6 Death Takes The Blue Ribbon (8 page)

BOOK: 6 Death Takes The Blue Ribbon
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Chapter Fifteen

I waited five minutes, then slipped out the back door of the newspaper, down the alley, turned the corner and crossed the street. Looking at the park, I saw that Crandall and the mysterious blonde were gone. If Andrea knew he was meeting a woman, she would go through the roof.

Going inside the café, I looked around for Maddie, but didn’t see her. Since it was mid-afternoon, it wasn’t too crowded. I decided to sit down in my usual booth and wait. Sure enough, a minute later, she came out from the kitchen. “Lizzie, what are you doing here in the middle of the afternoon?”

“There was a piece of pecan pie calling my name,” I grinned, “and I wanted to ask you something.”

“Well, let me get that pie and we’ll chat.” She hurried off to the kitchen, and came back a couple of minutes later with a generous piece, a fork and a Dr Pepper. Putting it in front of me, she sat down. “Now, what do you want to know?”

“You’re the woman who knows what goes on in town, correct?”

“Of course. I hear things, I notice people, and I can tell when a couple is having problems. Why?”

“Anyone in town having problems lately?” I asked, taking a bite of pie.

“Why?” she said curiously. “You got someone particular in mind?”

“It’s possible,” I replied.

“Does this have something to do with Harold’s murder?”

“Yes, I believe it does.”

“Well, I know things have been rough for the Sinclairs lately.”

“Alan and Abbie?”

She nodded. “They’re trying to have a baby, but they haven’t had any luck doing it the old-fashioned way. She was sitting in here crying one day, so I made sure everything was ok. That’s when she told me. She mentioned something about them having to see a specialist in Dallas. But that’s been a few months ago.”

I couldn’t say anything to Abbie that I knew about this, but I could make sure to check on her more to make sure she was doing alright. “Anyone else?”

“Well, Roger Tinsdall has been mighty unhappy lately. His wife walked out on him. Said she was tired of being married to the hardware king of a one-horse town.”

“Ouch, that’s harsh.”

“I knew it would end this way. She’s an outsider from the city. Never got used to living in a small town. Good riddance to her, I say. Personally, I’d love to see him hook up with Iris. I think they would be good for each other.” She looked toward the front door as four people walked in and took a table near the door. “Well, I better get back to work,” she said, sliding out of the booth. “Oh, yeah, one more thing. Several of the wives in town were upset with their husbands about two months ago.”

“Why?”

“Something about a bachelor party at the Gentlemen’s Club. Their husbands came home tipsy, smelling of perfume, and there were a few collars with lipstick stains. A couple of men I know are still in the doghouse about it.” She hurried off.

I finished my pie, paid Maddie and left. I crossed the street, heading for the park, when a car came around the corner, tires squealing, and aimed right for me. Diving out of the way, I heard the car hit something as I hit the ground. I scrambled to my feet and looked for the car, but it was gone. How did it disappear that fast? What the heck?

People came out from the café and Roger’s hardware store to make sure I was alright. I assured everyone I was fine, and asked if anyone had seen anything. The people that were sitting by the window in the café saw a streak of blue go by, but they couldn’t describe the car or the driver. I noticed that the driver had knocked down the stop sign on the corner, so I pulled out my phone and called Owen. Unfortunately, it was T.J. who showed up. “I thought I told you not to go anywhere by yourself,” he fumed.

“I needed to talk to Maddie about something.”

“You should have called me,” he said. “I would have come with you. Are you alright?”

“I think so. Just scratched up a little. I’ll live.”

“Did you see who it was?”

I told him exactly what happened. “It was over like that,” I said, snapping my fingers. “I was only on the ground for maybe thirty seconds, but they were gone by the time I got up.”

“Well, come on. I’ll walk you back to the office. This time, stay put. Do I make myself clear?” I nodded. He checked his watch. “I get off at five. You stay in your office until I come get you, and I’ll follow you home.”

We walked in silence the three blocks to the office. “You might want to get cleaned up. If Trixie sees that blood on your hands and knees, she’s going to freak out. At least you’ll be home in time to change clothes before she gets there. But you’re going to need a new pair of jeans, I think.”

I shrugged. “I need to go shopping anyway.”

T.J. opened the front door of the newspaper office. “Inside, please, ma’am. And stay there this time. Better yet,” he followed me inside, “Ellen, would you please make sure she doesn’t leave the building until I come get her in about an hour and a half?”

“Sure,” Ellen said, looking at my torn jeans.

“Thanks,” he smiled. “See you at five.”

Ellen came over as I watched him walk back to his car. “How did you get out of here without me seeing you in the first place?”

“I’m not telling you,” I laughed, “because then I wouldn’t be able to do it the next time I needed a break.”

“I was looking for you earlier. Another letter came for you. Looks like it is from a lawyer. I left it on your desk.”

“Thanks.”

She looked out the window and shook her head. “He’s gone; you can stop staring now.”

“I wasn’t staring at him.”

“Yeah, and I’m Joan of Arc,” she retorted. “He’s still the same guy you fell in love with, you know.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” she said skeptically.

“Don’t you have some work to do?”

She held up her hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger. It was just an observation.”

For the next hour and a half, the staff and I were busy trying to get the Monday edition ready. Bruce had done a great job taking pictures, and Ellen, along with three other staff reporters, had written some nice articles about the various events. Everything was pretty much done by the time T.J. showed up at five. Everyone else had left thirty minutes earlier, so I was sitting in my office, reading over some papers when he came in. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, let me put these back in the envelope so I can take them home.”

“Important stuff?”

“You could say that,” I replied, not wanting to say more. “Oh, dang it, I forgot to call Trixie and ask her to pick up some extra BBQ.”

“I took care of it,” T.J. said. “She said no problem.”

“Thanks,” I smiled. We walked through the office, and I stopped near the front door, shut off the lights and turned on the alarms before we went outside. Locking the front door, T.J. escorted me to my car.

“Straight home,” he ordered me.

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll be right behind you.”

“I know.”

I put the envelope on the passenger seat, and noticed something on the floorboard. Leaning over, I picked it up and looked at it. An old black and white photo…it must have fallen out of one of Gladys’ albums when I took them out. I recognized some of the people in the picture, but one person really stood out, but I wasn’t sure who it was. The look on their face was one of pure murder. I just wondered who the object of their hatred was.

“Everything alright?” T.J. said.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, everything’s fine. I just found something on the floorboard, a photo from Gladys’ albums.”

“Well, let’s get going. I’m starving!”

I waited until he got in his car before driving off. All the way home, though, I kept thinking about that photo. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the answer to everything was staring me right in the face.

Chapter Sixteen

“I think I ate too much,” Jake groaned, leaning back in his chair at the kitchen table.

“Oh good, more pie for us, right, Trixie?” I said.

“More for you,” she said. “I want some of that Chunky Monkey in the freezer.”

“We’ll let the men clean up,” I replied, standing up. “There’s something I want to show you.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, following me into the living room. “What’s up?”

I picked up the picture I had put on the coffee table when I got home. “This was in the floorboard of my car. I think it fell out of one of Gladys’ albums this morning.”

She took the picture from me. “I recognize it. Mother has one just like it hanging in the hallway at her house. This was from a church picnic back in the late sixties.”

“Who’s that?” I pointed to the angry person in the third row.

“I’m not sure,” Trixie said, squinting at the picture. Do you have a magnifying glass?”

I went over to my desk, and dug through the top drawer. Pulling the glass out, I took it over and handed it to her. “Does that help?”

“Definitely,” she nodded. “Oh, that’s Andrea Martin, but her last name wasn’t Martin at that time. It was Andrea Knox.”

“Can you tell who she was glaring daggers at?”

“Yeah, that’s Laurie Wilcox.”

“I don’t think I know her. Does she still live here?”

Trixie shook her head. “She disappeared shortly after this picture was taken. Nobody knows what happened to her. The speculation was that she ran off with a boy from a neighboring town. Broke Crandall’s heart.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mother told me once that Crandall and Laurie got engaged at the party. They were high school sweethearts, just like the Norwells.”

“So Andrea is a very jealous person,” I mused. “I wonder what she would say if she knew that I saw Crandall sitting in the park with a young blonde today.”

“She already knows,” Trixie replied, sitting down in the recliner.

“Who knows what?” Jake asked as he and T.J. came into the living room.

“Andrea Martin already knows that Crandall has a sweet young thing on the side.”

“How do you know that?” T.J. said.

“There was a bachelor party at the club two months ago. It was for some friend of Crandall’s, I don’t remember his name. Anyway, Crandall rented out the club for the evening, so some of the girls worked the party in hopes of earning some extra money. I’m sure you can guess what happened. Someone arranged for the obligatory stripper, pictures were taken, and wives found out.”

“I can imagine what the wives said when they found out,” Jake laughed.

“Andrea’s reaction was the worst, and she voiced it in a very public way,” Trixie said. “Crandall was at the café with Harold, Roger Tinsdall, Albert Garcia, and Alan Sinclair. All of them had been at the bachelor party. Harold and Alan actually behaved themselves for the most part, although a very cheeky blonde sat on Harold’s lap and kissed his cheek. Gladys already knew about it, but I don’t know what was said about it in the privacy of their house.”

“Knowing Gladys, she read him the riot act,” I said.

“Gladys was at the café, too, talking to Iris at a separate table. She kept a close eye on Harold for about a month after that party. Well, Andrea had been out of town when the party went down, so the pictures were waiting for her when she got back. I was sitting in our usual booth in the back when Andrea came in like the troops storming the beaches at Normandy. She ripped him apart. It was awful to watch. Everyone felt bad for him; I know I did. Then she started yelling at Harold, saying he should have stopped all that nonsense from happening. Well, that’s when Gladys got in on the action, and she gave as good as she got. By the time she was through, Andrea was dragging Crandall out of the café, and Gladys was hugging Harold.”

“Wow, I can’t believe I missed all that,” I replied.

“Crandall hasn’t spent a lot of time at the Club since then,” Trixie said, “but he was there last night.”

“A blonde?”

She nodded. Probably the same one that you saw him with this afternoon.”

I thought about everything that had happened over the last couple of days, about the letter I got, and about the car that nearly ran me over. Picking up my keys, phone and wallet from the coffee table, I walked to the door and opened it. “I think I’ve got this figured out. Anyone coming with me?”

Three people scrambled out of their seats and followed me out the door. “Where are we going?” T.J. said as he and Jake got into his car.

“To stop a murder,” I replied.

 

Twenty minutes later, we were all standing in the Martin living room. “I’m not sure I understand why you are here,” Andrea said.

“We wanted to talk to you about Harold’s murder,” I replied.

“Why me?”

“We want to talk to you and your husband,” T.J. said.

“Of course. Crandall, would you come into the living room for a minute?”

He came in, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. “What do you need, Andrea?” he said before he noticed all of us. “Hello, folks. What a pleasant surprise.”

“They want to talk to us,” Andrea told him, “about Harold’s death.”

“Of course,” he said, “although I’m not sure what we can tell you that would help the investigation. Would you like something to drink? How about some fresh dessert? Andrea just made a fresh rhubarb pie.”

“I wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole,” I heard Jake mutter behind me.

“No thank you, we’re good,” T.J. said.

We sat down in various places. Andrea and Crandall were on the couch, Trixie and I took the chairs across from them, T.J. stood to my right, and Jake stood near Andrea’s side of the couch. I decided the best course of action was just to come right out and ask them about the poisoned pie. “Andrea, when did you decide to steal two of Gladys’ blueberry pies?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. When did you decide to take the pies? Was it after you saw the pictures from the bachelor party, or when you saw Crandall somewhere around town with a beautiful young blonde?”

Her eyes narrowed as she glared at me. “How do you know about her?”

“Because I saw them in the park this afternoon.”

Andrea turned to Crandall. “You’re parading her around town now? How could you?”

“I don’t know what she’s talking about, Andrea, honestly.”

“Really?” I said. “Because I took pictures of the two of you, if you’d like to see.”

Andrea gasped, while Crandall turned red. “I happened to run into a friend after a meeting. It was no big deal.”

“It looked like a big deal to me,” I said. “You were whispering sweet nothings in her ear, and she was laughing.”

“You rotten bastard,” she yelled as she wrapped her hands around Crandall’s throat. Jake jumped into action, grabbing her arms and pulling her off her husband.

“I’m guessing you’ve known for quite a while about her,” I said to Andrea.

“Of course I did,” she snapped, trying to free herself from Jake’s grasp. He didn’t budge. “I’ve had him followed for the last six months. I knew he was up to something, because money started disappearing from our savings account.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Crandall said.

“Because I wanted enough evidence so I could take you to the cleaners in divorce court. I was fed up with being humiliated by your blonde headed bimbos. I was never enough for you, and I don’t know why! There was nothing I wouldn’t do for you, absolutely nothing.”

“When did you get the idea to take Gladys’ pies?”

“That day that Durlene confronted her about the frozen fruit in her pies. I went through that gate in their backyard, and took them. I brought them home, scrapped them into the trash, and made fresh ones.”

“With the ground up rhubarb greens mixed into the filling,” I said.

She nodded. “I…I wasn’t sure how much it would take to poison someone. I just knew that the greens are considered very toxic. I thought I had spread it even through both pies.”

“So you took them down to Delia’s bakery, and slipped them in with the other pies that were going to the pie-eating contest.”

“Yes.”

I turned to Crandall. “And when did you realize that she was trying to poison you?”

“I saw the pie filling cans in the trash, along with some rhubarb stalks that were missing their greens. We grow that stuff out back. I was shocked, to say the least. So I volunteered to help take the pies over to the tent. I took the ones Andrea had brought down, stuck them in a box, and slid them under a table where I thought no one would see them.”

“How did you know which ones were hers?” T.J. said

“She always uses colored plastic wrap.”

“When did you realize that the pies had been found?”

“After I finished eating my first pie, I sat up for a minute to catch my breath, and I noticed the pink plastic wrap on top of a trash can. I had no idea who the pie was intended for, and there was no way I could say anything without implicating Andrea.”

“So you kept quiet,” T.J. replied sadly.

Crandall nodded. “When Harold fell face first into his pie, I wanted to throw up. I looked out into the crowd and found Andrea. She had turned white as a sheet, her hand over her mouth.”

“But you didn’t say anything when we questioned everyone after he died. Why?”

“And send my wife to jail?”

“She tried to poison you, man,” Jake exclaimed. “If some woman tried to do that to me, I’d turn her in.”

“Well, I’m not you,” Crandall snapped.

“How did the mortar and pestle, the wax paper with the filling on it, and the rhubarb stalks get to the Norwell house?”

Crandall looked guiltily at Andrea, who said, “We took it over there. The police interviewed us right away, so while they were tied up at the fair, we gathered everything from our house and took it over to Gladys’ house.”

“You framed an innocent woman together?” Trixie said incredulously. “Oh my gosh, you people…I mean…”

T.J. pulled out his phone and made a call. “Back up will be here in a few minutes,” he said as he hung up. “You two just sit down on the couch and wait for them.”

They sat down on the couch, as far away from each other as they could get. “I bet you wish you had already run off with that bimbo of yours,” Andrea hissed at her husband.

“How do you know about that?”

“Regardless what you may believe, I do pay attention to our bank accounts. The balance in our savings account has been dwindling down for the last two months. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.”

Crandall started to say something, but closed his mouth and just sat there quietly. Andrea crossed her arms over her chest, looking rather glum. I went over to T.J. “What kind of charges are they looking at?” I asked him.

He shook his head. “I’m not sure. Tampering with evidence, conspiracy after the fact, involuntary manslaughter for Andrea for sure, since Harold wasn’t the intended victim. Since she did it with ‘malice aforethought’, as the saying goes, it could be bumped up to second degree murder. It’s all up to the district attorney.”

“I guess this means Gladys can go home now, right?” He nodded. “Would it be okay to call her and let her know?”

“Sure, go ahead,” he said, smiling at me.

As I made the call, I just hope it brought her a little peace, although it would take a lot longer to get over the betrayal of lifelong friends.

BOOK: 6 Death Takes The Blue Ribbon
10.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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