Jeanne Glidewell - Lexie Starr 03 - Haunted (10 page)

Why was I telling her all this when she probably couldn’t care less? I needed to stop running off at the mouth and get down to the real reason I was here. She nodded politely, and looked back up at the man at the checkout stand. I realized he must be her boss, and she was worried about being reprimanded for goofing off during working hours. I needed to do something to make it look as if this was not a personal conversation. She couldn’t afford to lose her job, and I certainly didn’t want to be the cause of such a disaster.

“Could you show me the angelfish, Sheila?” I asked.

She replied affirmatively, looking relieved to have something productive to do. I followed her to the angelfish tank. “The beautifully colored angelfish is a freshwater fish from South America,” she told me. “They get along well with other aquarium fish, except the more aggressive species, such as the crystal eyed catfish.”

“That’s nice to know,” I said. “The crystal eyed catfish had been my second choice. So, were you and Walter close?”

I seemed to catch her off-guard with my question, and she stammered a nervous response. “I guess so,” she said. “Well, not really. We really didn’t see each other all that often. We never had much in common. I was five years older than Walter.”

“Do you know of any enemies he had? Maybe someone with a grudge against him for some reason? Do you have any idea of anyone who’d want to kill your brother?” I asked.

“No, nothing like that. I don’t know of anyone who didn’t like him. He was polite, courteous, and never in any trouble. I just can’t imagine who would want to kill Walter. He had an awful lot of friends at the college. He was always popular at school.”

“Who, beside you, could stand to benefit from his death?”

Sheila seemed to get the idea I had a personal agenda and was not here looking for a new pet. She made a move as if to walk away, so I pointed at the tank, and said, “I’ll take one of the angelfish.”

“Just one?”

“Yes, please. Small tank, you know.”

“Okay,” was her short, clipped response. “I may stand to benefit from his death, and I may be hurting for a little cash right now, but not enough to kill someone. And I would never, ever hurt my own brother—not for any amount of money.”

“No, I’m sure you wouldn’t. Are you going to be responsible for all of the interment costs?” I asked.

“No. Our mother will see I’m repaid, I hope. Or, at least, she will once she gets back on an even keel. I really can’t afford to pay for the funeral. I live paycheck to paycheck as it is. I had to put the entire mortuary bill on my MasterCard, and can’t afford even the minimum payment on it.”

“I’m sure your mother will repay you,” I said, not totally convinced, since Melba still believed Walter was the housekeeper at the hospital. Why would she want to pay for the housekeeper’s funeral? “Did you see Walter often, living in the same town as you do?”

“No, not really,” she said. “The last time I saw him was at my mother’s house several weeks ago. There was an attorney from St. Joseph there at the time, and he had Walter signing a form to become mom’s power-of-attorney when I showed up to check on her. She has medical and psychological issues, you see.”

“Didn’t that upset you? It doesn’t seem right to not choose the eldest child for a responsibility of that nature. It would upset me. I just don’t understand her choosing Walter to give power-of-attorney status to. After all, Chuck is just her stepson, and you’re several years older than Walter.”

“Yeah, five years older, and, well, frankly I didn’t understand it either,” Sheila said, as she deftly netted the largest angelfish in the tank. “Will this one do?”

I nodded. What the hell was I going to do with an angelfish? Flushing it down the toilet didn’t seem right. I was too much of an animal lover to do that to an innocent fish, which just had the bad fortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“I think Mom always preferred Walter over me, though,” Sheila said, suddenly interested in talking. “He was her baby, and he was a real momma’s boy. I always felt Walter had his own bottom line in mind, angling to get the bulk of her estate when she passed. He knew he wouldn’t make much of a salary as a teacher and coach. Mom still has a lot of investments she bought with her share of the proceeds from the sale of the lumberyard. Dad used his half to start up a refrigeration business in New Mexico, but she has an investment broker who put hers in stocks and bonds. She even paid cash for her new home.”

“She sounds pretty intelligent and responsible,” I said. “Good for her to handle her money so wisely.”

“Well, it’s not really her doing. She’s in no shape, mentally, to handle her own affairs these days. She hired an overseer to handle most of her affairs, and she keeps that lawyer I mentioned on retainer, too, to take care of any legal matters for her,” Sheila explained. “He’s always got her filing lawsuits against one company or another. She sued one pharmaceutical company for not calling her daily to remind her to take her medication, naturally a medication they manufactured. Obviously, the case got dismissed, as have the majority of them.”

“I can see why. Her lawyer doesn’t sound very competent or he wouldn’t pursue a case like that one in the first place.”

“Exactly!”

“Are your dad and brother close?” I asked. I wanted to keep her talking. The more she talked, the better chance of my picking up on any significant details.

“I’d say they’re pretty tight. Closer than Dad and I ever were, at least. Dad tried to get Walter to move to Albuquerque with him, but Walter is too tied to his mother’s apron strings to move away. Walter could have probably ended up inheriting the bulk of Dad’s estate too, by taking over Dad’s company, if he’d only moved to New Mexico. But Walter was too attached to his girlfriend, Sidney Hobbs, to move away. I imagine they would have married eventually. Then maybe he would have moved, with Sidney, to Albuquerque.”

Now I was worried also about what her boss would think with all her chatting and lollygagging around. From where I now stood, I couldn’t see him to tell if he was watching us, so I leaned over toward an aquarium full of swordfish to get a better angle. Just as I caught a glimpse of him, glaring at Sheila, I lost my balance and stumbled, falling squarely into the fish tank.

Suddenly the sound of glass shattering and water gushing filled the little shop. I heard Sheila gasp in horror and the sound of the manager’s feet running down the aisle between the cat toys and the snake cages. I had knocked the tank off its black metal stand. Swordfish were flopping on the floor all around me, amid thousands of pieces of broken glass. One hundred flopping, gasping swordfish is a ghastly sight.

I stood as still as a statue, silently holding my new pet angelfish, unsure what to do next. Sheila stood still too. She was obviously in shock, with a hand pressed up against each cheek. She looked like the kid in the
Home Alone
movies.

“Oh, my God!” She said breathlessly.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “What should I do? Where should we put these poor swordfish?”

“Put them in the tank with the angelfish,” the store manager said. His ID badge read Marc Meyer. Mr. Meyer looked very agitated. “Help her, Sheila, while I run and get the mop and a pail to clean up all this water. What have I told you, Sheila, about paying attention to what you’re doing? This is exactly what happens when you don’t pay attention.”

Sheila looked down at her feet as I jumped to her defense. “It was entirely my fault, sir. Sheila had nothing to do with it whatsoever. She was helping me pick out fish when I lost my footing and knocked over the tank. I fully intend to pay for the tank, and whatever damage I have caused.”

Mr. Meyer was not at all pleased with me, and I knew instantly he would take me up on my offer. I stayed long enough to save as many of the swordfish as I could, and to help mop up the mess. I apologized once again to both Sheila and the store manager before I left. My opportunity to question Sheila had passed.

I climbed back into my Jeep, the proud new owner of a pile of glass shards, seven dead swordfish, and an angelfish that was very much alive and in need of a new home.

* * *

Who would have thought I could cause such a stir at the local pet shop? Like Stone always said, I could get into trouble without even trying. Now I had to foist my new pet off on someone else. The only person I knew with a freshwater aquarium was a neighbor who lived up the street from my home in Shawnee. I was pretty certain the tank in the waiting room at the dentist office was a saltwater tank. It had a couple of clownfish in it that looked like they’d have this angelfish as a snack.

I was going to Shawnee anyway, so I hoped my neighbor was home and willing to adopt an orphaned angelfish. How long could a fish survive in a small plastic bag of water? I wondered. Long enough, I hoped. I’d already killed seven of its distant relatives.

In the meantime I wanted to locate Walter’s father if I could. Now if I only had enough guts to walk back into the pet store and ask Sheila if she knew where her father was staying. I tried, but couldn’t muster up the courage. Mr. Meyer would probably have run me out of there on a rail, or locked the doors when he saw me coming.

There were only two old antiquated hotels and a handful of franchised motels in the small town of Rockdale I would need to call. I ruled out our competition. I couldn’t picture Clarence staying in a bed and breakfast. B and Bs were more conducive to attracting romantic couples and families on vacation than single men coming back to their hometown for a class reunion. And with any luck at all, he hadn’t opted to stay at a friend or relative’s house while he was in town.

For once I got lucky and located Mr. Sneed on my first call. He was in room sixteen at the Motel 6. I’d been quite sure they’d left the light on, just for him. I headed straight for the motel but no one responded when I knocked on the door of room sixteen, and no cars were parked anywhere near the door.

I might have to try another tactic, I thought. Most people didn’t sit around in their motel room during the day. Most were overnighters and got up early to check out and leave. The guests staying for an extended amount of time usually found somewhere to go or something to do. By the time Clarence Sneed was apt to return to his motel room, Stone and Wyatt would be home from their fishing trip, and I’d be preparing supper for us at the inn.

I headed back to the convenience store I had stopped at earlier and made a call to Rockdale High School. After listening to fifteen rings, the phone was picked up by a janitor. I had forgotten it was Sunday. He left to make a call on another line. I could hear his voice faintly in the background, talking to someone over another phone. Finally he came back with the information I needed. The thirtieth class reunion was being held later that evening at the Rockdale Community Center. I had missed my own thirtieth reunion the previous year, but I wouldn’t be missing this one. I hoped Clarence wouldn’t be missing it either, despite the fact his son has just been murdered.

* * *

Now I needed to procure a reunion outfit, as well as a couple of outfits for Walter’s Tuesday night wake, and his funeral on Wednesday. It goes without saying that I couldn’t be seen in the same outfit at both events.

While I was at the convenience store, I filled up with gas and bought a cup of coffee to go. At one time I couldn’t drive without smoking, and now I couldn’t drive without drinking coffee. In fact, I couldn’t do much of anything without drinking coffee. I’d traded one bad habit for a slightly healthier one. But then, I didn’t know if this was one of the days when coffee was considered beneficial to your health, or one of those days when it would surely kill you before the year was out. The prognosis about coffee consumption seemed to change daily.

Back in the Jeep, I buckled up and headed for Shawnee with my black and white striped traveling companion riding shotgun beside me.

Chapter 9

It didn’t take me long to pick out the clothes I needed. I owned one black dress, one tan pantsuit, and one light blue skirt that went well with my white and blue cardigan. They would all work perfectly for what I needed.

I was lucky the Watsons were home and more than happy to adopt my angelfish. I was quite vague about how I’d become its owner. Before I headed back to Rockdale, I watered my drooping houseplants, and decided to load one of my Boston ferns into the Jeep to take back to the inn. I had the perfect spot for it in the library.