Barbara Graham - Quilted 05 - Murder by Sunlight (19 page)

“We stopped by the museum on the way into town and told them.” Catherine’s face glowed. “We’re not telling anyone else. Before.”

“That reminds me.” Gus glanced around. “Aren’t the dynamic duo coming here for lunch? They never miss a family picnic.”

Tony felt a jolt of concern. Gus was right. The sisters should be here, squabbling over whose potato salad tasted better.

As if conjured by black magic, the older women arrived, carrying covered bowls and already trying to organize everyone, feed everyone, and enjoy themselves.

Theo leaned against Tony, enjoying the evening and watching fireworks lighting the night sky. He was still wearing his uniform, and she guessed he’d be called out again soon. Not a holiday for him, he’d been gone more than he’d been with the family. It wasn’t just the sheriff’s department. The volunteer firemen had to hate this holiday—day and night. The trucks had passed by the Abernathy house at least three times, going out on calls probably connected to careless fireworks fiends. There were other roads out of town, and Theo assumed they’d traveled those roads as well.

Chris and Jamie were running in the park with their friends, armed with glow sticks. Wide awake, sitting in their double stroller, the twins stared at the sky, fascinated by the flashes of light.

Tony’s cell phone rang at the same moment a huge burst of light exploded overhead, starting red and shifting to gold. He answered, listened for a moment, and kissed Theo’s cheek as he turned and walked away.

“Sheriff?” Mayor Calvin Cashdollar stood in Tony’s office doorway. “May I talk to you?”

Tony didn’t love paperwork, and after working most of the night, he felt mentally and physically sluggish. He willingly set a stack of papers aside. “Come in.”

Looking even more awkward and stork-like than usual, Calvin tiptoed in, closing the door behind him. He stopped in front of Tony’s desk and cleared his throat over and over, punctuated by numerous “ahem” sounds.

“Have a seat?” Tony wasn’t the mayor’s biggest fan but the man had not done anything to seriously harm their working relationship. At least not permanently.

“I prefer to stand.” Calvin stood at attention, but he was shaking, making the overlong thatch of blond hair flap against his eyebrows.

At least he’d stopped the “ahem” chorus. “Speak,” Tony said.

The command snapped Calvin into speech. “I, um, well, that is, um . . .” Calvin paused, pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, and blew his nose. He exhaled. “I thought I’d better tell you, there’s a chance I might show up on some list of Candy’s as Alvin’s father, but I swear I did not kill his mother and I am not the father.” The message delivered, he stood, still shaking, huffing and puffing like he’d just run a marathon.

It took Tony’s brain a second to translate the hastily delivered message. “You and Candy Tibbles?”

“No. I swear I never touched the girl. A long time ago, when I saw her hanging out in bars, drinking and smoking, I always told her to go home.” He sighed. “What a wasted life. Candy couldn’t have been much past seventeen, but she looked almost forty in the dim lights. Her skin was coarse, and her hair hadn’t been combed. She said she’d tell my wife we were having an affair if I didn’t pay her each month.”

“Doreen knows you pay?”

“I told her.” Calvin wiped his face with one shovel-sized hand. “It was after we’d had a fight and she moved to her family home. I was a lot younger then and went drinking at The Spa. It was long enough ago that there was a huge red spot still brightly painted on the building. Otherwise, it wasn’t much nicer then than it is now.”

“So you and Candy?” Tony really didn’t want to know this. “You never had an affair?”

“No. We did not.” Calvin’s voice was emphatic. He gazed past Tony as if he was looking into the past. “Her father, we called him Tib, was my best friend, and her accusation was false, but it would have hurt my reputation as much as if it were true. Candy contacted me when she found out she was pregnant. I paid three hundred dollars every month. Even if I told the truth and claimed her story to be the lie it was, there would be lingering doubts in some minds, especially when there was a baby. There were a couple of times when I had to be out of town on the first, and Doreen drove out and made the payment. I can’t say it improved our marriage.”

“I imagine it didn’t.” Tony wondered how Theo would handle making such payments in his absence. He assumed it would not be a pleasant feature in their marriage. Theo was tiny and gentle, but she had her limits, and Tony was thankful this sort of thing hadn’t happened to them. “You didn’t demand a paternity test?”

“Oh, I thought about it.” Calvin sighed and sat—collapsed really—onto the visitor’s chair. “Doreen knew Candy’s story was a lie and we discussed it, but it seemed easier to both of us to just pay the money than go through the testing, knowing no one would believe the results anyway. So I took the easy way out.”

Tony had to ask. “Did you know you were not the only one paying?”

“Yes. Or at least I assumed so. I hope the father was actually one of those she blackmailed. One night I drove out to drop the cash in the mailbox and saw another car pulling away from it.” Calvin shook his head. “Before you ask, no, I didn’t see the driver’s face.”

“Did you tell Tib about the blackmail?”

“I did. It broke my heart to tell my best friend what his only child was doing. And what she claimed.” Calvin threaded his long fingers into a knot. “I still miss him.”

“So over the years, you probably got to know Tib’s grandson pretty well.” Tony was glad Alvin had such good grandparents.

Calvin smiled for the first time since he’d sat down. “I’d be proud to claim Alvin. He’s a good boy. I used to see him a lot more than I do now, you know, because his granddad and I would take him fishing with us sometimes or to a ball game.”

“When was the last time you saw his mother?”

Calvin thought about it. “Maybe a month ago. I’ll admit I tried not to see her. Paying blackmail when you’re innocent doesn’t create much warmth. And the last time I saw her—” He stopped speaking abruptly and stared at the ceiling.

Tony had never seen the mayor look so pensive.

“She looked so bad. She looked older than her mother did when she died.” Calvin shook his head very slightly. “Half of Candy’s teeth were gone, she was dirty, her hair needed washing and cutting. It would have made her dad cry if he saw her look like an old hag.”

Tony asked Alvin about his mother’s cell phone and the mailbox key over the telephone. “I don’t know what we’d learn, or even if we’d learn anything at all, if we find them.”

“Mom wore her key on a chain around her neck. She always said I had to guard my mailbox key. That it was precious. It’s in the ashtray of my truck.”

Tony had not seen a chain or key on Candy’s body. “I presume the truck is parked in front of my aunt’s house?”

“Yessir. It’s okay to drive around town, but I wouldn’t trust driving it for more than five miles at a time.” Alvin sounded amused. “But I only paid fifty dollars for it.”

“Sounds like a bargain.” Tony had been reluctant to call Alvin, but he needed the information he might provide. “May I go get the key?”

“Yes. The truck’s not locked.” Alvin’s voice lowered. “I trust you. I don’t know what happened to Mom’s phones. She has two. I have one. All of our cell phones are the kind where you buy time in advance.”

“Did she usually carry both of them with her?” Tony found their disappearance more suspicious every minute.

“Oh, yeah.” A touch of humor infused Alvin’s voice. “She didn’t go anywhere, not even to the bathroom, without them.”

“Can you describe them?”

“Actually, they looked a lot alike. They were pretty small and flipped closed. One was black and one was black and white.” Alvin fell silent. “She kept them in her jeans pockets. The black and white one she used to contact her drug dealer. She’d call and then drive off and be back in minutes.”

Tony did not like the sound of this. Someone had taken the cell phones. “Do you know the numbers? I might be able to trace them, or at least learn something.”

Alvin rattled off one number. “That’s the one I always called. I don’t know the drug phone’s number.”

Tony wasn’t surprised. He had found nothing easy about Candy’s murder. “Are you enjoying camp, or would you like to return home? I can have someone pick you up.”

“Do you know any more about what happened to my mom?” Alvin dodged Tony’s question.

“No.” Tony wished they would receive the results of the autopsy, or that a clue would turn up to point them in the right direction. Sometimes patience was hard won. “We’re looking into several leads though.”

“Then I’ll stay here.” Alvin’s voice was steady, but he sounded tired. “I feel guilty for having such a good time and learning so much, while . . . well, you know.”

“Believe me when I tell you this,” Tony said and paused, searching for the right words. “There is nothing you could have done to prevent your mother’s death. I do not think sitting around watching and waiting for our investigation to move forward will make you feel better, and from what I’ve learned, your mother had her problems but she wanted you to be happy. She was proud of you.”

As much as he didn’t want to, Tony realized he needed to go out to The Spa and have a chat with the owner, Fast Osborne. The Spa was the short name of a tavern on the highway. It was actually named The Spot, and time had not managed to totally destroy the old sign with the name in faded letters. Even more faded was the paint on the exterior of the long building. Once painted white, now the cinder blocks were mostly their original gray. There had been a painted accent, a huge red spot covering part of the front wall, including the door. Years of neglect had worn away almost all the red paint and now just the faintest mark remained where it had been. Tony didn’t think the interior had been cleaned during the same period of time.

Fast Osborne was the owner and main bartender. He greeted Tony and Wade when they stepped inside by smashing a bug on the dark wooden bar with the bottom of a shot glass. He proceeded to wipe its guts on a dirty towel and put the glass back on the shelf. “Howdy, Sheriff.”

“Afternoon, Fast.” Tony glanced around the room. There was no one inside. He could see plastic tables and chairs outside. A couple of men sat out there drinking beer in the sunlight. It had to be miserably hot, but the air was clean. “Did anyone tell you we found the man we were looking for? The one involved in the pickup and tree incident.”

“That so?” Fast showed zero interest. “You come all the way out here to tell me?”

“No,” Tony said. “I came out here to ask you about Candy Tibbles.”

“Ain’t seen her for a few days.” Fast squinted through the hazy air. “She’s generally one of my best customers, although I got to say, she looks much better in the dark.” He sighed. “She’s kinda let herself go, if you know what I’m sayin’.”

“Does she drink much?” Tony thought they’d start out with a general discussion and work up to the real business.

“Sorta depends on who’s payin’.” Fast seemed to be choosing his words with care. Tony guessed he thought they were investigating a drinking and driving situation and wanted to avoid getting into trouble. “She does drink a fair amount when she has a date, usually likes those sweet drinks like rum and cola. Put an umbrella and a cherry in it, and she’d probably drink antifreeze.”

Tony had no personal experience with this side of Candy’s character, but imagined it was true. “She’s been getting drugs from someone. You have any idea who?”

“Nossir. I know there’s some talk about ’em. I’ve overheard a bit, but I sell booze, not drugs.” Fast launched into a dissertation about how drugs were cutting into his income. “You know, she is one of my best customers, but man—she
is
startin’ to make the place look bad.”

Wade cut Fast’s lecture short. “How about who she dates? A few months ago, we know she was hanging out with a married man.”

Fast appeared to be considering his answer. “Sad to say.” His voice lowered. “I think most of her men friends are married. She’s been absent. You think she’s off shacked up with one of them?”

If Fast hadn’t heard about her death, Tony didn’t think he needed to break the news. “Any one in particular come to mind?”

“Well, she and Stuart, that is Mr. Stuart, was pretty thick for a while. I’m not sure if they is still though. I guess his wife pitched some kinda fit when she found out. He had a shiner, an’ couldn’t open one eye for a couple of weeks. I don’t know what the missus clobbered him with but, I would
not
want to get on that woman’s bad side.”

“Anyone else?”

“Not that comes to mind.” Fast had the reputation of guarding his customers’ secrets, often lying about whether a particular person was in his establishment when someone was asking.

As for Mr. Stuart, Tony knew him. The man had a strong wife and a weak spine. The combination made Tony think he would be interesting to talk to. Even better without his spouse.

Satisfied they had learned all they could expect to, Tony and Wade raced for the fresh air and sunshine.