Killertrust (14 page)

Rhetta’s gut
clenched as though
she’d been
swift-kicked by a mule. In a way, she had—at least a metaphorical one. She
sucked in a sharp mouthful of air. The room started spinning around her like a
Tilt-A-Whirl.

Spotting
Rhetta’s distress, Ricky grabbed onto her by one arm while Woody seized the
other and together they propelled her to a chair.

Rhetta
lowered her head between her knees until the wave of dizziness passed. A vivid
replay of the fire rolled across her brain. Anger and confusion coursed through
her like floodwater surging through a canal in New Orleans. If he wasn’t dead,
then he had some serious explaining to do. A wife? If that were true, shouldn’t
she have inherited the trust? Of course, now she was dead. Burned to a crisp.
By whom? Her father? Did he kill his wife? Or was she an ex? Rhetta’s heart
pounded again. Did they have any children? Did Rhetta have any half siblings
out there? No, she remembered her father telling her that she was his only
child.

Was that
woman, then, the confidant he’d referred to?

Randolph
edged his way to the sunroom where he found Rhetta slumped in a wicker chair.
Woody hovered while Ricky had headed to the kitchen for water.

“Are you
okay?” he asked as Ricky arrived with a glass of water and handed it to Rhetta.
Randolph hugged Rhetta to him. “Are you sick? What’s wrong?”

Woody
filled Randolph in about what they’d just learned about the woman’s identity.

“That
does it, Rhetta. It’s time to stop any further escapades involving Frank
Caldwell. Enough is enough.” Randolph gripped his wife’s hand.

Rhetta
nodded. “I agree. I’m through, Sweets. I don’t want any more to do with this
charade. I don’t know what’s going on, but as far as I’m concerned, I don’t
care. Let Frank figure it out and go to the police. They can catch the hit and
run driver. And now all this…” She gestured vaguely. “I don’t know why he’s
dragging me into it.”

Rhetta
swallowed the last of the water. She stood, declaring. “I’m fine now. It was
just the shock of hearing that he had another wife, I guess, that knocked me
sideways.” She spotted the McEwens from the country feed store where she and
Randolph bought organic cat food in bulk, as they edged toward the door. She
nodded at Randolph, who released her hand, and set out to find their coats. He
returned several minutes later after they had hugged Merry Christmas and said
goodbye.

Their
leaving cued the other guests. One by one, they filtered to the hallway toward
the front door. Randolph grabbed an armload of coats and laughed with everyone
as they good naturedly fished though the stack for their own coats. Rhetta
waved at everyone as they left. After thirty minutes, only Woody and Jenn, and
Ricky and Billy Dan remained. Mrs. Koblyk promised to come back in a few days
for empty plates. Which meant there were plenty of desserts left over. For the
moment, the prospect of hoofing it on the treadmill was enough to discourage
Rhetta from any extra sweet treats.

“Let’s
have coffee,” Rhetta suggested. “I need an extra charge of caffeine.” They
trooped into the kitchen and hopped up on the stools around the counter.
Randolph plugged in the coffee maker and began brewing coffee.

The
heavenly aroma soothed Rhetta, and she began feeling better. She hopped down
and went to get the gift she wrapped for Ricky, along with two envelopes loaded
with red bows for Woody and Jenn. She had given Randolph his gift—a custom-made
wood folding easel—that morning. His gift to her was a new buttery smooth
leather wallet, stuffed with a shopping card to Macy’s. It wasn’t exactly an
iPad, but she loved the wallet, which she needed after losing hers. And she would
splurge on a new pair of boots at Macy’s.

Jenn and
Woody were thrilled at their gift cards to the bookstore and sporting goods
store respectively. Ricky squealed in delight at her silver dog pin.

Rhetta
opened Ricky’s gift to her and smiled at the white iPad cover. Ricky’s eyes
welled at seeing what Randolph’s gift was to Rhetta. “You can return it,
Rhetta. Best Buy will exchange it.”

Before
Rhetta could answer, Randolph spoke up. “No need,” he said, and ducked out of
the room a moment. He returned with a package in his hands, kissed Rhetta on
the cheek and handed it to her. “It will go perfectly with this.”

Rhetta
tore open the package and grinned at the white iPad box. “You’re awesome,
Sweets. How did you know?” Randolph executed an exaggerated eye roll to
everyone’s laughter.

They
waited for the coffee, chatting amiably. Then Randolph cupped Rhetta’s chin. “I
think you need to call Unreasonable first thing in the morning and tell him
what Woody found out. Even though Woody managed to find out before
First News
,
the sheriff probably knows by now. Calling him will show good faith.”

“I read
it on the wire service feeds,” Woody said. “I doubt if
First News
has run it yet. There’s no other exciting news, like Butler County cows having
triplets, so they might run it.”

“Hmpf,”
Rhetta muttered. “I don’t care a whit about what Unreasonable thinks of my
faith—good, bad or otherwise.”

“I get
that,” Randolph said. “However, by showing said good faith, you can convince
him you are not involved except accidentally. Also, while you talk to him, ask
if he has any updates on whoever slugged you and stole your purse. Even though
it’s a city police issue, he may know something. If you’re nice to him, maybe
he’ll be nice to you.”

Rhetta
said, “I think it’s too late for that. But I’ll still ask him anyway.” She
reflexively touched the back of her head. It was healing nicely, and she’d
managed to pull at least twenty hairs over the shaved spot. Ricky said the
orange hue on her scalp matched the deep orange sweater she wore.

Ricky
piped up. “If you don’t want us involved in this, does that mean we can’t go on
a road trip to get the Camaro?”

“If that
car is really my father’s, then I would love to have it.” Rhetta fingered her
spoon. “Especially if it’s truly an early First Generation.”

“First
Generation Camaros are those from 1967 to 1969,” Ricky explained to Billy Dan.
“Chevrolet changed the body style in 1970 and kept that basic style through
model year 1981. Those are second generations, like Cami, which is a 1979
model.”

“Yes,
ma’am,” Billy Dan said and saluted. Everyone laughed. Ricky was a fountain of
information on muscle cars.

Randolph
passed out coffee mugs to everyone. Rhetta smiled as he handed her the cat mug.
He knew it was her favorite. He poured and everyone watched him, waiting for
his answer.

He stared
back at the expectant faces, then slowly shook his head. “I don’t know, Rhetta.
Do you think the car is really there?”

“I’ll
certainly find out. I’ll call them tomorrow, and try to get all the
information. Then we can decide.” Rhetta massaged her coffee cup. The cup was
warm and comforting in her hands.

Billy Dan
cleared his throat. “Randolph, if the car is there, Ricky and I can go and get
it.”

Ricky
squeezed Billy Dan’s hand.

“Not on
your life,” Randolph said. They all stared at him. Rhetta started to protest.

He held
up his hand. “Do you think for a minute Rhetta would let anyone go without her
along to pick up that car?” He raised his mug in salute. “Here’s to a road
trip.”

The MCB Mortgage and Insurance
branch office was closed on Boxing Day, the day after Christmas. Although the
other businesses in the area didn’t recognize the British and Canadian holiday,
Rhetta was very glad when the owner of the bank had decided to close the
mortgage offices, making for a long holiday weekend. For whatever reason. Maybe
he was a closet Canadian.

After two cups of coffee, and
with Randolph’s help, she began tidying up from the open house. She was still a
bit stiff from her adventure in the Dumpster, but happy that the attacker
hadn’t stolen Christmas from her, in addition to her purse.

“I’m so glad we had the open
house, Sweets,” she said as she dumped stale crackers and chips into a trash
bag. “I’m actually feeling pretty good and I think everyone had a grand time.” 

“Especially the cats,” he
answered, and pointed to the deck where the four were snarfing hungrily on
leftover meat scraps. He massaged her shoulders. “Why don’t you call the Cave
Storage in Kansas City? I think you need to know right off if the Camaro is
there. Then we can plan accordingly.”

“You’re right.” Rhetta slid
her phone in front of her and Googled the storage unit. The number came up on
the first window.

She had awakened before dawn
that morning worrying about the car, and wanting to call, but hadn’t wanted to
appear too anxious. She wasn’t sure why, other than she didn’t want Randolph
thinking she was willing to stay involved with her father. She took a deep
breath and tapped the number.

On the sixth ring, a gruff
voice answered, “Cave Storage.”

“Uh, yes, I need to check on
a storage item of mine.”

A long pause. “What do you
mean? What is there to check?”

“I want to make sure it’s
still there.”

Another pause. Rhetta said,
“Hello, are you still there?”

“Why wouldn’t it be here? Are
you saying someone may have removed your item?”

“I’m sorry. No, I don’t think
anyone removed it. Let me start over. My father said he has a car in storage
there and that the unit is in both our names. I just want to make certain the
car is still there before I come to get it.”

A long sigh. “We have a lot
of vehicles here ma’am. What’s the name on the unit?”

“Frank Caldwell and or Rhetta
McCarter.”

“Just a sec. She heard a thud
as he laid the phone down. Then paper shuffling noises. A pause. More
shuffling, then he returned to the line. “I found the information.”

Rhetta cringed. “How much is
the bill? We want to come in the next few weeks to pick it up.”

“Do you know what day?”

“No, sir, let’s say around
the first of February.” Rhetta calculated that the weather would be cooperative
by then.

She heard the chatter of a
calculator. Her forehead popped sweat beads. She really wanted the car, but was
apprehensive about how many thousands of dollars it might cost to get it. She
could imagine a ten thousand dollar rental bill.
Don’t be silly.
The storage company would have sold it off before it could have accumulated
that much of a bill.
She grabbed a tissue and wiped her brow.

“Thirty-three hundred
dollars. Sixty months at fifty-five dollars a month.”

Dear
God, how did he let it get so far behind?
She scribbled the amount onto
a slip of paper and handed it to Randolph. His eyebrow shot up.

“Uh, okay. Thanks.” Her
forehead was soaked.

“Call me and let me know what
day you’ll be here, so I can cut you a check. I won’t have that much cash
around.”

“Excuse me?”
What did he say?

“I’ll have to get you a
refund. That unit was paid ahead a long time ago, and there’s still five years
left.”

Three
thousand, three hundred dollars? Who pays that much in advance?

For over a week, snowstorms
had raged across the plains from Kansas to Illinois, blanketing mid-Missouri
with its heaviest snowfall in twenty-six years, according to
First News
.
The
outlook for a trip to Kansas City in the near future was bleak. Rhetta
reconciled herself to the bad weather mid-state, while dealing with ice storms
and freezing rain at home in southeast Missouri. Her father’s car would have to
stay tucked away in the cave for a while longer.

Rhetta parked Streak at the
rear of her office, not wanting to walk across the frozen parking lot and take
any chances on the sidewalk out front. Evan hadn’t kept up with salting down
the sidewalks and Rhetta decided to call Jeff today and mention it. She spotted
Woody pulling in and waited as he parked his Jeep next to her.

“I’m going to call Jeff today
about the parking lot out front,” Rhetta said, juggling her large coffee and
her purse as she dug for her keys. “He needs to keep it cleaned off. It gets
downright dangerous out there. I thought Evan was supposed to salt down the
sidewalks in front of the building, too. Where the heck is Evan anyway?”

“I’m surprised no one else
has fallen out there,” Woody said.

“Who fell?” Rhetta produced
her key and started up the steps, which, miraculously were not iced over.

“Nobody, why?” Woody said.

“You just said you were
surprised that no one else has fallen out there,” Rhetta said, inserting the
key into the lock, and pushing the door open with her hip.

“Because it’s so icy,” Woody
answered.

Rhetta turned to stare at
him. She decided not to pursue the disjointed conversation. She stomped her
booted feet on the rug at the back door, while Woody sailed on past her into
the main office area. He continued out the side door that opened into the hall,
and disappeared around the corner.

“Where’s Woody going?”
LuEllen asked as she met Rhetta.

Rhetta shrugged. “Couldn’t
tell you. Maybe he’s going to see the accountant about his taxes.” She hadn’t
seen the resident greasy accountant, Philip Corini in a while. That was a good
thing.

“Or, maybe he’s going to the
new chiropractor,” LuEllen said, taking Rhetta’s coat and hanging it for her.
They walked side by side into the main office.

“There’s a new chiropractor
in our building?”

LuEllen nodded, then picked
up a card from her desk and handed it to Rhetta. “Doctor Panwar Rashad. He
moved in over New Year’s. He’s just starting up. Woody has been complaining
about his back, so maybe that’s where he went.”

Rhetta examined the card.
“Sure will be handy for us. Especially if the sidewalks don’t get any salt. By
the way, who salted our back steps?” She sat in her chair, adjusted it up, and
then tugged off her snow boots. She pulled open the bottom drawer and withdrew
a pair of dress shoes, and dropped her purse in.

“I decided I didn’t want a
broken neck so I salted them earlier. I picked up some salt on the way in,”
LuEllen answered.

“You’re a doll. I should have
thought of getting a bag of salt, but honestly, Jeff told me Evan was taking
care of that. By the way, have you seen Evan lately? Or Jeff, for that matter?”
She got busy. She had a stack of applications on her desk that she had to log
into the loan origination system for processing. Refinance requests had shot up
after rates had dropped again.

“Hm, now that you mention it,
I haven’t seen either one of them. You know this weather is a bit hard on some
older folks. Maybe Evan can’t get out much. As for Jeff, I heard that he is
travelling abroad. Europe, I think.”

“How nice for Jeff. I hope
the weather there is better than here. Where in Europe did he go?”

“He took
his wife on a second honeymoon. To the Mediterranean—Spain, I think, and Italy.
Not sure where else.”

Rhetta got up, and walked to
the back room and peered out the window. “You’re probably right about Evan. I
don’t see his van. Oh well, maybe Jeff assigned some other work for him at one
of the other buildings. By the way, LuEllen, did Woody fall in the parking
lot?”

“Not that he told me about.
Why?”

Rhetta told LuEllen what
Woody had said.

LuEllen shook her head and
smiled. “Sometimes Woody leaves out parts of sentences.”

“You mean the parts that make
sense?”

“Yes,” LuEllen said. “Those
parts.”

“That reminds me. I have to
call Jeff. Or, at least his office about the parking lot.” Rhetta trotted back
to her desk.

Before she could punch the
numbers, the phone rang.

“MCB Mortgage and Insurance,”
Rhetta said.

“May I speak with Mrs.
McCarter?”

“This is Rhetta McCarter, how
can I help you? Rhetta had her pen ready to jot notes.

“This is Sergeant Delmonti of
the Cape Girardeau police department. We have a suspect in custody that may be
your assailant. We have evidence that we would like you to identify. How soon
can you get down to the police department to identify those items?”

“That’s great news, Sergeant.
I’ll come right away.”

She disconnected and turned
to LuEllen. “Sergeant Delmonti thinks they may have captured my assailant. I’m
going to go down to the station. They want me to identify some stuff, but I
didn’t ask what they had.”

Just then, Woody returned,
headed straight to Rhetta’s desk and leaned over it. “I went to see that new
chiropractor,” he said.
Score one for LuEllen
.
“When I
left just now, I went past Corini’s office, and his door was open, but nobody
was at the front desk.”

“I heard he hasn’t got a
secretary or receptionist,” Rhetta answered, reaching into the bottom drawer
for her purse.

Woody nodded. “I know that.
It’s what I saw that bothered me. A woman’s purse on the floor, near the corner
of the desk.”

Rhetta couldn’t understand
why that concerned Woody. She kicked off her shoes and tugged on her boots.
“Maybe he hired a receptionist.”

“No,” Woody shook his head.
“There wasn’t anyone else in there. I heard him on the phone, so he was alone.”

“Okay, so he didn’t hire a
receptionist. Maybe he carries a man-bag. He is from Saint Louis, you know.”

“If it’s his man-bag, it
looks exactly like the purse you had when you were mugged.”