by N. C. Lewis
"Huh?" she grunted.
"How well did you know him?" Millie added.
Her lips twisted into a mock smile. "Well enough."
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"Well, enough for him to be the father of my teenage son."
Millie's eyes grew wide.
I swallowed hard.
Alyssa's face hardened, if that were possible. "Don't look so shocked. We were husband and wife for a very short time. I never loved Teddy. It was a… well, let's just call it a youthful mistake. He was behind on his alimony payments, said he was short of cash but would pay me soon. I didn't believe him."
Here before us was an excellent motive for murder. Millie must have been thinking the same thought. She took a little step backward and, in a voice higher than normal asked, "Where were you last night?"
For the first time, Alyssa offered a smile, slight but detectable. "What's that got to do with either of you?"
I spoke up, "Someone tried to set fire to Ealing Homestead last night, and I've got a feeling it's something to do with Teddy Tumpin."
"All right, if you must know." She paused, coughing with emotion. "I was doing something late last night. But I'm not going to tell you, or anyone else, what it was. It is not your business."
"You don't have to tell us anything," Millie said. "But you won't have that luxury with Sheriff Hays."
Alyssa stared at us with a look of black fury. "I'll answer to no one."
I watched her mouth hoping to match it to the brief glimpse of the teeth of the person who attacked me. It looked like a match, but then again it didn't.
Millie jumped in with a question, "Alyssa, do you know who killed Teddy Tumpin?"
Alyssa shouted, "This is an outrage! Just because I live in a trailer doesn't make me trash. How dare you make these insane accusations!"
This is just like the movies, I thought. The killer gets angry and confesses. Then my mind went to the burned down shack. Alyssa didn't look like she had any money, so I'd have to foot the bill. I sighed.
Alyssa fixed me with a penetrating leer. "We all know who killed Teddy Tumpin, so let's not pretend and try to throw sand in other people's eyes."
Any moment now, I thought, the confession would be coming.
Alyssa whirled and leveled a finger at me. "You—you're the killer!"
My jaw dropped, and my eyes threatened to pop from my head. "Me!" I cried.
Alyssa turned, marched up the stairs and slammed the trailer door shut.
"Hey ladies, over here!"
We turned to see a bare-chested man with a huge potbelly. His right hand clutched a brown bag. Tufts of stubble clung to his craggy face, and his dirty blue jeans streaked with ugly, brown stains were torn at the knees.
"Looking for a good time?" he questioned, taking a long sip from the brown bag.
"Come on Millie," I said. "There's nothing for us here, let's go."
Chapter 41
I drank deeply from my large cup of a Creek Jolt. It was a little after two in the afternoon. Moozoos Café was empty. The barista had taken an extended lunch break, and his assistant, on his own, polished and cleaned the equipment. We sat at a table by the window staring out onto Creek Street. There was little conversation at first as we processed what we had learned.
"You know," said Millie taking a birdlike sip from her cup, "it's beginning to make sense now. Teddy was killed by someone he knew; how else could they get close enough to strangle him?"
I nodded. "Did you see the size of Alyssa's hands?"
Millie smiled. "Yep. Imagine those monsters closing in around your neck."
The thought sent a shudder down my spine. "Later this afternoon I'll stop by the sheriff's office, bring Deputy Dingsplat up to date on what we've found out."
"Oh, no, no, no, Ollie. This case is almost in the bag, so let me write my article first, then we go visit with Deputy Dingsplat tomorrow morning. What do you say?"
"Not sure," I answered.
Millie waved her arms around. "Ollie, this story is my ticket to a full-time position at the Medlin Creek Times. I'll write the article this afternoon, and we can visit with Deputy Dingsplat in the morning, pleeeease."
"I don't like it," I said as I nodded.
Millie gave me a hug.
The doorbell tinkled and in hurried the barista. He glanced at his assistant, around the empty café, then picked up a tea towel and scampered over to where we sat. His lopsided eyes hinted at urgent news. With quick, little steps he was at our table.
"Ladies, how are your drinks?"
We both nodded knowing there was more.
"Have you heard the news?" he asked.
"What news?" said Millie, answering his question with a question.
The barista grinned baring white teeth that glinted in the dim café light. "Word on the Creek," he said, puffing out his chest like a fighting cockerel, "is that Roger Romantic is no longer in the custody of the Medlin Creek Sheriff's Department. Nor, if my contacts are to be believed, is he a suspect in the mysterious murder of Teddy Tumpin."
"Woo-hoo," I shouted.
"Yippee," Millie yelled, standing up, grabbing the barista and salsa dancing in little circles. The barista tilted his mango-shaped head back and laughed. After a minute or two he straightened out his apron and walked with dignified steps back to the bar. The assistant looked on, his mouth agape, but his eyes smiling.
"Okay, okay, okay, okay," Millie said, sitting back down. "Let's go visit Roger now. I guess you want to speak to him anyway about the wedding."
"I do, and I don't," I said.
But Millie was already on her feet. "Let's go, Ollie. Before I write my article, I'll get the lowdown from Roger." She was rubbing her hands like an explorer who had just discovered a diamond mine.
Just then, the gentle tinkle of the doorbell echoed throughout the café. In strolled Bob with Dominick. Bob nodded sagely as Dominick waved his arms around excitedly.
"Bob," cried Millie, running toward the bar.
The barista, fearful Millie would share the breaking news before he had a chance, puffed out his chest and opened his mouth. But it was too late, Millie had gotten there first.
"Roger's been released." She giggled, wrapping her arms around Bob.
The barista placed his hands on his hips and his lips curved downward in disappointment.
"Well, well, well," said Bob, giving Millie a hug. "That is good news."
Dominick chimed in. "And here is even better news. The mystery of the death of Teddy Tumpin has been solved."
Millie glanced in my direction with a quizzical look in her eyes. I shrugged. If Dominick had found out about Alyssa Westwood's motive, it wasn't that much of a scoop for Millie.
"Sid Wilson has been taken in for questioning," Dominick said with a smile.
"He did it!" cried the assistant. Then by way of explanation continued, "Sid Wilson came in here a few days ago asking for free coffee. I sensed he was up to no good, but murder! If it wasn't for vicar Braithwaite, he would have left empty-handed. The good reverend seems to attract riffraff like a magnet attracts iron."
A sense of deep relief washed through my body. Then I thought about Alyssa and wondered if they had caught the right person. Millie looked surprised but said nothing. She gave Bob a little kiss on his cheek. "Ollie and I are going to Roger's apartment now to see how he's doing. Want to come?"
Bob shook his head. "Dominick and I have some business to discuss. You go ahead; see you later."
Chapter 42
We drove toward Roger's apartment in silence. Millie sat with her knees against her chest, a frown creased into her forehead.
"Roger's not picking up," she said staring through the windshield. It was the third time she had called Roger.
The apartment parking lot was empty. I pulled the Tahoe into a space near the dumpster. In a large overhanging oak tree, a flock of grackles perched. I glanced up. One of the cunning birds was almost twice the size of the others.
&n
bsp; "Look at that grackle," I said to Millie in a hushed voice.
Her head pivoted toward my raised hand. The bird opened its sharp beak, and a terrifying shriek bellowed out.
"Not good," muttered Millie. "Not good at all."
I shuddered.
The bird's beady, black eyes followed us as we hurried into the apartment entrance.
The elevator door opened at Roger's floor. A short plump lady with a rather large nose and a small mouth waited to enter.
"Are you getting out on this floor?" she asked regarding us with a distasteful eye.
Millie nodded. "We're here to visit apartment 4B."
The woman jabbed a bony finger, and her tiny mouth opened wide to expose crooked yellow teeth. "Management has been notified. This is a private residence, not a commercial facility. If the residents of apartment 4B want to run a clairvoyance business, they should hire out a storefront."
The woman half turned and leered at me. "And you, madam, you should know better!"
We stepped out of the elevator. She stepped in and the doors closed.
Millie let out a chuckle as we strolled toward Roger's door. "Guess not everyone likes a mystic."
"Not when they are your next-door neighbor in a private apartment complex."
We reached Roger's front door and paused.
"Roger should be home by now," Millie commented, reaching out and turning the door handle. "It's locked."
An uncomfortable feeling settled in my stomach. Roger never locked his door. My hand shot out pressing the doorbell. Its sharp clang—clang—clang jarred my nerves. We waited impatiently for the door to open.
Nothing.
Now Millie pressed the doorbell.
Clang—clang—clang.
Nothing.
I leaned my ear against the door. Inside, I could hear a faint shuffling sound. It grew louder as I tried to figure out what it could be.
Suddenly, the door flew open. I stumbled forward into Crystal. A tree-trunk-sized arm pushed me back onto my feet.
"Well, well," she said. Her face puckered as if she had bitten into a sour lime. "The event center owner and the reporter—fancy that."
I felt a flush of heat go through me and a throbbing begin in my forehead. "So sorry," I muttered without real conviction.
Crystal's eyes, mere slits, stared back. "I can see you're in the habit of sneaking around and listening at other people's doors."
I let that pass.
"We are here to visit with Roger," I said, then added as an afterthought, "and to discuss details of the wedding."
That did it. Crystal stepped aside.
Inside, only two candles burned in the candelabrum, their weak yellow light insufficient to cut through the gloom. The scent of incense was mixed with the odor of burning wax, and low in the background, voices chanted inaudibly to the beat of a melodic drum.
Crystal's lips tugged into a half smile. "Roger's on the phone right now; shall we discuss the wedding first?"
"Of course," I said. But I didn't want to talk about the wedding, not yet. "Can I trouble you for a hot drink?"
Crystal pointed to two wingback chairs. "Please take a seat and I'll get some refreshments." She stared at me for a long moment then plodded toward the kitchen.
Millie half turned and in a hushed voice whispered through the gloom, "Oh my gosh Ollie! There was something unnerving about the way she just stared at you through those big owl-like eyes of hers. I think she saw something about your future, don't think it was good either."
I didn't like the way Crystal peered at me, but said, "Probably mixed us up. I think she thought I was you. I bet it happens all the time, especially in this gloom."
Millie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Really?"
Crystal shambled back into the room with a china teapot and three cups on a silver tray. She edged the tray onto a coffee table, poured out the steaming amber liquid, passed around the china cups and settled into a wingback chair opposite us.
I half wondered whether the tea contained poison. Crystal took a sip, her huge orbs staring directly into my face. Millie lifted the china cup between her thumb and forefinger. She sniffed, then with her eyes half closed sipped.
"Ah, Da-Hong Pao tea, one of my favorites," Millie said.
Crystal's lips tugged into a smile. "A pleasant little habit I picked up in San Francisco's Chinatown."
I took a sip, and it had a light, delicate, almost fruity flavor. Whatever other habits Crystal had picked up in her time in California, this clearly was one of the better ones.
Crystal watched with an unreadable glint in her eye as I took another sip. She smiled as I too nodded in appreciation.
"Now to the wedding," she said with a friendly tinkle in her voice.
"Perhaps we should wait until Roger gets here," I suggested.
Crystal picked up her teacup and took another sip. "He'll be down momentarily once he finishes his phone call. We can go ahead and he'll join us. Now, the wedding is to take place at Ealing Homestead, so tell me what you've arranged."
Oh crap! I needed to stall for a little while longer. What did John use to say? "Create a diversion so unexpected it changes the thought waves."
I pressed my palm to my cheek. Crystal leaned forward, an eager glint in her eyes. My mind raced for a diversion, then I remembered what John always told me. "Curiosity is like a diversion bomb."
"Crystal, what were you doing behind the dumpster last night with that crate?" I said it a little too quickly, then added, "and where did you go so late at night in your truck?"
Crystal's eyes widened.
Mine narrowed.
Behind her dark, fiercely glowing eyes, I could sense thoughts were churning. She took a long slow sip from her cup. "What business is that of yours?"
I pressed on looking to create an even bigger diversion. "Why did you try to kill me yesterday evening?"
Millie let out a gasp and sat upright in her chair.
Crystal stood up and her chair slid away, tipping over and falling on the floor. "What!" she yelled.
"Attempted murder is a serious offense," I replied, wanting to stand, but my legs felt like jelly.
That did it. Crystal's face shifted from anger to full-on rage. She rushed forward grabbing at my neck with her oversized arms. I rolled out of the chair onto the floor. Crystal grasped thin air and she cussed.
Just then I heard a door close. It wasn't a slam but a firm determined closing.
Everyone turned.
On the far side of the room by the staircase that led to the second level, stood Roger. In his hand he held his cell phone. My first glimpse of his face told me all I wanted to know. There was an unusual sparkle in his eyes, an authoritativeness to his posture.
"Crystal," he said holding up the cell phone, "it's your husband."
Chapter 43
An intense silence fell upon the room. The low chanting of inaudible voices from the speaker system filled the void like water flowing downhill. Suddenly the chanting became urgent and the drum beat frenetic.
Crystal lunged toward Roger snatching the cell phone into her chubby hand. Then she hurried up the stairs.
"Yes, Harvey," she said as the door slid shut.
Millie rushed forward to give Roger a hug. I followed close behind.
"Sit down, sit down," said Roger, "and I'll explain everything."
But as we settled into our chairs, the door on the far side of the reception area swung open. In lumbered Crystal. She waved her arms and Roger fell quiet. The silence was so intense her hoarse breathing sounded like a wasp about to sting.
In a dramatic flourish she raised her palms outward to where the three of us sat. Her lips were moving rapidly, low unintelligible words spewing out like the froth from a shaken-up beer bottle.
I refused to look into her eyes, but Millie and Roger stared back, transfixed as if in some sort of ghostly trance. There was little doubt I was seeing an attempt to use her clairvoyant powers for some evil end.
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br /> For what seemed like an eternity, Crystal stood with her arms outstretched. In an instant that seemed to stretch for minutes but in reality was a matter of seconds, Crystal scrunched up her face and let out a wild shriek. Her eyes, as they had during the foretelling, protruded like golf balls.
Millie let out a terrified scream. Roger toppled over in his chair, and I jumped to my feet, ready to run.
Crystal let out a sigh, shrugged, and ambled toward a chair. "Ollie, please sit down and I'll answer your questions," she said, taking a seat herself.
My legs wobbled, and I collapsed into the wingback chair.
Crystal's eyes narrowed. "It wasn't me," she said in a low whisper. "The cell phone call wasn't for me."
Before anyone could respond, she fished in her pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "Oh my," she said, letting the keys swing back and forth. "Isn't it a wonderful, peaceful day? How calm it is. How calm you feel. How very peaceful. Don't y'all feel sleepy?"
"Yes," mumbled Millie, "very sleepy, yes."
"When I count to three, you will have forgotten all that has passed today." Crystal's tone was as soothing as a mother's voice.
"One, two, three!"
She clapped her hands.
Roger jumped to his feet.
"I'll help you pack," he said in a stern voice.
Chapter 44
The three of us watched as Crystal drove her loaded truck out of the parking lot, turning right onto the main road that led out of town.
"Well, there goes my high school dream," Roger sighed, then added. "High school sweethearts are best left where they belong, in the past."
"That's very wise," I said nodding.
"Goes for college sweethearts too," Millie added, her eyes moist and sad.
Roger placed a hand on each of our shoulders. "There's a lot I want to share with you, but right now I've got a boatload of cleaning up to do. I'll be at the Speaker Circle Monday at lunchtime, and afterward we can meet up for a meal, beer, and a long chat."
One final smile and he turned back toward his apartment. There was a lightness in his step, a renewed energy in his stride. Millie and I watched him as he disappeared into the building.