Death of a Coupon Queen

by Jenna Harte

  It was common knowledge that spouses were the first suspect, at least that was what the experts said on all the forensic shows Aunt Rose liked to watch. But Marla’s husband was out of town, which meant it couldn’t have been him. Except for the coupon group, Marla didn’t seem to get out much. She had a reputation for being a recluse. Who’d want to kill a homebody?

  I wondered if her husband had been contacted and was home yet. What a terrible thing to come home to. He travelled a lot, but he would be the best person to know who would want to kill Marla.

  Stay out of it, Sophie. My subconscious was right. I learned from the Cullen murder that I wasn’t built to be a sleuth. Unfortunately, my curiosity usually won out. Marla’s murder both fascinated and terrified me, the same way natural disasters did. I supposed it was from my desire to make sense of the world so I could keep myself safe. At least that’s what I told myself when I decided that since the grocery store was on the Monticello Heights side of town, I could stop by to see if there is anything Mr. Naylor needed, assuming I could get through the gate.

  I quickly made my grocery list and gathered my coupons. I scanned the room to make sure it was spotless, and then made my way to the kitchen. Aunt Rose was puttering around, making jam from the remaining huckleberries.

  “I’m going to the grocery store, Aunt Rose. Is there anything you want?” I decided not to mention Marla or my proposed detour to check on her husband.

  “Now Sophie, I’m knee deep in huckleberries and can’t think about lists right now.”

  “Okay.” I would suggest that she call me if she thought of anything, except she never ever called me on my cell phone. If she wanted something, she’d call the grocery store. I didn’t know why. I kept telling her that mobile phone meant I could get a call anywhere, but she insisted on calling the locations I was at if she wanted to reach me. Perhaps it was a generational thing.

  I headed straight to Monticello Heights and hoped the gate guard would let me in even though I didn’t live there and didn’t have an invention by someone who did. Lucky for me, Susy Maynard was at the gate. Not that she’d let me in, but she knew me and maybe she’d give me a break.

  “You can’t be here to see Mrs. Naylor. You heard what happened, didn’t you?” Susy looked down at me from the guard booth. I was surprised she didn’t know I was the one who found Marla yesterday.

  “Yes, I heard. I just thought since her husband was new and out of town a lot, he might want some help . . . you know . . . picking a funeral home or . . . help with Marla’s things.”

  Susy studied me for a minute. “I guess that would be alright, although I’m not sure he’s here. He hasn’t come through today.”

  “I’ll leave him a note if he’s not in.”

  Susy shrugged and reached over to push the button that lifted the gate. I thanked her and drove through.

  Monticello Heights was originally developed in the 1980s, and construction of new homes have continued. As a result, there was a mishmash of old and new nestled together. The community was designed for the affluent, and whether the house was a ranch, a cape cod, or some version of colonial, it was large and sat on at least an acre of land.

  Marla’s home was a brick Tudor built sometime after I’d left for college. I was gone most of the time since then, so I didn’t know the family that had lived there before her. All I knew was the rumor that their teenage daughter could sing, and they moved to Los Angeles. A famous person from Jefferson Grove would be a big deal. The fact that no one talked about it told me she hadn’t made it.

  I parked my car in the drive and walked up the path to the door. Even before I reached it, I could see the yellow crime scene tape zig zagging across the entry. Once I made it to the porch, I had to sidestep a package that was too big for the mailbox.

  A card was shoved into the doorframe. I leaned closer to look at it. It was Sergeant Scowl’s business card with a scrawled note presumably for Mr. Naylor to call him.

  I frowned. Did that mean Sergeant Scowl hadn’t reached Mr. Naylor? Why else leave a card and note to call if they’d contacted him by phone?

  I looked back down at the package and wondered what would happen to the mail if Mr. Naylor didn’t come back soon? Monticello Heights was generally a safe neighborhood, but that didn’t mean someone wouldn’t get burgled if it was obvious no one was home, crime scene tape or not. I decided I’d let Lani know and she could tell Sergeant Scowl.

  As I headed back to my car, it occurred to me that no one had ever seen Mr. Naylor. Even traveling a lot, I’d think someone would have seen him.

  When I went to open the car door, Ellie’s house caught my eye. She’d know about Mr. Naylor. She was his neighbor.

  I crossed the narrow-mulched area between Marla and Ellie’s homes and headed to Ellie’s door. I had second thoughts as I reached the porch. She had her hands full taking care of her sick husband 24-7. She didn’t me poking my nose in her neighbor’s business.

  Before I could turn away, the door opened.

  “Sophie? Everything alright?”

  “Hello Mrs. Tappen. Yes. I was just next door to see if Mr. Naylor needed anything. Apparently, he’s not home.”

  She glanced at the Naylor house and then back at me. “Sad business about Mrs. Naylor. I haven’t seen him.”

  “Ever?”

  She looked a little surprised by my question.

  “No one seems to have ever seen him,” I clarified.

  Her brows knitted together in thought. “I’m not sure I have either. I’ve seen his car. I’m pretty sure it’s his car. I’ve been here nearly thirty years, so I know most people’s cars. His was a sleek looking sedan . . . dark . . . Audi or Lexus maybe. It certainly wasn’t the kind of car I’d have thought a middle-aged man newly rich from winning the lottery would drive though. A man like that would get a fancy sportscar.”

  “You never saw him?”

  “Him. No.” She opened the door. “Why don’t you come in. It’s getting mighty hot out there.”

  “Oh, I don’t want to bother you.”

  She waved her hand. “It’s no bother, Sophie. I could use the company. You know I don’t get out much anymore with Al incapacitated. It’s his naptime now. He sleeps more and more these days, bless his soul.”

  I thought it would be rude to refuse since she was probably lonely. The news around town was that she ordered everything she required online, and what she couldn’t order, a group of ladies from the Baptist Church would deliver. I thought my world got small when I moved back to Jefferson Tavern from New York City. Ellie Tappen’s world was miniscule.

  I followed Ellie through the open door into her two-story Greek-revival colonial home, with giant white pillars that made me think of Gone with the Wind. Inside there was the traditional colonial floor plan, with the dining room to the left and formal living room to the right. A stairway with a powder room hidden underneath was along the central hallway that led back to an open kitchen and family room. The color scheme gave away the age of the home with its 80’s dusted colors. The formal living room was mauve, the dining room a smoky blue, and kitchen and family room were accented in teal.

  “Would you like some tea?” She motioned for me to sit at the eat-in section of her kitchen that had a view of the woods behind the house and glimpse of Marla’s garden out to the side. Like her mail, I wondered who’d take care of Marla’s garden. “It’s sweet, of course.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Well I wasn’t sure. I know you’ve been living up north and I hear they drink their tea unsweet.”

  “They offer both.”

  Ellie made a face as she handed me the cool class of tea. “Tea isn’t right if it isn’t sweet.”

  I smiled. “I agree.”

  She sat across from me. “I heard that Vivie Danner was arrested.”

  “Detained. I don’t think she’s be
en arrested.” I was sure Lani would have called or texted if Vivie was officially arrested.

  “Can they do that?”

  I shrugged. “I guess so. Up to seventy-two hours, I think.” I didn’t know that for sure. Chances were, I heard it from a TV show.

  Ellie shook her head. “I tell you, Sophie, I feel guilty about that.”

  “Why?” I wiped a drip of condensation from my glass.

  “Well, after Mrs. Naylor was found, Lawson Davis was over here questioning me and of course, I had to tell him what I saw.”

  I leaned forward. “What did you see?”

  “I saw Vivie Danner traipsing along the deer path back in the woods from her house to Mrs. Naylor’s. I didn’t think anything of it, because it wasn’t the first time. I told him I’d run into you as well.” Ellie reached over and patted my hand. “I’m sure glad they didn’t detain you. Not that I’m glad they have Vivie, but well . . . I like you better, Sophie.”

  I smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Anyway, I told Lawson about seeing Vivie going over there.”

  I frowned as I remembered a question from the coupon group the night before. “How did she get into the house?”

  Ellie sat for a moment. “I assumed Marla let her in.” If Ellie told the police that Marla had let her in, no wonder they suspected her. It suggested Marla was alive when Vivie showed up. But Vivie had been adamant that Vivie was dead when she arrived.

  “What if Marla was already dead? The back door was locked. I had to break a window to get in.”

  “There’s a side door to the mudroom at the side of her house. The path between our homes practically goes right to it. That’s where she usually went.”

  I wondered if Vivie knew Ellie kept such close tabs on the goings-ons on her cul-de-sac. “It’s strange that such a quiet person would cause someone to murder them. As far as I can tell, everyone liked her. Was there anyone else who visited her?”

  “Not really.” Ellie’s face scrunched up as if something was occurring to her. “She used to offer Junior Junior Mason something to drink after his work. He was known to spend time with his lady clients.” Ellie waggled her brows suggesting his visit were clandestine. “I think he had a thing for her.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “He often did extra things for her on days her home wasn’t on his schedule. He also looked like a schoolboy when he talked her, blushing and stammering.” Ellie laughed. “It was sort of cute, actually.”

  “Did she return his affection?” I remembered running into Junior Junior after the murder. He gave the impression that he was concerned, but who wouldn’t be?

  “Oh, I don’t know, like I said, she often invited him over even on days he wasn’t working on her yard. I never saw anything suspicious,” Ellie quickly added. “They’d sit on her back patio and talk.”

  I looked out the window, but couldn’t see her patio and wondered how Ellie had seen them.

  “Al and I sit out in the sunroom sometimes. That’s when I’d see Junior Junior at Mrs. Naylor’s,” Ellie said answering my unasked question.

  “Maybe she was getting gardening tips.”

  “I suppose so.” Ellie looked out at Marla’s garden. “For the life of me, I don’t know why she planted that thing there.”

  “What’s wrong with where she planted it?”

  “Gardens tend to expand, and hers is about to come into my yard.”

  I studied Ellie. She didn’t seem the type to have a feud with her neighbor over boundary lines.

  “It’s not that big of deal now, but at some point, Al will be gone, and I won’t be able to stay in this house. When I sell it, I don’t want any issues with the survey. Do you remember that hubbub a few years back when Godfrey Cramer wanted to sell his land, and there was the dispute about the trees his neighbor planted? Godfrey ended up setting those trees on fire and burning both their homes down.”

  I snorted as I shook my head. “I hadn’t heard about that.”

  “That’s right, you were gone. Crazy stuff happens, I tell you, when it comes to land ownership, and I don’t need any of that nonsense in my life.”

  “No. No one does.”

  “So, you don’t think Vivie did it?” Ellie asked.

  “I don’t know for sure. I can’t imagine why.”

  Ellie shivered. “Dreadful way to go.”

  “I do think it had to be someone who knew her.”

  “Really.” Ellie’s eyes widened in intrigue.

  “I’m not a detective, but the killer used her scissors and was able to get close enough to stab her with them. It seems like a crime of opportunity.”

  Ellie nodded. “I bet it was the husband. I watch ID TV and husbands are always the main suspect.”

  “Was his car here recently?”

  Ellie bit her lip as she thought. “I can’t remember. That doesn’t mean he didn’t come in the dead of night. My days are full and once I go to sleep, I’m out like a light. I tell you, Sophie, I worry sometimes my Al will need me at night and I’ll sleep right through it because I’m exhausted.”

  It was my turn to pat her hand. “You do so much for him.”

  “Al would have done the same for me.”

  I wondered if AJ and I would ever have that kind of love. Right now, we were in the phase where the relationship was exciting and new. I cared for him a lot, and I was pretty sure he felt the same. However, the ‘L’ word had yet to be spoken by either of us.

  Ellie shook her head as if to rid herself of her troubles. “Now, tell me, rumor has it you’re seeing a Devlin.” Ellie’s expression appeared curious rather than judgmental.

  I nodded.

  “My Al was a trouble-maker in his younger days too. Sometimes a woman wants a little trouble in her life, doesn’t she Sophie?”

  I laughed, although I’d had enough trouble in my life to last a lifetime between my family being criminals and my involvement in a murder a few months back. But I wasn’t going to whine to Ellie about my woes when hers were much bigger than mine.

  Chapter Seven

  My visit to the grocery store was uneventful. With my coupons, I saved a whopping fourteen percent. It wasn’t my best shop. I once saved twenty percent, but every little bit helped.

  Marla and Vivie were the queens of couponing. Vivie liked to brag that she got her groceries for free, although I wasn’t sure I believed her. Marla had several receipts that showed free groceries, but she said that most grocery stores changed their policies, making it harder to do. Despite that, she often saved fifty percent or more.

  However, I couldn’t complain about my measly fourteen percent, especially considering Marla and Vivie’s current predicaments. I was alive and free, they weren’t.

  I returned home and put my groceries away, then watched an entertainment news show with Aunt Rose before heading out to the Booty Burgo to start my shift. The Booty Burgo was nestled at the crest of the Blue Ridge, giving it great views of the Piedmont from the parking lot, and across the street was mostly wooded with a small lookout toward the Shenandoah side. From spring until fall, tourists enjoying the outdoors would pack the restaurant at lunch and sometimes dinner. But the nights, and off season, were usually for Jefferson Grove and other Blue Ridge town locals that wanted to get away. For some reason, there was an idea that what happened at the Booty Burgo would never filter down to town. I wasn’t sure why they thought that. Small southern towns thrived on gossip. If we could turn it to fuel, we could power the state on it.

  The restaurant was pirate themed and gaudy, but the regular crowds didn’t seem to mind as long as the booze kept flowing. I suppose tourists were too hungry or thirsty after a long hike to care about the tackiness of the restaurant.

  I entered through the front door and made my way past the bar with a wave to Spike. He taught me everything I knew about bartending. He was
also the manager most evenings, which was good for me because he and I got along really well, despite the fact that with his bald head, horseshoe mustache, and hooped earring, he really did look like a scary pirate.

  I headed toward the back office off the kitchen to clock in. I opened the door and was surprised to see Randy intently studying his computer screen. In high school, Randy was the epitome of handsome, cocky, jock, with blond hair, blue eyes, strong body, and a smile that made teenage hearts swoon. Today, he was rounder, especially around the middle, giving him the appearance of a pretty-faced dough boy.

  He glanced up briefly and then returned his attention to the computer. “Hey Sophie.”

  “Hey. What are you doing here?”

  “Working, what does it look like?”

  I pulled my timecard. “Is Vivie out of jail?” I couldn’t figure out why he’d be working with his wife being held on suspicion of murder.

  He shook his head but kept his focus on the computer. “No.”

  “Shouldn’t you bail her out, or something?” I knew he and Vivie didn’t have a good marriage, but he didn’t strike me as the type of guy that would leave his wife in jail.

  “She hasn’t been charged and even if she is, there’s no way I or her family could come up with bail on a murder charge.”

  “Wouldn’t Denny Coker help?” Denny was the bail bondsman in Jefferson Grove. I once applied to work for him, but left before the interview when his wife accused me of being a temptress and a crook.

  “The best I can do is try to find a good lawyer.”

  I wasn’t sure that was true. Lawyers were expensive. All the money that the government didn’t take when my father and brother went to prison went to lawyers. But I wasn’t going to discuss money with Randy since I knew part of the reason Vivie’s family wasn’t as wealthy anymore was because of investments they had made with my dad.

  “Maybe it won’t matter. I can’t believe she killed Marla.” I noted the time on my card and put it back in my slot.

  Randy shrugged. I couldn’t decide if that meant he agreed or not. Perhaps he’d seen a side of Vivie that suggested she was capable of murder. Cheating on his wife with her sister might induce her kill.