Kendra Clayton Mystery Box Set

by Angela Henry

  “Heard anything from Bernie?” Gwen asked.

  “No, but I think I’ll stop by to see how she’s doing later on.”

  “This murder is all anyone in the shop could talk about yesterday,” Gwen said.

  “The shop” was actually B & S Hair Design and Nail Sculpture, owned and operated by Gwen’s oldest nephew, Bruce, and his wife, Sheila. Bruce is one of four hair stylists in the shop, and Sheila and two other women do nails. I used to frequent the shop once a week on a regular basis until a year ago. Now I go every four to six weeks for a trim.

  “So what are they saying at the shop?” I asked.

  “Well, everyone is pretty much in agreement that Jordan had it coming. Half think Bernie did it and the other half think Vanessa Brumfield did it. I did find out something I didn’t know though,” Gwen said with a satisfied smirk. “According to Natasha Woods—she’s the new manicurist at the shop—Vanessa and Bernie weren’t the only ones Jordan was messing with. She saw him a couple of times with some real young chick. She said she saw them twice, and they were arguing both times. Now ain’t that a trip?”

  “Just because she saw them together doesn’t mean anything was going on. Did Natasha know who the girl was?” I asked.

  “No, she was too far away, and the girl had her back to her both times.”

  “But she saw enough to run her mouth about something that may or may not be true. Now see, that’s how shi—” I caught myself just in time to see Mama cut her eyes at me. “That’s how stuff gets started,” I finished.

  “Uh, I don’t recall ever seeing you covering up your ears when the ‘stuff’ starts going around.” She playfully swatted me on the arm with the now rolled-up section of the newspaper, making me feel like a bad dog.

  “Kendra, what do you think happened?” Alex asked.

  “No clue,” I said. But I did know that Bernie wasn’t telling me something and that something had caused her to lie to the police. Even though she had promised to enlighten me, I’d yet to hear from her. I was beginning to worry that getting an explanation would be as hard as pulling teeth with tweezers.

  Then there was that weird note I found. Who dropped it in the backyard? I was assuming that it hadn’t been left there on purpose. Maybe it was. It was found in the yard of a house occupied by Vanessa Brumfield, and she was nowhere to be found. She could have pretended to leave town, then snuck back and killed Jordan. She could have left the note to further confuse things. Then there was the question of why. What would cause either Bernie or Vanessa to kill Jordan? Was it true? Was there someone else besides Vanessa that Jordan was involved with? Did Bernie know about this person as well? I thought back on Jordan’s body, his smashed head, and all that blood. Whoever killed him must have been enraged and must have kept hitting him long after he was dead.

  “Well, if I didn’t know any better, my money would be on Denton Cox,” Alex said.

  “Who?” Mama, Gwen, and I said simultaneously.

  “Denton Cox is Vanessa’s father and was my old boss at Hampton’s,” he said like we should have known this was common knowledge.

  Hampton’s was a company that manufactured truck parts where Alex had worked for years and had been laid off from about a year before it went out of business.

  “I didn’t know that,” I said.

  “Yeah, he’s one of those white men who smile in your face, slap you on the back, and compliment you on a job well done. Was always sweet-talking you into working overtime, then acted like he didn’t want to pay you for it. Then as soon as you were out of earshot he’d be dropping the N word left and right. Boy, what I would have given to be a fly on the wall when he found out who his precious daughter was marrying.” The gleam in his eye told me it would have been a scene he would have treasured for life.

  “So why do you think he would have killed Jordan?” Gwen asked before I could.

  “Well, he basically disowned Vanessa after she got married. Then she separates from her husband and they file for divorce. There were no children as far as I know. So, this makes Daddy very happy and he’s willing to forgive and forget. But what he doesn’t know is that Vanessa is messing around with yet another brother. Somehow he finds out and is furious enough to kill.”

  “But you said you knew he couldn’t have done it. How?” I asked.

  “I ran into a buddy of mine from Hampton’s last weekend. We got to talking and Cox’s name came up. He asked me if I knew if it was true about Denton Cox being in the hospital. I hadn’t heard anything about it, so I asked around and found out that Cox is in the hospital, been there a couple of weeks.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Mama asked.

  “He’s dying of cancer. He’s not expected to make it through the end of the month.”

  I left Mama’s around four and decided to head over to Bernie’s. I had a lemon cake with me that Mama had made for me to take over. I was instantly reminded of Diane’s remark about people bringing over more food than you can eat in a month when someone died and had to laugh. It was certainly true but you can hardly fault folks for trying to be thoughtful during a difficult time.

  Fifteen minutes later, I pulled my little blue Nova into the circular drive behind a silver Mercedes that I recognized to be Diane’s. I almost turned around and left. I wanted to talk to Bernie alone, plus I didn’t feel like being bothered by Ms. Attitude. But, maybe there was a chance to talk alone, after all. The front door opened and Diane came out carrying an overnight bag.

  Whatever her irritating qualities were, I had to admit that she had style. Today she was wearing a hot-pink suit, the skirt of which was short and tight as usual. The blazer was long and if it had been buttoned up, would have almost hidden the skirt. Her pink-and-white sling-back pumps added about three inches to her height. Although this wasn’t an outfit I could see myself wearing in my forties, I had to admit she had the body to pull it off. Bitch!

  For a split second I saw a look of irritation flicker across her face when she saw me. It was quickly replaced by a phony smile. She took a pair of sunglasses out of her pocket and put them on. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she flicked a piece of it out of her face.

  “If you’re looking for Bernie, she’s not here,” Diane said, setting the bag on the ground by her car.

  “She’s staying with me for a few days. I just feel that at a time like this she needs to be surrounded by her family. She and Trevor are all I have left, and we need to stick together.” She sounded as if she had rehearsed that little speech for my benefit. Because if anybody knew better, it was me.

  “I couldn’t agree more, Diane,” I said with equal insincerity. “How is Bernie?”

  “Not too good. She’s been having trouble sleeping, which is understandable. She’ll probably be all right after the funeral when she can put all this behind her.”

  “When is the funeral?”

  “Well, they’re releasing the body to the funeral home on Tuesday. So, I imagine it will be toward the end of week. Maybe Thursday. The sooner the better as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Do you know how things went at the police station yesterday?” I asked.

  “Okay, I guess. She didn’t say much about it. Why?” she asked, pulling her sunglasses down slightly and peering down over the tops of them at me. In the bright sunshine I could see lines around her eyes that I’d never noticed before.

  “Is there any reason why there would have been a problem?”

  “No,” I lied. “I was just wondering how everything went and if they have any leads on a suspect.”

  “Like I said, she didn’t say much about it,” she said dismissively as if the subject suddenly bored her.

  “I’m late for a meeting, and I have to take these clothes over to Bernie. Hey, could you do me a big favor, Kendra, and run these things over to her for me?” she said in a breathy little girl’s voice that she probably reserved solely for getting people, especially men, to do things for her. I was so taken aback by it that I looked
around quickly thinking that maybe a member of the opposite sex had walked up behind me. If it weren’t for the fact that I wanted to talk to Bernie alone, Diane would have been out of luck.

  “Yeah, I’ll take the bag over.”

  “Thanks, Kendra, you’re a lifesaver!” With a phony flash of teeth and a toss of her hair she was in her car and tearing out of the driveway, leaving the bag sitting on the ground.

  I drove the three blocks to Diane’s sprawling ranch on Blue Spruce Trail. I’d only been there once before, back during my days as a high school English teacher. Diane’s son, Trevor, had been my worst nightmare. When he wasn’t being disruptive and cutting up, he was sullen and inattentive. I had mistakenly thought that by having a meeting with his parents I could get them on my side and together we could turn his behavior around. Ah, the delusions of a naive young teacher.

  I had been invited to their house, which I thought was a good sign. I was wrong. While Ben Gibson was slightly more reasonable than his wife, I got the distinct impression from both of them that they felt their son’s behavior was not only the fault of the school’s but mine as well. Their child could do no wrong. If he was being disruptive, it was because he wasn’t being challenged enough by the curriculum, not because he was spoiled, lazy, and disrespectful. They promptly pulled him out of school and enrolled him in a private boarding school around the Columbus area, which didn’t hurt my feelings a bit. It was only then that I started enjoying my job a little, and then I was laid off. Imagine my delight when I became friends with Bernie and found out who her brother and sister-in-law were.

  I turned into the long winding driveway that led to the house. It sat back from the street and was almost completely hidden by trees and hedges. The house itself was a huge Spanish-style stucco ranch. The yard had been landscaped to within an inch of its life, complete with a small fountain in the middle of which sat a mermaid, reclining on a rock, with water shooting out of her mouth. Money obviously doesn’t buy good taste. A wrought-iron gate, which was strictly for decoration, surrounded the house, complete with a buzzer-and-intercom system, which I buzzed. After about a minute, a woman’s voice that I vaguely recognized as Bernie’s answered.

  “It’s Kendra, Bernie,” I answered. I tried to ignore the fact that it seemed as if she’d hesitated a little too long in buzzing the gate and letting me in. The gate swung open and I drove through, parked, and walked down another short pathway to the front door. Before I could knock, one side of a set of heavy oak double doors opened. “Hey, girlfriend,” Bernie said without much enthusiasm.

  I had to admit she did look tired. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her face had a pinched look. She was dressed in black leggings and an oversized, slightly wrinkled, white T-shirt that hung almost to her knees. Her feet were bare, and I noticed her toenails were painted bright red. Her hair was pulled back in its usual perfect French roll. Not a hair was out of place. She stepped aside to let me pass and eyed the bag I brought with a quizzical look.

  “I stopped by your house and ran into Diane. She asked me to bring this over to you. She was late for a meeting, or so she said.”

  “I think Diane has a boyfriend, though she won’t admit it. Lord, Kendra, she’s about to drive me crazy. I told her I don’t know how many times that I was fine at home; then she started doing her whiny little girl routine, and I was willing to agree to anything to get her to shut up. Ben used to fall for that mess all the time. I swear I don’t know how he put up with her.”

  “Well, I’ve got just the thing to take your mind off Diane.” I held out the cake tin. “Mama sent over one of her lemon cakes.”

  “Ooh! Follow me. I could probably eat the whole thing by myself. The only food in this house is a head of wilted lettuce, a can of coffee, and some rice cakes.”

  I cringed as I followed her down the hallway. As we walked through the family room, I noticed how it had changed since the last time I had been there, almost four years ago. The decor was now a southwestern theme. The gleaming hardwood floors were covered with Indian-print rugs. The walls were white stucco. Two large potted cactus plants flanked either side of the fireplace. A white couch was draped with an Aztec-print throw in shades of orange, brown, and black. There were also several pieces of Indian sculpture. It was a beautiful room and looked very warm and inviting. I followed Bernie into the kitchen, which was another matter. It was completely white and very sterile looking with chrome and white appliances. No plants, dishrags, or potholders; not even a dirty plate or cup in the sink to show that this room was alive.

  I set the yellow flowered cake tin down and at once noticed how out of place it looked. Bernie got two plates—white, of course—out of the cabinet and handed me a knife to cut the cake. I sliced two thick pieces.

  “Let’s eat outside. This kitchen depresses me,” Bernie said.

  She led the way through a set of French doors just off the kitchen and out onto a stone patio. We sat down at a maroon-and-gold striped canopied table. We sat in silence for a few minutes savoring the moist lemony sweetness of the cake. I watched Bernie as we ate. She was being pleasant enough, but I could tell she hadn’t been thrilled to see me. I was beginning to wonder if the real reason she was staying here was so she could avoid me.

  “So, how’d it go yesterday?” I asked.

  “Fine.” She wouldn’t look at me. I knew this was going to be like pulling teeth.

  “Then there was no problem with your explanation about why you went to the house?”

  “I told them just what I said I would, that I went there to get my car from Jordan. I also said that I was beginning to get suspicious about all the time he was spending over there, which is why I let myself into the house when there was no answer at the door.”

  “What I can’t understand is why you don’t want the police to know that you knew for sure that they were involved. What difference could that make?”

  For a minute I didn’t think she was going to answer me; then finally she sighed and spoke.

  “Kendra, I did something stupid a long time ago. Something that could give the police reason to suspect me if they find out that I knew about Vanessa.” She saw the look on my face and continued. “Now hold up! I didn’t kill him, even though I was mad enough to when I found out what he was up to. So don’t look at me like that!” she said defensively.

  “Well, are you going to tell me what you did? I mean I did lie and withhold information from the police. I’d like to know why in case this comes back to bite me in the ass!” We glared at each other for a few seconds; then she got up from the table and stood facing away from me.

  “When I graduated from college, I still didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I had a degree in home economics. Mother really hated that. She always wanted me and Ben to take over running the real estate company when we finished with school so she could cut back and do some traveling. Ben was all for it. I wasn’t. I couldn’t find a job and had to live at home. Mother told me that in exchange for room and board I had to work for her until I found another job. I think she was hoping I’d learn to like the business and want to stay on and get my real estate license.” She turned around and came back to sit at the table.

  “That’s where I met Raymond Hodge. He was one of my mother’s real estate agents. Raymond was eleven years older than me. He was handsome, dressed real nice, and talked a good game. Jordan reminded me a lot of Raymond,” she said wistfully.

  “I was a naive twenty-two-year-old who never had a real boyfriend and didn’t date much. So when Raymond started paying me attention, I was flattered. We started seeing each other. I was so happy because I couldn’t believe a man like Raymond could ever be interested in me. He told me he wanted to marry me. I said yes and we became engaged. We’d been hiding our relationship from my mother because Raymond said she would think he was too old for me and that she would try and break us up. God, I was a fool!

  “Raymond lived in Dayton. He told me he lived with his sister and brother-i
n-law, which was why I could never come over to see him. He said he didn’t get along with his brother-in-law. I believed everything he told me, not because it made sense, but because I wanted to believe in him.” She looked at her empty plate and then at me.

  “What went wrong?” I asked, even though I knew what she was going to say. I’d heard this same story in many different forms from other women.

  “He was married, that’s what went wrong! All that time he was married and hiding it from everyone, not just me. He lived with his wife, and his brother-in-law lived with them. One of the other agents saw him and his wife at a club one night and asked if she was Raymond’s girlfriend. It all came out that she was his wife. The agent came back to work and told us all about it. No one knew I was seeing him, so I wasn’t completely humiliated. Later that night, I confronted Raymond about his wife and he broke down and started crying. He said he loved me and he knew I wouldn’t have had anything to do with him if I knew he was married. He said he was in the process of divorcing his wife so he could marry me. He even offered to show me the divorce papers he had had drawn up by his lawyer.”

  “Let me guess,” I said, interrupting her, “you believed him.”

  “Hook, line, and sinker,” she said with a tight smile. “Actually, he was telling the truth about the divorce. He was divorcing his wife. But it wasn’t for the love of me. It was for the love of my mother’s money, which he thought he could get his hands on by marrying me. His wife knew there was another woman, and when she found out it was me, she went straight to my mother and told her. My mother and I got into the biggest fight we’d ever had in my life. She was so hurt and disappointed. She threatened to fire Raymond if I didn’t stop seeing him. I knew how much he loved his job, so I said I wouldn’t see him again.