All In The Family

by Roseanne Dowell

  “Not really.” She closed her notebook. “How about yours?”

  “Could be anyone. I got his address, in case we want to ask him anything else. Not that I believe it’s his real address. From the smell of him, he doesn’t have a home. Description wasn’t much help but better than nothing.” Jim shook his head. “For the most part the description matches any number of people in the crowd. Guess we better notify the widow. Peters, come with us. You sure you’re okay, Callie? Peters and I can handle it if your knee’s bothering you.”

  “I’m fine. Thanks.”

  When they arrived at the Winfield home, Callie took a deep breath, swallowed back the bitter taste in her mouth, while Jim knocked on the door. She hated this part of the job more than any other. As bad as it was seeing a victim, informing the next of kin was the pits. She’d only had to do it twice before.

  A young woman opened the door, looked between Callie and Jim. “Yes, can I help you?”

  What a looker. At five foot one with a well-shaped figure, long blond hair and big blue eyes, she reminded Callie of her niece’s Barbie dolls. Didn’t seem concerned that cops were at her door. Not a reaction they usually got.

  “Mrs. Winfield?”

  “Ye... Is something wrong?” Her hand gripped the doorknob.

  “I’m Chief Landry.” Jim nodded toward Callie. “My partner, Chief Johnson.” They flashed their badges. “I’m sorry we have bad news.”

  She backed up, swung the door open, and motioned for them to enter. “What is it?”

  Finally, a reaction.

  “I’m afraid your husband’s dead.” Jim sounded sympathetic, but direct.

  There wasn’t an easy way to tell someone about the death of a loved one?

  The woman’s eyes filled with tears. Callie studied her reactions. Her hands trembled. She reached out and grabbed Jim’s arm. He led her to the couch and motioned for Callie to bring her a glass of water.

  “I know this is difficult for you, Mrs. Winfield.”

  She shook her head and stared past him. Her fingers combed through her hair, pulled it over her face, and with a quick toss of her head, it fell back into place. "I can’t believe it. Peter’s dead?”

  Jim allowed her a few minutes to compose herself. “Did your husband have any known enemies?”

  “Peter? Enemies?” She stood, crossed her arms over her chest, and walked to the window. “He was the kindest, sweetest man I’ve ever known." She stared out the window. “No, Peter didn’t have any enemies.”

  Did Callie detect a hint of sarcasm in Mrs. Winfield’s tone? Something didn’t sit right here. “Where were you at five o’clock?” Callie doubted she could have overcome her muscular husband, but she had to ask. Besides, there was something about the woman, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  Mrs. Winfield turned toward Callie. Her eyes narrowed into tiny slits. "I won’t dignify that with an answer.”

  “Sorry, I had to ask.” Callie shivered at the sudden coldness in the woman’s tone. Quite a change from the helpless woman a few minutes earlier.

  Mrs. Winfield paced the room like a caged lioness. Her reaction and anger weren’t normal for a bereaved widow. The hair on Callie’s arms prickled. Call it a gut feeling, but something didn’t feel right. She glanced at Jim. Yep, he sensed it too.

  Callie concentrated on distracting Helen, while Jim walked around the apartment.

  “How long have you been married?”

  “Five years.”

  Callie watched Jim out of the corner of her eye- that’s how she was trained to work as part of a team. He paused near a table, looked at her and lowered his eyes. Even from across the room, she saw the half-smoked cigarette butts in the ashtray. A nod from Jim told her they matched the one in the park. He looked toward the bedroom door. Callie’s gaze followed. It stood slightly ajar. Was someone hiding in there, watching, listening? Something told her yes.

  Jim signaled they were ready to leave. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Winfield, we’ll be in touch,” he said.

  Outside, they set their plan. A gut feeling wouldn’t’ stand up in court and right now they didn’t have enough for a search warrant.

  “The cigarette butts don’t belong to Mrs. Winfield, her breath didn’t smell, and that particular brand has a distinctive odor of cloves.” Jim said.

  “So what do you want to do?” Callie asked. “We can try for a search warrant. Gram would probably give us one.”

  “Nah. By time we got one all the evidence might be gone. Mrs. Winfield had something to do with this. I’d bet my life on it.”

  Callie looked up at the apartment window. The curtain moved. Someone was watching them. “Let’s go back in. I’ll ask a few more questions. You nose around; maybe find out who’s hiding behind the bedroom door.”

  “Let’s go.” Jim said.

  I knocked on the door and this time Mrs. Winfield’s welcome lacked warmth.

  “Yeah...” Her harsh tone left a lot to be desired.

  She opened the door part way. “What is it? I thought you were through here.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Winfield, I just have a few more things I need to clear up.” Callie pulled a notebook from her pocket. “Just a few more questions, it won’t take long. A couple things I forgot. Can we come in?”

  She hesitated. An annoyed look flickered in her face, but she backed up, opened the door, and allowed entry. “How can I help you?”

  “Well for starters, what did Peter do for a living?”

  “He was a Landscape Architect.”

  “Uh huh.” Callie wrote in the notebook. “I’m going to need a list of his employees. Did he fire anyone lately?”

  Mrs. Winfield paced and chewed on her finger nail. “I don’t know much about Peter’s business. You’ll have to ask his secretary.”

  Jim inched his way toward the bedroom door, while Callie continued the questions.

  “How about your marriage, did you get along?”

  “As well as other couples.” Anger flared in her eyes. “What’s this all about? You certainly don’t think I killed Peter?”

  “Any major problems in your marriage? Was Peter seeing someone else?” Callie ignored her anger.

  Mrs. Winfield became enraged. “Are you suggesting I strangled my husband?”

  “I never said he was strangled.” Gotcha.

  As if suddenly aware of Jim’s movements, Mrs. Winfield turned toward him. “What do you...?”

  Jim looked at Callie, grinned and slammed the bedroom door inward. A thud and loud groan came from inside the room.

  “What have we here?” A man, matching the suspect’s description, lay on the floor when Jim opened the door. "On your face,” Jim snarled.

  The man glared at Helen.

  “It wasn’t me!” She lashed out. “He killed Peter, he threatened to kill me.” Callie grabbed her arms, pulled them behind her back, and slapped on cuffs. “You have to believe me,” Mrs. Winfield pleaded.

  Jim pulled the other suspect up by his shirt and read them their rights.

  The man glared, mouth tightened in fury. “It was all her idea,” he hissed. “She said we’d be rich.”

  How quickly lovers turn against each other.

  Jim shook his head, opened the door and called to Peters. “Take them away.” He brushed his hands in disgust. “Peter, Peter pumpkin eater, had a wife and couldn’t keep her, now the note makes sense.” Jim muttered as they followed the officer outside.

  Back at the station, Callie poured each of them a cup of coffee. “I wanted to talk to you about the applicants. So far I’m leaning toward Sam. I like the idea of training him our way. What do you think?”

  “Well now, I don’t want to influence you. They’re all good men. Any one of them would fit in with our department. That’s your decision to make.” Jim leaned back in the chair and folded his hands over his stomach. “By the way, something I wanted to talk to you about, too.”

  Uh oh, something told her Jim was sorry he was re
tiring. What would that mean for her? She took a sip of coffee, cleared her throat and looked him in the eye. Whatever he decided, she was the new chief. Of course the mayor could rescind that. “What’s that?”

  “Well, I was thinking and maybe I jumped the gun on this retirement thing a bit.” He raised his hand to quiet a response from her. “Not saying I’m sorry I made the decision, but I’m thinking maybe just cutting back. What do you think about taking me on part time? I always thought we needed another body to help out from time to time.”

  “Sure, Jim. That sounds good, but will the mayor go for it?”

  “We talked about it a while back. He wasn’t against it. I just never put it into play.”

  “Okay, what do you have in mind?”

  “Maybe a couple days a week. Tuesdays and Thursdays, more if something comes up.”

  “I think we can work that out. I’ll talk to the mayor later.” Callie looked at her watch. “I have to run. I have those interviews set up for this evening. So, you sure you don’t have any advice on which one I should hire?”

  “Nope, completely up to you. It’s your show. Run it how you want.”

  Gram came in just as Callie was walking out. “Callie, I heard you were up and about. Glad to see you’re back to normal.”

  “Thanks, Gram.” Callie kissed her cheek. “Do you need something? I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

  “No, dear, go ahead. I came to see Jim.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you Sunday.” Came to see Jim, hmm, more there than met the eye. Maybe Gram was finally doing something about it. Too bad she didn’t have time to hang around. But she’d find out about it later. Everyone in town would, especially if they started up a relationship. Already, she could imagine the gossip. The ex chief and the judge. As if there was something sinful about it.

  Chapter 13

  No sooner did Callie pull in her drive when her Aunt pulled in after her. Talk about a surprise. Callie got out of the car and waited for her.

  “Aunt Beatrice Lulu, what are you doing here?”

  “Can’t an aunt visit her niece?”

  “Of course, you can. I’m just surprised to see you, that’s all.” Callie unlocked the door and held it open for her aunt to enter first.

  “Hmph. How are you getting along? I heard you had a knee brace and didn’t need the crutches or wheelchair anymore.”

  “I’m doing quite well. Thank you.” Something strange going on. Her aunt seldom visited, at least not without calling first. “Would you like something to drink? Iced tea? Coffee? Cola?”

  “No, thank you dear, can we sit down?”

  “Of course.” Callie followed her aunt to the living room and sat down. Something was definitely up.

  “Did you send the wheelchair back, dear? You do know it was rented?”

  “Yes, I sent it back as soon as I found out I didn’t need it anymore. They’re not still billing you for it, are they?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I just wanted to be sure you sent it back.” Aunt Beatrice Lulu traced her finger in the dust around the coaster.

  “So, what brings you here this time of the day?”

  “I just wanted to see how you were doing. Make sure everything was okay. You don’t need anything?”

  Callie stood. “No, I’m fine. You don’t mind if I go change real quick, I have a couple interviews this evening.”

  “No, that’s fine dear. Go ahead.” Aunt Beatrice Lulu picked up a magazine from the coffee table.

  Odd that she made no effort to leave. Callie shrugged and hurried to her room.

  “Callie, there’s a police officer here to see you.” Aunt Beatrice Lulu knocked on the bedroom door and peeked inside.

  “Only five o’clock. My first appointment isn’t until six. Maybe he misunderstood.” Callie pulled the blouse over her head. “Tell him I’ll be right out.”

  Aunt Beatrice Lulu stood for a minute. “You’re wearing that ugly blouse?”

  Callie looked at the blue blouse. “Yes, what’s wrong with it?” Perfectly good blouse, nothing fancy, plain, ordinary, no ruffles, no bric brac. Just simple, blue cotton.

  “Really, Callie, it does nothing for you. Wear that pretty pink one Aunt Emma bought you for Christmas.”

  “It’s just an interview, Aunt Beatrice Lulu.” At the look on her aunt’s face, Callie took the blouse off and pulled the pink one out of the closet. It was pointless to argue.

  “That’s much better, dear.”

  “Good, go tell Sam Vansworth I’ll be right out.”

  Callie ran a comb through her hair, smoothed her blouse and hurried into the living room. A tall, muscular man dressed in uniform stood waiting for her. Aunt Beatrice Lulu sat on the couch, a silly smirk on her face.

  Oh crap, that wasn’t Sam Vansworth. This was another set up, another man for her to meet. She should have known when her aunt told her to change her blouse. Where in the world did her aunt find him? Callie no more looked at her aunt for explanation when music blared. The man stepped forward, swayed his hip to one side and swung the other hip out seductively, thrusting his pelvis toward her. She backed up and fell into a chair. He continued grinding his hips almost in her face, keeping time with the music.

  “Oh dear.” Aunt Beatrice Lulu’s mouth dropped open. She gasped and fell back on the couch.

  He whipped off his shirt and slipped it behind Callie’s neck. Not bad if Callie said so herself, but what the hell was going on? Where in the world did her aunt pick this guy up? Surely she hadn’t hired him.

  Aunt Beatrice Lulu made the sign of the cross. “Mother Mary, Jesus, and Joseph!” The horrified look on her face almost made it worth while. Maybe she’d learn a lesson. You just didn’t go around picking up men. .

  The music continued to blare. The man flung his shirt to the floor and seductively thrust his pelvis in front of Callie’s face, easing his zipper down. Before she could stop him, he whipped his pants off, exposing a brief covering of his private parts. He swung his pants above his head, leaned down. His warm breath blew across her cheeks.

  Aunt Beatrice Lulu yelped, covered her eyes, and laid face down on the couch. “Callie, do something,” she shouted.

  “Okay, Mister. That’s enough.” Callie pushed back her chair, knocking it over, picked up his shirt and threw it at him. “What’s going on here? Who hired you? And for God’s sake, put your clothes on.”

  “Um, uh, sorry ma’am. Didn’t mean to offend.” He straightened up. “This was compliments of Emma, Lottie, and Beatrice Lulu.”

  “What!” Aunt Beatrice Lulu sat straight up.

  The man turned toward her and his private parts, covered only in a thong, came smack dab eye level with her aunt. Sure didn’t leave much to the imagination. Aunt Beatrice Lulu covered her eyes and turned her head, face flaming red.

  “I most certainly didn’t have anything to do with hiring you.” She pulled herself up off the couch. “Emma and Lottie said they found a match maker website and signed Callie up. I gave my approval, but we certainly didn’t hire anyone.” Aunt Beatrice Lulu crossed her arms over her ample chest and puffed out her lips.

  By this time, the man at least had his pants on as he smiled at her aunt and said, “I’m afraid it wasn’t a matchmaking site.”

  “But Emma said it advertised meeting the man of your dreams. That special someone. And something about needing excitement and having the time of your life. Oh dear. The date they reserved wasn’t for a date, was it? It was for …” She waved her hand toward him. “This…this…act.”

  Callie sighed. Only her aunts could make a mistake like that. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid my aunts are a bit out dated, so to speak. Thank you for understanding.” Callie hurried to the door and held it open.

  “Sorry for the misunderstanding. If you’d like to go out sometime, I mean with me, for real, not as a stripper.” He stopped in the doorway and his face actually turned red.

  “Thank you. I’m seeing someone.” Callie closed the door behind him, went back
into the living room ready to ream out her aunt.

  Aunt Beatrice Lulu’s voice stopped her. “Emma, it was horrible. You should have been here. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”

  “Of course it wasn’t a dating service, you idiot. He wasn’t a policeman, he was a male stripper. Next time you want to sign Callie up for a dating service, make sure it’s really a dating service. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.”

  “Let that be a lesson to all of you. Quit trying to fix me up with men,” Callie said loud enough for her aunt to hear on the other end of the phone. “I’d appreciate it if you’d all stay out of my business from now on.” It sounded harsh, but that was the only way to get through to these three. A dating service. Of all the harebrained schemes, this one took the cake. She thought she’d seen it all with those three, but this one topped everything.

  ***

  After the interviews, Callie made her decision. She liked all the men. They all had valid reasons for wanting to work in Smytheville. Too bad she couldn’t hire all three. Initially, she wanted Sam, but after talking to them, she changed her mind and chose Milt Foley. Besides the fact he was experienced, she liked his family values. With ties here in town, she wouldn’t have to worry about him looking for greener pastures in a big city. That was her main concern with Sam Vansworth. Something he said about a stepping stone to Columbus, Dayton or Cleveland. She didn’t need to go through this process again in a few years. Josh Wilton caused the same concern. She did suggest they apply over in Northton to replace Milt.

  She called Milt. “When can you start?”

  “I’d like to give two weeks’ notice plus my wife and I need time to find a place.”

  “Sounds fair. Two weeks it is.”

  Now that was settled, she decided to run out for a bite to eat. Never was one who liked to cook for just herself. Besides, after being cooped up at her aunt’s, she needed to see people.”

  It didn’t take long for the rumors to start. Already people were talking about Gram and Jim having lunch together.

  “I noticed Jim Landry’s car at your grandmother’s this evening on my way into work,” Jill, my waitress said.