“Why were you killed?” she whispered as her eyes walked around the neat and orderly room. She went to the door and searched for any signs of a forced entry. She found none. “Did you know your killer?” she asked. Silence answered. “Well…this ends the talent show and opens a case of…murder.”
Twenty minutes later, Sheriff Mables arrived. He rushed into the room, found Monroe Baker lying dead on the floor, and looked at Mary. “What’s going on, Mary?” he asked. “You invited this guy to town and now he’s dead.”
Mary folded her arms. “I’m not sure why he was killed,” Mary replied. She stepped out into the hallway, spotted Milton standing at the stairs, and sighed. “I saw a man wearing a black suit standing across the street when I arrived. Mr. Wyman said the man I saw stated he was Monroe Baker’s agent.”
“A man wearing a black suit?” Sheriff Mables asked. He turned away from Mary and looked back at the room. “Mary, if the man you saw killed Mr. Baker, he could be miles from here by now…assuming he’s the killer, and I’m not sure he is.”
“What do you mean?” Mary asked.
“There’s a lot of jealous husbands in town right now,” Sheriff Mables explained. “Well, maybe not a lot, but a couple. Billy Carol and Ned Brown are furious that Monroe Baker is in town.” Sheriff Mables shook his head. “Heather Norton told me that Billy and Ned didn’t like Monroe Baker when they were in school together. Heather said Monroe was always chasing after their girls. It seems that Monroe chased after a lot of girls.”
“He was a…flirt,” Mary admitted. “He thought no girl in town could resist his charm. A few girls could…and did.”
Sheriff Mables shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe,” he said, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I overheard Ned tell Billy that he would kill Monroe Baker if he came within ten feet of his wife. He came to the train station just to tell Monroe Baker that, too. Monroe rushed off before Ned could have words with him.”
Mary looked down the hallway at Milton and then back at Sheriff Mables. “Sheriff, Mr. Brown isn’t a killer. He’s a schoolteacher. He teaches high school science.”
“I know that, Mary,” Sheriff Mables said. “I know Ned Brown wouldn’t hurt a bird but that doesn’t change the fact that I heard him say he would kill Monroe Baker.”
“Milton,” Mary called down the hallway.
“Yes?”
“Has Ned Brown been here today?” Mary asked.
“Why, yes, he has,” Milton called back. “Ned came by about an hour ago and demanded I let him speak with Mr. Baker. I wouldn’t let him, of course.” Milton eased down the hallway toward Mary. “Ned left red in the face.”
Sheriff Mables tapped the gun resting on his hip. “Was anyone with Ned?” he asked Milton.
“Billy Carol,” Milton explained. “Billy was just as angry at Mr. Baker as Ned was. I don’t know why. So I sent them away. I run a peaceful hotel, Sheriff Mables…well, at least, I did.”
Mary closed her eyes. What a mess, she thought. Monroe Baker was dead. Ned Brown was now a suspect. The real killer was loose…and she was caught in the middle. “Sheriff, the man wearing the black suit killed Monroe Baker,” Mary said. “We both know Ned Brown isn’t the killer.”
Sheriff Mables continued to tap his gun. “Mary,” he said in a stern tone, “the man wearing the black suit is probably miles away from Pineville. If he’s the killer, he probably jumped in his car after he did the deed and took off. Any chance of locating him…well, don’t get your hopes up.”
Mary looked down at her purse and then walked back downstairs into the lobby. Milton followed her. “Does this mean the talent show is cancelled?” Milton asked.
“I’m afraid so,” Mary said as she looked toward the front door. Outside, somewhere, a killer was lurking. “At least until I find the real killer.”
Chapter 3
Mary walked into her office, tossed her purse down on the desk, and sat down with a heavy sigh. She looked out the office window and listened to a strong wind howl outside. A powerful storm was moving toward Pineville. The bright moon that had arrived and lit up the night sky was now covered by dark, angry, black clouds. Folks in Pineville were preparing for high winds, heavy rain, and maybe even a tornado. Pineville was no stranger to storms. When Mary was a little girl, a tornado had ripped through the countryside and nearly veered into town. Folks knew when to hunker down.
“I’ll weather the storm in the office,” Mary told herself as the winds howled outside and scratched at the office window. “Sheriff Mables will be along shortly.”
Mary placed her hands together and lowered her eyes down to the desk. A to-go plate from the diner was sitting in front of the typewriter with a note attached. “I knew you would be hungry. With love, Betty.” A glass of tea sat next to the to-go plate.
“Oh, Betty.” Mary nearly began to cry. “You’re a woman who has my heart,” she said and studied a plate holding delicious chicken and dumplings, green beans, okra, and two biscuits. Mary smiled again, unrolled a napkin holding a fork and spoon, and began to eat. As she took her first bite, a shadowy figure appeared in the doorway of the office. Mary gasped and dropped her fork.
“It’s only me,” Betty said in a quick voice. She hurried into the office wearing a yellow raincoat and carrying a yellow umbrella. “I was worried.”
“Oh, honey,” Mary said in a loving voice. She stood up, walked over to Betty, and hugged her. “I was caught up at the hotel.”
Betty hugged Mary back. “I called the office and when you didn’t pick up, I decided to take a walk down here.”
“In this weather?” Mary worried. “Betty, honey, this storm is going to be very bad. You should have stayed home.”
“I know,” Betty said. She looked at the office window with worried eyes. “I can’t rest until I know you’re home.” Betty focused on Mary. “Can you drive me home and then go home yourself? Please,” she begged.
“I wish I could,” Mary said and returned back to her food, “but Sheriff Mables will be here any minute.” Mary took a bite of okra. “Thank you for supper, honey. I’m starving, and this food is hitting the spot.”
Betty eased forward to her normal sitting chair and sat down. “You’re welcome,” she said and then asked: “Why is Sheriff Mables coming here? Shouldn’t he be home at this hour?”
Mary picked up a biscuit. “Honey,” she said, “you better brace yourself.”
Betty’s eyes widened. “Oh no,” she moaned. “What…what happened, Mary?”
Mary looked at her biscuit and then put it back down. She slowly folded her hands and looked at Betty with concerned eyes. The last thing in the world she needed was for her best friend to faint. “Honey…Monroe Baker has been…what I mean to say is…someone…killed him. Now, don’t faint on me, please!”
Betty didn’t faint. She was too exhausted to faint. Instead, she sat stunned. “Killed…Monroe Baker…goodness…” she whispered.
Relief poured over Mary. Betty wasn’t going to faint. Thank goodness. “Stabbed,” she confirmed.
“Stabbed…goodness,” Betty whispered.
“Stabbed,” Mary echoed Betty’s voice. “And the killer got away.”
“Killer…got away.”
Mary unlocked her hands, took a bite of green beans, and looked at the office door. “Betty, honey, Sheriff Mables has sworn me to secrecy. No one is to know Monroe Baker is dead. The only other person who knows is Milton Wyman. Milton has promised to keep a tight lip. I believe he will. He’s afraid if he goes around blabbing the killer might try and silence him.”
“Silence poor Milton.”
“Honey, please,” Mary begged.
“Huh? Oh…sorry.” Betty shook her head out of the shock holding her mind hostage. “Mary…Monroe Baker is dead. This news will rattle everyone…and what about our talent show? So much work has gone into preparing for it. The theater looks so lovely inside and…oh my…so many people are signed up to perform.” Betty stared at Mary in absolute horror. �
�And…what about…the killer? The killer could be anyone…and even worse…the killer could still be around someplace,” Betty whispered as if she feared the killer was listening to her every word.
“I know, I know,” Mary said, just as worried. She worked on the chicken and dumplings. There was no sense in worrying on a hungry belly. “Betty, honey, we’re in a bad mess.”
Outside, a bolt of lightning flashed in the office window and vanished. Seconds later, a powerful eruption of thunder shook the office. Betty screamed. “Mary!”
“It’s okay,” Mary reassured her. She jumped to her feet, ran to Betty, and wrapped her arms around the frightened woman. “It’s okay…it’s only thunder. Thunder can’t harm you,” she soothed Betty.
Betty grabbed Mary with trembling hands and held on tight. “Oh…how I wish this storm would go away.”
“Me, too,” Sheriff Mables said, appearing in the office doorway. “A bolt of lightning just struck a tree across the street. A limb is now lying in the middle of the road.”
Mary raised her eyes and spotted Sheriff Mables shaking rain off a gray raincoat. “We didn’t hear you come in.”
“How could you over that thunder?” Sheriff Mables asked as a heavy gust of wind rocked the office. “I wouldn’t be surprised if these storms drop a tornado on town.”
“Oh, my!” Betty cried. “Mary, a tornado!”
“Now, now,” Mary tried to calm Betty.
Sheriff Mables walked over to the office window and looked outside. The tree limb spread across the front street was slowly being dragged back and forth by the wind. “Good thing the street was clear of people and cars,” he said, watching the storm growing stronger and stronger. “Well, almost. Mary, that fallen tree limb landed awful close to your car.”
“My car will live,” Mary told Sheriff Mables. “I’m more worried about the man who killed Monroe Baker.”
Sheriff Mables turned away from the window. “I’m not going to question Ned Brown or Billy Carol right now,” he announced. “I agree that those two guys are innocent of murder. But,” he added, “that only leaves us in a very deep hole with no room to crawl out, Mary. The man you saw standing outside the hotel is most likely in another state by now.”
Mary kept her arms around Betty. “Maybe,” she agreed. “Then again, maybe not.”
“Why do you say that?” Sheriff Mables asked.
“The suitcase.”
“The suitcase?” Sheriff Mables asked.
“The killer went through Monroe Baker’s suitcase,” Mary explained. “I saw the clothes packed in the suitcase disturbed. It appeared that the killer rifled through the suitcase searching for something.” Mary rubbed Betty’s shoulders. “Sheriff, earlier today at the train station I noticed that Monroe Baker appeared nervous, even scared. While I was driving him to the hotel he requested I find him a car to use. He stated his need for a car was because he wanted to drive down to Chattanooga and see his parents. He even claimed his mother was very ill.”
“But Monroe Baker’s parents live in the northeast part of the state,” Sheriff Mables pointed out.
Mary nodded. “Exactly,” she said. She let go of Betty and walked back to her desk. “Monroe Baker was getting ready to make a run for it. That’s what I think.”
“A run for it?” Betty asked.
Mary nodded her head. “Monroe was preparing to run from the killer. You see, I think the killer followed Monroe to Pineville all the way from California. I think Monroe was scared for his life and was using his time here to prepare an escape plan. I could be wrong.”
“You could be right,” Sheriff Mables said. “The door leading into Monroe Baker’s room showed no signs of forced entry. If Monroe was worried for his life, he surely would have kept his room door locked. Whoever killed him either had a room key or was let into the room without a fight. Milton showed me the spare key to Monroe’s room, which leaves option number two.”
“Milton did say the man wearing the black suit claimed he was Monroe Baker’s agent,” Mary told Sheriff Mables. She sat down and took a bite of okra. “But if it wasn’t his agent, why would Monroe let the man into his room?”
Sheriff Mables grew silent and listened to the storm. Then an idea walked into his mind. “Blackmail,” he announced and snapped his fingers. “That has to be it! The killer was blackmailing Monroe Baker. Monroe Baker was paying him off but never expected the guy to kill him. That’s why he let him in.”
“Blackmail?” Betty asked. “Oh goodness, this is all so horrible and scary.”
Mary rubbed her lips. “Blackmail?” she whispered. “Why of course, that has to be it.”
Sheriff Mables tapped his gun with his right hand. “Mary, you could be right about the killer still lurking about. It’s possible the killer knew Monroe was preparing to make a run for it and killed him.”
“And it’s possible whatever the killer was after, Monroe hid someplace,” Mary added. Dread filled her stomach. “Which means the killer might go after anyone Monroe made contact with.”
“Oh, my!” Betty gasped. “Mary, you drove Monroe Baker into town from the train station. You’ve been in constant contact with him ever since he agreed to headline our talent show.”
“I know, I know,” Mary told Betty. She grabbed the glass of sweet tea and drank some down. “The man wearing the black suit saw me standing outside the hotel earlier, too.”
“Oh, my!” Betty gasped again. “Sheriff, do something!”
“Calm down, Betty,” Sheriff Mables said. “Mary is safe. The killer isn’t anywhere around right now.”
“Right now,” Betty pointed out, “but what about later?”
Sheriff Mables quit tapping his gun, reached into his pants pocket, and pulled out a half-smoked cigar. He popped the cigar into his mouth and began pacing around the office. It was a stormy night, a dead body was in town, and a killer was on the loose. The story had all the ingredients of a classic detective story, complete with Sheriff Mables as the daring detective assigned to solve the case. “If the killer is still in town he surely isn’t staying at the hotel, which means he has to be holed up someplace.”
Mary hadn’t considered that fact. “Yes, the man I saw standing across the street from the hotel would have to be lodging someplace in town…or out in the county, now wouldn’t he?”
“Mary, Pineville sits in a very large county. The town itself isn’t impressive in size, but the county is,” Sheriff Mables said. “If the killer is hiding out in the county—or even in town—it’ll be like looking for a needle in a haystack, especially in this storm.”
Mary felt desperation begin to tangle itself into a knot inside of her mind. “We’re helpless until this storm passes.”
“We’re helpless until the killer decides to show himself again…assuming he does,” Sheriff Mables emphasized. He pulled out a pack of matches and lit his cigar. “Don’t tell the wife, huh? She fusses when I smoke my cigars.”
Mary slowly took a bite of a biscuit and focused on the storm outside. The winds were growing stronger and stronger. The rain was now falling in heavy, blinding sheets. Lightning was flickering across the night sky in constant streaks. Thunder was growling and erupting in a sudden burst. “We’re trapped,” she whispered, feeling the newspaper office turn into a creepy set located inside a scary horror movie. “We’re trapped until this storm passes.”
Sheriff Mables puffed on his cigar. “Betty, I better drive you home and then drive Mary home before this storm gets any worse.”
Betty stood up. “Yes, that’s a good idea. Only,” she said, “Mary, please stay at my house tonight. I don’t want you being alone.”
“That’s a good idea,” Sheriff Mables agreed. “Besides, Betty’s house is much closer.”
Mary sat still. “Betty, honey, I think I’m going to ride out the storm in my office tonight.”
“Why?” Betty asked.
“Betty, no offense, honey, your mother is a very nervous woman and follows me around everywher
e I go worrying that I might break something. Besides, I need time to think. Also,” Mary added, “if the killer is somehow watching us right now, I don’t want to lead him to your house.”
Sheriff Mables worked on his cigar. “Mary, I’m not liking the idea of you staying in this office all night.”
“I don’t want to go home,” Mary said. “If the killer is watching us, I don’t want him knowing where I live…or where Betty lives.” Mary took another drink of her tea. “Besides, once I lock my office door there’s no way in or out, and that’s the way I want it.”
“Looks like I’m spending the night in this office, too.” Sheriff Mables sighed. “There’s no way I’m leaving you alone, Mary Holland. If something happened to you, John would have my hide.”
“Sheriff—”
Sheriff Mables threw up his right hand. “I’m staying or you’re going home with me since you don’t want to go to Betty’s house or your own house.”
“The office,” Mary sighed. “Your house reminds me of Vince Green.”
“The office it is.” Sheriff Mables nodded. “I’m going to call the wife. I’ll use a phone out in the front room. Betty, meet me in five minutes and I’ll drive you home.”
“I’m…staying, too,” Betty said in a nervous voice. “I’m not leaving Mary.”
“Oh, honey, please go—”
“I’m staying,” Betty insisted. “Monroe Baker is dead…and you saw the man who killed him.”
“I…” Mary tried to speak but stopped. How could she send her best friend away? “Okay, honey, you better stay with me.”
“I better call Mother,” Betty said. “Sheriff, I’ll walk out into the front room.”
Mary watched Betty and Sheriff Mables leave her office. “Sweet Betty,” she whispered.
Outside in the storm, the man wearing the black suit appeared across the street and studied the newspaper office with careful eyes. Ignoring the wind and rain, the man slowly stepped onto the street, walked around the fallen tree limb, and made his way to the front door of the building. When he reached the front door, he simply began knocking until Sheriff Mables yanked the door open. When Sheriff Mables saw a man wearing a black raincoat he stepped back, pulled out his gun, and ordered the man to put his hands up in the air. Mary heard the yelling and dashed out of her office. When she saw the man wearing the black raincoat with his hands in the air, she nearly fainted. Betty fainted for her.
Clueless Chase Page 4