Once again, a deep, heaving sob followed by a wail and another sideways collapse into her great aunt’s lap brought the questions and answers to a halt. Joe was going to reserve his judgment if it killed him, but he couldn’t help thinking that Harry Kerr was way luckier than he had a right to be, and that despite everything, he had a wife who had continued to love him. That didn’t mean she couldn’t have killed him, if it turned out that anyone had, but it was beginning to sound like so could half of Waite County.
Chapter Six
Joe made it all the way to his truck before his phone rang. He took a deep breath, turned around and leaned his back against the door, foot braced behind him. He hadn’t realized until that moment of relaxation, just how tired he was.
He pushed the connect button on the phone, noting as he did that it was Frank Haney calling. “You got anything for me?” he asked.
“Hey, boss. We found the phone, and Marla took it in to get somebody started processing it. We also found a pretty good sized parking lot down a trail behind the swimming pool. It enters off a county road behind the property, so you could have an army coming and going without anybody in the main house seeing a thing. There’s also a small poolhouse back in behind the trees and what looks like maybe a gardener’s hut.”
“Damn.” Joe leaned all the way back against the truck and lifted his gaze to the sunny, blue sky overhead. “You see any sign of somebody else being out there?”
“Plenty. There’s car tracks, shoe tracks, lawnmower tracks, wheelbarrow tracks, and a few tracks we couldn’t tell what the hell they belonged to. We made plaster casts of anything that looked significant. You talked to Arnie?”
Joe perked up, brought his gaze back down to earth, and squared his stance up on both booted feet. “Not for a while. Should I?”
“Well, Marla called. Said it looked like Arnie was making some progress when she stopped by. He was looking real hard at something on the guy’s neck.”
“Really?”
“Oh, and the best part. We found something else while we were rummaging around in the bushes looking for that phone. There was a picture, looked like it blew in under a bush.” Frank paused, then said slowly and distinctly, “Very recently. Very. It’s in almost perfect condition. And you won’t believe what it’s a picture of.”
Joe took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He was used to Frank’s long, drawn out stories, but, Lord, the man could try the patience of Job. And Joe was not Job. “Are you going to tell me, Frank?” he asked, trying to control the snarl he felt coming on.
“It was a nude shot of Mr. Kerr in bed with a young lady who was not Mrs. Kerr,” Frank answered promptly, realizing that he might have pushed his superior just a little too far.
“The hell you say.” Joe paced across the driveway, wheeled and paced back. “Could you recognize her?”
“She looked real familiar. All of us thought we’d seen her somewhere, but we couldn’t place her. Marla took that back with her, too, so maybe they know more by now.”
“Well, this thing isn’t getting any less complicated, is it?” Joe scrubbed his free hand across the back of his neck, feeling the weight of the day pressing in on him. Too much drama, too much emotion, too many unanswered questions. “Are you done out there?”
“I think so. Todd and I were thinking of grabbing some lunch and then going back on patrol if you didn’t have anything else in mind for us.”
“That sounds good. Something in this day needs to get back to normal. I guess I’ll head into the office and check in with Arnie, and maybe get a look at that picture. It’s got to have something to do with all of this, or it wouldn’t have been there.”
“Yeah,” Frank agreed. “That’s what I was thinking. My gut’s starting to tell me this looks more like retribution than natural causes.”
Joe expelled a long sigh. “Boy, I hate it when you say what I’ve been trying not to think.”
Frank laughed. “Well, you can take consolation in how many times my gut’s been wrong over the years. Maybe that picture just gave him a nice, simple heart attack.”
“We can all hope,” Joe said dolefully. Then he hit the button to end the call, turned to get into his truck and ran, quite literally, into the soft, feminine curves of the body blocking his path.
“Pardon me,” he said, his arms automatically encircling her to stop her from going to the ground.
Jolted by the unexpected physical contact as much as by the collision with what felt like a tree trunk, Jesse reeled backwards. “My bad,” she said pulling herself from the oddly comforting embrace. “Completely, my bad.”
Even as the words left her mouth, she thought that she really needed to stop hanging out so much with nineteen-year-olds and work harder at talking like an adult. Then she looked up and saw Sheriff Tyler standing stone-faced, staring down at her, his hands on his hips.
“You.”
The word pretty much summed up their relationship—she stumbling, he disapproving. And once again, they were off to their normal rocky start. Jesse shrugged. “I really just came to extend an olive branch.”
“Why do I get the impression that you’re planning to interject yourself into this investigation and would like to soothe my ruffled feathers before you turn around and piss me off all over again?”
Jesse’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped ever so slightly before she was able to correct herself. He was so on-target it was spooky. “Wow. You are so cynical.”
“And you are so disingenuous.”
She tilted her head and worked to hide the smile dancing inside her. “I’m not sure country sheriffs are even supposed to know words like disingenuous.”
He shifted his stance, and she thought she could almost see an answering non-smile in his eyes. “What do you want, Miss Camden?”
Okay, time to put up or shut up. Jesse took a deep breath, hating what she had to say, but knowing that she had to do it. “My mother tells me that I was overly zealous in my defense of her and ended up making things worse than they had to be. If she’s right, I owe you an apology.”
“I’m an officer of the law, Miss Camden. If I see someone staggering down the sidewalk at 10 o’clock in the morning, that’s public intoxication, and it doesn’t matter whose mother it is. That’s my job, and you have no right to question me or to interfere, period. I should have given your mother a ride home and arrested you.”
The volume and tenor of his voice had risen steadily, ending in a crescendo that left Jesse thinking that as apologies went, this one wasn’t doing too well. She took a deep breath, preparing to try again, but he held up a hand to stop her and continued talking.
“I realize now that she was still woozy from the dentist’s chair and her words were slurred because her mouth was still numb.”
Jesse took another deep breath to speak before he gave his head a sharp shake and stuck the flat of his palm just inches from her face.
“Had you not interfered, I would have recognized her condition at the time and I would have made sure your mother got home safely.”
“I was on my way to pick her up,” Jesse said in a rush before he could block her again. “She just got restless and left before I got there. She said she was walking to meet me.” Her voice dwindled as the thundercloud on his brow grew to intimidating proportions. “But she met you first.”
“I hope you’re not trying to defend the way you got in my face.”
She didn’t understand how such a velvety tone could seem so ominous, and yet, his did. “She’s my mother, and she wasn’t well, and you can be a scary dude.” Once again, she heard herself channeling SueAnn and gave herself a mental kick.
“Your actions were ill advised, and you got your mother a ticket that I hadn’t been planning to give her.” He took a step closer, dropped his voice even lower, and pointed a finger slightly south of her chin. “If you have a problem with me, you come to my office, and we will close the door and discuss it in private, quietly. Do not raise your voice to me, do
not question my authority in public, and do not ever interfere with me in the course of my duty. Is that understood?”
Jesse nodded, knowing that he was technically within his rights to ask for all that, and that she would never be able to comply. “I understand,” she said hesitantly. And she did. But understanding was not the same thing as doing.
“I can, and will, arrest you,” he warned.
“I understand.”
“I can’t accept your apology if I know you’re just going to do it again at the first provocation.”
She caught herself before she parroted the same words a third time. “I understand that I was wrong in my approach,” she amended. “I shouldn’t have said what I said, the way I said it. I shouldn’t have been so confrontational. I was overly protective of my mother, and it caused me to overreact. And I apologize.”
“That, I can understand. And I can accept that apology.”
Jesse smiled, relief flooding her. This had apparently been bothering her more than she had realized. “Great. And I really do mean it. I’ve been kind of embarrassed for a while, but I didn’t know how to approach you.”
“I understand that, too.” He nodded and continued in that soft voice that managed to carry menace in its undertones. “And I would imagine that you have similar protective feelings toward Vivian Windsor. She was almost your mother-in-law at one point, I believe.”
“Uh,” Jesse breathed the word out on a sigh. There was a “gotcha” coming, and she had no defense against it. She did have ulterior motives. And, unfortunately, they both knew it.
“And if you think Vivian is being threatened,” he continued, “physically, emotionally, or any other way, you will come to her defense.” He planted his fisted hands on his hips. “That’s why you’re here now. You heard something that you thought might affect her, and you came rushing over.”
“It’s what friends do. I had no intention of bumping into you while I was here. I had no intention of getting involved in anything. I just wanted to make sure Vivian was all right.”
He nodded again, while his eyes stayed focused on her like a cobra watching its next victim. “And since you’re a friend of the family, I’d like to ask you to do something for me.”
“Okay,” she said cautiously, reminding herself that you don’t look away when the cobra has its head raised and its hood spread.
“Until we have completed our initial investigation, the Kerr house will be taped off.”
“Like a crime scene?” Jesse asked, interrupting.
He nodded again. “Until we have determined the cause of Harold Kerr’s death. I’ve already asked Mrs. Windsor if Mrs. Kerr could stay here for a night or two, until we’ve released the house. Would you please tell her that I will be sending a deputy, Marla Murphy, to accompany Mrs. Kerr to her house to pick up whatever she needs for the next day or two? Deputy Murphy should be here in an hour or so.”
“Okay.” Jesse’s head was spinning with unasked questions and unwanted thoughts. She had felt the effects of death at an age when mortality is still unreal, a story heard and not really believed, until it happens to you. Now, something possibly much worse was happening to people close to her. People she considered family.
“Were there any signs of violence?” She had no right to ask, but she couldn’t help herself. He didn’t have to answer, but he did.
“None at all.”
“But still?” There was more to it. She could see questions, doubts, and something more—something she couldn’t name—in the almost black eyes of the sheriff.
“He was a young man,” Joe Tyler said, agreeing with the question she hadn’t finished. “Too young a man for a heart attack. Too good a swimmer to drown. Too satisfied to kill himself. So, what happened? This, Miss Camden, is what we call a mystery.”
Chapter Seven
Jesse stood watching him drive away. His parting words lingered like a punch in the stomach, the vague ache more of dread than of pain.
Sometimes, something happened in your life that you knew was going to change everything. None of this had anything to do with her, and yet this was one of those times. An earthquake happens halfway around the world. The earth tilts ever so slightly on its axis, and it may be decades before you realize it, but nothing will ever be quite the same again. She didn’t want to think that this was her earthquake, but that vague ache of dread wasn’t going away.
Then, remembering that she had a message to deliver, Jesse turned on her heel and walked back up the broad, terraced steps toward the front entrance of the Windsor Mansion. Built nearly a century earlier by the first Windsor oil baron, and passed down to the first son since, it was one of the grandest gems of the Oklahoma oil boom era. The house, massive and isolated, was a part of Vivian’s armor, her shield against the world. No one, not even her best friends, intruded on her here without an invitation.
Poor Viv, Jesse thought as she climbed, she must be reeling from the invasions of the day, each one bringing worse news than the one before. Halfway up the garden steps, where each broad, flat plateau was bordered by formal landscaping that discouraged wandering from the path, Jesse heard the sound of a car engine approaching much too quickly.
She turned and her now chronic dread escalated at the sight of an unfamiliar black Cadillac headed up the drive to the front entrance. Whoever it was, he was in one hell of a hurry to get there. Taking a deep breath, Jesse forced herself to stop thinking like Vivian. You can’t hold the world at bay, especially when everything in your world was turning upside down.
Hurrying, she reached the top of the steps in time to greet the new arrival as the car came to a stop. It took her only moments to recognize the man who got out and turned a harried gaze on her where she still stood at the top of the garden stairs.
“Is Bliss here?” Bill Marshall demanded.
One of the last people on earth that Jesse would have expected to arrive on Vivian’s doorstep was Harry Kerr’s old business partner. Jesse didn’t so much know Bill Marshall as she knew of him. He had been the businessman, and some said the brains, behind the original dealership. Harry had been the salesman, and when the partnership dissolved in acrimony, Harry had walked away the winner. Marshall had been the one left out in the cold.
“Where’s Bliss?” he demanded again.
“Uh, she’s inside,” Jesse answered, too surprised to ask any of the questions tumbling inside her head.
“Could you help my wife into the house? I’m going to go find Bliss.”
He was halfway to the door before Jesse could blink. “No!” She hurried around the car and across the drive, prepared to chase him down if she had to.
“Excuse me?” He stopped with his hand on the doorknob, looking at her like a child who’s just heard “no” for the first time in his life and doesn’t know what to do with it.
While he hesitated, Jesse caught up. “You can help your wife out of the car.” She slid her hand onto the doorknob and turned her body so that she blocked the doorway. “I’ll go find Vivian and let her know you’re here.”
She hadn’t noticed his wife in the car, but assumed she was still in the front seat. And if Jesse remembered correctly, Mrs. Marshall was confined to a wheelchair and probably wouldn’t appreciate being dumped at the door by her husband.
Whatever Marshall’s business was with Bliss, it could wait for the length of time it took him to bring his wife into the house. Which, conveniently, would give Jesse time to prepare Vivian for a new invasion, one that promised to be as interesting as it was unexpected.
Once he moved away from the entry, Jesse let herself inside, shut the door behind her, and hurried to find Vivian. The last thing she wanted was to explain why anyone had entered the house unannounced. The other last thing she wanted to do was to pass on the sheriff’s message, but that wasn’t something she could help either.
When Jesse entered the library, the two ladies sat together on the sofa. Vivian seemed irritable, but determined, and Bliss appeared to be stil
l reeling from the combination of her husband’s death and the sheriff’s questioning. They should probably both be in bed and off limits to visitors, no matter how determined those visitors were. A new chilled bottle of champagne sat on the coffee table in front of them, which seemed like a pretty good idea to Jesse. Another good idea would be a moat and drawbridge around this castle.
“Grab a glass off the sideboard and join us,” Vivian said when Jesse entered. “We’re doing our best to put this damned day behind us.”
“Not so fast, I’m afraid.” Jesse moved into the room. “This damned day just seems to keep on coming.”
“Oh, good God, what now?” Vivian demanded.
Bliss whimpered and refilled her glass.
Hating to pass on her news, but knowing there was no choice, Jesse said as gently as she could, “Well, there’s a female deputy coming over in a little bit to take Bliss to her house to pack a bag for a day or two.”
Vivian’s chin tilted defiantly. “Why can’t you take her?” If Sheriff Tyler were still there, she might well have spat at him.
“Well, as I understand it,” Jesse explained gingerly, “the house is taped off. And my guess is that the deputy is the one who is allowed into the house, and anyone else has to be with her to go inside.”
While Vivian huffed indignantly and gathered her breath for a probable tirade, Jesse heard sounds in the entry hall behind her. “Oh, yeah.” She held up her hand to forestall Vivian. “And someone else is here.” The sounds behind her grew closer.
“Bill Marshall and his wife…” Jesse glanced over her shoulder and saw they were at the doorway. “…want to see Bliss,” she ended in a rush as Marshall stepped around his wife’s wheelchair and entered the room.
“Bliss!” He hurried past Jesse as Bliss sat her crystal flute on the coffee table and lifted her arms in greeting. He dropped onto the sofa next to her and gathered her into an embrace while Bliss collapsed against him and began heaving great sobs into the front of his suit coat.
Murder, Mayhem and Bliss (Myrtle Grove Garden Club Mystery Book 1) Page 6