“You say she was bad. Can you explain what you mean?” Joe thought he knew, but needed to hear it from the man.
“Something in that girl is rotten. Always wanted the best, even the wedding she demanded. Her parents put themselves in deep debt to make her happy, but it wasn’t enough, wasn’t to her liking. Ronny was disturbed over her behavior, but he was in love, couldn’t see the selfishness in her, at least not till later, when they moved to Detroit. He told us she wanted him to get money, no matter how he had to do it.”
“How long did he stay with you and your wife before moving to Madison?” Joe asked.
“Well, you see, we moved here after he graduated. Got a good deal on the place. Elizabeth had been in school here and had friends. When Ronny came to us, he stayed in the spare room, kept to himself, didn’t have any friends. After a couple of months, he found a job at a mechanic shop, fixing lawn mowers, but he wasn’t happy. We could tell. He wanted that woman back. Mentioned her name a few times, wondering about her. Said she had remarried. ‘Thank God’ is what I said, of course, not where he could hear me. Wasn’t long before he was going out, meeting people, starting a new life. Then she called him, said she wanted to see him, catch up on old times. Next thing you know, she got him a job in Madison. He said it was in a pawnshop. Said she fixed things where he could work there. ‘Lots of money to be made,’ that’s what she told him. He left, and we never saw him alive again. That was over four months ago.”
“Did you talk to him much after that?” Maude asked, eying Elizabeth, observing her trance.
“Yes, my Ronny called home every Sunday. He was a good boy.” The woman seemed to come awake from a deep sleep. Her face animated, she kept talking about her son. “Mother’s Day he sent me red roses. My, wasn’t that a nice thing to do?”
“Mrs. Marshall, what do you think of Anna?” Maude hoped the woman knew something about her ex-daughter-in-law that would be helpful.
“Don’t care much for her. Never did. She was older than my Ronny. But he was always a good son. Always loved his mother. Just ask him, he’ll tell you. Ronny, Ronny,”
she suddenly yelled, “come out and meet these folks.”
Edwin stood and went to his wife, shushing her. He looked over at the detectives and shrugged. “Sorry, you’ll have to let yourself out.” Elizabeth had begun screaming hysterically to her dead son, demanding that he come into the living room.
“Thank you,” Maude said, rising from the chair, motioning to Joe that they should leave. “We appreciate your help.”
They drove for a few minutes, and Maude checked the guidance system for Marlin, Texas, thirty-five minutes away. “How about we have lunch and go see Anna’s parents—the last I checked, they still live in Marlin. Makes us a little later getting home. If you get tired of driving, let me know.”
Joe glanced over, smiled, and nodded. “I will do that, ma’am. I will do that.”
“Tough scene back there. I hope she gets better.” Maude stared out the window, sorry she hadn’t taken time for her second cigarette of the day. Nicotine helped calm the animal.
“Yeah, hell of a note. The old man loses both of them. You get anything out of all that?”
“Confirmation. Anna is up to her neck in the murder. What a piece of work she is. Wake me when we get there.”
Driving was soothing to Joe, always had been. He could think clearly when navigating open roads. Like then, the memory of Anna Avery came back, her actions, her words. He was even more convinced she’d done it. Whatever her reason, she’d killed her ex-husband. It was up to him and Maude to prove it. Joe hated admitting the attraction he had felt for the woman. She was beautiful—sexy beyond belief. He could see why Ronald Marshall was so enthralled. The difference was, he saw the trouble in her, and Marshall hadn’t. Getting out of her office that day, he’d felt relief to be gone, an unfamiliar emotion when it came to leaving gorgeous women. Even after Sheila’s drunken behavior, he’d had only disgust. But Anna was different. She carried violence within her as some carry pain. Always there, ready to take hold at any time. That was what he’d seen.
Maude awoke from her nap as they drove into the city limits of the small town. Joe said he had enjoyed the drive, but she could see he was getting tired by the way his shoulders drooped.
“What’s for lunch?” she asked. “It’s on the city.”
“In that case, how about some real food if there’s an eatery here. Maybe a chicken-fried steak?”
“Sounds good to me. Let’s drive around the square. Maybe there’s a good place downtown. Hey look, there’s a place called The Sisters, across the street. I’ll bet they’ll have what we’re looking for.”
Joe parked the car and they walked to the restaurant, happy to be out of the car. They were seated at a table and ordered from a menu, taking time to appreciate small-town business. After a really good meal, the two detectives ambled back to the car as Maude lit her allowable cigarette. She had long since stopped smoking in the city car, a fact Joe was happy about.
“Got the address?” he asked. “I’ll program it into the guidance system while you’re smoking. By the way, did I tell you how good you look today? Don’t know what you did, but you look healthier.”
“Men,” she said. “Healthier? Women don’t want to look healthy. They want to look good.”
Joe’s eyes were sparkling with mischief. “Sorry, you look good too.”
“Thanks, it’s the haircut and a little color. A friend of mine used to say, ‘Any old barn looks better with a little paint on it.’ I guess she was right.”
Driving away from downtown, they found the house where Casper and Mary Singleton lived, pulled into the drive, and got out, headed for the house. A huge German shepherd barked through a chain-link fence dividing the yard from the street. The Beware of Dog sign posted nearby was given credence by the deep chuff from the animal. Maude had always had a healthy respect for large animals with sharp teeth, but she didn’t let them keep her from the job. A quick knock on the door then silence as she waited for someone to come forward and greet them. Another knock and a woman of uncertain age, wearing a white apron tied in the back over a pink-flowered housedress, opened the door. A small chain stayed in place across the opening.
“Mrs. Singleton? I’m Maude Rogers, Homicide, of Madison, and this is my partner, Joe Allen. We’d like to ask you some questions. We’re investigating the murder of Ronald Marshall.”
Joe stepped forward and held out his hand, prepared to introduce himself. The woman stepped back as if frightened. He withdrew his hand from the door opening and nodded to Maude that maybe she should talk.
“What do you want to know?” the woman asked.
“Can we come in and talk?” Maude smiled, showing her badge at the same time. She realized the woman wasn’t accustomed to police officers at her door.
“I guess it’s all right. Come in, officers,” she said, removing the security chain.
“Are you Mary Singleton?”
“No, I’m Mary’s sister, Gloria Adams. She’s out right now. I live here with her since Casper died last year.”
“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss,” Maude said. “Will Mary be back soon?”
“Yes, she’ll be back in a few minutes. Just a short trip to the grocery store. Sit down, please. Where are my manners?” Gloria added, directing them toward the chairs in a small living area.
“Gloria, what can you tell me about Anna, your niece?”
“You’ll have to wait until Mary comes home. She knows all about Anna.” Mary sat down for a moment then turned toward Maude. “Would you like some coffee?”
Figuring it as a way to break the ice with the frightened woman, Maude said, “Yes, I would like a cup,” then followed as Gloria limped her way into the kitchen.
Joe sat alone on the small couch, watching Alex Trebek ask difficult questions of contestants on Jeopardy!.
“I’ll help, if you’ll let me.” Maude could see the woman’s movements were practiced,
as though the limp had been there awhile. Gloria noticed her looking, and shook her head.
“I’m fine. The accident happened a long time ago, and I hardly notice it anymore.”
“Excuse me, I didn’t mean to be rude.” Maude was embarrassed she’d been caught staring.
“Why sure.” Gloria smiled, relaxing. “I understand. When it first happened, I was in real bad shape, thought I’d never walk again because of my injuries: broken hip, femur, several ribs fractured; but as you can see, that wasn’t true. I was lucky.”
Maude waited as the woman poured sugar into a bowl and added a container of powdered creamer to a tray.
“Were you in a car accident?” Maude asked sympathetically.
“No.” Gloria smiled nervously. “It was a…household accident. I…was taking care of Anna while Mary and Casper were at work. She was ten, and it was summer, with school out. I carried a basket of laundry downstairs—they lived in a split-level house back then—and stepped onto one of Anna’s roller skates. I didn’t remember seeing it on the way up, but going back down, there it was, waiting to carry me to hell. When I hit the bottom of the stairs I knew I was hurt bad, maybe dying, but it had happened so fast, I had trouble believing I wasn’t in a dream.”
“What happened after that?”
“I screamed at Anna to call her mother, but she had already gone outside. I guess…she didn’t see me fall.”
Maude waited a moment for the woman to continue. “You sound as though you’re unsure about what the girl might have seen.”
“Well, she was angry at me because I wouldn’t let her go skating with her friends. Mary had told me to keep Anna at home because she was grounded. After I fell, the girl disappeared. Then later, when I pulled myself across the floor to the phone and called Mary, Anna came back inside, and said she was sorry I had stepped on her skate, but maybe I should be more careful.”
“Do you think she was sorry, Gloria?”
“Well…I…no, I don’t think she was. I even thought for a while she’d put the skate there, hoping I would fall.”
“What changed your mind?”
“I don’t know that I changed my mind. I just put it out of my thoughts,” Gloria said, carrying the pot of coffee to the table where Joe sat.
“She was a headstrong child, and there was almost nothing she wouldn’t do to get her way. A selfish girl, pretty and even deceitful, but I couldn’t believe she would try to hurt me because she was angry.”
Sitting across from the woman, Maude sipped her sweetened coffee. Joe took his toward the end of the couch, and seemed caught up in the television program, but Maude knew he was giving her space, hoping to avoid a break in Gloria’s story.
“How long have you lived with Mary?” Maude was enjoying the coffee; it had already been a long day, and they had a long way to go before reaching home. Caffeine would be necessary to keep her alert.
Gloria seemed relieved that the line of questioning was no longer about her accident. “Casper died six years ago, and I’ve been here ever since then. Before that, I stayed a few times, helping Mary, that is, until the accident. After that, I stayed in my apartment. My husband, Glenn, died when he was a young man, just forty-two. Heart attack, the doctor said. I lived with my daughter after that, until she graduated college and got married. It seemed foolish to keep an apartment, since Mary owned this house, and wanted me to come. Casper’s heart attack had happened so fast; it was devastating for my sister.” Gloria seemed disturbed, and carefully added creamer and sugar to her coffee, as though the lightest touch could cause the cup, and her composure, to shatter.
Maude had dealt with the victims of trauma and abuse before, and Gloria fit the profile of someone who had escaped a bad situation, but feared something even worse might happen. A ten-year-old kid who deliberately caused her aunt to fall down a flight of stairs was a disturbed child. How many more “accidents” happened because of Anna Singleton? Just as Maude was considering the question, Mary Singleton arrived home, her arms full of grocery bags. Joe jumped up to help, but Mary didn’t know him and pulled back, skirting the young man’s outstretched hands.
“Who are you? Gloria, are these friends of yours?” she asked.
“No,” said her sister. “They’re detectives from Madison. They want to ask you some questions about Anna.”
“Anna? What’s she done?”
Maude considered the choice of words. Usually, when someone was told questions were being asked about a loved one, the person responded, “What’s happened to her. Is she all right?”
“Just routine, Mrs. Singleton. We’re following up on the murder of Ronald Marshall. Of course, he was known in Madison as Marlin Thompson, but we understand how a person from prison uses an alias sometimes to secure a job. It appears he named himself after his hometown.”
“Oh…Ronald. Yes. A really nice boy. I was sorry to hear about his death.” Maude noticed Mary’s words were the same as those of the young man’s mother in describing him. Mary put the bags aside and entered the small living area. Seating herself, she welcomed them in her home after Maude and Joe introduced themselves and showed their identification. “What can I help you with, detectives?”
“Hoping you can clear up some routine questions about your daughter’s marriage to the victim.”
Mary frowned and started to say something, then stopped. After a moment of silence she said, “But that was over four years ago. How can my daughter’s marriage have anything to do with his death?”
“As we said, just routine questions, Mrs. Singleton,” Joe said, picking up where Maude left off. “We’re putting together a picture of the victim’s life.”
“They were married in this town. My husband spared no expense for his little girl.” Mary chewed her lip nervously. “Anna had been out of school for two years when she met Ronald. They were in love, she said. He was still young, eighteen, but seemed older. He went to Baylor for one semester after that then dropped out. The next thing I knew, they wanted to get married. Casper, my husband, worshiped our daughter and could never deny her anything. Nothing his little princess wanted was too much. He borrowed money for her wedding, drowning us in debt. Finally, he gave her away, something I thought he would never do. Me, he would have given away gladly, but not his precious Anna.” Her voice dropped so low Maude had difficulty hearing. Mary stared defiantly at the detective.
Maude caught the “little princess” part, and heard the unspoken accusation in Mary’s voice.
“How did you feel about the young man?”
“I wasn’t happy. I didn’t believe they were old enough to get married, but some of Anna’s friends had been married since high school, and she just couldn’t wait any longer. Anyway, it wasn’t up to me. It was her father who always had the last word. He didn’t give a damn what I thought. Anna was everything to him. Everything.”
“Mary, do you think Anna could have had anything to do with Ronald’s death?” Maude heard a sharp gasp from Gloria.
Mary’s demeanor changed, becoming fearful. “What makes you ask such a question, detective? You’re talking about my daughter.”
“Yes, I know, Mary. It’s a hard question, but I need to hear your answer. So once again, do you think your daughter might have had anything to do with her ex-husband’s death?”
Mary suddenly burst into tears. She refused to look at Maude or Joe, and reached for her sister’s hand.
“I…don’t know what to say, detective. It’s my child you’re talking about. How can a mother say her only daughter might be a murderer? Those words could never come from me, even if they were true.” With that, Mary wiped her eyes and straightened her shoulders. “If you have no more questions, detectives, I will show you to the door.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Joe said, rising from the couch. “Thank you for your time. Please take my card. Call if you think of anything that might help us find Ronald Marshall’s killer.”
“You won’t hear from me, detective. There’s nothing I can t
ell you.”
As they were leaving the room, Gloria came to say goodbye. Maude took a moment to give her card to the woman, meeting her eyes for a moment.
They eased into the city car and drove away with Maude at the wheel, allowing Joe to nap a while. He was so quiet, she thought he had fallen asleep.
“Maude,” he said, startling her, “what kind of kid would do that? Who would set up her mother’s sister so she would fall down the stairs? I can tell you, an evil little witch, that’s the kind—one that grows up to be Anna Avery. She killed her ex, now how do we prove it?”
“With good police work, Joe, and lots of luck. Like all egotistical killers, she’ll screw up. And we’ll be there to put the cuffs on.”
Maude drove for an hour before deciding to stop for coffee and convenience store hot dogs. Night wasn’t far off, and she didn’t want to drive the lonely stretches of road in the dark without more caffeine. They pulled over at a gas station and Joe filled the tank while Maude went in, used the facilities, and poured coffee for two. He came in the door and passed her by on his trip into the men’s room. Standing outside, sipping her coffee, Maude decided to smoke her third cigarette of the day. While she was lighting up, her phone rang. It was Gloria Adams.
“Detective,” Gloria whispered, “that girl is bad. The things she did at home were unspeakable. Mary knows it, but won’t face the facts. Anna killed that boy. I’m sure of it.”
“What makes you sure, Gloria?” Maude asked, hoping she could keep the woman talking. “You heard her admit it?”
“I didn’t have to hear her admit it, detective. I heard her plan it. I can’t talk now. Can you meet me somewhere?”
“Yes. I can meet you. Tell me when and where.”
“At the Dairy Queen, over on Sixth Street. In about two hours. Mary will be asleep by then. It’s not that I mind her knowing; she’ll have to before it’s over. I just don’t want her to know it’s me pointing the finger. She’d never forgive me.”
The 6:10 To Murder (The Maude Rogers Crime Novels Book 3) Page 17