A highway patrol car, lights flashing, pulled in behind her.
“Be cool.” Russell said, as she pulled onto the shoulder to stop.
“Why wouldn’t I be cool? I haven’t committed a crime or anything.” She waited while the officer got out of his car and approached her window.
“Hello, officer.” She heard Russell grumble something unintelligible. Ignoring him, she asked, “How are you today?”
The officer leaned down a little to see inside the car, making eye contact with a nervous Russell. “Ma’am, I need to see your license and registration.”
“Yes, sir.” She got her wallet and started to hand it to him.
“Take it out, please.” She obeyed, and then reached over in front of Russell to unlatch the glove compartment. Feeling around for the packet of papers that Gary always made sure was up to date, her hand touched something solid and metal. She leaned over closer to see a gun in her glove compartment. A low gasp escaped from Russell’s mouth. Be cool, she thought, and reached under it for the plastic folder. “Here you go, officer,” she said in a forced, pleasant voice.
He took the paper, examined it, and walked back to his police cruiser.
“What the—?”
“It’s mine,” Russell whispered. He quickly closed the glove box. “I put it in your car when we drove up to see Henry Wilcox. I forgot all about it.”
“Is it legal? Will we get in trouble if he sees it? Oh, here he comes.” They both sat up straight, unnaturally so.
“Ma’am, have you been drinking today?”
“Drinking? Only iced tea, sir.”
“I observed you weaving back and forth a few miles back. Can you explain?”
“Why yes, officer. I was trying to find something in my purse, and I guess I was being careless. My brother,” she said, motioning to Russell, “told me to be more careful.”
He looked back and forth at the two of them. “Would you mind getting out of the car? Both of you.”
This is it. We are both going to jail.
“You can just stand right there,” he said, pointing to Russell. “Ma’am, if you’d come over here, I need you to perform a few tests.”
Like an obedient child, Deena followed.
“Watch me as I demonstrate.” The highway patrolman spread his arms out and touched his nose using one hand at a time.
If I weren’t about to go to jail, this would be funny, Deena thought. She performed the task flawlessly. He then had her walk a straight line. Luckily, she was wearing sandals and not heels.
“Thank you. You can both return to your vehicle and wait for me.” He went back to his car and stood there writing on a large notepad.
“What do you think?” she asked Russell as she sat staring out the front window. “Are we going to be okay?”
“Maybe.” They waited for what seemed a lifetime until the officer returned.
“Ma’am, I am issuing you a citation for reckless driving. I need you to sign it to indicate you received the citation. It does not mean you agree. There is information on the back about what you will need to do.”
“Thank you,” she said, signing and taking her copy.
“I suggest you be more careful and pay attention to the road. Have a nice day.”
“Thank you, I will.” She pressed the button to roll up her window and let out a huge sigh of relief. After waiting for an opening in the traffic, she carefully drove off.
“Take the next exit,” Russell ordered. “There’s a Dairy Queen. I’ll put the pistol in the cargo bin.”
Walking inside to order their meal, Deena realized she was still shaking. After they settled in the booth to eat, she finally asked her brother the million-dollar question. “Why did you bring a gun? I thought you said you didn’t have any bullets.”
“I don’t. It’s not loaded. I just didn’t know what we’d be up against with Henry Wilcox, and I wanted to be prepared.”
She waited for a young mother with her daughter to walk past, and then asked, “How is an unloaded gun going to help? Are you going to throw it at somebody or what?”
“I know, I know. You’re not a gun person, so you wouldn’t understand.”
“I could just see us now. ‘Hey Mister Criminal, give us a minute to run to the sporting goods store to buy some ammo, and we’ll be right back.’”
Russell ate his sandwich without speaking. After a few minutes, he said, “Let’s focus on the matter at hand—Gene Collins.”
“I want you to go in with me. Maybe he’ll be more intimidated if we’re both there.” She wiped salt off her blouse from the French fries she was eating. “There’s a lot riding on this meeting. If Collins doesn’t admit to Wilcox’s theory, Matthew could go from sympathetic victim to notorious killer.”
“MR. COLLINS, YOU HAVE visitors,” the attendant announced. Deena stepped into the doorway with her brother right behind.
“You again?” he asked. “What do you want now?”
“Mr. Collins, this is my brother Russell, and we need to ask you a few more questions.”
“Good thing you came today. I might not be here tomorrow, if you know what I mean.” He picked up the remote and muted the television. “I’m not really in the mood to answer questions, but being that you’re Matthew’s kin and all, fire away.”
They sat down at the table across from him and Deena took the lead. “I’m not exactly sure how to ask this, but here goes. Do you know anything about people stealing merchandise at Barnes Medical while you were there?” She watched his reaction closely.
The old man leaned back in his chair. “Obviously you know something or you wouldn’t be asking about it.”
“The information I received is that you and others working in the warehouse had a scam going where you were taking inventory and selling it on the black market. I was also told that you all were caught and fired. Is that true?”
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
“Yes and no.,” Collins said. “Yeah, merchandise would walk out the back door, but we’re not talking about some big organized crime here. Just a little employee pilfering now and then. Why do you ask? What does this have to do with Matthew?”
“So, were you fired?”
“First, tell me the connection.”
“My source,” Deena said, staring him right in the eyes, “accused you and your partners of killing my uncle.”
“That’s not true! Matthew Meade was my best friend. I would never do anything like that, not to him or anyone.” He choked and took a swig of water.
Russell took a softer tone. “I know how it is, man. Fighting in the war does things to you. You are taught to kill over there, and when you come back here...you know.”
“No, I don’t. I’m telling the truth.” Collins coughed. “Look, I don’t know who you talked to, but this is the truth. A couple of us were helping ourselves to some of the merchandise and selling it on the side. Someone ratted on us to Matthew. He said for us to cut it out, or he’d have to tell management. I told him I would stop, and I told my buddies to do the same. One of them kept it up. A few weeks later, we all got canned. The boss didn’t know who to trust, so we all went down for it.”
Deena, noticing Gene appeared more haggard than on her first visit, could see he was visibly shaken.
He pushed himself up from the table and leaned on his cane as he walked toward the night table. He opened the drawer and took out a bottle of medicine. When he came back to the table, he washed down a pill with a gulp of water.
“At my age,” he said. “I have no reason to lie.”
Deena looked at him for a minute, trying to decide if she believed him. Then she asked, “What about that last night at the diner? You said you left the table to go to the men’s room. Is that true?”
He looked down and shook his head. “I don’t know who you talked to, but it feels like I’m being haunted by a ghost. No, it’s not true. I went to use the pay phone. I called this girl I was seeing, Katherine Co
oper. You showed me her picture, remember? She used to be engaged to Matthew, but he broke it off. I know I shouldn’t have taken up with my best friend’s ex-girlfriend, but I couldn’t help it. When the cops asked me about that night at the diner, I lied. For all I knew, Matthew was going to turn up a few days later. I didn’t want him to find out I was seeing his girl.”
It was a plausible explanation. “What happened to her?”
“When I got fired, she dropped me. I moved back here to Bingham.” His eyes were moist from age and regret.
“Is there a chance anyone at the warehouse would have had a grudge against Matthew?” Deena asked.
“No way. Everyone liked him. We trusted him.”
Reaching into her purse, Deena pulled out the address book. “Can you look through here and tell me if any of these people worked with you?”
He squinted and handed it back. “This writing is too small. Read it out.”
As she called out the names, she marked the ones Collins recognized from the company. He noted that two of the employees had passed away, leaving five others.
Deena focused on one name. “I’d really like to track down Donna Morrison. Would any of these other people have kept up with her?”
“I don’t know, but you should call Carolyn Fitzhugh. If anyone will know what happened to her, Carolyn will. She’s into everybody’s business in Maycroft. Have you heard of her?”
“I know who she is, but I have never met her.”
“She goes to the Baptist church. Used to be a big community do-gooder.”
Deena knew about the family’s reputation. “There’s a Fitzhugh Park, Fitzhugh Library, Fitzhugh Women’s Shelter.”
“That’s her,” Gene said. “She’s slowed down the last few years. Has heart trouble, like me.”
“Thanks. I’ll call her.”
“Sis,” Russell said. “Would you mind giving Gene and me a minute alone?”
She was surprised but trusted her brother. “Okay, sure. Mr. Collins, I appreciate your help once again. I hope you feel better.”
He nodded to her as she stood up and walked out into the hall. Standing right next to the door, she listened as her brother began to speak.
“Gene, if what you say is true, then someone else murdered Matthew. This may sound like a strange question, but did Matthew ever say he was approached by someone wanting to hire him for some private work? Like a hit?”
Deena leaned even closer to the doorway and heard Collins respond. “How do you know about that?”
Russell stood up, walked over to the door, and pushed it until the latch clicked.
DEENA SAT IN HER CAR fidgeting while waiting for Russell. After about ten minutes, she couldn’t wait any longer. Locking her door, she headed toward the entrance.
Right then, Russell barreled around the corner. “Let’s get out of here.”
Annoyed with her brother, Deena stood waiting with her hands on her hips. “What happened? What did he say?”
“I’ll drive.” He held out his hand, waiting for Deena to give him the keys.
Frustrated that he was not answering her questions, she handed them over and got in the passenger seat.
They both jumped as an ambulance drove past them, sirens blaring, pulling into the back parking lot of the building.
Russell backed out, almost hitting another car.
“Be careful,” she said. “You don’t want to get us killed.”
He glanced at her. “Poor choice of words.”
“What do you mean?”
“Gene Collins. I think he’s dead.”
Deena gasped. “You killed him?”
“No, of course not! He had a heart attack. He was talking and suddenly grabbed his chest and keeled over. I got a nurse and they kicked me out of the room.”
“So that ambulance...”
“Yeah. Poor guy. I hope he makes it.”
They drove in silence a few minutes, and Russell turned toward the highway. “You are not going to believe this,” he said, looking in his rearview mirror.
“What? What did he say?”
“No. You’re not going to believe who is following us. Leon Galt.”
Deena turned around to look. “What the blazes does he want now?”
Galt flashed his lights at them.
“He wants us to pull over.” Russell glanced at his sister. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t want to talk to him until you tell me what Collins said.”
“Okay then. If I speed up, maybe he’ll get the message we are not in the mood to talk.” Russell pulled into the left lane to pass several large trucks.
“Be careful,” Deena said. “There’s some road construction up here.”
“He’s speeding up. This guy is a slow learner.” Russell pulled back into the right lane to pass a slower car. Galt was on his tail. “I’ve got an idea. I’m going to slow down, pull onto the shoulder, and he’ll go flying by.”
Deena braced herself. Russell put on the brakes, pulled off onto the shoulder, and came to a stop. Just as planned, they watched Galt’s black sedan speed past.
Impressed, Deena asked, “Where’d you learn that move? The army?”
“No, Top Gun.”
They saw Galt’s brake lights come on as he pulled onto the gravel shoulder. But, instead of stopping, his car fishtailed then flew off the road into the grassy embankment, flipping over once before landing upright. Steam immediately began pouring out from under the hood.
“Whoa!” Russell said as he drove slowly down the shoulder toward the scene.
Other cars pulled off the road, and a man raced toward the wreck shouting to his friends, “Call 9-1-1!” Several people had their cell phones out and stood back watching. Deena and Russell got out just as they saw Galt open the door and emerge from his car. He pulled out his handkerchief and blotted it on his forehead, checking for blood. A few drops trickled from a small cut.
“Dude! Are you okay?” the young man asked, giving Galt a shoulder to lean on. “You could have been killed!”
“Yeah. I think I’m alright.”
The guy shook his head. “Your car is toast.”
Seeing Russell and Deena coming to help, he left Galt standing with them and headed toward the car along with some other curious onlookers.
“Leon, are you okay? Do you need to sit down?” Deena felt guilty and helpless.
“Top Gun, right?” Galt asked.
“I’m sorry, man,” Russell said. “I didn’t mean for you to—”
“Not your fault. I shouldn’t have followed you. I tried to catch you when you left the nursing home, but you took off too fast.” He put his hand up on his shoulder and rubbed it. “I just needed to talk to you in person.”
Sirens announced the arrival of several emergency vehicles. “I have a proposition for you.” He swayed a little, and Russell caught him by the arm.
“I think that’s going to have to wait,” Russell said.
Paramedics rushed down the hill as Russell helped Galt to the ground.
“Are you two hurt?” one of the paramedics asked.
“No. We weren’t in the car,” Deena said. “We just—saw what happened.” She and Russell backed out of the way and watched as Galt answered their questions.
“You have my number,” Deena said, and she and Russell walked up the hill to their car.
Police officers were talking to other witnesses. She took the keys and got in the driver’s seat. “I’ve talked to the police once today. That’s enough.” Inching her way around a fire engine, she pulled into the backed-up, single lane of traffic and drove toward Crossbow.
“Are you going to tell Gary about this?”
“Of course. But first things first. What did Gene tell you?”
Russell took a deep breath as the accident scene grew smaller in his side mirror. “I guess you heard what I asked him. Apparently, about six months before he disappeared, someone approached Matthew to do a job. Offered to compensate him reall
y well for his work. He refused but told Collins about it because he wanted someone to watch his back.”
“Did Matthew say who it was or what the job was?” She glanced nervously from the road to her brother.
“No. He said Matthew never mentioned it again.”
“If the guy was looking for a hired gun, he doesn’t sound very persistent.”
“I agree. You would think he would have ways of convincing Matthew.”
“Did you ask Collins if he ever told the police about it?”
“Yes, but that’s when he...stopped talking.”
“I see. Well, I’m going to call Carolyn Fitzhugh first thing tomorrow to see if she knows where we can find Donna. The fact that she was there and moved away a week later seems pretty suspicious to me.”
They drove in silence for a while, thinking about all that had just happened.
When they were almost to Russell’s, he shifted in his seat to look straight at his sister. “Deena, why are you doing this? Does it really matter at this point? Is it about the job at the newspaper?”
She thought about it. When she pulled in front of his house, she could hear Maggie barking in the distance. Leaning back in her seat, she let out a deep sigh. “You know, that’s a good question. At first, it seemed exciting. I might write an interesting story and get a job while also helping Gran get some closure. Then, it became bigger. More of a matter of right versus wrong.”
Russell nodded. “With Galt being the one wrongfully accusing Matthew of murder.”
“Now,” she said, “it’s more about finding the truth of what really did or did not happen.”
“Are you saying that if Galt’s evidence proves Matthew’s involvement in the assassination, you will just sit back and let the chips fall where they may?”
“What choice do we have? And besides, isn’t finding the truth the most important thing?”
“I’m not so sure,” Russell said. “Sometimes, the truth hurts more than it helps.”
“I’m beginning to see that.” Motioning toward the back of the car, she said, “Don’t forget to take that thing with you.”
“Will do.”
Deena watched as Russell took the gun and walked to his front door. Opening it, he leaned down to scratch the dog and took the gun straight to the safe—where he had previously left the door ajar when he first took it out.
Cozy Suburbs Mystery Box Set Page 12