Officer K located the empty conference room and led us inside, flipping on lights and pulling out chairs for us all. That surprised me, I think. For some reason, I always thought that police officers didn’t turn their backs on others. Or maybe that was only on police shows. Anyway, we all took a seat and she sat looking at us expectantly, waiting to hear what we had to say.
I could see that, once again, I would need to take the lead on this one, so I cleared my throat, looked straight at Officer Kingsley, and launched into the theories we had defined and discussed the night before. Once I began speaking, I realized why the others were hesitant to open their mouths: I sounded, well, a little off-balance.
‘We were talking,’ I indicated Miss Bea, Miss Lucinda and Leslie, ‘and may have come up with some possible suspects for you.’ I waited for Officer Kingsley to reply, perhaps with an enthusiastic, ‘Oh, I knew you could do it!’ or something to that effect.
The look she gave me, though, was anything but encouraging. It was then I realized most detectives don’t like being told that someone else has detected for them, especially if it is a lay person such as me and my fellow troupers. ‘Oh?’ That one word, accompanied with an eyebrow lift, spoke volumes. Thankfully, the other theorists in the room decided to join in.
Miss Bea gave me a quick glance that said ‘Be quiet for a minute’, and I telegraphed one back that said, ‘No prob … you go for it.’ She turned toward Officer Kingsley and began laying out our ideas, beginning with who we suspected and why we had, or had not, eliminated them. Officer K, to her credit, listened politely. That is, until we got to Julian Sweet.
‘I could not find him anywhere, and when the gals went to collect Andy from the men’s dressing room, the only others there were Bert and Skinny Joe, Andy’s uncle.’
Miss Bea turned to Miss Lucinda, and she took up the story.
‘And I didn’t see him when I went out to the parking lot to get something that Derek had left behind in the station wagon,’ Miss Lucinda added, nodding for emphasis. This movement sent her hair sliding, and a hunk of it hung low over one eyebrow, giving her a lop-sided look.
‘Wait.’ Officer Kingsley’s hands lifted ‘halt mode’ as if directing traffic. ‘Are you ladies saying that because you didn’t see him there, you think he did it?’ Her face was a blend of incredulity and interest. Something had piqued her curiosity.
‘Well, yes, that’s exactly what we’re saying,’ Miss Lucinda replied, looking at the rest of us to support her answer. We all vigorously nodded our heads like a herd of bobblehead dolls, even the boys. They had been filled in on our ideas on the way to the station.
‘I see,’ Officer K said slowly, and I think that she really did see what we were trying to get at because she pulled a notebook from her pocket and uncapped the pen attached to it. ‘OK. Begin at the beginning. Tell me exactly why you suspect Julian Sweet. And don’t leave out anything, even if you think it’s insignificant.’
This was getting exciting, no doubt about it. I had never in my life had so many unique experiences, and I had to lay the credit at Neva’s feet. Without her obsession with magazine subscriptions, I would still be back in Piney Woods, having to babysit the huge collection of Anderson nieces and nephews, and going stark raving mad.
Maybe that’s what happened to Crazy Great-Aunt Opal. The Anderson clan has always had a ton of kids running around.
We unanimously allowed Miss Lucinda to take the lead on this, since she was the one whose brain came up with it to begin with. Her rendition went something like this:
‘I had to go back out to the car because something we needed for the costumes had been left behind. Everyone was busy, so I just went without telling anyone. I’d already seen Andy and Bert arrive earlier, and overheard them saying that Julian had pulled in right behind them. And that Skinny Joe pranced by me as well, so I knew that all the menfolk were accounted for. When you’re putting on a show,’– here Miss Bea managed to control an eye roll – ‘you can’t emphasize enough that timing is everything, and includes showing up when you’re told to.’
‘Anyway, I knew Josie was the only one not there yet, and thought I’d see if she was in her car, gabbing on the phone or to Julian, who still hadn’t come inside. I walked over to the car, dropped my keys, and that’s when …’
Her voice faltered a bit, but who could blame the woman. She swallowed and continued.
‘When I bent down to get the keys, I saw what I thought were feet on the other side of the car, only they were at an odd angle, not standing but instead, well, lying there and I …’ she swallowed again ‘… and I just knew that it was Josie. I don’t know how I knew but I did.’ Miss Lucinda completed her monologue and Officer Kingsley looked up for the notebook in which she had been furiously writing.
‘Is there anything else, anything that might have something to do with this case? Did anyone see Josie when she arrived? Does anyone remember speaking to her? And can anyone beside Andy and Bert,’ – she checked her notes – ‘claim to have noticed Julian during this time?’ Officer K looked around the table at each of us, waiting for more information. Finally Derek spoke up.
‘Er, I think that I saw Julian walking in the direction of the parking lot, maybe around the time that Andy and Bert were coming in the door. I mean, I can’t be sure, but I saw him later and he had on a dark blue sweatshirt and jeans, and the person I saw had those on as well. Of course, it was from a distance …’ Derek’s voice petered out and he looked uncertainly from Officer Kingsley to Miss Lucinda.
‘Wait,’ I said suddenly. ‘Didn’t Andy have on the same thing? Or something pretty close?’
Derek thought for a moment, tilting his head in a good imitation of Miss Bea.
‘Maybe,’ he replied slowly.
‘Come to think of it,’ Leslie spoke up. ‘didn’t you have jeans and a sweatshirt yesterday as well, Jo?’
Six sets of eyes swiveled in my direction sudden suspicion causing at least a couple pairs to narrow slightly.
‘Oh, come on, you guys,’ I protested. ‘Give me some credit here. Why would I want to do way with Josie? I didn’t even know her before our trip to Manchester. Wouldn’t it be more logical that someone who actually knew her did this? Or perhaps a random stranger? That makes more sense that saying I did it.’ I crossed my arms across my chest, practically huffing and puffing in my indignation.
‘Now, now, dear,’ soothed Miss Bea. ‘Leslie didn’t say that you did anything. She was just pointing out that more than one person was dressed in the same fashion. Isn’t that right, Leslie?’ She turned toward Leslie for confirmation, whose face by this time was scarlet with embarrassment.
‘Yes, that’s what I meant, Miss Bea. And sorry, Jo. I wasn’t trying to say that you killed Josie. That wasn’t worded very well.’ She gave me a hesitant smile.
I contemplated keeping the annoyance on my face, for a few minutes at least, but that’s really not my style. I returned Leslie’s smile and she relaxed visibly, settling back into her chair. It would take more than mere semantics to break us apart, I thought gratefully. Leslie was turning out to be a true friend.
‘OK, folks. I think I’ve got enough to go on for now. But if any of you can think of something else, anything, give me a call.’ Officer Kingsley stood to her feet and the rest of us did likewise. ‘Here’s my card. My cell number is there, as well as the office number. And you can text if you’d prefer.’ She handed her cards around, and I tucked mine into my front jeans pocket.
It was close to lunchtime, and I proposed to Miss Bea and Miss Lucinda that we go eat. ‘But let’s go to Skinny Joe’s,’ I suggested. ‘That’ll give us some time to observe him in his native clime, so to speak. And maybe he’ll talk enough to give something away.’
‘If indeed he knows anything, Jo,’ responded Miss Lucinda. ‘But I think you have an excellent idea. Shall we, Beatrice?’ She turned to her new best friend (I still couldn’t get used to that) for confirmation.
‘By all means,�
� said Miss Bea. ‘I’m in the mood for a steak, and I know that the boys would probably appreciate a little cold refreshment with their food.’
The ‘boys’ nodded in eager agreement, and I sighed. I could handle Derek, I thought, if he got a bit frisky, but I was doubtful that anyone other than Leslie could contain the giant that was LJ. Well, I’d make sure that they had a limit and stuck to it.
With Derek at the wheel – which would certainly not be the case on the way back, I decided firmly – we managed to find our way from the Manchester Police Department to Skinny Joe’s Steakhouse and Brewery, only making two wrong turns in the process. Unfortunately, my penchant for carsickness decided to rear its ugly head, and I wasn’t too sure about eating anything.
We finally arrived at our destination, Derek pulling the station wagon into a parking space marked ‘Take Outs Only’. When I pointed this out to him, still unhappy at his driving, he only shrugged.
‘I can’t see what the problem is, Jo. It’s not like anyone else is going to park there.’
‘That’s because it’s a spot marked for those who are coming to pick up their order,’ I said patiently. I swear – men are such boys at times, you know what I mean?
The cool mountain air revived my poor stomach, and I discovered that, yes indeed, I was hungry. And I was primed for eavesdropping as well.
Chapter Seventeen
It’s amazing how food and drink combine to create an atmosphere of trust, even among those whose trustworthiness is questionable. Skinny Joe’s restaurant, and Skinny Joe himself, had perfected the ambience of relaxation, which was welcome after the morning’s escapade. Needless to say, I unbent enough to gossip happily alongside my fellow actors, and we found ourselves laughing at nonsense. Of course, a round of beer might have been a factor in our merriment, but who cared? We were having a good time.
I’m not sure when I noticed the occupants of the table nearest the kitchen, but suddenly they stood out in sharp relief against the swinging door. Andy and Bert were hunkered over large plates of food and even larger glasses of beer, and I could feel the heated glares from across the room. Apparently they’d seen us before I’d seen them, giving them more time to work up a bad attitude. When Skinny Joe made an appearance at their table, stained apron and all, he too craned his head around to glower in our direction.
You know how they say you should always be pleasant to the cook and wait staff at an eatery to protect your food order from being, shall we say, tampered with? That went double for Skinny Joe’s place, he being both cook and waiter. Of course, the young gal that had seated us, taken our orders, and served us was not to be suspected of sabotage, but I didn’t feel too trustful of Joe. I mentally vowed to not ask for anything else, not even water. You never knew.
I nudged Miss Lucinda’s arm as inconspicuously as I could, but no such luck. The woman, bless her awkward heart, turned to me and said loudly enough for the occupants of the back table to hear, ‘What’re you poking my arm for, Jo?’
I was caught in the act and only managed to extract myself by asking for the basket of bread to be passed my way, even though I was full by that time. Leslie, though, gave me a calculating stare, which I returned with one of my own. As if by telepathy, she caught my telegraphed message with her mind and slowly, casually, turned her head to glance over her shoulder. Just as carefully, she turned back toward me and with a slight lifting of her eyebrows let me know that she had spotted Andy and Bert.
After a minute or two had passed, she said, ‘I need to run to the ladies’ room. You want to go, too, Jo?’ Of course I did.
The boys hooted, teasing us about having to travel in packs to use the bathroom.
‘What is it with you girls?’ asked Derek. ‘You never see me asking LJ or anyone else to go to the facilities with me!’
‘That’s because no one could survive a trip to the bathroom with you, Derek,’ I suggested sweetly, causing the rest of the group to burst out laughing. He wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue at me, no pretty sight with the bits of food stuck there. Such a boy, I thought, sticking out my tongue right back at him.
I didn’t have seven older brothers without learning the fine art of communicating with that particular species.
Leslie and I snaked our way among the tables and customers, heading for the restrooms which thankfully were located at the opposite side of the restaurant from the kitchen. I don’t think I could have casually walked past Andy, Joe, and Bert without being scorched by their eyes.
I waited until Leslie had bent down and checked underneath all three of the enclosed stalls for feet. One could never be too careful, especially when dining in enemy territory.
‘I thought,’ I began, ‘that we had eliminated those three clowns from the suspect list.’
Leslie nodded.
‘I did too, but you know what? With the way they’re acting, I think we should put them right back on it.’
I agreed with her. Those three, especially Andy, were acting a bit too odd not to be reconsidered. Of course, if being odd was a criterion for identifying a murder suspect, LJ and Miss Lucinda should both be on our list. But that was another matter altogether.
‘So what should we do?’ whispered Leslie. ‘Should we contact Officer Kingsley and tell her?’
‘Tell her what? That they’re a pack of weirdoes and need to be watched?’ I turned to face the mirror, pushing a strand of recalcitrant hair back behind my ear.
‘Maybe, if that’s what it takes to get the MPD to pay attention to them, sure, why not?’ Leslie shrugged her shoulders. ‘I think we should also see what else Andy and Bert are doing today. Keep tabs on them.’
‘OK. So when they leave, we do too?’ I probably looked as skeptical as I felt.
‘Yeah. I’m sure we can get the rest of the group to finish up and ‘just happen’ to leave at the same time.’ Leslie’s fingers made air quotes, and I nodded. We could do it.
If only Miss Bea’s station wagon didn’t stick out like an automotive sore thumb.
With that settled, we strolled back to the table – and gasped à deux. Andy and Bert were not there any longer, and from the collective look on the faces of my friends, their departure had not been a friendly one.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked of no one in particular, looking from face to face. ‘What did we miss?’
‘Oh, not much,’ replied Derek in his typical dry manner. ‘Just two knuckleheads walking past, giving us the finger and a piece of their minds.’
‘Well, they’d best be careful,’ I said bitingly. ‘They didn’t have much mind to begin with.’
I didn’t get the usual chuckles, which confirmed to me that this was, indeed, serious business. I turned to Leslie.
‘Should we reconsider the spying angle and maybe take this straight back to Officer Kingsley?’
‘That’s a strong possibility,’ she admitted. ‘I don’t like how this whole thing is going. It feels downright bad, if you get my drift.’
Oh, I got her drift, all right. And I completely agreed. Things were rapidly reversing in a downhill direction, and I didn’t want to be the one at the bottom of the heap.
Miss Bea spoke up softly, causing us to strain our ears to hear her. Of course, Skinny Joe was wiping down the table just across from ours, so she was right to be hushed.
‘If you all don’t mind, I need to go back to the trailer and rest. But if you’d like, you can keep the wagon and sleuth to your hearts’ content, provided you make it back by dinner time. Lucy?’ She looked enquiringly at Miss Lucinda, who hadn’t objected to the use of her nickname.
‘I’d probably better join you, Beatrice,’ she remarked. ‘A rest wouldn’t go amiss. And I agree – you kids need to be home by dinner.’
Her tone and words were so parental that I had to grin. Actually, it felt kind of good, nostalgic even, to be given a curfew. I nodded in agreement, and the others did as well. LJ looked a bit puzzled at Miss Lucinda’s words, but I saw Leslie tuck her small arm thro
ugh his massive one and he settled down. Derek met my eyes and smiled, so I knew he had gotten the same ‘mama’ vibe as I had felt.
We paid our bill and left the restaurant, eyes squinting a bit in the bright Colorado sunshine. Miss Bea started to hand the keys off to Derek, but a warning grunt from Miss Lucinda made her keep them and climb into the driver’s seat. I was relieved, not wanting a showdown with Derek, although he didn’t seem too intoxicated. And at least Miss Bea didn’t get as lost as Derek did. She drove with her eyes on the road; he fiddled with the radio and his hair.
The drive back to the KOA was silent, but it was a good kind of quiet. We four younger folks were going over the lists of suspects in our heads, adding and subtracting facts. The two elders, the Becklaw gals, were already heading toward that nap. Ah, I thought: the joys of growing older.
With the sisters-in-law safely tucked in for a nap, we left for town again, this time with Leslie at the wheel. She and I’d had about half a beer each, while the boys had consumed a few. I have to admit that she was a competent driver, and we arrived in Manchester safe and sound.
Leslie pulled into the parking lot behind the town’s library and cut the engine.
She turned in the seat and smiled at the three of us, reaching across to pat LJ’s huge knee.
‘Here we are, folks. Now what?’
‘Urn, how about comparing what we know, first? That way, we can either break up into pairs or go as a group to wherever it is we’re heading,’ Derek offered.
That sounded reasonable to me, so I nodded my assent. Leslie did the same, and LJ, after looking at Leslie, nodded as well.
‘OK, let’s talk about what we know concerning Skinny Joe, Andy’s uncle,’ Leslie said. ‘I’ll go first. I know he was in the dressing room with Andy and Bert when Jo and I went to tell them to come out and talk to the police. Right, Jo?’ She looked at me for affirmation.
‘Yep, that’s right,’ I replied. ‘And I remember someone saying that they saw him out in the parking lot, looking for something near where Josie’s – where Josie was.’
Becklaw's Murder Mystery Tour (Jo Anderson Series) Page 11