Guns, Wives and Chocolate

by Sally Berneathy

  He scowled. The expression looked silly when combined with the wig and glasses. “If you know all that, why hasn’t Dumford been arrested already?”

  Because Fred had just come up with the theory the day before. “We like him for Chuck’s murder.” We being my ego and me. It was not my fault if George interpreted we to mean the cops and me. “We’d like to get evidence of both crimes before we move on him.”

  George didn’t react.

  “You could probably get a much better deal if you helped us find proof he’s a murderer,” I said.

  “I don’t know nothing about a murder.”

  I did that thing Fred and Trent do when questioning a suspect…waited quietly until he blurted out something.

  It didn’t work for me. George waited quietly too.

  “Think that would be something you could help us with?” I finally asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. You think Dumford killed Chuck? Why would he do that?”

  This conversation wasn’t working out the way I’d hoped. “I…we thought at first he killed him because Chuck skimmed money from him, but you said you lied about that. Is it possible Chuck did steal money from Dumford, that your lie was true?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  I resisted the urge to yank off that stupid wig and zap his head with a million volts of electricity until his brain came to life. “Not good enough. We need something to go on. Did Chuck and Dumford fight?”

  “How do I know? I’ve been in the joint for the last six years.”

  “You said Dumford wanted to come to your party so he could talk to Chuck. Why didn’t he just call him? Show up at his door? Invite him over for dinner?”

  George scratched his temple and tried to straighten the wig. He only made it worse. “I don’t know.”

  I waited.

  That time it worked.

  “Chuck wanted out of the business. Dumford wanted him to stay in. He couldn’t find anybody to replace him. Chuck had a lot of connections. He was Dumford’s biggest distributor. Dumford’s stuck with a lot of product he needs to get out there.”

  “Oh?” A brilliant, fully-formed idea burst onto the frontal lobe of my brain. Fred would be so impressed. “What if I could persuade Grace to take over Chuck’s territory?”

  “Grace? You think she’d agree to deal? She don’t seem like the type.”

  Of course I didn’t think she’d agree to deal drugs. But maybe she’d pretend to be interested if it meant we could get Howdy Doody to confess to Chuck’s murder. “I’ll talk to her. We’re buddies.” At one time.

  George considered it for a moment then shook his head. “She’s only one wife. Dumford needs more connections than that.”

  “We’ve connected with the other wives.” In a way. “Grace has close connections with some of them.”

  “She has? That’s strange.”

  Connected. There’s an ambiguous word with lots of different meanings. Grace and Stella had been in a physical fight. Grace and Alinn had been in a verbal fight. Those are connections.

  “Strange things happen. Deal with it. I’ll talk to Grace and get this set up with her, then you need to deliver Dumford to her house. After that, I’ll turn you over to Trent.”

  He clenched his fists. “I want to talk to the cop now.” Big, hairy hands protruding from the sleeves of a dress failed to convey any real threat.

  “And I want to drive a Porsche 911 and never get a speeding ticket.” I took my phone from my pocket. “What’s your number?”

  George’s bushy eyebrows lowered, and the wig crept halfway down his forehead. “You promise you’ll get me a deal with Trent?”

  “Maybe Dumford will confess to murder, then he’ll get the gas chamber and you’ll never have to worry about him again.”

  He gave me his number. I punched it into my phone and hit call.

  He jumped then took his vibrating phone from his pocket.

  I ended the call.

  “Now you have my number and I have yours. Call me after you talk to Dumford.”

  Everything was falling into place. All I had to do was convince Grace to pretend to want to deal drugs. Okay, first I had to convince her to speak to me again.

  I also had to tell Fred about my plan. I was certain he’d be eager to help and amazed at my brilliance.

  And I probably needed to let Trent in on the scheme eventually.

  My plan had a few potential glitches.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I arrived home that afternoon with three bags of chocolate…one to bribe Grace, one to bribe Fred, and one for my personal consumption. Taking down a murderer is stressful. All parties require a lot of chocolate.

  The Mayfields’ old truck was still parked in front of Grace’s house.

  A chilly wind greeted me when I got out of the car. It came from the direction of that truck.

  Not really, of course. March in Kansas City brings days of sunshine and days of cold winds. The direction of the wind was a coincidence.

  A black wall of clouds in the west suggested we might get rain, perhaps a storm, maybe even a tornado.

  Or perhaps I was projecting my tempestuous thoughts onto the weather.

  I went inside, fed Henry, then headed over to Grace’s with one bag of chocolate. No point in talking to Fred until I made sure Grace would go along with the plan.

  She opened the door as soon as I knocked.

  “Lindsay!” She threw her arms around me. “I’m so sorry I was mean to you!”

  Step One, convincing her to talk to me, had concluded successfully.

  I hugged her back then held up the bag. “I brought chocolate! There’s a big piece of cake in here and a couple of cookies.”

  She burst into tears and hugged me again. “You’re such a good friend! Rickie loves your cookies!”

  I disentangled myself and looked around. Her house showed signs of progress…fewer boxes, more personal items such as candles and a bright bouquet of silk flowers. “Is Rickie still hiding in his room?”

  “He’s at school. I took him this morning. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, but I thought I should try to make his life as normal as possible while I’m still…” She gulped. “While I’m still free.”

  “About that…” I cleared my throat. “Let’s sit down.”

  We both looked at the sofa. “In the kitchen.”

  “Good idea.”

  We passed the exact spot where I zapped George. A pleasant memory.

  I set the bag on the table and took a seat while Grace got Cokes for both of us. She remembered to put in the Coke before the ice. I made a difference in someone’s life.

  She sat across from me and heaved a big sigh. “You were right.”

  “About the ice? Something I learned from years of drinking Cokes.”

  “No, the Mayfields. Rickie didn’t like them either. He said I ought to thank you for getting them out of here.”

  One more thing Rickie and I agreed on. Scary.

  I took the containers of cake and cookies out of my bag and set them on the table. “I have a plan to make that charge of murder against you go away.”

  “Did you find me a lawyer? I can pay for a good one.”

  “Better than a lawyer.” I slid the desserts across the table toward her. “I’ve got a plan to catch the real murderer.” I took a plastic fork from the bag and handed it to her. “Try the cake.”

  She hesitated then had a bite. “That’s the best chocolate cake I’ve ever eaten.”

  “Thank you. George is going to tell Dumford that you want to take Chuck’s place in the drug distribution thing, then—”

  She stopped with the second bite of cake halfway to her mouth. “What?”

  “Keep eating.”

  She hesitated but couldn’t resist my cake.

  While her mouth was full of chocolate, I continued. “You’re going to pretend to be interested so we can get him over here and question him.”

  She shook her head.


  “Have another bite of cake.”

  She set her fork on the table. “I don’t think I can do that.”

  “Yes, you can.” I took a cookie from the other container and offered it to her. “Don’t you want to see Chuck’s murderer brought to justice?”

  She accepted the cookie. “When?”

  “I don’t know. Soon. George is going to call me when he gets the meeting set up.”

  “You’ll be with me?”

  “Of course. And Fred will too.” I added a silent probably. “I’m going to talk to him right now.”

  Grace hesitated only a moment. “Okay. I got to leave now to pick up Rickie from school, but I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  That would give me time to talk to Fred.

  We walked outside together. Grace got her car from the garage in the side yard and drove away.

  I had to pass the Mayfields’ truck again to get across the street. Would they come back for it or would Grace have to call the city to haul it away?

  How long would they stay with Alinn before she wised up and kicked them out? Or before they wised up and left her?

  The truck was a blemish on our lovely street, but at least those people were no longer at Grace’s.

  I dashed home, grabbed Fred’s bag of chocolate, and went to his door.

  He answered my knock immediately. “Please come in. I have an Australian Shiraz that will compliment your chocolate cake.”

  I didn’t ask how he knew I had chocolate cake in the bag.

  I went inside and set my bag on his coffee table beside the dessert plates.

  “George came to the restaurant today dressed as a woman because he’s afraid Dumford is going to kill him. Grace is going to pretend to want to deal drugs to lure him over here, and I need you to be there.”

  Fred poured two glasses of wine and handed one to me. “Take a deep breath. Drink some wine. Relax.” He opened the bag and divided the contents between the two plates. “This is my favorite chocolate cake.”

  We were off to a good start.

  I took a deep breath and a sip of wine. It was delicious. A punch of full flavor that lingered on the tongue with spicy notes.

  Not really. I read that on the Internet. I only knew it tasted good.

  I told Fred about my adventure with George and my plan to lure Dumford to Grace’s house and get him to confess to murder.

  “I see,” he said.

  I took another drink of wine and waited for the congratulations, the applause, the appreciation of my brilliance.

  “How will you get him to confess?” he asked.

  “I thought I should leave something for you to do. I don’t want you to feel left out.”

  “Thank you. I have also had an interesting day. I helped Laurie and her daughters find a shelter for abused women. She’s left her husband.”

  “Good for her!” I held up my glass in a salute, then slowly lowered my glass. “Oh. That may have an effect on our plan.”

  “You may find it difficult to get him over here. He will likely be running around the city searching for his wife and daughters. I don’t think he’s the type to give up any of his possessions easily.”

  “Does he know yet?”

  Fred consulted his watch. “Probably not. He doesn’t usually come home until after six.”

  I shot to my feet and grabbed my phone from the pocket of my jeans. “Probably? Usually? It’s not like you to be so indefinite!”

  “I didn’t know Dumford’s schedule would be of interest to you.”

  I found the call to George’s phone and hit redial.

  He answered immediately.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s me, your new partner in crime. Lindsay. Where are you?”

  “I’m on my way to meet Dumford and try to set up this cockamamie scheme of yours.”

  “Where are you meeting?” I tried not to sound panicked. “Is he going home first?”

  “Nah. We’re going to the church. That’s where he does business. He’s got a secret room in the basement where he keeps the product.”

  “This cockamamie scheme of mine has to take place tonight. Dumford’s wife left him.”

  A stream of curse words followed. George’s grammar wasn’t all that great, but he had a large vocabulary of swear words. I made note of a couple I’d never heard before so I could use them the next time I slammed a drawer on my finger or stubbed my toe.

  “Are you swearing because Dumford’s wife left him or because we need to execute the plan immediately?” I asked.

  He blew out a long sigh. “Both. The last time Laurie tried to leave him, he went on a tear. Couldn’t get anything done till he found her.” He hesitated a second. “He beat her so bad she had to go in the hospital. He’s got a temper. We need to get him out of the way fast. Tonight. Before he hears about Laurie.”

  “Get him to Grace’s house. We’ll do the rest.”

  “I’ll let you know what time. Be sure your boyfriend’s there.”

  He hung up.

  I slid my phone back into my pocket and looked at Fred. “He beats her.”

  “She mentioned the physical abuse as well as the verbal, but she didn’t elaborate. She’s conflicted. She’s very religious, and Dumford tells her it’s God’s will that she stay with her husband no matter what.”

  I twisted one side of my lip in a sneer. “God didn’t tell me that.”

  “Nor did He tell me. Last time we chatted, He was quite clear that He did not approve of such behavior.”

  “Usually when somebody tells me he had a dialogue with God, I tell him we have drugs for that, but I kind of believe you.”

  Fred neither confirmed nor denied my assertion. “Your plan to get Dumford in prison may be Laurie’s only chance to escape and lead a normal life.”

  He was in. That meant my plan had a chance of success.

  Now all I had to do was get Trent’s cooperation. All I had to do was break my promise to Grace and confess to everything I hadn’t been telling him over the last few days then convince him he should come over and eavesdrop on the meeting between Grace and George.

  There’s always a catch to the best of cockamamie schemes.

  “I guess I need to call Trent,” I said.

  “Yes, you do. Grace should be back with Rickie by the time you finish. We’ll have enough time to get him to Paula’s house.”

  “Paula’s house? You want to dump Rickie on her? I have to work with her!”

  “Do you have a better idea of what to do with him? Sophie’s working late tonight.”

  He knew Sophie’s work schedule. I didn’t, and I’m the neighborhood busybody. Evidence of their relationship?

  “I guess your basement’s not an option?” I asked.

  “You can call Paula when you finish speaking with Trent.”

  “Or I could call her now.” Says a lot about my dread of talking to Trent that I’d rather call Paula and ask her to babysit Rickie.

  She answered on the second ring.

  “How would you like me to be indebted to you for the next twenty years?” I asked.

  “I thought you already were.”

  “I probably am.” I couldn’t bribe her with chocolate. She was my official taster. She had all the chocolate she wanted. “I need a favor. I need you to babysit Rickie for an hour or two tonight.”

  She was silent for an hour…or maybe it was a couple of seconds. “All right.”

  “You will? Thank you!”

  “One condition.”

  “You want him delivered in handcuffs?”

  “Any bad habits he teaches Zach, you have to correct.”

  “Deal.” How hard could it be to make a four-year-old forget swear words or get him on Nicorette to kick cigarettes?

  I gave Fred a thumbs-up.

  Now all I had to do was talk to Trent.

  I stared at my phone.

  “You have to touch the screen to make it wo
rk,” Fred said.

  I felt a little thrill. Fred had learned something else from me. Sarcasm.

  “I have to work up to this,” I said.

  My phone vibrated. For an instant I thought it was making calls on its own.

  A text message had arrived.

  On way.

  George.

  I showed the message to Fred. “They’re on their way!”

  “You’ve run out of time to work up to your call with Trent.”

  My phone burst into the theme song from Game of Thrones, my generic ring tone. “Hello?”

  “It’s Grace. Rickie and I are home now. You hear any more about me pretending to be a drug dealer?”

  “Yes, the plan is a go. They’re on their way. Fred and I will be at your house in a few minutes.”

  “On their way? Tonight? Are you sure this will be okay? I’m a little nervous.”

  “It’s going to be fine. You can do it.” I decided to deliver the news of Rickie’s impending relocation in person. No need to increase her worry.

  I straightened my spine and called Trent.

  “Hi.” He had a smile in his voice.

  I didn’t want to take away that audible smile by telling him everything I hadn’t been telling him the last few days. Besides, with George and Dumford on their way, I didn’t have time for all that.

  “Hi. Got an anonymous tip for you. If you set up recording equipment outside Grace Mayfield’s house immediately, you’ll find out who killed Chuck. Love you! Bye! Oh, and you’ll get information about a church basement full of drugs. Bye!”

  I hung up.

  Fred rolled his eyes.

  My phone rang.

  Trent.

  “Answer it.”

  I wasn’t sure if the command came from Fred or my own mind or both.

  I answered.

  “Lindsay, whatever you’re up to, you can’t do it.”

  “You didn’t believe the anonymous call bit, huh?”

  “Anonymous tipsters don’t call from your phone and say they love me.”

  “It was worth a shot.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t have time to tell you. George Murray and Gaylord Dumford are on their way to Grace’s house right now.”