All About the Money (A Jesse Watson Mystery Series Book 7)

by Ann Mullen

  “A hat?” I questioned. “I don’t think a hat is me. Besides, who wears a hat anymore?”

  “Fashions change,” Gina said. “Women used to wear hats, then they stopped, and now they’re wearing them again. Fashion… that’s what it’s all about. Dress for success. That’s what they say.”

  “Okay, but someone else is going to have to pick one out. I have no idea what kind of hat to wear.”

  “I’ll take care of you,” Gina said, assuring me. “I’ll be right back.”

  I looked at Billy. “A hat, huh?”

  Gina returned with everything I needed to complete my outfit. I tried on the accessories, including the hat, and then looked at myself in the mirror. “I look like a movie star going to a funeral. The dress, the bag, and the heels are fine, but I can’t wear this hat.”

  “We’ll take it just in case you change your mind,” Billy offered. He turned to Gina and said, “We’ll take it all.”

  “I’ll ring you up,” she replied. She smiled, and then walked away.

  Ten minutes later, we were on our way out of the store. When we passed a row of men’s suits, I pointed to them and asked Billy if he wanted to get one. He told me he had a suit to wear, and that all suits looked the same. What would be the point?

  “I bet Gina could find you a great looking one that doesn’t look like all the others. She’s pretty good at sizing up a person.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  We left the mall and headed back home, our shopping excursion complete. Halfway to the house, my cell phone rang. It was Mom.

  “Hello, Mother. How’s it going? You haven’t gotten busted already, have you?”

  “No, I haven’t, Missy, so you can stop being cute.”

  “If you’re not in jail, then why are you calling me? I thought you had a job to do.”

  “We just left Savannah’s house, and I’m telling you, Jesse, she’s a nutcase. Do you know what she told me? She said that McCoy cheated on her all the time and that Andrea wasn’t his first, but it sure was his last… and then she laughed like a hyena. I think everything’s getting jumbled up in her head. She said stuff that didn’t make sense. She said McCoy once had a brain tumor and they had to cut his head open. Can you believe it? Why is she saying all that junk? It has to be her imagination going wild. McCoy never had a brain tumor. He would’ve told us about it if he had.”

  “No, he didn’t, and I know because I’ve seen his medical records.”

  “What’s wrong with the woman? Has she lost her mind?”

  “Maybe she’s finally crossed the line between fiction and fact. She’s a writer. Writers make up stuff. How’s her temper?”

  “Awful. Twice she yelled at me. I had to bite my tongue, mind you. She even snapped at Eddie a couple of times. I thought I was going to have to smack her around. She has a spiteful side to her. She can be mean when she wants to.”

  “You slap someone around? Ha! I’d like to see that. You don’t know how to be physical. Now if it were me, I wouldn’t hesitate. Maybe she’s off her medication. She probably used it all on her husband.”

  “Do you know something I don’t?”

  “She’s bi-polar. Remember how Peaches was that time she went off her medication? She was angry and depressed, and she flew into a rage over the smallest thing. She screamed at everyone.”

  “I haven’t seen Peaches in a long time. She’s such a good girl.”

  “She had problems until she got on the right medication with the proper dosage adjusted just right.”

  “Now that you mention it, seeing Savannah like this does remind me of the way Peaches used to act. She was mad at the world for awhile. Fortunately, that didn’t last long.”

  “Just be careful around her. If she really is off her meds, she could become violent. Are you carrying a gun?”

  “No, I have Eddie. He’s a pit bull.”

  “Okay. Keep me informed.”

  “Same here.”

  I ended the connection and looked at Billy. “Savannah’s starting to act up. Mom says she’s getting really weird, and she thinks she might be getting ready to go psycho on us.”

  “I heard. She’s a real storyteller, isn’t she?”

  “She’s a big, fat liar, and she isn’t even a private detective. At least, we have an excuse.”

  “She said McCoy had a brain tumor? Next thing she’ll be telling us is that he once was a rock star. What’s gotten into her? Does she really believe her tales can’t be proved or disproved? Silly girl. She has more sense than that, so she should know better.”

  “I say we drop in on her. See what all the hoopla’s about. I know you had Lila send flowers, but we could take a bouquet just for Savannah. She’ll love the attention.”

  “Sounds good to me. We’ll stop at that little flower shop on Main Street in Stanardsville. What else are we going to do with the rest of the afternoon?”

  During the ride to Stanardsville, I called Mom back to tell her of our plans, and she was glad we were going to get to see Savannah’s weird behavior for ourselves. Before we ended the call, she told me to be careful—Savannah was no longer in her right mind.

  “Don’t worry about me, Mom,” I told her. “Billy’s a pit bull, too, and if he can’t handle her, I still have my gun. I’ll shoot the lies out of her.” We both laughed, and then ended our conversation.

  Billy just shook his head.

  “What’s the matter? You didn’t like my joke?”

  When we arrived at Savannah’s house after picking up the flowers, the gate was standing open, so Billy pulled in and parked the truck by the back door.

  Savannah greeted us from the doorway before we got out. “Come on in,” she yelled to us. “Have a drink… or two… or three.” She turned and staggered away.

  “Oh, Lord,” I whispered to Billy as I grabbed the bouquet of flowers off the seat. “She’s been drinking again.”

  “Be cool. Don’t antagonize her.”

  “These are for you,” I said, handing the flowers to her once we got inside. “We thought they might cheer you up. A lot has happened to you lately, and you deserve something to brighten your day. I hope the flowers cheer you up.”

  Savannah looked terrible. She was dressed in a pair of gym shorts and a big, bulky sweater, and she was barefoot. Her hair was a scraggly mess, and her eyes were puffy from crying.

  “Whew… you can say that again,” She said as she dropped the bouquet of flowers on the countertop. “Life’s been rough. Everything’s gotten all turned around.” She went to the cabinet, took out two small glasses, and then filled them to the rim with whiskey. “Have a drink.” She handed the glasses to us one at a time and very slowly. “I’m trying to drown my sorrows before the big day.”

  “And which day would that be?” Billy calmly asked her.

  “Tomorrow!” she shouted, angrily. “What other day would I be talking about? The day they’re going to bury my lying, cheating, drug addicted husband. I still can’t believe I stayed married to that man after all the bad things he’s done to me.”

  Sitting on the kitchen table was a large canvas bag filled with mail. Open letters and stacks of unopened mail lay spread out all over the place. A laptop sat amid the mail.

  “I see you’ve noticed my mail,” Savannah said. “They hate me! I got a bag full of letters from my fans who say they hate me and will never buy my books again. Look at this.” She swaggered over to the table, picked up a handful of mail, and then tossed them across the room. “I got over a thousand emails just this morning.” She took her hand and smacked the laptop sideways, sending it sailing to the floor, pieces of it scattering. “People can be so mean and hateful! Nasty little…”

  “May we sit down, Savannah?” I asked, interrupting her tirade. “My feet hurt.” I had to come up with something to break her train of thought and bitter outbursts. Hurting feet was the first thing that came to mind.

  “What’s the matter with your feet?” She stu
mbled over to look, spilling her drink in the process. “Oops! I’m making such a mess. McCoy would slap me if he knew I was spilling booze all over the place. He hates a dirty house. Mr. Clean! Mr. Clean! Where are you when I need you?” She giggled. “Everything had to be just perfect for my husband. Lousy...”

  Billy reached out and grabbed her before she fell, and then helped her over to the sofa. “Perhaps you should sit down.” He went to take the glass from her hand, but she waved him off.

  “Leave me alone,” she yelled. “I don’t need your help. I don’t need anybody’s help! Where’s Cole? I need Cole! Cole!”

  She was definitely having a meltdown. She had survived a vicious attack and her husband had died, but having her fans desert her in droves was the final straw. She was a broken woman. The people who had meant the most to her were now a thing of the past.

  I started picking up the strewn mail while Billy tried to comfort her. His words were soothing even to my ears. “Savannah, you don’t need people like that. They’re nothing. They like you when everything’s fine, but when you have difficulties, they walk away. They aren’t your friends. Your real friends are the ones who stand by you no matter what. Let us help you.”

  I picked up the mangled laptop, sat it back on the table, and then walked over to her.

  “You’re such a nice man, Billy Blackhawk. Why does Jesse hate me? What did I ever do to her to make her hate me so much? We used to be good friends... in another lifetime. Now I have nobody to be my friend.”

  I sat down on the sofa next to her and said, “I don’t hate you, Savannah. I just hate it when you lie to me. I want a friend who’s honest with me, someone I can trust.”

  “You can trust me, Jesse. I only tell lies so people won’t find out my dirty, little secrets.”

  “What secrets, Savannah? What don’t you want people to find out? What could possibly be so bad?”

  “McCoy hurt me in ways you’ll never know.”

  “Why don’t you tell me?”

  “I can’t. I’m too embarrassed. There are some things you don’t tell anyone. I’d had my fair share of tales I could tell... that’s for sure.”

  “We’re friends. You can tell me anything.”

  “Jesse,” Billy whispered to me. “Come here.”

  I got up and walked over to Billy as he walked off to the side. “What’s the matter?” I whispered. “She’s about ready to let it all hang out. I can get the truth from her now, while she’s drunk. I say we go for it.”

  “She’s blackout drunk. Anything she says to you will be a figment of her imagination, and she won’t remember a thing in the morning. You’re wasting your time. We need to get her to go to bed and sleep it off.”

  “All right, Billy.” I walked back over to Savannah and took her by the hand. “Come on, girlfriend. You need to lie down.”

  “We’re girlfriends again?”

  “Sure, we’re girlfriends again. We always have been ever since we first met. We’re friends to the end.”

  I led Savannah to her bedroom, and then pulled back the covers on her bed. She crawled in without making a fuss, and pulled the covers up to her neck. She smiled and then closed her eyes. Within seconds, she was snoring like a drunken sailor.

  “That was easy,” I whispered to Billy. “While we’re here, let’s search the place. You take the bathroom and I’ll search the dresser drawers.”

  “Why not?” he replied. “We won’t have to get your mother and Eddie to do it for us. I’ll feel better about that.”

  “Me, too.”

  We began our search while Savannah was passed out in the bed. I rummaged through her drawers, my fingers touching everything and every corner. But there were no pill bottles. Nothing out of the ordinary. “How’s it going in there?” I whispered to Billy.

  “Nothing,” he said, walking back into the bedroom.

  “Same here.”

  He went to the closet while I checked McCoy’s armoire. I didn’t think I’d find anything, but I had to look. I rummaged through the drawers and came up with nothing. When I went to open the doors they wouldn’t open.

  “Billy,” I whispered. “Come here.”

  He walked over to me, and then I said, “The doors are locked. Why would someone lock their armoire? What would be the point? It’s just clothes in here.”

  “Maybe not,” Billy replied as he ran his hand across the top, searching for the key. “If it’s locked, there’s a good reason. Somebody’s got something to hide.”

  We both looked around and tried to figure out where the key might be hidden, but we couldn’t come up with anything. We knew it could be anywhere and we didn’t have the time or inclination to search any longer.

  “This is a waste of time,” Billy said. “We could search all day and never find the key.” He grabbed the handles with both hands and jerked open the doors. They released with a pop.

  When Savannah groaned, it startled both of us. We turned to look. She rolled over in bed, but didn’t wake up. She was out, stone cold. We turned our attention back to the armoire. Everything was stacked or lined up neat as a pin. Billy rummaged around the top shelf, while I searched the next one down. I found the target of our search. I scooped up six prescription bottles and looked at the labels while Billy pulled out a packet of photographs.

  “Geez, look here, Billy,” I exclaimed, and then looked up at him. “Not one of these prescriptions belongs to McCoy, and here’s mine. I guess I was right about Savannah.”

  “No, you weren’t,” Billy corrected. “This is McCoy’s dresser, and he kept it locked. What does that tell you?”

  “That he didn’t want anyone going in here… not even his wife. This must’ve been his secret hiding place.”

  “If you think you found a smoking gun, check out what I found,” he said, showing me the photographs one by one, until I had to look away.

  “I don’t want to see anymore.”

  The photos were of Savannah. She was naked in all of them, and from the look on her face, she wasn’t enjoying the moment. In some of the pictures she was tied to a bed, naked and bruised with tears on her face. The sight of her in that condition made me want to cry.

  “I was wrong about Savannah,” I said, tears coming to my eyes. “McCoy wasn’t the man we all thought he was. He was a sadist, and poor Savannah was the one who suffered from his sickness. How could he treat her that way? I never expected something like this. McCoy was one messed up dude. What a pervert!”

  “I would say so. Do you still think she stole your pills?”

  “If she did, he made her do it. He made her do a lot of things. Why do people do such terrible things to the one they love? It makes me sick to think about it.”

  “Keeping photos like this is crazy. What if they fell into the wrong hands? This isn’t something you’d want people to see.” Billy put them back in the packet, and then placed them back on the shelf. “Put those back where you got them,” he said. “This is over.”

  I placed the pill bottles on the shelf and then noticed something weird. In the opposite corner was a small jar filled with clear liquid and some kind of object. I picked up the container and held it up to the light. “Geez! It’s part of someone’s finger! Now that’s really sick.”

  Billy and I stared at each other, baffled by my find.

  “Andrea had a finger missing. I wondered what happened to it. Now I know. This is disgusting.”

  “You don’t think McCoy cut off her finger, do you?” Billy asked. “Why would he do something like that?”

  “Don’t ask me. If he could do something like this, imagine what else he could do. I bet if we look closer at the contents of the closet we’d find other weird things of his. Maybe he’s got part of a leg hiding in there.”

  “I thought I knew the man. I guess I was wrong.”

  “This is all too weird for me,” I said. “I can’t believe McCoy was so sick in the head. He just didn’t seem like the type.”

  “You never really know a
person until you go through their stuff.”

  I placed the jar back where I found it, and tried my best to keep from vomiting. All I wanted to do was leave, but that didn’t happen.

  Billy closed the doors to the armoire and said, “Let’s get out of here before she wakes up and catches us. She’s been through enough already. She doesn’t need to find us betraying her.”

  “I can’t imagine what her life was like with him, but if it was so bad, why did she stay?”

  “Because I loved him,” Savannah said.

  Startled, Billy and I jumped.

  “I thought he would change, but he only got worse.” She sat up in bed, sober as could be. “He had a thing for taking pictures. He photographed me nude, and the more I cried, the more he loved it. I was so ashamed. I told you he had a problem with drugs. He’s the one who stole those pills. And, yes, that’s Andrea’s finger. They had an argument and she pointed her finger at him, so he cut it off. He said she deserved it, and he was proud of what he did. He said it would teach her not to assume she had the right to defy him. That’s what kind of man he was. When he showed me the jar, I knew he really needed help, but he wouldn’t listen to me. Now you know the real McCoy. What you saw on the outside wasn’t the person he was on the inside.”

  “I can see that now,” Billy said.

  I was angry that she pulled a fast one on us by pretending to be drunk. “You faker!” I accused. “You weren’t drunk. You were lying to us again! Liar, liar. Pants on fire.”

  “Me? What about you? As soon as you thought I was passed out, you started going through my stuff. What kind of friend does that?”

  I didn’t say anything. What could I say? She was right. What kind of friend was I?

  “And, yeah, I was acting drunk, because people say all kinds of things around a drunken person. They don’t think we’re capable of paying attention. I knew you were up to something when you showed up right after your mother left. I wondered why she kept asking me all those questions. Now I know. Did you send her over here to pry into my business? How could you do that? I trusted your mother. She’s always been so kind to me. She was a true friend. Not like you.”