Chapter 2
Phyllis dipped a spoon into the little bowl of cobbler, tasted the peach filling with its flaky crust, and made a face. So much for using jalapenos. That was truly awful. With a sigh, she said, “Those who fail to learn from the past are doomed to repeat it.”
Mattie let out a laugh and said, “Or at least if they failed, they had to repeat your class, isn’t that what you mean?” “It’s a good thing you weren’t an English teacher, dear,” Eve put in as she passed breezily through the kitchen of the big old house the three retired teachers shared, along with Carolyn Wilbarger. “Really, that’s a terrible cliche, and I’m not sure but what you’ve misquoted it.”
From the door between the, kitchen and the breezeway that led to the garage, Carolyn said, “If Phyllis really wanted to learn from the past, she’d stop entering cooking contests against me. She ought to know by now that she’s not going to win.”
Carolyn had a grocery sack in her arms as she walked in. She always insisted on paper, not plastic, commenting loudly that paper was so much better for the environment. That was true, of course, Phyllis thought, but the plastic bags were easier to carry, and besides, you could reuse them as garbage bags. She had read somewhere, too, that if you cut the plastic bags into narrow strips, you could actually crochet with them and use them to make extremely strong, flexible tote bags. She intended to give that a try sometime … but not until after the peach festival.
“I’m right here, Carolyn” she said. “Don’t talk about me as if I’m not present.”
Carolyn sniffed as she set the grocery sack on the counter. No doubt the sack was just full of ingredients for whatever recipe she was going to make this year. “Well, I didn’t mean any offense. I just meant that I hate to see you trying so hard when there’s really no point in it.”
I am a grown woman, Phyllis told herself. Long past a grown woman, as a matter of fact. I will not walk over there and kick her in the shin. No matter how much I want to right now.
“I mean, maybe you should just take it easy this year and enjoy the peach festival,” Carolyn went on, “instead of spending hours in the kitchen trying to come up with something new.”
“I see,” Phyllis said coolly. “In other words, everyone should drop out of the contest and just let you win.”
“Of course not! I was just saying-‘
“We all know what you were saying, dear” Eve put in, smiling and pleasant as always, no matter what sort of dig she was about to get in. “You just don’t like competition. I can understand that. When I’m interested in a gentleman, say, I don’t like competition, either.” She touched her brown hair and added, “Not that there’s any real competition out there.”
That was just like Eve, relating every discussion to romance, no matter what it was really about.
“Back during the war there weren’t many men around,” Mattie said. “They’d all gone off to fight. So if there was an eligible man who was the least bit respectable, why, I’ll swan, he just about had the pick of any girl he wanted. I remember when I went to work out at the plant…”
Phyllis wondered what else she could use to provide the spice in her spicy peach cobbler recipe. She still liked the idea and thought it had promise, but jalapeno was out.
“… Donnie Boatwright” Mattie was saying. “Of course, Donnie and I stopped dating not long after that.”
“Did he go off to the war?” Eve asked.
“No, Donnie was 4-F. Had a bad knee. Didn’t stop him from dancing, though. I remember he took me to Casino Beach one night—?’ Mattie stopped short and gave a little shake of her head. “What was I talking about? Oh, shoot, it doesn’t matter. Phyllis, what are you making for the contest this year?”
Phyllis frowned, for a couple of reasons. She didn’t want to divulge any secrets while Carolyn was standing right there, no doubt listening like a hawk. Did hawks listen? No, hawks watched like, well, hawks. She was listening, anyway, probably hoping to gain a little advantage. For another thing, Phyllis didn’t like the way Mattie had suddenly lost her train of thought. It was true that Phyllis herself was of an age when she was more easily distracted, but Mattie was well over eighty, and it had been happening more and more often lately.
Phyllis felt a little cold inside when she thought that the day might come when she couldn’t remember the things she wanted to. When she couldn’t remember her late husband, Kenny, and all the wonderful times they’d had. Might not even be able to remember her own son, Mike …
Speak of the devil (not that Mike was the least bit devilish-he was actually a very sweet boy and always had been) the screen door at the front of the house creaked open, and Mike’s voice called, “Mom? You home?”
Quickly, Phyllis dumped the bowl of jalapeno peach cobbler in the garbage disposal and hit the switch. She hated being suspicious and distrustful, but she didn’t want Carolyn sneaking a bite to get an idea what she was up to in her preparations for the contest. Then Phyllis picked up a dishcloth, wiped her hands, and went down the hall to the living room, where Mike stood just inside the door waiting for her, his cream-colored Stetson in his hand.
He put a stern frown on his face as he said, “Mom, what have I told you about at least keeping the screen door hooked?”
“Yes, I know,” she said, not liking the fact that he was talking to her like she was the child and he was the parent. But at least he was doing it out of concern for her, and out of professional habit, she supposed, since he was a deputy sheriff and dealt with crime and lawbreakers all the time. She looked past him, through the screen door, and saw the Parker County Sheriff’s Department cruiser parked at the curb in’ front of the house, in the shade of the massive oak and hickory and pecan trees that lined the street.
Eve followed Phyllis into the. livingroom and said, “Hello, Michael! My, don’t you look handsome in your uniform, dear.”
“Thank you, Miz Turner,” Mike said politely. Phyllis and Kenny had raised him to be respectful. Mattie and Carolyn came into the room, and he gave them all a general nod. “Good morning, ladies.”
Phyllis went over to him and hugged him. It had been several days since she’d seen him. His work kept him busy, and so did his pretty young wife and their baby. “How are Sarah and Bobby?”
“They’re fine, Mom.” He couldn’t help but smile as he went on, “Sarah says Bobby’s getting ready to take his first step. Any day now, more than likely. I sure hope I’m there to see it when it happens.”
“So do I,” Phyllis said. “Do you want to sit down? Did you just come by for a visit? I’ll get you a glass of iced tea.” “Uh, no, that’s fine, Mom, thanks anyway. I’m afraid I’m here on official business.”
“Doesn’t that sound exciting?” Eve said. “What sort of official business could the sheriff’s department possibly have with a bunch of retired schoolteachers?”
“Well, I need to talk to my mother, actually, but the rest of you ladies are welcome to stay. Nothing secret about any of it.”
“Get to the point, Mike,” Phyllis prodded gently. “It’s about Newt Bishop.”
Phyllis stiffened. Several days had passed since that terrible morning in the Bishop barn, but what she had seen there still haunted her. She had seen death before—she had buried a much-loved husband, and she had seen illness claim many friends and relatives-but until that morning she had never stared right into the face of violent, unexpected death. She hadn’t liked Newt Bishop, had in fact barely been able to tolerate the man,. but still she would never have wished such an end on him.
“The, uh, official cause of death,” Mike went on, “is being listed as unknown.”
Carolyn snorted. “That’s crazy,” she said. “That old car of his slipped off the jack while he was working on it and fell on him. Crushed him like a bug.” Phyllis tried not to wince. Carolyn could be plain-spoken
to a fault sometimes. In this case, however, she was pretty much right.
Mike fiddled with the hat in his hands. When he did that, he looked just li
ke a little boy again, Phyllis thought. But he wasn’t a little boy, he was a grown man, and he had a grown man’s serious expression on his face as he said, “Well, it’s true that the car could’ve just slipped off that old bumper jack, and Mr. Bishop didn’t have it blocked up or anything. But somebody could’ve flipped the lever on that jack, too, and started it down.”
“Why in the world would anybody want to do that, while Newt Bishop was under the car?” Phyllis asked, and then she lifted a hand to her mouth and said softly, “Oh, my goodness,’ as one possible answer occurred to her.
Mike nodded solemnly. “Mat’s right, Mom. The sheriff thinks that somebody might’ve meant for him to get caught under there.”
“Nonsense’” Carolyn said. “As big as he was, such a thing would be bound to…” She stopped and frowned. “To kill him,” Eve finished. “That would make it murder, wouldn’t it, dear?” She didn’t sound particularly upset by the prospect, but it took a lot to upset Eve.
“You ladies were the only ones out in the orchard that day,” Mike went on. “Did any of you see anybody hanging around the barn while Mr. Bishop was in there working, on his car?”
Phyllis didn’t have to ponder the question. The events of that morning were still clear in her mind. “A man in a pickup drove up and talked to Newt for a few minutes,” she said.
She heard an eager tone in Mike’s voice as he asked, “Do you know who he was?”
Phyllis was almost sorry she had to shake her head and say, “I have no idea. I didn’t see him that well. It’s quite a distance from the barn down to where we were in the orchard.”
“And Eve and I were even farther away,” Carolyn put in. “I didn’t even see this pickup Phyllis is talking about.”
“It was there’” Phyllis said, thinking that it sounded as if Carolyn were doubting her eyesight.
“What kind of pickup was it?” Mike asked. “I don’t know,” Phyllis had to say.
“That was before Mr. Bishop went into the barn?” “That’s right!” Something occurred to Phyllis, and she added, “It looked like the man was arguing with Newt. He was waving his arms around like he was worked up about something.”
Mike frowned. “You didn’t mention anything about this when you talked to the deputies who first came out there to the farm, Mom.”
“Well, why in the world would I?” she demanded. “I thought that old car had just slipped off the jack and fallen on him. It was an accident, for all I knew.”
Mike turned his hat over in his hands as he thought.
“Yeah, that makes sense, I guess. Can you describe the man, and the vehicle he was driving?”
Phyllis took a deep breath. “The pickup was dark blue. It wasn’t an old, old one, but other than that I couldn’t say. Since the man who came up in it was standing right next to Newt, I could tell that he was taller and thinner, and I got the impression he was younger, too, but I couldn’t say that for sure. The man in the car.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t say. I really didn’t pay much attention to him. The car was dark. Gray, maybe brown. Not big, but not small, either. That’s all I know about it.’
“Wait a minute.” Mike said. “What car?”
Phyllis frowned. “I didn’t say anything about that? Later, after Newt had gone into the barn, several cars came and went. People were buying peaches from him, I’m sure. But I noticed that the last one left in a big hurry. That’s the one I was talking about. I just recalled it now, while I was talking about what happened earlier.”
“You don’t remember any part of the license numbers on any of the vehicles?”
“I didn’t see the license numbers. I was too far away, remember?”
“Yeah, that’s right. But at least that’s more than we knew before.” Mike looked at Mattie, Carolyn, and Eve. “Did any of you other ladies see anything . . ?”
“Not me,” Mattie said. “Your mama had a better view than I did, since she was up on the ladder and I was down on the ground.”
“But you went up to the house, Mattie,” Phyllis recalled. “Were you already back by the time the man in the car came up.?”
“Must’ve been, because I sure don’t remember seeing him.”
Mike asked, “Why did you go to the house, Miz Harris?” Mattie sniffed and said, “That’s a mighty delicate question, young man.”
“Oh,” Mike said quickly, blushing. “I’m sorry.” But he got a dogged look on his face as he went on, “You went into the house itself, then?”
“That’s right. Newt knew me-knew all four of us, for that matter. When folks came to pick peaches in his orchard, he didn’t mind them using the, ah, facilities.”
“But you didn’t see anybody else?’ No, sir, I didn’t.”
Phyllis said, “Mike, do you think the man in the car … you think he could have … ?”
“It’s possible;’ he said.”You said he wasn’t there long, but it wouldn’t have taken but a few seconds to start that jack lowering. I tested it myself. Knock the lever down and give the jack handle a good push, and it would come down quick on its own after that. Mr. Bishop really should have blocked up that car before he ever got under it.”
“How in the world will you go about finding the killer?” Carolyn asked.
“Start looking to see who had a grudge against Mr. Bishop, I guess. I haven’t been involved in all that many murder investigations, but they’re usually pretty simple. You find out who was mad at the victim, and chances are they did it.”
“But isn’t it still possible that it could have been an accident?” Phyllis asked. “The man in the car could have gone into the barn, seen Newt under the car, and gone for help.”
“We didn’t get any 911 calls until the one from you, Mom. Still, you’re right, it could have been an accident, just like it looked. Nobody’s ruling that out. We just want to make sure it wasn’t deliberate.”
“Of course,” Phyllis murmured.
“Well, I’d better be going. I’ll write up everything y’all told me and turn it over to the investigating officers. The sheriff just sent me over here because he didn’t want you any more upset than necessary, Mom.”
“That was nice of him.” Phyllis hugged Mike again, and then frowned. “You be careful. I don’t like the idea of you poking into a murder. If somebody deliberately killed Newt Bishop, they might try to hurt you next.”
“I don’t think so,” Mike said with a smile. “Chances are, if it was deliberate, the killer’s so shook up and scared, he won’t even think about trying to hurt anybody else. He’ll just lie as low as possible.”
“Well, I hope so…. I mean, I hope you catch him” Mike said good-bye to the other three women, hugged his mother again, and then left. Phyllis stood at the screen door and watched him drive away in the cruiser. The idea that her little boy was mixed up with killers and criminals and suchlike disturbed her. It always had, ever since Mike had decided he wanted to go into law enforcement. Phyllis and Kenny had always assumed that he would grow up to be a teacher or a coach or even a principal. Children had to go their own way, though. You couldn’t force them into anything, not if you expected them to be happy about it.
“A murder,” Eve said. “What do you know about that?” Phyllis didn’t say anything. She stood at the screen, looking down the street, but Mike had already turned a corner and was gone.
Chapter 3
The central air-conditioning unit hummed quietly and efficiently, but on a summer afternoon even it was hard put to keep up with the heat coming out of the kitchen. Phyllis had another small cobbler in the oven.
When this big old house had first been built more than eighty, years earlier, there had been no air-conditioning; it was cooled in the summer by ceiling fans. Phyllis and Kenny had bought it in the sixties and had installed a big swamp cooler on both the first and second floors. By the late seventies, the swamp coolers had been replaced by several window air conditioners, and during the nineties they’d had a central heating and air-conditioning unit put in.
Sometimes Phyllis thought that too much technology might not be a good thing. She still wasn’t too sure about the Internet, although the computer in the den was hooked up to it. But as far as she was concerned, everybody in Texas owed a huge debt to the man who had invented air-conditioning, as well as everybody who had come up with every improvement in it since then.
After Kenny passed away, Phyllis had come very close to selling the old house, thinking that not only was it too big for her to take care of properly, but also that she could never be happy in a place that held so many reminders of her late husband. She had come to realize, though, that the house also held even more happy memories. She didn’t think Kenny would have wanted her to leave if she didn’t have to. There was plenty of room for boarders. There were two bedrooms downstairs, along with the living room, kitchen, and den, and three more bedrooms upstairs. When she and Kenny bought the place, they intended to fill all of those bedrooms with children. Mike had been the only one to come along though. So Phyllis had a sewing room and Kenny had a room for his trains, and unlike some families they had always had plenty of storage space….
A Peach of a Murder Page 2