by K C Hart
“I just got to thinking,” Katy said, perching on the edge of the metal chair and wiping the sweat from her palms onto her pants leg. “Mrs. Morse was there alone with Rob Clay for at least fifteen minutes that day, and we already know that she wrote him that note saying he was going to pay.” Katy filled him in on what she had learned about Johnnie Mae Smithers, Floyd Perkins and Donnie Gibson.
Sheriff Reid rubbed his hand across his jaw and leaned back in his chair. “And you know for a fact that Rob Clay was blackmailing the drama teacher and Johnnie Mae Smithers?”
“Yes sir. I heard Donnie Gibson and the drama teacher talking at his store. Donnie said he knew where Rob had seen him and that he had better get things back on track or he would tell people.”
“Okay,” he said sitting up in his chair. “I think it’s time we rounded up a few of these good folks one more time and try to get some stuff figured out.”
“You are going to pick up Floyd Perkins and Mrs. Morse?” Katy asked, watching as the sheriff jotted down something on a sticky note. Mrs. Morse would blow a fuse if she ever found out Katy had talked to the sheriff about her again.
“Yep, and Mrs. Smithers and Donnie Gibson. Sounds to me like they all might need to come clean on a few things.”
Katy sighed, “Will you tell them how you found out all of this?”
“No, not unless I just have to.” He stood up and walked around the desk. “But you know that people have a way of finding out things in this town.” He patted Katy’s shoulder as he walked her to the door. “You just remember that you’re trying to help find a killer. I would tell you to leave it to me and the other men, but, well, why waste my breath? Besides, you usually have a pretty good nose for what’s going on.” He smiled and stepped over to the Coke machine. “Let me buy you a cold one for the road.”
“Thank you, sir,” Katy said, watching him put the quarters in the machine. “Do you really think one of those people did it?”
“Remember what I told you before. It doesn’t matter what I think; all that matters is what the facts say.”
Katy nodded. Mrs. Simmons would make a great detective. She could focus in on the facts and not jump to conclusions, the way Katy seemed prone to doing here lately. She popped the tab on her can and headed to her car. It would be hard to concentrate on the band practice tonight. She looked at the time then picked up her cell and hit John’s number.
“Hey, I’m leaving the sheriff’s office. I just filled him in on everything in the murder book.”
“What is he going to do?” The concern in his voice was evident. “I’m glad you’re keeping him informed, but you know how I feel about all of this. I don’t want word getting out that you might know who the killer is.”
“He said he was going to call in several of the people to talk to them,” Katy sighed. “Look, I’m running behind, as usual. Do you mind getting your own supper? I’m supposed to be at practice in ten minutes.”
“No, that is fine. Did we eat all of the rocky road?”
“I’m afraid so.” Katy smiled. “I need to restock.”
“I’ll find something. Just be careful and call if you’re going to be late.”
“You got it.”
Band practice was very subdued. They knocked off after about an hour since no one’s heart really seemed to be in it. When she got home, John was sitting at the bar, studying the murder book. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich lay on the bar, half eaten.
“Todd called a while ago and said you weren’t answering your phone. I started to come hunt you, but he drove by Sara’s place and said your car was still there.”
Katy sat on a bar stool and pulled her cell phone from her purse. “It’s dead.” She reached over to plug it in to the charger. “What did he need?”
“He said they had talked to Floyd Perkins, and he has a solid alibi. He was with his mother and one of her friends during the time of the murder, unclogging a kitchen sink.”
“I guess that is about as solid as you can get.” Katy picked up John’s sandwich and lifted the corner of the bread. “Is this grape jelly or strawberry?”
“Strawberry. We’re out of grape.” He turned the murder book around so Katy could read it. “I marked out the scenarios you had about Floyd being the killer, but look.” He pointed to a line Katy had scribbled a few days ago. “You said he was a good suspect because he should have a key to the back door of the auditorium.”
“Yeah, I figured he had easy access to the crime scene and a good motive with Rob blackmailing him.” She stopped and took a bite off the corner of the sandwich.
“Well, the sheriff talked to him about that. When he pulled out his key ring tonight, that key was missing.”
“He hadn’t noticed it before now?” Katy tossed the last bite of the sandwich on the saucer.
“No, he said they’ve been practicing in the classroom because the auditorium has been off limits since it’s a crime scene. He hadn’t used the key, so he hadn’t noticed it was missing.”
Katy walked to the refrigerator. She pulled out the milk and poured some in a coffee mug. “I guess that’s believable. I lose keys in my purse and don’t notice it until I need them.” She paused and took a drink of the milk. “So, the sheriff thinks Floyd’s not involved?”
“I guess not. Todd said that he let him go after that.”
“Oh well, I guess we need to move on, too. Did he talk to anybody else?”
“No, not yet. He’s bringing them in one at a time. He said that he was on his was over to pick up Donnie Gibson next. He wanted to ask you what all you and the sheriff had talked about this afternoon. He said the sheriff was being tight lipped.”
“That reminds me. Next time I talk to Todd, I need to ask him where Donnie Gibson lives. I saw him coming out of a house over on Huckleberry Lane near where one of my patient’s lives.” Katy looked at the clock on the microwave. “It’s ten. Do you think I should call him back this late?”
John stood up and grabbed the saucer. “No, he said he would be busy once he got to Donnie’s house. Just get back in touch with him tomorrow.” He tossed the last corner of the sandwich in the trash can.
“Is that all you had to eat?” Katy watched him stick the saucer and the cups into the dishwasher.
“I had more than one,” he said, turning around. He pointed to the bread bag that now only held the ends.”
Katy looked at the bag. “How many sandwiches did you have?”
“Four, I think. It might have been five. I got to looking over your notebook and just kept making them and eating them.”
“I guess that’s better than ice cream for supper.”
“No, nothing is better than ice cream for supper.”
Eight o’clock. John must have turned off his alarm before it went off this morning, because she never heard it. Of course, she didn’t hear John in the shower or the kitchen like she usually did, either. She slid her feet over the side of the bed into her slippers and padded up the hall toward the coffee pot. She had spent another hour after they got in bed last night updating the murder book.
I need to go talk to Mrs. Simmons. She can see this stuff so clearly, she thought. The coffee and a hot shower were first priorities, however, then she would plan her day.
The phone was still on the charger. She picked it up and looked at the messages. The office had tried to call about fifteen minutes ago. She must have really been sleeping hard. Todd had not called or texted. She would get in touch with him today, too, but was in no big hurry. If Edna Morse was already at the station this morning, she did not want to go anywhere near the place. She didn’t think Todd or the sheriff would ask her to come by, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She would wait and call him later.
She poured a mug of black coffee and dialed her office. They needed her to go do the wound care on the patient she admitted last week. The coffee was still scalding as she gulped it down. She would see her patient first then decide on the rest of the day. She took a quick shower,
jumped in her scrubs and headed out the door. Her damp hair would finish drying on the way.
The parking lot was quiet as she drove into the low-income apartment complex. She grabbed her bags from the back seat and stepped onto the narrow sidewalk that ran in front of the line of identical front doors. The mailman nodded a greeting as she walked past.
“Hello, it’s the nurse,” she called, wrapping her knuckles on the metal door. The dog in the apartment next door let out a couple of barks.
The door opened just a crack and stopped as the tension from the small, gold chain lock pulled tight at the top. “Just a second,” the old man said. “I need to grab the mail while I’m up, anyway.”
Katy pulled the mail from the slot and handed it to the elderly man as she followed him inside. They sat on the couch, and she began changing the dressing to his leg. He looked through the sales papers while she worked.
“This is just the junk mail and sales papers,” he said, tossing the papers aside as he fished through them one at a time. “We have to go to the post office to get our real mail. People will steal it out of your box if you use the ones on the side of the house.” He winced as Katy gently pulled the dried dressing from the wound bed. “How’s it looking?” He leaned forward to get a better look at the raw area that Katy was attending.
“I can tell your leg is getting better in just one week.” She scrubbed the wound bed and the surrounding skin of his lower leg with cleanser. “You must be elevating your legs like we talked about.”
“I am. I flipped the clothes basked over and use it as a stool.” The little man pointed to the basket that was upside down sitting beside his chair.
“That’s smart thinking.” She packed the wound with gauze, dampened with normal saline, and began to redress the area.
“Smart, until I need to do the laundry,” his wife said, stepping into the living room. Her gray hair was still standing on end from being in bed. She pulled the belt on her robe tight as she walked into the room.
“I hope I didn’t wake you up.” Katy looked at the clock on the wall. It was ten thirty, but she knew that everybody’s sleeping habits were different.
“She just didn’t get to bed until late last night,” the old man said.
“And then that dog woke me up after midnight.” The woman walked across the short distance of the compact apartment living room to the kitchenette. “I need some coffee. If that woman don’t get rid of that dog soon, I am going to have to talk to somebody.”
“I didn’t hear nothing,” the old man said, grinning and winking at Katy.
“That’s cause you can’t hear thunder once you take out your hearing aids, and you know it.” She poured her coffee and returned to sit down. “I don’t know what was going on over there, but that mongrel was cutting up something fierce last night.” She blew the steam across the cup and took a sip. “This used to be a nice, quiet place to live.”
Katy finished up the wound care and packed up her bag. “Have you tried talking to your neighbor about it?”
“Oh no, no,” the man said, standing to walk Katy to the door. “That’s a weird looking bunch over there. I’m just going to have to buy Stella some ear plugs. She ain’t going to talk to nobody.”
“Well, I hope it gets better.” She stepped outside onto the sidewalk. “I’ll see you next week. Keep propping up that leg.”
Katy got in her car just as her phone buzzed. She unlocked the screen and looked at the text from Todd. Can you meet me for lunch?
She typed in her response. You bet! Burger Barn? Ten minutes?
Great, see you there.
She pulled into the nearly empty parking lot and killed the engine. It was only eleven-fifteen, a little early for the lunch rush. Todd’s truck pulled in beside her, and they walked in together.
“I guess Uncle John filled you in on Mr. Perkins.”
“Yeah, my phone was dead, so I didn’t get your call. I got home around ten last night, then had a patient to see this morning,” Katy said, picking up the menu the waitress had laid on the table. She would eat light today. She had to see Dr. Roberts next week for a checkup so she could get her blood pressure medicine refilled. When she was there six months ago, he had told her she needed to drop some weight and watch her salt and fat. She had watched it alright. She had watched it pile on her plate, then on her fork right before it went into her mouth.
She listened as Todd ordered the cheeseburger and fries. “I guess I will have a fruit plate and some ice water.” She sighed and handed the menu back to the waitress.
“So, you know about the missing key?” Todd asked.
“Yeah, and I imagine whoever has the key killed Rob Clay.” She waited while the waitress gave Todd his soft drink and put the ice water in front of her. “Did you find anything else out? Did Donnie Gibson have an alibi?”
“He said he was home with his daughter, but I just don’t know if I believe that man.” He stuck the straw in the brown bubbles of soft drink and ice rising from the top of his glass. “He also said that whoever overheard him talking to Floyd Perkins misunderstood. They are good friends, and there’s no blackmailing going on.”
She took a small sip of the water and frowned. “What did Floyd Perkins say about that?”
“He acted like he didn’t know anything about it, either. They are definitely covering something up.”
“I don’t guess the sheriff will talk to Donnie’s daughter.”
“He said he would wait on that. He will if he has to, but he wants to see if Emma’s guitar case helps to shed any light on this.”
They paused again as the waitress stepped up with their food. They each bowed their heads in silent prayer before resuming their conversation.
“I feel like I wasted the sheriff’s time,” Katy said. She stabbed a chunk of pineapple with her fork and held it up to her nose for a sniff. “I guess I should have just kept my notes to myself for a while longer.”
“No, you’re wrong Aunt Katy.” Todd grabbed the ketchup bottle and squeezed several streaks across his fries. “We found out about the missing key and narrowed the suspect pool by one. Oh, and I haven’t told you about Mrs. Morse yet.”
“I’m not sure I want to know. Did she show out?”
Todd grinned as he lifted a dripping red fry from the basket. “Maybe just a little, but we can handle her. She was alone in the auditorium with Rob like you said.” He shook his head and took a bite off the end of the fry. “I can’t believe we overlooked that fact all of this time. Anyway, she said that she was on the phone the entire time, and we can get the phone records and talk to Mr. Morse to prove it.”
“I didn’t really believe that she killed the guy, anyway.”
“I don’t guess I did either, but you never know.” He paused and picked up the cheeseburger. “She did tell some interesting stuff about Rob Clay, though.” He stopped again and took a bite of the burger. The ketchup and mustard dripped from the back of the bun onto the table.
Katy stabbed a chunk of apple and stuck it in her mouth. She puckered her lips as the tartness went down her throat. She took another sip of water, trying not to covet Todd’s lunch.
“When Rob Clay’s mother died last year, he bought the best of everything. She said there was only a handful of people at the funeral, but he went all out with everything and paid for it all in one lump payment.”
“Yeah, she told Misty that she thought he spent way more money than his store was capable of bringing in.”
“She said the same thing this morning, but she also said some other stuff.” Todd wiped a dab of mustard off of his chin with his napkin. “You know that his aunt died a couple of weeks ago?”
“You mean Donnie Gibson’s mother?”
“Yeah. Well, according to Mrs. Morse, Donnie had to have his mother shipped off to be cremated and is still paying on it, because he didn’t have the money to cover the cost and couldn’t get it. She said Mr. Morse heard him arguing with Rob on the phone about money. When he saw that
Mr. Morse was listening, he hushed up.”
“You think there was bad blood between them two?”
“Very bad blood.” He picked up another red, drippy fry. “You can do a lot of things to a man, but don’t mess with his momma.”
Katy shoved her plate away. She would just try to eat something later. The fruit was not setting well on her stomach. “Let’s see. They are running the music store together, but one has plenty of money and one is flat broke. Sounds like Donnie might have had a motive, too.” She picked up one final grape and popped it into her mouth. “Oh, by the way, does Donnie Gibson happen to live on Huckleberry Lane?”
“Yeah, in his mom’s old house.” He rubbed his chin as he looked across at Katy. “I think we might need to look a little closer into the music store’s financial records. Something just ain’t quite right there.”
“Can you do that?”
“We can if it will help solve the murder. I need to run this by the sheriff.” He paused and picked up a strawberry off Katy’s discarded fruit plate. “Why are you asking about Huckleberry Lane?”
“I was over that way seeing a patient yesterday, and I saw Donnie Gibson coming out of a house across the street. I happened to notice his car as I was driving away.”
“He didn’t happen to see you, did he?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Katy paused as they reached the diner’s exit. She tried to remember what she saw yesterday. “He might have seen me coming out of my patient’s house, I guess. I really wasn’t paying attention. Why?”
Todd pushed on the exit door and held it open while Katy walked through in front of him. “I just get a little uneasy when I think about you running all over town alone. We don’t know who killed Rob Clay and I sure don’t trust that cousin of his.” He walked with Katy to her car and waited while she found her keys in her scrub pocket. “I don’t want Donnie Gibson to cross your path too often. He might be following you.”
Katy clicked her key fob and waited while Todd opened her door. “You’re starting to sound like your Uncle John. Don’t worry. I’ll start paying more attention to who’s around me, but I really think that this was just a coincidence. By the way, what did the sheriff have to say after talking to the rest of the people?” Katy tried to change the subject before Todd started suggesting she check in with him every day, too.