Over Troubled Water: A Hunter Jones Mystery (14 page)

“Some of the local business people didn’t like him,” Taneesha said, “He could present problems for just about anybody who had to get a variance or wanted to put up a chain link fence.”

“You’re right about that,” Sam said. “But I don’t see anybody killing a bunch of people over a variance or a rezoning.”

“He didn’t have a girlfriend?” Taneesha asked. “Ever married.”

“If he did, nobody in city hall knew about it,” Sam said.

“Think he was gay, maybe?” Taneesha asked. “I could ask Robin and Colin if they knew.”

“You could,” Sam said, “I can’t see how that would have gotten him shot, but at least we could write off there being an angry husband out there.”

“Well, if I do ask, I’m not going to put it in writing, “Taneesha said, “Not and have Sanders Beale blurt it out at his next press conference.”

CHAPTER 11

A little before five, Mallory called Miss Rose Tyndale from work.

“One of my friends from high school is home, and I’m going over to have supper and visit with her,” she said. “I might be real late. We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

“Oh, it must be the Wagner girl,” her landlady said. “I heard she was home from Italy. And thank you for calling, dear. I know it’s none of my business where you go, but I do worry when it’s getting late, and I don’t see your little car in the driveway.”

“Well, don’t wait up,” Mallory said. “I’ll be fine.”

After she was off the phone, she noticed that Hunter was grinning.

“It’s just easier to let her know,” Mallory said, shrugging.

A half hour later, Deputy Skeet Borders rang the doorbell of the Jackson family home. China Carson’s older sister, India, had asked to meet there.

He had known India most of his life and dated her a few times in high school before he fell head-over-heels for Tamlyn, and India began to go steady with Burt Hilliard. That relationship had fallen apart years back when Burt went off to the University of Georgia, and she commuted to Georgia Southwestern. She ran a small daycare center now, and it seemed to be going well.

Tamlyn had been murdered during a time that Skeet tried not to think about much. It had turned out that she had some dark secrets, but she had still left him with the joy of his life, his little daughter, Madison.

He would have liked to catch up on India’s life, especially since he heard that she’d ended a long-term relationship with Charlie Mayo, but he wasn’t there to socialize.

“How is your mother doing?” he asked after she had invited him in and taken him to the comfortable old-fashioned den that he remembered from the dates they had in high school. There was the kind of sofa you sink into and two big overstuffed chairs, all covered in faded and flowered fabric. He chose a chair, and India curled up in the corner of the sofa. One of the Persian cats that Russell Carson had complained about came in and took a seat on the coffee table between them.

India was looking a little older but in a good way, Skeet thought. Her dark hair was down to her shoulders, and she was wearing jeans with a red silk shirt. He noticed that she was showing off her big brown eyes with makeup, and he wondered briefly if that was for him.

“Mom’s failing,” India said. “She talked for a little while after the stroke, but she was all mixed up. She doesn’t even recognize us. Harley says it wouldn’t make any difference to her if we put her in the nursing home, but she made us all promise that we never would, so we’re spending all her money on paying Martha Mae Harris to look after her. China and I were taking turns spending some nights here so Martha Mae can get a little time at home.”

She sighed.

“Now I’m thinking about just giving up my apartment and just moving back in,” she said. “Harley and his wife help as much as they can, but they’ve got kids, you know. And if I need to spend three nights a week over here and drop by on the other days, I might as well just move back into my old bedroom.”

“You’re a good daughter,” Skeet said. “I’m sorry you’ve had so much grief to deal with.”

“I’m doing what I have to do, but that’s not what you came here to talk about,” India said. “You want to talk about China, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Skeet said. “I understand she spent last Monday night here. I mean the night before the morning of the shooting.”

“Yes, she did,” India said. “In fact I’d been taking Mondays, but she said she’d take it because she was going to go bike riding early in the morning, and if it worked out that she liked it, she’d want to plan her turns here around the practice times. She wanted to start from here, in town, I mean, and have her clothes here so she could come back and shower and change in time for work. Martha Mae comes in about 6 a.m. so it was going to work out pretty well.”

“So it was China’s first time with the cycling group?” Skeet asked, and India nodded.

“She wanted to do it when they first announced it, but Russell didn’t think they could afford one of those expensive bikes. Then Sasha offered to lend China her bike and her helmet and riding outfit, too.”

She sighed.

“I wish she hadn’t! For that matter, I wish I had told her I wouldn’t swap nights with her.”

“India,” Skeet said sympathetically, “You can drive yourself crazy thinking that way. It wasn’t anybody’s fault but the one who had that gun.”

“Are y’all getting anywhere on finding out who it was?” she asked. “I heard Andy Chapman got arrested, but he’s already back out.”

Skeet decided to take the easy way out of that one.

“He was on his way to work when the shooting happened,” he said. “Part of the problem we had with him was about his not letting his sister in the house. It pretty much belongs to her now, and he wanted to lock her out. He never was really arrested.”

“Poor Sunshine,” India said. “I like her, and I liked her mother, too, but Andy’s always been weird. So what else do you want to know from me?”

“Before we get into this next subject, I want to apologize to you for having to find out on television that your sister was pregnant,” Skeet said. “We didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Taneesha called me,” India said. “It’s okay.”

She sat up on the edge of the sofa.

“I’ve been thinking about this, Skeet, and I guess we’ve got to have this talk. If Russell gets mad, then he gets mad. He’s not part of my family anymore anyway, and I’m not the only one who knows about it.”

“I can’t promise you it’s confidential,” he said.

“I know that,” India said, “Here goes. I was stunned when I heard that man say that on TV. So was Harley. I still can’t believe China knew, because she would have told me. She told me a half dozen times before when she was a little late and thought she might be. And then she’d get another one of those drugstore tests and cry because she wasn’t.”

India picked up a sofa pillow and hugged it.

“All I can think is that she didn’t know it herself because I think if she’d had a hint she would have found out for sure, and she would have been telling everybody, not riding up and down those hills on a bicycle.”

“Russell told Taneesha that she thought she was but she wasn’t sure yet,” Skeet said.

“He did?” India looked surprised. “When was that?”

Skeet thought about it and said, “It was the day after the shooting. We found out from the pathologist on Wednesday, and it was that afternoon. Taneesha told him.”

“But he didn’t tell Harley and me?” she said angrily. “Did Rondelle know?”

“She heard it when he did,” Skeet said.

“And she just let us find out from the television news,” India said flatly. “I can understand Russell’s not saying anything because he’s been about half-crazy, but Rondelle could have told us.”

“I got the impression she was kind of upset about it herself,” Skeet said.

“Rondelle?” India said with a scowl. “That woman never cared a thing about China, and she sure didn’t care about whether they had a baby or not. In fact, one time when China was upset about not getting pregnant, she told her that she’d heard that couples without children had happier marriages. She even told her one time that she was making Russell feel bad making such a fuss about it.”

“So you’re saying China really wanted a baby,” Skeet said.

“Yes, more than anything, and they tried for two years or more,” India said. “I sort of thought they had given up because she stopped talking about it, and then she really got into the weight loss class and the gym.”

She massaged her forehead with both hands.

“I don’t want to start crying again,” she said. “And I’m getting a headache. Can we finish this another time?”

“I’m sorry,” Skeet said. “Of course we can. This has been very helpful.”

She walked with him to the door, and he stopped to look at a set of four small framed drawings of flowers and birds. They were done in ink and with soft colors brushed in. Each one was signed China Rose in tiny script.

“She was really talented,” he said.

“We all thought so,” India said and then she added. “I mean our family did. I wish she had gone to art school instead of marrying Russell.”

Skeet had given some thought to asking India if she might like to go out to dinner sometime soon, but he decided that the timing wasn’t right.

“How was work?” Sam asked Hunter over supper.

“Tyler took charge in about five minutes,” she said. “He said ‘Hunter’s in charge until Wednesday’, and then he started giving orders.”

“Did you mind?” Sam asked.

“No,” she said. “To tell you the truth, I was relieved.”

“So why don’t you just stay home tomorrow if he’s got things under control?” Sam asked.

“I said I’d stay through getting this paper out,” Hunter said, “There’s a whole lot I can be doing that will make things go smoother this week and next week, too.”

“I’m picking you up Wednesday at noon,” he said, “We’ll go have lunch, and after that, you’re staying home.”

“I’m stopping work,” Hunter corrected him. “I’m certainly not going to stay home all the time!”

Mallory was having a very long talk with Sylvie Wagner. First she had heard all about Sylvie’s trip to Italy and her med school plans and then had opened up to her friend about the disastrous events of the summer before and how she was coming to terms with her stepmother’s murder.

“My job just about saved me through all that,” Mallory said. “Dad’s getting married again, which is okay with me. Sue-Ellen’s a nice woman and he needs somebody to help him run the business and look after him. Miranda and Chad have bought this huge house, and they have three dogs and a cat. They even took our old cocker spaniel, Merlin, which was great because Dad just wasn’t up to looking after him. And here I am—living in Miss Rose Tyndale’s upstairs apartment.”

‘Do you think you’ll stay here for good?” Sylvie asked. “I never imagined you staying in Merchantsville.”

“Me neither,” a deep male voice said from the doorway. “Is there any more pizza or did you two eat it all?”

“Timmy!” Mallory said. “You must be six feet tall!”

“It’s Tim, and I’m six one,” the lanky teenager said. “And you must be five two! You haven’t grown an inch.”

He was as fair-haired as his sister, dressed in cut off jeans and an orange t-shirt with an ominous skull on it. He had a laptop computer under one arm.

“There’s practically a whole pizza in there,” Sylvie said. “Mallory brought two in case you decided to be sociable.”

Tim wandered toward the kitchen, and Sylvie said, loud enough for him to hear, “I told Dad I was going to specialize in Digital-itis and try to save the younger generation from the delusion that the real world is on the web. The only way I could get Tim interested in my travels in Italy was by googling buildings and showing them to him on-line. He’s addicted to that computer.”

“I am not,” Tim said, wandering back in with the pizza box.

“So you’re going to tell me that it was homework that kept you from pizza?”

“Nope,” he said after his first bite was chewed and swallowed, “I was playing Brutal Battalion. Arrgface was having a bad time. He was nearly starved, and was too weak to get to the next chasm, so he had to find something to kill and eat, and then I realized that I was hungry myself.”

“It’s a game,” Sylvie said to Mallory. “Arrgface is Tim’s avatar. He’s either starving or freezing or getting chased into ravines every night.”

“Sounds like fun,” Mallory said. “Can I see?”

“Sure,” Tim said, handing her the laptop with one hand as he bit into a slice of pizza. “It’s asleep. All you have to do is touch the screen.”

Mallory opened it and saw a landscape of blacks and reds in a dramatic comic book style. A small female figure in camouflage and boots seemed frozen in flight, upside down.

“That’s Ninx, Shawnee Pickard’s avatar,” he said. “She’s in my AP History Class. Ninx is about to… oops.”

The tiny figure disappeared into a chasm.”

“Where’s yours?” Mallory asked. “I mean your avatar.”

“Arrgface is over here in the corner,” he said, “See behind that boulder? He needs to shoot something to eat, even if it’s an uncooked rat.”

“Ugggh,” Mallory said. “Are you winning or losing?”