Over Troubled Water: A Hunter Jones Mystery

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Over Troubled Water: A Hunter Jones Mystery Page 13

by Charlotte Moore


  “Me,” Mallory said, laughing. “I haven’t been home yet.”

  “Well, go home and wash up,” Novena said. “And you’d better shampoo about three times in a row. You know my Bobby used to be a volunteer firefighter, and I can tell you that smoke will stay in your hair for days unless you work on it, and in your clothes, too.”

  “I will,” Mallory said, “but let me show you the video first. I’ve already got it edited. I want to put one of them on the website.”

  “Not until the paper gets out,” Tyler snapped.

  “She knows,” Hunter said, feeling like a protective mom. “Let’s see the video, Mallory.”

  They all crowded around her desk as she opened it on her computer.

  “See,” she said, “The fire’s getting under control now, and the Emergency Management guys have shown up with cold drinks, and a crowd’s gathering over here. I don’t have their names, of course, but…”

  “Well, I can tell you one of their names,” Novena said, pointing at the screen with her polished fingernail. “Zoom in on that one right there. I cannot believe that so-and-so is standing there watching that fire. He didn’t know you were taking his picture, did he?”

  “Who is it?” Mallory asked, freezing the video and enlarging the screen to see the short man with big muscles and intense stare.

  “It’s Ike Morey,” Novena said.

  It was a busy morning at the paper. Mallory took the time to run home, scrub herself clean, and shampoo her long hair. She came back with her hair still wet and wrapped in a towel, and started doing the page design on the computer.

  Hunter got on the phone with Chief Backer and wrote the main news story while Tyler came up with a background story on the gym and an editorial about the volunteers who had been ready to pitch in and keep the gym open.

  Novena kept on fuming about Ike Morey’s grinning face in the video.

  “If you’re not going to call Sam about that, I am,” she said to Hunter. “That man lives way on the other side of Cathay. What was he doing over here at the crack of dawn watching another man’s business burn down?”

  “You’re right,” Hunter said without taking her eyes off her computer screen, “I’m going to call him about it.”

  At Magnolia County High School, Tim Watkins was succumbing to temptation. It wasn’t just that the sheriff’s interest in Abomination was too good to keep quiet about. It was also that it gave him a reason to start a conversation with Shawnee Pickard.

  He sat down next to her at a table in the school library and passed her a note intended to start the conversation.

  “Do you have any idea who Abomination is?”

  He expected a negative shake of her head. That would be a start, though.

  She looked at the note, smiled, looked at him, and began to scribble in her notebook.

  Her note read. “Yes. We’ve been wondering when somebody would ask.”

  Suddenly, the light dawned.

  He whispered back, “It’s Kyle, right?”

  She giggled.

  “You two can socialize later,” the librarian said in a gentle voice. “This is supposed to be study time.”

  Tim sat there wondering what to do next.

  Shawnee’s brother, Kyle Pickard was the genius nerd of Magnolia County High School, the one who aced every test, won the blue ribbon at the science fair, and the countywide spelling bee as well. He was in ninth grade, but only because he had skipped two grades already.

  And Kyle Pickard was 12 years old.

  Sam and T.J. looked over Mallory’s shoulder at the video. She zoomed in on Ike Morey’s face. Hunter showed him Ike Morey’s half page ad on another computer screen.

  “Well,” he said. “I guess we’d better go talk with him.”

  Taneesha Hays was in her grandmother’s house.

  “Mama ’Rene,” she said. “I will never understand how you squeeze that tube and a perfect flower comes out.”

  “Practice makes perfect,” Irene Martin said. “It looks like you did a good job on the cake layers.”

  “Yes, but cake’s easy,” Taneesha said. “It’s the decorating I don’t think I could ever do.”

  “You can do whatever you set your mind too,” her grandmother said piping two dark green leaves by each magnolia. “I remember when you were worried about making the tennis team, and you wound up being state champion. In fact, I remember when you were fretting about whether Jeremy was ever going to propose or not. I imagine right now, you’re worrying that nobody’s going to catch that shooter, but I can tell you right now that prayers are going up all across this county, and he will be caught. You’ll be part of bringing justice to those people who were killed.”

  “I hope so,” Taneesha said.

  “I know so,” Mama ’Rene said. “Now, what do you want to be written on this cake?”

  “Oh, let me think!” Taneesha said.

  India Jackson was at work, and glad to be there. She had opened the window of her office so she could hear the chatter and laughter of the three-year-olds in the playground, and was looking over a catalog of picture books for preschoolers.

  It was good to focus on the bright colors and simple stories, but her mind kept shifting back to China. Maybe nothing at all had happened, she thought. Maybe China was just thinking about it, or having a little flirtation, and had bought those fancy things just in case.

  On the other hand, it could mean that the baby that had barely begun to develop was not Russell’s. She had made up her mind that she wasn’t mentioning it to anybody, though, and certainly not to Skeet Borders or anybody in the sheriff’s office.

  It would be different if she hadn’t heard that District Attorney announce to the whole world that her sister was pregnant.

  “Hey, Miss India,” one her aides said from the doorway. “Did you hear about the fire last night?”

  “What fire?” India asked.

  “The GetFit gym. It burned to the ground.”

  “Oh, that’s awful,” India said.

  Then she found herself wishing it had burned to the ground before her sister ever showed up there hoping to lose some weight and wound up turning into somebody beautiful who kept secrets.

  At noon, the paper had been sent back to the printers, and Hunter was getting ready to say her goodbyes when all manner of unexpected things began to happen.

  Mallory and Novena, who had disappeared briefly, came back together with trays stacked high with sandwiches from R&J’s, and Taneesha arrived with a beautifully decorated cake that had the words “Blessings on you and your baby,” written across it.

  Shellie came in holding a teddy bear with so many helium balloons tied to his paw that he floated upward to the ceiling when she put him down on Hunter’s desk. Ellie Bankston arrived in their van and had Skeet and Bub get a surprise from the back.

  “It’s the portable crib we had for the girls,” she told Hunter as they carried it in. “It’s old, but it’s still in good shape. Tyler thought you’d like to have it here when you come back to work.”

  Sam showed up with T.J.

  “You knew all about this, didn’t you?” Hunter asked him, brushing tears from her eyes and laughing at the same time.

  “He organized it,” Taneesha said. “And once we finish this food, he’s going to take you home.”

  “And you’re going to stay there,” Tyler said. “We’re not having that baby born in this office.”

  CHAPTER 14

  At one thirty, Sam and T.J. showed up at the Shape-Up Shack in Cathay, only to find it closed for the day. They headed to the Catfish Shack, where Lena informed them that Ike was in Atlanta.

  “He’s gone up there to look at some equipment at a gym that’s closing, she said, looking a little ill-tempered. “If he buys some, he’s going to rent a truck and drive it back down here, and then I’m going to have to drive him back up there to take the rental truck back and pick up his car. I told him between the rental costs and what we’d lose here at the restau
rant, I didn’t see how he was going to save all that much, but that’s the way he is. Gets a notion and you can’t talk sense to him.”

  “What time did he leave?” Sam asked.

  “Oh, way early,” she said, “He was gone when I woke up at 6:30.”

  “When she said ‘way early’ that could have been 2 a.m., “T.J. said on the drive back to Merchantsville. “She was asleep. She didn’t know when he left. He could have set the fire, waited to watch the blaze and then left for Atlanta.”

  “More likely he saw the fire when he was coming across the bridge and went to take a look,” Sam said. “That was one big blaze.”

  “But he could have done it,” T.J. said.

  “Yes, he could have,” Sam said, “But I can’t see somebody committing that crime – along with the Abomination letter – and then putting a competitive ad in the paper the same week. Why would he even call attention to himself if he had done it and wanted us to think it was some fanatic out to kill random people?”

  “I think we should keep an eye on him,” T.J. said. “And question him when he gets back. He seems pretty sure of himself with the big advertising, and fixing up the gym and buying new equipment – like he’s been assuming GetFit wouldn’t reopen.”

  “We’ll keep an eye on him,” Sam conceded. “And we’ll question him. Now, before we go back to the courthouse, I want to run by Clearview Circle and check on the Chapman house. You want me to drop you off, or you want to ride with me?”

  “I’ll ride with you, but I thought that was all settled,” T.J. said. “Hasn’t he gone back to work?”

  “I’m just keeping an eye on the house,” Sam said. “Sunshine gave me a key in case we need to get in and check on things.”

  When they arrived at Clearview Circle, the Volvo was gone from the driveway, and there was nothing to see except that the lawn needed mowing.

  “Looks like he could at least get the lawnmower out,” Sam grumbled. “It’s not that big a yard to mow.”

  Hunter tried to take a nap, but she couldn’t get comfortable. She got up and checked the newspaper website on her computer, laughing despite herself when she saw Ike Morey’s grinning face in the crowd.

  Whether he was guilty of anything or not, she thought, he was certainly going to regret not having noticed Mallory Bremmer with her camera.

  She wrote at note to Nikki.

  They had a surprise party for me today before I left work. I’m officially on maternity leave now. I hope B.B. decides to come soon. Check out our website to see Mallory’s pictures of the big fire. That’s the gym that belongs to the guy who was wounded in the shooting. Just awful. The man who looks so happy in the crowd picture owns the only other gym in the county.

  Hunter hadn’t gotten an answer from Nikki in a few minutes, and she found herself preoccupied with the shootings at Foxtail Creek. It was bothering her, not just because it was a terrible crime, and unsolved, but because the investigation didn’t seem to be getting anywhere, and she hated Sam’s having that dark cloud hanging over him at a time that should be so happy.

  She began to write her thoughts down, starting with the Abomination letter. She brought the copy of it home from work in her stack of things she planned to work on, and she got it out to study it again.

  “Somebody trying to sound crazy,” she wrote, “But is crazy really in some way nobody knows. Funny writing style.”

  She picked up her cellphone and called Miss Rose Tyndale who answered on the second ring.

  “Could I come over for a few minutes,” she asked. “I need your opinion on something.”

  “Why, of course, Hunter,” Miss Rose said, sounding very pleased. “And you can certainly stay for more than a few minutes. I heard today was your last day at work.”

  “Well, an hour at the most,” Hunter said, looking at her watch. “Bethie gets home from school at three thirty, and she’s bringing a friend with her.”

  Ten minutes later, Miss Rose Tyndale was studying the copy of the letter from Abomination, having promised to keep it confidential.

  “This is abominable writing,” she said. “This has to do with that shooting, doesn’t it?”

  Hunter explained briefly.

  “Did you ever have an English student who wrote like that?” Hunter asked.

  “I’m sure I’d remember if I’d had one who tried to make himself sound like some kind of self-righteous monster,” she said, “Of course, I had plenty who scattered adjectives and adverbs all around like this, and I’ve had some of these terrible spellers.”

  “Funny thing is that the big words are all spelled right,” Hunter said.

  “Well, of course,” Miss Rose said, “Probably because the writer used the dictionary for those. Some bad spellers just worry about the longer words and don’t know what poor spellers they really are. They haven’t picked up anything from reading, the way most of us do. Look where the writer has used r-o-d-e for r-o-a-d and r-a-i-n for r-e-i-g-n.”

  “I noticed that,” Hunter said, “and you know this was done on a computer, so the writer could have used the spell-check on the computer, but it wouldn’t pick up a homonym.”

  “To me it has a fraudulent feeling” Miss Rose noted, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “We used to call it ‘putting on airs.’ It’s as if the writer were trying to copy some better style by a better writer. I think the writer meant to sound frightening, but I don’t think that the stupidity of it is deliberate or that the bad spelling is deliberate.”

  Hunter left in time to be home when Bethie arrived with Amelia.

  At four p.m. Tim Watkins showed up at Sam Bailey’s office, edgy and nervous.

  “I know whose avatar Abomination is,” he said to the sheriff behind closed doors. “But I hope you don’t have to tell anybody or talk to his parents. It’s a kid in our school who’s just 12 years old. He’s kind of a genius. His sister told me.”

  “Kyle Pickard?” Sam asked.

  Tim nodded. “You know him?”

  “He was in some of my daughter’s classes,” Sam said. “I don’t think he’s our villain.”

  “You don’t have to talk to him about it, do you?” Tim asked. “His sister already thinks it’s funny enough that he’s beating all of us.”

  “We’ll just forget about it,” Sam said with a grin, “But thanks for coming over to tell me.”

  Another letter from Abomination arrived the next morning.

  CHAPTER 15

  Postmaster Henry Burberry called Sam just after eight.

  “I have a letter to you like the earlier one,” he said. “Same envelope and handwriting. Same insufficient postage. Would you like to come pick it up.”

  “I’ll be right over,” Sam said, and got Taneesha to ride with him.

  As soon as they had the letter and were back in the car, he opened it and read it aloud.

  To Sheriff Bailey,

  The media hath ignored my warnings. My rain of terror turned to a wildly raging inferno of fire, but I mercifully spared lives by hurtling my bolls of lightning at a time when none would parish. If I strike again lives will be absolutely sacrificed Beware of lust.

  Abomination

  “A little shorter this time,” Taneesha noted.

  “And mailed this morning,” Sam said. “So maybe he’s not our arsonist, but just wants credit.”

  “Definitely looks like the same person,” Taneesha said, studying the envelope.

  “Yes. Are we getting anywhere with the Abomination avatar?”

  “I meant to tell you about that,” Sam said. “The avatar in the computer game belongs to a completely harmless high school kid. Total coincidence.”

  “Harmless high school kids have been known to commit crimes,” Taneesha said.

  “Trust me on this,” Sam said. “This kid is only a little older than Bethie, and a size smaller. He’s just very precocious.”

  Taneesha laughed out loud.

  “I won’t tell Jeremy,” she said. “He just got to Level 14 last night
, and Abomination has moved ahead.”

  “What’s worrying me,” Sam said, “is that we know that this character either did the shootings or knew they were going to happen, and he could have set the gym on fire as well, and in both cases Ricky Richards was a victim. I think we need to focus on Ricky, and I want to have a heart-to-heart talk with him.”

  “Get him away from Sasha,” Taneesha said. “Maybe he’ll know what that reference to lust is about.”

  Hunter was still in her nightgown, tired and restless at the same time, but mostly bored. She tried thinking through the shootings again, and wound up back at her computer.

  Annie Chapman, she wrote down, Nice harmless woman with nice daughter, bad crazy acting son. Daughter doesn’t seem to think he could possibly do harm..

  She stared at the computer a while, and thought about Sunshine Chapman’s staying at Hilliard House because her brother wouldn’t let her into the house she grew up in, changing the locks, and then letting him right back in.

  She went and took a shower, got dressed, and called Robin Hilliard.

  “Hey, Hunter,” he said, “Mallory just called about doing our feature story. Aren’t you off work?”

  “I am,” she said, “but I really want to talk with you about something. Are you busy?”

  “We just pushed last night’s guests out the door, and Colin’s gone grocery shopping. Come on over.”

  Twenty minutes later, she was at Hilliard House – just a few feet from the butler’s pantry where she had found the dead body of one Mae-Lula Hilliard and in the kitchen where she had her first head-on encounter with Sheriff Sam Bailey.

  Robin, who was Miss Mae-Lula’s nephew, had changed things so much that it was hard to imagine it was the same place. Hunter didn’t believe in ghosts in any case. She was there with a purpose.

  “Can you explain the Chapman family to me?” she asked Robin.

  He burst out laughing.

 

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