“I do lots of things you taught me not to do, and I’m sure Bruce is on our side. He is just trying to put the pieces together and figure out who really pushed Edgy.” Her eyes almost crossed as she stared at me waiting for a response.
“He might think of you as a friend, but not me.” Before she could deny my point, I added, “I do have to admit, he’s seems more willing to listen to what I have to say.” When she didn’t comment, I added, “We’re not getting anywhere with the list.”
Marley slumped even more, apparently relieved I had finally acknowledged that Bruce might not prejudge like Theo Wood always did. “It’s so unbelievably stupid for anyone to think you’d hurt Edgy.”
“You’re right about that.” I turned to the computer screen. “Randal’s name is at the top of the first page.”
“Is there anything on this list you can prove beyond a reasonable doubt?”
I scanned the screen again, “Not one single solitary thing.”
“Delete it.”
I highlighted Sold drugs to Edgy. Got the drugs from Skip Smith. Shows up in the backyard unannounced. Acts guilty and is too friendly. Then I hit the delete button. Randal’s suspected crimes were wiped clean.
“Any keepers left?” Marley asked.
“Nope.” I turned away from the computer. “Have I been imagining things?”
“I don’t think so. It’s just hard to prove criminal behavior. Better add them back. Maybe something will show up.”
Over my reading glasses, I gave her the look Mel had hated, moved the cursor to undo, and clicked the mouse. I rested my hands by the keyboard.
She grinned. “Who’s next?”
“Sid Nelson. I can prove he threw a pool ball and it hit Edgy, but I can’t prove he did it on purpose.”
“I can’t see any way to check him out. We watched him get on a plane to Dallas. How would we find him in that sprawling city? He’s a dead end. Delete him.”
I hesitated to push the delete key.
“It’s okay,” Marley said. “The police have the info from that night, and we gave them the flight number. Surely they’ll investigate him.” She curled a leg under herself and grabbed the rest of her pizza. “But, they need a big push. I’ll talk to Bruce and put a bug in his ear. Who else?”
I left Sid on the list. “Let’s go back to Randal for a minute. The night we hit the moose, he said he wanted to drive up to his sister’s place and give her a gift. But there hadn’t been a package in the van. I can vouch for that because I sat in the back staring at nothing for hours.”
“How would that prove he killed Edgy?”
I eyed Marley. “The drug connection. By the way, you’re worse than Theo Wood and Arlen Renny combined.” Her quick laughter was such a relief that I grinned back at her. “Let’s talk about Lester. I can prove his spying and arguments, but the cops already know about him.” I leaned back in the office chair. “This list was defeated before we started. How do I prove my innocence?”
Marley pressed her lips together in a slight grimace.
“What?” I asked. “Please just say what you’re thinking.”
“There’s one more name to add to your list.”
I frowned. “Who?”
“Dean.”
It took a fraction of a moment for the name to sink in. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“I love Ruth as Edgy’s daughter, but I’m not sure about her uncle. He’s too cool and thinks he’s God’s gift to womankind. And he goes overboard protecting Ruth. That’s a good motive. Plus, he was there, and you only have his word that Randal and this Skip guy were in the parking lot of Millie’s. You didn’t actually see them. Dean could’ve done it. He had means, motive, and opportunity.” She checked the words off on her fingers.
I leaned back in my chair, trying to see her side of what could turn into an argument. It didn’t make sense that Marley would think of him in such an unkind way. “What you described doesn’t make him guilty.”
“Why are you defending him?”
“I don’t think I am. Just surprised you think he could’ve pushed Edgy.”
“Put down his name.”
A sudden clap of thunder boomed. I jumped. Marley fumbled her pizza slice. She managed to balance it before it fell.
“That was loud!” She jumped up and ran to the window. “It’s really blowing.”
I joined her at the window. “We could get hail. It’s been hot enough.”
“Unplug the computer. Let’s go watch from the window seat like we used to when I was little.”
I grabbed a fleece throw from the couch, and we cuddled up in front of the big bay windows for a view on all three sides. Wind thrashed the limbs of the maples to the north and slapped around the sturdy branches of the blue spruce to the east.
My thoughts dwelled on Marley’s suggestion about adding Dean to the list of suspects. I couldn’t let it go, knowing deep down that my reaction to him was the same as hers—skeptical—but I still couldn’t figure out why.
Pieces of green leaves ripped from the maples, flew through the air, and gathered against the neighbors’ fence. Rain pelted down, then turned to hailstones bouncing off the sidewalk and street. Even in the midst of this noisy, rollicking storm, Dean’s actions since we’d met tossed around in my thoughts.
“Remember when Dean and I went to talk to Detective Langnecker?”
Marley blinked. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“After we talked to him, I was dismissed, but Dean stayed to look at mug shots. I don’t think a guilty person would do that,” I said, loud enough to carry over another clap of thunder. “Why would he?”
“I have no idea why.” Marley reached over and clasped my hand.
Lightning flashed. A bolt of pure electricity snaked around the blue spruce. Ker-bang! The tree exploded. We jumped up and quickly stepped back from the window panes as branches flew through the air, hitting the house. Hail dumped harder, its noise deafening.
Another flash of lightning. I squinted, trying to peer through the deluge of hail. “Look, Marley. Something’s on the ground by the tree.”
“Can’t be.” She leaned closer to the pane. “I can’t see through the hail.”
“Something’s on the ground by that limb.” I strained to see. “I think it’s a person.”
Marley dashed for the door and sailed out into the storm. I hotfooted it after her into a swirling mess of wind-shredded maple leaves. Hailstones stung my face. I ducked my head and sprinted toward the tree branch.
Marley dropped to the ground beside a man lying face down in the grass and covered with hailstones.
She placed her fingers on his neck. “No pulse! Call nine-one-one!” She shoved him onto his back, power punched his chest, and straddled him. She pushed down hard with her palms, let up, and pushed again. “Call now. Now!”
I dashed back to the house, slid on the wet porch, grabbed the door handle for balance, and made it inside without falling. I rushed to the landline phone and snatched it up. No dial tone. I quickly looked for my cell. Desk. I ran for the office. The phone was partially under a piece of typing paper by the keyboard. I wiped rain from my hands on my wet pant legs, tapped 9-1-1, and waited two rings.
“This is the operator. What’s your emergency?”
“Man struck by lightning. My daughter is doing CPR.” I recited my address. “Hurry.” My teeth chattered from the icy hail. Red blotches appeared where the icy stones had stung my arms.
“Try and stay calm,” the operator said. “Responders will be there quickly.” The voice sounded familiar and, of all things, tears ran from my eyes. I couldn’t contain a sob.
“Are you standing or sitting?”
“Standing.”
“Sit down and take a deep breath.”
I immediately sat down in Mel’s office chair to control my adrenaline rush.
“Are you calmer?” the voice asked.
“Yes.” And I was. Her unruffled voice and the com
fort of Mel’s old chair helped.
“You’re Corinne Cooper? Right?”
“How did you know?”
“The computer screen tells me, but I recognized your voice. I took the call when the woman fell down the hill.”
“I thought you sounded familiar.”
“You’ll have help in a few minutes. Will it be okay if I take other calls while you wait? This storm has us hopping like mad.” After my consent, she disconnected.
My hand lingered for a quick brush on the arm of Mel’s chair before I rushed outside. The hail had stopped, but the rain still poured down as I hurried over to Marley. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”
She didn’t answer, and I backed off, not wanting to break her concentration on counting and pushing. Her hair hung in drenched strands, her strong arms glistening as she pumped. Her soaked shirt stuck to her skin. She needed to be wrapped in a warm blanket, but I didn’t dare weight her down with even a towel.
The man seemed familiar. I couldn’t see his face from my angle and was about move to see if I knew him when a fire truck screamed onto our block. I hurried to the sidewalk and flagged it down. Two men jumped from the truck, grabbed equipment, and ran across slippery hailstones, their yellow rain slickers flapping.
Marley yelled, “Can’t get a pulse.”
One of the men fell to his knees beside her. She pushed on the chest again, then rolled off, and he straddled the big abdomen.
I caught sight of the victim’s face. Lester Fitch? “That dirty bugger was in my trees again?”
No one reacted. It was as if I hadn’t spoken.
Marley sat on the ground, water running off her, steam rising from her head, leaning on her knees. She gulped for air. Her heart had to be racing. How could it not be? Her arms would be sore for days because of Lester and his snooping. I wanted to give him a swift kick. That’d wake him up.
One of the EMTs dropped down beside Marley. “I’m sorry, but he didn’t make it.”
Marley buried her face tighter into her knees.
For that one horrible moment, I didn’t care. I was furious with Lester. I clasped my hand against my mouth, glad more of my angry thoughts had not been voiced.
The EMT turned to me. “Mrs. Cooper, do you know who he is?”
I managed to say, somewhat calmly, “Lester Fitch. He lives on the next street over. Don’t know the house number, but he has a wife. I’ll show you where.”
“That’s not necessary. The city police will notify the next of kin.”
I barely nodded to indicate I’d heard him.
“Really, it’s okay. Take your daughter and go inside. If there are more questions, somebody will let you know.”
I helped Marley up, and we made it as far as the front porch when a voice called, “What happened?” Fred hurried up the sidewalk.
“It’s really you?” My knees almost buckled. He appeared thin and haggard but okay. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
He closed the distance. “Got home this afternoon. The storm hit when I went after some groceries.” He nodded his shaggy head toward the firetruck. “Who got hurt?”
“Lester Fitch. A bolt of lightning hit the spruce. He won’t spy anymore. We need to go inside and dry off. You want to come in? We have some leftover pizza.”
“Naw, I’m good. Just want to be in my home.” Fred hunkered deeper into his jacket and walked away. The rain was still falling but had calmed to a breezy drizzle.
“Bet that’s the first time he’s ever turned down pizza,” Marley said. She shook her head and stepped inside to hurry for the nearest blanket.
Wrapped in a warm comforter, I kept track of what was happening outside through the wavy panes of my old windows. The blurred and distorted scene of the covered body and rain-soaked men milling around appeared like a scene from a science fiction film. My rose bushes drooped from the beating rain. The hail had flattened my bedding plants. Dead twigs, broken branches, maple leaves, and scraps from the lightning-blasted tree were scattered everywhere. My yard looked like a war zone, complete with a dead body in it.
Finally, a white car marked Sheriff wavered through the rain-streaked glass. It parked near the fire truck.
Metcalf slid out and limped to Lester lying dead on the saturated ground. The sheriff squatted down and lifted the tarp to examine the body, then rose and took a long time studying the damaged tree. A jagged spear of the trunk sticking maybe ten feet high was all that remained. Bark, limbs, and chunks of wood were scattered across the yard, some pieces blown as far as the potting shed.
Lester’s body was finally loaded onto a stretcher and wheeled away. The fire truck left my yard and the Sheriff climbed the steps of the covered enclosed front porch. I opened the door before he knocked and joined him outside.
“Mrs. Cooper, I wanted to let you know Mr. Fitch’s body is being transported to the morgue for autopsy.”
“The lightning hit the tree and blew up on him.”
“The medical examiner will provide the official cause of death. You’ll need it for insurance purposes.”
That didn’t make sense to me. “I’m not responsible for his death.”
“No, but it happened on your property, and, in this day and age, don’t be surprised if you get sued.”
Chapter 20
T wo days after Lester died under my tree, a couple of uniformed officers finally took down the yellow crime scene tape. On the third day, a tree service removed the scarred and jagged tree trunk. They also cleaned up the limbs and chunks of wood, leaving a mound of sawdust behind. The place where the spruce had thrived seemed so barren now, but I didn’t know whether I wanted to replace it or fill in the spot with lawn. Neither seemed right.
What really pestered me was the vision of Lester lying flat on his back and Marley pumping his chest in an attempt to save his life. The image wouldn’t leave me alone. A forewarning of more to come? I tensed with an apprehension I couldn’t shake.
On the fourth day, I had barely finished swiping all the spruce needles off the picnic tabletop when the sound of a car door closing in the front of my house carried to the back patio. Then another door slammed. I set the bucket of sudsy water down and walked around to see what was going on.
A tan sedan was parked in my driveway, and a black SUV was parallel to the sidewalk in front of my house. Detective Langnecker made it up the porch steps before he saw me. He grinned. “Morning, Mrs. Cooper.”
I didn’t return his smile. “I’m assuming you’re here to ask more questions.” Then I noticed Theo Wood in the shade of the porch near the door like he was lying in wait to ambush me. It’d take more than that to trick me.
That repulsive detective had the nerve to ask, “May we come inside?”
No way in hell was I going to invite him into my home. I faced him straight on. “Just ask what you want right here.”
Theo Wood smirked. “We have a little surprise for you, and it’d be better for you to be sitting down.”
He’d do anything to get inside my house and snoop around. Over my dead body. Besides, Mel would pitch a fit in heaven.
Detective Langnecker spoke up, “Let’s make this easy and use the table on the back patio.”
Without a choice, I led the way past dead twigs, torn leaves, and pitchy pine cones left from the lightning strike.
“The storm really did a number on your yard,” Detective Langnecker said.
I didn’t respond. I just couldn’t pretend it was okay to have Theo Wood on my property. At the table, I chose to sit with my back to the sun—let Theo squint or duck his head in the glare. I curled my hands together in my lap to help keep control, knowing he would stretch one wrong answer into more and more questions. I met his eyes as the two detectives settled and sat quietly for a moment.
Theo jumped into the silence. “There’s been an update on the cause of death of the man killed on your property.”
Langnecker frowned at Theo.
Theo shrugged back and said, “The com
mander wants me to ask about what Mrs. Cooper saw of the incident. That’s all.” He turned his attention to me. “Results from the autopsy on Lester Fitch says he was dead before the lightning hit the tree.”
Langnecker quickly stood and said to Theo, “We need a word right now.”
Theo looked at me and then back at Langnecker. He slowly rose and followed, and they disappeared around the side of the house. I caught a few angry words but not enough to know what was being said. In a few moments, I heard a car door slam and the motor revving.
A moment later, Langnecker calmly strolled back to the patio and sat down. “Mrs. Cooper, we normally don’t discuss the findings in a case when interviewing folks for facts that might bring to light what happened. But I will tell you Mr. Fitch did not die of natural causes or from the lightning strike.”
I couldn’t say a word. I had better find a lawyer, but who?
“Is Marley home?” he asked, as if to give me enough time to recover from what he had just said.
“She’s out for a run.” I noticed a flicker of disappointment cross his face and added, “Should be back any time.”
Langnecker placed his phone on the table. “May I record the rest of our conversation?”
“Of course.” I brushed away a few greenish-brown maple seedpods lying at the end of the table near my chair. One planted itself upright into a crack and jabbed my finger. I yanked my hand back. No blood. I picked at the seedpod, pulled it out, and flipped it away. It took a nosedive and dropped into the grass between my feet, planting itself.
He chuckled. “Mrs. Cooper, don’t worry so.”
“I did not push Edgy, and I don’t know what happened to Lester.”
He glanced down to where the seedpod had dropped, then said, “How long do you think it’ll take that maple to root?”
I shrugged. “A long time.”
“That’s how it is with some criminal investigations. We gather the facts and turn them over to the county attorney’s office, and they decide whether or not to proceed. It takes time, but I have listened to you and will put that in my report.”
Those were the most words he had strung together since we’d met. I studied his face, trying to see if he was smarting off or sincere. Hard to tell, but maybe he was beginning to believe me.
Blame the Car Ride Page 18