Guns, Wives and Chocolate

by Sally Berneathy

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I can’t believe you got that creep to agree to talk to us,” I said as soon as Grace’s door closed behind us. “What kind of story did you give him? Who are we going to be tonight?”

  “Dumford’s out for the evening. We’re going to talk to his wife.”

  I almost fell going down the porch steps.

  Fred grabbed my arm. “Are you okay?”

  “He has a wife?” Yuck!

  “And two daughters.”

  I stared at Fred in disbelief. “This man is a drug lord, but he has a wife and family?”

  He urged me across the street to his 1968 white Mercedes waiting in his driveway. “Have you forgotten that Chuck had several wives and would have had a son if he’d lived a few days longer?”

  “I know, but...never mind. This should be interesting. How did you get his wife to agree to talk to us?”

  “I haven’t spoken with Mrs. Dumford.”

  “Then how do you know her husband’s out for the evening?”

  “Technology.”

  Technology? Did that mean he’d spied on Howdy? Eavesdropped? Had a psychic vision? No, that last wouldn’t utilize technology.

  We reached his car and he opened the passenger door for me.

  I got in.

  He closed it…gently, firmly, quietly.

  Fred’s always a gentleman. I’m certain he would open and close the car door for me even if he weren’t worried I’d slam it or get chocolate on the handle.

  He got into the driver’s seat and backed down the driveway in a completely straight line.

  “If you didn’t talk to his wife, how did you make an appointment for us to meet with her?”

  We proceeded down the street, at all times maintaining equal distance between the curb and the white line.

  “Had I asked for a meeting, she likely would have refused. It will be more difficult for her to turn us away in person.”

  “So we’re going to show up on her front porch, unannounced, and you’re going to scam her into telling us about her husband’s drug business. That’s the plan?”

  “That’s the general idea but we’ll lead into it with a little more subtlety.”

  “How do we do that? You want me to talk to her woman to woman, offer my chocolate chip cookie recipe in exchange for her favorite meth recipe?”

  “I doubt the subject will come up, but if it does, feel free to discuss cooking with her.”

  Fred doesn’t always understand sarcasm.

  “Does that mean I’m going to be Lindsay who makes chocolate for the masses?”

  “Tonight you’re my daughter, Carly. You’re moving to town and want to get your daughter in school with the Dumfords’ daughters.”

  I groaned. “Are you sure I want to do that to my daughter? Am I mad at her or something?”

  He pulled up in front of a two-story house in an upscale neighborhood on the Kansas side. It looked like the home of a banker or a lawyer, not Howdy Doody, the drug dealer.

  “It’s so normal.”

  “Like the home of a successful insurance salesman?”

  “An insurance salesman? Is he as successful a salesman as Chuck was?”

  “Yes. Which, of course, begs the question as to how he can afford this house and private school for the kids. His wife doesn’t work.”

  Together we went up the sidewalk that bisected the well-manicured lawn. Not as well-manicured as Fred’s, but close. This lawn was probably cared for by a professional service whereas Fred has those elves.

  “What if Howdy comes home unexpectedly while we’re here? Are you packing heat?”

  “Are you?”

  I patted my shoulder bag which held my purple stun gun. “Yep.”

  We ascended the steps to the front porch and Fred pressed the doorbell.

  Chimes sounded from inside the house.

  A woman opened the door. “Can I help you?” Her medium-length blond hair and subdued makeup were perfect. She wore beige ankle pants and a matching blouse. She was every inch a competent, in-charge Johnson County housewife. Every inch, but not every millimeter. Something was off. Her pale eyes held a hint of uncertainty. The silk blouse revealed a slight slump to her shoulders. An invisible air of insecurity wafted from her. I’d seen all those signs before…when I first met Paula.

  Was Howdy Doody abusive? That would not surprise me.

  Fred extended his hand. “You must be Laurie Dumford. Gaylord’s told us all about you. I’m Henry Benton, and this is my daughter, Carly. Carly went to school with your husband, and I taught both of them history in the ninth grade.”

  Laurie made no move to take Fred’s outstretched hand. “Henry Benton?” she repeated. “I don’t believe my husband has mentioned you.”

  “We apologize for dropping by like this,” I said. “We were in the neighborhood, and I just wanted to stop and say hi to my old friend.”

  Laurie didn’t look at all reassured by my friendliness. “My husband can’t see you right now. He’s…busy.”

  Had Fred been wrong about Howdy’s absence or was his wife lying?

  Fred was never wrong. And Laurie hadn’t actually said he wasn’t home, just that he was busy.

  “I remember Gaylord when he was a little boy,” Fred said. “He came to birthday parties at our house. Carly, do you remember the year he fell out of our big old elm tree?”

  “I sure do, Daddy. He cried like a baby.”

  Fred chuckled. Fred laughs, but he never giggles or chuckles in real life, only when he’s playing a role. “You two were barely more than babies at the time. Hard to believe you’re both grown up now with families of your own.”

  Laurie gave a tight half-smile. She didn’t appear amused at the hilarious story.

  “Carly’s right,” Fred said. “We should have called first. My daughter was so eager to talk to you…” He started to turn away.

  “To me?” Laurie took the bait.

  “About the school your daughters go to. Carly heard a lot of good things about the school from a mutual friend. Now that she’s moving up here from Lassiter, Arkansas, she wanted to check into it for my granddaughter.”

  Fred had just made himself a grandfather. He was never going to hear the end of this.

  “Good old Lassiter High,” I said. I’d been a nerd in school, but this was my chance to rewrite history. “I was a cheerleader. Daddy took me to every game.”

  Laurie studied us closely. The detail of Howdy’s hometown in Arkansas seemed to reassure her slightly. “My daughters go to Messianic Resurrection. It’s a good school. I highly recommend it. I’ll tell my husband you came by.” She took a step backward into the house.

  “We were hoping you could give us a few more details about the school,” Fred said. “Since Carly and her husband will be new to the area—”

  “Daddy, we have to tell her the truth,” I interrupted. For once, I knew more than Fred about what would hook this woman. “My husband isn’t coming with me. I’m divorcing him. I need to know the details of any school I send my daughter to.” I lowered my gaze and my voice. “I need to know she’ll be safe.”

  Laurie gasped. “Did your husband hurt your daughter?”

  “Not yet. Most of his anger was directed at me, but I knew it was only a matter of time.” I took Fred’s arm and looked up at him. “Thank goodness Daddy was able to rescue me.”

  He patted my hand. “I’ll always take good care of my daughter and granddaughter.”

  Laurie licked her lips and looked up then down the street. Expecting her husband to return or checking to be sure the neighbors weren’t watching her talk to strangers of dubious origin? “If you want to come in for a few minutes, I can give you some details about the school…phone numbers and who to talk to.”

  I clasped my hands and looked grateful. “Thank you.” I felt a tiny bit guilty at scamming this woman who seemed nice. But she was married to a scumbag.

  Not that I had any room to criticize. I’d been married t
o Rickhead.

  The place had a tiled entryway, high ceilings, and a staircase off to one side. But even with several lamps, it was dark. Brown curtains covered all the windows, blocking the sunlight, keeping the outside world out and the inhabitants trapped inside. The carpet was taupe or maybe brown. Hard to tell in that light. The beige sofa matched the two chairs. The lamps matched each other. Sophie, with her decorating skills, would have choked from the excruciating boredom.

  Fred and I sat on the beige sofa.

  “I’ll get that information and be right back.” Laurie left the room.

  “Howdy isn’t here,” I whispered. “I’d be able to smell him if he was.”

  Fred rolled his eyes. He does that a lot. Good exercise.

  Laurie returned with a brochure and handed it to me. “This has addresses and phone numbers. It’s a small, faith-based school with excellent security and students from good families. Your daughter won’t be around ruffians and people like that.”

  Ruffians and people like…drug dealers? Who needed to go to school for that when they could find it right at home?

  “You have a lovely house,” Fred lied. “Gaylord’s done well. I always had so much respect for him, the way he came back after his problems in high school.”

  Laurie blinked in confusion. “His...problems?”

  Fred waved a hand in a negligent gesture. “All part of the past. He’s got his own business, lovely home, lovely family.”

  Laurie’s taut features relaxed slightly at the compliment. “Thank you.”

  “Where are your daughters? I was hoping we’d get to meet them.”

  “They’re upstairs in their rooms, studying.”

  Fred chuckled again. “My granddaughter’s a lot more rambunctious than your daughters. Zoe’s ten. How old are your girls?”

  “They’re eight and ten.”

  Something told me Fred had not picked his granddaughter’s age at random.

  “How wonderful,” he said. “Zoe will be in the same class as Gaylord’s daughter. Maybe some of your daughter’s manners will rub off on her.”

  Laurie’s features relaxed another tenth of a degree. “Hannah will be a good influence.” Relaxed enough she actually called her daughter by name. “It’s not easy to raise children in this world. The church and the school help, and my husband has very strict rules.”

  Her husband still didn’t have a name. Was it sacrilegious to speak his name? Or dangerous, like Voldemort?

  “My estranged husband had strict rules too. If…” What the heck was my daughter’s name? “If Zoe or I disobeyed, he got really mad.”

  Laurie looked away, toward the curtained windows. “God made man the head of the family. Someone has to make the rules or the family unit won’t hold together.”

  She spoke the words by rote, words she’d probably memorized after hearing them repeated to her over and over.

  I leaned forward. I wanted to say, God never told me that. But I had to play the game. “I don’t think God meant when men are on drugs.”

  She gasped and took a step backward. “Did your husband take drugs?”

  “Meth.” I spread my hands in a helpless gesture. “Who knew when he went off to work in the morning, he was really going to a meth house? The money was good until he got addicted to his own product.” Fred isn’t the only one who can make up stories on the fly. I dropped my head and sighed dramatically.

  “How awful. You’re doing the right thing, putting your daughter into a faith-based school where she’ll be safe from bad influences.”

  My daughter would be a bad influence.

  “Absolutely,” Fred agreed. “You’re so lucky to have Gaylord. He doesn’t even drink now, does he? He’s turned his life around so well, become a good husband and father.”

  Laurie blinked again when Fred threw out the second reference to Dumford’s checkered past. “He’s a good man. He’s a deacon in our church.”

  Déjà vu! Or, to be more precise, déjà entendre. I’d heard that from a couple of Chuck’s wives.

  Were these churches some weird religion that used meth to talk to God the way the hippies in the ’70s used LSD?

  “Your husband’s a busy man,” Fred continued in a phony, obsequious voice, “working at his insurance company all day, helping the church, and raising his beautiful family. I’m sure he couldn’t do it without your support.”

  “You said my husband had problems in high school.” Her voice was scarcely louder than a whisper. “What kind of problems?”

  “The usual. You know how boys are at that age.” He chuckled for the third time. “And girls. Carly’s mother died when Carly was six so I had to raise her on my own. The teenage years can be difficult. Your girls are lucky to have a mother and a father around to guide them.”

  He stood.

  So did I.

  Were we leaving already? We hadn’t learned anything.

  Fred held out his hand to shake. This time Laurie took it. “On second thought, there’s no need to tell your husband we came by. He might feel bad that he missed us.”

  She nodded slowly.

  Was he hypnotizing her?

  “He’s not here, is he?” Fred asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Is he doing volunteer work at church?”

  She nodded again. “He’ll be back by midnight. He’s always back by midnight.”

  Fred released her hand. “So nice to meet you, Mrs. Dumford.”

  We walked out into the gathering shadows and chilly air.

  Neither of us spoke until we were in Fred’s car.

  “That was enlightening though not surprising,” I said. “Figures Howdy Doody would be an abuser. What was all that about his bad boy days? Did you make that up?”

  “Of course not.” Fred turned the key, and the Mercedes engine purred to life. He eased the car smoothly along the street, into the dusk of evening. “Dumford was quite the party boy in Arkansas. That’s why he had to leave. He had a decent job in construction, but he partied too much. Got into drugs. Gambled too much. Borrowed money from the wrong people. Eleven years ago, he moved to Kansas City, joined the church where he met Laurie, and turned his life around.”

  “He went from taking drugs to dealing them? What kind of turnaround is that?”

  He eased around a corner on all four wheels. “I didn’t say it was a good kind of turnaround, but he got his debts paid. Now he has a house, a family, and he volunteers at the church.”

  “It’s kind of creepy that Chuck and Dumford were both church members. I don’t suppose there’s anything in the Bible that prohibits making or selling meth, but it seems a little wrong.”

  “I did think it something of a coincidence that all his wives lived in towns with a prison nearby.”

  What?

  I wasn’t going to admit I had no idea what he was talking about. “Yeah, me too.”

  I tried to recall the hometowns of the various wives. Stella was from Moberly, Missouri. Becky was from McAlester, Oklahoma. Anita…I couldn’t remember the rest. It hadn’t seemed important at the time. Kansas, Oklahoma, Iowa, and Nebraska. I could research but it would be easier to take Fred’s word for it.

  Besides, I had no idea where he was going with that data. The wives would be able to visit if Chuck went to prison for dealing drugs. Would he be able to get transfers from one prison to another since he had more than one wife to be close to?

  Fred did not expound. He knew I was bluffing, that I had no idea what he was talking about.

  “All right, I give up. What does the prison connection have to do with anything?”

  “I suspect we’ll find that each of the churches Chuck attended has a strong prison ministry. Quite a clever way to smuggle drugs into prisons.”

  Yikes.

  A little blasphemous, but clever.

  “You’re missing one wife,” I said. “There’s no prison near Grace’s home town, Crappie Creek.”

  “She and Chuck moved to Kansas City. There are
quite a few detention centers around here.”

  “Maybe he married Grace because he loved her and he never intended to use her for his drug business.”

  “Maybe.”

  “It was nice of you to bail her out of jail today.”

  “She has no priors. I got her released on her own recognizance.”

  “You got her released on her own recognizance on a murder charge?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s unusual.” I could have said, That’s unheard of, but obviously it was heard of in Fred’s world.

  “It depends.”

  I let it go. He wasn’t going to reveal any secrets. Just as well. I already knew too many secrets.

  We rode in silence the rest of the way home. Fred doesn’t talk a lot anyway, and I was busy thinking. Being released on her own recognizance meant Grace could leave town, run away, hide, and it was unlikely any bounty hunters would track her down because there would be no money in it for them. I hoped she didn’t know that. I hoped we would find the real murderer before that became necessary.

  Chapter Fourteen

  My house and Fred’s house were dark when we pulled into his driveway.

  Grace’s was aglow.

  That truck still sat in the street.

  “We’ve got to help her.” I tried to make the words come out as a positive statement rather than an uncertain question.

  “Who?”

  “Grace. Those people are going to take advantage of her.”

  “How?”

  “I’m not positive exactly how, but I don’t trust them. Maybe they expect her to send them checks like Chuck did. Maybe they think she has a lot of money.”

  “She doesn’t so she can’t send very many or very large checks. The way she’s guarding whatever cash Chuck left behind, I doubt she’s going to share with them anyway.” He unbuckled his seatbelt.

  “You don’t understand. They played the family card. Grace wants a family, and they’ve moved in on her. They may never leave!”

  “And what are we supposed to do about that?”

  Fred was asking me what we were going to do? I had no idea. “Just get your air mattress and meet me over there.”