Best Enemies (A Triple Trouble Mystery)

by Lynn Emery

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “But existing employees might know who their bosses use for security and background checks,” Detective Miller countered. His dark brows drew down as if unhappy that amateurs were trying to play cop.

  “Good point,” Kay said as she aimed her ink pen at him. “I’ll pull that list together right away.” The phone in the outer office rang and she left like a woman on a mission.

  Detective Miller watched her leave then turned back to Willa once the office door bumped shut. “By the sound of that ringing phone it might take her a few minutes. I can ask some other questions while we wait.”

  “Sure. Let me get you some coffee.” Willa went to the credenza along the east wall of the office. A coffee pot with fresh Louisiana dark roast sat on a tray. She looked at him over her shoulder. “How do you like it?”

  His staid expression relaxed. “Cream, no sugar. You seem to have settled in around here.”

  “No choice. Of course Jack’s parents aren’t too thrilled about it. But then I’m sure you know they don’t like me,” Willa said as she handed him the cup of coffee. She knew Miller had already talked to her former in-laws. A good bet that Miller got an earful of “Miss Bea’s” ideas about Willa’s shortcomings, aka motives.

  “I gathered.” Miller nodded his thanks for the coffee as he accepted it.

  “As far as Miss Bea was concerned Jack hung the moon and stars. He was perfect in every way. But then mothers tend to have a blind spot when it comes to their sons.” Willa felt a sharp pain in her gut at the thought of her child. At fifteen Anthony was trying to be tough, trying to take are of her. She bit her lower lip to keep it from quivering.

  “Your son was close to his father?” Detective Miller had an eye for details as well. His smooth segue also showed he was good at following them.

  “Step-father technically, but Jack and I had been together for two years before we got married. Anthony was just five when Jack and I met. But yes, they were close. Except for the last two years.” Willa inhaled deeply and let out a slow breath. “Kids always know what’s going on. Not that our fights didn’t get loud toward the end.”

  “Anthony took sides, your side specifically,” Detective Miller said.

  “Mrs. Crown told you that I suppose,” Willa replied with heat.

  Miller’s impassive expression confirmed her guess. “Several family members mentioned some conflict between the two.”

  “I didn’t want him to, but yes. Anyway, Anthony still loved Jack deeply. I’m sure of that. Jack was working hard to reach out to him.” Willa marshaled her defenses so she wouldn’t cry. “They were talking.”

  “So Anthony was home the night Mr. Crown died?”

  “At a friend’s house. He and Greg are on the soccer team and...” Willa blinked back from her inward musings. She looked up to find Detective Miller gazing at her intently. He’d put the cup of coffee down and his pen was poised above a little note pad.

  “And?” Detective Miller prompted.

  “And he loved Jack. They were as close as a biological father and son,” Willa said through clenched teeth.

  “Anthony has had some problems with anger. There was an incident where he actually punched Mr. Crown.” Detective Miller spoke in a steady yet relentless monotone.

  “My son would never, never kill anyone. Certainly not the only man he ever regarded as his father.” Willa struggled to calm her own anger. She knew Detective Miller was looking for a reaction along with information that might become a lead. After a silent count to ten Willa lifted her chin. “Call Greg and his family to confirm where my son was that night, all night.”

  “This is routine. He’s not a suspect.” Detective Miller’s tone suggested the “yet” was unspoken.

  Willa picked up an ink pen on her desk. She wrote down the phone number, address and names of Greg’s parents. The strokes were so firm the notepaper had indentations. “Stephanie and Robert Bellmont will be happy to speak with you, as would Greg. We have nothing to hide.”

  “Thank you. These questions are routine and need to be asked especially under the circumstances.” Detective Miller lifted his dark eyebrows. “The sooner we cover all bases with family and friends the faster we can proceed down all other avenues.”

  “Hmmm,” was all Willa could trust herself to say. Having the detective check her alibi that night hadn’t caused even a twitch when he’d questioned her three days ago. Her protective instincts kicked into overdrive when it came to her child.

  He took the lined note pad sheet Willa thrust out toward him. “I appreciate your not getting overly emotional about my questions. As I said—”

  “Yes, routine,” Willa cut him off. She just wanted him to leave, now. “Do you need to know where my baby girl Mikayla was that night?”

  Detective Miller smiled. “Your little girl was with your mother, ma’am. We talked to Mrs. Wilson when we— ”

  “Checked my alibi of being at Mama Ruby’s house for supper later that night,” Willa finished for him, though the detective had never used that loaded term “alibi.” He kept referring to placing everyone’s movements around the critical time.

  Detective Miller rose to leave. He extended a hand. Willa barely touched the smooth brown skin before letting go. His unruffled expression indicated that he was used to hostility. The antipathy radiating from Willa bounced right off his broad shoulders covered in crisp blue cotton.

  “Yes, ma’am. I appreciate your time and patience. I’ll be in touch. Call me if you think of any information that could be helpful,” he said, pointedly not offering to keep Willa informed.

  “I most certainly will be in touch,” she replied.

  He nodded at her then smoothed down the front of his shirt. “Have a good day, ma’am,” he said the left.

  Willa rolled her neck to ease the muscle tension Detective Miller had inspired. She knew her former in-laws still had connections despite the elder Crown’s past mistakes. Detective Miller would no doubt keep Mr. and Mrs. Crown informed. In the meantime Willa worried about Anthony. She only hoped that he had indeed stayed with his friend this time. Before she could continue down that bothersome path of Anthony’s troubling teenage defiance Kay appeared at her door again.

  “Is everything okay?” Kay glanced around as though the office furnishings would give her a clue.

  “Yeah,” Willa stretched her lips into a smile.

  “I gave Detective Miller a printout of the recent checks we’ve done for employers. Here is a copy.” Kay came to the desk and placed sheets stapled together at one end on Willa’s desk.

  “Wow, that many.” Willa leafed through six pages of neatly typed names with employers and contact information.

  “Cedric kept working our same client list. I mean, you’ve had a lot to handle since… it happened,” Kay offered. “Cedric decided we should just keep doing our jobs like normal, if we could.”

  “Right. Right.”

  Willa no longer saw the pages before her. Instead she had an image of Anthony filled with rage the day he’d struck out at Jack. They’d been at a family picnic. Everyone could feel the strain between her and Jack, but as usual her family worked around it. However when Jack made a sarcastic comment about Willa’s wide hips she snapped something back at him. Jack patted Willa’s butt and she knocked his hand away. Out of nowhere Anthony appeared shouting at Jack not to touch her again. Three of her cousins and two uncles had to wrestle Anthony to ground. Jack tried to appear untouched, yet Willa saw the pain in his eyes. The next day Jack had moved out for the last time. After twelve years, six affairs and numerous lies neither of them bothered with the usual kiss and make-up ritual. Anthony as a suspect. Willa fought off the budding panic that tried to get a grip on her gut.

  “Sure you’re all right? Maybe you can leave the rest of this stuff for another day. I can organize everything.” Kay gazed at Willa with concern in her cinnamon brown eyes.

  “Fine. Uh, call Cedric and ask him to meet with me Wednesday at
10 AM. Please,” Willa added when she realized Kay was eyeing her dubiously. Take control, Willa said, mentally repeating the mantra her Aunt Ametrine favored.

  “Sure. I’ll also run over to the accountant’s office and pick up the paychecks for your signature. One more thing Mr. Crown took care of, instructions in his will. Lord, bless his soul,” Kay said quietly. She sniffed a couple of times as she went out the door.

  “Humph,” Willa retorted once Kay closed the door. She looked around the office feeling Jack’s aura in the baseball memorabilia and photos from his days of playing the game in college. “Jack Crown, if you want some kind of divine second chance to redeem yourself and avoid the fires of hell you’d better send me some kind of message about your murder now, because they’re questioning Anthony.”

  Silence. No rush of wind lifting up a page with a promising lead. No eerie whisper with a cryptic message containing a clue. Nothing. Willa picked up the phone to call Stephanie Bellmont and check Anthony’s alibi. As she tapped the keypad Willa silently prayed that Anthony had not picked that night to sneak off and get into trouble again.

  ***

  Ruby Wilson stood behind the waist high bar in her nightclub on Alligator Bayou. She wiped glasses, popped her gum and nodded her head to an old Bobby Blue Bland song blaring from the speakers above her head. At sixty years old she didn’t look a day over fifty, as her husband Elton loved to brag. Willa entered the cool dark room with a sigh of relief. She crossed the bare wood floor then sat down hard on a bar stool with a red cushioned seat.

  “Fix me the usual, Mama,” Willa said and slapped her purse down onto the scarred dark wood that topped the bar.

  Ruby reached behind her and turned down the volume on the sound system. “How you holdin’ up, baby?”

  “Other than dealing with my mean as a snake mother-in-law, a business I know nothing about and a cop who thinks Anthony is a suspect, I’m doing good.” Willa crossed her arms on the bar then rested her forehead on them.

  “What the hell? That child wouldn’t hurt a fly. Let me call my friend Judge Henderson. No, better yet I’ll call Deputy Devine.” Ruby already had the cordless phone to her ear.

  Willa stretched across the bar and snatched the phone out of Ruby’s hand. “Please. The last thing we need is a battle of the local politically connected Black families. That will only get our names in the newspaper. Again.”

  Ruby put her hands on both hips. “I hope you don’t think that’s the only phone I have, or that I’m gonna let them frame my grand-baby. Be damned if I will.”

  “You need to calm down.” Willa heaved a sigh. As usual Mama Ruby lost her temper when it came to her “babies”, no matter what their age. “You sit down and I’ll fix us something to drink.”

  “I don’t need no drink,” Ruby huffed. Still she sat down as ordered on a carved oak stool behind the bar.

  “We both need a drink.” Willa walked around to the bar and pushed through the small swinging door on hinges. She reached inside one of two mini refrigerators. As she expected there were two pitchers of iced tea.

  “It’s just two o’clock in the afternoon. Don’t be puttin’ no liquor in my tea either.” Ruby drummed her fingers on the bar. “Now tell me what idiot cop thinks Anthony would have killed Jack. He loved that man.”

  “He also hated that man.” Willa found a store of fresh mint leaves and added those to each glass of sweet tea. “No amaretto added. You watched me fix it.”

  “I wasn’t watchin’ you. I’m thinkin’ ‘bout my baby. And he didn’t hate Jack, he was just mad as hell at him for being a screw up and hurtin’ you.” Ruby frowned at the glass Willa put in front of her. Her nut brown face had few lines, which made her look younger than sixty-two by a good ten years.

  Willa took a long slow drink of the tea savoring the sweetness. The kick of strong mint added just the right flavor. Sugar always soothed her nerves. She sighed again, this time with satisfaction. “Listen, Detective Miller—”

  “Yeah, from up north? Now what does he know about us anyway? Just cause folks in Chicago— ”

  “Philadelphia,” Willa corrected.

  “Where ever. Just cause them people done lost their minds up there don’t mean Black folks down here killin’ their own daddies.” Ruby pointed a finger at Willa.

  “That logic perfectly sums up your bias, Mama Ruby.” Willa shook her head.

  “Humph, I lived up there back in the sixties. Most folks thinkin’ moving north was like goin’ to the promise land.” Ruby’s face took on the strained look talking about her time in Chicago.

  Ruby had been seventeen with a singing voice that rocked Sweet Home Missionary Baptist Church. In defiance of her parents she’d run off with a boyfriend to become the next big singing sensation. Seven years of hard times had knocked those dreams down. Mama Ruby still had never told Willa the details of what she’d gone through. Yet Willa knew some of the story from Aunt Ametrine, the family historian. Family gossip was a more accurate description.

  “Detective Miller is just doing what police officers do, look at the family and friends first. Most crimes are committed by someone close to the victim,” Willa said, repeating what she’d learned by watching police reality shows.

  “Girl, you have lost your mind! The man is tryin’ to pin a murder on your first born and you up in here defendin’ him,” her mother’s voice boomed.

  Used to Mama Ruby’s “bark worse than her bite” ways, Willa faced the anger head on. “Will you stop freaking out, please? I’m not defending him. Once I stopped trippin’ I realized his tactic. He wanted me to get upset and blurt out something revealing, a promising lead. Miller knows about that time Anthony punched Jack at the family picnic. You remember. The one where you invited Jack hoping to get us back together.”

  “And?” Mama Ruby ignored Willa’s dig at her failed attempts to help them reconcile.

  “What I should have done was keep cool and find out why they don’t think Jack was killed by a mugger.” Willa sipped more tea.

  “What the—” Ruby picked up her glass and sipped from it as well. She lowered the glass. “Yeah, you got a good point. This detective what’s-his-name—”

  “Miller,” Willa replied. She watched the wheels turning behind her mother’s black coffee eyes.

  “Right, Detective Miller would have questioned Anthony if he thought that the child really could have done it. Did he start out asking about Anthony or lead up to it?” Ruby glanced at Willa.

  “He led up to it.”

  “You’re right. He’s fishin’. Which makes me wonder. Jack had just been to one of those ATMs when he was shot. His wallet was gone.” Ruby blinked as she considered the few facts they knew.

  “Along with his 18k gold Rolo link bracelet and gold Kappa Alpha Psi ring,” Willa added and let out a loud hiss. “After everything that happened he was still wearing that damn bracelet.” A gift from his mistress and the links that led Willa to find out about the latest in a string of women he’d had.

  “Yeah, so somethin’ has Detective Miller goin’ down another road. We just need to find out what he’s found out.” Ruby nodded.

  “No.”

  “What?” Ruby arranged her cute features into a look of pure innocence. “As members of the family it’s only natural that we should have questions. After our terrible loss I mean.”

  “Do not make phone calls or start snooping around,” Willa said stabbing a finger in the air between them. “We’re going to stay cool, let the police do their jobs and take care of business.”

  “You’re right, baby. I’m just sayin’, if you get a chance call up Detective Miller and ask if there’s been any progress on the case.” Mama Ruby gave Willa a sweet maternal smile. She got up and went back to arranging glasses on the shelves behind the bar.

  “You gave in too quick,” Willa replied. She crossed her arms as she watched her mother. “So you’re promising me that you won’t use your connections or get mixed up in Jack’s murder investigation. Even
if they bring up Anthony’s name again.”

  Mama Ruby’s mouth twitch at the mention of her beloved Anthony was the only sign that she might be lying. Still she kept her voice steady. “Naturally that frightens me, but I won’t get all in a tizzy and make a move without talkin’ to you.”

  “Good.” Willa had to be satisfied with that much. Yet she knew Mama Ruby well enough to suspect she had a game plan in mind anyway.

  “What did this Detective Miller say about Anthony anyway?” Ruby kept her voice calm. She glanced at Willa sideways.

  “He wanted to know where Anthony was that night. I told him he was with his best friend Greg.”

  “And was he?” Mama Ruby stopped polishing the over-sized glass beer mug in her hand.

  “The Bellemonts are on vacation in Orlando. I left a text message on Stephanie’s cell.” Willa looked at her glass of tea and considered adding a dollop of peach schnapps to it.

  “And she’ll get back to you with the assurance that Anthony was at her house all night. He was most likely playing video games and doin’ whatever kids like to do these days,” Ruby said.

  “Yeah, what kids like to do,” Willa repeated. She tried not to think of less childlike activities that attracted Black teenage boys these days, including Anthony. With a final prayer that Stephanie would call her back soon with good news, Willa helped Mama Ruby set up for the Friday night crowd.

  Chapter 2

  Willa watched her daughter with a smile as she fixed a plate of sub sandwiches at the kitchen island. Seven-year-old Mikayla sat at the breakfast table. Late afternoon sunshine coming through the bay window to her left brought out the red highlights in her sandy brown hair. Mikayla screwed up her small face just the way Jack used to as she colored the picture with a marker. She restrained herself from crossing the room to scoop Mikayla into a bear hug. Soon to be eight, Mikayla had decided she was a big girl and didn’t like spontaneous babying from adults. No doubt Willa could thank the latest rump shaking female teen pop star for that change.