Maddie Cochere - Two Sisters and a Journalist 01 - Murder Under Construction (14 page)

“I think you need to leave this to the police, Jo. You could hurt a lot of people if you put this out there and you’re wrong.”

“I know. I’m meeting with Sergeant Rorski on Monday to tell him what I’ve found out so far. He’ll look into Terry Cord. I’m sure the police have ways to know if he was in the country or not when Paula was murdered.”

He reached over and grasped my hand. I wasn’t repulsed, and I didn’t pull away. “Tell the sergeant what you know, and then leave it to the experts. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

I smiled. Stewie was looking more attractive by the minute.

Jackie tripped on the stairs. I heard an expletive under her breath.

I whirled around and issued a loud, “Shhh.”

She hissed, “You didn’t tell me there were shoes on the steps. Turn on the flashlight.”

“No. Not until we’re inside.”

I had my credit card in my pocket. If I couldn’t find a way into Paula’s apartment, I’d use it to force the lock. I had my fingers crossed the old house didn’t have a dead bolt on the door.

It was shortly after two in the morning. Stewie had dropped me off at my house at eleven thirty. When he asked if I wanted to go out again, I didn’t hesitate to say yes. I was disappointed he didn’t kiss me goodnight, but he seemed especially happy when he left.

After kicking off my shoes and sliding into my fuzzy orange slippers, I shuffled into the murder room to add the information from the day to the white board.

I sat on the loveseat and stared at
this addition:
Paula’s apartment - Second and Elm - Purple with some shade of blue trim.
I had written the words in black marker like all of the other information, but every time I turned my head, my peripheral vision caught a glow around the words, even though there clearly wasn’t one.

Finally, a light bulb went off over my head, and I knew as clearly as I had known about Margie and the nail salon, there was something in Paula’s apartment I should see. I also knew I needed to go now, before I talked with Sergeant Rorski on Monday. Her apartment would be the first place he would send his men to investigate.

It took some time, but I eventually convinced Jackie to go with me to Patterson to check out the apartment. When she couldn’t talk me out of going, I knew she was too afraid to miss a good story by not coming along.

I turned the flashlight on just long enough to get my bearings at the top of the stairs. I reached for the mailbox and pulled it down to peer inside. It was nearly full.

“Don’t touch the mail,” Jackie warned. “It’s one thing that we’re breaking into her apartment, but it’s a felony with penitentiary time and a roommate named Diamond if you mess with the mail.”

I opened the screen door. Of course, it had to squeak. The sound echoed up and down the street.

“Hurry up,” Jackie whispered.

I felt the credit card in my pocket. I should have brought something else. The last thing I needed was to break the card off in the door, leaving my name behind. I’d end up on one of those stupid criminals shows.

“Let me look for a key first,” I said.

There was nothing above the door or under the mat. I reached for a flower pot on the nearby window ledge. Jackie nearly knocked me over when she reached past me and turned the door knob. The door swung open.

“Who leaves their house unlocked?” I asked.

“We all do,” Jackie said. “It’s one of the benefits of small town living.”

Well I didn’t. Ok, maybe I did, but I was still surprised to find Paula’s door unlocked.

Safely inside, I turned on the flashlight. Jackie flipped the switch on a lamp beside the sofa.

“Don’t turn the light on,” I said.

“The lamp is better than the flashlight. No one around here knows Paula is dead. It will look like she’s home. The flashlight is a sure sign there’s a burglar in the apartment.”

I liked Jackie’s logical mind. “You’re right, but we’re not burglars.”

“Not yet we’re not. What are we looking for?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe paperwork or computer files. A thumb drive. Something to tie her to Terry Cord.”

“If Terry’s been out of the country, why are you so convinced he’s the one who murdered her?” Jackie asked.

That was a good question. Why was I so hung up on this theory?

“I don’t know, but I’m sure I’m right. Paula had to be pregnant with his baby, and that’s why she was murdered. I feel it in my bones.”

“Well get your bones to looking. I want to get out of here.” She started opening and closing drawers in the end tables.

I started my search in the kitchen. There were papers on the counter, but they were mostly advertisements and a few recipes cut from magazines. The drawers in the kitchen held typical junk, cutlery, and towels. I opened the refrigerator.

“Whoa,” I exclaimed. A disgusting smell poured out. She had only been dead a week. How bad could her leftovers be? I slammed the door shut.

“Jeez, Jo,” Jackie said pulling her shirt up over her nose.

“Cabbage,” I said. “Very old, cooked cabbage.”

I headed for the bedroom.

“Wait. I think I found something,” she said.

She was standing next to a small corner desk and holding up a folder. “All of this paperwork is from Telcor, and it looks like transactions for property purchases. There are sticky notes on some of them.”

We flipped through the first half of the papers together. Each sticky note had one word written on it:
fraud
.

Something else caught my eye. All of the paperwork had the Telcor logo. The T and the C were prominent in the logo, but the L was slightly enhanced, too. TLC. Those were the initials of Terry Cord. Terrence L. Cord.

“Jackie, I think Telcor is owned by Terry,” I said excitedly. “Maybe that’s why you couldn’t find out who owns the company. Paula must have found out about something illegal, and she was killed for it. Or killed for being pregnant. Or for both.”

Jackie nodded her head. “You might be right. Let’s take this and get out of here.”

My stomach gurgled a warning. Chummy’s whipped cream coffee had moved into my intestines and was determined to move Mama Rosie’s food out. Bertie and her crapped pants came to mind. “Jackie, I have to use the bathroom right now. It can’t wait.” I made a dash for Paula’s bathroom.

“Ok, but I’m leaving. I’ll wait for you in the car. Turn off the light and lock the door before you come down.”

I waved my hand in her direction as I dashed around the corner.

The human body can be a disgusting thing at times. I suppose it didn’t help I ate indiscriminately with no concern for good digestion. The stomach cramps and explosive diarrhea were horrible, especially in someone else’s house, and I kept thinking of that poor goober in the bathroom scene of the movie Dumb and Dumber. With the cabbage smell from the kitchen, and now my odiferous use of the bathroom, the wallpaper would soon be coming off the walls.

The front door opened. I whisper-yelled to Jackie, “I’m so sorry it smells in here. What did you forget?”

She didn’t answer. I reached for the toilet paper just as a police officer came around the corner with his gun drawn.

“Police! Put your hands in the air!”

I screamed and threw my hands and the roll of toilet paper in the air while squeezing my eyes shut with all my might.

~ ~ ~

For the past hour, I had been lying through my teeth. One lie after another with one begetting another just like Mama said it would. Or the Bible. I wasn’t sure where I learned the saying.

I was telling my story of mortification once again to yet another officer. “I’m a friend of Paula’s. We both work in real estate. I was on my way home and had a sudden attack of intestinal disfortitude. Irritable bowel syndrome. The door was unlocked. I didn’t break and enter anything. I didn’t take anything. I was using the bathroom when one of your officers sneaked in and pointed his gun at me.”

“Mrs. Ravens, we’re trying to -”

I cut him off. “It’s not Mrs. It’s just Jo.”

He continued. “We’re trying to locate Miss Radford, so we can verify your story. When the landlady called to report you creeping up the stairs, she said it sounded like a herd of elephants above her once you entered the apartment. Who was with you?”

“No one. I was alone. I was running to use the bathroom, so, of course, it sounded like elephants. And what if you can’t find Paula?” I asked. “You can’t hold me indefinitely for using a bathroom. Please call Sergeant Rorski in Buxley. He knows me. He’ll vouch for me. Please.”

The officer left the room. Where in the world was Jackie? When the first officer hauled me out of Paula’s apartment in handcuffs, Jackie was nowhere in sight. My car was still a block down the street, but I couldn’t tell if she was in it or not. The keys were in the ignition, so I could only surmise she had bolted out of Patterson by now and was back home in Buxley.

I checked my watch. Four minutes after four. Thank goodness it was Sunday, and I didn’t have to be at work in a few hours. I did have to be at Mama’s for a family dinner at noon. If I could get out of here soon, I’d at least be able to get a couple hours of sleep.

The original arresting officer came into the room. He didn’t look happy. “I don’t know what happened in that apartment tonight, but I know you’re lying.” He held the door open for me. “You can go. Sergeant Rorski sent someone to pick you up.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I made a beeline for the front door – and nearly died when I saw Glenn Wheeler waiting for me.

He was all business as he escorted me to his cruiser and assisted me into the back seat. We were only a few minutes down the road when he asked, “Are you ok?”

If I was a crier, this would be a good time to start blubbering, but I wasn’t. The entire situation was so absurd, I couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “I’m fine,” I said.

“What happened back there, Jo? What were you doing in Patterson at this time of night? Did you really break into that apartment to use the bathroom?”

I wasn’t going to change my story now. “I didn’t break in. The door was unlocked. But yes, I used the bathroom.” I smiled to myself. None of that was a lie.

“Where’s your car?” he asked.

Without thinking, I said, “I don’t know. Jackie probably drove it home.”

“So you weren’t alone in there,” he said. “This has something to do with the Ruby Rosewell murder, doesn’t it?”

I sighed. “Glenn, I’m tired. I already promised you I’d tell Sergeant Rorski everything I know on Monday. Later today, I’ll be at my mother’s for dinner, but I won’t be going anywhere else. I don’t want to talk about it tonight.”

He didn’t respond, and we rode the rest of the way in silence. When he dropped me at my house, he said, “Don’t forget Jo, Monday morning. I’ll be there, so I’ll see you then.”

I stood in the driveway and watched as he drove away. Tonight was a close call. I was exhausted but exhilarated. I had no idea if Jackie and I found anything to incriminate Terry Cord or not, but I did know it was a huge rush to sneak into Paula’s apartment and search for clues. I couldn’t wait to start my own investigative practice. I smiled all the way to my front door.

It was locked.

Thanks to Glenn, my spare key was no longer in my fake rock. My purse was in my car, and both the car and Jackie were missing. I thought about banging on Pepper’s door, but I didn’t want to wake the kids. I could break a basement window, but if the prowler came back, I didn’t want to provide an easy way in. Frustrated, I jammed my hands into my pockets - and felt my credit card.

I was in the house in two minutes. I was in my bed in ten.

~ ~ ~

Officer Glenn Twit Wheeler seductively rubbed honey on my lips before slowly licking them and melding his lips to mine in a passionate kiss. I returned the kiss and pressed against him in an effort to encourage him to go farther. He slid his hands under my shirt. Adding to the sensual atmosphere, the bees in the hive buzzed in a pleasing, rhythmic tone.

This was a great dream. There was no way I was waking up from this one until I had sex with Glenn. Consciousness was knocking, but I refused to let it in. I concentrated harder on Glenn’s hands. He gazed lovingly into my eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, and I knew he was going to say
I love you
. Instead, the foulest of swear words gushed forth as his face morphed into Stewie’s. His face turned purple. Blood poured from his mouth, and he slumped to the floor. A knife protruded from his back. Paula stood behind him shaking the hive and laughing. The buzzing of the bees became cacophonous. I put my hands over my ears and screamed.

My eyes flew open, but the buzzing continued. I leaned over and slammed my hand down on the alarm clock.

~ ~ ~

Fried chicken.

Mashed potatoes with melted butter pooled on top.

Sweet corn.

Bread and butter pickles.

Brown ‘n serve dinner rolls.

Mama sure knew how to serve up comfort food, and I had it piled high on my plate. The ratio of mashed potatoes to all of my other food was clearly two to one.

The pitcher of sweet tea on the table was empty, and so was my glass. I carried both to the kitchen for refills. When I returned, I plopped down on my chair, and a loud fart noise filled the room. Mama broke into laughter so hard, her eyes went squinty, and she couldn’t talk. She put her hand over her heart, and I thought she was going to have the big one. Keith and Kelly hung off their chairs with laughter. Hank was smiling, and I knew he thought it was funny, too.