Whispering Pines Mysteries Box Set 3

by Shawn McGuire

  Apparently he’d learned more in law school than I gave him credit for. He did a fine job covering up guilt and hiding identities. “How did you hurt this person?”

  He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. The thing is, it’s bad.” The color drained from his face. “I might have killed them.”

  My shock was genuine, but not for the reason he thought. I couldn’t believe he shot a woman and fled without finding out if she was okay or not. I mean, if he intended to kill her, wouldn’t he want to make sure he’d finished the job? If he hadn’t meant to and cared about her, wouldn’t he at least call 911 anonymously?

  “You might have killed them?” I echoed. “You don’t know?”

  “I panicked, Jay. I ran and was racking my brain trying to figure out what to do.” His face brightened. “And then you popped into my mind.”

  Why? Because he thought he could manipulate me into . . . doing what? It’s not like I could cover this up even if I wanted to. He obviously didn’t know that Millie, the real Millie, was alive and well and probably singing like a proverbial canary to the officers in Madison.

  “What do you think I can do to help you?”

  He shrugged and sort of nonchalantly suggested, “You know the folks at the precinct down there. Couldn’t you talk to them? If they can’t make it go away, maybe they could at least keep it off the news?”

  He thought he might have killed a person and that was what he wanted?

  “Go ahead and charge you with manslaughter but convince Channel 15 to not mention it on the nightly news? Why? So Daddy won’t be humiliated and disown you completely?”

  He remained mute and slumped like a scolded little boy. It was sort of heartbreaking.

  “I’m not sure what kind of superpowers you think I have,” I continued, “but there isn’t one thing I can do about this. My relationship with Captain Grier is so-so. All the other officers at the precinct blame me for Randy’s downfall.”

  Tone it down, Jayne in my head warned. Push too hard and he’ll bolt.

  She was right. Jonah hadn’t told me the full story yet. Then again, how would I know if he was telling me the truth? I needed to talk to pretend Millie. She might have more pieces to this puzzle for me.

  “I’m sorry, Jonah. You’ve only given me bits and pieces of what happened. You haven’t even told me a name. I’m not sure why you thought I could help, but there’s nothing I can do about this.”

  Before he could say another word, I got up and left the room.

  Chapter 23

  Deputy Atkins reached for the carafe and refilled his coffee cup. “Why didn’t you tell him flat out that you knew he was talking about Camille Gordon and that she hadn’t died?”

  “Because I wanted to gather more facts first.” I loaded two more crackers with cheese and handed one to Tripp. “The storm was still blowing hard, and the roads were still impassable. Jonah wasn’t going anywhere. At that point, I didn’t trust a single thing he was telling me. I wanted to talk to ‘Millie’ and find out what she knew. Once I’d armed myself with as much information as possible, I’d go back and push Jonah harder.”

  Atkins nodded his approval of this plan. “You left him in his room and went to talk to Millie.”

  “Right.”

  “And did she have any insight for you?”

  To say the least, she sure as hell did.

  ~~~

  I found Millie in the nook at the top of the stairs right where she said she’d be, staring at something on her cell phone. She leaped to her feet when she saw me. Without saying a word, I motioned for her to follow me and led her to my apartment. I closed and locked the door behind us this time. It was probably just me being paranoid, but I didn’t want Jonah, or anyone else, to walk in and interrupt us. I wanted to hear the truth from her, and I wanted it now.

  “Have a seat.” I waved at the sofa again but didn’t offer her anything to eat or drink this time.

  She tapped her long, perfectly manicured fingernails together as she asked, “What’s going on, Jayne?”

  I grabbed my voice recorder from the basket on my dresser, turned it on, and set it on the coffee table in front of the sofa. “I want you to tell me the truth about why you’re here. Let’s start with your name.”

  She lifted a shoulder in a shrug and gave a strained laugh. “You already know that. I’m Camille Gordon.”

  “Camille Gordon, Jonah’s real girlfriend, is currently in a hospital in Madison. Try again. What’s your name?”

  She seemed to debate whether she should change her answer or stick to her story and finally opted for, “My name is Brandi.”

  “Brandi what?”

  Not quite ready to reveal all, she stated, “Just Brandi.”

  “Okay, Brandi, tell me what you know about Millie Gordon.”

  Like a model highlighting an item on display, she held her elegant hand near the top of her head and slid it down her body and toward her feet. “I know she looks like me.”

  “She looks similar to you. You’re taller. Why are you pretending to be her?”

  Brandi crossed her legs and kicked her foot.

  “All right,” I suggested after two minutes of silence, “let’s try it this way. Camille Gordon is recovering from a gunshot wound allegedly inflicted by Jonah Price. The man you’ve been sharing a bed with. You can either tell me what you know or I’ll assume you’re an accessory to this crime, and you’ll go to jail when the officers from Madison come to pick him up.”

  I could see the wheels spinning behind her bright eyes.

  Leaning forward so suddenly I startled her, I demanded, “What’s going on? Why are you so reluctant to tell me the truth? Is Jonah threatening you? Is he holding you against your will?”

  She stared at me with big, unblinking eyes and then let out a huge sigh. “I knew this wouldn’t end well. I’ve told myself a hundred times to listen to that little voice in my head when it speaks. But do I? No. Can I get some water?”

  “No. Keep talking.”

  She pouted a little but didn’t object. “Fine. First of all, we’re not sharing a bed. He’s been sleeping in the lower bunk. Second, I don’t know anything about this Camille woman. I never met her, never saw her, never even heard her name until Wednesday night.” Her brow creased. “And I swear, I had no idea Jonah shot her.”

  “What happened Wednesday night?”

  She gave me the same kind of be patient look Briar gave me earlier when I wanted to know about Farkas being my spirit animal.

  I nodded an apology. I was anxious for answers.

  “Wednesday night Jonah came into my club looking like he’d been run over by a monster truck.”

  “Your club?”

  She nodded. “Well, it’s not my club. I dance there.”

  “Dance?” Oh, good lord, Jonah, what have you gotten yourself into?

  “I’m a dancer.” She raised her chin regally and pushed her shoulders back. “Of the exotic variety.”

  I gave her a pitying look. “There must be a better way to earn a living.”

  “See now,” she glanced at her buzzing phone and then back to me, “that’s it exactly. I earn a living. We’ve got a very strict look but don’t touch policy. They don’t even get to tuck the bills into our G-strings. They go into a fishbowl on the stage. You’d be shocked at how much I can bring in on a busy night.”

  I was about to repeat myself about there being a better way to make money when she added, “Judge me if you must, but the money I make more than pays for my grandmama’s nursing home.”

  That caught my attention. Those places weren’t cheap. “Really?”

  “Grandmama turned ninety in September and is spunky as a puppy.” Brandi tapped her forehead. “She’s a little fuzzy, though, and tends to make a break for the nearest bingo hall if we leave her alone for too long. It’s easier for all of us—me, my mama, and my little brother—if she stays in a home.” She placed her hands over her heart and gushed, “And she’s so happy there. They’ve
got in-house bingo three nights per week, a karaoke competition on Friday nights, and chair yoga every weekday afternoon. Although Grandmama insists it isn’t yoga if it’s not done on the floor, so she brings a mat. Her favorite perk is the massage therapist. Not only is Reynaldo easy on the eyes, she loves it when he rubs her calves.”

  I had no response for that. “Okay, back on topic. Jonah came into your club Wednesday night.”

  “Right.” She pulled her legs up and crisscrossed them on the sofa. “He said he had to go somewhere, that his date canceled on him, and it was ‘imperative’ that she go with him.” She lowered her voice two octaves on the word imperative in a mimic of Jonah. “He told me I looked a bit like her, his girlfriend, and said if I would go with him, he’d pay me triple my night’s earnings.”

  My left eye twitched. “And you just decided to get into a car and head north with a complete stranger? Sorry, but didn’t your grandmama teach you that was a bad idea?”

  Brandi blushed. “She did. And if all her cookies were still in the jar”—she tapped her temple again—“she’d yell at me good and long about that. But I have that tracking thing on my cell phone, and one of the other girls said she would check on me hourly. She hasn’t missed yet. And if I don’t reply within ten minutes, she’ll call the cops.” She pointed at her phone sitting on the sofa cushion next to her. “That was her earlier. Hang on, I better respond.” Brandi read the message on her screen, smiled, and tapped out a reply. “She got right up in Jonah’s face before we left and told him she’d better hear from me or else. Oh, we have code words, too. If I don’t include one of our code words every few texts, she’ll know he’s answering for me and will also call the cops.”

  I had to admit, I was impressed with this system. “You get this offer, make arrangements with your friend, run home to pack a bag, and leave with Jonah?”

  “Pretty much.” Brandi reached up to her hair, tugged, and revealed a cute curly blonde pixie cut beneath the bobbed brunette wig. “Jonah said Millie has dark hair. We’ve got three or four dozen wigs in the dressing room. Most of us girls like to disguise ourselves so people don’t recognize us at the Piggly Wiggly.” She paused and pondered. “Although, now that I think about it, most of the patrons who come to our club are from the other side of Madison. Anyone from my little town looking for entertainment will head to a club on the south or east end.” She shrugged. “It’s fun to play dress up either way, you know?”

  “You’re an exotic dancer,” I pointed out. “The only thing you wear are shoes, a G-string, and a wig. Not sure that qualifies as ‘dressing up.’”

  She giggled and wiggled. “You forgot the pasties.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at that. It took me a good thirty seconds to pull myself together. “Okay. So Jonah’s looking for a fill-in for his girlfriend and offers you a few grand to pretend to be Millie Gordon—”

  “Ten.”

  “Ten what?”

  “I make six hundred a night. On average. He wasn’t sure how long we’d be gone, so I told him I wanted fifteen. He offered ten or he’d find someone else.” She shrugged. “I figured it would be sort of like going undercover. And it was something different to do for a few days.”

  Six hundred dollars a night? I tried to do the math on what that equated to annually, and she offered the answer.

  “Six a night is three thousand a week, more if the customers are feeling generous.” She winked. “And it’s my job to make them feel generous. Three grand times fifty weeks a year, plus we get two weeks of vacation. We full-timers also get two weeks of paid sick time because no one wants to watch a dancer hacking up a lung on stage. So, yeah. I bring in one fifty to two hundred a year. That leaves plenty for Grandmama’s home and my living expenses, which aren’t all that much. I sock away all that I can for my retirement.” She wiggled her boobs again. “Won’t be able to do this forever. I’m thinking about becoming a police dispatcher after this. Isn’t that ironic? Go from totally exposed to behind the scenes where no one will even see my face.”

  The thing was, she had a nice soothing voice. Which was actually a plus for a dispatcher. It helped keep stressed-out officers calm.

  “Looking at the profession a little differently now aren’t you, Sheriff?”

  I wasn’t sure which was more shocking. That Jonah offered her ten thousand dollars for a weekend or that an exotic dancer made that much money. Well, probably not all of them.

  “All right, you agree to ten grand, put a safety system into place with your friend, and Jonah fills you in on Millie as you head north. Why come here?”

  “I have no idea.” Brandi held both hands out to me in a stop gesture. “Sincerely. I told him I didn’t want to know any unnecessary details. I agreed to play the role however he wanted me to, but I didn’t need to understand the motivation behind the fantasy.” She made a face and shivered. “Knowing that kind of stuff makes me feel all skeezy inside.”

  I’d really hoped she’d be able to confirm Jonah’s story about wanting my help, but I believed her “skeezy” claim. That meant I still didn’t know if his excuse that he panicked over possibly killing a friend was the real reason they were here.

  “Could I get that glass of water now? I’ve got nothing to hide, Sheriff. I won’t run on you.” She glanced around my apartment. “Actually, I like it up here. Makes me feel cozy and safe.”

  This apartment made me feel that way too. I think it was the shorter ceilings and warm colors. And that Tripp was usually in here with me. “Do you want something stronger than water?”

  “Nah. It’s getting late. Beer makes me feel all bloated if I drink it too close to bedtime. I wouldn’t say no to another Oreo or three, though.”

  I turned off the voice recorder while I grabbed a glass of water and the cookie package. Brandi nibbled while I reviewed what I knew.

  Obviously something big happened between Jonah and Millie. He claimed there was a discussion that turned into an argument during which his friend, a.k.a. Millie, pushed him until he blew. Or rather, shot her.

  “This person knew about all of my recent . . . failures? Losses? Whatever you want to call them, they knew and pushed and pushed me about it. How had I become such a loser? What was I going to do now? How was this going to look to the political society?”

  Had she also broken up with him? I knew nothing about Camille Gordon, but Rosalyn told me she was a big deal in Madison’s social scene. My brief internet search revealed she was in fact the same woman Jonah predicted would rise quickly up the ranks. The job at Price, Maroney, and Associates was her second out of college, and she was already one of their senior accountants. Her family, like Jonah’s, was well known around the city. If he lost his job, his apartment, and then the woman who could help him keep his political future on track, no wonder he blew up.

  Wednesday night, Jonah’s emotions were running high and hot. He had this near-fatal argument with Millie and then goes to a strip club? That part boggled my mind. How did he even know about the place? How long had he been going there?

  I turned the voice recorder back on. “Did you ever see Jonah at your club before?”

  Brandi shook her head. “No. I try not to look at faces, though. If I do, I try to forget them right away.” She wrinkled her nose. “The Piggly Wiggly factor.”

  She didn’t want them to recognize her, and she didn’t want to recognize them. I could understand that.

  Jonah goes to the club, finds a woman who somewhat resembles Millie, and pays her ten thousand dollars to pretend to be her for a few days. If he was running from the cops because of the shooting, why did he need a date? To keep up appearances or try to make me jealous of how he’d moved on? For an alibi?

  Someone pounded on the apartment door. Sounded urgent.

  I clicked off the recorder again. “Hang on, Brandi. Do me a favor and stay here, okay? I’ve got a few more questions.”

  She nodded and grabbed another cookie. Dancing must burn a lot of calories because she sure
packed away the food and did not have a weight problem.

  I unlocked and opened the door, expecting to find Jonah wanting his date back. Instead, Lily Grace stood there with a huge smile on her face.

  “Leslie just woke up.”

  Chapter 24

  Tripp couldn’t hold back another second. “Brandi is a stripper and makes over six figures a year?”

  Atkins gave him a stern look that softened quickly. Seemed he’d been thinking the same thing if the pink tint to his cheeks was any indicator.

  “Sorry.” Tripp held his hands in the air. “I know, I’m supposed to be quiet. I’ve just never met a stripper face-to-face before.” He plucked three grapes from the bunch on the platter and shoved them into his mouth as I gave him a stink eye over the “face-to-face” comment.

  “For the record,” I corrected, “she’s an exotic dancer.”

  As I refilled my coffee cup, Atkins twirled his hand in a go-on motion. “Please, continue. Your mystery guest has woken up.”

  ~~~

  I took two steps toward the Jack room, and Lily Grace stopped me. “Wait a couple minutes. Jola is checking her over and stuff. Why was your door locked?”

  “I’m interviewing Brandi.”

  She looked confused. “Who’s Brandi?”

  I debated for a second about how much to say and then gave her a shortened version of our conversation.

  “Wow,” she replied. “Does Jonah have that kind of money?”

  I’d just told her what the woman did for a living and that’s what she wanted to know? I shouldn’t have been surprised. Lily Grace wasn’t one to judge. Partly because she grew up in Whispering Pines and learned from the start to accept people for who they were, and partly because she was too wrapped up in her own world to worry about someone else’s. Still, it never ceased to amaze me which details people found interesting. That’s why we interviewed as many witnesses at a crime scene as possible. Somewhere in the jumble of statements was the truth.