Law and Author (18 page)

“He had his chance to break some bones back in town the other day, didn't he?”

“Uh-huh. But it was daylight and maybe that was meant to be her last warning. Do you think he had been watching Darla and realized that her staying at Molly's might mean he'd get his money after all? Like in, from Molly?”

“There is that. I'm sure Molly is just crazy enough to have given it to Darla, if she'd asked.”

“Maybe not crazy, just concerned. Darla is Bob's granddaughter, after all.”

“Humpf. I don't know why the two of them, Mopsy and Bob that is, just don't up and move in to together or get married or something.”

“Teensy!” Lizzie couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice but it quickly turned to amusement. “I can't think of a single thing to say to that.”

“No need, sugar. We can all see with our own eyes that those two are tipsy-toeing around that spark that's there between them. Always was, as I recall, even though Molly's mama, as nice a lady as she was, would probably not have approved if they'd started dating back in our youthhood. They traveled in different social classes but Bob was always there, at the periphery, willing to help out Molly if need be.”

“Help out, in what way?” Lizzie had never heard any of this before and she was intrigued.

“Well, there was that time Billy Broder stole Molly's pencil case. That was back in the second grade. Bob got into a little scuffle with Billy and soon that case was returned. Things like that over the years. And then in high school, I think it was sophomore year, before Molly's coming out anyway, she was asked out on a date by Walter Buford, who then bragged about what he planned to do but instead ended up with a black eye, courtesy of Bob.” Teensy chuckled. “Her white knight, even if she didn't know it.”

“Wow. I never realized. I knew they'd known each other since childhood. I just never thought about what that meant. It is rather obvious there's affection there, although who knows where that will lead. If anywhere.”

“Nowhere unless one of them gets off his or her duff and
does something about it. Or, unless they get a little help in that corner.”

“What are you thinking? No, maybe I shouldn't know. Anyway, as charming as that may be we need to focus on what to do next. If you just park over there toward the back, I'll check to see if Eddie is hanging out and trying to keep out of sight.”

“I'm coming with you, young lady.” Teensy shut off the engine and shot out of the car, following Lizzie.

“We'll just pretend we're out for a stroll,” Lizzie said, picking up the pace.

“And when we stroll into him, out back of the community center I might add, which will look sort of strange don't you think? What do we say? Do you have a good plan?”

“I plan to be very honest and up-front with him. Maybe that will impress him or at least surprise him so he answers my questions.”

“Well, it's a plan.”

Lizzie felt all her anticipation evaporate when the back lot turned out to be empty. “Maybe we'll just hang around awhile and see if he appears.”

Teensy looked around the sparse lot. “What was that backup plan?”

“Okay. You're right. There's no place comfortable and we'd be totally in view, so that would probably scare him off if he did come along to conduct some business. Let's cruise on by the Road Rack bar on Dexter Street and see if he's there.”

They bustled back to the car and Teensy shot down the street.

“I think it's best to avoid sudden appearances and speeding tickets when undertaking an action like this,” Lizzie said after a few moments.

“Huh. Oh, yeah. Right.” She slowed to the speed limit and turned onto Dexter. As they passed the bar, Lizzie had a good look at the front and down the side alley.

“I don't see him. But let's park, check inside, and then do a walk around the block.”

“Um, check inside?”

“You're backing out now?”

Teensy shook her head. “No sirree but I just wanted to make sure you'd thought through this plan. It's midafternoon and we're going into a somewhat sleazy bar that probably has a ton of drunks even at this hour of day, without getting hit upon, thrown up on, or tossed out?”

Lizzie smiled. “It will be a cinch.” She stuck her left hand down beside the seat and crossed her fingers. Maybe not her best plan but she needed to find the guy.

*   *   *

“T
his is what Ashton Corners touts as a sleazy bar?” Teensy whispered as they stood just inside the door.

Lizzie breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't near as bad as she'd imagined. The lighting was dim but it didn't give her the creeps. They strolled over to the bar, trying to look nonchalant while Lizzie scoured the room for Eddie Riser. Fortunately, it wasn't as busy as Teensy had predicted and it took less than a minute to determine he wasn't around. She tossed around the idea of asking the bartender but didn't want him to alert Eddie that someone was looking for him. After another minute, she tilted her head toward the door, Teensy nodded, and they left.

“So what now?” Teensy asked when they were back outside, each one looking in the opposite direction, scoping out the street.

Lizzie nodded. “How about we take a quick walk down
the alley? He could be hanging around there, waiting for a buyer.”

“He won't be too happy to see us, in that case.”

“Well, it's either that, wait in the bar a bit, or try again another day.”

Teensy peered around the corner. “Okay. Let's get it over with.”

Lizzie gave her own quick look around, wondering if Bob was somewhere out there watching. And gritting his teeth. If so, she couldn't spot him. He was either very good, as he claimed, or very much not there.

They linked arms and walked briskly to the other end of the alley, easing around overturned garbage cans, avoiding splotches of disgusting things, and trying not to make too much noise.

“Well, another dead end, so to speak,” Teensy said. “That was certainly worse than the bar. I'd say this shorter alley should lead us back onto Dexter, sugar. What say we take it?”

They were back in the car, doors locked, eyeing the lane within a minute.

“I think it's a bust. What say we try it another day?” Teensy asked.

Lizzie was just about to agree when she saw a figure approaching the bar, slouched down, and talking into a cell phone. Even with his ball cap pulled down low over his forehead, she was certain it was Eddie Riser.

“That's him. I think it's him. Yes, it is. Let's go confront him before he heads inside.” She leapt out of the car and tried to walk casually across the street, not wanting to spook Eddie. By the time he looked up, she was next to him. Teensy stood behind her.

“Hi, Eddie. We haven't formally met but I'm Lizzie and
I do some work out of the community center.” She hurried on, not wanting to give him a chance to duck away. “I really need to ask you a question. I hope you don't mind. It won't take but a minute. And it's very important.”

“Yeah? To who?” Eddie asked, sounding more curious than anything.

Up close, he didn't look too scary to Lizzie. His dark hair was clean and pushed back behind his ears, skimming the top of his collar. A nose ring in his left nostril balanced the earring in his right lobe.

His blue eyes were wary and his thick lips looked like they might be in a perpetual pout.

“Well, to me and some of my friends.”

“Are you buying?”

“Information? I hadn't . . . no.”

“No, I mean, are you
buying
?”

“Oh, right. No but that leads right into my question.” He hadn't said no so she took that as a good sign. “Did you know Rafe Shannon?”

Eddie blanched and shoved his cell into his jean pocket. “No.”

Lizzie crossed her arms and assumed her most commanding teacher tone. “That's not the message I'm getting from you?”

“Message? What message? What the f—”

Lizzie held up her hand. “Oh, cut the crap, Eddie. I know you sell drugs but I don't care about that. Well, I do but not at the moment. What I want to know is if Rafe Shannon had any dealings with you and if that's why he came to Ashton Corners.”

“What's it worth to you?”

“Oh, probably not going to the police with all the information I've accumulated about your drug dealings over the
past while. Do you even know how often you turn up at the community center parking lot?” Lizzie was taking a stab in the dark here.

Eddie shifted from one foot to the other. He eyed her speculatively.
Sizing me up
. “Okay. Let's talk a little. Why do you want to know? Is this going to get me into trouble?”

“It shouldn't if you're truthful. I just am trying to help clear a friend of his murder but I need to know why he came to town.”

“Who's this friend?”

Lizzie wondered if she should be mentioning Darla's name but she'd opted for honestly. Well, mostly. “Darla Lyman.”

“The chick from Atlanta? We've got a lot of those folks in town these days.” Eddie stuck out his chin, looking defiant, not a look Lizzie had hoped for. “Yeah, he was here to meet me but I'm not going to tell you why. That's called entrapment or something and how do I know the cops don't have you wired? In fact, maybe I should just frisk you to be sure.” He flashed Lizzie a grin that bordered on a leer and she backed away. Then he laughed and continued talking.

“He saw that Darla. That's her name isn't it? Said he had to have a little chat with her about some money she owed some people back home. That's the last I saw him. We'd set up a meet the next day but he didn't turn up, then I heard the next day that he'd been found dead. Now, that's all I know. And I'm telling you now, if you do go to the police I'm denying everything. Even with your backup there. They won't believe you because I have some very powerful friends who will get very antsy about not being able to make any purchases. Just so's you know.” He folded his arms across his chest.

“Okay,” Lizzie said hesitantly. Could it be true? “Did he tell you about anyone else in town he knew or might be talking to?”

“Give me a break. Why would he tell me anything? That's all I know. Now I'd suggest we end this little meeting because you, ladies, are bad for business.”

Lizzie glanced around and realized a man, his ball cap pulled way down on his forehead to eyebrow level, was leaning against the wall in the alley. “Okay. Thanks, Eddie.”

“Don't mention it, and I mean that.”

Even as I struggled with the emotional aftermath of my decision, that seemed to have quite a bit to recommend it.

HERBIE'S GAME—
TIMOTHY HALLINAN

A
fter Lizzie had been dropped off back home by Teensy, she grabbed her own car and drove to the Winn-Dixie to pick up some groceries, all the while thinking about what they'd learned. She felt pretty sure that Eddie wasn't the killer, because what would it get him? Maybe Rafe wanted to work with him, not compete with him. Maybe as a supplier? Why hadn't she asked? If that were true, Rafe would be competing with someone. Eddie's current supplier. That could be enough to get Rafe killed. She realized this was way out of her league and even if she asked Eddie about his supplier, it was unlikely she'd get anywhere, except maybe a bed in the hospital or even the morgue.

She shuddered and quickly paid for her items, then headed for the police station. Luck would have it that Mark's Jeep
was in the parking lot. She hurried inside and impatiently waited for Mark to finish a phone call before coming out front to get her.

Inside his office, she told him all about Teensy and her meeting with Eddie Riser and then held her breath, waiting for the explosion. It didn't take long.

“You what?”

Lizzie was certain the entire station heard him yelling at her. She tried for a meek smile and reached out to touch his arm.

“Now it's not as bad as it seems, and I'm telling you because I know it's time to back off. That's good, isn't it?”

Mark started pacing, hard to do in his small office. “It's about time but meanwhile, I could be visiting you in the hospital tonight instead of at your place. You do realize that?”

“Yes, but I had Teensy with me.”

“You think one extra woman would make a difference if the bad guys wanted to get rid of you? Lizzie, this is really too much this time. You seem to think this is one of your mystery novels. Well, it's not. The violence is very real and can be very brutal. Eddie Riser isn't a misguided kid who deals drugs but has a heart of gold. He's cold-blooded and he's dealing in death. And I don't say that to be overdramatic. Drugs can lead to an early death for some of the kids that get caught in the trap.”

He clenched his right hand in a fist and hit the open palm of his left hand. “Guys like him should be marked with a Grim Reaper on their foreheads to warn off the unsuspecting. You don't know how many high school kids I see end up in the hospital or even in jail, Lizzie. All hooked on drugs supplied by Riser and others like him. If there's one thing I'd like to accomplish as police chief it's to rid the town of all the scumbags like Eddie Riser. You know what, though,
it's not going to happen. They're like weeds. Pull one out and another takes its place. It's never going to end.”

He went back to his desk and sat down. Lizzie was glad, because she had worried he'd have a heart attack or something.

He took a deep breath and continued in a lower but uncompromising voice, “It's dangerous, Lizzie, and you have no place in it at all. It's a big business and they play rough. Besides, you may have jeopardized an ongoing investigation into Riser's drug dealings.”

He still looked angry, Lizzie thought. She wasn't sure how much of that anger was directed at her, though. She tried to find a positive point. “Well, don't you think this narrows the field down on possible murder suspects? Eddie doesn't really have a motive but his supplier would, if he thought Rafe Shannon was butting into his territory. Couldn't you make Eddie tell you who it is?”

“We're pretty sure we know who it is.”

“You do? And he's still out there supplying drugs?”

“It's a little matter of having enough evidence to arrest him and make it stick, something I already mentioned that you may now have jeopardized.”

“I'm sorry if I did, Mark. Truly I am. I'm just trying to help Darla.”

“And you may have thrown her back into the thick of it. Did you think of that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we know about the gambling now and maybe Shannon did lean on her to get the money, and she cracked and killed him.”

Lizzie sat down hard. “I hadn't thought of that. But women don't usually bludgeon to death their victims, do
they? I'm sure I read that somewhere. They're more likely to use poison. Or a pillow.”

Mark finally grinned. “And how do you think Darla would have gotten Shannon in the position to use either poison or a pillow?”

Lizzie dared to breathe easier. Mark looked more relaxed. The worst had passed. She shrugged, trying to relax her shoulders and reduce her tension. “My point exactly. Darla is not the killer.”

Mark grimaced, then glanced at the phone. He let out a long sigh. “I have some more calls to make before a lunch meeting.”

“My cue to exit.” She sprang out of the chair, anxious to get out of the office and have this conversation put to rest.

“And Lizzie . . .”

She held off opening the door and turned back to him. “Yes?”

“The Eddie Riser I know would not tell the truth if his life depended on it. He's not your reliable source of information. Stay away from him.”

“Got it.” She hesitated before asking. “See you later?”

“You can bet on it. And just one more thing,” Mark said.

Uh-oh.

“Your sleuthing days are over. Right?”

She nodded. “I'm totally staying away from all things drug related.”

Mark sighed. “Somehow I think you're avoiding the point. But I'll settle for that right now.” He got up and walked over, leaning behind her to open the door for her.

On the drive home, Lizzie pondered the fact that she'd managed to flip things over and point the finger once again at Darla.

Not good. She'd have to do something about that.

*   *   *

S
he was headed home when she suddenly decided to veer right and cross over to Highway 2, in the opposite direction from the Mountain View Motel, and take a drive. She tried to put her brain on hold as she made her way about eight miles out of town to a small, grassy clearing beside the river. There was room for about four cars to park and no one was there. She sighed in relief. She just wanted some time alone to think things through. What Mark had said had truly shaken her. Not only the part about being in real danger but also the fact that she'd never seen him quite so mad at her, and that had scared her.

She turned off the motor and got out, taking time to stretch and suck in a deep breath. Already she felt the knots in her shoulders loosening. She walked over to a wooden bench facing the river and tucked behind some bushes that gave it some privacy from the road and passing traffic.

She sat and stared for a few minutes, trying for a while longer without any turbulence in her mind but finally, she focused on the thought that every now and then burst onto the scene to plague her. What if Mark realized she was more trouble than the relationship was worth? She knew she was being childish, but she had this deep-down fear that someday it would be over, and he'd leave her and not look back.

She wasn't one given to analyzing any situation too closely, not a personal one anyway. What did it matter if she had an irrational fear of being left because her daddy died while she was at a formative age? That's something she had read once, had thought about, and then decided it didn't really matter. She had to deal with each situation as it came up and decide what was relevant. The past wasn't, in her opinion. However, she did have to admit that, over the years,
she'd had trouble letting men get close to her. Of course, none of them had felt like Mr. Right.

And she had to admit, maybe that was why she'd never come right out and told Mark that she loved him. When she'd first realized it, she'd been overwhelmed and filled with joy. That would have been the time to tell him. But she hadn't been sure he felt the same way. In fact, it had taken him a long time to tell her just how he felt. And at that moment, she felt it lessened what she meant if she answered right back.

She gave herself a mental head slap. Now she felt she was just overanalyzing everything. Something she said she never did.

She threw up her hands and watched two ducks waddling, one behind the other, along the water's edge, oblivious to their frazzled neighbor
. Get a grip. Focus on the murder.

Go back to the beginning of the story, just as if reading a novel. Darla arrives in town, obviously in need of a place to stay and also some money.

Lizzie notices Rafe Shannon accosting Darla in town. They argue and Darla breaks away.

Rafe Shannon's body is found in Molly's backyard. His car is parked on the street, so he obviously drove himself there. But why? To confront Darla again?

Darla is questioned about the murder and released.

Wade Morris turns up in town and convinces Darla to move back into the motel with him.

Lizzie notices Wade talking to drug dealer Eddie Riser behind the community center.

Wade beats on Darla, who then moves back in with Molly.

Teensy comes back from Atlanta with news about Darla's gambling debts. Rafe did some collections for casinos and bookies. Did he follow her to town?

Eddie Riser sort of admits Rafe Shannon wanted to do some business involving drugs with him.

Okay, that was it. The plot points. Now, to fill the rest in. Who were the possible suspects? Darla had to be on the list but not a serious contender, even with Mark's most recent conjecture. Eddie Riser was on it, since he'd had contact with Rafe, but also not a probable killer. Eddie's current supplier, very possible if Rafe had wanted to butt in but his identity was unknown, except to the police. So leave it with them. Yes. No.

The question about what Rafe had been doing at Molly's was in no way explained. And, the only other person in the story at this point was Wade Morris.

Could he be part of the plot? But how? He didn't arrive until after the murder. Or did he? Was that the reason Darla hadn't given up her room at the motel? But what would be his motive to kill Shannon?

Lizzie heard a car pull into the parking area and knew it was time to go. Her thinking time was over. Good decision as she was almost run down by three kids stampeding to the river's edge, followed by a haggard-looking mama. By the time she reached her house, she'd decided to concentrate on making sure she was ready for the start of school, still another week off, but she knew if she left it too long, it would then become a chore. She had a workshop for the teachers all ready to go but she still had a couple of assignments from her Tuesday evening literacy class to mark. A tall iced tea and a garden chair would make the perfect setting for that.

As she rounded the corner onto her street, she saw Sally-Jo getting back into her silver Kia Rio parked on the street in front of Lizzie's house. Lizzie honked the horn and pulled into the driveway. By the time she was out of the car, Sally-Jo had run over and gave her a big hug.

“Hey, Sally-Jo, you're back. It's so good to see you,” Lizzie said.

“Yeah, well I changed my mind again and hopped on a
plane this morning. I stopped by on a whim and was disappointed when you were out. I'm just bursting to talk about the wedding plans, no surprise there.”

“Come on. We'll grab something cold to drink and gab in the backyard. How did everything go overall? You were pretty silent the last couple of days.”

“I was into some heavy-duty negotiations with my mama.”

“And?”

“And, I'll show you a photo of my dress when we get all comfy.”

Lizzie unlocked the back door and went inside to get the drinks while Sally-Jo pulled two wicker chairs close to each other.

“Now talk,” Lizzie ordered, handing over a frosted glass of iced tea.

Sally-Jo pulled out her phone and flashed a photo of her wedding dress at Lizzie.

“Wow, that's the one you wanted. It's so perfect for you. Did you really talk your mama into it?”

“I sure did. Well, rather we bargained. I got my dress and mama gets to choose the menu.”

“And you feel what about that?”

Sally-Jo shrugged. “I guess it's okay. I mean, I really, really wanted this dress and Mama's a good cook and really knows her food, so I think she'll probably choose something that works. I hope so anyway. Jacob, bless his soul, just smiles whenever I say anything about the wedding these days.”

“Self-preservation.”

Sally-Jo nodded. “Exactly. Now, if I can enjoy this last week before school starts in relative peace and quiet, I'll be a happy woman. Too much histrionics for one week.”

Lizzie grinned. “Your mama can certainly put on a good show.”

“Yeah. Lucky me. So tell me, what's been happening here? Is the murderer caught and behind bars?”

“No such luck. In fact, I really don't know how close Mark is to finding out who did it.”