Florida Heat

by Rainy Kirkland

  “Now wait a minute,” Jo interrupted. “Aggie – excuse me-- Agatha is on probation for battery. She shouldn’t have been at a bar drinking, let alone fleeing the scene of her husband's murder.”

  “She was looking for me,” Karl stated. “She didn’t know that I wouldn’t be coming in that night.”

  “Okay,” Kate interrupted. “Mr. Patterson, Agatha wasn’t arrested as she could have been. We simply kept her overnight so she would be sober enough to answer our questions about her husband. Now, you said you stopped by to see her before you left for your trip. When would that have been?”

  “I think it was the day after Labor Day,” he said. “But I’d have to check my calendar to be sure I did know Christian wouldn’t have school that day, so I thought I’d catch them both at home and ask if she wanted me to bring anything special back from California.”

  “Did you do that often? Bring gifts to another man’s wife?”

  “It isn’t like that,” he snapped. “Agatha is a decent woman so don’t make a simple friendship into something sordid. I often travel with my job and I try to bring something back from the state I was just in for Christian. And yes, sometimes I bring a token for Agatha as well.”

  “Can I ask how you and Agatha met?”

  Karl gave a deep sigh. “Look, she came into the Night Owl Bar one night with Daniel. He deserted her and went to play pool with his drinking friends. I like to stop in now and again to have a beer after work. I live alone but I don’t think it’s healthy to drink alone. Agatha and I started talking. She’s a remarkable woman.”

  “But I take it you didn’t much care for her husband.”

  Karl drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “He was a poor excuse for a man and shouldn’t have been any woman’s husband. It was appalling the way he treated Agatha and that child. And I don’t mind saying I really think she’s better off now that he’s dead.”

  “I see. And when you came and spoke to Mr. Witmore, did you have words?”

  Karl gave her a startled look. “As in an argument? Hardly. But I did think someone with his limited brain capacity could have remembered to deliver a simple message. Obviously, I was wrong.”

  “Mr. Patterson, did you know that Mr. Witmore was into body building?”

  “I’m not blind, Detective,” he said flatly. At Kate’s silence he continued. “The man keeps his weight bench in the living room. You practically trip over it to move around in there. But then Daniel was always self-centered. I don’t think he ever gave a thought about anyone else or their feelings.”

  “Well, it seems that Agatha is very lucky to have you for a friend, Mr. Patterson,” Kate said.

  Karl took another breath. “Do you really believe that the woman in Wyoming is Christian’s natural mother?”

  “It’s really too soon to be sure but.…”

  “But you think it’s more than a possibility or you wouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “I think we need to wait until the tests come back for the answers,” Kate replied.

  “That bastard!” Karl exploded. “He took that baby, didn’t he? It would be just like him to do something that evil. But why? Why would he steal a baby? Do you think he was going to try for a ransom?”

  “I don’t know,” Kate said, thinking of the child pornography on Danny’s computer. “But with Danny not here to answer questions all we have is speculation at this point.”

  “She doesn’t deserve this,” he said. “She just doesn’t deserve this.”

  Kate hesitated then made a decision. “Mr. Patterson, in a few hours the news media is going to be all over this story. You might consider taking Agatha away for the evening or at least stay here with her so she’s not alone when it starts.”

  He gave Kate a questioning look. “I have a beach home she could use for a few days.”

  Kate pulled out her card and gave it to him. “The FBI will need to know where she is, so if you do decide to go somewhere, be sure to let me know. You don’t want them to think Agatha is trying to flee.”

  Karl turned the card over and over in his hand. “I’ll call and leave the address as soon as I can convince her to leave. And Detective, I know when she thinks it through, Agatha will be appreciative for the advanced warning about the press.” And with that he turned and went back into the house.

  Jo took a step closer to Kate. “Did he just admit to what I think he admitted to? Did he just tell you that he was here the morning Danny was killed?”

  Kate nodded and stared at the little house with its overgrown weeds. “I’m glad she has a friend, but I’m going to do a lot more digging into this relationship.” She turned back to Jo. “Just when you think you have all the pieces, the puzzle changes.”

  Jo gave herself a shake. “Are we still on for dinner?”

  Kate smiled. “Yes, Isaac and Nola are meeting us at AL'S Landing and I’ve invited Agent Lincoln to join us.”

  “You asked the FBI to dinner?”

  “Wait till you see him,” Kate chuckled. “You’ll understand why.”

  Jo just shook her head and turned back toward her car. “You never cease to amaze me. I’m going to run home first and feed the kids. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Kate was walking back to her own car when a woman came out of the house across the street.

  “Yoo-hoo,” she called, waving her arm. “Excuse me, Officer.”

  Kate paused and waited for the woman to cross the street.

  “You are the police aren’t you?” she asked looking directly at the gun and badge on Kate’s belt.

  “I’m Detective Snow. Can I help you?”

  “I’m Dottie Bishop, I live across the street.” She pointed to the pretty pink bungalow she’d just come from. “I’ve been out of town, sick mother,” she offered by way of explanation. “Is there any news about that poor little boy?”

  Kate smiled. “He’s been found and he’s safe.”

  Dottie pressed a hand to her heart. “Oh thank the lord. I’ve been so worried, what with my mom being sick and all and not being able to help. I’ve just been beside myself.”

  “We’re all delighted to know he’s safe,” Kate replied then glanced pointedly at her watch. “But if you’ll excuse me.… ”

  “And did the principal do it?” Dottie pushed. “It’s been driving me crazy not knowing what was happening.”

  “Did the principal do what?” Kate raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, I just thought.” Dottie began to wilt under Kate’s stare. “Oh, never mind. I guess you can’t really talk about it anyway.”

  “Dottie,” Kate said when the woman started to turn away, “what are you talking about? Did you see something?”

  Dottie’s face lit up with delight. “Oooh, I’ve always wanted to be a part of an investigation. I love those shows on television. Can’t get enough of true crime programs. Warren, that’s my husband, says I should have been on the force because I always solve the crime before the show is over and I’m almost always right,” she added with a proud smile.

  Kate stood patiently and let the woman wind down. “And...?”

  “Well,” she dropped her voice to a hushed whisper, “that morning, the morning that Mr. Witmore died, I’m pretty sure I saw a man go into their house.”

  Kate thought of Karl Patterson who had just admitted to being there. “And was there anything else?”

  Dottie looked surprised that Kate wasn’t more interested. “Well, I just thought it strange, that’s all.”

  “The Witmores didn’t usually have visitors?”

  “No, that Principal Phelps would make a home visit. I thought at the time that their little boy must have been in big trouble for him to do something like that, and on a day when school wasn’t even in session. I mean, you have to admit it’s unusual. Have you met the principal? Well, of course you have,” Dottie rambled on. “You would have interviewed him already.”

  “And did you share this information with any of the offi
cers who talked to the neighbors?” Kate worked to keep her tone even.

  “Well, no one ever came to talk to me,” she pouted. “But then I think I was on nights that week, so I probably wasn’t home if they came. I waitress over at the Swordfish Café. Have you eaten there? We have the best cheesecake in town and, well, then my mom got sick,” she sighed. “I’ve been in South Carolina tending to her. Just got back this afternoon and I recognized you. You were here that day. The day Mr. Witmore died. I’m good with faces that way,” she preened.

  “And you know Mr. Phelps?”

  “Sure. He was the principal at the elementary school and, thankfully, it was my Mary Ann’s last year.”

  “Mary Ann?”

  “Mary Ann’s my daughter and a brighter kid you’ll never find. If you can just wait a minute I can run in the house and get you her picture.”

  Kate touched Dottie’s arm as she started to turn. “Thanks, but that won’t be necessary. So Dottie, you’re telling me you saw Principal Phelps at the Witmore’s home the morning Mr. Witmore died?”

  Dottie nodded her head excitedly. “Yes, I’m sure it was him. I mean I know him because of Mary Ann. He’s not a very nice man. When I went to talk to him about it, he was actually rude to me.”

  “You went to talk to him about being at the Witmore’s that morning?” Kate held her breath.

  “No, no. It was last year. Actually, it was more toward the end of the year. Mary Ann thought she was going to get a bad grade in math so I went in to talk to him. It was the first time I’d met the man but I didn’t expect him to be so…” She searched for the right word. “I guess unbending would be the best way to describe it. He had the nerve to tell me that if Mary Ann deserved an A she would receive an A. And if Ms. Thomas gave her a B it would be because she deserved a B. I mean can you imagine?”

  “No I don’t believe I can.”

  “So what did their little boy do? I mean what kind of trouble did he get into to make the principal come on a vacation day? You can tell me.” She leaned in a little closer. “I wouldn’t say a word to anyone.”

  “I’m not aware that Christian was ever in trouble,” Kate said evenly. “Did you see anyone else visit the Witmore’s that day?”

  Dottie shook her head and pouted. “No, he was the only one I saw. So did he have anything to do with Mr. Witmore’s death? It’s all over the news that he was poisoned and if it had anything to do with Mr. Phelps then I need to call my friends and tell them to take their children out of that school. And oh, oh my,” she took a step backward. “A teacher just died from that school. Mary Ann was really upset when we heard that the physical education teacher had been killed. Did Principal Phelps have anything to do with that? I mean, Ms. Harkins was Mary Ann’s favorite teacher. Oh, my gosh, did I just give you another clue?”

  Kate resisted rolling her eyes. “Dottie, Ms. Harkins was killed in a traffic accident Friday night.”

  “But was Mr. Phelps there? Did he have something to do with it? I mean I never liked that man from the first time I met him. And Warren, that’s my husband, he says I’m a good judge of character. So did he have something to do with it? Was he in the other car?”

  Kate took a breath. “No he wasn’t there, and no, he didn’t have anything to do with it,” she said calmly. Or at least anything I would share with you at this moment.

  “Oh, well, if I think of anything else I should call you right?”

  Kate pulled out one of her cards. “Feel free to call me if you remember anything else from that day.”

  Dottie nodded solemnly. “You can count on me, Detective.” And with a wistful sigh, Dottie turned and went back into her house.

  Kate checked her watch again. She was going to be late, but now she had another suspect. Sometimes when it rains it pours, she thought. Then looking up into the cloudless sky she wondered if they would ever get some real rain to break the heat wave that was slowly frying everyone to a crisp.

  * * *

  Julie Finch sat in her history class and tried to organize her notes. Her research paper on bird smuggling was coming along, but she just couldn’t keep her mind on her work. She’d taken the plunge, made the call and now she had an honest to goodness interview for a job after school. She couldn’t wait to see the look on her mother’s face when she walked in the door and announced she’d done it. Now she just had to make it work. She wondered if Sylvia would remember her from the animal shelter. She thought they had worked well together, but you never really knew with grown-ups. And if things worked out the way she hoped, maybe Sylvia could give her some unique insights for her paper.

  Her phone vibrated in her purse and she carefully slipped it out to read the text. Quills – Art Room – After – ASAP. She took a deep breath. This was going to be a problem. She wondered how Nicole would react when she said she couldn’t stay for the second time. Slipping her phone back in her purse, Julie tried to think of a way to ease out of the group. She’d wanted so much to be accepted by them in the beginning, only to find they were nothing like what she expected. Could she quit? Did anyone quit the Quills? And what would happen if she did? The thought of having Nicole Atwood and her friends as enemies was not pleasant, and she couldn’t suppress a shudder at the thought of what a few well-placed comments could do to her slowly growing reputation. Would Marques still want to date her if he knew she was on Nicole’s hit list? She wondered if she was already in dangerous territory because of asking him to sit with her while she talked to the police. And while he had been wonderful, and even held her hand during the interview, he hadn’t asked her for another date. She shuffled her notes yet again, but she wasn’t sure which problem she was actually working on.

  When the bell finally sounded, Julie made her way to the art room. She’d contemplated not showing up but that seemed the cowardly way out. She walked in still wondering what she was going to say.

  “I think it’s perfect,” Nicole walked around the poster that rested on the easel. “Who would have thought you could do something like this.”

  Willow smiled. “Thanks, I think this one is one of my favorites.”

  “It makes me want a soda that’s for sure,” Zeke piped in.

  Julie moved closer then stopped in awe. Willow had created a 3D picture of a soda can that looked so real Julie thought she could reach in and just pick it up. “That’s amazing,” she gasped turning to Willow. “You are so talented.”

  “Now we have to figure out how to use this,” Rhys said.

  “I’m still thinking sinkhole,” Nicole said perching on the corner of a desk. “What about you Finch. What ideas have you come up with?”

  Julie hugged her books tighter to her chest. “Actually, I can’t stay today. I have an appointment and I need to leave.”

  “Again?” Nicole’s voice was icy.

  “I’m sorry,” Julie said quietly. “But I didn’t know there was a meeting and I had already scheduled the appointment.” She looked around the room, “Sorry, but I’ve got to go. Ah, Willow, those pictures are beyond amazing. See you guys.” And turning, she fled before anyone else could say anything.

  Nicole sat swinging her foot in agitation. “I hope we didn’t make a mistake with that one.”

  “Ah, she’ll be okay,” Zeke said turning back to the chalk picture. “A sinkhole you said? How could we get it to be on the ground?”

  Willow stood and contemplated her work. “I usually use a stretched canvas for the base under the chalk. I don’t see how just setting this on the ground would fool anyone.” She took her sketchbook and began to do a simple drawing of a sinkhole.

  “Could you do that directly on the ground?” Rhys asked.

  “Well sure, but these take days and I really don’t see me sitting on the ground for that long without someone noticing.”

  “What if you worked on another type of surface,” Nicole said. “Something that we could transport and would lie flat.”

  “Hey, what about vinyl?” Zeke offered. “It’s thin and a
fter you were finished we could take it out and unroll it on the road somewhere and make drivers think there was a ditch in the middle of the road.”

  “I don’t know…” Willow frowned. “I’m not sure how my chalks would work on vinyl. I mean doesn’t that have a shiny surface?”

  “There are different types,” Rhys said. “We can get you some samples and you can see which would work the best.”

  “I don’t know.” Willow shook her head.

  “Come on, you at least have to try. This is such a dynamite idea.” Zeke said.

  “You can do it!” Nicole stood up and walked over to put her arm around Willow’s shoulders. “You have as much talent as that what’s-his name who is so famous for his sidewalk art.”

  “His name is Julian Beever,” Willow said. “And I’m nowhere near as good as he is. That man is an artist.”

  “Who is still just drawing on sidewalks,” Nicole said giving Willow’s shoulders a squeeze. “You can do it. I know you can.” She turned to the group. “And this will trump stupid plastic flamingos big time. This,” she pointed to the rough sketch Willow held, “this will go down in Quill history and we’ll all be famous.”

  * * *

  Julie parked in front of the pet store and took a deep breath. She’d never applied for a job before and her stomach was tying itself in knots. Would Sylvia remember her? And if she did, would that be a good thing? She climbed out of the car and walked slowly to the door, trying to steady her nerves. Yesterday, when Mom had declared war and insisted she get a job, she’d been madder than heck. But somehow between then and now things had changed. Now she really, really wanted this job. She’d have her own money and not have to answer to anyone. If she wanted to spend a hundred, heck, two hundred dollars on a blouse, it would be her money and she could do as she pleased. The thought was so appealing she pulled open the door and walked in with confidence. She saw Sylvia standing behind the counter.

  “Good afternoon,” Sylvia called over. “Can I help you with anything?”

  “I, um, I’m here to apply for the job. I spoke with you on the phone earlier this afternoon.”

  “Oh, Julie, right? I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you at first.”

  Julie smiled and walked over to the counter. “I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me.”