Over Troubled Water: A Hunter Jones Mystery (6 page)

“Thanks,” Sam said.

Merchantsville City Hall was just beyond the downtown business district, with the Magnolia County Library on one side and the Board of Education Offices on the other. All three were newer by a century than the courthouse in the center of downtown, but Sam still preferred the old spires and the clock tower of the courthouse to the Williamsburg style of the other civic buildings. He just envied the size of their parking lots.

Hunter got out and came in with him only to discover that the Jordan’s discussion with the mayor had moved to the lobby. He introduced everyone, and Jack Jordan, who was holding a cardboard box full of his late son’s diplomas and certificates, nodded curtly.

Hunter explained that she had only come in to wait for Sam. Jim Jordan’s mother, a fragile blonde in her late fifties, seemed relieved to see another female face. She said, “I’ll sit over here with you while the men talk.”

Hunter expressed her sympathy when they had found the most comfortable sofa. Janice Jordan began to cry and then to talk in a soft voice.

“I just can’t take this in,” she said. “Why would anybody hurt our Jimmy? He was such a sweet boy and he worked so hard to get that degree. You know this job was just a starting point for him. We thought he’d wind up in one of the big cities. He graduated with highest honors from his masters program.”

“I know,” Hunter said, reaching for Janice Jordan’s hand. “I’m the editor of the paper, and I wrote the story about him for today’s paper. We got a lot of it from his resume, and all of the council members had such high praise for him.”

Jack Jordan’s voice was rising and falling. Hunter heard him say something about “coming down here with my own gun.”

“There’s a story in the paper?” Janice Johnson.

“I’ve got one right here if you’d like to take it with you,” Hunter said. She was a little worried at the reaction Jim Jordan’s mother might have to the headlines and the picture of the flowers on the bridge, but it turned out somehow to be just the right thing, and the grieving mother saw little beyond the burst of color and the picture of her son. Hunter was glad that the story was about Jim Jordan, the City Planner, not about Jim Jordan, the victim.

Jack Jordan seemed to be calming down as Sam patiently went over the steps that had already been taken and promised to keep him informed.

He lost his composure again, however, when Mayor Washington said that he and some of the city officials would like to know of the funeral arrangements and would make plans to be there.

“No,” the grieving father said in a sharp tone.”It’s going to be small and private. Just our family. And I don’t want any reminders of this place. All I want from any of you is for you to catch the bastard who did this.”

“Jack,” Janice said, getting up with the paper. “Look at the story they have about Jimmy in the paper.”

“Oh, let’s get out of here,” he snapped, ignoring the paper she offered him. “We still have to clear out his apartment.”

“I’m sorry I put you through that,” Sam said when they were pulling out of the parking lot. “I wasn’t expecting that you’d be in the middle that way.”

“I’m glad I was there,” Hunter said. “It seemed to me that they were both so broken-hearted they couldn’t be any help to each other.”

CHAPTER 4

Back at the courthouse after driving Hunter home, Sam found T.J. Jackson waiting.

“We got the report from the pathologist,” T.J. said. “Only one surprise.”

“What’s that?” Sam asked.

“China Carson was pregnant.”

“That is a surprise,” Sam said. “But we haven’t been able to talk with her husband yet. How far along was she?”

“Very early,” T.J. said. “They found out on a blood test.”

Taneesha looked surprised when Sam told her.

“This is the first I’ve heard of it, and that’s the sort of thing family members would mention. I’ll bring it up with Russell. “

“When are you going out to talk with him?” Sam asked.

“I’m meeting Jeremy for lunch,” she said. “It turns out he was Annie Chapman’s attorney. He just told me a little while ago after talking with her daughter. He’s going to tell me about the will. Skeet and I will go out there after that.”

A while after Sam returned to his office, a woman with long straight blonde hair showed up in his doorway. He hadn’t seen her since she was in her teens, but she looked so much like her mother, he knew her instantly.

“Sunshine,” he said, standing up. “I’m glad to see you.”

“Hi, Sheriff Bailey,” she said. “My mother’s lawyer said maybe you could help me talk my brother into letting me into my mom’s house. Actually, it’s my house, or it will as soon as the will is probated. I don’t know if Andy even knows about the will, but he’s changed the locks, and he’s in there refusing to come to the door or answer the phone. It’s the big blue house over on Clearview Circle.”

“I know the house well,” Sam said. “Have a seat and let’s talk.”

“I don’t want to have some big row with Andy,” she said, “For now, I just want to get into the house. I need to get some clothes for my mother to be buried in. I can stay at Hilliard House until after the funeral, but I’m going to need to put the house on the market, so I need access. I need a set of keys, and I need his cooperation.”

“Let’s work something out then,” Sam said, calmly. “What’s the number there? We need to get a statement from him, anyway.”

Sunshine gave it to him, but said, “I don’t think he’ll answer. He’s got a cell phone but I don’t have the number to that.”

The phone rang seven times before Annie Chapman’s voice came on with a recorded message.

“This is Annie. Please leave a message and have a blessed day.”

Sam left a message for Andy to call him back, but he doubted there’d be a response.

“Could we just wait until he leaves the house?” Annie asked. “He’s such a creature of habit that he’ll probably go back to work tomorrow, and I was thinking of getting my own locksmith.”

“I can’t believe the way you just didn’t happen to mention this last night,” Taneesha said to her husband after he had told her about his morning’s work. “There I was going on and on about how little we knew, and you knew something you could have told me.”

They were in their apartment having sandwiches made with Taneesha’s homemade pimiento cheese on her homemade bread. She was from a family of locally famous cooks and was carrying on the tradition with a few flourishes of her own.

“You’re not going to make me feel guilty,” Jeremy said with a good-natured smile. “Annie Chapman was my client, and now Sunshine Chapman’s my client. You haven’t heard me say one word about any of my clients’ business before now, have you?”

Taneesha gave him a reluctant shake of her head.

“No, you haven’t,” he said. “I wouldn’t even be telling you now, but she gave me the go-ahead since she’s going to talk with Sam about getting into the house. Right now she’s just concerned about getting some things of her mother’s, but she’s planning to sell it later.”

He took another bite of his sandwich and considered it in much the way he tasted wine.

“This is your best bread, yet.”

“Thank you,” Taneesha said with a smile. “Is she going to try to get her brother evicted?”

“Not if she can help it,” Jeremy said. “She’s a peacemaker. I think she’d like it if he’d just buy the house from her.”

“I wonder if he could have been the shooter,” Taneesha said, and then she considered it and shook her head. “No, the timing’s all wrong. He couldn’t have done it and gotten to work in Warner Robins on time. Shellie checked, and he clocked in over there at 8 a.m. Tuesday morning.”

“It doesn’t take an hour to drive to Warner Robins from here,” Jeremy said.

“Well, you’ve got to figure time for him to get away from the shooting scene. Sam thinks the shooter arrived and left on foot.”

“Too bad,” Jeremy said with a grin. “I’ve been hoping the firm would have somebody to defend in a major trial, and from what I hear, Andy Chapman would be a real challenge.”

Taneesha reached for the last cookie.

“He could have paid somebody to do it,” she said.

“Yes, he could have,” Jeremy said. “But the big question would be motive. He had a good deal the way things were. His mother didn’t like the way he was exploiting her, but she wasn’t confrontational. He had no rent, no property taxes, and no housing costs at all. He was driving his mother’s car with her paying the insurance. I don’t think he knew about the will, but even if he did, her death means that he loses big. I don’t see it. He may be antisocial, but my impression is that he’s very smart.”

“You’re already defending him,” Taneesha said.

Rondelle Carson was keeping an eye on her younger brother while she systematically called the customers on his schedule, explained the situation, and promised to call back and reschedule.

Russell Carson, like his late father who had started the family business, cleaned everything from fine carpets to septic tanks. The business, run from a prefabricated storage and office building in the backyard of the family home, was two miles east of the Merchantsville city limits. The area had been farmland and now was mostly planted in neat rows of pines for timber, with mobile homes here and there.

Rondelle was a Licensed Practical Nurse, with a job at the Magnolia County Medical Center. Her double-wide mobile home, which she had bought when her brother got married, was on the family land near the end of the long drive that led to Carson Cleaners. She knew the business and frequently pitched in to help with the appointments and billing.

“We can get to your pressure washing sometime next week,” she told the last customer. “I’ll call you back tomorrow on that.”

She sighed with relief as she put the list aside. She had tried to use the simple phrase, “death in the family” , but most of the customers had known about the shooting. They knew that China was Russell’s wife and Rondelle’s sister-in-law, and they felt obliged to offer a torrent of sympathy.

Rondelle responded with a quick “Thank you” each time but tried to steer them back quickly to the subject of cleaning.

She was a take-charge type, especially when it came to Russell. He had been born when she was 12 and had been her responsibility by his sixth birthday. That was when their mother took a trip on her own to visit her sister in California and sent a letter to tell her husband that she hadn’t bought a return ticket and wasn’t coming back.

Russell had been a bewildered little boy with an ill-tempered workaholic father, and Rondelle had delayed her education to stay at home with him for a year. She had been the closest thing he had to a mother from that point on.

Small and wiry like her mother’s side of the family, and plain-featured like her father’s side, Rondelle had never married. She did her share of complaining to her friends, but she took some pride in being a hard worker and good in a crisis.

This crisis was the worst she’d faced. She had never been close to China, but she knew that her brother adored his wife. She had seen plenty of bereaved family members in her hospital work, but she’d never seen anybody as out of control and wild with grief as Russell had been the day before. Now he was so silent and withdrawn that she was unwilling to leave him alone.

The night before, when he had worn himself out and collapsed in the bedroom China had decorated with so many frills, ruffles, and pictures, Rondelle had made a decision. She had taken his two hunting rifles out of the hall closet and out to her car where she had locked them in her trunk.

Now she heard a car pull into the curved driveway and frowned. She didn’t feel up to another round of sympathy and casserole dishes, and Russell wasn’t in any shape to see people.

She looked out the window to see the blue and white cruiser from the Magnolia County Sheriff’s Office. She was relieved to see Skeet Borders getting out of the driver’s side. Taneesha Hays had given up on trying to talk with Russell the day before, and now, Rondelle saw, she was back with Skeet.

That was good, Rondelle thought. Skeet might have more luck with Russell.

She met them at the door.

“I don’t know if he’ll talk to you,” she said in a low voice, “He’s calmed down now, but he’s hardly saying a word. I haven’t even been able to get him to eat, and I’m worried about him. I took his hunting rifles out and put them in the trunk of my car last night.”

“That was a good idea,” Skeet said. “We’re going to need to take a look at them if you don’t mind.”

She found her car keys and handed them to him.

“Why don’t you look now?” she said. “He’s probably going to be mad when he finds out what I did. I’m hoping he won’t notice for a while. We’ll wait ’til you get back to try to get him to come out and talk.”

Skeet took the keys and went back out the front door.

“Where is he now?” Taneesha asked.

“In that fancy bedroom of theirs,” Rondelle said. “I’ve heard him slamming things around, so I know he’s awake. I’ll go try to get him come out and talk.”

“Do you have any ideas of your own about this crime?” Taneesha asked her. “Did you know of anybody who had a dislike for China?”

“No,” Rondelle said. “I think it must have somebody mentally ill. Probably copycatting those other shooters that are on the news, only this one didn’t want to get caught or shot like the others seem to. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and it will turn out that he went off somewhere and shot himself.”