JAMMED WITH MURDER

by Donna Walo Clancy

  “Come in, Sandy,” Betsy said, smiling.

  Betsy stood aside so that the young woman could enter. As soon as she was a good distance into the foyer, Deputy Small closed the door, locked it, and stood in front of it. She instantly realized she was not there to buy the house and tried to fight her way out the front door. Sheriff Puckett grabbed her and placed her on the couch next to Betsy.

  “Tabby, you can come out now,” Sheriff Puckett yelled.

  Tabby and Greg accompanied Samuel Benson out of the kitchen while Deputy Mason towed Jack Fletcher and his chair back into the living room. Sandy’s eyes grew wide as saucers to see her husband standing there and Jack Fletcher in handcuffs.

  “Would you please start, Tabby?” the Sheriff requested.

  “Let’s start at the beginning. Samuel Benson is really Samuel Bender, Carl Bender’s son, only he didn’t know that until after his mother died.”

  Tabby walked over to where Fletcher was sitting.

  “Jack Fletcher was one of the two unidentified accomplices in the bank robbery. He stayed here in Whipper Will Junction searching for the money that he was gypped out of when Carl Bender took the whole amount for himself. Under the pretense of doing work for Mrs. Piper, he was always in the house searching for the money while Mrs. Piper was at the library. She had no idea who he was or what he was doing while she wasn’t here.”

  She walked around a little more until she got to the couch where Sandy was sitting.

  “You had me fooled the most and I’m sure your husband was just as taken in as I was by your acting,” Tabby said to Sandy.

  “What do you mean taken in?” Samuel asked.

  “It always bothered me that a wife wasn’t told who her husband really was once he found out himself and she only admitted that she knew after she was caught lying about it,” Tabby started.

  “But, I did tell her,” Samuel insisted.

  “Not according to her, you didn’t. She played dumb to this whole bank robbery thing, too dumb. I did a little research online after talking to a Mr. Long who was at the bank the day it was robbed. It seems the get-a-way car was driven by an unknown female driver. But, Sandy, we know who the driver was, don’t we?”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” she insisted, glaring at Tabby.

  “Yes, you do. The driver was your mother of whom you are a mirror image when she was your age. Mrs. Piper recognized you at the diner. We all thought it was Samuel that she recognized, but it wasn’t. She knew your mother back in the day and picked you out immediately.”

  “Samuel, what was Sandy’s maiden name?”

  “Mayo.”

  “Exactly. Bridget Tullinson divorced Dave Tullinson after the robbery. She took the two kids and went back to her maiden name of Mayo and moved to the outskirts of Larsen. Sandra Mayo was her daughter.”

  “That was her name before we got married. She likes to be called Sandy now,” Samuel stated.

  “Sandra Mayo graduated high school and chose to go to school here. Can you guess why?” Tabby asked.

  “This is all rubbish,” Sandy commented.

  “Her mother related the story of the bank robbery to her daughter many times while she was growing up. The son got so sick of listening to his mother’s pity me stories, he moved out at the age of seventeen and hasn’t seen his sister or his mother since. Bridget also kept tabs on Bender’s wife and son and told her daughter what school Samuel was going to so that they could just happen to meet up and she could use him to find the missing money.”

  “She introduced herself to me at a frat party and started hanging around the frat house,” Samuel said, giving Sandy a dirty look.

  “But, after all the years of planning, Mrs. Piper recognized you the first week you were in town. You couldn’t let her ruin everything, so you had to get rid of her,” Tabby stated, staring Sandy down.

  “Wait a minute. I may have used Samuel to find the money, but I didn’t kill anyone,” Sandy yelled.

  “I know you didn’t. Don’t we Betsy?” Tabby asked, moving to stand in front of Mrs. Piper’s daughter.

  Betsy broke down sobbing, burying her face in her hands.

  “Why did you do it, Betsy? Why did you kill your own mother?” Tabby asked.

  “How did you know it was me?” she wanted to know.

  “The day of the memorial service you said your mother was strangled, not murdered. That information was not released to the general public. Tillie and myself were sworn to secrecy before we left the library the day that it happened. The only other two people who knew were the sheriff and coroner. Even her death certificate had homicide listed as the cause of death, not strangulation.”

  “It was an accident, I swear,” Betsy insisted.

  “What happened?”

  “My whole life I took second place to that stupid money that was never found. My mother devoted her life to finding it and left me to fend for myself growing up. That day, I went to the library to see her. It was my birthday and I wanted her to go to supper with me. She told me she had seen Bridget’s daughter at the diner the previous night and was afraid that she had come to town to find the money.”

  “Keep going,” Sheriff Puckett said.

  “She was ripping through newspapers, throwing around films, and basically losing it. I asked her again to go to supper with me. She told me she couldn’t care less that it was my birthday and she had to beat Bridget’s daughter to the money. She didn’t have time to waste on stupid things like my birthday.”

  “You lost your temper, didn’t you? After all the years of being ignored this was the final straw?” Tabby asked.

  “She was facing the fiche machine and before I knew what was happening I had my hands around her throat strangling her. All the built-up anger came out of me at once and I kept choking her until I saw her hand go limp and then I realized what I had done. I snuck out the back door through the storage room.”

  “But, someone saw you, didn’t they?” the sheriff inquired. “And they started to blackmail you.”

  “Dave Tullinson saw me. He started demanding large sums of money to keep quiet. The amount kept going up and the demand became more frequent. One night, I agreed to meet him out near the drive-in to pay him off. He told me that this was just the beginning and that he expected a payment every week if I wanted his silence.”

  “I got a subpoena for both of your bank accounts and the withdrawals from one of your account matched perfectly to the deposits made to his account,” the sheriff informed her.

  “He followed me to the trunk of my car where I always kept the money. But, instead of handing him the bag I hit him with the tire iron. He fell to the ground, but the first blow didn’t kill him. I knew if he survived he would run right to the sheriff. I hit him repeatedly so that he wouldn’t walk away. I pushed his body down into the gulley, wiped the tire iron clean of fingerprints, tossed it in the leaves, and drove home.”

  “But, you didn’t kill him,” Greg stated.

  “I was shocked to find out he lived through it and was at Larsen General,” Betsy admitted.

  “Well, now that you have your killer I would like to leave,” Sandy insisted.

  “You’re not going anywhere but to jail,” Sheriff Puckett answered her.

  “On what charges?” she demanded.

  “Kidnapping and falsifying a police report,” he answered.

  “And who did I kidnap?”

  “Samuel Benson. You conspired with Mr. Fletcher to have your husband kidnapped and kept out of the way because he wouldn’t help you find the money. You also filed a false report with the police saying he was kidnapped on Main Street when he was kidnaped out of his own bed.”

  “Seriously? You think you can make those charges stick? Tell them, Samuel. Tell them I didn’t kidnap you,” she demanded of her husband.

  “I hope they put you away for a long time,” Samuel said, staring at the floor.

  “Jack, the statute of limitations might have run out on the b
ank robbery, but the murder of the guard that happened during the robbery is another story. And, we will be adding kidnapping to the charges also.”

  Sheriff Puckett placed handcuffs on Betsy and Sandy. Jack Fletcher was uncuffed from the chair and handcuffed again for transport. The prisoners were led out the front door to the waiting cruisers. Once they were in the vehicles, Sheriff Puckett locked the front door to the house.

  Tabby and Greg stood on the front porch watching the cruisers pull away. Samuel sat on the front steps still processing the thought that his marriage was a sham after all these years.

  “Tabby, I’m going to walk home by myself. I need some fresh air and some time to think,” he said.

  “Are you sure that you don’t want us to walk with you to the center of town?” Tabby asked.

  “No, thanks anyway. I’ll talk to you in the next couple of days,” he said, as he walked down the stairs.

  “What say we go home, Miss Detective?” Greg asked, taking hold of her hand.

  “Gladly. What will happen to the house now that Betsy will go to prison?” Tabby asked.

  “I don’t know,” Greg replied. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

  Greg walked her up to her apartment door.

  “You will be here at seven in the morning to go with me, right?”

  “I’ll be right at your side, Miss Moon. Do you think I want to pass up seeing half a million dollars? And, I’m dying to know where it is after all these years?” he answered. “No hint at all?”

  “Nope, you’ll have to be here in the morning,” she teased. “I only told the sheriff where it is, and he called the FBI. Sheriff Puckett insisted that I be the one to lead the agents to where it is hidden, and they agreed to his request.”

  “Okay, the morning it is,” he said, kissing her. “See you then.”

  CHAPTER 14

  * * *

  Tabby hadn’t been able to sleep much. She studied the cemetery plot map, checking and rechecking her information. She didn’t want to be wrong in front of the FBI. She finally dozed off getting about two hours’ worth of sleep.

  Greg was knocking on the door at six forty-five with coffees in hand. The FBI pulled up in front of the shop at seven. Sheriff Puckett was waiting at the house on Ball Road. Tabby and Greg crawled into the back seat of the FBI’s car. Gladys Twittle was standing on the sidewalk watching everything.

  They pulled up to the house and were met by Sheriff Puckett and his two deputies. Four shovels leaned up against the squad car. Tabby pulled out her map of the cemetery.

  “I got to thinking about the Floater,” she started. “The ghost started showing up after Carl Bender died in prison. He wanders around the cemetery reading the stones.”

  “Seriously? We’re out here because of a ghost?” one of the agents asked.

  “Hear her out,” the Sheriff requested. “It will make sense once you hear the whole thing.”

  “During Carl Bender’s last interview before he died, he kept repeating the phrase, “I’ll take it to the grave with me.” Everyone assumed that he was talking about the location of the money and who his accomplices were. You know, you say that phrase when you swear you won’t tell anyone what you know. What if he was trying to get a message to someone about the actual location of the money?” Tabby asked.

  “You think the money is buried with him in his grave?” another agent asked.

  “No. I think the money is buried in an unmarked plot that Carl Bender bought before the bank robbery. He would have had plenty of time to bury the money and only he would know about the plot purchase. He figured he would be able to come back for it later.”

  “What about the ghost?” Sheriff Puckett asked.

  “I pulled up the records from the cemetery association. Carl Bender was buried in a state-owned plot because he died in prison. State officials didn’t know he had already purchased his own personal plot. The ghost is confused because his body is not where it is supposed to be; the original Bender plot,” Tabby stated.

  “Do you know where it is?” Greg asked.

  “I sure do, let’s go,” Tabby said.

  She followed her map directions and it took only ten minutes for her to find the vacant plot. It was far back in the cemetery and no one would have even known it was a purchased plot.

  “Grab a shovel, deputies, and let’s start digging,” Sheriff Puckett ordered.

  All four shovels were being used, digging at different spots on the plot. Twenty minutes into the digging, Greg’s shovel hit something metal in the ground. He stepped back and let the agents dig. Ten minutes later, a metal chest was pulled from the ground. The agents had brought a bolt cutter with them and cut the padlock that held the chest closed.

  The lid was flipped open. Layers and layers of banded money filled the chest. The stolen bank money had finally been recovered.

  “You are one smart woman,” Greg said, picking her up and twirling her around.

  The agents closed the cover and congratulated Tabby on a job well done.

  “You do know that there are still two active rewards available for finding this money,” one of the agents told her. “One from the bank and one from the insurance company. We will be in touch.”

  The FBI drove away with the chest in their vehicle, Tabby and Greg rode back to Main Street with the sheriff. It had been an exciting morning, but Tabby had to get to the shop. Janice had agreed to come in early to cover for her until she got back from treasure hunt.

  “I’ll be in for coffee later,” the sheriff said, through the car window.

  Tabby and Greg walked through the front door. Janice sprang off the register looking for answers.

  “Did you find the money?”

  “She sure did,” Greg answered proudly.

  “You found the missing money that people haven’t been able to find for twenty-three years? Way to go, Boss!” Janice said, high fiving her. “I wish I could have seen it.”

  “It was awesome,” Tabby said.

  “And she has reward money coming to her for finding it,” Greg added.

  “So cool.”

  “Miss, can we pay for our jelly?” a customer asked that Janice had left standing at the register.

  “I’m sorry,” Janice apologized as she returned to the register.

  “Did she really find money? Was it a pirate treasure?” the customer whispered.

  “No, it was money from a bank robbery in 1994 and my boss was smart enough to figure out where it was,” Janice bragged.

  “Wait until I tell Gladys about this,” she said, putting down her jelly and running out of the shop.

  “Oh boy, here we go again,” Tabby said, watching the lady run from the shop.

  The next day was extremely busy in the shop as word got out that Tabby found the missing bank money. Tabby had to repeat her story at least a hundred times that is was the Floater who really gave her the answers to where the money was.

  Friday was Christmas Eve. The businesses were all closing at three to spend time with family. Tabby had a special surprise waiting for Greg when he arrived at her apartment for their first Christmas Eve together.

  CHAPTER 15

  * * *

  Tabby closed the shop and changed into a pretty emerald green dress with a red sash that showed off her auburn hair. Greg was due any minute and his present was in the spare bedroom. She had bought prime rib, potatoes for baking, and asparagus for dinner. It was almost ready to eat. The tree was lit and Tabby was ready to spend Christmas Eve with Greg.

  Greg knocked on the door and let himself in. He took off his coat and hung it on the coat hooks just inside the door. Decked out in a three-piece suit, he was more handsome than ever, if that could even be possible. He picked his girlfriend up and gave her a swing.

  “Merry Christmas Eve,” he said, planting a big kiss on her.

  “Right back at you. Don’t we look special tonight?” Tabby said, smiling.

  “It’s a special night,” he answered.

&nbs
p; “I can’t wait to give you your gift. Sit at the kitchen table, I have a story to tell you.”

  Greg sat down, amused at Tabby’s excitement.

  “There was a shop in Carsen’s Bend and it was owned by an elderly gentleman. He was at his shop six days a week with his faithful companion, Buchannan. Buchannan loved the customers and he was the shop mascot for many years. But, the elderly gentleman died, and no one wanted his dog, so he ended up at the shelter.”

  “That’s sad,” Greg said.

  “I know. He was a beautiful chocolate lab, but he was old. The dog became depressed because he had no people around him like he did at the shop. He sat in the corner of his cage and didn’t even lift his head when people came into the shelter, knowing he would be passed up again and again.”

  “I think I know where this is going,” Greg said. smiling.

  “He was due to be euthanized the week after Christmas. You always said you wanted a dog, but were afraid to get one because you had to spend so much time at the shop. Buchannan needs a shop to hang around in and a good home. Stay here,” Tabby said, opening the second bedroom door.

  Buchannan came strolling out of the bedroom, tail wagging, wearing a big red bow. Tabby knelt next to Greg and called the dog over. Greg put his hand down to the dog so that he could get his scent. Buchannan covered his hand in kisses and put his front paws up on Greg’s lap so that he could kiss his face.

  “See the sparkle in his eyes. It wasn’t there three days ago when I saw him at the shelter. He loves people and is so appreciative that he was taken out of that place. I have fallen in love with the big guy and the funny thing is, the cats don’t even mind him being around. He’s so mellow and he won’t try to run out of the door at the shop either.”

  “You did a good thing, Miss Moon. He’s awesome and I’m glad I can bring him to the flower shop with me. It’s you and me, Buchannan, until the end,” he said giving the dog a hug.

  “I knew you two were made for each other,” Tabby said, her heart bursting with love for both of them.