Murder Past Due

by Miranda James

  “Shows how much you know, you ignorant bitch,” Willie said, not in the least cowed by Andrea’s response. “I have proof that I wrote the books. Godfrey always said you knew, but I guess he didn’t trust you enough to tell you the truth.”

  “What kind of proof?” Andrea sounded a little less certain now. “You’re damn well going to have to prove it.”

  “Well, for one thing,” Willie said in a smug tone, “I can give you a copy of the manuscript for the book that’s coming out next September. How do you think I’d have a copy of it if I didn’t write it?”

  “Godfrey could have asked you to read it for some reason,” Andrea said. “It’s set here in Mississippi again, and he could have asked you to do some fact-checking for him.”

  During this exchange I had been trying to get Kanesha’s attention, but she steadfastly ignored me. She was intent on the argument between Willie and Andrea.

  Willie laughed. “You can argue all you like, woman. It’s not going to change anything. I wrote those books, and I have proof. I have a contract with Godfrey.”

  “You can produce this contract?” Miles Burton frowned. “This is a serious allegation, you understand. I’m not certain what the ramifications will be, because Godfrey assigned his copyrights to his son.”

  Willie howled in rage and made a move toward the lawyer. Kanesha, who was still standing between Willie and Burton, held a hand up in front of Willie’s face. “Calm down. Now. Or I will have you taken out of here. You understand?”

  Faced with Kanesha’s commanding tone and stance, Willie backed down. He resumed his seat, and I could feel the tension in the room drop a little.

  “I can and will produce the contract,” Willie said. “We will discuss it later, you can be damn sure.”

  Kanesha stepped to one side of the lawyer, but her gaze remained fixed on Willie.

  For a moment there was silence, and in that brief interval I heard a car pull up in front of my house. I got up and went to the window. The curtains were open, but I had to pull aside the sheers in order to see clearly.

  There were two sheriff’s department cars in front of my house. I glanced toward Kanesha, and she was watching me. She inclined her head a fraction, and I went back to my chair, thinking hard. She was going to arrest someone in my house. My heart started beating faster. I wasn’t sure I liked the idea.

  Burton resumed announcing the contents of Godfrey’s will. “There is a bequest of five million dollars to Athena College, and of that amount two hundred and fifty-thousand dollars is to be used for the processing and preservation of the papers he is donating to the school.” Burton glanced at me.

  “I’m sure our president and trustees will be delighted,” I said. Godfrey had obviously made his plans for the archive before he ever consulted me. He came to me simply to talk about Justin, and I could understand that.

  “There are bequests to a few charities,” Burton said. “And that is it.”

  “How soon will my son actually be able to receive his bequest?” Julia leaned forward on the sofa, watching Burton like a proverbial hawk.

  “The will must go through probate, naturally. There is also the investigation into Godfrey’s death,” Burton said. “Until that is concluded, nothing much can happen. And now there is an additional issue to consider, the true authorship of the novels that bear my client’s name. I really cannot say how that will affect the disposition of Godfrey’s estate.”

  “What does the investigation have to do with it?” Rick Tackett asked. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “In Mississippi,” Kanesha said, “murderers are not allowed to profit from their crimes. If one of the beneficiaries in the will is found guilty of Mr. Priest’s murder, he or she will not inherit.”

  “Is this true?” Julia looked right at Miles Burton.

  “I’m sure Deputy Berry knows this particular statute better than I,” Burton said. “Since the crime occurred here, that law would obviously be in effect.”

  Julia now directed her gaze at Willie Clark. I had been watching her in fascination, seeing a side of her that I hadn’t expected to see. She was far more avaricious than I would have guessed, judging by her behavior these last few minutes.

  Julia pointed across the coffee table to Willie. “I think you have a pretty darn good motive. Plus, I know you were in the hotel that afternoon.”

  “Me? You’re nuts, Julia.” Willie’s voice came out in a squeak.

  “I saw you,” Julia said. “In the revolving door as I was leaving.” She sat back and crossed her arms across her chest. Her smile was grim.

  Willie laughed, startling us all. “Yes, I was there. I went to see Godfrey to talk about the new book. Not the one that’s coming out next year, the one after that.”

  “And you got into a fight and bashed him over the head.” Julia nodded. “I can see it now.”

  I looked to Kanesha to intervene, but she didn’t. She simply stood there and watched.

  “Well, I saw you too, Julia.” Willie did not appear in the least perturbed by Julia’s accusation. “But you’ve got it backward. I was in the revolving door with you, but I was the one leaving, not you. I saw Godfrey around two-thirty, after waiting for him almost twenty minutes. He was upset about something when I finally did get in to see him, and he said we’d have to talk later. By then I couldn’t really hang around any longer either. I was due back on the reference desk at three. One of my staff called in sick that morning, and I had to take his stint at the desk.”

  “The reference desk?” Julia had paled.

  “Yep,” Willie said. “At three, and in full view of plenty of people for two hours, because I manned the desk until five. Then I had a meeting with the chair of the history department, and I was with him until nearly six.”

  It appeared that Willie had a pretty good alibi for Godfrey’s murder. Based on what Julia had told me, it was nearly three when she left Godfrey. That statement lent credence to Willie’s assertion.

  But if she had lied about when she saw Willie, had she lied about anything else?

  Kanesha broke the tense silence that had fallen. “I have to ask you, Mrs. Wardlaw, if you would like to revise what you told me earlier. Is Mr. Clark correct? Did you see him as you were entering the hotel?”

  “Perhaps I got it wrong, and I did see Willie as I was entering,” Julia said. “But he could have come back later and killed Godfrey.”

  “I most certainly did not,” Willie said. “After I finished the meeting with the head of the history department, I walked over to the patisserie for something to eat, and then I went to the bookstore for a poetry reading. I didn’t have time to go to the hotel and kill anybody.”

  All eyes appeared to be on Julia now. Except for Justin’s. He had his head against Diesel, hugging the cat closely to him.

  “Mrs. Wardlaw, refresh my memory. What was it you did after you left the hotel and your interview with Mr. Priest?” Kanesha took a step closer to the sofa.

  Julia watched Kanesha, the unease evident in her face. “I went to the bank to deposit a check Godfrey had given me. Then I went to the hospital. I got there in time for the shift change, a little after three.”

  “Were you given a receipt for your deposit, Mrs. Wardlaw?”

  What was going on here? From Kanesha’s demeanor I began to wonder if she had decided Julia was the murderer. My stomach began to knot up in distress.

  “Yes, I suppose so,” Julia said, shrugging. “Don’t they always give you one?”

  “They’re supposed to,” Kanesha said. “And generally those receipts record the time of the deposit. Were you aware of that, Mrs. Wardlaw?”

  The relentless use of Mrs. Wardlaw was like a nail being slowly hammered into a coffin.

  Julia stared at the deputy but didn’t respond. It was clear that she had never given a second thought to the time stamp on her bank receipt.

  “I believe also that the bank is open until six P.M. during the week,” Kanesha said. “I can of course ch
eck with the bank, and I will, to determine at what time you made your deposit, Mrs. Wardlaw. I have already spoken with hospital personnel in order to verify your whereabouts.”

  Kanesha paused, but there was only the sound of hard breathing. Julia was afraid, and the fear was almost palpable in the room.

  “Do you have anything you wish to say about the time you made your bank deposit, Mrs. Wardlaw? It’s only a matter of time before I know the truth.”

  Julia took a deep breath. “It was a few minutes before six.”

  Justin raised his head and looked at his mother. “Mama, what’s going on? Why did you lie about the stupid bank deposit?”

  “I guess I was just mixed up,” Julia said, but even Justin didn’t believe her. The pain in his eyes as he looked at his mother was heartrending.

  “Mr. Priest wanted to take Justin back to California, didn’t he? You were afraid you might lose your son, weren’t you? And you weren’t going to let that happen.”

  “No, that’s not right. Godfrey wasn’t going to do that. I talked to him and he promised he wouldn’t, at least not until Justin finished college.” Julia sounded desperate, but at this point I didn’t think anyone believed her.

  “Can I ask a question?” Rick Tackett spoke, his voice low and hesitant.

  “Yes, Mr. Tackett, what is it?” Kanesha appeared surprised at the interruption, but she nodded encouragement when Rick failed to speak right away.

  “Justin, when is your birthday?” Rick watched Justin, his hands on his knees. I saw that his knuckles were white.

  “August fourth,” Justin said after clearing his throat. Then he added the year.

  “Thank you,” Rick said. “He wasn’t premature, was he, Julia?”

  Tears welled in Julia’s eyes. “No, he wasn’t.” We could barely hear her.

  Rick nodded. He took a deep breath as he looked straight at Justin.

  “He’s not Godfrey’s son,” he said. “He’s mine.”

  THIRTY-THREE

  I wasn’t the only one in the room who was stunned. I sneaked a quick look at Kanesha’s face, and I could have laughed at her expression. The English have a term for it: gobsmacked. Translated roughly, it means utterly astounded.

  That’s exactly how Kanesha looked.

  Rick spoke again. “Son, I’m truly sorry you had to find out this way.”

  “Mama, is it true?” Justin put a trembling hand on Julia’s arm.

  Julia didn’t answer.

  “It has to be,” Rick said, his voice steady. “I suspected it for a long time, and I just let it go, I guess. Julia had dumped me for Godfrey. And then she went and married Ezra. She made it clear she didn’t want me, even though I’d asked her to marry me.” He paused. “I didn’t realize until today that she was claiming Godfrey was the boy’s father. I couldn’t let the lie go on any further.”

  “How can you be sure?” Kanesha asked.

  Rick shrugged. “The last time I saw Julia back then”—and we all understood that saw was a euphemism—“was in early December. Godfrey didn’t blow into town until mid-January.”

  We could all do the math. If Rick was right, Godfrey couldn’t have been Justin’s father.

  “Did Mr. Priest know about your relationship with Mr. Tackett?” Kanesha went back on the attack.

  “No,” Julia said. “He was only here for about two weeks that time, and I made sure he didn’t hear about it. He never knew.”

  I had to speak up, though it hurt me to do so. “He found out about it on Tuesday,” I said. “I told him. It just came up in the conversation. My family and I were here for Christmas that year, and we saw Julia and Rick together. I told Godfrey that, and he seemed surprised by it.”

  “She told Godfrey the boy was a preemie.” Andrea Ferris got off the sofa and came to stand near me. “When Godfrey first told me about it, he said he was thankful the boy hadn’t had any significant health problems despite being two months premature.”

  “Mr. Priest confronted you that afternoon, Mrs. Wardlaw. He had figured out that he might not be Justin’s father. I imagine he was very angry with you.” Kanesha glared at Julia.

  Julia was sobbing now. All she could do was nod.

  Rick got up from his chair and extended a hand across the coffee table to Justin. “Son, I think you should come with me.” He glanced at Kanesha, and she nodded.

  Justin, obviously torn, still clutching Diesel, looked first at Rick and then at his mother. Julia said, “Go. Please.” She wouldn’t look at her son.

  Justin hesitated, then kissed her cheek. He gently pushed Diesel aside and got up from the couch. He moved from behind the coffee table, and Rick put an arm around the boy’s shoulders. We all watched as he led Justin from the room. Diesel came to sit by my chair.

  “Mr. Harris, would you go to the door and wave at the cars parked outside? They’ll know what it means.” Kanesha moved closer to Julia, and I got up from my chair to do what the deputy asked.

  As I headed for the front door, Andrea, Willie, and Miles Burton all moved to the other side of the room.

  I opened the door and waved. A moment later three deputies stepped out of the cars and headed up the walk. I moved aside to let them in. I kept an eye out for Diesel in case he decided to wander outside.

  I saw him scampering up the stairs when I closed the door behind the deputies. I was tempted to follow him, because I didn’t think I could bear to see Julia being arrested. I was appalled by what she had done, but I also hated the thought of her being so alone now.

  I went back into the living room and sat down on the couch with her. Kanesha had begun the process of arresting her for murder.

  On Monday morning when I was about to leave for the college library, Justin walked into the kitchen. With Julia in custody, he had gone home to Ezra Saturday afternoon. I went with him, to try to explain to a very bewildered man what had happened.

  Ezra’s illness was taking its toll and Justin stayed with him until the evening, when Rick Tackett arrived. The boy was too dazed to make any decisions for himself, and I encouraged him to go with Rick. He was going to need a father, and Rick had the quiet strength, I thought, to help his son.

  All Julia had wanted to do was help her son, too, but she had gone about it the wrong way. Godfrey had treated her badly, driving her to choose Ezra instead of going back to Rick. I had no doubt now she bitterly regretted that choice. She seemed determined, however, to make Godfrey pay for what he had done, and even though Godfrey realized Justin wasn’t his son, he must have felt guilty enough to give her money anyway. He probably thought he could simply buy her off, but by then Julia was, I suspected, so irrational that she simply acted without any consideration for the consequences. Otherwise she wouldn’t have forgotten Justin’s cell phone or have let something so simple as the time stamp on her deposit receipt trip her up.

  The tragedy of it all was stunning, and I felt such pity for Julia. I could do something for her, though, by continuing to look after her son however I could.

  “How are you?” I examined Justin with concern. He looked like he had slept very little the past two nights.

  Justin shrugged. “I don’t really know. It’s all too freaky.”

  Diesel rubbed against his legs, and Justin squatted down to hug the cat.

  “Yes, it is,” I said. “I want you to know, though, if I can do anything to help you, I will.”

  “Thank you,” Justin said, looking up at me. Besides the fatigue, I thought I could see the beginnings of a new maturity in his face. He stood.

  “Actually, there is one thing you can do for me, if you will.” Justin watched me calmly. “I’d like to stay here with you for now.”

  “Of course you can,” I said. I had to speak around a lump in my throat. “Diesel would miss you terribly, you know.”

  Justin gave me the ghost of a smile. “I’d miss him, too. Rick wants me to move in with him and my brothers and sisters.” He shook his head. “That sounds so weird. I have brothers and sist
ers now. Half, that is, but still.”

  “I’m glad. It’s good to have family.” I paused. “But it can be a bit confusing to try to get to know them all at once. Maybe you need a little time to get used to the idea.”

  “Yes, sir,” Justin said. “Thank you, Mr. Charlie, and you too, Diesel.”

  He stood there for a moment, and my heart ached for him. But Diesel and I would do our best to help him.

  “I think I’ll go up to my room and take a nap,” Justin said.

  “Sounds like a good idea.” I smiled at him. “And I’ll bet you can talk Diesel into coming with you.”

  “Come on, boy,” Justin said, waggling his fingers at the cat. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  I sat down at the table, forgetting about work for the moment, as boy and cat left the kitchen. I heard Justin clumping up the stairs, and I realized what a reassuring sound that was.

  In the years since my wife died, I had done my best to isolate myself from all but the necessary daily contacts with other people. With my son and daughter off living their own lives, I had only Diesel for any kind of emotional companionship.

  That had been enough for a while. But the shock of the events of the past week had broken through that shell I had almost unknowingly put up around me.

  For a moment I fancied I could see both Jackie and Aunt Dottie sitting at the table with me. “It’s time,” Jackie would say, and Aunt Dottie would nod in agreement.

  I smiled as the images I conjured up faded away, leaving only the glow of happy memories.

  Yes, it was time.

  I gathered my things and headed for work.