by Liliana Hart
“So…” Agatha pressed.
“So all they could tell us is the saliva on the envelope belonged to a Caucasian female with brown eyes and brown hair.”
“Well, that doesn’t help much,” Agatha said, her disappointment obvious.
“Actually, it helps a lot,” Hank commented. “It means Jim didn’t send the letter.”
“Well, to play devil’s advocate,” Coil said. “He could’ve written the letter. But he definitely didn’t lick the envelope.”
“A conspiracy,” Agatha sighed as she rubbed her palms together.
“Slow down, Aggie,” Hank cautioned. “We’ve got to stick with the facts. Carol fits that description.”
“So do the majority of woman in Rusty Gun,” she said.
“The fact is, we’ve got less probable cause to question Jim now than we did before,” Coil said.
“How about a handwriting analysis on the envelope and the letter?” Hank asked.
“The same person wrote both, but without comparison samples, they can’t tell who wrote them.”
“Looks like we need to find handwriting samples from Jim and Carol,” Agatha said. “We can ask her family if they have letters or cards she might have sent. Even a sample out of an old yearbook or a canceled check would work.”
“Good idea,” Hank said. “Speaking of ideas, Agatha and I did a little surveillance last night while Jim was walking his dog.”
“Did you now?” asked Coil. “Sounds interesting.”
“Turns out he walked right to the house he and Carol used to live in,” Hank said. “Agatha had memorized the property records we’d gotten.”
The young waitress came to the table and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry for interrupting y’all, but would anyone care for breakfast?”
I’ll have the number two,” Hank said. “Scrambled hard as usual.”
Agatha and Coil ordered the same thing, and the waitress shuffled away.
“Okay,” Agatha said. “As I was saying, Jim and Carol built the house together at 1109 Brandywine Court. After she disappeared, he and Robin Byrd lived there before, and for a short while, after they were married. At least until she moved out again and went back to Tom Earls.”
“Did Jim sell the house when Robin left?” Hank asked.
“Not exactly,” Agatha said. “Jim and an elderly lady from Rusty Gun decided to swap houses. Seems he wanted a place on Central Drive, outside of town and closer to his store, while Ms. King wanted to be closer to her kids and grandkids. Both homes were appraised around equal value, so they had property deeds worked up to show new ownership. That’s how I found it in the clerk’s report.”
“Why don’t we talk to Ms. King about looking around the property?” Hank suggested.
“No can do,” Agatha sighed.
“She die?” Coil asked.
“Nope,” Agatha said. “Seems she inherited a giant ranch close to Kilgore. She packed up her puppies, kissed her grandkids so long, and hauled tail out of Rusty Gun.”
“Go granny,” Hank said, smiling.
“Funny thing though,” Agatha said. “I saw a for sale by owner sign in the front yard last night. I texted the number, and Ms. King responded right away.”
“What’d she say?” Hank asked.
“She said there’s a young couple wanting to buy the house, but the mortgage company is running them around with requests for repairs.”
“What’s the hold up?” Coil asked.
“She said the couple wanted to know the best way to get Jim Brown involved. Ms. King wasn’t the original owner and doesn’t know about the history of the house,” Agatha said. “But if you ask me, I bet old Jim doesn’t want to get involved because he knows they’ll find Carol.”
“Look who’s jumping the gun now,” Coil said. “There’s been no whispers of Jim burying Carol on the property. You’d think that’d be something pretty noticeable in a neighborhood. Besides, if he did, why in the world would he have given the place to someone else?”
“I guess you’ve got a point,” Agatha admitted.
“Agatha,” Hank said. “Why don’t you see if you can find out who that couple is, and maybe we can help them get what they need. Or better yet, maybe we can get Jim to help them. At the very least, it’ll be a good opportunity to talk to him.”
Hank wasn’t feeling any better about the possibility of it actually being a cold case. The DNA on the envelope eliminated Jim, the selling of his home where he might’ve hidden her body made no sense, and the only thing scientific was that whoever did mail the letter matched Carol Brown’s description to a T.
“Any luck checking to see if Carol Brown remarried?” Hank asked. “If she ran off with this George guy, maybe there’s a marriage certificate somewhere.”
“It’s Saturday, so the best I can do is check the records online, but don’t expect much information beyond a list of possible matches,” Agatha said. “Though we might fare better through my system than the clerk of court. I don’t think they’re going to be of much help to us anytime soon.”
“Speaking of,” Hank said. “What’s up with those ladies over at the clerk of court office? They are definitely not fans of yours.”
Coil slapped a twenty on the table. “You know petty politics. Everybody is picking sides like it’s a prize fight. They’re looking for weaknesses, and watching for mistakes. Seems like they’ve picked their horse for the race, so now they gotta whip up as much hate for me as they can.”
“Do you know the guy?” Hank asked.
“Oddie McElroy,” Agatha said.
Both men looked at her with surprise. “I had a run in with Dot Williams over at the Glamour Shots and Nail Salon a few months ago. Seems she’s going to be a thorn in your side when the election comes around.”
“Is that why you stormed out of there with a one-finger salute?” Coil asked, brows raised.
“Word gets around fast,” Agatha said, crossing her arms over her chest. “At least you know where I stand.”
“That I do, sister,” Coil said. “I’ll let you know what I get out of Jim, and you see if you can worm your way into the life of the couple buying the house.”
“You’re good at worming your way into people’s lives,” Hank said. “This is right up your alley.”
“Have I told you how hilarious you are lately?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as she slid out of the booth.
“Glad I haven’t lost my touch,” Hank said.
Chapter Eleven
It wasn’t hard to track down the young couple trying to buy the home at 1109 Brandywine Court. It wasn’t yet noon, and Agatha hustled out to Jim Brown’s former home to meet them. Their names were Jason and Nicole Stewart, and Jason had just been hired on as the high school’s basketball coach. Nicole was pregnant with their first child.
“Hi,” Agatha said, walking up to greet them with a smile and an outstretched hand. “I’m Agatha Harley. Thanks for meeting me so soon.”
“We appreciate your help,” Jason said. “Ms. King called and said you might be able to help get us the information for the bank about the house. They’re giving us the run around.”
“What’s the hold up?”
“Our mortgage is conditioned, in part, upon replacement of the sewer system. We’ve already put money down, and will lose it all if we pull out of the deal, but at the last second, the bank’s appraiser stopped by and shut everything down until the sewer is replaced.”
“Who has to pay for that?” Agatha asked.
“We do,” Jason said, wiping sweat from across his brow. “We don’t have an extra ten thousand dollars stashed away. I called Ms. King and she said she’d come down on the final closing cost since we got stuck with all these extra expenses.”
“She was supposed to disclose all defects in the seller’s agreement,” Agatha said. “You should be able to pull out and get your money back based on that.”
“In normal circumstances, but she said she didn’t know about the sewer since
she wasn’t the original owner and she barely spent any time here,” Nicole explained.
“What do you need?” Agatha asked.
“We have a contractor to do the job,” Jason said. “He reached out to the original owner. Apparently, they’re friends and the contractor gets a lot of his supplies from him.”
“That would be Jim Brown,” Agatha said.
“Yes, ma’am. That’s his name,” Nicole said, rubbing a hand across her belly.
“The contractor asked Jim for information on the drain fields, and Jim actually met us out here to show the sewer contractor where the best place would be to install the new system.”
“So what happened?” Agatha questioned.
“Jim and the contractor got into an argument over where the system should go. We thought the best spot was next to the house, but Jim said we’d have trouble because of the tree stumps and so many roots underground.”
Jason walked over to the area in dispute. He was about six feet-seven inches, so his steps were long and awkward. He tapped his shoe on a cement slab.
“What’s that slab for? Agatha asked.
“Jim said it used to be a greenhouse. He built it for his wife.”
Agatha braced herself against the corner of the house. She felt weak with the reality that Carol Brown’s body could literally be mere feet below them.
“Jim said that?” Agatha asked.
“Jim said it was a horrible place for the greenhouse because of the shade and the roots, but that’s where she wanted it, so that’s where it went. He suggested leaving the slab alone, and placing the sewer across the yard, near the fence.”
“Is that the best place?” she asked.
“What do I know?” Jason said. “I’m just a basketball coach. The contractor said if we wanted it anywhere other than what he suggested, he wouldn’t do the job because the liability was too high, and he wasn’t losing business because of Jim.”
“So long story short,” Nicole said, “We don’t know what to do, and don’t know nobody else to do the job.”
“It’s your house,” Agatha said. “Why not put the sewer where you want it?”
“To be honest with you ma’am,” Jason said. “Breaking up and removing that cement slab is going to add another two thousand dollars to the cost. That’s why we figured we’d avoid the tree stumps and the expense and stick it by the fence like Jim suggested.”
Agatha was as aggravated at the sewer contractor as she was with Jim. She tapped her chin with the tip of an unpainted fingernail.
“So either do what the contractor says, and pay extra money to bust up this slab, and you’ll be in your home by next week, or go with Jim’s advice and install it at the fence, but the contractor won’t do the job, and you won’t move in at all?”
“That’s about it,” Nicole agreed.
“We’re screwed either way,” Jason said, wrapping his arm around his wife.
“If Ms. King is going to come down on the price, why not have the contractor go ahead and bust the slab?” Agatha suggested. “Is he local? Maybe I can talk to him about cutting you a better deal.”
The Stewarts both lit up with bright smiles. Agatha saw so much hope in them, that if she had the cash in hand, she would’ve handed it over to them right then and there.
Jason handed her a business card, and Agatha frowned when reading the name of the contractor. “Tell you what,” she said, trying to sound upbeat. “I’ll have my friend, Sheriff Coil, go talk to this guy. I think he’d have a better result.”
“Is the guy a criminal?” Nicole asked, worry creasing her brow.
“No, but the sheriff has a better rapport with certain individuals, if you know what I mean.”
“We’d appreciate anything you could do to help,” Nicole said. “Jason here has been driving back and forth to work from Austin. It’s the beginning of the school’s basketball camps and he’s gotta get those boys in shape for the season opener in December.”
“No kidding,” Agatha said, smiling at him. “I’m sure you’ll do a great job. What about the interior of the house?”
Nicole looked puzzled at the topic change. “There’s nothing in there. And all the wiring and everything is up to code.”
“Honestly,” Agatha said. “I wanted to buy this house a few years ago, and always wondered what it looked like on the inside.”
“Oh, you’re welcome to see the house,” Nicole said. “Jason, go and unlock the door, honey.”
“Thanks,” Agatha said. “I’ll just run through real quick. I love this neighborhood, and always figured I’d missed out on a great buy.”
“We love it too,” Jason said, beaming as he jiggled the key into the lock.
Agatha went straight toward the living room, and she could see where the carpet had been replaced in one section. It was the same carpet that covered the rest of the floor, but that one section was obviously newer.
Agatha purposefully dropped her car key on the floor. “Clumsy me,” she said as she bent down to get a closer look. It was obvious the piece had been cut to replace another. If that had been blood that had been on the carpet, it would’ve soaked into the pad and onto the subflooring. You can replace the carpet and the pad, but you can’t get blood out of concrete.
She had to get in touch with Coil and tell him everything she learned. Agatha said her goodbyes to Jason and Nicole and promised she’d have Coil talk to the contractor about making them a better deal. It was the least she could do.
Chapter Twelve
Agatha hurried home and she straightened up the war room in preparation of Hank and Coil stopping by after their meeting with Jim. She was dying to share what she’d learned from her meeting with the Stewarts.
There was a knock on the door and she went to answer, but there was no one there. Then she heard the knock again and realized it had come from her back door. She saw Edna standing on her back porch, and she hurried to open the door, worried something might be wrong.
“Ms. Edna,” Agatha said. “Is everything all right?”
“Hello, honey,” she said. “Everything’s fine. Just fine. I’m just checking in to see if you’ve made any progress on that scoundrel Jim Brown,” Edna said. “I’ve read all your books, you know. And I feel like this case is perfect for you. I want to help any way I can.”
“We’ve been working very hard to find out what happened to Carol.”
“She was murdered I told you,” Edna said. “What good is that sheriff if he can’t go arrest a murderer?”
“Well, Ms. Edna, he needs facts to prove Carol was killed. He can’t just go and arrest a man based on a rumor.”
Good grief, I sound like Hank.
“Oh, I know it’s an old rumor,” Edna said. “But you can take my word to the bank. Carol Brown was killed. I know where her body is hidden.”
Shivers crawled across Agatha’s skin. How was it that Edna was so certain about Carol? Despite her memory lapses, Edna was the most reliable witness they had since Carol disappeared. But there was something she hadn’t considered. Maybe Edna knew so much because she was involved in some way. Who was she to Jim, Carol, or Robin? It was a question worth asking.
Agatha kept a watch out for Hank and Coil through the open front door, but they were running late, so she made a decision to invite Edna inside and see what she could find out on her own.
“Why don’t you come into the kitchen and I’ll get you a cup of coffee,” Agatha said.
“Got any beer?” Edna asked. “I’m feeling peppy.”
Agatha laughed. “I’ll see what I can find,” she said. “I keep some in the fridge for Hank.”
“I’m so anxious for Jim to go to prison,” Edna said. “I can’t wait to tell him to his face that I’m the one responsible for him not getting away with it.”
Agatha got the beer for Edna and used the bottle opener before passing it to Edna. “How well did you know Carol?”
“Never met her,” Edna said, taking a swig of beer.
; “Then how is it that you’ve become so involved in this case?”
“Because he hurt you, honey.”
“He hurt me?” Agatha asked, confused.
Agatha was really feeling weird about this visit. Edna seemed like she was all there today, but having experienced the way she slid in and out of her memories, Agatha was starting to second guess Edna’s current state of mind.
“I know he told you he loved you,” Edna said seriously. Her eyes bored into Agatha’s and there was such sadness in them Agatha had to look away. “But Jim was never going to be true to you, baby. I’m so sorry, my love. Your whole life, you just wanted to be loved. That’s my fault too.”
Agatha moved across the kitchen and wrapped an arm around Edna’s round shoulders. “How did you hurt me? On my gosh, Mr. Tom was the one who rescued me when I fell out of the tree trying to rescue the birds from the crow.”
Edna smiled. “You remember that, honey?”
“Yes,” Agatha said. “I have the picture right here on my refrigerator as a reminder .”
Agatha showed Edna the picture and Agatha said, “I’m sorry you got hurt. I wanted to protect you, but the law said I couldn’t have anything to do with you. But I wanted to. I thought about you every day.”
“Ms. Edna,” Agatha said softly. “Look at me. I’m just fine. I’ve never been hurt by you. You and Mr. Tom have always been very kind to me.”
“You have every right to be angry with me. It broke my heart to give you to the birds. But back in them days, I didn’t have the option of keeping you,” Edna said, tears trickling down her cheeks. “But the birds promised to care for you, so I signed the papers.”
Agatha carefully moved the beer bottle out of Edna’s reach, and realized how stupid it was to have given it to her. She had no clue what medication Edna was on, or how alcohol would interact with it. She’d never heard Edna talk such nonsense.