A Tiny Collierville Murder (A Tiny House Cozy Mystery Book 1)

by Abby L. Vandiver

  I opened my mouth. I’m sure he could see the disbelief on my face. “Oookaaay.”

  “Do you know anything about computers?” he asked.

  “I can Google cyber theft on my iPad.”

  “This is not cyber theft.”

  “How about trespassing? Breaking and entering?” I shrugged. “Snooping?”

  “Snooping isn’t a crime,” he said and rolled his eyes.

  “Those computers probably have a password,” I said.

  “Maybe,” he said. But I could see in his eyes he wasn’t listening to me or thinking straight. “I’ll see what I can do.” He put his hand out. “You wait here.”

  He didn’t have to tell me twice.

  My little heart started to race, and I had to rub my clammy palms together to try and keep them dry. Even being an innocent accomplice wasn’t good for my system – it was pumping out buckets of adrenaline in double time.

  “Calm down,” I whispered to myself. “Anyone will just be able to look at you and tell that you’re part of an ill-planned criminal enterprise.”

  I took in a breath through my nostrils and blew it out my mouth.

  Then I spotted a guy wearing a striped work shirt with his name sewn over his pocket and a light bulb went off in my head.

  I remembered when people buy a new car, they send it to the back to get it ready while the customer signs all the paperwork and get their insurance added. I could tell by his clean uniform, that he wasn’t changing oil or tires. He had to be one of the guys that detailed cars. He would have seen those cars, and I was hoping that they were a rare enough buy that he’d remember them.

  “Hello,” I sidled up next to him at the coffee machine and grabbed a Styrofoam cup. Detailer Guy was bent over the counter dumping packets of sugar in a cup. “You have to spend the entire day here to get a car, huh?” I smiled at him. “Good thing you guys have coffee.”

  He took a look at me and a big smile spread across his face.

  “Hi,” he said standing up straight.

  “Hi, Mike,” I said making an obvious show of looking at his name patch.

  “So you buying a car?” he asked.

  “Maybe,” I said and batted my eyes. “My friend bought a couple of cars here the other day, and they were so cute. I just had to come over and see about getting me one.”

  Wait, was I trying to do a Southern girl kind of thing? I felt a twang in my voice, and my eyelids were going a mile a minute. I shook my head and cleared my throat.

  “He bought a 370z Roadster. Two,” I held up two fingers speaking in my usual voice, “to be exact.”

  “Oh so you thought you’d buy one? Be like him?”

  “Mmm hmmm.” I tilted my head to the side. “But he bought his for him and his wife. A red one and a pearl-colored one. I’m getting one for me, just can’t decide what color. What’s your favorite color?”

  “Oh yeah,” he said, and started slowly nodding his head. “I remember those cars. They created a big buzz around here ‘cause they paid cash.”

  “Really?” I said, my best fake surprised look on face. “Well, I declare. He didn’t tell me that.”

  Did I just say “declare?”

  “And the salesman that got the sale,” he didn’t seem to notice my Gone With the Wind impression, “had been having a real dry spell. That was a once in a lifetime sale for him. He came in the next day and ordered this gigantic spread of food for the entire office.” He licked his lips and patted his stomach. “It was so good.”

  “He must have had a suitcase full of money.”

  “Hahaha,” he laughed. “That would have been cool. But I’m sure they had a cashier’s check. That’s how those rich folks do it. I’ve even heard of people putting it on their credit card. Can you imagine having enough on your credit card for buy a car?”

  Not my little low-limit credit cards . . .

  “Yeah, so anyway.” I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “So you were here when he bought them?”

  He shook his head. “Not on the floor, I work in the back.” He pointed through a door that was marked “Service.”

  “I remember somebody saying they were gifts for someone.”

  “Yeah, the red one,” I said.

  “Oh. I thought both cars were gifts. Whoever bought them wasn’t buying them for themselves.”

  My eyes got big. “Why would you say that?”

  “I heard the guys talking about it when we detailed them. But since you know the guy, they must not have been both gifts. Just the one.”

  “You detail new cars?”

  I knew that new cars were detailed, so I didn’t know why I asked that question. Enough with the small talk, I had an answer – some Intel.

  “Of course,” he was still talking, explaining to me about the world of detailing. “When they come in they’re wrapped up, got fingerprints on them, dirty from being hauled down a highway on the back of an open carrier.”

  “Oh okay,” I said. “That makes sense.” I nodded listlessly.

  “C’mon! We gotta go!” Liam came out of nowhere and yanked my arms.

  “Hey!” I said nearly flying through the air as he snatched me forward. “What the . . .”

  “Run,” he said and weaved through the cars on the floor and out of the door.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “See there’s that car that Dale bought.” Liam pointed to a red little convertible. We were sitting in his driveway after our little dubious search of the Nissan dealership.

  Liam had found nothing. Couldn’t get into the computers or a locked file room he’d found. Well, he did find trouble. A security guard and one of the sales people had seen him slither in and out of the glass encased office and then try to punch in different combinations on the lock pad on the room where they kept files.

  Luckily we made it out, but I swore off of riding in Liam’s truck again, because I was almost sure they’d taken down his license plate.

  Dale’s car was the sweetest ride I’d ever seen. And I’d seen a lot of nice cars living in LA. This Nissan was like nothing I’d ever seen. It was so cute, and it did look like it cost a lot of money.

  Believe me, I had an eye for expensive things.

  “Where is Courtney Lynne’s?” I asked. I really wanted to see hers. “I bet the pearly-color is pretty.”

  Liam hunched his shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe still out cavorting with Grant.” He glanced over at me.

  Then a light bulb went off under my head of wavy black hair. “How about we look in the glove compartment?” I said.

  “The glove compartment?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Of Dale’s car. That’s where people usually keep their registration.”

  “Oh,” he said, leaving his mouth shaped in an “o” and nodding his head. “Because your detail guy said he didn’t think it was Dale that bought the cars.”

  I had been very happy to gloat over how I had acquired, hopefully useful, information at the dealership and not broken one single law.

  “Yes,” I said. “We could see who did.”

  “Good idea.” He smiled and opened the door. “C’mon. Let’s go break into Dale’s car.”

  That pretty little Nissan Roadster was sitting in the driveway shiny, top down, unlocked and vulnerable. No need to break into it.

  I pulled my purse over my head and across my body and glanced over at Liam. He looked like he was getting a rush from all of this being bad.

  “All we have to do is reach in and open the glove compartment,” I said. “It’s all open.” I circled my hands over the car.

  “You look,” he said. “I’ll stand guard.” He walked toward the front of the car and turned to the side so he could see the house and watch me.

  “Me?”

  “Well, I don’t want to get caught going in it,” he said, his eyes big. “I have to live here.”

  “Geesh.”

  I glanced around. Nothing and no one around. But that meant nothing on that ranch. I hadn’t se
en nothing or no one the day Big Willie was killed, yet someone got to him.

  “Okay,” I said. I started to open the car door.

  “Don’t open it,” Liam threw up his hands in a panic. “Alarm might go off.”

  “What alarm? It’s not locked.” I pointed to the lock on the inside of the door.

  “Just reach in.” He did a whisper shout as if they could hear him in the house if he spoke in a normal voice.

  “Okay,” I said and reached my hand over in the car. I pushed on the latch and the door popped open.

  “Who bought it?”

  “Give me a minute,” I said. “I found something.”

  I fished around with my hand and felt the new car manual and what seemed to be an envelope. I pulled the envelope, but it was a letter that had come in the mail.

  “Well?” was Liam’s impatient query.

  “OMG,” I said and he gave me the eye. “Okay. Got it. I think.” I pulled out a folded over bundle of papers. “Yeah, this is it.”

  “Well, read it.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Hey y’all,” came a call from porch.

  It was Dale.

  “Aww shoot!” Liam said. He scooted over so he blocked me from Dale’s view. “Put it back.” He spoke out the side of his mouth. “Put. It. Back.”

  “What y’all doing?” He started off the little stoop of the porch.

  “Just admiring your car,” Liam called back, then in a strained whisper commanded me to, “Put it back.”

  “Already did,” I said.

  “Did you get the name?”

  “Yes,” was all I could get out before Dale called out again.

  “She’s a beaut, ain’t she?” he said, making his way over. The memory of Big Willie using that word to describe the tiny house he was showing me made me smile.

  “C’mon,” Liam said. “Let’s go over there and talk to him. I don’t want to talk to him by the car. He might get suspicious.” He started walking. I didn’t move. He looked back at me. “C’mon.” He beckoned with his hand behind him.

  I’m sure my unwillingness to talk up close and personal to Dale was evident all over my face.

  “Don’t be scared,” Liam said. He turned around and came back, took a hold of my arm and dragged me behind him.

  “I don’t like people that accuse me of murder,” I muttered.

  “Maybe he was doing it to project what he’d done onto you,” he muttered back.

  “Hey. You like the car?” Dale said. He was close enough that I could see the smile on his face.

  “Oh yeah,” Liam said. “You’re right. It’s a beaut.”

  “Come on,” he said walking right past us. “Take a better look at it.”

  “We were just headed in the house,” Liam said.

  “How you gone pass up looking at her,” Dale said. He opened the driver’s side door and made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Get in Nixie, see how it feels to sit behind the wheel.”

  What was this guy up to? Yesterday he was accusing me of murder, today he wanted to be my best friend.

  I looked at Liam and he looked at me.

  “Go ahead,” Liam said. He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Try it out.”

  Dale was standing there with a smile on his face, the door open waiting for me.

  I blew out a breath and reluctantly went over and got in. Dale closed the door behind me.

  As soon as I got in I melted.

  It had that new car smell, the seats were soft and buttery and everything was shiny. The big Z in the center of the steering wheel made it sporty. I was surrounded by the dash and gear shift, I felt like I’d slipped into an airplane.

  “Nice,” I said as I rubbed my hand over the interior.

  “So . . .” Dale said then hesitated. Then he leaned over into the car. He was breathing kind of heavy and his face was contorted. I wasn’t sure what he had on his mind. I didn’t like people up close and hovering over me, especially when I was confined to a small space and I had no means of retreat. I couldn’t defend myself.

  I looked around. I needed an escape route. The gear shift was in the middle of the car so I couldn’t slide over and I couldn’t pop out the top, or the door because he blocked it.

  I leaned away from him, ready to strike when he said, “Look. I want to say I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions yesterday. You know, about you shooting Big Willie.”

  I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

  “I really mean that,” he said. “I feel bad. I still don’t know what happened.” He looked at me, up at Liam then back. “But I shouldn’t have done that. I was just a . . . uh . . . Well, it was just a stressful time for me.”

  Liam walked around the car and moved Dale aside. “Let her out of the car,” he said. “You’re making her nervous.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Dale said and stepped back.

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  Liam ran his hand over the car as he shut the door.

  “Must’ve cost you a pretty penny,” Liam said. “I was surprised to see you with such an expensive car.”

  “It was a surprise to me, too,” Dale said a big grin on his face.

  “Was it really?” Liam asked.

  “A good surprise, though. Huh?” Dale said still smiling.

  “Did you shoot Big Willie to get it?” Liam said. “Did you kill him?”

  “What?” Dale said, a look of anger flashing across his face.

  “Did you shoot my father?” Liam repeated his question. Dale’s faced turned red, he straightened his back and it looked as if I could see the hairs on his head stand up.

  “He was my father, too,” Dale said. Then he set one leg back behind the other. I knew that stance. It was what you did when you were ready to fight. I scooted behind Liam. I didn’t want to be in the middle of any of Dale’s angry wild swings.

  If this was how Liam was going to interrogate people – make them mad, then I was going to have to let him conduct his little investigation all by himself.

  “No he wasn’t.” Liam’s voice was calm and he didn’t lose his composure. “Big Willie wasn’t your father.”

  “What is wrong with you, Liam?” Dale said. “We’re all upset about Big Willie.”

  “Did you think you’d have something to gain by killing him? Because you won’t be getting his money or his business.”

  “Why do you keep saying I killed him?” Dale balled up his fist. “Don’t say that.”

  “Where did you get the money to buy this car, Dale? Where did you get the money to buy two cars?”

  “That’s none of your business, Liam.”

  “It’s my business if you got them by killing my father.”

  “I swear, Liam,” Dale said between clenched teeth, “if you say one more time that I did anything to hurt Big Willie-”

  “What, Dale?” Liam cocked his head to the side. “You’ll kill me, too?”

  “Isn’t that Detective McEnroe?” I said trying to distract the two away from the physical fight that seemed to be brewing. I saw the same unmarked police car that I’d seen the other day pull up and park on the grass.

  Didn’t they ever park in driveways?

  Dale slowly took his eyes off of Liam, then turned around and looked toward the police car. “Yeah. He wanted to see us.”

  “About what?” Liam said. “Did he find out who shot Big Willie?”

  “I don’t know, Liam. But if he did know, he would tell you it wasn’t me.” Dale pulled his legs together and unclenched his fists. “I forgot all about him. He was the reason I came outside in the first place. I came out to wait for him. He called and said he was on his way over.”

  “Did he say why?” Liam said.

  Dale shrugged. “He said he wanted to let us know who passed the GSR test.”

  “Why? Somebody didn’t pass it?” Liam asked.

  “Guess we’ll see.” He looked at me before he walked over to greet the detective who had just parked, and said,
“Maybe today, somebody’ll get arrested.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Everyone passed the test,” Detective Henry McEnroe announced after he had us all gathered in the sitting room off the main hallway.

  “Us” included everyone that was there on the day of the murder except Courtney Lynne, Grant Granville, and Jimmy. I had pulled my purse off over my head and set it in my lap after I sat in an upholstered armchair with big white peonies. The salmon background of the chair matched the carpet and drapes. Dale and his mother, Cynthia, sat on an eggshell-colored, modern-styled microfiber couch. Liam and Jacob stood on either side of the archway into the room, both leaned against the wall. Unlike Grant’s house with the open floor plan, the rooms in this house were all defined.

  And wasn’t I lucky to just happened to be there when the good detective showed up.

  I blew out a sigh of relief after he revealed the results. While we waited for everyone to gather I had been so nervous about it once I found out he had the information. I felt as if he was going to tell me I hadn’t passed.

  “You seemed relieved, Ms. Culpepper,” he said to me. Everyone turned and looked at me. “Why is that?” I opened my mouth to say something, but he continued before I could. “You shouldn’t have been worried. It seems like you were about the only one that hadn’t had an opportunity to wash your hands after the murder. Although there are ways you could have managed to pass that test without soap and water.”

  “What are you insinuating?” Cynthia Carter asked, seemingly speaking up for me.

  “I don’t insinuate, Mrs. Carter. I’m a facts kind of man. I deal only with facts.”

  “Well we’re all anxious,” Cynthia Carter said. “That doesn’t prove anything. We all want to know what happened.”

  “I’m sure we all do,” Detective McEnroe said and looked at each of us. “And I can further assure you that no one wants that more than me.”

  “So is that why you wanted to come by?” Cynthia said standing up, signaling she was done with the conversation. “You needed to come over to relay the test results? You could have told us that over the phone.”