Barbara Graham - Quilted 03 - Murder by Music (15 page)

The Trimbles were acting very peculiar. Theo witnessed lots of whispered conversations between the two of them and what looked like, from across the lobby, an intense and prolonged argument culminated by Beth Trimble stalking into the apartment and slamming the door behind her. Seconds later, she left the apartment, slamming the door behind her again, disappeared into the kitchen for a couple of minutes and returned to the apartment, carrying a heavy tray that held two bottles of wine along with a platter of something like nachos. After the door slammed the third time, Theo was sure everyone heard the lock clicking into place.

Art watched his wife from his perch near the front desk. When the last sound died, he turned to the gathering of quilters and smiled—a half-hearted smile to be sure—and announced that lunch would be served in about fifteen minutes. He went on to comment about how welcome the rain had been after so many days of sunshine. He pulled a paperback book out of a drawer and settled into a comfortable position and began to read, ignoring their curious faces.

As if realizing the argument between hotel proprietors followed a pattern well known by the players involved, it didn't receive any comment from the women.

Theo watched Martha pace in the lobby until Theo finally snapped at her. “They are going to have to arrest me for killing you if you don't settle down somewhere.” Theo paused to thread her needle. “You're wearing me and the carpet out.” She glanced over the top of her glasses at Tony's aunt. “No one thinks you've done anything wrong. Do you think you killed the woman in your sleep?”

Susan winked and pointed to an empty chair near her. “If you will sit and relax a while, I promise to bake you a cake with a hacksaw in it if you get arrested.”

“Even better would be a small appliqué project.” Dottie interjected. “A miniature Baltimore album quilt would fit into a cake and still keep her busy until she is out on parole.” Dottie moaned, her voice filled with fear. “All those tiny leaves and berries.”

Melissa leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. “I can see it now: a hollow cake filled with fabric, scissors, needles and thread. I can only hope someone will remember to include a package of chocolates. It might not be a bad life. Just think, no decisions about dinner menus, no mud tracked across the kitchen floor, no homework to check.” Opening her eyes, she looked at her friends. “Maybe I'll confess, and then I'll have enough time to work on my own projects.”

“You're all right.” Martha collapsed, laughing, onto her chair. “I didn't do anything to the woman and don't know why I've been acting like such a ninny.”

The retreat was moving ahead. Instead of working on her quilt, Theo rolled outside to call Tony. “Hey, lawman.” Her voice was cheery. “How are you doing?”

“Tired, beat, exhausted, confused.” There was a pause in his litany of weariness followed by a jaw-cracking yawn. “And you?”

Her answering yawn was much quieter. “I thought I'd better tell you a couple of things if you have the time.”

Tony finished talking to Theo and stepped out of his office. Most of his meager staff of deputies were doing paperwork. Time for the shift change. Although the talk was general, they were mostly subdued, and the fine lines of tension made them all look hard. Tony glanced at the clock on the wall. He couldn't believe he'd lost track of this entire day. He perched one hip on Ruth Ann's immaculate desk. Luckily for him, she didn't work Saturdays.

“I'm sure you have all heard by now, but Scarlet LaFleur was found dead at The Lodge early this morning. We do not have an official cause of death but it is a homicide.” Leaning forward, he looked from face to face. “Last night, because it was Friday, we had three cars out on patrol. I want each one of you to write down everything that you saw, heard or imagined. In town as well as out. I don't care how trivial you think it might be.” Rolling his shoulders didn't relieve any of his tension. Focusing on Sheila and Darren, who normally patrolled the area near The Lodge, he addressed them. “From you two, I want to know what vehicles you saw, what time you saw them, and if you noticed anything missing from anywhere. If you saw people, I want to know who they are and what they were doing. Give me a dead 'possum count.” With a yawn, he left the desk and poured himself a cup of coffee. His stomach rolled in protest, but he ignored it. He wondered if the rumor about Art, Claude and Darren's wife would surface.

Tony watched Sheila nod and begin writing. She didn't mention she'd been on duty all day just as most of them had. A lovely and extremely efficient young woman, she had been the first to arrive at The Lodge after Tony and Wade. As usual, her long blond hair was tightly braided and the tail pinned out of the way. Like everything about her, the report would be meticulous, from her elegant handwriting to her phrasing. Tony loved her reports. They were unfailingly coherent and comprehensive.

Seated next to her, Darren Holt, the bantam rooster of the staff, whose patrol should cross her path several times in the early evening but not later, looked at Sheila and suddenly turned pale. He fidgeted with his pen but didn't start writing. In fact, he looked ready to bolt from the room.

Very interesting. Tony thought.

Wade arrived, rumpled and wearing a mustard stain on his brown uniform shirt. Tony noticed Wade's name pin was missing. Tony was sure he didn't look any better.

Practically dragging his feet, Wade made his way to Tony's side, pausing only to greet his fellow officers. “I don't know about you, but I've gotten all kinds of calls from frightened citizens. Portia Osgood knows my number and has called me at least three times to report movement in the bushes around her house.” He swung his arms a bit, and Tony heard popping and cracking in his joints.

“Naturally the damned things are moving, the wind is blowing harder and the temperature has started dropping too.” Then, more quietly, for Tony's ears only, he said, “I was at Ruby's for lunch. She tells me that her crankiest customers are suddenly being easily satisfied, and a couple of them have even left tips. I tell you what, Sheriff, the diners there are certain someone is killing off the most annoying citizens in Silersville, and the murders have the others looking over their shoulders. No one seems to believe Mr. Beasley died of natural causes, and Ruby says she heard a couple of people talking about forming some kind of citizens' protection group. Since Scarlet LaFleur grew up here, she's classified as a local in many minds.”

Tony was sure if he had hair, he would be down to his last strand by now. The last thing he needed was a bunch of panicky cranks running amok in his county. Heaven only knew what kind of trouble they could create. He looked around and saw his officers diligently making notes. Some were checking times in their notebooks. Even as he was filling Wade in about his morning at The Lodge, he noticed Darren's odd behavior. Darren was erasing more than he was writing, and Sheila seemed to be egging him on about something. As Tony approached, Sheila stood and walked to the coffeepot. She indicated with a movement of her head he should follow her. Tony followed. Darren was close on their heels.

“I have to tell you—” Sheila began but was cut off by Darren.

“No, I have to be the one to tell you.”

Tony was intrigued. The look Darren gave Sheila was a cross between belligerence and a plea. Then his eyes met Tony's. “Can we talk in your office?” Evidently satisfied, Sheila filled her cup and walked off.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Darren dropped into a chair and covered his face with his hands. “I don't know what came over me, Sheriff. I swear nothing like it ever happened before and if you don't fire me, I swear it will never happen again.” His shoulders heaved and a shudder wracked his whole body.

Tony didn't like the way this sounded. “You'd better go ahead and tell me.” Darren had never been Tony's favorite officer, but he had never caused any trouble either. Twice divorced from the same woman, he was a reasonably attractive man now married to a different woman. He and the hairstylist, Prudence Sligar, had married only a few months earlier and were parents of a new baby. All the information he'd heard said Darren was a good stepfather to Prudence's brood of fatherless children.

Darren finally lifted his face and met Tony's inquiring gaze. “Sheila is going to report she saw my patrol car parked on the big turnout just below The Lodge.” Pressing his lips tightly together, he turned his face away from Tony. His hands were clasping and unclasping as if they had a life of their own. His Adam's apple was bobbing up and down at the same rate.

Arms crossed over his chest, Tony stared at him. He wasn't getting it. Why should parking in the turnout cause so much distress? Unless? “Tell me you're not sleeping on the job.”

“Uh,” Suddenly Darren's face was brick red, and there was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. He shook his head violently from side to side. “Worse.” Instead of looking into Tony's eyes, his eyes seemed to be focused on the coffee stain on the carpet. They flickered to Tony's face and fell again. “I swear it was the only time.”

“What exactly did you do and who were you doing it with?” Jamie and Chris would have recognized his tone of voice. Even Theo rarely ignored it.

“Sir, I'm sorry.” Darren looked more like a teenager who got caught necking in the park than the cocky man he seemed on a normal day. “I was with Prudence. She, um, that is we were, um, you know.” Amazingly, his face managed to turn even redder.

Struck speechless for the moment by the mental picture of Darren and Prudence doing the “you know” in the patrol car, Tony blinked several times. His first thought was how much Theo was going to love this story. His momentary flash of amusement was quickly replaced by anger. This man had not been doing his duty to the community paying his salary. What if he could have prevented the death of one of its citizens if he had been on patrol? “Were you in the county car?” Ice was much warmer than his question.

The horrified expression on Darren's face was almost answer enough. “No, sir. We were in her car.” His babbling answer seemed to jump from his lips. Then he slammed them together and held them closed while he moaned deep in his throat. Obviously, he was suddenly unsure whether it was worse he had left his car or if it would have been worse if they had stayed in it. “I swear nothing like this has ever happened before. I'm not even sure what happened.”

Tony felt his eyebrows shoot up. He leaned forward and snapped, “You're married to her. Couldn't you just go to your own bed? After your shift?”

“Oh, no sir. It was not like that at all. We didn't plan to meet.” He sighed. A half smile lifted the corners of his mouth. At least it did until he glanced in Tony's direction. Then he straightened both his face and his spine.

“Heaven help me for asking this, but if you didn't plan to meet there, how did it happen? The turnout isn't exactly on the way to everywhere.” In fact, Tony knew, with the encroaching forest, the turnout was practically invisible at night.

“I know.” Darren closed his eyes. “I saw Prudence's car parked there. It was well off the road, and there wasn't any flat tire on the side that I could see.” His eyes flew open. “She wasn't in the car. Right after I pulled up, she came out of the woods and stopped as soon as she saw me. I got out of the car to talk to her, and I swear I don't know how, but the next thing I knew we were in her car, and . . .” His voice tapered to a stop.

“I know working nights can be a trial for some families, but you were derelict.” Tony reached for the antacid bottle instead of Darren's neck. “I'm not sure yet what I intend to do about this.” Disciplining an officer for an infraction like this one was nothing he'd ever had to deal with before. Tony thought a good idea would probably be to buy advice from ex-Sheriff Winston with a six pack, but right now he needed all of his officers, and Darren was reasonably capable. “What else did you see?”

Anxious to atone, Darren began a recitation of events. “There was a bit of traffic early. I saw quite a few cars from out of state and out of county going both ways and parked in the turnoffs as well. I ticketed a couple of out-of-state residents for dumping trash in one and made them clean it up. I didn't recognize most of the cars, parked or moving. But you know, now that I think about it, parked in one of the earlier turnoffs but still within walking distance of The Lodge, was Marmot the Varmint's car/truck.”

“Was there any reason for you to stop there?”

“No.” Darren gulped air, making his Adam's apple jump. “I don't have a good relationship with Claude.” He gulped again. “The vehicle was parked in a safe and legal manner. I assumed that Claude was sleeping inside, which I figured was better than him driving.”

“I understand.” Tony could visualize the road. It was winding through heavily wooded areas, but there were no hairpin turns. The higher you went, the more turnoffs had been built into the road. The tourists liked to be able to pull off and take pictures without dodging cars, although they preferred the valley side. The road was also popular with couples. Tony flinched away from the mental picture of Darren and Prudence. “When you came back down the road after your, um, encounter with your wife, was Claude's car/truck still parked there?”

“No. It was gone. In fact, all of the turnoffs were empty as I came down.” Darren was back in control of himself again.

“So, let me get this straight. You didn't plan to meet Prudence but stopped when you saw her car? What was she doing up there if not waiting for you?”

Darren sat speechless and slowly moved his head back and forth. His eyes were very wide.

Tony sent Darren to finish his written report and considered the chances that Prudence strangled Scarlet. Prudence was taller, younger and, as an arm wrestling champion, much stronger than the victim. Tony didn't believe Prudence was their killer.

Theo was being bombarded with questions. She shook her head to all of them not involved with quilting. Did people think she shared a brain with Tony? The idea made her chuckle, and she relaxed back into her chair. A part of her wondered if there was really any point at all in their staying at The Lodge. Certainly this was not the most relaxing or productive of their retreats. A quick glance around the lobby made her change her mind.