Unleashed - The Gordonston Ladies Dog Walking Club Part 2

by Duncan Whitehead

  Enough was enough, there was no more dressing like a tart. She would act her age, there would be no more spending obscene amounts of money on make-up, clothes and ridiculous plastic surgery.

  It had been more trouble than it was ever worth. Did she regret having Tom Hudd killed? Not at all, not one bit. Anyway, it was the past, and her only regret was poor Kelly. She hadn’t hurt anybody, in fact she had been just as much a victim of Tom’s deceit as she had. Carla had hoped that in time she and Kelly could have become friends, that she would join The Gordonston Ladies Dog Walking Club, that maybe she would meet a new man, move on with her life. Sadly, that had not been the case. Kelly’s nervous breakdown had been common knowledge, according to Cindy anyway, who had made it common knowledge. The poor girl had been convinced Tom had left her. Initially Carla had been worried that Kelly had found out about her and Tom’s fling, but it seemed Kelly harbored no such suspicion. It seemed Kelly blamed herself. That poor deluded girl, thought Carla.

  Anyway, Carla had plans, new plans, and it involved rekindling an old romance. Gino had always been there for her; for over 40 years he had carried a torch for her. It had been thanks to him she had been able to exact her revenge against Tom. She now spoke to Gino every day. She was busy planning a vacation to see him in Las Vegas. Who knew where this could lead? Gino was not like the Tom Hudds of this world. There were certainly no decent men in Savannah that was for sure. She sometimes felt sorry for her friend Cindy. Her infatuation with Elliott seemed to be taking over her life, it was as if it was the only thing she actually cared about. Carla obviously hoped the two would eventually marry, at least for Cindy’s sake. She could only imagine what lengths Cindy might go to if anyone ever came between her and Elliott. She doubted though, unlike herself, that she would ever resort to murder. Not sweet old Cindy. There really wasn’t anything that attractive about Elliott anyway, not in Carla’s opinion, in fact, he was quite boring, thought Carla.

  The old man, Stefan, now there was something about him Carla liked, but he was obviously too old for her, and anyway, he seemed smitten with Heidi.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  Billy Malphrus had just finished preparing his latest batch of lemonade. He paused before adding the rat poison. There would be no turning back from this. His plan was simple, he would leave the jug in the refrigerator and sooner or later his Aunt Cindy would pour herself a glass, drink it and drop dead. Then he would inherit her fortune.

  For the past five days he had been making jug after jug of the stuff, he and Cindy had shared each batch of the refreshing beverage. She wouldn’t for one minute think that this latest jug contained poison. His plan was perfect.

  There was one problem, thought Billy, he didn’t want to be around to see his aunt die. Despite his disdain for her, and the fact he was planning her murder, he could not face watching her die. The truth was that he was a coward. The mere thought of watching his aunt gag and choke and then spasm in pain made him shudder. He would have nightmares for months. He could only imagine the look of horror on her face as she begged him to call an ambulance. No. He would try and be out of the house as much as he could from now on. He would make a mental note not to drink any lemonade and just hoped that she drank it, sooner rather than later. He stared at Paddy, who had watched him prepare the toxic and deadly concoction. Billy picked up his leash and waved it in the air.

  “Come on, Paddy, time for a walk.”

  The dog rose, his tail wagging, but Billy scowled at the confused animal, hung the leash back on the coat rack behind the kitchen door, laughed, and left the house.

  * * * * *

  Cindy Mopper was worried. Her finances were worse than she had thought. The money she had spent in her attempt to have Carla killed had almost wiped out her life savings. She was virtually broke. She had met with the bank manager that morning. He had told her that despite her husband’s pension, she would soon have to think about selling her home, and find a smaller place. Not only that, despite yet another day trying to contact the ‘Organization’; it had proven fruitless. She just hoped that Carla would be okay. She was tired. She would head home, maybe have a glass of Billy’s lemonade….

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  Betty Jenkins would not be attending to Heidi today. She was taking her final driving lesson before her test the following day. She had spent the previous day reminding herself of the rules of the road. She had already passed the theory part of the test, and she felt confident she would pass.

  She peered out her window, just as her instructor pulled up in his car.

  * * * * *

  Heidi had spent the day preparing for the inevitable. Soon she would be disgraced. It was only a matter of time before Stefan, or whatever his real name was, would either be exposing her, or worse, executing her. She had gotten her affairs in order, written a letter for her son Stephen, expressing her disappointment in his inability to find someone suitable to kill Elliott Miller. She put some cash in an envelope for Betty Jenkins, along with a letter of reference, and had spent the rest of the day gazing with admiration at her collection of Nazi memorabilia and her collection of books.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  For three days Kelly Hudd had driven all over Savannah searching for Tom. She had visited the gym and no one had seen him. She had visited the fire station; again not a word from him. Maybe Detective Morgan was right, maybe Tom just didn’t want to be found. She had mustered enough courage though to return to Gordonston, and it was here she sat, in her car parked opposite her old home. She fiddled with the house key and bit her nails. It would be simply heartbreaking for her to return to the home. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes and convinced herself to be brave, that sooner or later she would have to once again step inside her house. When she opened her eyes her blood ran cold.

  It was him.

  He was back. That nasty, home wrecking, lying, two faced scumbag con man that was Billy Malphrus. There he was, leaving Cindy’s house. Kelly ducked down as he passed her car on the opposite side of the road, walking on the sidewalk. The rage and hatred within Kelly was ferocious. There was the root of all her problems, the reason Tom had left her, the reason she now weighed over 160 pounds and the reason her life was ruined. Shmitty stared at Kelly, no doubt sensing the latent rage that was emitting from his owner.

  She watched as he headed eastwards. She switched on her car engine and turned her car around. She would follow him, and then, maybe she would confront him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  Betty Jenkins was doing just fine. Her driving instructor had told her she would have no trouble passing her test tomorrow, and this final lesson was going well. Her instructor, though, had a request. Could she possibly stop at the Piggly Wiggly grocery store on Skiddaway Road? He needed to pick up some milk? Betty had no problem with that; in fact, it would be good practice for her, as she often had to pick up groceries for Heidi from the nearest grocery store to Gordonston. It wouldn’t be a problem at all.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  He had no problem finding a taxi cab. There was a line of them outside the arrivals hall. He checked his watch, he hoped he wasn’t too late and that being back in Georgia wasn’t a mistake.

  “Welcome to Savannah,” said the cab driver. “No luggage?” he commented as he entered the rear seat of the cab.

  “No, none, just take me to Gordonston. You know where that is, right?” he asked.

  The driver nodded.

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  Jeff Morgan had spent the whole day reading the old case file regarding the Derepaska murder, and he had gotten nowhere. He was ready to give up. He had gone through every scrap of evidence, including the original investigating officer’s report and all statements. It was a complete waste of time. He was ready to go home, when he suddenly did a double take. It was a list of names. He picked up the piece of paper that had been previously hidden under a pile of other papers and examined it. It was a list of all the attendees at the conference. Not one of
them had been interviewed or spoken to, as when the conference had ended all the attendees had returned to their respective cities or countries. However, one name stared back at him. Was it a coincidence? Could this be the same Doug Partridge whose wife had reported him missing a few days ago, the same Doug Partridge who had run off with his gay lover Tom Hudd? Surely not. But, maybe, just maybe it could be worth visiting Mrs. Partridge in the morning, just to see if there was anything she could add to the investigation.

  He was tired in any case, his long lunch with the Mayor had brought about afternoon fatigue, and though he had work to do, he decided to call it day. It was also that time of the week he took a shower.

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  Elliott Miller no longer opened the anonymous letters he received on a weekly basis. He now recognized the handwriting on the envelope, and every letter he had received just said the same things. ‘I know what you did’ or ‘Thief’ were the usual words which accompanied a tirade of hate-filled and anti-Semitic prose. He now just threw the unopened envelopes straight into the trash.

  He had considered contacting the police, reporting the letters, maybe even, for once and for all, getting to the bottom of it, and discovering who his tormentor was, but that would have meant explaining about the children’s books he had written, and maybe even trying to explain his encounter in Argentina years before, and about how he had plagiarized an old man’s stories. An old man who may or may not have been the most hated and vile man in the history of the planet. The potential publicity and political fallout would be disastrous. He would either become a laughing stock, or worse, lose the trust of the people of Savannah. Who would want a man who had stolen another’s stories as a Mayor? He could do nothing, and after all they were just letters, he doubted that the person behind them had any intention of carrying out the veiled threats.

  As the new Mayor of Savannah, he had more pressing issues than the ramblings of a mad person and book’s, long since forgotten. Number one on his agenda was the crime rate. Elliott wanted Savannah to be a safe place and a destination tourists and visitors could feel secure in. He respected Chief Taylor, and knew that he understood why Elliott wanted the Derepaska case re-opened and re-investigated, or at least the appearance that it was being re-investigated.

  Despite his victory and his position, Elliott Miller was lonely. Though Thelma had been dead for over six months, he was still not used to the empty house, and he yearned for the companionship that a relationship would give him. He had, of course, considered Carla Zipp as a potential girlfriend, but he was relieved he had not pursued her. She was really too much; he felt she looked ridiculous, dressing the way she did, and for a woman at her age to have breast implants? What had she been thinking? While he did respect Cindy Mopper as a friend, a close friend, he simply did not find her attractive, and he could not see her as anything more than a friend, a good friend. Of course Cindy Mopper and Carla Zipp were not the only women in Savannah, there were others who had made advances towards him, but despite their being the same age as Elliott, or maybe a few years younger, he felt he deserved better, and why not? He was the Mayor, he was powerful, and he really could have any woman that he wanted.

  He had arranged to meet Jeff Morgan for lunch at Leocci’s Italian Trattoria, on Drayton Street, located close to the police precinct and his office. Morgan had been on time, and they had taken a seat outside in the courtyard.

  “So, you actually ride that thing?” asked Elliott, as Morgan took his seat, removing his helmet.

  “I love it. It is so economical, and quite fun to ride.”

  Elliott stared at the scooter Morgan had arrived on. He had seen quite a few of them lately, mostly being ridden by students. He was surprised that a detective would be riding one.

  “It’s a Vespa,” said Morgan proudly.

  “What is?”

  “My moped, they are all the rage, much better than driving.”

  Elliott nodded, though he really wasn’t interested in Morgan’s opinion of mopeds, scooters or any other means of transportation.

  The waiter brought over menus, and they both selected Risotto Frutti de Mare, one of Chef Roberto’s favorites, according to the menu. Once the food arrived, Elliott spoke.

  “So, Jeff, I am glad to have you working on the Derepaska case. It means a lot, though I am not sure if you will crack it, the point is that you are doing something, which means we, Savannah, haven’t given up,” said Elliott as he took a spoonful of the delicious creamy risotto.

  “Yes, well,” replied Morgan, as he shoveled food into his mouth, “I have to say that I am not very confident I will solve it. But I fully understand the reasons why the case has been reopened.”

  Elliott smiled, at least Morgan understood the reasoning behind Elliott’s plan.

  “You know I hold you in very high regard. I was most impressed with the way you dealt with Kelly Hudd.”

  Morgan forced another spoonful of food into his mouth, spilling some on his shirt, which he rubbed with a napkin, only increasing and spreading the stain that now appeared on the poorly pressed garment.

  “Oh, I have news for you about that. He definitely left her, either because she was cheating, or,” he paused, “get this, or because he was seeing another man.”

  Elliott looked puzzled. He hadn’t known Tom Hudd was gay, and having two stepsons who were both homosexuals, he could usually tell.

  “Come again?”

  “I think,” Morgan looked around him, in case anyone over heard what he was about to reveal, “I think he ran off with some guy called Doug Partridge. I think they were lovers.” Morgan then explained his theory on the disappearances of Tom Hudd and Doug Partridge to Elliott, who sat opened mouthed in disbelief at was he was hearing.

  Once Morgan had finished speaking, it was Elliott’s turn to talk.

  “Well, that makes perfect sense,” he lied. “I guess then that you are going to call off any search?”

  “Absolutely, it’s a total waste of time.”

  Elliott smiled; this was perfect. “Well, be sure to let Mrs. Hudd know. I mean, the poor girl is still looking for him. Why not let her know that you believe he had another woman, maybe even mention, in your opinion, probably as a result of her indiscretion. I wouldn’t mention Doug Partridge, even though you are probably one hundred percent spot on. I think that would devastate her. Don’t you agree?”

  Morgan pondered for a minute, and did not reply immediately. Elliott spoke again.

  “You know I have my eye on you. I see great things for you, maybe even a promotion. Who knows, you could one day lead the department, and heaven knows it needs a man like you at the helm. You would have my support.”

  “Really?” replied Morgan.

  “Yes, of course, you are dedicated, hardworking and I like you. You do realize that I can pull strings, on your behalf, don’t you?”

  Morgan grinned. This was fantastic news! The Mayor liked him, and the Mayor could pull a few strings for him.

  “In that case, I guess you are probably right. Maybe I will take your advice; let Mrs. Hudd know her husband is never coming back, that he found another woman, not a man. I think I could do that.”

  “Good,” said Elliott. “You know you are my eyes and ears of the department? I think I can trust you. I can trust you, Jeff?”

  “Absolutely,” replied Morgan.

  “Excellent, what do you fancy for dessert?”

  Elliott Miller had a plan. The day Kelly had cried on his shoulders, hugged him and then he assisted her in the search for Tom, he had fallen in love with her. Of course, he had always found her breathtakingly attractive. In fact, Kelly Hudd was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. He had envied Tom Hudd, having such a gorgeous wife. Of course Elliott could only dream of one day having even the remotest chance of ever getting a crack at Kelly. Yes, it was true, she might not be bright, she may not have been what you would describe as intellectual, but many powerful men had young, beautiful wives and girlfriends
. Why shouldn’t he? He was powerful. He was important.

  That day, the day he heard about Tom’s disappearance he had been secretly pleased. Of course, like everyone else in the neighborhood, he was shocked that Tom had left his wife. Why would anyone leave Kelly Hudd? But Elliott had spotted an opportunity, an opportunity where maybe, just maybe, he could try and court Kelly Hudd.

  Of course, it would be inappropriate to immediately contact her. She had eventually moved out of the neighborhood, but sooner or later he would make the call, once Morgan had delivered the bad news. He had already set the ground work, offering her his sympathy, accompanying her to the police station. He had said all the right things and felt that there was a connection now between them. He knew full well that her mental state was presently not at its best. He also knew that, by her own admission, she had no inhibitions when it came to sex. That revelation alone, her admission of adultery, had spurred Elliott. As long as Tom Hudd remained missing, and no proper search was conducted, there was a chance that maybe she would go for him.

  He knew that it would take time to woo Kelly, but he could wait, and the longer Tom stayed missing, the more chances she could divorce the man in absentia, especially if she knew he had another woman. He also knew that her house was in foreclosure, and he had already made enquiries with the lending bank. He was now making her mortgage payments, and the bank had assured him that they would maintain the anonymity he had requested. Sooner or later her parents would surely tire of her moping around their home in Atlanta, sooner or later she would regain her former confidence, though of course not too much, hoped Elliott, and Elliott would be waiting for her when she returned to Savannah; her knight in shining armor….