Lilliput Bar Mystery

by Curry, Edna

  The wind circled snow around the car, building an odd white mound behind it. He snapped pictures of the car from every angle, trying to imagine the accident as it had happened.

  The coroner had forced open the driver’s door and was examining the man who lay slumped over the steering wheel.

  Chance moved closer and recognized the man. Frank Johnson.

  Another coincidence? Not likely. Chance didn’t believe in coincidences. Especially not connected to dead bodies, however innocent the circumstances of the death looked.

  Chance and Roger continued taking pictures of everything, then the coroner and ambulance crew removed the body.

  “Can you tell if he died from the accident or something else?” Chance asked the coroner.

  “Plenty of head trauma,” Dr. Sans grunted. “Probably hit the windshield. That might have killed him, I don’t know yet. I’ll do an autopsy and let you know later.”

  After the ambulance had left with the body and they’d taken all their information, Chance went back to investigate the mound of snow at the rear of the car. He found nothing unusual in it.

  An odd suspicion leapt into his mind. He went back to the front of the car and peered inside. The key was turned on, but the car hadn’t been running when they arrived, nor was any snow melted around the tailpipe, as would have been the case if it had continued running after the accident. He snapped a picture of the dashboard dials. The gas gauge read empty.

  Even his fatigue fogged brain knew this was no accident.

  Chance went back to the office and reported in to Sheriff Ben, who took one look at his overworked staff and sighed. “Go home and get some sleep, Chance,” he said. “Tom and I will hold out for a few more hours. By then we’ll have a report from the coroner and the mechanic who’s examining the car.”

  “Okay,” Chance agreed. “In the meantime, take a look at the pictures I emailed you. Tell me if you see anything fishy.”

  Sheriff Ben gave him a sharp look and nodded. “Will do. Now get out of here. You look dead on your feet.”

  Chance winced. “Don’t use the word dead in this town. I think we’re jinxed.”

  ***

  I’d had a morning lockout call before I even finished clearing my driveway, so had to get out in the snow. Did I mention that I really, really hated driving on snowy roads? Once I thought I’d move south to live so I wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore. But then, I learned there are worse things than snow and ice. Like numerous kinds of poisonous snakes, ditto for spiders, also chiggers, alligators and tarantulas. Shudder. No thanks. I’d deal with the snow and ice.

  The guy was super grateful to get his car open, saying he would be in big trouble if he missed a day of work.

  By then it was almost nine, and my stomach growled with hunger. I was near the Cozy Corner, so I stopped in for an omelet and coffee. I found a table and in a minute Ardis popped over and greeted me. “Cassie! What a surprise. What are you doing over here on such a nasty morning?”

  “I had a lockout a couple miles from here, so I thought I’d indulge in one of your bacon and cheese omelets.”

  “Okay,” she said, pouring me coffee. She put in my order and came back with a cup of coffee in her hand for herself. Plopping down opposite me, she said, “Boy, this weather sure kills business. We’ve only had a few people out so far this morning.”

  “I can relate. It’s supposed to stop snowing soon, though. And the plows are out, so that’ll help.”

  She nodded, sipping her coffee. “Lots of accidents with this storm, even a fatality.”

  “Oh, no,” I said, my heart speeding up with worry. Chance had been out in that mess. “Who was killed?”

  “A man went into a ditch out on highway thirty-seven. Didn’t you hear about that?”

  I shook my head. “No. I haven’t heard anything. I didn’t even turn on the news this morning, I just went out to shovel my driveway, then got that call, and here I am.”

  The kitchen buzzer sounded, and Ardis went to get my order, and poured us more coffee.

  I wanted to call someone to ask who’d been killed, but that was silly. It probably wasn’t anyone I knew anyway. And I was pretty sure Chance had worked very late, so if he was home, he’d need his sleep. I couldn’t call him just because I was curious.

  ***

  I didn’t have anything scheduled, so went back home to finish shoveling my driveway and sidewalk. Someday, I hoped to buy a snow blower like most of my neighbors. Maybe. If there was any money left after I did some house repairs, like fixed my leaky sink drain. In the meantime, I would count it as a workout.

  The temperature rose as I worked. As the snow got wetter, so did I, partly from sweat and partly from melting snow. When I’d finished shoveling, I needed a shower and a change of clothes. I put a load in the washer and went to fix myself some lunch.

  I opened my refrigerator and stared at the mostly empty shelves inside. Damn, I still haven’t gone grocery shopping.

  I found a frozen entrée in my freezer, so heated that in the microwave and made tea. A box of ice cream bars yielded one remaining, so that took care of dessert. I finished off the quick meal and headed for the store.

  I filled my basket and had almost finished checking out when I heard a familiar voice.

  “See, Mommy, I told you, it’s the lock lady.”

  “Yes, dear. I see her.”

  I turned to see Martha and Sally next in line behind me. I grinned at them and waved, then turned back to swipe my credit card and sign for my food.

  “Everything okay so far?” I asked Martha as the bag boy loaded my cart with the checked bags.

  She nodded, then her face crumpled and she turned away, pretending to be very busy loading her groceries onto the conveyer belt. The clerk sent me a worried look, but continued scanning Martha’s items.

  My heart pounded. Had Frank been back in spite of the restraining order? No way could I leave now until I knew she and Sally were safe.

  Sally watched her mother and started crying in sympathy.

  “Martha, what’s wrong?” I asked.

  She put the last items up and turned back to me. “Frank was killed in a car accident last night,” she said. “I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

  “Oh, my goodness,” I said and reached out to hug her. “I’m so sorry. I mean, I know he wasn’t good to you, but still…”

  “Yeah,” she said, sniffing and pulling Kleenex from her pocket. “But he was still my husband and his job was our only income. And our car was totaled, too.”

  The clerk coughed and said, “I’m sorry to interrupt, Ma’am, but people are waiting. Your total is $56.13.

  “Of course,” Martha said, digging out a credit card. She swiped it, but it was rejected. She tried another and that was rejected as well.

  Martha frowned, blushing. “They worked yesterday. I—I don’t have that much cash. Only enough for the taxi home.”

  My credit card was still in my hand. On impulse, I reached out and swiped it, then signed for her food.

  “Oh, but I can’t let you do that,” Martha objected, her face growing even redder.

  I sent her a smile. “Don’t worry about it. You can pay me back when you can.”

  “Oh, I will,” she promised. “Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’ll call my credit card company and figure out what’s wrong as soon as I get home.”

  “Let me help you with those groceries.”

  “I have to call a taxi, first.” She started toward the customer service desk.

  “I can drop you at your house, Martha,” I said. “It’s not out of the way.”

  “Are you sure it’s no trouble?” she asked, a hopeful look on her face.

  “No trouble,” I assured her.

  We went outside and I helped her put her groceries in my van. Sally immediately climbed into the back bucket seat and buckled herself in, then sent me a shy smile through the window. My heart jumped
in response. What a little sweetheart she was. Would I ever have a daughter like her?

  “Do you have help with making funeral arrangements and stuff?” I asked, as we drove to Martha’s house.

  Martha nodded, near tears again. “My folks and my sister are helping.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad you have family nearby.”

  “Mom’s active in her church, so she knows the pastor well. I was just going to have it at the funeral home, but Mom insists on the church. I doubt Frank would care.”

  “Did you call your insurance company about the car?” I asked.

  She chewed her lip and nodded. “They said they’d cancelled our policy three months ago for non-payment of the premium.”

  “Oh, oh.” I glanced at her wan face. Were they really that broke?

  “Frank always got the mail and took care of all the bills. So I had no idea he didn’t pay it.”

  “So now you have no money and no car?”

  “Don’t worry,” she said, sending me a wry smile. “I used to work as a waitress and was good at it. Waitresses are always in demand. Frank didn’t want me to work outside the house. I think he was just jealous of any attention I got from men at the restaurant where I used to work. I’ll get a job as soon as we get the funeral over with.”

  At her house, I helped her carry the groceries inside. Sally insisted on taking a bag and Martha handed her one of the lighter ones.

  Several casseroles sat on her porch with notes on them. “It looks like you’ve had company. Neighbors always do this here,” I said. We took those into the kitchen as well.

  “That’s so nice,” she said, reading note after note with tears in her eyes.

  “If you need help with anything, call me,” I said as she walked me to her door.

  She nodded and I got into my van. With a wave, I drove off.

  So much for not getting involved in my client’s problems.

  ***

  I went back to my house, put away all my groceries and then spent a couple hours on vacuuming and cleaning. My house gets cleaned when I don’t have any jobs scheduled, whether it needs it or not. Usually it needs it, badly.

  By the time I’d finished, I needed a break, so made a pot of tea and dished myself up some of the butter-brickle ice cream I’d bought this morning. I sat at the table, savoring the treat. My mother took that opportune moment to call me. She and Dad lived in a nice home in a suburb about fifty miles from me. Dad had a busy dental practice and Mom kept busy assisting him part time and did volunteer work, so I didn’t see them often.

  “You haven’t called me in two weeks,” she said, starting the conversation with her usual guilt trip.

  “Sorry, Mom. I’ve been busy.”

  “Doing what?”

  I sighed. “Working, Mom. Various jobs, as usual.”

  “Uh, huh. And dating, I hear.”

  Oh, oh. Since they used to live here, Mom still has some local friends. Which of them saw me out with Chance? “Mom, I’m twenty five years old. I have a right to date if I want to.”

  “Huh. And I have to hear about it from Mrs. Carrington. Makes me look stupid and like my own daughter doesn’t talk to me.” Her voice had a definite complaining note now. Time to apologize.

  “Sorry, Mom. I just met the guy. You know I’d tell you if anything serious was going on in my life.”

  “She said you were dancing with him and she even saw his car at your house,” Mom said accusingly.

  I heaved a sigh, not caring if she could hear it over the phone line. “Mom, he works for the sheriff’s department. When he came to my house, it was to question me about a murder case he’s working on. It wasn’t a romantic visit in the least.”

  “A murder case?” Mom squeaked, alarm in her voice.

  “Surely you watched the news and heard about the murders in our little town?”

  “Well, yes, I did see that, but I had no idea…why did he question you about them?”

  I gave her the thumbnail version of the murders and what they knew so far, being careful to only include what had been in the papers. I was pretty sure Chance hadn’t told me anything more than what was public knowledge, but still…I didn’t want Mom to start thinking I had an inside track to the police, or she’d start bugging me for updates on a daily basis. I sure didn’t want that.

  “Don’t worry, they’ve matched the DNA now, so I’m not a suspect or even a person of interest anymore,” I assured her.

  “What do you mean, ‘anymore?’ Were you a suspect or person of interest before?”

  “Only because I happened to be called to open that car, so I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, Mom. I didn’t do anything wrong. And it’s all straightened out, now.”

  “Good. So, are you coming for Thanksgiving dinner next week? Ken and Sarah are flying in from Phoenix on Tuesday.”

  I supposed I couldn’t get out of seeing my brother and his wife. After all, they only came to Minnesota once or twice a year, and never in the winter anymore. After being raised here, Ken had decided he’d never endure another northern winter. So Mom went to his house for Christmas instead. I usually opted to stay home, not having extra money for airfare lying around.

  “Sure,” I said. “What time do you want me?”

  “We’ll eat in mid-afternoon. Ken says we’re going out for a big breakfast in the morning, but you know them, it’ll probably be nine or so before we eat.”

  “Okay.”

  “Bring your new friend if you want, so we can meet him.”

  “Mom, I really don’t know him well enough to invite him to meet my family. Besides, I have no idea what he has planned.”

  “Well, ask him anyway,” Mom said.

  We said goodbye and hung up. So now I’d never hear the last of this, whether or not I brought him. Damn Mrs. Carrington. I hadn’t seen her. So when had she seen us? And why had she driven by my house to see him here? Maybe I should move to a big city where nobody paid any attention to their neighbors.

  I’d barely tucked my phone in my pocket when it rang again. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Martha.

  I could hear her crying as she tried to talk. “I’m sorry to call you, Cassie, but I don’t know what to do.”

  “That’s okay, Martha. What’s the problem?”

  “My credit card company says both my cards are maxed out! Frank and I never charge more than we can pay off each month, so we won’t get charged their high interest rates. How can that be?”

  “Do you still have both cards?”

  “Yes, you saw me try to use both of them at the store.”

  “Did you give your card numbers to anyone? Have you bought anything on the internet or over the phone?”

  “No, I never do that. I’m sure Frank never did either.”

  “Did Frank have copies of those cards too?”

  “Of course. He used his for gas and stuff.”

  “Did the police give you Frank’s cards?”

  “No,” she said, sobbing harder. “I don’t know what happened to them.”

  “Didn’t the police give you the things from his car when they towed it in? And his pockets?”

  “Not yet. What am I going to do, Cassie?”

  “Don’t worry about it, Martha. You’re not responsible for anything you or Frank didn’t charge. I’ll stop over and help you sort it out, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  ***

  I decided to give Chance a call. “What’s the status of Frank’s belongings from his car? Did you find his credit cards?”

  Chance said nothing for a moment, then, “Why are you asking, Cassie? I can only give out that information to his family.”

  “Martha says she didn’t charge much on their credit cards, but they’ve been maxed out. She’s very upset and called me. I’m going over to try to calm her down and I was hoping to give her an update. Or could you call her?”

  “I was just heading out for some lunch. I’ll stop over there and talk to her myself.”<
br />
  “Great, Chance. I’ll see you there in a few minutes, then.”

  I pulled into Martha’s driveway right behind Chance and we went up to the door together.

  Martha’s eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. She looked at me and then at Chance, her eyes widening in fear. “You called the cops? Why?”

  “Don’t worry, Martha,” Chance said. “I just want to help. I brought you Frank’s personal things and the stuff from his car.” He handed her a plastic bag.

  Still looking worried, Martha stepped back to allow them inside, closed the door and waved them to the kitchen.

  They sat at her table, where she had some papers laid out. She opened the bag Chance had given her and then dumped it out on her kitchen counter. When she found Frank’s billfold, she quickly opened it and searched through it.

  “You’re having a credit card problem?” Chance asked.

  “Yes,” she said, frowning at me. “You told him?”

  “Yes,” I said. “He can help you, Martha. Don’t worry, it’ll be okay.”

  Martha looked up from searching the bag, dismay on her face. “All Frank’s cash and credit cards are gone. His checkbook isn’t here, either.”

  “I was afraid of that,” Chance said.

  My brows dipped. “You mean someone stopped and robbed Frank after his accident? How very morbid to steal from a dead man!”

  “Morbid, indeed.” Chance nodded and turned to Martha. “I hate to have to tell you this, but I don’t think Frank died in an accident. I think he was murdered.”

  Martha sank into her chair as though her legs had given out. “Murdered? Who would want to kill Frank? I know he was mean to me, but murder?”

  “Oh, my God. What is going on in this town?” I exclaimed.

  “I suspected as much when I saw the accident scene this morning,” Chance said. “But the missing money, checkbook and credit cards confirms it.”

  “So what do we do now?” Martha asked, a bewildered look on her face.

  “First, we need to call your credit card company and your bank. Do you have your credit cards?”