Buried Under Clutter (Tina Tales Mysteries Book 2)

by Jan Christensen

  “And it appears she was.” Laura sighed and leaned back in her chair. “I wonder if she put this Evelyn in her will.”

  “Even if she didn’t,” Tina said, “she was giving Evelyn money. Thousands of dollars at a time. I saw two or three checks made out to an Evelyn Simpson in her desk. I figured it was for something she bought since she was buying other things that cost as much. I thought Evelyn Simpson might be an exclusive furniture store or boutique. Uncle Bob, did you try to talk to Mrs. Blackwell about this woman?”

  Uncle Bob nodded. “Yes, and that was the last time I saw her. She didn’t want to hear it and said she didn’t ever want to see me again.”

  “That’s not surprising,” Tina said. “Once this type of con gets started, the victim doesn’t recognize herself as a victim, even when all her money is gone. What else did she tell you about Evelyn?”

  “Only that once Evelyn brought her boyfriend along to introduce them. Evelyn told Olivia they wanted to get married, but didn’t have enough money to have a nice wedding. When Olivia told me she’d given them a check, I said I thought she was a fool.”

  “Smart.” Laura shook her head, laughing.

  “Yeah. Actually, I said she was a foolish old lady. Before I could say anything else, she told me she never wanted to see me again and slammed the door in my face.”

  Tina shifted on the couch. “Why didn’t you tell the police about this?”

  Uncle Bob shook his head. “Never volunteer information to the police. You never know what they’ll do with it. I don’t particularly want them to know I was talking to Olivia lately. I need to remain the innocuous old deaf man. Wouldn’t, couldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “But,” Laura protested, “these two people could be suspects.”

  “Yes. But I’m sure the police will find that out on their own.”

  “What if they don’t?”

  “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

  Tina grinned. “But you’ve never come to a bridge you wanted to cross.”

  “And this is no exception.” Uncle Bob stood up and so did Princess. “Enough excitement for one day for this old man. Enough excitement for the year. I’m going to bed.”

  The doorbell rang, the light on the table flashed, and Princess bumped Uncle Bob’s leg.

  Everyone walked to the front of the house. Uncle Bob looked through the window. “It’s the police again. What do they want now?”

  He opened the door, and Lisbeth and John entered the house, looking at Laura. “Laura Shaw, we’re arresting you for the murder of Olivia Blackwell. You have the right to remain silent…”

  CHAPTER 20

  The sound of Lisbeth’s voice faded as Tina felt the blood rush from her head to what felt like the pit of her stomach. She took a huge gulp of air and heard Lisbeth say something about Laura getting her wallet and a coat.

  Laura’s face slackened and paled in shock. She didn’t say a word, just went to the kitchen to get her wallet, Lisbeth following. Back in the front hall, Laura took her wool coat from the closet and put it on.

  Tina and Uncle Bob stood in shocked silence as they watched John cuff Laura’s hands behind her back and took her elbow to march her out of the house and into the waiting squad car. Tina hugged Uncle Bob fiercely.

  “Call Brandon,” Uncle Bob said.

  Tina pulled away and rushed into the living room to grab her cell. Uncle Bob followed her and collapsed into his usual chair.

  When Brandon answered, Tina told him what happened. He said he’d go down to the station right away and call her when he knew anything.

  “I won’t be able to sleep,” she said, “until I hear from you, no matter what time.”

  After they hung up, she speed dialed Hank. He answered on the third ring.

  “Red, what’s up?”

  “They’ve arrested my mother.” Tears welled in her eyes, and her voice caught in her throat. In her mind’s eye, she could see Hank straighten up and lean forward.

  “What are the charges?”

  “M … murder.”

  “You called Brandon?”

  “He’s on his way to the station.”

  “Good girl.” His voice warmed her. He was the only one who could get away with calling her a girl. She couldn’t remember a time when Brandon complimented her. She pushed those thoughts aside. She needed to focus on what was happening with her mother and forget her feelings about Hank and Brandon. She needed help from both of them.

  “Can you do anything?”

  “I’ll be right over. I want to know what went down when the police were there earlier, and everything you know about the whole matter.”

  Tina gave a shaky laugh. “I know a lot more than I want to, but of course, have no idea who the real murderer could be. We’ll be waiting for you.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  She watched for him through the front window, and when he drove up, she opened the door, hardly noticing the cold air sweeping over her. The wind had picked up, as it did in Newport in winter, and she stood shivering, waiting for him to bound up the front steps and pull her into his arms. After a quick hug, they walked into the living room, Hank’s arm around her. Hank greeted Uncle Bob and patted Princess, took off his leather bomber jacket, then sat down in the chair Laura had so recently occupied. He knew Uncle Bob could read his lips easier that way.

  Tina and her uncle alternated telling Hank all they knew. He sat so still that Tina noticed it and wondered how he could do that. He only asked for a couple of clarifications, and when they finished, he relaxed a little.

  “First of all,” Hank said after a brief silence, “the police have to know something more than they told you about Olivia’s murder. Next, they have to have tied something together between Olivia and your mother. I think they believe your mother attacked Rebecca when she was in Quincy. Motives for either action could be unknown at this point. The police don’t need motives to accuse someone of a crime. They just need evidence. I can’t speculate on what kind of evidence they have.”

  “Preposterous,” Uncle Bob said.

  Tina agreed. “But you’ll find out, right?” She told herself to stay strong. They needed to figure this out, and if she fell apart, she couldn’t help.

  “Yes. I’ll find out.”

  Tina sighed with relief. Hank had never before come so close to indicating he had ties with the police. “What can we do?”

  Hank looked alarmed. “Nothing. Stay out of it, Tina. I mean it.” He stood up and glared at her, shrugging on his jacket.

  Tina jumped up and put her hands on her hips. “My mother is in jail, and you want me to stay out of it? I’m already involved. So is Uncle Bob. You expect us to sit here and twiddle our thumbs?”

  Uncle Bob got to his feet and put his hand on Tina’s arm. “If we’re going to poke around, we have to do it carefully. That’s all.”

  Hank ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. “That’s not all. But it’s better than you two blundering around letting everyone know you’re trying to figure out who murdered Olivia Blackwell.”

  “I do not blunder around, Hank.” Tina turned and walked to the hall. “Thank you so much for coming,” she said over her shoulder as she opened the front door.

  Hank steamed past her and left without another word. Tina forced herself not to slam the door. She turned to Uncle Bob. “That went well. You men! We’ve got to do something.”

  “What would you suggest?”

  Tina suddenly realized how tired her uncle looked. It had been a long day, and he was an old man.

  “I think you need to rest,” she said gently. “At least go lie down for a while. I’m too wound up to sleep. I’m going to check out Evelyn Simpson on-line. Seems like the most likely place to start.”

  Uncle Bob pecked her on the cheek. “Sounds like a good plan to me. But you need your rest, too. If your mother or Brandon get in touch, let me know. I doubt I’ll be able to sleep, either, until I hear something.”

  “
All right. Off you go.” Tina watched Uncle Bob and Princess climb slowly up the front staircase then walked into the office to get on-line.

  At her computer, she did a Google search and found over nine million hits when she typed in Evelyn Simpson’s name. Many were for males—she’d forgotten Evelyn could be a man’s name. At least she could rule them out. She decided to refine her search to just Rhode Island. That was better, just under two thousand hits.

  Then she almost heard the light switch for the bulb in her head go off. She bet her mother kept the bottle of cleaner Evelyn left behind. It probably had an unusual label of a product line she’d never heard of. She went to the kitchen, opened the cabinet door under the sink, and rummaged around.

  Near the front she found a yellow spray bottle labeled Sunshine Cleanser. She’d never seen the bottle before. She looked at every other container and didn’t find anything else she was unfamiliar with, so she took it to the office. She checked to see if it had a “Manufactured By” notice on the label. The Sunshine Co., Lowell, Massachusetts. Thinking that would make it easier, she Googled it.

  Bingo. It looked like a legitimate company. There was a section on the website that explained how someone could become a sales advisor. She wrote down the phone number.

  After doing a few neck stretches, Tina Googled Evelyn’s name and “Sunshine Cleanser.” Bingo again. She was on a winning streak. Evelyn had her own website. It claimed she was one of the top sales advisors for Sunshine Cleanser, and gave a post office box address in Newport and an email address. No phone number.

  Tina frowned at the screen. It couldn’t be as easy as to look Evelyn Simpson up in the phone book, could it? She went to the kitchen desk area and pulled the book out of a drawer. No Simpsons at all. No, it couldn’t be that easy.

  She walked back to the office and stood looking out the window across the driveway to Olivia Blackwell’s house. No lights on, of course. Nothing moved. Even the wind had died down, so the trees remained motionless. Tina realized she was holding her breath and let it out. She turned to sit down again when something caught her eye. She stared at the spot and saw it again. A flash of light, moving inside the house. A flashlight, she was sure. She stared at it as if hypnotized for a while, then dashed to the hall to get her quilted, calf-length coat from the closet. She even remembered to grab her cell off the desk.

  Who could that be over there in the dead of night, using a flashlight instead of turning on the lights?

  CHAPTER 21

  Calm down, Tina told herself as she walked toward the back of Olivia Blackwell’s house, her cell phone clutched in her hand. She wouldn’t be foolish enough to confront whoever it was. She’d just hide and watch them leave. Surely they’d come out the back door.

  Breathless, she found a tall bush to stand behind and pushed nine-one into her cell phone. She debated calling the police right away, but she was afraid they’d come with sirens blaring and make whoever it was in the house run away. Then she wouldn’t get a good look at the person, so she decided to wait.

  When she looked up at the second story, she didn’t see the light again. Had the person left already, or were they at the front of the house now? How long should she wait? She looked at the time on her phone. Three a.m. She’d give it twenty minutes.

  Her neck was stiff and feet freezing before she saw the light about ten minutes later. Then it was gone. It appeared again downstairs, heading toward the back door. The door opened, and a figure stepped outside. It turned and apparently locked the door, then walked down the three stairs into the back yard. Tina held her breath. When she saw the person jogging toward her, she gasped. Had he seen her?

  Her cell phone rang. The figure rushed forward and knocked her down. She screamed, and the body landed on top of her, taking her breath away. A leather-gloved hand covered her mouth. She gagged. Her hand spasmed on the cell phone, and a flash from the camera made them both freeze. Then, as quickly as he’d pounced on her, he jumped up and ran away. She watched him go, gasping for breath.

  Someone was saying hello on her cell. She sat up and put the phone to her ear. The voice was becoming more and more agitated, but she finally recognized it. Brandon.

  “Tina? Tina? Answer me. Are you all right?”

  “I’m okay, Brandon. Give me a minute, will you?”

  “What happened? Talk to me.”

  She didn’t want to talk to him. He’d be furious. But she needed to find out what was going on with her mother. “I slipped and fell down. Came outside for some fresh air.”

  “You need to be more careful. It’s not a smart idea to be out so late. Especially when someone was murdered right next door.”

  Tell me about it. Tina frowned, rubbed her forehead. She was getting a headache. Had she hit her head on the ground when the man had pushed her down? Probably. She couldn’t remember. She stood on wobbly legs and began to trudge home.

  “Well, I’m going in now. Tell me about my mother.”

  “They questioned her, but I told her not to say anything. After a while, they gave up.”

  “So, you’re bringing her home?”

  Brandon remained silent, and Tina’s heart sank. She reached her own back door and let herself into the heat of her home. The warmth didn’t comfort her. Wearily, she walked down the hall to the closet, shrugged off her coat, and hung it up. She made it to the living room couch and collapsed onto it.

  “Brandon? Say something.”

  “They’re keeping her. They won’t tell me what evidence they have yet. She’ll go before a judge tomorrow, and hopefully he’ll set bail and she can come home then.”

  Tina closed her eyes. She could picture her mother in a jail cell, all alone. Was she discouraged or defiant? Surely they’d let her out tomorrow.

  “You want me to come by?” Brandon’s voice was full of hope.

  “No. No. I need to get to bed. Nothing more we can do tonight, I guess.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right? Nothing broken from the fall?”

  “I’m fine. I can walk, and everything seems to be working okay.” She could still feel the pressure of the man’s hand on her lips. She realized it had been a man. Someone around her height.

  After they hung up, she found the picture in her phone of a shadowy figure. He wore a brown skull cap with some kind of logo on it pulled down low. A beard obscured most of the rest of his face, and she couldn’t even tell what color his eyes were. Stupid of her to leave her cell phone on ringer when she was hiding behind a bush, for heaven’s sake, and it didn’t seem that the picture would be of any help. She was lucky she hadn’t been murdered. Which raised the question, why hadn’t she been if the person who ran into her was the killer? And who was that man?

  CHAPTER 22

  When Tina came down the back stairs late the next morning, she was astonished to see Laura sitting at the breakfast table, drinking a cup of coffee.

  “You’re home!” She bent down and hugged her mother, then sat down next to her. Uncle Bob sat opposite Laura, and Brandon across from Tina. As she poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table, she said, “Tell me what happened.”

  Laura stared at her. “First tell me what happened to you. What’s that scratch on your forehead?”

  Tina sighed. She’d tried to cover it with makeup, but it hadn’t helped much. She didn’t remember how it happened and was as surprised as her mother was now when she looked in the mirror the night before and discovered it. Must have been from the bush.

  By the time she’d finished telling them what happened, all three of them were looking at her with shocked faces.

  “You didn’t tell me why you fell down,” Brandon said, looking upset. “And you didn’t call the police?”

  “Are you hurt anywhere else?” Uncle Bob asked at the same time.

  “What were you thinking?” Laura demanded.

  Tina looked at her mother. “I was thinking of you in jail.”

  Her mother’s face crumpled. Tina was afraid for a mom
ent that she was going to cry. Laura took a deep breath, let it out, and took Tina’s hand, eyes dry. “Okay. Anything else hurt? And, did you call the police?”

  “Nothing else hurt but my dignity. And no, I didn’t call the police.”

  Brandon frowned. “Why not?”

  “I couldn’t stand to see them again last night. I’ll call them now.”

  Brandon drummed his fingers on the table. “You should have told me right away. And since you waited so long to notify the police, they may not believe you.”

  “What?” Tina yanked her cell phone out of her pocket and held it tightly, waiting for Brandon’s answer.

  “They might say you made it up to help your mother.”

  Tina touched the scratch on her forehead. Then she went through the cell phone menu to find the picture.

  “What are you doing?” Brandon’s tone dripped with impatience.

  “Looking for a picture. The flash went off when I was knocked down. It shows the person’s face.”

  “I don’t believe this,” Brandon said. “And you didn’t call the police right away.”

  “I was rattled, okay?” Tina glared at him. “Here it is.”

  “Let me see.” Brandon held out his hand. He studied the picture. “Well, it’s something. Can’t see much of the face with the cap and beard. Wore gloves.”

  Everyone looked at the picture. Uncle Bob handed the phone back to her, and she called Lisbeth’s number. She wasn’t in, and the call was routed to John Smith. Tina made a face and waited for him to answer.

  “Ms. Shaw. What can I do for you?” He sounded totally disinterested.

  For a moment, Tina didn’t know what to say, how to explain what had happened. Then she started telling him about seeing the light moving around inside Olivia Blackwell’s house and her encounter with the intruder. She told John everything she could remember. He said he and Lisbeth would be out later so she could show them where it happened and to check inside.