by TM Simmons
Chapter 14
Jack set up shop at the tea table in the Garden Room. For nearly an hour, and two more cups of coffee, his officers periodically reported to him as they canvassed Esprit d’Chene grounds for the second time that day. Just like before, they could find no evidence of a prowler or anything else suspicious. Jack assured Katy they would go over the same area in daylight, but I was skeptical they’d have any better luck then.
And with Jack and his officers so close, Katy and I couldn’t discuss anything more important than whether we thought it might rain the next day. In the back of my mind, however, I listened to every word the officers told Jack. Nothing gave any clues as to who the poisoner might be, and Jack grew more and more uneasy. At one point I wondered whether maybe there were actually some similarities between Jack’s investigative mind and my creative one after all. We both niggled a problem to death when the solution eluded us.
The logical person to have administered the poison was Sue Ann, of course. Still, with everyone in and out of Esprit d’Chene today, it could have been anyone. I recalled Sue Ann’s face when I raced into the bedroom shouting. She’d stared at me as though I’d materialized out of thin air, even though I’d been shouting at the top of my lungs all the way up the stairwell. She hadn’t questioned me after I slapped the spoon away from Katy and slung the food tray to the floor. Wouldn’t somebody be a little bit confused at first when a person showed up screaming like that and about the food she’d prepared herself? She was either a damned good actress or had instinctively run to her husband, not questioning me. To protect herself from exposure?
I hated being suspicious of each and every person...living or deceased. But I could have ended up writhing on the floor and puking my guts out, too, as well as Miss Molly. She was so small, despite her chubbiness, that she might not have survived even a tiny lick of the pudding. Curiosity killed the cat. I spilled coffee as I slammed the cup down and leaped from my chair.
“What’s wrong?” Katy asked, a frightened look on her face.
“I want Miss Molly out here with us." I hurried into the laundry room, adjacent to the pantry. Trucker sat guard at the door, and I realized I hadn’t been paying any attention to where either one of my pets were for the last hour. Damn it, if I had to, I’d put them on leashes!
The laundry room was dark, and I clicked the light switch. The bulb flashed and burned out. “Katy,” I called. “Do you have another light bulb? Or a flashlight?”
Jack appeared at the door beside me and handed me his flashlight, the beam already shining. “What’s wrong?”
“Katy left Miss Molly in here, and I don’t see her." I panned the flashlight beam around the room. No cat in the laundry basket. No cat on the dryer. Shelves full of cleaning supplies, securely capped, so even if Miss Molly did prowl the shelves and knock one off, she wouldn’t end up tasting a pool of toxicity. On one end of the room set an ironing board and iron. Did people actually iron these days? More shelves containing neatly stacked bed linens and blankets securely sealed in plastic, zippered bags. Where was my cat? It would take forever to search.
“Trucker,” I called, but Jack pushed on by me and pulled the half-shut dryer door open. He reached in and lifted Miss Molly out, and she yawned and cuddled against his chest.
“Probably gonna have to re-wash the towels in the dryer,” Jack said. “Cat hairs.”
I reached for my cat, and she settled in my arms. “I should have realized,” I murmured. “She always lays on the laundry at home.”
As I carried her back to the table, I considered putting at least Miss Molly on her harness and leash. But that was in the Peach Room, and I didn’t really want to ask for an escort. Instead, I settled her on my lap and scratched her under the chin to keep her happy. She loves that. Soon her purrs trailed off and she went back to sleep. Katy had already cleaned up the spilled coffee and refilled my cup. My hand shook slightly, sort of like Granny’s palsy, as I picked the cup up.
Finally Jack set two of his officers to searching the manor house and gathering up the food — both prepared and frozen — then ushered Katy and me out to his unmarked Longview Police cruiser. Trucker trotted along beside me, and Katy carried Miss Molly. No way would I leave my pets behind, with a poisoner loose and a newly-dead ghost roaming around. I made a mental note, also, to see if the all-night station had any dog and cat food. My pets weren’t going to eat anything that came into the manor house with me that morning either!
“Jack,” I said as soon as we settled in the car, Katy in front with Miss Molly and me in back with Trucker. “Aunt Twila’s arriving in Dallas tomorrow at four p.m. And I don’t want any guff out of you when I tell you I’m driving in to pick her up.”
Jack glanced in the rearview mirror as he drove down the driveway. I couldn’t read much in his face in the dark car, but to my relief, he nodded. “Get right back. And keep your cell phone on.”
“I’d planned to check on Granny and my cats, but I can call instead,” I compromised.
“It’ll be dark by the time y’all get back,” Jack reminded me. “I’ll have the guards Katy wants in place by then, and probably come by, too, if I can get away.”
We didn’t talk much more on the way to the gas station, except at one point Katy asked Jack to call the hospital and check on Gabe. He dialed his cell phone, then handed it to her, so he could concentrate on the road.
“Hello,” Katy said. “This is Katy Gueydan. I’m calling to check on Gabe Purdy. And the police officer.”
Katy listened for a moment, and I stroked Trucker in the back seat. Too bad there wasn’t a burger stand open. I’d buy Trucker one of those juicy double-meats he loved. He deserved that and more for all he’d done this night.
Wrong mind trail. My mouth salivated again. I made a mental note to get some hamburger and maybe even a few steaks tomorrow, one for the dog. We’d have to buy out a grocery store somewhere to replenish Katy’s kitchen, after we finished our statements in Jefferson and before I headed for Dallas.
Jack was a careful driver, and he knew these country roads, since he’d been traveling them the past two years. He sped along fast enough that anything beyond the edge of the road blurred. Mind stress-tired, I laid my head against the back seat and let it wander away from the day’s grisly happenings. The car stopped abruptly and I jerked, realizing I’d been asleep. I glanced through the windshield, where an armadillo ambled across the road. Once it safely reached the other side, Jack drove on.
Stifling a yawn, I said, “Uh...I fell asleep, Katy. How are things at the hospital?”
“Both Gabe and Officer O’Neil are going to be all right. They pumped their stomachs and gave them an antidote. They’re keeping them overnight.”
“Any lab results back yet?” I asked.
“I didn’t think to ask. Should I call back?”
“No,” Jack said as he drove into the gas station and pulled up to the pumps. “I’ll check later. Might as well fill up while I’m here. You two go on in. I’ll keep an eye on the animals.”
When we hit the gas station door, I said, “I’ve got to pee." The coffee was clamoring for release. Someone once said you didn’t buy coffee, you just rented it. Come to think of it, they say that about beer, too.
I emerged from the restroom to find that Katy had piled the counter full of various items. The night clerk stared in awe, and at first I thought he was excited about the great sales tally. But he said, “You’re Miss Katy, ain’t you?”
Katy nodded. The gas station/convenience store was only about ten miles from Esprit d’Chene, and it didn’t surprise me that the clerk knew Katy. Everyone in the county probably either knew or had heard of Katy Gueydan, even though she’d only been living there a little more than a year. Katy’s the type of person people notice, and who enjoys the notoriety. On the other hand, I enjoy my seclusion. Hmmm. Wonder why Katy and I remained so close, despite our differences, yet that same rift of attitudes helped destroy mine and Jack’s marriage? Probably becaus
e Katy and I never tried to live together.
Losing interest in what I assumed would be a gushing oratory from the clerk at meeting a local celebrity, I grabbed a bag of dog food and cans of cat food. Miss Molly might turn her nose up at that brand, but she’d eat if she got hungry enough. Trucker would eat just about anything I put in front of him. When I approached the counter, Katy was saying. “Do you remember who it was?”
“Nah, didn’t know her,” the clerk said. “It was rainin’ here yesterday evenin’, and she just stuck her head in the door. Had a raincoat on, black one, I think. Could’ve been blue, wet like that. Kept her umbrella nearly over her face.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Some woman was here yesterday asking how to get to Esprit d’Chene,” Katy told me.
I plopped the dog and cat food on the counter. “I’m getting Jack." But I didn’t have far to go. I nearly bumped into Jack when he came in the door.
“Jack! Someone was here asking how to get to Katy’s yesterday evening. Oh, and I forgot about these." I pulled the tapes out of my jeans pocket and handed them to him — too harried to recall that Katy only knew about one tape.
“You’re giving him two tapes, Alice?” Katy asked. I turned to see her staring at me with a quickly-masked glare. “I thought the first tape was just tangled.”
“The call I kept from you was probably just a prank,” I assured her. “You were pretty shaky. I didn’t want to bother you with it, what with your hangov — uh...all the stress you’d had.”
“I want to hear that other tape. After all, it came from my answering machine.”
“We’ll listen to them when we get back,” Jack put in. “What’s this about someone looking for Katy?”
“She didn’t actually ask for Miss Katy,” the clerk said. “Just directions to the plantation.”
“You got video surveillance?” Jack asked.
“Sometimes." The clerk glanced at a camera mounted on the wall. “If the manager don’t forget to change the tapes. The one I changed when I came on this evenin’ was from a couple of days ago.”
“What was she drivin’?” Jack questioned.
“Donno. She parked over on the side of the buildin’, so I didn’t see her car.”
“Sounds like she was trying to keep anyone from identifying her,” I said thoughtfully.
“I’ll be back to talk to you tomorrow,” Jack told the clerk. “In the meantime . . ." He pulled a business card from his wallet and a pen from his shirt pocket and wrote a number on the card. “My cell phone number. Call if you remember anything else about the woman.”
“Okey-dokey." The clerk stuck the card in his shirt pocket.
Jack took a credit card from his wallet. “Put all this on here. I paid for my gas at the pump.”
“No,” I said, when Katy just stood there accepting Jack’s offer to pay for the groceries. “I’ll get the groceries.”
“Alice . . .” Jack began, then shrugged in resignation. “Do it her way.”
As the clerk rang up the groceries, Katy wandered away. Trying not to be noticeable, I watched as she went to the candy aisle and picked up a couple off-name-brand bags of candy, a bag of chips, and beef jerky, and some of those two-for-a-buck, usually stale, bags of peanuts. She was so inattentive, she almost appeared to be walking in her sleep. When she returned to the counter and laid the items down, she seemed to wake up, staring at them in confusion.
“When did you start eating junk food?” I asked.
“I...don’t. Uh...I’ll put this stuff back.”
As Katy returned the junk, I dug out a credit card of my own, since I hadn’t brought that much cash with me. I’d have to hit an ATM tomorrow.
“Sorry,” the clerk said. “We don’t take American Express.”
“Look,” Jack said. “Let me — ”
“Do you take debit cards?” I interrupted.
“Yeah, if we can reach your bank this time of night.”
I handed him my debit card, and he ran it through the machine. Evidently, the phone lines between Jefferson and Six Gun were working, because after I punched in my code, it came back approved. The clerk bagged the groceries, and I looked at what Katy had bought.
Ugh. Some microwave sandwiches and pizzas. A half-dozen frozen dinners that looked like they were probably freezer-burned. A few cans of stew, the cans so dusty I could see her fingerprints on the tops. At least she’d found some soup, but two of the cans were so dented they looked as though they belonged in a grocery surplus warehouse. The cat food cans looked fresher. Maybe I’d share Miss Molly’s food.
The clerk had the groceries bagged before it hit me that Katy hadn’t bought any milk or eggs. I’d seen those in a cooler near the cat food. “Katy, you and Jack take these things on out. I’m going to get a — ”
“She’s already in the car,” Jack said. Sure enough, there Katy sat in the front seat of Jack’s sedan. Miss Molly peered out the window while Katy stroked her.
“Well, I like that,” I muttered. “We’re not her servants.”
“I don’t think she was thinkin’ at all,” Jack reflected.
“Yeah,” the clerk agreed. “It’s like she’s in some other world. Not what I expected when I got to meet Miss Katy from the manor house.”
Jack gathered the groceries, but I stayed behind to pick up some fresher items: the eggs, some bacon — damn the cholesterol — milk, biscuits, cold cuts, and bread. I added a few apples, oranges, and bananas from a basket on the counter. All the while I planned how to jail Katy in her bedroom when we got home to find out what the hell was going on inside her mind.