by Joni Folger
Toby stabbed a finger in Jim’s direction. “Exactly. He said she’d cleaned out his bank accounts as well. I was starting to see a disturbing pattern in my mom’s behavior, which is why I agreed to continue the conversation out at Sam’s RV before going back to the motel to get ready for dinner. I wanted to hear more.”
“What else did he have to say when you got to the park?” Jackson asked.
“He told me that he’d never forgotten about me and had looked for us for years, hiring private investigators and the like whenever he had the money. He’d received information about our Georgia location at one point, but by the time he got there, we’d already left. Mom must have been tipped off that he was coming.”
Toby got up and re-filled his cup from the water dispenser for a third time before continuing. “Anyway, he said that there’d been other close calls, but they were always near misses. He’d show up, but we’d be gone.” He sat back down at the table and took a sip of the water. “Anyway, this last time he’d finally tracked us down to the vineyard and found out we were heading up to the festival, so he followed us here.”
“That clarifies how he got to Delphine, but it still doesn’t explain why you’re so sure he killed your mom,” Jim said. “I mean, sure, that kind of history and revenge for what she’d done might’ve given him a reason to want her dead, but it also gives you motive. To find out my mother had lied to me for years, used other people that way? I gotta say that would make me really angry.”
Toby’s gaze sharpened, and he nodded. “Yes, and I was. I’d just confronted Mom about Grace, and she’d refused to talk about it, told me I’d misunderstood. Then I tracked Grace down and actually talked to her. And on the heels of that conversation, my long, lost father shows up and contradicts everything my mother had ever told me. You bet I was pissed. But she was still my mother, Deputy.”
“Toby, did you tell your mom about Sam showing up when you argued with her Friday night?” Jackson asked. “And that you’d just talked with him?”
Toby blew out a breath, and his shoulders slumped as if weighed down by guilt. “No. We argued about Grace. I told her all the terrible things Grace had laid on me a few hours before, but I didn’t tell her about my father.”
He lifted his palms in a plea for understanding. “I will go to my grave regretting I didn’t at least give her a heads-up that Sam was nearby. But I was still processing everything that had happened in that one crazy afternoon. Grace, my father … I was so overwhelmed.”
Dropping his hands, his eyes filled with tears as he bowed his head and whispered. “Had I told her, it might’ve made the difference.”
“Toby, I can see why you think he may have killed your mom, but why would he want to kill Grace?” Jackson asked, sliding a box of tissue across the table toward the man. “He’d never even met her, had he?”
Toby took a tissue and blew his nose, struggling to get himself under control. “No,” he said after a moment. “But I may have been to blame for that, too.”
“How so?” Jim asked with a frown. “Did you introduce them or something?”
Toby shook his head. “Not exactly. Grace came to see me Saturday. Evidently, when I saw her leave my mom’s room on Friday night and drive away, she hadn’t gone far. She said she’d been angry but decided to come back and finish their conversation, clear the air. She pulled into the parking lot just in time to see me go into Mom’s room.”
“What does that have to do with Grace’s murder?” Jim asked.
“She thought I’d killed her. When she came to see me Saturday, she begged me to turn myself in. Said that I’d been pushed past my limits by Mom’s past behavior, and the authorities would take that into consideration. She said she’d be a character witness and help in any way she could.” He paused and wiped his eyes. “I kept telling her that I didn’t kill my mother, but she wouldn’t let it go.”
“Okay, but how does that make you to blame for her death?” Jackson persisted. “And how is your father involved?”
“Because I told him about the conversation on Sunday morning over breakfast. I made light of the whole thing, but I’m afraid he may have tried to intervene. He told me not to worry about it—that he would take care of things.”
“You realize how this whole thing sounds, right?” Jim commented. “You’ve told us that you were in your mother’s room right before her death, and we have no proof that your dad is even here in Delphine. Until we can confirm that he is, and has been since the murders, we only have your word that any of this actually happened. And other than a gut feeling, you have no actual evidence that proves your dad was involved with either murder.”
Toby fidgeted in his seat, his eyes darting back and forth. “I know, I know, but what I’ve told you is the truth. Go out to the RV park. They’ll have records of him staying there. You’ll see. And as for proof, no, I don’t have any, but I know as sure as I’m sitting here that he’s responsible.”
Jackson ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “All right, hang tight for a few minutes, Toby. Jim and I are gonna step out and make some calls.”
“Interview with Toby Raymond suspended,” Jim said into the recorder. He added the time and put it on pause before he and Jackson got up and stepped out into the hall.
“So? What do you think of that rambling mess?” Jim asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m having a hard time keeping track of all the craziness.”
Jackson smiled and nodded. “I know what you mean, but even though he can’t prove any of it, I’m leaning toward believing him. Although I see where he might have it in him to poison his mother, I just don’t picture him strangling Grace—not after just reuniting with her that way.”
Jim shook his head in a disgusted manner. “Though it pains me some to say it, I have to agree. I don’t like him for either murder. So, where do we go from here? You want to hang onto him until we check out the RV park and can confirm his dad is here?”
Jackson pressed his lips together and crossed his arms over his chest. “I think we’d better, just in case,” he said after a moment.
“Then let’s get this party started.”
They stepped back into the room, and just as they sat down to tell Toby what they’d decided, Jackson’s cell phone rang. Pulling it out and checking the readout, he was baffled when he saw C.C.’s name on the screen.
“Hang on a second,” Jackson told Jim. “I’ve got to take this. I’ll be right back.”
He got up and walked back out into the hallway, answering the call as he went out the door. “Hey, C.C., what’s up? I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
“Yeah? Well, you better get out of whatever you’re doing and hightail it out to the Lost Pines Fairgrounds. And I mean, right this minute.”
Jackson frowned. C.C. rarely called him and when she did she never sounded this upset. “What’s going on? And what are you doing out at the fairgrounds?”
“I think El and Maddy are in trouble, Jax. Please. You need to come now!”
Jackson could hear the near-hysteria in her voice and felt his own concern rise. “Trouble? What kind of trouble? Tell me what’s happened?”
“Okay, but don’t blow a gasket. Promise?”
“C.C.,” he said in a warning tone. “Tell me.”
There was a long pause, and Jackson wanted to reach through the phone and shake the woman. Just when he thought he’d lost the connection, she finally spoke up.
“Something had been bothering El about these murders since finding that note on her car the other night, and—”
“Wait, what note?” he asked, interrupting her. “Start from the beginning, and don’t leave anything out.”
Less than ten minutes later, Jackson had most of the story, and after disconnecting, he raced back into the interview room to get Jim. If C.C. was right, Elise and Madison could be in real peril, maybe
even running out of time.
And Toby had been telling the truth.
“What’s up, Jax?” Jim asked, his voice holding a hint of concern. “You look like you’ve had a scare.”
“I have. Seems like Toby here may have been right.” He turned to Toby. “Elise and Maddy went out to the motel over the lunch hour. It was El’s intention to get Harriet Wilson to let them into your mother’s room.”
“What?” Toby looked horrified. “Why on earth would she want to do that?”
“Who knows why that woman does anything?” Jackson ran a hand over his face in exasperation. “Anyway, C.C. was supposed to meet up with them there but was running late. She arrived just in time to watch Maddy’s car turn out of the parking lot and head toward the fairgrounds.” He gave Jim a grim look. “And from what she said, they weren’t alone. Elise and Maddy were up front, and a man she didn’t recognize was in the back seat on the driver’s side.”
“Oh my God! My dad?”
“I don’t know, Toby.” Jackson shook his head and dug his car keys out of his pocket. “C.C. followed them at a discreet distance out to the fairgrounds and thinks they may be in trouble. I’m not gonna wait around here to find out.”
“I’m right behind you, buddy,” Jim said jumping to his feet. “We can be out there in fifteen minutes—less if we push it.”
“I’m going with you, too,” Toby spoke up, shoving away from the table. “If my dad has taken them out to some secluded spot against their will … well, I don’t want any more death on my conscience. I haven’t known him long, but maybe I can talk to him, get him to give himself up without more violence.”
It didn’t take Jackson but five seconds to come to a decision. “Okay, but you do what I say, when I say. And no heroics.”
Toby snorted. “Please. No chance of that. Trust me.”
With a confirming nod, Jackson headed for the door. “Then let’s do this.”
twenty-four
Elise glanced over at her sister as Sam instructed her to pull the car into the back parking lot of the Lost Pines Fairgrounds. They would need to do some fast talking and come up with some sort of a plan—quickly. Because once they got to wherever Sam was taking them, she was pretty sure their time would be up. She had no illusions that he would simply let them go after taking them hostage at gunpoint.
He hadn’t said a word since they’d left the motel, and his silence was unnerving. Of course, there was also the fact that he had his gun trained on the back of Madison’s head.
“So, Sam, what’s this all about?” she asked tightly, in a desperate effort to get him talking.
“Come on, Elise. You’re a smart girl. Don’t tell me you haven’t figured this whole thing out by now. I could see the wheels turning in your head back at the motel.”
Sam chuckled, and the sound of it sent a healthy dollop of fear trickling down Elise’s spine. She took a deep breath and threw a glance over her shoulder at him. “You were the one who left the threatening note on my windshield, right?”
“Bingo,” he acknowledged with a grin.
“Threatening note?” Madison’s head snapped in Elise’s direction as she slipped the car into a spot and put it in park. “What note? What are you talking about?”
“Sorry. You went to dinner with friends in town last night, so I forgot to tell you. I went to the H-E-B to pick up a few things for Gram before we ate.” Elise jerked a thumb toward the back seat. “When I came out, Sam here had left a menacing note on my windshield.”
Madison’s mouth dropped open. “And you didn’t think that was important enough to tell me before you dragged me into your idiotic snooping trip? You didn’t think that little tidbit would be good for me to know?”
Elise rolled her eyes at her sister’s complaint. “Don’t be so dramatic, Maddy. I said I was sorry, didn’t I? Besides, how was I supposed to know?”
Madison made a growling noise in the back of her throat. “A lot of good sorry does now.”
“Go ahead and shut down the engine, Madison. Then hand me the keys, please. We don’t want anyone gettin’ any crazy ideas,” Sam said, tapping her on the shoulder with the barrel of the gun.
“I knew you were digging,” he continued, directing his comments to Elise. “Y’all were real subtle about it, but I knew. Toby told me you’d stopped by after I’d left yesterday, told me all about the conversation, though he didn’t see it as the fishing expedition that it was.” He shrugged. “Not the brightest kid, but he’s still my son.”
Elise turned in her seat to face him and then put up her hands in surrender when he pushed the gun against the back of Madison’s head in response.
“Look, I get it, Sam. He’s your son,” Elise said. “I was starting to look in his direction, so you had to do something. You were just trying to protect him.”
“Yeah, but it didn’t seem to discourage you, did it?”
She gave him a sad look. “Actually, it only made me more curious. The note said I was poking around where I shouldn’t. Since the only thing I’d done was stop by the motel and chat with Toby, I figured it had to have something to do with that … or perhaps something I’d seen while I was there.”
Sam slowly shook his head. “Too smart for your own good, little girl.”
“But I was looking at the wrong Raymond, wasn’t I?” she asked, tilting her head and giving him a narrow-eyed glance. “Though I didn’t know you were here at the time.”
“El!” Madison blurted. “For God’s sake, don’t get us into any more trouble than we already are.”
“What did you find in the room, Elise?” Sam asked, ignoring Madison’s outburst.
She shrugged. “Nothing much. Just a button.”
“A button?” Sam frowned, clearly stumped by her answer.
“That’s all.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. What the hell does that have to do with anything?” His eyebrows descended, and he scowled at her in his confusion. “What kind of button? And why would that be something you’d want to tell the police about?”
“It was a button that told a very specific story, Sam,” she told him. “You see, when Toby showed up to dinner on Friday night, he was missing a button on his jacket—a button the CSI folks missed but I found in the room this afternoon.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded when she saw understanding dawn in his eyes. “Since he wasn’t wearing the jacket earlier at the festival, you can see where my thought process took me.”
“Finding the button there meant he’d been in his momma’s room,” Sam replied. “And it had to have been sometime between leaving the festival for the day and arriving at the restaurant.”
“Yes. Toby showed up right before Jackson got the call about Divia’s death.”
“Clever. And I can see how you would come to the conclusion that Toby had killed her.”
Though there was a note of respect in Sam’s voice, something in his eyes gave Elise the impression she’d missed something.
“Unfortunately, Divia raised our boy to be a spineless wimp. I’m afraid he ain’t got killin’ in him.”
At his words, the breath backed up in Elise’s lungs and her pulse picked up speed. She realized then that she’d gotten the whole thing wrong. Toby hadn’t killed his mother.
Sam Raymond had.
Her realization must have been plain to see on her face, because he smiled and nodded. “Yep. I can see you understand now.”
“Understand what?” Madison asked and tried to turn around, but Sam shoved the gun against the back of her head again.
“That Toby didn’t kill Divia, Maddy,” Elise answered, her eyes never leaving his. “Sam did. But why? Was it because she’d run away from you?”
“Why?” When he repeated the question, his eyebrows rose and his tone was full of surprise. After a moment, he launched into an explanation.
“Toby’s momma was a beautiful young woman when we hooked up. But you know what they say about beauty only being skin deep? Well, with Divia that was an understatement. Nothin’ I ever did was good enough for Divia Sweeney. And I mean nothin’.”
He shook his head and his eyes took on a faraway look, a half-smile touching his face. “I was over the moon when we had Toby … a son. But that soon turned to shit, too. Whenever she didn’t get her way or I refused to buy her the latest thing she had her eye on, she’d use my boy as a bargaining chip.”
He turned to Elise with pure hatred flaring in his eyes, in his voice. “A week or so after Toby’s fourth birthday she packed him up and disappeared in the middle of the night—taking everything we had with her. At least, everything that meant something to me.”
“Ah, Sam. I’m so sorry, but you know you weren’t the only one, right?” Elise asked. Evidently, he was the first man Divia had run out on, but he hadn’t been the last. And her M.O. hadn’t changed over the years.
“Oh, I know. But I’ve spent twenty years trying to track down my son. Every time I’d get close, she’d grab him up and disappear like smoke on a burn pile. Until last week, that is. I finally caught up to her and saw my son for the first time in two decades.”
“So you decided to make sure she’d never run again?” Madison asked, obviously unable to help herself. Elise watched her glance into the rearview mirror. “Or was it revenge?”
“It was justice,” Sam said with conviction. “That woman left a trail of broken lives wherever she landed. I just evened the score for everyone she’d hurt.”
“So, you went to her room after Toby left?” Elise asked, wanting to keep him talking. The longer they could distract him, the longer they would live … and perhaps give help time to arrive.
She’d recognized C.C.’s car pulling into the motel parking lot as they were pulling out. Elise could only hope that her friend had contacted Jackson, and the troops were on their way.