Secrets for Sale

by Jerri Kay Lincoln

  As I stood by the shopping carts pondering on whether I wanted to just go see Brent Lindsay or if I wanted to pretend I was shopping and “accidentally” run into him, someone tapped me on the shoulder. Looking up, it surprised me to see Elizabeth Conroy standing in front of me.

  “Hello, Lorry.”

  “Hello, Elizabeth.” I was about to ask what she was doing there until I realized that would be redundant. “How are you?” That was innocent enough.

  “Fine, thank you.”

  “Um, I’m fine, too,” I stammered. “Where were you when that guy was killed?”

  She laughed. “You get right to the point, don’t you? I was reading the bulletins at the front of the building.”

  “So who do you think did it? Are you one of the not-so-silent majority who thinks Martha did it?”

  Elizabeth was tall and thin, her dark hair starting to gray, and she was taller than me. Looking pensive, she nodded her head. “Lorry, I like to think of myself as independent, not part of any majority, but,” she shrugged her shoulders, “sometimes the majority is right. Are they in this case? I don’t know.”

  “You’ve known Martha a long time, Elizabeth. Do you honestly think she’s capable of such a thing? And the whole rumor that she did it to save my job is ridiculous, don’t you think, considering I could buy the whole town if I wanted to.”

  “Lorry, sometimes what’s good for the majority is often the right thing to do, even if it’s not the nice thing to do.”

  “You mean it might be more expedient to blame Martha whether she did it or not?”

  “That’s not exactly what I said, Lorry.”

  Although I had been out of high school for fifteen years, this woman still made me feel like I was back there. She had the kind of authoritarian bearing that demanded respect. So I waited for her to continue.

  “You think Martha didn’t have a motive, don’t you? But she didn’t want that sale to go through any more than you do, and I don’t think it had anything to do with you. So keeping that in mind, can you be certain Martha didn’t do it?” Elizabeth asked, tilting her head toward me like Bingo sometimes did.

  As I was about to open my mouth and say how certain I was of Martha’s innocence, I began to wonder. Martha didn’t want the sale to go through and it had nothing to do with me? That was news. Did she have a motive? Somewhere in all that wondering, my mouth must have opened, because now I closed it without saying a word.

  “See?” she said. “Billy hasn’t declared anyone innocent, yet, right Lorry? The murderer could be any one of us. Including Martha.”

  I didn’t like where the conversation had taken us, so I straightened up and spoke up. I was an adult now, and she was no longer my principal. “Then that includes you, too, Elizabeth, right?”

  She smiled at me as she walked away. “Yes, Lorry, that includes me.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  BY THIS TIME, I didn’t have time to visit with Brent Lindsay, so I hurried back to the office to find Bingo curled up in my office chair. “How did he get up here?” I asked Petra.

  “He kept whining for you, so I lifted him up, and he settled right down.”

  “My baby missed me.” I picked him up and hugged him.

  “Oh, please. Spare me the hyperbole. Latin, early fifteenth century. Obvious exaggeration in rhetoric.”

  I stomped into her office with my hands on my hips. “If he didn’t miss me, then why was he crying?” I demanded.

  “How should I know? Maybe he was hungry, and you left some crumbs on the seat of your chair.”

  At that moment Bingo yipped, so it made it easy for me to ignore Petra’s soft laughter. Turning, I stomped down the hallway with Bingo at my heels. Trudging up the stairs, I sat down in front of the computer, flipped it on, flipped the scanner on, and thought about my morning. How sad that sweet innocent Martha was having to go through this. Although there wasn’t much I could do about it, I hoped Billy could somehow stop the harassment.

  I hadn’t got much scanning done before I heard Aiden at the back door—not that the scanning mattered. If the building sold, all the scanning I had done would be for naught. Aiden ran in. Bingo ran down the stairs to meet him, and after a brief huggy-kissy session, Aiden ran upstairs and threw his arms around me.

  “Mommy! Mommy! I missed you so much!”

  “Not as much as I missed you!” I kissed him on the cheek. “How was school?”

  “Great as usual. I found out about the murder—looked it up on the internet. It was at the council meeting you were at, right? The guy who was going to buy this building.”

  “Yep, yep, and yep,” I said.

  “Tell me more!”

  “You can ask your father when you see him. It’s not my place.”

  Aiden gave me his sad face, but I shook my head. “You have to wait, kiddo.” He stuck his lip out for effect—he had learned that from me, I’m sorry to say—but I shook my head again. “I have good news for you! Daddy is going to take us to see the new house he bought!”

  “Really? A new house?” He stopped, narrowed his eyes, tilted his head, and looked at me. “Why would he buy a house without the rest of his family seeing it first?” Aiden had a righteous sense of propriety. He had probably gotten that from me, too. And I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

  “Yes, I know, I know. But he said it was a rush deal, and he had to do it or lose it. And he said if we didn’t like it, he would sell it, and we would buy something else.”

  “All right,” said Aiden, taking his time between words. Then, already over it, he added, “When’s Daddy coming? At closing time?”

  “No, he said if the interviews went as planned, he might get here early. He mentioned having to work tonight, though.”

  “Do sheriff’s families always have to suffer with their loved one working late?”

  That made me laugh. “Aiden, honey, it would be worse if we lived in a big city. Daddy doesn’t have to work late that often. We should feel grateful for when he’s home with us.”

  Rocky, the cat who lived at the Rutledge Historical Society, jumped down from the high shelf he was on, and rubbed against Aiden’s legs. Aiden petted him, and Bingo sniffed his butt.

  I turned back to the scanning, but didn’t have time to scan even one more document, because I heard Billy come in through the back door. He called out, “Any chance my new bride and my boy are here waiting for me?”

  “Careful going down the stairs, Aiden!”

  My words were too late, because he had already reached the bottom and was in Billy’s arms. I could hear him squeal as Billy swung him around. Bingo barked at his feet.

  “Lor? You ready? I want you both to have enough time to see all the house and grounds. And I have to get back here before too late. Let’s go!”

  Hurrying down the stairs, which wasn’t all that fast because of my three-inch heels, I held on to the handrail. When I arrived at the bottom of the stairs, Billy threw his arms around me, kissing and hugging me. “Let’s go, gorgeous.”

  “Petra, I’m leaving early today. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “You’ve barely been here at all today, so what’s the dif?”

  I ignored her comment and followed Billy, Aiden, and Bingo out the back door. We all climbed into Billy’s truck, none of us knowing where we were going except Billy. Aiden asked. “Daddy? Where are we going?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough, kiddo!” Billy started the truck and pulled out of the alley onto Bridge Street. Then he made an immediate left onto High Street.

  “Did you forget something at the society?” I asked. I knew the house couldn’t be on End Street and or on River Road, which apart from its cool name was a bunch of run down businesses that should have been run out of town a long time ago. Now that I thought about it, though, the only businesses that remained on River Road were a couple of junk yards. The auto parts store had cleaned up and moved to Commercial Street next to the tire store.

  “Nope,” he said.


  I’d always considered that the historical society was at the end of High Street. It wasn’t exactly a dead end, but as close as you could get without really being one. There was an empty lot on the other side of the society, and just past that was what once may have been a corner, but wasn’t any longer. There was a big orange and white traffic barricade across the makeshift intersection. On each side of the barricade was just enough room for a car—or truck—to pass through. On the other side of it, after miles of dirt roads, were a handful of residences, though most of them were ranches. Billy passed through the barricade and continued down the rutted dirt road.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “WHERE ARE WE going, Daddy?” asked Aiden, with a hint of impatience in his voice. “There’s nothing out here but ranches. I thought we were going to see the new house you bought.”

  “Wait and see,” said Billy.

  A couple of miles of rough washboard road later, I read a sign on the right side as we bounced by. It said Private Road. Caution. Travel at your own risk. This surface is not regularly maintained.

  “Billy, are you sure about this?” I asked.

  “No worries, hon. I’ve driven this road in all kinds of weather. We’ll be safe.”

  “Yes, but assuming that Aiden and I like the house, can I drive this road in my Rav4?” My car was almost brand new, and I didn’t want to get a different car. I loved my Rav4.

  “It’s got all-wheel drive, doesn’t it?” asked Billy.

  “Yup.”

  “You’ll be fine. Don’t worry so much.”

  Just then the truck hit a deep hole in the road sending the three of us into the air as far as the seat belts allowed. Bingo, formerly in the back seat with Aiden, ended up in the front seat with Billy and me. “Famous last words, eh, Billy?” This road gave a new meaning to “keeping you at the edge of your seats.” We were there—literally.

  “Sorry. I usually avoid that thing, but was too excited about both of you seeing the house.”

  Several miles and potholes later, with a few ranches in our rearview mirror, Billy turned left onto another dirt road. This road had a high fence to the left of it, and inside the fence was a horse grazing beside a tree-size juniper bush. At least, tree-size by Arizona standards.

  “Are we almost there?” I asked.

  “It’s a ranch, Mom!” said Aiden, who was leaning forward and straining against his seat belt.

  “Is it a ranch, Billy? Is the house you bought—a ranch?”

  He looked at me, smiled, and squeezed my leg. To Aiden, he said, “What do you think, little pard?”

  “I love it, Daddy! I love it!”

  “You haven’t even seen it yet, kiddo,” Billy said.

  “Yeah, but it’s a ranch!” said Aiden. “And it’s got horses!”

  Billy squeezed my leg again. “What do you think, Lor?”

  “Looks cool, but as you say, I haven’t seen it yet.”

  As we approached, I looked over the property and saw more horse enclosures, a large rambling ranch house, a big barn, and some other kind of building. There were no neighbors anywhere around it. In a distant grassy area, on the other side of a fence, I saw some grazing cows.

  “Aiden, look! There are cows over there!” I said.

  “That’s state land leased to ranchers for their cattle. And there is a gate, so we can ride over there,” said Billy.

  “What do the horses think of the cows?” I asked.

  Billy smiled. “Some horses are okay with them, some aren’t. My horse doesn’t mind ‘em at all.”

  “What about my horse, Daddy?”

  “You don’t have a horse yet, little pard!”

  As we pulled under the signpost reminiscent of ranches in the old west, I noticed there were three roads going into the property. The right one went behind the house, the middle one went toward the house, and the left one went in between a big horse enclosure and then another enclosure with a high fence. It looked like it led to the barn.

  Billy took the middle path and pulled up in front of the large double car garage. Most of the house was to the left of it with a small portion to the right. “You ready to see the inside?”

  “Yeah!” said Aiden and was out of the car in a flash.

  I looked around and took my time getting out, wondering if I could call this sprawling place home. Aiden was jumping up and down, and Billy picked him up and swirled him around, so I started walking toward the smaller portion of the house.

  “Not that way, Lor, over here.” He motioned me to follow him and Aiden who was now holding his hand. “That’s the apartment. I’ll show it to you later. Let’s see the house first—see if you like it.

  “Can Bingo come in the house with us?”

  “He’s family, isn’t he? Of course!” Billy passed the first door—that appeared to lead inside the garage—and walked over to a double-doored entry. He used a key to open one of the doors. The three of us stepped inside.

  Despite the late hour, the many windows let plenty of light inside to make it bright. The first thing I noticed besides the abundance of light was straight ahead—a wood-burning stove. It was bigger than the one in our little gambrel house, but it was a welcome sight. It also had one of those transparent fronts so I could watch the flames dance, which was one of my favorite activities on a cold winter’s evening. And yes, there are cold evenings in the winter in Arizona. It sometimes even snowed!

  I followed Billy and Aiden straight ahead into a living room full of gorgeous furniture. “Billy, when are they going to remove their furniture?”

  “They only want one piece that I will have to get movers to pick up and send to them. The rest is ours—you know, if you want it. If not, we can get new furniture.”

  I loved the furniture. It had that lived-in, comfortable look that new furniture didn’t have. New furniture often had that “stay-off-me, I’m new” look. I loved this furniture—the furniture in our new home.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “YOU READY TO see the rest of the house?” Billy asked. When I didn’t say anything, he got a dubious look on his face. “You haven’t seen it all yet. Do you hate it already?”

  “Billy,” I murmured, “I love it!” I threw my arms around him and gave him a big hug.

  Aiden jumped in to join us and said, “I love it, too, Daddy!”

  Billy’s dubious look turned into the purest expression of joy that I had ever seen. “I’m so glad. I’ve loved this place for so long, and when it came up suddenly for sale, I knew I had to snag it. I’m so happy you both love it.” A couple of tears escaped his eyes, but he blinked them away. I hoped that Aiden saw that. Real men can cry. And Billy was a real man.

  “Here, Lor, sit down here. I want you to see something.”

  Sitting on the proffered love seat, I moved my hand along the fabric. “It’s very comfortable. I love the suede.”

  “You ain’t seen nuthin’ yet, sister!” Billy leaned down to the side of the love seat and pushed a button.

  “Oh!” I said when the love seat turned into a recliner on my side of the center console, which still had a remote control in it. “I didn’t expect that! Very cool!”

  Billy lowered the seat back down and helped me up from the spot that I would have liked to have stayed in.

  “Me, too, Daddy! Me, too!” Aiden said.

  “Okay, get in!” Billy waited until Aiden had climbed all the way into the chair on the other side of the console. “Here we go! Take off!”

  “Whee!” said Aiden.

  As I watched the two of them, I marveled at how easy Billy was with Aiden. He was in a hurry—I knew he had to get back to town, and he still took the time to give Aiden a ride without complaining. What a lucky person I was to have a guy like Billy.

  “Okay, come on, kiddo. We have to look at the rest of the house.” He helped Aiden out of the chair and looked at his watch. “And I want you to see the barn, too.”

  As much as I wanted to see our new home, I really wanted to proces
s what I had found out this afternoon. So while Billy walked down the hallway showing off the house to the bouncing Aiden beside him, I settled into the love seat, pushed the button and let it recline all the way back. Aiden was enthusiastic enough for both of us.

  After closing my eyes, I first went over my conversation with Anthony Petrelli. He had gone on and on that Martha did it and saying that the other council members thought she did, too. He also thought everyone had an alibi but her. More importantly, he admitted that her trying to save my job when I didn’t even need a job made no sense to him. That, at least, was something positive.

  Then came my big mistake with “tarts” when Anthony was about to tell me his alibi. What a huge mistake that was. Now how would I find out? There was no way I could return to his car lot. I’d have to check with Kasey to see if he ever came into the Kafe next door to the historical society. That place was a regular social bazaar. Or maybe more rightly put would be social bizarre.

  Keeping my eyes closed and nodding my head at my progress—if you could call it that—I thought about my conversation with Elizabeth Conroy at the Rutledge Super Market. She thought Martha did it, and she even knew that Martha didn’t want the sale to go through and it had nothing to do with me. I wish I could verify that with Martha, but it was a sensitive subject, and I didn’t want to bother her any more than she was already bothered. Elizabeth also said something else of interest. She admitted that she could be the murderer. What was that quote—of Oprah’s, I think—“when someone tells you who they are, believe them.” Had Elizabeth just confessed to me who she was? The murderer?

  Anthony may or may not have an alibi which I “tarted” myself out of, so he would remain on my list, but Elizabeth? She now stood on the top of my list. Murderers don’t always lie. Sometimes they tell the truth. And she said she could be the murderer. That was enough for me.

  Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. Opening my eyes, I looked up to see Billy looking down at me concerned. “Are you okay, Lor? Didn’t you want to see the rest of the house? I thought you liked it?”