That’s good, I thought. They wouldn’t give him oxygen if he were already dead. A man pulled on me and shouted for me to move back. With childlike obedience, I joined Beverly and company across the street. It wasn’t long until our view was blocked by trucks and vans, men with hoses and ladders, smoke and soot. I looked around and realized someone else was missing from the crowd. Jake wasn’t there.
Could he have been with Andy? “Jake!” I yelled. “Beverly, where’s Jake?”
“I’m here,” he said, trotting down the street.
When I saw him, my eyes shed tears for the first time since the explosion had rocked my world. He wrapped his arms around me to keep me from falling. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he whispered in my ear.
The neighbors filled him in on the details of what had happened as we watched an ambulance speed away with Andy inside. The wind blew smoke our direction, forcing us to move farther down the road.
The firemen extinguished the blaze quicker than I’d expected. Slowly, one by one, the emergency vehicles peeled away, leaving us to wonder what on earth had happened.
That was pretty much the first question Sheriff Grady asked Beverly as we sat inside Tuna Casserole’s house, warming ourselves with hot coffee and a blazing stove. Ironic, isn’t it, the double nature of fire. So much comfort when under control; so deadly when out of it.
“I don’t know,” Beverly repeated as an answer to every other question Grady asked. From what we gathered, Andy had come over to work on the golf cart. He thought he might have it ready to drive and thus ready to sell. Beverly was in the kitchen making sandwiches when the explosion occurred. It wasn’t much to go on.
Penelope burst through the front door. “Mom, are you all right?” She threw her arms around her mother.
“Yes, dear, I’m fine. But Andy...”
“He’s still alive,” Grady said.
“Thanks to you.” Beverly reached up and grabbed his neck, pulling him down to kiss his cheek.
Applause broke out as the onlookers cheered his heroism. Even I had to admit that Tucker Grady was a hero that day. I glanced at Jake, who nodded.
At that moment, I was reminded of my resolve to find a way to fit in. I needed to do my part to assimilate. I joined in the clapping and even gave Grady a pat on the back.
It was a nice moment, although short-lived.
EVEN THOUGH THE FIREFIGHTERS had contained the fire to the garage, Sheriff Grady told Beverly he wanted her to stay out until they could investigate the cause of the fire and make sure the electrical was safe. He allowed her and Penelope a quick trip inside to pack a small bag, and then Penelope took her mother back to her home.
The neighbors made plans to bring food to Beverly. When feeling helpless, it’s what we do. I offered to make spaghetti, then thought better of it. I decided on a meatloaf instead.
“Well, at least Dale finally got his way,” I told Jake as he walked me back to my house. “Beverly is coming to stay with him.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I stopped. “You don’t think Dale started the fire, do you?” I twisted my ring.
He looked as though I’d kicked his dog. “Surely not.”
“But think about what he said last night at the casino. He said Beverly wouldn’t have a choice but to leave her house. Maybe this is what he was talking about.”
“Why would he want to burn down a house he was trying to sell?”
“For the insurance money. It happens all the time.”
Jake looked doubtful. “But wouldn’t Beverly get the insurance?”
“While she’s alive; otherwise it would go to her only heir, Penelope. Dale’s wife.” I could feel my mouth gape.
Jake took my arm and led me up the front walk. “I think you’ve been watching too many movies.”
“Do you? What about the golf club? Do you really think Beverly just gave it to Curtis like Dale said?”
We stood on the front porch. “I think you need to remember what Grady told us yesterday and let the professionals do their jobs. Besides, you barely know Beverly. Why do you care so much?”
I took a step back. “Are you serious? Yesterday you were all about me following my gut, now you’re telling me to ignore it?”
“It’s just that—I mean—you saw what happened to Andy.”
“So you do think something fishy is going on.”
“I didn’t say that. I just mean I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt, too.”
Cricket chose that moment to emerge from the bushes and began circling my feet. I brushed her aside. What had happened to the bold, caring Jake I thought I was getting to know? Who was this man in front of me? I wanted him to go home and give me time to think. I didn’t have to ask.
“Look, I’ve got work to do,” he said. “I’ll call to check on you later. Okay?”
I nodded my head.
He put his arms around me and pulled me to his chest. I’m sure he felt my shoulders tense up. He let go and took off toward his house. As I watched him walk away, I took in deep, steady breaths. The charred wood smell had begun to fade, but I noticed another in its place. This one had a chemical odor. I pulled the collar of my jacket up to my nose. I recognized it immediately. It was the distinctive smell of gasoline.
Chapter 23
My need to help Beverly had grown even stronger than before. Whether it was Gran or Cricket or my conscience, I couldn’t say. Beverly was like that pitiful dog with the homeless man with no one to watch out for it. Grady was overly concerned about his reputation. Penelope was too close to the situation, and Jake seemed to have made an about-face. Who was left to put Beverly’s best interest first?
Okay, and I had a tendency to meddle. Nobody’s perfect.
Could the fire have been intended to destroy the house or to destroy her? Surely Handy Andy wouldn’t have been the target.
This whole thing had started with Curtis and the blood and the golf club. Maybe he was the key to figuring out the mystery. There was only one way to find out. I headed to the bank.
“Mr. Meeks is with a customer,” the secretary said as she peered over horn-rimmed glasses. “I’d be glad to make an appointment for you to see him. It will have to be tomorrow though.”
“No. It has to be today. I’ll wait.”
“Perhaps you don’t understand. Mr. Meeks is tied up the rest of the afternoon. I can get you in to see him in the morning, or perhaps one of our other associates can help you. What did you say your name was?”
“My name is Wendy I’m-not-leaving Fairmont. Get the picture?” I stomped over to a tufted leather chair and plopped down defiantly.
“Mrs. Fairmont—”
“Ms. Fairmont, if you don’t mind.”
“Ms. Fairmont, clearly you’re agitated. I don’t want to call security, but I will.” She reached under the edge of her desk.
Ms. Stonewall, or whatever her name was, looked to be serious. I didn’t want the cops here, but I just really needed to talk to Curtis. Now. “Okay,” I said and stood up. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“Perfect. How about ten thirty?”
“Perfect,” I said and smiled. When I walked around the corner, I picked up a magazine and leaned against the wall behind a ficus tree, trying to appear nonchalant. I smiled and nodded at the security guard who was half napping with his feet up on a small desk in the corner. He went back to doing whatever it was he was doing. From my vantage point, I could see Meeks’ office door without the secretary seeing me. I waited.
Sure enough, about ten minutes later the door opened and Curtis stepped out, shaking a man’s hand.
I bolted around the corner. “Curtis, I need to talk to you.”
He looked at the secretary and then back at me. “I’m sorry, Ms. Fairmont, but you’ll need to make an appointment.” He turned toward his office.
“Wait. It’s about Beverly. There was a fire at her house this morning.”
“A fire? Good lord.” He motioned for me to follow him.
I tosse
d the magazine on the secretary’s desk as I walked by.
Curtis’s office was as neat as his home. It looked as though it had been staged for a magazine shoot. The only evidence of paperwork was one lone file folder in the center of his desk.
He closed the door behind us. “So what happened? Is she all right?”
“There was an explosion and then the garage was on fire. She got out fine, but Andy, her friend, is in the hospital.”
“I know Andy Montgomery. Is he going to be okay?”
“I’m not sure. Sheriff Grady pulled him out of the fire.”
“What about your house? Mine? Thank heavens Lana and Delilah have gone to visit her mother. Did the fire spread to our houses?”
“No, it was contained to Beverly’s garage.”
“Good.” He sank down in his chair and motioned for me to do the same. “I appreciate your coming over here to give me the news in person. Is there anything I can do?”
“There is. You can tell me the truth.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Pardon me?”
“About the golf club.”
He shook his head slowly. “It was you, wasn’t it?” It was more of a statement than a question. “You’re the one who told the sheriff I had the golf club.”
“So how did you get it? I mean, I can’t believe Beverly gave it to you.”
“I don’t see how this is any of your business, but yes, Beverly gave it to me. I didn’t believe it myself when I first found it on my front porch. I assumed there was some kind of mistake. That’s why I walked over to her house that evening when the truck was there. I was going to see if she wanted it back or thank her or whatever. Of course, you know what happened then.”
“You saw the blood and called the sheriff.”
“Yes.”
“Do you think it was Beverly who killed Harold?”
“I did at first, but now I’m not so sure she was strong enough to do it. It would take muscles to smash a man’s skull and then drag him over to the fireplace. Strength and quick thinking. I don’t suspect Beverly has either.”
“So who does that leave?”
“I wouldn’t want to speculate.” He set his jaw.
“Tell me something, why did you want to buy Harold’s golf clubs from Beverly? Why didn’t you just buy your own?”
“Because, those were all the rage down at the club. All the board members used them. I thought they would help me with my curve shot.”
“Curve shot? Do you mean ‘hook’?”
“Yes, whatever.” He reached up and adjusted his tie; his nails appeared freshly buffed.
“Wait a minute.” I looked at his hands. “You don’t really play golf, do you?”
His cheeks brightened and he stuck out his chin. “Of course I do.”
I reached over the desk and grabbed his hand, turning it palm up. “Really? These aren’t the hands of a golfer. They’re softer than your baby’s bottom.”
He jerked his hand away. “Oh. All. Right.” He practically spat the words out. “I’ve played a little, but it’s a stupid game with stupid rules. Only thing I like about it are the clothes. The shoes are hideous.”
“So why pretend?”
“Because I’m a banker. Bankers are supposed to play golf and hobnob with the elite.”
“The elite? This is Cascada, New Mexico, remember?”
“Of course I remember. I remember it every day when I drive up to this shack of an office. I’d still be back in Denver if I just hadn’t...”
“Hadn’t what? Slept with the boss’s wife? Stolen from the bank’s safe?”
“Don’t be absurd. If you must know, I suggested to the branch manager that he might want to consider getting hair plugs. It seemed a perfectly reasonable observation. Who would have known he’d be so touchy about it.”
“I’m sure everybody would have known.”
“Not only that, but it turns out he was the son-in-law of the comptroller at the head office.”
“Head office.” I snickered.
“Well, I’m glad you find my disgrace so amusing.” He picked up the file on his desk and slid it into his top drawer.
“I’m sorry, Curtis, I don’t. It just explains a lot.” I waited for him to look up. “Speaking of sons-in-law, have you spoken to Dale?”
“Not since the night I called the sheriff. Considering the circumstances, he was quite a gentleman.”
“What do you mean?”
“He came over to make sure I had found Harold’s golf club.”
“Really? So, did you ever get a chance to say something to Beverly about the club?”
“No, I haven’t spoken to her since. But Dale confirmed she had given it to me.”
“You say Dale confirmed it?”
“Yes,” he said.
Once again, all roads led to Dale.
Chapter 24
When I left the bank, I headed straight to the Cascada Regional Medical Center to see Andy. He might have an idea of what happened. Maybe he saw somebody. Maybe Dale had done something to cause the explosion and fire. Perhaps Dale didn’t realize Andy would be there.
But another thought kept knocking at my brain. Try as I might, I couldn’t keep it out. Jake. Where had he been when the fire started? Why did he smell like gasoline? And why was he trying to get me to back off all of a sudden?
I didn’t want to think that he had anything to do with the fire or Harold’s death. Besides, what would be his motive? What was to be gained? I had learned a long time ago that everybody had secrets, even me. There could be a reason for Jake to kill Harold that I had no clue about.
Maybe Andy would have answers.
I waited outside his hospital room for the nurse to come out. Through the crack in the door, I could see he was awake and talking. The top of his head was wrapped like a mummy’s and both arms were covered in bandages.
The nurse opened the door. “Who are you?”
I jerked upright. “I’m Andy’s niece, Wendy,” I said as convincingly as possible.
Her face softened. “Oh good. We thought he didn’t have any family in the area.” She held open the door. “Go on in, dear. I must warn you that he may not make a lot of sense. He’s on some pretty heavy pain meds.”
I crept toward the bed, waiting for the door to close behind me. “Andy?” I said softly.
He turned his head slightly. “You. What are you doing here?”
“I came to check on you.” Crossing my fingers behind my back, I added, “Beverly sent me.”
“Beverly,” he sputtered and then coughed. He nodded toward the cup of water. I held the straw up to his lips while he took a sip.
“I told the nurse I was your niece so she’d let me in. I hope that’s okay.”
“Beverly,” he repeated.
Oh dear. Maybe he was hallucinating or had a concussion. “No,” I said. “It’s Wendy.”
He tried to turn his head toward me.
“Don’t move,” I said. “You might hurt yourself.”
He pointed a shaky finger back at the cup of water, so I held it up again. He took a long drag on the straw then sucked in a deep breath. When he let it out, his words came easier. “Where’s Beverly?”
“Beverly is fine. She’s at her daughter’s house.”
He shook his head. “No. Too dangerous.”
“What’s too dangerous? She’s at Penelope’s house,” I said louder and more slowly.
“Dale. Dale killed Harold.”
“What? Are you sure?”
He spoke slowly and barely above a whisper. “I heard two men at the house. Arguing.”
“When? Today? This morning?”
“No. When Harold died.”
I moved in closer so I could be sure of his words.
“I thought one of them was Dale. I couldn’t tell Beverly. It would destroy her to think he did it. And it wouldn’t bring Harold back.”
I shook my head. “So you kept this a secret the whole time?”
He swall
owed hard. “After she was arrested, I told her. She made me promise not to tell anyone. She didn’t want Penelope to find out. Poor girl, her whole life’s been one lie after another. She needs to know the truth for once.”
“Truth about what? Her husband?”
“And her father.”
“That Dale killed her father,” I said slowly.
“No. I mean yes. That too. But Harold’s not her father.” He began to cough again, this time with more force.
I tried to process what he was saying. “Do you think Beverly may be in danger because she’s at the house with Penelope and Dale?”
“Yes.”
I wanted to believe him. To know that Jake was innocent. “Andy, how sure are you that it was Dale arguing with Harold?”
“He needs money. Wants the house. Had to be him.”
“Did you see anyone this morning when you went out to the garage?”
“No, I switched on the light and heard a loud noise. Big ball of fire. I need to talk to Sheriff Grady. Call him for me, please. Get Beverly out of there.”
The nurse came in. “Mr. Montgomery needs his rest now. You can come back later.”
I looked at Andy. His eyes pleaded with me.
“Not yet,” I said. “First, we have to call the sheriff.”
Chapter 25
Sheriff Grady assured me he would send an officer over to retrieve Beverly from her daughter’s house and head immediately up to the hospital to get a statement from Andy. At that point, there was little left for me to do but go home. Beverly would be safe and Grady would get the details he needed to arrest Dale.
But my mind kept slipping back to what Andy had said about Penelope and her father. Was he high on happy pills? If what he said was true, it might explain some things like why Harold said Beverly owed him and why he wasn’t close to his daughter. This sounded more like Peyton Place than Cascada.
So who could be the father? Andy? Surely not. Penelope looked nothing like him.
Killer Shots Murder Mysteries - Books 1-3 Page 12