“I’m fine, and you look the same. How is your mother?”
Barbara chuckled. “That crazy woman moved to California to do commercials, and she’s actually had roles in some local ones. Can you believe it?”
“That’s wonderful!”
“You know, it really is. She’s having the time of her life, and I admit I’m just a little envious that she had the nerve to go for it. Just like you and your friends opening the Handcraft Emporium.” She beamed at me. “You’re Nixy, and I’m Barbara. We met in passing this summer.”
“I remembered you as soon as I saw you,” I said.
“I’m just sorry I don’t stop in more often. Now then, what can I do for you? Are you looking for a CPA?”
I let Eleanor take the lead again.
“We’re visiting with people who live at Ozark Arms, or used to live there,” she said.
“You want to know about Cornell Lewis? Oh, no need to be startled. That new female detective talked to me yesterday.”
“Was this here or at your apartment?”
“The apartment, and she asked to take a look around. I thought that sounded odd, so I asked what she was looking for. When she told me peanut products, I laughed because I’m allergic to nuts.”
“You are?” Eleanor said. “I never knew that.”
“No reason you should know.”
“Barbara, did you see Cornell Lewis this weekend?”
“I did! I saw him at the festival, over at the hot dog stand. I swear my heart stopped.”
“What did you do?” Eleanor asked.
“I turned right around and left, which was all right. I’d already spent what I budgeted for the festival. I just wanted out of there.”
“Do you think he saw you?” I asked.
“No, he was helping customers.” She visibly shuddered. “I heard he came into the emporium to talk to you, Eleanor. Is that true?”
“Yes, on Friday afternoon. He said he was making amends, but I didn’t believe it for a moment.”
“The thing is, we’re trying to find out who might have seen or talked to him before he was killed.” When she suddenly looked affronted, I quickly added, “We’re not out to accuse anyone of murder, but to find out if anyone else was seen with Cornell. That person could be the killer.”
Barbara shook her head. “Aside from customers, I didn’t see anyone else but that Dex Hamlin creature. I understand he’s dead, too.”
Eleanor nodded. “Barbara, I can’t tell you exactly why, but the detective thinks my housemates killed one or both of them.”
“Are you joking?” We shook our heads, and Barbara grasped Eleanor’s hand. “Oh, my friend, I am sorry to hear this. I had a feeling one of you was under the gun, just from the questions that woman asked. I told her I was relieved when Lewis was fired but didn’t know a soul who’d kill him.”
An alarm went off on Barbara’s desk, and she hustled to turn it off. “I’m sorry, ladies, but Brad is due back and has a client coming shortly. I need to pull files.”
“If you think of or hear of anything else that might help us—”
“I’ll call immediately.”
“Thank you,” Eleanor said just as my phone rang.
A glance showed that someone was calling from the shop’s landline.
“Mayday, mayday,” I heard before I could say hello.
“Maise? What’s wrong?”
“Get over here pronto. Detective Vogelman is arresting Aster and me, and Fred’s about to have a coronary.”
• • •
Eleanor and I rushed out of the CPA’s office in time to see a plain sedan taking up two of the diagonal parking spaces in front of the emporium. A patrol car took another space.
Aster stood by the sedan, one hand braced on its roof, the other on the open back door, chin raised in defiance. Maise exited the shop, escorted by Officer Bryant. Sherry, Fred, and Dab spilled out the door behind them.
Maise moved to stand by her sister, her eyes shooting sparks, looking ready to storm a beach and take no prisoners. Doug Bryant planted himself on the sidewalk as if to take care of crowd control. Vogelman guarded the ladies until they were both in the backseat, and then she shut the door. At least she hadn’t put them in handcuffs.
Vogelman ignored Fred, Dab, Sherry, and everyone who’d stopped to stare. Which was dang near everyone who happened to be shopping or owned a business in the square. She got in the sedan with the ladies, backed up, and drove off toward the police station.
Eleanor had already crossed the street when I unfroze and followed. Fred’s face was so flushed, I was tempted to call an ambulance. Sherry blotted her eyes with a white handkerchief, the kind Dab always carried. Dab stood stiffly, arms at his sides, fists clenched.
A couple of bystanders looked militant, too. They were the business owners who knew us all well. Some crowded around the five of us where we stood on the sidewalk, and others milled about nearby.
“Ridiculous!” one angry voice shouted.
“Ludicrous!” another agreed.
“This is an outrage,” said a voice I recognized as Lilyvale’s mayor, Patrick Paulson.
Then there were a few plaintive voices asking what was happening.
“Eleanor, we need to get into the store,” I said.
She nodded and took Sherry’s elbow while I motioned to Dab and Fred. When we were inside, I stopped at the door and turned to those who’d trailed after us.
“Everyone, thank you for your support. We need some time right now.”
I saw heads nod, but Mayor Paulson pushed his way through the throng. He’d been joined by B.G. Huff, councilman and owner of the furniture store down the block where I’d bought just about everything for my apartment.
“I can’t interfere with police business, but B.G. and I can sure see to Maise’s and Aster’s comfort.” Mayor Paulson patted my arm. “Try not to worry overmuch.”
I didn’t know what he meant by seeing to their comfort, or how he expected us not to worry, but I thanked him and ducked inside. Then I locked the door and flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED.
Jasmine hovered behind the counter, her eyes huge. I hadn’t expected to see our work-study clerk here today, then recalled it was yesterday she’d had several major tests.
I looked around for Sherry and found her sitting in a decorative chair. It wasn’t really made to sit in, but it held her weight, and I wasn’t about to tell her to move. My poor aunt was pale and trembling, clearly in shock.
I took command and turned to Jasmine. “Will you man the landline, please? I have a feeling that phone is about to ring nonstop.”
“Yes, ma’am, but what should I say?”
“If people want to bring food, ask them to take their dishes to the house. If they ask what else they can do—”
“Tell them to pray,” Eleanor said from behind me.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jasmine answered as the shop phone rang.
I caught sight of movement outside and went to peer out the display window to see if the crowd had dispersed. Those who’d been bunched at our door were gone, but others streamed by on the sidewalk. I thought they disappeared into Gaskin’s Business Center. Odd, but not a mystery on my priority list.
I refocused on Sherry’s white face. “You’ve called Dinah, I’m sure.”
“Immediately. She’ll be over as soon as she can.”
“Were Maise and Aster arrested because of those stupid cookies?”
Sherry threw up her hands. “We don’t know. All Vogelman would say is that the police have new evidence.”
“Do you think Dinah will find out what it is?”
“Maybe, but I’m more worried about how long Aster and Maise will have to stay in jail.”
I clasped her hands in mine. “You were at the salon this morning when Dinah came by, but s
he told us that if it came to this, she’d push for a speedy arraignment.”
“But it’s Thursday. What if they have to spend the whole weekend there?”
“Knowing Aster, she’ll meditate after she spritzes them both with lavender water.”
“She can’t use the spray,” Dab said. “The detective wouldn’t let her take her purse.”
“Woulda confiscated it at the station anyway,” Fred put in. “Idjit woman.”
I knew he meant Vogelman, not Aster, and patted his arm. “Then we’ll smuggle in the spray bottle just as soon as we can see her.”
“What do we do until then?” Dab asked.
“We do what Maise would. Fall back and regroup.”
• • •
Jasmine said she could run the store without us and reminded me that Kathy was supposed to come in for more training that afternoon when she finished with her classes. Reassured Jasmine had us covered, I flipped the sign back to OPEN but told Jasmine to tactfully stonewall any gossip seekers.
Dab, Fred, Sherry, Eleanor, and I went to the workroom to confab. Amber parked herself between Dab and Fred, and T.C. leaped to the table. She purred like a finely tuned engine, and the sound alone was calming.
With a roll of tape from Fred’s stash in hand, I slipped the photos of Cornell with my pets and the accidental shot of Durley from the envelope.
“Who’s that young guy? He important?” Fred asked as I taped the prints to the flip chart.
“His name is Lee Durley and I’m not sure he belongs on the board, but I don’t want to overlook any detail.” Photos secure, I took the marker in hand, labeled them, and turned to the seniors. “First, let’s pool our information. Did you gentlemen learn anything new at the hardware store?”
Fred snorted. “The short of it is, t’ain’t one solitary person had dealin’s with Cornell who liked him.”
“And everyone we talked with hated Dex Hamlin,” Dab said.
“Did anyone at all stand out as a possible suspect in either murder?”
“Not one more than t’other.” Fred looked at Sherry. “You hear gossip at the beauty shop?”
“It isn’t much, but Helen takes on some of the newly graduated cosmetology students from the technical school. Well, one of them, Carmel Williams, used to live at the Arms, and she both feared and hated Cornell because he’d leer at her and make suggestive comments. Carmel told Helen she hoped he went over to Bog’s Barber Shop for haircuts because she’d be sorely tempted to sink a pair of scissors in his neck.”
“Is it too much to hope that she’s still with Helen?” I was relieved Sherry was regaining some color in her face.
“She moved to Texarkana before he was fired, but Helen has another hairdresser who still lives at the Arms. Annie Byrd. She came in while I was there, and she told me she’d seen Cornell at the bake sale on her way to work Saturday. Cornell saw her, too, but didn’t recognize her. She’s lost a lot of weight since he was fired and cleared out of town, but she scooted right on out of there.”
I madly wrote names and comments beside each one on the flip chart. When I’d caught up, Eleanor relayed what she and I had learned in our interviews during the past two days. Again I recorded the highlights, but for all the people we’d talked with, we were still woefully short on suspects. As in we pretty much had none.
“What if we go at this another way?” I mused aloud. “What if we look at Dex’s murder first?”
“If Dex attempted to blackmail Randy Darby, then he must’ve blackmailed other people. Successfully or unsuccessfully,” Dab said.
“That’d surely be reason enough to kill ’im, but how’re we gonna find out who he had under his thumb?”
“Look at the people he pressured to get him into the festival?” I asked.
“I do believe you’d be stirring up a hornet’s nest there.”
“Eleanor is correct,” Dab said. “Dex was connected to a councilwoman, a Chamber of Commerce director, and even a clergyman. Now, some of those connections may be cousins by marriage, twice removed, and possibly on the wrong side of the blanket, but—”
“The what?” I asked.
“That’s a euphemism for illegitimate, child,” Sherry said.
“My point is who in their right mind would admit to being blackmailed?”
My shoulders sagged. “You’re right. We have information about Cornell being a bully, maybe a drunkard, and a general sleaze. We know Hamlin was universally disliked, but tolerated perhaps because he was a blackmailer.”
“Nixy,” Aunt Sherry said, “what about that young man who moved out in a hurry before his lease was up? Minnie said he worked at the library, correct?”
“Yes, and I need to go talk with Debbie Nicole. I just haven’t had the chance.”
“Before you go a-harin’ off doin’ that, what about the fella up there? If he’s nobody, he don’t need to clutter up the board.”
“We should look him up on the Internet. Nixy, where is your tablet?” Sherry asked.
“In the apartment.”
“Well, run up and get it, child. While you do that, Eleanor and I will check in on Jasmine.”
Dab stood and stretched. “I need a little exercise. I’ll take Amber and T.C. for a short stroll.”
That’s all he had to say for T.C. and Amber to be on their feet, both spare leashes in Amber’s mouth. Good thing she didn’t slobber.
I popped up to my place, snagged my tablet from the kitchen counter where I’d forgotten to take it off the charger, and fired it up as I returned to the workroom. Fred had an electric can opener on the table that belonged to Ida Bollings. Surrounding the appliance were a handful of Phillips and flat-head screwdrivers in various sizes, and another one in his hand.
I didn’t have high expectations of finding Lee Durley. People I’d think would have at least Facebook pages sometimes didn’t, but looking couldn’t hurt, and might help.
I waited a few minutes, thinking Sherry and Eleanor would come back. When they didn’t I forged ahead with the search.
“Whoa!” I said when his name popped up immediately, and with multiple listings no less.
“What?” Fred asked, abandoning his project to come stand beside me and peer at the screen.
“Looks like this guy is a private investigator,” I answered, pointing to the first entry under Arkansas Private Investigators, Durley Investigations.
“Well, click on that, missy,” Fred commanded.
I did, and up came a page, a photo of piney woods as the background. There was a small photo—a lean guy with a shelf of books behind him—overlaid on the background, and sure enough, it was the Lee Durley I had met. I scrolled down, scanning a short bio as I went.
“Can’t see that clear ’nough,” Fred complained. “Read it aloud.”
“How about I summarize?” I countered. “He’s licensed, bonded, and insured. Experienced in law enforcement, has twelve years working as a private investigator, and located in El Dorado. That’s odd.”
“What’s odd?”
I gave Fred the highlights of seeing Durley, from our first meeting, to seeing him toting shopping bags and walking with his sister, and ending with spotting him the morning I found Cornell’s body.
“You say he was shoppin’ with his sister?”
“He told me it was his sister. I never saw her up close. Maybe it’s the sister who lives in the house where I saw him after I found Cornell.”
“Maybe he was here investigatin’ somethin’. Does he operate in this area?”
“All over southern Arkansas. Nothing about his marital status or family. I guess that wouldn’t be appropriate on a professional website.”
“What else does it say?”
I clicked on About Us and found a slightly longer bio. “Okay, Durley is an Arkansas native, raised in the same city he now works. Huh.
He has a female partner, Sally Maynard.” She didn’t look like the woman I’d seen with him. She’d been thinner. The partner was much younger, and she looked nothing like him. So not related, I presumed.
“Makes sense to have a woman in the firm. She can go places and do things that he can’t.” Fred humphed and went back to Ida’s can opener.
“But he didn’t say, ‘Go, Razorbacks,’” I murmured.
“What’s that?”
I told him of my exchange with Durley, and he only laughed. “You’re makin’ a mountain from a molehill, missy. For a practical woman, you sure ’nough have a good imagination.”
Fred was right. Even if the woman who’d been with Durley was his PI partner and not his sister, I wouldn’t recognize the woman from the website photo unless I’d collided with her at the festival.
For grins, I clicked back to the main search page. Lee Durley had a Better Business Bureau listing, reviews on a find-a-local-business site, and a LinkedIn account. Nothing on Facebook, but the man certainly appeared to be on the up-and-up.
The way things were going, maybe it was good to know of a reputable private investigator. The Six and I were getting nowhere fast.
I went to our murder board and checked off Durley’s name, but before I could take down the photo, Sherry burst in.
“Dinah is here and she has news!”
Chapter Seventeen
Dab walked into the workroom from the alley just as Eleanor and Dinah followed Sherry through the door from the store. We gathered at the workbench as usual, but the questions flew before we were all settled.
“How are Aster and Maise?”
“What in tarnation made that idjit arrest them?”
“Are they at the police station?”
“When will they be released?”
Dinah held up a hand. “First things first. Maise and Aster have been booked and are in a county holding cell. They aren’t happy, but they are doing well under the circumstances.”
I rephrased Fred’s question. “Aunt Sherry said Vogelman had new evidence? What is it?”
“The police traced the car Cornell died in, and it used to belong to Aster and Maise. Vogelman had the crime scene technicians do some routine fingerprinting, and both ladies’ prints were found.”
A Crime of Poison Page 19