Chili Con Corpses (17 page)

“I think we need to know more about
all
the men in the lives of the Willis sisters,” James suggested. “Including the recently arrived Gary.”

“And the other vet at Parker’s practice,” Gillian jumped in. “Though I don’t see how anyone who is gentle with animals could be a murderer.”

Murphy turned to Lucy. “How could we find out background info on these fellows: Gary Lowe, Colin Crabtree, and Dwight Hutchins?”

Lucy was clearly pleased that the group saw her as the expert in information gathering. As they all began to overheat in their winter outerwear, she pretended to consider the problem carefully, though James sensed she knew exactly what could be done from her desk at the sheriff’s department. “I
could
sneak in a few background checks,” she offered. “At least we can find out if any of them have criminal records or any other red flags.”

Bennett pulled on his mustache. “The police would have done that right away. We need to know more personal things.”

“I doubt the police investigated Gary,” Lucy countered. “And the more complete a picture we can paint of all three men, the better chance we have of finding a clue.” Giving Murphy a sympathetic look, she added, “Strangling another person is very personal. I think this Mr. Sneed must be one of these guys. But which one?”

“Gary’s too short,” James said quickly. “Unless he was wearing some serious height-enhancing shoes, it couldn’t have been him posing as Adam’s grandfather.”

The group began to shuffle uncomfortably, torn between their desire to solve the riddle and the wish to call it a night.

Lucy edged toward the door and then turned to face her friends. Her face was determined. “We still need to follow through—peek under every rock when it comes to these three. If we keep looking, we might find something the police have missed. So, who can pay Dwight a visit? Gillian?”

Gillian groaned, but reluctantly agreed to take the Dalai Lama back to Parker’s practice for a teeth-cleaning session. Apparently, hers was one of the few veterinary clinics in the state practicing dental cleanings without the use of anesthesia. According to the clinic’s website, which Gillian had read over quite carefully, the professionals employed a technique they dubbed “the proprietary hold” when handling the fully conscious animals.

“I never even discussed Dwight with June. We were
so
caught up with Colin. Oh, I
am
going to enjoy visiting with her again. I should bring her some of my homemade facial cream. She says the winter weather brings out the
worst
in her skin! I make my own remedy out of all-natural ingredients right from the grocery store. Ground coffee, oatmeal, grape seed oil, juice from the aloe plant in my kitchen—”

“I’ll call Kinsley first thing tomorrow and invite Gary to the party,” Lindy interrupted before Gillian could thoroughly delve into the specifics of her homemade skin care recipes. “I can slip in some questions about her ex while I’ve got her on the line.”

“And I’ll try to do a follow-up interview with Colin regarding his behavior at the Ramsay farm.” Murphy quickly explained how Colin had frozen during the difficult delivery of the calf as James had forgotten to tell the group about their discoveries there. He was worried that Lucy might ask questions about why James had accompanied Murphy on the outing, but she seemed particularly interested in the detail of the umbilical cord around the calf’s neck.

“What about Colin’s alibi on the day of Parker’s death?” she asked Murphy.

“Apparently solid enough,” Murphy replied ruefully. “He had cases and worked until late in the afternoon. Same story with Dwight.” Murphy shrugged. “Of course, we don’t know what kind of cases, and both of their assistants were gone before the last job was completed. The assistants leave at closing time, which is five o’clock at both practices.”

“But the killer only needed an hour to eat with us, get down to the caves, and wait for the lights to go out,” Lindy said. “Mr. Sneed met us at the restaurant, so either Colin or Dwight could have gotten changed and applied the wig and makeup in his car.”

Lucy zipped up her down coat. “So even if the police suspect these two, there’s obviously not enough proof to make an arrest. I say they could use our help now more than ever.” Her eyes lit up. “That must be why McClellan wants everyone at your house, Lindy. He’s hoping one of the culprits will make a mistake and say something revealing.”

“Seems like a long shot to me.” James pulled on a pair of lined leather gloves. “Still, I think you’re on the right track, Lucy. We can’t give up on this case, even though we’ve met with dead ends so far. We need to divvy up, investigate, and share what we know at Lindy’s, before McClellan and our three suspects get there. Then
we
can watch them just as carefully at the party.”

“Well, team.” Bennett held the door open for his friends. “Sounds like this is going to be a
New Year’s Eve to remember. Who knows what’s gonna happen by the time the ball drops!”

Milla’s Chili con Queso

2 teaspoons olive or vegetable oil

1 medium onion, diced

6 garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped

8 jalapeño chilies, seeded and chopped

1 Serrano chili, seeded and chopped (or a green chili, if you prefer the taste or can’t find Serrano chilies)

2 tomatoes, diced

sprinkle of salt and pepper

1 cup dry white wine

8 ounces shredded Monterey jack cheese

8 ounces shredded sharp cheddar cheese

tortilla chips

Heat the oil in a large skillet. Add the onion, garlic, chilies, and tomatoes. Sprinkle with salt and pepper; sauté over medium heat until the onions are soft and translucent (approximately 5 to 7 minutes). Add the wine. Reduce heat. Add the cheese and stir the mixture until the cheese is completely melted. Serve with tortilla chips warmed in the oven. For a more festive presentation, mix blue and yellow corn tortilla chips or serve tri-colored chips such as those made by La Canasta.

Lucy arrived at
the library as James’s shift was drawing to a close. James watched her approach from his vantage point on a ladder near the audiobook section. He almost didn’t recognize her at first, for the confident posture of her body and the brisk walk seemed to belong to some other woman. Lucy had always been a bit tentative, almost as though she was trying to avoid having others look at her. Now, it was apparent that something had changed. She carried herself like a new woman.

The physical!
James suddenly remembered.
It was this morning.

“It seems as though congratulations might be in order,” he said to her as he descended the ladder. “Unless I am reading the look of joy on your face totally wrong.”

She smiled and opened her arms to be hugged, and James did not hesitate to do so, though he didn’t draw her in as closely as he once would have.

“I passed!” Lucy said exuberantly as she disengaged from the quick embrace. “I brought us a protein shake to celebrate. Plus, I’ve got some info on our suspects.”

James gave her a quizzical look. “Oh? Better come on back to my office.”

As Lucy settled herself in one of the chairs across from James’s desk, James retrieved a notepad from his top drawer and uncapped a pen. He didn’t actually intend to take notes, but he wanted something to distract his hands in case their dialogue turned uncomfortably intimate.

“Tell me about the test first,” he said, taking a sip of the protein shake. It tasted like mocha-flavored sand with an aftershock of soy, and he did his best not to grimace.

“It’s kind of like an obstacle course,” Lucy explained. “It covers 150 yards and it must be completed in one minute and thirty-six seconds or you fail.”

“That seems like a lot of ground to cover in a small window of time.”

Lucy slurped her shake. “You have no idea. First, I had to sprint for twenty-five yards, and then jump a distance of three feet.” She paused to grin. “You know me, James. I’ve got legs the size of one of the seven dwarves. If you step on the rope marking the distance on either end of the jump, you fail. I think this whole town has seen me jumping over sidewalk cracks and leaping like a deranged lunatic across big puddles after every thunderstorm.”

James smiled, trying to imagine her bounding around Quincy’s Gap like a ballerina, except that her tutu was replaced by a blue down parka.

“Don’t go getting any visions about me as the Sugarplum Fairy,” Lucy teased as though she had read his mind. “Next, I had to climb a five-foot fence. That was easy. I’ve been practicing that at home with my dogs. They pretend to chase me like an attack dog would, and I have to get over the fence before Bon Jovi has the opportunity to nip me in the rear! After the fence, I had to go all commando and crawl under a low rope bridge, fling myself through a window opening, go up and down a set of stairs a few times, and then pull the trigger on a gun within a stationary border. If you jerk the gun into the border, you fail. You must hold perfectly still, even though you’re huffing and puffing like a marathon runner who’s just crossed the finish line.”

James found that his mouth was hanging open. “All of this in a minute and a half? That’s ludicrous!”

Lucy seemed pleased by his amazement. “
And
I forgot to mention that I had to drag that stupid one-hundred-sixty-pound dummy five yards, sprint between each and every obstacle,
and
identify the suspect described to me before the timer ever started.” She examined her nails. “Guess that’s what they’ll be expecting me to do as a deputy.”

“I am really impressed with you, Lucy.” James thumped her on the back as though they were two men in a bar celebrating a football team’s victory. “You have worked hard for this!” He smiled warmly at her. “It must feel so good to set a high goal for yourself and then achieve it. Not many people finish what they start. Good for you, Lucy. Good for you.”

Lucy blushed and then gazed out the window at the barren trees bordering the library parking lot. “But look what it cost me, James. I almost alienated my truest friends and … and I
did
lose you.”

Made instantly uncomfortable by her candor, James tried to be flippant. “I’m right here, aren’t I?”

“You know what I mean,” Lucy replied darkly.

A heavy silence pervaded the room, and James occupied himself by sipping on his shake as though he were desperately thirsty. Lucy followed suit until both were sucking on dregs. They toyed with their straws until they had each drained every drop of mocha shake.

Putting her cup down, Lucy cleared her throat as though she were trying to banish the gloom that had taken over their conversation. “I have other big news to tell you.” She tossed her cup neatly into the garbage can in the corner of the room, even though it was at least four feet away. “Colin Crabtree’s office was burglarized late Saturday night.”

“The night of our Fix ’n Freeze class?” James exclaimed, relieved to be able to shift gears. “What was taken?”

“From what I heard over the wire—you gotta remember that Crabtree practices in a different county—all of the petty cash, a few sedatives, and his entire supply of some other drug. Hold on, I have the name written down.”

She pulled a piece of tattered notebook paper from her purse. As she did so, several gum wrappers, two used tissues, and a flurry of grocery store recipes rained onto the carpet. James shook his head in unpleasant surprise over the amount of clutter Lucy managed to cram into her bag, car, and every room in her house. He expected her to gather up the assorted papers and place them in the trash, but she simply shoved them back into her purse and then examined the crumpled paper left in her hand. “Here. It’s called Wildnil. Can you look that up on the Internet? I didn’t have a chance.”

“Sure.” James turned his attention to his computer and, within seconds, had a basic definition of the drug. “Let’s see, its ingredients are carfentanil citrate, and it’s used as a tranquilizer for large animals.” He paused. “Oh man. It’s also extremely potent to humans. This site goes on and on about the dangers.”

He and Lucy exchanged worried looks. “And Colin was conveniently sick on Saturday night.” Lucy screwed up her lip as she thought. “Maybe he staged the burglary and plans to use Wildnil on someone.”

“Who?” James wondered, feeling a headache coming on. He realized that he had forgotten to take his blood pressure medicine that morning. Settling for two aspirin, he gulped them down with the remnants of a warm, flat Diet Coke that had been on his desk since lunchtime.

“I don’t know.” Lucy pointed at her piece of paper. “That’s not all my news, either. I called Solmes Investments today, just to take a shot at finding out more about Gary, and guess what?”

James rubbed his temples. “Do I even want to know?”

Lucy’s eyes gleamed. “They told me that no one by that name works for their firm.”

“But Murphy said he was talking about his job at Solmes during our cooking class. It’s where he and Kinsley met.” His mouth grew dry. “Oh Lord, do you think Kinsley even knows that he’s been lying about his job?”

Lucy glanced at her watch and then stood up in alarm. “James! It’s after five! I wanted you to call the company pretending to be one of Gary’s clients and demand to know what happened to him. We’ve got to know more before we go to Lindy’s party tonight!”

James felt panic surfacing in his belly. “First the robbery and now this news about Kinsley’s lesser half. Still … what difference does Gary lying about his job make?” He stared at the phone number Lucy had shoved in front of him. “McClellan will be at Lindy’s, so we don’t have to worry about anything bad happening tonight. I can always call Solmes after New Year’s.”

“Come on, James!” Lucy pleaded. “See if someone is still there answering the phones. I think we need to know
now
.”

“I’m no good at this kind of stuff,” James protested. “Who could I pretend to be?”

Lucy had turned pink with frustration. “Just think of some snobby name from your stint at William and Mary. Some of your students must have been from rich, blue-blood families. Put on a drawl and act angry that your money manager isn’t returning your calls. Just do it! Now!” she barked at him.

Responding to the command in Lucy’s tone, James’s fingers began dialing the New York number. Strangely, he felt a calm fill him as the phone began to ring, and he cast a quick glance at Lucy. He was surprised to realize that despite everything that had happened between them, he still wanted to impress her.

“Solmes Investments,” a nasal voice answered after three rings. “May I help you?” The woman sounded as though she would prefer to do anything but.

“Gary Lowe,” James stated in an elongated drawl, deliberately omitting the word “please.”

After a pause, in which James could hear the sounds of murmuring and glasses clinking in the background, the woman tiredly said, “Mr. Lowe is no longer with this firm.”

“What!” James thundered. “What are you talking about? I go to Europe for a few months and come back to hear
this
! Where the hell is he?” James could feel his heart drumming against his rib cage as he shouted into the phone.

“I’m not at liberty to say, sir. Actually, we’re closed at this time, so if you could call back after New Year—”

“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” James hollered at the top of his lungs. “THIS IS RANDOLPH OLIVER THE FOURTH!” He gulped in air. “You get me someone who can tell me where my broker is or so help me, I will have your job, missy!”

“Um …” James had finally rattled the woman’s icy composure. “I’m pretty new here, sir, but if you can just hold …”

“Oh, give me that phone!” another voice dictated from the background. “Whatdoyawant?” a woman lisped as though she was well on her way to becoming drunk.

James spoke excruciatingly slowly as if the person on the other end of the line wouldn’t comprehend him otherwise. He was as condescending as he could possibly be. “I would like
someone
with half a brain in their little heads to tell me where in the Sam Hill Gary Lowe has gone. Why is he not sitting there at his desk
right this very minute
making me more money?”

“Because he was fired for front running, you arrogant piece of shit. Happy New Year!” The woman giggled, hiccupped, and then slammed down the phone.

Replacing the receiver, James immediately returned to Google in order to search for the term “front running.”

“Wow!” Lucy shuffled her chair closer. “I didn’t know you had that in you, James. You should join the Shenandoah Players.”

“No teasing.” James was relieved to return to his quieter tone of voice. “Gary was fired, Lucy. For something called front running. I’m checking out what that means. Aha, here we go.”

Lucy picked up her chair and moved it alongside James’s. “What did you find?” she asked eagerly.

“I don’t know much about the financial world, but according to this definition, it’s when a trader makes his own order before executing a big order being placed by the company or a customer he works for. Because of the big order, he knows how the market is going to be affected and tries to make a nice bundle for himself in advance.”

“I’m totally confused by what you just said.” Lucy shook her head. “Can you explain
exactly
what Gary did in
Stockbroking for Dummies
terms?”

James reread the definition on the computer screen. “I’ll do my best. Okay, so Solmes Investments decides to buy ten thousand shares of stock for, ah … Meaty Treats Dog Food.”