Law and Author (19 page)

“Well, what about the gang? I know you haven't all been sitting on your hands. Any leads?”

“I thought we had a good one. In fact, Teensy and I had a talk with him this morning and then Mark read me the riot act.”

“Ouch. Who is this guy?”

Lizzie filled her in on what they'd learned and who they had approached the past week. When she'd finished, Sally-Jo sat still, saying nothing.

“What do you think?” Lizzie finally asked.

“I'm processing.”

Lizzie watched her with growing impatience and was just about to ask her again when Sally-Jo looked at her and said, “Well, have you asked Darla about all this?”

“I haven't had a chance, not with everything that's been happening.”

“I think that's gotta be the next step, don't you?”

“You're right. I'm just not sure how to go about it. I feel like I'm staging every confrontation, deciding who gets to go where. I don't want Molly to hear me questioning Darla in case anything really negative or illegal comes out. And Teensy is so set against Darla and how she's manipulating Molly to get money out of her, that she doesn't qualify as an unbiased observer.” Lizzie looked straight at Sally-Jo. “You do, though.”

“Right on. I'm anxious to get into the fray now that things are settling down in my life. I hope.” She held up her hand and crossed her fingers. “Where do you think we'll find Darla? At Molly's?”

“Probably. She's been lying low since the beating, afraid
she'll run into Wade, although I'd bet she'd go back to him in a heartbeat.”

“Uh-oh. That's bad news.”

They finished their drinks in silence. “Ready?” Lizzie asked.

Sally-Jo nodded. “Let me drive. Now how are we going to do this? Good cop, bad cop?”

Lizzie bit back a smile. Sally-Jo sounded so serious she didn't want to offend her. “I think we'll both be good cops and maybe that way she'll open up to us. One of the girls. Nice and sympathetic.”

“Sounds good.”

Sally-Jo kept up a flow of dialogue on all she'd done back home in Fort Myers, which turned out to be more than just shopping for a bridal gown. One of her sisters, Meg, had come home too, so they got caught up on each other's lives and revisited a lot of their childhood haunts. “Of course, it helped that Meg was on my side about the dress,” Sally-Jo admitted as she pulled into Molly's driveway.

They tried knocking on the front door but didn't get a response, so they walked around to the backyard. No one answered when they banged on that door either.

Sally-Jo glanced at Lizzie. “You could use your key.”

“Ugh, I feel odd doing that if Darla doesn't want to talk to us.”

“She may not be here. Maybe she's out with Molly somewhere.”

“In that case, I have no reason to go into the house.”

“But you'll never know unless you go into the house.”

They heard a car door slam out front. As they rounded the side of the house, Molly was just letting herself inside. She glanced over at them.

“Were you looking for me or Darla?”

“Well, both,” said Lizzie, feeling a bit guilty.

“She should be here. I just went over to Blanchard's Deli to pick up some salads for supper tonight. Come on in, girls. Sally-Jo, it's nice to have you back. How are things with your mama?”

Sally-Jo went through her explanation as they entered the house. Lizzie glanced up the staircase, wondering if Darla would come down and join them.

Molly followed her glance and called out again. After waiting a minute with no answer, Molly said, “Why don't you girls just go and pour us all some tea. I'll just go upstairs and see what Darla is up to.”

Lizzie led the way and was just pouring out three glasses when Molly came in. “There's no sign of her and what's worse, her clothes are gone.”

“You don't think she's run away?” Sally-Jo asked.

Lizzie shook her head. “I'll bet she's back with Wade.”

Molly let out a gasp. “I didn't see that coming but you're probably right. Isn't that what abused women do? Go back to their man when given the opportunity?”

“It may not have been voluntary. Wade may have waited for you to leave and then strong-armed her into going with him. I think I should call Mark.”

Molly nodded. “That's probably a good idea. I don't want Bob going over there. No telling what he might do.”

Lizzie picked up the phone and dialed the station. She was put right through. After explaining the situation, she listened awhile and then agreed. After she'd hung up, she explained to the others, “Mark will stop by but if Darla is okay, he can't force her to leave. He will warn Wade, though, that any new mark on her and he'll be in jail faster than a hot knife through butter, according to Mark.” Lizzie smiled. She got a kick out of his reverting to some of the phrases she'd heard her daddy use.

“Oh, dear. I guess that will have to do. I'd like to try talking to her, though. She needs to have some sense drummed into that head of hers. I'm sure it's just a matter of time before he beats on her again,” Molly said, wringing her hands.

Lizzie took hold of her arm and led her to a chair at the banquette. “Sit. Now, take a sip and try to relax. I'd say she's safe for now anyway. Wade won't try anything with Mark breathing down his back. Tomorrow, I think it's time for some action. I'll just park outside and wait until Wade leaves, then dash in and talk to Darla.”

“I don't want you doing that alone, Lizzie. I'm going with you,” Molly said, slamming her glass on the table.

“I don't think so, Molly. Sally-Jo, what about Jacob?” Lizzie looked over at her. “I think it might be good to have a man as deflection.”

“I'm sure he would but he's driving to Birmingham tomorrow, something to do with work. But I'll go with you.”

“That's great. But it will be in the afternoon. I'm having lunch with Mama so I'll give you a call when I'm ready.”

When she got home she found Mark sitting in the backyard, nursing a bottle of Coors beer. Patchett was stretched out on the patio at Mark's feet. He raised his head and acknowledged her rubbing of his ears, and then resumed his sleeping pose.

“I hope you don't mind. I helped myself to a beer and then thought this would make a perfect spot to end the day. This is Patchett's favorite place, too.”

“Sounds like a great idea to me. I'll grab something and join you. Both of you.” She gave a silent cheer, grateful that Mark didn't seem to be mad at her any longer.

Lizzie gave Mark's head a small pat as she walked past him. She smiled, wondering if he realized how hot she thought he looked being bald. She'd not told him and she wasn't about to,
not yet anyway. She'd always thought that about bald men for no reason other than it was what it was.

By the time she rejoined him, Mark had pulled a chair up close, right next to his. She sat down and he grabbed her hand, lightly caressing it.

“How did it go with Darla?” Lizzie asked.

“She's okay. For now. How was the rest of your day?”

Was this a trick question? She hadn't gotten into any more trouble, as far as she knew. “It was good but exhausting.”

“I hope not too exhausting.” He gave her hand a squeeze.

“Never.” Lizzie sipped on her red wine and wondered if she dare ask anything about the investigation.
Probably not.
She shouldn't even think it.

Mark sighed. “Good. I've been thinking this afternoon that there may be only one way to get your mind off this murder.”

“And that would be?” She had an inkling.

“Come with me and I'll show you.” He stood and held out his hand to her. “Patchett will stay in the kitchen.”

I ought never to have dared the thought.

JANE AND THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS—
STEPHANIE BARRON

M
ark was already tying his running shoes by the time Lizzie made it downstairs the next morning. “What are you up to?”

“I thought I'd join you for a run this morning.” He pointed at Patchett who lay across the back door opening. “He said he was in need of some exercise.”

Lizzie let out an unladylike snort. “Some exercise running with him.”

Mark knelt down and patted the dog. “Don't worry, son, she's not really picking on you. It only sounds that way and that's because she hasn't had her morning java yet.” He stood and opened the back door. “Okay, Patchett can stand guard in the Jeep. You and I will do the exercise part.”

Lizzie couldn't say no to that. They were about fifteen
minutes into the run, having headed toward the pathway along the river into town, when Mark finally spoke.

“I'm taking the day off since Amber Craig is back. She's in charge today.”

“Oh, and what are you planning to do?”

“I thought I'd do a little unofficial surveillance with you.”

Lizzie glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

“Come on now. I know you. That mind of yours just won't leave this case nor Darla's situation alone. I'll just bet you're planning to sit outside that motel until Wade Morris goes out and then you'll have a talk with Darla, try and convince her to go back to Molly's.”

Lizzie gasped. “How did you know that?”

“Like I said, I know you, Lizzie Turner. I'll bet you talked Sally-Jo into going with you, too.”

“Actually, you don't know everything. She offered.”

Mark chuckled and slowed his pace. “I actually think it's a good idea to try and talk her out of that motel room, but there'll be hell to pay if he comes back while you're there. I'll just provide some backup.”

Lizzie stopped and grabbed Mark's hand. “Thanks, Mark. We're all so worried about her being back there, and coming face-to-face with him is not something I want to do.”

Mark gave her a quick kiss. “Just this once I'll take part in one of your schemes.”

“I need to visit Mama first though. Do you want to come along and have lunch with us?”

“Why don't you have your visit and I'll take Patchett home. Give me a call as you're leaving your mama and I'll meet you at your place.”

“Good idea. But before doing anything, I'd better call Sally-Jo about the change in plans.” She glanced down at Patchett then took off at a run. “Try to keep up, boys.”

*   *   *

L
izzie parked in the only available space out front at Magnolia Manor. She was surprised to see so many cars in the lot and then remembered that today was the twenty-fifth anniversary celebration for the residence. The still-stately mansion had been bought and renovated into the elegant assisted living place that Evelyn Turner now called home.

A large panorama showcasing photos from the days of renovation until the present greeted everyone entering through the front door. To the right of it, a bulletin board listed the many events scheduled for that day. Lizzie was pleased to note that a luncheon had been planned for the back lawn. She glanced out there and was awed by the huge tent that had been erected. Residents were already starting to filter in and find tables. Lizzie hurried down to her mama's room and gave a quick knock before entering.

Evelyn sat on the edge of her bed wearing her best dress, a flowing chiffon number in multi-shades of blue, with a drop waist and sleeves to her elbows. A wide-brimmed white straw hat lay next to her on the bed.

Lizzie gave her a hug and kissed her cheek. “Mama, you're looking so pretty today. I had totally forgotten about the anniversary party. I'm sorry I'm not all dressed up, too. Will it be all right for me to attend the luncheon wearing this?”

She watched closely to see if Evelyn would check her out. After a couple of minutes, Lizzie carried on. “Well, then. Let's go join the others, shall we? I'm sure you must be getting hungry. I know I am.”

She took hold of her mama's hand and led her to the door. Just before Lizzie opened it, Evelyn pulled back and reached out for her hat. She turned to the mirror and placed it carefully
on her head. When she looked back at Lizzie, there was a big smile on her face.

Lizzie let out a small gasp. Evelyn had done this herself. She had remembered her hat and put it on. It would be a good afternoon. “You look so beautiful, Mama.”

They found their name tags on a table for four and joined Evelyn's old friend Queenie Duggan and her younger sister, Nola.

“It's so lovely to see you again, Elizabeth. I don't know if I would have recognized you if I'd run into you at the Winn-Dixie. In fact, I'll just bet I've walked past you dozens of times in town.” Queenie let out a schoolgirl giggle. “And you, Evelyn, look very lovely today.” She touched the brim of her own straw-colored hat festooned with dozens of artificial flowers. “I just threw on this old thing. Haven't worn it since the Founders Day Festival in May 1989.”

“How do you remember that?” Nola asked sharply.

Queenie smiled. “I just do, my dear. You will too, if you give it some thought.”

Nola reached for the menu and looked to be reading it intently. She let out a small cry that caused everyone at the table and those close by to look at her. “Queenie. That's the day that Gregory Kaiser moved to town!”

“Precisely.”

Lizzie looked from one to the other, wondering if she should ask who that was.

Queenie reached out and touched Lizzie on her hand. “Gregory, my dear, was the love of our lives. Oh, yes, we both fell in love with him. He was well on his way to having a head full of gray hair by that point but he was still handsome. Much like the other Gregory who stole our hearts at a younger age. You know, Gregory Peck. And what a charmer.” She sighed.

“What happened?” Lizzie asked.

“Happened? Oh, he was also very sly and started wooing both of us, without the other knowing it. Quite the charmer. But unfortunately, he passed on.”

“He died?”

“No, child, he moved away with Ursula Farmer. You see, he had been also seeing her on the side and as everyone knows, Ursula had loads of money from the untimely death of her former husband. Number three it was. Now, what's on the menu, sister dear?” She looked at Nola, who also sighed before handing over her copy.

“Wow.” Lizzie couldn't think of anything else to say.

“Hmm, yes,” answered Queenie. “Now, I hear tell you're spending a lot of time with that sexy looking chief of police.”

“Sister,” Nola said, sounding shocked.

“Well, I did hear that and he certainly is. I knew his mama before she married Ken Dreyfus. She was a beauty. I think he has her big brown eyes. But the rest of him is all manly.”

“You shush up now, sister. Who knows what Elizabeth is thinking about you? Such talk.” Nola leaned toward Lizzie. “You have to excuse Queenie. She tends to get a bit carried away every now and then.”

“Oh, I don't mind, ma'am. In fact, I have to agree with her.”

Queenie winked and Lizzie flashed a smile back. She looked over at her mama, wondering what she thought about all this. Or if she'd been following. Their server came and took their orders, Lizzie choosing the green salad with chicken strips for herself and the same for Evelyn, while the sisters took the roast beef and mashed potatoes, the only other entrée.

“I was just thinking,” said Nola, “I heard that Bob Miller's granddaughter is in town. Is that right?”

“Yes, it is. Her name's Darla Lyman and she arrived last week.”

“Hmm. I can still remember Lily Miller, that would be her mama, picking tulips from my front yard one day in summer, cheery as can be, as if she owned the place. When I told Sue-Ann, that would be her mama, Bob's former wife, she told me to stop picking on her little girl. Harrumph. Can you imagine? That Sue-Ann never did have a lick of sense but she knew what she wanted. Went after young Bob Miller like a moth in a mitten, even though it was plain as the nose on your face how he felt about Molly Mathews.”

Lizzie leaned forward. “How did he feel?”

“Oh, anyone could see that Bob was sweet on Molly but I think in her mind, they were just good friends. At least, that's how it seemed. I wasn't right in Molly's group, you understand, but it looked like she didn't have her heart set on anyone in those days. Not until Claydon Mathews set his sights on her. Of course, that was long after Sue-Ann had a wedding ring on her finger. Claydon was probably the better match anyway. For Molly, I'm saying. Both from well-off families and him so dashing and into the social set and all.” She sighed. “How is Molly these days? I don't see much of her anymore.”

“She's doing just fine and keeping very busy with all her projects.” A basket of rolls was placed on the table and Lizzie grabbed it, passing it to Nola, hoping to forestall any more questions. While she loved hearing about Molly's younger days, she was reluctant to share information about her dear friend.

The meal appeared shortly after and they ate in silence. Lizzie wondered when Nola had last eaten, judging from the speed with which she cleaned her plate. Probably living on her own led to easy and spare meals, possibly even skipped ones. Maybe Nola should think about a room of her own in Magnolia Manor.

Lizzie thought about the luncheon on the drive home. She'd enjoyed the visit with Queenie and Nola Duggan, and her mama seemed to, also. She'd been ready for her nap, though, by the time Lizzie left. Even though she didn't participate in conversations, Lizzie was certain her mother took in everything, which could be exhausting when those around were as talkative as the Duggan sisters.

“I see we have company,” Lizzie said as she hopped into Mark's Jeep.

He looked over his shoulder and grinned. “Patchett might come in handy. There's nothing less threatening than someone walking a dog.”

“He's a prop.” She turned to give him a pat. “Such an honor, Patchett.”

He slobbered over her hand before she had a chance to pull it away. She wiped it on the towel Mark kept stuffed between the seats.

“How much do you know about the psychology of all this?” Lizzie asked.

“You mean, why a woman keeps going back to an abusive relationship?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I worked with a social worker on my first case as chief. It was a situation just like this. We had a hard time convincing the wife to leave. She jumped back and forth between believing he'd change and being scared stiff that he'd find her and kill her.”

“What happened?”

“We finally got her to a women's shelter. He eventually found where she was staying, my bet is that she got in touch with him, and he went there and shot himself on the front lawn.”

“I remember that in the paper. Wow, what a pathetic story.”

“He realized he couldn't get at her or maybe he realized there was no happy ending in any way.”

“If she'd killed him, would it have been self-defense?”

“Whoa. Where is that coming from?”

“Oh, just wondering what other endings there could have been.” She glanced out the side window so she wouldn't have to face him. She knew he couldn't read her thoughts and would know nothing about Fannie Hewitt, but she didn't want him to see any evasiveness in her eyes.

“No matter how much the guy may have deserved such an ending that would be a hard thing for his wife to have to live with. Fortunately, it didn't get to that point.”

Lizzie nodded and continued to watch the houses pass by. As much as she wanted it to be Teensy's problem, she realized she'd have to figure out what do to about Fannie real soon.

Mark parked in an alley across the street from the motel. Although they couldn't see the unit, they could see if anyone entered or left the parking lot. “We wait. Welcome to the totally boring side of police work.”

He settled back in his seat, and Patchett managed to wiggle his way through the opening between the seats and onto Mark's lap. Mark opened the window and Patchett sat with his head on the sill. Lizzie took a sip of the coffee they'd stopped to pick up at Starbucks, and tried to clear her head of all thoughts, wanting to concentrate on the scene in front of her.

After about ten minutes she asked, “Can we talk?”

“Do you mean, just talk about things in general or something specific?”

“Just talk. Or do we have to remain silent?”

Mark chuckled. “No we don't have to keep silent. Talk away.”

Patchett turned to look at her, and then with difficulty
fumbled his way over to her lap. Mark turned the ignition on so she could open her window, too. Once Patchett had settled, Lizzie asked, “Do you think Rafe Shannon died because of drugs?”