Mind Your Own Beeswax (32 page)

“We can’t prove it,” Robert said. “Not yet anyway.”

That got me thinking about how much effort and luck it took to actually prove a person guilty of a crime. Even when the whole town knew the truth, without the right evidence or a confession from the killer, a cold-blooded murderer could go scot free to hurt other people. Scary to think about.

Terry was going over his own bullet points, making me smile. I thought I had a monopoly on those. “Number one,” he said, “Jay never forgave Lauren for killing his father. Number two, where was he when Lauren was killed? Nobody knows the answer to that because of his job. He was alone on the road all the time. Where’s a solid alibi?”

“Number three,” I said, stepping in to help with the various points. “He had the means. Johnny’s trained in firearms. Those two women didn’t stand a chance.”

“But how are we going to prove he did it?” Gus asked. “That’s the thing.”

Nobody had an answer for him.

Since I wanted to help Carrie Ann remember the period of time when she’d blacked out, I waited until Stu had a few minutes free, then I asked him if he remembered her being around last Saturday.

“She was here late afternoon,” he said, glancing over at my friends sitting by the window.

“Was she drinking heavily?” I asked.

Stu groaned dramatically. “You know I don’t like to talk about my customers,” he said. “It’s bad for business.”

“She’s part of my family. You have to tell me. Come on Stu.”

“She might have had one or two.”

“Carrie Ann says she can’t remember a thing. It had to have been more than one or two.”

Stu shook his head. “She wasn’t here long enough to have had more than one, maybe two.”

So Carrie Ann had changed locations; started at Stu’s, ended someplace else. But where had she gone from here?

I caught my cousin’s eye, motioned to her with a little head move, and she came over to the bar.

“Stu remembers seeing you in here last Saturday afternoon,” I said to her.

“Okay,” she said slowly, and I saw her eyes swing up in her head like she was trying to see inside her brain and that would help her remember.

“Keep at it,” I told her, and we went back to our table. Carrie Ann started moping over the 7UP in front of her. She should be thrilled that I’d discovered her starting point. She’d been in here Saturday afternoon. Why couldn’t she remember any details? That was the weird part. Unless she did remember and wasn’t telling the truth.

Ali scooted over, making room for me to sit down. “Sounds like you have the Kerrigans on your side,” she said in that husky voice of hers.

I nodded. “Just have to prove Johnny Jay did it. How hard can that be?”

“Pretty hard,” Patti said. “A police chief can concoct alibis and all sort of things.”

Ali looked doubtful. “I don’t know about that. He’d need people to lie for him.”

Carrie Ann said, “Well, someone might. You guys would lie for me if I asked you to, right?”

“Not if you murdered someone,” Patti said, definitively. “Unless, of course, they deserved it. Like if they were killers themselves or they hurt kids or small animals.”

A little later I saw Rita Kerrigan head for the ladies’ room. I followed her in and explained about the box of items out at Stanley’s and how most of it was junk, with one exception. I tried to give her the locket I’d found.

She wouldn’t even look at it. “I don’t want anything to do with anything from then,” she said, actually closing her eyes rather than risk actually seeing what it was. “And I told Stanley the same thing. Throw it away, every bit of it.”

Okay, then. Stanley had been right about Rita not wanting to confront any memories that might pop out of that box. I felt insensitive for reminding her of other bad times and putting her on the spot.

When I returned to the table I dropped the locket down in the center.

Stu came over. “You ladies want another round?”

“Four more sodas,” Patti said. “And more sweet potato fries.”

“Whose is this?” Carrie Ann asked after Stu went to fill our order and she’d picked up the locket.

“I found it in a box of things Stanley pulled out of Lauren’s car,” I said. “The night she ran over Wayne Jay.”

And then I told them about Stanley wanting to throw it away and how Holly had volunteered me as custodian while she’d been lounging inside my truck hiding from Stanley’s bees. And how I’d had to scrounge through mouse poo to find the locket.

“Rita won’t take it,” I finished. “What should I do with it?”

“It doesn’t look valuable,” Patti said, as though she had any idea what jewelry cost. Patti’s body was totally unadorned with extras. No jewelry at all. “A trinket. Pitch it.”

Ali took the locket from Carrie Ann and studied it. She opened it up and saw T. J.’s tiny picture. I thought she looked wistful and a little sad. “He’s always been cute, hasn’t he?” She showed it around and everybody agreed, including me. I’d never thought of her husband as good looking, other than his teeth, but as long as Ali thought so that’s all that counted.

Then she dropped the locket on the table and pushed it away. We kept ordering food. Nothing beats good old bar food when your energy reserves are low. I ordered a big burger decked out with all the trimmings, including bacon and cheese.

But I resisted the urge to eat the entire giant hipwidener, so I shared it with my cousin, who said she wasn’t hungry but took half anyway and picked at it. I hadn’t seen her that down in the dumps since Gunnar put her on a short leash with her own kids.

As it turned out, she had something to worry about.

Because about an hour later Gunnar rushed in, scoured the place until he spotted us, bolted over, and told Carrie Ann the cops wanted her for questioning and she should give herself up.

“Who says?” I asked while Carrie Ann tried to hide under the table.

“Sally Maylor came by my place looking for her.”

“I’m as good as dead,” Carrie Ann said from below. “I’ll live out the rest of my life like a goldfish in a bowl, like a monkey in a cage.”

“Gunnar said they only want you for questioning,” I offered, but it was a lame attempt to comfort her. “I’ll go down there with you.”

“No, I’ll go,” Gunnar said.

“You stay with your kids,” I said. “They need you.”

For once in my life I’d made the right decision by not drinking alcohol, because I had to drive her to the police station, where I found out Johnny Jay was running the whole show from the sidelines when all along he’d led the entire community to believe he was on voluntary leave from duty. He even had on his uniform.

“Fischer,” he said to me, standing too close for comfort. He took a big whiff my way, nosing around in hopes of catching the smell of alcohol on me. “You seem to follow trouble wherever it’s hanging out. And get that dog out of my station.”

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

“Questioning suspects, apprehending criminals. Want your own suite? I think a cell is available.”

“We want to talk to Sally instead of you,” I said. Carrie Ann hadn’t said boo. She stayed behind me, looking like a cornered animal. A guilty one.

“You don’t have any say, Fischer. Come on Carrie Ann, let’s go.”

And he left me standing in front all by myself. My cousin turned back once with pleading eyes before they disappeared from view.

My plan had been to stick by Carrie Ann’s side through the whole unpleasant episode. My new plan was to camp out with Ben right where I was.

That all changed when Sally Maylor came through the door into the building and stopped to chat.

“He’s been running the show the whole time,” she admitted when I asked. “Guys like that don’t go down easy.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

Sally gave me a crooked grin. “No,” she said, like she wished it were. “Eventually the newspaper will figure it out and report that he’s back. By then the police chief will have a spiel ready.”

“Why does he have his clutches in Carrie Ann?”

“He has a potential witness who says he saw her in The Lost Mile right before Lauren Kerrigan and Hetty Cross were murdered.”

That
was not what I expected or wanted to hear. “But . . . but . . . who said that?”

“Can’t say. Go home. We’ll call you when she’s released, if you want.”

I called Hunter.

“It’s been a week since Hetty and Lauren were killed,” I said. “What’s happening with Johnny Jay?”

“Johnny Jay didn’t do it.”

“All the Kerrigans believe he did.”

Hunter let the silence grow and so did I.

“Johnny is questioning Carrie Ann right now,” I finally said.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Come down here and get her out. Or at least run interference for her.”

“You’re there? At the department?”

“Waiting for you.”

“Carrie Ann’s too close to me personally. I’m a lifelong friend and her AA sponsor. I consider it a conflict of interest to involve myself professionally at this point. The only right thing to do is distance myself from her while Johnny Jay does the questioning.”

“Where are you?”

“On my way to see Norm Cross.”

Call it intuition or premonition or whatever, but at that moment I knew exactly who the blabby witness was. Norm Cross had seen Carrie Ann in The Lost Mile.

Or so he said.

Ben rode shotgun. We drove through Moraine and out the other side of town. I took Creamery Road, but didn’t turn down Norm’s road. I didn’t want Hunter to know what I was up to.

Whatever words those two exchanged, I’d get from Norm after Hunter left, since my almost boyfriend wasn’t exactly sharing content with me. In fact, he’d driven me into the shadows, literally, because that’s where I found myself.

It was pitch dark when I parked in Country Delight’s apple orchard, where I could watch the road without anyone watching me. Pretty soon I expected Hunter’s SUV to pull out onto Creamery Road. Then I’d go in. Even though I was doing this strictly to help my cousin out of a really bad jam, I felt like a cross between Nancy Drew and V. I. Warshawsky. Not a bad feeling. Of course,
they
solved their cases. I wanted to follow in their footsteps.

So I waited.

Only Hunter didn’t come back out onto the road. Had I missed him already? It had taken me less than ten minutes to hightail it out of the police station and hide in the orchard, and Hunter hadn’t been at Norm’s yet when I talked to him on the phone.

If I really had missed him, then Norm hadn’t been home when Hunter showed up and he’d left right away. What if I sat here all night thinking Hunter was with Norm when he wasn’t?

What to do?

I could drive past Norm’s and see if Hunter was there.

That’s what I decided to do.

As I crept slowly toward Norm’s, I kept my truck lights off to be on the safe side. I didn’t want Hunter to spot me if he was outside. Which isn’t what I should have been most concerned with.

Because the sound of sirens was coming my way. Sirens never were a good thing.

I pulled over and called Hunter.

“What’s with the sirens?” I asked, really hoping they weren’t cop sirens.

“Ambulance,” Hunter said, which wasn’t any better. “Norm Cross had a heart attack. At least, that’s what I think happened.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s alive, but barely.”

“Do you want my help?” I said.

“No, it’s late. I’ll stop by your place as soon as I can.”

So with that, I swung around and headed home, passing an ambulance and cop car on the way.

Norm Cross finally had one slab of bacon too many. I wondered if he’d make it and, if not, who would bury him, since he and Hetty hadn’t had any kids. Surely they had family someplace?

I was about to turn onto my street, when I remembered something important.