Fixin' To Die (A Kenni Lowry Mystery Book 1) (13 page)

Chapter Twenty

It was still early for me to go around knocking on doors and questioning people. The one person I knew that was up and probably having breakfast at Cowboy’s Catfish was Katy Lee Hart. She ran her family’s insurance business, Hart Insurance. I had a good hankerin’ that she’d know if Viola White had an insurance policy on the jewelry store.

Cowboy’s Catfish had the usual crowd ready for grits and gravy. Betty was sitting at the counter with the cordless phone in hand, sipping her coffee and talking to the regulars. We nodded at each other.

“Kenni!” Tibbie Bell waved me and Duke over to her table.

I tried not to make eye contact with anyone else as I made my way through the tables, but I could feel the stares and hushed talk when I walked by.

“I was going to call you last night, but I figured your hands were full.” Tibbie pushed the chair next to her out for me to sit between her and Katy Lee.

I raised my hand when I saw Bartleby glance my way. He gave a slight nod in acknowledgment. It was our unspoken signal that I needed a coffee and he needed to open the door between the jail and restaurant so Duke could go back there. I sat down and put my police bag on the ground and let go of Duke’s leash.

I watched him make his way around the tables with his nose to the ground, sucking up any food that had made its way on the floor, before he disappeared into the door leading to the back of the jail.

“Rowdy told me he’s seen you at the cemetery a lot lately.” Katy Lee patted my hand.

Katy Lee was a little thick around the waist, but fashionable to the hilt. Her blond hair was always parted to the side and curled in long loose tendrils. Besides the family insurance business, she sold Shabby Trends, a line of expensive clothing, on the side. Shabby Trends was like Tupperware. The only way to purchase the clothes was to have home parties and the clothes were just seasonal. It was kind of nice since someone couldn’t buy the skirt I’d bought from her a year ago. Today she had on a cute button-front dress with large yellow stripes and her cowboy boots.

Tibbie leaned in, her stare drilling into me, waiting for my reply to what Katy Lee had said.

Tibbie’s long brown hair was straight and parted down the middle, hanging over one shoulder and falling down to her waist. Her Ray-Ban sunglasses acted like a headband on top of her head. She too had on a dress, solid green with a big brown belt around her thin waist. She had on boots too, but hers zipped up the back and were taller than Katy’s.

“Thank you,” I whispered when Bartleby put the cup down in front of me.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asked.

“No. I need to go back to the office.” I gestured to the back of the restaurant. Bartleby rushed off to the register, where there was a line for people to pay their bill.

“Seriously, tell us how you’re holding up,” Tibbie said. Her skin tone and hazel eyes really stood out against the green dress. It was natural for my good friends to ask me about my life, but I knew they also wanted the lowdown on the investigation.

“I’m fine. A little busy, that’s all.” I carefully pulled the cup up to my lips and blew on the hot liquid, nearly choking on the substance when Poppa appeared next to the table. We were going to have to have a signal, like a ringing of a bell or something, to alert me that he was about to make an appearance.

“Kenni?” Katy Lee’s eyes slid to the space I was staring into. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing. I was just thinking about something with the case,” I lied, hoping they would just drop it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Katy Lee leaned forward on the table, resting on her forearms. “I didn’t want to say anything, but Rowdy told me that you were talking to yourself and someone heard you were seen going into Dr. Shively’s office.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine,” I blew it off. “I have a bad habit of talking to Poppa’s stone as if he’s there. I just had a couple medical questions for Camille.”

“Let’s go. We need to make sure the evidence got sent to the crime lab, Kenni-bug.” Poppa bent down near Tibbie’s head trying to get my attention.

“I’ve got to go to the office.” I stood up, grabbed my bag, and picked up the mug. “I’ll see you tonight at Euchre.” My chair scooted across the floor when I stood up. “Katy Lee, I’ll be stopping by your office this morning.” I wanted to make sure she knew I was coming. I couldn’t openly talk to her here.

“Sure.” Katy Lee’s eyes popped open wide and she drew back in suspicion. “You know where to find me.”

We said our goodbyes. Before I turned the corner of the diner to head back to the office, I glanced back at my friends. Their heads were huddled together and there was no doubt in my mind that they were coming up with all sorts of stories for why I was going to stop by the insurance agency.

“You have got to stop showing up like that without warning.” I put the bag on my desk and looked at my Poppa.

Duke had laid down on the big pillow bed behind my desk and was snoring loudly.

“Going around having coffee with friends isn’t going to solve the crimes.” He pointed his finger toward the restaurant. “All of those people in there eating are watching you. Especially now that you have to step up and get a killer behind bars.” His gestures were exactly how Poppa would act alive. I had seen him give a similar speech to Wyatt when they were working on a crime spree that spread across the entire state. “I’m not saying ignore your friends. Do your job, then socialize.” He lifted his hands in the air.

“I can’t go around ignoring everyone in town. It’s so small, I see my friends everywhere.” I brought up my email, hitting print when I saw the tire photos from Finn. “Plus Katy Lee would have information on any insurance policy Viola might have.”

“Good thinking, Kenni-bug.” Poppa tapped his noggin with his finger. “Keep your ear to the ground and hear the gossip. Some of my best investigative work was going to Stella’s Bible study.” Poppa followed me over to the printer.

“How so?” I asked, taking a good look at the tire marks.

“Those women don’t spend too much time around the Bible. They spend time eating and gossiping. You wouldn’t believe what you find out just by listening.” He glanced over my shoulder at the photo.

I held it up so he could get a better view.

“Here are the tire tracks that had dried perfectly in the mud.” I pointed out the tracks. “I looked in the front yard the morning of the murder, but it was so muddy from the rain. It is possible the killer drove to the back of the house and parked.”

“You’re on the right track.” Poppa smiled, pride on his face.

“Do you know who did it?” I asked, hoping he’d tell me if he did.

“No. I told you that.” His voice cracked. He shook his head. He continued, “I was trying to keep the town safe. I failed you, Kenni-bug.”

“You didn’t fail me.” Suddenly talking to Poppa’s ghost didn’t feel so strange. “Now you can help me.” I gulped back tears, letting go of the fact that I might be seeing things because talking to him made me feel so much better.

This was far better than going to the cemetery and talking to his stone.

“Like you said, if anyone knows about tires, it’s Luke.” I shook the photo. Luke not only had the basement theatre, he owned Pump and Munch, the gas station in the middle of town. Luke was a mechanic and he knew his stuff. “And I’m going to ask him about
Summer of Sam
.”

“
Summer of Sam
?” Wyatt stood in the doorway. He glanced around the small room. “Do you have someone in the holding room?”

“No.” I pulled the photo down to my chest.

“Who are you talking to?” His wiry brows furrowed.

“Duke.” I laughed nervously. Duke lifted his head. “I think better out loud.” I walked over to Wyatt. “Look at this.”

He took the photo from my hand.

“What is it?” he asked.

Poppa stood over Wyatt’s shoulder looking at the photo. Duke jumped up and ran to Poppa’s side. Poppa rubbed Duke’s head. Duke rolled his head in the air, taking advantage of all of Poppa’s fingers.

“What’s wrong with him?” Wyatt’s mouth clenched. He shifted to his right and turned his head to get a look behind him at Duke.

Crap.

Duke did look a little silly, flailing his head in the air, and since Wyatt couldn’t see Poppa, Duke looked like he was having some sort of seizure.

“Duke.” I got his attention and Poppa’s. “What are you doing?” My voice cracked as I tried to get Poppa’s attention to stop petting the dog. “Go lay down.”

Poppa flicked his hand trying to brush Duke away, but Duke was having none of it. He jumped around on his hind legs, bouncing back and forth like he did when Poppa played with him.

“Are you sure he’s okay? It’s like he sees something.” Wyatt looked at the space where Poppa was standing. “You know,” Wyatt scratched his head, “he used to act like that around Elmer,” he mused, using my Poppa’s name.

“Maybe he’s hungry.” I walked back over to my desk and opened the bottom drawer where I kept extra dog food for when I was at the office. I dumped a handful into the bowl next to his bed. “Here, Duke!”

Playtime was over when it came to food. Duke ran over to the bowl, completely forgetting about Poppa, gobbling up the kibble.

I walked back over to Wyatt and shoved the photo back in his face.

“Those are tire tracks from the back of Doc Walton’s house.” I pointed them out. “Finn took them. I meant to show those to you this morning, but I wanted us to get to the bottom of the security cameras.”

“What does this prove?” Wyatt looked at me.

“Well…” I looked at the photos again. “It really doesn’t prove anything right now, but it might tie in somewhere,” I said. “Finn found them while securing Doc’s office. He also said there were smudged mud marks by the door where someone had tried to wipe off footprints.” I smiled, remembering what Toots had said about Doc Walton hating muddy feet and how he made clients take off their shoes.

Wyatt snapped his fingers in the air and said, “Doc Walton didn’t let anyone come in his home with their shoes on. The killer probably knew it and came in the back, then tried to smudge their shoe prints, which would have been evidence if we found out what type of shoes the killer had on.”

“But,” I poked the photo with my finger, “we have better. Tire marks. And I’m going to ask Luke what type of tires these are and see what car uses this type of tire.”

“A good start since we don’t have a lot of leads,” Wyatt acknowledged. “But don’t get your hopes up. Nowadays, all cars can use the same brand of tire.”

“It might be a long shot, but I’m not going to look at it that way. It could be a clue.”

I wasn’t going to let Wyatt burst my bubble. I was going to check all the evidence. Twice if I had to.

“Attagirl.” Poppa stood behind Wyatt, tapping his temple. “Using your noggin just like your old Poppa.”

“I thought I told you to send this off for evidence.” I pointed to some of the files on his desk that had the information on possible fingerprints picked up at the scene along with the gloves Doc had and different blood samples.

“Ran out of time yesterday. I’ll get those off right now.” Wyatt took the bag with the microchip. “And I’ll send this off with the rest.” He looked up at me and smiled. “If I didn’t know better, I would think I was standing here with Sheriff Elmer.” He tapped his finger on the desk between us. “You are starting to think like him. Good job, Sheriff.”

I smiled, taking all the credit. Poppa winked.

“When I walked in you said
Summer of Sam
.” Wyatt pulled out the evidence bags and log where we tracked evidence that needed to be sent off. A sheet we never had used before.

“Have you seen the movie?” I asked.

“You didn’t have to see the movie to know about it. It was a big case. National attention.” Wyatt scribbled on the log and pulled the back off the envelope to seal it.

I pulled the camera out of my bag and walked over to Wyatt’s desk.

“This is Doc’s wrist.” I showed him the Sharpie tattoo.

“Ronald had a tattoo?” Wyatt’s face contorted.

“No.” I pushed the forward button and showed him the carpet from White’s. “This was spray-painted on the carpet at White’s. Tying both crimes together. The killer wants us to know they are connected.”

“What the hell is it?” he asked, then apologized for his language.

I clicked the forward button on the camera again to show him the photo on Kim’s Buffet’s wall. “I went over to Kim’s and asked Mrs. Kim what this was because I knew it was some sort of Chinese symbol.”

“And?” he coaxed me.

“She said it meant ‘family.’”

“Ronald didn’t have any family around here.” Wyatt didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. “So what does this mean?”

“I don’t know. I want you to look into getting his will, calling next of kin and all of that. I’m hoping we come up with some names and talk to them. Did he ever talk about his family?”

“Never.” He shook his head. “But I’m not following the Son of Sam thing.”

“Me neither, but I heard that killer left behind notes or markings or something and it just didn’t sit well in my gut.” I put my hand on my stomach. It was growling; time for me to grab something to eat. “What about teeth marks?”