Toni L.P. Kelner - Laura Fleming 06 - Death of a Damn Yankee

by Toni L. P. Kelner

  The gas fumes kept getting stronger, and Max’s movements were getting more and more frenzied. I leaned up against Richard as much as the ropes would allow, and closed my eyes, wishing I was somewhere else. Then I heard tires screeching, and opened my eyes to see blue-and-red lights flashing through the curtains. There were shouts, and a moment later, gunshots.

  Floyd was right. The sound of gunshots carries awfully well at night.

  Chapter 36

  Max’s eyes were wide with shock, but I just felt relieved. A minute later we heard water swooshing over the front of the house, and then the door was kicked open. Willis burst in, and asked, “You okay?”

  “Just fine, little brother,” Augustus said.

  “You cut it pretty fine there, didn’t you?” Thaddeous pointed out.

  Willis moved aside as Junior Norton came in.

  “Hey there, Laurie Anne,” Junior said. “It looks like you’ve had some trouble here.”

  “Not as much as we would have had if you hadn’t shown up.”

  “You knew the cops were out there?” Max sputtered.

  “I hoped they were,” I corrected him. We hadn’t trusted Max any more than he’d trusted us. “Willis didn’t go home when he left the mill. He was hiding, keeping an eye on his brothers. When y’all headed back here, he saw Floyd following y’all and knew something was wrong. So he called Junior. Isn’t that right, Willis?”

  Willis nodded, and pulled out a pocketknife to saw at Augustus’s ropes. Once that brother was free, he went to work on Thaddeous. Meanwhile, Junior got out her knife to take care of me and Richard, and then Max. As the five of us were massaging away the marks of the ropes, Tavis Montgomery came in.

  “I think we’ve washed most of the gasoline away,” he said, “but if I were you, I wouldn’t smoke any cigarettes around here for a while. Floyd was mighty thorough, and he was about to light a book of matches when we got here. Another five minutes and this place would have been gone.”

  I shivered, which was ironic, considering what could have happened. “Where is he now?” I asked.

  “Outside,” was all Junior said, but I saw the look on her face, so I wasn’t surprised to see somebody zipping up a body bag as we left the house. Floyd had said it was his life he was talking about, and it had turned out to be true.

  “You folks feel up to telling me what went on tonight?” Junior said. Though she’d phrased it politely, we knew it wasn’t really a question. She split us up so she and her deputies could question us separately, saving me for last. I didn’t mind waiting because it gave me time to figure out how much I wanted to tell her. Not that I intended to lie, but I didn’t intend to tell her everything, either. The downside was wondering what tales everybody else had told. I knew I didn’t have to worry about Richard or my cousins, but Max was a wild card.

  When Junior came to get me, she handed me a Coke and said, “All right, Laurie Anne, let’s hear it.”

  It was tricky, but I managed to explain what I’d done to trap Floyd without mentioning Burt Walters. I told her that copying the files from Marshall’s hard disk had been my own idea, which was true enough—though Burt had obviously had the same idea, he’d never said so explicitly.

  I had to leave out what I’d found out about Max, since it was Burt who’d given me his file, which meant I couldn’t say that I’d blackmailed him into helping us. Instead I implied that he’d volunteered to help us once we told him that it would have been too dangerous for any of the Burnettes to confront Floyd directly. Junior looked skeptical, but since she didn’t question it, my story must have matched Max’s.

  “Did you suspect Floyd all along?” Junior asked once I’d finished.

  “No, all I knew was that it had to be somebody in the inspection room or who had easy access to it. This just seemed to be the quickest way of figuring out who.”

  “I probably could have done it another way, if you’d told me about it.”

  “I didn’t think you’d believe me, considering how our last conversation ended.”

  “You’ve got a point there,” she conceded. “I wasn’t a hundred percent sure Linwood had killed Marshall, but it did seem likely. Floyd does fit the arsonist profile, but not nearly as closely as Linwood does. I’ve never known anybody else to act so much like a firebug as he does.”

  “I know. You were right the other day—if Linwood weren’t my cousin, I’d have thought it was him, too.” I didn’t enjoy admitting that, but I owed her that much.

  Junior shook her head ruefully. “I wish I had listened to you. That way, Floyd might still be alive.”

  “I doubt it, Junior. From the way he talked tonight, I don’t think he’d have given himself up no matter what.” Maybe I should have felt bad about the man being dead, but it was mighty hard to feel sympathy for somebody who’d tried to burn me and Richard to death twice, not to mention Augustus and Thaddeous. And he had killed Marshall Saunders.

  “I guess that’s it, then. Of course, y’all will have to come down to the station sometime and sign statements, but that should cover it. And I’m afraid you’re going to have to find somebody else to help you next time around—your friend Wilder says he’s leaving town.”

  “Is that right?” I said. “I guess he wouldn’t be too happy living here after what happened tonight.”

  “Yeah,” Junior said dryly, “that must be the reason. So, do you suppose any of this hullabaloo will have any effect on the mill buyout?”

  “Who knows?” I said, trying to sound innocent. Then I saw a familiar white Cadillac drive up. “Isn’t that Burt Walters’s car? Maybe he can tell you.”

  “Knowing Burt, he’ll be more interested in asking than in telling,” she grumbled.

  I left her to him, and went to find Richard. He was being enthusiastically interviewed by Hank Parker, who was pleased to be getting the story in plenty of time for Sunday’s paper. I added a few quotes and we posed for pictures, then Hank went looking for Max, saying he hadn’t got a shot of him yet. I didn’t think he’d have much luck. I had a hunch Max wouldn’t want his picture in the paper.

  “Did you call Burt?” I asked Richard.

  “You bet. I borrowed Hank’s cell phone.”

  “He didn’t hear who you were calling, did he?”

  “You wound me,” he said. “I got Thaddeous and Augustus to distract him by demonstrating how they’d been tied up.”

  “Aunt Nora is going to love seeing that in the paper.”

  “I called her, too, and I expect her to arrive any minute.”

  In fact, a fair number of Burnettes arrived over the next few minutes, all of them wanting to make sure we were all right. Then there were discussions about Floyd Cabiniss, ranging from, “I’d never have thought he could do such a thing,” to, “I never did like Floyd—just didn’t trust him.”

  Aunt Edna cried so hard after she hugged Richard and me that Aunt Daphine had to drive her back home. Most of the Burnettes thought her concern for us was awfully sweet, but I think Aunt Maggie knew there was more to it than that. She actually gave us both a peck on the cheek and said we’d done good.

  Finally things calmed down enough that we were about ready to leave, but then Burt Walters came up to us.

  “Here are our heroes now,” he said loudly. “I’ve just got to hear the whole story from the horse’s mouth. Why don’t I give you two a ride home?”

  I looked at Richard, who shrugged. We’d ridden with Thaddeous, and since Aunt Maggie had already left, somebody was going to have to drop us off anyway. If Burt was willing to take the chance of blowing our cover after all this, it was his call.

  “That would be real nice,” I said, and he grandly escorted us to his car.

  Burt kept smiling as we drove away, but once the doors were shut, he said, “What happened?”

  “Didn’t Junior tell you about Floyd Cabiniss?” I said.

  “Of course, and I’m glad Marshall’s murderer is out of the way, and I’m shocked to hear about Floyd’s pilf
ering, but y’all know that’s not my main concern right now. What about the buyout?”

  “We were right,” I said smugly. “Max Wilder was working with the Saunders. Or at least with Grace.”

  “Can you prove it?”

  In answer, I pulled out Max’s signed confession. He couldn’t read it all the way through while driving, but he saw enough.

  “Damn!” he said happily. “If this doesn’t do it, nothing will.”

  “We did have to make some concessions to get this,” I warned him. “You can’t take any action against Wilder—he gets to leave town and never hear anything else about this.”

  “Wilder is the least of my worries. That paper doesn’t say anything about his faking his way into the mill, does it?”

  “Not a word. So your father doesn’t have to know about that—just that he was working secretly for the Saunders.”

  “Then the mill still belongs to me!”

  “Don’t forget your end of the deal,” Richard said. He was talking about our “payment” for the job. Concern for family jobs had been part of what motivated us to come down, but the other part was wanting to help Thaddeous and Michelle. We’d made Burt promise that if we did what we wanted him to, then he’d give Michelle a job commensurate with her experience and pay her a decent salary.

  “Don’t worry!” Burt said. “Your friend can have her pick of jobs—anything that’s available and almost anything that’s not. I’ll create a job for her if I have to.”

  “Wonderful,” I said. Michelle and Thaddeous would be ecstatic. At least, they would be as long the mill was still around. The question was, how long would that be? Grace and Max may have aggravated the problems there, but they didn’t cause them.

  “You must be gratified to know the problems at the mill weren’t your fault after all,” I said carefully. “Max Wilder was causing the equipment failures, and Floyd Cabiniss was making productivity look worse than it really was.”

  “That’s right,” Burt said, sounding far too pleased with himself.

  “It’s just a shame there weren’t any procedures in place to track the situation sooner.”

  Burt looked over at me. “Laurie Anne, I may not be the brightest bulb on the chandelier, but I know there are problems at the mill, and that I still have my work cut out for me to keep Daddy from selling the place out from under me.”

  “Of course, now you’ve got the benefit of knowing what Marshall and Grace Saunders had planned. You did say they had some good ideas, didn’t you?”

  He didn’t answer, and I didn’t need Richard nudging me from the backseat to know that I’d said as much as I dared. Burt was a Walters, after all, and the Walters didn’t accept advice gladly. All I could do was cross my fingers that he’d take the next step on his own. Finally, just as we pulled into Aunt Maggie’s driveway, Burt said, “Do you still have those files you copied from Marshall’s computer?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Would you mind copying them for me? I’d like to take another look at those plans the Saunders came up with.”

  “I’ll get them to you before we leave town.”

  “I’d appreciate that.” He actually got out of the car to open my door, shook both our hands, and thanked us.

  As we watched him drive away, I said, “I think there’s hope for him after all.”

  Chapter 37

  Richard and I had hoped to sleep late the next morning in triumph, but it didn’t happen. Not only did the phone keep ringing, but at eight o’clock, family members started showing up to continue repairing the house. By ten-thirty, most of my relatives were hard at work, while Aunt Maggie stayed busy making sure everything was done to her liking.

  Somebody had gotten the power turned back on and, after indulgently long, hot showers, Richard and I joined the repair crew. At least, Richard did. As for me, I’m better with a keyboard than with a hammer, so the best I could do was fetch tools, deliver drinks, and answer endless questions about the previous night.

  I was taking lunch orders for a run to Pigwick’s when Alton Brown called to tell us that he’d heard that the mill buyout was off, and that Grace Saunders was leaving town immediately. The official story was that finding out that a mill employee had killed her husband had soured Grace on the deal. The unofficial version was that Big Bill had gotten something on the Saunders, but specifics were sketchy. That’s when Alton paused, no doubt hoping I’d fill him in. Instead I asked him how he’d done in the betting, but his only answer was a pleased chuckle. I made a mental note to tell Earl that if he’d been wanting to ask his father for any expensive gifts, now would be a good time to do it.

  After I hung up, I called Burt for more details. I didn’t know if he’d be able to talk or not, but as it turned out, he was so happy at the way things had worked out that he didn’t bother to suggest calling me from a pay phone or meeting at midnight under an old oak tree. He didn’t even whisper.

  Burt had given Big Bill the information about Max’s sabotage right away, and Big Bill had confronted Grace with it over breakfast. Not surprisingly, she hadn’t folded all at once. First she tried to deny it, but Big Bill didn’t buy that for a second. Then she suggested that Max had done it on his own, as a favor to her because he was her cousin. That explained how Grace had known him, something I’d wondered about. Businesswomen, even unscrupulous ones, didn’t usually have con men in their Rolodexes. It turned out that Max was from Massachusetts, too, meaning that his Georgia accent was as phony as everything else about him. At any rate, when Big Bill wouldn’t swallow any of her excuses, Grace gave up and Big Bill ordered her out of his house.

  Just for a minute, I felt sorry for her. She’d come so close to succeeding. Even though she was dishonest, some of her ideas really had been good. If she hadn’t stooped to sabotage, Big Bill probably would have sold the mill to her, but it was like Aunt Maggie had said—Grace had wanted it too much.

  I asked Burt how Big Bill was taking it, he said Big Bill’s chagrin at having been fooled by Grace was balanced out by his relief at having found out in time. It didn’t hurt that nothing had been made public. Big Bill hated being wrong, but he hated people knowing he was wrong even more. As it was, he was mighty impressed that Burt had saved him embarrassment, and though he wouldn’t swear not to try to sell the mill later, he did seem more willing to let Burt have another chance to bring things up to speed.

  After Burt thanked me again and I hung up, I went to spread the news. I was a little leery at first, considering how divisive the buyout had been, but I knew people would find out soon enough anyway. As it turned out, once folks heard the unofficial version of why Grace was gone, they agreed it was for the best. I think the general feeling was that if they were going to be stuck with owners who were less than honest, it might as well be the Walters.

  When I got back with lunch, I found out that Aunt Nora had decided to throw a family party that night, and was already hard at work cooking. She claimed that she wanted to celebrate getting the home place put back together, but everybody knew that what she really wanted to celebrate was the family being back together. So later that afternoon, we all piled into cars and headed for Aunt Nora’s place. We got a nice surprise when we got there, too. There’d been a mix-up with the Ramblers’ schedule, so Aunt Ruby Lee and her crew were back in town for the weekend. Aunt Nora was so happy to see us all in one place again that she was teary-eyed all through dinner.

  We were starting in on Aunt Daphine’s apple pie when Vasti said, “I don’t know about the rest of y’all, but I’d like to hear more about what went on last night.”

  “Are you serious?” Augustus said. “We haven’t talked about anything but what happened last night!”

  Everybody laughed, but Vasti said, “Oh, I know about the trap you set for Floyd and all that, but what I don’t know is why.”

  “Why what?” I asked. “Why did I suspect somebody at the mill?”

  “No, I mean that Marshall Saunders wasn’t killed until after you
and Richard got to town, and y’all were up to something before then. So why did y’all come home in the first place?”

  “Good Lord, Vasti,” Aunt Maggie said, “don’t you trust your own cousin?”

  I appreciated the defense, especially when Aunt Maggie had been more than a little distrustful herself a few days back.

  But Vasti persisted. “Now, Aunt Maggie, I know you didn’t want anybody bothering Laurie Anne and Richard while they were doing their investigating, but now that it’s all over, I want to know. Was it the fires that got y’all suspicious?”

  I didn’t dare look at Aunt Edna when Vasti asked that.

  “Vasti, why don’t you leave Laurie Anne alone?” Aunt Maggie said.

  “It’s all right, Aunt Maggie,” I said. “I don’t blame her for being curious. I imagine y’all are all curious. It’s just kind of complicated.” Under the table, Richard reached for my hand and squeezed it. “The truth is, we came down because of the buyout. We were hired to see what we could find out about the Saunders.”

  “Hired? By who?” Vasti asked.

  “I can’t tell you. It was somebody who didn’t trust them, who wanted us to find out something bad about them to stop the buyout.”

  “Then you were against it all along?” Thaddeous asked.

  “No, but I was concerned. An awful lot of us Burnettes depend on the mill. So Richard and I decided to come down and see if there was anything to worry about. I’d have been just as happy if the Saunders had turned out to be honest, but if they weren’t… Well, I wanted to know that, too. When Marshall was murdered, we thought it had to be connected somehow, and we started trying to find out who killed him.” I went into more detail about what we’d done, leaving out only what I had to in order to keep the secrets I’d promised to keep. Then I waited to see if anybody was going to blast me for interfering, or for sticking my nose in where it wasn’t wanted.

  I was more relieved than I could say when Vasti said, “I figured it was something like that.” As she and everybody else went back to eating their apple pie, she muttered, “I bet that Grace Saunders probably didn’t know anything about running a debutante ball anyway.”