Death By Chocolate 6 (Mystery and Women Sleuths) (Josiah Reynolds Mysteries) (9 page)

The next morning I got up early and let Baby with his pet cats outside to tinkle. Stumbling into the kitchen, I got Baby’s breakfast ready while making a pot of tea. I just never developed a taste for coffee.

After putting Baby’s food outside on the patio where he would share with his kitty cats, I went back to bed with a mug of hot tea laced with honey. After taking a few sips, I rolled over in bed and fell back asleep.

Unfortunately, it was not a restful sleep. I drifted into a recurring dream of O’nan pulling me off the cliff behind the Butterfly. The trauma always stayed with me. I would never get over the feeling of free-falling in space, reaching for anything that would belay my fall.

I could never parachute out of a plane or bungee jump off a bridge. I would never thumb my nose at gravity like others do. I appreciate Newton’s law very much, thank you. I’m not that brave . . . or that stupid. Just thinking of it gives my stomach a queer ache.

My stomach had retained that same queer ache since Asa had played the tape of O’nan and Neff conspiring at Al’s Bar.

Would O’nan never leave me alone?

How I wish to God I had never turned his name in for cheating on a test. Yes, I fib here and there, but there are some rules you don’t cross and academic truthfulness is one.

But this thought keeps crossing my mind.

Did I really ruin O’nan’s life? Or was I one of the few that put a STOP sign on his many cheats in life? Did he always hate me, or did seeing me again trigger some deep miasma that was below the surface just waiting to erupt?

I guess I would only know for sure when I met my Maker.

And I had the strong premonition that if O’nan had his way, it would be soon.

“Jeez, what happened to you, buddy-boy?”

“Asa Reynolds caught up with me. That’s what happened.”

O’nan pointed at Neff’s swollen nose and black eyes. “She do that to ya?”

“I did it to myself while trying to run away from her. I tripped. You can say a car hood got between me and the ground. When I woke up, I was in an emergency room with a thousand dollars in my pocket with a note that the money was for the hospital bill. The car you loaned me was in the parking lot. Here are the keys.”

O’nan quit smirking. “Whaddya doing?”

“Josiah and Asa Reynolds may be many things, but they’re no cheats and they take whatever comes on the chin. No whining. Okay, Josiah whines a bit but stops there.

“Asa could have left me in a ditch somewhere with a bullet hole in my head but she took me to a hospital instead and even left money to pay for the bill.” Neff held out the money. “I walked out, bandaged myself and then came here.”

Neff stepped closer while fingering the gun in his coat pocket . . . just in case O’nan tried something funny. “I’m done.”

“We had a deal.”

“Look, you stupid bastard, I don’t want to do anything that hurts Josiah. I must have been out of my head with jealousy but I’m thinking straight now.” Neff flung the car keys at O’nan.

“You can’t walk out on me.”

“Asa Reynolds has tapes of us talking at Al’s Bar. I’m not going to prison for you, buddy-boy,” sneered Neff. “You want Josiah Reynolds, then get her yourself.”

Neff started to walk away, but stopped and turned. “I’ll give you a piece of advice since you’re so thick-skulled. If you want to get Josiah Reynolds, you’ll have to take out Asa Reynolds first. Otherwise that daughter of hers will hunt you down until the end of her days.” Neff laughed. “But the point is moot ’cause you couldn’t take down a rabbit let alone those two broads. They’re too tough.”

Neff tugged at his coat collar against the cold wind. “Yep. I’d say those two are damned near invincible.”

Laughing, Neff walked into the dark, leaving O’nan standing seething under a streetlight.

I was wrapping Christmas presents when Matt dragged the artificial tree out from its cupboard and began putting it together.

“With all the pine trees on this farm, we have this hideous aluminum job instead of a real Christmas tree.”

“That tree is from the ’50s and was my mother’s,” I reminded Matt.

He began assembling the motorized wheel that flashed four different colors onto the tree. “This thing belongs in a museum.”

“And what a treat it is that we have it to ourselves.”

Asa strode into the room. “That ugly thing again? Why can’t we have a real Christmas tree instead of that ratty old thing?”

“I beg your pardon, little missy. My mother’s tree is in mint condition. Matt, if you want a pine tree in your house, cut down anything on the farm you want. I’ve got plenty of ornaments you can use.”

“Nah. Don’t have the room. Besides, I like to complain about this tree. It’s become a holiday tradition.”

Franklin walked in from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn. “I think it looks scrumptious. It’s so mid-century. It’s perfect for the Butterfly.” He looked anxiously at the wrapped presents. “Are any of those for me? I hope. I hope. I hope. I hope.”

I pushed one with my toe. “That one might have your name on it.”

Franklin rushed to pick it up but Asa beat him to it.

She gave it a quick rattle.

“Stop it!” cried Franklin as he grabbed the package away from her. “You might break something.”

Asa gave a short laugh. “I already know what it is and it’s not breakable.”

“Oh,” pouted Franklin. “I was hoping it was a crystal bowl to match the vase I snatched from your mother. She knows how much I love that pattern. Waterford, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is and I want that vase back, Franklin,” I complained as I fastened a bow to a superbly wrapped gift. The Japanese have nothing on me when it comes to beautifully wrapped gifts.

Franklin made a face. “We shall see.”

“I’m done with my Christmas shopping. That was the last gift to wrap.” I wiggled a little fanny jig in my chair.

“I haven’t even started,” moaned Asa.

“You don’t need to get me anything, dear,” I remarked.

“She says that every year and one year I actually believed her. I didn’t get her a present,” divulged Asa, grabbing a fist full of popcorn.

“Let me guess,” drawled Matt. “She had a fit.”

“Oh, you would have thought the Rapture had come and she’d missed it,” laughed Asa. “I have never felt so guilty in my life. I’m still not over the trauma.”

“I don’t see how you could not get your only mother a Christmas gift,” I remarked.

Asa threw up her hands. “See what I mean.”

Matt started putting presents under the silver aluminum tree. “I think it has to do with your saying you didn’t want anything.”

“No one really means it when they say that. It’s just what mothers do to look self-sacrificing. It’s part of our shtick. But what we really want is for the children to make a big fuss. After the child is twenty-one, it’s the parents who should get a little attention at Christmas,” I admonished, glaring at Asa.

“Are we invited for Christmas dinner?” asked Franklin as he put away the wrapping paper and ribbons. “I’m not going home this year.”

“Asa and I are going to the Big House for Christmas dinner. How about Christmas breakfast? We can eat and then open our presents.”

“I guess that will have to do,” whined Franklin.

“I’m inviting you all to my house for Christmas Eve. I’ll have something edible and lots of champagne to make it go down if it’s not,” said Matt.

“Sounds great. Love to,” I replied.

I noticed Asa studying my face. Her expression was soft as she came over and gave me a hug. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Thanks for what?”

She shrugged. “For just making it. For not dying on me. For not giving up.”

“I wouldn’t think of it.”

“Last Christmas you could barely walk or even talk. Now look at you.”

“I didn’t ever think I would want to live after that accident. The pain was so horrible, but I am here because of you, Asa.” I looked at the three of them. “You all are so dear to me. Even you, Baby. Would someone get his big head out of the popcorn bowl?”

Matt held up his Coke can. “Here’s to Josiah. Hoping for a pain free year.”

“Hear. Hear,” rejoined Franklin. He then stepped back to let Asa pass and inadvertently tripped over one of Baby’s kitty cats, falling into the Christmas tree and knocking it over.

Rattled and gasping for air, Franklin reached for his Christmas gift and shook it close to his ear. “Ahhh, it’s rattling now, Asa.”

“That was an antique water bowl that had been part of the Lincoln estate,” I wailed.

“Oh, no!” lamented Franklin. “What rotten luck.” Downcast, he slumped on the couch, almost reduced to tears.

This is where I’m a stinker.

Franklin is a notorious gift hound. He likes to open his gifts when no one is around and then rewrap them. His real present was hidden in my closet while he was shaking a broken cheap candy dish, which I had planted as a decoy.

He looked so disheartened, I was tempted to tell him that he still had something special coming. But the temptation came and went.

After all, he stole my Waterford vase and if he was going to keep it, then Franklin was going to have to pay for it . . . with his misery.

I’m sure Jesus would never act this way, but then Jesus doesn’t have to put up with Franklin on a daily basis.

I do.

Taking a deep breath, I dialed the number Dwight’s secretary, Amanda, had given me for Susie Brinkman. To my surprise, I heard a cheerful “Hello?” on the other end.

“Hi, my name is Josiah Reynolds. I’m calling for the Dwight Wheelwright estate. Is this Susie Brinkman?”

“Wheelwright estate? Has something happened to Dwight? Oh God, no!” rushed the voice on the other end.

“Ms. Brinkman?”

“Yes, this is Susie. Has something happened to Dwight?”

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but Dwight has been missing for almost six months. Do you know where he is?”

There was a long silence on the phone.

“Ms. Brinkman. We are trying to talk to anyone that had a connection with Dwight. I understand that you worked with him.”

I paused. “Farley Webb suggested that you were close to Dwight and that he might be living in Houston. If you could shed light on this, his family would be most grateful. All they want to know is if Dwight’s alive. No one will bother him . . . or you. Ms. Brinkman? Ms. Brinkman!”

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Uhmmm. I’m at home.”

“No, where are you calling from? What city?”

“Lexington,” I told her.

“I’m at the Bluegrass Airport on a stopover for New York. Can you meet me here?”

I was so stunned that Susie was in Lexington that I was taken aback for a second. “Yes, I can be there in forty-five minutes.”

“My plane leaves shortly after that. If you want to talk, you’d better hurry. I am wearing a grey pantsuit with a white silk top. I’ll be in the downstairs lounge.”

“Yes. Yes. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Please don’t leave until I talk with you. Goodbye.” I rushed to find my city cane, car keys and purse. “Baby, get out of the way!”

Slamming the door behind me, I gave it a tug, making sure it was locked. Rushing only made my limp more exaggerated. It was ugly to witness but I had no choice. I had to get to the Bluegrass Airport and pronto!!!

I burned rubber, honey, and made it to the airport in record time. Swerving into a handicapped parking space, I was only fifty feet from the front doors.

Hurrying inside, I went to the lounge, which was packed with holiday travelers, and strained my neck looking for a grey pantsuit.

A pretty young blond thing waved at me. As I approached the table, she stood motioning to the waitress. “Do you want anything?”

I was breathing heavily and ordered a Coke. Coke always seems to help my asthma.

She waited for me to collect myself but kept looking at her watch. “I’m sorry. Your name again?”

“Just call me Josiah.”

“I’ve got very little time. Let’s hurry this along. You are telling me that Dwight is missing?”

“He went on a fishing trip in early July and never came home.”

Tears welled in Susie’s eyes at the mention of Dwight. She pulled a handkerchief from her purse and began dabbing her eyes. “So that’s what happened. I always wondered.”

I looked at Susie dumbfounded. “Are you telling me that Dwight is not with you?”

Susie shook her blond head. “Has everything been done to find him?”

“Yes.”

“Does Selena think he’s dead?”

“No,” I replied, watching her closely. “She thinks he is with you, but she is pretending that he is missing.”

She began to softly cry in earnest. Her shoulders shook. “I’m sorry. It’s a shock to hear this, but I always wondered what had happened. I thought he had decided to stay with Selena. I called and called his cell phone, but he never picked up. Dwight didn’t like confrontations and I thought he didn’t want to tell me . . . oh well, it doesn’t matter now.” She looked up at me. “This is terrible, but oddly I feel better about the situation now.”

“Are you telling me that you and Dwight had a thing going on?”

Susie nodded and looked at me over her tear-soaked handkerchief. “We fell in love. Oh, Dwight had a horrible time with it. He loved Selena, but he was in love with me. We weren’t on the make, you know. It happened innocently.”

“Was Dwight to meet you in Houston?”

“Yes. Dwight finally made the decision to leave Selena. He was going to tell her in June but then she invited people for this huge birthday party before he could. Dwight decided to wait until after the party so as not to embarrass Selena in front of all their friends.”

“I thought the party was his mother’s idea.”

“Oh, no. It was Selena’s.”

“Do you think she knew about the two of you and was trying to postpone the inevitable?” I asked.

“I don’t know. We were very discreet, but I think Dwight told Farley about us when he took the money.”

“The two hundred thousand dollars?” I asked, fishing.

“Yes. It was a down payment on Farley buying out Dwight. The rest of it was to be paid on a monthly installment for the next two years.”

I sat back in my chair. “Really?”

Susie nodded. “I went ahead to Houston with the belief that Dwight would follow me as soon as he told Selena and straightened out his business affairs. It was to take only a week or so. He called me every day until July first. After that, I never heard from him again. I just thought he had a change of heart. I never dreamed that something had happened to him.”

“Why Houston?”

“My family is there.”

“May I ask why you are going to New York?”

“Business. Just for a day or two.”

Susie looked at her watch. “I really must go. I have to go through security again, but I’m glad I talked with you. Will you please contact me if something comes up? I need to know.”

“Yes. I promise,” I offered, watching her leave.

She wasn’t pulling a suitcase.

I sat at the table nursing my Coke, studying on what she had said when I realized the waitress had handed me the tab. “Well, that little fart,” I complained. “She stuck me with the bill for her drinks.”

And I had left my purse in the car.

Great!