Murder Is No Accident

by A. H. Gabhart

  The cat, Miss Marble, had disappeared when Maggie and the others left. Anthony had offered to go feed Jasper. Michael let him with some trepidation. Not that Anthony was in danger. Nobody had threatened him. But Michael wanted to hover over them all to keep them safe.

  The people in the houses across the road hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. One neighbor saw Sonny’s car in the driveway, but Sonny had a right to be there.

  Lana Waverly was visibly shocked when Michael went by to question her. She said a group of women had come in at lunchtime and lingered as they discussed forming a book club. She tried to reach Sonny to tell him she would have to come another time, but he hadn’t answered his phone. Michael would have no problem checking out her story.

  He called Mrs. Gibson. She gave him Sonny’s sister’s number in Arizona. Not a call Michael wanted to make, but it had to be done. The one person in the world who truly loved Sonny was his mother. That is, if you didn’t count Felicia Peterson. Betty Jean had tried to track her down, but with no luck.

  Nothing for it but to swing by Felicia’s place in a small four-unit apartment building behind Main Street. He knocked on the door with no response. A new wiggle of worry woke inside Michael. He was ready to find the building’s landlord to open the door for him, when the woman who lived in the apartment adjoining Felicia’s stuck her head out her door.

  “Felicia’s not home. I saw her leave before noon. Figured she was going to see Miss Fonda. You know Ellen pays her to sit with the old lady.” Carla Larson peered over the top of her glasses at Michael, curiosity mixed with annoyance. A game show sounded in the background and he was probably causing her to miss the best parts. “Is something wrong?”

  Michael didn’t tell her that Felicia wasn’t at Mrs. Gibson’s. He didn’t tell her Sonny Elwood was dead. Not that she wouldn’t know five minutes after he left. He was surprised she didn’t already know. “You wouldn’t happen to have Felicia’s cell number?”

  Curiosity won over whatever was happening on her television show. Mrs. Larson stepped out on the landing in front of her apartment. Michael guessed her to be in her sixties, in spite of her still-brown hair. She wore loose sweats and jogging shoes, but he doubted she’d ever jogged farther than the refrigerator.

  She made a little face. “Felicia’s never seen fit to share that with me. The girl keeps to herself when she’s here. That’s not much. In and out all the time. Can’t imagine what she might be doing.”

  “Oh?” It didn’t take much to keep somebody like Carla Larson talking.

  “Well, like I said, Felicia doesn’t confide in me, but let me tell you, the girl stays busy. I hear she’s keeping company with that Sonny Elwood. Somebody told me they were the next thing to engaged.”

  “Is that right?”

  “So I’ve heard. Not that he’s around here much. You’d think he’d come by now and again, wouldn’t you? Makes a person wonder if this engagement talk is all just that. Nothing but talk.” Mrs. Larson paused and raised her eyebrows a bit. “Now, I’m not one to gossip but living right next door like this, a person can’t help but notice things.”

  “Sounds like you’re very observant,” Michael said.

  “Oh, I see things, but I don’t always talk about them. But seeing as how you’re a policeman, I figure you’re investigating the girl for some reason. I hear tell she’s been in trouble with the law before. And you know how you read in the paper about drug dealers being right in the middle of the best neighborhoods.”

  “I’m not here to arrest her, Mrs. Larson. Just to give her some news.”

  “Oh dear, is it bad?” Mrs. Larson looked genuinely distressed. “And here I have been going on and on about her.”

  Michael pulled out one of Sheriff Potter’s old campaign cards and wrote his cell number on the back. “I’ll stick this in her door, but if you see her, would you ask her to call in case she doesn’t notice the card?” He wrote his number on another card for her.

  “I’ll be glad to, unless I’ve already gone to bed before she comes in.”

  Wouldn’t be much chance of that. Not once Mrs. Larson heard about Sonny. The woman would be glued to the window.

  Back in his car, Michael checked in with Betty Jean to report Felicia wasn’t at her apartment. “I’ll check with Justin to see if he can find her number on Sonny’s phone. I should have kept that anyway as evidence.”

  “I tried that already,” Betty Jean said. “Justin doesn’t have Sonny’s phone. He thought you had it.”

  “Nope.”

  “Okay then.” Michael could hear her tapping her pen on her desk. She did that when she was thinking. “I guess I need to start the process to get Sonny’s phone records.”

  “You’re a gem. But I thought you had a date.” Michael checked the time. It was past seven.

  “Not a date. Dinner with an old friend.” Her voice sounded carefully casual. “I’m leaving in a few minutes.”

  “The best kind of date.” The kind Michael had hoped to have before somebody shot Sonny Elwood.

  Instead of turning toward Keane Street and Alex the way he wanted to, he drove by Maggie’s house again. The trailer was all buttoned up. Doors and windows closed. Maybe barricaded. Curt Greene’s truck wasn’t in the driveway. Mary Greene must not have been able to reach him or surely he’d be there to watch over his family.

  Anthony’s old car wasn’t there either. Not that Michael expected it to be. By now, Anthony would be settled on Michael’s couch with Jasper on the floor beside him.

  After another loop through the trailer park, Michael eased past Maggie’s house one more time before he headed back to the main road. The state patrol would make another drive-through in a few minutes and keep a watch through the night. But Michael needed to relieve Lester at the Chandler house. The crime scene had to be secured until Buck brought in the crime technicians in the morning. Lester would be anxious to get home for supper.

  Michael’s stomach complained a bit too as he pulled up behind Lester’s patrol car, glad to see Lester hadn’t left his dome lights flashing. He’d be even gladder to see the state patrolman Buck was sending out to relieve Michael. He hoped that would be soon. He intended to see Alex before the night was over. He didn’t care if all the lights were off at Reece’s house when he got there. He would bang on the door anyway.

  25

  Mondays sometimes felt like the longest day of the week. Too many of her students came back to school after the weekend with fuzzy brains. This Monday, Malinda had been the same. Teaching by rote instead of enthusiasm.

  She just couldn’t stop worrying. Something she knew did absolutely no good. Something the Scripture warned against. Have faith, not worries. Not in those exact words, but the thought was there. But some worries were nearly impossible to dismiss. Worries about Michael and Alexandria. Worries about Reece. Worries about the children in her classes. Like that Maggie Greene. The girl had been a thousand miles away during algebra class.

  The child might be letting her brain get clouded with young love. Malinda had seen Anthony with her in the hall that morning. They hadn’t seen her. They didn’t have eyes for anybody but each other. But in class, Maggie had looked like something more than that was bothering her. No doubt, problems at home.

  Some thought teen years should be carefree with no problems, but being young didn’t negate life challenges. Malinda knew that firsthand. Hadn’t she carried Michael through the worst thing to happen to a young teen? The loss of his parents.

  Maggie had her parents, but it was no secret they were struggling since Curt Greene lost his job. Through no fault of his. Layoffs and factory closings were far too common. That was no excuse for his drinking, but people had a way of messing up. She saw that every day at school, and there were plenty of things she couldn’t fix. But she could help Maggie keep from messing up in algebra.

  She wished she had as good a chance of keeping Michael and Alexandria from messing up in love. Funny how things worked. She’d been
so sure Alexandria being here to take care of Reece was exactly what the two needed. That would give them time together to figure things out and finally embrace love.

  But instead they appeared to be pushing each other away. Or perhaps not they. Michael was obviously besotted by the girl. Alexandria was the problem. Not that she wasn’t besotted too. She loved Michael. Malinda knew that hadn’t changed, but something had. The girl was stepping back, away from Michael. She must be sensing he was ready to risk everything to ask her to share his life. Malinda supposed she’d pushed him into that.

  Malinda sighed as she peered out the window toward Reece’s house. No sign of Michael’s patrol car. He should be there. Fighting for love. Had he completely lost courage?

  Well, she wouldn’t let that happen. Even if people did decide she was a meddling old woman. Some things needed meddling to make them come out right. And a lot of prayer. She was capable of both.

  She had her jacket on and was heading across the yards when Betty Jean Atkins pulled up in front of Reece’s house. A man Malinda didn’t recognize climbed out of the passenger seat. He was tall, and even from across the yard she could see he was nice looking. Certainly not that Vernon Trent Malinda had heard Betty Jean was dating. Thank goodness. Malinda wouldn’t wish that man on anybody.

  Betty Jean and the stranger lifted something out of the backseat. Takeout boxes from the Grill. And that had to be a pie the man was balancing on top of the Styrofoam boxes. Michael must have ordered the food, but where was he? Something must be wrong. That seemed way too common lately in Hidden Springs.

  Malinda called to Betty Jean and picked up her pace across the yard. Not exactly running. Women her age didn’t run, but she wanted to when she got a good look at Betty Jean’s face.

  Without so much as a hello, Malinda asked, “What’s happened? Is Michael all right?”

  “Michael’s fine, Miss Keane,” Betty Jean said. “You know you’d be the first to know if something was wrong with Michael.”

  Betty Jean’s placating tone grated on Malinda’s nerves, made her practically bark out her next questions. “Then where is he? And I asked you what happened. Spit it out.”

  Betty Jean shifted the food boxes in her hands and did as she was told. “Sonny Elwood got shot.”

  “By Michael?” Malinda was sorry for the words as soon as she uttered them. It wasn’t like her to jump to conclusions. Better to let Betty Jean tell her what happened, but the girl did seem to want to drag out the news.

  “No.” Betty Jean gave a shake of her head. “The responsible person has yet to be apprehended.”

  “And Sonny?”

  “Dead.” Betty Jean glanced over at the man beside her who hadn’t said a word.

  “Are you saying Sonny was murdered? Here in Hidden Springs?” Malinda didn’t want to believe her ears. Not more crime in Hidden Springs.

  “I’m afraid so. His body was found this afternoon.” Another uneasy look over at her friend. “At the Chandler house.”

  “Oh dear.” Malinda’s relief that Michael was safe was tempered by her sympathy for Sonny’s mother. “Poor Ellen. This will be a hard blow for her. Did you have to call her, Betty Jean?”

  “No, thank goodness. Michael did that. Look, we need to get this food inside before we drop something.”

  When she turned toward the door without introducing the man beside her, he carefully freed a hand from under the carryout boxes to stretch out toward Malinda. “You probably don’t recognize me, Miss Keane, but you haven’t changed a bit since you introduced me to algebra. I’m Grant Harper.”

  “Grant. Of course. Geraldine’s son.” Malinda touched his hand without letting him squeeze hers. That pesky arthritis. While Grant wasn’t the same awkward boy in black-rimmed glasses Malinda remembered from high school, she did recognize him now that she looked closer. “You were an excellent student. Good math skills.”

  “Oh gosh, I should have introduced you.” Betty Jean’s face flashed red as she glanced back at them. “I’m sorry.”

  “No problem.” Grant smiled at Betty Jean.

  Betty Jean looked ready to melt down on the spot. The man did have a charming smile. Sincere. Friendly. A Hidden Springs kind of smile. And why not? He spent a lot of his childhood years here. Those important formative years.

  “Grant’s right.” Malinda let Betty Jean off the hook as well. “Murders have a way of distracting a person.”

  Betty Jean flinched at the word “murder” but didn’t contradict Malinda.

  “Yes.” Grant jerked his hand back to grab at the pie that was sliding off the food boxes.

  Malinda reached to rescue it. “I am sorry about your mother. Such a dreadful accident.”

  Betty Jean turned quickly back toward the house but not before Malinda noted the look on her face. So there were questions now about Geraldine’s death as well. Two people found dead in the same house three days apart had to give rise to all sorts of suppositions. And eliminate the chance for romance to blossom. At least between Michael and Alexandria. It appeared to be a vehicle for romance for Betty Jean.

  Inside, Reece looked better. He set his cat, Two Bits, out of his lap and stood to greet them. Smiling. Alexandria didn’t look nearly as happy. Perhaps her lawyer radar sensed something out of the way or Malinda could wish it was simply because Michael wasn’t there.

  Betty Jean introduced Grant and explained why she was bringing the food instead of Michael.

  “At the Chandler house you say.” Reece felt behind him for the chair and sank back down in it.

  Alexandria hovered over him. “Are you all right, Uncle Reece? The doctor said you shouldn’t get upset.”

  “It appears time to be upset. Poor Grant here losing his mother on Friday and now this.” The cat jumped back up in his lap and he stroked it head to tail. “Sit down, everybody.”

  “We can’t stay,” Betty Jean spoke up quickly while easing toward the door. “Grant’s anxious to give Cindy’s finest a try. He remembers hanging out at the Grill back when he was a kid.”

  “I do. Should be a great place for us to reminisce about our high school days.” Grant smiled at Betty Jean, but then the smile slid off his face. “It’ll be food to get my mind off losing Mother for a little while. Her death was so unexpected.”

  “I’m sorry about your mother.” Alexandria gave him a sympathetic look. “Life can sometimes be uncertain.”

  “Seems that way in Hidden Springs lately.” Reece looked up from stroking Two Bits. “Why would anybody want to kill Sonny Elwood? He was harmless enough.” He settled his gaze on Betty Jean.

  “I can’t talk about an ongoing investigation.” Betty Jean took on an official tone, but then her voice softened. “I don’t know much anyway. Michael is investigating. He’ll figure it out. He always does.”

  “But at what cost?” Reece looked back down at the cat. “To him. To Hidden Springs. We used to be such a peaceful little town and now murder is becoming commonplace.”

  “Murder should never be commonplace,” Malinda said. “Especially in our town.”

  “People are people everywhere. Some good. Some bad,” Alexandria said. “I deal with both every week.”

  “Alex is an attorney in Washington, DC.” Betty Jean turned toward Grant, then back to Alexandria. “I’m sure Grant has had his share of encounters with all sorts of people in his business world.”

  “Not at all. At least not anymore.” Grant smiled. “Now, it’s all flowers and celebration. And sometimes panic when guys forget their anniversaries. I do flowers by mail that can be ordered on the internet,” he explained. “Men sometimes want to send my company flowers, they are so grateful for last-minute solutions.”

  Malinda gave Grant another look. He wasn’t much like his mother, with her in-your-face personality. He was a man easy with his success and who in turn knew how to make those around him comfortable. Like Michael. Except Michael wouldn’t be feeling comfortable about anything right now with another murder to solve. He had
come back to Hidden Springs to get away from big-city crime, but it seemed to have followed him.

  Then again, sometimes the Lord had a way of putting a person right where he was needed to make good come out of the worst happenings. That was what she had hoped for after Reece’s stroke. Good for Michael and Alexandria to come from that, but things weren’t happening as she thought they might. She’d never seen Alexandria so uncertain. She generally appeared to have the world by the tail and ready to make life happen to suit her fancy. But now under the polite façade she was showing Grant and Betty Jean was something else. Something almost fragile looking. Fragile was not a word Malinda would have ever used to describe Alexandria, but then perhaps everyone was fragile when it came to love.

  After seeing Betty Jean and Grant to the door, Alexandria came back to the sitting room and stared straight at Malinda. “Aren’t you worried about Michael?”

  When Malinda hesitated, Reece spoke up. “Michael’s good at what he does. He’ll be fine. If I know him, he’ll stop by here before he goes home. He’ll be hungry.”

  Malinda hadn’t intended to stay. She had papers to grade. But when Alexandria asked her, she didn’t refuse. The papers could wait. Reece was right. Michael would come see Alexandria. And Malinda needed to see Michael. Not only see him, but see Alexandria with him. Maybe then she could figure out a way to fix whatever was wrong between them.

  26

  At the supper table, Maggie’s mother kept frowning over at her and telling her it didn’t help anything to not eat. So Maggie dipped some potatoes onto her plate and took her time cutting her hot dog into little circles.

  She tried not to look at Jesse’s plate. He liked lots of ketchup with his potatoes. They didn’t talk about Mr. Elwood. Her mother told her she could if she wanted to, but she didn’t want to. She simply wanted none of it to have happened. None of it. Not Mrs. Harper. Not Mr. Elwood. She wanted to go back in time to when Miss Fonda was still at her house and sitting out on the porch petting Miss Marble.