Southern Fried Son of a Gun (A Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Book 4) (Willow Crier Cozy Mysteries)

by Lilly York

  They looked around to no avail. Jason wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Steve motioned Willow and she followed him down the hallway toward the office she was questioned in. That is where they found him, lip locked with Jordina. At least they assumed he had been since his lips were the same shade as her lipstick.

  “Oh, Willow. I’m sorry about yesterday. Really. I thought I was catching something. Turns out I was fine. Must have been my allergies.”

  Likely story Willow thought before she said, “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better. Maybe now you two can answer some questions for us.”

  Jason shook Steve’s hand. “Good to see you again, Sir.” Then nodded to Willow. “Ma’am.”

  Steve asked, “I couldn’t help but notice the place is hoppin’. What’s up?”

  “We’re having a grand re-opening. I’ve got some local bands set up outside, the range fees are half price, we’ve got ribs and chicken on the smoker, and we’re having a grand prize package drawing of 500 bucks worth of supplies. This is just the beginning. I’ve got some ideas on bringing new blood to the place. I know Clancy kept it on the down low, but, he could afford to. I’d like to bring some updates, new equipment that sort of thing. Maybe some fresh décor.” He pulled Jordina down to him. “Jordina’s offered to help me on that end.”

  Steve was perplexed. “Did you send out a notice to the normal club members? I didn’t get one. And I even have email.”

  Jason looked to Jordina. “That was on your list. Hopefully you didn’t forget.”

  She looked sheepish. “I think I might have.”

  Jason’s face fell. “I’m really sorry about that.” He turned to Jordina. “Why don’t you send out a quick email? It’s still early in the day and we’ll be going ‘til evening.”

  She signed in on his desktop and apparently sent the invite.

  Willow smiled. He really was a nice guy. Hopefully these two were as upright at they seemed. Willow wasn’t so sure. Especially about Jordina. Something wasn’t right with that girl. One minute she was upset and claiming her grandfather killed Clancy. The next she was out eating cotton candy and riding carnival rides with her secret boyfriend.

  She asked, “So, why did you hide the fact you’re in a relationship?”

  Jason looked to Jordina who was still messing around on the computer. “I didn’t want to hide it, but Jordina thought with everything else going on it might be wise.” He continued. “After thinking about it, I decided she was right. We didn’t want anyone thinking poorly of us. Nor did we want anyone thinking we had anything to do with Clancy’s murder.”

  Willow asked Jason directly, “Why did you go to Clancy’s cabin after he was murdered?”

  “I feel really bad about that. He owed me some money and told me he had a check made out to me but forgot it at home. He was getting older and he often would forget things. Anyway, I really needed the money. I already explained that to the detective.”

  Willow raised her eyebrows toward Jordina. “Does your grandfather smoke?”

  Jordina shook her head. “Nope, he used to during the war but he stopped before I was born.”

  “What about you?”

  “Um, yeah, why do you ask?”

  She made eye contact with Steve then looked back to Jason. “No reason. Just wondering.”

  Steve pulled her to the corner of the room and whispered, “I thought you were certain Birdie murdered Clancy.”

  She whispered back, “I am.”

  “Then why are we questioning these two?”

  “Just to be sure.” She shook her head then went back to Jordina. “Are you in possession of Clancy’s cabin? And his belongings?”

  Jordina nodded.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get in there. There’s something I need to check.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that…”

  “Why, do you have something to hide?”

  “No, fine, go ahead. I haven’t had a chance to go through anything yet so everything he owned should still be there.”

  “Have you had the locks changed?”

  “No,” she addressed Steve. “Your key should still work.”

  Willow climbed in Steve’s truck. “I’d like to see Abel. Can you arrange it?”

  Steve nodded. “Already done. He can have visitors.”

  She waited, expectantly.

  “Oh, you want to go now? Or after we go to the cabin?”

  “I think now. I want him to recant his confession.”

  “The OKC police are just going to love you.”

  Willow sat down across from the prisoner. “Abel, I know you didn’t kill Clancy.”

  “Yes, yes, I did. I electrocuted him. I set up those wires to run hot and I pushed him back so he’d step on them. I murdered him, all right. And he deserved it too.”

  “What if I told you your granddaughter didn’t kill him either?”

  Abel sat a bit straighter. “Well, of course she didn’t. Because I did.”

  Even though Abel was wasn’t backtracking, yet, Willow could see him implore her with his gaze to explain. “I know who killed Clancy. And it wasn’t your granddaughter.” She looked to Steve who was warning her with a shake of his head. She turned back to Abel. “I need to know, did you really kill him?”

  Abel just stared, he didn’t say a word.

  “Tell me. The police are going to lock you up. You’ll never see Jordina fall in love, get married, have your great-grandchildren. You’ll never get the attention due you for your service in Vietnam. Your service, the heroic acts you performed and had stolen from you. Why wait all these years to get your revenge? Why now?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “I’ll tell you why, because you didn’t do it. You didn’t kill him and you know it and I know it. The only reason you’re here is because you love Jordina more than you love your own life. You know she has a selfish streak and you have no idea how she got it. She may be selfish, she may twist things to get her own way, but she’s not a murderer.”

  He finally spoke. “Can you prove it?”

  She nodded. “I believe I can. You need to recant your confession so the police will look further. They won’t listen to me with you in here saying you did it.”

  “I have your word you’ll find the real killer and you’ll clear Jordina?”

  “You have my word.”

  “Then I’ll do it.”

  Chapter 16

  “You have a lot of nerve coming in here and messing with our perp. He’s confessed. We have it on tape. You think we’re just gonna let him go because he changed his mind?” The detective was not happy with Abel’s about-face.

  “Even if he didn’t do it?”

  The officer threw up his hands in exasperation. “And how, pray tell, do you know this? How do you know he didn’t do it?”

  “Because I know who really did it, that’s why.”

  He crossed his arms. “Does this have anything to do with the woman you chased into a pig pen at the state fair?”

  “OK, technically, I did chase her. But she’s the one who decided to jump into the pig pen. I just went in after her. And yes, it’s her.”

  “The woman admitted to stealing a recipe. That was her crime. We’ve already talked to Clancy’s heir and she isn’t pressing charges. And you’ll do well to steer clear of her or you’re the one who’ll be serving some time in county lock up.”

  It was Willow’s turn to be short on patience. The man wasn’t listening. “Fine. If I come in here with evidence, will you at least look into what I find?”

  She slammed the door to Steve’s truck. “Now we go to the cabin. I need to check something.” Just as she suspected, the picture she’d seen in Clancy’s scrapbook was missing. The picture with the woman who looked a lot like Birdie with Clancy’s arm wrapped around her shoulders. When she saw it the first time she’d paused on it because the woman looked so much like Birdie. Shorter blond hair, obviously a style from the 70’s, but if you put a picture of Birdie next to the picture i
n the scrapbook, the two women could have been twins. Willow suspected that it was actually Birdie’s mother.

  She and Steve started digging through boxes, searching for a duplicate or another picture of Birdie’s mom. Willow needed something to prove Birdie stole more than a recipe.

  She called Embry. “Hey, I need you to do an internet search for me. Look up a Garth Weber. I think Garth is his middle name. His first name could be Richard or Dick, I’m not sure. See if there is any connection between him and Birdie Townsend.” She paused. “You know what, do a search on both of them and see if you come up with anything. Let me know as soon as you can.”

  Willow was digging in the office closet while Steve was searching the bedroom.

  Steve called out, “Found something.”

  Willow dropped what she had in her hands and found him kneeling on the bedroom floor.

  “Here, take these.” He handed her several paper picture envelopes to sort through. He had a few as well.

  She quickly scanned the pictures in her piles. “Nothing here. How about yours?”

  He shook his head. “There’s more boxes up there. Looks like this is where he stored his memories. He’s got to have more than that one picture.” Steve brought several more boxes from the top shelf.

  Willow found a whole box full of old pictures. Most of them were in great condition since they had been protected from the elements for so long. “Bingo.” She found an exact duplicate of the picture in the scrapbook as well as a few others, including one of Birdie’s mother holding a trophy and a piece of fried chicken. “No!” She held up the picture for Steve to view. “Steve, look at his…” She handed him a picture of Birdie’s mom holding a baby. “You don’t think…?”

  “The only thing I know for sure is I want some answers.” He gathered up the pictures, put the boxes back where they found them, and then left. “We’ll start with Garth. He’s the only one we haven’t met with. I want to know what his relationship is with Birdie. Did Embry call you back yet?”

  Willow glanced at her phone. “Not yet. But, let’s present him with the evidence. He’s gonna sing.”

  “Sing? What crime shows have you been watching lately?” He gave her a sideways glance. “You ever think about becoming a pro? Maybe get your private investigator license?”

  “Nah, I’ll leave that to you professionals.”

  He laughed out loud then murmured. “Yeah, that’ll be the day.”

  Just before they arrived at Garth’s house, Embry called. “Mom, Garth is Birdie’s uncle. As in, her mother’s brother.”

  That little bit of information caused Willow to catch her breath.

  “Oh, and something else I found out. Her mother won the Southern Fried Chicken Cook-Off back in the early 70’s. Apparently the recipe was handed down and she was going to start up a fried chicken franchise. Something happened and she never got around to it. That was the last time she competed in the cook-off and she won first place. She died shortly after having a baby out of wedlock and the baby was adopted. Birdie’s mom’s death was mysterious, and foul play was suspected but nothing was ever proven. The father never did step up and claim the baby. Birdie must have found out who her birth mother was and went from there. That would explain why she waited so long to get revenge.” Embry paused. “Oh, and Birdie won first place for her southern fried chicken the other day. You don’t think…”

  Willow didn’t know what to think. “It can’t be the same recipe, can it?” They finished their conversation and Willow ended the call.

  Willow repeated the conversation for Steve. “Do you believe me now?”

  They both approached the nondescript grey house with the intention of questioning Garth. As they neared the front door, Garth, whom they both could see clear as day through the front picture window, ran out the back door in a feeble attempt to escape.

  Steve said, “Why do they always do that? He’s at least 65 years old and out of shape. How far does he think he’s going to get?”

  Willow simply replied, “Your turn.” Then she watched Steve run around the house into the back yard where the man was still trying to climb the chain link fence.

  Steve just stood there then cleared his throat.

  The big guy stepped away from the fence. “It always looks easier on television.”

  Steve just nodded his head in disbelief. “Let’s go in and talk, shall we?”

  They opened the front door for Willow who asked Steve, “Why do you always get the easy ones? Seriously!”

  Garth sat down, panting, and out of breath with sweat dripping down his already glistening forehead. “What do you guys want?”

  Willow answered. “We wanted to talk to you. Now we want to know why you were running.” She rolled her eyes. “What is wrong with people?” She muttered as she waited for Garth to respond. “

  “I wasn’t running. I was going for a walk, getting some exercise.”

  “Over a chain link fence?”

  “I thought I’d take a shortcut.”

  Steve waved him off. “Forget it. Let’s get down to what is going on with you and Birdie.”

  “Me… and Birdie?” He stammered. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You were at her house the other day, the day I stopped by for a visit. What were you doing there? You left awfully fast when you saw me at the door.” Willow tapped her foot.

  “I was fixing her television. It went out on her.”

  “You were fixing her television? The one hanging on the wall above the fireplace?”

  He stuttered. “Uh… yeah, I’d just hung it back up when you rang the bell.”

  She nodded her head. “That’s weird because Birdie told me you were there to fix her oven.”

  Garth’s face deepened and his breathing came in short pants.

  “Look why don’t we help you out? We know you’re Birdie’s uncle. We’ve got that much. We know you broke into Clancy’s house and stole the picture from the scrapbook.” Willow picked up an ashtray. “And I bet if we compared these cigarette butts to the ones we found just inside the woods, I’m betting we’ll have a match.”

  Steve took over. “The job you did for Birdie wasn’t on a television or a stove, it was on the wiring at the gun range.” He glanced at Willow. “This guy’s guilty. He murdered Clancy.”

  Garth started gasping for breath. “No, I didn’t kill him. Birdie did it. I was the look out. I just let her know when he was out there for his smoke break.”

  Steve corrected him. “You also took care of tampering with the electrical. You willingly and knowingly provided the murder weapon.”

  “That’s all I did, I swear. Birdie’s the one who pushed him backward into the live wires.”

  Steve handcuffed Garth to the porch railing, called a patrol car to pick him up, and then hightailed it to the truck. “Come on, we’ve got to get Birdie.” He called to Willow who was, as his mama would say, grinning like a ‘possum eating a sweet potato.

  Chapter 17

  Willow and Steve circled Birdie’s house. Nothing. No signs of life. Willow’s phone rang. She ignored it. They had to find Birdie.

  Steve looked through a window. The place was a disaster. He broke a window and declared, “probable cause.” After crawling through the now open window he carefully checked all the rooms for Birdie or some clue as to what happened before opening the door for Willow.

  Willow’s phone rang again. This time she glanced at the number. It looked familiar to her but she couldn’t place it. Probably a salesman. The phone beeped. The caller left a voice mail. She ignored it, again, then turned off the ringer.

  Willow wandered the living room. She looked over the television. The dust on the back confirmed what she had figured all along, Garth didn’t touch Birdie’s television. She doubted he touched her stove either. As she walked closer to the couch, a vague scent captured her attention. It was familiar to her, but how? She bent down and gave the couch a good sniff. “Jordina!” She pulled out her phone, which had r
ang another three times since she had muted the thing, and listened to the voicemail.

  “Steve!”

  Steve came running. She replayed the voicemail on speaker.

  “Willow, Birdie here. Meet me at the cabin. Alone. I have Jordina. We need to talk with you.”

  Steve spoke up. “You’re not going there alone so don’t even think it.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. The woman’s gone mad. I’m gonna need all the help I can get.”

  Twenty minutes later Willow pulled up in front of Clancy’s cabin. Well, technically, Jordina’s cabin now. She sat still for a few minutes wondering what was happening on the other side of the door and what she would find when she worked up the courage to go in. She steeled herself. She knew Steve was lurking in the woods nearby. He would get closer as soon as she was in the cabin and distracting Birdie from her normal jumpy self. She needed a chill pill, maybe some of those drugs they give kids these days to keep them sitting still at their desks.

  She opened her car door and slowly walked toward the cabin, watching for movement from any of the street facing windows. Everything was still.

  Willow raised her hand to knock and the door opened marginally, a hand reached out, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her in. Just as quickly the door closed behind her.

  Willow’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness within the cabin. She looked around and heavy drapes were pulled over the windows. No wonder she couldn’t see any movement. Sitting in a chair in the middle of the room was Jordina. She was tied at the feet and the hands. Her mouth was stuffed with what looked like a sock and her eyes were the complete description of fear. She grunted, trying to talk but nothing coming out was intelligible. Willow wanted to remove the sock but thought better of it. She followed Jordina’s eyes which were looking toward Willow’s right.

  Birdie stood in the shadows with her handgun pointed at Willow. She decided to appeal to her southern practicalities. “Birdie, is that any way to treat a guest? You call me to your father’s home then point a gun at me?”