Sleuthing Women

by Lois Winston

  Mama gestured in the direction of Ed’s house. “That man spends days at a time inside that tomb. I don’t like the way his eyes look.”

  I blinked. Mama’s line of warped reasoning was a good example of what happened when someone smashed the wrong puzzle pieces together. The assembled picture wasn’t recognizable. “For heaven’s sakes, what’s wrong with his eyes?”

  Mama fingered her triple-stranded pearl necklace. “They’re shifty. That’s what. I’ve been judging people all my life, and I know that man has a deep, dark secret. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s an underworld crime boss or something.”

  I blinked again. “Ed Monday? If he were a crime boss in Hogan County, don’t you think we would have noticed folks coming and going at all hours of the night? For your information, there’s a recurring clerical error in Ed’s bank account.”

  I took a deep breath. “I thought Ed was having a heart attack right there on his porch. Why don’t we install bars on our windows and doors if you’re afraid of him?”

  Mama’s small-minded accusation rankled my nerves. Was she just shooting her mouth off again? “If you’re so worried about our shifty-eyed neighbor, why haven’t you said anything before now?” I asked.

  Mama pursed her lips momentarily. “That’s not necessary and you know it. But you could exercise some common sense and not sit on the man’s porch. He wants privacy, so leave him alone.”

  There was no point arguing with Mama when her mind was made up. “I’m giving him privacy.”

  “Mark my words. He’s a bad egg. I tell you it’s not natural for a body to want to be by themselves that much. Something is very wrong over there.”

  Was Mama extremely paranoid or was she right? Either way I didn’t want her to lecture me for another half hour. Time to change the subject. “What’s the news from the beauty shop?”

  Mama touched her freshly coiffed hair and beamed. “The word is out that the financing got pulled from that White Rock development. Margie Albright says that Robert Joy is spitting mad and is threatening a lawsuit and a big tell-all exposé to the newspaper.”

  That acreage had a colorful past. Sixty years ago, a house of ill repute had been located in those cornfields. It seemed poetic justice that people were still getting screwed on that parcel of land. “Who put up the money for that place?”

  “All the ladies were speculating about it. Valley Land Company. Does that ring any bells?”

  “Sounds familiar.” I knew exactly who Valley Land Company was. I had filed tax forms for his corporation, but he’d meant to keep his name out of his business affairs. My lips pressed firmly together so that his name wouldn’t leak out.

  I was bound by confidentiality to protect my client’s privacy. Not exactly lawyer–client privilege, but the same principle applied to conversations with my clients. If I spoke his name to Mama, she’d be on the phone before I could close my mouth.

  Valley Land Company was the brain child of my biggest client. Blabbing would be very bad for my bottom line.

  Time to change the subject again. “What’s for dinner?”

  Ever since the funeral, Mama and the girls had been cooking together. Both Charla and Lexy knew enough of the basics that Mama shouldn’t ruin their cooking common sense at this stage of their lives. And, it gave the girls quality time with their grandmother.

  I wish I’d had my parents over for dinner more when Daddy was alive. In those days I’d been busy juggling so many balls in the air that when I left the office after spending the day with Daddy, going home to Charlie and the girls was all I could think about.

  Mama squared her shoulders. “Tonight’s going to be turkey surprise.”

  My mouth went dry. Food surprises were not good things. “Oh? What’s the surprise?”

  “I don’t know,” Mama cackled happily. “I’ve left that part to the girls.”

  Water. I needed water. After filling a glass with tap water, I said, “Just make sure we can eat it. I can’t afford to send out for pizza two or three times a week when dinner bombs. We don’t want a repeat of Spickle Fish Lasagna.”

  Mama’s expression grew solemn. I guess she didn’t like being reminded of her big mistake. “How’s the big romance coming along?” she asked.

  My love life was not open to discussion with Mama. “Nothing to tell.”

  “I bet he’ll be over here again soon and I’ll ask him myself,” Mama declared. “What are you doing to keep Jonette out of jail?”

  What was with all the questions? Did Mama think she was a reporter for the five o’clock news? “I assume you’re talking about Dudley’s murder?”

  Mama nodded, wiping dry the spot of water I’d inadvertently sloshed on the counter next to the sink.

  Murder was much easier to talk about than my sex life. “I thought Violet Cooper had a good motive to kill Dudley because of her embezzled pension fund, but she can’t see much of anything, so that lead is a dead end. Now Ed’s got this banking problem and I’m thinking that might be something. Good thing I know someone down at the bank.”

  “Bad idea,” Mama warned.

  Mama’s worst fear was that I would forgive Charlie and take back up with him again. “Charlie owes me,” I insisted. “I may as well start collecting now because life is short.”

  “I don’t want him in this house.” Mama barred her arms across her chest.

  “I didn’t either, in the beginning, so I went along with you. But now that I realize he can’t help being a jerk, it seems petty to make him wait outside when he comes over to pick up the girls.”

  Mama went all slitty-eyed on me. “Does that mean you’re over him?”

  The truth was, I did feel like I was over Charlie. Getting over someone was like one of those stock market tickers, where the net result was a one-way trend, but on a daily basis there were lots of little peaks and valleys.

  At this very minute, I felt one hundred percent over him. Getting kissed by another man had a tendency to do that. “Yeah, I’m over him.”

  Mama narrowed her amber eyes as if she were going to protest, then she relaxed. “It’s okay with me if he comes inside.”

  I hugged her. “Thanks. It should make things easier on the girls if we all act like adults.”

  Mama brushed me off. “No chance of that.”

  ~*~

  Someone pounded on my front door at ten o’clock that night. I wasn’t expecting company, and I didn’t feel comfortable about answering the door this late. Madonna woofed and padded to the door, her tail wagging.

  I took that as a good sign, checked the peephole, and opened the door partway for my ex. Charlie wore the dark-green fishing vest I’d bought him three Christmases ago. His lure-adorned fishing hat sat squarely on his head. Dark shadows underscored his eyes. Charlie had aged twenty years since Dudley’s funeral.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  Charlie petted the dog. “I know I don’t have the right to ask this, but may I come in?”

  It was much easier to be over Charlie if he wasn’t standing right in front of me. “Why?”

  His bloodshot eyes met and held my gaze. “Because, even though I messed up our marriage, you and I were always friends. I could really use a friend just now.”

  I usually joked about Jonette’s lie detector being broken, but right now I wasn’t sure mine was connected. It went against my grain to be nice to him, but I couldn’t slam the door in his face either. He was the father of my children. “Come on in.”

  Charlie didn’t budge. He glanced fearfully over my shoulder. “Your Mama isn’t going to swoop in here and kick me out, is she?”

  SEVENTEEN

  “Mama’s gone to bed for the night,” I said. “You’re safe.”

  He stepped inside as if the floor were made of ice. I steeled myself against his very familiar scent. What would I do with him now that he was in the house?

  I cleared my throat softly. “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat,” he said.

  I fixed him a
cup of decaf coffee while I warmed up the leftover turkey surprise. Keeping my hands busy helped to steady my nerves. “What’s on your mind, Charlie?”

  He sat down heavily at the table. “I wanted to see you and the girls. I miss our times together.”

  Just thinking of his betrayal made my blood pressure skyrocket. My days of being the stoic martyr were over. “You should have thought of that before you jumped in bed with Denise.”

  His lips tightened into a thin disapproving line. “We could have worked things out if you hadn’t gone off half-cocked, Clee.”

  He had a lot of nerve assuming I was to blame for our divorce. The old me might not have argued with him, but the new me didn’t cave to his displeasure. “Hold on. You can’t blame our divorce on me.”

  “Why not? You’re the one who filed for divorce.”

  “What did you expect? That I would welcome you with open arms when you’d been screwing another woman’s brains out? Not in this lifetime.”

  Charlie shrugged. “Men mess up. It’s part of the Y chromosome thing. I made a mistake. You turned your back on me.”

  I wouldn’t let him paint me in this corner. “It wasn’t just one mistake. I will not stand here and listen to this. If you’re unhappy with your lot in life, don’t blame me. What’s this really about, Charlie?”

  He stared at his clasped hands resting on the heavy oak table. “I told you. I miss you.”

  I was not softening. I repeated that phrase silently until I believed it. “Have you forgotten that you’re married to another woman? Are you trying to cheat on your new wife with me?”

  “No.” He glanced at me. “Maybe. Would you?”

  I couldn’t believe he’d even think such a thing. “No. If you’re having problems with Denise, work them out with her. I don’t want to hear about them.”

  “If only it were that easy.” He laughed mirthlessly. “She had an affair. When I called her on it, she bragged that she was sleeping with my best friend.”

  I didn’t want to hear this, but I couldn’t help but think that justice was being served. Charlie was going through exactly what he’d put me through, and it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person.

  But. Denise and Dudley? “Do you believe her?”

  The microwave chimed. Neither of us moved to silence it.

  Charlie rubbed his entire face with his hands. “Because of her, the last words I said to my best friend were that I never wanted to speak to him again. I’m all torn up inside.”

  My brain processed this new information. Charlie had a strong motive for killing his best friend. He certainly knew how to handle a weapon. We’d shot skeet in the early years of our marriage. Light-years ago, but shooting was a skill a person didn’t forget.

  “What were you doing the night Dudley was killed?” I asked.

  He visibly sagged. “I was home alone. Denise spent the night with her mother.”

  So he could have done it. He could have killed Dudley. He knew about guns, he was driven by jealousy, and he didn’t have an alibi. “Does anyone else know about the affair?”

  Charlie’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know. I just have to get away for a little while.”

  This sounded familiar, like the Charlie I remembered. During our marriage, Charlie had often gone fishing when he didn’t want to deal with his problems. His predictable behavior reassured me, and I relaxed my guard.

  The microwave dinged again. This time I responded to it and removed Charlie’s food. I discarded the wax paper covering the food and placed the plate in front of him.

  “What is this?” He pointed to the ring of dark romaine lettuce, the circular bed of smoked turkey, and the honey mustard smiley face on the purple fried egg. We’d had a whole one left over from dinner. I wasn’t sure how the lettuce would hold up after heating, but hey, seeing as how I could be feeding a murderer, the crispness of his food really didn’t matter to me.

  “It’s turkey surprise and if you don’t eat every last bite, Charla’s going to be brokenhearted. Mama’s teaching her to cook.”

  “God help us all.” He took a bite. His expression grew thoughtful as he swallowed. “Not bad.”

  “I’ll tell Charla you liked it,” I murmured as I refilled both of our coffee cups. “So, are you headed up to the lake for some fishing?”

  “That’s my plan, but it’s so late, that what I’d really like to do is crash here, if that’s okay.”

  It wasn’t okay with me, not by a long shot. “You have a perfectly good bed across town, if you recall. One that has your wife in it.”

  Charlie forked in another bite, talking between swallows. “Denise and I had a big fight tonight. I can’t go back there and give her the satisfaction of winning. I told her I was going up to the cabin at the lake for a few days because I couldn’t stand the sight of her. Could I stay here, please? I still have keys to Dudley’s place, but I can’t bring myself to go over there. I’d spend the night wondering where they’d done it.”

  Justice had indeed been served. “Welcome to my world,” I said wryly.

  Charlie grimaced. “I’m sorry, Clee. I had no idea what I put you through. I’d take it all back if I could. I don’t know what I was thinking getting mixed up with Denise. I asked her for a divorce tonight and she yelled at me. She said she didn’t plan on moving out, and if I wanted a divorce, I’d have to move out and leave her the house.”

  The idea of Denise getting my house in Hogan’s Heights free and clear really bugged me. Technically it wasn’t my house anymore, but still. What right did she have to it?

  “I left tonight because I couldn’t stand being under the same roof as she was,” he said. “I’m exhausted. I don’t feel up to a two-hour drive.”

  “You could stay in a motel,” I suggested, sipping my coffee.

  Charlie scraped his plate clean. “You know how I hate motels. I like sleeping in my own bed.”

  “You don’t have a bed here. If I allowed you to stay here, you’d be staying on the couch.”

  He sighed deeply. “I couldn’t sleep with you? I promise it wouldn’t be sexual at all. I’d just like to sleep in a familiar bed.”

  I shook my head so fast my hair flew out of the clip and into my face. I shoved the loose strands behind my ear. Charlie was not weaseling his way into my life or my bed. “Absolutely not. As it turns out, my bed is a little full these days.” I was referring to the Saint Bernard he’d foisted off on me.

  Charlie scowled. “Is he here now?”

  I felt my lips round into an “O” shape. He’d misunderstood what I said, and not for the first time. “You are my only guest tonight, unless you count the dog you stuck me with.”

  In typical Charlie fashion, he ignored the part about the dog. “I don’t like you dating Rafe Golden. What do you know about him? Is he a child molester? We have to think about the safety and well-being of the girls.”

  It was a little late for him to wonder about the safety and security of the girls. If Rafe had been here, then at least there would have been a man in the house and they would be better protected than they were right now.

  My relationship with Rafe was none of Charlie’s business. I barred my arms across my chest. “Back off, Charlie. You don’t have any rights when it comes to my social life. I’ll make sure the girls’ safety isn’t jeopardized, but that’s as much as I’m willing to concede.”

  “I heard he kissed you.”

  “That kiss appears to be common knowledge,” I admitted.

  “It upsets Charla that you’re dating someone.”

  The guilt card wouldn’t work on me either. “Give me a break. Charla has held on to the hope from day one that we’d get back together. Anything that impinges on her hopes upsets her. For instance, your marriage to Denise upsets Charla, but that didn’t stop you from getting married.”

  Charla would be tickled pink that her Dad’s marriage was on the rocks, but I would never take Charlie back. Jonette was right. I’d always be wondering if he wa
s cheating on me. I was so over him. “I’ll get some clean linens and make up the couch.”

  Charlie followed me into the living room. “God, I can’t believe you’re putting me on the couch. My back is going to kill me tomorrow.”

  “You’re welcome to leave and get a motel room. If you weren’t the father of my children, I’d turn you away without a pang of remorse. Be grateful that I’m even allowing you to stay here at all. And don’t go getting any ideas. This is just for one night.”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. You’ve made your point. I am grateful. I didn’t know where else to turn.”

  That’s what happened when your world imploded. Family was all you could trust when that happened. I guess that’s why Charlie came here. We were the closest thing to family that he had. Friends and acquaintances just didn’t cut it at times like these.

  Thinking of acquaintances reminded me of Ed Monday and his banking problem. I tossed the embroidered throw pillows in the rocking chair. “Charlie, I need a favor. My neighbor is having trouble down at the bank. Could you look into it for me?”

  “Mrs. Harris?”

  “No, Ed Monday. He claims his bank statements are inaccurate. The bank insists that he has a loan that he didn’t repay. He swears he never took out a loan. Could you see what’s happening with his account?”

  “Your weird neighbor? Why would I want to help him out?”

  “Because I’m asking you to.”

  Ever the opportunist, Charlie asked. “What’ll I get for it?”

  I tossed a blanket at him. “You get to sleep on a lumpy couch. Don’t push your luck.”

  EIGHTEEN

  “Daddy!” Charla’s voice rang joyously through the house. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  I heard Charla clear up in my room as I tied my shoes. My heart ached for the family she wanted us to be. In her greeting I heard yearning and aching and worst of all, hope. My oldest daughter truly believed her parents would get back together.

  Supposing Charlie did divorce Denise, what would happen? Last night he’d sounded like he wanted us to try again. If I could trust what he’d said, he wanted me back in his life and in his bed.