Reunions Can Be Murder: The Seventh Charlie Parker Mystery

by Connie Shelton

  My mouth opened.

  “I know you been snooping around and digging at past history. I know there’s a few, like that ass Rory Daniels, who want to believe it. But it ain’t true. Pop didn’t –” her face crumpled and she took a deep breath—“he didn’t take their money.”

  She sniffed, a moist sounding deep one. “Don’t you think I’d of known it? All these years, fightin’ to make a few bucks off this ranch, worryin’ about the price of beef, the weather, the bills.” She paced the length of the porch twice. “If that old fart had a stash of money around somewheres, I sure never saw it. Him and Willie going off all the time prospecting. Shit-fire! If he ever found anything, it wasn’t much. And he sure didn’t bring it home to help out around here.

  “These last few years, with Pop gettin’ too old to be much help at the ranch, that’s when we really coulda used the money.” She leaned against the railing with both hands, facing out into the dusty yard. “There wasn’t any money, Charlie. Believe it.”

  “I do, Sophie,” I said quietly. I patted her on the shoulder and walked down the steps to my car. She was still standing at the railing when I drove away.

  Chapter 11

  All the way home I thought about Sophie. The newspaper accounts hadn’t said anything about Bud Tucker being accused of keeping any of the missing money. Everything I’d read seemed to clear the bank’s directors and place the blame squarely on Phillip Stanton, the easterner who’d masterminded the whole development scheme. Sophie was such a young child at the time, odds were she didn’t know first-hand what her father’s role was. But from the rancor I’d just witnessed, she’d fallen heir to a lot of the town’s bitterness. Couple that with constant financial worries and the fact that her father was aging—could she have decided he was better off dead?

  Then there was Rory Daniels. He, too, was a young child when the whole scandal broke. But he’d watched both his parents die far too young and no doubt he’d had his own share of financial pressures over the years. His anger was still very near the surface. Could he have happened along while Bud and Willie were at the mines, lost his temper with Bud, and shot him? Maybe the two old men had found gold—that could be a motive for Rory. Willie might have gotten away and was now hiding, in fear for his life—or not. Maybe the search party would still find him. And if Willie was also dead, how did his truck get to Las Cruces and his bank card get used as far away as Phoenix? Rory hadn’t skipped out, but had he left for awhile and come back? I’d have to ask a few more questions.

  My head was spinning by the time I reached the outskirts of Albuquerque, but I had to admit the drive had gone quickly. I longed to go home and hug my dog, but the hospital was on the way and I should stop in and see Dorothy.

  Her room was on the third floor at the end of a long hall that smelled of antiseptic and old food trays. I barged in without knocking and found Dorothy and her brother Felix in a tense-looking conversation. Felix started when he realized they had company. He touched Dorothy’s arm and backed away from the bed.

  Dorothy looked smaller and less intimidating with her leg elevated in a thick cast and a white square of gauze taped to her forehead. Her gray curls had been brushed down low in front to partially hide the bandage, but she’d lost a lot of her fearsomeness. Felix, on the other hand, was taller and more muscular than I’d remembered. Dressed in khaki slacks and a navy short-sleeved polo shirt, he was in remarkably good shape for a man in his sixties. His impossibly black hair and thin mustache didn’t show a thread of gray against his tan face

  “Hi, Dorothy, how are you doing?” I said, standing back from the bed.

  “I’m sick of this place,” she whined in her nasal tone. “The food is simply awful and I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep.”

  “Well, they’re letting you out tomorrow,” Felix told her, patting her arm gently.

  “Can you take care of yourself at home?” I asked.

  “I’ll be going to Melanie and Bob’s house. Probably have to stay there until I get this cast off. Can’t see how I’d do much for myself on crutches. I just hope they have a decent mattress in their guestroom.”

  Lucky Melanie.

  I filled them in briefly on the search and rescue operation to find Willie, although there really wasn’t much to report.

  “Sorry to hear that Bud Tucker got killed,” Felix offered. “Dad was sure fond of him.”

  “Melanie said you were trying to pull over to pick up someone who looked like your father,” I said to Dorothy. “Did you have any reason to believe he was back in Albuquerque?”

  “Well, I . . .” She fumbled for a reasonable explanation.

  “I mean, had he contacted you? I need to know if any family members hear from him,” I said.

  “No, he hadn’t contacted me. I just . . . well . . . I guess I just hoped.” She dabbed at one eye with the corner of her sheet, although I didn’t see any moisture there.

  “Melanie said the rest of the family were going home today,” I said.

  “The younger ones have already left,” Felix said. “Of course, I just live in Socorro, so that’s an easy drive. I’ll stay on while Dorothy needs me.”

  “Felix is a professor at the college.”

  “Geology 101,” he added with a chuckle.

  “Bea’s children all left earlier today,” Dorothy said. “I think she was going to stay over one more night at my house and get a flight out tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Well, I’m sorry the reunion didn’t quite end up as planned,” I said. “At least everyone got to see each other for awhile.”

  “Everyone except Dad,” Dorothy added bitterly.

  “Well, I just wanted to see how you were doing,” I said, shifting from one foot to the other. “And to be sure you still want me on the case to locate your father.”

  Felix shot a glance over to Dorothy but she didn’t catch it.

  “Certainly. Now, more than ever, we need to know what’s happened to him,” Dorothy said. “I’m sure if he’s up there by those mines, that sheriff will let us know what they find.”

  “I’ll be in touch with the sheriff too,” I assured her.

  Felix gave me a tight grin.

  Out in the hall, I paused outside Dorothy’s door, pretending to fumble in my purse for my keys.

  “I told you to be patient!” Felix’s voice sounded like sandpaper.

  “I just—” she hissed.

  “Shh!”

  The squeak of his shoes told me he was crossing the room. I did a couple of giant steps before slowing to a leisurely saunter toward the elevators. I could swear I felt his eyes boring into my back. What were those two up to?

  Thirty minutes later, across town, I’d dropped my duffle inside my front door and was walking through the break in the hedge between my house and my neighbor’s, Elsa Higgins. Rusty bounded out to greet me the second she opened her back door.

  “Hi, Gram, how did he do?” I asked.

  My eighty-seven year old surrogate grandmother beamed. “Good as gold,” she said. “You know, it’s a nice feeling of security to have a big dog like him around.”

  Rusty leaned against my legs, pushing hard, while I scratched his ears and roughed up his fur.

  “Want to stay for dinner?” Elsa asked. “I made stew.”

  “Sure. Let me go check my messages and throw a few dirty clothes in the washer.”

  “I’ll bake up some cornbread and have it all ready about six,” she said.

  I trudged back through the hedge with the dog at my heels. The answering machine had only one message, from Melanie. Just a quick “call me” with no further explanation. I dialed her number and got her machine, so I told her to try me again after eight o’clock.

  Rusty watched avidly as I unpacked my duffle bag. He sniffed each item I pulled out, waiting in anticipation for some stray dog biscuit to slip out. When none came, he led me back to the kitchen.

  “Been a little spoiled, have you?” I teased. No doubt Elsa had given him treat
s every time he begged.

  I started a load of laundry and checked my e-mail—all junk—then left a message for Drake that I’d made it home okay and would be in later. Called the office, where the only news was that Ron’s fishing trip was going great and he’d decided to stay two more days.

  Although I knew Elsa would welcome me anytime before six, the past few days were beginning to catch up with me and I felt the need to unwind. I stretched out on the living room sofa and forced my mind to go blank. I awoke an hour later to insistent knocking on my back door.

  “Everything okay?” Elsa asked. She held her light jacket together in front against the evening chill. “It’s six-thirty and I thought you might have run into trouble.”

  “Oh, god, I’m sorry,” I said. “I really meant to only close my eyes for five minutes.”

  “You work too hard. Well, everything’s ready so just come on over any time.”

  I switched on a couple of lamps and checked to be sure the front door was locked before grabbing a denim jacket and heading out the back door.

  Elsa’s kitchen smelled wonderful and I was glad I’d agreed to come. She ladled out bowls of hearty beef stew and I ran a knife through the pan of cornbread, making neat squares of it. We ate in silence for a few minutes.

  “How is your case going?” she asked, wiping crumbs off her mouth with a napkin.

  “I don’t know,” I moaned. “I feel stuck. There’s a contingent of search and rescue people out there now, combing the hills for Willie’s body, thinking that whoever killed his friend might have also killed him.

  “For some reason, I think there’s more to it than a simple robbery gone wrong. But I’ve discovered that people in White Oaks have old grudges against Bud Tucker, so he may have been the real victim. His own daughter is very protective of him. Then there’s Willie’s family—what a bunch! Dorothy’s sister, Bea, told me that Dorothy got her father to change the beneficiary on his insurance policy so Dorothy is the only inheritor. But I overhead Dorothy and Felix, their brother, whispering about something that made them both pretty tense.”

  I drained my glass of iced tea. “I just don’t know. The whole thing is getting more complicated by the day.”

  Elsa carried our bowls to the sink. “Well, I have to say—from more than a few years’ experience—that families and the way they treat each other can get pretty mind-boggling.”

  “No kidding,” I laughed. “And this group just got together for a reunion. I can’t imagine why they’d want to. None of them seem to like each other.”

  I glanced at the wall clock above the stove. Eight-fifteen. “I better get going soon,” I said. I’m expecting some calls. I squirted dish liquid into the sink and aimed the hot water to form a puff of suds.

  “I can do those later,” she protested.

  “I know, but I don’t mind helping. These few things won’t take long.” I dunked the two bowls, two plates, and few pieces of silver into the hot water.

  “Guess one of your calls will be from Drake.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners. Ever since Elsa had met Drake, she’d been infatuated. If she’d been forty years younger I think I’d have had a serious rival.

  “Yeah, he said they’ve almost got the fire under control. They’ll probably release him to come back home after that. If something else around the state doesn’t start burning, I may actually get some time with him.”

  With dishes stacked in the drainer and hands dried on a nearby towel, I asked Elsa if there was anything she needed before I headed home. A couple of minutes later Rusty and I started back to our place. The phone was ringing when I walked in.

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?” Melanie asked.

  “No, this is fine,” I assured her. “What’s up?”

  “Just thought I’d check to see how things are going. I talked to Mother awhile ago and she said you’d stopped in at the hospital.”

  I told her I had, leaving out the part about Felix and Dorothy’s strange whisperings. I filled her in on the little bit of White Oaks news that pertained to Willie. Figured Bud Tucker’s problems with the townsfolk were not part of the McBride family’s business.

  “Your mother told me she’s coming to stay at your house after she’s released?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Her voice sounded weary already. “Bob isn’t exactly thrilled, but I don’t see much other choice. There isn’t money to cover home care for her at her house, so I guess this is it. We’ll see how long it takes for me to start pulling my hair out.”

  I could certainly sympathize, but didn’t say so. First thing that’ll pull bickering families together is for an outsider to butt in.

  “So, what’s next?” she asked.

  “Your mother said your aunt Beatrice wasn’t leaving until tomorrow afternoon. I’d like to touch base with her one more time if I could.”

  “Sure, I don’t see why not. She’s staying at Mother’s. You could call first, just to be sure she’ll be there.”

  I wasn’t sure what information I’d get from Bea, I thought as I hung up the phone, but it was worth a try. I was short on viable evidence and I figured just about any of the players might be able to throw a crumb my way.

  When I called Bea to suggest a meeting, I found her positively excited.

  “I was hoping I’d get a chance to talk to you,” she said. “Just wasn’t sure how to find you. Anyway, I’ve got something exciting to share.” We decided to meet for breakfast.

  Drake called while I was transferring the clean laundry into the dryer. We didn’t talk long. He said the fire was contained and he’d call and let me know as soon as he was released. I was in bed by nine, ready to wilt after the long day.

  I spent a restless night, despite the fact that I’d felt bone tired when I first hit the bed. Apparently I’d gotten my deep sleep during the hour-long nap before dinner. Wakefulness stirred me several times during the night and I finally gave up at six o’clock, opting to get up and start the day early rather than toss around uselessly. I let Rusty out, and took a quick, hot shower to rinse the cobwebs from my brain.

  Beatrice and I had agreed to meet for breakfast at a Denny’s at nine o’clock. I was a few minutes early so I ordered coffee and started to browse the novel-length menu.

  I spotted Bea standing near the entrance scanning the room, so I waved her over. More than before, I noticed how opposite she was from her sister. Slightly over five feet, looking slim in jeans and a cotton sweater, she lacked both Dorothy’s imposing size and pushy manner.

  “Hi, Charlie,” she greeted. “I’m so glad you caught me before we had to leave.”

  We browsed the menu and placed our orders.

  “Well, I’ve certainly found some interesting evidence since we talked the last time,” she said, reaching into her oversized purse and pulling out a sheaf of papers. “Remember, I told you I thought Dorothy’d gotten Dad to change his will? Ralph shushed me, but I knew I was right.”

  She pushed a document across the table at me.

  “This is a copy,” she said. “You’ll notice it isn’t signed yet. And this—” she produced a similar sheaf, “—is the old one.”

  The waitress brought our food and I held the papers out of her way.

  I scanned the pages quickly. “Wills? Two of them?”

  “Exactly. The old one was drawn up years ago. Dad left equal shares of his property to each of us children. Now the new one—” She fluttered her hand toward the papers in my right hand. “—that was drawn up in January. By Dorothy’s lawyer, not the one Dad always used. The wording is tricky, but basically it gives her the right to handle his estate, deducting any fees she may reasonably incur—” She paused for emphasis. “Meaning that, as I see it, she could completely drain the estate before any of the rest of us see a dime.”

  “Will it be a large estate?” I asked, picturing Willie’s ramshackle house in the valley. “I mean, is it really worth her time to go to all this trouble?”

  “On the face of it, probably not,”
she admitted. “But looks may be deceptive. I understand that the part of town where he lives is becoming pretty hot property. His house may not be much, but the land is surely worth something.”

  She was right about that. Many of Albuquerque’s newly successful business people were opting for the semi-rural atmosphere of the north valley and had driven land values sky high. A thought struck me.

  “Could Felix somehow be involved in this?” I asked, holding up the papers.

  Her brows pulled together as she cut a wedge from her omelet and chewed on it. “I don’t know. He and Dorothy are cut from the same greedy cloth, I can tell you that.”

  I spread strawberry jam on a toast triangle while she pondered the question further.

  “You know, as kids it was always Dorothy and Felix bossing Ella and me around. We just kind of took it, I guess. Now, Dorothy’s kids didn’t turn out that way. Melanie and Roger are both good kids who’ve gotten on with their own lives since they got out from under her thumb. Makes Dorothy mad, I’ll tell you, not to run those kids lives anymore.”

  “But Felix’s name isn’t on the new will? More than yours, for instance?”

  “Not really. But maybe I should reread it to be sure. It would be just like him to wiggle his way in there somehow.”

  “Or like Dorothy to try to cut him out?” I thought of the tension in the room at the hospital.

  “That too,” she agreed. “Anyway, I’ve made copies of both wills. I’m going to stop at the bank and sign a notarized statement that the new one was unsigned as of this date. That way, whatever happens, if Dad turns up, uh, well, not alive, at least she can’t try to push this thing through as the valid will.”

  “Good idea,” I agreed. “You know, this might be another reason Willie decided to disappear when he did. Maybe she was pressuring him to sign and he didn’t want to.” I didn’t dwell on the fact that Willie might not be missing of his own accord. At least it seemed to take away any motive Dorothy or Felix might have had for wanting him dead yet. They needed that signature first. And it certainly provided a better explanation for Dorothy’s pushiness about finding her father quickly. I’d never fully bought the family reunion story.