Hemlock for the Holidays

by Paula Darnell

  I didn't wait to hear any more. Despite the carpet on the floor, I tiptoed back to the den so that Bob wouldn't realize I'd heard part of his conversation.

  I didn't have time to collect my thoughts because Melinda and her son, a gangling young teenager, showed up mere seconds after I did.

  “Bobby, help Ms. Trent hold that painting up over the sofa so that I can see how I like it there.”

  Bobby, who was stronger than he looked, easily lifted his end of the painting. We held it in place for what seemed forever, while Melinda viewed it from different angles around the room. Finally, she motioned for us to lower the canvas.

  “I think it will do nicely,” she said. My excitement over the sale was tempered by what I'd heard her husband say, but I wasn't about to turn her down. Maybe I had misunderstood what Bob meant, but I had a feeling that wasn't the case. I waited while Melinda wrote me a check and then thanked her.

  “Wait a minute. The painting will definitely need to be framed. I don't have time to deal with it today. Could you drop it off at the frame shop at the Resort and tell Brooks I'll be in tomorrow to select a frame?”

  “Yes, I can do that.” I could almost hear her say “there's a good girl” in a patronizing way, but, of course, my imagination was running away with me.

  It wouldn't be fun lugging the weighty canvas through the Resort's mall to get to Brooks's frame shop, located next door to his gallery, but, at this point, I didn't want to do anything that might cause Melinda to change her mind.

  I drove straight to Lonesome Valley Resort, dropped off the canvas, and got a receipt from one of Brooks's assistants. On the way home, I stopped at the bank and deposited Melinda's check. Normally, I would have felt ecstatic after making such a big sale, and the timing of it couldn't have been better, but the knowledge that Melinda's husband was trying to manipulate legal proceedings both shocked and angered me, and I knew I'd have to tell someone about it, but who?

  The chief, the local bar association, Josh? Or maybe all three.

  Chapter 28

  Belle was coming out of her house with Mr. Big tugging on his leash, but the little dog wasn't making much progress since Belle was stronger than he was, but that didn't stop him from trying.

  I waved as I pulled into my driveway. When I parked in my carport, Belle and Mr. Big came to greet me.

  “How did it go with the mayor?” she asked.

  “She bought my painting.”

  “Great news! Why don't you look happier?”

  “Oh, Belle, I found out something that, well, let's just say it upset me, Come in, and I'll tell you all about it.”

  “Do you mind if we go for a walk? Mr. Big's been antsy since I got up this morning. Some exercise will do him good.”

  “Sure, let's do that. Laddie's always up for a walk.” He'd had one earlier, but the more, the better, as far as he was concerned. “I'll just be a second.”

  I went into the kitchen while Belle waited outside for me to return with Laddie, who was, indeed, raring to go. He joyfully greeted his pal, and we started on our way.

  Belle could barely contain herself as she waited for me to explain why I wasn't jumping up and down with glee over having sold one of my most expensive works.

  I launched into my story and told Belle everything I'd heard Bob Gibbs say. “The man he was talking to has to be Eric's lawyer. He must be Josh's lawyer now. According to Chip, he's already indicated that the case isn't worth pursuing. The guy told Bob he was 'handling it.'”

  “I'm confused,” Belle said. “Why would the mayor's husband be involved in any of this?”

  “Remember the mayor's assistant who came to my studio tour on Friday?”

  “Sure, the lonely young woman.”

  “Right. You may not have heard everything she said, but she told me that Bob Gibbs was a silent partner in a helicopter tour business. Emphasis on 'silent,' I guess, because then she indicated that she probably shouldn't have told me that.”

  “I see. The helicopter tour company may have been responsible for Eric Thompson's wife's death. I wonder why Eric waited so long to bring the suit.”

  “According to Susan, he hadn't been functioning very well since his wife Natalie's death in the crash. Evidently, he hadn't decided until lately that he'd sue. We think he wanted to show Susan a copy of the lawsuit the night we found him. He'd told her he expected to come into a great deal of money soon.”

  “Sounds as though that lawyer encouraged him.”

  “Yes, it does, but, I'm guessing that when Gibbs found out from his partner that the company was being sued, he must have decided to bribe the attorney. Eric's death came at an opportune moment for him because Josh didn't know anything about the lawsuit. He only knows whatever Eric's lawyer has told him.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I think I should report it to the police and Josh, too. What do you think?”

  “I agree. Hopefully, the police can get to the bottom of it, and Josh can get himself a different lawyer.”

  An hour later, I was climbing the six steps to the door of the police station. A young uniformed officer I didn't recognize sat at the reception desk, but Dave Martinez was coming down the hallway as I entered, so I bypassed the young officer and waved to catch Dave's attention.

  “Hi, Amanda. What's up?”

  “I have a bit of a dilemma. I overheard . . . .” I stopped and looked around. The officer who was sitting at the reception desk didn't act as though he were paying any attention to us, and there was nobody else around except the three of us, but, just to be on the safe side, I motioned for Dave to come closer and lowered my voice to a whisper. I repeated what I'd heard of the conversation Bob Gibbs had had with Eric's—now Josh's—lawyer.

  After listening attentively, Dave rubbed his chin and said, “Amanda, this situation is above my pay grade. Considering who's involved, I think you'd better talk to the chief. Come on back.”

  He led me down the hallway to the chief's vacant office and asked me to take a seat while he went to find the chief. I'd never been in the chief's office before, but it was obvious from the no-frills room that he didn't care about the trappings of his office. “Bare-bones” and “no-nonsense” probably best described his style. My mind wandered as I sat there, waiting for him. I was wondering what had happened with the high school girl who'd thought bringing carrot bars to the Roadrunner's Christmas party would somehow be funny when Dave popped in to tell me the chief would be with me in about five minutes.

  “Would you like some coffee while you wait, Amanda? I can grab you a cup.”

  “No, thanks, Dave. I'm fine. I was just thinking about that girl who blew up our party Sunday night. Is she a part of the group being investigated?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You know about that?”

  “I was there when the chief mentioned it to Rebecca at the reception Saturday afternoon.”

  “I'm surprised he said anything about it.”

  “He probably wanted to reassure Rebecca that none of the Pioneers had any involvement. She feels terrible that they sold those carrot bars, even though they had no way of knowing they were poisoned.”

  “It's still under investigation; that's about all I can say. The chief may be willing to tell you more, but we haven't made any arrests yet. Believe me, you would have heard about it if we had. The reporters from our local media call constantly for updates.”

  A few minutes later, as if to confirm what Dave had just told me, the chief came in, his cell phone to his ear.

  “You can expect a press release this afternoon,” the chief said, ending his conversation. He took a seat behind his desk and set his cell phone down on top of it. “What's this Dave's been telling me about Bob Gibbs?”

  I repeated my story, trying to remember the conversation I'd heard word for word. I couldn't quite do that, but I managed to convey the gist of it accurately.

  “Are you absolutely sure that's what you heard?”

  “I wouldn't be he
re if I weren't.”

  “I don't have to tell you that the Gibbses wield some power in Lonesome Valley. The mayor's my boss, as a matter of fact, and Bob knows plenty of other influential people, so the situation is a political nightmare, to say the least.”

  After hearing those words, I wondered whether the chief would investigate.

  “You understand that what you've given me would be considered hearsay in court. The district attorney would need some solid evidence before bringing charges.”

  “So you're not going to investigate?”

  “I didn't say that. I'm going to have a talk with Bob, and we'll see what he has to say for himself. You have no idea who the lawyer was that Bob was talking to?”

  “None. He never called him by name. He put the call on speaker, and I could tell that it was a man's voice, but Josh can give you that information.”

  “It sounds as though that young man needs to find himself a new lawyer.”

  Chapter 29

  I couldn't have agreed more. If Josh could find a lawyer willing to take the case and the attorney succeeded in either winning the judgment in court or negotiating a settlement, Josh should be able to settle Eric's estate and perhaps have an inheritance for himself. All in all, such a potential outcome would be much more favorable for him than the status quo.

  Still, I hesitated when I thought about calling him because I'd observed what a quick temper he'd displayed on the night of his uncle's demise. I decided to enlist Chip's help. After all, the two had been good friends for years, and, if Josh became upset at the news, Chip would probably have better luck calming him down than I would.

  I phoned Chip, explained that I had important, but possibly upsetting, news for Josh, and asked him if he'd be willing to be there when I spoke to his friend. “It's just that I've seen that he has a temper. I was hoping you might be able to talk him down if he gets upset.”

  “So it's bad news?” Chip asked.

  “I'm afraid it's the 'I-have-good news-and-I-have-bad-news' dilemma. I should probably leave it at that for now.”

  “OK, Amanda, you're in luck. I'm at the Pizza Place, and Dad's gone home for a few hours. Business is really slow this time of the day. I asked Josh to join me for a late lunch. He should be here in a few minutes, so why don't you come over right now?”

  “All right. I can do that.”

  “I have an extra-large supreme in the oven for Josh and me. What can I make for you?”

  Chip's offer reminded me that I hadn't had lunch yet, so I gave him my order. “A mini-mushroom pizza would hit the spot.”

  “One mini coming right up.”

  “Thanks, Chip. I'll be there in a few minutes.”

  “See you, soon, Beautiful.”

  Happy that Chip was acting more like his usual self, I drove to the Pizza Place and noticed that there were only a couple of cars in the parking lot.

  Taking my sunglasses off, I went inside and tried to adjust my eyes to the darkened interior.

  “Ah, the woman of the hour.” Grinning at me, Chip stood behind the counter, next to the cash register. He turned and called into the kitchen. “Hey, Don, answer the phone and cover the counter, please.”

  He led the way to a corner booth where we'd be well away from the entrance and the counter. “Let's sit here,” he said. “I'll have to leave if someone wants a delivery. Don and I are the only ones holding down the fort until Dad comes back later. It probably won't happen this time of day, though.”

  “I understand. You have to take care of business.”

  “Josh should be here any minute. How about cluing me in?”

  “Well, all right.”

  “Never mind. Here he comes now.”

  I looked out the window and saw the same red sports car that Josh had been driving when he and Kayla arrived at his uncle's house the night we'd found that Eric had been poisoned.

  Chip greeted his friend at the door and told him I needed to talk to him. From the look on Josh's face, I knew he doubted I could tell him anything of interest. I couldn't really blame him. After all, it was pure coincidence that I'd heard Bob Gibbs talking to Josh's attorney.

  Nevertheless, he greeted me politely and settled himself opposite me in the booth. Chip asked what we'd like to drink. Josh opted for a beer, while I asked for diet cola.

  Chip was back with our pizzas and drinks before the silence between Josh and me became too uncomfortable. I noticed that Chip was having cola, too, rather than beer, like Josh, probably because his father depended on him to make deliveries. Chip sometimes seemed careless or nonchalant, but I knew his dad could rely on him, although perhaps that hadn't always been the case.

  When Chip slipped into the booth on my side, I slid over and took a quick bite of pizza and a sip of my diet cola before I began to relate my story. “Josh, I wanted to talk to you today because I overheard something that concerns you.”

  “OK.”

  “It has to do with the lawsuit your uncle was planning on pursuing against the helicopter company that was involved in his wife's death.”

  “Poor Aunt Nat. It was such a terrible crash. From what I understand, nobody could possibly have survived it. I thought the consensus at the time was that the crash was weather-related and the pilot did nothing wrong. That's why I was kind of surprised Uncle Eric decided to sue.”

  “Actually, I don't know any of the details of the accident or the merits of the case, but this has to do with somebody trying to influence the filing.”

  “Go on.”

  “From what I overheard, Bob Gibbs plans to pay off your lawyer to drop the case.”

  Josh frowned. “Who's Bob Gibbs? I've never heard of him.”

  “He's the mayor's husband,” Chip interjected. “He runs those stables north of town, and he has some other local business interests.”

  “I don't get it,” Josh said. “Why would this Gibbs guy care about the lawsuit?”

  “Because he's one of the owners of the helicopter tour business, a silent partner, according to the mayor's assistant. And, by the way, after she revealed that, she admitted that she shouldn't have told me, so I assume it's meant to be a secret.”

  Josh stared at me. “Wow! You really get around. It's amazing.” Brian had once told me I was amazing, too, only there was a difference. Brian admired me, while Josh probably had me pegged as a middle-age meddler and not much else. “Phil Babcock already told me Eric didn't have much of a case, but he didn't say he was going to drop it altogether.”

  “I bet that's coming,” Chip said. “He probably doesn't want to make it sound too sudden. Could be he's trying to soften you up.”

  “Chip may be right,” I agreed. “The lawyer said 'I'm handling it.' Those were his exact words.”

  I could almost imagine steam rising as Josh took in the ramifications of the conversation I'd overheard.

  “We'll see about that,” he said angrily. “Just point me in this Gibbs guy's direction. I'll take care of my so-called lawyer later.”

  “Whoa! That's not going to help the situation,” Chip warned.

  “The police are investigating,” I chimed in.

  “The police?” Josh looked at me incredulously. “You really do get around!”

  “Let them handle it, Josh,” Chip suggested. “In the meantime, you can hire another lawyer.”

  Josh didn't respond right away. At least, he was thinking about his options. Finally, he nodded.

  “You may be right. I need to find a lawyer Gibbs can't influence. Maybe someone in Phoenix.”

  “That sounds like a good idea. There are plenty of personal injury lawyers there. Hold on; it looks like Don needs something. I'll be right back.”

  Chip jumped up and went to the counter to speak to Don, a gray-haired man wearing a white apron and cap.

  When Chip came back to the booth, he told us he had to make a delivery.

  “I'd better be going, too,” I said, as I slid out of the booth's faux leather bench seat.

  “Thanks
for telling me about this, Amanda,” Josh said. “I appreciate it.”

  “You're welcome. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I thought you should know what's going on.”

  Chip grabbed the pizza box Don had set on the front counter, and we walked out to the parking lot together. When I looked back, I could see Josh through the window with his cell phone to his ear. I guessed he wasn't wasting any time trying to locate a new lawyer, or perhaps he'd called Kayla to let her know what he'd learned about his lawyer.

  As I drove home, I reflected that it had seemed like a very long day, mainly because the stress was getting to me. Normally, after selling a painting, such as the one Melinda had purchased this morning, I would have felt thrilled, but, thanks to her husband's bribery scheme, I felt rather depressed and anxious. I was relying on my pets to lighten my mood when I got home, and they didn't disappoint me.

  Laddie and Mona Lisa were both waiting for me at the kitchen door when I opened it. Mona Lisa dropped her toy mouse at my feet and meowed loudly until I picked her up while Laddie danced joyfully around me, stopping for a pat and then continuing to bounce around me.

  After a few minutes in my arms, my calico kitty had had enough. She jumped down and scampered into the living room, but, instead of springing to the top of her kitty tree, she settled herself on the wide arm of my chair.

  I stooped to give Laddie a hug, and he trailed me around my tiny house until I took him outside for a game of fetch. He ran and leaped, expertly catching his ball every time I threw it. I played with him for quite a while before dusk settled on us and we went inside. Mona Lisa hadn't moved from the arm of my chair. I thought she was sleeping when I sat down beside her, but she proved me wrong by quickly moving into my lap. She shot a look of disdain at Laddie, who was sitting next to the chair, resting his chin on the other arm. He whined softly until I began to stroke his head.

  I realized the stress of the day was fading as I relaxed with my pets. I put the foot rest up, and, before I knew it, I'd fallen asleep. I didn't awaken until Laddie persistently nudged me with his nose. My golden boy was telling me it was time for dinner. I glanced at the clock on the side table next to the sofa and saw that he'd been a very patient dog, indeed. It was an hour past dinnertime.