Murder in the Milk Case (21 page)

I put my arms around her. We had a lot to work out, but this was a start.

Detective Scott asked me to explain what happened at the library, which I did. Then I asked Karen to go upstairs and take a hot bath. I had a couple of things to ask the detective that I didn’t want her to hear.

After she was gone, I met his gaze. “I know Jim Bob wasn’t killed with the knife. I think he was already dead when he was stabbed, probably by Frank, since he was so terribly concerned about the knife and acted like he wanted to point the finger at a meat cutter. Big fat tattletale. I think Lee Ann killed Jim Bob. Maybe with that hammer I told you about. Remember what Lee Ann told Karen about me smashing in Peter-Carey’s head?”

Detective Scott said nothing. Neither did Max.

“Well?” I asked.

The detective stood. “I’m not at liberty to discuss any of that.”

The statement was so like him that I laughed.

Chapter Twenty-One

That evening would be forever etched in my mind, as I’m sure it would be in Karen’s. God had used a bad situation for good. Since that night, Karen and I had reached an understanding of sorts. She finally understood how much I loved her, but the emotions that had been driving her hadn’t totally disappeared. During our first emergency counseling session with the pastor, I realized the anger she directed at me was misplaced. She was really angry that God had allowed her real mother to die, and for some reason, it had taken this long to surface.

Max’s PI hadn’t discovered anything about Russ, Lindsey, or the stop sign. I had to admit a certain feeling of satisfaction that he hadn’t made progress and he was a professional, although I really wanted to know.

I picked out my cruise. Almost a month later, when the time drew near, I began to make lists, which I promptly lost. I had to buy clothes. That wasn’t one of my favorite things to do. Especially dressy ones. I’m a jeans and sweatshirt kind of girl. But when I saw the red evening gown at the mall, I knew it was perfect. Given the cut and how it fell just right, I was pretty sure Max would get that gleam in his eyes when he saw it, so I’d keep it a secret until I wore it on the ship.

I had two errands to do on my way home. The first was a visit to the sheriff’s office to see Detective Scott. He’d called and requested that I come by.

When I entered the building, I felt guilty, even though I’d done nothing. I told the guy behind a glass window in the waiting area that I was there to see Detective Scott. He told me to be seated, but it wasn’t long before the detective himself came to get me. After he greeted me, he led me back into the inner sanctum and up the stairs and surprised me when he didn’t lead me to the interview room. Instead, he took me to his office.

“Have a seat, please,” he said.

I settled into a chair and put my purse on the floor. On the credenza behind him was a picture of a girl who looked to be high school age.

I turned my gaze on him and saw a smile on his face.

He tapped a folder on his desk. “I have some good news for you.”

Was it possible? I leaned forward. “Russ?”

Detective Scott nodded. “Yes. I don’t think he did it.”

I began to cry, something I’d been more prone to since I’d gotten pregnant. Detective Scott handed me a tissue.

“Who did it?” I sniveled.

“We suspect Tim, Daryl’s brother. But my first lead came from an interesting source.”

“Who?” I asked as I wiped my nose. “You. Then your parents.”

That dried up my tears. “What?”

He grinned. “You’d mentioned that box of doughnuts your mother delivered to Jim Bob. I had to follow up on that, although I didn’t suspect her, so I went to your parent’s house to chat. Your father was there. When she broke down and confessed that Jim Bob was blackmailing her, he got upset and asked her why she never told him. She said, like you, she’d seen the stop sign and thought Russ had stolen it. Your father informed both of us that Tim Boyd had given the sign to Russ. He didn’t think a lot of it at the time; he figured it was Tim’s to give. Anyway, after several meetings with Daryl, where I tried to, er, convince him to tell me the truth, he finally admitted that he suspected his brother, too.”

Poor Daryl probably confessed because he had been tortured by the tapping of Detective Scott’s pen, just like I had been. And I found it just a little disturbing that my mother and I had both been threatened by the same person and both of us had kept it a secret from our husbands. I did not want to be like my mother.

I looked at Detective Scott. “So what happens now?”

He sighed. “Case closed. Tim is dead. I told Max this morning and asked him to let me tell you. He’s going to tell Lindsey’s parents. He doesn’t think they’ll want any publicity.”

I was sure, too. Lindsey’s parents were friends of the Cunninghams and, like them, despised bad publicity. My heart ached for them. And for Max.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You’re welcome.”

I shifted in my chair. “Can you answer some questions for me while I’m here?”

He briefly tapped his pen on the desk then put it down. “I still can’t answer everything, but I’ll tell you what I can.”

“That’ll do,” I said. “What’s going on with Frank?”

“He’s been charged with embezzlement. Since he stabbed a dead guy, we can’t charge him with murder. And since he thought Jim Bob was alive, he can’t be charged with messing with a corpse or a crime scene.”

“I’ll bet lawyers said that. It’s full of loopholes.” I thought about Calvin Schiller.

Detective Scott laughed. “Yep.”

“What about Lee Ann?” I bit my lip. I’d begun to feel guilty that I hadn’t seen the whole thing coming and somehow prevented it. Despite what she’d done, I couldn’t forget all the time we’d spent together.

The detective shook his head. “We have enough evidence to prove that she killed two men. She’s been arrested, as has Norm, for the landfill fiasco.”

“Where is Julie?” I asked.

“She’s gone to be with some relatives. A grandmother, I think.”

“Poor thing,” I said.

“I hate it when kids are affected by crime,” Detective Scott said softly, glancing at the picture on his credenza.

“Is that your daughter?” I asked.

He nodded, then inhaled, and turned back to me. “So are you done with your questions?”

“No,” I said. “Jim Bob was blackmailing Lee Ann about the landfill, wasn’t he? I’ll bet he found out somehow from April’s boyfriend. Lee Ann smashed Jim Bob with that hammer, didn’t she?”

Detective Scott shook his head. “I’m listening.”

“And she and Norm were running away, weren’t they? I think he made money in paybacks at the landfill for accepting out-of-state trash.” I laid my arms on his desk. “Then Peter-Carey started threatening her like he did me, so she killed him, right?” I paused.

“I’m still listening,” the detective said.

Would he answer any of my questions? I’d try something else. “How did Jim Bob’s body get behind the milk?”

“Well, it’s still a matter of some speculation on my part.” He eyed me. “And please don’t talk about this with anyone, okay?”

At least he was going to trust me with something.

“We think Lee Ann lost her temper with Jim Bob and whacked him with the hammer that she was taking to Daryl. She didn’t think she’d killed him at first.” He squinted at me. “She must have left Jim Bob somewhere in a back room. When she checked on him again, he was dead. That’s where Frank comes in.

“Frank was on a rampage about knives. He was adamant about keeping things in their proper place, so perhaps he was taking one back to where it belonged in the meat department. He saw Jim Bob, thought he was unconscious, and stabbed him. Then he put him on that cart and wheeled him somewhere to keep him hidden.”

“Didn’t either one of them think they’d be caught?” I asked. “Sounds stupid.”

Detective Scott grinned. “That’s what makes my job easier. If crooks were smart, we wouldn’t be able to catch them. Besides, much of the staff was absent that morning with the flu. That made hiding Jim Bob a lot easier.”

“Well, how did Jim Bob end up behind the milk?”

“We think Lee Ann looked for him and finally found the cart. When she saw that he’d been stabbed, she shoved the cart into the cold room where he could be found easily. She hoped the police would think he’d been stabbed to death and that his head had been bashed as he fell.”

I thought about Lee Ann and the possible things that had driven her to the point of murder. I looked at my finger and bit at my nail. “I feel bad about all this. I keep wondering if there was anything I could have done differently. Maybe if I’d been closer to Lee Ann in recent years, she would have talked instead of killing. And poor Frank. He’s annoying and all, but when I beat him up in school, do you think I messed up his mind?”

Detective Scott shook his head. “One thing I can say without any hesitation. This was not your fault. I’ve seen a lot in my job, more bad than good, I’m afraid. Maybe you weren’t the kindest person when you were young. Maybe you made some mistakes, but I can say without

a doubt that you’re one of the good people.” He grinned. “Maybe a little stubborn and impetuous, but still very nice.”

I blinked. Had he just said something sweet to me?

He stood. “Don’t look so surprised. I can be nice, too.”

“Thank you.” I grabbed my purse and jumped to my feet. “I have to finish packing. Max is taking me on a cruise for a whole week.”

“I heard. Please have fun. You deserve it after all this. Now you can leave it all behind. When you come back, your life can return to normal.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted my life to return to normal. I didn’t like my kids being threatened, or even me, but I did like making mystery lists and thinking about them.

He walked around his desk and picked up something from the floor. “You might want this.”

I took my phone from his hand. He walked me out the door and stood there as I walked down the hall. I had a thought and turned around. “Next time, I’ll let you see my notebook,” I said. “It was quite thorough, if I do say so myself.”

His mouth fell open. “Next time?”

I didn’t answer, just turned around and chuckled all the way to my car. My visit with Detective Scott left me in a good frame of mind to deal with the next thing I needed to face. Before I could truly leave things behind, I had to beat my foe. The milk case at the Shopper’s Super Saver. I hadn’t been back since the murder.

I hurried to the back of the store to get it over with. As I stood in front of the glass doors, looking at gallons of milk, I remembered that horrible morning. Poor Jim Bob. He had been a very nasty man, but no one deserved to die like that.

“Trish?”

I whirled around. “Daryl.”

He wore the red Shopper’s Super Saver manager’s jacket. He’d gotten a promotion. Dweeb that he’d been, I suddenly saw what Abbie meant. He wasn’t bad as men went, although he wasn’t Maxwell Cunningham by any stretch of the imagination. Strangely, Daryl’s new position fit him. I found myself hoping that maybe some new self-respect would help him be more confident in his marriage.

“Hi,” I said and glanced behind me at the milk. “This is the first time I’ve been back since. . .you know.”

He nodded. “Why don’t you take three gallons of milk free for your pain. And. . .” He sighed. “As an apology for the road sign thing. I’m sorry. I was trying to protect my brother’s reputation.”

Who was I to throw stones, as my mother would say. I had done the same. “It’s over now, Daryl. And I’m sorry, too.”

“Listen, Trish—” He moved closer to me. “I owe you big time, and not just for that.” “For what?”

He glanced around. “Well, I know that without your help, I might have been arrested for Jim Bob’s murder. My fingerprints were on that hammer. I was hanging certificates in my office that morning. I managed to break some glass while I was at it, as well as smash my thumb.”

Another answer to a question. That’s why he’d been at the doctor’s office.

“You know, Daryl, I didn’t help with the investigation. I was a suspect, too. I mean—”

“Don’t be modest. Your mother has been telling everyone what you did.” He smiled at me. “You’re a real sleuth.”

Epilogue

Moonlight over the ocean is one of the most romantic sights in the world, especially wrapped in the arms of a man like Max. I leaned back against his chest, and his arms tightened around my shoulders.

I loved our cozy little deck. Although we’d attended a fancy dinner with the captain tonight, we’d eaten most of our meals out here alone, watching the water, discussing topics as mundane as our favorite cheeses and as complicated as world politics. We explored our faith, grateful to God for what we had and for each other. I had my wish—time alone with Max. Without guilt.

This was better than a honeymoon. No newlywed nerves to get over or awkwardness to work through. In the familiarity, we’d discovered things about each other that we’d never known before.

“Baby, are you happy?” Max nibbled my neck.

“Mmm.”

“Your dress makes me crazy.” He kissed my ear.

I smiled to myself. The red gown did exactly what I’d hoped.

He laid a hand on my stomach. “You haven’t been sick since we left.”

“No coffee. I feel really good.” Content. Peaceful.

“I’m happy, too,” he said. “Having another baby seems right, somehow. Like confirmation of how much I love you. Of our love for each other and God’s love for us.”

He couldn’t have said anything nicer. I extricated myself from his arms and turned around to face him. His black tuxedo and my dress added a dash of sophistication and mystery to the night, like we were the hero and heroine in one of Abbie’s novels. I ran his lapels between my fingers. Talk about making someone crazy. Nobody looks better in a suit than Max. I glanced up at his face.

He smiled and touched my cross necklace. “You’re still wearing it.”

“It means as much to me as my wedding ring,” I said, thinking how much Max meant to me and how grateful I was to God for him and my family.

He ran a finger over my lips. “I’m glad it’s all over.” His eyes looked fathomless in the moonlight.

“What’s over?” I murmured as I kissed his neck.

“Murder and mayhem. Police investigations.”

“Oh. That.” I didn’t want to admit to Max that I missed writing down clues.

He pulled me closer. I leaned my head against his chest, listening to the solid thump of his heart and sighed with pleasure. No interruptions. No children knocking at the door. No ringing phones. Just me and Max.

He stepped back, looked me up and down, and his eyes gleamed. “How about let’s go inside.”

I smiled. All of Max’s attention was on me. As single-minded as he was, that made for lots of fun. I, however, was more easily distracted, even from him for once. As we stepped back into our cabin, I told myself that when I got home, I was going to buy more steno pads, which were easy to use and transport. Maybe something would come up. I sort of liked solving mysteries.

###

About Spyglass Lane

Spyglass Lane Mysteries is a collection of Christian cozy mysteries—modern-day whodunnits with colorful characters and plenty of wholesome romance.

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