Mystery Bundle (Saints Preserve Us, Pray For Us Sinners, Murder Most Trivial)

by Leigh Ellwood

  “Anyway, I hired the Dennis boys to get Lorena on a night I knew Paul would be working,” he continued as Lew motioned for a pad and paper. “You can call Bart Wills at SalesCo of Jacksonville, he’s the supervisor. I’ll give you the number. Anyway,” Arthur sighed, “after our shift I asked Paul to come down to the Wild Rooster for a burger. I figured if I tied him up for a few hours those knuckleheads would have enough time to get the coffin and get out before anyone noticed.”

  “Why did you think Paul Dix would head back to the cemetery so late at night?” Ronnie asked.

  “Because he kept griping about something he’d left behind in his tool shed,” Arthur groaned. “Kept saying he had to go back and get it, in case somebody broke in and tried to steal it. Damn it!” Arthur buried his face in his hands. “I told him to let it wait ‘til morning, and he said he would. But he must have gone back when we parted at the bar. I should have seen him home.”

  Arthur looked up again, streaks of tears drying on his cheeks. “So I guess he surprised those boys I hired and they killed him.”

  “Not according to them,” Lew said quietly. “When one of them was being escorted into Officer Murphy’s car he denied ever seeing Paul Dix in the cemetery. Of course, we were expecting that.”

  “So he lied,” Gina said angrily. “Arthur admitted to hiring them, what other explanation is there?”

  “The Dennis boys are on their way here now. We’ll find out more in the morning.” Lew said.

  Arthur nodded; new tears formed at the corners of his eyes. Nana cried along with him and begged the sheriff to let her son stay. “I don’t want my son to go to jail,” she pleaded. “Lew, isn’t there something we can do? Maybe those boys are telling the truth. Paul Dix could have shown up after they left and had a heart attack, or...”

  Her voice trailed away, and Ronnie only shook her head. She too wanted to believe what her grandmother theorized. However, if Paul Dix did die of a heart attack, it would likely be attributed to the bump on the noggin from the blunt object that struck him. For Arthur’s sake, though, she elected to keep quiet about the actual cause of death.

  “Arthur, are you going to run out on me?” Lew demanded as he pressing back a headache by pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “No.” Arthur shook his head. “You have my word.”

  “Good. Go to bed. Same goes for you ladies. I know I should stay up and settle this, but after what’s happened here and in Jacksonville I just need to get some sleep. The Dennis boys are going straight to the holding cell at the station. They can stew in there ‘til morning.” Lew turned toward the door and looked back questioningly at Ronnie.

  “I’ll get my purse out of your car and go home with Gina,” she told him. The night was shot anyway, she thought, with the arrest of the Dennis boys and her uncle’s confession. There would be no goodnight kiss, even if she wanted one.

  She paused at the front door. Did she want one? Did Lew?

  ~ * ~

  This time it was not the Jacksonville Journal but the local news station that scooped the latest installment of Blessed Lorena’s adventures. Ronnie might have missed the morning report had not her nephews woke her as they ransacked her room early in the morning in a frantic search for the television remote.

  “Dude! Twenty-seven! Hurry!” Ian urged his brother to find the right channel while shaking his aunt from an already tense sleep.

  “What?” Ronnie cried, tilting her head upward to discover with bleary vision a perky blond woman relating news of Lorena’s recovery. Video footage followed of Georgia State troopers hauling the small, ratty casket from the luggage compartment of Ted Nugent’s tour bus amid flashing strobe lights and bewildered onlookers.

  Ian walked on his knees to the front of the bed and plopped down on the spare pillow as Ronnie propped herself on her elbows. “Cool, huh?” he said. “Will we get to be on MTV News, too?”

  Ronnie yawned. “I doubt it, unless Lorena gets elected to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, which won’t be happening soon.” With one swift move she slid her pillow from underneath her and batted the boy playfully in the face.

  “She stands a better chance than most singers, I’ll bet.” Gina called from the open doorway. Before Ian could launch a pillow counterattack she ordered both boys upstairs. “You got twenty minutes before we start our lessons. Go do something constructive instead of bothering your aunt.”

  Ian and Elliott muttered their goodbyes and scrambled upstairs, and Gina used the remote handed to her to turn off the television set. She sat on the edge of the bed and watched Ronnie shuffle to the bathroom.

  “Was that all the news this morning?” Ronnie shouted over the running faucet.

  “Pretty much. Nana called, said they’re going to head over to the station early. Get it all over with, I guess,” Gina sighed.

  The sound of running water faded, replaced by the brushing of teeth. Ronnie gurgled a question concerning Lorena’s body, which Gina did not need to hear twice.

  “Oh, I think the Georgia police handed her over to the Florida State police. Funny thing, the bus was going up 9A and A1A instead of the interstate, Lord only knows why. Maybe Ted wanted a more scenic route. That’s why it took so long to find,” Gina said.

  She stood and moved closer to the ajar bathroom door. “Father Joel is going to Jacksonville today to get them to release her into his custody,” she added. “The Moss Funeral Home in Fernandina volunteered to keep her until the altar of the new church is ready. I don’t think anybody wants to put her back in the original grave.” Gina inspected her fingernails and leaned forward for a glimpse of her sister.

  Ronnie emerged from the bathroom in her robe and rounded the bed toward her dresser. “You think I should go to the station, too?”

  Gina shook her head. “Nana doesn’t want any of us there. She said it’s nerve-wracking enough just going by herself. Man!” She bounced back on the mattress. “I can’t believe he did this! I still haven’t told the boys. How do I begin to explain something like that?”

  “They’ll be fine,” Ronnie assured her lightly. She pulled on a pair of denim shorts, opened her robe and searched a lower dresser for a T-shirt. “It’s not like they knew Lorena, none of us really did.”

  “Still, it’s not exactly proper to dig up bodies for ransom, Ron.”

  Ronnie found an aqua blue Florida Marlins T-shirt and slipped it over her head. “Okay, break it to them gently. Tell them Arthur was in dire straits and probably wasn’t thinking clearly at the time. Later you might want to think about a lesson in financial planning for the future so the boys won’t get any ideas.”

  “Funny.” Gina stormed toward the door. “Making jokes when our uncle might be arrested for involvement in a man’s death.”

  “He won’t be, Gina.”

  Gina whirled around and stared at her sister in disbelief. “How are you so confident it won’t happen?”

  Ronnie grabbed her purse and scanned the floor for her sandals. “Because I know who is really responsible, and I can prove it. I just need to take care of something first.”

  Chapter Twenty

  As expected, the parking lot by the Arts and Sciences building was empty, as were the offices of the English department. Ronnie unlocked the main and department doors, went straight to her desk and sat, back straight and palms pressed down on the oft-scribbled blotter. Her fingers fanned outward as far as they could go until she felt the strain. She wondered if perhaps she should have brought Jim’s gun with her.

  With one eye on her opened purse she dialed the office phone and listened for the nasal recording to inform her of the time. “Hey, Gina,” she said as the recording clicked into silence. “I’m still here at work, it’s kind of creepy being here by myself. I think I have everything I need to take to Lew. Just give me an hour and I’ll be heading home then. Love you, bye.”

  She hung up and exhaled. Step one, check.

  Step two. She palmed her cell phone and tucked it underneath her T-shirt fo
r easy access. She had set the station’s number on the speed dial, so it would only be a matter of pressing two numbers at the right time to alert the police if needed.

  Hopefully the police would not be needed, she thought. Hopefully the whole mess could be resolved amicably and peacefully.

  Hopefully the cup of coffee sitting before her would give her super powers and make her skin impervious to bullets, she thought, then shook her head. No, her visitor would not be bringing a gun. Her visitor did not know to expect an ambush.

  Thirty minutes into her wait, with her mind wandering between prayers and berating herself for pulling such a crazy stunt, Ronnie finally rose for a second cup of coffee with two generous spoonfuls of creamer. Too nervous to let any of her work attract her attention, she elected to remain alert for noise in the office. The distraction of a book, however, was rather tempting; even one of Ethan Fontaine’s e-mail diatribes would have been a welcome break from the anxiety.

  Any thoughts of leisure reading, however, faded quietly when the outside office door creaked open and soft footfalls approached her own open door, stepping in time to her heartbeat. She reached for the cell phone only to find it had rolled from her lap to the floor when she had stood.

  “I thought I saw your lights on. Hello, Professor Lord.” Chet Hoskins stuck his head inside the office and smiled. “I understand your ancestor’s had an interesting vacation. Care to comment?”

  “I’m always willing to comment, Mr. Hoskins, but what I have to say can’t be printed,” Ronnie shot back. She leaned forward and reached her hand down as far as it could go. She was still nowhere close to retrieving the cell phone, but she did not dare bend down. She wanted Chet in sight at all times.

  “May I come in?” Chet had already entered without waiting for an answer and took the chair in front of her desk. “I have a five o’clock deadline and have to interview three more people about the police finding Lorena on the bus.” He extracted his notebook from his shirt pocket.

  Ronnie, thinking it was something else, stifled a gasp. “I’d really like to get a quote from a family member, for a more personal angle,” he added. “I hope you will consider it, especially since Lorena is out of harm’s way now. Did you know we’re getting hits on our website from all over the world? You’d be surprised to know how many fans Lorena has.”

  “That’s all well and good for your career, but why do you need any help from me? There are other Algers in the area.”

  “Well, your grandmother wasn’t home, so I called your sister’s house. She said she was too busy to talk, but she mentioned you were working here today. Since the school is on the way to the paper, I figured I’d stop by.”

  Bingo. Ronnie deftly toed the cell phone and dragged it to the back of her chair. “Really? That’s interesting, because Gina never answers the phone during the day. She homeschools her sons and doesn’t like the distraction.”

  The smile on Chet’s face remained intact. “What can I say? She made an exception.”

  “She also didn’t know where I was going to be, either, because I never told her.” Ronnie tapped her purse toward her and fished out a round metal object. “You thought I did, though, when I called the time line and you listened in on this thing.” She spun the bug on its end and tossed it in the air. “Everything money can buy, so your editor says. Nice gadget,” she added. “Sharper Image have a sale? I have to admit it was clever of you to stuff it in a side pocket where I’d be less likely to look for things.”

  Chet shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the plastic smile slowly fading. Ronnie relished his sudden awkwardness and continued. Without the phone nearby to help, however, she could not think of anything else to do.

  “All this time we wondered who was responsible for leaking the private information that wound up in your stories. Apparently, the source you couldn’t and wouldn’t reveal is me.” She fingered the device. “So, is there a base of operations in your basement, or maybe the front seat of that Bug you drive? Are you listening through some high-tech spy stereo?”

  The smile returned. “Lady, if I wasn’t going to tell where I was getting my information, I sure as hell won’t detail how I get it.”

  “Fine. Maybe you’d like to discuss your involvement with Paul Dix instead, and how you arranged for him to steal Lorena?”

  A flicker of surprise flashed across Chet’s face. He waited for her explanation, but Ronnie refused to be intimidated by his now stony glare.

  “Elena Dix needed her medical bills paid, and her husband’s job didn’t nearly make up the difference. You have more than enough, judging from your budget here.” She palmed the bug. “So you make an offer Paul Dix can’t refuse, and bribe him with a nice bauble if he’ll do the grunt work for you.”

  “Interesting theory,” Chet nodded, “but surely you realize you can’t possibly make an accusation like that stick. Your only witness is dead, and Paul Dix could have received that watch from his wife as a gift.”

  Double bingo. “How did you know I was talking about a watch? Don’t tell me you heard it over the bug, because my purse was locked in the sheriff’s car when we discussed the watch.”

  “Er,” Chet cleared his throat. “I-I saw him wearing it at the cemetery once, when I visited Lorena’s grave for research. You hardly forget a watch like that.”

  Ronnie smiled. The phone was still out of reach. She pushed it toward the center of her chair and tried fruitlessly to lift it with her feet. “No, you didn’t,” she said. “Paul Dix never wore his watch or wedding ring to work. His widow will testify to that.”

  “He wore it that day!” Chet shouted. “People sometimes forget their routines. I’m sure you’ve come to work without your watch and wedding ring.” He glared at the band of gold around Ronnie’s finger.

  “This ring hasn’t left my finger since the day Jim gave it to me.” Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke, and she shook away her frustration. She knew what Chet was trying to do, and she would not let him get into her head.

  “Really? What’s it going to take to get it off? Does your sheriff friend have a crowbar?” Chet sneered.

  “We were talking about your involvement with Paul Dix’s murder,” Ronnie countered tersely. “My uncle took him to the Wild Rooster on Thursday, and he was anxious to get back to the cemetery in the middle of the night. Said he left something behind.”

  “His watch, perhaps?”

  “No, I think he went there to dig up Lorena, but found she was already gone. Neither of you had counted on the Dennis brothers accomplishing what he set out to do.”

  “Ah, yes, the notorious Dennis brothers,” Chet said with a smirk. “Two punks with records longer than my arm. A jury would more likely find them guilty of murder than me, you know. You only have me planting a microphone in your purse,” he added. “That is, if you can prove I actually did it. You can’t hold me for Lorena’s disappearance or Dix’s murder at all.”

  Ronnie shook her head. “The day we met I asked you to hand me my purse from that chair. You had to have planted the bug then, because it wasn’t until afterward that the stories started appearing in the newspaper. As for the murder, the Dennis boys claim they were alone the entire time they were at the cemetery. Despite their reputations and criminal records, I believe them.

  “You see,” she continued, “I haven’t had my purse with me all the time, else you might have heard Lew telling me and my grandmother that several hairs were found on Paul Dix’s body that did not match his or his wife’s. Now, samples were taken from both Dennis boys as well, and there were no matches there. Makes sense, since both boys barely have any hair to leave.” She eyed the top of Chet’s head. “These hairs were longer and darker, and one of them has enough of a follicle for a DNA test.”

  She drummed the bug on the desk. “There’s also a phone in the shed, did you know that? I’m guessing that when Lew pulls up all the records, he’ll find a call made to your number late Thursday night. He’ll realize Paul called to inform you of th
e situation, and that you came down to see for yourself. Maybe you and Paul argued, maybe you wanted your money back and he refused. Maybe you decided to forget about the money and chalk it up to lessons learned, but to make sure you weren’t fingered you knocked him upside the head and planted him the vacant plot. That’s enough evidence that the sheriff doesn’t need to find the shovel used to kill Mr. Dix, which I’m sure you disposed of that night. I wonder if any dirt will be found in your car should the police get a search warrant.”

  Chet was silent. Ronnie half-expected a round of slow, sarcastic applause. Instead the reporter folded his arms and gazed toward the ceiling. “Not bad, Miss Marple. What can I say? You got me. Though I must admit if anyone in Ash Lake was smart enough to figure everything out, it would have to be the professor.”