by V. M. Burns
“If Theodore Livingston accused Carol Lynn Hargrove of embezzling funds from the association, I’d say that gives her a pretty strong motive for murder.” Stephanie turned to Red. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
He nodded. “That explains her strange behavior when we ran into her the other day.”
“I’d forgotten about that.” I quickly told Stephanie and Dixie about the encounter I had prior to finding Theodore Livingston’s body.
“Sounds like Carol Lynn Hargrove is one angry woman,” Dixie said.
“Sounds like she’s not the only one with a motive.” Red pulled out a notepad and scribbled a few notes.
“You mean Jackson Phillips?” I asked.
He nodded. “That story about how Theodore Livingston caused him to lose his job might have made him angry enough to commit murder.”
“The question is did they have the opportunity?” I asked.
Red stood up again. “That’s what I intend to find out.”
Chapter 19
The rest of the day was uneventful. Dixie, Stephanie, and I picked apart our suspects like vultures on a carcass left in the desert until there wasn’t anything left to pick. We then went inside and picked apart the delicious chicken Red had prepared for dinner. It was well seasoned with a bit of a kick. The mashed potatoes were creamy, with just the right amount of lumps to indicate they were real potatoes and not instant, and the collard greens were tasty.
“He’s a really good cook.” Dixie sucked a chicken bone. “I like him.”
I let the opportunity to agree with her pass and pretended to be engrossed in the sweet tea I was drinking.
“I asked Joe about him. If you’re interested.” Stephanie raised a brow and struggled to hide a smile.
I shrugged.
“Well, I want to know.” Dixie wiped her hands. “Spill it.”
Stephanie hesitated, but then sat up and took a sip of tea. “He and Red met in the military.”
“I didn’t know Joe had been in the military,” I said.
She nodded. “He enlisted after high school because he didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life.” She took another sip of her tea. “Anyway, Red was his commanding officer. He was engaged, so this was going to be his last tour of duty. They were stationed in the Middle East.” She talked slower. “Joe doesn’t like talking about it, so I’m hazy on some of the details. But they were supposed to go into a village and rescue civilians, and it was a trap. They came under heavy fire.” She grew very quiet. “Joe said the only reason they got out alive was because of Red. He fought like a crazy man for two days. Eventually, a helicopter found their location and rescued them...most of them.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She swallowed. “Red didn’t make it. He stayed behind and fought to give the others a chance to get away.”
“Oh my goodness.” Dixie stared, mouth open. “How did he get out?”
Stephanie shook her head. “He won’t talk about it. Joe said they looked for him for two weeks. Eventually, someone fitting his description was found almost dead in an abandoned cave. He was airlifted to Germany.” She paused. “Joe said he’d been tortured.”
“Is that how he got the scar?” I asked.
She nodded. “Joe says he’s got a lot of them.”
“Wow. So Red is a hero.” Dixie wiped a tear.
Stephanie sighed. “He has a lot of medals, but he doesn’t like to talk about it, and Joe said we aren’t to mention it.”
We nodded.
Something she’d said was bothering me. “What happened to his fiancée? You said he was engaged.”
“That’s the sad part. Apparently, when she saw him, she broke off the engagement.”
“What a...well, if I wasn’t a lady, I’d say exactly what she was,” Dixie said.
Stephanie took a deep breath. “Joe said it took a long time for him to recover. When he did, he became a daredevil. He took on more and more dangerous jobs. He went into covert operations. A few years ago, his mom got sick, and he moved back to Tennessee and joined the TBI.”
We sat in silence for several moments.
When we heard the front door, we readjusted our faces to hide the guilt and pity that signaled we’d been talking about anything other than happy topics.
I knew our efforts weren’t successful when the first words out of his mouth were, “What are you ladies talking about that you don’t want me to know?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” we all chimed in.
He stared suspiciously from Stephanie to Dixie to me. “Right? You have guilt written all over your faces. What’s up?”
“Nothing. We weren’t talking about anything, were we?” Dixie said too eagerly.
“Hmmm...wanna try again?” Red stared.
Stephanie and Dixie turned to me.
I thought quickly. Lying wasn’t my strong suit, but the best defense was a good offense. “We were talking about something you aren’t going to like.” I licked my lips, which were suddenly very dry.
“I figured that much.” He folded his arms. “Spill it.”
I took a sip of tea. “We were talking about sneaking next door and searching Theodore Livingston’s house.”
Stephanie and Dixie’s faces both registered shock and then relief.
“What?” Red exploded.
“It’s not like it’s a crime scene or anything. Maybe we could find a clue that might help us figure out who else wanted him dead.”
“No. No. Absolutely not! You can’t go breaking into the house of a murder victim and looking around for clues. Are you crazy?”
“Why not?” I decided to string things out longer. Since I had no intention of searching Theodore Livingston’s house, I was perfectly okay conceding this argument but didn’t want to give things away by giving up too quickly.
“Look, I know you like to read mysteries, but this isn’t a book, and you’re not Nancy Drew. You need to leave this to the trained professionals. This is real life, and whoever killed Theodore Livingston and Robert Hansen won’t hesitate to kill you.” He allowed his gaze to linger on each of us. “Besides, breaking into someone’s home is still against the law.” He looked at Stephanie. “You’re a lawyer. I’m surprised at you.”
Stephanie blushed and looked down.
“Even if they’re dead?” Dixie asked.
“Yes! Even if they’re dead.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You need to promise me you won’t try to break into Theodore Livingston’s house under any circumstances.” He looked stern. “I mean it.”
I sighed. “Alright. I promise.”
“Cross my heart.” Stephanie followed up by marking an X across her chest.
Dixie held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
He looked at each of us again and then shook his head. “I don’t know if I should believe you or not.”
“We gave our word.” I sighed. “I guess, we’ll have to come up with another idea.”
He looked as though he was ready to blow his lid again, but I halted the explosion by holding up my hands in surrender.
“Just kidding. Now, why don’t you sit down and let me fix you a plate and you can tell us what you found out.”
He looked at me with skepticism but didn’t push his luck. Instead, he sighed and sat down.
I prepared a plate while Stephanie poured him a large glass of sweet tea. He still looked suspicious when I placed the plate in front of him, but he didn’t say anything and eventually picked up his fork and started to eat.
I waited until he’d taken several bites before resuming the conversation. “Did you find out anything about Barry?”
He nodded. “Surprisingly, I think I did.” He took a sip of tea. “What do you know about your landlord?”
I was slightly taken aback by the
question but took a moment and explored the recesses of my brain. Even though I hadn’t been in this rental for much more than one week, a lot had happened since I’d first talked to my landlord’s mother in that café, and as Dixie liked to say, I’d slept since then. “When we met Jo Ellen Hansen, she said her son had left the country unexpectedly.” I turned to Dixie for confirmation.
She nodded.
“She said she came to check on things and found the front door open.” I thought back. “He left quickly. He didn’t move his furniture or turn the utilities off; I just got them transferred into my name.”
I repeated what his mother had said to us about her son when we met her at the café, which wasn’t much.
Stephanie shared the information from the text messages she’d exchanged with him prior to his death, although Red was already well aware of them.
“What’s this about?”
He held up a hand. “One more, what about Theodore Livingston?”
Again, I recounted every encounter I’d had with my neighbor—from our disagreement over dog poo to my humiliation at the association meeting and, lastly, our brief conversation when I took him shortbread cookies and apologized. When I finished, I gave him a cold stare. “Now it’s your turn.”
He sighed. “I learned Theodore Livingston had a younger brother, named Martin.”
We stared at him, waiting for him to connect the dots.
“Apparently, the two didn’t get along.”
Dixie snorted. “Theodore Livingston didn’t get along with anyone.”
“This time he may have been justified.” He shifted in his seat. “Turns out Martin had been in and out of prison his entire life.”
“What did he do?” I asked.
“What didn’t he do?” Red pulled out a notepad and flipped through some pages. “Assault, grand theft, extortion.”
“Sounds like a real loser,” Dixie said.
“Okay, so Theodore Livingston had a brother.” I frowned. “What’s the big deal?”
Red leaned forward. “The brother got out of prison a few days ago and came knocking on his brother’s door. Theodore agrees to let him stay, but then one night he just disappears.”
“Maybe he found someone else to mooch from,” Dixie said.
“He left his things. After a few days, Theodore filed a missing persons report.” He shook his head. “The police didn’t pay too much attention. He was a crackpot who had called the police too many times.”
I stared at Red. “You think Martin killed Robert Hansen?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what to think, but it’s suspicious that Robert Hansen is murdered around the same time that Martin Livingston disappears.”
“Is that it?” I asked.
“I also learned that Robert Hansen had a dog.” Red put his notebook back in his pocket.
I smiled. “I could have told you that. His mother mentioned it when we moved in.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” he said.
I shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important.”
He smiled. “Did she tell you what breed of dog?”
I looked at Dixie, but she merely shook her head.
Stephanie had been staring down at Rusty. “But I don’t understand? Who is Barry? Why did he leave his dog? Why did he run?”
Red shrugged. “I’ll ask him the next time I run into him.”
Something from earlier was nagging in the back of my mind. “Didn’t you think the Cunninghams were odd? I mean, did you see the way they took off after you?”
Dixie nodded. “I wondered who they were chasing.”
“Maybe you should look into them.” I turned to Red. “They seem shady to me.”
Red ate his food. “What makes you say that?”
“The way they just flew after you. Most people would have stayed as far away from that scene as possible,” Stephanie said.
“Plus, they’ve got those brighter than sunlight veneers. I never did trust them,” Dixie said.
Red chuckled. “I can’t arrest people for having veneers.”
“Maybe not, but you could look into their backgrounds.” I felt a bit hurt that he didn’t seem to be taking my suggestion seriously. Then it hit me. “Wait, you know them.” I stared hard.
Red ate silently.
“They’re working for you. They’re undercover agents with the TBI.”
He didn’t say anything, but the vein throbbing at the side of his head told me I was right.
Stephanie looked from me to Red. “She’s right, isn’t she?”
He sighed. “Okay, yes.”
“I knew it.”
“Hot damn!” Dixie smacked the table. “How’s that for Nancy Drew?”
He grinned and held up his hands. “They are working undercover, and I could lose my job for telling you that.”
“You didn’t tell us anything. She guessed.” Dixie pointed to me.
“How’d you guess?” He looked at me.
I struggled to put my finger on it but couldn’t think of one definite moment when I knew. “I don’t know. I remembered you said Robert Hansen was under investigation, and then when they took off after you, it wasn’t like nosy neighbors.” I thought back. “They ran with authority, like you did.” I shrugged. “I guess it’s all my Nancy Drew books.”
He shook his head. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”
“Nope!” I grinned. “Just remember, Nancy Drew may not have been a trained professional, but she’s got a perfect record, and just like the Canadian Mounties, she always gets her man!”
The rest of the evening was uneventful, but I noticed Red seemed more on edge.
The next morning, I phoned Linda Kay and explained that I wanted to go to my landlord’s funeral. She was, of course, very agreeable. Even though I promised to come in for the afternoon, she suggested I take the entire day.
When I was dressed, I let Aggie out and then headed into the living room area. I wasn’t surprised to see Red in the kitchen but was surprised to see the blanket on the sofa. Obviously, if he’d slept at all, it had been on the sofa, rather than in the bed upstairs. From the color of his eyes, which looked red and tired, I didn’t think he’d slept.
“Good morning.” Despite having tossed for quite some time with thoughts that made me blush in the light of day, I was in a good mood.
He handed me a cup of coffee and the bottle of creamer I kept in the fridge, along with two packets of artificial sweetener.
I was momentarily taken aback by his attention to detail. He had obviously watched me prepare my coffee and knew what I liked. “Thank you.”
He nodded and then slid an omelet onto a plate. “You look nice.”
“Thank you.” I perched on a stool at the breakfast bar and shoved a forkful of fluffy golden deliciousness into my mouth.
“Okay?” He stared at my face for the answer.
I closed my eyes and savored the yummy goodness. When I opened my eyes, he smiled and nodded.
“That’s the reaction I like.”
Stephanie came out wearing a simple black wrap dress, which floated onto her hips and hugged her curves. “That smells delicious. Is there one for me?”
Red nodded. “Coming right up.” He handed her a cup of steaming-hot coffee and returned to his skillet. Within seconds, he slid another omelet onto a plate, and we both sat, eating and drinking coffee.
I looked up. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
He sipped his coffee. “I’ve already eaten.” He looked at his watch. “I need to go downtown and talk to Officer Lewis.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t suppose I can talk you out of going to the funeral.”
We shook our heads.
“I didn’t think so. Then can I remind you to please be careful?” He looked at
his watch. “I’m going to ask Officer Lewis to send someone to cover the funeral. I don’t anticipate trouble, but I’d feel better if there was someone present. Sometimes a uniformed officer can deter criminals, and deterrence is exactly what I’m hoping for.”
He gave a few other cautions and then made sure we had his number programmed into our phones. Eventually, he left.
Stephanie smiled. “He’s a nice man.” She looked at me out of the corner of her eyes. “And he’s a great cook.”
“No argument from me.”
“So what’re you going to do about it?”
“Nothing.”
“Mom, come on. I know Dad was—”
“This has nothing to do with your dad.”
By the skeptical look in her eyes, I knew she didn’t believe me.
“Okay, maybe deep down it does. However, I have several good reasons for not getting involved with anyone right now.”
“Name two.”
“I don’t believe in counting my chickens before they’re hatched.”
She got down from the bar and collected our empty plates and cups. “What does that mean?”
“It means, I’m not thinking about a relationship with a man who hasn’t asked me for a date, let alone anything remotely resembling a relationship. I barely know him.”
Stephanie loaded our empty plates into the dishwasher. “Okay, it’s a reason. Not a good reason, but it’s a reason. What’s the other reason?”
“I think we need to focus on solving these murders. If I’m in jail for murder, it won’t matter how nice I think he is.”
“Good point.”
Chapter 20
Dixie picked us up and headed down Interstate 75 south toward Georgia. Robert Hansen’s mom lived in Stone Mountain, which was about two hours away by normal driver standards. We made the trip in a little over an hour, with Dixie’s lead foot weaving in and out of traffic and whizzing past semis and practically anyone content to drive the speed limit.
To get to the church, which was just north of Atlanta, she pulled off the interstate and headed down back roads until she pulled up in the parking lot of a small, red-brick building with a large steeple and stained-glass windows.