But Not Forlorn: A Clint Wolf Novel (Clint Wolf Mystery Series Book 7)

by BJ Bourg

  “The tapes, please?”

  “Alright, party pooper, follow me.”

  Susan and I followed Cassandra through a section of hinged countertop, up a flight of stairs, and into a square office that overlooked the store aisles below. Cassandra sat at her desk and she sucked in air through her teeth while she started accessing the surveillance footage. It made a whistling noise that was annoying. I wanted to say something, but resisted the urge.

  She stopped whistling to ask what time we needed her to look up.

  “Between four and five in the afternoon.”

  Cassandra went back to whistling through her teeth while she maneuvered the mouse around and pulled up footage that showed the front entrance. She then split the screen and added a camera that depicted the front parking lot. She started at three-fifty-five and hit the play button first, then set it to double speed.

  As we watched, people went in and out, all of them empty-handed on the way in and carrying various amounts of groceries on the way out. When the time stamp read four-oh-eight, I saw Pauline sauntering into the store, her phone in one hand and her purse slung across the opposite shoulder. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want Cassandra to know we were looking at Pauline, but she took notice.

  “Hey, it’s Mayor Cain.” She suddenly sucked in a mouthful of air. “Oh, wait! Is this about Lance Beaman’s murder? One of our customers came in this morning and said Lance was murdered and they said how Pauline was a shoe-in for mayor now that he was dead.”

  I waved her off, but I was sure my expression was more than a little revealing. “Just keep it going, please. I didn’t see what I’m looking for yet.”

  Just as Mayor Cain had stated, she was only in there for about thirty minutes. She left at four-forty-two carrying two bags, and I could see what looked like the top of a bottle of wine sticking out of one of the bags. I shot a subtle glance at Susan and gave a short nod. Since we were able to corroborate that part of her story, I was comfortable she was being honest about the rest of it. I figured we could ask Cassandra to pull the logs from the register so we could verify the items purchased, but I was certain we had enough. I didn’t want to be the cause of more gossip being spread around town.

  In order to make Cassandra believe we were looking for something else, I didn’t say a word and just let her continue to play the tapes. As the footage rolled, I glanced at the screen on the right and watched as Mayor Cain got into her car. She sat in it for a little over five minutes and I figured she was talking on the phone or texting someone. Good on her for staying safe, I thought.

  I glanced back at the screen on the left and people were still filing in and out of the store. It was growing a little busier than when the tape first began. I was about to tell Cassandra to pause it when I noticed movement in the screen from the right. It was Mayor Cain driving through the parking lot, headed for Main Street. I stopped and stared when she reached the street. Her right blinker was on. I scowled. She had to turn left to go to her house. As I continued watching, she made a right turn and headed toward the south.

  I held my breath, waited for her to turn her car around and head back home. She didn’t. Fifteen more minutes of film sped by and I never saw her car again.

  Damn! She lied to us!

  CHAPTER 13

  “Lying doesn’t make her a killer,” I said about Pauline as Susan was driving us to the hospital in Central Chateau. I stared down at the compact disc in my hands that contained the footage from Mechant Groceries. “And maybe she didn’t lie. She could’ve gone the long way home and still been back by five, five-thirty.”

  “Clint, that’s nonsense and you know it. I understand you feel obligated to give her the benefit of the doubt because of what she did for me, but you’ve got to stop making excuses for her. She lied to us and we have to find out why.” She turned to look at me. “And you’re right, just because she lied doesn’t mean she killed Lance, but we still need to find out why she lied.”

  “We don’t know for sure that she lied.” My mind raced faster than Susan was driving—she was speeding to get to the hospital so we could interview Lance Beaman’s wife—as I tried to figure out an explanation for what was in the video. I needed to find another way to determine if Pauline had gone home after leaving the grocery store, some way to verify her story. We had just crossed the Mechant Loup Bridge when it came to me. “M & P Grill is located at the corner of Kate Drive and Main Street,” I said. “They have surveillance cameras outside the restaurant and, if I remember right, some are facing the highway.” I nodded for emphasis. “We’ll be able to see Pauline leaving her street and then returning.”

  “And when we prove she didn’t return when she says she did?” Susan asked pointedly. “What then?”

  I sighed. “Then we sit her back down and find out why.”

  We rode in silence most of the way to the hospital, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I had stopped worrying about Pauline for the moment and was wondering why Nicole Beaman had requested to speak with us. The office had received a call from someone at the hospital saying that Mrs. Beaman needed to speak with the detectives working her husband’s murder, and she needed to see them ASAP. She claimed she had information that was crucial to the case. I wanted to know what that information was and I wanted to know right away.

  Thanks to a school bus that had pulled out in front of us while we were traveling through the southern part of Chateau Parish, Susan had been forced to slow down considerably, and then had had to stop every few hundred yards as the bus unloaded. Neither of us liked passing up school buses, so we settled in for the long ride. Finally, the bus turned down a long street and she was able to speed up again. We made it to the hospital a little after three o’clock.

  We found Mrs. Beaman in one of the rooms on the second floor and she seemed to be doing well physically, but she was an emotional wreck. I stood back and let Susan take the lead, since she had established something of a rapport with the woman while out at the scene of her husband’s murder.

  Susan pulled a stool up beside the hospital bed and held Mrs. Beaman’s hand and told her how sorry she was about what had happened. The elderly woman cried for a bit, but when she was ready to talk, she cleared her throat and squared her shoulders.

  “I know who did this to Lance.”

  When she paused, Susan nodded and said softly, “Go on…”

  “Lance and I tell each other everything, as most married couples do.” She paused for a moment to allow her chin to stop trembling, and I’m sure she was realizing that they would never tell each other anything ever again. “Well, early on in the campaign, he had hired this private investigator to follow Pauline Cain around to try and dig up some dirt on her. He knew she would be hard to beat, so he wanted to find out if she was as clean as she claimed to be. She wasn’t and he found out something that could end her career.” She took another quivering breath, as though questioning what she was about to do.

  I shifted my feet as I stood there waiting, not at all liking where this was going.

  When she spoke again, Mrs. Beaman’s voice was uncertain. “He made me swear to never utter a word of this, so I feel like I’m betraying his trust.”

  Yes, I wanted to say, so shut the hell up and stop spreading lies about a good woman.

  Instead, I just watched while Susan told her to go ahead and tell us everything she knew. “Considering what’s happened, I’m sure your husband would want you to share this information with us.”

  That seemed to give her courage and she continued. “This PI, he’s very good at his job. He followed Pauline Cain every day for about a month. He knew all of her patterns. He knew what time she got up in the morning, where she went after she left work, what she liked to eat on Tuesdays—”

  “So, basically,” I said, interrupting her, “he stalked her.”

  Susan shot me a hard look and I clamped my mouth shut, mumbled an apology.

  “I…I don’t feel comfortable telling you any of this in
front of him,” Mrs. Beaman suddenly said, pointing directly at me. “Lance told me the police department was in the tank for Pauline. He said he spoke to that man and he had taken sides.”

  Before Susan could say anything, I apologized again and stepped out of the room. Needing some fresh air, I took the elevator down and stepped out onto the sidewalk. I pulled out my phone and called Melvin. When he answered, his voice sounded strange.

  “Hey, man, are you okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I’m just a little tired.” He laughed, but I could tell it was forced. “Deli kept me up most of the day, but I’ll be fine. I’ve got until Wednesday to sleep.”

  He had just gotten off of a weekend rotation where he’d worked Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and he would now be off tonight and tomorrow night. After we talked a little about his daughter, I asked again what he thought about Zack Pitre. “I know you said he was acting strange. Was it strange enough to make you think he was guilty?”

  “I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t know if he’s smart enough to burn someone alive without setting himself on fire. It seems like he would bungle that kind of job.”

  “Justin did say it was an amateur job.” I scowled. “What about Pauline? Do you think she would have it in her to do this?”

  “No way,” he said with confidence. “I’ll say about Mayor Cain what Zack’s mom said about him; she wouldn’t hurt a gnat if it landed in her white beans—or something like that.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking, too.” I was about to end the call but it seemed like there was something on Melvin’s mind, because he just sat there breathing, not saying anything and not in a hurry to end the call. “Is everything okay, Melvin?”

  “I guess.”

  “Come on, you can talk to me.”

  “It’s just that Claire got mad at me for getting home late this morning. She said I made her late for work and that I didn’t respect her job, that I considered my job more important than hers.”

  “Oh, damn, Melvin, that’s my fault for asking you to go out and make contact with Zack. I’m really sorry. Would it help if I talked to her?”

  “Probably not.” He sighed. “I guess she’ll get over it. I just don’t like fighting with her.”

  “Why don’t you go buy her some flowers or something?” I suggested. “It works wonders. Get roses. Red ones. They’re like a magic potion that renders most women helpless. As soon as they see those thorny things that’ll die inside of a week, they melt and forget why they were mad at you in the first place. Weirdest thing I’ve ever heard seen.”

  “Thanks, Clint. I’ll do that.”

  “And have supper cooked when she gets home.”

  “Got it. Thanks!”

  I smiled as I ended the call, but my smile faded when I turned and saw Susan standing there glaring at me. “I know it’s not me you’re talking about, because you’ve never bought me red roses, Clint Wolf.”

  I felt as though I’d parachuted into a mine field and each word I spoke represented a footstep that could get me blown the hell up. “Melvin’s having problems with Claire. They’re fighting. I was just trying to help him out.”

  She was quiet for a moment and we each stood there staring down at the ground. I felt horrible, but I didn’t know what to say so I simply apologized. She waved me off, but I could still see the hurt in her eyes.

  “I know you had a life before me and I know you were married,” she explained, “and that was all before I even knew you. I’ve got no right to complain or be upset, and I can’t really explain what I’m feeling or why it bothers me.” She shrugged a shoulder. “I guess it just stings a little hearing you talk about your life with another woman.”

  I groaned inwardly, wanting to kick myself in the groin. I’d barely been married a week and I was already saying things to upset my new bride. “Sue, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”

  She nodded and walked toward her Tahoe. I followed and resisted the urge to ask her what Mrs. Beaman had said. I figured when she was ready to talk, she’d tell me all I needed to know.

  CHAPTER 14

  Susan drove the entire way to our house in silence. I didn’t know what to say or do, so I just stared out the window and watched the scenery fly by. When she shut off the engine, I quietly stepped out and rubbed Achilles’ head when he rushed to my side. Susan stayed sitting in her vehicle, so I walked inside and retrieved my keys from the hooks near the door. When I walked back out onto the patio, she was just getting out of the Tahoe. Without saying a word, she walked around the front of the cruiser and directly to me. Wrapping her arms around me, she just buried her face in my chest and held me for a long time. I squeezed her tightly and apologized again.

  “No,” she said softly, “I’m sorry for getting upset. I’m not the jealous type, so I don’t know why it bothered me to hear you talking about buying flowers for your first wife. I guess I just let the information from Mrs. Beaman get the best of me.”

  I pulled away and stared down at her. “What do you mean? What did she tell you?”

  Susan stared directly into my eyes. “She told me Pauline was having an affair.”

  “She’s a widow—she can do whatever the hell she wants.”

  Her eyes never leaving mine, she said, “According to Lance’s investigator, Pauline was having an affair with a married man.”

  “Who is this investigator?”

  “She didn’t know his name, only that he was from Mechant Loup and he caught Pauline red handed sleeping with a married man—someone from town.”

  I didn’t like the way Susan was staring at me, but I didn’t dare look away or allow my eyes to waver one bit.

  “Who?”

  “Lance wouldn’t name the person, but he said if Pauline didn’t drop out of the race he would expose her.” Susan sighed. “Look, I trust you and I’m a confident woman, but I’m not so arrogant to think it could never happen to me. It’s happened to better woman than me, so I’m not naive. I’m a realist and I understand I can only control one person—and that’s me.”

  “What are you talking about? What could never happen to you?”

  She lowered her head, stared at the ground. “I don’t want to say it out loud.”

  I put my hand under Susan’s chin and gently tilted her head upward. “Don’t you ever doubt me, and don’t you ever forget that I’m a Wolf…and wolves mate for life.”

  Her face twisted into a half-frown, half-smile. “I feel embarrassed, but it’s just that you’ve been defending Pauline a lot, even though it’s obvious she’s up to something. And when I heard you talking about flowers, I started wondering exactly who you’d bought them for, and then there’s…”

  “What is it?” I asked when her voice trailed off.

  “Well, ever since I found out that my dad had cheated on my mom, I’ve been worried that the same thing could happen to me. To me, he was as perfect a man as there was, and if he could falter, well, I figured anyone could falter.”

  I didn’t know what to say to convince her that I would never cheat on her, so I just held her again. I don’t know how long we stood there under our carport, wrapped in each other’s arms, but Achilles soon grew tired of us ignoring him. He began barking and running back and forth at our feet.

  “What else did Mrs. Beaman say?” I asked when Susan let me go to show Achilles some attention.

  “Nothing much, really, other than she thinks Pauline killed Lance to keep him from exposing her.”

  I remembered the incident that took place after the debate and asked if Mrs. Beaman mentioned what that was about.

  “Yeah, she said Lance told Pauline that she’d better drop out of the race or he was going to expose her affair and turn all of the townswomen against her.”

  In the few years I had been in Mechant Loup, I’d learned that the women in town believed strongly in marriage, family values, and God. When I was chief of police, I’d fielded more than a few complaints from some o
f these God-fearing women who felt that Officer Amy Cooke wore her pants way too tight and showed off too much cleavage.

  “Can’t you make her button up that shirt?” one elderly woman named Mildred had said when she caught me in a diner early one morning. “My Hal’s already had two heart attacks and if he sees everything she’s got going on up there, well, he might just have number three.”

  Amy was a good cop and a grown woman, so I wasn’t about to tell her how to dress. “Tell Hal to do what I do and he’ll be just fine,” I’d told Mildred. “He might even live to be ninety.”

  “And what do you do?” she’d asked heatedly.

  “Look her in the eyes.”

  Mildred had stormed off muttering under her breath. While the women in town were somewhat divided on the issue—most of the town’s elders, like Mildred, believed women should dress more conservatively and the younger ladies believed in individual freedom—they were all united when it came to adultery. Given a choice, they would probably enact harsher penalties for adultery than murder, so I knew they would all turn against Pauline if they learned she was sleeping with a married man.

  “Do you believe Mrs. Beaman?” I asked Susan.

  She shrugged. “I’ve got no reason to doubt her. She said Lance claimed Pauline threatened him when he said he’d expose her, but she wasn’t there to hear it. She thinks Pauline was afraid that Lance would make good on his threat, so she killed him before he could expose her.”

  I didn’t like it one bit, but I knew I’d better not defend Pauline any more. Fact was, the only reason I felt obliged to Pauline was because of what she’d done for the woman I loved. It had nothing to do with Pauline and nothing to do with me…it was all about Susan.

  I glanced around the patio. “Well, I guess we’d better get back out there and find out if the surveillance cameras from M & P Grill show Pauline coming and going from her house.”

  Susan glanced at her phone and shook her head. “That fire marshal should be in town by now, so it’s probably better if you got him involved in the case.”