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Motorhomes, Maps, & Murder

Page 13

by Tonya Kappes


  Instead of lying in bed tossing and turning more, I went ahead and made a pot of coffee. While I waited for Fifi to wake up and the morning sun to rise, I pulled out the notebook I’d used for investigating other murders in Normal from the junk drawer and sat down at the café table.

  Not that I was really doing any sort of investigating, but if I wrote down the things Hank had told me, maybe I could help him come up with reasonable answers about Greaser and who had killed him.

  We knew that Greaser killed Darnell Grassel and Burt Buggy. He also tried to kill Flora Jean, who was still in a coma. I flipped the notebook open and wrote Greaser’s name in the middle with a circle around it. Then I made lines coming out from it in the shape of the sun.

  I printed Darnell on one line, Burt on another, and then Flora on another.

  “If only you would wake up.” I put a star next to Flora’s name, knowing that Hank really needed her to be his star witness, to wake up and tell him what happened.

  I wrote down the timeline of the morning of the reenactment and filled in when I saw Greaser get the outfit from Queenie and when Julip was giggling. I had a weird feeling in my gut that Julip knew more than she was saying.

  I wrote her name on a line and quickly made bullet points about her behavior. I wrote that she wasn’t as friendly when we went to her house. She didn’t appear to want to look at the map. She got defensive when Hank even mentioned it. She was scared. She said she was scared there was an accomplice, but was she really?

  If she was scared, why hadn’t she packed up and left hours before after dropping me off?

  “Where were you all morning before and after the reenactment?” I looked at her name and questioned her whereabouts.

  A car horn beeped. I jumped up when I realized I’d been sitting there daydreaming about the events that’d happened and dawn had flown by. The sun was up.

  I threw my notebook in my bag and quickly took Fifi out to potty.

  “Are you comin’ or not?” Dottie had rolled down her window, her hair still up in her pink sponge curlers. “I’ve got things to do.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I pointed to Fifi. “I’ll get her inside.” I patted my leg when I noticed Fifi was wasting time and running around to smell all the scents of all the creatures that came out at night. “Let’s eat!” I hollered, knowing it would get her in the RV.

  She darted up the steps. Once we were inside, I gave her a scoop of kibble and freshened up her water.

  “I’ll be back soon,” I assured her and gave her a pat on the head. She was accustomed to a life of lying around and being pampered when I got her. A good romp with other dogs, like she had with Chester last night, wore her out for days, so I didn’t feel too bad leaving her today since I knew she’d sleep and recover.

  “How was supper?” Dottie was wasting no time getting to the meat of my dinner date. “I’m guessing you’re in with the fam.”

  “Do you know Hank’s parents?” I asked and clicked my seat belt on. “They are moving back, and Hank really never talks about them.”

  “I’ve seen them a time or two at the diner, but rarely since they’ve not lived here in so long.” She zoomed out of the campground.

  “Seriously, fifteen miles per hour,” I reminded her of the speed limit.

  “I’ve got some bad news.” Was this her way of telling me it was okay that she was speeding? “The Bassetts are suing for mental reasons or something weird.”

  “Suing who? For what?” I took a good look at Dottie’s hair to make sure her curlers weren’t wound too tight because she wasn’t making a lick of sense.

  “You. They are suing you.” Her hands gripped the wheel, her body stiffened.

  “Me?” I gasped, a shiver of panic coursing through my veins. “Why me? I got them their motorhome back and it was all in one piece. I don’t have anything.”

  “I got the papers this morning. They are suing you for the deed to Happy Trails.” One of her hands let go of the wheel as she reached into the console between the seats for her cigarette pouch. “They said it’s mental damage or some malarkey and they can’t go back into the motorhome.”

  “This doesn’t make any sense. They’ve been catered to by Mary Elizabeth this entire time and I got them their motorhome back. Who gave you the paperwork?” I asked.

  “Their lawyer. Fancy one too.” She tapped the cigarette case on the side of the steering wheel, jiggling one of the cigarettes out just enough for her to put it up to her lip and pull it the rest of the way out. “I told him you didn’t have much and how could they do that?” She flung her head to the side. “Papers in the back seat.”

  “What did he say?” I asked and reached over the seat to get them.

  “He said they talked to someone and heard you was rich once. He said he was gonna get your accounts and see if you’re hiding money. I told him he was crazy.” She shook her head. “If I were you, I’d give that woman lawyer a call.”

  “You mean Ava Cox?” Saying her name brought back bad memories.

  “If you think she can get you out of this.” Dottie pulled up to my car in front of Agnes’s house. “I’ll see you at the Laundry Club.”

  I got out of the car with the papers from the Bassetts’ lawyer stuck up under my armpit and dug deep into my bag, looking for my wallet where I’d stashed Ava Cox’s business card. It was a number I hadn’t wanted to program into my phone. Past history and all.

  There was so much junk in the bag that I had to take my notebook out and set it on top of the car. I pulled each side of the bag apart and looked in while jiggling it around to move the contents inside.

  Just as I was giving up and grabbed my keys, the wind picked up and blew the notebook off the car, sending into the street.

  I jerked around and took a step towards it when a car came to a screeching halt.

  “Mae!” Hank jumped out of the car with a frightened look on his face. “You’ve got to start paying attention to what you’re doing.” He scolded me before picking up the notebook.

  “You’ve got to stop going so fast.” I put my hand on the notebook to take it and he pulled it away, holding it up in the air so I couldn’t grab it. “Besides, I’m preoccupied.”

  “What is this?” he asked since the notebook had conveniently opened to the page where I’d started to make notes about Greaser. “Are you doing some sort of investigation?”

  “I’m being sued.” I didn’t care about Greaser right now. All I cared about was getting hold of Ava. I handed him the papers from underneath my armpit and took my notebook back. “The Bassetts feel like they’ve been emotionally scarred by their motorhome being stolen. Someone told them I used to be married to a kazillionaire or something and they think I have cash stashed.”

  “Do you?” He looked up at me from the stack of papers. “I mean, when I first met you, you did have money stored in a sock.”

  “No. If I had any extra money, I’d be spending it on a manicure and a new dye job on my hair instead of having Dottie go down to Grassel’s gas station to get me some L’Oréal.”

  That was the one thing I did miss about having money. The ability to look good without trying. I would come out of a salon and look like a million dollars. Here? Not so much. I was lucky to get makeup on most days. Heck, even get my teeth brushed. Mary Elizabeth would fall over and die if she knew this information.

  He handed the papers back to me.

  “We will figure it out.” He was trying to put a positive spin on things, but it didn’t help. “Now, what’s with the notebook?”

  “Last night I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned. I got to thinking about Julip and how strange she was acting.” I began to tell him about the reenactment, but didn’t get far.

  His phone rang and he answered it.

  “I’ll be right there. Don’t start without me.” He tucked the phone back in his pocket. “I’ve got to go. Flora Jean opened her eyes.”

  Sixteen

  “What did she say?” Betts dragged a foot
underneath her as she grabbed one of Mary Elizabeth’s cinnamon rolls.

  “I have no idea. He just said she opened her eyes.” I gave everyone a Styrofoam cup and went around to fill them up with freshly brewed coffee. “Would you like a top off?” I asked one of the customers who was at the puzzle table working on a few pieces while their laundry was finishing up in the dryer. They’d already gotten a cup, but I had enough to give him a little more before I made a fresh pot. “He told whoever called him not to do anything until he got there,” I said over my shoulder on my way over to top off the customer’s coffee.

  “It’ll be very interesting to hear what Greaser said to her.” Poor Queenie. She looked all worn out. Even her pink Jazzercise leotard had a faded look to it. The white sweatband around her forehead had balled up fuzzies on it. She was definitely looking like a wilted grapevine.

  “If he said anything.” Abby walked over to the TV area when she saw Hank giving a press conference from in front of the hospital on the early morning news. She picked up the remote off the coffee table and sat down at the edge of the couch while turning the volume up.

  Betts, Queenie, Dottie, Mary Elizabeth, Dawn, and I walked over with our coffee and listened as Hank gave the update about Flora Jean. It sounded like she didn’t remember what happened. A doctor answered some questions from the media, but she said this wasn’t uncommon and usually they did eventually get some memory back. She couldn’t say how long it would take Flora Jean to get her memory or even that she would, only that she was going to live. The stab wound had been repaired, no major organs were injured, and she expected Flora Jean to make a full recovery.

  “That’s all good news.” Betts put her hands together like she was offering a prayer of thanks before she went back over to the book club area where we’d been gathered before Hank had come on the news.

  Mary Elizabeth went to the bathroom and Dawn walked over to the coffee bar to refill her cup.

  Dottie, Queenie, and I waited until Hank finished the conference.

  Hank wrapped up the news conference by asking the public to come forward if they recalled seeing anyone on the side of the road the morning Greaser left the Milkery or the day before when he escaped. Hank described the clothing that Mary Elizabeth and Dawn had mentioned.

  “Mary Elizabeth, where did that bag of clothes go that you brought in here to be washed?” I asked her when she came out of the bathroom.”

  I’d completely forgotten about it, and she obviously had too.

  “I forgot all about those.” Her jaw dropped. She pointed to the couch. “I remember setting it down over there.” She walked over and looked around. “Betts, did you see a little duffle bag with some clothes in it over here?”

  “No.” Betts shook her head. “Someone probably took it. It’s not unusual for items to be taken from the laundromat if no one is in here to watch them since we are open twenty-four hours. I even had to post a sign.”

  Like rubberneckers, all of us turned to look at the door where she did in fact have a sign about not leaving your belongings and how the Laundry Club wasn’t responsible for them if you did.

  The phone rang and Betts went into the office to answer it.

  “It sure was a nice bag too.” Mary Elizabeth’s brows knitted. “One of Lily’s,” she referred to Lily Pulitzer as if they were on a first name basis. “A special yearly bag she puts out. I liked it too. Had a very colorful floral pattern. Oh, well.” Her shoulders lifted to her ears and back down. “Do any of y’all know this Flora?”

  “I do. She comes to the evening Jazzercise Strike class. She’s in good shape.” Queenie wasn’t her usual upbeat self. “I bet she survived because she has good muscle memory.”

  “Would it be rude if I took her these cinnamon rolls?” Mary Elizabeth asked.

  “I’ll take them to her if you want me to. I was going to stop by.” It wasn’t like I knew her, but I wanted to see how she was doing for myself. Not that it was my business. I still had a feeling Julip wasn’t being so forthcoming with information.

  Did Julip hear something Greaser said to these people? Or did he say something different to her that made her giggle?

  “That’d be great because I’ve got to get our picnic stuff together still.” Mary Elizabeth grinned. “Both of my babies and me.”

  I planted my palm on my forehead.

  “I completely forgot,” I groaned at how bad I had gotten about remembering things.

  All of us took a seat in the book club area. Even Betts joined us after her phone call.

  “I wanted everyone to come not only because I missed you all and we wanted to make sure Betts is okay.” I started the conversation.

  “And Lester too.” Queenie made sure to chime in.

  “And Lester.” I agreed. “I wanted to see if we could do a food chain.”

  “Oh, shoot!” Betts smacked her leg. “I’m in charge of those for the church and I completely forgot.”

  “It’s fine, honey.” Mary Elizabeth leaned over and patted Betts’s leg. “We’ve been under a lot of stress lately. But I thought Carol Wise was in charge of the church food chain.”

  “She is. . .was.” Betts’s brows pinched. “She’s not been coming to church, so I guess I better do it.”

  Abby walked back over to the coffee station when the coffee pot had beeped it was finished brewing.

  “That’s why I wanted to tell everyone while we were together. Betts shouldn’t have to be in charge with everything she’s got going on. I think we can pull together and do it.” I opened my bag and pulled out my notebook. I ripped a piece of paper out of it and handed it to Queenie. “Can you be in charge of writing everyone’s name down?”

  This gave me a good excuse to go see Carol Wise and ask her to do it, knowing we’d already done it. It was just an opening. Then maybe she’d tell me about her lack of tithe and why she’d not been to church. If I could prove that’s the discrepancy in the church’s taxes, that’d be one thing I could take off of Betts and Lester’s plate.

  “I’ve got to get out of here.” Dottie was the first to write down what she was going to cook. “It’s my day to work at the office.”

  “You better pull them curlers out of your hair.” Queenie reached up to take one out and Dottie smacked her hand away.

  “Get off me, crazy.” Dottie took a couple of side steps away from Queenie.

  “Aww, Dottie, don’t be mad.” Queenie teased as Dottie opened the door to leave. “You know I love you.”

  Dottie didn’t look back, she simply lifted her hand and gave her a not so friendly gesture while the rest of us laughed.

  I got up and walked over to the coffee station to talk to Abby, leaving my notebook on the chair along with my bag while everyone discussed what dishes they were taking to what family. I didn’t want everyone to hear me ask her about the prisoners and the library.

  “Last night I went to see Julip with Hank and she mentioned the prisoners get to come to the library. Is that true?” I asked and slowly stirred more cream into the fresh cup of coffee.

  “They do. It’s a federal program. They leave all the books out and it drives me crazy.” She brought her cup up to her mouth.

  “They found a hand drawn map on Greaser. The map didn’t make sense, and I wondered if the prisoners have access to the map section.” I leaned up against the coffee stand.

  “They have access just like you and I do. A lot of them are getting their law degree. It seems to be a common thing.” She blew on the steaming cup before she took another sip. “Did Greaser steal the map?”

  Her face went white.

  “No. I don’t think so. It looks very elementary. I think someone on the outside helped him because he had drawn two trails that had some sort of fork in them.” I really had no idea what I was talking about.

  “Fork?” Abby’s brows rose.

  “I guess a fork in the trail or something. I don’t know. Why didn’t you mention Greaser was at the library?” I wanted to know why she hadn�
�t said anything about it.

  “I didn’t know any of them. I don’t get a list and don’t talk to them. The guard brought them in and stood at the door. We close the library early twice a month for them.” Abby shrugged and took another drink. “It was a good time for me to go into the office and get some librarian stuff done. Flora Jean usually helped them with anything they needed.”

  “Did you say Flora Jean?” I nearly dropped my cup.

  “Yes. She volunteers sometimes at the library. ” Abby acted as if it were no big deal.

  “Do you think Greaser recognized her?” I asked.

  “I don’t even know if Greaser was there, Mae.” She seemed a little fed up with my questioning her.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if Hank knew this little bit of information.

  “Was Blanche the guard that came with them?” I asked.

  Something made me wonder if Blanche had a thing going with Greaser because it did seem odd that she didn’t have a gun when he escaped, not that I didn’t believe Lester when he told Hank he didn’t like the guards to have guns.

  It wasn’t uncommon for a guard to have a relationship with a prisoner. According to some TV shows.

  “Umm. . .” Abby was hesitant.

  “Heavy set, almost shaved head, can’t really tell if she’s a . . .”

  “Man or a woman?” Abby said in a slow southern drawl in the nicest way possible.

  “Yes. That’s her.” I noted and gnawed on my lip.

  “What?” Abby asked.

  “She’s the guard that was in the room with Lester when Greaser escaped. And if he had help from the outside…” I didn’t have to say much more than that.

  “You know. I can find out who checked out the maps. They aren’t just laying there for anybody to use since some of them are pretty valuable and on loan from the Civil War Historical Society.” Her words were like hearing from a beautiful song bird.

  “That’d be great. In the meantime, I’m being sued by the motorhome people,” I told her.

  “You’re what?” Mary Elizabeth’s head nearly popped off her shoulders. “They what?”

 

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