by Mary Ellis
‘Got it. I guess I’ll skip the coffee.’
‘You have to leave so soon?’ Michelle entered the kitchen with a basket brimming with eggs.
As Billy vanished back into the shadows, Jill plastered on a smile. ‘I’m afraid we must. We want to get back before it’s dark. We’re not familiar with these roads.’
Michelle handed her the eggs. ‘Tell Aunt Dot I’ll get the basket back on Tuesday. See you then.’
After giving Michelle a clumsy hug, Jill collected her purse and her partner, bid everyone goodbye and hightailed it down the Clark’s private road, at least as fast as the ruts would allow. She would fill Michael in on what she learned from Michelle, but she decided to omit Billy’s thinly veiled warning to mind her own business. After all, he could just be super protective of his sister.
Or he might want to take matters into his own hands with the Shelbys.
NINE
Sunday night
Jill needn’t have worried about conversation on the way back to Roseville. Michael had been so impressed with William Clark and, not having any bills other than real estate taxes and food they couldn’t hunt, raise or grow, he talked exclusively about that.
‘Just think, Jill. No water bill or sewer charge, no electric or heat bills, or credit cards. They don’t pay homeowner’s or health insurance, and have only minimum liability insurance on one car used to get to town. All other vehicles are listed as “off-road”. No cable bill or satellite dish. If they can’t pay cash for clothes or staples, they just plain don’t need it.’
‘You would die without the Weather Channel,’ Jill said. ‘And what if one of them got seriously ill?’
‘I asked Will that. He said the state’s Medicaid fund will pay to deliver the baby or if Justin got sick. And the adults? Will said they drank unfiltered cider vinegar every day and none of them ever get sick. One fell off a roof and needed stitches, so they made payments to the doctor until the bill was paid. Better than paying for health insurance each month whether you need it or not. I’m totally impressed with your family.’
Jill took her eyes off the road long enough to make sure Michael was still in the passenger seat. ‘They’re not technically my family. And although I respect their choices, that lifestyle wouldn’t work for you.’
‘I don’t know ’bout that … Cousin Michelle is awfully cute. Maybe she’d settle for me as a husband instead of Jamie.’
Jill swerved to miss a tree. ‘You’re kidding, right?’
‘Calm down. Yes, Curtis, I’m kidding about moving to the mountains. But I do like Michelle. That woman is no-nonsense.’
‘I like her too. That’s why I want Jamie Shelby to get his just comeuppance.’
‘Just comeuppance? Your kinfolk are starting to rub off.’
Jill rolled her eyes. ‘I’m serious. When we get back to town, we need to talk to Lieutenant Harris. Poor Roger might have died defending Michelle’s honor with Jamie. For all I know, Jamie went to Black Creek after dropping me off. Michelle was Roger’s goddaughter. Maybe Nick will be willing to meet us at the pizza shop. I’d rather talk someplace where Aunt Dot won’t overhear us.’
Michael released an exaggerated yawn. ‘Chat with the state trooper by yourself. Maybe it was the moonshine or maybe all that clean mountain air wore me out, but I’m going to bed. Besides, you’re the only one convinced romance is at the bottom of this murder.’ Michael leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He was sound asleep and snoring within minutes.
Jill had the rest of the drive to ponder Billy’s behavior. That man truly didn’t want her meddling in his family’s business. But he couldn’t be behind Roger’s murder. What would he have to gain by his uncle’s death?
When she reached the outskirts of Roseville she gave Nick a call. ‘Hello, Lieutenant Harris? Jill Curtis.’
‘Yes, Miss Curtis. I recognized your voice. What can I do for you?’
‘I was wondering if we could meet at the pizza shop tonight or someplace else if you prefer. I have information you might find useful.’
‘I just ordered a pizza to be delivered here. Why not join me in the backyard?’
‘Oh, I had hoped to talk where Mrs Clark won’t overhear us.’
‘No problem. I just had a cup of coffee with her. She said she’s retiring to her room to read. Tomorrow will be a long day for her.’
‘In that case I’ll join you. Mrs Clark’s room is in the front of the house.’
‘Cut out the Mrs Clark stuff. I know you two are related. You should realize that when suspects lie or omit details, it only makes them look guilty.’
Jill could imagine steam coming from Harris’s ears. ‘You can’t possibly still think I killed Roger. What would be my motive?’
‘Why wouldn’t you still be a suspect? Maybe Auntie Dot asked you to come on down to help get rid of an abusive husband. Plenty of people in town said Roger wasn’t very nice to his wife or his employees.’
‘First of all, she’s not my “aunt”. We’re cousins twice-removed. My grandmother is her first cousin. Aunt Dot is simply a respectful address. And secondly, we never set eyes on each other until I showed up with Michael. She hasn’t talked to Granny in fifty years. And thirdly, Dorothy Clark is the sweetest, kindest woman I’ve ever met. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
‘That’s pretty much what Sheriff Adkins said too. So that’s why I’m willing to share my deluxe pizza with you and see what you have to say. Should I expect Michael too?’
Jill closed her eyes and counted to three. ‘No, just me. Michael’s hitting the sack. See you in ten minutes.’
‘Do you like red or white?’ he asked.
‘Red or white what?’
‘Wine. Your videographer said you only drink wine that comes in cardboard boxes. So I bought a small box of each at the drug store.’
‘You had this all planned?’ This time she had to count to five. ‘I prefer white, but red goes better with pizza, so you choose. Goodbye.’
When Jill pulled into the driveway of Sweet Dreams B&B, Michael made a sandwich, grabbed half a dozen cookies, and went straight to his room. Jill let Jack out into the fenced backyard and spotted the trooper at a picnic table with a bright tablecloth, two wine glasses, a huge pizza box, and two glowing candles.
Sucking in a deep breath, Jill followed Jack to the table. ‘Candlelight, Lieutenant Harris? Yesterday you thought I was a murderer.’
‘Don’t get too excited. The candles were Mrs Clark’s idea because they repel mosquitos. I would’ve preferred paper cups, but our innkeeper insisted on the crystal. Shall we start with the red?’ Harris unscrewed the plastic top.
‘By all means. At least the Roseville drug store carried a decent variety of boxed wine.’ Jill placed a slice of pizza on her plate. ‘How did you know I love black olives?’
‘Michael. You shouldn’t leave the two of us alone together if you don’t want your secrets revealed.’
Jill tasted her glass of dry red. ‘This tastes perfectly fine to me. I don’t know what all the fuss is about.’ She took another sip. ‘So, how is the case coming along?’
‘Great, we’ve discovered some interesting facts about Black Creek’s master distiller. And results from the fingerprints on the bourbon rack should be back tomorrow. Which of course I won’t be at liberty to share with a travel writer from Chicago.’ Nick took a huge bite of pizza.
Jill frowned over her slice.
‘This is a police investigation. There are strict protocols I must follow. So if you were expecting some type of quid pro quo, I can’t reciprocate.’
‘I wasn’t expecting anything, but before you lock somebody up and throw away the key, you should listen to what I found out.’
Nick washed the pizza down with a swallow of wine. ‘You have my full attention.’
‘The local librarian told me that Jamie Shelby had been dating Michelle Clark the same time they were dating. So Amanda, the librarian, broke up with him.’
‘Although being a
two-timer is deplorable, it’s not a police matter.’ Nick refilled both of their glasses.
Jill glared at him over her sunglasses. ‘Just hear me out. When I questioned Jamie about his relationship with Michelle, he said it was no big deal and that they had been just friends for years.’
‘You actually asked Shelby about this?’ asked Nick, looking dumbfounded. ‘This story keeps getting better and better.’
‘Well, yes. We were on a date at the time.’ Jill chewed her next bite slowly. ‘In case you weren’t aware, Michelle Clark was Roger’s niece and goddaughter. I went to meet Michelle and the rest of William Clark’s family today. They live up in the hills.’
‘But you’re a distant relative of Dorothy’s, not Roger’s.’ He studied her over his wine glass.
‘Correct, but the Shelbys and the Clarks have been feuding for years. Roger’s murder might be connected to a recent flare-up of hostilities, if you would let me finish.’
Harris’s smile softened the features of his usually serious face.
‘I happened to notice that Michelle was pregnant, which matched up to when the librarian was also dating that snake-in-the-grass.’
‘And now you are dating the very same snake.’
‘I’m only pretending to like Shelby in order to get information.’ Jill shook her fist at the trooper. ‘And if you interrupt me one more time, buster, you’ll get a douse of Chicago justice.’
Nick appeared to be biting his cheek as he dished out more pizza.
‘I asked Michelle about the baby’s father and she confirmed it was Jamie Shelby. She said she loved him and that he loved her and had promised to take care of her … right up until she got pregnant. Then he tried to give her money to take care of the problem. Michelle threw the money in his face. At which point they broke up.’ Jill took another bite of pizza.
‘We already concluded that Shelby behaves deplorably. How could this possibly relate to Roger’s murder?’
‘Before I left their farm, Billy Clark told me to butt out of Michelle’s business, because the Clarks always take care of their own.’
‘So if Jamie-the-snake goes missing, Billy Clark will be our ready-made suspect. I suggest you stick to your bourbon story and leave the investigation to me and Sheriff Adkins.’
‘Consider this. After Jamie dropped me off at the B and B—’
‘Dropped you off?’ Nick interrupted.
‘Yes, after our tour Jamie invited me to continue our interview on the veranda over drinks and appetizers. Then he drove me home since Michael had already left with the car.’
‘Yet another date with the snake!’
‘Please, let me finish. Roger Clark could have asked Jamie to stop by the distillery for a man-to-man chat after he dropped me off. You know … do the right thing by my goddaughter. When Jamie refused, Roger might have thrown a punch and they got into a fight, which ended badly for Roger.’
Nick rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Altogether feasible. But since not one shred of evidence puts Jamie at Black Creek that night, the sheriff and I are forced to work with what we have.’ He wiped his mouth with his napkin. ‘Tell me, wasn’t that fabulous pizza? And this wine wasn’t bad at all. Shall we crack open the other before we call it a night?’
His smile looked so earnest Jill couldn’t refuse. ‘Yes, the pizza was delicious. Thank you. And I’ll have one glass of white as long as you at least consider my theory.’
‘It’s a deal. Until the moment we make an arrest, your theory will never be far from my mind. Now, let’s talk about you, Jill. What is there to do in Chicago for fun?’ Nick threw the remnants into the flowers and refilled their glasses. ‘And may I take your picture to remember this special night?’ He pulled out his phone.
Jill allowed him to photograph her smiling, frowning, and looking aloof. They then spent an enjoyable hour discussing sports, college and pro, their favorite types of restaurants, and just before they finished the second little box of wine, their worst dates ever. Since both of them were single and neither would be driving anywhere that night, what was the harm?
Except for the fact she was starting to really like Nick Harris and from every indication he really liked her too. That didn’t bode well for her long-range career plans. Plus, he hadn’t ruled her out as a murder suspect.
Monday morning
Nick woke up early Monday morning with a dull headache, a dry mouth and a big regret. He seldom drank wine and when he did, he never drank four glasses. Two aspirin with a large glass of water should take care of the after-effects of over-imbibing, but he never should have drank so much with Jill Curtis. Even if she was no longer a suspect, she still wasn’t laying all her cards on the table. And he knew better than to get close to somebody connected to the case. Too bad she was so darn cute. And funny. And easy to talk to.
Nick showered, dressed and left the B&B as fast as possible. He hadn’t talked to Sheriff Adkins all weekend and he wanted to compare notes before the sheriff got busy with department business. Luckily, when Nick arrived in the kitchen, the coffee was ready, but neither Mrs Clark nor any of the other guests had come downstairs. After filling his travel mug, Nick bolted out the door to his car. He had no idea why he was so reluctant to face Jill. Nothing had actually happened last night, but if shameless flirting and suggestive innuendoes were crimes, they could have been arrested on the spot.
When Nick arrived at the Spencer County Sheriff’s Department, Jeff Adkins was just settling behind his desk with an apple, hard-boiled egg, and carton of milk. ‘Good morning, Lieutenant Harris,’ he called.
‘Good morning, Sheriff. No donuts? If you continue to eat like that you’ll ruin a perfectly fine cliché about cops.’ Nick sat in the opposite chair.
Adkins laughed good-naturedly. ‘No chance of that happening with my deputies. How about an egg or piece of fruit? My wife always packs extra.’
‘I’ll take an apple if you don’t mind. Everything quiet in Roseville over the weekend? I went home to water my houseplants and do some laundry.’ Nick bit into the crisp apple.
‘Just your normal mailbox bashing on Saturday night, along with two complaints for loud music at backyard cookouts. Summer parties start out tame with volleyball and horseshoes and marshmallows roasted over a campfire. But once the kids go to bed they build the fires into raging infernos, turn up the music, and bring out a bottle of bourbon. One year some fool tried to jump the bonfire with his Harley and suffered third-degree burns.’
‘I should ask for a transfer to your district. I like the crime better in your neck of the woods.’ Nick finished his apple and tossed the core in the rubbish can.
‘Except when we got ourselves a first-degree murder.’
Nick met the sheriff’s gaze. ‘We should get the crime lab and medical examiner’s reports today. Hopefully, they’ll point us in the right direction.’
As Adkins finished his healthy breakfast the fax machine started to whir. ‘Speak of the devil. That’s probably what we’ve been waiting for.’ Adkins jumped from his chair and handed Nick the first several of multiple sheets.
Nick skimmed and read the key points aloud. ‘All of the blood evidence found at the crime scene was Roger’s, along with most of the fingerprints. No match in the database for the partial print found smeared in blood. Of the two other prints found on the racks – one belonged to the worker who recently filled the rack and the other belonged to Jamie Shelby. His prints apparently were on file from a DWI arrest back in 2015.’ Nick skimmed the rest of the report and handed it to Adkins, trying not to fixate on what he’d learned from Jill last night. ‘So why was Jamie inside Black Creek Distillery?’
‘That’s a very good question.’ Adkins downed the rest of his milk. ‘Now we have a good reason to bring the guy in for questioning. Would you like to do the honors or should I send two of my deputies?’
‘Send the deputies. I want to go over every detail of the forensics to be fully prepared for Shelby. Plus we still need the medical examiner to
make an official determination of homicide.’ When the sheriff walked out of the office, Nick started thinking about what Jill had said. Could Roger Clark have invited Jamie there to talk and things turned ugly? Everyone knows how competitive bourbon masters could be. Maybe Jamie getting his goddaughter pregnant had pushed Roger over the edge.
Suddenly the fax machine whirred to life again, spitting out the Kentucky Medical Examiner’s report with determination of death. As Nick and the sheriff had expected, Roger Clark had not died by natural causes or accidental occurrence. It was murder, either first or second degree. The bruising on Clark’s face and upper torso were consistent with blows made by a fist, while the blow to the forehead was consistent with hitting the edge of the rack. However, a simple fall wouldn’t have caused such a deep facial laceration. In all likelihood, Roger Clark was pushed into the rack by either someone very strong or a person in a rage. Clark had probably been rendered unconscious by such a blow. However, that deep laceration hadn’t killed him. Someone had cracked Clark’s skull while he lay helpless on the floor, most likely with a heavy tool found in the distillery or brought by the killer. Either way the ME declared the death a homicide.
Nick leaned back in his chair, pondering the conclusion. Hard to imagine someone generating enough hatred to kill from either business dealings or an unexpected pregnancy. Someone as rich as Jamie Shelby could afford to support his child without marrying the baby’s mother. Although it didn’t match his personal convictions, this happened all the time.
Nick went in search of a cup of coffee. Just as he got back to his desk, Sheriff Adkins walked in with the heir to the Founder’s Reserve fortune.
‘Mr Shelby, this is Nick Harris from the Kentucky State Police. Lieutenant Harris, this is Jamie Shelby of Founder’s Reserve. I explained to Mr Shelby that he’s here for questioning and not under arrest. However, I advised him that he may have counsel available if he wishes.’