Barbara Graham - Quilted 03 - Murder by Music (31 page)

“Did you notice any reason she wouldn't want to give the house to Patrick as it was? Were there termites or mold or rot?”

“Nope. She just said she wanted it torn down to the dust or she'd burn it.”

Ruth Ann waved a hand in Tony's direction. Either she was drying her fingernails or wanted to attract his attention. The phone pressed to her ear made him think it was the latter.

“Here he is now. I know he'll be happy to talk to you.” She extended the receiver and mouthed “Frank Thomas.”

Not sure he'd agree to the “happy” part, Tony accepted the phone call. “Frank?”

“You know them coveralls you was asking about?”

“Yes.” Tony decided Ruth Ann was physic. He was delighted by the call and didn't even know why.

“Well, the oddest thing happened.” Frank coughed into the phone. “They're back. I found them folded all neat-like this morning on the clean stack.”

“Have they been washed? Are they clean?” Had the killer taken the time to do the laundry before returning the stolen item?

“Nossir. They's just as dirty as can be.”

“Don't touch them. I'll be right over.” Tony tossed the receiver to Ruth Ann and headed for his parking bay. He snapped his fingers. “Wade, come.”

It took them maybe three minutes to drive to the garage, where they found Frank and Joe Thomas staring at the stack of coveralls. Sure enough, there was a dirty pair on the top of the stack. Each of the mechanics held clean ones. Tony could feel himself grinning. A stupid move on the part of their killer.

Wade was smiling too. “Not above committing murder, but too honest to steal coveralls?”

“Says a lot, doesn't it?” Tony pulled three large bags from the back of the Blazer. “We need to take the dirty one, the one under it and whichever of those”—he pointed to the ones clutched in grimy hands—“whichever one was on the top.”

Joe Thomas placed his coveralls into the bag like he was delivering a holy relic. “How'd whoever it was get in to put the coveralls there?”

“Excellent question, Joe. Any ideas?” Tony glanced around the interior of the garage. Besides the big overhead door, there were three normal doors. One opened into the office. One for the restroom. One on the front of the building, next to the overhead.

Joe just shook his head.

Frank rubbed his chin and glanced up at the ceiling. “Well, we was both gone for a while this morning. Had to haul a big rig out of a ditch up near the national park.”

“Don't you lock up?” said Wade.

“We lock the office.” Joe glared. “Only at night do we lock it all.”

Concerned by the plight of the Bainbridge sisters, Theo called Tony. The news was good. The ladies had arrived mid-morning, well rested. They had carried with them a packet of Emery's papers, per his instructions to them, which they had forgotten all about in their sorrow and panic. Tony and Doc Nash had sifted through the papers while the ladies sipped tea and charmed Ruth Ann. It turned out that Emery had been a fine, if somewhat overprotective, older brother. He had purchased a life insurance policy on himself large enough to allow the sisters to live extravagantly for the rest of their days. No one was even considering pressing charges against them.

Delighted by the news, Theo signaled for Katti to push her into the shop. She braced herself for the inevitable chaos. She was sure it would get even worse by the time of the funeral. Theo thought if Scarlet's funeral had been sparsely attended, Elf's was going to set a record in the other direction. Rumors had suggested music and motion picture stars were expected to attend. The family members in town for Patrick's wedding were by and large the ones who would come for the funeral. They decided to “have the funeral while we're all still here.”

Theo wasn't surprised—or pleased—when Nellie Pearl burst into her shop, carrying with her the aroma of dirt, body odor and menthol. She loved to rub mentholated chest rub on her hair and skin. She was not allowed to touch anything in Theo's shop.

“The funeral's to be at the high school,” Nellie Pearl announced. “Can you believe it? Only heathens would hold a funeral there.”

Theo preferred churches as well, but the decision to use the high school made sense. The gym held more people than any place except the football field, and the weather was not conducive to outdoor services. “Are you going?” What she wanted to say was, “I heard your daughter is coming to get you, bathe you, and lock you up, you old bat.” She didn't.

“Of course. Me and Elf was thick as thieves back in the olden days.”

It was improbable, but possible, that they had been closer many years ago. Theo wasn't about to get into an argument, but maybe she could learn something. “So, were you friends with Scarlet as well?”

“Miss Priss?” The old woman laughed, but there was no humor, only malice, in the sound. “She thought she was special, didn't she? How could anyone ever like her?”

Theo felt the woman's bitter hatred. It poisoned the air around her. “Why not?”

“She tried to steal Easter Lily's man away, didn't she?” Nellie Pearl reached for a pair of scissors, but Gretchen got to them first. “A-course, he was a mighty purty man. The two of them weren't his only conquests.” She flashed a coy grin.

“He was pretty?” Theo tried a smile, momentarily wondering what a young Nellie Pearl might have looked like. “Was he young like Elf? Does Patrick resemble him?”

“I don't know you.” Nellie Pearl suddenly stopped and stared at Theo. She pointed a finger at Theo and stirred the scent of menthol again. “Get out of my house.”

Tony watched the white hearse bearing Elf's body to the high school gym. Someone had arranged an enormous floral display almost covering the entire vehicle, like a float in a parade.

Sitting in the gym, waiting for the cortege to arrive, were the celebrity guests and other mourners lucky enough to draw a number allowing them to attend. The numbers indicated the section of the gym where they could sit.

The fans without tickets lined the road throwing flowers at the passing hearse and the limos carrying the close family members.

Summer Flowers sat alone in the first limo. After Theo's description of the man's attitude about his daughters, Tony was surprised he bothered to attend. Maybe he'd reconsidered his opinion, or maybe he thought it was amusing.

Patrick and Celeste had bowed to the pressure of funeral director and mayor, Calvin Cashdollar. They sat in the back of the second limo, holding hands. Pericles, his face buried in a handkerchief, rode next to the driver.

Blossom, along with her father Autumn Flowers, her mother and the whole garden of girls, their husbands and children, as well as both of Blossom's beaus, arrived in a veritable caravan.

Tony watched the gym fill up, not sure what he expected to see. What he wanted was someone to stand up, holding a sign with an arrow and a confession: “It was me,” or “I did it.” A simple, tasteful “I'm guilty” would be lovely.

The section of the bleachers directly behind the family held mostly out-of-town musicians, actors, politicians, television personalities. A professional football player was slated to sing. In Tony's opinion, all they needed was a tent and an elephant to complete the circus.

Wade sauntered up to him. “I've been looking for anyone who might look like Patrick.”

“Tell me you've found someone.” Tony knew he was begging, but dignity wasn't important. “I'd love to talk to Patrick's mysterious father.”

“Sorry.” Wade held up his camera. “I'm taking lots of pictures, though. Maybe we'll find somebody when we go through them.”

“I don't suppose we could run a DNA test on everyone attending?”

Wade shook his head. “Sorry boss. Do you think the killer is here?”

“Yes.” Tony was sure. The biggest problem, other than identifying the unknown person, was the huge number of mourners and observers who were not inside the gym. It was impossible to check every face.

At last the funeral service began. Tony was relieved it was a dignified service and not the media free-for-all he'd imagined. The football star had a beautiful baritone voice. No one shrieked or fainted. No one streaked the event. Although incredibly slow moving because of the hordes of fans tossing flowers at the hearse, the cortege managed to get to the cemetery. Easter Lily Flowers was buried next to her sister Scarlet. Whether friends in life or not, they would share common ground in death.

Tony couldn't help glancing over at Mr. Beasley's grave. After the Halloween grave digging episode, his dirt had been neatly returned to the site. Tony found himself grateful the disturbed plot hadn't been Elf's grave. There would probably be a photographer ready to sell a picture of the old ladies to the tabloids. He could imagine lurid claims of cloning or sales of body parts on the Internet.

With her wheelchair and temporary handicapped tag, Theo was given a spot close to the front in the gym and at the cemetery. She tried to imagine what had brought murder up to her quilt retreat and how the one murder was connected to the death of a very popular entertainer. What secret did the sisters share? Besides Patrick, who wasn't a secret. The identity of his father was. And did the man even know he'd sired a son?

In the midst of people leaving, heading for their cars, Theo overheard a raspy male voice say, “I'm sorry she's dead, but I guess that makes me a free man.”

And a woman's voice drowned out by the noises of the crowd had agreed. Theo tried to maneuver the wheelchair to find the source of the voices. It was impossible to do so in the crush of mourners.

“Theo.” Martha charged through the crowd and grabbed the wheelchair handles. “What are you doing out here alone? Where's Katti?”

“We got separated.” Theo leaned forward, searching for a flash of pink. “I think I'd better wait here for her.”

“I'll wait with you.”

“Shouldn't you be teaching?” Theo didn't want to admit her sudden unease at being alone in the disorganized crowd.

“Not this afternoon.” Martha grabbed the wheelchair and pulled it out of the path of four men walking abreast, deep in conversation. “With the funeral in the gym, the high school students went home at noon. Elementary is still in session.”

Theo relaxed. At least she hadn't misplaced her sons. She smiled at Miss Flossie, who was picking her way between the tombstones. The old woman fumbled with the buttons on her coat. The glint of a heavy gold necklace with a single large ruby, winked at Theo and disappeared.

“Hey, Tony.” The voice on the phone was one he had heard only a few times and could never forget: the accent was North Dakota meets Appalachia. Today it positively rang with excitement.

“Hey Lars, what did you find?” Tony held his breath. Lars had been given the coveralls to work his magic on.

“I'm still picking bits of evidence off the outside of your coveralls, but I found some really great hairs on the inside.”

Tony heard the sound a keyboard clicking before the voice came back. “I have enough hairs to run nine kinds of tests on them and share the extras with you. Who knows, maybe you'll recognize the color and length.”

“We're small, but we've got a few people living here.”

A laugh like a donkey's bray came through the receiver. “Okay, point taken. Maybe carry them around to your three beauty shops. I'll bet one of them has seen the dye job.”

Tony felt like tap dancing down the hall. A real clue. “I'll have someone pick up the hairs in two hours at the latest.”

In Silersville, there were actually four full time beauty parlors, as Tony thought of them. Prudence Sligar Holt threatened to throw him into the street when he said something along those lines to her. The champion arm-wrestler and part-time psychic wasn't someone he wanted to antagonize. Although he thought one of the members of the “catfish guerillas” ought to be a bit more gracious to the sheriff.

“I run a salon.”

“Fair enough,” said Tony. He held the hair sample encased in a plastic sleeve. “Does this hair ring any bells?”

Prudence studied it carefully, holding it up like she was comparing it to hair on a head. Then she picked up a metal ring with gradated color samples, short braids, and picked out one. “Here's your color.”

“I'm impressed.” Tony stared at the color sample, trying to imagine that shade of hair on anyone he'd seen. He touched the sample ring. “Would everyone using the same dye match exactly?”

“No. The chemical formulas are not identical from brand to brand, but the end result could be too close to call.”

“Do you know anyone who might match?”

“Yes, several folks.” Prudence began flipping through a notebook and stopped, turning the page to face him. “These women and a man.” She watched while Tony made a note of the names. “These are just the ones I do. I'd bet every
stylist
”—she emphasized the word—“has a minimum of three similar. It's a good color, not brassy, and this length”—Prudence waved to Tony's hair sample—“is neither long nor short. It could be a man or woman.”

Somewhat crushed, Tony thanked her. He had hoped for a miracle. What he had was a clue and the cause for more questions. The investigation would take a while, but a conclusion would be reached.

Tony stood by the side of the highway connecting Park County to the back side of the national park. It was a beautiful road, full of twists and turns, and had no shoulder in areas where the road was cut through stone. At one of the turnoffs, a boiled peanut vendor had set up a makeshift store in the back of his pickup. He recognized Old Nem by the mustard and green sport coat he wore when he was working. It had seen decades of use and still hadn't worn out. Most of the year, Old Nem was simply “the egg man.” Today he had his wares arranged neatly, and his mongrel dog and constant companion, Lucy Two, stood next to his cash drawer—a rusty coffee can covered with aluminum foil.

Lucy Two wasn't much of a deterrent to crime. Anytime a person got within five feet of her, she'd roll over onto her back, legs sticking up, and wait to have her belly scratched. If she ever growled at someone, it was time to pay attention. Old Nem wasn't a criminal, in Tony's mind. Tony thought the old guy simply didn't understand the concept of needing permission to park where he wanted and sell his eggs and peanuts.