A Rip Roaring Good Time (28 page)

"Mattie's discovery is absolutely great news and nails Trotter for the rape of Tori Piney. It's a little late to prosecute him for the crime though. And although it might be beneficial to our case, it doesn't prove that Georgia Piney killed him. It's what Judy Jueti would classify as circumstantial evidence, if she even considered it evidence in the murder case at all," Lexie explained.

"But wait!" I replied. "There's more!"

"Like what?"

"I spent the morning on the Internet. For one thing, I learned that the ice that covers Antarctica holds ninety percent of the world's fresh water. And, speaking of water, did you know that by the time you are my age, you'll have drunk an average of nearly twelve thousand gallons of water? In my case, I've probably drunk at least half that in beer and tequila as well."

"That's fascinating, Rapella, but you have wandered far past the subject at hand. I'm guessing that your iPad is no longer going to be used as nothing more than a coaster to prevent water marks on your furniture." She laughed as she teased me.

"Oh, sorry," I said as I smiled and nodded my head at her spot-on remark. "The most important thing I discovered is that one of the main ingredients in fertilizer is cyanide. And Peter Piney worked for years at a fertilizer manufacturing plant so he had access to the chemical. I'm thinking it's likely to be related to how Tori got hold of the cyanide she used to kill herself."

"Hmm, I'm sure you're right!"

"And also, Lexie, the fumes at a fertilizer plant can often cause brain cancer, which is what Georgia's husband died from. I'd think he had to have brought a container of the cyanide home with him for Tori to have had access to the deadly poison. But why? I don't know. I can't imagine any reason he'd want to bring something that toxic into his home to begin with."

"Me either, but I think you might have hit it right on the head," Lexie exclaimed, now as excited as I was. "Do you remember Georgia telling us that Tori couldn't deal with the traumatic incident she suffered, which we now know was being raped by Trotter? I don't know if the girl left a suicide note, but regardless, the Pineys had obviously felt the sexual assault Trotter perpetrated against their daughter was what caused her to commit suicide a year later. That's why they hired the law firm Candy Crushnut's father works for to file a wrongful death suit against Trotter and his family. What are the chances that Georgia used some of that same cyanide that was left over from Tori's suicide to exact revenge on the man she holds responsible for her daughter's death? She probably felt cheated by the justice system and couldn't bear the thought that Trotter was out attending birthday parties and enjoying life while her daughter is six feet under."

I nodded and added, "Good point! And in the same breath, what are the chances that Lori used some of that leftover cyanide to get retribution for her sister's death? Maybe that's what she needed to ever be able to find any degree of closure. As I mentioned before, identical twins have probably the closest bond amongst all mankind. With the exact same DNA makeup, they're kind of like two halves of a whole. In fact, I read they're classified as 'monozygotic' and are formed from a single fertilized egg. So, in essence, identical twins really are two halves of a whole. The odds of being an identical twin are approximately three in one thousand. And you know how adversely Lori was affected by her sister's death."

"Rapella, you're not getting addicted to Google, are you? Are we going to have to arrange for an intervention?" We both giggled before Lexie turned serious again. "Really, though, I think you're onto something. Georgia may have some inclination or even first-hand knowledge that her surviving daughter had something to do with Trotter's death, and if so, she'd naturally be protecting her. That would explain her behavior when we brought up the subject. It could be either one of the Piney women, or maybe even the two acting as a team, avenging their daughter and sister's death together."

"The only thing that doesn't fit into the puzzle is that you were outside with Georgia when the poison was deposited in the victim's drink. And didn't you say Lori was out arranging the items on the buffet table in the parlor?"

"I actually said I
assumed
she was in the parlor," Lexie replied. I could tell she was reflecting back, trying to visualize the sequence of events leading up to the murder. As she played the scene over in her mind, she said, "But truly, for all I know, Lori could have been in the pantry and rushed out to spike the drink when I went outside to assist her mother. And now that I think about it, the mother/daughter tag team theory is not a totally far-fetched possibility. It was Georgia who asked me to help her carry in the tray of meat, not the other way around. And this was after the woman had hauled in a number of other heavy loads without requesting assistance."

"Yes, and Lori and Georgia could have worked it out in advance on how to coordinate the timing. The only thing that bothers me with this theory is how in the world could they have known Trotter would ask you to make him a drink?"

"Yeah, I'm not clear on that one either. But since all the other pieces of the puzzle fit together so perfectly, I think we have enough evidence to take to the detectives," Lexie said with a grin that showed exactly how relieved she was to have reason to believe the light at the end of the tunnel was drawing near. Now, if the light wasn't glowing from the front of a train that was about to mow us down, we might have just clinched the case and tracked down Trotter's
real
killer.

* * *

Standing with Lexie in the police station's parking lot an hour or so later, I said "I hate to use a cliché, but—"

"Rapella, since I've met you I've heard you use every cliché in the book," Lexie said, interrupting me. "Not to mention a few originals I'm sure you concocted yourself. So why stop now?"

"Um, well then, if you put it that way, I—"

"I was kidding, dear. I love your cliché habit. Go on with what you were saying."

"Okay. I was going to say we should have known there'd be a fly in the ointment."

Lexie laughed and replied. "Yes, I agree with you. There's always a fly in the ointment whenever I'm involved in a situation like this."

Lexie and I had planned to relay the information to Detective Russell and then call another pow-wow at the inn. We were anxious to tell Wendy, Stone, Rip, Mattie, Andy, and Veronica our incredible news over supper. We'd even stopped at a local barbecue joint on the way to the station and picked up ribs, beans, and slaw to go. We were both too wound up to take time to scratch up a meal ourselves. Veronica had so graciously prepared a fabulous supper the previous night, and we didn't want to ask her to do so again.

Detective Russell told us he didn't have the leisure of going above his boss, Chief Smith's, head. When he ran our theory past the chief, he was chastised for even listening to two old airheads, one of whom he felt certain had killed his stepson and would concoct any story she could to draw the focus of the investigation away from herself. He stood firm on his decision and couldn't be budged. Chief Smith even told the detective he wasn't going to waste time and manpower chasing down off-the-wall theories and tarnish the reputation of the Piney family without an iron-clad reason. Short of a signed confession by Georgia or Lori Piney, he refused to even consider them as suspects in the murder case. "We don't have the luxury of chasing wild geese all around the county," he had told the lead detective.

"Now that just ticks me off to no end!" I declared.

"Me too!" Lexie agreed. "Especially because the chief's well aware of the rape his stepson perpetrated against Tori Piney ten years ago, and that the Pineys blame Trotter for her suicide. He knows her family's anguish might make for a very strong motive to take revenge on Trotter, as well. But for some reason he'd rather pin the murder on me."

"That really, really ticks me off!" I reiterated. "How dare that moron call us 'airheads', or even worse, 'old'?"

"Well, yeah, that's irritating too," Lexie replied with a chuckle. "But I was actually referring to Chief Smith's attitude. I can't believe he refused to look deeper into what I believe is a very logical and credible supposition. He's so dead-set on charging me with the murder that I don't think any amount of evidence will convince him otherwise. A 'signed confession', that hardhead said. Seriously?"

"We need the Pineys to voluntarily admit on paper that they killed Trotter and then sign their confession to get the chief to even consider them as potential suspects? Seriously?" I guess that really was the word of the month, so I might as well throw it out there every chance I got too. "And here I thought Rip was bullheaded! But the chief's remark about the 'signed confession' made me wonder. Do you reckon there's any way we actually
could
coerce a confession out of one, or both, of the Piney women? Not necessarily signed, but maybe on a tape recording, you think?"

"I don't know, Rapella. But I think
we should give it our best shot! Do you have any ideas on how we can get back inside the Piney home? We aren't likely to be welcomed with open arms, nor can we force our way in."

As we walked to Lexie's little car, we contemplated different strategies. An idea hit me just as we took our seats in the Volkswagen. "Think back, Lexie. Do you have any photos that have your Anchor Hocking bowl in them, even just somewhere in the background? I'm determined to get your family heirloom back from that slick swindler. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone."

I didn't know what caused Lexie to start laughing until she said, "See what I mean about the clichés, Rapella?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that! I'll try to work on that. I guess I need to start thinking first before I open my trap."

"Don't you dare! I adore you just the way you are and wouldn't want you to change one little thing about yourself. Your penchant for old clichés just makes you that much more loveable."

"Oh, thank God," I replied. "Cause it'd be nearly impossible for me to turn over a new leaf at my age."

Lexie burst out laughing again. She reached over and slapped me on the knee and said, "That's all right, dear. I understand how hard it is to teach an old dog new tricks."

We were both cracking up when Lexie stopped abruptly and said, "Hey! I just remembered that I have a photo from a long ago Thanksgiving dinner. Grandma's at the end of the table holding that bowl in her hands. I don't recall what was in the bowl—"

"Does it matter what was in the bowl?" I asked. Wendy was right about her mother's habit of getting bogged down in details that had no bearing on the conversation.

"No, I guess not. But it
is
proof it belonged to my family at one time."

"Could you come up with it in fairly short order?" I asked.

"I'm almost certain it's in an old family album I keep in an upstairs closet. I know it'll be easy to locate. And I get where you're going with this. Let's pick up the photo and pay the Pineys another visit. Okay?"

"Sounds like a plan to me!"

* * *

While Lexie was going through what had to be six million photos distributed amongst a dozen plastic tubs, I used a small bathroom off the inn's little library. When I reached down to drop a used tissue in the trash can, something behind the can caught my eye. I remembered then that Mattie Hill had utilized the toilet right before she left, so I wasn't surprised to discover it was a cell phone. And since it had an apple engraved on it, I was certain it was the one Mattie had misplaced. I had noticed the apple emblems on her phone and my tablet the evening she tutored me, and I'd asked her what a piece of fruit had to do with all these new-fangled gadgets.

I took the phone into the kitchen to find her work number which Stone had scribbled on a memo pad attached to the freezer door by a magnet. In the process, I accidentally pushed a few of the buttons on the phone's face. At first, I was afraid I'd called the Russian Prime Minister like Rip had previously done, but when I looked at the screen there was a message on it that read, "I dare you to try."

Just at that moment, Lexie walked in holding an older faded photo in her hand. She exclaimed, "Isn't that Mattie's phone?"

"Yes, I'm pretty sure it is," I replied.

When I handed it to her, she looked at the message with a puzzled expression, and said, "This says the text is from Trotter Hayes and was sent to Mattie no more than twenty minutes before he was killed."

"Could she have sent it to him to tell him he'd better leave Wendy alone after Mattie noticed he'd shown up as Joy White's date?" I asked. "Maybe she even told him if he even looked at Wendy, Andy would tear him a new one."

"Probably so." Lexie then pushed a few buttons and came up with another text. "This one's from Mattie to him just a minute or so earlier. It says 'I'm warning you!' So, I'm sure what you just suggested is exactly what happened. As you know, she was not at all happy to see him there, at Wendy's party of all things. She's always been extremely protective of Wendy. Like she said, they've been as close as sisters for many years."

After spreading all the photos out all over the master suite's floor like a five-thousand piece jigsaw puzzle, Lexie finally tracked down the photo she was searching for. Before we left, I called Mattie and told her I'd found her cell phone. I apologized for not thinking to search the bathroom earlier. She assured me it was no big deal and said she'd be right over to pick it up, even though she'd just purchased a coveted iPhone 6 to replace it. Mattie was tickled to have gotten one of the new models that had just been released by Apple. I told her I'd leave the old obsolete iPhone 5, that she'd been forced to tolerate for six long months while the iPhone 6 was being developed, on the kitchen table after Lexie whispered that Mattie had a key to the front door and could let herself in.