about information. I couldn’t be rude and say, “What information?” but I did wish he’d tell us the reason for his early morning visit. I felt pretty sure it was not entirely for a cup of Mom’s coffee.

  After draining his mug of its contents, he fished in his jacket pocket. “You remember showing me that picture of a knife you found out at Spirit Leap, Darcy?”

  Mom frowned at me. I had not planned to tell her about my visit to the lawyer. I nodded.

  “And I told you that it looked familiar but I couldn’t recall why or where I had seen it before.”

  “Yes, I remember our conversation.”

  “It seemed to me that at one time I had a knife similar to that. So I rummaged through my dresser drawer and finally through my junk drawer and Eureka! Success!”

  He brought out a duplicate of the knife I had found at Spirit Leap and placed it on the kitchen table.

  “Great! That’s wonderful, Mr. Conner. Does your knife still have the lettering intact?”

  “Indeed it does.” He scooted it across the table to me.

  Turning it over, I read aloud, “Cobblestone Homes. Hmm. It doesn’t ring a bell.”

  Mom leaned over my shoulder and studied it. “It is jiggling my memory but I can’t quite put my finger on why.”

  Jackson nodded. “Those were promotional knives Gary Worth handed out when he started a construction business a few years ago. It didn’t do so well. But then a while later he began another business which is the one he runs now. From all I hear, it is doing well and so is Gary.”

  I handed the knife back to Jackson Conner. “So if Gary used this as a promotional item for a business, he handed out bunches of them.”

  Jackson nodded. “Probably hundreds.”

  “So we don’t know who has them and who doesn’t.”

  He tapped the knife with his finger. “Right. We don’t know how many are still in use and how many are forgotten in a junk drawer as mine was.”

  Mom shuddered. “It looks evil to me. I don’t even want to touch it.”

  “Inanimate objects are not evil, Mom. Knives, guns, whatever. People can use them for good or for evil. You know that Dad always carried a knife and kept a gun in the house, too.”

  “Oh, I know, Darcy, but I’ve just never liked guns and maybe this knife seems evil ’cause it’s like the one you found out at Spirit Leap.”

  Jackson Conner smiled. “I’d better be getting along to my office. Thanks for the coffee. Try to get your minds on some pleasant things, the both of you. You can depend on those forensic experts to do an excellent job and Darcy, you let Grant handle this investigation, you hear? You ladies have a day as wonderful as the two of you.”

  My, my. Was Jackson Conner Irish? He certainly sounded like he had kissed the Blarney stone. I didn’t notice until he had driven away that he left his knife on my mother’s kitchen table.

  Chapter 30

  Jackson Conner had not been gone long when I heard a car pull into our driveway. I looked out to see Charlene’s little Crossfire in the driveway and Sophie and Charlene Williams walking up to the front porch.
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  “Sophie’s here,” I called to Mom. I opened the door. Mom was right behind me and folded Sophie into a warm hug. Sophie’s eyes were red from crying and she hadn’t taken time to apply any makeup.

  Charlene patted her aunt on the back.

  “Oh, Flora, Darcy, I’ve just come from your sheriff’s office. They think the preliminary tests show that was Andrea out at Mrs. Harris’s place. I just knew it was, ever since you called Charlene yesterday, Darcy.”

  She blew her nose on a wadded up tissue she carried.

  “Come into the kitchen, both of you,” Mom said. “Charlene, I am so glad you came with Sophie.”

  Sophie sniffled. “She has been a real help.”

  I led them toward the warmth of the kitchen. “Please come in and sit down. Would you both like some coffee? Have you had breakfast?”

  Sophie shook her head. “I couldn’t eat anything, but a cup of coffee would be nice. I’ve brought something I think everybody should know about.”

  “I had a roll earlier,” Charlene said, “but thanks.”

  Sophie carried a manila folder under her arm that I had not noticed until we stepped into the brightly lit kitchen. She collapsed into the chair vacated by Jackson Conner and Charlene sat next to her. Sophie handed me the folder.

  Sophie talked while I pulled some documents from the folder.

  “Andrea brought these papers to me about a year before she and Gary were married. I’m not even sure if she knew him then. I had already made a will leaving everything I own to her in the event of my death. She said she was going to make one just like it, giving all her property to me, since the two of us were the only ones left in our immediate family. But if she ever made such a will I never saw it and apparently neither did anybody else. Some of that stuff she inherited from her grandmother and some came in a divorce settlement from Tom. Then some she acquired when she worked in New York, before marrying Tom, but I actually can’t find out what happened to all those assets.”

  The pages in the folder detailed stocks, bonds, annuities, and a New York bank account. These had been in Andrea’s name only; not Andrea’s and Tom’s, and not in Andrea’s and Gary’s. Andrea Worth had been a wealthy woman.