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Pawsibly Guilty

Page 12

by CeeCee James


  “Maybe a USB?” Mary offered.

  “Yes, that’s it. I recall Reverend Bay looking at it and suddenly having a coughing fit. Andy clipped his cigar carefully, and as the blade disappeared, he asked the Reverend Bay if he was okay, and not to worry, he had the sure fix for it. I did think that was an odd comment, but I hardly had time to wonder because, just moments after Andy lit his cigar, he… he made a strangled cry and toppled over dead.” She glanced down and blotted under her eyes again.

  I felt terrible, and I could see Mary didn’t feel much better. “We’re sorry to put you through this.”

  “So sorry.” Then Mary did something impulsive and jumped up to give the woman a hug.

  Mrs. Fitzwater didn’t even hesitate and hugged her right back. “You’re a good soul,” she said and wiped her eyes.

  “Anything we can do to help—and I mean anything—you let us know. We’ll do what we can,” I said.

  “You girls are helping me so much right now. You have no idea the comfort it gives me to have as many heads trying to figure out who did this.”

  “We will get to the bottom. I promise you,” Mary said, patting her arm.

  My alarm buzzed in my pocket. “Shoot. It’s time to leave. Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice.”

  “Any time, dearies. It’s just me down here, and it get’s lonely. I love the company.”

  With promises to do lunch again soon, we hurried out to the car she had waiting and headed back.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  We walked inside the manor and ran upstairs to dress back into our uniforms. Mary met me in the hall.

  “Something really bothered me at our lunch today.” I smoothed my skirt down and straightened the apron. I still had trouble tying it, but finally, the bow didn’t look cockeyed like it had been done by a five-year-old.

  “What’s that?” Mary asked, redoing her ponytail.

  “Well, Mrs. Fitzwater mentioned the cigar guillotine and the reverend’s reaction. Remember how she said it looked like it had a USB and how we wondered if he might be getting extorted into investing?”

  “Yes?”

  “Maybe we’re digging into this too deeply. Maybe it’s as simple as Andy was threatening him.”

  “Yeah. He pulled it out of his special lapel pocket.” She raised an eyebrow. “But how did he kill him then?”

  I rubbed my forehead. “I’m not sure, and all this thinking is giving me a headache.”

  “Ha! I have so many comebacks for that,” she smiled snarkily. “But I’ll hold off for now.”

  We went on to our early evening chores. I couldn’t let my theory about Reverend Bay go. With a start, I remembered Mary’s comment about the lava rock being used in flower beds. I realized then I’d seen the rocks before. At Reverend Bay’s house, filling his flower bed. I needed to talk to him. Should I schedule a meeting? Drop by? Or just call?

  Mary had seemed quite comfortable showing up at his house. I knew I couldn’t do that. Calling him stressed me out as well. But what did that leave me? Trapping him at the church? I covered my eyes. My mom would never forgive me if I caused a scene at the church.

  I walked into the kitchen in search for Marguerite to ask for advice.

  “Hey, Missy,” Cook said, looking up from sugar-dipping homemade doughnuts. Vanilla and cinnamon spun in the air in a warm dance.

  “Have you seen Marguerite?”

  “She’s giving that temporary replacement of hers the tour. I’ll tell you what, that lady will be nothing but trouble. Mark my words. We’re better off without her.”

  “Oh, really?” That didn’t sound good.

  “That woman came in here already madder than a wet hen. I’ve never seen the like of it before. Why? What do you need Mar for?”

  “I needed some advice,” I said glumly.

  “Well, what am I? Chopped liver? I know some things too, you know.”

  I grinned. I definitely didn’t want to offend her. “I need to talk with Reverend Bay. There are some things that just aren’t adding up. But I don’t know the best way to go about it.”

  “How about I just you give his number, then?” She raised an eyebrow.

  Well that surprised me. “That would be great. I think. What do I say?”

  “Tell him you want a counsel appointment.”

  “Isn’t that a lie? I can’t lie to a reverend.”

  “A counsel appointment is for a talk. So that seems true to me. No?”

  I nodded. That made sense. She scribbled on a piece of paper and passed it over. “Here you go.”

  “How do you have this?”

  “I’ve known him for years. He’s a good guy. Still, he needs to practice what he preaches about redemption. Suffers from a guilty conscience.”

  “What do you mean? Good guy and guilty conscience don’t ring true to me.”

  “Haven’t you learned that some people walk around feeling like they always mess up? So they try as hard as they can to do the right thing because they feel like they’re always doing the wrong thing? They second guess everything they say, worry about every decision they make. That’s Reverend Bay. Heaven help him if he ever does royally screw up. I doubt he’d be able to live with himself.”

  “So if he did—”

  “Guilt would eat him alive, I’m sure. He’s a good one. I wish he’d be less hard on himself, but there it is. I always say it’s the people that never feel guilt you have to be wary of.”

  I glanced at the paper. This would be the first time I confronted someone by myself. I started up the stairs and paused at the giant chess piece. I stared into the horse’s large wide eyes. “I can do this, right?”

  Breathing deep, I dialed the number. As it rang, I chewed my thumbnail.

  “Hello?”

  My heart fluttered in my chest. “Hello, Reverend Bay. This is Laura Lee. I was curious if I could make a counsel appointment with you.”

  “A counseling appointment?” I could hear the confusion in his voice.

  “Yeah. Er—”

  He interrupted me. “Laura Lee, what’s this about, really?”

  I knew asking for an appointment was a bad idea. On to plan B. “Well, I have some questions, and I didn’t want to show up unannounced.”

  “Ask them now, then.”

  “Now?” I swallowed. “Okay.” I took a deep breath and then blurted out. “I remember you saying you couldn’t get the gate to open the night of the dinner party. And we did discover a bunch of lava rock jammed into the track. But you know where else I’ve seen that rock?”

  Silence was my answer. I continued on. “At your house, Reverend Bay. Around your lilies you were proud of.”

  He released his breath like a popped balloon.

  I nervously waited for his response. Would he take off? Should I just call the police?

  “Laura Lee, I have a confession.”

  My hand gripping the phone felt sweaty as I pressed it to my ear. This was it!

  “I told you that I had been involved in a bad investment. Andy was meeting me that night with the memory stick of my interactions. The deal was that he would give me the stick if I were to give him fifty thousand dollars. That might not seem like a lot to you, but it was more than I could ever come up with. He told me to steal from the tithes. I could never do that.”

  “Where did you come up with the money for the investment?” I asked.

  “That was my wife’s money. It was her inheritance from her grandparents. Our church is an old building, well over a hundred years. Sadly, it’s in a horrid state. We had a quote for the repairs, and it came to well over two hundred thousand dollars. We were hopeless until someone directed us to Andy. With his well-known name and his confidence, he could turn us a huge profit if I invested, so, foolishly, without talking to my wife, I went ahead and did it.”

  “And he was blackmailing you so he wouldn’t tell your wife?”

  “That is correct. That night I came to dinner, I thought I might be able to r
eason with him. I knew he was bringing it, and I wanted to stall him. So I filled the gate with rock, thinking it would take a while to repair it and give me time to rationalize with him.”

  “I see.” I really wanted to keep up the suspicion, but my gut was telling me he sounded sincere.

  “And then the tragedy struck, and the poor man died. But not before he’d flaunted the USB memory card at me. It was in the cigar guillotine. In the ensuing chaos, I confess, I pulled the USB from the cutter. It seems at some point, I lost my rosary. I’m so sorry for lying to you.”

  “Why did you meet with Clint at the station?” I sharply asked.

  “Clint worked with Andy. He threatened me with extortion, and I was telling him it was over. I gave him back the USB memory with a few choice word where he could stick it, and then went straight home and confessed to my wife.”

  “She knows?”

  “Yeah. And soon, everyone will know. I simply can’t keep this hidden any longer. I’ll be calling the police right after this and my church. In a way, I should thank you girls. I really couldn’t live with myself these last few weeks.”

  Well, it wasn’t the answer I wanted, but I was oddly happy all the same. I heard footsteps coming down the stairs toward me, so I hastily said goodbye.

  After I hung up, I saw Marguerite heading down, leading a woman with a bowl haircut and very thick glasses.

  “Ahh, Laura Lee. I’d like you to meet Patty. She will be taking over for me temporarily while I’m gone next week. Patty, this is Laura Lee, one of our very valuable housekeepers.”

  My chest glowed at her introduction. I smiled and nodded. “How are you?”

  Patty smiled stiffly. “I’m fine, thank you.” Then she turned to Marguerite. “Do you normally allow your staff to chat on the phone during work hours?”

  I stammered an apology as Marguerite paled and answered, “It’s not a normal action.”

  “Wonderful,” Patty said. And then back to me. “You weren’t talking to a lover, were you? I detest relationship drama. So messy.”

  I shook my head. “No, not at all.”

  “Good. Did you know romantic strife is the number one motive in murder? It’s why I’ve stayed single for these last sixty years. I’ll kick off when I’m good and ready, thank you very much. And how about you?” Patty stared at Marguerite.

  Marguerite’s eyes narrowed, and she declined to answer. “If you could follow me down to the kitchen. Laura Lee, please check the laundry.”

  I hurried to the laundry room, more confused than ever. I thought I’d been on the right track. Now, who could it be?

  And, as Patty’s comments ran through my mind, an idea came to me.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I pulled a pile out of the dryer and threw it on the folding table before swapping the washing machine. After I had a new load started in both machines, I started to fold.

  This honestly was my favorite chore in the house. Everything was soft and smelled so good. And the warmth. Even now, in the summer, I loved it.

  I took a deep sniff of a towel and started folding it. This gave me a lot of time to think. Right now, I was putting together some missing pieces that I’d overlooked because I’d been so focused on the obviousness that was Reverend Bay.

  Mary came in with an armload of dirty towels. “Sweating away in here, are you?” she teased. “While I’m working on bathrooms.”

  I smiled, happy to see my sounding board. “You know, Mary, I’ve been thinking about our lunch again.”

  “Oh, serious voice. Okay, lay it on me.” She hopped onto the drier.

  “You know how we suspected the reverend?”

  She nodded.

  “I had a talk with him just now, and I don’t think that theory is going to pan out.”

  She lifted an eyebrow doubtfully, so I continued in a rush, “He is guilty, all right. Guilty of investing his wife’s inheritance without her knowledge. And he’s the one that tried to jam the gate track. He even stole the memory stick out of the cigar cutter. But he didn’t kill Andy Fitzwater.”

  “How can you be sure? Maybe he’s lying.”

  “Maybe,” I agreed. “But the phone call sounded like the confession of a guilty man who wanted a clean conscience. He’s calling the police right now. Plus Cook gave a pretty good character reference for him, and I trust her.”

  “What about his meeting with Clint at the train station? Those are the actions of a guilty person.”

  “I asked him about that too. After all, I saw him give something to Clint.” I grabbed a towel and shook it out. “He told me he met with Clint to tell him he was done with being extorted, and Clint could tell who he’d like. Apparently, Clint was still trying to squeeze him. They got into an argument, and Reverend Bay gave him the USB stick, along with a few angry words. He left there and went home to confess to his wife.”

  Mary nodded. “That’s pretty believable. So where does that leave us?”

  “Well, then we had a feeling about Clint Miller. It seemed like he had his finger in everything. No matter where we went, there was a link leading back to him.”

  “Yeah. That’s right.”

  “The main roadblock I keep running up against is what would Clint’s motive be? I mean, I’m pretty sure he didn’t like Andy. But Andy consistently brought him money to move through Clint’s investment firms in Las Vegas in their crazy financial schemes. Andy was his cash cow. Other than being an arrogant jerk, I didn’t see what wrongs Andy committed against Clint. In fact, Clint even dated his ex-girlfriend, so if anyone were to be offended, it would be Andy.”

  She leaned back and seemed to think about that.

  “Maybe we’re missing something else. You don’t think Madeline had something to do with it, do you?” I asked.

  She redid her ponytail, but I could see the wheels turning.

  “Because the more I think about it, the more it seems Madeline is at the root of each of these relationships.” I lifted a finger and started counting them off. “She worked with Andy and dated him. She knows Austin. She’s dating Clint. And she had a motive. A woman scorned.”

  “That blonde hair by the boots….”

  “Exactly.”

  “But how did she know about the hidden passageway?”

  “Well, that was a puzzle for me. But then I remembered Marguerite saying what good friends Andy was with Mr. Thornberry. She said that he must have let himself in the house at night because neither Butler nor Marguerite saw him enter. But we know the house is locked up tight, so that got me wondering how he entered. And I thought with his love of secret passages, Mr. Thornberry must have shown Andy the secret way. And I have a feeling it opens into the library, because that night when I came downstairs to look for Hank, the library door was cracked open.”

  Mary’s eyes flickered. “And he showed Madeline.”

  “At least part of it. They met just inside the entrance.”

  “But why have her come at all?”

  “I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I think it took time to get the evidence. Clint was the one gathering it, and they used Madeline as the go-between. Madeline would do anything for Andy, so it seemed like a perfect plan. Or so they thought.”

  “So Clint killed Andy?”

  I shook my head. “No. Madeline is the murderer.”

  Mary’s mouth dropped. “How?”

  “Remember how the tailor said someone came in and ordered a very special cigar guillotine for Andy? He said it was a woman.” I was warming up. “Mrs. Fitzwater said he died right after he lit his cigar. My guess is that the blade held the poison.”

  “So he clipped his cigar and directly inhaled it. Where would she have gotten it?”

  “You remember what you said? It’s a pesticide in every janitorial cleaning closet. Like a restaurant. Only most people aren’t murderers.”

  The two of us stared at each other.

  “We have to call the police.”

  Just then, Marguerite entered the laundry w
ith lines of exhaustion pulling down her mouth. “Good gracious. How will I ever relax on vacation knowing that woman is running my house?”

  Poor Marguerite. We blurted over the top of her, “We think we solved Andy’s murder!”

  She listened to the story and then stayed with us while we called the police. Of course, they wanted to come out right away to investigate the hidden tunnel.

  We decided to leave it to the police to give Miss Janice an update. We still had no proof yet, but I was hopeful we would have some soon.

  Later, that night, Marguerite hugged both Mary and me to her ample chest. “Well, lovies. I’m so glad this is settled before I leave tomorrow. Will you miss me?” Her eyes were teary.

  We both exclaimed our own versions of, “Yes! We’ll miss you!”

  She grinned and sniffled and teared up some more. “Aww, now I don’t even want to go.”

  Of course, we told her to go. But truthfully, the new woman, Patty, was a bit scary. I hoped we were going to be okay for the three weeks Marguerite was gone.

  It was only three weeks. We’d be okay. Right?

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Mrs. Fitzwater perched on the desk, her head turning as she admired all the books. We all preened around her, feeling as stealthy as Inspector Clouseau because we’d snuck her into the book club room. Poor Cook was not with us. Both she and Butler had been tasked with keeping Patty distracted for the next hour, and they’d come up with some plumbing emergency. It was hardly a lie. The plumbing in this behemoth left a lot to be desired.

  Mrs. Fitzwater smiled, flashing teeth so white they could have been out of a dentist commercial. “Well, darlings,” she said. “The police called me this morning with all the clues you gave them, but now I want to hear it from you.”

  Our little book club felt half the size without Marguerite. I missed her so much. We all did. She was the glue that held us all together.

  “What made you realize it was Madeline?” Mrs. Fitzwater asked, coming straight to the point.

 

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