Checkered Past (A Laurel London Mystery Book 2) (9 page)

BOOK: Checkered Past (A Laurel London Mystery Book 2)
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He stepped in. His eyes landed on Trixie. The fear and sadness hung around the corner of her eyes.

“I’m sorry about Sally, Trixie.” Jax hugged her.

Everyone in town knew Trixie took pride in Sally Bent’s adoption with a local family and how she had made something of herself by being an employee of the bank.

“It looks like you started drowning your feelings?” He pointed over Trixie’s shoulder to the flask and the drinks on the table.

“I. . .um. . .” I gulped. “I had to take the edge off.”

Trixie unfolded from Jax’s arms and he walked over to the table; I beat him and grabbed the flask.

“Want some?” I put my lips up to the hole and threw my head back. “Ahh.” I used my forearm to swipe my mouth clean of any drips.

“No thanks,” he said. His eyes lowered, his jaw tensed.

I was aware he was watching me. Again, I had seen enough crime TV to know people in the police field are trained to watch everyone’s actions and Jax was good at reading mine. He had been since the first day we met.

“Tell me what is going on.” I prompted a new conversation.

“Eric had a meeting with some agents about the breakout. I went back to the office and there was a phone call from Sally Bent. She said she had contacted the police, but wanted my help because someone had stolen her car.” He shrugged. “Instantly I thought about Willie Bowman because he would have been here with Sally.” He took a notepad out of his pocket and sat in the chair that was occupied by Willie only moments ago. “I went down to the bank to get the details and try to get some leads and I walked into a crime scene.”

“Oh my, God.” Trixie’s hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes dipped in the corners. “Poor Sally.”

“I called Derek Smitherman, who happens to be on vacation, so they sent some other kid who then did call Smitherman.” Jax looked at the glass in front of him. I tried not to make any facial expressions. Jax picked up the cup, smelled it, and sat it back down. “I called Eric. He got there and a few of the other agents showed up. They found Pepper in the vault and took the camera feed.”

“Pepper was okay?” I asked.

Trixie muttered a few prayers under her breath before she disappeared into the other room.

“Yeah, she said the guy came in with a mask and gun. He shoved her and Sally in the vault, tied her up. The entire time Sally was screaming and mentioned Willie’s name. He shot her right there.” He read from his notepad.

“Oh my God.” I couldn’t imagine how Pepper was dealing with it.

“He tied her up, took money and was gone.” He shook his head. “Agents are all over Walnut Grove. They have all the roads in and out of town blocked.”

“What time was this?” I asked.

He looked at his pad. “About an hour ago.”

“Hmm.” I looked at my phone.

It definitely wasn’t Willie. An hour ago, we were playing cat and mouse at Lucky Strikes before he led me on the wild goose chase back to my house. Willie was right. Someone knew he was in town and they were framing him.

“I have a few questions, but I’ll ask when Trixie is up to it.” He stood up. “I can tell she needs some time. Maybe I’ll be back to see her tomorrow.”

“Good idea.” I smiled. “Will I see you tonight?” I asked, referring to our bowling league night.

“Wouldn’t miss it, especially now this has happened.” He put the notepad back in his pocket. “You never know, you get some beer or whiskey,” he pointed to the flask, “in people and they start talking.”

“What better place than bowling night?” I laughed and ignored his flask comment. He was fishing and I wasn’t biting.

We headed out the screen door. It slammed behind us.

“You would tell me if Willie tried to get in touch with you,” Jax’s voice was stern. His hand reached out and touched my arm.

“Of course,” I lied and ignored the spark from his fingers. I followed him to his Buick.

“Have you had company?” Jax pointed back toward the house.

“No.” I shook my head and swallowed.

He bent down and looked at the dirt driveway. “You have some tire tracks here and they look like the tires on Sally Bent’s car.”

“I just got here and Trixie didn’t say anything.” My shoulders lifted.

“Where have you been?” he asked. His tone was less curious; it was more interrogating.

“I . . .I took the Belvedere by Derek’s shop to make sure it was all good since he is on vacation.” My smile settled into a thin line.

“Huh.” He opened the door of his car. “What if we grab a bite to eat before bowling?”

“Sure.” My heart jumped despite all the crap happening around us.

Was he asking me on a date?

“I’ll even pay.” He put his aviator sunglasses on and got in the car.

I gave him a slight wave and stood there watching his taillights disappear into the distance.

“You’ve got some decision making to do.” Trixie stood on the porch. A glass of sweet tea dangling from her fingertips. She didn’t tell me what she meant. I knew.

Who was I going to help? Jax or Willie?

Jax was the stable one. He had a real job. A real career. Sexy. Only there was no past. Could he be my future?

Willie was a different story. I knew him. He was the bad boy my soul craved. He gave me excitement in more ways than one. Was he really framed? Did I owe it to him to find out?

The questions danced in my brain. There had to be answers to both Jax and Willie’s questions.

“What are you going to do?” Trixie cocked a brow.

“I don’t know.” I hesitated, blinking with bafflement. “Willie isn’t going to go down without a fight.” I bit my lip and walked up the steps of the porch. “Maybe I should check out some things before I turn him into Jax. See if he really is innocent.”

I couldn’t believe those words were coming out of my mouth.

Trixie grinned. “After all these years, Willie Bowman still has your goat.”

Slowly she turned and moseyed back into the house and I followed.

“That’s not fair to say.” I stopped shy of the family room. The TV was blaring Alien Files on SyFy. “Willie is a lot of things, but he isn’t a liar. If he did rob the bank, he wouldn’t have tried so hard to escape and get to me to help him.”

“Poor Sally.” Trixie shook her head like she was trying to shake the fact Sally was dead. “There is no way Willie killed her. No way.”

“That’s right. And it proves someone knew she had helped Willie.” I pondered my own revelation and watched Trixie put her tin foil hat on top of her head before she sat down in her La-Z-Boy rocker.

She believed every show on the SyFy channel. Aliens were coming to take over and the tin foil would keep them from sucking out her brain—so she thought.

“I’ve got to go.” I pointed to Henrietta who was cleaning herself on the sill of the window. “Can you dump a can of tuna in Henrietta’s bowl for me?”

“You aren’t going anywhere until you tell me exactly what Willie was talking about.” Trixie adjusted the foil on her head. She patted it down, molded it and wrapped a piece around each ear. “The altar thingy.”

I walked out of the family room and grabbed my bag off the hook by the front door.

“He said he didn’t rob the bank, but you and I both know what the
Walnut Grove Journal
said.” I hollered in her direction. I knew what Trixie was asking, but I played stupid so I could get out of there.

“Not so fast young lady,” Trixie moseyed into the hall. She pushed her eyeglasses up on her nose and took a good, long look at me. “He said altar.”

I took a deep, really deep breath.

“Yeah. About that.” I ran my hand through my hair and looked down at my feet.

“Yeah. About that,” she mocked. “My show can wait. I’ve got it on DVR.”

Since we moved to the orphanage, Trixie got satellite and it came with a fancy box where she could record all her shows as she watched them, only to watch them again to make her even crazier about the aliens.

“Were you going to run off with that boy the day you got caught skipping school?” she asked, leaning on the crown molding of the opening to the family room. She folded her arms.

“It never happened so why are we bringing it up?” I asked.

“Because, if it would’ve happened, you would have lost all of your money from your grandfather.” She pointed a finger at me and shook it before she poked herself in the chest. “I was responsible for you and if I would’ve let you run off, The Gorilla would’ve killed me. Not to mention nine months later a baby hanging off your seventeen-year-old hips.”

She put her hand to her heart.

“To think,” she held her fingers an inch apart. “I almost came this close to death. And it didn’t have anything to do with aliens.”

“Why do you think of these things?” I huffed. “We didn’t elope. There has been no baby in this body nor ever touched this hip. You didn’t get offed by my mobster grandfather. We didn’t lose the money. And we aren’t spending the money. And aliens weren’t involved at all.”

I sucked in a deep breath. The past was in the past and I had to focus on the future. The immediate future and what I was going to do to see if Willie Ray was telling the truth.

“Please feed Henrietta while I’m gone.” I flung the door open and slammed it behind me.

My Drive Me app beeped with the sound of a honking car horn, signaling me I had a new client. When I got into the Old Girl, I dug deep in my bag, pulling out the leather tobacco pouch and the phone.

“Oh Willie,” I sighed, rubbing the pouch. The phone honked again.

I pressed all the buttons to get to the name of the client. It was Curly Dean. Curiosity pinged me. Why would Curly need a ride? She had the wagon. I hit the confirm button and turned the car on.

Ben Bassman was right. The back road into Walnut Grove was filled with federal agents. They eyed me when I drove by. I kept my grip on the wheel and my eyes forward until I saw Eric.

It looked like he had a map on the hood of a car. Several men in blue uniforms, machine guns strapped around their body, leaned over the hood looking at whatever it was Eric was pointing to.

If Eric thought looking at a map of Walnut Grove was going to give him the entire lay of the many nooks and crannies in the small town where Willie could possibly be hiding, he had another thing coming to him. Willie Ray knew these woods like the back of his hand.

All of us orphans did. We spent half of our life threatening Trixie we were running away unless she changed the food menu or lessened our chores. The woods were our solace until the darkness enveloped the sanctuary, scaring us into going back to the orphanage. Not Willie. He loved hanging out under the stars and he knew where to hide.

I eased on by, but not without Eric looking up and following my car with his eyes.

I headed down Main Street passing the Gas-N-Go where there were a mess of agents. They were probably picking up snacks for their big trek to scour the woods. Even The Cracked Egg looked busy and it was still an hour away from suppertime. I took a right on Second Street and pulled into the parking lot of the old Phone Shop where Curly was planning on opening her new flower shop.

Her old Ford wood-paneled wagon and airbus took up most of the parking lot. Charlie Haskel walked out of the airbus with an armful of black-eyed Susan. His gaze slid toward me. Curly stood outside of the shop with her foot acting as a doorstop. She mouthed and pointed something to Charlie; her cigarette bounced up and down from the corner of her lip with each word.

I grabbed my phone and scrolled to the Drive Me app. I hit the time button to show I had made it to my client. The button automatically took the payment the client posted when booking my time. The phone dinged, letting me know the payment went through.

Curly walked over. Her hairline was doused in sweat. She lifted the edge of her shirt to wipe her brow.

“Damn,” she took a long draw from her cigarette. Smoke puffed out her nose as she talked. “It’s so damn hot out here, my chickens are laying hard-boiled eggs.”

“Yeah.” I opened the door and got out. “I’m a bit confused to why I’m here and why I need to drive you.”

Her eyes shifted to the left and to the right. She threw her cigarette on the ground and stepped on it. She nodded her head for me to follow her.

The air-conditioned shop felt so good. Curly had completely changed the inside of the Phone Shop. She took out the many phone display tables and replaced the back wall with floral refrigerators. In front of them was an old barn wood table with all sorts of cutting tools, vases, and other things I didn’t know.

Charlie was busy filling vases with water and sticking the black-eyed Susans in them before putting them in the refrigerator.

“Charlie your employee?” I asked.

“He needed a job.” She waited until he walked out the door. “You may not believe this, but I have a soft spot.”

“You need the help since Bo died,” I corrected her.

“True.” She shrugged.

“So, where do I need to take you?” I asked.

“I don’t need to go anywhere.” She tipped her head. The lines on her tanned face deepened. She lowered her voice, “I’ve got Willie Bowman staying at my house. Sally Bent’s car is in my barn.”

“What?” I shrieked.

“Now I know I play a mean game of hard ass, but Willie helped me and Bo out several times when he was a kid.” Her words echoed in my head. “That is the beef with me and Trixie. She found out he had been helping us with tobacco and he started smoking. It pissed her off. She’s held it against me all these years. Willie had us pay him in vegetables. He said Trixie could use them to feed the orphans.”

None of this made sense to me. Willie never told me about the Deans and helping them. He always claimed he stole the food.

“That’s in the past.” She waved her hand. “Bo and I would go visit Willie when he was in jail. He was like the son we never had. Sometimes Sally would go with us. There is no way he killed her. No way.”

Why didn’t Willie tell me about his relationship between him and the Deans?

Now wasn’t the time to ask Curly about Willie’s relationship with Sally. She told me more about the visits and how Sally was trying to look into Willie’s claim he was framed.

“The FBI doesn’t care about finding out the truth.” Her voice hardened. “They only want to fry Willie for killing that agent, though I’m convinced he didn’t pull the trigger.”

BOOK: Checkered Past (A Laurel London Mystery Book 2)
11.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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