Chicken Culprit

by Vikki Walton

  “How convenient for Jeff,” Anne whispered under her breath.

  “I see you’re not part of the Jeff fan club.” Hope snickered.

  Anne’s face heated up. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud.”

  “You don’t have to apologize to me. Not a fan of the guy. In fact, he gives me the creeps. I’ve often thought Jeff may have had something to do with Kandi’s grandfather’s accident.” She took another sip of tea.

  Anne thought back to the figure she’d seen. Could it have been Jeff? But why kill Ralph?

  “Sorry,” Anne said. “Please continue with your story.” Hope nodded. “Turns out Kandi’s mom had stage four cancer. She wanted to make it right with the kids before she died. The boys are off backpacking the world, but she finds Kandi. She wants to make amends and spend the last bit of time she has left with her kids. But Kandi doesn’t want anything to do with her. Jeff tries to get her to listen. She refuses. Kandi tells her mother to get out and never come back.”

  Hope cocked her head. “What was her name? Can’t remember now. So the mom ended up dying a few months later. She left the three kids huge trust funds. Next year when Kandi turns twenty-five, she’ll have full access to hers.”

  “What are we talking moneywise?” “From what I’ve heard, millions.”

  “Millions?” Anne set her cup down on the table. “That’s a lot of motive—I mean money.”

  “Yes. Jeff lucked out by marrying a very-soon-to-be wealthy woman.” She looked pointedly at Anne.

  “Yes. How lucky for him.” An idea occurred to Anne. “So what happens if Kandi is convicted of Ralph’s murder?”

  “I guess it would stay in trust. I know Kandi told me that Jeff has power of attorney over it should anything happen to her. But who knows? Not sure what happens if she were to be convicted of Ralph’s murder.” Her mouth tightened. “I’d hate to see that man get one penny.”

  “Interesting. So when did Jeff and Kandi marry?” “Let’s see. I think it was just after the visit from Kandi’s mom. I believe they eloped. No one can say for sure but I’m fairly certain that Jeff talked with Kandi’s mother. He can put on the charm when he needs it. So he knew Kandi would be coming into money.”

  Anne looked down at the dregs of tea leaves in her cup. If only they could give her the insight to see into the future. One thing she did know. Jeff wasn’t a nice man, and she would bet her last dollar that he married Kandi to get to the millions in her trust fund. But would he go as far as murder?

  Could Jeff have said he was out of town, flown into the city, and driven in that night? He could have killed Ralph, thrown the axe in the bushes of their home, and headed back to his conference. He could simply say he’d been asleep all night. The next day he could act like he’d been at the conference all morning. Then he could have flown back out to be at Kandi’s side and play the role of doting husband. Unfortunately, he’d failed that part big time.

  Kandi did need help, but maybe her enemy was closer than either of them had considered. She needed to get with Kandi and figure out the situation with Jeff.

  “Well, I’ll let you get back to work. Thanks for the tea and the information. By the way, it’s none of my business but I happened to notice Kandi’s tattoo.”

  “Oh yes—Past —right?” Anne nodded.

  Hope stood up. “Well, as you can imagine, the strain of her mother leaving and then dying with no reconciliation along with losing her grandfather took its toll. I recommended Kandi seek out some therapy. She did and when she completed it, she got the tattoo. She says it reminds her that the past is behind her. Now she can look forward.” She shook her head. “I hope for Kandi’s sake they can figure out what really happened.”

  “Me too. She’s such a sweet girl.” Anne grabbed the tweed jacket off the chair. “This weather is sure nippy in the mornings and evenings now.”

  “Yes, it’s that time of the year when you really need to layer all the time because you just don’t know what to expect weather-wise. As we always say in Colorado, wait five minutes if you don’t like the current weather.”

  Anne crossed the room. As she reached the door, she turned. “Just one more thing. You said something about you killing Ralph?”

  Hope laughed. “That’s another story for another time. But I certainly wouldn’t have killed him with an axe. I’d have poisoned him.”

  Chapter Seven

  Anne waved goodbye to Hope, who had risen from her perch, and then exited the office.

  Reminder to self, no more tea with Hope. She chuckled. She heard the back door open and rounded the corner to encounter Eliza headed down the hallway. Seeing Anne, the woman stopped abruptly. Her eyes widened. She must be trying to remember where she knows me. Anne smiled. “Hello. Good to see you again.”

  “Again?” Distress marred Eliza’s face for a split second. “You know. Someone had hit your bumper.”

  “Oh yes, quite. I apologize for my manners that day. I was in such a state over someone doing such a horrible thing.” She hesitated. “But I guess we never fully understand what a person is going through at that moment. Do we?”

  “True. They probably didn’t even realize they had hit your car.”

  “Exactly.” Tension seemed to leave her as she spoke. “However, I do know who it is, um, was.”

  “Oh that’s good. You can get their insurance to pay for the damage.”

  “I don’t think so.” Eliza removed one of her purple kid gloves.

  “Why not?”

  “It was Ralph Rogers.”

  Anne gulped. This town really was interconnected. “Here’s the valerian tincture.” Hope’s voice carried as she appeared around the corner. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t know you were still here, Anne.”

  “Just leaving. Thanks again for the tea and the conversation.” She exited the back door and walked home on a recently discovered shortcut that cut off quite a bit of time if she wanted to walk to town. Anne’s thoughts swirled along with the leaves dancing in the wind.

  Could Hope be the murderer? If she’d killed Ralph, why do it now? What could be the motive? Technically, she could have used an untraceable poison to disable him and then killed him with the axe. No, it made no sense. From all accounts it didn’t seem like a planned attack.

  Anne sighed deeply. She puffed out her cheeks as she exhaled her frustration. How do fictional detectives figure it out? They don’t have all the evidence either. Just as I think I’ve got it narrowed down, another person with a motive pops up. Why did I promise to help Kandi?

  “First things first. We need to make a list of suspects.” Kandi pushed the button on her coffeemaker. The young woman looked better after a few nights of sleep in her own bed.

  “That’s great, Kandi, but please remember I’m new here. I only know a small group in town so my suspect list is pretty small.” Wood crackled in the fireplace from a recently started fire. Two cozy rockers stationed in front of the hearth beckoned. Lights glowed from table lamps making the room warm and comforting. Anne shrugged out of her jacket, hanging it on a nearby empty coat tree. “But that’s how you will help!” She came over and hugged Anne before returning to her tasks. “I can’t imagine anyone in this town killing Ralph. Since you’re new, you will see people in a different light. You know,

  spot the bad guy.”

  Yes, but you probably wouldn’t want me telling you he’s your husband. Anne took a moment to warm her hands in front of the fire.

  “I knew we could use help, so I called on some people to contribute to our suspect list.”

  “Knock, knock.” Eliza’s voice came from the front.

  Kandi clapped her hands. “And here they come, right on time.” She yelled out, “Come on back. We’re in the kitchen.”

  Eliza entered. Anne knew she was staring but couldn’t look away. The woman moved like a black panther, sleek and beautiful, mesmerizing with her grace and splendor. In a sea of white faces, this woman was like an exotic foreign creature that had accident
ly found its way into a barnyard.

  But panthers are also very deadly. Could she have killed Ralph? What would have been her motive? Did she snap over Ralph hitting her car? She definitely seems uptight about something.

  Eliza finally noticed Anne’s stare. She smiled. Her perfect white teeth stood out against the coffee skin and ruby-red lips. “I didn’t realize you would be here as well.” Eliza removed her cashmere coat and neatly folded it over a side chair. On top of the coat, she carefully placed her fur-trimmed hat. Then she proceeded to take off her cream suede gloves. Unlike most people removing gloves, Eliza delicately pulled one fingertip at a time until the glove lay loose on her fingers. After removing them, she placed the gloves into a pocket inside her stylish Birkin handbag. Eliza now sported a vibrant purple nail polish. “Kandi asked me to participate. Though not sure what I’ll be able to do other than offer moral support.” “Sometimes the support of another is the only way that we are able to survive in this cruel world.” Sadness moved across Eliza’s face, though she tried to hide it under a false smile. Before she sat down, Eliza reached into her purse and brought out a canvas bag. “Kandi dear, may I use your bathroom? I need to prepare my hands.”

  “Just go ahead. I don’t think you have to go to the bathroom just to put on lotion.”

  “Here?”

  “Sure, go ahead.” Kandi continued assembling glasses next to a pitcher of lemonade.

  From the bag she carried, Eliza pulled out a piece of felt, wooden toaster tongs, a set of white cotton gloves, and some fleece. Finally, she retrieved what looked like an expensive jar of face cream. Anne watched intently as Eliza liberally laced one of her hands with the creamy mixture. Then with the help of the tongs, she slowly slid the glove over it. When both hands were gloved, she wiped the jar with the fleece and put everything into the little bag. From there she placed it in her purse.

  Whatever Eliza does, she is rolling in the bucks. That purse is easily $25,000 or more.

  As if on cue, Kandi joined them at the table. “I don’t know if you know this, but, like, Eliza is a model. Her hands are, like, in all types of magazines. Cool, right? Next time you see an advertisement with a celebrity in a magazine, check out her hands. They’re probably Eliza’s.” “I expect that’s very exciting.” Explains the weird hand and glove thing, as well as where the money comes from.

  “Not as much as you would think.” Eliza placed her hands in her lap. “Quite a few people in the industry are not very nice. It really is all an act for them.”

  Anne chimed in. “Don’t I know it. People can appear one way in public but be entirely different in private.”

  Eliza closed her eyes and took a breath. “Please forgive me. I have started us down a rutted path. However, this is no excuse for my statement.”

  Kandi broke the tense moment with a laugh. “Seriously? You know what they say—every time you, like, point one finger at someone else, you point three others back at yourself. I, for one, can’t judge anybody. I’m too busy keeping up with my own faults without looking for them in others!” She gave a light squeeze on Eliza’s shoulder as she returned to the counter. “Now, would you like a cup of coffee? Just brewed it.”

  “Thank you for asking, sweet Kandi. Might you have anything without caffeine?”

  Anne noticed the forced smile. Once Eliza sat down, light from a nearby table revealed that even skillful makeup application couldn’t hide bloodshot eyes, dark circles, and puffiness. Eliza was definitely struggling with something.

  Kandi raised the coffee carafe with a questioning look and Anne nodded yes to the hot brew. She turned her attention back to Eliza. “Are you not feeling well?”

  “I am not sleeping as well as I would like.” A deep sigh escaped her lips. “This is why I went to see Hope.”

  Anne touched the woman’s arm. “Please, if you need anything, don’t hesitate. Us ‘girls’ need each other.”

  “That is very thoughtful. Thank you for your generous offer.”

  Anne patted her arm. Then reaching out, she grabbed a legal pad Kandi had placed on the table. “Okay, are we ready to get—”

  “We’re here!” Hope and her mother, Faith, had come in while they’d been talking. “Sorry we’re late. I had an appointment that went a bit longer than expected.” She guided her mother across the large room.

  Hope retrieved a muslin packet from her pocket. Taking a pinch of the herbs from the bag, she placed them in a tea ball Kandi provided. When Hope spied Anne watching, she said, “For clarity.” She put the tea in to a cup of water.

  Faith hadn’t spoken. The elderly woman now stared off into space. Did her mother have dementia? What a heavy burden on Hope.

  “I brought enough herbs in case any of you would like some herbal tea as well. I expect we could definitely use some clarity as we begin.” Hope held up the packet in her hand.

  “Sounds good to me.” Kandi plopped down on the edge of the chair opposite Faith.

  Eliza replied, “Yes, please do.”

  As Hope prepared tea, Anne spoke, “Kandi, I’ve been meaning to tell you. This is such a cozy room. I love it.”

  Kandi smiled as she glanced around contentedly. “I’ve always wanted a gathering place, and I’m always drawn to the kitchen. After my grandfather passed on, the house became mine. I guess Pops knew how much this old place meant to me. Anyway, I begged Jeff to tear down the wall between the old kitchen and the dining room. In the process, we uncovered the old fireplace. Luckily, it was still usable. So we had it updated, and now this room has become, like, my favorite place.” She began to tear up. “But all this could be taken away from me if I have to, like, go to trial, and they convict me of Ralph’s murder.”

  The old woman leaned forward and took Kandi’s hands in hers. Faith looked at Kandi through glazed eyes. Eliza squirmed in her seat. Hope stopped pouring water into the teapot. She went over to Kandi and embraced her. “We’re not going to let that happen, not if we can help it.” She turned to everyone. “Right?” They all responded in unison and nodded in agreement.

  Kandi sniffled. “Thanks everyone. Now, where should we start?” She joined them at the table. A bang of the screen door didn’t allow for any answer.

  “Hey, Kandi, I just came by to—” Stewart entered the room. “What’s going on here?”

  “They’re going to help me figure out who really killed Ralph.”

  “Well, is that so? Then I’m staying. I want to hear what you all think.” He grabbed a chair from the table, flipped it backward, and sat down, his arms hanging over the wooden spindles.

  “I suppose, like, that’s all right. The more help, the better for me.”

  “Kandi!” Jeff’s voice bellowed down from upstairs. Feet pounded down the flight of steps. “Kandi! I told you—” He entered the kitchen carrying a pair of pants. He still wore his dress shirt and tie but these stood in opposition to his gray sweatpants.

  Spotting the group, his tone turned sickly sweet. “Honey, can I speak with you for a moment?” He motioned for her to join him. As the couple left the kitchen, Anne moved closer to the passage. When had she gotten so protective of this girl? Oblivious to her, the others chatted with one another while Faith made tea.

  Jeff’s voice, though low, was still audible. “I thought I asked you not to park in the garage. Look.” Anne heard the rustle of fabric. “I stepped in that puddle out there. It stained my pants. It messed up my shoes too.”

  “Sorry, Jeff. I figured since you’re gone so much—”

  Anne moved quickly as Jeff marched back through the kitchen and up the back stairs. He didn’t stop or acknowledge the group. Kandi returned, carrying the muddied pants. She made a joke about the situation before putting the slacks into a bag. But no quip could take away the flush on the young woman’s cheeks.

  “Shall we get started?” Hope interjected, ignoring the scene they had just witnessed. She pulled a pad of multicolored sticky notes from her purse.

  Anne realized that her entire l
ist of suspects was in front of her. Is the murderer here? What about Jeff? I almost hope he’s the killer, so they lock him up and throw away the key.

  Anne listened as the group spouted names of possible suspects. The list grew long. “Seems like Ralph had more enemies than friends.”

  “Hey! That’s my uncle you’re talking about.” Stewart half rose from his chair.

  “Oh, stop it. You didn’t like him that much either.” Hope balled up a sticky note and threw it at him. “In fact, you’re probably the killer.”

  “Funny, ha-ha. If you weren’t a relative …” He grinned at Hope.

  “Well,” Anne said quietly, “you do have a motive.” He turned to her. “Are you serious?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. Are you nuts? Why did you just say that? Don’t you remember how he threatened you about coming to harm?

  Hope jumped into the conversation. “She’s right. Any of us in this room could have done it.”

  Anne fidgeted. Please, oh, please, let it not be Hope. I’d rather not die from drinking a poisoned tea.

  “Really? Says who?” Stewart snapped.

  Hope pulled off a yellow notepaper. She wrote boldly in black: STEWART. “I think this may help us. For grins, let’s start with us. We’ll use the yellow post-it for the names, the orange for the motive, the green one for alibi, and so on. What do you all think?”

  “Okay. I’m game. Hold on.” Kandi jumped up from her seat and left the room. With her exit, an uncomfortable silence enveloped the group. She returned lugging a large picture frame with a whiteboard in the middle. Stewart hopped up and grabbed the frame from Kandi.

  “Let me get that for you.” He smiled down at Kandi. “First, Stewart.” Hope posted the yellow paper to the frame. “So where were you from eight that evening until around six the next morning?”