Classic Revenge (11 page)

Bennie straightened and seemed to shake himself
mentally. "I'm sorry to get off on such a depressing
subject, ladies," he said, his voice once more friendly
and cheerful. "Now, about that patio cover, I'd be glad
to give you an estimate if you'd like."

Trish reached down and grabbed Millie's hand, pulling
her up. "I just remembered that I have an appointment,"
she said apologetically. "Can I call you and schedule an
appointment for an estimate later this week?"

Millie, of course, didn't take the hint. "What appointment are you talking about? You didn't say anything earlier."

It would have been too obvious to kick Millie in the
shin, so Trish squeezed her hand instead, painfully.
"It's my hair appointment. I completely forgot, but if
we don't hurry I'm going to miss it."

Millie raised her eyebrows and looked at Trish's hair. Trish very seldom ever went to a salon, something Millie considered downright neglectful, and her tone of
voice said it all. "It's about time."

Bennie walked over to the front desk and grabbed a
business card while Trish glared at Millie behind his
back, a silent message demanding she keep her mouth
shut. "Here you go, ma'am," Bennie said. "You call me
whenever you're ready."

"Thank you. I'll do just that. I appreciate your time."
Bennie shook all their hands and walked them to the
door. Here was another suspect they could cross off their
list, Trish thought. There was nothing sinister about him
at all that she could see. He appeared to be a kind, considerate man running a legitimate business, and he
seemed sincerely upset about Susan's accident. Positive
that Millie and Edna would agree, she ushered them into
her car and backed out of the parking lot.

"Where are you going to get your hair done?" Millie
asked. "Lynette over at Marsha's Beauty Salon does a
great job. She could get rid of some of that gray."

"I am not getting my hair done!" Trish snapped. "Millie, you have got to learn to pick up on hints without
blurting out whatever is on your mind! Edna was as surprised as you were at my announcement, but you didn't
hear her voicing any arguments. If we're going to secretly investigate people we think may have committed
murder you're going to have to learn to zip your trap!"

"That man is no more capable of murder than you or
me," Millie said in a huff.

"That's not the point!" Trish said in exasperation.
"The next person may be. And, if he's not, I may just
pay him to do it!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, it means nothing." Trish sighed deeply.
"The reason I was so anxious to get out of there was
that Bennie said Mark worked for him now, and Mark
was at the funeral. It would have looked mighty suspicious if Mark had walked in and mentioned that we're
Sam's neighbors and friends."

Millie sat quietly for a moment. "Oh"

Trish glanced over at her. "Well, I think the meeting
was productive, anyway. We seem to agree that Bennie
is not our man, and we found out one of Sam's former
employees works for him now"

"Girls, I hate to change the subject," Edna interrupted,
"but there's a strange car in front of Millie's house"

Sure enough, a dark, four-door sedan sat parked beside the curb. They drove by the car slowly and tried to
peer in the tinted windows before Trish pulled into her
own driveway.

"That's an unmarked police car," Trish said and
glanced at Millie.

"Don't look at me," Millie shrugged and opened the
car door. "I haven't done anything."

"Somehow, I find that hard to believe," Trish muttered as she and Edna climbed out of the car.

The first thing Trish noticed was how extremely
handsome the young man was who climbed out of the
car in front of Millie's house. Probably in his midthirties, she thought as she took in his appearance, tall,
muscular and slim, with jet black hair and dark eyes, he
wore khaki pants with a white open-necked shirt and
brown loafers, and he wore it all well-very well. He
waited beside the car with a warm, friendly smile while
they crossed the street.

"Hello," he said, his voice rich and deep, "I'm Larry
Thompson"

"You're also a cop," Millie said, her chin jutting up
as she placed her hands on her hips.

Trish coughed and hurriedly stuck out her hand. "I'm
Trish Anderson." While her hand was engulfed in Mr.
Thompson's firm grasp, she nodded over her shoulder
and said, "This is Edna Radcliff, and the feisty one over
there is Millie Morrow."

Edna smiled and shook hands with Mr. Thompson,
but Millie eyed him suspiciously before she grudgingly
held out her hand. "What do you want, Mr. Thompson?" she asked bluntly.

He grinned, clearly not offended. "Please, call me
Larry. And, yes, I'm a cop. Actually, to be specific, I'm
a detective." His voice was rich and deep with a sincere, friendly tone. "Chief Espinoza mentioned you
came by the station concerned about your friend, Sam
Wiley, and since I was in the neighborhood, I thought
I'd stop by"

Millie's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

Edna gasped. "Millie! Stop being so rude!"

But Larry just threw back his head and laughed, his
eyes dancing with amusement. "I wanted to meet the
women who believe so strongly in their friend's innocence that they would threaten the chief of police."

Trish groaned and grabbed Millie's arm, propelling
her toward the front door. "Let's go inside before the
neighbors think we're being arrested or something. However, if there's a reward for Millie, then I'll gladly hand
her over. Edna hurried after them, motioning for Larry
to follow. Millie huffed, but she dutifully unlocked her
front door.

Once inside the house, Trish looked over her shoulder at the detective. "By the way," she told him quietly,
with wide, innocent eyes, "we didn't threaten the chief.
Millie did."

"I heard that," Millie snapped as she led the way into
the kitchen.

Millie's kitchen was comfortable, cozy and cluttered.
Every imaginable appliance, ranging from turkey roasters to watermelon scoops, perched on the yellow tile
countertops. When Trish had asked Millie why she kept
all of her cooking tools out, Millie had replied, "They
give me inspiration. You've heard of writer's block?
Well, I get cooker's block. When I can't decide what to
fix, I just look around, and wham!, I get an idea."

Yellow and white frilly curtains covered the kitchen
window facing the front of the house and the bay window facing the back yard. The white cabinets sparkled,
and the hardwood floor was clean enough to eat off of,
according to Millie. Everybody just took her word for it.

Millie poured iced tea while everybody else sat down
around the oak table. "Your home is beautiful," Larry
said to Millie's back.

"I bet he told you to say that," Millie muttered.

Larry looked puzzled. "Who?"

"Don't play innocent with me, young man," Millie said
as she carried the glasses to the table, her lips pinched in
a tight line. "Henry told you to come over here and make
us back down, didn't he?"

"The chief? No, of course he didn't. Why would
he?"

"Maybe he's afraid we might be right about Sam's
innocence, and that would be pretty embarrassing for him. Arresting the wrong man wouldn't look too good
on his record, now, would it?"

Larry coughed and reached for his tea, obviously trying to hide a smile. Trish felt sorry for the detective.
Until you got to know Millie, she could be quite overwhelming, but Larry appeared more amused than
flustered. Trish bit her bottom lip and glanced at Edna,
who was staring down at her hands. Poor Edna, always the peacemaker, she was probably trying to
think of something to say to diffuse Millie's outburst.
Sometimes there just aren't enough words, Trish
thought wryly.

Larry sat back in his chair and crossed one leg over
the other. "All the evidence so far points to Sam Wiley,"
he said gently, "but this is still an open investigation.
Chief Espinoza relayed your concerns to me and said I
might want to talk with you. That's it, I promise." He
held up his hand in the traditional boy scout salute, his
expression completely guileless.

Trish found that she believed him, and by the pleasantly surprised expression on Edna's face, it seemed
she did, too.

Millie, on the other hand, might need more convincing. She glared at him suspiciously as she pushed her
glasses up her nose. "What did Henry tell you?"

"He told me that if Susan Wiley didn't die from an
accident, then you believe your friend has been set up
to take the fall for murder."

And that's all it took. Millie's face broke into a huge
smile. "You may be all right, after all, Larry. Would you
care for some more tea?"

"Yes, please. Thanks, Mrs.-"

"Call me Millie. And the same goes for Edna and
Trish. We don't stand on formality here"

"Thank you, Millie." Larry grinned and then suddenly
winked at Trish and Edna, causing Trish to choke on her
tea. He had been warned, obviously by Chief Espinoza,
about Millie. What a good sport he was, she thought
with a smile, to let Millie air out her suspicions so
rudely as he tried to gain their trust. Not many men had
the self-confidence to sit back and let a woman jump all
over them, but Larry seemed to take it all in stride.

"Does this mean that you agree with us?" Edna
asked, interrupting Trish's thoughts.

"Of course it does, Edna," Millie said, placing
Larry's glass in front of him and sitting down. "Why
else would he be here?"

Larry scratched the back of his head and grimaced.
"Well, I can't say definitively either way. My job is to
keep an open mind and investigate all possibilities.
Since your assumption is not out of the possibility
range, I'd like to hear more"

Millie's smile faltered, but after a moment she nodded. "Okay, I guess that's fair enough"

"The first thing you need to know, Larry," Edna said,
leaning forward intently, "is that we don't think Susan's
death was an accident. We believe she was murdered,
but not by Sam. And, with or without your help, we're
going to prove it."

Trish blinked and then looked at Millie, who was
staring at Edna as if she had just sprouted two heads.
Edna never, ever spoke that firmly to anybody.

Then, as if to prove the point, Edna said apologetically, "I hope you don't think I'm being adversarial."

Trish relaxed. That was more like it.

"Of course not, Mrs.... Edna. I think you care deeply
for your friend and want to help him." Larry leaned forward and looked each of them in the eye, in turn. "But
let me ask you this. What if you're wrong? What if Sam
Wiley wasn't set up, that the evidence does convict him?
Will you be able to accept that?"

Millie sent him a piercing look. "That ain't gonna
happen."

Trish raised her eyebrows. "I would completely lose
faith in all mankind-not to mention in the entire legal
system"

Edna shook her head. "There's nothing that could
convince me Sam is guilty."

Larry sighed deeply and settled back in his chair.
"Well, as long as we all keep an open mind .. "

For the next half hour, the women discussed their
ideas about the evidence the chief had told them
pointed to Sam. Larry listened attentively, jotting a few
notes in a small notebook he pulled from his back
pocket. He remained basically noncommittal, but it
didn't appear as if he was simply placating them, more
like he was digesting their opinions for further analysis. By unspoken agreement, none of them mentioned
that Claire had had car trouble on that fateful morning,
also. It was a piece of the story that only they knew so
far, and besides, it would only make Sam appear more
guilty.

Trish shifted her weight in the chair. "Larry, I know
you can't discuss the particulars about this case with us,
but what happens if we get some new information that
could poke holes in the case you have against Sam?"

Larry's eyebrows shot up. "You're not planning on
investigating this on your own, are you?"

"We've already started," Millie said proudly. "We've
ruled out-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Larry said, holding up his
hands and shaking his head, "this isn't a game, you
know. This could be very dangerous. I can't allow it."

That was definitely the wrong thing for him to say.

Millie's eyes narrowed. "You can't allow it?"

Larry tried another tactic. "What you're planning
on doing could interfere with a police investigation.
That's against the law. I'd hate to see any of you end up
in jail just because you think we're not doing our job,"
he said.

Unfortunately, none of the ladies appeared frightened at the prospect of a night behind bars. He sighed,
running a hand across his face. "I'll make you a deal,"
he said resignedly. "I will do any investigating, and I
promise that I'll keep you informed with as much information as I can. You ladies keep on brainstorming, and
if you think you have an idea on a lead, you just tell me
and I'll do the follow up. So, are we agreed?"

"Nope."

Larry looked at Millie, but it soon became obvious
to him that she wasn't about to change her mind. He
quickly glanced at Edna, who just shrugged and shook
her head. With an imploring look, he turned to Trish.

"I'm afraid we're not in agreement with you on that,
Larry. We're going to do whatever we can to help clear
Sam. From what we've seen so far, the authorities believe they have their man. I can't see them aggressively
pursuing other leads when they have so much else to do. People ignoring our speed trap are running rampant on
our streets"

"It is absolutely unconscionable," Millie stated.
"And to think I used to feel safe in this community."

Larry's look spoke volumes. The ladies' sarcasm
wasn't lost on him. "You honestly believe that we would
prefer to convict an innocent man of murder, instead of
the real criminal?"