Fixin' To Die (A Kenni Lowry Mystery Book 1) (19 page)

Chapter Thirty-One

I didn’t get too far down the road when my phone rang.

“Hello?” I answered.

“A good lead just came in.” Wyatt didn’t bother greeting me with a hello. I could hear the movie in the background. He just dug right on in. “I got a call from Shirley Babbs.”

“Who’s that?” I asked and pulled the Jeep to the side of the road. I grabbed my pen and notebook out of my bag and wrote down everything he was telling me.

“She owns the pawn shop in Clay’s Ferry and she heard about the jewelry store robbery at White’s. She said she had some new pieces that looked too nice to be secondhand.” He talked and my mind raced.

Pawn shops kept really good records.

“What’s the name and address?” I asked, then wrote down the information he gave me. “Have you gotten any of the results from the evidence back yet?”

“No, but I’ll check on that today while you check out the pawn shop.” He was really helping me out. It was refreshing to finally have someone on my side. “Wait,” he corrected himself, “there was nothing on the surveillance tapes from Doc Walton’s. He hadn’t even bothered recording.”

“He must’ve scared off the coyote.” That was the only reason I could figure Doc would stop recording, just like Art Baskin had said. “If this pawn shop lead pans out, then we won’t have to worry about the video. Keep your fingers crossed,” I said, crossing my own fingers like Wyatt could see through the phone. I didn’t bother telling him my hunches about Polly. If this Shirley could identify Polly, we would have a strong reason to arrest her.

“I feel like you’re really close, Kenni.” Wyatt’s words comforted me. “Your Poppa sure would be proud of you.”

“I am.” Poppa appeared in the passenger seat, smiling. “In fact, Luke did identify the make of the tires, so that should help out a lot.”

Wyatt and I said our goodbyes.

Quickly I dialed Finn. He didn’t answer so I left him a message telling him to meet Toots at Cowboy’s Catfish and ask her about her job at Foodtown and why she had left that out in her statement.

“Let’s go.” Poppa sat in the passenger seat and tapped on the dash. He pointed his finger forward. “Go!”

“Feels almost normal.” I smiled over at him. It felt like old times. “You’re really here, aren’t you?”

“I am.” His eyes slid up to mine and held them. “I don’t know why, but after you got elected sheriff, I was able to watch over you like a guardian angel. I have no idea how long I’m here, but I’m enjoying working with you.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” A sudden peace came over me, as if a warm blanket was cocooned around me. “I’m really glad.”

“Let’s go.” I put the Jeep back in gear and headed out of Cottonwood toward Clay’s Ferry. I could tell Poppa wanted me to solve the crimes as much as I wanted me to.

“You know,” Poppa shook a finger at me, “something is just off with all of this.” He shook faster. “I just can’t put a finger on it. But we will, Kenni-bug. We will.”

The pawn shop parking lot was empty. I parked right next to the door. Shirley Babbs’s shop was just as gaudy as most of the jewelry in her cases. There was nothing there that screamed White’s Jewelry to me.

“What can I do you for?” Shirley stood behind the counter, her jaw flopping open and shut with each crack of her gum. Her hair was piled high on her head, her long nose a little off-center on her thin face.

“I’m Sheriff Lowry from Cottonwood. Wyatt Granger told me that you called in about some jewelry.” I planted my palms on the glass counter and leaned over, looking at the locked-up case.

“This in particular.” Like slow motion, she put her hand in her pocket, pulling out a strand of pearls with a monogram circle charm on the end. “When she brought it in, she was crying, saying she needed the money.” She laid it on the counter. “Most of the time I don’t get in monogrammed items, but this is a real set of pearls. When I got the police report about keeping an eye out for jewelry that might be pawned, this little baby was on there.” She tapped her finger on the circle charm. “A dead ringer for the one listed on your report.”

“I didn’t put it on the report.” I bit my lip, realizing my mess-up. The initials read PP. I had forgotten to add to the report that Polly was missing her infamous pearl bracelet. The bracelet she claimed was stolen. Thank God either Finn or Wyatt had heard me ask her and put it in the report. If they hadn’t, we would’ve never gotten this tip. “What else did she bring in?”

“This is it.” She shrugged.

“Nothing else?”

Shirley slowly shook her head, then suddenly stopped. She straightened up. “I asked Dale and he didn’t get anything else either.”

“Dale?” I asked.

“Yep, my boyfriend comes in to look after the place when I go down to the tanning bed for a half-hour break.” She patted the side of her cheeks with her hands. “I feel better with a little color on me.”

“Back to Dale,” I said, trying to get her back on track.

“Oh, Dale.” She grinned and let out a happy sigh. “He said we got in a piece of jewelry that might be on the list, but Mr. Granger didn’t recognize the description on the report.”

“Do you have the piece?” I asked.

“I don’t. Dale sold it on consignment before I got back. Then a couple of days later, I got your report.” Shirley picked up a cleaning cloth and a bracelet. She rubbed the gold bracelet back and forth, making it as shiny as the bright summer sun.

“Is this the girl that came into the shop and pawned the stuff?” I asked and pulled out the file I’d been compiling on Polly Parker. Granted, it was an old picture, but she didn’t look any different.

“Yes.” Shirley looked at the photo, and then pushed the bracelet toward me. “That little girl sure didn’t look like a killer or jewelry thief to me.”

“Killer?” I asked.

“It’s no secret that the two are probably tied together. I read it online in the
Cottonwood Chronicle
.”

Of course Edna Easterly had already printed something in the
Chronicle
.

“Thank you for contacting us.” I slipped a card out of my bag and handed it to her. “If you or Dale think of anything else, please call me.”

“I will.”

Shirley chomped while looking at my card.

With the bracelet in hand, I knew it was time to confront Polly. I was going to her house. If her father was there, it’d be a bonus because I could question them about their hushed conversation in the canned vegetable aisle at Dixon’s Foodtown.

Twenty minutes later, Poppa and I pulled up in front of the Parkers’ gated mansion. It wasn’t far off the road and I was sure the Parkers did that to show off. They had a circular drive with a wrought-iron gate on each entrance. There was a large lake in the middle of the drive. Four concrete swans as big as my Wagoneer spit water out of their beaks from the middle of the lake. The mansion was the most modern building in Cottonwood and the Parkers didn’t keep it a secret that they paid just as much for the design of the house as it cost to actually build it.

“And just how are we going to get in there?” I bit the inside edge of my lip and scoured the surrounding area with my eyes. The Parkers wouldn’t be like Doc Walton and cut their cameras. “Well, like Finn said, sometimes you just got to be frank with people.”

“After all, you are just checking on their precious Polly since she was involved in a terrible robbery,” Poppa added.

“You’re right.” Sarcasm flowed out of my mouth. “She was so distraught over being violated.”

I rolled down the window and pushed the little black button on the call box.

A red light on top of the box began to flash at a rapid pace.

“Show off those pretty teeth Beverly Houston gave you. Your parents paid an arm and a leg for braces.” Poppa gestured to the camera.

“Can I help you?” someone asked through the box.

“Sheriff Lowry to see Polly Parker,” I stated.

“Hold on please.” The box screeched like my walkie-talkie. The small red light went off.

Poppa and I waited patiently for a couple of minutes and I pushed the button again.

The person finally came back. “I’m sorry, Miss Parker is not in.”

“That’s fine. I’ll see Mr. Parker. So you can open the gate or the front end of my Wagoneer will do it for you. Either way is fine with me.” I hated to get a little demanding, but I’d had enough of the Parkers thinking they were above the law.

A loud buzzing sound came from the speaker and the gates began to slowly move outward. I put the Wagoneer in gear and waited until the gates had stopped opening before I proceeded up the drive.

“Seriously,” I looked out the windshield at the massive house, “what is it like to have this much money?”

“A burden.” Poppa was right. The Parkers had a certain standard they liked to portray and it had to be exhausting trying to keep up. “You’re doing just fine in my old house.”

“You’re right.” I put the Wagoneer in park. “I wouldn’t ever move out of that house, even if I won the lottery.”

Calm came over me as I looked at Poppa. Normally when I had to go on a call or interview someone, I would be a nervous wreck. But with Poppa here next to me, though no one else could see him, I felt so much more at ease. Maybe it was his advice, but even just having him there gave me a little more confidence. And that was exactly what I needed to solve these crimes.

“Sheriff.” Mrs. Parker’s pruned-up face always looked like she was smelling something bad. Her nose was always curled, her eyes squinted, and her mouth pursed. Her brown hair was cut into a chin-length bob and not a single strand was ever out of place. She, like Polly, always wore pearls. I’d bet they even slept in them.

“Mrs. Parker.” It was best to keep it short and sweet. “I wanted to make sure Polly is doing okay.”

“I’m going to look around while you keep her busy.” Poppa disappeared into the mansion, leaving me on the front porch with Mrs. Parker.

“Won’t you come in?” Mrs. Parker took a step back. The heels of her shoes clicked on the marble flooring.

There was a maid standing behind her.

“Please go get the tea set,” she told the maid. “I’m assuming you do drink tea.”

“No.” My answer would be the talk of the gossip circle. Everyone in Cottonwood drank tea.

She drew back like I was being rude. She was really going to think I was rude when I handed Polly an orange jumpsuit to wear in prison.

“Never mind, Miranda.” She turned and I followed her into the front room, where there was only a couch and two chairs. Minimally decorated. “Please sit.”

I sat. My knees were shaking. I really hoped Poppa could find something that would help out.

“Where is Polly?” I asked.

“She and her father took one of his cars to the dealership. It’s a rare car he doesn’t drive anymore, so he will probably trade it in for something wonderful for Polly.” She eased down into the chair next to mine, crossed her ankles, and folded her hands into her lap. Her head turned and she glanced out the window. “Polly has been having a tough time with the break-in. In fact, it’s made her a little more defiant.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I wasn’t. I was happy to hear they were at a car dealership because I could trace any sort of transaction they would have with the dealer, not to mention get records from the county clerk’s office on the type of vehicle and its taxes.

The tires and the bracelet would definitely link Polly to the murder and the theft.

“Do you know if Polly remembers anything else about the robbery?” I asked, trying to buy time for Poppa. I glanced over to the door to see if Poppa would appear.

“No.” Mrs. Parker looked back at me. Her eyes held a sadness. I wondered if she knew Polly was having an affair with Mayor Ryland.

I pulled the pearl bracelet out of my pocket, dangling it in the air between my fingers.

Mrs. Parker gasped. She reached out to get it. I pulled it back.

“Evidence.” I didn’t tell her that Shirley had ID’d Polly to a tee. “I wonder if someone is trying to frame Polly as the thief. Does she have any enemies? I mean, I just couldn’t imagine, she’s always been so nice to me.”

As nice as a piranha. I glared at Mrs. Parker.

“I think it’s time for you to go.” Mrs. Parker stood up and walked out of the room toward the front door.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” Poppa didn’t bother waiting for me. He disappeared as fast as he’d appeared.

“Thank you for your time.” I turned away from the door to face her. “Please tell Polly I’m looking for her. Official business.”

“Are you telling me that my daughter is your number one suspect?” Mrs. Parker asked.

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” I took a step backward, out of the door.

“And to think we voted for you,” Mrs. Parker huffed and slammed the door in my face, nearly smashing my nose.

“That didn’t go so well.” I slammed the door after I got back into the car.

“I think it went great.” Poppa smiled, pleased as a peach. “While you were in there, I went to check out those files in Camille’s office like you had asked me to after I didn’t find anything in the Parker’s mansion.”

“And?”