Thirty-Four and a Half Predicaments: Rose Gardner Mystery #7 (27 page)

I had to take a deep breath to slow my racing heart. “I think you know more about the money and the deal than you’re sayin’. And I just love a good story about corporate intrigue.” I glanced back at Jed, then lowered my voice. “We’ll keep it between just us three.”

He looked torn for a moment, but there wasn’t a clearer out for him than there’d been a moment before. Jed hadn’t budged from his seat by the door.

“You can’t be spreading this around,” Dirk said, leaning toward me.

“I won’t. Promise.”

He licked his lips. “It all started in the summer, like I told you. Buchanan had been talkin’ layoffs, but next thing we knew, we were changing the line and we all still had jobs. But around August, we were havin’ some problems with the rivets. Gardner was helpin’ with quality control tests and I heard him tellin’ Dora some of the pieces were failing. Henry was fit to be tied when he found out. If we didn’t deliver, he was gonna lose it all. But the investor didn’t care. He said to keep on makin’ ’em. There was too much money on the line for us to stop.” He shifted in his seat. “I couldn’t stand back and let them bilk the buyer, so I let Dora and Buchanan know I was…aware of the situation.”

“What’d they do?” Neely Kate asked.

“They told me to keep my mouth shut.”

“And did you?” I asked.

“Well… If anyone found out, a lot of men would have lost their jobs.”

I didn’t point out that a lot of men had ended up losing their jobs anyway. Or the defective parts could have been built into planes, causing equipment malfunction and potentially plane crashes.

“Well, what were you to do?” Neely Kate asked, sounding sympathetic. “You had to help those poor men.”

“Dora quit after that. Said she didn’t have the stomach for it, but Gardner wouldn’t back down. He kept insistin’ someone had to know. Then Dora came back to the office right after Thanksgiving, bringing her brand-new baby with her. She shouted at Henry about not takin’ care of their baby, then the next day Gardner told me on the sly that Dora had found someone to help them out of the mess they were in.”

“Do you know who it was?”

“No, but the first shipment was due to go out a few days after Dora came in and threw her fit. Maybe that’s why she decided to make one last stand. I was gettin’ nervous about the whole thing, and when I found out what the parts were for—U.S. military planes—I
freaked out.
We weren’t just messin’ with some company. It was the dadgum U.S. government. I didn’t want to do no jail time. But Gardner said to hold my horses. It was bein’ taken care of.”

“What did that mean?” I asked.

“Dunno. The fire wiped out everything a few days later, the night before the shipment was to go out. I suspected that’s what he was talkin’ about.”

I grabbed the edge of the table as the blood rushed from my head. “You think Gardner started the fire?”

He looked down at the table. “Could be.”

Had my father really torched the factory? The man I’d known could hardly stomach killing a fly. “Dora died in a car accident a week later.”

“Yeah.”

“And Henry Buchanan hung himself days after that.”

“He shot the wad. His mistress was dead and his company had burned down. And the government contract was gone, so he had nothing. At least his wife got his life insurance. A nice fat policy.”

I stared at him in silence, too stunned to say anything.

“Just the insurance policy? What about the factory?” Neely Kate asked, emerging from her alcohol-induced stupor. “Surely there was money to be made from it.”

He shrugged. “Never sold. It got tied up in probate. Henry had his lawyer create a paper saying there were three heirs, but he didn’t provide a name for the third. Since they couldn’t find him or her, they couldn’t do anything with it.”

“So it’s just stuck?” I asked.

“Henry’s will was pretty strict. The family was fit to be tied. But there’s a time limit. Twenty-five years from when it was logged into probate. That limit’s up in another couple of weeks.”

I squinted at him. He seemed to know a lot about a will that had nothing to do with him. But then again, some people became obsessed with pieces of their past. Maybe this was one of those situations. But I quickly moved onto
couldn’t find one of the heirs
. What if I was Henry’s daughter and it was me they were looking for? I felt like I was going to throw up.

“You got any more questions?” he asked, looking at the door like he wanted to bolt.

“One more,” I said. I wasn’t about to let him go until the biggest question of all had been answered. “I need to know the name of the big shot. The man behind it all.”

He shook his head, his eyes wide with terror.

“
The name
,” I stated with bite behind my words. Neely Kate shot me a surprised look.

Dirk glanced back at Jed, then at me, still terrified. He licked his lips and looked around the room. When he didn’t see anyone else paying us any mind, he said, “If y’all ever tell anyone I said it, I’ll deny it and call you bald-face liars.”

I squared my shoulders. “I can live with that.”

“Okay.” He licked his lips again. “I heard Dora tell Buchanan a name. I only heard it once, right before she quit. She told him she was sorry she’d ever introduced the guy to Buchanan in the first place. She said the guy was unhappy, and I’d never seen Buchanan look so scared.”

“And what was that name?” I asked.

“J.R. Simmons.”

I’d never felt such a volatile mixture of emotions at once—fear, disgust, elation that we’d gotten solid information, but then the aftertaste of utter horror.

If Dora had been the one to introduce J.R. Simmons to Henry Buchanan, how had she met him? And worse, could he be the older married man Dora had carried on with in the December and January before I was born?

“Can I go now?” Dirk asked, looking over at Jed rather than at me. He didn’t look too good—he was paler than ever and he seemed pretty close to losing his beers.

I’d scared the bejiggers out of him. But then, if J.R. Simmons was involved in this mess somehow, I could see why. Especially since a lot of people who were connected to the factory had died—whether “accidentally” or otherwise.

I needed more information. I needed to have a vision. The question was how to steer it. I thought about the visions I’d had for Skeeter as the Lady in Black. I usually saw the person telling someone else the information I needed to know. Someone like Dirk was bound to share his secrets with someone, and I’d bet anything he’d contact them after he left. If I could see who it was, maybe I could track them down.

“Just one more thing.” I reached out and grabbed his wrist, closing my eyes and concentrating on whom he’d contact about Atchison.

The vision was strong, hitting me with more force than most. I was suddenly in a car, a phone pressed to my ear.

“Beverly, someone knows,” I said, my voice rising in panic.

“Knows what?” a woman’s voice asked.

“About the fire at the factory. About the parts. About the blackmail.
All of it
. They were talkin’ about a diary.”

“Okay, calm down,” she said, her tone soothing. “
Who
knows?”

“A woman and her friend hustled me in the pool hall and forced me to tell them.”

“What are their names?”

“Rose, and I didn’t catch the one who did the hustling. Rose was the one askin’ most of the questions. She knew things.” I swallowed, starting to hyperventilate. “We’re gonna go to jail.”

“Calm down, Dirk. I’ve got everything under control. No one’s going to jail. They’re bluffing.”

The vision faded and I was left with a splitting headache and overwhelming nausea. “No one’s goin’ to jail.”

He looked at me like I was a crazy person. And since he already thought I was out of my mind, I might as well go for broke.

“You were blackmailing Henry Buchanan, weren’t you?”

Neely Kate gasped.

Dirk’s mouth dropped open and terror filled his eyes. “What are you talkin’ about?” He tried to jerk out of my grasp, but I held on tight.

“How does Beverly fit in?”

He pulled free with enough force to fall off the stool.

As Dirk recovered and regained his balance, Jed walked over to us, crossing his arms and making a very imposing presence. “Are you done with him?”

I could press the Beverly issue, but that would include getting Jed involved. And while that was tempting, I wasn’t ready to blur the line between the Lady-in-Black world and my real world. I’d find another way. “Yeah,” I nodded. “He can go.”

Dirk ran for the entrance and I looked over my shoulder to watch him. I was surprised to see Skeeter perched on one of the stools at the bar, his arm draped on the edge of the counter, his gaze directly on me. He certainly didn’t look happy.

“We need to go,” I said to Neely Kate, getting to my feet. “We have to follow him. Maybe we can find Beverly.”

“Who’s Beverly?” she asked as she tried to get down, but she swayed like a sailor on shore leave. “Why’s the room spinning?”

She was in no shape to be chasing after him. I swallowed my disappointment and pushed her back onto the stool. “I’m gonna get you a glass of water. Wait here.”

I walked over to the bar, worried about how Skeeter would react to me showing up in the pool hall, but I was too irritated to take any crap. I ignored him as I asked the bartender for two waters. When he walked out of earshot to get them for me, Skeeter leaned his forearms against the counter. “What are you workin’ on?”

“Something personal. Nothing that concerns you.”

“Anything you do concerns me. Why are you interrogating Dirk Picklebie in my pool hall?”

I turned to face him, putting my hand on my hip. “Because that’s where he happened to be.” I lowered my voice. “Believe me, I’m not very happy about bein’ here either.”

Jed walked over, keeping his gaze on the front door. “Skeeter, he mentioned J.R. Simmons.”

Skeeter’s eyes hardened. “Now it
is
my business.”

My mouth dropped open. “You have business with
J.R. Simmons?
”

His eyebrows rose, but the rest of his face was expressionless. “Do
you?
”

There was no way I was going to tell him about my issue with J.R., although part of me wondered if maybe I
should
. But what was Skeeter’s association with Joe’s father? I knew he’d never offer the information willingly, especially without getting anything in return, so I decided to change tactics. “What do you care about something that happened twenty-five years ago?”

“What happened twenty-five years ago that’s piqued your interest?”

“The Atchison Manufacturing fire.”

He studied my face. “Why are you diggin’ into that old business?”

I took a deep breath and pushed it out in frustration. “I already told you. It’s
personal
.”

“Her father had something to do with it,” Jed murmured.

I shot Jed a look that hopefully said
stay out of this
.

The bartender handed me the waters, clearly confused by all the attention Skeeter and his right-hand man were showing me. First Neely Kate and I had been hitting on a drunken derelict and now I was in an intimate conversation with his bosses. I winked at him. “Thank you.” Then I shot Skeeter a dirty look and stomped back over to our table with the glasses.

If I’d thought I could dismiss Skeeter so easily, I was dead wrong. He slid into the seat Dirk had vacated as I set Neely Kate’s water on the table. As soon as she realized who was sitting across from her, she froze.

Skeeter’s head lowered and his eyes glittered with anger. “I’m not done talkin’ to you.”

I glared at him in defiance. “Well, I’m done talkin’ to
you
. How many times do I have to say this is none of your business? It doesn’t concern you, Skeeter Malcolm. Leave it alone.”

His face turned red and he shot Jed a glance I couldn’t decipher.

Neely Kate picked up her glass of water and took a sip, her hand shaking. Her attention was on Skeeter.

“You’re scaring my friend, Skeeter,” I added. “Mind your manners.”

His jaw worked, then he took a deep breath as though trying to keep his cool. “We can avoid that if you’ll just answer my questions.”

Jed pulled up a fourth stool between Neely Kate and me. “Rose, you have to know that since you help Skeeter, he’s more than happy to help you. I think he’s frustrated that you didn’t ask.” He looked up at his boss and raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t that right, Skeeter?”

Skeeter ignored him. “What the hell are you doin’ questioning Dirk Picklebie in my pool hall?”

I threw up my hands. “So we’re back to that, are we?”

“You didn’t answer my question!” he shouted and Neely Kate cringed.

I heard movement behind me, followed by the racket of the front door slamming shut.

Now I was well and truly ticked. I pointed my finger in his face and lowered my voice so the teens playing pool couldn’t hear, which was a moot point when I realized they’d run out of the place. “You may own me as the Lady in Black, Skeeter Malcolm, but what I do when I’m not wearing that hat and veil is
my business
. I’ll question
whoever I want!
”