Corpse on the Cob

by Sue Ann Jaffarian

  “Troy,” I said, bringing a hand to my mouth in horror. “Troy saw his father’s murdered body. Does he know that?”

  “We’re not sure what he saw. He’s with his Uncle Clem and Aunt Tara right now. Grady went with Cathy.”

  “You left Mom alone? If she knows who the killer is, she might be in danger.” Unless, I thought, the killer is either you or Grady.

  “I asked Joan Cummings to stay with her a bit. She works with us at the station.”

  “I remember meeting her. I also heard that it was her son who was supposed to be watching the maze that morning and was found stoned to the gills in a porta-potty. He’s the kid you took in.”

  “You heard that, did you?” Clark went on alert.

  “I’ve been told you can’t keep anything secret in this town.” I paused. “Guess that’s true. It also seems like Joan owes you big time for keeping her boy out of trouble. No wonder she was glad to watch Mom.”

  “And it’s no wonder you keep getting into trouble.”

  “My mother was found crouched over a dead body.” I strained to keep my voice from cracking. “I’m simply asking a few questions here and there.”

  “Well, stop it!” Clark got up and started pacing. “We have a killer out there, Odelia. A killer that quite possibly is one of the people living in this town. Someone who is here, among us, right now.” He ran a hand through his thinning hair. “If flushed out by your questions, he might become even more dangerous.”

  At this moment, Clark reminded me of Dev. The looks were different but the tune was the same, like fraternal twins separated at birth. Guess it’s a cop thing.

  “Whoever it is, Clark, I believe Mom not only knows who it is, but is protecting him or her from being discovered. And possibly not out of fear for her own safety but out of some sort of loyalty.”

  He stopped pacing and turned on me. “Did she tell you that when you sneaked in to visit her today?”

  Crap. Caught. “I didn’t sneak in. I went right through the front door.”

  “If that’s the case, seems funny no one saw you.”

  “Then how do you know I was even there?”

  “A little bird told me.”

  For a minute, I wondered if it was the orderly. I was sure Willie had paid him to bring my mother down to the chapel, but maybe he was also spying for Clark. Then I thought of someone else.

  “This little bird—was she young and cute with long blond hair, name of Brenda Bixby?” Clark avoided eye contact, so I continued. “ ’Cause this same little bird has been dogging me for information about Mom. She has it in her head that there’s a hot human interest story unraveling here. She even barged in on me and Willie during dinner tonight and ended the evening by making a very forward proposal to Greg’s cousin.”

  “Wish he’d taken her up on it.” Clark gave off a short bark of a laugh. “At least then she wouldn’t have been at the hospital tonight when I was leaving with Mom. Hounded us all the way to the car. Thought I was going to have to run her over to get out of the parking lot.”

  “Yes, I was at the hospital, Clark. Mom and I had a nice talk about a lot of things. But Brenda doesn’t know that for sure. She’s only guessing.”

  “Frankly, Odelia, I’m not sure which of you is the more dangerous.”

  I leaned forward. “Is that why you told Mom I had left already for California, because you think I’m dangerous?”

  “You’re dangerous because you’re going to stir up the killer like a hornet in a nest, just like that damn reporter!” Clark hovered over me, yelling. He noticed what he was doing, backed off, and took a minute to settle down before continuing. “I told Mom what I did to calm her down. She was very nervous about meeting you. I thought if she thought you’d gone home, she’d relax and maybe cooperate with CPAC and her attorney.”

  “And that’s the only reason?”

  He plopped down again onto the sofa. “Honestly, no. I thought if you didn’t see her, you would go home and not meddle. If you went home, you’d be out of danger. Then, when all this blew over, maybe you could come for a proper visit, or maybe Mom could fly out to California.”

  Just then we heard a vehicle pull into the driveway. I glanced out the side window and saw Willie’s SUV. Soon after, the back door opened.

  “We’re in here, Willie,” I called.

  Willie covered the hallway at a fast pace before making an appearance at the doorway to the parlor. I noted that his right hand rested on his waist, just inches from the gun concealed at the small of his back. He looked at Clark, then to me for assurance that all was well. I nodded and introduced the two men.

  Willie grinned and extended his right hand towards Clark. “Well, isn’t this a cozy family gathering?”

  The sight of my chief-of-police half brother shaking hands with Willie almost made my heart stop beating. I hoped that Willie was right, that he and his escapades had fallen off police radar, and that while Clark was busy Googling me, he hadn’t come across any mention of my connection with William Proctor, former CEO of Investanet.

  “Nice little town you have here, Chief,” Willie said, coming to stand by my chair. “I’ve never been out this way—mostly spent time in Boston and the Cape.”

  “You staying long?”

  “Odelia’s supposed to go home tomorrow.” Willie made a point of looking at me when he answered Clark. “So I’ll probably head out then, too. I have some business in upstate New York.”

  I cleared my throat. “Clark stopped by to tell me that Mom’s out of the hospital. She was released tonight.”

  “Well, that’s great news, isn’t it?”

  “He also told me that the police are now questioning Cathy Morgan. Seems the dead guy is actually her ex-husband.”

  “Morgan?” Willie plastered on a thoughtful look that almost even fooled me. “Is that the woman you told me about—the one who runs the vegetable stand?”

  “Yes,” I confirmed, “that’s her. The one with the boy who was in the maze.” I didn’t know if our little act was convincing, but I appreciated that Willie was a quick study.

  “Actually, that’s only part of why I dropped by.” Clark picked up his mug and took a few quick, small sips of coffee. He seemed to be stalling, unsure of what he had to say next. “Seems Mom has a hankering to see us all together. All three of her kids.” He gave me a tight smile.

  Clark scooted forward on the sofa. He perched on the edge, leaned his forearms on his thighs, and clasped his hands between his knees. I wasn’t sure if he was readying himself or us for his announcement. “Mom would like to know if you’re interested in staying a few days longer … at our house.”

  “Your house?” I didn’t dare look at Willie, even though I was dying to know if he was just as surprised.

  “Yes. We have plenty of room. It’s just me and Mom. Grady lives with Cathy Morgan and her son out near the Brown place.”

  The invitation took me by surprise. Staying longer was part of my plan. Getting to the bottom of the murder of Frankie McKenna/Les Morgan was part of my plan. Staying with my mother and half brother was not. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Family or not, they were strangers, and I hadn’t decided yet if they were friendly or murderous. And I wasn’t just thinking about the body in the corn maze. My mother’s home could be toxic on many levels.

  Clark continued on his mission. “Mom specifically said she wanted you at the house.” He turned to Willie. “We have room for you, too, Will.”

  Willie had a look of eager attentiveness splashed across his face. I knew that look. It was the look of a boy looking at a new toy—the kind of toy that made messes and involved small explosions.

  “That’s very kind of you, Clark. Like I said, I have some business in upstate New York, but I can probably stay a day or so longer.”

  If I hadn’t been afraid of Clark catching me, I would have shot Willie a rude facial gesture. What in the hell was he thinking? It was one thing for me to stay with my mother and Clark, but for Willie it
could be dangerous. Unless, of course, he was doing it just to be a wise-ass. A nationally known fugitive staying in the home of the chief of police—Willie’s personal “screw you” to law enforcement. If Willie came with me, I’d be a nervous wreck, even if he was cool as a cucumber.

  “Though,” Willie added, “as much as I appreciate your generous offer, Clark, I’d prefer to stay here at the inn. A lot of my business is international, and I’m up all hours on the phone and computer.”

  “What kind of business are you in, Willie?”

  “Venture capital mostly.”

  Quickly, I added, “I can vouch for his odd hours. Willie’s very nocturnal.” Inside, I relaxed a bit, at least about Willie being under Clark’s roof.

  “Great,” proclaimed Clark with a faux enthusiasm that was epidemic in the room. “Then it’s all settled. You’ll both stay a few extra days, and Odelia will come to our home.”

  I shook my head. “I still don’t know, Clark. I’m not sure it’s such a great idea for Mom and me to be thrown together like that. It’s a whole lot different than a short visit in the hospital.”

  Although, I reminded myself silently, it might be a great way to get her to talk further about the murder. But on the other hand, I might not be able to come and go as I pleased, which would make talking to witnesses pretty difficult. There was both an upside and a downside to the arrangement, even without Clark and Grady on the suspects short list.

  “It will be fine, Odelia, you’ll see.” I wasn’t sure if Clark was trying to convince me or himself. “Mom really wants to spend time with you. And you’ll be doing me a big favor.”

  Both Willie and I looked to the chief for an explanation.

  “Considering what’s happened, I’m not sure Mom should be left alone too much. I have work to do and so does Grady. You could watch her for us during the day while the two of you catch up.”

  “Tell you what, Clark,” I said, looking directly at him so I wouldn’t be tempted to glance Willie’s way. “Let me think about it and talk to my husband again. He has his heart set on me coming home tomorrow. But even if I stay a few extra days, I’m not sure I want to be stuck at home babysitting Mom. After all, it’s been thirty-four years, and she’s not exactly Mother of the Year.”

  Clark got up to go. “Understood. But please come by the house tomorrow around one, whether you stay or go.” He cast a look at Willie. “Both of you. Mom wants us all together for a Labor Day cookout. Considering the latest turn of events, I doubt it will be very festive. Not even sure if Cathy and Grady will be there. But people have to eat.” He turned his haggard face my way. “If you decide to take us up on staying at the house, just bring your things then.”

  “My plane leaves at four thirty, but let me see what I can do.”

  “Okay,” I said to Willie after Clark had gone on his merry way with my promise to consider postponing my trip home. Of course, I’d already done that, but there was no sense letting him know. “What was that all about?”

  “I think your mother wants to spend time with you.” He grinned at me. “You must have charmed the support hose off her at the hospital.”

  “I’m talking about you. For a minute, I thought you were going to take Clark up on his offer.”

  We were in my room. I’d just explained my theory on the smeared blood to him, and he was looking at the enlargements on the laptop.

  “I did think about it. Might be interesting.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Don’t worry about me, little mama. Last year I dated an assistant DA for two months before she caught on that I wasn’t who I said I was.” He winked at me while he scrutinized a photo.

  “Clark could figure it out, too. And probably in less time.”

  “What about you? You didn’t exactly jump up and start packing your bags.”

  “And I’m not sure I’m not going to, even though I’d already decided to stay a few more days. Until we know what’s happening with the Littlejohn brothers, it could be walking into a death trap.”

  Willie looked up at me, his face screwed in deep thought. “I’m not so sure. Being there might be the safest place for you.”

  “Huh?”

  “If the cops are involved, they aren’t going to do anything to someone in their own home. If they aren’t, it’s doubtful whoever did will go there unless they are really cocky. I mean, it is the home of the chief of police.”

  He went back to looking at the computer. “Problem is, it would be more difficult for me to keep tabs on you when we’re not staying in the same place.”

  “I don’t need you to keep tabs on me.”

  “Uh-huh.” Willie didn’t take his eyes off the screen. “My guess is, Clark would have liked to see you on that plane tomorrow, but dear old Mom wanted otherwise.”

  “He knows I saw Mom today, and he wasn’t pleased about it. Guess who told him?”

  “Better not be that orderly. Otherwise, I’m asking for a refund.”

  “It was Brenda. She was watching the hospital when Clark left with Mom tonight.”

  Willie shook his head. “That little girl’s everywhere, isn’t she? If she doesn’t watch out, she’s going to annoy someone who’s not as nice as we are about it.”

  Another thought crossed my mind. “Willie, do you ever Google people?”

  He laughed. “All the time. I even Google myself on occasion. Everyone does.”

  “Not everyone.” I pulled a chair up close to the computer and sat down. “That’s how Clark found out about my past activities. If there was any story linking you with me, he might have discovered that, too. If that’s the case, it won’t take him long to become suspicious.”

  “I’ve never seen any connection between the two of us anywhere. Believe me, I’ve checked that thoroughly.”

  I thought about Clark’s call to Dev. “But if he discovers who you are, he might trace it back to Dev Frye. We can’t have that.”

  “No, we can’t. But it won’t get traced back to Dev.” Willie stopped fiddling with the computer. “Don’t worry, little mama. Even if Clark figures out who I am, he’ll think either you or Greg contacted me. That’s our story, and we’re sticking to it. The good detective won’t even come up. I promise you.”

  I hoped Willie was right. Tomorrow was going to be very interesting, that’s for sure. The thought of going to that house made me feel like I was going into a lion’s cage without a whip or a chair.

  “You know,” said Willie, back to eyeballing the photos, “I think you and Greg are on to something here. I think the old lady is definitely smearing the prints on the pole. Very clever of her.”

  I sat down in one of the chairs by the window. I was bone tired but not sleepy.

  Willie turned his attention away from the computer. “And I think I’m on to something, too.”

  “That’s right,” I said perking up. “How was your date?”

  “As fruitful as I expected it to be, but without the happy ending.” He laughed. “As soon as I got your message, I made quick apologies and took off, worried I’d find the chief stringing you up by your toes.”

  “I’m sorry, Willie.”

  “Not to worry, little mama.” He winked at me. “There’s always tomorrow night.”

  “Let’s just cut to the fruitful part, shall we?”

  “You ever hear anything about your nutty family having money?”

  I sat up at attention. “Money? As in serious money?”

  “As in kooky, hidden-under-the-mattress-or-buried-in-coffee- cans money.”

  “What?” I nearly catapulted out of my chair.

  “My new lady friend told me that Leland Littlejohn was quite eccentric. Local legend has it that he supposedly invented something and sold the rights to a major company many, many years ago and squirreled his money away somewhere.”

  In my head, I replayed what my mother had said about Leland. “My mother said Leland Littlejohn was an engineer with a large company. That might fit with the
invention theory. He was also a gay man living in secret. Although his sons knew, it sounded like no one else in the community did.”

  “I think that would have come up in tonight’s conversation if the town knew about that. In a town like this, that would be big news—big enough to remember and pass along. Maybe not about a young man today, but fifty years ago, it would not have been accepted.”

  Willie opened his cell phone and made a call. When the other party answered, he asked them to run a search on Leland Littlejohn and on Les, Lester, or Leslie Morgan. At the last minute, he threw in the name Brenda Bixby.

  I played with my hair, pulling an end into my mouth, a bad habit I had as a kid and still did from time to time. “Leland gave my mother money for having Clark, or at least a settlement when she divorced him and went on her way. That couldn’t have been cheap, even then. Especially since it also bought her silence about his homosexuality.” I brushed my hair out of my mouth. “But what does that have to do with the murder?”

  “Not sure, but Sybil—that’s the Blue Lobster waitress—told me that Cathy Morgan has been trying to worm her way into the Littlejohn family for quite a while. Sybil suspects it’s because of the rumor about money—she said Cathy would latch on to anyone with a healthy bank account. Problem is, she can never get them as far as marriage.”

  Willie got up from the computer and settled in at the other chair. “Sybil also said a few years ago Cathy had a thing for Clark Littlejohn.”

  “Clark? But those two can’t stand each other. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” Then I remembered the blush on Cathy’s face at the produce stand.

  “Maybe not now, but I was told that Clark and Cathy met quite frequently in a corner booth at the bar.”

  I tried to envision the middle-aged Clark with the red-headed spitfire and couldn’t. And it wasn’t just the age difference.

  “You sure about this?”

  “It wasn’t just Sybil who told me this. A couple of bar regulars were happy to back it up. Said Clark and Cathy were carrying on at a local motel all the while she was seeing someone else.”

  “Cathy, a gold digger? Seems a strange place to mine for other people’s money, doesn’t it? I’ve seen my mother’s house. It’s very nice but modest.”