by T. J. Jones
"I'm really sorry Edith. I'm planning to go to Miami and talk to some of the people that knew him, see if anyone might have any idea, one way or the other." I avoided saying the words. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"
"I should have said something before, but it's not easy to talk about. It's a money thing. David had some money in his bank account, quite a lot of money. He always talked like he was pinching pennies and he said he had that roommate because he couldn't afford to live alone."
"Buying or renting are both expensive in Miami, at least down where his place was. I could see him needing to split the rent."
"He had a little less than three million dollars in the bank."
"Holy crap! How could he have that kind of money? Maybe people on the Point don't think that's a lot, but to me it's a fortune. Not the kind of money you make working eight to five. Was he a really good investor?"
"I have his bank statements, several years of them. He paid enough taxes to stay out of trouble, but a lot of the deposits weren't checks, they were cash or cashier checks. And there were cash withdrawals too, twenty thousand dollars at a time. Our lawyer says it looks really shady, like it had to be drug money. He's worried the bank might have reported it as suspicious, said the IRS might come after us and want the money back. We were his only beneficiary, and of course we had Federal estate tax on it, but so far no one from the government has knocked on my door. Davey was supposed to have to worry about our estate, not the other way around."
"I'll need to see those bank statements, alright? Honestly, it does sound like drug money to me."
"I made copies of everything, because I don't trust my husband. When Eddy tossed David's cell phone, I couldn't believe it, I was so damn mad I wanted to beat him. I should have been able to see what was on that phone, who Davey's friends were, everything. I don't care if some of it might have been pornographic, I'm a big girl. It was a record of his life."
"Eddy is old school, he probably thought he was protecting you."
"Eddy thinks I'm clueless about money and everything. I guess he thinks he's taking care of me, shielding me from what David might have been doing. But he was my son too, I have a right to know what was going on, even if he was dealing dope."
"Absolutely. I'll tell you anything I find out Edith, even if it isn't what you want to hear."
"I know you think you have to do this for David, but you charge me whatever it takes Eric. I want to know what happened to my son, no matter what it costs. If Eddy can't get on board with that, he can go live in one of his listings, because he won't be living here."
***
The more I learned, the less sure I was that Davey had committed suicide. There were suddenly about three million more reasons why someone might have killed him. His Dad had to be considered a suspect, much as I hated to even think it. Father issues, Davey had said in the letter. I knew Eddy Templeton could be hard to get along with at times. Angie claimed that he and her father had nearly come to blows more than once. Not very neighborly.
Eddy had always struggled with his son's sexuality, but it was a big leap to think he might kill him over it, or for any amount of money. Still, why was he so adamant that no one look into it? And destroying his cell phone was really stupid, unless of course he had reasons other than a few dirty pictures. Without a court order there was no getting to cell phone records, and since it had long since been ruled a suicide, an official investigation seemed unlikely no matter what I found. Still, a conspiracy with the local police also seemed improbable. Undoubtedly just a bunch of "good ole boys" that thought they were helping out a father ashamed of his son. Davey deserved better than that.
I made it to the Jeffries right on time, but dinner had been delayed. Frank Jeffries had flown in and would be joining us. His plane was on the ground and he was on his way. Rosa explained the situation to me and led me out to the porch.
Angela was euphoric, possibly manic I realized suddenly, knowing what I now knew. She was dressed for dinner, wearing a lowcut gown and jewelry, her blond locks curled softly to frame her face. To say she was beautiful was an understatement. I tried to fight the impulse, but when she rushed into my arms I was helpless, again.
"Eric, I am so happy! Daddy's going to be home in a little while. I haven't seen him in two months! Wow, you look so handsome! God, why did I ever let you get away." She was all over me, holding my hands and smiling up at me, then suddenly sliding close and pulling me into a long, painfully passionate kiss. I finally pushed her away, just a little too late.
Maggie coughed softly and walked into the room, just about the time Angie's lips left mine. That teenager in me thought having two sisters fight over me would be exciting, but Maggie didn't find it amusing. At all.
"Well Slater, there you are again. Nice Angie!"
"Oh Maggie, don't be silly, I'm not going to steal your new boyfriend."
"Don't worry, he's still all yours as far as I'm concerned."
I stepped away from Angela as fast as I could, but she continued clinging to my hand and smiling at me like I was her date to the prom and about to take her virginity. It didn't help that I was five shades of red and mumbling instead of talking. "I thought we were going to talk about Davey."
"See Maggie? He can't wait to take you to Miami. She told me you two are going away together. You'll have an adventure! Are you going to try to bang her Eric? Slater, I forgot, I'm supposed to call you Slater now. That does sound a lot sexier. Let's be honest, my sister needs a really good fucking, she is much too serious." Angie was grinning and rocking from one foot to the other. I was amazed I hadn't seen it before, the bipolar thing. Maybe Maggie would understand and give me a pass.
Instead she gave me a very dirty look. "Don't worry Angie, Slater still has a thing for you, I wouldn't dream of getting between you two."
"Davey, let's talk about Davey." I stared at Maggie, hoping for some understanding, but she avoided any eye contact. Angela pulled me over to the small couch and sat down next to me. Maggie sat in the small recliner across the table from us. I decided to ignore the drama and try to act professional, as if I were a real detective.
"I am beginning to think that there is a possibility that Davey didn't kill himself, Angie. Did Maggie explain the notebook to you?"
"A little, but I'm going to leave it up to you." She pulled an envelope from her handbag and handed it to me. "Ten thousand to get you started. If you need more just say so."
"Angie, no. Edith already gave me some money."
"I don't care, you'll need it. You may be down there for a while. Hire anyone you need to, bribe whoever you see fit, just find out who killed Davey! I loved him so much." She teared up and leaned into me suddenly with her head against my shoulder, making a small whimpering sound. Then, just as suddenly, she leapt up and bolted from the room, crying and wailing loudly as she ran up the open stairs.
I sat there shocked, looking across the table at Maggie. I finally asked what I thought was the obvious question. "Is she going to be alright? She won't hurt herself, will she?"
"No, not when she's like this. She just gets so wound up she can't control her emotions. She'll crash, sooner or later. You should spend some time with her then, maybe you'd get over your obsession."
"She kissed me, Maggie. It was nothing."
"Yeah? You should have seen the way you were looking at her before you knew I was in the room. It didn't look like nothing to me."
"I like you a lot, you know that. The thing with Angie, that was long ago."
"I'm not interested right now, I told you that." She replied coldly.
"Alright, can we at least be civil to each other?"
"What, I have to smile for you again? I'll smile when I damn well feel like it."
"I hope you feel like it pretty soon." I tried. She stopped glaring, so that was nice.
***
Frank Jeffries was a big man, tall as me but a lot heavier. Maggie had made it sound like he was having financial trouble, but he didn't act
like a man having any trouble at all. He was as confident as he had always been; and by confident, I mean arrogant.
I could remember him being mad at us as kids, chasing Davey and I and whatever other unlucky suitors Angela had that day out of the pool and off the premises. He had an ugly temper at times. There were occasions when he seemed friendly, but they were rare. I hadn't seen him in a dozen years, and now he acted surprised that I was there.
We all sat down at the table and waited for Angela to come down from her room. Frank sat at the end of the table opposite his wife, then looked over at me.
"Eric, right? Sorry to hear about your mother. She was a good woman."
"Thank you, I sure liked her."
"Well, of course you did." He almost sounded angry, like he thought I was being flippant. He looked at me coldly then turned his head toward the stairs and bellowed at his daughter. "Angela, get your ass down here."
"She's upset again, about David." His wife spoke up. "She's wound up tonight dear, so go easy on her."
"You still in the Navy?" He didn't acknowledge his wife, but turned his attention back to me. "You must have close to twenty in by now, right?"
"Just hung it up. Twenty years and a couple days seemed like enough."
"What are you going to do now? You're still young enough to start something new."
"Not real sure. I've been fixing up the house my Mom left me. I was thinking about maybe buying another one, fix it up and sell it. Keep flipping them." Honestly, the idea came to me mid-sentence, but it sounded pretty good. For some reason a small part of me wanted his approval, and it was something to say.
"There's money in that, maybe hire some help, really go after it. I could line you up with some financing for something like that."
"It's a thought, that's for sure." Something to say again. I was sure dealing with Frank Jeffries meant a lot of strings and I wasn't really interested.
"Eric has an airplane, Daddy." Angela said as she walked in and settled into a chair.
"Yeah? What kind?" He asked, suddenly interested.
"It's a Piper, an Arrow. Landing gear and the constant speed prop, but nothing fancy."
"Yeah, nothing special about those. Is it the turbo?"
I was a little deflated and had to admit it wasn't.
Maggie came to my defense. "I went up with him and flew it a little. Never been in a Piper before. It isn't a fast as the Mooney, but it has plenty of zip, and it's more stable, not squirrely at all."
"Yeah? You're an expert pilot suddenly?" He glanced in her direction.
"Nice to see you too Dad." Maggie got up and walked into the kitchen to help Rosa. Angela was seated next to her father. She had returned to her previous giddiness.
"Daddy, how are things going down south? Mom said you went to Washington again. Do you have another big money deal going? Are you still working with Uncle Gary? The last time we talked you said that you were."
"Angela, what is wrong with you? Gary's been dead for four years. You're babbling, stop it!" He snapped suddenly. "You really need to take your medication. Jesus Maggie, aren't you helping her at all?"
"Daddy, don't be mad, please." Angela teared up. She glanced at me apologetically, then put an elegant hand on her father's forearm. "I hate the medicine, it makes me feel numb. It isn't Maggie's fault."
He drew a deep breath, like life and having a bi-polar daughter was slowly killing him. At that moment, I would happily have volunteered to help.
"What kind of financing do you think I could get?" I tried to steer the conversation away from Angie as Maggie returned with Rosa and the food. "What kind of rate do they offer for short term construction?"
"Daddy!" Angela interrupted suddenly, still brimming with energy. "Did you know Eric was an investigator in the Navy? He and Maggie are going down to Miami to see if they can find out what happened to Davey."
"Jesus Christ!" He erupted. "David Templeton killed himself Angie, what is there to find out?"
I wasn't sure if the question was for me or his daughter, but I wanted to give him the answer most likely to get us through the rest of supper peacefully. "I'm just going down to tie up some loose ends for Edith. Probably talk to his roommate and maybe go by where he worked. Very likely, it's just a case of suicide."
"And why are you involved?" He had turned to Maggie.
"Slater doesn't speak Spanish, plus it'll be nice to get out of here for a couple days."
"I just know Davey didn't kill himself, I just know it." Angie said to no one in particular.
Frank was quiet for a moment, then he looked coldly at his younger daughter. "You're not going, Miami is a dangerous place."
Maggie didn't raise her voice, just looked him in the eye. "Yeah, pretty sure I am going Dad. I'm thirty-two years old, I'll do whatever I want."
"Bullshit! You're living under my roof, you will do what I tell you to do!"
I really didn't want to be in the middle of a domestic, but another part of me wanted to punch the old prick. I took a deep breath and put in my two cents. "I've spent some time in Miami, Mr. Jeffries, I'll watch out for her." Every time I opened my mouth, I put my foot in it.
Maggie glared at me. "You're not helping Slater. I'm a big girl and I don't need watching out for. I will go where I want and when I want, with or without either of your permission or help."
Frank Jeffries was incensed. "I said you can't go, and that's the end of it! Rita, talk some sense into your daughter. Angie, Davey hung himself because he was screwed up. I don't know if he couldn't handle being queer or what it was about, but he's dead and that's that. Eric, you are not to be dragging my daughter off to Miami, is that clear?"
"No disrespect sir, but I'm going down there, and if Maggie wants to ride along, she's welcome to come with me."
Surprisingly, he didn't throw me out of the house this time, but it was a quiet, tense supper. I was pretty sure there was no chance in hell that he planned to help me line up financing to start buying spec houses. The more I thought about it the more I liked the idea, but I sure didn't want Frank Jeffries as a partner. I stayed for desert, then Maggie walked me out.
"Wow, sorry about all that." She said, standing by my car. "He gets like that sometimes. He hates it when Angie is all worked up, it sets him off."
"Are you still planning on going to Miami with me? Maybe it's not worth the hassle."
"And let him win after that scene? No damn way. He can throw me out for all I care. I'll come sleep on your couch."
"If I'd thought that was on the table, I would have tried harder to piss him off. My couch is lumpy, but my bed is really comfortable."
"You're still on my shit list Slater." She laughed. "I catch you making out with my sister and I'm supposed to come jump in bed with you? Not one chance in hell."
"That's fair, I guess. Want to go down Thursday night after your last class, or Friday morning?"
"I'll let you decide. How long will we be gone? I hate leaving Angela for more than a couple days. Mom can't watch her all the time, and my Dad is worse than useless. He riles her up more than anybody."
"We need to get there early enough on Friday to talk to the people he worked with, then maybe go see his roommate. I'm going to do some looking online and see what some of these clubs are about."
"I can imagine what they're about. See you tomorrow Slater."
***
Judging by their websites, the clubs whose cards Davey had weren't what Maggie or I would have expected. They were mostly upscale dance clubs in high end neighborhoods, catering to the young, rich, and straight crowd. One of the cards on his nightstand had been from a club that targeted gay men, but it was only the one. Maybe the individual contacts were the important thing. Maybe I would have to talk to them.
It was nearly midnight when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but it was the right area code, so I answered it. I could barely hear the caller.
"Eric? Are you there?" It was Rita Jefferies.
"Yeah,
I'm here, Rita. Sorry about making Frank mad tonight, sure wasn't my intention."
"It doesn't matter. He's always mad."
I waited, but she didn't continue. "It's almost midnight Rita, what can I do for you?"
"I have to ask you," She paused, so long I thought one of our phones had dropped the call. "I have to ask you to drop this thing with Davey. I know you're going to go to Miami and ask around, but I hope that after that, you can let it go."
"Why would I do that, and why would you want me to? You always liked Davey, don't you want to know what happened to him?"
"Of course, if that's all there was to it. I can't explain. I'm looking out for my family Eric. That's all it is. I think the poor kid just killed himself."
"I'm sorry Rita, but Davey was like my brother when I was a kid, and his mother is broken-hearted. If Davey didn't really hang himself, if someone murdered him, I have to find that out if I can. If not for Edith, then for me. And for Angela. Maybe knowing will help her."
"But he's gone. What good will it do?"
"Knowing the truth is always important, Rita, and Davey deserves that."
"Alright, I was afraid I was wasting my breath." There was a hint of anger in her tone. "Can I at least ask you to not mention this phone call to either of the girls?"
"I won't. It would help to know why you thought it necessary to call me in the first place."
"I can't explain." That was it, she ended the call without the benefit of a goodbye.
I stayed awake for an hour, staring at the dimly lit ceiling in my bedroom. There was a whole lot more to the story of Davey's death than a belt and the horse barn, and the Jeffries were smack in the middle of it. Considering how I'd left things with Frank, I really didn't want to go back to the Jeffries anytime soon, but I needed to talk to Angela. I was pretty sure she knew a lot more than she was saying.
Chapter Seven
Maggie Jeffries loped out of her driveway at seven o'clock in the morning and turned east. She barely cracked a smile when I fell in beside her, just picked up the pace a little. It was already warm and sticky, and I was out of shape. I made it about two miles, then all but collapsed on the side of the road. Maggie walked back to me, looking pretty smug.
