Driving across the river bridge to the smaller nearby town of Cathay, he tried to remember when Ike Moray had opened the Shape Up Shack. The one thing he was sure of was that it was two or three years before Ricky and Sasha Richards had remodeled the old basketball gym in Merchantsville to turn it into GetFit.
That had been good news for a lot of people, including Sam because the old building was in danger of demolition. When he was in his teens, it had been full of cheering parents and high school students during basketball season, but it wound up empty after the new consolidated county schools were built.
Then, after the usual hassle with the city’s planning and zoning board, it got a new life. Ricky and Sasha Richards bought it for commercial use. The old gym got a complete renovation on the inside and a fresh coat of paint with an attractive sign on the outside. What followed was a steady stream of customers ready to try everything from aerobics to yoga to weight lifting. A few had memberships with keys and came on their own schedules to work out while most came for classes, personal training or the popular weight loss group run by Sasha.
As they reached the Shape-Up Shack, Sam considered what bad news GetFit must have been for Ike Morey, whose smaller gym – on the same lot with the Catfish Shack – basically offered a few machines for building muscles and a shower in the back.
Bub interrupted his train of thought.
“It looks like he’s fixing the place up a little,” he said, “He must have gotten Tommy Hill to paint that new sign for him.”
“Looks like he’s got some customers, too,” Sam said, pulling into the parking lot.
They headed for the Catfish Shack first and waited in a line at the counter to order fried fish, hushpuppies and slaw.
They had just gotten to their table with their trays of food when Ike Morey came in, smiling. He was a short man with muscles that bulged out in all directions and tattoos on the muscles.
“Hey, Sheriff,” he said, “Good to see you. Hey, Bub! We’re not in any trouble with the law, are we?”
Sam had heard one version or another of that question many times before, but he managed a chuckle and thought to himself that Ike seemed happy enough to see them, not worried by their presence.
“No,” he said, “We just were in the mood for some of Lena’s hushpuppies.”
“You ought to come next door and see the gym when you get done,” Ike said. “I’ve been fixing things up.”
He came over and sat down with them.
“It was awful about Ricky Richards and all those folks getting killed,” he said. “How’s Ricky doing?”
Sam told him in some detail how Ricky was doing. He noticed that Ike’s attention was wandering before he finished.
“Well,” he said. “I guess he’s lucky to be alive. Now when you two get through here, stop by and see the gym. See, first I get people fattened up on all this good fried food, and then I get them in shape at the other shack.”
Sam had the feeling that Ike had said that same thing many times before.
“Let me ask you something as long as we’re here,” he said, lowering his voice. “What were you doing last Tuesday morning?”
Ike didn’t seem to make a connection to the crime at first.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Tuesday?” I guess…”
“Are you asking me for an alibi?” he asked. “Why me? Because I’ve got a gym? Hey, we were in competition, but that’s business. I didn’t have any personal problem with Ricky. He’s a good man. In fact, I even called and asked him if he had an extra bike, ’cause I was gonna ride with them that day if he did.”
“Thanks,” Sam said, making a note to check on that with Ricky Richards.
“Anyway,” Ike said. “I was right over there in that gym, working out like I do every morning. I’m afraid there wasn’t anybody there with me, but Lena can tell you I was there, ’cause I start every morning at seven, and right before eight she brings me a cold glass of orange juice before she starts to work over here.”
“You own a gun?” Sam asked.
“Yeah,” Ike said, looking really annoyed. “Always have. Got a permit, too. Not any assault rifle, though.”
“What do you think?” Sam asked Bub as they drove back.
“I don’t think he had anything to do with it,” Bub said. “But I think he’s hoping to get business away from them.”
“Let’s go talk to Ricky Richards,” Sam said.
Ricky seemed glad to have company.
“I’ve promised myself I’m not going to complain, seeing I’m alive,” he said, “but have you ever watched morning television? It’s awful.”
“I thought Sasha was just about living here with you,” Sam said.
“Well, she went to both of the funerals yesterday,” Ricky said with a grim look, “And I told her it was time for her to get some rest and take care of herself. Then it turned out that some of the women who were in her diet group wanted to help by keeping the gym open for us, so she’s going to meet with them this afternoon.”
“That’s great,” Sam said. “I came by to ask you something. Who volunteered to be in that cycling group? Were there any who weren’t with you last Tuesday?”
“No,” Ricky said, “We had a hard time pulling a group together, and for a while, it was just me and Annie and Jim. Sasha just didn’t want to. We made big plans last year about how we were going to ride together, but she just never got into it. Then China wanted to ride with us, so Sasha offered to lend her the bike and her gear. They were just about the same size.”
“So nobody else called?” Sam asked.
“Well,” Ricky said. “Ike Morey called a couple of weeks ago, but all he wanted to do was ride on the day the cyclists came through, and he thought I might have an extra bike lying around, which I didn’t. The way we left it was that if he found a bike he was welcome to join us. He said something about the team maybe making a stop at his restaurant for something cold to drink, but I told him the route didn’t go through Cathay. I don’t think he was all that interested after that.”
“You two get along pretty well?” Sam asked.
Ricky frowned a little. “Okay, I guess. We took away a lot of his business when we opened, but he’s driven away some business on his own, too, and, of course, we offer a lot more.”
“Did you or Sasha know about China’s being pregnant,” Sam asked.
“No,” Ricky said. “Sasha and I were talking about that last night. Sasha said she would have wanted China to check with a doctor before she started cycling long distances like that. She checked it out on-line, and some of the cycling sites say it’s fine, but we wouldn’t have wanted to take any risks. You ought to talk to Sasha about it because she said she couldn’t believe China even knew, or she would have been telling everybody.”
A young woman in matching pants and shirt arrived at the door.
“Time for physical therapy,” Ricky said. “Can we finish this later?”
Mallory felt good about having one of her best friends from high school back in town. She checked her schedule and called Sylvie at mid-morning, offering to bring a pizza.
Tyler seemed to have taken over completely, and Hunter, to Mallory’s surprise, didn’t appear to mind in the least. She wondered which of them she should talk to about the story she had in mind.
Sue-Ellen Larson, her father’s fiancée, had told her on Sunday night at supper that a group of GetFit gym members were getting organized to keep it open for Ricky and Sasha Richards.
“It’s just a matter of people taking shifts to keep it open,” Sue-Ellen had said, “With his leg injured and her wanting to be there for him, they just really need our help. Ricky’s parents are willing to keep the office open, but they need help from people who know how everything works. I think I’m finally going to get your dad in there to work out.”
“I’m going to help someway for sure,” Jack Bremmer said. “The Richards are good customers, and they were serious about insuring that place after all they
sank into it. I’d hate to see it have to close.”
Mallory hadn’t said so to Sue-Ellen, but she thought there might be a good human interest story in it.
She decided to pitch the story Hunter, who listened and nodded and agreed.
“That’s good,” she said. “Just make sure…”
“It doesn’t sound like an ad for the gym,” Mallory finished for her. “I know.”
Sam got back to his office to find his e-mail full of messages from T.J. Jackson. He asked Shellie to print them out and called Taneesha in to read each page after he did.
Garth Thurlow, it turned out, was 32. He was a high school graduate and had served two tours in Afghanistan in the army. There were no problems with his discharge. He had been a civilian for two years, unemployed most of that time. However, he was currently working as a security guard at a large plant that manufactured glass. He had a disastrous credit history and a monthly payment was being taken from his paycheck by the bankruptcy court. He had the same apartment complex address as Sunshine Chapman, who worked with a Macon marketing firm, and had a borderline credit rating.
“He’s got money problems, and she’s not doing that well,” Taneesha said. “Inheriting that house and money is a windfall for her, or I should say for them if they’re really getting married.”
“The Richardses aren’t doing so great either,” Sam said. “Looks like they’re behind on their loan from Georgia Federal.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Taneesha said, “but I can’t see Ricky arranging to have himself shot in the leg and three other people killed. Why are we even looking into their finances?”
“I just told T.J. to check everybody,” Sam said. “The one person I can see having a financial interest in the gym’s closing would be Ike Morey. He’s fixing his gym up fast, and he hasn’t got much of an alibi. His finances look okay, though.”
“The Catfish Shack is the money-maker. Ike Morey’s problem is bigger than fixing his gym up ,” Taneesha said. “I went there a few times. He finds ways to put his hands on the women, and he brags to all the men and wants to compare muscles. It wasn’t any accident than Ricky Richards got most of his customers. I’ve heard some people are going over there now, but they won’t stay once Ricky and Sasha open back up. What else have we got?”
“Russell Carson’s business seems to be solid,” Sam said. “He and his sister own the business and the house together. China was making about what I would have expected as a receptionist, but the Board of Ed has good benefits, and she had them both covered on her health insurance. She a $10,000 life insurance policy.”
“But no motive for Russell to kill her?” Taneesha asked. “Because if he did it, he’s the best actor I’ve ever seen. I thought that man was going to go crazy when he learned she had died.”
“Everybody I’ve talked with says he was devoted to her,” Sam said. “Going way back to high school. Skeet’s going to talk with China’s sister this afternoon by the way. He’ll make sure she understands that we didn’t mean for the D.A. to blurt out that information.”
“Did you know Skeet dated India for a while before he dated Tamlyn?” Taneesha asked, referring to Skeet’s late wife.
“That’s your time in high school, not mine,” Sam said with a grin.
“What about Jim Jordan?” Taneesha asked.
“Perfect credit rating,” Sam said. “Perfect job evaluations. The perfect man. Everybody liked him including his landlady.”
“Some of the local business people didn’t like him,” Taneesha said, “He could present problems for just about anybody who had to get a variance or wanted to put up a chain link fence.”
“You’re right about that,” Sam said. “But I don’t see anybody killing a bunch of people over a variance or a rezoning.”
“He didn’t have a girlfriend?” Taneesha asked. “Ever married.”
“If he did, nobody in city hall knew about it,” Sam said.
“Think he was gay, maybe?” Taneesha asked. “I could ask Robin and Colin if they knew.”
“You could,” Sam said, “I can’t see how that would have gotten him shot, but at least we could write off there being an angry husband out there.”
“Well, if I do ask, I’m not going to put it in writing, “Taneesha said, “Not and have Sanders Beale blurt it out at his next press conference.”
CHAPTER 11
A little before five, Mallory called Miss Rose Tyndale from work.
“One of my friends from high school is home, and I’m going over to have supper and visit with her,” she said. “I might be real late. We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
“Oh, it must be the Wagner girl,” her landlady said. “I heard she was home from Italy. And thank you for calling, dear. I know it’s none of my business where you go, but I do worry when it’s getting late, and I don’t see your little car in the driveway.”
“Well, don’t wait up,” Mallory said. “I’ll be fine.”
After she was off the phone, she noticed that Hunter was grinning.
“It’s just easier to let her know,” Mallory said, shrugging.
A half hour later, Deputy Skeet Borders rang the doorbell of the Jackson family home. China Carson’s older sister, India, had asked to meet there.
He had known India most of his life and dated her a few times in high school before he fell head-over-heels for Tamlyn, and India began to go steady with Burt Hilliard. That relationship had fallen apart years back when Burt went off to the University of Georgia, and she commuted to Georgia Southwestern. She ran a small daycare center now, and it seemed to be going well.
Tamlyn had been murdered during a time that Skeet tried not to think about much. It had turned out that she had some dark secrets, but she had still left him with the joy of his life, his little daughter, Madison.
He would have liked to catch up on India’s life, especially since he heard that she’d ended a long-term relationship with Charlie Mayo, but he wasn’t there to socialize.
“How is your mother doing?” he asked after she had invited him in and taken him to the comfortable old-fashioned den that he remembered from the dates they had in high school. There was the kind of sofa you sink into and two big overstuffed chairs, all covered in faded and flowered fabric. He chose a chair, and India curled up in the corner of the sofa. One of the Persian cats that Russell Carson had complained about came in and took a seat on the coffee table between them.
India was looking a little older but in a good way, Skeet thought. Her dark hair was down to her shoulders, and she was wearing jeans with a red silk shirt. He noticed that she was showing off her big brown eyes with makeup, and he wondered briefly if that was for him.
“Mom’s failing,” India said. “She talked for a little while after the stroke, but she was all mixed up. She doesn’t even recognize us. Harley says it wouldn’t make any difference to her if we put her in the nursing home, but she made us all promise that we never would, so we’re spending all her money on paying Martha Mae Harris to look after her. China and I were taking turns spending some nights here so Martha Mae can get a little time at home.”
She sighed.
“Now I’m thinking about just giving up my apartment and just moving back in,” she said. “Harley and his wife help as much as they can, but they’ve got kids, you know. And if I need to spend three nights a week over here and drop by on the other days, I might as well just move back into my old bedroom.”
“You’re a good daughter,” Skeet said. “I’m sorry you’ve had so much grief to deal with.”
“I’m doing what I have to do, but that’s not what you came here to talk about,” India said. “You want to talk about China, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Skeet said. “I understand she spent last Monday night here. I mean the night before the morning of the shooting.”
“Yes, she did,” India said. “In fact I’d been taking Mondays, but she said she’d take it because she was going to go bike riding early in the morn
ing, and if it worked out that she liked it, she’d want to plan her turns here around the practice times. She wanted to start from here, in town, I mean, and have her clothes here so she could come back and shower and change in time for work. Martha Mae comes in about 6 a.m. so it was going to work out pretty well.”
“So it was China’s first time with the cycling group?” Skeet asked, and India nodded.
“She wanted to do it when they first announced it, but Russell didn’t think they could afford one of those expensive bikes. Then Sasha offered to lend China her bike and her helmet and riding outfit, too.”
She sighed.
“I wish she hadn’t! For that matter, I wish I had told her I wouldn’t swap nights with her.”
“India,” Skeet said sympathetically, “You can drive yourself crazy thinking that way. It wasn’t anybody’s fault but the one who had that gun.”
“Are y’all getting anywhere on finding out who it was?” she asked. “I heard Andy Chapman got arrested, but he’s already back out.”
Skeet decided to take the easy way out of that one.
“He was on his way to work when the shooting happened,” he said. “Part of the problem we had with him was about his not letting his sister in the house. It pretty much belongs to her now, and he wanted to lock her out. He never was really arrested.”
“Poor Sunshine,” India said. “I like her, and I liked her mother, too, but Andy’s always been weird. So what else do you want to know from me?”
“Before we get into this next subject, I want to apologize to you for having to find out on television that your sister was pregnant,” Skeet said. “We didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“Taneesha called me,” India said. “It’s okay.”
She sat up on the edge of the sofa.
“I’ve been thinking about this, Skeet, and I guess we’ve got to have this talk. If Russell gets mad, then he gets mad. He’s not part of my family anymore anyway, and I’m not the only one who knows about it.”
Over Troubled Water: A Hunter Jones Mystery Page 10