A Rip Roaring Good Time (29 page)

Chapter 18

For the second afternoon in a row, Lexie and I found ourselves standing on the Pineys' front porch. This time our knock went unanswered. We continued to ring the bell and knock off and on for five minutes. Both Georgia and Lori's vehicles were in the driveway so we felt confident at least one of them was home. And Peanut was raising such a fuss, there was no way they couldn't have known someone was at their front door. We knew we were being deliberately ignored.

Finally, Lexie whispered to me. She told me to follow her to the car. We drove about halfway up the block and parked out of view from the plate glass window of the Pineys' home. We walked stealthily through backyards and skirted around the Piney home to a position on the right side of their house.

Lexie pulled out her phone and placed a call to her daughter. Wendy, whose voice wouldn't be recognizable to Georgia or Lori, put her cell on speakerphone before she called the Pineys on her office phone. With intermittent, and impossible to decipher, responses, we listened to Wendy's side of the conversation.

Wendy asked, "Is this Mrs. Piney?"

"**************"

"Good afternoon, this is your neighbor up the street, Claire Keller."

"**************"

"Oh, well, you see, I just moved in last week. I'm hoping I'll know everyone in the neighborhood soon too."

"**************"

"Thank you. Yes, I'll be happy to stop by for coffee one morning soon to get acquainted with you. Unfortunately, today I'm getting my hair trimmed at the Klip Joint in an hour."

"**************"

"I use Charlene too. And, like you, I wouldn't trust Kerri within ten feet of me with a pair of scissors in her hand. However, the reason I'm calling is to let you know I just drove by your house and saw a package on your porch that UPS probably left there."

"**************"

"I don't have any idea why he didn't ring the bell, ma'am. Are you certain you didn't hear the bell, or perhaps knocking, just a few minutes ago? You know, maybe even a dog barking?"

"**************"

"I agree, wholeheartedly. Solicitors should be lined up and shot."

"**************"

"I don't have any idea what's in the box, ma'am."

"**************"

"Yes, I understand. Could someone have sent you a gift you're unaware of?"

"**************"

"Nonetheless, Ms. Piney, there's a package on your porch. And whether or not it was meant for you, you probably ought to take it indoors. With my arthritis I can always sense when rain is on the way."

"**************"

"Oh? You too? Well, I'm telling you, if the throbbing in my knees is any indication, this storm's going to be a doozey."

"**************"

"Despite the forecast, ma'am, a fluke shower could pop up. Meteorologists are not always one hundred percent accurate, you know."

"************"

"I agree. I'm sure I could walk outside on my porch and guess at the forecast just as accurately as most of the weathermen on the tube, too. Oh, dear. The timer on my oven's going off and I don't want to burn the cookies. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know the box was there, just in case whatever's in the package might be damaged if it gets wet."

"**************"

"You're welcome, Ms. Piney. You have a nice day too."

After Georgia rang off we listened to Wendy say, "That should not have been that complicated. But Georgia's heading to the door now, I'm guessing. Better get ready to close in on her."

As we heard the creak of the screen door, we rushed around to the front of the house. Lexie smiled pleasantly and said, "I'm so glad we caught you at home, Georgia."

The look on Georgia's face was priceless. She obviously hadn't seen this ambush coming. This time we didn't feel it was necessary to enter her home. Once Georgia got over her shock of seeing us again, and had greeted us in a fashion that could not have been any less welcoming, Lexie exclaimed, "I know you'll be as pleased as we are that we solved the puzzle about the blue bowl."

"Oh?"

"Yes, ma'am. Here's a photo of my great-grandmother holding the bowl many Thanksgivings ago. I thought maybe you could go get the bowl and we'll compare it to this photo. You know, just to make certain it's the same bowl you forgot at the inn."

"Thanks for bothering, but there's really no need to compare my bowl to the photo. I have absolutely no doubt they wouldn't be a perfect match because my bowl is definitely the one you so graciously returned to me. But I do appreciate you stopping by with your concern."

Lexie must have mentally raised the white flag because her desire to get her bowl back vanished. She looked at me with a resigned expression.

Ever getting Lexie's bowl back seemed a remote possibility, but I was too stubborn to give up that easily. I'd come up with something eventually. But for now I turned to Georgia and said, "While we're here, dear, we wanted to give you a head's up. We just spoke with the police chief and the lead detective on the Trotter Hayes murder case. They told us they had undeniable proof that your daughter slipped the cyanide in the victim's drink at the party that night, and they plan to apprehend her in an hour or so."

"What in the world are you talking about, lady?" She asked with utter shock on her face. If she'd been holding Lexie's bowl at the time it would have been shattered by then anyway.

"I'm sure you're as astonished as we are, but I'm sure, considering the circumstances, they'll go easy on Lori," Lexie added. I know she was thinking the same thing I was. No mother worth her salt would let her daughter take the fall for her if she herself committed the crime or had any part in the murder whatsoever. So when she didn't take the blame and sincerely appeared stunned by our comments, we felt even more convinced that, unbeknownst to Georgia, her daughter was the sole perpetrator of the crime.

"Pardon me for saying this, but you two ladies are plum crazy!" The irate woman exclaimed loudly in a no-nonsense tone.

"Take it easy, Georgia," I said to calm her down. "We only meant to warn you, not upset you. The investigators dug up the report your husband filed after Tori was assaulted by Trotter Hayes. And further investigation discovered that, although the police chief was able to cover up the crime, he couldn't expunge the rape kit report that concluded Tori was raped, and the rapist was indeed the recent murder victim, Mr. Hayes."

Georgia was staring at me silently. It seemed to me she was considering the possibility her surviving daughter could have committed the crime, given her altered demeanor and odd behavior since the suicide of her twin sister. She finally replied, "I don't need a rape kit report to know Trotter Hayes is the person who assaulted my daughter, ladies. But what does that have to do with Lori? It was her sister he raped, not her."

I ignored her comment because there was no arguing with the facts she'd just pointed out. I continued. "And we know about the cyanide your husband acquired at the fertilizer plant, that not only was the likely cause of his cancer, but also the poison Tori used to kill herself and Lori used to kill Tori's assailant."

I knew Lexie was recording the confrontation with her cell phone. We were hoping we could get Georgia to make some implicative comment that would be as close to a confession as Lexie and I were apt to get from the woman. Hopefully, we could edit out the blatant lies we told Georgia before turning the incriminating tape over to the police. Telling an individual, not even on the authorities' suspect list, that the detectives were planning to apprehend her soon, might not sit well with the investigating team. Regardless, I plunged right in. "We just wanted to give you advance warning that the detectives may already be on their way as we speak. Lexie and I both think it'd be better in the long run for Lori if she went down to the station and turned herself in."

This time Georgia Piney did respond, but not with what we'd hope to hear, which was a confession of guilt. "You two got it all wrong. Yes, Peter did bring home the cyanide for a project he was working on and yes, it did ultimately cause his death. But Lori had absolutely nothing to do with Trotter's death. For one thing, every trace of the cyanide in this house was disposed of after Tori's suicide. More importantly, I know my daughter better than anyone, and can promise you she's not a vicious, revengeful type of person."

Georgia paused for a response from Lexie or me, and when we didn't give one, she continued. "My husband was trying to develop a new and better fertilizer recipe. After the factory he was employed at refused to take responsibility when a co-worker was diagnosed with brain cancer, my husband was determined to create a safer product. Peter worked tirelessly for years trying to develop one, with hopes of getting it approved and patented in his lifetime. He wanted to prevent anyone else from suffering like his friend had in his last year of life. Did you know that it was primarily hydrogen cyanide that was used for mass murder in the extermination camps during the holocaust?"

We didn't, but Lexie and I nodded simultaneously. This woman was sincere. There was no doubt in my mind she was telling us the absolute truth. Mesmerized, we continued to listen.

"Peter was devastated when Tori took some of the cyanide out of his workshop and used it to commit suicide. If you aren't as familiar with cyanide as I am from the years of my husband's devotion to his quest, the chemical compound comes in several forms. The form he was using in his experiments was a white crystal powder."

I actually did know about the various forms of cyanide. I'd read a very informative description of cyanide on something called a "Wikipedia page" and felt I was quite versed on the subject now. And I was sure if it was on the Internet, it had to be true.

I recalled Wendy mentioning that she'd heard from one of her co-workers at the coroner's lab that the sodium cyanide used to kill Trotter was of the crystal variety, which did, in fact, match the form Tori had utilized for her suicide. But she also mentioned it was probably the most commonly utilized form of cyanide, so not a particularly remarkable discovery.

Georgia invited us to sit down on her porch swing before she went on with her story. "Peter disposed of every lick of the remaining poison in his shop, and our daughter's death effectively ended his quest to discover a safer version of the fertilizer. He was a broken man after Tori's death. And ironically, all of his exposure over the years to the fertilizer he was trying to improve caused him to contract the same cancer that had killed his friend. Because of his unauthorized experimenting with the product, Hill Fertilizer Corporation was not held responsible for his death."

I never saw the wrecking ball coming that hit me in the chest at that moment, but it had to have been a large one. The shock waves that went through my body made me shiver from head to toe. I almost fell off the swing.

Breathlessly, I interrupted Georgia to ask, "Where is this Hill Manufacturing Corporation located?"

"The factory's in Mohawk, which is a surprisingly tiny town for such a large factory. It's about twenty minutes east of here."

I glanced at Lexie, who had apparently been hit by the same wrecking ball that nearly took me out. We couldn't apologize to Georgia fast enough. We explained that we'd only used the package ruse to get an opportunity to talk to her. Together, Lexie and I told her the little white lie, embarrassed we'd ever doubted her innocence.

Lexie put an arm around her friend and said, "We never seriously suspected you or Lori of any involvement in Hayes's murder."

"Sure seemed that way," Georgia said with a great deal of resentment in her tone.

I added, "We're sorry, dear. We only hoped we might get some information from you that you'd been reluctant to report to the investigating team for fear of being targeted in the case. And luckily, we succeeded. You made an eye-opening comment that will be a pivotal point in the apprehension of the real killer."

"Please forgive us for upsetting you," Lexie added. "It was unintentional, Georgia. You know I've always thought very highly of you."

When Lexie finished speaking, we stood up to leave. Georgia motioned for us to sit back down on the swing. She was somber as she spoke to us.

"I completely understand, ladies. I've been concerned a great deal about your situation, Lexie. And I want you two to know I'd have helped in any way I could, but I wasn't sure I could handle the emotional turmoil. Lori and I are both seeing a therapist already, and following the added anxiety of Trotter's murder earlier this week, we are both stressed to the limit. It's very disturbing to find yourself feeling delighted about the brutal murder of another human being, even one who you considered despicable. It really makes you wonder what kind of person that makes you in comparison."