Tied With a Bow and No Place to Go (Tizzy/Ridge Trilogy Book 3) (19 page)

Ridge watched Ted drive away and turned to Rita. “Where were
you this morning?”

Rita beamed up at him. “I spent extra time to get ready. I
routed the calls to Athens. I do that sometimes.”

“You got that look.”

“What look?”

“Oooh.” The word came out on a chuckle from deep in Ridge’s
throat. “You know what I’m saying. I’m guessing things are progressing between
you and the French Model.”

“Oh hush up,” she said and ducked her head.

“You’re blushing, so I’m right. I’m happy for you. Is it
love?”

“I like him for sure. But forget me. What about the case?”

“The phone records gave me something. Jay Roy had recent
contact with Kassie and Deborah, and they denied it. Once I’m done with
questioning the other women, I’ll bring them back.” He started to leave, but
stopped. “No, I tell you what. Let’s get their phone records and see who
they’ve been calling.”

Ridge stared across the table at Lavonne Durley and decided
to play a mind game of Match the Ribbon. He’d always been good at puzzles, and
the challenge might help take the edge off the personal weirdness of the case.
He read Lavonne’s stats. A librarian in Fort Worth. She’d never married.

He looked at the list, stopping at each of the remaining
unclaimed colors. He ruled out gold. With drab brown hair and no makeup, glitz
didn’t fit Lavonne. The denim shirt and khaki pants narrowed his search to gray
or brown. Either color fit, but he’d go with brown. He brought out his notebook
and wrote as he talked. “When was the last time you saw Jay Roy?”

Lavonne crossed her legs, rested an elbow on the arm of her
chair and leaned into it. “I saw him a year ago at a reception for my momma’s
eightieth birthday. He came, along with a hundred other folks.” She uncrossed
her legs and slouched in her seat. “A few of us got together last night at
McAlister’s Tavern, and we discussed the ribbons. I’ll save time. He and I did
it once. He used a brown ribbon.”

Ridge gave himself a mental pat on the back.
Game on.
“Once?”

“Yes. Now, if you were counting how many times we went deer
hunting together, you’d have a sack full. Being with Jay Roy forced me to admit
what I’d known for a long time, so I came out of the closet.”

After the crazy women he’d interviewed so far, a lesbian
deer hunter was a breath of fresh air. “Did anyone have a score to settle with
him?”

“No. He was a jokester with a good heart.”

“Good hearted woman! Good hearted woman!”
Willie
squawked.

Lavonne slapped her knee. “Oh my Lord! They mentioned that
bird last night at the tavern. Can I see him?”

Surprised by the question, Ridge chuckled. The bird was
acquiring groupies. “Sure. When we’re done. What about his ex-wives?”

“They were best friends in high school.” She hesitated and
faced the wall. “But Jay Roy was the WORST thing that ever happened to their
friendship.”

“There are worst things than being alone! Damn! Damn!”

“Shoot! I was going for the song, The Best Worst Thing. But
that one will do,” Lavonne said. “The girls mentioned how words in conversation
set him off with song titles. I wanted to test him.”

Ridge’s eye twitched. He wondered at what point he’d lost
control of the interview to Willie. “Back to the exes. What else can you tell
me?”

“In my opinion, they disliked each other more than they
loved Jay Roy. They treated him as if he was the prize in a contest.” She sat
up straighter. “But that was forever ago.”

“Were they at the bar last night?”

“No.”

“What about Lounell Patton?”

“Are you asking if she was there?”

“Yeah. And if she and Jay Roy were ever an item?”

Lavonne scrunched her face as if confused by the question.
“Is she a suspect?”

“A person of interest.”

“Oh. Yes, she had drinks with us. She and Jay Roy dated for
a short time in high school, but never went steady.” Lavonne laughed. “That
sounds funny. No one uses that term anymore. Now, it’s hooking up and hanging
out.”

“Okay. I appreciate you coming in,” he said and stood. “Now
I’ll show you the bird.”

After Lavonne left, Ridge read over the meaning of brown.
Hearth, home, and the outdoors. Once again, amazed at the thought Jay Roy put
into his color choices.

Before his next interview arrived, he covered Willie’s cage
with a cloth and turned on the radio. Music would drown out his conversation.
He hoped.

How the Pruett guy could have an alibi and still be
identified as the person who arranged for the delivery to Jay Roy bugged Ridge.
There had to be a logical explanation. The secretary must be lying. He cleared
his head and went back to his notes. The next classmate scheduled was Ellen
Lunsford, a prize winning auctioneer, married, mother of two, and lived in
Huntsville, Texas. He stepped to the doorway and rubbed his back against the
jamb, hoping to relieve the tightness between his shoulders. Too much sitting.
Too much coffee. Too many ribbons. He watched Ellen’s approach. Long blonde
hair and bright brown eyes. “Texas Ranger Ridge Cooper,” he said, and extended
his hand. “Thank you for coming.”

“Happy to help.”

He motioned her toward a chair and he reclaimed his. Again,
not the gold ribbon, even though the metallic words Bid-Win-Grin, emblazoned
across her tee shirt added a bit of pizzazz. Of the colors left, he’d go with
gray.

“I understand there was a get-together at McAlister’s last
night. Did you go?”

“Yes and I drank too much. That hunky bartender was testing
new drinks and I’m hung over.”

“Happens to the best of us. Since you ladies talked, it’s
out of the bag that Jay Roy kept count of how many times he had relations with
each of you and the color he used. You did sleep with him. Right?”

Ellen drummed her fingers on the table. “Yes. How many gray
ribbons? Twenty, twenty, twenty. Was it more? Thirty? Was it thirty? Thirty? Do
I hear forty? Forty?”

Ridge broke into a laugh.

Small beads of perspiration formed giving Ellen a dewy glow.
“Oh Lord! Fifty? Fifty? Was it fifty?”

He hoisted his thumb in the air.

Ellen’s eyes bugged. “Fifty-one? Fifty-two?”

He motioned higher.

He continued to pump the air and Ellen’s voice squeaked out.
“Fifty-three? Fifty-four? Fifty-five? Fifty-six?”

He slapped the table. “Sold!”

She clutched her chest. “Lord have mercy. Fifty-six! Gee, it
didn’t seem like that many at the time.”

Ridge straightened his face. The game must be helping
because he was having fun. He glanced at his chart. “According to my notes,
gray means conservative. You don’t fit that description.”

“I used to, but after going to auctioneer school, I came out
of my shell.”

“Did you and Jay Roy part as friends?”

“Yes. We were never serious. None of us were, other than the
three he married. I can’t think of a single person who’d want to kill him, not
even his exes. But I guess people can change.”

Following the interview, Ridge stood before Rita again.

She shuffled papers. “Okay. That leaves Bonnie Gathright,
Vivian Burling, Paula Kay Burgess, and Ginger Beth Newman.”

“Pattiecake told me Gathright and Burgess didn’t take the
pleasure of Jay Roy’s company. If that’s true and one of the other two doesn’t
claim the blue ribbon, I’m back to square one.”

“Well, you still have the two classmates not attending.
Lorna Garmon and Selene Dyer.”

“Right. I’ll need to rule them out.”

Rita read a text and her face lit up like a homecoming
bonfire.

“Damn,” Ridge said, “that must be your boyfriend. Does he
text you all day?”

“How many times a day do you text Tizzy?”

“Okay, guilty as charged. Tell me more about him. Have you
done a background check?”

Rita scowled. “No! That’s not the way you start a relationship.”

“Uh, yeah, it is. Give me his full name and birthdate. I’ll
do it and your conscience will be clear.”

“I’m not doing that. I have the information I need. His name
is Thomas Sparks, fifty years old and a supervisor for the water department in
Tyler. Divorced for five years, and has twin boys in college at Texas A&M.
Part of the fun of falling in love is finding out things as the relationship
develops.”

“Hey, I’m just saying you could save yourself possible
heartbreak. What if he has a record? What if he’s a Jay Roy and likes the
laa-dies.” Ridge sang the last word in a higher octave, then laughed.

Rita swatted at him with the phone book. “Did you run Tizzy
through the system?” Rita blinked and blinked again. “Crazy me. Of course you
did. She was a person of interest in your first case. But—if she hadn’t been,
would you have checked her out?”

“No. She had me so wrapped around her finger I didn’t care.
Wait a minute.” He ran a hand along his jaw bone, now tensed into a hard line.
“I’ve been wondering how the Pruett boy could be in two places at the same time
and you may have answered that question. Twins. Hell, that could be the reason
he has an alibi. He may have a twin brother.”

Ridge slid onto a stool at the end of the bar and placed his
briefcase on the counter. He needed a change of scenery. Sitting across from
woman after woman discussing their encounters with Jay Roy took its toll. Hell,
it was depressing to compare the dead man’s conquests to his. Not that Ridge
lacked success with women. He’d had his fair share, but didn’t enjoy discussing
sex with total strangers.

Jinx finished with a customer, then walked to stand in front
of Ridge. “You drinking on duty? You must be having a shitty day.”

“No. I needed a change in scenery. I thought I might sit a
while and take the opportunity to transfer notes to my iPad if that’s okay with
you.”

“Sure. You want to order something?”

“Let me have one of those fancy coffees’ Tizzy drinks.”

Jinx smiled. “She gets a latte. Is that what you want?”

“What are my choices?”

Jinx pointed to a menu board behind the bar. “Start with
espresso and add the foamy part of steamed milk, it’s a Cappuccino. Without the
foam, it’s a Latte. Add chocolate syrup to that and you got Mocha. Add cinnamon
and it becomes Mexican Mocha. Substitute orange zest for the cinnamon, you got
Borgia. If I use half and half, it’s a Breve. I’ve got other flavorings as well
. . . uh, hazelnut, vanilla, almond.”

Ridge scratched his head. “When did ordering a cup of coffee
become so complicated?”

“How ‘bout I surprise you.”

“Sounds good.”

“Take that booth in the corner. I’ll get your drink.”

Ridge strolled to the table, slid across the seat, settled
in, and laid his iPad on the table.

Jinx brought the drink and sat in the opposite seat. “How’s
the case going?”

“I’ve got several persons of interest, but not one definite
suspect. You got Wi-Fi set up yet?”

“Password, tavern99. There’s something I’ve been meaning to
ask. You interested in an office space?”

Ridge brought the cup to his mouth and sipped. He’d not
considered a permanent workplace. Not a bad idea since he kept his office door
at home locked to keep Gracie out. “You got an area available?”

“I will have. They’re coming along on the construction
pretty fast. The living quarters should be finished in a couple of weeks, but
I’ll still have technology to be installed, so it’ll be a month until
completion.”

“This is good. What is it?”

“Hazelnut Cappuccino. It’s my favorite. You decided on the
space?”

“I’m interested. It’d sure be nice to have a place away from
the police station. How much rent we talking?”

“I know it’ll come out of your pocket and not the state’s,
so I guarantee it’ll be reasonable.”

“Sounds good. Right now I’m going to watch the traffic video
in hopes of finding the mystery man who bought the strawberries. Something Rita
said earlier makes me wonder if the boy has a twin brother. That would explain
his alibi.”

Jinx nodded. “That’s logical. He has to be involved, or why
did he run away when he saw the Sweet Thangs logo on Rayann’s shirt.”

“Well, I’m running a search for white males, same last name,
born on the same day as Justin, in Corpus Christi. Since he’s in the system
that gives me plenty of info to narrow my choices. There can’t be that many.”

Jinx started to speak again, but Ridge held up his finger
and stared at the computer screen. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Rita sent me
something.” Ridge focused on the screen and smiled. “Turns out the gas company
took soil samples from Jay Roy’s land right after Doyle gave him the loan.”

“Whoa. That moves him up the list,” Jinx said.

“Yeah. Man, that was quick. I already have a name for
Justin’s brother. Jackson. Last known residence is listed as Palace Avenue in
Tyler. Let’s see.” Ridge typed in the location, and Google map furnished the
visual. “Not much of a house. It can’t be more than a thousand square feet.”

“Pull up the city’s tax roll. That should give you the
stats.”

Ridge entered the site and read aloud. “Nine hundred
twenty-four square feet. One bedroom. One bath. Appraised value less than
twenty thousand. Okay, let’s see if Jackson owns a truck.” He typed in the
driver’s license number resulting from the earlier report. “Gotcha, Brother
Jackson. Now, I’ll enter a BOLO for a 1995 Ford F-150, tag HXC-493. The BOLO
can work while I check the residence. If I find him, that’ll save me going
through the traffic video.” He stared past Jinx as the front door rattled.
“Hey, Bubba. What’s going on?” he asked.

“Not much. Hey, Jinx. Thought I’d grab a beer before heading
home. What are you doing, Ridge?”

“Hold off on that drink,” Ridge said. “I’m going to check
out a location in Tyler where my mystery man may be staying. Want to go?”