I was shocked at this. I couldn’t imagine a teacher doing something like that. “How do you know this?”
He shrugged. “Things get around. You know how it is.”
I did know how it was, but I couldn’t imagine how I hadn’t heard a rumor like that. I wasn’t sure if he was telling me the truth, but I didn’t know any reason why he would make it up. “Do you think principal Jefferson had something to do with Darren’s death?”
He looked at me for a long moment before answering. “Let’s just say if it wasn’t a student, then it wouldn’t surprise me if it was Jefferson. There’s just something that isn’t quite right there, and although I don’t know all the details, I have pretty good instincts. I’d say principal Jefferson finally got tired of Darren Peabody taking advantage of him. It’s not like he could get rid him with Gerald being on the school board.”
I took this in. “I don’t know if that’s reason enough for murder.”
He shrugged. “I guess you can believe what you want, but I think the police should have an in-depth chat with Principal Jefferson. I think they might find out something interesting.”
“Like?” I asked.
“Principal Jefferson was fired from his last job, and because of the kindness of Gerald Garrison, he got hired on here. If he messes things up, it would mean his job. And the only person that might have something on Principal Jefferson, besides Gerald Garrison, is the person that thumbed his nose at all the rules.”
It made sense. Darren Peabody did as he pleased and even though Principal Jefferson hadn’t put his foot down and made him get in line, there had been tension between Darren and Jefferson. I’d seen it on more than one occasion. Whenever he saw Darren Peabody, he would tense up and his jaw would twitch. Robert definitely needed to speak to him.
Chapter Twelve
What Bill had said about Principal Jefferson was interesting and I was going to talk to Robert about it. It bothered me that he might be looking in Peggy’s direction, and it made more sense that Jefferson may have had something to do with Darren’s death. I’d heard just enough from Robert to worry me that he might really think Peggy had something to do with Darren’s death. Peggy didn’t do it. I didn’t have any doubts about that, and I wanted to make sure Robert did have lots of doubts about it.
On Saturday morning I took a drive past Darren’s house. I had some errands to run anyway, and I wanted to see if anything new was going on there. I didn’t know anything about Darren’s family, and I wondered if they would come to collect his things. The house was a rental, so I figured someone had to come by and clear it out at some point.
I was surprised to see Robert’s car in front of Darren’s house. I debated on whether I should stop or not. If he had somebody with him, I didn’t want him to get into trouble for me suddenly showing up there.
Pulling up behind Robert’s police-issued sedan, I stopped the Bel Air and put it into park. I hopped out and headed up the walkway, taking another look at the lawn that had been torn up by the killer’s tires. They had done a lot of damage to the lawn, and I was pretty sure it was done in anger. After all, who drives up on someone’s lawn like that? It looked like they had done a burnout right near where Darren’s body had probably lain. It made me wonder if they did it before or after running him over.
The outside of the house looked the same as it had the day Peggy and I came by. I wasn’t sure who owned it, but I was sure the police had warned them not to come by and move anything until the investigation was complete. Heading up the steps, I noticed the porch floorboards were badly worn and in need of a paint job. I figured Darren had lived here the entire time he had lived in Salyers, but apparently painting a front porch wasn’t as enjoyable to him as painting a picture. The outside of the house could’ve used a new paint job too, and I wondered what the inside of the house looked like.
The door swung open before I could knock, and Robert stood there, his overcoat and hat still on. His eyes went wide when he saw me. “Hey sis, what are you doing here?”
I shrugged and gave him a smile. “I was in the neighborhood and I thought I’d drop by.”
He narrowed his eyes at me and then he grinned. “Well I didn’t have time to make cookies or bake a cake, so I think you made a wasted trip.”
“Funny,” I said. “Are you alone?”
“Not exactly. What’s going on?” He didn’t move to let me inside.
“Who’s with you?”
“Is that Mary’s voice I hear?” a familiar voice said. A moment later, Dad came to the door. “Well, I’ll be. It’s little Mary Taylor.”
I chuckled. “Hello, Dad. How’s it going?”
“It’s going. What are you doing here?”
I shrugged. “Like I was telling Robert, I was just in the neighborhood and I thought I’d stop by. Any idea yet who might have killed Darren?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. It’s still early in the investigation. But we’ll get it sorted out sooner or later. It’s not like someone is just going to waltz into Salyers and murder someone and get away with it. We’ll catch him.”
“Him? Does that mean you know it’s a man?”
Robert chuckled. “Aren’t you observant? No, we have no idea at this point, but it usually is.”
I peered through the gap between them and into Darren’s house. There weren’t any lights on, and it was hard to see anything from where I stood. “Can I come in?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Robert said hesitantly.
“Why not? No one will know.” I looked over my shoulder and didn’t see any of the neighbors outside. I turned back. “Just for a second. What do you think?”
He shook his head, but he stepped back anyway, and then Dad did the same. I stepped into Darren’s house. Robert closed the door behind me, and I looked around the living room. I wasn’t surprised by what I saw. There were lots of avant-garde paintings on the walls, a lime green sofa, and an artist easel near the fireplace. I headed over to it to look at the painting on it. It looked like Darren was into impressionism art because I couldn’t tell what he had been painting.
“Weird,” I said looking at it. There were odd angles in what might be a man’s head, but the extra lines and colors made me confused. I was probably never going to enjoy this kind of artwork.
Robert came to stand beside me. “Isn’t it though? Makes me think he was involved in some strange things and maybe that’s what got him killed.”
“I guess weird covers it,” Dad agreed.
I turned and looked at Robert. “I heard he did drugs. Do you think it’s true?”
He shrugged. “We haven’t found anything in the house indicating that, but who knows? He did like to drink. The refrigerator is filled with beer, and there are some bottles of harder stuff in the cupboard. And I mean filled. There was only a wedge of cheese and half an onion in the refrigerator besides the beer.”
I snorted. “Typical man.”
He chuckled. “Watch it. Beryl makes sure I eat a balanced diet.”
I went over to the wall full of paintings. Either he had painted these himself or he had a lot of money to spend on other people’s paintings. I figured it was the former. There was an empty spot near the edge of the wall, and I went and looked at it. “Wonder what happened to this one?”
“Maybe it’s a spot for the one he was working on,” Dad said.
I nodded. “Is there anyone you’ve got your eye on?” I turned to look at them.
Robert looked back at me, debating on what he could say to me. “We might.”
“I know you have to keep things secret,” I said, trying to let him off the hook. “Tell me you aren’t seriously looking at Peggy.”
“I am seriously looking into anyone that may have had something to do with his death.”
I sighed dramatically. “That isn’t what I wanted to hear. Since you won’t answer me directly, am I to assume that you have your eye on her?”
He looked away. “I promise you that I wi
ll do everything I can to catch the person that did this. I’m not looking for a scapegoat of any kind.”
I groaned. He didn’t have to say her name, but clearly, he had his eye on her. “Is there anything I can do to help with the investigation?”
He chuckled. “You can stay out of it.”
I turned to him. “I promise not to interfere with the investigation. However, I’m concerned that you might be looking in the wrong direction.”
“Touché. I’m assuming that means that you have no intention of staying out of the investigation.”
I grinned. “I promise not to get in your way, and I promise not to cause any trouble.”
He nodded. “Don’t make me have to talk to you in an official capacity. Do you hear me? The chief isn’t going to like hearing that my sister and one of his officers’ daughters is sticking her nose someplace where it doesn’t belong.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to have that conversation with the chief,” Dad agreed.
“Duly noted. You can’t really be going on blueberry muffins though, right? I mean, there has to be more than blueberry muffins as a clue.”
“I’m not at liberty to say,” Robert said, looking away.
I rolled my eyes and walked into Darren’s kitchen. It was neat and perfunctory in appearance. I doubted Darren was much of a cook being on his own, and judging by the contents of his refrigerator, but I was surprised there wasn’t much in here that showed his personality. I thought he would have dressed up the space with his paintings.
“There really wasn’t much food in his refrigerator?”
“Not much. The onion, cheese, some condiments, and the beer.”
I turned and looked at him. “That’s not much of a diet.”
“It isn’t,” he agreed.
“I suppose he ate out a lot. Or maybe someone came by and cooked for him.” I was sorry I said it as soon as it was out of my mouth. Peggy was a cooking teacher, after all.
“You really need to go,” he advised me. “I don’t want someone stopping by and seeing you. And don’t touch anything. If you leave fingerprints behind, you might be arrested for murder.”
I held my hands up as I headed out of the kitchen and down the hallway. The house was wall-to-wall white carpet, and I was surprised at how clean it was. I wondered if he had to shampoo it frequently to keep it this clean.
“That’s the wrong direction,” Dad called after me.
“How many bedrooms is this house?”
“Two-bedroom, and one bath. I don’t think you should go in there.”
They followed me as I headed down the hallway. Ignoring them, I pushed open the first door with my foot and saw a neat bathroom with pink tile. I wondered how Darren felt about having a pink bathroom. I closed the door by pulling it by the edge with the back of my hand and headed to the next one. When I pushed this one open, I saw a nearly empty bedroom. It was small, and there was an old brown sofa against one wall and a small end table next to it. A yellow and orange braided rug was on the floor in front of the sofa.
“It’s not a very big house is it?”
“No, a lot of the houses over here are small like this one. Mary, I think maybe you should leave,” Robert said.
I nodded and closed the door with the back of my hand and then opened the other bedroom door. I stopped in my tracks. The bedroom was painted black and there were black curtains on the windows. A brown bedspread was on the bed and a green rug on the floor beside the bed. I turned and looked at him. “This is the ugliest bedroom I’ve ever seen.”
He chuckled. “I’m pretty sure Beryl would say the exact same thing.”
“Who paints their walls black?” I asked, looking at the room again.
“An artist?” Robert said.
I snorted. “Or a crazy person. All right, I’ll take your word for it that you’re doing everything you can to find the killer. Why are you here looking at the house again? Didn’t you get all the fingerprints and other clues the night he was killed?”
He rolled his eyes at me. “I told you, I’m not at liberty to say. Besides, it’s still a crime scene, and it takes more than a couple of hours to process it.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and shook my head. Then I sighed. It wasn’t worth the effort. He wasn’t going to tell me everything he knew. Not yet, anyway. “I guess I better get going. I don’t want to get you two into trouble. Thanks for the tour,” I said and headed for the front door.
“No problem. And I know you’re going to keep this between us,” Robert said.
“Of course I am. I’ll talk to you later. Bye, Dad.”
“Bye, Mary,” Dad said.
“See you later,” Robert added as I walked out of the open front door.
Darren Peabody was an odd bird, to say the least. And that bedroom was a nightmare. But now I was worried more than ever about Robert looking at Peggy. I knew she had to be innocent, and I wasn’t going to sit still and watch them go after her.
Chapter Thirteen
“What are you doing?” Daniel asked from behind me.
I looked up from the sewing project I was working on. He was peering over my shoulder at the fabric in front of me, a glass of iced tea in one hand. “I’m working on a baby blanket for Suellen Ross,” I informed him.
He squinted his eyes at me. “Suellen Ross? Doesn’t she already have eleven kids?”
I chuckled and reached over and lightly slapped his arm. “No, she doesn’t have eleven kids. She does, however, have six and with the new one, it will be seven. I know you’re a math whiz, and you could have added it up yourself, but I thought I’d help you out.”
He stood there and stared at me. “Seriously? She’s working on number seven?”
I rolled my eyes at him. “It’s not that many. Don’t you remember the Stevensons? They had thirteen.”
He groaned. “I can just imagine the food bill in that house.”
“Me too,” I said and lifted the presser foot, cut the threads, and held the blanket up to him. “Isn’t it adorable?”
He looked at it blankly. “I guess so.”
“Don’t say I guess so. Tell me it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.” And it was cute. I had chosen a yellow gingham check for the top and I was sewing appliquéd baby ducks, bunnies, and lambs onto it. I thought I’d add the baby’s monogrammed initials after it was born.
“Okay,” he said nodding. “It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I eyed him. “Robert and Dad were at Darren Peabody’s house this morning.”
He looked at me. “Oh? And how would you know this?”
“I guess because I was there, too,” I said with a chuckle. “I just happened to be in the neighborhood, and when I saw Robert’s car, I decided to stop in and say hello.” I put the fabric back under the presser foot and lowered it, turned the hand wheel, and inserted the needle into the fabric. I wanted to make sure the baby animals were sewn on perfectly.
“I bet you just happened to be in the neighborhood,” he said, knowingly. “Just a coincidence. Are they any closer to finding his killer?”
“I don’t know. You know how Robert is, sometimes he talks, and other times he keeps things to himself where police work is concerned. But I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s got his eye on Peggy.” I stopped what I was doing and looked up at him. I wanted him to tell me it was ridiculous, but he stood there thinking about it instead.
“Peggy? What would lead him to think it might be Peggy?” he asked, slowly.
“I guess it’s the muffins and the fact that she went out with him,” I said and sighed. “I mean, what kind of evidence is that? How many other people in this town can make blueberry muffins? And he had to have dated other women.”
“Yes, but he did mention that the muffins were quite large and fluffy. That narrows the field.”
“Yes, I suppose that would narrow the field,” I said sarcastically. “But come on. They can’t make an arrest on muffins alone, right?”
He s
hook his head. “I think we both know Robert well enough to know that he would not make an arrest based on muffins. I’m sure he has some other evidence that he’s not telling you about.”
And that was what had me worried. “She only went out with him once, you know. That wasn’t long enough for her to have a reason to kill him.”
“Yes, but maybe it was a really horrible first date, and she decided she didn’t want another one and made sure it would never happen.”
I turned around in my seat and looked at him. “I really don’t want to kid about this kind of thing. I don’t want anyone to suspect Peggy. You know what would happen after that. Principal Jefferson would do everything he could to get her fired from her position at the school even though she didn’t actually do anything.”
His eyebrows raised. “You’ve got a point there. Jefferson would do just about anything to get most of us fired. He seems to enjoy that sort of thing.”
“I tell you, he’s something else.” I turned back to my sewing machine. As I gently pressed down on the foot pedal, the thread from the bobbin suddenly jammed up and tangled. “Not again,” I said, releasing the presser foot.
“Why don’t you get a new sewing machine?” he asked me.
“Because I really love this one,” I said. The Singer sewing machine I was using had been my mother’s. Her arthritis kept her from doing much sewing these days, and so she had given it to me. The machine was ancient and couldn’t do anything fancy, but it was great for basic sewing and I couldn’t bear to part with it.
“You could get a nice new one to use for most of your sewing, but still hang on to this one for the memories,” he pointed out.
I cut the threads and then opened the bobbin compartment to extract the tangled threads from the machine. “If this keeps up, I might take you up on that offer.”
“So, Suellen is really having another baby,” he said and headed to his overstuffed chair and sat down.
I nodded. “She is. That last one was the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen,” I said. “You have to admit, she makes cute babies.”
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