Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 02 - Apple Pots and Funeral Plots (20 page)

He set the journal on the table.
“Here it is.
I can’t make heads or tails of anything on any of the pages.”

“Let’s take a look.”
I sat down at the table and Jimmy took the other chair.

We pushed our chairs together and put the journal between us.
The exterior color might have once been red, or it could have been a maroon.
On the edges were pieces of dirty white lace.
The rest of the doily was totally gone.

I opened the first page.
It was still damp and muddy.
“Do you think if we dry these pages a bit, we might be able to read some of the writing underneath the mud?”

“I don’t know.”
Jimmy shrugged.

“Let’s try it.”
I got my blow dryer out of the bathroom and plugged it in next to the table.
I set the dryer on low and waved it over the page.
After several minutes, the page was dry.
Then I got one of my makeup brushes and waved it lightly over the dried mud.
It came off, like dust on the desert floor.

The first thing I realized was that the book definitely belonged to Danielle Slammers.
In the center of the first page, she had written her name and address.
There was a small handwritten note asking anyone who might find the journal to return it to her.

We weren’t as lucky with the next few pages.
Obviously the ink she had used for her name was more permanent than the one used in the journal.
When we dried and dusted off the mud, there wasn’t much left — just a few words here and there throughout the pages.
On the first several pages we found the words:
Sally, fire, timbers,
and
James
.
That confirmed my suspicious that
Danielle
had come to Clainsworth to investigate
Sally
’s death, then later started looking into
James
’ death, too.
I made a list of all the words we found.

We continued the same process with the next pages.
Sometimes we were lucky and we’d get a few words together, but mostly they were just fragments.

Joe arrived with my food.
I picked at it while Jimmy continued drying the pages.
Then he started picking at my food, too.
In fact he ate most of my fries.

“Didn’t you have lunch?”
I asked.

“No, too busy at the crash site.”

I cut my cheeseburger in half and handed it to him.

“Thanks.”
He grabbed it and gobbled it down.

We finished eating and went back to drying and dusting the pages.
At page one hundred the journal stopped and jumped to page one hundred and twenty-nine.
The rest of the pages were blank.

Jimmy and I looked at the list of words we had:
Sally, fire, timbers, James,
top, the, right, ground, to the first, stop, hill, sister, tree on the, friend, computer, send,
and
fire in the
.
Except the first few word, the rest meant absolutely nothing to me.

I set the paper on the table.
“How are you doing with identifying the body?”

“I sent the prints off to
Centerville
.
Teachers all have to be fingerprinted, so we should know soon if it’s
Danielle
’s sister or not.”

“I don’t think there’s much doubt, do you?”

“I’m not totally convinced, but if it is, then it might put a whole new spin on Danielle’s death.”

“I don’t think ‘might’ is the right word.
It definitely means Danielle was murdered and her sister was killed because of something in the journal.”

“It’s not going to be a popular theory.”

“Yeah, I bet Lieutenant Damson is going to have a problem with it, for sure.”

Jimmy chuckled.
“Oh yeah.
He told me Danielle’s death was a closed case and I shouldn’t look into it anymore.”

“That sounds like him.
By the way, did you check Sally and James’s deaths, too?”

“I tried, but the lieutenant caught me and said those cases were closed too.”

“How convenient.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy said reluctantly.

“Do you get the feeling you, me and
Edith
are the only ones who really want the truth about those deaths?”

“I’m starting to, yes.”

Just then there was a loud knock at the door.
Jimmy opened it and two other officers were standing there.
“What do you want?” he asked.

They pointed to me.
“We have a warrant for her arrest.”

I stood up.
“Excuse me?”

“What for?”
Jimmy asked, standing between the two officers and me.

“Attempted murder.”

“What?”
Jimmy and I said together.

The officers walked around Jimmy and put handcuffs on me.
“Where’s your gun?” one of the officers asked me.

“It’s in the safe,” Jimmy answered.
“I saw her put it there.”

“Would you get it?”

“Sure.”
He opened the safe, took out my gun, and handed it to one of the officers.

The officer sniffed the barrel and said, “It’s been fired recently.”

“What?”
I said.
I hadn’t had that gun out since I’d put in it the safe a few days ago.
How could it have been used recently?
I hadn’t shot it for several weeks.

I felt numb, too shocked to be scared.
I just let them walk me out of the room.

The last thing I heard as I headed down the hall of the inn was Jimmy saying, “I’ll take care of
Shelby
.
We’ll get this straightened out.”

“Thanks,” I called over my shoulder, as they led me away to the squad car.

Chapter 20

They took me through a back door of the police station, walked me down a short hall, and put me in a small room.
The cell was a six foot square box with a metal bench, no windows, and bars instead of a door.
When I heard the door slam closed, the knot in my stomach started to churn and panic set in.
How could my gun have been fired if it hadn’t left the safe since I had been in Clainsworth?
It wasn’t possible.
I squeezed my eyes closed stifling the tears that were filling them.
After several long slow deep breath
s
, I concentrated on slowing down my breathing and getting my emotions under control.

Two hours later I
still was
in the cell.
I’d passed numbness and panic, and was just angry.
“Hello!”
I screamed.
“I’m tired of sitting here.
Let me out!”

Jimmy suddenly appeared on the other side of the bars that confined me.
His face looked drawn and tight.
“Easy, Liza.
I’m doing the best I can to get you out of here.”

“Why am I in here?”
I bellowed.
“They haven’t even bothered to come and
talk
to me, yet.”

He shook his head and muttered, “I really don’t want you to talk to them.”

“Why?”
I said, drawing my head back in response to his words.
What was wrong with talking to me?

“I don’t want you telling them that Danielle, her sister, Sally and James were all murdered and you’re going to find out who did it.”

“I wouldn’t…”

Jimmy interrupted me.
“Yes, you would.”

“Okay.
Tell me what’s going on.”

He pulled up a chair outside of my cell.
“Okay, your gun was used in a drive-by shooting this afternoon.”

“How is that possible?
It was locked in the safe the whole time.”

“I don’t know.”

“Was anyone hurt in the shooting?”

“No, it just scared some local kids.”

My heart stopped.
“Someone shot at kids?”

“They’re fine.”

“Are you sure?”

He reached through the bars and put his hand on my arm.
“Yes.”

“Okay, so let’s go back to when this happened.”

“Early this afternoon, around one-fifteen.”

“In between the time I was at the kids eating contest and the library.”

“Exactly.”

“Someone intended it that way, you know that.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that was the plan.”

“So now what?”

“I’ve made a few calls and I’ve got Edith coming over to tell them what time you got to the library.
I’m glad you went there early to pick out a book or you wouldn’t really have much of an alibi.”

“Great, I didn’t think I needed an alibi or I would have made sure to account for each and every moment of my time.”
My voice elevated with every word.

“Easy,
Liza
.”

“You take it easy!”
I stood and paced in the cell.
“This is ridiculous!”

“I know.”
Jimmy stood and put the chair back against the wall.
“I’ll let you know when you can go.”

“Thanks.”
As he walked away I thought of something.
“Jimmy?”

He turned.
“Yes?”

“How did you know the combination to the safe in my room?
I noticed you walked right over and took the gun out.”

“I know all of the combinations to every safe in the local hotels.
There’s a trick.
I’m not going to share it with you or they might arrest you for stealing, too.”

I laughed.
“Probably.”

Jimmy left and I sat down on the cold metal bench.
If he knew the combination to my safe, then it meant all of the other officers did too.
When I woke up thinking someone was in my room, maybe someone actually had been there.
No,
Shelby
wouldn’t have let someone come into the room without having a fit.
They had to have gotten the gun while I was at the kids’ contest and then returned it when I was reading to the children.

An hour later I was still in the cell, but I was also hungry and needed to go to the restroom.
I started yelling again.
“Hello!”

Another officer came down to my cell.
“Yes.”

“I need to use the restroom and I’m starving.”

“Okay.
I can do something about the first thing but not the last.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

The officer led me to a door with a restroom sign on it.
I went inside and locked the door.
No window in the room, so no possible means of escape.
I used the facilities and then splashed water on my face.
The reflection in the mirror looked exhausted and gaunt — slightly better than I felt at the moment.
The last three days had been hell – two accidents, and now I had been arrested.

A few seconds later, someone pounded on the door.
“Hey, lady.
Are you done yet?”

“Yes,” I yelled back and opened the door.
“Thanks.”

Instead of going back to the cell, the officer walked me into another room.
It had a small table in the middle and three chairs, two on one side and one on the other.
One wall was mirrored.
It looked like a scene from “Law and Order.”
This would be funny if I wasn’t being charged with attempted murder.

The officer pointed to the chair facing the mirror.
“Have a seat.”

“Okay.”
I deliberately sat in the other seat.

He came over to me.
“No, you need to sit in the other chair.”

“But I’m superstitious.
I never sit on the right side of a table.
It’s bad luck, like a black cat or walking under a ladder.”

He looked stunned.
“Well, okay.
But they may ask you to move later.”

“We’ll see.”

The officer left the room and when I heard the lock engage on the door a sharp shiver ran up my spine.
I could feel the panic starting to well up again, so I started counting and using all of the “calm down” techniques I teach my kinders every year.

More time passed.
I got up several times and paced around the room.
This was getting ridiculous.
I sat back down.
Maybe that was their technique.
Wear you out so you’ll confess to anything.
Finally I laid my head down on the table and fell asleep.

Someone slammed a file on the table and startled me awake but I didn’t lift my head.

“Liza!”
Lieutenant Damson bellowed.
“Wake up!”

Slowly I lifted my head and smiled at the lieutenant.
I kept my voice calm and even, stifling my desire to reach over and strangle the man.
“I want a lawyer.”
Then I put my head back down.
If I’d learned anything from all those television programs I watched, it was ask for a lawyer immediately.

“You don’t need a lawyer, you’re not being charged with anything.”

“Great.”
I stood up and walked toward the door.
“Then I’m leaving.
I’m hungry.”

He took that opportunity to take my seat.
“But I do have some questions.
If I get you something to eat will you stay and answer them?”

I’d seen this on television, too.
Unfortunately, I had to sit down in the single chair facing the mirrored wall.
There was no way I
would sit
next to that arrogant man.
“Sure, I’d like a prime rib sandwich from Rogan’s Steak house, some seasoned fries and a Diet Coke.”

“No problem.”
He took his cell phone out of his pocket and ordered my food.
“We just want to figure out how your gun was used in the drive-by shooting.”

“I don’t know.”
I sat back and crossed my arms.

“When did you see the gun last?”

“When I put it in the safe.”

“When was that?”

“The first morning I was here – Sunday.”

“That was after your alleged auto accident?”

“What do you mean ‘alleged’?
Do you think I deliberately drove my car into a ditch?”

“No, but we can’t be sure of anything.
Who was with you when you put the gun into the safe?”

“
Jimmy
and
Bill
.”

“Anyone else?”

“No.”

“Why did you come to Clainsworth?”

That caught me off guard until I remembered an old “Law and Order” episode.
Switch topics and get the perp confused.
I was starting to enjoy this interrogation.
“I love apple desserts?”

“That’s not what I heard.”

“Fine.
I knew Danielle Slammers and I wanted to know what happened to her.”
I turned and smiled at him.
“Nobody else seemed to care.”

“She was killed by a vagrant looking for money.”

“Then why didn’t the vagrant take the money?”

“We have no idea but we aren’t actively working that case because there weren’t any leads to follow.”

“And what about
Sally
and
James
?
Are you still actively working those cases?”

“No.
They were accidents.”

“Yeah, that’s what I heard, too.”

“Who else knew you had a gun with you?”

Another switch, how fun.
I really didn’t want to bring Tom into this, so I lied.
“No one.”

“Why were you at the mine?”

“I wasn’t.
I was walking through the field when I fell into the mine.
I didn’t plan it that way, you know.”

“You seem to have a lot of accidents.”
He leaned forward.
“Don’t you?”

“That seems to happen a lot in this town.”

“Maybe you should go home.”

“And miss the rest of the eating contests?
No way.”

Just then another officer arrived with my food.
He handed it to me and I quickly unwrapped the sandwich and started eating.
I looked up at the officer who had brought the food.
“Got any ketchup for my fries?”

He glanced at the lieutenant, who nodded, and said, “I think there’s some in the staff refrigerator.”

“I’ll get it,” the other officer said and left the room.

The sandwich was warm and full of at least a pound of thinly sliced prime rib, layered with melted Swiss cheese and sautéed mushrooms.
It was amazing and especially good because I hadn’t paid for it.
After dinner last night, this lunch would have certainly overextended my budget.
The officer arrived with my ketchup and sat in the empty chair beside the lieutenant.

I glanced at the both of them.
Was it time for good cop – bad cop?
Or
would it
be bad cop – worse cop?
It didn’t matter; I just concentrated on the delicious sandwich and seasoned curly fries.

Neither officer spoke the entire time I ate.
I started to feel a little unnerved and decided to strike up a conversation.
“So.”
I looked at the new officer.
“Who are you?”

He glanced at the lieutenant, who nodded, and then looked back at me.
“My name is Officer Thompson.”

I stuck my hand out and he shook it.
“Nice to meet you.”

“You too,
Liza
.
How are you enjoying the festival?”

“It’s great.
The eating contests are new to me, so they are fascinating.”

“Wait until the apple pot contest.
It’s the best.
We even have cameras to televise the event.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.
Most of the contestants use the other eating contests as practice runs for the apple pots.
That’s when the big money prizes are given out.”

“How much do they win?”

“First place gets ten thousand dollars, second place five thousand, and third gets two thousand.”