A Murder State of Mind Boxed Set

by Jude Pittman

  The pool area filled most of the backyard and here too, a high cedar fence afforded maximum privacy.

  Kelly smiled his thanks to the maid and stepped onto the broad walkway that led around a wide gazebo and beyond to the fence surrounding the pool.

  The maid, evidently having made up her mind to let him try his luck with her mistress, returned to the house.

  Kelly walked slowly, turning his approach to Lorena over in his mind. As he neared the fence, his ears picked up a high moan. He stopped and listened. It sounded almost like a cat in heat but not quite. He listened and it came again, a high-pitched, keening sound. Nope. It definitely wasn’t animal. He hesitated, uncertain what to expect but somebody could be in trouble. He’d look and if he was wrong, he’d leave.

  He reached the fence, grasped the top board with both hands, stretched himself and peered over the top. Two women lay together, naked, on bare cedar boards. The one facing him, a brunette, middle-aged with long legs and tight well-tended skin, fit the description he’d been given of Lorena. Another woman, younger, tawny and bronzed from the sun crouched over Lorena, her hair covering her face like a golden veil as her lips explored Lorena’s breasts.

  “Holy shit!” Kelly gripped his tongue between his teeth to keep from speaking out loud. He was intruding all right. Backing away, he shifted his weight and the boards creaked. The brunette’s eyes sprung open and her hot brown pupils flashed across his face.

  Kelly dropped to his heels, turned and walked away. He’d screwed that. It looked like there was nothing to do but go on back to the house and wait for the fireworks. He could get the hell out of here but if he did, he’d probably never get near her again. Might as well wait it out and see what happened.

  There were several chairs grouped around a patio table. He slid one out, lowered himself into the seat and deliberately turned his head away from the pool. Minutes crept past and Kelly fastened his attention on a family of ants, admiring their cooperation, as they teamed up to work a heavy grub through a crack in the cement.

  “You wanted to see me.” A crisp, haughty voice brought him up short and turned him around.

  “I’m Kelly McWinter.” He got to his feet and offered his hand. She took it in a cool, short clasp.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. McWinter?”

  He smiled. “Kelly, please.”

  “Very well, Kelly. Now, what brings you into my backyard?”

  Kelly winced. “Your maid suggested I might catch you out here. I’m a private detective. I’d like to ask you a few questions about your husband.” He searched her face and she met his eyes and held them. He admired her. She must have had one hell of a shock but she hadn’t let it shake her. “I’m with the American Mutual Insurance Exchange.” He handed her one of his cards.

  “I see.” She wrinkled her forehead and studied the card. “Why don’t we go inside?”

  He nodded and followed. Her leather sandals clicked against the hardwood floor as she led him down the hall and stopped to open a door. A quick glance told him it was the library. Every wall was lined with shelves and every shelf was crowded with books.

  “You must read a lot.” He followed the wave of her hand and lowered himself into a black leather chair.

  “I collect first editions.” She moved in behind a large desk and settled herself across from him.

  “Now, what’s this about insurance?” She held out Kelly’s card. “I handle all our personal business and I know all the insurance companies Alex dealt with. This isn’t one of them.”

  She leaned forward on the desk, the lines in her face rigid, her emotions unreadable and waited for his answer.

  Kelly met her glance, paused, assessed her hidden thoughts and surrendered. There wasn’t any use stringing her. She’d seen right through the AMIE ploy. It was time for the truth.

  “I represent a young woman named Marcy Benson. She was a friend of your husband’s.”

  Her eyes flashed. “Isn’t she the girl the police are holding?”

  Kelly nodded. “They’re questioning her but I’ll tell you something. I’ve got ten years’ worth of experience behind me that says she’s innocent and I’m not exactly a novice when it comes to dealing with murderers.”

  “I understand she’s a very attractive girl,” Lorena said. Her look was pointed, leaving her implication hanging in the air.

  “Marcy is the niece of a good friend of mine.” Kelly met her eyes and held them until she looked away. “The reason I’m here is to find out if you’re interested in knowing who really killed your husband, or if you’d prefer to see an innocent girl railroaded.”

  “If she’s innocent, surely the police are the ones to make that determination.”

  “Maybe but I’ve got a hunch the police are looking in the wrong place.”

  “Meaning you think someone here had something to do with Alex’s death?”

  Kelly nodded. “I’ve heard rumors about Alex’s business dealings, for one thing and then there’s the question of your own relationship with your husband. Let’s just say that it’s not exactly typical.”

  “I don’t like your innuendo, Mr. McWinter. Am I supposed to take that as a threat?”

  “No. It is not a threat. It’s an honest evaluation of what I see as a very complex situation.” Kelly got up from the chair and walked toward the door. “I’m not interested in your personal life, or your relations with your husband, except where they affect my client and I’m not in the habit of blabbing personal secrets.”

  Kelly opened the door then turned back to Lorena. “I’m going to find out everything there is to know about Alex Wyatt,” he said. “My telephone number is on that card if you want to get in touch.”

  * * *

  “Anybody home?” Gillian kicked the door with her boot and leaned against the porch rail.

  “My God, girl, what have you got there?” Kelly pulled open the door and reached for the sacks she held clutched against her chest.

  “You did say the whole weekend.” She grinned. “I checked your cupboards the last time I was here and I kind of figured a few extra supplies might come in handy.”

  Kelly laughed. “I’ll put this stuff in the kitchen, then I can give you a proper welcome.”

  “Most of it goes in the fridge.” She trotted along behind him, her blonde hair dancing around her shoulders and a happy smile lighting her face.

  Kelly set the bags on the counter and reached for her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and nuzzled her face against his chest.

  “I’ve missed you,” he murmured against her hair.

  “Me too.” She lifted her head and he bent to claim her lips in a long kiss.

  Later, with the groceries stowed away, greetings to both dogs attended to and a cup of coffee in her hand, she smiled across the table at Kelly. “So, can you bring me up to date on the little gal down in Nashville? I’ve been worried about her.”

  “Marcy’s fine, so far.” He furrowed his brow. “I’m worried, though. There’s a lot of stuff piled up against her. I’m convinced some of the bodies are buried over in Dallas but I can’t get close enough to dig out any of the answers.”

  “Can’t your friend on the Dallas police force help you?”

  “I don’t know. Technically speaking, this won’t have anything to do with Dallas. Unless of course, the Nashville PD asks for assistance, which is unlikely at this point since they’re concentrating on Marcy. I’ll probably give Jim a call later but I want to wait a bit and see if another hook I threw out gets me anything. But that’s enough business. Let’s talk about you for a while.”

  Gillian smiled. “Secrets huh? Okay, I won’t push. As for me, there’s nothing exciting. I bought another mare at the auction last week. She’s a bit long in the tooth but she’s a gentle, old gal and she’ll be great with the smaller kids.”

  “How did you get started with the riding stable?”

  “It was a family business. Dad loved horses and Mom tolerated them. He retired from the a
ir force after twenty years, took his savings and started the stable. Mom died while I was still in my teens, so there was just Dad and me. I grew up on horses, so to speak and when he died, I never even considered giving up the stable.”

  “It must have been tough for you all on your own.”

  “It was, at least for the first couple of years. Dad had his military pension but that ended when he died and for a while there, I didn’t know how I was going to make ends meet. I lucked out though, when they built up Lake Country Estates. A lot of young families moved in and you know how it is with kids and horses. I started out giving a few lessons and now I’m so booked I’ve had to hire two of my former students to help with the work.”

  The phone rang, interrupting their chat. Kelly gave Gillian a rueful grin and slid out of his chair.

  She giggled. “I think I’ve given you a complex about the telephone.” He shook his head and picked up the receiver. “Kelly McWinter here.”

  “Kelly! It’s Mark. I’ve got some bad news.”

  “About Marcy?”

  “‘Fraid so. The DA’s charged her with first-degree murder.”

  “What the hell happened? Did they get something else?”

  “Some old woman came in, said she’d been fighting her conscience ever since the murder. It finally got too much for her and she decided to give a statement. She was in the restaurant the night of the murder and she just happened to be passing the table when Marcy and Alex were having their fight. According to her story, Marcy threatened to kill Alex right there in the bar that night.”

  “Shit. Is there any chance she’s making it up?”

  “No way. I went down and had a talk with Marcy as soon as I heard about the old woman giving a statement and Marcy admitted making the threat. Of course, she didn’t mean it. It was one of those stupid things people say when they’re unbearably hurt. Unfortunately, the old woman overheard her. I think the cops were ready to charge Marcy anyhow but the old woman’s story was the clincher as far as the DA was concerned.

  “Their forty-eight hours were up yesterday afternoon and they either had to lay a charge or let her go. I got the call at noon that they’d decided to go ahead and charge her. I’d have called you last night but I was in the middle of another mess—nothing to do with Marcy — and it was too late by the time I got home.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Mark. Have you had any luck with the clerk at the 7- Eleven store?”

  “That’s the one bright spot. She remembers Marcy saying that she was heading for Houston. The reason she remembered was because she wondered about such a young girl starting off on a long trip so late at night and alone.”

  “Did the cops take her statement?”

  “Oh, they took it all right but their version is that Marcy went to the 7-Eleven right after she committed the murder. They figure she deliberately chatted about her trip to Houston so the clerk would remember her when it came time to give herself an alibi, then she went back to her apartment, loaded up her stuff and headed out of town.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “Sure, it’s possible. We haven’t been able to find anybody who saw Marcy around the apartment that night. She says the bus got her home about twelve-thirty and she stayed inside until after two when she headed for Houston. The problem is, there’s no way in hell to prove whether she did or she didn’t.”

  “How about her telephone call to Stella?”

  “I’ve already requested copies of Marcy’s telephone bill but it probably won’t help. Marcy can’t remember exactly what time she called Stella but she figures it was around one-thirty. The 7-Eleven attendant remembers Marcy came in right after the bread man, so that would make it shortly after two, which jives with the phone call. The problem is, it’s only a ten-minute drive from the 7-Eleven to Marcy’s apartment.

  “The way the cops figure it, she either stopped at the 7-Eleven, chatted up the girl and then raced to the apartment and made the phone call, or she went to the apartment first, called her aunt, then hit the 7-Eleven to set up her alibi.”

  “What about Winn Gordon? Any luck there?”

  “I’ve talked to him and so have the cops and if we believe Marcy’s story, then Gordon’s a damn liar. According to him, he went to the men’s room then stepped outside for a bit of air. While he was out there, he saw Marcy come running out the door. To use his words, ‘she was raving like a hysterical lunatic.’ That’s it. He denies speaking to Marcy, let alone putting his arm around her. He says he went back inside the restaurant before Marcy left and his wife backs him up. She claims he was only gone from the table for about ten minutes.

  “Of course, we know that’s a lie. We have Marcy’s story that Gordon was standing on the step when she took off down the road but who the hell’s going to believe us? The maître d’ claims he doesn’t remember seeing Gordon leave the restaurant or return. But then, he would say that. Gordon’s a regular customer and there’s no way any of the staff are going to go out on a limb like that if they can help it.”

  “You’re not exactly the bearer of good tidings tonight, are you? Did you have any luck with Mike Langley?”

  “I found out he and Alex did have a buyout agreement. Langley gets to purchase Lorena’s stock at market price but from what my sources tell me, the recording outfit is in debt up to their ears. Not exactly a motive for murder. How about you? Have you stumbled on anything that might help?”

  “I don’t know, Mark. I’m working on something but I don’t want to raise your hopes. Why don’t you give me a day or two? If it pans out, I’ll be in touch the minute I’ve got something to throw on the plate.”

  “Sounds good, Kelly. Anything and I do mean anything, would be welcome news right about now. You’ll pass this on to Stella, will you?”

  “Yeah. I hate to. I know she’s going to take it hard but she’ll have to know and it’s best to get her prepared for Marcy’s trial.”

  Kelly walked back to the table with his face set in a deep frown. “Bad news?” Gillian asked.

  “The worst.” He shook his head and slid back into the chair. “Marcy’s been charged with first-degree murder.”

  “Oh, Kelly, I am sorry.”

  “It’s going to be tough on Stella. I’ll have to go up to the Hideaway and tell her. Do you want to come along, or would you rather wait here?”

  “I’ll come. I’m a stranger, so I don’t know how much support I can give her but it might help to have another woman along.”

  Kelly reached across the table and took her hand. “I’d better explain about Stella.” He gave her a wry smile and Gillian, a quizzical look on her face, waited.

  “This is awkward. First, Stella and I do not have anything going with each other. I think I told you that we’re just good friends. That’s true. We’ve had a couple of dates, just friendship type things but Stella’s got a way about her and I’m a bit worried you might misunderstand.”

  Gillian laughed. Her eyes sparkled with merriment and she reached out and pulled him toward her, catching his lips in a teasing kiss.

  “Men!” She shook her head. “What you mean is that Stella’s got the hots for you and you’re not quite sure how she’s going to react to the competition.”

  Kelly ran his hand through his hair. “Sort of.” His lips twisted in an awkward smile and a red flush started up his neck.

  “Okay.” Her voice cracked with laughter. “You’ve warned me. I won’t expect to be welcomed like a long lost sister and I promise to keep my claws sheathed.”

  They walked up to the Hideaway, hand in hand, with Jake and Lucy playing tag around their feet.

  An autumn chill was in the air and the front door was closed. Kelly pulled it open and Gillian stepped inside.

  * * *

  Stella, behind the bar stacking glasses, looked up and narrowed her eyes. She’d spotted Kelly’s hand on Gillian’s shoulder and the look on her face did not bode well for friendship.

  Kelly sighed and Gillian reached for his
hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  “Hi, Stella.” He lowered himself onto a stool and helped Gillian onto hers. “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.”

  Stella glared at him. She hadn’t spoken since they walked in the bar. She turned her head, let her eyes deliberately wander over Gillian and come to rest on her hair.

  She nodded, a brief tilt of her head.

  “I see your preference is still showing,” she said, turning back to Kelly.

  Kelly grinned. “Don’t mind Stella.” He turned to Gillian. “She gets a bad case of hoof and mouth disease every once in a while.”

  Stella turned back to Gillian. “Hi,” she said and a brief smile flickered across her face. “I guess they don’t call us redheads, green-eyed monsters for nothing. Kelly here always seems to go for the blondes.”

  Gillian widened her eyes, lifted them, gave Stella a direct stare and said, “I can give you the name of my hairdresser.”

  “Touché!” Stella threw back her head and whooped. “Damn, Kelly, I’ve gotta admit, you can pick ’em.”

  “What’ll you have?” She leaned forward, her face blooming in a full smile.

  “A couple of drafts will be fine,” Kelly said, relief evident in his voice. “How come it’s so quiet around here?”

  “Everybody’s gone down to the bait house. Frank got a call that a whole troop of Cub Scouts from over in Arlington were coming down on an outing and they’ve asked him to get the boat out.”

  Kelly chuckled. “Say no more.” He turned to Gillian. “It’s kind of an inside joke around here. Frank’s a bit of an ass and he pulled a fast one last year, back when all that stuff happened with old Anna. It’s a long story but the gist of it is Frank got caught with his fingers in the cookie jar. He probably should’ve gone to jail but a couple of us got together and worked out a compromise. We gave Frank a free ticket but it had a price tag. Whenever the Scouts want to go out on the lake, Frank’s their chaperone.”

  “Sounds like some creative discipline.”