Aunt Maggie butted in between us. "Who was Martha Hoffman sleeping with?"
"No one," I answered.
"Could have called that one."
"But she ghost-wrote Vanessa's book and was being screwed out of the deal by her."
"Oh my."
"We got most of that information during routine questioning already, darlin'."
"Did you know Oscar Larry hated Vanessa because she beat him out for a job?" I said.
"That's a new one."
"He wanted to write a column for Rocky and lost out to Vanessa. He actually came to Pecan Bayou to find me. He wanted me to go to Rocky and tell him how wonderful his presentation was. When I refused, he was not too happy with me."
"Now that concerns me, because if he is the murderer, what's to stop him from hitting you in the head with a candlestick?"
We heard a roar come up from the other room.
"Sounds like the natives are getting restless out there."
"Dad, who do you think did it?"
"Can't say Betsy, can't say," my dad said as he stepped back, arms folded, surveying the well-grilled cheesy dogs.
"Because you know and don't want to tell me or because you don't know and don't want me to think less of your detective skills."
"I guess you'll have to find out on your own." His crooked smile told me he was finished revealing investigative tidbits.
Aunt Maggie put her hands on her hips and took a breath. "It all looks great. Pattie did a great job with Danny's cake. I could have never made a cake like that in all my days."
"Sure you could," I said. "Me, not so much, but you can do anything, Aunt Maggie." Maggie reached over and covered my hand with hers. "So can you, baby girl. So can you."
The evening was wonderful with cake, ice cream, cheesy dogs and a boisterous, if not ear-splitting, singalong with those kooky kids from "High School Hijinks." Some days, life is just too good.
*****
The next morning as I was driving to the Pecan Bayou Gazette, "The Eyes Of Texas Are Upon You" rang on my cell phone. I juggled to get it out of my purse.
"Betsy, I'm glad I got you on the phone. We've had some news about Barry."
I took a deep breath. Here it was, the thing I had been waiting on for more than seven years. From the tone in my father's voice, it didn't sound like this was going to be good news.
"What about him?"
"Okay, now don't get too excited. Promise me that."
"Yes, Dad. I am calm and collected. What about Barry?"
"The police talked to him down in El Paso. They took his prints, and they matched up with our Barry."
I felt a crunching inside of me. I knew it was the same feeling people described when someone they loved very much died. I had that feeling, but it was because the life I loved very much would now and forever be changed. Barry was alive, and I really didn't want him to be. Everything was so much more comfortable when he was this phantom husband who left and would never return. What would this do to Zach? If he found out, he would instantly want to meet him. He would put him on a pedestal, seeing him as the dad he had always envisioned him to be. Zach was just a child, and there was no way he could understand what a snake his own father was. The pain in my chest was quickly moving to my head.
"Betsy? Betsy, are you there?"
"Yes, Dad. I'm here. You're sure? You're absolutely sure it's Barry?"
"Fingerprints don't lie. They are questioning him on some possible fraud involvement down there, but as a favor to me, they convinced him they might be a little more lenient if he settled the mess he left up here with you. George has gone to get him."
Barry was coming back to Pecan Bayou – and with a police escort, no less. There was no getting out of this now.
"When will he be here?"
"They ought to have him here by Wednesday. If nothing else, there's the matter of back child support and making sure the two of you are good and divorced before he moves onto his next victim. It's time he closes the book on the two of you properly."
"Just another hazard of falling in love," I said. Had Barry been living under an alias? I knew whoever he was marrying was probably pretty. Barry liked pretty women, and he liked to be seen with them. He had always envisioned us as part of the country club set. Me, a cop's daughter? What was even funnier was that the country club set of Pecan Bayou was not exactly what I would call the elite. It was just the people in our town who liked to play golf and who could take the heat doing it.
"There's just one more thing, Betsy, and this is going to be tough to hear."
I knew this was one of those times when I would want my phone to cut out before he could finish the sentence. Darn these modern cell phones. I could hear him now.
"Okay. Tell me," I said.
"I spoke to Barry on the phone."
"I'm surprised he would even talk to you, Dad."
"I was too. The first thing he asked me was if Zach turned out like Danny."
That jerk. Barry had been terrified after a test came back indicating there was a possibility of Down Syndrome. He was never comfortable around Danny and was just sure we would also have a son like him. I always knew that the test was the reason that Barry split. He could handle the pressure of committing a crime, but he sure couldn't handle the idea of having a son who was less than perfect. On top of that, the fact that he might have a wife who would produce a child like that? Time to leave.
"What did you tell him?"
"I told him Zach was perfect."
I started to feel the crunching inside me again. Perfect? The one word I would have never used. Barry didn't need to know that the son he so feared was one of the most beautiful human beings God ever put on this earth. I knew now that Barry would want Zach.
"You told him he was perfect? Dad, how could you?"
"He is perfect. Barry needs to know what a great person he dumped and ran away from. He needs to feel guilt for what he did to you and Zach. I don't think he ever looked back. It's time he sees all he gave up."
"Don't you see Dad?" I said. "Now he's going to want Zach. He's a greedy man, and the idea of guilt just doesn't register with his brain. Why else would he be able to cheat people? He wants things he never had to work for, and our Zach has just fallen into that category. I was the one who fed him, changed his diaper, stayed up all night with him when he was sick. I was the one who did all the dirty work of parenting. Now he's going to show up here and try to take him. He's going to want custody of Zach." My voice broke as the tears came rushing in.
"I know, darlin'. But why would you think he would ever get custody? What judge in his right mind would give over custody to a father that once abandoned his son?"
"You never know, Dad, you never know. What if Barry decides to give his life to God or something? What if he starts up a soup kitchen or donates his kidney? He's a con man, and you would be foolish if you thought he wouldn't think of custody of Zach as his ultimate con."
"Okay, okay. Just settle down, Betsy. We're a family, and we'll deal with this together. Nobody is going to take Zach. Especially not this two-bit hustler."
I caught my breath. "Promise?"
"I promise."
CHAPTER TWENTY
I went into the Pecan Bayou Gazette to turn in my column on dryer sheets. I had brought in Vanessa's nutrition magazines, thinking to take them down to Pattie after I finished at the Gazette.
"Putting in some new recipes? The readers love recipes," Rocky said as he walked by.
"No, these were Vanessa's. Peter gave them to me. I thought maybe Pattie would like them."
"Good idea. Say, would you like to do me a little favor and clean up the rest of Vanessa's stuff over there? Peter told me to do what I wanted with it, and if you hadn't noticed, I'm a little short-handed around here right now."
"Sure," I answered. I walked to the desk she had used whenever she had written her column there. I like writing my columns at home and emailing them in, but I guess Vanessa had wanted to be near P
eter. Now whether that was to be close to him or to keep an eye on him, I would never be sure. She had a red plastic file box where she was keeping her research and columns. I looked through her alphabetical index to find articles on designers and invitations to runway shows. She also had a small black leather book that turned out to be a calendar. I paged to the dates before her murder. She wrote most of her things in a jagged form of penmanship, but I could make out most of it.
The week before the first library night, she had two appointments with D (Damien) and one appointment with Xavier in Houston. Was she having two affairs after hopping all over her husband for having one? The fact that she spelled out Xavier's name while only using an initial for Damien told me that she didn't care if someone saw his name on her calendar. Maybe Xavier was a designer. That certainly sounded like the name for one.
"Find anything of use to you?" I jumped as I realized Rocky was now standing behind me.
"I was just looking at her appointments the week before she was murdered. Do you know anyone named Xavier?"
Rocky stroked his chin and thought for a moment. "Nah, when she was in here she was always on the phone to somebody or another. It could be any of those people. She just called them 'sweetie' all the time. What a phony that woman was."
More than you know, I thought. I searched further in her box to see if there was a phone book inside, but feeling around the bottom I couldn't find anything. I knew asking Peter for her cell phone would be a little on the nosy side. Besides, my father probably already had it.
I pulled out my own phone, intending to call him about it, when it rang in my hand. The caller ID read Buzz Aldrin Elementary School. It was only 10 a.m., so this couldn't be good.
"Mrs. Livingston? This is the nurse at Buzz Aldrin. I'm calling because your Zachary is here in the nurse's office. He has an upset tummy and needs you to come and pick him up." The nurse spoke to me as if I were four years old and was merging over into baby talk.
"I'll get my things and be right over."
"Thank you, Mrs. Livingston. Zachary threw up in his classroom trashcan while reading the part of the second Billy Goat Gruff. We just think he was excited about getting to stand up front with the others."
"I'm on the way."
I picked up Zach at school and hurried him home, just in case he needed to throw up again in the car. With the major dent in it from the tree, I guess a little throw-up wouldn't do much more harm.
"Is the stomach flu going around at school? Have other kids been sick?"
"No, not all. I must be the first one," Zach answered.
"Did anybody at the party yesterday complain about being sick?"
"No. Not until after we ate, anyway."
"After we ate?"
"Sure, after we ate those cheesy dogs. Those were really good, Mom. Can we eat those every week?"
I remembered Aunt Maggie had sent a few cheesy dogs home with us last night. They were a little heavy on my stomach, but she thought maybe Zach could eat them.
"Wait, Zach, how many cheesy dogs did you eat last night?"
"Just one."
"Oh, okay. I thought maybe you ate too many and they made you sick. That cheese inside can make them a little heavy."
"I know, I know. This morning I grabbed a couple to eat while you were in the shower."
"You ate two cheesy dogs before you went to school? I thought you had a bowl of oatmeal."
"We were out, so I decided to take care of myself. Did I do a good job?" He looked at me, seeking reassurance for his grown-up can-do attitude.
"You did a great job." I sighed. Self-reliance had its price, it seemed. "Just, no more cheesy dogs."
"Okay." He hugged me. "Now can I have a snack? I'm hungry after throwing up in the trash can."
"You bet." When we got to the house I prepared him some toast. That would be light on his stomach until he had the cheesy dogs out of his system. I wondered how Danny was faring. You are what you eat, they say. I wouldn't want to be a cheesy dog. I took Zach the toast and then answered my ringing phone in the kitchen.
"Is Zach okay?" asked Rocky Whitson, calling from the Gazette.
"Yes, you don't need to stop the presses. He just had an overdose of cheesy dogs."
Rocky laughed. "Those things are nasty, poor little fella. Listen, I'm sending my new sportswriter over for some danish from PattieCake's. I'll go ahead and send over those magazines?"
"Oh, that would be nice, if he doesn't mind."
"He doesn't mind."
"Sounds like you have your hands full."
"I'm starting all over again. I never realized how much Peter did around here covering all the Little League, school league, bowling league ... What is in Andersonville anyway?"
"Don't you mean who?"
"Oh. You think I would have sniffed that one out. Ah well, time to share my wisdom with the kid."
That kid was lucky.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
After speaking with Rocky I sat down at the kitchen table with a legal pad, writing down everything I had learned so far about Vanessa Markham. She was on the outs with her husband, was cheating her ghost writer, was having an affair with Damien Perez, had angered Oscar Larry, was Edith Martin's other woman and had sabotaged Pattie's cupcake exhibit. She had pretty well pissed off the entire town at the same time. In the corner I doodled the name Xavier. With her penchant for exotic lovers, could she possibly be involved with another man? It was too exhausting just to think about. I dialed my dad's number.
"Dad, is there anybody named Xavier in Vanessa Markham's cell phone records?"
"Uh, let me look. She was quite a talker, that one." I heard paper rattling as my dad rolled through the names, "Damien, Peter, um ... here's an Xavier in Houston. Xavier Frank? Is that who you're lookin' for?"
"Yes, did you call him? Do you know who he is?"
"Um, yes we did call that number. Xavier Frank is a nutritionist."
"Really?" That went along with all the cookbooks and magazine articles, but it seemed a little in the extreme. Was she that obsessed with nutrition? Maybe she was getting ready to write a book about food. It had to be every fashion model's job to be in perfect physical shape. Maybe she was going to write a book to help the skinnies stay that way. Was she trying to create a sugar-free version of Pattie's cupcakes?
"Would you mind if I called him and asked him a few questions?"
"Betsy, I don't know if you noticed, but this is a police investigation. I just can't go handing out numbers to you willy-nilly."
"I know, dad, I know, but somehow I get this feeling that all of this is tying back to what she was doing days before her death, and that had something to do with this Xavier guy. Please?"
"Alright, Xavier Frank works for All Health Nutrition Centers in Houston. That's all I'll tell you."
"That's all I need."
"I know I don't need to tell you to not get yourself in trouble again, right?"
"Right."
"One more thing, Betsy. Barry arrives at the police station at around four tomorrow. I wasn't sure if you wanted to see him or not."
Overdue for Murder (Pecan Bayou) Page 13