6 Death Takes The Blue Ribbon (5 page)

Chapter Nine

I didn’t sleep well that night. Images of the surprised look on Harold’s face right before he fell over kept running through my mind. I got up before the alarm went off at eight, and put Babe and Mittens in the backyard before I took a shower.

There was a text from Trixie waiting for me when I finally remembered to turn on my phone. If I could get away with it, I’d leave that thing off all the time. Sometimes, it’s nice to just unplug from the world, curl up on the couch with Mittens, and read a good book. Days like that were few and far between ever since Dale Gordon, the owner of the newspaper I worked for, put me in charge and left town. He came back after a few months, and I was thrilled, because I thought it meant he was taking over again. Nope. I was still in charge and still stuck with Jake.

All of this had nothing to do with Trixie’s text, of course. She wanted me to meet her for breakfast at the café. I finished getting ready, let the dogs back in, fed them and made sure there was plenty of water in their dishes, grabbed my stuff and left.

She was munching on some bacon when I slid into the seat across from her. “Did you oversleep this morning?” she asked as I took a piece of bacon from her plate.

“No, I just didn’t feeling like rushing around this morning.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t because some hunky deputy was at your house for dinner last night?” she teased.

“Who told you that?”

“And give away a good source of gossip? Not on your life,” Trixie said. “So, what did you two kids talk about?”

“We talked about Harold Norwell falling face down in a pie.”

“Oh ugh, that’s an image I didn’t need put in my head this morning,” she said, pushing her plate away.

I grabbed the last piece of bacon from her plate and ate it. “Then you shouldn’t have provoked me.”

“Wow, you’re in a cranky mood.”

“I had that image in my head all night.”

Trixie shook her head. “I felt so sorry for Gladys. I looked at her face as it happened, and you could tell she was devastated.”

“Hm, I wonder…”

“Wonder what?”

“If she’s as devastated as she wants everyone to believe she is.”

“Good grief, what a heartless thing to say, Elizabeth Crenshaw!” Trixie said, shocked at my insensitivity. “What would your mother say?”

“If my mother knew what I knew, she’d probably say the same thing.”

Trixie leaned forward, eager for news. “Spill it. You obviously know something I don’t.”

“I’m not sure I should say,” I said, leaning back. “I only know because T.J. was at my house when Doc Endicott called him.”

“I’m your best friend. You know the rule: keep juicy info to yourself, but always share with your true blue friend.”

“Uh huh,” I replied, “you just want to hear about it first before…” I stopped myself when I realized what I was about to say.

Trixie had the same thought. “Well, you have to admit that I will know about it before Gladys does this time.”

“Yeah, but it feels weird.”

“I know. So, what did Doc say?”

I knew she wouldn’t let up until I told her, but thankfully, Maddie came over with my usual breakfast of two over easy eggs, four strips of crisp bacon, and two freshly made biscuits. “Good morning, Lizzie. Darn shame about Harold Norwell,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “He was a good man. He used to come to my house during the fall, and clean out my gutters for me. He was my husband David’s best friend. When David was killed in that car accident twenty years ago, Harold promised he’d take care of me. Sometimes, he came over to work in the flower beds, but I knew it was just an excuse to get away from that old battleax of a wife. We’d sit and talk for an hour. He said it was nice to be able to carry on a conversation without being contradicted or told to shut up every five minutes. Sure am gonna miss him.” She walked away, wiping tears from her eyes as she headed for the kitchen.

“I talked to Maddie yesterday afternoon, and she never said anything to me about all that,” I said.

“Maddie never says anything unless she thinks it’s important. She was probably too busy at the fair to stop and think about his death yesterday,” Trixie pointed out. “Uh oh, here comes trouble.”

I looked toward the front door and groaned. Jake had just walked in. He spotted us, waved and walked over. Trixie slid over so he could sit down next to her. “Good morning, ladies.”

“It was until you sat down,” I groused.

“Ooh, a wee bit testy this morning, are we? Well, no wonder. You haven’t had your morning Dr Pepper yet. We’ll have to take care of that right now,” he said, getting back up and walking over to Maddie, who was standing at the register. He said something to her, because she threw back her head and laughed, winked and disappeared into the kitchen. She came back three minutes later with a plate of biscuits and gravy, and a glass of Dr Pepper. Jake pinched her cheek before relieving her of the plate and glass. “Here you go: one jolt of caffeine and more fresh biscuits.” He sat down. “Now, what are you two up to this fine Saturday morning?”

“Lizzie was just about to tell me…ouch!” She glared at me. “What did you do that for?”

“Jake doesn’t want to hear about some silly girl stuff. He prefers more hardcore things, like hounding grieving widows who just witnessed their husband die right in front of her.”

“You didn’t bother Gladys last night, did you, Jake?” Trixie asked.

“Of course not,” Jake said. “Lizzie chewed me out for even thinking about doing it yesterday. I realized she was right, and so I refrained.”

I looked at his face. His right eye twitched slightly, and I knew he was lying. “You mean, you tried to talk to Gladys last night, and Iris sent you away. You never made it off the front porch and into the house, did you?”

“I’m lucky she didn’t pull a shotgun on me and fill my behind with buckshot.” Trixie and I laughed. “So, what were you about to tell Trixie?” he said, looking at me.

“Nothing.” There was no way I was going to say anything about what I had learned last night.

“She got some juicy news about Harold’s death while T.J. was having dinner at her house,” Trixie replied. I glared at her as Jake got a very ticked off look on his face.

“You had dinner with Deputy Dawg last night?” he said.

“When a man shows up at your house with steak and cherry cheesecake, a wise woman opens the door and lets him in,” I told him.

“So you took this unexpected opportunity and pumped him for information on the case, right?” Jake asked. “Smart reporter move, taking advantage of the situation.”

“I did not ‘take advantage of the situation’. Doc Endicott called him while he was still at my house.”

“Whatever. What did you find out?”

I hesitated. T.J. hadn’t specifically told me not to talk about the lab results. “I’m not sure I’m at liberty to talk to you about it.”

“Did T.J. specifically tell you NOT to talk about it?” Jake said. I shook my head. “Then spill the beans.”

Trying to delay the inevitable, I looked around to make sure no one was listening, when I saw T.J. walk in. I never thought I’d be glad to see him, but I waved at him and moved over so he could sit down. “Just the woman I was looking for,” T.J. said as he sat down.

“You were looking for me?” Trixie said, batting her eyelashes at him. “I didn’t know you cared so much, T.J.”

He laughed. “It’s good to see you, Trixie, but I was referring to your friend here,” he replied. “Jake, how are you?”

“I was doing fine until you showed up.”

“Well, don’t let me ruin your morning, Jake,” T.J. said. “I’m sure you have places to go, people to harass, candy to take away from little children…”

Jake started to reply, but I stopped him. “Alright, that’s enough. We’re all going to have to learn to get along, especially since T.J.’s coming back to Brookdale for good. So shake hands, agree to disagree, and tell me why you are both looking for me.”

They didn’t shake hands, no big surprise there, but at least they stopped the snarky remarks. “I got a call from Iris this morning,” T.J. told me. “Gladys left something at the house and wanted to go back over there to get it. When I told Iris no, she told Gladys, who started yelling in the background. I won’t repeat what she said. Needless to say, I had to settle for a compromise. Gladys said it’s alright for you to go over there with me to get it.”

“Me? Why me?” I didn’t want to go over to the Norwell house. My plans for the day included walked around the fair for a while, going to the store, and then going home. Nowhere in those plans did I have room to go to Gladys’ house. Nope, no way, no how, not happening.

“I asked Iris the same thing. Apparently, Gladys trusts you right now, because you were so kind to her yesterday. And Iris doesn’t want to leave her alone right now. So you’re it.”

“But I don’t want to go,” I replied. “I have plans.”

“It will only take a few minutes.”

“No. Get it yourself.”

“I could, but then she wouldn’t get it until tonight, or maybe even tomorrow. I got the search warrant, and I’m on my way over there right now.”

“Take Trixie with you.”

“I can’t go,” Trixie replied. “I have a meeting with an interior decorator in about an hour.”

“Redoing the club, Trix?” Jake said. “Going with the whips and chains theme I suggested last month?”

“You just never know, Jake, I just might,” she laughed, winking at him. Wait a minute, was my best friend flirting with my old college boyfriend? Isn’t there a rule in the best friend’s handbook against things like this? Hold the phone, people, why did I care? I mentally slapped myself.

“Don’t even think about suggesting I go, Lizzie,” Jake warned me. “There’s no way I’m going anywhere with him.”

“Nobody asked you to go anywhere, Mathias,” T.J. said.

“Ok, ok, I’ll go. Geez Louise Mother McCree,” I muttered.

“That’s my girl,” T.J. said, patting my leg. “Let’s go.”

I glared at Trixie and Jake. “You two are going to pay for this one.”

Trixie just smiled. Jake, on the other hand…well, if looks could kill, T.J. would be lying on the café floor with a hundred knives in his back.

Chapter Ten

T.J. offered to let me ride with him over to the Norwell house, but I declined. I followed him over there, and parked behind him. There were two other police cars there, as well as a crime scene unit. “What exactly does Gladys need me to pick up?” I asked T.J. as I joined him on the sidewalk.

“She said there are some photo albums in the master bedroom closet,” he replied as he pulled out some latex gloves. He handed a pair to me. “You need to put these on before you go inside.”

“That’s it?” I said as I did what he asked. “Just some photo albums?”

“I think she and Iris have been doing some sentimental journey, remembering old times,” he shrugged. “No reason for her not to have them.” One of the crime scene techs handed us some paper booties to put over our shoes. “Is someone checking out the backyard?”

“Yes, sir, one of your deputies,” the tech replied.

T.J. nodded as we went in. It was tastefully decorated; it had that warm, homey feel to it, which isn’t something I would normally associate with Gladys’ caustic personality. But then again, you just never know how people behave inside their own homes.

“The master bedroom is down that hallway, last door on the right,” T.J. pointed out to me. I followed him, and we went into a room that was about the size of my living room. There were various shades of blue all over the room, and I cringed. It reminded me of a tacky tri-colored blue shag carpet from my childhood. It wasn’t pretty, but I guess to Gladys, it was.

He opened the closet doors, and we started looking for the albums. Harold’s clothes were on the left, mostly collared cowboy shirts and comfortable slacks. One black suit hung in the back, and a pair of well-worn slippers and a pair of dress shoes sat on the floor under the clothes. On the right, total chaos. Bright colors jumped out at me, all vying for my attention. There was lemon-lime, pink, orange, bright yellow, light blue…just about every color of the rainbow and then some. I thought I was going to go blind looking at all those tacky colors. I had seen her wear some of these things, but when they were all together in one place, all I could do was shudder.

I scanned the upper shelves. “There,” I said, pointing at a pile of albums in the middle of the shelf. “Those must be it.”

I moved aside so T.J. could pull them down. There were eight albums of various sizes, but definitely full of pictures and mementos of their lives together. I would have never guessed that Gladys was so sentimental. “Let’s see if we can find a box to put these in, or they’re just going to slide all over your car.”

I agreed, but unfortunately, there wasn’t one to be found in the bedroom. “Why don’t we check the garage,” I suggested. “Everyone always has a box in there.”

We left the bedroom and made our way toward the front door when Owen called out to T.J. “I thought you weren’t working this case,” T.J. said, sounding a bit nervous. He was probably afraid that Owen was taking over the case.

“I’m just supervising the backyard search,” he replied. “Just trying to help move your investigation along. Besides, I’m letting a couple of my deputies do all the heavy work.” He looked over at me, and gave me a small nod, his way of letting me know that he had understood what I was talking about earlier. “Speaking of which, we found something out here I think you should take a look at, T.J.”

They went out the back door, and since they didn’t specifically tell me I couldn’t, I followed them out there. One of the crime techs had spread what looked like a plastic drop cloth on the ground, and dumped the trash from the outside can on it. Owen, T.J. and another person were standing by a table that was partially covered with vegetables. I walked over and stood next to T.J. “Don’t touch anything,” he said without looking at me.

A female crime tech was holding a mortar and pestle in her gloved hands. “There’s quite a bit of residue here, as you can see,” she said, holding it out for us to examine. She put it down on the table and picked up a piece of wadded up wax paper. “I also found some cut up pieces of rhubarb greens on here, as well as blueberry filling. There are probably some of the crushed greens in that filling. I’ll know for sure once I get it back to the lab and test it.”

Owen pointed to several stalks of rhubarb on the table, nestled next to some carrots and corn on the cob. I never ate rhubarb myself, but I knew it was the color of raspberries on the outside, and green on the inside. It looked a bit like celery, except for the color, and it certainly didn’t look appetizing, but that’s just me.

I left the three of them to talk while I wandered toward the vegetable garden in the right corner near the back fence. There were plenty of vegetables, ripe and ready for harvesting. It would be great to have something like this in my backyard, but Mittens had the tendency to dig a lot, and knowing Babe, she’d probably lay down right in the middle of the garden, killing anything trying to grow there.

“Lizzie,” T.J. called out to me, “let’s go.”

I looked around the garden one more time before I walked back to the house. There was something bugging me about the garden. I’m not sure what it was, but something wasn’t right.

Turns out, that something was a pretty big clue, only I didn’t know it at the time.