Ladies Lunch Club Murders

by David Bishop

  Ann took her lips off the end of her bottle. She rested her arms on her crossed legs, and leaned toward Jack before he continued.

  “It’s mostly the Phelps death—momma’s. Neither of us could figure how her death played into the developer being behind these murders. That cleared up when Norma Taylor came along and explained how the angry son kicked his mother’s radio into her spa. Okay, that worked, but then Carter Phelps was shot dead. What’s that about? I mean, if he had committed suicide that would’ve fit, but he was shot. By whom? For what reason? Revenge? Maybe, but taken by whom?”

  “I see what you’re snagged on.” Her top leg bobbed up and down slowly—the shoe dangling just off the heel. “We may never know who shot Carter Phelps or why. Sadly, not all murders get solved.”

  “Ain’t that the truth? By the way, you look really good. The heels with the legs. The blouse. Hot. … Have you had dinner?”

  “Actually, I was going to scramble up a couple eggs with cheese and onion and eat it while I was in the tub.”

  Jack stood, took Ann’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “I’ll take care of the eggs. Go draw your tub. I’ll bring ‘em in when they’re done.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Go on.”

  “Oh, my, Mr. McCall. Why don’t you take me outta this life and make me your wife.”

  “Oh, get on with ya. Go fix your tub.”

  After she left, he walked into her living room and removed two precut strips of Velcro from his pocket. He used them to secret a small, second handgun he’d brought with him.

  In the kitchen he found a skillet and brought together a dab of butter and the things Ann wanted scrambled. He put them on a tray she had standing against the backsplash to the right of her stove. After adding a fork and napkin, he walked into Ann’s bathroom.

  The bath was steaming. The mirror was fogged. But Ann was standing, still wearing her heels, blouse and panties. “I thought you’d be in tub.”

  “I thought I would be too. Then I got to thinking that men are visual and decided you might like to watch me undress and get into the water. How ‘bout it Jackie?”

  “Please, not tonight. I’ve had a rough couple of days and I’m desperate for sleep. I came by hoping you could clear up a few things that have been keeping me awake. Still, I’d love to watch you get in the tub and eat your eggs. Let’s think of it as a preview of coming attractions. Go on now. Eggs are getting cold.”

  “I’m disappointed, but I understand.”

  Jack watched as she removed her blouse, heels, and panties, and then step into the tub. She winced slightly as she lowered herself through the steam rising from the water.

  “I brought along your unfinished beer.” He came close and set it on the sill of the tub.

  Ann smiled and brought the beer bottle to her lips. After a drink, she slid her lips a few inches down onto the bottle and back up. Jack watched her lips pucker slightly to fit over the ridge at the neck of the bottle. “So, what’s your thinking on Carter Phelps?”

  “It could be just what you said, ‘revenge and we may never know who.’ But let’s look at it from a different angle. Who benefitted by Carter’s death?”

  Ann shrugged. “Norma Taylor? With Phelps dead, the Taylor woman inherits the house.”

  Jack bobbed his head.

  “Without a mortgage,” Ann added.

  Jack smiled. “Right. And a car. Yeah. No doubt Norma Taylor benefitted. Eager to get the Phelps’ home, gave her motive to kill momma Phelps, but not son Phelps. She’d get the house and car whether Carter was alive or dead. Taylor had no motive to kill the son.”

  “If Norma’s to be believed, she and Mary Alice were like sisters. Carter destroyed that relationship. Norma Taylor started out brooding and eventually revenge killed the son.”

  “She’d have no financial benefit from his death, but, okay, revenge driven by sadness and emotion. Perhaps, like you said, it festered and her sadness morphed into anger. But that doesn’t really square with Norma salting the scene with the chocolate-covered nuts to suggest her neighbor was killed by the days-of-recognition killer. Norma killing Carter also clashes with her believing she heard Mary Alice’s voice begging her to save her son Carter.”

  When Ann finished her eggs Jack took the plate. “I’ll clean up from fixing these. See you downstairs.”

  “You’re unbelievable. Oh, before you leave, please hand me that towel from the rack?”

  Jack pulled the towel free and turned to find Ann standing in the water. “Can you help a girl dry off?”

  “Previews only, remember.” Jack draped the bath towel over Ann’s head and left with the plate and her empty bottle.

  36

  Ann came into the living room wearing a white terrycloth robe. Jack was back sitting in the corner chair. There was a fresh cold beer on the table in front of the couch where Ann had sat before her bath.

  “Thanks, Jack. What you did was really nice. I think I agree with what you said upstairs. Norma Taylor didn’t kill the Phelps woman.” Ann rolled the fresh cold bottle up her cheek and across her forehead. “But if not Norma, then who benefitted?”

  “Your paramour and boss, Governor Lennox. At my office, at the start of this case, he claimed his sister had no family and he was her only heir. That indicates he expected to get her millions.”

  “Okay.” Ann’s eyebrows furrowed, apparently in thought. She gripped her beer bottle in her fist and let her tongue circle the neck of the bottle—first clockwise, then counterclockwise. “The governor anticipating getting his sister’s money is a long way from killing his own sister to get that money. I just don’t see him doing that … being capable.”

  Ann stood. “I was so hot after that bath that I’m afraid I’ve guzzled my beer. “I’m going to get another. You?”

  Jack nodded.

  Ann’s robe silently parted when she stepped over and reached down for his empty bottle.

  He watched her leave the room. When she returned, her robe tie had been adjusted to accommodate a widescreen view of her cleavage.

  She stopped in front of Jack. “So, what’s the next question?”

  He took one of the beers. “You going to marry Governor Lennox?”

  “He’s asked me.”

  “And?”

  “You’re the first I’ve told. I accepted. We’ll announce sometime after his sister’s death gets stamped: CASE CLOSED.”

  “May I speak candidly?”

  “I’ve always been pleased that we do that.”

  “You’ve accepted a proposal of marriage from the governor of Florida, a man with aspirations to become President of the United States.”

  She nodded. “Is there a question in there somewhere?”

  “There is. After accepting his proposal, you stand in front of me flashing your tits. What’s that about?”

  “Oh, don’t be naïve. Marriage is like a job. Ambitious workers are interested in upward mobility and better pay and benefits. That’s what Trey Lennox offers. Flashing my tits, as you put it, is about lust. My lust for you. Our relationship—which I hope will continue regardless of what office Trey holds.”

  “What about CC? You’ve been stringing him along for a good while. What do you see coming from that?”

  “Okay. Let’s see.” Ann looked at the ceiling and ran her tongue over her lips. “Behind door number one is an old cop, ready to retire and live on a small pension, social security, and spend his days fishing. Behind door number two is a modestly wealthy man in his early fifties about to receive more than eight million dollars. A man who could quite possibly become the next President of the United States, making me First Lady. Now, which door should I choose?” She laughed. “Let me see. Duh.”

  “Still, CC’s been helpful to you. I figure you were with him that first night at the Phelps scene.”

  “Okay, let’s clean that up. I hadn’t yet been sent by the governor. I had driven over to spend some time with CC. When the call on Phelps came into the stat
ion it was forwarded to CC’s cell. He’d taken me out to dinner. We had desserts to go and were on the way back to my place. We went to the Phelps scene together. It looked like an accident and totally unrelated to the recent murders.”

  “But you said the governor told you Phelps was his sister.”

  “That was the next day after I told the governor another lady from the local lunch club had died. That her death had been an accident—not a murder. He asked her name. When I said Mary Alice Phelps, Lenny went ballistic. When he calmed down, he told me all about it and ordered me to keep her being his sister to myself. He told me he’d have my department sent me here to assist on the murders and he wanted me to keep an eye on his sister’s case. Soon after that, I’m not sure which day, he hired you.”

  “Did he tell you why he wanted it kept quiet?”

  “Pretty much what he told you: she was hyper-private. He wanted to respect that. He expected it would come out eventually, but he wanted to let it come if and when it did.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “That it was his decision. I told him that should he decide to run for the big job, her death could get him some sympathy votes. True as it was, I shouldn’t have said it. Not right then anyway. He went all beasty on me. … I can tell you, that wasn’t an easy week to be around Lenny.”

  “You used CC. Rushed him into concluding a finding of accidental death for Mary Alice. Then got him to agree that you hadn’t been there.”

  “Oh, that. It’s nothing. Old lady dead in an accident. It was late. Sheriff Jackson wasn’t aware I was in his county so we didn’t want my name in the file of an accidental death. As for using CC. Yeah. He gets all he can handle of what he wants. In return, he goes along with me on some stuff now and then.”

  “By ‘stuff’ do you mean, like things you’ve done for Walker & Greene?”

  “Maybe.” After saying that Ann stared at Jack. “Hey, truth is, in the end, everybody uses everybody.” She offered a nonverbal expression which seemed to translate into no big deal or so what. “Some of us are just better at it. All this stuff about my retiring with CC to spend my days cleaning his fish, phewf, no way. That’s his fantasy. It sure as hell isn’t mine.”

  37

  The sound of a throat clearing came from nearby. Jack and Ann looked up to see the shoulders of Sergeant CC Wilmer crowding the doorway to her kitchen. His service revolver filled his right hand. A small canvas sportsbag hung from his left shoulder. In that hand he held a white paper bag.

  Both CC, during his years as a military sniper, and Ann, prior to her being discredited as a British spy, had killed. They each had the requisite experience and background. But killing grandmothers would have required they shed any lingering memories of innocence like snakes shed seasonal skin.

  “You bitch, you’re fucking the governor, and just about everyone aren’t you?” He pointed his gun at her, then pounded the side of it against his chest. “Whoever you need to control.” CC waved his gun in Jack’s general direction. “What do you think about that, Jack?”

  “I’m guilty. Put me down for once.”

  CC moved to the center of the room, shrugged his shoulder, and let the sportsbag fall to the floor. “By the look of her, I’d say her plan for tonight included your second ride.”

  “Yeah.” Jack grinned. “I think you’re right. But it wasn’t going to happen. I came here to find out just how deep her involvement goes with Walker & Greene, and her role in these local murders—truth be told, your role too. How long you been out there listening?”

  “I have access to the county’s copy of the key to this place. I installed a bug awhile back. I’ve listened to your entire conversation, and came in right after she brought out the fresh beers.”

  Ann was on her feet, her hands busy pulling together the sides of her robe. “None of that’s admissible.”

  CC laughed. “Not true, my sweet thing. This condo is provided to you by the county. You signed for its use the first time you stayed here nearly three years ago. That agreement gives the county unfettered right of surveillance. The only caveat being we can’t film inside without your permission. You might remember my filming you on two separate occasions when you were, shall I say, performing. During those sessions I asked your permission and you answered that as long as the films stayed here, I could film you anytime.” CC walked over and opened the cabinet under the television and DVR player. “Those tapes are still here.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want us to share pimento cheese sandwiches and go fishing after I retire. But that doesn’t look too likely given what I’ve heard tonight. You know, on some level, I realized all along that you were using me. I just didn’t know how rotten you were inside. I really didn’t wanna know. I kept lying to myself, believing what I wanted to believe. After Jack and I talked the other night, I admitted it to myself. Admitting it and knowing it are two very different things. The tapes include your talks with the governor, with Jack, with me, and some other man I haven’t yet identified.”

  Ann extended her arms to each side. Her fingers spread. “Okay, you got me. Jigs up. But it doesn’t need to end like this. Come on, work with me you guys. There’s plenty for all three of us. When the governor’s sister’s estate gets settled, I’ll see you each get a couple of million in cash.”

  “The Phelps money goes to Governor Lennox,” CC said. “Not to you.”

  “Trey wants to be president. To him, nothing is more important. The presidential election is the super bowl of the world. After we’re married, keeping all this a secret will be as important to him as it is to the three of us. He’ll go along. There’s no way he’ll bury his ambition for the White House in order to stand in the way of his giving you each two million dollars.”

  Jack gestured toward the white paper bag still clutched in CC’s left hand. “What’s with the paper bag?”

  CC tossed the bag onto the coffee table in front of the couch. “Donuts, anyone? I expected to be on stakeout again tonight, watching our witch so I stopped by Gucci’s pastries. The owner, Momma Lucy, lives in the back and parks in her carport. She remodeled her two-car garage into the best baked sweetshop on earth. Lucy makes ‘em fresh early every morning and again mid-afternoon. I got a few glazed and several of Ann’s favorite lemon-filled. Guess she won’t want them now.”

  Jack narrowed his gaze at CC. “Why don’t you put your gun away. After we talk, we can share the donuts. Anything you wanna add to what you’ve heard?”

  Ann set her feet on the floor in front of her chair. “Guys? What about my offer? You can’t change anything that’s happened—the works done and payday is around the next corner. I’m offering you each a couple of million dollars for simply doing the paperwork a little differently. With us agreeing, Sheriff Jackson will easily fall in line.” She looked at CC and spoke scoffingly. “He always follows your lead. As for the governor, leave him to me. If he wants that nomination, and, believe me, he does, he won’t be a problem.”

  CC stared at Ann, then angled his eyes toward Jack. “When we’re done here tonight, I think you ought’a play Ann’s recorded comments for Governor Lennox. But, first, let me clear up some parts of what she’s been feeding you.”

  With his left hand still dangling over the edge of the overstuffed chair, Jack invitingly doffed his right hand toward CC.

  “First off, the death of Mary Alice Phelps’ son, Carter, I didn’t kill him, neither did Ann, at least not by her own hand. I know who pulled the trigger. I just don’t know his name. He did it for this female trash sitting with us. She wanted Carter dead to grease the shoot for his mother’s money to slide to the governor, which she sees the same as her getting it. It’s likely that, in addition to the offer she made us, she’s promised another cut of the woman’s eight million to the unnamed shooter.”

  “That’s a damn lie.” Ann started to get up but eased back into the couch when CC waved his gun toward her. “CC, we can work all this out. I’ll marry the govern
or, then divorce him. That’ll get me a generous settlement. Then we can be together, live wherever you want, and fish to your heart’s content.”

  CC emitted a rolling chuckle. “The woman never stops, does she? She’s like the energizer bunny, and not just in the bedroom. I don’t know about you, Jack, I guess I’m naïve, but I didn’t think there were women like her.”

  Jack leaned back and crossed his legs. “In the days of John Dillinger, most evil women hung around bad men to enjoy their money while feigning innocence. Today, believing in equality, evil women get their hands dirty in crime and consider the money their own.”

  “I think you’ve got something there. I guess I’m too old-fashioned. I still like to see women the way they were in the old west. They’d fuck your brains out, but not slit your throat.”

  CC took a moment to smile at some private thought. “You’ll need these, Jack.” CC pointed toward the canvas tote bag on the floor. “The surveillance tapes in there’ll corroborate what I’m telling you. Two of them are conversations I’ve had with her since you and I had our heart-to-heart the other night behind your hotel.”

  Ann slowly leaned toward the front of her cushion, her arms straightened to force more cleavage. “CC’s right about who murdered Carter Phelps, and I can identify the shooter. It went down while I was in the governor’s bed. How’s that for an airtight alibi?” She tucked her hands into her armpits. “That same guy knocked off the three old ladies. In return for the right deal I’ll testify, and the State Attorney will secure convictions on all the homicides. This is a sweetheart deal for him and the governor, who’ll pick up a gazillion political points. All of us win. Lenny becomes president. CC, you retire with two million bucks.” She smiled at Jack. “I’ve read you’re pretty well off, but who can’t use a couple extra million? Work with me, guys.”

  CC looked at Ann. “You are a viper. You used pussy and cash to get me to look the other way while you set up this other guy to do jobs for Walker and Greene.”