The tables were returned to their normal positions for Bingo the following night. They had a few more trips downstairs to put things away and the hall would be back to normal. Another successful Whipper Will Junction Children’s Christmas Party was in the books. Now, it was time for the volunteers to turn their attention to their own families and celebrations.
Jenny had gone home. Tabby and Greg were talking to the head Bear about Greg joining the lodge. The next initiation was in February and Greg was more than welcome to join.
The lodge door opened with a bang. Sally Benson came rushing into the bingo hall searching frantically for someone. She spotted Tabby and ran over to the group.
“Someone took Samuel. A car pulled up next to us as we were walking up Main Street to go to the diner. A man in a mask jumped out and grabbed my husband and shoved him into the back seat. Tabby, you need to help me; you need to help Samuel,” Sandy Benson lamented, breaking out in tears.
CHAPTER 13
* * *
“I’ll call Sheriff Puckett,” Greg said, pulling out his cell phone.
“Who would do this? Why do they want Samuel?” Sandy asked through the tears.
“Because they probably think he’s knows something about the missing bank money,” Tabby answered.
“What bank money? What are you talking about?” Sandy asked, wide-eyed.
“Don’t play stupid, Sandy. Everyone heard your fight outside the school the other night. Your husband is the son of Carl Bender, who made off with over half a million dollars in a bank robbery back in 1994. The money has never been recovered and whoever took your husband probably thinks he knows where it is,” Tabby stated.
“Yes, I knew who his father was, she admitted, but I didn’t know about the bank robbery and I don’t think Samuel does either.”
“Seriously?” Tabby said, doubting her explanation.
“Is that why we moved back here? So… he could find the money?” Sandy stammered.
“In my opinion, no. I don’t think that Samuel knew anything about the bank robbery or that his father was involved. He told Mr. Wells that he came back here because his mother loved this place and he wanted to settle down away from the city.” Tabby answered. “He wasn’t interested in who his father was.”
“Will I ever see him again?” Sandy asked, starting to cry.
Sheriff Puckett walked up to the women, open notebook in hand.
“Mrs. Benson, can you come with me please?”
“Yeah, sure,” she mumbled, looking at Tabby.
“I hope they find Samuel,” Tabby said as Sandy walked away with the sheriff.
Sheriff Puckett led the distraught woman to a table and started to question her. Tabby and Greg left to eat supper at the diner. The Twittles were sitting in the young couple’s usual booth even though there were many other booths open.
The gossip queen’s hair was dyed bright red for the holidays. Her bright red dress was covered in candy canes. She was a walking billboard for Christmas. She leaned out of the booth and smiled at Tabby.
What a troublemaker.
“What are you having?” Greg asked, oblivious to everything going on with Gladys.
“Shepherd’s Pie for me. I want something that’s going to warm me up inside,” Tabby replied.
“Sounds good to me,” he agreed, closing the menu.
El walked up to the table chuckling.
“Love your outfits,” she said taking out her order pad.
The young couple didn’t think anything of their elf costumes they still had on. They had been in them all day and didn’t go home to change before they went to the diner for supper. Boots had been substituted for elf shoes and the hats were in Tabby’s purse, but they still had on the elf smocks and tights. That was why people were taking a second look at them as they passed by their table.
“Thanks. We’ll have two orders of Shepherd’s Pie and two mocha frappes, please,” Greg stated.
El left to place their order. Gladys kept peeking around the booth just to drive Tabby crazy.
“I’m going Christmas shopping in Larsen on Tuesday. Do you want to go with me?” Tabby asked.
“No, I’m good. I finished my shopping last week when I was in Larsen picking up my flower order,” he answered, unwrapping a straw.
“You still haven’t told me what you want for Christmas,” Tabby commented.
“Yes, I did. I told you I had you and that was all that I wanted this year.”
“I mean a gift,” Tabby insisted.
“I really don’t need anything. If I want something, I go and get it. It’s a guy thing, I guess.”
“You’re no help. I guess I am on my own to figure out what to get you,” Tabby pouted.
“I guess you are,” he snickered.
They discussed Christmas while they ate. Greg decided to stay with Tabby this year when he found out her mother would be gone. He called his aunt to tell her his plans and found out that she was traveling to Boston with a friend to spend the holiday in the city. Things worked out well for each of them.
It was decided that Greg would stay at Tabby’s Christmas Eve. They would have a quiet dinner together, exchange gifts, and watch Christmas movies. Christmas Day, they would visit with Bea and Jenny at Jenny’s place.
Plans firmed up, they finished dinner and cut through the town green to return to the lodge to pick up Tabby’s car. Greg had walked that morning as his house was a stone’s throw from there.
A white piece of paper was stuck under Tabby’s windshield wiper. She loosened the frozen wiper and grabbed the paper.
“MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS,” was written in large letters across the page.
“Interesting,” Tabby said.
“Interesting? Someone threatens you and that’s all you have to say?” Greg retorted.
“This just means that I’m getting close to answers and someone doesn’t like it,” she said tucking the paper into her purse. “I’ll have to show this to Sheriff Puckett in the morning.”
“Not much rattles you, does it?” Greg asked.
“Some things do, but not something like this. Whoever wrote this is just trying to scare me away,” Tabby insisted.
“Just remember… THEY took Samuel tonight and you could be next. A half a million is a lot of money and they want it bad,” Greg warned.
“I’ll be careful, I promise.”
“Yeah, where have I heard that before,” Greg muttered.
“You worry too much. Give me a kiss so I can head home. We both have shops to open in the morning,” Tabby said, leaning in for a kiss.
“Call me when you get home and the door is locked behind you,” Greg requested.
“I will,” she promised.
Monday was spent cooking. The shop inventory had been pretty much wiped out during the Stroll. They had been stocking the shelves with the reserves that Tabby kept up in the apartment.
Tuesday morning Tabby left for Larsen. She was taking half the day off to finish her Christmas shopping. She had several stops to make as she had finally figured out what to get Greg for Christmas.
Larsen was busy. Christmas was approaching fast and people were out and about in the city doing last minute shopping. Tabby enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the season and was glad that Janice shamed her into visiting the city to finish her shopping. She walked Larsen Boulevard going in and out of stores if something caught her fancy in the window.
First Commerce Bank of Larsen was just off the boulevard. Tabby decided to visit the bank on the chance someone was still working there that had been there during the robbery back in 1994. It was a slim chance, but she figured she would try while she was there.
She was escorted into the bank president’s office. She told him what was happening in Whipper Will Junction and that all the events seemed to be tied back to the bank robbery.
He, himself, was not at the bank when it happened, but his uncle was a customer service representative who was in the bank the day of the robbery. He
called his uncle who gave permission for Tabby to visit. He was retired and lived in a small house on Route 127 and would enjoy the visit. Tabby would have to pass the residence on her way home. She thanked the president and continued her shopping quest.
With all her Christmas purchases in the back seat, she started for home. The president of the bank told her to look for a small sign on the right that had the numbers two-five-three carved into it. She found it no problem and drove up the short dirt road off the highway.
It was the only house on the road. Tabby knocked on the front door which was answered by an elderly gentleman with a magnifying glass in his hand. Tabby introduced herself and was invited in.
“My name is Edward Long., nice to meet you, Tabby. I am an avid stamp collector. It has been my hobby since I retired,” he said, as they walked into the living room. “Do you like stamps?”
“I’ve never collected them personally, but I have a friend who does,” she answered.
“Would you like a cup of tea?”
“I would love one,” she answered, sensing the elderly man did not get a lot of company.
“Have a seat,” he gestured. “So, you are here to ask me about the bank robbery of 1994.”
“Yes, I am sir.”
“I was in the bank that day. My office was at the front of the building facing the street. When the yelling started, I peeked out the door and saw three people in ski masks. I saw the guard get shot and tucked myself under my desk hoping I wouldn’t be found. I heard the door open, but thankfully they didn’t come in and look around.”
“You didn’t see any of the bank robber’s faces to identify them,” Tabby asked.
“No, they all had their faces covered,” he replied, setting down the tea in front of his guest. “I heard them telling the bank customers to stay on the floor and count to twenty,” he said, sitting down at the table.
“What happened next?”
“I crawled out from under my desk to the window. I looked out in time to see them getting into a car parked at the front door. They all still had their masks on except for the driver.”
“You saw the driver?” Tabby asked excitedly.
“I did. She was a young woman, with blond hair. The robber that jumped in the front seat reached over and hugged her. They kissed and she drove away. I couldn’t identify her from any of the pictures the FBI showed me.”
“I wonder why none of this was in the police report?”
“It was in the FBI report. They were the ones who interviewed me because a bank robbery falls under federal jurisdiction. I bet the reports you have are local police reports.”
“Yes, they are.”
“Anyway, the bank guard that was shot told the FBI who shot him because he was double-crossed. They got Carl Bender in Whipper Will Junction several days later, but never recovered the money or found out who his accomplices were or who the driver was.”
“Someone has surfaced and is looking for the money,” Tabby stated. “Carl Bender’s son has returned to Whipper Will Junction and was supposedly kidnapped last night.”
“After all these years it’s starting up again… amazing.”
“I thank you for your time,” Tabby said standing up. “I have one more stop to make and then I have to get back to my shop.”
“Promise me that you will come back and tell me if they find the money,” Mr. Long asked.
“I will, I promise,” Tabby said. “And Merry Christmas.”
Back out on the highway, Tabby’s mind was trying to sort through the information that she had just received. She had to tell Sheriff Puckett about the female driver that was not in the local reports. It couldn’t have been Carl Bender’s wife because when she found out about the robbery, she took her son and disappeared, wanting nothing to do with it.
She stopped at her final destination, took care of what she had to do, and left, promising to return on Friday morning to pick up Greg’s present. Friday was Christmas Eve so everything would work out perfectly.
Tabby took her bundles up the back stairs to her apartment. The cats were crawling over and through the bags when she went downstairs to the shop. Thelma had just left for home and Janice was working behind the register. Tabby flipped into work mode and started helping the customers on the floor. The shop stayed busy right up to closing.
The cats were content eating their supper. Tabby pulled out her pots and started cooking her Holiday Jam. She stirred the fruit in the pot absentmindedly while running her conversation with Mr. Long through her head.
If the robber kissed the driver, it would make sense that they were friendly with each other. Jack Fletcher was gay long before it was okay to come out of the closet; so that left him out.
Tabby had previously done some research and found out that Dave Tullinson was married at the time of the robbery and didn’t divorce until 1997. His wife left Whipper Will Junction taking the two kids with her. She could have been the driver.
Tabby had some research to do online as soon as she finished cooking. Things were starting to make sense to her, but she had to find proof before she could accuse anyone.
The next morning, she took a quick break from the store to run to the office of The Whipper Will Cemetery Association. She took out the deed log and searched it for a certain name. She found what she was looking for.
Tabby stopped at the sheriff’s office to tell him what she had found and to share a plan that she had concocted to get at the truth. She needed Sheriff Puckett’s presence to help bring it to an end. He agreed to put the plan into action that night.
She had a hard time concentrating at work. She called Greg and asked him to come to the shop on his lunch hour. He showed up at one and she explained to him what was going to happen later that night. He agreed to go to the house on Ball Road with her and help.
The store closed. Tabby changed out of her work clothes into jeans, a heavy sweatshirt, and hiking boots. Greg showed up and together they walked to the house on Ball Road.
The sheriff called Jack Fletcher at six o’clock and asked him to meet him at the house under the pretense that pipes leading to the outdoor sprinkler system had burst and that Betsy Piper had told the sheriff that Fletcher still had a key to get in to shut the water off.
Sheriff Puckett had one of his dispatchers make a call to Sandy Benson. She made up a name and introduced herself as the new realtor for the Piper property. She told her Betsy Piper had agreed to sell to her and her husband, but certain things had to be ironed out before an agreement could be signed. Sandy Benson jumped at the chance to meet Betsy at the house, even though Samuel Benson still had not been found and he would not be the acting realtor on the deal.
The sheriff also placed a call to Betsy about the pipes bursting, but he called her on his cell phone from outside the Piper house. Sandy Benson knew Betsy Piper’s car and she needed to see it parked there so she would enter the house.
Tabby and Greg arrived at the house. Jack Fletcher was handcuffed to a chair with Deputy Small guarding him. Deputy Mason was watching out the front window for anyone arriving.
Tabby took Greg and Sheriff Puckett up the stairs to the first bedroom. She went to the fireplace and ran her hand along the bottom of the mantle in the same manner that Betsy had. They heard a faint click and the wall swung open.
Samuel Benson lay tied up and gagged on the floor in the corner of the secret room. He looked up, waiting for his eyes to get accustomed to the light, and the relief was evident on his face that it was who it was looking back at him. The sheriff took out his pocket knife and started to work on the ropes that bound him. Tabby untied the gag.
“Samuel, are you all right?” Sheriff Puckett asked him once the gag was removed.
“I’m okay, but I would love a drink of water. My mouth is so dry from the gag,” he answered slowly.
“Do you know who put you in here?” Tabby asked.
“I have no idea. I was grabbed from bed and a hood was shoved over my head. Is my wife all righ
t? They didn’t hurt her, did they?”
“She’s fine, you’ll be able to see for yourself shortly. You have to do me a big favor, though,” Tabby asked.
“Anything. I thought I was going to die in here,” Samuel mumbled.
“We are going to take you downstairs and hide you in the kitchen. No matter what you hear, you have to promise not to say a word until we go into the living room,” Tabby explained. “Can you do that?”
“Yes, I can,” Samuel agreed as they stood him up.
“They walked down the stairs with Samuel. When they came into Jack Fletcher’s line of sight and he saw the man that he had hidden upstairs, his shoulders sagged, and he knew he was done for.
“You were the only one who had keys to the house,” Sheriff Puckett said to Fletcher. “It had to be you who put Mr. Benson in the room upstairs figuring no one would find him until it was too late.”
Jack Fletcher’s face contorted. He closed his eyes and sat in the chair, not admitting to anything.
“Come on, Samuel. Let’s get you a drink of water in the kitchen,” Tabby said.
They moved Jack Fletcher, chair and all, to the pantry off the kitchen. There were no exterior windows for him to escape and the pantry door could be locked from the kitchen side.
The next person to arrive was Betsy Piper. She was greeted by the sheriff and asked to sit in the living room on the couch. She demanded to know what was going on and the sheriff explained to her that they now knew who killed her mother and Dave Tullinson.
“My mother’s killer? You know who killed my mother?”
“Yes, we do. When the doorbell rings, please let the person in who shows up. Then, step back and let Deputy Small close the door from behind and lock it. The back door is being guarded by Deputy Mason.”
“Okay, I guess you know what you are doing,” Betsy agreed as she sat down on the couch.
Minutes later, the doorbell rang. The deputy took his place behind the door and Sheriff Puckett ducked out of sight behind the staircase. He nodded to Betsy to answer the door. She opened it to a smiling Sandy Benson who thought she was there to sign an agreement on the sale of the house.
JAMMED WITH MURDER Page 11