Color Me Dead (Henry Park Book 1)

by Trent, Teresa

  After less than a moment, Mitch and Darla returned to the table, Darla leading the way. This made me question if Darla had come voluntarily or if I was witnessing a chase.

  “Sweetheart, so glad you could join us.” Tim kissed her on the cheek as she sat. Katy stiffened.

  Darla brushed off his embrace. I wasn’t sure if this was the right moment, but I decided to ask her if she had been questioned over the cigar butt. “So, Darla, have you heard anything new on Amelia’s murder?”

  “No. Not much more than anybody else here at this table.”

  Mitch grabbed a bun out of the breadbasket. “You were probably one of the last people to see her alive. How does that feel?”

  Darla’s shoulders grew rigid. “Don’t you mean the last person before the killer?”

  She was way too wily to fall into a trap like that. I continued, “Of course, I do. So you think the killer is a man who had an affair with Amelia?”

  “It seems so. Amelia was always a little bit of a flirt. It makes perfect sense.” Her gaze slipped to Tim. How long would it be before she realized it wasn’t the women flirting with Tim, but Tim flirting with the women?

  Love is blind, even with someone like Darla.

  “So, Gabby, have you had any of your little drawings surface? Are you asking these questions because you know who the murderer is?”

  I had to give her credit. She was at least acknowledging I had some sort of ability. Even so, I didn’t feel ready to share what I knew. Not here and not now. “Nothing definite, but I’m very … very close.”

  Darla rose from the table, finished with her dessert. “Are we done with this little party? I feel a headache coming on.”

  “Certainly, dear.” Tim rose from the table. Katy rose at the other end, grabbing Timmy, who had finished his dessert and was now working on Elise’s. Unbelievably, Tim had transported his two little families in the same car. “Clarence, Gabby, congratulations. I wish you all the success in the world.”

  “Thank you, Tim. That means a lot to me,” Clarence said. As Tim and his brood neared the door, Wilma walked up onto the porch.

  “Hey, folks. Did I interrupt a party?”

  Clarence stepped up. “Yes! We’re celebrating my entrance into the world of independent publishing. Come in and have a glass of wine with us.”

  “You don’t have to ask twice.” Wilma entered carrying a cloth shopping bag over her shoulder.

  Elise poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her.

  “To being independent,” Wilma said as she raised her glass. “There’s nothing like it.”

  “Here, here.” Clarence agreed.

  After taking a gulp of her wine, Wilma picked up the cloth bag. “I’m glad I found you all together because I have some things that belong to you.”

  “Excuse me?” Darla said as she peered into the bag. “Is that my cardinal figurine?”

  Wilma pulled it out of the cloth sack. “I’m afraid so. I was just cleaning out Amelia’s things and found this. I think she collected items from all of the houses she cleaned. I recognized the little bird from your window. It’s a shameful thing on her part, and the best I can do is return them to their rightful owners.” She continued to take items out of the bag. Clarence jumped up when a small wooden statue of two boys fishing came out.

  “Well, I’ll be. I didn’t even notice this was gone.”

  Ryan stroked his chin as he surveyed the belongings. “Makes me wonder if she might have had something to do with the robberies going on around here.”

  “Amelia?” Elise asked. “That girl was not a thief.”

  Katy nodded in agreement with Ryan. “Cleaning people have access to everything. It would have been easy for her.”

  “You can never be too sure about people,” Wilma said.

  “And that is why I intend to report this to Sheriff Bennett,” Darla said, pulling out her cell phone.

  Mitch put his hand over Darla’s, causing her to stop pushing buttons.

  “Come on. She probably just took these few things, and that was it. She didn’t have much, cleaning houses, and none of these things are worth any money. It’s just a young woman’s folly. That’s all.”

  Clarence held up his statue to the light. “I suppose you’re right. Looks fine to me. I can certainly forgive something like this. Gabby, here, was just telling us she has been having some psychic revelations about dear Amelia’s death.”

  Wilma raised her eyebrows. “I knew it!”

  “Yes. I’m working on honing in on the killer’s face.”

  “What did you see?” Wilma asked.

  “I think Amelia knew who killed her. She felt like she was being watched.”

  Wilma crunched the bag she was holding up to her chest as she digested the information.

  “Really quite sad. She had a rough time with Billy. He was such a womanizer, and I know for a fact he ran around with several of our single ladies in town. Sometimes I wondered if it was one of them who killed him in the end. Then Amelia felt like she was being watched?” Clarence asked.

  “You know I do have one thing,” I said as all eyes turned toward me.

  “I thought you said you were working on it?” Darla’s tone was dismissive.

  “I lied, a little. I made a drawing of the killer.”

  Once again, the room was focused on me. “This is getting interesting,” Katy said.

  Wilma’s bag crinkled again. “A picture? Like what you draw for Clarence?”

  “It’s a form of automatic writing. I usually don’t get a clear enough result to come up with much, but this time it was as if my focus couldn’t be stronger.”

  “So who is it?” Darla asked.

  “I know who it is, but I’ve decided to show it to Sheriff Bennett first thing tomorrow. Maybe this person has an alibi, and the last thing I want to do is to go around making accusations that might injure another person’s reputation. You can understand that, can’t you? It’s not like I have one-hundred-percent proof I’m right.”

  “Amen, Sister,” Mitch said.

  “Finally, you’ve said something that makes sense,” Ryan said. “You are probably better off just ripping that picture out of your notebook and burning it. There’s no evidence behind your claim. It might just be a suspicion you have buried in your subconscious coming out in your sketches.”

  “Absolutely,” I agreed. He was making my case for me. I certainly didn’t want to reveal the killer here and now. I was sure I would get a visitor tonight, but unlike Amelia, I would be ready.

  Chapter 34

  “That had to be the craziest thing you’ve ever done. Do you realize now if the killer was in the room, you are the person most likely to be killed next? Had you thought of that?” Mitch placed a dish of leftovers that Elise had thoughtfully packed for us in the refrigerator.

  I kicked off my espadrilles and pulled my hair loose of its ponytail. “Of course I had. That’s why I did it. I wanted to flush out the killer.”

  My phone buzzed. It was Gigi.

  Killer close.

  I texted her back: I know. I was worried she would try to get someone to bring her over. Where are you now?

  At home with parents.

  Good. Stay there.

  Can come.

  Stay. Be safe.

  Mitch threw his hands up in the air. Mr. “Animal House” himself could see the gravity of the situation better than I could. “Can you hear yourself right now? What sane person wants to flush out a killer? Most people go directly to the police with information on a murderer. You try to draw them out.”

  I turned around and locked the front door. “Go to the sheriff. Right. We just went to the sheriff and lied about where we found the cigar butt. It’s not like he’s on our side. Why did we do that? Because if he knew we were operating on my Spidey sense, he’d throw both of us out of the joint, or maybe into the joint.”

  Mitch considered my words and then walked over and threw himself onto the couch. “Fine, but it still
feels like an incredibly easy way to get killed. You know, I’ve made some choices in my life I’m not proud of, and if you had asked me who would get us into a mess like this, I’d have chosen myself.”

  “Us? As in we’re united?”

  Mitch sat up. “Do you think for one minute I’m going to leave my sister alone to be attacked by some crazy cigar-smoking killer? I’m a better guy than that.”

  It was true. Mitch was a better guy. All those years of negative press about him from my mother had caused me not to shape my own opinion but to be shaped by hers. I plopped on the couch next to him, causing the cushions to bounce.

  I grinned. “So, what do you say, want to see a scary movie?”

  Mitch reached for the remote. “There ought to be some zombie thing on somewhere.”

  “No zombies.”

  “You said scary. Zombies are scary.” And so we started into an old routine that always ended up with us watching his movie. As the undead moved across the screen in a steady beat with intent to kill the uninfected people, I had to hope nothing was running toward our house with the same goal in mind.

  An hour later, just as the zombies had formed a complete circle around the boarded-up house, I sat on the couch with my knees pulled up to my chin. Mitch, on the other hand, was being strong, but I did notice he had pulled the visor of his baseball cap extremely low, blocking his eyes when needed. The tall zombie who used to be an insurance salesman mounted the steps and began pulling the boards off. The end was near. What had they nailed those boards up with? Thumbtacks? Scotch tape? Old gum?

  Boom! There came a pounding on our door, and both Mitch and I jumped off the couch. Luigi jumped to his feet and growled at our otherworldly intruder. Somewhere in the back of my zombie-addled brain, I was sure there was an insurance salesman with an eyeball missing standing on our porch.

  “Gabby?”

  “Oh God. It knows your name,” Mitch squealed.

  “Gabby, are you in there?” I took in a breath as I realized whose voice I was hearing. I opened the door as Mitch stood protectively behind me.

  “Mom? What a surprise.” She had no idea how truthful that statement was.

  “I knocked on the door, but your TV was so loud I don’t think you heard me.”

  Luigi came over and promptly licked my mother’s arm. She pulled away, and in my mother’s mind, I knew she was calculating the germs he had just shared with her. She had on her trademark blue gabardine slacks and white silk blouse.

  “Hey, Mom,” Mitch said with a little wave.

  The niceties over, our mother walked into the house and put her purse on the kitchen table. Dropping her keys inside, she turned to the both of us.

  “I’m glad you’re both here. After our last discussion, I decided it was time to take matters back into my own hands. Mitch, I want you to pack your bags. As soon as I get permission from the sheriff, we’re returning home. I have a friend who will let you work in her store for the rest of the summer. It’s minimum wage, I know, not a real working person’s salary, but you have to start somewhere.”

  “What are you talking about? Why would I want to leave?” Mitch asked.

  “Well, for one thing, there’s that little item of you getting into trouble—in what, under a month? That has to be a record for you, Mitch. Frankly, with Gabby here I’m a little surprised at your actions.” She turned to me, “Just where were you when your brother needed you? I put you here because I thought I could count on you.”

  I walked over and turned off the TV just as the zombies invaded the house and started eating the brains of the defenseless people inside. I couldn’t believe she wanted to repeat this conversation. She just couldn’t let it go. “Mom, I think we need to discuss this. Come sit down.”

  My mother bristled but then, holding her hands close to her chest, sat on our somewhat lumpy couch. Finding a fairly smooth spot, she turned to me. “There is nothing to discuss, Gabby. I was surprised by your reaction, but I don’t want you to feel guilty. That’s all you were feeling, dear. I thought you could handle him, but, well …”

  “Just wait a minute, won’t you?”

  Her eyes drew a blank. I was nothing more than a gnat flying by during her I’m-here-to-save-you speech. “Wait for what, dear?”

  “She means you need to stop talking and listen to her,” Mitch said.

  “What do you mean? Of course, I’m listening to her. I’m not deaf.”

  I could already tell this was going to be more than a simple conversation. “Mom, I don’t want you to take Mitch home with you. I think he’s doing just fine right here.”

  “Just fine.” She regarded me as if I had uttered nonsense. “Just fine? I don’t think being arrested for murder is doing just fine. If a woman was killed, and he was questioned, then that would have to mean he was someplace he shouldn’t have been. This, sadly, is not a new pattern for Mitchell. If he can’t choose the right activities to pursue, then I will have to choose them for him.”

  “Excuse me,” Mitch raised his hand. “Does Mitchell get a choice in this matter?”

  “Of course you do, dear. But right now, I’m going to … lead the way.”

  I threw my head back and laughed. A nervousness came over my mother. She had no idea why I was laughing. “Lead the way? Don’t you mean to have your way? Isn’t that what you always do? The whole time I was growing up you were trying to ‘lead the way.’ I would never have become an artist if I hadn’t kept it from you until graduation. The only difference between Mitch and me is he was lousy at covering his tracks.”

  “Now, that’s not true, dear. You were a perfect student. You were the perfect daughter.”

  “I wasn’t perfect!” I shouted. “I was just like Mitch. I was just like every kid ever born. Imperfect and happy with it. I never stopped smoking. Did you know that? Do you know what kind of pressure you put on someone when they think they have to constantly be perfect?”

  And then, for the first time in her life, my mother stopped talking.

  “Go Gabby,” Mitch whispered.

  Our mother rose from the couch, straightened the crease in her slacks, and pulled herself up, straightening her shoulders. “Fine. If that’s the way you feel about it, I will leave you here.”

  “Is this the end of this conversation?” I asked.

  Returning to her bag on the table, she fished out her keys and moved to the door. “Yes, and this is good-bye. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

  “You don’t have to go,” I told her.

  “Yes. It’s time for me to go.” She left without a sound.

  Mitch and I sat on the couch, stunned. We had just faced down the biggest obstacle in our lives. She was a caring mother, but she never seemed to let go. Tonight, she finally saw us as the adults we had become, not the errant teenagers she had frozen in her mind. I was a little sad to see her go; but then again, it was time.

  As Mitch and I sat back down on the couch and restarted the movie, zombies were approaching on the screen, and a siren rang out on the road where our mother was driving home.

  Chapter 35

  Mitch and I sprang to the windows of the house. The strobe of the red-and-blue lights on the roof of the police car was mesmerizing. Luigi was busy barking and leaving coats and coats of saliva on the window. I opened the door.

  “Are you going out there?” Mitch asked.

  “Sure. I’m not the one being arrested,” I said. Mitch appeared unsure of my statement. “And neither are you.”

  It was ironic I was leading the way, just as my mother had planned. Mitch followed, leaving Luigi to return to his post at the window.

  I crossed the lawn to the police car, which had another car pulled over. To my surprise, Mitch spoke first.

  “What happened here, Marlin?” Marlin was one of the cops he met when he was temporarily incarcerated.

  “Yo, Mitch. I think we’ve caught the Lake Henry burglars. They were just slipping out of the McFadden house with a pillowcase full of silver. The o
ther one had a couple of laptops. These jokers were trying to get that dish off the roof.”

  As Marlin handcuffed one of the boys, he sneered our way, resentful of the sideshow he had become. I instantly recognized him as the young man who had delivered flowers at Amelia’s funeral. He was also the kid I saw smoking at O’Henry’s. I had a hunch.

  “Are you Justin?”

  He gave a derisive nod. “What’s it to you?”

  “I was just wondering if you had a sister,” I said. The young man avoided eye contact.

  “Good one, Gab. You’re right. You’re Katy’s brother, aren’t you? That’s why Timmy called you Uncle Justin,” Mitch said.

  Marlin sat a handcuffed Justin in the backseat of his cruiser. “Wait a minute. Do you mean he has a sister out there?”

  “I ain’t got no sister. Shut up,” Justin shouted from the backseat of the car.

  “I kind of think you do. Hmmm. I wonder what Tim Hudson will think when he finds out his baby mama and mini-me are part of a burglary ring?”

  “I said shut up.”

  “Do you know where this sister is staying?” Marlin asked.

  “I think she’s in a hotel just off the highway.”

  Justin stretched his neck to speak through the half-open window. “She doesn’t have anything to do with this. Do you hear me?”

  Marlin radioed the dispatcher to send someone out to check for Katy at the hotel. “Thanks, man.” He high-fived Mitch. Apparently his arrest put him in the boys-in-blue club.

  “My pleasure,” Mitch returned.

  When the patrol cars finally stopped lighting up the lake property around our house, we returned to the couch. With so much going on, I actually forgot for a while we were waiting for the killer. Had the killer been out there and decided to leave when the police arrived?

  “Another movie?”

  “Sure, I’ll make some popcorn,” I told Mitch.

  Mitch picked up the remote and settled back onto the couch. “Not too much. We’re paying for it ourselves now.”