To Fetch a Killer

by Maria Hudgins

  Cassidy chose one of the padded chairs in the front room. The décor hadn’t changed much since Bev opened the salon about fifteen years ago.

  “Hey, how did your rummage sale go yesterday?” Margaret yelled from the back room. “My friend Pam and I stopped by around lunch and picked up some cute decorations for the holidays.”

  “We had a good crowd all day, and the sellers did well. I think I may do a craft show in the spring,” Cassidy said, hoping Margaret heard her over the dryer.

  Margaret nodded and smiled under the dryer’s bullet-shaped helmet. Rita and Lila continued their chat at the styling station.

  “Cassidy, did I hear that someone died from an accident at your place this weekend?” Bev asked. Chatter halted, and all eyes were on Cassidy. The only sound in the room was the hum of Margaret’s dryer.

  “Yes, it was unfortunate. We found one of the sellers in his booth.”

  “I heard he was crushed to death by his own furniture,” Margaret said, a little too loudly. “What a terrible tragedy.”

  “Word on Facebook is that he was murdered. A friend who lives near the Silvers out on Grub Hill Church Road said the police have been by several times. They don’t usually do that on TV for just an accident,” Ellie said in a more hushed tone.

  Lila checked Margaret’s hair and moved her to one the black chairs in front of the mirrors. “Herb was monitoring his police scanner this weekend, and he said that the police are leaning toward murder,” Margaret said, nodding.

  Ellie’s eyebrows shot up higher than her platinum bangs, and Cassidy felt the stares of all the women.

  “I don’t know any details, but the police were back at the track this morning,” Cassidy said.

  “Herb said it was the forensic team. Ooooh, they were out there doing CSI stuff. How exciting,” Margaret added. “Cassidy, you had front row seats. Tell us all about it. We want details. And I’m so glad you didn’t have to cancel your event.”

  She pasted a plastic smile on her face. “They were at the track several times. I don’t have much information. They took a lot of samples and pictures. I decided to go on with the sale since the police cleared the site the night before.”

  “That would have been a big deal to contact all those people.” Ellie made a tsking sound.

  “Life goes on,” Margaret added.

  “I talked to Mrs. Silver and her grandson. Any of you all know Ron or Pearl Silver? Or Zac?” Cassidy asked.

  “Like I said, my friend, Kathy Struthers, lives out near them. I heard they keep to themselves. Pearl’s people are from here, and she went to high school with my older brother. I don’t know where she met Ron, but he’s from somewhere in New York. They moved back here a while back. Not sure about his relatives. He bought that place on Route 360. They’ve owned that for years.”

  “Zac and his friends are regulars at the Tipsy Pig,” Lila said.

  “What do you know about Zac?” Cassidy asked.

  “Besides tall and handsome.” Lila giggled. “He plays a lot of pool and drinks beer. He’s had some odd jobs since school, but mainly he hangs around the honkytonks and cruises around in his red truck. He’s been working with his grandfather lately up at that furniture store.”

  A dark look crossed Bev’s face.

  Margaret added, “I’ve been to their store. It’s that place on the hill with all the windows. If you’re willing to listen to Ron’s babbling, you can find good deals on solid furniture. Not that stuff you have to glue together yourself. Herb and I got a real nice cherry TV stand and shelves there.”

  “Come on back,” Lila said to Cassidy. “I’ll do your wash, and you’ll be up next after Margaret’s done.”

  The conversation shifted to recommendations for shows to stream and the latest romantic scandals in town. It seemed the choir director of the House of Prayer out on the bypass got caught with one of the sopranos who wasn’t his wife, and Jerry, the realtor, was getting married for the third time in Las Vegas. Nobody wanted odds that it would last.

  Not gleaning any more gossip on the Silvers, Cassidy admired her new ’do in the mirrors and paid Bev at the front register. “Thanks for squeezing me in.”

  “My pleasure. You pop in anytime. And tell Henry not to be a stranger. I haven’t seen him in ages. Tell him to call me if he’s looking for a home-cooked meal.” Bev winked and handed Cassidy her change.

  On her way home, Cassidy swung into the Food Lion and scoured the produce section for some sort of gift. Not seeing any fruit baskets, she settled on a box of dark chocolates. She breezed through the checkout line and returned to her Jeep. She made a detour from her normal route home and pulled into Silver’s Classic Furniture. The neon sign next to the door flashed PEN.

  The smell of mothballs and ammonia greeted her when she opened the glass door that set off a shrill squeal.

  Pearl dodged end tables and dressers and waddled to the front. “Good morning. Hey, you lookin’ for furniture?”

  “I thought I would stop by to see how you and your family are doing. This is for you.” Cassidy handed her the box of chocolates.

  “Hmmm. Dark chocolate. Zac will like these. He eats anything. Zac, the gal from the racetrack is here,” she hollered.

  After some scuffling, Zac poked his head around a large bedroom suite.

  “She brought this for you.” Pearl handed him the box of chocolates.

  “Thanks. Candy’s always good.” He tore off the plastic wrap and shoved one in his mouth. “Folks from town brought all kinds of food. We’ll be eating good for a long time. Too bad Grandpa missed it. He would have loved all the pies.”

  Pearl made a harumphing sound and returned to the counter where she busied herself with a dust cloth. “And don’t ruin your lunch with all that chocolate. It’s not good for your skin either.”

  Zac rolled his eyes and popped another piece in his mouth.

  “I wanted to stop by and pay my respects. Is there anything you all need help with?” Cassidy asked.

  “Nah, we’re fine. I’m staying with Grandma Pearl now. Like I said, we’ve got enough food for weeks,” Zac said.

  “Any word on the funeral arrangements?” she asked.

  Pearl cleared her throat and continued to dust when they stared at her.

  “We’re going to have him cremated and his ashes scattered at sea. People have been stopping by the house and calling. We’re not going to have a formal service. He wouldn’t have wanted that,” Zac said.

  “Was he in the military?” Cassidy stared at Zac’s deep brown eyes.

  “Nah, he liked going on cruises.” Zac smiled and his deep dimples gave him a boyish look.

  “If they really want to help, they’d come by the store and shop. That’s what they can do if they really mean their condolences. I’m already tired of potato salad,” Pearl muttered and disappeared into the backroom.

  “Don’t mind her. She’ll be back to her old self in a couple of days. The police have been back at the house several times already, and I think it’s getting on her nerves. Thanks for the candy.”

  As Cassidy turned to leave, he continued, “A bunch of us are getting together tomorrow night at the Tipsy Pig if you want to come out. My friend Marv’s band is playing.”

  “A celebration for your grandfather?”

  “Uh, nah. Marv’s band has a gig.” A puzzled look crossed Zac’s face. “Three-dollar shots during happy hour...”

  “I’ll see if I can make it.” Cassidy scooted out to the Jeep and let out a long breath when she slid into the driver’s seat. Did he ask me out when I came by to pay my respects? Is he a jerk?

  Two police cruisers pulled into the lot as she turned onto the main road. Pearl was not going to be happy about that. Cassidy resisted the urge to turn around. She had probably already worn out her welcome.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Cassidy changed outfits several times and finally landed on an aqua sweater and leggings. She put on the earrings she’d bought from Marti and headed to her c
loset to find a pair of comfortable boots.

  With no new updates on Ron Silver, she decided to swing by the Tipsy Pig to see is she could learn anything from Zac and his friends. She added more makeup than normal and curled her long hair into loose spiral curls.

  Eight o’clock, and the Tipsy Pig’s lot was already full. She wiggled out of her coat and looped her hobo bag over her shoulder. The chilly breeze caused her to quicken her pace to the front of the building where several patrons smoked or vaped on the long wooden porch. The place had started out as a family restaurant and had morphed in the early nineties into a honkytonk when line dancing was popular.

  The hostess stamped Cassidy’s hand and let her enter without a cover charge. It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to the dimness of the club, lit mainly by the neon rope lights bordering the bar and stage.

  “What can I get for you?” the blond bartender with the goatee asked when Cassidy hopped on a barstool near the corner.

  “Ginger ale for now,” she said.

  She scanned the room. Four guys played pool in the back, and most of the tables surrounding the dance floor and stage were full.

  “Here you go,” the bartender said, sliding the glass in front of her.

  “How much do I owe you?”

  He shook his head. “Come back later for something stronger. I’ll charge you then.” He winked.

  Cassidy nodded and dropped a five in the tip jar.

  “What brings you out this way on a weeknight? I haven’t seen you in here before,” the bartender asked as he wiped down the taps.

  “I came to see the band.”

  He laughed, and his eyebrows furrowed. “The band? Don’t want to burst your bubble, but it’s Marv on guitar, and his girlfriend on tambourine.”

  “Oh, I must have heard Zac wrong. He told me to stop in tonight to see his friend’s band.”

  “Zac the furniture guy?” The bartender laughed. “I wouldn’t put too much stock in his recommendations. He’s full of a lot of hot air. Hope you enjoy the show. Don’t set the bar too high.” The bartender turned to talk to a waitress who dropped her empty tray on the counter.

  Cassidy wandered toward the back, dodging people and elbows. She spotted Zac leaning on a pool cue.

  “Hey, you came,” he said, straightening up. A grin brightened his face. The other guys at the pool table stopped and stared.

  “I had to see the great band,” Cassidy replied.

  The guys around the pool table snickered.

  “How’s your family doing?” Cassidy asked.

  A puzzled look crossed Zac’s face. “Fine. Life goes on.”

  Cassidy tried not to roll her eyes at his casualness.

  “Can I get you a drink?” He handed his pool cue to the guy next to him. “Finish this for me.”

  “I’m good.” Cassidy held up her glass.

  Zac laughed and raised one eyebrow. “I bet you are. Wanna go find a table? Marv should be up soon. And these losers don’t have anything interesting to say.”

  One guy flipped him the bird as Cassidy followed him to a table with two mismatched wooden chairs. Zac signaled the waitress and ordered two beers.

  A youngish guy with a bushy black beard and receding hairline stepped on stage and shaded his eyes. He tapped the microphone several times and blew into it. Feedback squealed and echoed in through the speakers. The crowd groaned. He tapped the microphone again and continued, “Hey, thanks for coming out tonight. I’m Marv, and this is Tina. And we’re the Psychedelic Strummers.” A pixie of a girl jumped on the stage with her pink hair and tambourine.

  The pair launched into what Cassidy thought was a Coldplay song, and that morphed into a string of older country hits. Tina played the ukulele for a few songs and then switched back to her tambourine.

  After an hour of Marv’s offkey crooning and no conversation from Zac, Cassidy rose. “It’s been fun, but I’ve got to head out. I’ve got an early morning at the track.” What a bust. And no opportunity to talk to his friends.

  “You gotta leave now?” Zac slurred. “The dancing hasn’t started yet.”

  “Sorry to miss it, but my day starts before dawn. Stuff to do. Thanks for the invite. It was an interesting evening.” Cassidy wended her way through the crowd to the front door. The chilly night air was a welcome change from the stuffy bar filled with smells of stale beer and sweaty people. She hustled across the dimly lit, empty lot.

  Crunching gravel behind her made her pick up her pace. The sound of footsteps approaching made her heart beat faster. The Jeep sat three rows away.

  She turned. Zac skidded to a stop next to her. He paused to catch his breath. “Hey, are you sure you have to leave now? The party hasn’t started yet. Come on back, and I’ll buy you a drink. We could have some fun.”

  “I’ll take a raincheck,” Cassidy said.

  Zac paused.

  “Maybe another time. I really do have to get home and check on Oliver.”

  “If you have to. I guess you do if it’s your kid.”

  Choosing not to explain, she said, “See ya around.” She walked quickly to the Jeep, climbed in, and locked the door.

  “I’ll call you next week,” he hollered before she fired up the engine and sped out of the lot.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Cassidy updated her website and worked on the track’s next newsletter while Oliver snored not so quietly in his bed next to her desk. She stood and stretched to ward off the kink in her back.

  Her phone rang, and she glanced at the number she didn’t recognize.

  “Cassidy? This is Zac. Can you talk?” He sounded breathless.

  “What’s up?”

  “The cops showed up at Grandma Pearl’s house this morning at six and hauled me in for questioning. They just let me go, and I need someone to talk to. I haven’t eaten today. Wanna meet me? I was hoping to talk to you.”

  Cassidy blew out a breath she hoped he didn’t hear. “Where are you?”

  “The Isle of Capri on Route 360. Can you meet me there?”

  “Be there in a little bit.”

  “I’ll get a table. See ya.” Zac clicked off.

  Cassidy slipped on her shoes and leashed Oliver to take him home. “I’ll try to remember to bring home a doggie bag.” She patted him on the head.

  After getting Oliver settled at home, Cassidy plopped in the driver’s seat of her Jeep. She headed to the Route 360, the main artery through the county and points west. About ten minutes later, she pulled into a parking spot in front of the family-owned Italian restaurant. The building had begun its life as a house. Owners through the years had added on a variety of additions until the building was a mishmash of different architectural styles. Even though the parts didn’t seem to go together, it was the best place in the tri-county area for pizza and cannoli.

  Tiny brass bells jingled when she opened the front door. “Hi, Erlene,” Cassidy said to the woman with lavender hair behind the counter. “Long time no see.”

  “Hey, hon. Grab a seat anywhere, and I’ll be right with you.”

  Cassidy looked around the restaurant and spotted Zac in a corner shoveling in meatloaf and mashed potatoes. He took a momentary break to wave her over as he continued to eat.

  She pulled out the wooden chair across from him.

  “Hey, thanks for coming.” His hair stood up on one side and his long-sleeved T-shirt looked like he had slept in it.

  Before Cassidy could comment, Erlene popped over to the table. “Hey, sugar. What can I get for you?”

  “May I get a side salad with Italian and an iced tea?”

  Erlene scratched on her order pad. “Be back in a flash. How’s Henry doing? I haven’t seen him around lately.”

  “He’s doing well. He stays busy. I don’t see much of him lately either. His social calendar is way better than mine.”

  Erlene winked. “Tell him not to be a stranger. We’ve always got a slice of his favorite pie waiting.”

  Uncle Henry has a fan club
.

  When Erlene retreated to the front counter, Cassidy asked, “So what happened this morning?”

  “My grandma woke me up at the butt crack of dawn. The detective and the deputy were banging on the front door. They took me down to the station for questioning. I didn’t even have time for a shower or breakfast. Not even coffee. They disrespected me.” Zac shoved another forkful in his mouth and wiped the gravy dribble with the back of his hand.

  “Did you call your lawyer?”

  “Nah. They said they only had a few questions, but it went on for close to four hours. That’s abuse. Especially when I had nothing to do with it. I thought a piece of furniture fell on him and killed him.”

  Cassidy furrowed her brows. “What did the police tell you?”

  “He had traces of poison in his system. They kept asking me about the antifreeze in the garage. How should I know? It belonged to my grandfather. I don’t know what he has stored out there or in the attic. They wanted to know every minute of my life the week before he died. I’m exhausted. After this, I’m going back to bed.”

  “What else did the police ask you?” Cassidy sat back in her chair as Erlene dropped off her lunch and drink.

  “Let me know if you need anything else. Young man, you need another Pepsi?”

  Zac nodded. “They wanted to know who had been in the house recently. They also asked about his mood. I told them same as always. Bad. The man was permanently grumpy. Then they wanted to know about a bunch of arguments that someone told them we had had.”

  Erlene put the soft drink in front of Zac and lingered longer than necessary. When Zac stared at her, she hustled to another table.

  After she’d disappeared, Zac continued, “Sheesh. All families fight. We had a lot of discussions. He didn’t like how I did things. He always had something to say about everything I did. It always had to be his way.” Zac rolled his eyes.

  “Who do you think told the police?” she asked.

  “Who knows. They said they’ve talked to a lot of people. Did they interview you?”

  She nodded. “The police didn’t say much. Any idea who could have poisoned him?”