A Violent End at Blake Ranch (27 page)

CHAPTER 26

When I get in my pickup, I sit contemplating what kind of secret would make a family turn inward. Shame might do it, but it seems they were like that before Nonie's dreadful act. I'm trying to think what I might not want people to know about me. I don't have any peculiar sex habits, but if I did, I suspect I wouldn't want anybody to know. Beyond that, my family history isn't all that savory, but there'd be no point in my hiding out because of it—and John and Adelaide don't have any notorious relatives that I know of. I don't see signs that any of them are addicted to drugs or alcohol. The one thing that might make me want to be discreet with others is money matters. I don't mind if people know that my wife and I inherited money from her family and that it left me comfortable—better than comfortable. But I wouldn't want people knowing the particulars.

I remember that I intended to talk to Les Moffitt again to find out if there's something about the Blakes' financial situation that they don't want known. Moffitt is the only outsider I know who seems to be on good terms with the family—as well as being their financial guru. I call him and tell him I'm on my way to see him. Before I can put the key in the ignition, my phone rings.

“Samuel, did you go by the office and get Frazier?” Ellen's voice is high with tension.

“Yes, I've been by there. The dog isn't with me at the moment. He took a liking to the new deputy I told you about, Maria Trevino. Frazier is riding around with her this afternoon.”

“He'll like that. He loves to ride in the car.”

“Zeke said you told him your daughter needed you. Is she all right?”

“She called me from the hospital this morning. She was walking into work, and somebody had spilled something that made the tiles slippery. She fell and broke her leg in two places.”

“Oh, my.” I feel guilty because I was a little jealous of her daughter.

“When I got here, they had her in surgery. She's out now and they said she'll be fine. I'm sorry I left the dog with you without asking. I was so flustered I didn't know what to do.”

“It's not a problem. Take your time.”

“So much for not canceling my classes. I feel foolish, since I made a fuss about not wanting to do that when you asked me to go to Tyler with you.”

“Your daughter has to be more important to you. And as it turns out, it was better for you not to come along anyway. The trip took longer than I thought it would. You would have been stuck with nothing to do while I worked on some things.”

“Did you find out what you needed to know about the Blake girl?”

“I did. You're not going to believe this. The woman who was killed was not Nonie Blake.”

“That's bizarre. Who was she?” I can tell she's tired and distracted and making an effort to sound interested.

“We'll talk about it when you come back. Don't worry about the dog. We'll get along fine. What about his food?”

“I must be losing my mind. I didn't even think about that.”

“You have a spare key somewhere? I can go in and get it.”

“It's so stupid. I haven't given anybody a spare key. It's only been a short time since I moved in, and I haven't thought about it.”

I ask her what kind of dog food he eats and tell her I'll go buy the food. I don't tell her my worst fear, that my cat Zelda will terrorize the dog.

Les Moffitt doesn't act like he has any problem with me questioning him again. In fact, he seems happy to see me until I break the news that Nonie Blake was not the murder victim.

“Then who was it?” he says. I'm always interested in how long it takes somebody to ask that question. He cuts right to the chase.

“A woman by the name of Susan Shelby.”

He frowns and shakes his head slowly. “I don't believe I know who that is. Is she from around here?”

“No, she's from east Texas.”

“Have you talked to the Blakes? Didn't they realize it wasn't Nonie? Why did they let the woman stay there?” His voice trails away, and his jowls sink as he realizes how much it all doesn't make sense.

“That's the question, isn't it? Adelaide says she didn't know her, but that she thought it wasn't Nonie. And still she didn't call the law. I'm trying to pin down why that's so. You have any ideas?”

“Me? How would I know? Like I said, I only met her briefly, and I've never met Nonie, so I wouldn't have any idea that it wasn't her.”

“What I mean is, do you have any ideas why they let the woman stay if they realized she wasn't Nonie?”

He has an odd expression on his face. Not exactly calculating but headed in that direction. He straightens up a couple of pens on his desk before he speaks. “You said Adelaide knew. Did Charlotte know, too?”

“I'm having trouble figuring out exactly who knew what. John is the one who seems to have instinctively known right away that the woman wasn't his daughter.”

“John.” He sighs. “Whatever he knew, you can't count on it.”

“I'll tell you what I think, and you can chime in. I suspect that this woman had some dirt on the family that they don't want known. You have any idea what it could be?”

Moffitt looks decidedly uneasy. “I don't understand why you'd think I'd know. I'm their financial advisor, not their confessor.”

“I'm wondering if whatever this woman knew about them had to do with their finances. Any idea?”

Moffitt raises his eyebrows. “Like I said before, I can't go into the details, but I can say they were better off before the economy went all to hell.” He pauses. “You're not suggesting that I've been up to something funny with regard to their finances, are you? Because I'm telling you, I'm on the up-and-up. I'll open my business to scrutiny by any auditor or federal overseer.”

“Calm down. I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm curious to know where they got money to begin with, though. I've been acquainted with the Blake family for a long time, and as far as I know there wasn't any money in the background. And Adelaide's mother was a single parent whose husband died in Korea.”

Moffitt's eyes suddenly shift. The comment hit some kind of nerve, but in what way?

“Did Adelaide's mother inherit money and leave it to her?” I ask.

He starts to speak, considers, and then says, “All I know is that the initial money they started with came from her side of the family. I assumed she inherited it. I didn't feel like I needed to pry.”

“I thought a financial advisor was obliged to make a good-faith effort to make sure money they were investing for people came from legitimate sources.”

“Come on.” He spreads his hands wide. “I mean, Adelaide didn't strike me as somebody who made a bundle selling drugs. I didn't feel like I had to dig into her background.”

“How much money are we talking about?”

“I can't really disclose that. I'll tell you it wasn't millions, but it was enough to keep them comfortable if they invested it properly—which I saw to it that they did.”

“How long ago was this?”

He flips to the back of the folder on his desk. “Like I said, they came to me around twenty years ago.”

The first time I met Ellen Forester's dog, Frazier, he was a trembling mess, traumatized by Ellen's ex-husband, who had come to her house and caused a big ruckus. Now the dog is positively serene, perched up on the seat next to me in my pickup, looking around outside as if he's never known a care in the world. Wait until he meets Zelda.

“You behave yourself,” I say, as we walk up the steps to my house. I have him on a leash, and he's prancing at my side.

Zelda always comes to greet me when I get home. I presume she hears the truck drive up and knows that I bring the possibility of food. Today when she walks from the direction of the kitchen into the front room, she stops cold and ponders Frazier. He lets out a muffled whine.

“It's probably best if you keep quiet,” I say. He sits.

Zelda lofts her tail high in the air and walks right up to Frazier and looks at him. He quivers but keeps quiet. She puts her nose up to his for a quick sniff and then turns around and strolls out of the room. The dog looks up at me and I look at him and we both relax. “You better stay here while I feed her,” I say. “You challenge her food dish, and I'll be returning a dead dog to Ellen.”

Frazier settles to the floor. He can't possibly know what I said, but he sure acts like he does.

I put food down for Zelda and then try to figure out where to feed the dog. I decide it's best to put him on the front porch, tied up. He seems to think there's no problem with that as long as he gets food and water. When he's done eating he whines, and when I let him in he keeps a wary eye out for Zelda.

I've got work to do on my computer, so after I have a bite to eat, I settle down at my desk. Zelda jumps up onto her usual spot crowding the computer, and Frazier eases himself down next to my chair. At least for now, we've got peace.

These days when I need to find out background on somebody, I usually have success on the Internet. But when I enter Lilah Cousins's name, I come up with nothing but her date of death and the name of her husband, Aaron.

It's when I start researching Aaron that things get interesting. He is listed as a veteran of the Korean War, but unlike what Lilah claimed, he wasn't killed in the war.

In old police records, I find that when Cousins was a teenager, he was a rowdy who got into all kinds of petty trouble. He was arrested for stealing a car and joyriding, and for stealing a carton of cigarettes. He was also arrested for assault, a charge that was later dropped. When he was twenty years old he upped the ante and took part in a fraud scheme. Apparently he and two other young men went door to door in small towns, getting down payments on nonexistent sets of classic books. Shortly after he was arrested for this, he went into the army. My guess is that a judge gave him a choice of going to jail or enlisting in the army.

His date of death is almost two years after the end of the war. Finally I find out the information that Lilah kept quiet so the citizens of Jarrett Creek wouldn't know. Aaron was killed during the attempted robbery of a bank in Kilgore. I remember when I said to Les Moffitt that Adelaide's daddy was killed in the war, he got funny look on his face. Did he know the truth? Does he know more than he's saying?

I don't know why Lilah chose Jarrett Creek in particular to settle down with her young daughter, but she probably knew that in a small town many miles from her home, no one would question her if she said her husband was killed in action.

I settle back to think. Frazier sits up, and I idly stroke his head. It's an interesting coincidence that Nonie Blake settled in east Texas, not that far from where her granddaddy was killed in a robbery. I don't believe in coincidence. Did Adelaide tell Nonie that's where her folks were from? Why would she do that after Lilah was so careful to keep it secret? Nonie was only fourteen and liked to tell tales at school. Wouldn't Adelaide be afraid that Nonie would tell enough to pique somebody's interest in the family's background?

But maybe Adelaide didn't tell Nonie at all. People said that Nonie was a sneak. “Maybe she poked around in her mother's papers and discovered the background for herself,” I say to Frazier. He looks puzzled, but his tail wiggles.

CHAPTER 27

After spending last night and this morning researching Aaron Cousins, I've got a much clearer idea of what I'm after.

I find Charlotte outside looking at the drained pond. She turns when I call out to her. When I get to her side, she looks back at the muddy silt. “This is going to be a mosquito haven. I'm thinking we ought to have it filled in with dirt.”

“I wouldn't. It's nice having water on a property.”

“I suppose. But after what happened here . . .”

“Charlotte, where did the incident with Nonie take place?”

“Right here at the pond.” She points to the old stump next to the sycamore. “It was that tree. Daddy cut it down within the week.”