Black and Blueberry Die (A Fresh-Baked Mystery Book 11)

by Livia J. Washburn

  There were a few pictures of the paint and body shop and Brian Flynn, Danny’s business partner. One of them showed the two men with their arms around each other’s shoulders, grinning proudly into the camera. Judging by the date, Phyllis figured that was when the shop had opened. Roxanne had probably taken the picture.

  Phyllis studied Danny’s page for quite a while before admitting to herself that she wasn’t going to find anything worthwhile here. All it did was support Danny’s claim that he loved his wife and wouldn’t have hurt her.

  Maybe there would be a different story on Roxanne’s page, if it was still there, Phyllis thought as she began to search for it.

  Unfortunately, it appeared that Roxanne’s page had been deleted, if indeed she had had one. She was listed as his wife in his profile information, but it wasn't an active link. She wasn't tagged in any of Danny's posts that mentioned her or pictures that included her, so that was an indication she didn't have a page of her own. There were still people who weren’t on Facebook. Plenty in Phyllis’s generation, in fact, but some among younger folks, too.

  She searched Twitter, Snapchat, and Instagram for Roxanne Jackson and didn’t find anything, then it occurred to her that she didn’t know what Roxanne’s last name had been before she married Danny. Some women continued to use their maiden name, and that could be true on social media as well.

  She would have to find out about that, but in the meantime she went back to Facebook and decided to look up some of the other people involved in the case. She started with Brian Flynn.

  Again there were a number of people with that name, but within a few minutes Phyllis was able to find the right one and start backtracking through his posts. Brian had been pretty active on Facebook, reposting and sharing quite a few links to funny video clips and car-related topics. Like Danny, he had a clear fondness for hot rods and racing. Being a single man, however, Brian had posted numerous pictures of pretty girls, often scantily clad, draping themselves across the fenders of cars. Some were risque enough to make Phyllis blush.

  She noticed a gap in the dates of the posts and realized that it had occurred right after Roxanne’s murder. That made sense. The wife of his best friend had been murdered, and that best friend had been arrested for the crime. That was enough to make anybody forget about Facebook for a few days.

  Phyllis dug deeper and saw that Danny had liked and commented on a number of Brian’s posts. That wasn’t surprising, either. Danny had disappeared from Brian’s timeline after the murder, of course, since he was in jail.

  Then a black-and-white photo caught Phyllis’s eye. Brian hadn’t posted it. Someone named Roger Terrill had, but evidently he was friends with Brian because Brian was tagged in the post, causing it show up on his timeline. Phyllis could tell right away that the photograph had been scanned from an old high school yearbook. It showed three football players, in uniform but with their helmets off, standing on the sidelines of a football field, each with his arm around a pretty cheerleader who snuggled against him. All six people in the photo were smiling with the cheerful confidence of youth.

  Phyllis clicked on the picture to enlarge it and leaned forward to study it more intently. There was a caption under the photo identifying the teenagers in it. Phyllis didn’t need the caption to recognize Brian Flynn. The resemblance between the younger version of Brian and the way he looked now was unmistakable.

  The girl he had his arm around looked familiar, too. Phyllis’s gaze dropped to the caption and she caught her breath.

  “Whatcha doin’?” Sam asked from behind her.

  She straightened in the chair in front of the desk where the computer and monitor sat. Her finger pointed at the photograph on the screen.

  “That’s Brian Flynn when he was in high school,” Phyllis said. “And look who his girlfriend is.”

  Sam bent down to peer over her shoulder. He said, “Is that...?”

  “Her name in the caption is Roxanne Macrae,” Phyllis said. “But that’s her, no doubt about it. That’s Danny’s wife.”

  ••●••

  Armed with Roxanne’s maiden name, Phyllis began searching again. She still didn’t find a Facebook page under that name, but she was able to determine that Roxanne Macrae had graduated from Western Hills High School the same year as Brian Flynn—which was also the same year Mike and Danny had graduated from Weatherford.

  “You know, just because a football player has his arm around a cheerleader in a yearbook picture doesn’t mean they’re boyfriend and girlfriend,” Sam pointed out. “Pictures like that are staged all the time.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” Phyllis said. “But look at the caption: Lovebirds. The conclusion is pretty inescapable. Even if the picture was just staged for the yearbook, though, that doesn’t change the fact that Brian knew Roxanne from high school. In fact...” The wheels in Phyllis’s brain were starting to revolve faster now. “When we were talking to Brian, he referred to Roxanne as ‘Roxie’. That implies a certain degree of familiarity, doesn’t it? I don’t recall Danny referring to her that way, or anyone else we’ve talked to about this case.”

  “Danny didn’t use that name while you were talkin’ to him in jail,” Sam said. “He might’ve around friends, though, like Brian.”

  Phyllis nodded. “That’s true. You know what we’re going to have to do.”

  “Ask him?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Before you do that...if you’re right and the two of ’em dated in high school, it doesn’t necessarily have to have anything to do with what happened to Roxanne.”

  Phyllis knew Sam was playing devil’s advocate now, and she was grateful for that. Any theory she might form had to be tested over and over again, until there was no doubt in her mind that it was correct.

  “The whole thing could be a coincidence,” Sam went on. “Maybe Brian and Roxanne dated in high school, and then didn’t see each other for years, until Danny married her and introduced her to Brian like the two of ’em had never met before. I can sure see why both of ’em would keep quiet about that and not say anything to Danny, especially if things were serious between ’em back in the day.”

  “You mean if they slept together.”

  “That could be a mite uncomfortable,” Sam said. “For all three of them.”

  Phyllis sat back in the chair, her excitement ebbing a little. She had thought she was on to something, but Sam could be right. The whole thing could amount to an embarrassing coincidence, nothing more.

  “You’re right, but it still won’t hurt anything to find out for certain about the Roxie business.”

  “It sure won’t,” Sam said.

  Phyllis took out her phone and called Jimmy D’Angelo. She couldn’t just call the jail in Fort Worth and ask Danny a question, but as his lawyer, D’Angelo might be able to.

  When the attorney came on the phone, he said, “I’m glad you called, Phyllis. I was just wondering how you and Sam were coming along with the investigation.”

  “We’ve come across several things that might be related to Roxanne’s murder, but nothing that we can prove had anything to do with it.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I just got word that Danny’s going to be transferred to Huntsville next Tuesday.”

  “That’s less than a week from now,” Phyllis said. She felt the pressure increasing, like a vise tightening. It had to be a lot worse than that for Danny.

  “He’s been lucky it hasn’t happened before now,” D’Angelo said. “So if you’re going to come up with anything...”

  “You don’t have to tell me. It needs to be soon. Actually, I called because there’s something you might be able to help out on. Can you get Danny on the phone?”

  “Sure I can. I’m his lawyer. It might take a little while, but I can do it. Do you need me to ask him something?”

  “Yes,” Phyllis said. “Ask him if he ever called his wife Roxie.”

  D’Angelo was silent for a moment, then said, “You mean, like
a pet name for her or something like that?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And this is important to the case?”

  “It could be.”

  D’Angelo hesitated again, but only for a second. “All right. I’m curious, but I won’t ask you to explain right now. I’ll just take your word for it. You want me to call you back as soon as I find out anything?”

  “That would be fine.”

  “Okay. You’ll hear from me later this afternoon, I hope. Or possibly in the morning. But as soon as I know anything, you will, too.”

  “Thank you, Mr. D’Angelo.”

  “Not a problem. In the meantime...”

  “I’ll keep looking,” Phyllis promised.

  “That’s what I like to hear. So long.”

  Phyllis broke the connection and looked again at the yearbook picture of Brian Flynn and Roxanne Macrae. Their smiles were big and genuine, she thought, the smiles of two people in love.

  Just like Roxanne and Danny had looked in their pictures.

  Was one of those things a lie...and had it led to murder?

  Chapter 16

  Phyllis knew that when she had too much information whirling around inside her head, one of the best things she could do was to get away from it completely for a while. To that end, she turned off the computer monitor and retreated to the kitchen, where Carolyn had taken her chocolate cherry slab pie out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool. The smell wafting from it was still delicious.

  “Oh my, that is enormous.”

  Carolyn and Eve were sitting at the table drinking coffee. “I know. It took eight cups of flour just for the crust, but wouldn’t that be great for a party? I saw one in a magazine and I just had to try it.”

  Eve asked, “Where’s Sam?”

  “He went upstairs,” Phyllis said. She smiled. “It’s getting on toward his nap time. In fact, it’s probably a little past it.”

  “We could cut the pie while he’s sleeping,” Carolyn suggested with an uncharactically mischievous gleam in her eyes.

  “Deprive Sam of fresh pie?” Eve asked. “He’d never forgive you!”

  Phyllis poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down with them. “Well, it’s not like we could eat the whole thing.” She didn’t want to think about the case, so she steered the conversation to less grim topics. Eve was still full of stories about Hollywood, and she was glad to share more of them.

  If Phyllis had expected any blinding revelations to come on her, she would have been disappointed. Nothing else regarding the case had occurred to her by the time Sam came downstairs and joined them, sniffing the air.

  “I think that pie smells like it’s just about ready to cut,” he said.

  “You can tell that by the way it smells?” Carolyn asked.

  “Well...that and the way my stomach’s ready for it. Wait…that’s a pie?” He leaned slightly over the counter, looked down at the pie, pointed a finger at his midsection, and said in an odd accent, “Get in ma belly!”

  Carolyn and Eve looked at Phyllis, who shook her head and said, “I’m not even going to ask.”

  Carolyn stood up, made shooing motions at Sam, and said, “Get away from that pie. I’ll cut it. Although it’s really too close to supper time to be eating pie.”

  “We’ll eat light,” Sam said. “Don’t forget the ice cream.”

  Carolyn rolled her eyes and opened a drawer to get out a knife.

  To her apparent disgust, not only Sam but also Phyllis and Eve scooped ice cream onto their slices. “This is wonderful,” Phyllis proclaimed after a couple of bites.

  “It certainly is,” Eve declared. “You couldn’t find anything better at Schwab’s Drugstore in Hollywood. That’s where Lana Turner was discovered, you know.”

  “Mighty good,” Sam chimed in. “You’re gonna win that contest for sure, Carolyn.”

  “I don’t know about that,” she said, then admitted, “It is pretty good, isn’t it?”

  Phyllis had finished and was wondering just how undignified it would be to pick up the saucer and lick it, when the doorbell rang. She knew Sam was thinking about licking his saucer, too, only he was liable to do it. She stood up and said, “I’ll see who that is.”

  As she went into the living room, she looked through the front window and saw the sheriff’s department car parked at the curb. As always, that sight prompted a mixture of emotions inside her. The first thought that came to mind was that Mike had stopped by, and that pleased her.

  But that was followed inevitably by the possibility that something had happened to him, and someone had come to notify her. She knew he was in a profession that wasn’t dangerous most of the time—Mike liked to tell her about deputies he served with who had never drawn their guns in the line of duty, during long careers—but it could turn that way at any second, with little or no warning. That situation had grown worse in recent years, and so there was a low-level dread always present in the back of Phyllis’s mind when it came to her son’s safety.

  Because of that, a wave of relief went through Phyllis when she opened the door and saw Mike standing there on the porch, apparently hale and hearty.

  He had a worried frown on his face, though, instead of his normally cheerful expression, and that instantly made Phyllis worry, too.

  “What’s wrong, Mike?” she said as she stepped back to let him into the house. She knew she didn’t have to ask him in.

  He followed her into the foyer and said, “It’s Sarah’s mom. She’s in the hospital.”

  “Oh, dear. Is it serious?”

  “They don’t know yet,” Mike said with a shake of his head. “They’re running tests. But Sarah wants to go out to California to see her.”

  “Well, of course she does. Having lost her father, she’s bound to be really worried about her mother.”

  Sarah’s father had passed away about a year and a half earlier. At the time, Sarah had tried to talk her mother into moving back to Texas so she would be closer, but the woman wouldn’t hear of it. She’d been determined to continue living in California on her own. Although Phyllis had commiserated with her daughter about that, secretly she admired the decision. It took courage to live alone after having been in a long marriage. She knew that from experience. She hadn’t been able to do it, herself, but had rented out rooms in the big old house after Kenny’s death and created a surrogate family in Carolyn, Eve, and Sam.

  Mike went on, “The thing is, she wants me to go with her. She’s really scared that she’s going to lose her mom, too. I don’t know if it’s really that serious, but it could be, I guess.”

  “Can you get the time off?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got some personal days coming. That won’t be a big problem. But...”

  “Bobby,” Phyllis said.

  Mike made a face and said, “He just started kindergarten a few weeks ago, and he loves it. Sure, it wouldn’t do any real harm to pull him out for a few days, and I wouldn’t hesitate to do it if I thought the situation called for it, but at this point we really don’t know much.”

  “You want to know if he can stay here.”

  “It’s a lot to ask—”

  “No, it’s not,” Phyllis said. “This is what family is for, to step in and help whenever it’s needed. Of course I can look after him. We can look after him,” she added, knowing that the others would pitch in, too. “But if it does turn out to be serious...”

  “Then I’ll fly back here and get him, so he can see his other grandma one more time. I hope. Life doesn’t always give us those options. Anyway, that’s the way things stand now. If you’re sure you don’t mind...”

  Phyllis shook her head and said, “Of course not.” Another thought occurred to her. “Have you talked about this with Sarah, though? She might prefer that you take Bobby with you now.”

  “It was actually her idea that Bobby stay with you if you were all right with it. She doesn’t want to disrupt school for him, either. Don’t worry, we talked it all out and we’re in
agreement.” Mike smiled. “Anyway, you know how Sarah feels about you. She’d always trust Bobby with you, any time, anywhere. You’re almost as much her mom as her actual mom is.”

  “I’m glad she feels that way. She’s like a daughter to me, too.”

  “Now that that’s settled...is that fresh pie I smell?”

  “It’s Carolyn’s,” Phyllis said with a smile. “Come on in the kitchen. I’ll cut you a slice.”

  “Ohhh, you don’t know how much I really want to. But there’s not time. I need to get home, help Sarah round up everything Bobby will need, and then get him back over here. Then we’ll have to head for the airport and catch a flight this evening.”

  “All right. I’d promise to save a piece for you, for when you get back, but with Sam in the house...”

  Mike grinned and said, “I understand.” He leaned closer and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Mom.” He turned toward the door, then stopped abruptly. “I almost forgot! What about Danny?”

  “I’m still working on the case,” Phyllis said. “There’s nothing really solid to go on yet, but since you’re here...do you remember ever hearing Danny refer to his wife as Roxie?”

  “Roxie?” Mike repeated, his forehead creasing in a frown. “Nooo, I don’t think so. He always called her Roxanne when he mentioned her to me. But maybe that’s what he called her when they were alone, like I call Sarah—Never mind.”

  “Yes, you can keep whatever that is between the two of you,” Phyllis said.

  “What does that have to do with the murder?”

  “Probably nothing. Just a little puzzle. The two of them met in college, didn’t they?”

  “That’s right. Danny didn’t like college much. Said the only worthwhile thing he got out of it was a pretty wife.”

  “So they weren’t high school sweethearts or anything like that,” Phyllis said, even though she already knew that wasn’t the case.

  “No, Roxanne went to high school over in Fort Worth somewhere, I think. She wasn’t a Weatherford girl.”