Killer Words

by V. M. Burns

  I whispered, “She was his math teacher.”

  “That was elementary school.”

  I shrugged.

  “It doesn’t matter how long ago it was,” Nana Jo said. “He’s a man in need. Surely, you two can stop thinking about yourselves long enough to show some compassion to a fellow human being in need of assistance?”

  “If you’re going to put it like that.” Jenna sipped her tea. “However, I have to be in court in an hour.”

  “Well, good thing you’re here. The courthouse is just down the hall, so you don’t have far to go.”

  Before Jenna could reply, a short, stocky woman came out. I’d seen her around when I’d come to visit Detective Pitt in the past. “My name’s Sergeant Matthews.”

  We followed the sergeant down a narrow hall to a small conference room. There were two chairs and a small conference table. Sergeant Matthews left and came back with one folding chair and one chair she’d obviously borrowed from someone’s desk. She left, and just a short while later she returned with Detective Pitt.

  He looked old, tired, and pathetic. The hairs that usually covered his bald dome were standing at attention. He sat in the chair behind the table. Sergeant Matthews left the room, closing the door behind her.

  For a few moments, Detective Pitt seemed confused. “Why are you here? They told me my lawyer was here.”

  “You have an attorney?” Jenna said. “That’s good.” She grabbed her briefcase and stood. “I certainly don’t want to infringe on another attorney’s turf.”

  “I don’t have an attorney . . . not really. The police union sent someone over, but he wants me to take a deal.” He wiped the back of his neck. “I’m innocent. I don’t want a deal, but he said if I go to trial, then things will be worse. He was going to try to get me into one of those low-security prisons. With good behavior, it might be two to three years.”

  “You mean, he wants you to plead guilty?” Nana Jo asked.

  He nodded.

  “Is that what you want?” Jenna asked.

  He thought about it. Finally, he shook his head. “What I want is to go home. I want this whole nightmare to be over.” He took a deep breath. “But I want a chance to tell my side of the story, to clear my name, even if that means I have to go to trial.” He sighed. “Anyway, I was going to have the public defender’s office send someone over.” He glanced toward Jenna. “I can’t afford to pay you, so no use wasting your time.” He stood.

  Jenna sat. “Well, if you want to use a public defender, that’s fine too. If there’s someone particular you’d feel more comfortable talking to . . . I understand.”

  He bowed his head. “Maybe you missed the part where I said I can’t afford to pay you.”

  Jenna took a deep breath. “Well, then today is your lucky day.”

  He grunted. “Lucky? You call this lucky?”

  “I was given a special grant so your legal defense is covered if you want me to represent you.”

  He narrowed his eyes and scowled. “What type of grant?”

  “What difference does it make?” Nana Jo said. “Stop being difficult and sit down and tell us what happened.”

  Detective Pitt may have been a police detective, but he recognized the authority behind my grandmother’s words and sat.

  “Wait,” Jenna said. “I’m a lawyer, and if I represent you, then anything you tell me is confidential.” She pointed to me and Nana Jo. “They are not your lawyers and are not protected. They could be subpoenaed to testify against you. Anything you say in front of them could be used against you. If you’d like them to leave I—”

  I grabbed my purse and stood up but was surprised when Detective Pitt waved a hand.

  “I don’t care if they stay. I don’t have anything to hide. I didn’t kill John Cloverton.”

  I sat down.

  “Didn’t I tell you?” Nana Jo said to me.

  Detective Pitt gave me a look that made me feel a need to defend myself. “I never said he killed anyone.”

  Jenna glanced at her watch and then pulled out a small tape recorder from her briefcase. “Do you mind if I record this? I don’t have much time, and I don’t want to miss anything.”

  He shook his head, and Jenna turned on her tape.

  “Interview with Detective Bradley Pitt.” Jenna continued with the date and indicated that both I and Nana Jo were present. For good measure, she asked again if Detective Pitt wanted us to leave. He said no, and she placed the recorder in front of him and asked him to tell her what happened.

  Detective Pitt took several deep breaths. “I drove to MISU and arrested him.” He pointed a finger at Nana Jo and me. “They were there. They saw everything.”

  “Why did you arrest him? What were the charges?”

  Detective Pitt squirmed.

  “And why did you go to the campus to arrest him?” Nana Jo said. “Why not wait until after the class?”

  “I’ll ask the questions,” Jenna said.

  “I wanted to embarrass him a bit,” Detective Pitt said, “the way he’d embarrassed me on Sunday at The Avenue.”

  I leaned forward. “What did he whisper to you that made you so angry that you punched him?”

  I saw the color rise from his neck up to his face, but he clamped his mouth shut and remained silent.

  Nana Jo and I were former teachers, and Jenna was an attorney. We understood the value of silence, and we used it.

  Detective Pitt held out for quite some time, but just like everyone else, he eventually caved in to the endless silence. “It was personal.”

  Again, we waited.

  The silence circled him like a shark circling its prey until he rolled his eyes, leaned forward, and whispered, “He commented about . . .” He coughed. “He commented on the size . . . He questioned . . .” He squirmed, and his face turned red. Finally, he sank back in his seat and mumbled, “He questioned my manhood.”

  Stunned, Nana Jo and Jenna exchanged glances. Eventually, I leaned forward. “I’m sorry, and it’s really none of my business, but . . . well, how would he know? I mean, if you two were . . . well, a couple, then that would—”

  “Whoa, Nellie. Hold up. A couple? Who? Me and John Cloverton? Are you out of your mind?”

  “If you’re not gay, then why was he questioning your manhood?” Nana Jo asked.

  “She must have told him.”

  I saw the same confusion I felt reflected on the faces of both my grandmother and my sister. This time, it was Jenna’s turn to break the silence. “She? Who is she?”

  “Mildred. ”

  “You were . . . ah, intimate with Mildred Cloverton?” I asked.

  “Of course. We were married for over ten years.” He stared at us. “Mildred Lynn Cloverton was my wife.”

  Chapter 8

  I don’t know if I was more shocked by the fact that Mildred Cloverton was Detective Pitt’s ex-wife or the fact that Detective Pitt ever had a wife. I asked Nana Jo, but while she’d once been Pitt’s teacher, she’d lost touch with him until much later, so she’d been as shocked as me. I tried to shake it off, but it was a struggle. I’m not sure I remembered much more of his interview after that. My mind kept drifting back to Mildred Cloverton had been Mrs. Stinky Pitt.

  Jenna must have gotten what she needed, because she turned off the recorder and packed up her notepad. After instructing Detective Pitt not to talk to the police or anyone else without her present, she hurried off to court.

  I must have driven back to the bookshop, because Nana Jo and I were there, but my mind was stuck in a loop and kept replaying the message, Stinky Pitt was married. Thankfully, the morning at the bookstore didn’t require a lot of mental energy. When customers knew what they wanted, it was merely a matter of helping them check out and bagging purchases. I could manage that on autopilot. Nana Jo tackled the few people who needed recommendations, which was perfect. She had a flair for helping people who were new to mysteries find the subgenre that appealed most by asking a few questions like, �
�What’s your favorite color?” “Favorite movie?” “Favorite drink?” I had no idea how she did it, but time and time again, customers came back and told me how spot-on her recommendations were.

  Just before noon, the twins came to help out.

  “How did you know I needed help?” I asked my nephews.

  Christopher held up his phone. “Nana Jo sent a text.”

  Once again, I was grateful my grandmother hadn’t been mesmerized by the idea of Stinky Pitt being married and had arranged coverage so we could meet the girls for lunch.

  Shady Acres had a van that made trips to downtown North and South Harbor multiple times each day, but I wasn’t surprised when we arrived and didn’t see the girls. The same hostess who had greeted me the day before told us that they were upstairs.

  I glanced behind the bar and was disappointed when I didn’t see Frank mixing drinks. Instead, his assistant, Benny Lewis, stood in Frank’s spot. He glanced up and waved.

  I climbed the stairs that led up to the second floor. Unlike my building, which was just down the street, Frank’s restaurant didn’t have living space upstairs. His second floor would eventually be more dining space, but it wasn’t open to the public yet. Generally, he only opened the space up for private gatherings. I was going to ask our hostess where Frank was, but my question was answered when we got to the top and I saw him serving drinks.

  I wasn’t surprised to see Irma, Ruby Mae, and Dorothy since I knew Nana Jo had arranged for them to meet us here. What was a surprise was seeing Dawson, Emma, Jillian, my mom, and Harold.

  “Looks like the whole gang’s here,” I said.

  Nana Jo looked around. “Just about.”

  Jenna hurried up the stairs. “Am I late?”

  “I thought you were in court?” I asked.

  “Even lawyers get a lunch break.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to be back in less than two hours, so we need to make this quick.”

  Everyone took their seats. I sat next to Jenna, and I was pleasantly surprised when Frank sat on the other side of me.

  “I can’t believe you’re going to join us.”

  “It’s not often that I can take time off from work, especially during the noontime rush, but when I saw the article in the paper, I knew you’d be on the case. And I wanted to show my support. Detective Pitt may not be the best example of our boys in blue, but he isn’t a murderer.”

  I leaned over and kissed him.

  “What was that for? Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

  “For being . . . you.”

  He grinned and was about to say something when Nana Jo spoke.

  “Listen up. We don’t have a lot of time, so let’s get this party started.” She pulled her iPad out of her purse. “Now, you all read the article in the newspaper. The police have arrested Detective Bradley Pitt, and he’s being held at the county police department.” She turned to Jenna. “I’m not sure how much we’re at liberty to talk about, so I’ll let Jenna summarize the case.”

  “Detective Pitt believes he’s being framed for the murder of John Cloverton. He claims that he arrested Cloverton, who posted bond at midnight. Detective Pitt says he went home not long after that and never saw John Cloverton again.”

  “What kind of evidence do the police have on him?” Frank asked.

  “What’s his motive?” Harold asked.

  “Those two questions are pretty much one and the same. They believe the motive was jealousy. Detective Pitt’s ex-wife is Mildred Cloverton.”

  Based on the group’s reaction to Jenna’s statement, it was clear that I wasn’t the only person who was shocked to learn that Stinky Pitt had been married.

  Nana Jo waved her hands to quiet the group. “I know we’re all surprised that some woman was willing to risk spontaneous combustion from all that polyester.”

  “I’d be more worried about going blind from staring at all those crazy colors,” Dorothy said.

  “They say there’s someone for everyone,” Ruby Mae said.

  “The fact that Pitt assaulted him just one day earlier isn’t going to go over well if we end up going to trial,” Jenna said.

  Nana Jo quickly brought everyone up to speed on what we’d witnessed at The Avenue on Sunday, although they’d already read about the incident in the newspaper. Nana Jo turned to Jenna. “Anything else?”

  “I’m waiting for the report from the coroner for the official cause of death, but there were gun casings found at the scene, and it looks like Cloverton was shot with a nine-millimeter bullet. I’ll give you three guesses as to the type of bullets Detective Pitt uses.”

  “Nine-millimeter?” Mom said.

  Jenna nodded.

  “Were they able to run the ballistics on Pitt’s gun to see if it matches the ones that killed Cloverton?” Frank said.

  Although he rarely talked about it, Frank Patterson had spent many years in the military and working for the government. He spoke multiple languages, had amazing connections, and when asked about his past generally responded with, “That’s classified.” So, I wasn’t surprised by his question.

  “They’re doing the ballistics today, but I’d bet my new Jimmy Choo boots they find a match,” Jenna said.

  “You don’t believe—”

  Jenna held up a hand to stop me. “Detective Pitt may not be a rocket scientist, but I find it hard to believe that even he’d be dumb enough to use his own gun and then leave the gun at his house to be found. He’s a cop. He has access to all kinds of weapons. ”

  “Not even Stinky Pitt could be dumb enough to leave the gun in his house when he could have chucked it into Lake Michigan,” Nana Jo said.

  “Of course, the district attorney will just say he didn’t have time to get rid of the gun, so I’ve got my work cut out for me.” Jenna sighed.

  I leaned close to my sister and whispered, “What’s wrong? You look worried.”

  She took a moment before responding. “Honestly, I am worried. There’s a lot of circumstantial evidence. If we can’t figure out who really killed John Cloverton, Detective Pitt could end up in prison . . . or worse.”

  I stared at my sister and saw the concern. “Then, I guess we’d better get busy.”

  Chapter 9

  “Sam,” Nana Jo yelled.

  “Sorry, I was thinking.”

  “Well, I hope you’re thinking about assignments, because we need to get busy trying to figure out who killed John Cloverton. Now, what do you want us to do?” Nana Jo asked.

  “I think there are two things we need to figure out. First, who wanted John Cloverton dead, and who wants Detective Pitt to pay for it.”

  “Cloverton wanted to be mayor and those articles in the newspaper accusing the mayor and the police chief of misappropriation of funds and abuse of power stirred up a lot of dirt,” Harold said.

  “So, maybe the mayor or the chief of police wanted to shut Cloverton up,” Nana Jo said.

  “My cousin Abigail is Chief Davis’s secretary,” Ruby Mae said, looking up from the knitting, which I suspected helped her think, just like writing helped me. “Maybe I can find out if there’s any truth in the allegations that Cloverton was throwing around.”

  “Great,” Nana Jo said.

  “The mayor and I golf at the same course,” Harold said. “Maybe Grace and I can take time away from packing to get in a round of golf.”

  “Mom plays golf?” Jenna asked.

  I shrugged.

  I took a few minutes and shared what I’d seen at the casino.

  “Chastity?” Jillian said. “You don’t mean Chastity Drummond?”

  “Tall, skinny, with legs that are taller than me?” Emma asked.

  I nodded. “Sounds like the same girl. Do you know her?”

  “She’s a student at MISU. I’ve seen her around campus. We could ask around about her if you want?” Jillian looked from Emma to Dawson. They all nodded.

  I always worried about the younger folks getting involved in our investigations. There was
a murderer on the loose, after all. They must have noticed my concern.

  “We promise not to do anything dangerous. We’ll just ask a few friends, that’s all.” Jillian used her finger to draw an X across her heart.

  Emma held up three fingers. “Girl Scout’s promise.”

  Dawson smiled. “I promise to keep an eye on both of them.”

  “Okay, but please be careful. If Chastity is a murderer, then she could be extremely dangerous.”

  “I met a guy who works in security at the casino,” Irma said. “I’ll bet with a bit of enticement he might be able to give me some information on Cloverton.” She patted her beehive hair. “I might have to go to some extreme lengths, but I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”

  Nana Jo rolled her eyes. “Freddie’s son, Mark, is with the state police. He might be able to help tell us if there was anyone at the police station who wanted to set up Stinky Pitt. Maybe he could go through some of his cases and tell us if there was someone that might want to see Pitt in prison for murder.”

  Freddie Williams was Nana Jo’s boyfriend and a retired cop. Between him and his son, they would be able to tell us about the general gossip going around the police department.

  Dorothy Clark raised her hand. “I have a friend who used to work with Cloverton when he was running his public relations business before he decided to go into politics. He might be able to provide some insight into Cloverton’s character.”

  “Perfect,” Nana Jo said. She turned to me. “What about you?”

  “I think I’d like to find out more about Mildred Cloverton. She obviously knew both men. I don’t know that she wanted to see either one of them dead, but she may know someone who would want to see her husband dead.”

  With our assignments in place, we ordered lunch and ate. I ordered meals for Christopher and Zaq, and Jenna offered to drop them off before she headed back to court, which left more time for us to talk over the case.

  I felt as though I was being watched. I turned around to see Frank staring at me. “What?”

  “Nothing. I’m just waiting for my assignment.”

  I smiled. “Well, I did have something I thought you might be able to look into.”