Maddie Cochere - Two Sisters and a Journalist 01 - Murder Under Construction (6 page)

“Come on. Let’s go see what trouble Mama’s causing. I’ll keep an eye on Doug and make his day miserable if I can.”

We made our way back through the garage and onto the lawn in time to see Aunt Bee parking in my driveway.

Aunt Bee was Mama’s younger sister and a complete opposite. Where Mama complained all the time, Aunt Bee was the happiest person on the planet. Mama was a skinny skeleton of a woman with a narrow mind, while Aunt Bee was a short, roly-poly woman with a huge personality. She could always be counted on to liven up any party.

She stepped out of her car but leaned right back in to grab something. A moment later, she was walking toward us with a watermelon in her hands. It was cut lengthwise and piled high with melon balls. I knew the fruit would be soaked with alcohol.

Keith and Kelly ran from the game to greet her. I might have been the cool aunt in the family, but there was no denying Aunt Bee was their favorite a million times over.

“Aunt Bee,” Kelly exclaimed. “That’s a huge watermelon. I love watermelon!”

Keith tried to move the plastic wrap aside to snatch a ball.

“No you don’t,” Aunt Bee said, holding the watermelon higher. “This one is for the adults. It’s got rum in it.”

Keith put his pout face on and crossed his arms over his chest. Aunt Bee carried her watermelon into the garage to add it to the already inordinate amount of food.

Buck pulled in and exited the car with cigarettes and ice. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked Keith.

“Aunt Bee showed up with a rum-soaked watermelon, but none for the kids,” Pepper said.

He handed the cigarettes and ice over to her. “I’m on it,” he said. He turned around and headed back to the car.

Mama started caterwauling. “Where are my cigarettes? Where is Buck going? When are we eating? I’m starving. Kelly, get me some of that watermelon.”

I felt more tired than when I climbed back into bed this morning. Pepper took the cigarettes to Mama while I made my way over to Stewie, Jackie, Matt, and that dirtbag, Doug.

I greeted them wi
thout enthusiasm. “Hi guys.”

Jackie smiled and said cheerfully, “Good morning. You just wake up?”

Stewie stood to give me his seat next to Jackie then moved into the empty chair next to mine. I plopped down.

“I didn’t sleep well, and I feel like I’ve been drugged. I don’t have any energy.”

Doug had the cure. “You need some protein. It’ll pick you right up. Protein always makes me feel better. And go play some cornhole. You’ll get your blood moving. I eat right and exercise and I never feel sluggish. You should try it some time.”

I didn’t attempt to hide my irritation at what had just come out of his mouth. Jackie looked my way with her eyes opened wide, but she had a huge smile on her face. I knew she thought he was a jerk and was secretly laughing at him rather than at what he said.

I had only ever had contact with Doug a few times. Once was at the police station, and there were a couple of times at social events. We were cordial but had never really had a conversation. The word around town was that he still thought of himself as the captain of the team – any team. He thought he knew everything about everything and everyone. He was insufferable.

“Stewie, would you mind grabbing me a beer?” I asked.

“Sure. I need another myself. Want to try one of the new ones from Great Lakes Brewing? I brought four different kinds.”

“Bring me a pilsner if you have one.”

“You got it. Anybody else?”

Only Doug abstained. “I never drink alcohol. It dulls my senses, and I need to be on my A-game right now.”

No one said anything, so I took the bait and asked, “Why?”

“Because I’ve been assigned to the Ruby Rosewell murder. I’ll be writing the lead on this one.”

The muscles in Jackie’s face twitched. She tried not to react, but I knew anger was just under the surface. Jackie had been first on the scene, and all of the information the paper had printed so far had come from her.

“How’d you get that assignment?” I asked.

His gloating was apparent. “I guess the boss wanted the best on this one.”

My mouth hung open at his comment. I was amazed he didn’t blow on his fingertips and rub his chest. Matt put his hand on Jackie’s knee as if to hold her back.

Doug laughed at my reaction and said, “Or, it could be because I told him I had an in with the two investigators Sergeant Rorski put on the case. They promised to give me an exclusive to any information they come up with, and they’ve already been all over Pittsburgh following leads.”

Stewie came back with the beers. Jackie took a couple big swigs of hers.

“What did I miss?” Stewie asked.

“Nothing much,” Matt said. “Doug was just telling us how great he is to get to write the lead on the Ruby Rosewell murder. He has a couple of investigators lined up to give him information.”

Stewie frowned. “Really? What do you know so far?”

I saw Aunt Bee walking in our direction. She was making the rounds and had just spent a few minutes visiting with Buck’s brother and his wife. They were seated near the cornhole game to keep an eye on their five kids.

“Hey, everybody,” she chirped. “Jackie, Matt, it’s so nice to see you. Doug Preston, I haven’t seen you in ages, but I love reading your church social articles and weekly recipes in the paper. I never miss them.”

Hurray for Aunt Bee. She knew Doug was a jerk. I gave Jackie a slight elbow of approval for Aunt Bee’s words.

“And this must be Stewart. Buck’s told me all about you. It’s about time Jo got herself a new beau. She’s been cooped up in that house for too long.”

“We’re not dating, Aunt Bee,” I insisted. “We’re co-workers.”

“Of course you’re dating,” she said with a wink at Stewie. “You don’t take your clothes off for someone unless you’re dating.”

I grimaced. My feet wanted to take me home, but my butt was firmly planted in the chair, and it would take too much effort to actually get up and walk home.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Buck carting a watermelon into the garage. I made a mental note to give him grief later for telling Aunt Bee about the mostly naked fiasco with Stewie.

Not to be ignored, Doug started running his mouth again. “As I was saying, those two investigators were all over Pittsburgh, and they got a big lead on the girl and her pimp. I don’t know the details yet, but I should have the exclusive for Sunday’s paper.”

Aunt Bee smirked. “Are you talking about Walker and Butler?”

Doug nodded.

“They’re up in Schenectady,” she said. “They found out the girl’s name was Sherry Clarke. She’s been turning tricks up there for over a year.”

Doug looked dumbfounded. “How do you know that?”

“Lucy at the beauty shop. I was writing a ticket in front of the shop yesterday, and she came out and told me. Walker’s wife was in earlier in the day and told her. Everyone knows there isn’t anything to investigate. They need to find her family and notify them of her death. If they find her pimp, they’ll probably have the murderer, but it will be hard to prove. They won’t put much manpower on this one.”

Leave it to Aunt Bee. If there was anything in town to know, she really did know it. Her title used to be meter maid, but now she’s known as a traffic enforcement employee. She walks a beat downtown and picks up a lot of information as she writes tickets and calls for towaways.

I was definitely interested in the name I had just heard. Ruby, Paula, Charlotte, and now Sherry. Which one was it? I wasn’t surprised the Buxley police weren’t going to devote much time to the case, but I had a strong feeling there was much more to this murder than was known. I believed the girl at Pink Elephants when she said Ruby wasn’t a prostitute. If I wanted to dig deeper, was Sherry Clarke the name I should look into? Or Charlotte? My head was starting to hurt. Drinking beer on an empty stomach in the hot sun wasn’t helping.

Doug was steaming. “This is my exclusive, and those beauty shop busybodies should keep their big mouths shut.” He muttered under his breath, “You can never trust a wife with information. They’re nothing but trouble.”

The ensuing silence was awkward.

Doug pointed his finger at me and demanded, “Jo, I want an interview with you. You found the body, and I want to know exactly how you found it and what you did afterward.”

Stewie frowned. It was a deep frown with deep furrows between his eyebrows. “You found the body?”

I nodded.

Matt laughed and said, “She sure did. That makes five bodies in two years. Right, Jo?”

“Yep. It’s a talent,” I said.

Stewie added some fidgeting in his seat to his frown. He seemed completely disturbed by the information.

“I find them, Stewie. I don’t kill them,” I said sarcastically. I was annoyed by his sudden attitude.

I left the group. I wanted to get out of the sun and away from Stewie. I headed for the garage. Pepper was talking with Buck as he grilled hot dogs and hamburgers. Mama had moved her chair next to Buck’s brother and his wife. She had a six-pack of beer in a cooler beside her. A cigarette dangled from her lips. I cringed when I heard her say, “Cornhole isn’t an appropriate name for a kid’s game. In my day it meant -”

Buck quickly yelled to shush her. I stepped into the gara
ge and out of hearing range.

Three tables were loaded down with food. Normally, I loved the food at Pepper’s cookouts, but none of it looked good to me today. My stomach was in knots, and the thought of anything with mayonnaise or grease only upset it more. I scanned the dessert table. Jackie’s six pies were front and center. There were two peach, two apple, and two blueberry. Pepper had added a chocolate cake to the table, three trays of cookies, and a dirt dessert with gummy worms. Aunt Bee’s rum-soaked watermelon was precariously perched at the end of the table.

My stomach could probably handle something sweet. I cut a piece of Jackie’s apple pie and dumped it onto a paper plate. The first bite sent my taste buds into overdrive. I devoured the slice. There wasn’t another human alive who could make a pie better than Jackie. I cut a piece of the blueberry and was nearly finished when a bite fell off my plastic fork and rolled down my white blouse before falling onto the floor. I looked up from the pie to see Stewie watching me from the doorway of the garage.

“It had to be the blueberry,” I said looking at the purple color streaked down my blouse.

“Jo, listen, I didn’t mean to look so shocked about you finding the dead girl. It just surprised me, and then when Matt said you’d found five bodies, well, it seemed so bizarre.”

“It’s ok. Want some pie?” I cut a slice of the peach.

“No. I just wanted to apolo-.”

“Come and get it,” Buck yelled as he came into the garage with a heaping platter of hot dogs and hamburgers.

Within seconds, the kids were filling plates and the adults were making a line behind them. Pepper sidled up to me.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you going to eat a burger?”

“My stomach’s upset. I just want dessert.”

Pepper looked at the three pies, the stain on my shirt, and the blob of blueberry on the garage floor. She started to giggle as she walked away.

I knew she was remembering the day I got a whippin’ from Mama for sneaking into the pantry and eating an entire blueberry pie she had baked for Old Man Wilson’s funeral. I was eight years old and I knew better, but I loved blueberries and something wicked talked me into hiding and eating the pie that day. Mama was an expert at wielding a belt, but I didn’t care. I cried something fierce, and Pepper felt sorry for me, but I had an entire pie in my belly and she didn’t.

Three pieces of pie today weren’t an entire pie. They were just a warm-up. I grabbed another paper plate and loaded it with more pie before making my way out to my chair.

The sugar rush helped my spirits, and the rest of the day sailed along smoothly. Conversation was enjoyable, Mama settled down, and Stewie opened up and was more charming than I had ever seen him. Jackie especially enjoyed his dry humor and continually laughed at his stories.

Doug Preston left shortly after eating, as did Buck’s brother and his family. It wasn’t long before everyone was complaining about the heat, so the party and the food moved indoors where charades was the game of choice. The only disturbing moment was when it was Mama’s turn, and she kept sticking her teeth out at Stewie for a clue. She may have known Clark Gable had false teeth, but we sure didn’t.

At nine thirty, Buck and Matt carried a heavy crate of fireworks between them over to the construction site behind my house. The rest of us sat in the lawn chairs Hank had already set up to face in that direction.

It was nearly an hour before the first colorful starburst went up into the night sky. A few moments later, Matt was running back to the house. He threw a string of lit firecrackers behind him as he ran. Pepper lit sparklers for Keith, Kelly, and Mama.

“How do you guys get away with this?” Stewie asked. “Ohio has strict laws against fireworks like these.”

I laughed. “Buck was nearly caught last year, but Sergeant Rorski couldn’t prove it was him who set them off, so he gave him a warning. After Buck found out it was a first-class misdemeanor with a fine of one thousand dollars and up to six months in jail, he took a class on explosives and got a Fireworks Exhibitor’s License.”