Misalignment and Murder

by Cathy Tully

  Bitsy bowed as she entered the break room, and Larraine embraced her, adding a pat on the back. Tina emerged from the kitchen with a handful of napkins. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” Bitsy bowed low, one leg behind her.

  Susannah smiled, remembering that Bitsy had once mentioned a dream of being on the stage. She laughed. A loud meow and a nudge against her leg turned her attention to Rusty. As the women settled in with their coffee, she filled Rusty’s bowl with kibble. Rusty looked up at her, golden eyes unblinking, and she gave him a few strokes before shutting the door and taking a seat.

  “Every celebration needs a treat.” Larraine pointed to the plate on the table. “Lucky I had a plate of Miss Shirleen’s pumpkin chocolate chip cookies, so enjoy.”

  “There’s fruit and yogurt in the kitchen,” Susannah told Tina, who smiled but looked elsewhere. Susannah, who followed a gluten- and allergen-free diet, always kept the fridge stocked with healthy snacks.

  “I already had a good breakfast.” Tina reached for a small cookie. “So I’m only going to have a taste.”

  The women held their paper cups high and toasted Bitsy’s good news.

  “By the way, I’ve got some info about Gus,” Tina said, placing the uneaten part of her cookie on a napkin. All eyes were on her. Tina’s husband, Keith Cawthorn, was a Peach Grove police officer, and she often gleaned information from him. “I overheard Keith say that Gus’s car was found in the library parking lot. The police think he was meeting someone.” She put the words meeting someone in air quotes.

  The room went silent. Over the summer, there had been much discussion among the women about whether Anita Alvarez had been “meeting someone” for a romantic rendezvous when she was killed. The women looked at each other knowingly.

  “Little Junior tells me the same,” Bitsy said, popping half a cookie into her mouth and washing it down with a gulp of Starbucks. Little Junior Long, the desk sergeant at the Peach Grove PD, was one of Bitsy’s many cousins. Susannah often wondered if he could read lips because no detail ever seemed to escape his grasp. “But there’s more. They definitely think he was meeting a woman. She left something in his car, but Little Junior wasn’t sure what it was.”

  The women looked at each other. Could a woman have killed Gus?

  “Anything else from Little Junior?” Susannah asked.

  “No.” Bitsy shook her head as she drank. “Just that it was something small.”

  “That sounds like an important clue,” Larraine said.

  “It could be,” Susannah said. “But it doesn’t really involve us.”

  The room was silent except for Bitsy slurping her coffee. Larraine and Tina exchanged a glance, and Tina turned to gape at Susannah, the gold flecks in her brown eyes shining.

  “What?” Susannah asked.

  “Not involve us?” Tina looked incredulous. “Dr. Shine, you found Gus’s body. You remember what happened the last time you discovered a recently deceased acquaintance?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “No buts,” Larraine said, peering over her bifocals at Susannah. “We need to be proactive here. We can’t wait until that detective accuses you. Again. We should start now.”

  “I agree,” Bitsy added. “There’s something not right about this whole thing. I know where to start. At the fall festival, I made some new friends who are on the PTA.”

  Tina poked Larraine’s arm. “We heard you made a big splash there,” Larraine said, chuckling. Tina laughed. They clearly had both heard about Bitsy’s stint in the dunking booth.

  “I suppose I did,” Bitsy said, smiling.

  “Okay,” Susannah agreed, then sipped coffee off the plastic lid of her Starbucks cup. “I guess I’ll follow up with Angie. Maybe she’s heard something that would be helpful.” Susannah glanced at her phone, then pointed at Larraine and Tina. “It’s ten am. Patients aren’t due in until three o’clock. Bitsy will make contact with the PTA. I’m going to go home and check on Angie, and I’ll see you two around noon.”

  Tina and Larraine nodded their agreement. Susannah glanced at the women. Though glad that Angie had joined her in Georgia, these women had sustained her when her family was far away. Bitsy and the Long clan had welcomed Susannah into their fold over fifteen years ago, and she loved every minute of time she spent with them. Larraine had been her office manager for almost as long, and Susannah congratulated herself on a regular basis for being smart enough to hire the woman. Tina, though younger, had fallen into the rhythm of the office and become part of the furniture, so to speak. She considered all of them family. Together, the four of them would make sense of Gus’s death.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Cookin’ N Cryin’

  Susannah entered her house on tiptoe. Angie’s car was parked in the driveway, and Susannah expected to find her sister in bed with the blanket pulled over her head. But when she pushed the door open, she was greeted by the smell of something burning and the sound of the TV blaring. Rushing into the kitchen, Susannah switched the flame off and moved a saucepan to another burner. Inside the pot, shrunken bits of garlic were black and smoldering.

  “Angie?” Susannah called. There was no answer. In the living room, Angie slumped on the couch watching The Price Is Right, a tissue in her hand. “Angie.” Susannah picked up the remote and muted Drew Carey. “What’s going on? What are you cooking?”

  Angie jumped up from the couch. “My sauce!” she cried in a congested nasal tone as she ran into the kitchen. Grabbing a dishtowel, she began waving it around to dissipate the smoke. “The garlic is burning.”

  “The garlic is burnt,” Susannah replied. “Why are you cooking? You should be in bed. What time did you get in last night?”

  “I can’t sleep. I thought I’d start a lasagna.” Angie’s lasagna with meat sauce was famous in their family. She used the old family recipe, tweaking it with a bit of pepperoni to make the whole dish a spice-filled cheesy delight. Susannah’s mouth watered at the thought. Angie peered into the saucepan, her shoulders drooping. Her ratty bathrobe hung off her frame. Even her black curls seemed to lack their usual bounce.

  Susannah grabbed two potholders, lifted the pot from the stove, and poured the burnt oil and garlic into the trash can. “I’ll clean it up.” Susannah placed the pot in the sink with a sizzle of water against hot stainless steel.

  Angie looked at her feet. “Okay.” Her nasal congestion made the word sound like otay. Susannah gave her a hug. Angie huffed a few times against Susannah’s chest, then stepped back. Uncurling her fist, she wiped her nose with a crumpled tissue. A flicker of anger showed in her black eyes. “I hate crying!”

  Susannah patted her back. “It’s going to be all right.”

  “I hate crying.” Angie blew her nose into the used tissue. “My nose gets red.” Nose sounded like dose.

  “I know.” Susannah chuckled and then inhaled sharply. She didn’t want to insult her again by laughing.

  Angie gave Susannah a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Suzie.”

  “For what?”

  “For bitin’ your head off last night. I was just so surprised about Gus’s death. I mean, I never expected to hear this kind of news. Just when things seemed to be going my way.”

  “Things still are going your way. You have a good job. You have some great friends. Caden is making friends too, except for Dylan S., who we both agree is a doofus.”

  Angie smiled. “The problem isn’t Caden,” Angie grabbed Susannah’s shirt and pulled her closer; her eyes were steely. Susannah felt a chill go down her arms. Angie lowered her voice. “It’s me.”

  “I—”

  “It’s me. I mess things up everywhere I go.”

  “Don’t say that, Angie. None of this is your fault.”

  “You don’t understand.” Angie closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Her eyelashes were tinged with smudges of mascara that hadn’t been removed properly. Her lips looked naked with no lipstick. Susannah wanted to reassure Angie, but the wild
look on her sister’s face stopped her. Angie opened her eyes and said, “You know what I need?”

  “No,” Susannah said cautiously. “What do you need?”

  “I need to clean this up and start again.” She ripped a paper towel from the roll. At the sink, she wiped out the inside of the saucepan and threw the paper towel in the trash. Running the water at full force, she scrubbed the saucepan, setting up for another batch. “This sauce has to simmer for at least six hours.”

  Susannah watched her sister. She knew people dealt with stress in different ways. Some people cleaned, others ate, or smoked. Angie cooked. But why was she taking this so hard? “Why don’t you get some sleep? I can pick Caden up from school later and after I’m through with patients, I’ll take us all out to dinner.”

  “Nah, I already have all the ingredients.”

  Susannah opened her refrigerator. Seeing it packed to the brim with food still surprised her. An extra-large container of ricotta cheese took up part of the top shelf. A block of mozzarella cheese and a stick of pepperoni were in there somewhere. She shot a glance at Angie, who had stopped crying and was humming to herself. Grabbing a bottle of iced tea, she closed the door. “All right, then. But I insist on picking up Caden after school. By the time you’re done cooking, you’ll be exhausted. He can hang with me at the office while you catch a nap.”

  Angie nodded. “You’re probably right. Thanks.”

  * * *

  Susannah reached out and steadied the top-of-the-line air mattress, which teetered precariously across the length of Bitsy’s shopping cart. A tent, sleeping bags, and Merrell hiking shoes filled the basket. After Susannah’s chiropractic patients had gone, Bitsy appeared, convincing Susannah to come shopping for gear for the camp-out. Caden had been more than happy to spend time with Jamal and his big sister Andrea, so a bargain had been struck.

  Finally satisfied, Bitsy pushed her buggy toward the checkout area of America’s Finest Sporting Goods, where they found Travis Keene at the register.

  “Gettin’ ready for the Halloween camping trip?” Travis sponsored Caden and Jamal’s Cub Scout troop and also helped Keith out with the meetings. The troop parents returned the favor by patronizing his store in lieu of the big box sporting goods store up the road. Bitsy’s shopping cart was a testament to that. Travis scratched his beard with the back of his fingers.

  “We sure are,” Bitsy said, piling the belt with her goods. “Jamal is so excited, he can’t talk about anything else.”

  “Youngin’s are adorable.” He touched a cigarette tucked behind his ear. “Mine’re excited about it too. But right now we’re talkin’ ‘bout something else.” Travis spoke of Maggie’s two sons as if they were his own.

  Bitsy leaned forward as she loaded her hiking boots onto the conveyor belt. There wasn’t much in the county that got by the Long clan. Travis’s statement was like a challenge to Bitsy’s whole family. “Like what?”

  “Like a nine-millimeter gun killed Gus Arnold.”

  “Where’d you hear that?” Bitsy asked.

  “I reckon I have my sources.” Travis scanned the tent and sleeping bags and totaled Bitsy’s order. Like a sleight-of-hand trick, the cigarette went from behind his ear and into his mouth. “Most of the Peach Grove PD comes here for one thing or t’other.”

  Bitsy nodded but said nothing. Had Little Junior missed a key bit of information?

  Susannah’s phone rang, and she stepped away to answer it. She frowned at the unknown number and then accepted the call.

  Angie’s voice came through. “Suzie? Can you come and get me? I’m in jail.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Angie’s Key

  Susannah peered down the hood of her Jeep, staring at the road as if silently willing the pavement to turn into the parking lot of the police station. The drive was only two minutes from the sporting goods store, but her arrival had been delayed by Bitsy insisting that she ride along with Susannah. Sitting in the passenger seat, Bitsy tapped on her phone, her long nails clacking against the screen, and said, “I don’t understand why Little Junior didn’t text me.”

  Susannah said nothing as she replayed the events of the last day and didn’t like what she saw. Angie’s reaction to Gus’s death had seemed odd, but her sister was prone to bursting into sobs over a bad haircut. But there was more to it than that. What exactly did she mean by I mess things up everywhere I go?

  She was roused from her thoughts by Bitsy slapping her phone onto her thigh. “He’s at the dentist!” she declared.

  Susannah pulled into the Peach Grove PD parking lot, a place that was familiar for all the wrong reasons. She bit her lip. “Who’s at the dentist?”

  “Little Junior.” Bitsy picked up her phone and sliced the air with it as she spoke. “He got a bad toothache yesterday and had to make an emergency appointment with his dentist. That’s why I didn’t know none of this was coming. I’m sorry.”

  Little Junior couldn’t be everywhere. “Not his fault.” The memory of Angie’s late arrival home the night Gus was killed sent chills down Susannah’s arms. Had she come home at all that night? Yes—Caden had said she was there in the morning and then left. What was she doing? “Stay here,” Susannah told Bitsy.

  “Oh, no. You need a calm-headed presence with you.”

  Butterflies in her stomach, Susannah pushed through the door. Would she need money for bail? At the desk, another officer was in Little Junior’s place; the woman lifted the phone receiver and stabbed at the numbers with a pen. She spoke a few words, then pointed to a bench without looking up. “Have a seat.” Susannah’s stomach churned as she and Bitsy sat. After a few minutes, a door opened and Police Chief Randy Laughton appeared. He motioned to her, and she went over to the door with Bitsy in tow.

  “Just you,” he said, nodding at Susannah. Bitsy sat down.

  Randy ushered Susannah past a row of desks to his office on the other side of the building. Holding the door for her, he let her into his office and shut the door. Two chairs were situated in front of his desk, and he motioned to them. Susannah sat, clutching her purse. The chief’s office was cozier than she would have expected.

  She cleared her throat. “Where’s Angie?”

  “I’ll get to that.” At his desk, he stabbed at a button on his phone and said a few words into the receiver. He hung up and turned to Susannah. “We need to ask you some questions.”

  “I already gave my statement about Gus.” Susannah swallowed. Being here gave her a lump in her throat.

  “This is about your sister.” Randy hooked his thumbs over his belt. His gray-blue eyes and short light hair stood out against his rosy complexion. He fixed her with his best law enforcement stare.

  Susannah’s face fell. “I don’t understand. What is she being charged with?”

  “She’s not being charged,” Randy replied.

  There was a tap on the door, and Detective Varina Withers entered. She nodded at Susannah. “Dr. Shine.”

  Susannah looked from the detective to Randy and then back. “What’s going on?”

  “Where were you this afternoon, Doctor?” the detective asked. She stood against the doorjamb, her hands in the front pockets of her khakis.

  “Me? I was at my office seeing patients.”

  “And after that?”

  “Bitsy and I went shopping at America’s Finest.”

  “When did you see your sister last?”

  “What’s going on?” Susannah protested. “I’m not answering any more of your questions until you tell me what’s going on.”

  Detective Withers glanced at Randy, and he nodded at her, pointing to the empty chair. “Let’s have a chat.” Detective Withers sauntered to the chair and placed it opposite Susannah. “We found your sister at Gus Arnold’s house this afternoon.”

  “What?” Susannah paused, perplexed. She knew something was going on in Angie’s mind. But why had she gone to Gus’s house? How did she know where he lived? “What was she doing there?”

&nbs
p; “That would be my question to you.” Detective Withers leaned back in her chair.

  “How would I know?” Shaking her head, Susannah replayed the morning’s conversation with Angie, trying to make sense of the situation. “As far as I know, they aren’t acquainted. I barely know him.”

  “He is a patient of yours, isn’t he?” Randy leaned forward in his chair, his flat-top crew cut accusing her of misdeeds.

  Susannah inhaled remembering Gus’s friendly smile. “Yes, but I’ve only seen him a few times.” She straightened her spine and looked him in the eye. “Never outside the office. I have no idea where he lives.”

  “Well, your sister does.” Randy steepled his fingers. “Susannah, we don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with this investigation. That’s why we’re asking for your cooperation.”

  “I’ve always been cooperative. But I can’t help you.” Susannah stood. She was done with their pointless questions. Either they explained themselves, or she was gone. “I don’t know why Angie would have gone to Gus’s house. I don’t even know how she found out where he lives. She must have been curious about his death. It’s not a crime to be outside someone’s house, is it?”

  “She wasn’t outside his house. She was inside the house,” Randy said.

  Susannah sat. This was worse than she had thought. How did Angie get into Gus Arnold’s house? As she dug her fingernails into the faux-leather armrests of the chair, her next question came out in a whisper: “She broke into his house?”

  “She didn’t break in.” Detective Withers sat up and leaned forward, her brows pulled down, that serpentine visage back. “She let herself in.”

  “You mean the door was open?”

  “No,” Randy said. “She had a key.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  In One Chamber and Out the Other

  Susannah looked from Randy to Detective Withers and back. “She had a key?” Neither of them said anything.