Jeanne Glidewell - Lexie Starr 03 - Haunted (20 page)

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to talk to you much a little while ago,” I told Paula. “How is everyone holding up?”

“Okay, Ms. Reed,” she said. “We just saw Audrey McCoy waltz in, and none of us can believe she had the nerve to come here. That is, like, so inappropriate.”

“Oh, I agree, Paula,” I replied. “Why do you think she decided to come?”

“To irritate Sidney, probably. She knows Sidney can’t really confront her at Walter’s wake. Fortunately, I think Sidney has already left, or there could’ve been an ugly scene between the two of them.”

“Sidney has left,” I assured her. “I saw her leave with her parents a little while ago.”

“Good. She’s torn up enough as it is, without having Audrey instigate more heartache for her. You should speak to her, Rhonda, for your newspaper article,” Paula said. “Audrey’s the gal in the purple sweater up by the casket. I still think she’s capable of murdering Walter.”

“Really?”

“Yes. She’d do just about anything to hurt Sidney. They absolutely hate each other’s guts. And she can’t have been too thrilled when Walter dumped her after just one date to go back to Sidney, her archenemy. It had to have been humiliating for her.”

There was that “archenemy” thing again. Guess what, people? DC Comics called, and they want their characters back. Good grief! I wonder what special superhuman powers this young lady possessed. What was up with that, anyway?

“Hmm, I see your point, Paula. Maybe I’ll go see if she knows anything,” I said. I didn’t know how or when I would get another opportunity to speak with Audrey. I might just have to allow this one little exception to my vow not to question anyone else on my suspect list tonight at the wake. Like Paula said, she shouldn’t be at the wake to begin with.

I meandered over to where Audrey was standing next to the casket. She was looking intently down at Walter’s face. She wore a very odd expression, almost a smirk. I walked up and stood beside her for a few moments. I waited quietly and watched her do something I thought was rather strange. She reached into the casket and placed her open palm on the left side of Walter’s chest for about ten or fifteen seconds, as if feeling for a heartbeat. Then, as if satisfied she couldn’t find one, she nodded and withdrew her hand.

“Doesn’t he look good?” I asked politely. “Was Walter a friend of yours?”

“Not really,” she said.

“Did you use to date the young man?”

“We went out just once, and then the bastard e-mailed me to tell me it wouldn’t work out between us. He said he just didn’t feel like we’d made any kind of connection, or had anything in common. He also said he missed Sidney and wanted to try to make up with her in the e-mail message he sent me.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. I hoped I sounded more sincere than I felt.

“He could have at least told me all this in person, the gutless piece of crap,” Audrey said.

Audrey was being very open and talkative, considering the fact she had no clue who I was. She didn’t seem to care if anyone and everyone knew she had issues with both Walter and his long-time girlfriend, Sidney. Would someone with something to hide be this informative, or this obviously hateful of the deceased?

“I think he just asked me out to make his girlfriend jealous enough to take him back. He knew Sidney and I didn’t get along, and going out with me would make her more jealous than going out with anyone else could. They’d been going together for a long time and were kind of going through a rough spell. I only wanted to help him get over it,” Audrey said. “But Walter really was a jerk. I don’t know what she saw in him. And I don’t know what he saw in her, either.”

“It doesn’t sound like you cared much for him or Sidney, so why did you come tonight?” I asked. “I should have thought you’d avoid this visitation like the plague.”

“I don’t know. Maybe just to make sure he was really dead. I couldn’t believe it when I heard the news of his death. Personally, I think he had it coming. It’s kind of rewarding to see Sidney get her due too. I don’t see her here though.”

“She was here earlier. She’s very, very distraught,” I assured her. “I didn’t get a chance to speak with her, though.”

“Good. I’m glad his death is so painful for her. That’s what she gets!”

Wow, this girl was vicious. A young man was dead, and she was thrilled about it. I could understand why Sidney and the rest of the cheerleading squad didn’t care for her. She was almost sociopathic. I noticed she’d never turned to look directly at me, but was staring at Walter throughout our entire conversation, as if she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

“Do you know anyone who would have wanted Walter dead?” I asked.

“You mean besides me?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“Not really. He was an athlete and pretty popular with the other guys,” Audrey said. “His best friend, Joey Cox, was the homecoming king, quarterback, and all that in high school. Joey was easily the most popular guy in high school. Just being Joey’s best friend made Walter pretty popular. He was popular by association, I think. It couldn’t be his own personality, that’s for sure.”

“Is Joey a college student here in town too?” I asked. His best friend should know if Walter had any enemies, anyone who might want to harm him. Had the police questioned him? I wondered. He might not be responsible for his best friend’s death, but he might have some insight about who could be.

“No, he went to a trade school out in Wyoming for a couple years, and he just started as a mechanic at a garage in town.” She sounded more sociable now, less menacing. Perhaps she suffered from a bipolar disorder.

“Is Joey here tonight?”

“He was, but he was leaving just as I arrived,” Audrey replied. “He looked pretty torn up, and hurrying along as if he just couldn’t bear to stay any longer.”

“Do you know where the garage is located?” I asked. You’d think Audrey would question why I cared where Walter’s best friend worked, but she didn’t seem to. She still had no clue who I was, and hadn’t bothered to inquire either. She didn’t seem to mind me asking her questions, nor did she seem to care what kind of impression she left on me. This wasn’t typical behavior for a murderer, I shouldn’t imagine. Still, she was adamant in her dislike of the guy.

“The garage is next to the hardware store on Sixth Street. It’s called Boney’s. An old guy, who’s known as one of the founding fathers of Rockdale, started the garage years ago, and Boney was his nickname. As a matter of fact, Joey changed my oil just the other day.” As she finished speaking, she stepped back from the casket and faltered a bit. She looked as if she was on the verge of fainting, so I grabbed her arm to steady her.

“Are you okay?” I asked. I wondered if she might be having a low blood sugar reaction. Something told me if she had insulin, she wouldn’t mind injecting Walter with some of it. Or even Sidney, if she got half a chance. “Are you diabetic, by any chance? Do you need something sweet to eat?”

Audrey pulled away from my grasp, and declared, “No, of course not. What are you implying? I haven’t gotten much sleep the last couple of days, and I didn’t eat much today, so I feel a little weak. That’s all there is to it.”

Suddenly she was distrustful of my interest in her. I doubted I would get much more information out of her at this time. Perhaps she was realizing my interest wasn’t that of a casual observer.

“I wasn’t implying anything, Audrey,” I assured her. She didn’t seem surprised that I knew her name, even though the two of us had never met. I think she was too self-absorbed to even notice. “I was only concerned when you seemed as if you might pass out. I’ve seen diabetics do that before, so assumed it might also be the case with you.”

“Well, it isn’t. Like I said, it’s just due to a lack of sleep and food.”

Why couldn’t this young woman, who was admittedly glad Walter was dead, sleep or eat the last couple of days? Was it possible something was bothering her? Was something eating at her conscience? She sure seemed to get defensive in a hurry. What I’d been implying was simple; she seemed like she was not above doing whatever it took to get back at both Walter and Sidney. Getting rid of Walter was like killing two birds with one stone, so to speak.

“I’ve got to go,” Audrey said. She turned around and walked straight out of the church without glancing around at anybody in the room. She steered clear of the rest of the cheerleading squad. She was obviously in a rush to leave. Had I touched a raw nerve? Had I made her a little nervous and anxious? I wondered. Would I ever get a chance to speak with her again, maybe weasel some more pertinent information out of her? I had tried, but couldn’t find her in the phonebook. She might be commuting to college from another town or merely have an unlisted number.

I rejoined Stone and Wyatt, who were now discussing the best rub to put on barbeque ribs when you smoked them. They soon switched the topic to the kind of wood chips to use. Stone preferred hickory, but Wyatt liked to use apple wood. I waited patiently, quietly observing the body language of the mourners. No one seemed to be acting odd, nervous, or in any way suspicious. Everyone seemed appropriately mournful and upset at Walter’s death.

Eventually, Stone looked down at me, and asked, “How are you feeling? Are you about ready to go home?”

“Just about,” I said. “I haven’t seen Walter’s mother here, have you guys?”

Wyatt shook his head, and said, “I heard they wouldn’t release her from the hospital today to attend. She’s too unstable. She still needs constant monitoring. I heard she kept spitting out her medication, so they tried to give it to her through an IV instead. Then, when they weren’t in the room, she ripped the IV out of her arm. Now they’ve removed the IV and are giving her individual injections. She keeps accusing the nurses of trying to poison her.”

“Poor Melba. She’s really a mess right now, isn’t she?” I asked Wyatt.

“Yeah, but, I guess a couple of orderlies are going to accompany her to Walter’s funeral service tomorrow morning. I’m sure they’ll give her a shot of something to sedate her before they get her to the church. She probably won’t remember much about the service, but maybe she’ll at least remember she attended it,” Wyatt said. “Oh, that’s good. I’d hate for her to not be able to come to the service tomorrow too,” I said. “Maybe being at the funeral will help her understand what’s happened. I don’t think she has quite realized yet that her son is gone.”

My leg was really beginning to ache, so I was ready to go home when Stone put his arm around my shoulders and led me outside. I was also starving. The only thing that had crossed my lips in a long time was a Milky Way bar.

“Wait here. I’ll be around directly with the car,” he said. “You don’t need to be walking any more than necessary on that bad leg for a few days at least. Did the doctor tell you to put ice on it?”

“I don’t recall being told to put ice on it,” I said, noncommittally. “It’ll help just to get off of it and get a good night’s sleep. A little warmed-up eggplant casserole and a long soak in the tub sounds appealing too.”

“How are your bruised ribs feeling from the hit you took yesterday at the football game?” Stone asked.

“Bruised ribs are yesterday’s news,” I said. “I forgot all about my aching ribs once the SUV plowed into me.”

“Well, let’s see if you can’t make it all the way through the day tomorrow without an accident,” Stone said. “Is that too much to hope for?”

“I was kind of hoping to deduct Wheatfield Memorial from my income taxes as a second home,” I replied.

“You already have a second home, Lexie. The Alexandria Inn. And I hope you realize you always have the option of making this your first and only home. You can sell your home in Shawnee and move in with me full-time any time you want. You’re here with me most of the time these days anyway, so why not make it permanent? I’d feel more comfortable if you were where I could always take care of you and protect you. You could benefit from constant protection, my dear. Give it some thought, okay?”

“I will, Stone. Thank you. I will give it some serious consideration,” I said. And I meant it. I felt being here at the Alexandria Inn with Stone was where I belonged.

Chapter 17

“Great breakfast, Lexie,” Steve Dudley said. “I haven’t had pancakes this good in a long time. The blueberries really added a special flavor to them. Where do you find fresh fruit this time of year? And my eggs were perfect, too.”