Murder, Mayhem and Bliss

by Loulou Harrington

  “Well, I really appreciate your taking the time to talk to me, Mrs. Windsor.” Joe rose, signaling an end to the interview. “You’ve been a huge help.”

  “No, I haven’t,” she snapped, her feistiness returning in a flash. “I don’t know a damned thing about what actually happened to him. And, apparently, neither do you.”

  Chapter Five

  “Oh, dear, God, what’s taking so long?” Bliss sat in a straight-backed garden chair, hugging herself tightly and rocking back and forth like a baby soothing itself.

  Jesse had long since figured out why there had been a champagne party that morning. The rapidly sobering Bliss Kerr was becoming a basketcase, and Jesse was seriously regretting the coffee she had pumped into her.

  “What’s happening?” Bliss held out a pleading hand. “Do you know what’s happening?”

  Jesse sat down next to her and accepted the hand that reached out so desperately, but she wasn’t about to offer any information.

  “Something’s happened to Harry,” Bliss said in what was becoming a refrain. “I just know something’s happened to Harry.”

  “I really don’t know anything,” Jesse said.

  “Yes, you do,” the younger woman said in a tone that sounded a lot like her great aunt’s. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. People don’t just show up at Aunt Viv’s door unannounced.”

  Fluffy and sweet as cotton candy earlier, Bliss seemed to be unraveling around the edges. Bits of blond hair stood out at odd angles. The cinnamon eyes were tinged pink from tears, as was the rosy tip of her formerly pristine nose.

  “Bliss, honey,” Jesse took the younger woman’s hands in her own and leaned forward. “Listen to me. Sheriff Tyler is still here. He’s not done with you yet, and you are falling apart way too soon. You have got to get a grip on yourself.”

  “I know.” Bliss closed her eyes, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “I know.” Then she opened her eyes again and looked into Jesse’s. “I’ve never even dated anyone else. Did you know that? Harry’s not a perfect man, but he’s the only one I’ve ever had. I’ve tried to imagine my life without him, and I can’t.”

  Jesse tried to imagine a life that limited, and she couldn’t. But she knew Bliss was sincere. Some people grew up strong and independent, and some people didn’t. Some people learned it along the way, and some people never had to.

  “Bliss,” Jesse said slowly, picking her words from among all the things that couldn’t be said. “I don’t think Harry has exactly been a rock for you. At least, not for a long time. I think you’ve been on your own a lot more than you want to think you have. Take it from someone who’s been there, being on your own can be pretty nice.”

  “You lost someone, didn’t you?” Bliss asked softly. “A long time ago.”

  Jesse smiled, while wishing secretly she could find a trap door out of this conversation. “I’ve lost quite a few people, one way or another, and gotten quite a few of them back again,” she acknowledged. “But I guess you’re probably talking about Michael.”

  Bliss nodded wordlessly, as if she didn’t know where to go once she had brought up the subject.

  “Do you ever talk to Vivian about him?” Jesse asked, hoping there was nothing left to discuss.

  “She never talks about Michael,” Bliss answered almost reluctantly. “Not to me. Not to anyone. Does she ever talk to you about him?”

  “Sometimes, not a lot,” Jesse admitted. “Sometimes, we can’t avoid it.”

  Michael had been Vivian’s only child, and Jesse’s childhood friend, along with Fisher, another neighborhood boy. By the time they were in high school, Jesse and Michael had become sweethearts, and along with Fisher had formed an inseparable trio. They went everywhere together, did everything together, until that one night their senior year when Michael went for a spontaneous midnight drive alone in the souped up hot rod he had just finished rebuilding.

  He never made it home. Just before dawn, the police had found the car crumpled headfirst into the trunk of a giant cottonwood tree, three-quarters of the way through a sharp curve in the road. Michael had died instantly of a broken neck, and nothing in Jesse’s life would ever be the same.

  “I’m so sorry.” Bliss gently squeezed Jesse’s arm. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  Pulling herself out of the memories from so long ago, Jesse shrugged off the sadness that always came with thoughts of Micheal. “No, really, it’s okay. And you’re right. Losing someone is never easy, and it’s not something you ever really get over.”

  “But, still,” Bliss insisted, “this isn’t the time. I don’t know why I even thought about it.”

  “No, now is fine,” Jesse said again. “But we’re about to be interrupted any minute. So, I’ll make you a promise. Someday soon, we’ll sit down, split a bottle of wine, and I’ll tell you all about it. You never knew him, did you?”

  Bliss shook her head. “I was still a baby. I don’t remember him at all. I just remember how sad Aunt Viv was for so long.”

  “It’s hard to lose a child,” Jesse said softly. The sorrow that would probably never go away completely bubbled up inside her again. “Michael was one of those larger-than-life people. And his death… that kind of thing is just so senseless.”

  Changing the subject back to one of immediate importance, she reached over and patted Bliss on the arm. “But you, young lady, you still have to face Sheriff Tyler again today. And for your own sake, you’re going to have to hold it together when you do.”

  “I feel better now,” Bliss assured her. “Thank you.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Yes, you did.” Bliss bobbed her head and laughed like a little girl. “I don’t know why, but I feel happier. Aunt Vivian says you’re like magic. You just always make things better.”

  At a loss for words, and fairly certain Vivian would swallow her tongue before she would say that to Jesse herself, Jesse was caught off guard when Joe Tyler suddenly appeared in the sunroom doorway.

  He cleared his throat and Bliss’s laughter evaporated like a vampire in sunlight. “Uh, if I could, Mrs. Kerr, I’d like to speak with you again for a moment. Your aunt’s waiting for us in the library.”

  Casting a quick, desperate glance toward Jesse, Bliss attempted to rise and faltered. Jesse stood and guided the other woman up with her. She could feel Bliss shaking while her breathing became a series of shallow gasps.

  “Relax,” Jesse whispered. “You can’t fall apart before you even talk to him.”

  Bliss’s eyelids fluttered wildly. “Apparently, I can.” The words came out in a breathless wheeze.

  Jesse laughed, a wholly inappropriate reaction, and one that was noted by the watching sheriff in the doorway. The quirk of his brow was a dead giveaway. Just as inappropriately, Bliss giggled. Then she squeezed Jesse’s hand, squared her shoulders and marched off like someone headed bravely to the guillotine.

  Joe Tyler moved aside to let her pass, then focused his flinty gaze on Jesse before turning to follow the young widow inside. And she was a widow. Jesse was sure of that. There were too many things adding up to it to ignore the fact any longer.

  What she didn’t know was whether it was accidental, natural causes, or something more sinister. She had a feeling that the sheriff wasn’t sure either, and for that reason he was still tiptoeing lightly around the person who would be the main suspect in a case of foul play.

  Just the thought gave her a cold shiver. She didn’t really know Bliss very well, but she knew Vivian. Any threat to a loved one was as good as a battle cry to the older woman. And everyone near her would get swept into the battle, especially Jesse, whom Vivian liked to call her strong right arm. The only problem was that, at the moment, that right arm was not very well liked by Sheriff Tyler. In fact, that right arm had been warned to stay the hell out of his way if it knew what was good for it.

  And it was all so unfair. If he hadn’t been so unreasonable, trying to give Sophia a ticket for public i
ntoxication, when she was just walking home from the dentist’s office because she was well aware she shouldn’t be driving. And, okay, maybe Sophia was right, and the sheriff hadn’t been planning to give her a ticket until Jesse showed up to rescue her mother and had gotten into an argument with him.

  But the whole upshot was that he was not a very forgiving man, and now he got all swelled up and irritated every time Jesse got anywhere near him. And if she tried to do anything to help or defend Bliss, even at Vivian’s direction, Jesse’s involvement was probably just going to make things worse.

  And the whole thing was so embarrassing she couldn’t bring herself to explain the problem. Sophia knew, of course, but it was her opinion that if Jesse wasn’t 50 going on 10, the whole thing would never have escalated to the point it did. Reluctantly, Jesse admitted to herself that maybe she should make one more try to patch things up with old, sullen Joe. If it would keep his feelings for her from spilling over into his dealings with Bliss or Vivian, it would be worth whatever humiliation she ended up bringing down on herself.

  Just then, a scream that could have been the death cry of any large, wounded animal came through the open window of the library, carrying on the air around the corner of the house and into the garden.

  ∙∙∙•••●●●•••∙∙∙

  Shocked, Joe stopped in mid-sentence and watched Bliss Kerr collapse in a heap on the library sofa. Wild sobs shook her after the scream that had rendered him speechless.

  “Could you have possibly been any more ham-fisted?” Vivian asked in disgust as she rose and went to her wailing, prostrate niece. Lifting Bliss’s head, Vivian scooted in under her and re-draped Bliss across her lap. “There, there, dear,” she crooned, patting a heaving shoulder.

  “There’s only so many ways you can say a person’s deceased,” Joe defended. “I’ve never gotten that reaction before.”

  “Oh, my, God,” Bliss cried between sobs. “What am I going to do?”

  At least that’s what it sounded like to him. The words were pretty garbled. “Will she be able to stay here with you for a day or so?” he asked Vivian in a soft voice that he hoped was covered by the loud sobbing. “The house and grounds are, uh…” He made a circle with his finger to indicate the yellow tape that had everything cordoned off at the Kerr house. “Until the cause of death is determined, we’ll have to keep everyone out.”

  Another loud wail interrupted him, indicating that his voice wasn’t soft enough to mask the meaning of his words. “I’ll need to talk to her again, when she’s feeling better,” he said, giving up the interview for now. “Do you happen to know if he was taking any medicines?”

  “None that I know of. He was only 36, and like I said, still fairly athletic.” Vivian kept her voice low and soothing as she continued to pat Bliss’s shuddering shoulder.

  “No blood pressure problems? Seems like his job might have been kind of high tension.”

  Vivian’s mouth puckered and then released while a furrow of distaste flickered briefly across her immaculately smooth brow. “It was my impression that Harold Kerr was more of the type to give blood pressure problems than to have them himself. He enjoyed his life, Sheriff. I never observed any regret in him.”

  Appreciating her struggle not to speak ill of the dead, while still expressing her disdain, Joe smothered his grin and kept his question focused on business. “So I take it that you don’t think he was suicidal?”

  “Not an ounce of him. He had everything he’d ever wanted. He was completely happy with himself.”

  “Oh, come on now.” Joe shook his head in general disagreement. “It’s hard to say that of anybody.”

  Bliss lifted her head, her beautiful face streaked with tears, and pulled a tissue from the box on the coffee table. “She’s right.” She dried her eyes with the first tissue, retrieved another and blew her nose. Still sniffling, she confirmed, “He lived his life the way he wanted, and when he chose to come home, he came home to a comfortable life.” She slowly unfolded into a sitting position next to her aunt. “He ate well, slept well and played hard. And he was successful. That pretty much takes care of everything he ever cared about.” Her breath caught at the end, but there were no more tears.

  “Anybody have a grudge against him?” Joe asked quietly, hoping to get a tough question out there before everything went to hell again.

  Vivian made a huffing sound, batted her eyes and looked toward the fireplace to the side of her.

  Bliss glanced at her briefly, then stared at her own hands balled in her lap. “He’s had two business partners that he’s left in the dust over the years. I’m sure some of the women he’s seen had husbands. He wasn’t above cheating to get what he wanted, and he didn’t waste time apologizing or making amends.” Her words were soft but matter of fact.

  “I think what Bliss is trying to say,” Vivian chimed in, “is that we said he was happy. We didn’t say anyone else was happy. I will say, that in his own way, he was probably more faithful to Bliss than he ever was to anyone else.”

  Once again, a deep, heaving sob followed by a wail and another sideways collapse into her great aunt’s lap brought the questions and answers to a halt. Joe was going to reserve his judgment if it killed him, but he couldn’t help thinking that Harry Kerr was way luckier than he had a right to be, and that despite everything, he had a wife who had continued to love him. That didn’t mean she couldn’t have killed him, if it turned out that anyone had, but it was beginning to sound like so could half of Waite County.

  Chapter Six

  Joe made it all the way to his truck before his phone rang. He took a deep breath, turned around and leaned his back against the door, foot braced behind him. He hadn’t realized until that moment of relaxation, just how tired he was.

  He pushed the connect button on the phone, noting as he did that it was Frank Haney calling. “You got anything for me?” he asked.

  “Hey, boss. We found the phone, and Marla took it in to get somebody started processing it. We also found a pretty good sized parking lot down a trail behind the swimming pool. It enters off a county road behind the property, so you could have an army coming and going without anybody in the main house seeing a thing. There’s also a small poolhouse back in behind the trees and what looks like maybe a gardener’s hut.”

  “Damn.” Joe leaned all the way back against the truck and lifted his gaze to the sunny, blue sky overhead. “You see any sign of somebody else being out there?”

  “Plenty. There’s car tracks, shoe tracks, lawnmower tracks, wheelbarrow tracks, and a few tracks we couldn’t tell what the hell they belonged to. We made plaster casts of anything that looked significant. You talked to Arnie?”

  Joe perked up, brought his gaze back down to earth, and squared his stance up on both booted feet. “Not for awhile. Should I?”

  “Well, Marla called. Said it looked like Arnie was making some progress when she stopped by. He was looking real hard at something on the guy’s neck.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, and the best part. We found something else while we were rummaging around in the bushes looking for that phone. There was a picture, looked like it blew in under a bush.” Frank paused, then said slowly and distinctly, “Very recently. Very. It’s in almost perfect condition. And you won’t believe what it’s a picture of.”

  Joe took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He was used to Frank’s long, drawn out stories, but, Lord, the man could try the patience of Job. And Joe was not Job. “Are you going to tell me, Frank?” he asked, trying to control the snarl he felt coming on.

  “It was a nude shot of Mr. Kerr in bed with a young lady who was not Mrs. Kerr,” Frank answered promptly, realizing that he might have pushed his superior just a little too far.

  “The hell you say.” Joe paced across the driveway, wheeled and paced back. “Could you recognize her?”

  “She looked real familiar. All of us thought we’d seen her somewhere, but we couldn’t place her. Marla took th
at back with her, too, so maybe they know more by now.”

  “Well, this thing isn’t getting any less complicated, is it?” Joe scrubbed his free hand across the back of his neck, feeling the weight of the day pressing in on him. Too much drama, too much emotion, too many unanswered questions. “Are you done out there?”

  “I think so. Todd and I were thinking of grabbing some lunch and then going back on patrol if you didn’t have anything else in mind for us.”

  “That sounds good. Something in this day needs to get back to normal. I guess I’ll head into the office and check in with Arnie, and maybe get a look at that picture. It’s got to have something to do with all of this, or it wouldn’t have been there.”

  “Yeah,” Frank agreed. “That’s what I was thinking. My gut’s starting to tell me this looks more like retribution than natural causes.”

  Joe expelled a long sigh. “Boy, I hate it when you say what I’ve been trying not to think.”

  Frank laughed. “Well, you can take consolation in how many times my gut’s been wrong over the years. Maybe that picture just gave him a nice, simple heart attack.”

  “We can all hope,” Joe said dolefully. Then he hit the button to end the call, turned to get into his truck and ran, quite literally, into the soft, feminine curves of the body blocking his path.

  “Pardon me,” he said, his arms automatically encircling her to stop her from going to the ground.

  Jolted by the unexpected physical contact as much as by the collision with what felt like a tree trunk, Jesse reeled backwards. “My bad,” she said pulling herself from the oddly comforting embrace. “Completely, my bad.”

  Even as the words left her mouth, she thought that she really needed to stop hanging out so much with nineteen-year-olds and work harder at talking like an adult. Then she looked up and saw Sheriff Tyler standing stone-faced, staring down at her, his hands on his hips.

  “You.”

  The word pretty much summed up their relationship—she stumbling, he disapproving. And once again, they were off to their normal rocky start. Jesse shrugged. “I really just came to extend an olive branch.”