Jeanne Glidewell - Lexie Starr 03 - Haunted

by Jeanne Glidewell

  “I’m so sorry, Roxie,” I said. I meant it too. “I really had no intention of getting you kicked out of class. I was afraid it would be my only opportunity to speak with you. Little did I know you’d be doing my nails today.”

  “Hmmph!” She clearly had not accepted my apology as readily as I’d expected. Her petite Asian boss was pointing Roxie back toward her station. She wasn’t about to let our petty little differences allow cold hard cash to walk out her salon’s door.

  “Come on,” Roxie said, after an exasperated sigh. “I’m in the last station, back in the back.”

  I didn’t say much at first, while she worked on my left hand. She had removed what little polish remained on my fingernails as I’d sat silently and watched. Roxie obviously had no desire to make small talk with me.

  Finally, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to chat with her about the murder investigation. If she was the person who was stalking me, and I really didn’t think she could be, she’d have to kill me with a fingernail file, because it was the closest thing she had to a weapon at her station.

  “I was surprised I didn’t run into you at Walter’s wake or funeral,” I said, finally, after clearing my throat.

  “The reason you didn’t run into me is because I wasn’t there.”

  “You weren’t?”

  “No. Why would I be? I had one lousy date with Walter. It’s not like we were long, lost friends or lovers. He spent the entire evening talking about Sidney,” Roxie said. “Even at the time, he had no intention of making any kind of connection with me. I was just a pawn in his game, in his desire to get Sidney to take him back.”

  “Didn’t that kind of tick you off?”

  “Well, sure, at the time. I was angry with him for using me. But now I’ve got a new boyfriend, and he’s fantastic. He’s everything Walter wasn’t. I really had no reason to want to see Walter dead. I wouldn’t risk my entire future just to get back at him. I only stopped by the inn the other day to let him know it was wrong to use women the way he used me, which was just to make his girlfriend jealous. I heard he had another date with a girl named Audrey. I’m sure he was just using her in the same fashion. He was a jerk. That’s all there is to it,” she said. “And I felt obligated to tell him he was a jerk, after I’d found out he was working at the haunted house. I’m a little too outspoken for my own good sometimes.”

  It didn’t sound to me as if Roxie had any real motive to kill Walter. One unromantic date would not cause a woman to want to see the fellow dead. She might have disliked Walter, but she didn’t hate him enough to kill him. She had no animosity against Sidney either. I got the impression they hadn’t even known each other well.

  “Do you know Sidney?” I asked.

  “No, not personally, I only know she’d dated Walter for a long time,” she replied. “Once they broke up I figured he was fair game, so I accepted his offer to go out on a date. After all, he was popular and good-looking, and I hadn’t been out on a date in months. It was a mistake, but I didn’t know it at the time I agreed to go.”

  “I understand,” I said, as I watched Roxie remove the old polish from my nails, which was about gone before I arrived. I had applied it myself, many days ago.

  “We went to eat at the Longhorn Steakhouse and then went on to the Legends Theatre for a movie. But I knew five minutes into dinner the relationship would never amount to anything. Walter talked about nothing but Sidney. It was very irritating. In fact, I asked him to take me home after we ate because it was obvious to me he would much rather be with Sidney. He apologized, but said he had promised me a movie and he was determined to take me to see one. I figured what the heck, since it was a movie I’d wanted to see. I don’t think we said one word to each other the entire time we were at the theater.”

  “I don’t suppose you’re a diabetic, are you?” I asked.

  “No, sorry. I’m happy to say I’m perfectly healthy.”

  It didn’t sound to me like she had any real reason to kill Walter, or to hurt Sidney in any way either. I’d come to a dead end with Roxie Kane. I sat silently while she buffed the nails on my right hand. I picked out a pale pink color for the polish. Once she had finished trimming and buffing the nails on my left hand, I excused myself to use the restroom. I’d had too much coffee, as usual, to wait much longer, and I knew it would take a while for the polish to dry once it was applied. I decided I’d best use the restroom while I could.

  After I flushed the toilet, I washed my hands, and ran a comb through my hair before returning to Roxie’s station. She started polishing the nails on my right hand, saying very little to me. I think she was still seething at me from getting her kicked out of her anatomy class.

  “Hey!” I heard the owner yell. “What’s going on back there?”

  I looked over at her, and she was pointing under the door of the restroom, where water was running out at a steady pace. It was pooling up in the rear of the salon, soaking into cardboard boxes on the floor, which were probably full of nail polishes, files, clippers, and other essential items for the salon.

  “What did you do in there?” the diminutive Asian lady asked me.

  “Nothing,” I answered. “I just used the bathroom, flushed the toilet, and washed my hands. That’s all I did.”

  She flung the door opened, and said, “The toilet is running over. If we don’t get it stopped and the floor mopped up quickly, we will have to close the salon down until the mess is cleaned up and the toilet is repaired. Otherwise, it would be a code violation, and also it’s hard to work around.”

  Both the owner and Roxie scowled at me, as if I were personally responsible for the faulty toilet. I hadn’t reached down into the tank and ripped out the guts of the toilet. Why were they glaring at me?

  “What have you done now?” Roxie asked me.

  “Nothing, Roxie. I swear I didn’t do anything but flush the toilet. It shouldn’t be clogged. I didn’t use an excessive amount of toilet paper or anything.” I blew on my fingernails as I got up and walked back toward the bathroom. I could at least turn the water off to the toilet, something the owner had yet to think about doing.

  Tiptoeing through the water, I reached inside the bathroom and flipped on the light switch. Zap! The bulb in the light fixture sparked, and then the electricity to the entire salon went out. The only windows were in the front of the salon, and it was very dark in the rear of the large room.

  “What have you done now?” the owner asked. “Now I’m most definitely going to have to shut the salon down.”

  “I didn’t do anything but turn the light on,” I said. “There must be something wrong with your wiring and your plumbing. Have you got a flashlight so I can turn the water off to the toilet?”

  The owner walked quickly up to the front off the store to retrieve a flashlight. I blew furiously on my nails, hoping to dry them out before I fiddled with the shut-off water valve. Roxie wouldn’t appreciate having to start over on polishing my nails. In the meantime, the water continued to pour over the top of the toilet bowl.

  “What are you trying to do to me?” Roxie asked. “I can’t afford to go home early. I need this money to put gas in my car, just to get to my classes this week. What have you got against me? Why are you trying to sabotage my workplace now?”

  “I’m not, Roxie. I have nothing against you at all. Nothing, Roxie, I promise,” I said. “I haven’t intentionally done anything to sabotage the salon. Listen, my boyfriend is out in the car. He’s very handy. I know he can fix the toilet and get the electricity back on. It’s probably nothing but a blown circuit breaker and something equally simple on the toilet.”

  “Please don’t do anything else to try to help us, ma’am. You’ve done enough already,” the owner said to me. I figured it was time for me to go. I could remove the nail polish from my right hand when I got home and have my nails done somewhere else at a later time. I headed toward the exit, but before I got there, the door opened, and a large, stern-looking gentleman walked in. Stone was rig
ht on the man’s heels.

  “I’m from the Missouri Board of Cosmetology. There’s been a recent report of unsanitary conditions at this salon. I’m here to do a thorough inspection, and also to check for valid state licenses,” he said. He looked toward the back of the room where all the chaos was taking place. “What in the hell is going on here? Why is it so dark in here?”

  “You!” The owner pointed at me, fury clearly etched across her brow. She stood in a pool of water, holding a flashlight in one hand and a mop in the other, and looking totally bewildered. She pointed the handle of the mop at me, and hollered, “Get out of my establishment, lady! Right now!”

  I knew at this point there was no convincing them I hadn’t called in the report of unsanitary conditions. Obviously, it’d been called in on a previous date. Until the toilet had spilled over, the salon had looked perfectly sanitary to me. Stone was staring at me as if I’d grown horns. I grabbed my coat off the coat rack, dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the front counter, and headed out the door. I didn’t look directly at Stone, or glance back at Roxie, the owner, the inspector, or the other customers and employees in the salon. I jumped into Stone’s Corvette, like it was a getaway car, and said, “Let’s go!”

  * * *

  Wendy and Andy arrived back at the inn just in time for supper. They were both wound up and rattling on about their day at the ranch. Andy had decided he was going to put in an offer on the place. He could line up things in Myrtle Beach and take possession of the ranch in early spring. He already had an experienced pilot interested in buying his charter flight business and he was living in a rental house, so moving out of it would pose no problem.

  “I’m delighted,” I said. Stone nodded in agreement.

  “I’d go ahead and close on the ranch now, though,” he said. “That way the Olsens can get moved into their assisted-living facility. I’ll try to fly back for a few days each month to get some work done on the farmhouse. And I’ll hire someone to take care of the livestock in the interim,” Andy said. “Uncle Stone, could you drive out and look over the place now and then?”

  “Of course,” Stone replied. “I’d be happy to keep an eye on the ranch for you.”

  After much more discussion about the T-n-T Ranch, the subject of my stalker came back up. Both Wendy and Andy were pleased to hear Stone was now my new personal chauffeur and bodyguard, so I wouldn’t be out and about alone. I didn’t tell them about my disastrous visit to the nail salon.

  * * *

  Supper consisted of barbeque pork ribs, potato salad, baked beans, and dinner rolls. The Dudleys were eating with friends tonight so pork was allowed on the menu. Most of the conversation centered on the T-n-T Ranch, and my presumed stalker. Wendy had invited Detective Wyatt Johnston to join us for dinner, and he agreed with Stone on the necessity of me having company on any outing, and also about keeping the inn locked up at all times.

  Wyatt seemed a bit discouraged by the progress the investigating team was making in the murder case. There were potential suspects with possible motives and questionable alibis, but not enough evidence to press charges against anyone. The interviews were ongoing, but the investigation had almost come to a standstill.

  The footprints had matched Roxie Kane’s boots, as had the single strand of hair found on the victim, but no reasonable motive could be attributed to her. A reward fund had been established for anyone who reported a tip leading to the apprehension and arrest of a suspect. So far, however, very few tips had come in, and all those had lead to dead ends.

  The rest of the evening’s conversation centered around the T-n-T Ranch, and Andy’s decision to put in an offer on it. Wyatt offered to help Andy in any way he could. He had friends in the Atchison Police Department, who could make extra trips out to drive by the property until Andy got moved in to the house.

  After supper, Wyatt went home, and Andy and Wendy went to a movie in St. Joseph. Stone and I watched an old classic John Wayne movie on the television. The Dudleys returned to the inn just as the old western concluded, and I locked the inn up behind them. Stone and I went to bed early. I finally fell sleep after I heard the kids come home from the movie.

  Chapter 21

  I woke up early on Saturday morning. I would be making three-egg spinach and mozzarella cheese omelets for breakfast, along with hash browns and English muffins. The potato salad was ready to go with the Dudleys to the family reunion. And I’d made an appointment for an oil change, at two o’clock at Boney’s Garage. I’d been assured Joey would be performing the service on my Jeep.

  I didn’t think any stalker in their right mind would be up and about at six in the morning, so I sat out on the back porch with a cup of coffee and the newspaper. The front-page news no longer centered on the death of the young college boy. The city council was feuding over whether or not the fountain in the city park needed to be replaced or merely refurbished. Funds were always tight in the small town of Rockdale. Apparently, emotions ran high on both sides of the issue.

  After I finished reading the paper and refilled my coffee cup, I sat on the porch reflecting on the list of suspects in my little notebook. Several I’d dismissed either because they had a strong alibi or because they lacked strong motives and had no passionate desire for retribution. I was still a wee bit suspicious of Walter’s half-brother, Chuck Sneed. There was more to his story than met the eye, but I knew there was no way I’d get Stone to take me back out to his house. And there was no way I’d even consider going out there alone. He seemed very “stalkerish” to me.

  I would have liked the opportunity to speak with Sidney Hobbs, but only to see if she had information on any of Walter’s enemies or acquaintances who might have a reason to want him dead. She was entirely too emotionally distraught to have committed the murder herself.

  I had never even considered any of the customers touring the haunted house the day of the murder as suspects. They were mostly harmless young ladies, with no connection to Walter, and small children. There was nothing remotely suspicious about any of them.

  I had removed Walter’s father, Clarence, from my list, because of a lack of any real motive for him to kill his own son. He had nothing to gain and seemed sincerely anxious to have his son take over his heating and cooling business.

  Walter’s mother, Melba, was another story. She seemed just crazy enough to do something completely bizarre and out of character, and then not remember doing it an hour later. She could have mistaken her son for someone who was out to get her, someone who wanted to hurt her in some way. But was she competent enough to come up with a plan of action like injecting insulin into someone to cause a low sugar reaction? I didn’t really think so. I felt it would be giving Melba more credit for intelligence and cunning than she was worthy of. And I knew she couldn’t have easily sneaked away from the in-home nursing staff, currently caring for her, to follow my vehicle out to the ranch.

  Roxie Kane had been reluctantly checked off my suspect list for having a near non-existent relationship with Walter, even though she had been with him just minutes before his death. Her one date was a “been there, done that, and moved on” type of thing. True, she’d been extremely upset with Walter, and she’d felt humiliated and used by him, but she really had nothing to gain by Walter’s death. She didn’t know Sidney well enough to crave any retribution against her either. Still, what little evidence existed pointed directly at Roxie, so I was prepared to put her back on my list if new details emerged to necessitate it.

  Walter’s relationship with his sister, Sheila Talley, was still questionable to me. She obviously had differences with him, particularly regarding their mother’s will and power-of-attorney status. Money could be a motive for her, and having Walter become Melba’s sole heir could well be a bitter bone of contention for her. But, yet, Sheila had been sincerely moved by sorrow at the loss of her brother, and I couldn’t quite visualize her carrying out such a devious and deadly deed. I guess I was still on the fence with Sheila too.

  Audrey
McCoy remained on my list. She might have wanted to exact revenge on Walter for using her to make Sidney jealous, knowing she was Sidney’s “archenemy.” She had substantial differences with both Walter and Sidney, and wasn’t afraid to voice her opinion of both in public. She made no secret of her disdain for Walter, or her dislike of Sidney.

  My main suspect at this point, however, was Melba’s attorney, Sheldon Wright, of Hocraffer, Zumbrunn, Kobialka, and Wright. He had a financial motive, the crafty intelligence necessary, and the conniving personality to pull off such an act. He was far too interested in the family’s financial situation, and incredibly impatient to get her paperwork done. In Melba’s condition, she could be persuaded to change anything he wanted her to change. And I still couldn’t fathom how anyone but Sheldon Wright could be responsible for running me down in the parking lot with his navy blue SUV. It seemed probable it was the same dark SUV that had followed Andy and Wendy to the T-n-T Ranch.

  I still wanted to talk to Walter’s best friend, Joey, today at Boney’s Garage while he changed my oil. Joey wasn’t even on my suspect list, but I surmised if anyone knew of any enemies Walter might have had, it would be Joey. I felt both the investigating team and I could be overlooking someone as a suspect entirely.

  For example, Walter could have beaten someone out for a starting position on the college basketball team, and that person might have desperately wanted the position. It didn’t seem to me to be worth killing someone over, but people had died for lesser reasons than a starting position on a basketball team. I’d heard of young men being killed for their tennis shoes, or jacket, or even the twenty-dollar bill in their pocket.

  But since I still believed Wright was the one who was currently stalking me, I wanted to pressure the authorities to delve further into his alibi and motives. If he was evil enough to try to harm me, he was evil enough to kill Walter, too. Had the investigators interviewed him thoroughly? Had they possibly even cleared him? Wyatt hadn’t mentioned him at supper, and I’d yet to hear of any alibi he might have had for the day Walter was murdered. There wasn’t anyone who could verify he was home alone at the time of Walter’s death.