Kent Conwell - Tony Boudreaux 04 - Vicksburg (14 page)

He nodded, and I continued. “After you took him on as
your client three years ago, did he make any changes to the
will prior to this last one or make any large purchases requiring the expertise of an attorney?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Nodding slowly, I rose to my feet. “I guess that’s all I
need, Mr. Goggins. Thanks again.” I turned to leave. He had
given me much to consider. In fact, I was beginning to question his possible complicity in the murder. His portrayal of
JW Edney in no way corroborated that of Wilson Jenkins.
Someone was lying, and I had the overpowering hunch that
it was William Goggins.

Five minutes later, I pulled in at the curb in front of the
parts house. Doc Raines and JW Edney had been old friends. Maybe he could answer the question that had been
nagging at me ever since I left Wilson Jenkins.

With an amiable grin on his round face, Doc Raines
waved when he spotted me. “Well,” he began, “you going to
buy that little Runabout?”

“Haven’t even asked yet, but if it’s reasonable, I might just
load it up on a trailer and haul it back to Austin.”

He grew solemn. “How are JW’s kids taking their father’s
death?”

“About the way you’d expect” I didn’t suppose I was really lying. After all, he knew how stormy their relationships
had been. “Got a question for you, Doc. About JW.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Shoot”

“I was told he had the peculiar habit of writing a letter to
confirm -a previous decision” I paused.

Doc frowned. “I don’t follow.”

“It’s like this. That Runabout. Another friend of his said
that once he heard JW not only tell the owner he wanted to
buy the car, but then the next day, he watched as JW also
wrote the man a letter reaffirming his intentions.”

His eyes lit in understanding. “Oh, that. Yeah. I’ve seen
him do that. Not on small things, but larger ones, important
decisions. Like the Runabout”

With a rueful chuckle, I said, “That seem kind of eccentric to you?”

Doc laughed. “Eccentric? How about nuts? I used to tease
JW about that. Sure burned him up.” He grimaced. “Sorry. I
didn’t mean it like that. I meant, when I teased him about
those follow-up letters, it sure got under his skin.” He grew
solemn and slowly shook his head. He swallowed hard. “I
wish that odd old man was here so I could tease him again.”

“What made him do that? Any idea?”

He nodded. “Years ago, when we were both young and
wild, JW met a pretty young thing who stole his heart. He
was head over heels in love with her, but her old man
wouldn’t consider JW because he was footloose and poor.
So, JW got himself a job driving a milk delivery truck for the dairy north of town. All the while, the old man allowed
the young woman other suitors.

“Well, JW worked hard. He was determined to prove to
the girl’s father that he could take care of her. He found a
piece of land with a small house. He told the owner he’d
bring him a down payment, but when he got there a couple
days later, the owner had already sold the house and land. He
claimed since JW hadn’t shown up, he had the right to
change his mind. The girl married someone else. JW was
crushed. Went on a two-week drunk, and afterward swore
that whoever he was dealing with in the future would never
be able to question his sincerity and determination”

I absorbed Doc’s explanation. I didn’t know if I agreed
with JW’s philosophy or not, but at least it gave some credence to why he was eccentric in such a manner.

Back in my pickup, I studied the restored building that
housed the parts store. I was beginning to believe that this
case had more loose ends than a Louisiana centipede has
legs.

After my father, John Roney Boudreaux, deserted Mom
and me, we moved in with Pa’s folks, Moise and Ola
Boudreaux. Often, Grandpere Moise took me hunting down
in the swamps and forests where a soul always had to keep a
careful eye out for alligators, wild boars, and cottonmouth
water moccasins.

Those critters were nothing compared to the buzz saw I
ran into when I went back to Jack’s after leaving Goggins.

I was right. WR had called Stewart and Annebelle as soon
as I left the hardware store. When I walked into the parlor,
the three of them were yelling and screaming at Jack, whom
they had backed against the wall between the two sets of
French doors. He was fending them off with the plastic
scratcher.

Jack spotted me. “Tony! Am I glad to see you”

As one, the three fell silent and turned to glare at me.

“There he is,” WR muttered.

Annebelle took a step toward me. “What’s all this nonsense about John being murdered?” Her tone was a mixture
of defiance and belligerence.

I looked at WR. “I figured you would tell them”

“Any reason not to?”

“Just makes it easier for me,” I said, keeping my voice
soft. “Now I can talk to everyone at the same time”

Stewart was wearing a powder-blue hairdresser’s blouse.
He must have dropped his scissors and come running when
WR called. The overhead light reflected off the sheen of
sweat on his bald head. He sneered. “You’re crazy if you
think someone murdered John. He just got careless.”

“What kind of proof you got?” Annebelle demanded.

I smiled amiably. “None”

Stewart frowned. “Then why are you investigating it at
all?”

“Like I told WR, your brother hired me”

Jack pointed the arm scratcher at them. “John was not the
kind to get careless. Now, I might be wrong. Maybe it was
an accident.” He paused. “I hope it was an accident, but
wouldn’t you want to know if someone did deliberately kill
him?”

WR and Stewart looked at each other. “I suppose so,”
Stewart finally muttered. “But it wasn’t one of us, and I
don’t have any idea who would have wanted to kill him.”

Annebelle said nothing.

In a thin voice, WR said, “The way you talked at the store,
it sounded like you thought maybe me or Stewart did it.”

“No,” I replied shaking my head. “I said you both, in fact,
all four of you have reason enough to kill him, twenty-three
million of them, but I didn’t say you did.”

Annebelle frowned. “What do you mean, twenty-three
million?”

Jack spoke up. “John’s estate. That land south of
Vicksburg is a lot more valuable than we thought”

WR looked at Stewart in feigned surprise. He dragged his
tongue under his bottom lip. “Did you hear that?”

Stewart tried to fake his own surprise. “I don’t believe it.”
He glanced surreptitiously at me, then hastily looked away.

The expression on their faces told me the truth. They
knew. They had known for years.

Annebelle snorted. “Well, we might have had words with
John, but none of us would have killed him.”

I ignored her protest. “I know where WR and Stewart
were on the twenty-sixth. You mind telling me where were
you?”

Her face grew red. “You accusing me?”

“Nope.” I gave her what I hoped was a disarming grin.
“Just asking questions. Either I ask them or the sheriff asks
them.”

She studied me a moment. “I was at Jackson, at a softball
tournament. You can ask Nancy Carleton. She’s the coach. I
sat on the bench with her and hit balls to the infielders during warmups and then scouted teams we might play.”

Stewart snorted. “Since when did you have anything to do
with softball?”

Fire blazed from her eyes. “You don’t know nothing about
me, brother dear. At least I have an alibi.”

I interrupted their sibling spat. “This Nancy Carleton.
Does she live here in Vicksburg?”

Annebelle nodded, her frizzed hair bobbing up and down.
“On Baldwin Ferry Road, forty-seven thirty-one.” She gave
me the telephone number. “Check with her. She’ll tell you.”

I glanced at Stewart who wore a smirk on his thick lips.

Annebelle continued. “We left Friday morning. That was
the twenty-fifth. Stayed at the Jackson Inn, room oneseventy-five, until we came home on the twenty-seventh”

I cut my eyes toward Stewart once again. The smirk grew
wider. I made a mental note to talk to him alone.

“How did you learn of your father’s death?”

A tear formed in the corner of one eye. Despite her size,
she looked vulnerable and frail. “When I got home from
Jackson, the police were waiting for me. I was devastated.”

Stewart shook his head and muttered a curse. “Roll up
your pants. It’s getting deep in here. I got to have a drink on
that,” he said, heading for the sideboard where the liquor
was stocked. He reached for a bottle.

Annebelle’s demeanor of vulnerability and frailty instantly metamorphosed into a rigid mask of case-hardened steel.
She glared at him. “That shows you how much you know.
You were glad to see him die. He told me about the fight you
two almost had” She narrowed her eyes and clenched her
teeth. “Yeah, and now that JW’s dead, you can sell that drug
den you call a beauty shop and take your boyfriend to live in
New Orleans.”

“Why you-” He slammed the bottle back on the sideboard and in a fit of anger, charged across the room at her,
drawing back his left arm. “I’ll slap you silly!”

I grabbed him around the chest from behind, and using his
forward momentum, slung him aside. He crashed into the
Victorian couch, toppling it over backwards and sending
him sprawling to the floor.

WR grabbed Annebelle just as she rushed toward her
brother sprawled on the floor. “Stop it, stop it,” he shouted,
throwing his arms around her shoulders.

“He’s not the only one who can play rough!” she
screamed. “I’ll show him!” She aimed a wild kick at Stewart
that hit nothing but air.

Stewart stumbled to his feet. If I hadn’t been standing
directly in front of him, he would have charged her again. I
held out my hand. “That’s far enough. Cool off.”

I could hear WR still struggling with Annebelle behind
me, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off Stewart, whose face
was beet-red. The veins in his neck bulged. I hoped WR
could hold her. Both of the combatants outweighed me.
They’d flatten me flatter than the proverbial pancake if they
caught me between them.

“Come on, Stewart,” I said softly, nodding to the stairs in
the foyer. “Let’s go up on the gallery and cool off.”

He hesitated, his brows knit and his eyes intense with
hatred. After several tense moments, Stewart nodded briefly.
I followed him up the winding stairs to the second-floor
gallery just outside my bedroom. I had him alone.

To the west, the sun had dropped behind the hills of
Vicksburg.

He half-sat, half-leaned against the railing and pulled out
a pack of cigarettes. He offered me one. I shook my head.
He grunted. “Wish I could stop,” he muttered.

I remained silent.

After two or three puffs, he looked at me curiously. “WR
said you talked to him. What about me? When were you
planning on talking to me?”

With an indifferent shrug, I dropped into a weathered
wicker chair against the wall. “I know just about all there is
to know. The two of you were in Shreveport. The lawyer
who called you didn’t show.”

“Yeah. A place called the Tiger’s Den”

“How far is Shreveport? A couple hundred miles?”

“One eighty. I filled up when we arrived to see what kind
of mileage I’m getting.”

I didn’t reply.

After several moments of silence, he cleared his throat.
“What makes you think someone might have killed John?”

“Oh, different things. But, I could be wrong” A faint
smile ticked up the edge of his lips, but quickly vanished
when I added, “And I could be right. Take you for example.”

He shifted his rear on the railing nervously. “What
about me?”

“Well, I could make a good case against you. First, you
don’t have an alibi for the time your father died. Second, you
have plenty motive. A split of twenty-three million dollars.”

“I didn’t know he was worth that much”

I rolled my eyes. “You know better than that, and that’s
my third reason. You see, Stewart, I know you put the land
south of town on the market without your father’s knowledge. If it wasn’t valuable, why did you try to sell it?”

He glared at me a moment, then his belligerence melted
before my eyes. “Yeah. I knew. The truth is, JW was hardheaded as a rock. I figured if he saw how valuable the land was, if he saw the number of offers we got, he might decide
to sell it.”

“Then why did WR tell Jack it-was- worthless?”

Stewart’s cheeks turned red. He ducked his head. “We
didn’t want Jack or Annebelle to know just how valuable it
was”

“Why not? If your father had given it to someone else,
what good was all the lying and secrets?”

His cheeks grew redder. “We planned to contest the will.”

I leaned back in the wicker and shook my head, disgusted
with him and his brother. I cleared my throat. “According to
what your sister just said, you and your father almost came
to blows. Is that right?” I had two more pieces of evidence,
but -1 didn’t want to spring them too soon.