“Okay.”
“When I spoke to him, he alluded to his wife being, shall we say..."
"Flirtatious?"
"Good enough. She wasn't faithful to him during their marriage, and her actions made him angry. That was why he had to get away from her."
"Interesting." I heard the sound of an object tapping on the other end of the line, like a pen on a desk pad. "He never expressed that to us."
"It's probably nothing. He seemed so nice."
"Some of the nicest people I've ever met turned out to be killers."
Chapter 8
That night Leo trudged in from his commute, ready to spend a few days with his family. It was wonderful he wouldn’t be going back and forth for a while, especially in light of everything that had happened with the neighbor. We discussed the details of the case late into the night. The next morning, as I sat on the back deck drinking coffee and enjoying the wonderful morning ocean breeze, there was a metallic clank next door, shattering my peace and harmony with the waves.
Leo heard it too. He had just stepped out on the deck while carrying a cup of coffee. "What was that?"
I looked in the direction of the metallic sound. Julian Brewer’s car was parked at Rhoda Warren’s house. I recalled him saying he was returning to Pasadena, and I had watched him drive off in the direction of Houston.
"Who is that?” Leo asked, pointing toward Julian Brewer’s car.
"That's Rhoda Warren’s first husband. Julian Brewer.”
"I thought you said he left. Why’s he still there?"
"I have no idea. I thought I had the only key to the place."
Leo leaned over the balcony, watching Julian going in and out of the neighbor’s house. "Do you think he might've broken in?"
"He must have. Either that or he came up with a key.”
Leo gave me a sideways grin. “With as much male traffic as she had over there, you would think she had to change the locks now and again. Something's fishy. Maybe we should call the police. Is her house still an official crime scene?"
I rose from my deck chair and set my coffee on the railing. “I doubt it. They let me get the dog food. Let's ask him why he felt the need to come back. I'll just run over and see what he's doing."
"No, you won't." Leo rarely played macho man on me, but today he was channeling Arnold Schwarzenegger.
"Come on. I was already over there with the guy yesterday."
"I’m coming with you." End of discussion.
~*~
"Julian?" I called out, as we entered the open back door of Rhoda’s house.
"Julian? It's me, Betsy. You didn't tell me you were coming back here." As Leo and I came around the corner, we found Julian Brewer putting items into a cardboard box. There were several more brown cartons spread out across the room. The folds of a set of beige drapes were hanging over the edge of one open box, and a dusty birdcage balanced on top of a stack in another.
"I didn't know I needed to tell you I'm coming back here. Rhoda was my wife after all."
Leo stepped forward. "Your ex-wife. There's a difference."
"My ex-wife then.”
I stepped forward and put my hand on Leo’s arm. “This is my husband, Leo Fitzpatrick.”
“Julian Brewer. Nice to meet you. After I left your wife yesterday, I realized there was a lot more in this house that belonged to me. I don't think the man she was last married to is going to know what to do with all this stuff. I decided to do him a favor and take it off of his hands."
His explanation sounded plausible, but it also sounded like something a thief would say as he emptied your silver drawer.
"Doesn't she have other family that would have a right to her belongings?"
Julian Brewer stopped abruptly, facing me as if I were a small child asking for candy after a long day. He ran his hands over the smooth skin on the top of his head. "Look. You aren’t even a part of all of this. You’re the nosy neighbor with the out-of-control dog. This is none of your business, and if it were, you would know I’m only taking the items that were ours when we were married. It's simple as that."
"So if I were to call her second husband or the police, they would entirely approve of what you're doing?"
"I don't care who you call. Once I get my truck loaded, I'm out here. As a matter fact, I feel a big change coming into my life. Texas is getting a little too stuffy for me."
He picked up a green smoothie maker and began to place it in a box. I stood in front of him, my hands on my hips. "You can't leave the state. You’re part of a murder investigation."
"And who are you to tell me that?” Brewer asked.
"I’m the daughter of a cop, and I've been around enough murder investigations to tell you that taking flight now is not a good idea."
"Taking flight? You act like I'm some sort of a murderer. I sincerely hope they do get whoever murdered Rhoda, but it wasn’t me. I was at work at the chemical plant on the night of her murder. Awful job, probably gave me cancer. Anyway, the police checked me out already. Between the two of us, you had more of a motive than I did.”
“You still can’t leave. You might know something the police need to solve the case.”
“Then they can call me. I’ve spent so much time and energy hoping Rhoda and I would get back together again. Now that it’s no longer possible, as strange as it sounds, I feel freed from addiction. I’m ready to move on, and I have a right to live my life."
"I'm calling the police." Leo pulled out his cell phone.
"You can do that, but you need to get out of this house."
Now he was telling us to leave? Give this guy an inch…I leaned over and whispered to him, "This is not your house. You can’t order people out of it."
He whispered back. "It's not your house either, so the same goes for you."
Chapter 9
As we walked back to Gwen’s house, I was shaking. "Leo, I think he's the one who murdered Rhoda."
"He sure is acting guilty."
"But he has an alibi. The man she was out with that night has an alibi. Shoot, he’s even got a video to prove where he was."
"Okay. So neither of those two men could have done it, which leads us to the obvious question—who did do it?"
Warm sand sifted into my sandals. It would be another beautiful day at the beach. With everything going on, I wished that I could just soak up the sun and enjoy being with my children. Still the world of show dogs, murder, and video alibis danced around in my head. "It seems like everybody has a video of everything these days. I just wish Rhoda Warren would've had surveillance videos at her house."
Sometimes, when you’ve been married for a while, two brains hold a single thought. Leo and I stopped walking at the same time and did an about-face, looking at Rhoda’s house. "Do you see any cameras?"
Leo put his hand up over his eyebrow to shade from the sun. "No. I don't see anything. I also don’t remember seeing any viewing screen inside her house."
"Darn. If there was video surveillance, I'm sure the police would've found it, anyway."
"Sure. It's one of the first things they look for when there is an intruder. It solves the crimes for them." We turned back. As we drew closer, the sun glinted off of the eye of a green metal lizard nailed to the outside of Gwen’s house. It wasn't unusual to see things like this on a beach house. He was cute with his black eyes and S-shaped body. Blue and yellow flowers and orange butterflies playfully surrounded him. As I pulled my gaze away from the colorful creature, I realized I'd been looking in the wrong direction for a camera. I broke away from Leo and ran inside yelling for my mother-in-law.
"Gwen! Do you have cameras on the outside of your house?"
Gwen was holding up Coco as she tottered around the room. "Our little girl is getting this walking down. You're going to be running after her in no time. What were you saying?"
"You have a camera on your house? Do you have a security system?"
"Well, sort of. Living here on the beach is a wonderful thing, but come sprin
g break it's like living through a month of frat parties. I have one camera mounted outside. It's pointed at the beach. It will do a one hundred eighty degrees radius if there is any movement. I put it up after some of those darlings from various colleges across the nation spray-painted some choice words on my sidewalk."
"So does that mean it was running the night the neighbor was murdered?"
"Oh no, dear. I turned it off after spring break. That's really the only time I need it. Here, let me show it to you on my computer. I probably have the last few days of April on there. You can see which direction it's pointed. It's a wonderful little gadget."
Coco put her hands up to me. This was her signal for me to pick her up. Enough of this walking stuff, Mom was here. I picked her up and followed Gwen into her home office, which was now doubling as the nursery. She wiggled the mouse and pulled up the screen and then clicked on a little camera icon on her desktop.
"It'll just take a minute."
In just a few seconds the beach view came up showing Leo talking to Tyler.
"That's funny. I don’t remember you guys coming here for spring break."
"That's because we aren’t looking at spring break. That’s Leo and Tyler at this moment. Your camera is on."
"Impossible. I always turn it off after spring..." Gwen stopped. "Oh, my. I must've forgotten. I send all of the archived footage to an online cloud. I have months and months of surveillance video."
"Do you know what this means?"
"That I’ll be doing a lot of deleting?"
"No. That you have surveillance video of the night Rhoda Warren was murdered."
~*~
When I walked into the Galveston Elite Training Academy, Joy Turner looked different from the way I first met her. She wore khaki shorts and a blue apron over a tank top. Her hair was now pulled back in a makeshift ponytail.
"Electra, jump over the bar. Round that back." There was a treat placed strategically on the other side of the bar and the dog focused on that.
“Electra. You are not listening,” she continued. Did she know she was addressing a dog? Electra turned and wagged her tail at me.
"Electra. Focus. Sit." Joy's tone was brisk and efficient and the dog, a black and white springer spaniel, snapped to sitting. Joy's gaze met mine, and then a smile played at her lips.
"This is a surprise. Have you come to your senses and decided to hand over Miss Genevieve to me? I'm sure you figured out a long court trial would only delay the inevitable."
"Sorry. That’s not why I’m here."
"Would you like to see the breeding books showing of the lineage of Miss Genevieve and her mother, Lady Bell?”
"I'm sure you have oodles of poodles to show me, but that is not the issue. Miss Genevieve's lineage has been proven. Her ownership is quite a different matter, and I think you know that."
"You certainly seem to know a lot about dog breeding all of a sudden. Just what is it you do for a living?"
"I write a helpful hints column for my town newspaper." Upon hearing my vocation, there was a distinct difference in Joy Turner’s posture. Rising on the heels of her feet, she looked down her nose at me.
"Really? How quaint. Well, I'm sure in your vast knowledge of drain cleaners and ways to get jars open, you’ve probably never come along any information about the world of showing champion dogs."
"No..."
"And you are merely the temporary custodian of Miss Genevieve. If you’re not here to tell me I can rightfully claim Miss Genevieve, Electra and I are very busy training for a dog show. You can find your own way out."
She dismissed me in the same voice she used on Electra. I didn’t move. I was focused and ready to leap over whatever obstacle she put in front of me. "Before I leave you to your work, did the police ask you about your alibi for the night that Rhoda was murdered?"
Joy turned, her eyes clouding. "Of course not. I’m not even a suspect. You have a lot of nerve to ask me such a thing."
"So you weren’t even questioned on Rhoda's death?"
"Why would I be questioned?"
"Just out of curiosity, where were you the night Rhoda Warren was strangled to death?"
"I hardly think I have to answer to you. You write a helpful hints column, for goodness sake. Leave the premises now, before I call the police."
She was full of bluster, but she didn't scare me. "Do you drive a white SUV?"
"What business is that of yours?"
"Here’s a tip about white SUVs you may not know."
I was stringing her out. I knew it and when she answered, I could tell she knew it too. "What?"
"White SUVs show up really well on surveillance footage. Even at night."
"What surveillance footage?"
"The surveillance footage from my mother-in-law's beach house security camera. It shows you sitting in Rhoda Warren’s driveway for three hours. That Rhoda, she’s a wild one. When she’s having a good time, she doesn’t come home until the early hours of the morning. I heard she did that a lot. So, after Rhoda was dropped off by her date, there you were, getting out of your car. The motion-activated lights on the back deck switched on, and yes, the camera picked up your movement there. You were arguing. Then the two of you struggled, and it’s hard to see, but in the end only one of you stood up. Twenty minutes later the camera shows you leaving the house. You walked around slapping on your knee, and it looked like you were calling or whistling. I'm guessing you were trying to find Miss Genevieve."
"That's it. I'm calling the police. I do not need to listen to you or your false accusations."
"No need to call the police. They’re on the way."
Chapter 10
"Betsy!" Cousin Danny’s hair was wet from the ocean as he ran up the beach toward me. I finally had time to relax in my beach chair. The wind was blowing, the surf was high, and Butch’s exuberant bark could be heard as he and the boys played. We would be leaving this wonderful place after the weekend. The boy's school was starting in another week, and I needed time to get my before-school shopping done. It had been a wonderful month at the beach, the kind of vacation people don't really get any more unless you have a mother-in-law with a beach house.
"I found a shell, Betsy." Even though Danny was a grown man, the child that would always be inside of him was still fascinated by a seashell.
"Where did you find that?"
"Over there." He pointed to the dock. Danny was allowed to play in the waves close to the shore, but he wasn't a very good swimmer. Water around the dock was deeper, and he was warned not to go that far out.
"Danny, how far out did you go?"
"Not too far. The shell showed up when the water went away." Danny was referring to the waves pulling back.
"Okay, but you be safe out there." Leo, who was sitting next to me dozing, opened one eye.
"You want them to be safe like you're safe, Betsy? Why don’t you tell Danny about how you confronted a bad lady without the police to help you?"
He had me there. Once I figured out Joy Turner’s white SUV was on the surveillance tape, I called the police. The detective was on his way over, but before he could interview me I decided to talk to Joy Turner. If Julian Brewer could pack up and leave, why not her? This one was not going to get away. I figured if anything I could stall. I was lucky the police pulled up when they did.
"Did you have to talk to a bad lady, Betsy?" Danny asked his eyes widening.
"Yes, and Leo is right. I took a chance and I shouldn't have."
"My mama would get you in trouble for that."
Leo stood up as his mother and my father, Judd Kelsey, came down the beach holding Coco.
"You'll never guess what."
"Is Betsy in trouble? For talking to a bad lady?" Danny asked my father.
"Betsy gets herself in trouble all the time," my father answered, shaking his head from side to side.
"Yes, but it’s all good now. Joy Turner has been arrested. I guess she really wanted that dog."
"Yes,
I'll never watch those dog shows the same way again," Gwen agreed.
Zach and Tyler came running up with Butch lagging behind them.
Judd put both hands over his mouth and shouted as the boys neared. "I think this summer at the beach has made you boys soft. Don't you have football practice starting soon?"
Tyler, answered, slightly out of breath. "Yes. It started last week, but coach says it’s okay I’m not there yet. I can catch up next week."
"Even the dog has slowed down. What's going on with you, boy?" Judd said, petting Butch.
Zach smiled. "He’s heartbroken. His summer fling didn’t work out."
Tyler patted Butch's head. "Don't worry, boy. When we see her in a dog show, we’ll print out her picture. You can pin it up in your dog house."
Aunt Maggie started trudging through the sand from the house to join us. She wore a giant straw sun hat that almost engulfed her head. In her hand, she held a teething ring all the colors of the rainbow.
"You forgot this. My great-niece is going to need it."
My father held up Coco as she squealed. "This little lady had a surprise for us, and her bad mood ought to be going away lickety-split."
He gently pushed back her bottom lip, and a brand-new tooth was poking through the pink skin of her gums.
"A new tooth. No wonder she was crying so much."
"Coco will get a visit from the tooth fairy," Danny added, clapping his hands together.
"Not until she loses the tooth," Zach reminded him.
Aunt Maggie linked her arm in mine. "Have you had a nice summer at the beach, darlin’?"
I looked over at the neighbor's house with a fresh “For Sale” sign stuck in front of it. "Yes, for the most part."
Leo leaned in, the summer sun giving his skin a light pink tinge. "As much as we've enjoyed our stay with my mother, the next time we go on vacation, we won't be bringing the dog."
Danny scratched his head. “Hey, Leo. What’s a Weimerdoodle?”
Zach laughed, “It’s what you get when you mix a Weimaraner and a poodle. One, big, curly mutt.”
--The End--
Teresa Trent writes the Pecan Bayou Mystery Series that takes place in a little town in Texas. The first of the series, A Dash of Murder, stars Betsy Livingston, a helpful hints writer, on a paranormal investigation with her beloved Aunt Maggie. The Pecan Bayou Series continues as Betsy solves mystery after mystery all the while providing helpful hints and recipes in the back of each book. Find out more about Teresa on her website http://www.TeresaTrent.com.
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