Killing the Secret

by Donna Welch Jones

  Sarah stood up to pace. “Based on this tape, I have no doubt Heather was murdered.”

  “Nor do I,” Lexie agreed.

  “Detective Chandler, will I be charged for withholding evidence?” Williams fingered his beard.

  “It just took you awhile to speak up, so you didn’t really withhold it.” Sarah continued, “I need to take that tape but I’ll do my best to get it back to you.”

  Lexie stood. “Thank you. I know it’s a struggle for you to let go of what you knew Heather wanted, but you’re helping to find her murderer.”

  “Lave is the lesser of two evils,” Chandler added.

  “I know,” responded the doctor.

  After their good-byes, they hurried to the car, both aware of Lexie’s short time line to catch her flight.

  Sarah monitored the rush-hour traffic as she spoke, “Williams was a fine example of someone screwing up a detective’s work. I felt sorry for him, but I should’ve charged him, or at least kicked him, for not telling the truth.”

  Lexie laughed and said, “I would’ve volunteered to hold him.”

  Sarah’s aggravation lifted. “That’s what I call teamwork. Forget about those work relationship seminars the brass force me to attend. A good ass kickin’ would make for a great bonding activity.”

  “They’d sure have my vote,” Lexie agreed.

  Sarah pulled up to the terminal. “I’ll keep in touch regarding the investigation here and you do the same.”

  “Will do.”

  “If you ever want to work in Dallas, call me.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got plenty to finish in Diffee before I consider moving on.”

  The women exchanged modified waves. Lexie quickened her pace. Now she was at the most difficult part of her trip—getting her bearings at the Dallas Airport. After following three different pointing fingers, she reached the right gate. A voice over the loud speaker confirmed her flight: “TULSA flight 273: On Time.”

  It’ll be so good to get back home, she thought, as she maneuvered into her seat.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Bud held the fine leather suitcase with care. He was purposely running late for flight 273 to Tulsa.

  “I’m so sorry.” He apologized to the half dozen people in front of him in line. “My meeting ran over and I fear I’m going to miss my flight. May I go in front of you?”

  Each of the six nodded or motioned for the distinguished looking person to move to the front. His appreciative smile negotiated him through his dilemma.

  The woman at the counter quickly checked his identification and put his bag on the conveyer. “You better run,” she advised.

  Bud made long strides toward the escalator until he was out of sight of the check-in desk. He exited at the first door and hailed a cab to take him to the other Dallas airport.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Lexie visually scanned the inside of the plane. There wasn’t a single empty seat. A college basketball team occupied many of the spaces. There was a group of tanned ladies who had connected from Hawaii to Dallas to Tulsa. A couple of babies were crying toward the back of the plane. A toddler escaped from his daddy and ventured a few rows, giving everyone in his path a friendly grin. Lexie usually sat in the escape row, but basketball players already inhabited those seats. Her only choice was to sit near the rear of the plane.

  Two young women in front of her talked about their father’s heart attack and their hope he’d live until they were able to see him one more time in Tulsa.

  Her seatmates introduced themselves, “We’re Larry and Connie Matthews.”

  “I’m Lexie Wolfe.”

  “On vacation, Lexie?” Connie asked.

  “No, just had some work in Dallas. Have you two been on vacation?”

  “If you consider spending four days with thirty-two of Connie’s relatives a vacation, then I guess we did have one.” Connie reached up and playfully pinched his cheek.

  “Twenty-four of them are on this flight,” Connie added.

  “I don’t think I’ll pick a fight with you two. I don’t think I can handle twenty-six to one.”

  “Let me warn you that flying scares my wife to death. If she starts screaming like a fool, just ignore her. Connie took a sedative before she came on board, so maybe she’ll fall asleep.”

  “It’s actually safer than driving,” Lexie responded.

  Chapter Thirty

  Irritation brought beads of sweat to Leo’s forehead as he pulled the luggage off the conveyer belt. He needed to load it on his cart and drive it to flight 273. The airport was unusually busy during his shift. He didn’t dare risk looking in any of the luggage to see what treasures he could sneak into his trash bag. Usually, he managed to get his hands on at least a hundred dollars worth of jewelry, tech stuff, cameras, or even cash during his shift but today his bag was flat.

  It wasn’t so much the money as his pride. During his two months of employment at the airport, he’d managed to take something home with him from every shift. Flight 273 was the last flight of his day, so time was running out to keep his record intact.

  “Get a move on, Leo!” his boss hollered. “That Tulsa flight is leaving in ten minutes. I’m going to write you up if that stuff misses the plane.”

  Leo’s small frame tensed and a flash of anger turned his face crimson. He quickly threw the rest of the bags on his cart.

  “Grab that last one there,” the boss ordered as he walked toward the break room.

  Leo’s eyes quickly scanned the area. The fine leather suitcase disappeared into his trash bag. He dumped the contents of the nearby trashcan over it. Then he left his treasure to hurriedly take the other luggage to the plane.

  Back at the baggage area, Leo punched the time clock and grabbed his trash bag along with two other full bags of trash. His old car was parked, as usual, near the dumpster. He heaved the two heavy bags in the dumpster, then quickly pushed his treasure bag into the trunk.

  “I’m the master,” Leo told himself. “The best of the best.” He spent his time behind the wheel trying to imagine what was inside the leather bag. A pile of money was a nice thought, or perhaps it was full of jewelry: diamonds, rubies, emeralds, or pearls. It looked like his worse day might turn out to be his best day ever.

  Leo made a sharp right off the highway onto the mile long dirt road that led to his house. His excitement built as he pulled the bag from the trunk.

  He pushed the dirty dishes to the side of his kitchen table and ceremoniously put the bag in the middle. Using a screwdriver, he disengaged the lock then reached for the zipper pull. His eyes widened. A long piercing scream escaped from his throat. He hurried to close the lid but it was too late. The explosion sent him, his house, and the fine leather bag skyward.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Good-bye,” Lexie said to her seatmates. “Nice meeting you.”

  “Same to you,” Larry replied.

  “I’m just glad we didn’t crash.” The tenseness in Connie’s face subsided.

  “This is getting old.” Larry’s face crunched in disgust. “A plane hasn’t crashed with you on it yet. Don’t be such a damn drama queen.”

  Connie looked at Lexie. “I’ll try to be braver next time.”

  Lexie nodded with a comforting smile.

  Finally, the front passengers moved forward. Eventually, Lexie was sleeping soundly in her own bed.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Lexie arrived at her office promptly at seven a.m. eager to discuss her findings with Tye. She sat at her old desk and looked through her phone messages. One each day was from Wilbur wanting her to meet to negotiate a deal. Apparently, jail time had softened his position. There were several calls from family members of Abbey asking when an arrest would be made.

  Just as she’d hoped, Tye arrived before Delia. “Little sister, are you adventured out?” Tye gave her braid a tug.

  “Sure am,” Lexie replied.

  “So what did you learn?” Tye sat down on the edge of
her desk.

  “They didn’t find anything to help with Tina’s case. Johnson did sway from his belief that Ronald murdered Terri, but he’s keeping him locked up. No way was Heather’s death a suicide. Detective Chandler is reopening her case and will have the body exhumed.”

  “Why are you so sure about Heather?”

  “Because there was a cheerful message on her psychiatrist’s answering machine saying she was excited because an old friend from high school was coming to see her.”

  “I’ll be damned.”

  “Pull out your list,” Lexie directed. “By the way, Ronald said the man he passed in the hall was around six feet. I’m assuming that he passed the murderer. The sheriff in Kansas said they found a gray synthetic hair on Tina’s body.

  “Since she said ‘high school friend’ that means we can rule out Beth, Tina, Mariah, and Heather’s husbands,” Tye reasoned.

  Lexie continued, “That leaves Jamie, Beth, Mariah, Gary, Loretta, and her husband Sam, who knew Abbey’s suspicions and went to high school with Heather. I can’t imagine she’d refer to Sean as a ‘high school friend’, but we’ll leave him on the list anyway.”

  “Beth is too short, so she’s off the A list,” Tye added.

  “It may just be a coincidence, but I saw two gray toupees and one wig in the Toleson closet. Her husband’s hair looked natural, but I’m not positive. Rich people can afford to buy hairpieces that look real.”

  “Of course, any husband may be helping his wife do the killing if he thinks it’s important enough,” Tye said.

  “I know, but I need a short list to concentrate on at this point. There are too many possibilities if we look at everyone who went to high school then.”

  Lexie grabbed the phone on the first ring, “Sheriff’s office.”

  “This is Chandler.”

  “Sarah, hello. I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

  Her voice was all business. “Have you seen the news today, Lexie?”

  “No, I was in a hurry to get to work.”

  “Well, listen to the news then phone me back,” Chandler ordered.

  “What’s going on?” Tye questioned as his sister moved from her seat to the radio located on the corner shelf.

  “Sarah told me to listen to the news. Didn’t say why.”

  Lexie found the broadcast then sat back in her chair and waited. It didn’t take long before an official sounding voice gave the report.

  “A rural area outside of Dallas was rocked by a bomb yesterday evening. A baggage man from the Dallas airport was killed in the explosion. No other deaths were reported. The baggage man was under suspicion a month ago when a fellow employee accused him of stealing from a suitcase. He was never charged due to a lack of evidence.”

  The reporter went on to say he was going to play a previously taped interview with Detective Sarah Chandler.

  “Do you think this was a terrorist act, Detective?”

  “No.”

  “What’s your theory?”

  “I’m working on the assumption that Leo Dunham stole the bag hoping there was something expensive inside. I imagine it was quite a shock when he found a bomb.”

  The reporter was direct. “So you suspect the bomb was meant to blow up a plane?”

  “Yes,” Sarah replied confidently.

  “What flight was it supposed to end up on?”

  “Flight 273 to Tulsa was the last flight Dunham put baggage on. Looks like that was the intended target.”

  The reporter was persistent. “How can you be sure it wasn’t terrorists?”

  “There’s no way to be completely sure,” Sarah continued. “I do know there was a murder investigator on that flight. At this point in time, I believe she was getting too close to a killer, so he tried to get rid of her permanently.”

  “Whose murder?” Excitement was evident in the reporter’s voice.

  “Not talking about that now,” Sarah said firmly. “This is a theory, with some back-up proof, but time will tell.”

  “Are you saying some lowlife thief saved the lives of over a hundred passengers because he stole a bomb?” Now the reporter sounded elated.

  “That’s what I think, but as I said, time will tell.”

  Lexie turned off the radio. Her arms and legs moved in short stiff jerks. She opened her mouth to let in more air. Crossing her arms tightly in front of her chest, she gripped her shoulders trying to control her body. The faces of Connie, Larry, and the toddler flashed in her mind and how close she’d come to getting them all killed.

  “My God, that was your flight?! The sonofabitch tried to blow you up!” Tyes’ desk rattled as he pounded the surface with both hands.

  Lexie pressed Sarah’s number into the phone. “I heard,” she said as she tried to control the tremble in her voice.

  “He’s obviously very angry,” Sarah cautioned, “or he wouldn’t have gone to this extreme. You need to be on constant vigil.”

  “I will.” Lexie’s hand squeezed the receiver.

  “As I find out more, I’ll get the info to you. This has to get solved as soon as possible. Be careful,” Sarah warned.

  “Yes,” Lexie agreed as she hung up the phone.

  “I never thought I’d say these words, but thank God for a thief.” Tye reached over and squeezed her arm.

  Lexie felt her body gradually return to near normal with the exception of the relentless pain in her head. Maybe changing the subject would lessen the pressure.

  “D…D…Did you get an invitation to your high school reunion?” she stuttered.

  “I did a couple of days ago. How’d you know that?”

  “Mariah told me she was coming. I just don’t know about this. It’s like sending an engraved invitation to a murderer.”

  “Beth sent out the invitations,” Tye said. “I asked her if she thought it was the thing to do under the circumstances. She wanted to finish Abbey’s project.”

  “I guess the advantage is we’ll get all the players here at the same time. I just don’t know how we’ll be able to keep Jamie, Beth, Mariah, and Loretta safe.”

  “…and you,” Tye added. “Did Mariah have any ideas on why someone wanted to kill her team?”

  “She said she wasn’t part of their clique, so she didn’t expect anyone who wanted to kill them would necessarily want to kill her.”

  “Interesting, but probably is true. She was different from the others—more aloof, snobbish acting.”

  “Mariah also said that Loretta got pregnant during their senior year and had an abortion. She thought the deaths might be related to that.”

  “Wow. That would’ve brought on some ferocious Diffee gossip.” Tye’s forehead furrowed.

  The door squeaked open to reveal Delia in her red-and-yellow flowered dress. “Welcome back, Lexie. Did Tye tell you I had a doctor’s appointment this morning?”

  “No. I guess he forgot.”

  “I’m guilty as charged,” he confessed.

  “That’s a man for you. Why I never found me one.”

  “The way Cecil looks at you, I think he’s yours for the asking,” Lexie said with a smile.

  “Old Cecil’s better than most but he’d still be a lot of work.”

  “I’m not going to argue with that.”

  “Lexie, did you find out anything to help solve the murders?”

  “Some help, but not enough. You’ll read it all when you type up my notes. I’m going over to the county jail to find out if Wilbur’s ready to talk.” Lexie headed for the door.

  “He’s sure been anxious,” Delia replied. “He doesn’t seem to be enjoying his new home.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “Wilbur Langley,” Lexie said as the guard escorted her into the visiting area. “What did you want to tell me?”

  “This place is driving me nuts. I ain’t used to being cooped up all the time. I’m a woodsman. There are a lot of crazy men in here!”

  “Probably loony because you fried their brains with dru
gs.”

  “I’m ready to deal.” Wilbur’s voice was intense.

  “Are you now? So here’s my problem. I don’t know what I’m dealing for.”

  “Guess you just need to take a chance, Sheriff Girlie.”

  “Now wouldn’t I look like a fool if I helped a known criminal and got nothing in return?”

  “On the other hand, if you caught the murderer, people might not hate you quite so much.” The small balls of his eyes fixed on her.

  “I have to know what you found, Wilbur, before I’ll help you. Anyway, it was raining, so whatever you got is likely useless.” Lexie stood up and started toward the door.

  “No, don’t leave. You gotta help me.” He sounded desperate.”

  “I don’t want to help you, Wilbur, unless you have a clue to the murderer.”

  “It was under her body, so the rain didn’t hurt it. I’ll have to go with you. You won’t be able to find it.”

  Lexie called the guard back. “I need to talk to the jailer.”

  “I don’t know about this, Lexie,” Jailer Harris said. “We probably need to bring the judge in for this.”

  “I’m just borrowing him, Harris. Remember, I brought him in. He says he can lead me to a clue in Abbey’s murder. I got to find out if he has anything.”

  “Okay,” Harris growled, “but this is all on you if there’s a problem. Sign him out.”

  Harris handcuffed Wilbur and walked him out to the patrol car. Lexie locked him to the bar across the back seat.

  Lexie viewed Harris’ stiff stance as she turned the car out of the lot.

  “Good to see the woods again.” Wilbur said as he breathed in deeply when they reached their destination.

  Lexie pulled his arms behind him and cuffed the link from the bar onto his free hand. “Okay, Wilbur, lead the way. Remember, my gun is right behind you.”

  He walked for at least twenty minutes making curves among the trees and large rocks.

  “It’s here,” he hollered, pointing his chin toward an old saddlebag flung high in a tree.

  She was going to have a long climb, so she started securing Wilbur around the trunk of a tree. She faced him toward the tree and opened the ring from his right wrist in order to pull his arm in a circle reaching back to his left wrist. In one quick move, he ripped his arm from her grasp and swirled around. The metal ring slapped against her neck as he pushed her to the ground. He took off running.