by Kira Reese
“Follow me,” she said. “My name is Lila. Can I get you some coffee?”
Natalie told her yes and then asked if she could speak with her and her husband. Lila looked a little startled at first, and when Natalie introduced herself, she readily agreed. Three customers lingered in the café but were seated at the other end of the room. Lila followed Natalie’s gaze and stated that the three retired men would probably remain there for another hour or so. She smiled and left to get her husband, Jim Franklin, from the back. He came out to the table where Natalie sat and wiped his hands on his apron.
“I’m the head chef back there for breakfast,” he said by way of apology. “We were shocked about the death of Robert Douglas. He was a good husband and a good father.”
Lila shook her head back and forth in consternation. “He sure was and I feel so sorry for Dora and Jenny. I don’t know what they will do without him and without his income.”
Natalie agreed with them. “I am here to ask you about one of your customers. I’m not sure if he is a regular or not, but Jenny told me her father commented on his physical appearance when they left here the other night.”
Lila and Jim looked at each other and nodded. “It must be Mac Johnson,” said Jim.
“Do you mean a man who smells bad?” asked Lila. “If that is the case, then yes, it has to be Mac.”
Natalie concurred it was a man who had strong body odor. The Franklins mentioned he came in on occasion and were glad he wasn’t a regular, since they feared they would lose customers if he were.
“Does he come in weekly or monthly? How often does he come in, I mean?”
“He is here no more than once a month. When he does come in it is the first of the month. We figure that’s when he gets some kind of pension or money that comes in regularly about that time,” said Jim.
When asked to describe Mac, Natalie was told he was tall and had a large frame. His hair was bushy and dark and he had a lot of facial hair on him.
“Do you know where he lives?” asked Natalie.
“From the looks of his hands and clothes, I’d say he works on a farm or does heavy yardwork of some kind,” said Lila. “I just wish he would, at least, wash his hands before he comes in to eat.” She chuckled softly. “Of course, it isn’t our policy to turn anyone away, and it’s probably his one chance to get a good solid meal.”
Natalie sipped the last of her coffee, which was a little stronger than she desired. She picked up her purse and handed Lila a five-dollar bill for the coffee and a tip. When Lila protested it was too much, Natalie told her it included a tip for the time she took both of them away from their work.
When the door to the café closed, Lila and Jim looked at one another. “What was that all about?” said Lila. Jim shook his head and said he had no idea but he had work to do. Lila took the coffee pot to three men and refilled their cups.
Meanwhile, out in the parking lot, Natalie dug her cell phone from her purse and called the office. When she reached Candy, she told her she was going back out to Cowherd Road to look for the burly shadowed figure. She described her conversation with the Franklins.
“Keep me posted and let me know when you get out there,” Candy said. “I haven’t been able to reach either Polly or Bill Pearson yet.”
***
Natalie felt familiar shivers throughout her body as she approached the country road. She turned to her destination and heard machinery of some kind going. She quickly glanced in her mirrors to make sure Lee Chambers wasn’t sharing the road with her. No one was in sight and only dust from her car swirled on the road. The noise became louder when she neared the small thicket of trees. The source of the noise was from a small tractor in need of a new paint job that was pushing a mower in front of it. According to Lee Chambers, the man used something called a bushhog to mow the area. It shouldn’t take him long since there was more loose brush than grass, thought Natalie. She parked and watched the man who appeared too large for the small tractor seat. He didn’t see her and shut the motor off and then jumped to the ground with ease. His bushy dark hair and large frame told her he had to be Mac Johnson. She watched as he took a large rake and swept brush to the far edge of the grove. A battered pickup truck was parked between the grove and the field beyond it. The man forked the brush and threw it in the back of the truck.
Talking to him would take more courage than Natalie felt at the moment. She changed her mind, put her car into drive and headed for the Chambers’ house. She hoped Lee would be around and not in one of his fields. As she turned into his drive, he was just getting onto his tractor. A wide plow was hooked to the back of it. When he saw her, he stepped down and came to greet her.
“I didn’t expect to see you back out here so soon,” he said.
“I failed to ask you the name of the man who keeps the grove cleared.”
“That’s Mac Johnson. He keeps to himself, so I can’t tell you much more about him.”
“Where does he live?” asked Natalie.
Lee swerved his head around and pointed to a small house across the large field. “That’s his house. It’s not on my property, so I’m not sure if he owns the house and any land around it or not.” Lee paused and then said, “If you want to talk to him, I heard the bushhog going a little while ago. It’s about time he got to that grove. If he’s being paid to take care of it, then that’s what he should be doing.”
Natalie thanked him for his time and got back into her car. Lee waved big as she left. For the first time, she felt uneasy in his presence. He was just a little too friendly, she thought.
Don’t forget that Lee lives alone and gets lonely, she said to herself.
With all the courage she could muster, she returned to the grove. Mac was walking toward his pickup truck and turned when he heard her car stop on the gravel. At first, Natalie was sure he was going to dodge behind a tree or just get into his truck and speed off. He must have changed his mind because he walked toward her car. Natalie lowered the window and tried not to pull back at the strong odor that emitted from him. She was tempted to ask if he had running water at home but smiled at him instead.
He looked like a large creature from the woods standing just a few feet from her. The full sun focused on ruddy features and a scowling face.
“I just want to know if the grove still belongs to the Pearson family,” she said. Natalie wished she could better manage an even voice. He didn’t answer but chose to nod his head. The frown that wrinkled his forehead did not relax. “Do you know Polly and Bill?”
He turned on his heels, and, with surprising adeptness, he made his way to his truck and drove off. Mac Johnson was not interested in conversing with her.
Chapter 7
The Pearsons
On a whim, Natalie called the City Cab Company and asked to meet with the owner. When she was told that the owner lived in Pennsylvania, she asked for the manager on site.
“I want to ask you a few questions about the day Robert Douglas died,” she said when Jack Winter answered. “I know you can’t give me particulars about his customers, but I wondered why he drove the cab the morning he visited Candace McCauley’s office if that was his day off.”
“I can tell you that part. His shift actually started three hours before arriving at your office. He had a short day and planned to end it at noon. He called me to tell me he was taking his break. I know he went through the Jack in the Box drive-thru lane for coffee.”
“Do you know if anyone was in the cab with him?” asked Natalie.
“Absolutely not. That is against regulations and Robert never breached rules at all. Only passengers are allowed to ride in the cabs and that’s when the drivers are on duty. Robert was on his break and he had no customers with him.”
Natalie thanked him for his time. “His boss didn’t know it, but faithful Robert Douglas illegally had a rider along with him when on his break,” she said aloud.
She saw the fast food restaurant ahead of her and decided to stop in. After ident
ifying herself to the manager, she asked to speak with the employee who had served at the window the day Robert drove through. The manager produced a young pimpled man who appeared to be around nineteen or twenty.
“Can you tell me about the man we are talking about?”
“I told the cops the whole story,” he said.
The manager told him to tell it again and then left both of them alone.
“All right. The cab pulled through and the driver ordered a cup of coffee. No wait, he ordered two cups of coffee. Someone else was on the passenger side, but I didn’t pay any attention to that one. I got the coffee and the taxi driver paid and went on. A few minutes later he came inside and I saw him ask for a small order of fries.”
“Did the other person come in with him?”
“No, he was alone. He paid and left. I don’t know which way they went. Now that I think of it, it was a little different seeing a passenger in a cab sitting in the front seat.”
Natalie told him the driver was on break and probably had a friend with him. She presumed the employee would have no knowledge of taxi policy, and she was right. She thanked him for his time and called Candy to tell her she was on her way back to the office.
***
I heard Natalie come in and she greeted Evelyn. I was glad Natalie had this much energy over the case. My energy level hadn’t yet reached its par yet.
“Candy, if you have time, I’ll tell you everything I’ve done this morning,” said Natalie.
I was all ears and she told me of the morning’s events. I was surprised at her courage to wait for Mac Johnson and to actually attempt a conversation with him. I knew how nervous he made her and told her so. Natalie laughed.
“I surprised myself. I can tell you one thing, Candy. The country is way too quiet for me. It’s a little scary, too. There are no people, except for this strange Mac and the farmer who lives alone.”
It was only later that Natalie told me she probably wouldn’t make a return visit to Lee Chambers, stating he didn’t give good vibes this last time she had gone to see him. I assured her that if another visit was warranted with him, she wouldn’t have to go alone. A smile crossed her face. We decided to drive by the home of the Pearsons. If at home, they were ignoring their phone. Lunch hour arrived and I invited Evelyn and Natalie to grab a bite with me first.
“We can close the office during the lunch hour today. Both of you deserve a break after taking over while I was sick.”
They reached for their purses eagerly. Evelyn locked the front door and turned the closed sign over. We opted for a small café a few blocks from the office that I knew was a favorite for both women. I ordered a deli sandwich on wheat and a side order of their homemade chicken noodle soup. I explained that I did that to be able to tell Nick I was following his orders on the importance of chicken noodle soup for healing, but I declined any orange juice. Instead, my trademark raspberry iced tea was my choice of drink. Natalie and Evelyn both ordered their favorite salads and a cup of soup. It was an unmentioned rule that when we socialized together, all business matters were left at the office.
***
Back at the office, Evelyn hurried to answer the phone. My cases were piling up, but so far most were minor issues. The exception was the case of murdered Robert Douglas. I flipped the open sign back on the door and unlocked it. When Evelyn hung up the phone I told her where we were going.
“Natalie and I are going to try to meet with the Pearsons and get some information from them about their ride to the country,” I told her. “Wish us luck. So far they aren’t answering their phone.”
“Perhaps they have left the country,” said Evelyn.
I almost laughed until I realized she was serious. “That’s something that I hadn’t thought of,” I said. “I hope you are wrong about that possibility.”
“I do, too,” she said.
Once again Natalie and I were in my car. We headed for the address of Polly and Bill Pearson. The neighborhood was a well-kept older one and most of the homes were small bungalows. The Pearsons’ house was no exception. The shades in the front of the house were closed.
“It looks like they aren’t home,” said Natalie.
“That was my first thought, too, but look toward the back of the house. The side curtains and blinds are open back there.”
I pulled to the curb and parked. We got out and approached the front door. The lawn was neatly mowed, and, other than two trimmed bushes of some sort, there were no flowers in the yard. A large elm tree stood yards from the house giving shade to it.
“Don’t you think we should go through the back way?” asked Natalie.
“I think, since we are strangers, we should use the front door and see if they answer it.”
I rang the button in the middle of the antiquated round doorbell. A melodious tune echoed and we waited. I was just about to punch it again when the door opened. The tall slim lady asked if she could help us. I introduced us and she stood back to allow us to enter. The entryway was musty smelling, and, though sunlight beamed outside, the area was dark. So far the woman’s taut expression had not wavered.
“Come on back to the kitchen area. We rarely use the front part of our house,” she said.
At the doorway to the outdated kitchen, a man just as tall as the woman looked up. We were introduced to Bill Pearson. As an afterthought, Polly introduced herself. We were invited to sit down and then were offered coffee. We declined and I got down to business first.
“We understand the taxi driver Robert Douglas took you to the country at your request.” I provided the date of their ride. “I’m sure you have heard he has since passed away.”
Both kept their cool. “We did read of the death of a taxi driver recently,” said Bill. “We had no idea it was the same driver we had.”
I scrutinized their faces. They were good at withholding emotions. Either he was a proficient liar or completely innocent.
“I thought the police would have told you that when they talked with you,” said Natalie.
It was bait since we had no idea whether the cops had gotten to them or not. On the other hand, Natalie did meet two cop cars driving toward the tree grove, so surely they talked with the Pearsons.
“Now that you mention it, we were told the name of the driver. I believe his last name was Douglas, or something like that,” said Polly. She offered coffee again, and again we declined.
“Can you tell us your purpose in going to the country? I’m wondering why you didn’t wait for the taxi driver to take you back to town,” I said.
“The grove is in our family. We wanted to check to see if the man we pay to take care of it is doing his job,” said Bill. “It needed some work, but I got him back out on it. I hope it looks better.”
“Robert Douglas told his daughter that he returned to the grove on his day off the next day. He was curious about why you walked to the grove from where you wanted him to let you out,” I said. “He noted loose dirt in one spot that appeared to him to be a grave, newly dug. Is there a family cemetery in the grove?”
“I don’t know why he would have said that. There are no graves in there and certainly no new ones,” said Bill.
“I drove out there to see for myself,” said Natalie. “The grave he spoke of is now a large empty hole. Can you explain that?”
Both shook their heads. Their facial expressions were set in stone, it seemed.
“I can’t explain any of it. When we checked that afternoon there was the usual brush here and there. The grass needed mowing and the place needed to be cleared of fallen branches,” said Bill. “I can assure you there was no hole with anyone in it, or an empty one for that matter.”
“You still have not answered why you didn’t have the driver wait for you. How did you get back to town?” I asked.
“We often walk in the country,” said Polly. “That afternoon, we had decided to take our time and walk back to town.”
“But that’s several miles,” said Natalie. “Are
you saying you walked all the way back to town?”
Polly’s stern eyes glued to Natalie’s dark ones. “A few miles aren’t that much. We often walk that far and farther.”
I had been looking at artifacts on a shelf just inside the kitchen doorway. I asked if they traveled often. That subject seemed to relieve both of them, and, though they didn’t relax totally, their demeanor softened somewhat.
“We have traveled to many places in the world,” said Polly. “Those articles were found in South Africa on a trip a couple of years ago.”
I gave the signal to Natalie that it was time to leave. I thanked them for their time. Back in my car, I noticed the light gauze curtains shifted from the kitchen window on the side of the house. We were being watched. I wanted to knock on neighbors’ doors to get a little more information about Polly and Bill Pearson but decided to save that for another day.
Chapter 8
The Neighbor
That evening before Nick arrived home from work, I thought about the mysterious Pearsons. Reflections flooded my mind while doing some prep work for dinner that night. The fact that Polly and Bill had ready answers for every question puzzled me. I set the bowl of salad back in the refrigerator, along with a bottle of Chardonnay to chill. I pulled a bottle of red wine from the rack, as well. I wasn’t sure what Nick planned to grill for us. He was stopping at the market for what he needed before arriving home.
I had to restrain myself from going forward in the investigation I told Natalie she could lead. At the same time, I knew she was feeling overwhelmed, especially when it came to who she should be interviewing. I reminded her to pick up on each lead and go from there. Without a doubt, she had a great future in store for herself. I could imagine her rising beyond private-investigator status. As for me, I was happy where I was. The difference in being complacent, which I wasn’t, was the fact that I wanted to keep getting better. I turned as the kitchen door opened.
“I didn’t hear your car,” I said.