Guidebook to Murder (8 page)

For once, he stared straight at me and seemed to size me up. “He's my brother. In fact, I was the best man at his wedding.”

“He's married?”

Jim King nodded and walked away. Conversation closed.

T
he organist played some stylized version of a hymn I remembered from my childhood's sporadic church attendance with my folks. But I couldn't grasp the memory enough to get the words or even the name of the song. Sadie had walked me up to the front pew when I arrived. The Joneses were ensconced in the other front pew to my right. Sabrina sobbed, adding just a little more volume whenever anyone would come by to express his or her sympathy. Aunt Jackie sat next to me in an Ann Taylor suit and black hat with a sweeping feather. Every time she turned to check the crowd, I got a face full of feather.

“Your friend is getting a great turnout.” Aunt Jackie lived for the party. “I didn't realize so many people lived here.”

“Most of the town is here. Probably to see if I'm going to fall down sobbing on her coffin and confess to killing her.” I wasn't in the best of moods. Todd's idea of a discount and great rate for the remodel and mine were in two different ballparks. But I'd signed the work contract yesterday and wrote out another check. Jimmy Marcum had better have some good news on Monday when I went to finalize the will papers. My savings had hit a record low. To make matters worse, even though I had called and left oh, probably twenty messages, I still hadn't heard from Amy.

“Do you have room for one more?” A deep voice dragged me out of my thoughts.

“Detective King?”

“I thought we were past that. Call me Greg.”

“Sorry, Greg.” I felt an elbow dig into my side. “I'd like you to meet my aunt. She's down from San Francisco to help me with the shop for a few weeks.”

“Nice to meet you.” Greg reached out his hand. Aunt Jackie grabbed his hand like it was a lifeline off a sinking ship.

“Jackie, call me Jackie.” She scooted over and patted the seat between us. “Have a seat, Greg. It's so nice of you to comfort Jill in this trying time.”

I didn't like the way she said
comfort
.

Greg sat down between us and leaned closer to me, and I could feel the words chilling my neck when he whispered, “Have you heard from your friend?”

“No, and I rang her phone off the wall last night. Have you found anything?” I didn't like the fear in my voice.

“Mayor Baylor said he had a message from a girl on his home message machine saying that Amy had asked him to call because they were going surfing some big wave. She didn't leave a name or number.” Greg paused for a moment while a woman stopped by to tell me what a loss Miss Emily would be to the community.

“So, can't you pull phone records or something?” I asked as soon as I was able to break free from the condolence.

“Not without the mayor's permission. He seems to think that she's fine, just needed a few days off.” Greg looked back over his shoulder to find his boss in the crowd and make sure he was out of earshot. “Would she just take off like this? I've been told to ignore the missing person's report after that call. But something just doesn't feel right.”

“She's always taking off for the big wave, but she'd never leave me like this. She knows how upset I've been. She would have been here for the funeral.” I pondered my next words carefully. I had already mentioned the mayor's meeting, but I had left out the part about Amy hiding under her desk talking to me. “Greg, Amy told me that the mayor had a meeting with the lawyer who's processing the city's suit against Miss Emily's house and Eric Ammond.”

“And that means what? The mayor has a lot of meetings with a lot of different people.” Greg moved even closer to keep Aunt Jackie from hearing my answer.

“She wasn't supposed to be there. She'd left for lunch, and the meeting wasn't on the calendar. She called me from under her desk.”

Greg laughed. “Under the desk?”

“It's not funny, she was scared.”

“Why didn't you tell me this yesterday? I could have worked this into my discussions with the mayor before he told me to close down the missing person's case.” Greg sat back on the wooden pew, folding his arms. “You've got to learn to trust me.”

The preamble music suddenly stopped, and the minister stood to greet us. As we bowed our heads for the opening prayer, I snuck a peek at the gorgeous uniformed man next to me.

Stop. Breathe.

I needed to keep him on my side until we found Miss Emily's killer and the missing Amy. Then I could tell him what I really thought of him.

 

Streams of people stopped by my table after the service to express their sympathy. Or at least it felt like streams of people. Luckily, I had Aunt Jackie. She could make friends anywhere. She kept inviting people to stop by the coffee shop, marketing at a funeral. Aunt Jackie had stopped by the church yesterday and donated several pounds of our daily blend coffee and apparently coffee cups, as well. Coffee, Books, and More's logo was plastered all over the service, including on the drink glasses. Tacky? Probably, but it seemed to be working.

I had a table on one side of the room, and George and Sabrina were camped out on the other side. They hadn't said one word to me all day, but I had gotten plenty of stares from people who stopped by to console the Joneses. I was sure the comments about me weren't good, especially after what Sadie'd told me yesterday. I just didn't have the strength to give them a piece of my mind today.

Sadie Michaels set a piece of apple pie and a fresh cup of coffee in front of me. She plopped her fluffy five-foot-two frame down next to me. “If you aren't coming to my apple pie, my apple pie comes to you.” She pushed aside my plate, which had bites out of everything, but nothing had been finished. I'd been too scared to even try the green Jell-O salad. Even my roll had been shredded rather than consumed. Not my best clean plate moment. As a kid, I wouldn't even have been able to see the apple pie, let alone have it delivered directly to me.

“My dogs are barking.” She slipped off her worn, black two-inch heels and stretched out her toes. “Eat.” She pointed at the pie. “You don't want to insult me, now, do ya?”

“I'm sorry, I just don't have an appetite today.” To be polite, I grabbed the fork and took a bite of the pie. The warm cinnamon and caramel sauce surrounding the apples filled my mouth and woke up my taste buds. I took a second bite, this one a little larger. The crust flaked and melted in my mouth. It wasn't chocolate, but the creamy apple cinnamon was the next best thing.

“This is amazing.” I handed my fork to Aunt Jackie and pushed the plate toward her. “Taste this pie.”

Sadie beamed. “I'm so glad you like it. I've been meaning to come over to the shop. I've been doing mostly wedding cakes, but I've been playing with different pie recipes for about a month now.”

Aunt Jackie swallowed her bite, then stood. “I'm going to get a piece.”

“You won her over.” I watched my aunt float through the thinning crowd, greeting people like they were her oldest friends.

“I didn't have the courage to come and talk to you, at the last chamber meeting,” Sadie confided, her eyes on her cup.

“You should have. I'm sure we can work out an order for the shop.” My mind raced forward: How many pies could we sell in a week? Adding a new treat to my lineup of breakfast items might extend my customers into the afternoon and early evening. “Sadie, I never thanked you and the other women for pulling this together. I'm sure that Miss Emily would have appreciated it.”

“Don't worry about thanking us. We serve God by taking care of those left behind. Most of us don't have a full-time job or a business. We take care of the church and have our visitation routes.”

“I'm sure Miss Emily appreciated your visits.”

“I was glad to be there, especially when that girl showed up with the baby pictures. I thought Miss Emily would have a heart attack then and there.”

“What?” I sat up, my alarms going off. “Who showed up?”

“I didn't want to intrude on family business. The girl was somehow related to Miss Emily. I didn't stay for the whole discussion.”

“Did you get a name?”

“Crystal. What was her last name? Dunn. Crystal Dunn. Cute baby, Annie, that's the baby's name.”

“How was she related, did you find out?”

“I thought she said the baby was Miss Emily's great-grandbaby.”

“I thought Bob was Miss Emily's only child.”

“He was.” Sadie frowned toward the kitchen. “It looks like there's a crisis in the kitchen. I'll bring a few pies by the shop next week for you to sample.”

“I'll let Aunt Jackie know you're coming. Thanks again.” I watched Sadie walk back to the kitchen, my mind whirling.

S
aturday morning started like one of those autumn days that make you feel summer would go on forever. The warm breeze gently pushing the limbs of the trees around let the loose leaves cascade to the ground. The white linen curtains on my open bedroom window were floating in the same warm breeze.

Time to move forward. Time to find Amy, figure out what had happened to Miss Emily, and paint the kitchen now that the new appliances had been delivered and installed late yesterday. I didn't realize how tired I would be after the funeral, so when I finally got back to the house, seeing the appliance truck pull up wasn't a welcome sight.

Pulling on sweats and a T-shirt, I headed downstairs to start coffee and start moving the furniture out of the kitchen before laying old sheets down to keep the hardwood floors from being splattered with paint. The kitchen would be sunny yellow by the end of the day, with one accent wall in a spring green. Bright and cheery, and I had just the Miss Emily original landscape to go on the wall to finish off the look. The tile backsplash, although dated, seemed classic in design and thankfully didn't need to be replaced. I started the coffee and called Amy again. This time her answering machine came on immediately telling me that the mailbox was full of my messages and that I couldn't leave another one. Her cell must be dead.

I pulled out my laptop and searched for a phone listing for Crystal Dunn. There were several Dunns listed, most outside the local area, but one, a C. Dunn, lived in Bakerstown. I wrote down the address and phone number. After I finished painting, I'd take a drive over to Bakerstown. Grabbing a cup of coffee, I headed to the study and sat down at the desk. I went through the drawers, looking for the picture that Sadie had seen. I hit pay dirt in the bottom drawer.

She'd been right, the baby was cute. I turned the photograph over, and on the back, someone had written
Annie Dunn, three months
. I put the picture in my purse and called Jimmy Marcum. He agreed to meet me at three in his office.

Why had Miss Emily chosen me to inherit? Maybe Jimmy had answers that would ease my mind. I understood her choice not to leave anything to the Joneses, but the baby should have been an easy choice. There had to be more to the story that I didn't know yet. I had five hours to get my painting done before I had to leave to meet Mr. Marcum. I grabbed some cereal and sat down at the desk to eat before I turned the kitchen into my own art gallery.

 

“I'm glad you called me. This way I can have you sign today, and by Monday I can have at least the liquid assets transferred to your bank.” Jimmy Marcum sat down in his leather chair behind the walnut desk. “I had my secretary get everything together on Friday, and she put it somewhere here.” He shuffled through the files that completely covered the top of his desk.

“I wanted to ask you if Miss Emily had any other heirs, besides George and Sabrina, that is.” I sat up taller in the chair, trying to see over the manila files.

“Heirs? No, beside George and you, there wasn't anyone else listed in the will.” Jimmy contemplated me over the files.

“She never mentioned this little girl?” I handed over the picture of Annie.

Jimmy took the picture and regarded the picture, turning it over. “She said someone had come by claiming to be the mother of her great-grandbaby, but there wasn't any evidence. Since the father was deceased, no one could verify the paternity of the child.” He handed the picture back to me. “Here's the file.”

“You talked to the girl?”

“I did. She told me that Joshua Williams was the father and she'd been told he might be Miss Emily's grandson.” Jimmy cleared off a space on the desk and started looking over the papers.

“How is that possible? Miss Emily's son died in Vietnam.”

“He did. And she had no other children. We figured the girl was trying to run a scam. I wanted to call the police, but Miss Emily refused. I guess she had a soft spot for the baby.” He picked up the paperwork and handed it to me. “There are just a few places where you need to sign and date.”

I wasn't sure this was the right move. If the baby was related to Miss Emily, she should be getting this estate, not me. “I don't know.”

“Jill, I promise you that baby is no more related to Miss Emily than I am. She wanted you to have the house. I'm sure the money will help make the place livable.”

Livable and up to code so the mayor and his friends couldn't sweep in to tear it down. My savings account was drier than a load of clothes right out of the cycle. I could certainly use the influx of cash, especially with the construction guys showing up on Monday. I put the picture back into my purse.

“Where do I sign?”

Heading out of Jimmy's office just over a half a million dollars richer, I felt stunned. I never thought I'd be able to feel comfortable even in the perfect job. Bills seemed to always fill in any pay increases I had earned. I had walked away from my former career with a nice nest egg, but nothing like this. I figured getting the house up to the council's code would take close to a hundred grand. The inheritance would refill my security coffers without me worrying about the financial security of the coffee shop. Maybe I could make some of the changes that Aunt Jackie had been talking about at the shop.

Maybe I'd even replace old Betsy in a couple of months rather than a few years. I loved my Jeep, but its repair bills were matching the loan payments. I threw my purse toward the Jeep's passenger seat. I missed the seat and the purse fell upside down, dumping everything on the floor.

I grabbed my wallet, my ChapStick, my notebook and pens, and came upon the picture of Annie. It wouldn't hurt to just go visit and see if C. Dunn was Crystal. And even though Jimmy had totally dismissed the idea of the baby being Miss Emily's great-granddaughter, I needed to feel comfortable before I started spending the inheritance as if it was my own.

My evil side tried to talk me out of opening Pandora's box. That was when I knew that I had to go investigate. I never trusted that voice.

The address for C. Dunn took me just to the edge of the bad side of town. Houses here were small but well-kept, lawns green and flower beds well-established if not overgrown. The mailbox out front just said
Dunn
. No first name. I sat in my Jeep in front of the house mulling over what I would say. “Hi, I'm the woman who got the money you were trying to scam out of Miss Emily?” That seemed a little harsh. As I was still going over opening lines, each one worse than the last, my cell phone rang.

I didn't recognize the number, but I picked up anyway. It was probably the construction crew telling me the house had to be torn down due to ginormous termites living in the basement. “Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?” a male voice asked.

“In Bakerstown.” Now I knew there was trouble at the house. It had to be one of the construction guys, since no other guy ever called me. “Tell me, what's wrong with the house now?”

“The house looks fine from what I can see. The outside is a mess and you can't even tell that the lawn was mowed yesterday due to the siding demolition, but I'm sure they'll clean that up before they leave. Why are you in Bakerstown?” the voice asked.

“Who is this?”

“Greg. Greg King. Who did you think it was?” Greg's voice boomed through the phone.

“I thought it was one of the builders telling me the house had fallen in on its foundation.” I sighed, relieved that the house hadn't realized that my savings account had been refilled and decided to tap it for more changes.

“So again, now that you know it's not one of the builders, I repeat my question. Why are you in Bakerstown when you are supposed to be here?”

“I stopped by Jimmy Marcum's to sign the final estate transfer paperwork, and now I'm sitting in front of a house wondering if I should go in.” I shouldn't have said that last part.

“Sitting in front of whose house?” Greg's investigative tone came over the phone.

I opened the door, I might as well share, and maybe Greg would have insight as to how I should do this. “Crystal Dunn's house, I hope.”

“Who's Crystal Dunn, or do I want to ask?”

“I found this picture of a baby, Annie. Sadie from the church said that Crystal had brought Miss Emily a picture of the baby, Miss Emily's granddaughter. Well, great-grandbaby.” I continued to watch the house.

“And you thought you'd see if everyone else was wrong? Girl, why can't you leave things alone? You remember that Miss Emily's killer still hasn't been found, and this is an open investigation. Right?”

“I just wanted to meet her.” Why did I feel like a teenager being corrected for staying out late?

“Let me do the detective work. It is my job, you know.”

“I know, I just thought—” God, I sounded like a whiny teenager.

Greg interrupted. “You didn't think. Now get out of there and get back here. I'm sure there are enough things at the house to keep you busy and out of trouble.”

“Fine.” I hung up the phone. I didn't need someone telling me what to do. Although I hadn't thought about the possibility that Crystal could have killed Miss Emily. Even though I hadn't met the girl, her being a murderer didn't seem right.

Wait, what was Greg doing at my house? Then I remembered.

We were supposed to go and see the puppies today.

I put my phone down and started to pull the Jeep away from the curb, but something caught my eye.

An older sedan pulled into the small driveway. I watched as a young man got out of the driver's side, a blonde woman in her early twenties climbing out the other. They both went to the back and opened the doors. He pulled out two bags of groceries and a twelve-pack of soda. She reached in and pulled out a baby. When they reached the front door, the man pulled keys out of his pocket, and opening the door, gave the baby a kiss on the way in. If this was Crystal Dunn and Annie, there seemed to already be a father attached to that baby. Maybe Jimmy Marcum and Miss Emily were right; the visit had been a con.

I watched the couple struggle with the diaper bags and the groceries. When they finally got everything inside and closed the door, blocking my view, I wrote down the address and phone number from my scribbled note to my notebook. I'd call in a few days if I couldn't get the baby out of my mind. I had run around on some wild goose chase when I should be back in South Cove working on the house and getting a new puppy with Greg.

Married Greg
.

Okay, so missing the puppy run probably wasn't the worst idea I'd had for a while. I put the Jeep into gear and headed back to South Cove. First, though, now that my savings coffers were built back up, a stop at the Home Heaven was in order. Both bathrooms needed to be refurbished, and I might as well get some idea of pricing while in town. And maybe a few more cans of paint.

The phone rang again. Probably Greg checking up on me to see if I'd left the Dunn house. I picked up and said, “I'm on my way to the home improvement store. What do you want?”

“Why are you wasting your time fixing up that house? You'll be the next body Doc Ames will cart out of there if you don't sell.” The phone line went dead.