Barbara Graham - Quilted 05 - Murder by Sunlight (30 page)

“Yessir. I think you’ve got a dandy idea.” He led Ruth Ann and Tony into the fresh air. Once on the sidewalk, he straightened his spine and smiled more naturally. “The ladies are lonely.”

A pleasant-looking woman stopped her car near them, almost parking on the sidewalk. She climbed from it carrying a plate of cookies. “Oh, Cecil, these are for you.”

“Thank you, but I can’t accept.” Cecil smiled but shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. In a voice barely audible to Tony, who was only a couple of feet away, he said, “Never, ever, accept food from a widow if you’re single.”

“Really?” Tony hadn’t heard of the rule. To be frank, he hoped he would never have to find out for himself. He liked being married.

“Yessir. I did back in Kansas. It was just one time, and then I like to never got rid of my admirer.” Cecil glanced up, meeting Tony’s eyes. “She tracked me to my house. Knocked on my windows. Sent me notes. Put boxes of cookies by my door.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I moved here to be closer to my daughter, but mostly to get away from all that attention.”

Tony was surprised by the gentleman’s intensity. “You don’t enjoy socializing?”

“Oh, yes, I do. I like to play cards. I even like to dance a bit, but I ain’t lookin’ for a woman who’ll likely as not yammer at me twelve hours a day. Life’s too short.”

At the request of Mayor Cashdollar, Tony and Wade attended the very private funeral of Hydrangea Flowers Jackson, in uniform. After the debacle at the visitation, only immediate family was invited to the service in the funeral home chapel. It was a subdued group—a couple of older attendees sported bruised faces and arms, probably due more to the fragile skin of the elderly than the violence of the fight.

The procession to the cemetery grew larger as it traveled through the gates. Once on public ground, it was suddenly well attended. Hordes of curious, some mourning, citizens joined in. The true mourners sniffled and stayed fairly quiet until the last amen. Then, chattering like small birds, they headed for the home belonging to one of the remaining sisters, Gladiola and Tulip, for the post-funeral party.

Tony watched as Calvin politely held the limousine door open for the sisters. Each woman paused before climbing in and offered the mayor a sincere apology. Calvin merely nodded his acceptance. All watching might assume he had come to terms with the fiasco in his place of business, but Tony had seen a copy of the bill. Words were not going to replace cold hard cash.

The twin husbands lagged behind the sisters but did not climb into the limousine. They walked side by side, moving slowly, leaning on each other. They paused near the group of women surrounding Calvin. Tony thought they might not have been invited to the post-funeral party. When Calvin reached into his pocket and handed one of the old gents a small pink notebook with a white cat on the front, Tony’s attention became totally focused on them. He stepped toward the men but encountered a pack of anxious women.

“My sister had two husbands,” Tulip shrieked. “And I’ve got none. Do you think that’s fair?” The feisty woman was so frail she wobbled in spite of her walker.

“If you hurry, maybe you can snag one or both of them.”

“What’s the hurry?”

“You’re not getting any younger and neither are they.” Her elderly companion laughed. “I always thought her husband had a bad memory—not that he was two people.”

Before Tony could extricate himself from the ladies and reach the twins, they had slipped through the cemetery gates and vanished, hidden by a stream of antique vehicles rattling down the road.

Tony decided to give the elderly widowers a few hours to themselves. Now that he knew they possessed Candy’s code book, he could let them grieve for a bit. He’d be surprised if the twins knew as much about it as he did.

Mystery Quilt

Putting it all together

Layout—place the two Block One’s on design wall or flat surface, one above the other. Place one Block Two on both sides of each Block One. Arrange a row of three Block Two’s (yes, it does sound funny but that’s what it is) above and another row of Block Two’s below the center. Sew together into rows and the rows into finished quilt center.

Measure through the center, length and width. Cut 2 of the 2 1/2" wide border strips (B) the lengthwise measurement. Sew one on each side of the quilt top. Press to (B).

Cut 2 of the 2 1/2" border strips (B) the width (before border added). Sew 2 1/2" square of (A) on each end of both border strips. Sew one on top and bottom of quilt. Press to border.

Repeat process with 5" strips of (A) and 5' squares of (B)

Quilt as desired.

Bind with remaining 2 1/2" strips of (B).

“Sheriff Abernathy, this is Deputy Sheriff O’Brien.” The county’s name was lost in transmission. “I think we’ve got a little problem.”

The voice came through the receiver along with some howling wind and static, making Tony think O’Brien was calling outdoors using his radio or cell phone. “What’s up?”

“You know a Kenny Baines?”

“Yes.” There was more static, but Tony was sure he understood the words “woman killed” and “Blossom.” He couldn’t help feeling alarmed. “What’s happening there, O’Brien?” Tony tried to visualize where O’Brien’s county might be. It was not any of their immediate neighbors because he knew, or thought he did, all of the nearby law enforcement officers. “Where are you, and what is Blossom doing there?” He spoke his thoughts out loud.

“She’s not with me.” O’Brien said. “We’ve got a traffic fatality here, a Mrs. Baines, and there is a note in the car from your Ms. Flowers addressed to the Baines woman. Ms. Flowers sounds royally upset in her note about someone trying to steal the affections of Kenny Baines. While there is not a direct threat mentioned, it sure sounds like one to me. I presume both of these Baineses are connected?”

“Divorced.” Tony couldn’t say for sure that Blossom would never kill someone, but he found it hard to believe she would be able to engineer a car accident. “How’d you know Blossom belongs here?”

“Return address on the letter. It’s not like a thirteen-year-old sending anonymous letters. Ms. Flowers is not hiding out.”

“What happened to your woman?” Tony could imagine Blossom being angry and pushing Kenny’s ex-wife, but he couldn’t picture Blossom intentionally killing anyone.

“She lost control of her vehicle. Crashed into a guard rail, spun around, and hit it again.” O’Brien sighed. “It could be a simple accident, but I don’t usually find hate mail at accident sites. The woman was not wearing her seat belt and appeared to be clutching her cell phone. Maybe a telephone threat led to an accident or even suicide. Maybe I’m watching too much late-night television.”

Tony considered a car crash probably accidental. It would be impossible for Blossom to be two places at one time, but he felt bad nonetheless. Kenny’s ex-wife might have been nine kinds of trouble for Kenny and Blossom, but she was the mother of two small girls. “Can you tell who she was talking with?”

There was a pause while O’Brien checked the cell phone. “According to the call log, she sent a text message to your Ms. Flowers about the same time as she hit the rail.”

“Texting while driving sounds like an accident looking for a place to happen.”

“I agree.” O’Brien’s voice was sour. “Unless something else turns up to change my mind, I’m going with stupid accident, but you might want to chat with Ms. Flowers about making threats.”

Tony was relieved. He was even more pleased that the accident had not occurred in Park County. It was not his department’s responsibility to investigate. He had more than enough to fill his time.

He’d barely completed the call when the next one came in. This one he had expected. The TBI lab. Mike had driven the wrench and hammer removed from their suspected attacker to the lab and begged them to squeeze in a bit of testing on the tool surfaces. In spite of the existing heavy workload, their newest technician, Kiefer, had agreed. Tony suspected the man was as curious as he was.

Kiefer began talking almost the instant their phones were in contact. “Sheriff, I do have some positive news. Positive in that the results are positive, not that you’ll necessarily like them. I really don’t have any information about what you want.”

“It’s okay.” Tony laughed, enjoying the man’s enthusiasm. “Quit tap dancing around the news, Kiefer, I’m very interested in what you’ve learned.”

“Well, these are preliminary results but some of the blood and skin and hairs on the wrench and hammer appear to be positive matches to samples you had labeled with full names and secondary identifiers, ‘Not Bob’ and ‘hitchhiker.’ I can tell you they were not the only blood and skin specimens we found on the items.” Kiefer paused to breathe. “However, we’ll keep the results on file, so if you find more victims, we might be able to have more matches.”

Tony was very pleased the evidence matched the presumed attacker, currently waiting in the jail, to their victims.

Tony was not as pleased with the news of additional blood types and hair and tissue samples. Somewhere out there, whether in Park County or somewhere else, other people had been attacked by the same man with perhaps the same level of ferocity. Tony considered the possibility of searching for other victims, maybe still alive but not reported missing, to be the stuff of nightmares. He made a note to himself. “Find out if there are others.”

Kiefer sounded like he was prepared to chatter all afternoon.

Tony interrupted him. “Did you find anything on either item matching our other case?”

“No, sir. Not a hair, fiber, or spot on them belonged to either of the Tibbles, mother or son.” Kiefer spoke with assurance. “And there are no signs that any attempt to clean either tool was made, ever.”

“A man can dream.” Tony wasn’t surprised. “Thank you for your help.”

“I’m serving tea at four, Sheriff. I expect you to be here and bring the good-looking deputy. Not the girl.” Mrs. Fairfield’s voice boomed through the receiver.

Tony did not recall having made a date to visit the woman. “I’m sorry.” He turned it into a question. “Why are you expecting me?”

Mrs. Fairfield’s voice lowered fractionally. “You said you’d like to meet my husband. He’ll be joining us for tea.”

“What’s the address?” Tony didn’t expect to share food with a dead man, but the woman did know how to pique a man’s curiosity. He was positive he’d have to fire Wade or lock him in a cell to keep him from coming along if he got wind of the invitation.

The morning roll call was just about to start when Tony had received the invitation, or more precisely, a summons, to tea. “Have you all paid a professional visit to Mrs. Fairfield’s home?”

Everyone nodded.

“And,
is
her husband in a glass coffin?”

His question was met with shaking heads, lifted eyebrows, obvious curiosity, or disapproval. But one face suddenly glowed with discovery. Sheila whispered almost to herself. “I’ll bet that’s what it was.”

“What?” More voices than just Tony’s asked the question.

“She’s got this long box on table legs sitting along one wall in the living room. It looks really top-heavy for furniture, and there’s a floral cloth, like a scarf, edged with long fringe covering the top.” Sheila whispered, “I can’t wait to hear more about it.”

Tony watched as Ruth Ann took on her new responsibility with charm, dedication, and the enthusiasm of a professional matchmaker. She might even describe the task in the same terms. One at a time, she planned to match a person with a volunteer. The two needed to be compatible. It was especially important to be sure each party would feel comfortable sharing time and personal information with the other.

Ruth Ann notified the senior center and encouraged them to help with the project. Most of those needing a volunteer were not people who could, or would, go to the center, but many of those who did would be able to help her make lists. She put out the call to churches, clubs, and civic organizations, asking not only for volunteers, but for recommendations of neighbors or individuals in need. And money. She hoped to be able to supply old cell phones to those who could not afford them. Simple phones, no bells or whistles, but ones that could connect to 911 and possibly save a life.

Tony wasn’t surprised when Orvan Lundy became Ruth Ann’s first project. He was very surprised when she matched Orvan with her own husband, Walter. “Is it wise to have your husband and boyfriend comparing notes?”

Ruth Ann winked at him. “I was thinking they’ll always have something, or someone, wonderful to talk about.”

“I won’t allow dueling in my county.” Tony tried to look stern.

“Oh, please.” Ruth Ann couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Can’t you just see it? Orvan and Walter, dueling pistols at dawn in dense fog, under the giant magnolia tree in the park. Spanish moss.” She sighed. “How romantic.”

Tony relaxed back in his chair and closed his eyes, picturing tiny, wizened, and gray Orvan in his ragged overalls facing off against Walter, who was twice Orvan’s height, half his age, and had skin the color of caramels. “We don’t have Spanish moss.”

“It was an entertaining vision while it lasted.” Ruth Ann rose to leave. “For your information, Walter and Orvan get along fine. It was a little difficult to find a match, because Orvan doesn’t have telephone service, but Walter said he wouldn’t mind, and I quote, ‘Taking food up to the old buzzard’s roost.’ ”

Tony smiled. One down. Tony hadn’t realized the level of concern he had been experiencing and was ashamed he hadn’t fully recognized the tenuous condition of some of their citizens until it looked like help had arrived.

Tony and Wade stopped by the Fairfield home a few hours before their tea-time invitation had suggested. In case Mr. O’Hara was interested in meeting Mrs. Fairfield, Tony was going to offer to supply the pig farmer with her contact information.

“It’s rude to come early.” Their hostess frowned as she opened her front door to them.

Mrs. Fairfield had her hair wrapped into old-fashioned pin curls nailed to her scalp with bobby pins. If Tony’s mom didn’t do the same with hers, he’d have had no idea what she’d done to her head. It looked painful. “I apologize. We can’t come later.”