Your Goose Is Cooked (A LaTisha Barnhart Mystery)

by S. Dionne Moore

  Chief shot me an apologetic glance. We both turned to stare at Carl. When he finally noticed, he shot out a breath and covered his face.

  “You think it’s Flossie, don’t you?” His voice caught. “I didn’t want to believe it.”

  “Has she had access to the bodies at a point where she could take the jewelry?”

  Carl lowered his fingers to reveal red eyes. “I do the embalming, she does the preparation and inventories belongings.”

  Chief moved to the edge of his chair, hands on his knees. “Did she have a relationship with Aidan?”

  “No!”

  It was an answer straight from his heart and not his head. It explained the dinners, just the two of them. Carl’s idea. His hope for reconciliation.

  “You still love her?” I asked.

  He visibly melted into himself, defeated. “I didn’t think I did. I gave her the job because she needed extra cash. Betsy wasn’t paying her more than minimum wage.”

  I pushed. “Which explains why you didn’t offer the internship to Randy.”

  “He told you that?”

  “At the store yesterday. It would be a natural move for him to work in the field in which he is majoring.”

  Carl went back to his paper clip. “Flossie assured me she could handle the job, that she didn’t need help or want help. Said she’d work overtime.”

  “That didn’t seem strange to you?”

  I knew the answer to that. Judging by Chief’s expression, he knew the answer too. Carl continued bending and unbending the paper clip.

  We left him wallowing in his pit of misery. Chief remained quiet until we got outside.

  “Where did you head off to?”

  “Got it in my head to go listen in on the conversation. Found out the ladies’ room backs up to his office. Flossie was trying to get Carl to buy back the house she got in the divorce, feeding him all these lines about it being his family home. It finally boiled down to the fact she needed money.”

  Chief consulted his watch and waved a hand toward the library. “We should probably get going if we want to hear those speeches. We’ll take the cruiser.”

  We were quiet as we passed Aidan’s jewelry store, a For Lease sign in the shop window. The site brought back the question to which Carl had responded with such passion. “He sure didn’t like the thought of Flossie being in a relationship with Aidan.”

  Chief’s jaw flinched. “I wouldn’t either. Hurt’s a man’s ego.”

  “They’re divorced.”

  “I think Flossie wanted it way more than he did. If she and Aidan were involved in a racket, it would work. She lifts the jewelry, hands it over to Aidan, he makes a copy and gives it back.”

  “Aidan must have been fast.”

  “Pros usually are.”

  “Is that what the state is thinking?”

  “The rough-cut stones, the equipment, the fake jewelry showing up, the low inventory in Aidan’s shop—it all points to someone well established in the business of making counterfeit jewelry and, from his small inventory, possibly money laundering.”

  Chief stopped the cruiser in front of the steps leading up to the library entrance. Crowds were already gathering around the outside, waiting for the moment Lester and Eugene Taser made their speeches. I scanned any sign of Hardy, Elizabeth, or William. Townsfolk parted for the chief, I followed in his wake. Lester glad-handed the crowd, looking stunning in a fresh pair of overalls and a clean pair of work boots.

  “Looking good, Lester.”

  “Didn’t figure I should wear a suit if a suit wasn’t really me.”

  I love people who are comfortable with who they are. “Good thinking.” Next thing I know, Lester cocks his head back and hollers.

  “Everyone give a cheer for future town councilwoman, LaTisha Barnhart!”

  I could have clobbered him right then. Instead, I pasted on a smile and kept right on hoofing behind the chief. We made it inside the building where the musty, dusty smell of old books greeted us.

  Over the years, I’d made several donations to this place. Every one of my children had developed their love of books because I’d dragged them through aisle after aisle, year after year, pointing out classics and encouraging the passion.

  The door opened behind me, Chief and I turned to see who it was. Lester popped inside.

  “You’re obviously enjoying rock star status,” I said.

  Lester grinned. “You know me. I’m more at home with the cows.” He took the lead. “Mary’s in here,” he pointed to a conference room. “Welcome to come in.”

  “Eugene here yet?” Chief inquired.

  There were only a handful of people within sight, some at tables working, others reading quietly. Most were outside. The library offered what every library offers, solitude and quiet. A place to absorb uninterrupted. When I wanted a good book, I could scroll for titles along the shelves for hours. Not that I had the time to do that as often as I liked.

  “I sure didn’t see him anywhere,” I answered.

  Mary sat in the room by herself, her cheeks flushed pink, her pretty green dress a match to her soft eyes. Lester sat down at a small table where some notecards were spread over the surface. Chief scanned the room, turned and wandered out into the main room of the library. I shut the door, wondering if he expected some type of trouble. Ever since we’d left Carl’s, he’d seemed wound tighter than usual.

  “Practice on me, Lester,” I prompted the candidate, locking out thoughts of Carl and the Chief.

  Lester shuffled his cards together. Mary fussed with the straps of his overalls and straightened his collar. When she finished, he cleared his throat, stood erect, and inhaled real deep. “My fellow citizens—”

  The door flew open. Chief stood there, his arms around the shoulders of a disheveled Eugene Taser. Not only did Eugene not look well, he smelled of BO worse than my boys after a round of basketball.

  I shoved a chair his direction. Chief helped him down. A red mark on his cheek looked like someone had applied a knuckle sandwich to his face. Eugene swayed on the seat, then leaned forward and held his head in his hands. My eyes landed on a small trashcan and I made quick work of delivering it in front of Eugene in case he had the heaves or something.

  “Eugene?” Chief’s voice cut the shocked silence. “What happened?”

  “Lester,” I heard Mary’s voice. “It’s time.”

  Chief heard this and turned to a dumbfounded Lester. “I’ll stay here with him, why don’t you go ahead and go first?”

  Mary was steering Lester toward the door before Chief had finished.

  I followed Mary. “I’ll get him some water.”

  “Eugene?” I heard the chief again as I left the room. I grabbed a paper cup at the water cooler, filled it, and returned to hear sobs. Eugene’s sobs.

  What happened? my eyes asked Chief.

  He jerked his head in the direction of the corner of the room. We retreated there, Chief explaining. “I thought I heard a rise in the volume from the crowd and ducked outside figuring it was Eugene arriving. I was shocked to see him staggering around. Shiny was trying to hang on to him. I took over.”

  “He drunk?”

  “I don’t smell anything. I sent Shiny to round up Dr. Icon or Dr. Gordon.”

  Eugene sat up straight and wiped a hand down his face. Chief went to him, grabbed a chair and straddled it. “What’s going on, Eugene?”

  “Eddie and Roger. They double-crossed me. Roughed me up until I signed to withdraw the money from the campaign account.”

  Chief’s voice got hard. “Who are they?”

  Eugene gulped some water. “They were from Chicago. Told me they had a way to make sure I’d get reelected, that money was the key, and it didn’t have to all go to the campaign . . .” He swiped at his brow and winced. “They promised I’d be rich. I believed them.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “Gone.” Eugene touched a red place on his cheek.

  Chief’s eyes hard
ened. “They beat you up.”

  “What do you know about Aidan?” I slid in my question.

  “Nothing. I didn’t kill him!” Eugene massaged his eyes. “It was a setup. I convinced Aidan I wasn’t going to win against Lester. He said I had to. Eddie and Roger wouldn’t let me lose. That I was a good man and they’d help me. I lied. It was Aidan’s idea to pretend someone was out to get me to pull in sympathy votes.”

  “Where did William fit in?”

  “We’d just settled on it in the men’s room when William walked in. I knew he had started working for you and figured he’d tell you and that word would get around to most everyone at the Goose.”

  I pushed my hands down on my hips and drilled that boy. “You don’t know me well, then. Spreading rumors isn’t my pastime.”

  If I’d never seen a cowed Eugene Taser, I was seeing it now. He seemed to shrink into himself. “I didn’t know he couldn’t hear or talk. When the rumor didn’t get around, I figured we’d have to use another method. They got Betsy to call it in to some reporter in Denver.” He hesitated. “Then Aidan got shot. I thought they’d done it. They told me they hadn’t. That they didn’t have any reason to, but thought they might know who did do it.”

  “Who?” Chief barked.

  “They didn’t tell me and I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to know.”

  “Tell me about the money,” Chief prompted.

  “Aidan was running it through the jewelry store business. I didn’t ask where it came from, and when I did they said they had connections in Chicago. In exchange I would let them have certain privileges around town.”

  “It got out of hand,” I guessed.

  Eugene looked miserable. “After Aidan got shot, they panicked. They wanted to get out. Said things were too messed up, but Molly stood in their way. And me. Getting rid of Molly wasn’t hard, but getting my signature on the withdrawal slip . . .” He touched his cheek.

  A question popped into my mind. “Did you know their lady friends?”

  Eugene sucked in a breath. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d had some cracked ribs. “It was part of their cover. They brought the girls in to pose as their wives hoping to keep suspicion off them long enough for them to get me to sign over the money.”

  “Someone in a blue car like those ladies drove almost ran me over.”

  Eugene grimaced. “I don’t know anything about that, LaTisha. I promise.”

  Applause carried to us from the outside. Chief got up and crossed to the window. “Are you ready to make your speech? Then I’ll take you down to the station. I have some more questions for you.”

  Eugene got to his feet, acting nothing like the pompous lout that was his normal persona. “Lester will do Maple Gap proud.”

  Chief waved Mac over as soon as they got outside, and they whispered back and forth. The crowd gasped seeing Eugene, some calling out questions. Eugene held up his hand for silence.

  “I’m withdrawing from the race. That’s all I have to say for now.” A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. A few staunch Riley supporters cheered. In the front row, Molly looked pleased, but sad.

  My cell phone rang. I went back inside to get some quiet and pushed talk. Caller ID told me it was Hardy. “You’ll never guess this,” I began, but his words ran right over mine.

  “LaTisha. I got a match! Hop in Old Lou and pick me up.”

  Chapter Thirty

  “What you talking about, Hardy Barnhart? You mean the fingerprints?” I couldn’t believe it. My head splintered in a thousand directions and the familiar feeling scratched at my head. The Dumpster dive, finding the weapon, Hardy hearing the men argue, and the phrase “get the roughs from the posse.” Then there was our talk with Carl, his fight with Flossie and his disappointment in her. But the phrase kept repeating itself, and that’s when everything clicked together.

  I hustled myself through the crowd, congratulating Lester, doing my best not to run over anyone. When I broke through, Mac was helping Eugene into the patrol car. Chief stood on the passenger’s side, a phone stuck to his ear.

  I waved at him.

  His brows lowered at me.

  “I know who did it! Hardy got a match on those prints.”

  Chief’s lips formed a firm line. “I’ve got something, Sergeant, I’ll call you back in a minute.”

  He snapped his phone shut as Mac started the car. “Get in and we’ll talk.”

  I pushed him toward the open car door. He jackknifed his body onto the seat and must have seen me coming, because he slid over real fast to make room for me. No way was I sitting in the back.

  Confession time. “I had Hardy follow Eddie and Roger the other night. Only he was closer to them than Mac and heard them talking about getting some ‘roughs to a posse.’ It didn’t make sense to me.”

  Mac turned onto Gold Street and barreled toward the station, lights and siren blazing. Made me want to laugh. I think it was the first time I’d heard the siren blasting.

  I didn’t miss the disgusted look Chief sent Mac. Mac’s head seemed to sink lower between his shoulders.

  “It bothered me, that phrase. Then when we heard Carl, how broken up he was, how he said he wasn’t there last night and the fact his door opens onto the alley—”

  Mac jerked to a halt. My hands flew out to brace myself. Eugene mumbled something uncomplimentary. I spied Hardy on the steps. He skipped down those steps like a man drinking from the fountain of youth, and practically ran up to the cruiser.

  Mac helped Eugene from the back, a solid grip on his arm.

  Hardy’s eyes went wide. “You don’t look so good, Eugene. Did they boo your speech?”

  Eugene seemed to choke, a half laugh-half sob. Mac gave him a little push forward.

  Chief unfolded his body from the car. “What do you have, Hardy?”

  “I came over to check the prints I found against the ones the state took from the gun. Officer Nelson said they were a match.”

  “It goes back to that phrase, Chief,” I pointed out. “‘Roughs from a posse’ is what Hardy heard one of them say. Which also makes me think I need to get Hardy’s hearing checked.”

  Hardy bristled. “I was real far away.”

  Chief held up a hand, brow creased in concentration. “‘Roughs from a posse.’” His mind fingered the phrase. I savored the moment, but felt a need to move fast. Chief’s eyes flashed to mine. “Not posse, but—”

  He cut himself off, swinging to the driver’s side of the car. “Get in. Hurry!”

  Hardy was already halfway inside. I shoved up next to him on the seat and barely got my door shut before Chief peeled tires out of the parking space and swung the car around.

  We zipped past Sasha’s boutique and Betsy’s office building, then turned onto Goat’s Trail Road and passed our house. Chief slowed as he came to a four-way intersection that led into another tree-lined street. He made a quick right and slowed.

  “She’s not here,” Hardy broke the silence.

  I scanned the windows. Heavy curtains covered the downstairs. All was still and quiet.

  “These houses have those garages around back,” I reminded Chief.

  “I always wanted a garage around back of our house,” Hardy added.

  “Hush.” I motioned him to silence.

  Chief parked the car shy of Flossie Monroe’s driveway and got out. Hardy elbowed me hard. “I know you’re not going to let him handle this alone.”

  “Weren’t you just the one saying you’re not a cop?” I popped open the door, and Hardy slid out behind me. Chief was standing real still. He made a motion pointing to his ear.

  Betsy Taser’s shrill voice broke the silence. “It’s all you’re going to get.”

  A car door slammed. Chief motioned us down behind the lush hedge that separated the front yards of the properties. Within seconds, Betsy’s car revved up and appeared around the corner. She paused at the end of the driveway, not even seeing us, though her brake lights flashed when she spotted the cruiser. T
he thought crossed my mind to chase her, but I didn’t figure she was the one we really wanted.

  “You two stay back,” Chief warned.

  “You’ll scare her. If I go back there and play it down, it’ll give you time to call Mac in to block the road.”

  Chief didn’t like the idea. Didn’t like the fact that he was sending in a civilian. I didn’t like it either.

  “Play it cool. See if you can get her out in the open more. Hardy, you follow this hedge down and keep an eye on things. If LaTisha gets in too deep, you run for me. Don’t wait until the situation is out of control. I’ll radio Mac and post myself at the corner. Don’t try anything too soon, LaTisha. Give me a few minutes. Got it?”

  I got slid between the hedge, the branches yanking on my clothes until I thought I’d come out naked. I straightened myself out on the other side, casting an eye over the hedge and following the vague blur that was Hardy making his way down the line of shrubs. I gulped air and started up the driveway. The electronic roll of a garage door but no sound of a car motor. I quickened my pace.

  Flossie’s car sat outside in the sunshine, several boxes packed into the front passenger’s seat. She was hanging over a box in the trunk, her back to me. I did my best to put together what I was going to say.

  “Flossie? You back here, honey? There you are.”

  When she tilted her face my way, I could see the strain there. The fatigue, much like I’d seen earlier, but worse now. I fell into the part with ease, letting my eyes trail over the boxes in the trunk.

  “You must be headed on vacation. No wonder you beat it out of the Goose so fast. Carl going with you?” I almost bit my tongue. Why did I mention Carl?

  “I was getting ready to pull out for a little trip into New Mexico. My grandparents live down that way. Is there something you were needing?”

  “I hope you won’t be gone long. I’ve been cooking up a plan to have a fund-raiser for the Buchanans. I’m needing some volunteers.”

  Flossie leaned over the box again.

  I relaxed. She didn’t perceive me as a threat and thought I’d accepted her whole vacation excuse.

  “I don’t know. I’m pretty busy. Why the Buchanans?”

  “Someone said Betsy was talking about the medical bills they still had from Sara’s treatments.”