Open House Heist

by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

  Jennifer Rawlings’ toxicology report came back clean, but it took over a month, so they could have had that conversation before it had. Besides, that only eliminated one portion of that theory. “She didn’t have any drugs in her system.”

  “I don’t trust those tests, besides, that doesn’t mean she wasn’t there.”

  I tucked that into a safe spot in my brain for later. “What about the suspects? Do you remember anything about them?”

  “Just that that poor Buford Jennings was one for a time. Man couldn’t squash a spider if you paid him, so I know he didn’t do it.”

  Belle wiped a drop of tuna salad from the corner of her mouth. “Jennings raised chickens for slaughter. I’m sure he could kill a bug.”

  Millie’s jaw tensed, and her eyes narrowed. Belle hit a nerve. “That was his job. You do what you got to do to make a living, and Buford lost everything because of them Covingtons.”

  I tapped Belle’s leg under the table. She ignored it and went back to her sandwich. “I heard there was some feuding between the two farms, but why do you think the Covington’s were to blame?”

  “You weren’t around then, and you probably don’t remember either family, but Clyde Covington? That man was an egg-suckin’ dog. Everyone knew he was stepping out on Clara, including her, and he didn’t give a rat’s behind about it neither. Ask Old Man Goodson. His good or nothing wife Ermajean was one of his victims, or partner in crime is more like it. Don’t know why Clara stayed with that man, or why Old Man Goodson stayed with his cheating wife. The Covingtons though, they got them some fancy new equipment, some fans or something, and when they stopped working right, the two of them blamed Jennings.” Her face reddened. “Said he’d deliberately broken them, but there ain’t no way that was possible. Jennings had a stroke and it damaged his right arm but good. Thing was practically useless for a time. Had to hire himself another farm hand to do the brunt of his work. Cost him an arm and a leg—” she caught herself, “excuse me for that—and along with the Covingtons stealing his business, his place went belly up. Nearly lost everything ‘cept for some investments that did him good. Buford was a good man, he didn’t need none of that happening to him. Deserved better, that’s for sure.”

  Belle caught my eye. If I’d read her expression right, which I assumed I had, she was thinking the same thing. “Millie, did you and Buford Jennings have a relationship?”

  She laughed that off, the laugh wasn’t genuine. “I’ve been a widow since 1978, and this café here’s kept me too busy for dating.” Her rosy cheeks called her out on the fib, but I didn’t mention it. If she wanted to say more, she would.

  Belle however, opened her big mouth. “I don’t know about that Millie. Your cheeks are flushed. There was something going on with you two back then, wasn’t there? Come on, Millie, don’t be shy. Spill it.”

  A splash of red as bright as freshly blossomed roses spread across Millie’s face. “No, no. I mean, there wasn’t.” She threw her hands in the air. “Well, you’ll probably hear about it anyway, but it wasn’t like that. We were friends, that’s all. Good friends, you know? He told me his troubles, and I told him mine. He lost his wife a few months before I lost my Bubba, and we had something in common ‘cause of it. But he had another small stroke and decided to move south of here.” She sighed. “Probably for the best. Neither of us had the time to give to the other anyway.”

  I placed my hand over Millie’s. “It’s never too late, Millie.”

  She blinked and the glossy tint in her eyes disappeared. “Heavens, Lilybit, I’m too old for that nonsense. My datin’ days are dead and buried.”

  Oh, no they weren’t, and I had a plan to prove that to her.

  Chapter 5

  Cranky and feeling guilty, Belle left Millie enough to cover the cost of our food plus an additional twenty for a tip. When we walked out, she was the first one to speak. “Okay, that was the last thing I needed to hear right now.”

  “What, you’re softening because of unrequited love?”

  She sniffed. “Well of course I am. Millie is one of the sweetest women I know. She deserves to be happy.”

  “We might be able to help her with that and help me with my investigation, too.”

  A sly smile formed on Belle’s face. “Talk to Jennings.”

  I nodded. “I’m heading there now, and I’ll bring you as long if you promise to behave.”

  She sighed. “Fine.” She clicked the button on her key fob. “I’ll drive. I don’t think I can tolerate your grandma driving speed.”

  “Ouch.”

  * * *

  We hit Highway 400 and it occurred to me I didn’t know which assisted living location Buford Jennings lived in.

  Belle pulled off at the first gas station and parked. “God bless woman, sometimes I think there are ants with bigger brains than yours.” She leaned her head back and sighed. “I’m sorry. This is a rough one, and I don’t know why.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her she wasn’t acting any different than any other time. Really, I was mostly just scared to say it. “Let me call Dylan. He’ll probably know. He’s the one that told me anyway.”

  “He’s at the one on Tribble Gap, on the left if you’re going toward downtown,” Dylan said.

  “How do you know this?”

  “It’s the same one my great uncle’s at. The one I go visit once a month.”

  Bingo! Dylan took me to visit his great uncle last month. I sat and chatted with the manager about how she’d wanted to put her home on the market. If she remembered me, she’d probably let us see Buford. If she didn’t, I’d just say I was Dylan’s fiancée coming to see his great uncle about the wedding. I thanked my wonderful fiancé for the info and told Belle my plan.

  She smiled. “You’re getting good at this, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. “It’s all those crime TV shows.”

  “Yup, they’re teaching you to fib. Your momma will be proud.”

  I dipped my head back into the seat. “Ugh, don’t I know it. I fibbed up a storm the other day and felt guilty as sin. It was awful, Belle. Just awful.”

  She laughed, and it was a good, full hearted laugh, which was surprising given her hormones. “Sweetie, you are the most honest person I know. If you fibbed to help someone, neither God nor your momma will be upset, so you’ll be fine. I promise.”

  A few minutes later we arrived at the apartment style assisted living and asked for the manager. If only I could have remembered her name, but it just wouldn’t come to me.

  The receptionist picked up the phone. “Sarah, there’s someone here to speak with you at the front desk.”

  I needed to buy a lottery ticket. My luck was on fire. I could at least act like I remembered her name.

  Sarah walked out of a door behind the front desk and smiled. “Oh, you’re the realtor dating Henry Roberts’ nephew, right?” She paused and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t remember your name.”

  I held out my hand. “Lily Sprayberry, and don’t worry, I couldn’t remember yours either.”

  She laughed. “We really should get better at that. It would benefit our businesses.”

  Belle thrust her hand out to Sarah. “I’m Belle Pyott, Lily’s business partner. I’m the one that usually remembers names for her.”

  That she did.

  “Nice to meet you, Belle. I need a partner like you.”

  “Sarah, is Buford Jennings one of your residents?” I asked.

  We walked over to the couches in the front parlor of the large building.

  “Buford? Yes, he’s been here since we opened. He’s a favorite around here.”

  I didn’t want to mention anything about Jennifer Rawlings, but Millie was an entirely different story. “We’re from Bramblett and just a bit ago we were having an early dinner at a place called Millie’s—”

  Her face lit up. “Millie’s. Buford talks about that place often.”

  “I bet he does,” Belle said.

  I
couldn’t help but smile. “Today we learned Buford and the owner Millie—well, at least Millie, had feelings for Buford. But she said he moved away and that was the end of that. If you would have seen her face though, she’s clearly not over him.”

  “Not in the least,” Belle said.

  “And we were thinking,” I paused, not sure of how to put it into words. I didn’t have to though. Sarah was already on board.

  “Oh, my word, that old man talks about her like she was the light of his life. Well, his life after his wife died, of course.”

  I smiled. “We were wondering if we could see him? Maybe offer to bring Millie here or something?”

  She practically jumped off the seat. “Oh, heck, yes you can.” She marched over to the reception desk. “He’ll be down in a bit for dinner, but we can get him now.” She leaned toward the reception desk. “Hannah please call Buford Jennings and ask him if he can come down to the lobby.”

  Buford Jennings wasn’t what I’d expected. The tall, boney man lacked the edge I thought necessary to commit murder, but then again, like Dylan said, thirty-five years could change a man, not to mention his life trials and medical condition. His gray face stubble wasn’t quite a beard, it just needed a bit of attention, as did his straggly unintentional mullet. He walked over to Sarah as she stood, and they hugged.

  “Buford, I’d like you to meet Lily Sprayberry and—” she smiled at Belle. “As I said, I’m horrible at remembering names, I apologize.”

  “Belle Pyott.”

  He stared at us with his brow raised and held angled to the left. “You’re from Bramblett. I recognize those last names.”

  I nodded as Sarah suggested we all sit. I noticed Buford Jennings use his left arm to support himself on the way down.

  “Buford, these ladies are friends of someone you know.”

  He continued to eye us with suspicion, and I worried the conversation wouldn’t go well. “Don’t know who these young kids would know that I’d give a hoot about no more.”

  Buford Jennings had quite the wall built around him. My heart went out to the old man, and I treaded carefully when I spoke, worried I’d lose him too quickly. “Mr. Jennings, our favorite place in Bramblett is Millie’s Café.”

  His eyes widened a bit, and my heart smiled. “Belle and I own a realty business in town just a few steps away and spend a lot of time there.”

  “We love Millie,” Belle said.

  I wanted to nudge her leg, but I didn’t want to be obvious. The last thing we needed was to blurt out Millie’s feelings, or what we thought they were, and freak out the man. “Mr. Jennings, we adore Millie. She is an amazing and strong woman, and a pillar in the community.”

  Belle agreed. “Ain’t that the truth. No one messes with Millie.”

  He laughed. “She always was a tough one, that Millie.”

  “Well, that definitely hasn’t changed.” I smiled and chose my next words carefully. “You came up in our conversation recently, and well, I think it would be wonderful if Millie and you spent some time together. I know she would just love to see you.”

  His body shifted on the soft couch. His shoulders straightened, and I noticed his chest expanded ever so slightly. The sparkle in his eyes though, that was the definitive giveaway to his true feelings, no matter what he said. “I haven’t thought about the woman in years. Can’t imagine she’d want to see me.”

  Sarah laughed heartily. “Now Buford, that is the biggest fib I’ve ever heard a man tell, and I’ve known a lot of men.”

  A smile stretched across his thin, wrinkled face. “You really think she’d like to visit?”

  “I am one hundred percent sure she would. She spoke very highly of you.”

  Belle pointed her finger at the old man and wiggled it in a circle. “And that face you’re making, the one all dreamy-eyed and sweet? She had the very same one. I think there’s a love match going on between the two of you.”

  Ah Belle. Who couldn’t love her way with words?

  Buford Jennings smoothed out a wrinkle on his over-sized shirt. “I might could get myself into the barber right quick. Could use a good shave.”

  Sarah rubbed the back of her fingers down his scruff. “If you can’t get in, I’d be happy to help you clear this muck up, Buford. I can even trim that ever-growing mullet you’ve got here.” She tugged lightly on his gray hair. “The 80s are long gone, big guy.”

  His pale cheeks blushed a rosy red and then his smile disappeared. “I don’t know. I’m old and worn, and my arm ain’t working like it should. Don’t think I’ve got much to offer nobody no more.”

  That was the biggest load of manure I’d ever heard, and I told him that, in a nice and respectable way. “Of course you have something to offer, and you especially have something to offer Millie. Do you know what that is?”

  He shook his head.

  “Your heart. That’s all a woman really wants, Mr. Jennings, a man’s heart. The rest of that stuff just comes along for the ride, and it’s not as important.”

  “She’s right. If I could find me a man that would give me his heart, I’d be the happiest girl alive,” Sarah said. “Don’t you worry about the rest.”

  Belle laughed. “I suspect Millie would say something similar about herself. So, what do you think? Should we bring her by to visit?”

  Millie could drive, but it wasn’t something we’d see her do much of, and we assumed it was mostly local. Besides, we had to find a way to convince her to come, knowing she’d be just as apprehensive as he was. “I think both of you will see things differently when you see each other again.”

  Sarah squeezed his knee. “What do you say, Buford? Time to get back on that horse again?”

  He bent his head down and stared at the tile floor. When he raised it again, the sweet smile from earlier returned. “Can you iron my Sunday clothes?”

  “I most certainly can,” Sarah said. “And if you can get into the barber, I’ll drive you there myself.”

  A few minutes later, after we’d made arrangements to follow up with a date, he hugged us both and then Sarah walked him back to his room. As he said goodbye, a small tear ran down his cheek, just like mine.

  Outside, Belle and I hugged. “Wow,” she said climbing into her car. “How great was that? My heart is racing. It’s like we’re cupid.”

  My heart raced too, but for two separate reasons. “How can I even bring up Jennifer Rawlings’ murder now? That would make everything we just did insincere.”

  Belle backed out of the parking space and headed toward the road. “It will not. You had a reason to come here, and it was an honest one. It just happens that you discovered their connection because of your interest in Jennifer Rawlings first. The fact that you didn’t bring that up today just proves what matters most to you, not that you’re being manipulative.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “I do, and they both will, too. Besides, if he’s innocent like that Deputy Pit-what’s-his-face thought, it won’t matter anyway.”

  I sighed. “And if he’s not, then I’ve just broken Millie’s heart all over again.”

  Belle blew out a breath. “We’ll figure out how to deal with it if we have to.”

  I knew Belle was right, but it didn’t stop the sense of dread overwhelming me.

  * * *

  Belle dropped me off in town promising to chat later on how we’d wrangle Millie into our plan. In the meantime, I struggled with what to do next, and decided to think about it over a sweet tea at a table outside Millie’s Café. It was late, but I knew she’d still be there in the back prepping the next day’s breakfasts. I was right. I caught a glimpse of her inside, so I ignored the closed sign hanging on the door.

  She popped the door open. “You packing a bag and moving in? I got me a cot in the back office if you need a place to stay.” Her smile was genuine.

  I chuckled. “Is there room service?”

  “Oh heck no. If anyone’s getting breakfast in bed, it’s me. These ol
d bones deserve it.”

  “They sure do.”

  Her brow furrowed.

  I waved my hands. “Oh, I didn’t mean—” I laughed. “Well, yeah, as a matter of fact, I did mean you’re an old coot.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “You just wait, your time is coming.”

  “Oh, trust me. Momma tells me that every time I talk to her.”

  “Do you some good to listen to her. Maybe get yourself a little moisturizer so you don’t get age lines like mine.”

  I owned several moisturizers, and in my opinion age lines were a sign of a life well lived. At least that’s the way I chose to think about them. My tone changed to a serious one. “Millie, can you chat for a few minutes?”

  She pulled off her apron. “Sure, let me get myself some sweet tea. You want some?”

  “I’d be a fool to say no.”

  She went back inside and returned with two glasses filled to the rim. “So, what’s on your mind?”

  “I’ve been thinking about Jennifer Rawlings again.”

  She sighed heavily and sat at the table. “Why’s this so important to you, sweetie? There something you’re not telling me?”

  I averted my eyes, not wanting to lie to someone I cared about.

  She patted my hand. “I’ll keep it between us.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “Mum’s the word,” she said, swiping her finger across her lips. “I’m so old I’ll probably forget we even talked anyway.”

  I seriously doubted that. Millie’s mind was a steel trap. It took things in and never forgot them, no matter what she tried to say. “Someone has asked me to look into the murder, and from what I’ve learned, Old Man Goodson was a suspect.” I wiped the corners of my eyes with my napkin. “Of course Dylan says it’s possible, and that anyone can be driven to commit murder, but I just don’t see it. And I’m afraid if I continue asking questions it’ll end up being the truth, and I’ll be responsible for ruining his life.”