Family Jewels: Rose Gardner Investigations #1

by Denise Grover Swank

  “Well, dang.”

  “I know,” I sighed. “We gave fake names, so I doubt Wagner will track me back to James.”

  “Yeah.” She rubbed her temple. “Unless he saw the landscaping name on the side of the truck. Then he could figure out who you really are and connect you to James.”

  “Crappy doodles. Do you think he might have noticed?”

  “No,” she said firmly. “We didn’t give him any reason to look. Sure, you looked a little weird when you had your vision, but if anything, he was probably happy to see you go.”

  I paused, thinking it through. “Do you really believe that one of Raddy’s friends is gonna spring five grand for a vintage necklace?”

  “No,” she said. “It seems unlikely.”

  “But someone must want to pay him for it. Why else would he have hired us? He’s already put down a five-hundred-dollar deposit. He can’t be looking for that necklace just because it’s a family heirloom. Raddy Dyer doesn’t seem the sentimental type.”

  “No. He’s not,” she scowled.

  “Do you think he’s up to something?” I asked. “Is his momma involved? Rayna said she showed up asking for the jewelry.”

  She shot me a glance. “Maybe we can find out when we pay Mable Dyer a visit.”

  “You know where she lives?”

  She groaned. “Please . . .”

  It had been something of a crazy question—when it came to Fenton County, Neely Kate knew everything and then some. “Do you think we should talk to Rayna again?” I asked. “We paid one hundred and twenty-five dollars for the brooch. How much do you think she sold it to him for?”

  She shrugged. “Ten? Twenty? It couldn’t have been much if she was convinced it was cut glass.”

  I gave her a dubious look. “Could you really tell they were rubies? Or were you just goin’ along?”

  “I’m pretty sure they’re real.” She paused. “I think Mable Dyer should be our next stop.”

  Chapter 8

  Mable’s house was off County Road 110, not too far from the Sinclair station. The house was tucked in the woods, about a quarter mile off the county road. Based on the few pieces of stone in the path, the lane was supposed to be covered in gravel, but most had either been washed away or flung into the encroaching woods. I was glad my truck was four-wheel drive, but Neely Kate didn’t seem to have any trouble navigating the bumpy drive. As soon as the ramshackle house came into view, a dog released a tirade of vicious barks.

  “No sneaking up on ’em, huh?” I asked.

  “Mable’s husband is one of those off-the-grid kind of guys.”

  “What exactly does that mean?” We were known to have an off-the-grid militia hiding in the wooded hills, but as far as I knew, none of them ventured this close to town.

  “He’s just a wannabe. No electricity. No gas. They have a wood stove.”

  A woman appeared on the front porch with a shotgun pointed toward the sky.

  “And ready to shoot intruders?” I asked.

  “Apparently. Let me handle this,” she said as she reached for the door handle.

  “Be careful, Neely Kate,” I said, pulling my phone out of my pocket. I drew up Joe’s number, ready to call him as backup if necessary.

  Neely Kate opened the door and leaned her head in the opening between the door and the truck. “Mable? It’s Neely Kate Rivers, Minnie Sue Rivers’ granddaughter. I’m here because of Raddy.”

  “What’s that boy up to now?” Mable shouted, lowering her gun but still looking on guard.

  “Nothing. Me and my friend Rose just want to ask you a few questions for him. Will you talk to us?”

  “You’re really Neely Kate?” the woman asked, squinting. “Last time I saw you, you were sportin’ pigtails and overalls that made you look like you were ready to wade in high water.”

  I had a hard time picturing Neely Kate in overalls. I’d have to ask for photographic evidence later. Knowing her, she’d found a way to glam them up.

  “I’m all grown up, Miss Mable,” Neely Kate said cheerfully.

  “Well, I guess you is.” Mable turned sideways. “If you wanna come in, I ain’t gonna stop you.”

  She disappeared into the house, which looked like it had once been white. Judging from the sporadic patches of paint, it might have been when lead paint was still in vogue.

  “Do you think this is a good idea?” I asked.

  Neely Kate made a face. “Mable Dyer’s harmless.” She left the keys in the ignition and got out of the truck before adding, “It’s her husband Homer we need to worry about.” Then she shut the door.

  I looked down at Joe’s name on my screen. He’d just tell us to leave, which wasn’t the worst idea, but there was no talking Neely Kate out of it now. So I switched apps and quickly typed out a text to Jed.

  We’re at Mable Dyer’s house off County Road 110 asking about a necklace. If I don’t text you back within twenty minutes, I need you to come check on us.

  No need to tell him who “we” was. He’d know. I climbed out and stuffed my phone into my pocket, hoping he got my message.

  Neely Kate was headed toward the house, so I followed her to the porch, already having major regrets about suggesting this visit to Raddy’s mother. The barking dog, tied to a tree, still lunged at us as we walked up to the house.

  “Don’t stand there all day,” Mable called through the screen door from inside the darkened interior. “You’re getting Zeus all riled up.”

  It took me a moment to let my eyes adjust to the light, but I soon realized the living room, dining room, and kitchen were all in one small square room that couldn’t be more than twenty by twenty. Mable was standing in front of the sink, already peeling potatoes.

  “Whaddaya want to know?” she asked, her eyes focused on the potatoes.

  Neely Kate steeled her back. “Raddy says he’s missing a necklace that belonged to his grandmother.”

  Mable stopped peeling for a second before resuming her task. “So? What business is it of yours?”

  “Raddy hired Rose and me to help him find it,” Neely Kate said.

  Her head jerked up. “Why would he do a fool thing like that?”

  “He wants it back, and he asked us to look for it.”

  Mable pointed her potato peeler at us. “You listen here—you stay away from our family business.”

  “We mean no disrespect,” Neely Kate said. “We’re only doin’ what Raddy asked, and we wanted to ask you a few questions about the necklace.”

  “I ain’t answering shit. That fool’s got himself mixed up with some questionable characters.”

  “Raddy?” Neely Kate asked in disbelief.

  The older woman pursed her lips. “He’s started playing poker at the Trading Post. Everyone knows there’s nothing but trouble up there.”

  I cast a glance over to Neely Kate. Great. Daniel Crocker had been the previous crime lord, and through a gigantic misunderstanding, I’d become involved in the police force’s attempt to convict him. Crocker had been arrested and ultimately killed (by me) after he escaped. The former crime boss had been certifiably insane by the end—he’d tracked me down and attempted to murder me—but his men still held a grudge. Had Raddy really fallen in with that crowd?

  Neely Kate sucked in her bottom lip, then asked, “Do you mind if I go to the bathroom real quick? I had a bunch of Grannie’s sweet tea earlier, and it always makes me feel like a tropical storm’s rollin’ into my bladder.”

  What was she up to?

  Mable’s face seemed to soften at the mention of Neely Kate’s grandmother.

  “Grannie’s still trying to get your apple crisp recipe, you know,” Neely Kate teased. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna tell her that I tried to get it out of you while I was here. That’ll earn me some brownie points over my cousin Dolly Parton, and I could definitely use ’em.”

  “Half the county wants that recipe,” Mable said with a hint of pride.

  “I think that half of the county
went into mourning when you stopped bringing it to the annual church picnic at the Pickle Junction Christian Church,” Neely Kate said.

  The older woman bobbed her head as if to say, I know.

  Neely Kate used to go to church? Regular church attendance was part of living in southern Arkansas, but according to Neely Kate, her grandmother hadn’t brought her much when she was in her teens. Her grannie used to say that the Good Lord had deserted her after Neely Kate’s grandfather and mother took off years ago, and she was deserting him too. So how had she known about the church picnics?

  “So, can I use your restroom?” Neely Kate asked.

  Mable studied her for a moment, then said, “Yeah, but don’t flush the toilet. Homer says we can only flush twice a day.” She grimaced. “The septic lines are clogged.”

  Neely Kate nodded like it was no big deal. “Thanks, Miss Mable.”

  Then she disappeared down the short hallway, leaving me alone with our less-than-welcoming host. And from the look on the older woman’s face, she wasn’t happy about it.

  “So,” I said, trying to find some inoffensive topic to break the tense silence, “is Raddy your only child?”

  She snorted as she sent potato peels flying into a plastic bowl in the sink. “As if. He’s the oldest though. I got five.”

  “All boys?”

  “Three boys and two girls.”

  I couldn’t imagine her raising five kids in this tiny house. They could have moved here after the kids were out of the house, but somehow I doubted it. But even more confusing was the fact that Raddy had only mentioned two siblings.

  “And the girls didn’t want your momma’s jewelry?” I expected her to shut me down, but I figured it was worth a try.

  Her upper lip curled. “They didn’t want a box full of costume jewelry.”

  Costume jewelry? According to Rayna, Mable had believed the pieces were real all along. Or at least she’d claimed to. “But Raddy did?”

  “He wanted to give it to that hussy Rayna Wilcox.” She made a face. “Wanted to woo her with gemstones and gold.” She turned to me and pointed her peeler at me. “I told that boy that any woman who was won over with baubles and shiny things ain’t worth havin’.” She shook her head as she tossed her potato into a pot and picked up another one. “But the fool didn’t listen to me.”

  “I heard you went back to get it even though it wasn’t real.”

  She lifted her shoulder into a slow shrug. “What’s mine is mine. I wasn’t about to let that hussy keep my momma’s jewelry, even if it’s not worth a Buffalo nickel.”

  “Did she give it all back?”

  “I didn’t even look. She shoved the box at me, and I left.”

  Woah. That didn’t match either of their stories.

  “So has Raddy been back lookin’ for the necklace?”

  “Nope,” she said in a short tone. “He ain’t been here for months.”

  None of this was making any sense.

  “Do you still have the jewelry?” I asked. “Can we see it?”

  “Nope. I gave it to Leah. She decided she wanted it after all.”

  “Your daughter?”

  “Yep.”

  I made a mental note to talk to Leah.

  I watched Mable toss another peeled potato into the pot, and felt the awkward silence return.

  But Neely Kate emerged from the hall, wearing a big smile. “Thank you so much for letting me use your restroom.”

  Mable spun around. “You didn’t flush it, did you?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  The older woman relaxed. “Good. Homer would have a fit if he came home and found clean water in the toilet.”

  I tried not to shudder. Homer sounded like a keeper.

  Mable took a breath and looked like she was about to say something, hesitated, then launched in. “I don’t know what that fool Radcliffe’s up to, but you two need to leave this alone. Leah’s got all the jewelry now, and it sounds like Raddy’s fixin’ to stir up more family drama I don’t wanna deal with.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Neely Kate said, a little too eagerly for my taste. “We sure will.”

  “And . . .” Mable looked nervous. “Whatever you do, don’t tell Homer you were lookin’ for anything. Or mention the jewelry at all.”

  Neely Kate’s smile faded. “I won’t—we won’t. We’ll get out of your hair now,” she added, and I eagerly followed her out the door.

  We were almost to the truck, having taken a wide arc to stay out of the angry dog’s reach, when a beat-up black Jeep with a white front fender pulled in behind the truck and stopped.

  “Well, crap,” Neely Kate mumbled. “I didn’t expect to see Homer. Last I heard, he was workin’ the second shift at the aluminum plant up in Columbia County.”

  “So this is a bad thing?” I asked as my heart picked up speed.

  “Let’s just say it’s not good. He’s got a bit of a temper, so let me do the talkin’.” Then she stepped in front of me. “Hello, Mr. Dyer. I haven’t seen you since I was in middle school. It’s me, Neely Kate Rivers.”

  The older man walked toward us with a hard expression in his eyes. He wore jeans, a T-shirt, and a pair of dirty work boots. Stubble covered his face and his salt-and-pepper hair looked in need of a trim. His dark, cold eyes were what scared me the most. He looked like he was capable of killing us both and tossing our bodies to the dog for dinner.

  How long had we been here? Long enough for Jed to make his way here and save us if we needed help?

  “What are you doin’ here?” he asked in a low growl.

  “We stopped by to see Miss Mable,” Neely Kate said in a bright and cheery voice as though she was having a chat with Maeve. “My grannie’s dying for her apple crisp recipe, and Grannie’s birthday’s comin’ up, so I thought I’d make another effort to get it. But Miss Mable’s got that recipe locked up tighter than the gold at Fort Knox.”

  Homer Dyer’s expression said he didn’t believe her story for a minute. He stopped in front of us, purposely blocking our path. “You’re not welcome here. Mable let you in?”

  Crap.

  “No,” I said, lying to protect her. “We kind of forced our way in.”

  “So you’re trespassers?” he asked, making it sound like a trespasser was akin to a serial murderer.

  “Not really,” Neely Kate said. “It’s not trespassin’ if you’re visiting an old friend.”

  Homer moved closer, practically chest-to-chest with Neely Kate, his face turning red. “You’re no friend of my wife’s.”

  “Okay,” Neely Kate conceded, holding his gaze, his face only inches above hers. “More like acquaintances, but friendly enough to stop by and say hello. We’ve missed her at church.”

  His eyes darkened. “She don’t go to church no more.” From his tone, I had to wonder if that was his doing or hers.

  But Neely Kate wasn’t backing down. She glared at him. “Which is why we miss her. Because she hasn’t been.”

  “You gettin’ sassy with me, little girl?” Homer asked, grabbing Neely Kate’s arm.

  “Are you bein’ an asshole, Homer Dyer?”

  “Nobody talks to me with disrespect and gets away with it,” he said, lifting his hand as if to hit her, when Jed’s voice called out, “Is there a problem here, Dyer?”

  Homer’s grip tightened on Neely Kate’s arm, and he glanced back at Jed, who was now standing beside my truck. “What the hell are you doin’ here, Carlisle?”

  Jed ignored the question as he took several steps forward, pointing a gun at Homer. “I suggest you get your grimy hand off her now, or you’ll live the very short remainder of your life with a lot of regret.”

  Squatting for a brief second, Homer pulled a hunting knife from his boot, still holding Neely Kate’s arm. “I wanna know what you’re doin’ here. Are you lookin’ for it too?”

  What did Homer think Jed was looking for? Did he know about the necklace?

  “The only thing I’m lookin’ for is these two
girls, so I suggest you drop your hold on Neely Kate, or you’re as good as dead.”

  Homer pushed Neely Kate away as though her skin burned his hand. “Get the hell off my land.”

  Keeping his gaze on Homer, Jed said in an icy cold voice, “Rose, Neely Kate, walk behind me, get in the truck, and wait for me.”

  Neely Kate put a good ten feet between her and Homer before she pulled her revolver from the back of her jeans and pointed it at Homer. “Not yet.”

  My mouth dropped open. What in the world was she doing?

  Homer looked like he was liable to lunge at her. But she lowered the gun, and a shot rang out, kicking up the dirt between the man’s feet.

  He jumped back, shouting, “What the hell?”

  “I purposely aimed between your feet, Mr. Dyer. The next bullet is goin’ a lot higher, but it’ll still be between your legs, if you get my drift. I’m not sure you need those family jewels anymore.”

  “You’re crazy!” he shouted.

  She tilted her head and forced a grin. “If that’s the only way you can explain a woman gettin’ the upper hand on you, so be it, but if you ever dare to lay a hand on me again, I won’t hesitate to aim higher.”

  “Get the hell off my land!” he shouted.

  “Gladly.”

  I glanced over at Jed. The veins on his neck stood out, and he looked like he was about to strangle someone, only I had a feeling it wasn’t Homer Dyer.

  I hurried over to the truck and got in; only, Jed climbed in after me and got behind the wheel, shoving me to the middle. He lowered Neely Kate’s window before she got in.

  “Don’t take your eyes off of him,” Jed growled as he started the truck. “Keep aiming at him.”

  “I’m not an amateur,” she grumbled.

  He drove forward about ten feet, then backed up the truck, angling and driving partially in the tall weeds to get around Homer’s Jeep.

  “You’re a dead man the next time I see you, Carlisle!” Homer shouted, waving his knife. “And your girlfriends are on my list now too!”

  Neely Kate continued to lean out the window, pointing her gun at him, as Jed tore off down the lane—still driving backward—bouncing all three of us around the cab since we hadn’t had time to buckle up. Soon the house and Homer were out of sight. Jed backed up off the side of the road, quickly turned around, and raced for the stop sign.