Revenge: A Clancy Evans Mystery (Clancy Evans PI Book 4)

by M. Glenn Graves

  “What does that mean?” Saunders sounded less sure of herself for the first time.

  “Who’s your daddy?”

  “Where on earth are you going with this conversation?”

  “To the heart of the matter.”

  “Is that one of those silly modern slang questions?”

  “I don’t intend it to be. I was wondering if you knew who your father was.”

  “What has the identity of my father got to do with your present desperate, imminent termination?”

  “Well, we have some time before the other guests arrive, so I thought we might talk a bit about you. I simply started at the beginning. Who did Selma marry?”

  “She never married. She died giving birth to me. Reverend Rowland told me that I was a miracle child, and that I was lucky to be born.”

  “What happened to your father?”

  “I was never told anything about my father. My father has nothing to do with us.”

  “Curiosity on my part. There seem to be significant questions about who hooked up with Selma in order for you to be born.”

  “Ancient history as far as I am concerned. Not important to me.”

  “Well, if you are going to end my life, I would like to know who you are.”

  “Something to take to the grave with you?”

  “Complete knowledge.”

  “You’re a strange creature, Clancy Evans. Most people would care more about saving their lives than knowing who it is that is taking it from them.”

  “You haven’t taken it yet.”

  “Your end is imminent, my dear.”

  “Perhaps, but in the meantime, you have nothing to lose if you humor me and we share some details.”

  “Indeed, nothing to lose. You have questions besides the identity of my father?”

  “Tell me about your Aunt Bella,” I said.

  If she recognized the name, the expression on her face never changed. Her stoic demeanor was intact. Her poised facial palette remained unchanged and indeterminate for the duration.

  “You have the better of me, Clancy. I know of no such person in my family. Is this someone with whom I should get to know?”

  “To be sure,” I said. “To be sure.”

  Chapter 39

  “With whom are you speaking, Clancy? Have some of our guests begun arriving?” Aunt May said as she entered the great room. Saunders returned to the shadows at the sound of May’s question.

  “Good morning, Aunt May. So nice to see you on this ominous day,” Saunders said to May.

  “To what portents do you refer?” May replied, half jokingly.

  “The gun I am holding in my hand for one,” Saunders said.

  May stepped back and flipped the wall switch turning on the table lamp beside the corner chair next to where Saunders was hidden. Saunders was startled momentarily by the light.

  “No jest, May. The day is not dawning to your liking.”

  May looked in my direction and I shrugged.

  “How did she get in?” May asked. I assumed she was asking me.

  “Snakes usually slither through the smallest of holes.”

  “Nasty,” Saunders began, “is not a good way to speak about a guest.”

  “You’re not a guest here,” I said.

  “I am not welcomed in your home?”

  I assumed that the remark was for Aunt May, but I answered instead.

  “You were not invited,” I said.

  “But you knew I would come.”

  “I hoped you would come.”

  “Indeed. You hoped. How interesting. You make it sound as if you had planned this.”

  “You’d be surprised to know the extent.”

  “I am intrigued a bit. By the way, how long do we have to wait for the remaining guests to arrive?”

  “Hard to say,” I said.

  “Aunt May, dear,” Saunders said, “what time is the feast to be served?”

  “Early afternoon, when everyone is here,” May said.

  “Well then, we have time to sit and be civil with one another. May I have a cup of coffee?”

  May moved to the kitchen without answering. I could hear her retrieving a cup from the cupboard, pouring coffee, and then returning. She was holding the coffee pot in her right hand and the cup full of coffee in her left. She handed the cup of coffee to Saunders.

  I wondered why Saunders would allow my Aunt May to leave the area and bring her coffee. It dawned on me that Saunders had likely entered the cabin before anyone had awakened, searched the un-peopled spaces to make sure that there were no weapons to retrieve or to utilize.

  “You want some more coffee, Clancy?” May asked.

  I nodded and she filled my cup.

  “I think I will have a cup of coffee as well,” May said as she moved back to the kitchen to retrieve another cup. She returned and sat down.

  I watched Saunders drink her coffee using her right hand while the left hand held the 9mm firmly. It was resting on her left leg yet still pointing in my direction. I was the object of her favor. I did surmise that the weight of the 9mm was not the usual fare for her left hand.

  A board creaked behind and above me. My ever-present detective skills informed me that someone was lurking on the balcony which led to the two bedrooms.

  “We’re missing Rachel Jo,” Saunders said looking up. “Is she awake or sleeping in?”

  “Mother, why don’t you come down and join us.”

  Saunders directed her gaze to the landing above my head. There must have still been shadows there since I saw little recognition on Saunders’ face as she carefully waiting on my mother to come downstairs.

  “And Mother, leave the shotgun on the landing there. You won’t need to bring that down to breakfast.”

  “I think I will stay here with the shotgun for the time being,” Rachel said.

  Saunders shifted her seated position slightly. I figured the word shotgun got her attention.

  “Mother, if you miss, then our uninvited guest will shoot me and you will be daughterless. I really don’t want to die today, so I strongly insist that you put the shotgun down and come downstairs. Join us for coffee.”

  I didn’t take my eyes off of Saunders and the gun pointing at me, but I could hear movement above and was hoping that my mother was complying with my urgent request.

  “You are fortunate my mother is not me,” I said to Saunders.

  “How so?” Saunders said.

  “I would not have hesitated, and you would be quite dead.”

  “He who hesitates,” Saunders said.

  “I don’t randomly shoot people simply because I do not like them,” Rachel said.

  “A pity. Your death could have easily been delayed had you some of your daughter’s acumen.”

  Mother descended the staircase and approached our gradually growing little group.

  “Coffee’s in the kitchen, Rachel,” May said as if nothing unusual had just happened.

  “I don’t drink with people who plan to kill me,” she answered.

  “You might as well be sociable, Rachel Jo. It’s going to be a while before I can accomplish my goals here. In fact, I think we should all have some breakfast. Perhaps something light since you are planning a heavy lunch a little later.”

  May stood up as if on cue. She began walking in the direction of the kitchen.

  “I’ll help May prepare the breakfast,” Mother said.

  “No,” Saunders said abruptly. “I think it best if you allow May to do that alone. You sit down and join our conversation. I have questions about your daughter, questions that only a mother would know.”

  It was one thing for Saunders to permit Aunt May to go and come from the great room to the kitchen, but quite another to allow two people such freedom. Two people often get together and plan, plot, think, connive and usually do something quite stupid in a hostage situation like this. Besides all that, Saunders was smart enough to know that Rachel Jo was tougher than Aunt May, and if Saunders was
to have difficulty with anyone besides me and Rosey, it would be my mother.

  Saunders pointed the pistol in my mother’s direction as if to add force to her directive. Thank goodness my mother obliged. Even in the face of a stacked deck, my mother can be hard-headed. It’s not as though my mother and I find ourselves together in such tight places as this. Still, through the years, I have noticed that on occasion I do have to be concerned about her obstinacy.

  May prepared biscuits for the small group and served each of us in turn. Since Aunt May had the dining room table all set for our festive midday meal, she would not allow us to sit at the table to eat.

  We ate our biscuits and drank our coffee in silence. I wondered where Rosey and Sam were. It was past time for them to return. I knew that Saunders was thinking the same.

  I noted that Aunt May and Rachel were quite contained under this unusual stressful situation. Still, the whole scene was surreal. It was like sitting on the edge of a volcano with the certain knowledge that at any moment it would explode. At least I felt like someone sitting on the edge. I didn’t really know what May and Rachel were feeling. Besides anger.

  Sarah Jones arrived during our light breakfast fare. She seemed to be unaffected by the woman in the corner chair with the handgun. Sarah has been through much in her long life, so I guessed that one more adventure was not going to push her over the edge. She drank coffee but said little. All in all she seemed rather calm. She made herself at home in our little surreal setting.

  Rosey and I had made prior arrangements for Estelle Stevens to come with Captain Wineski. They arrived around eleven or so. Wineski was not a happy camper when he discovered the situation as he entered the cabin. He likewise was not thrilled about handing over his firearm to this mad woman who remained excruciatingly composed about the whole ordeal. Such is the behavior of some maniacal serial killers. Apparently pathological murderers are a breed unto themselves. Duh.

  My brother Scott and Uncle Walters joined the party at noon. Aunt May was busy in the kitchen still thinking that she had to feed all of these people. I knew that Saunders was not going to let our party go that far. Everyone was in the fold except for Rosey. Since Saunders had no knowledge of Diamond, she had no way of knowing that in all likelihood Diamond was nearby somewhere in the woods zeroing in on our little gathering. She was a professional assassin, so it would take her little time to realize that something unusual was happening. With all the light which the multiple windows permitted to penetrate the cabin at this time of day, Diamond would have a clear view of the growing party seated around the great room. Living in the country affords the dweller the privilege of not having to use blinds or drapes or other decorative obstacles to hide behind as city dwellers are wont to use. Privacy in the remote woods is a given, not something one has to create with adornments.

  “Call Rosey on your cell and tell him it is time to come inside. Tell him to bring the dog too,” Saunders said.

  I was punching in the numbers for Rosey’s phone when someone knocked on the front door. Aunt May opened it and Bella Cantrella entered. She was dressed in her finest fortune teller outfit which was a grand conglomeration of colors unmatched by the finest clothing designers in the world. The most obvious detail about her clothing was the extravagant colors that covered nearly every inch of her body except for the face and hands. She was wearing an impressive scarf about her head whose colors matched in no way her blouse and dress. She reminded me of a clown in search of a circus. I think she came to the right place.

  As she entered the cabin, she immediately sized up the situation and showed little, if any, surprise at finding our group held at bay by Saunders. She captured the ambience of our dire situation and blended in as if she knew precisely what was happening.

  I moved away from my seat and nodded in the direction of Bella by way of greeting her as I waited for Rosey to answer his phone. Bella moved towards the center of the large room in the direction of Saunders and then stopped. Saunders was occupied with watching this newcomer, so I took advantage of Bella’s diversion and moved to the glass double-doors of the entrance to the cabin.

  I looked back in the direction of Saunders who motioned with her handgun for me to come back to her side of the room. Apparently I had not been as stealthy as I had imagined. In light of her 9mm waving at me, I obliged my returning to her side of the room.

  En route Rosey answered. I was now within earshot of Marilyn Saunders.

  “Time to come home. Everyone has gathered.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Even the guest of honor.”

  “I missed her entrance.”

  “You did. She’s been asking about you. Make sure Sam comes along as well.”

  “Should I try something heroic?”

  “Saunders would highly discourage that. No second chances.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Tell Saunders not to begin the party without me,” Rosey said and terminated our connection.

  I slid the phone into my pocket and sat down.

  Saunders smiled at me. “I hope your friend heeds your warning. Whatever he suggested, I would heartily discourage it. I would just hate for Roosevelt Washington to be the cause of your death. Would be a real pity, Clancy Evans … a real pity.”

  Some alien sadistic laugh-sound erupted from her at that moment. Whatever sanity she might have left was slipping slowly away. For sure. Maniacal. Pathological. And insane. Quite the combination, I should say.

  “Well,” Bella said looking around the room at the people assembled, “I sees that evul has you people in her throes. I reckon I got here in the nick ‘a time. Now what are we to do about this desperate situation?”

  Chapter 40

  “Who are you and who invited you to this party?” Saunders said as she stood up from her corner seat.

  “I’m Bella Cantrella Cantrell, and I invited myself, with Clancy’s okay,” she said.

  “Are you related to Clancy Evans?”

  “Good heavens, no!” she said with too much enthusiasm I thought.

  “So, you must be a friend of hers, a close friend.”

  “Not that either.”

  Saunders looked at me as if to ask the question. I shrugged.

  “You said your name was Bella … is this the person you spoke about earlier?” Saunders said to me.

  I nodded.

  “Did Clancy not warn you of the danger you’d be in coming here?” Saunders said to Bella.

  “What danger?” she was playing dumb.

  “I plan to kill Clancy Evans and all of her close friends and family.”

  “Why would you do that?” Bella asked.

  “To return the favor for her not giving me my due with Reverend Robert Lee Rowland. I worked hard for that man … did his every bidding. I even killed for him. He never appreciated a thing I did. I practically slaved for that man. So, one day I decided that I had enough and planned to quit and tell him off. Clancy Evans here ruined my plan. I blame her for Robert Lee Rowland up and dying before I could get my revenge on him.”

  “So if Rowland said to kill people, you killed people?” I said to Saunders.

  “He was a man of God, highly respected. He has his reasons for taking the lives of the people I killed. They all hurt him badly and deserved to die. I had no problem killing for him. Only problem I had was that he never gave me any credit for my part in carrying out his wishes. I planned it all. I did it!”

  “They served on a jury that found his son guilty of murder, a hate crime – a black man and a white girl had the audacity to fall in love and his son killed them both,” I said to clarify what Rowland wanted done and why.

  “I never questioned Reverend Rowland. I merely carried out his wishes to the best of my abilities,” Saunders said.

  Bella moved over to an available chair near Saunders and sat down. I moved away from the glass doors and shifted my position in the direction of May who was busy in the kitchen to my right. As I shifted positions, I just happen to notice some
one sitting in the driver’s seat of a car outside. The car had Kentucky plates. I figured it was someone accompanying Bella. He likely had been her designated driver for the occasion.

  “Perhaps yur err’ was in trustin’ Rowland in the furst place,” Bella said.

  “That’s hindsight, for sure. But what gives you the right to say that? Did you know the man?” Saunders snapped.

  “I know’d him a long time back, another life, another name; but, he wuz the same varmint, always getting’ his way with things.”

  “All I know is that he took care of me and gave me a good life. If he had only given me some credit for all I did for him, if only he had done that. But he didn’t and he deserved to know how I felt about it. How I felt about him at the end.”

  “And well he should’ve,” Bella said.

  “You bet your life he should’ve … but wait, why do you say that? You didn’t know all that I did for him.”

  “Nun of that matters, not really. He shud’of taken care of you.”

  “Why? He hired me in order to help me. I had no family. Nobody. He took me in and then … used me without giving me recognition for what I accomplished.”

  “He wuz yur father.”

  Saunders was momentarily speechless. She stared at Bella in a hard way. For a second I thought that she might shoot Bella, but the pistol remained motionless at her left side.

  The sudden revelation took me aback for a moment as well. I began putting some of the informational pieces that Rogers had discovered together. I wish I could have called Rogers in that instant and shared this bit of news. A CPU is handy when tying up loose ends of a convoluted story. Especially one like Rogers. Once again she had been correct in her theory of what had happened. I was beginning to think that she had psychic powers like Bella in addition to everything else in her unique repertoire.

  “You’re a liar,” Saunders countered.

  “I ain’t lyin’ ‘bout this. Yur dear old daddy raped my sist’r Selma, yur muther, and yur the result of that horrid event.”

  “I don’t believe a word of it,” Saunders said, but there was a slight hesitancy in her tone.