Lemon Larceny (The Donut Mysteries) (17 page)

Chapter 15

“What’s that?”
Momma asked as she spied what was in my hand.

“It’s fishing
line,” I said solemnly.

My mother inhaled
deeply as she stared at it, and then she asked me, “Do you think it might be
the murder weapon?”

“It’s got my
vote,” I said as I tucked it into my pocket.

“Should you be
touching it?” she asked.
 
“What
about fingerprints?”

“It’s a little
late for that now,” I said.
 
“Besides, whoever used it must have wiped the reel clean.”

“How could you
possibly know that?” she asked.

“Smell it.
 
Someone wiped the surface with an
ammonia-based cleaner,” I said as I held it up for her to smell.

“You’re right.
 
But why didn’t they take it with them?”

I considered her
question before I gave her my answer.
 
“Maybe they were paranoid after killing Aunt Jean.
 
At least I hope they weren’t in their
right mind.
 
If the killer were
stopped for any reason leaving the house with evidence of the murder on them,
it would be very bad for them.
 
Besides,
who’s going to notice a little fishing line tucked away in the pantry if they
don’t know what it might mean?
 
Whatever the motivation, I’m glad they did it.
 
It adds one more piece to the puzzle,
and the more we fill in, the closer we’ll get to finding the killer.”

Still staring at
the line in my hands, Momma asked, “What should we do now?”

“We keep looking
for something to eat,” I said as I continued to look for something good to eat.

“You’re not going
to do anything about what we just found?” Momma asked me incredulously.

“What would you
like me to do?
 
We’ve called the
only cop we trust who has jurisdiction in this area, and we’ve secured the
evidence.
 
Short of bringing in the
FBI, I don’t know what else we can do right now.”

“There’s no need
to get snippy with me, young lady,” Momma said.

“I’m sorry.
 
Was I snippy?
 
I apologize.
 
I guess I’m just hungry, and you know
how I get when I need something to eat.”

“All too well,”
Momma said.
 
“Let’s see if we can at
least find something good for you.”

We ended up
having a cheese omelet when the pantry turned out mostly to be a bust.
 
At least there were eggs, cheese, bread,
and a little milk around.
 

I started to
clean up after we ate when Momma said, “I’ll take care of that, Suzanne.”

“But you
cooked.
 
The least I can do is wash
the dishes.”

“Nonsense.
 
Making an omelet hardly qualifies as
cooking.
 
Besides, you need to use
those sleuthing abilities to see if there are any more clues lurking somewhere
in this house that we might have missed before.”

“Okay, if you’re
sure,” I said.

“I’m positive.”

That being
settled, I started a more thorough and detailed search of the house and the basement,
hoping to find another clue that might help us name my aunt’s killer.
 
If there had been any doubt in my mind
before that it had been murder, that was all gone now.

That indentations
coupled with fishing line being where it had no business being, not to mention
my aunt’s theories about her own murder, told me that Momma and I were on the
right track.

We just needed to
keep at it until we found something concrete that we could use to catch the
killer.

Jake finally called
just as Momma and I were finishing up a late dinner.
 
It hadn’t been anything fancy, just a
jar of spaghetti sauce and some noodles we’d found in Aunt Jean’s panty, but
I’d discovered during my time helping Jake recover that if I squeezed in four
meals over the course of a day instead of the normal three that I could stay
awake longer, though the regime wasn’t doing my waistline any good.

“It’s Jake,” I
said.

“By all means,
answer it.
 
I’ll take care of
these.”

“Thanks,” I told
her as I started to walk out of the kitchen.

“Would you mind
doing it here so that I can hear?” she asked.

“Sure thing,” I
said, and then I answered the phone.
 
“Hey, Jake.
 
Thanks for
calling me back.”

“Sorry that it
took me so long, but I’ve got a problem here, and I’m not sure what to do about
it.”

“Can I help?” I
asked him.
 
It wasn’t that
outrageous a question.
 
After all,
with some help from my friends, I’d solved more than one murder over the years
myself.

“No, the solution
is clear enough,” he said.
 
“I’m
just not sure what the best way to handle it is.”

“Is it anything
that you can talk about?”

“No, not even in
generalities.
 
Right now all I have
is a gnawing suspicion without any real evidence to back it up, but I know in
my gut that I’m right, no matter how distasteful it might be.”

“I’m so sorry,” I
said.
 
“It sounds awful.”

“Enough about my
problems.
 
What’s going on with
you?
 
How are you holding up?
 
Your voicemail sounded urgent.”

“It’s more than
that, now.”
 
I caught him up to date
on what we’d found, as well as my suspicions about what it all meant.

“I hate to hear
that it was murder,” Jake said.

“So then, you
agree with us?”

“Us?
 
Is Grace working on this with you, too?
 
I didn’t know she was there,” he said.

“Actually, my
mother is helping me out on this case,” I admitted.

“Seriously?”

“I’m as serious
as I can be.”

After a few
moments, Jake asked, “How’s that working out?”

“Beyond my
wildest expectations,” I said.
 
“You
never said if you agreed with our conclusion or not, Jake.
 
We’re not overreacting, are we?”

“No, it sounds
like murder to me.
 
What I can’t
figure is how the police chief missed it.
 
Is he incompetent, sloppy, or just plain old lazy?”

“You missed
another possibility.”

“What’s that?”
Jake asked.

“What if he’s the
one who did it?” I asked.

“It’s certainly
something that you’re going to have to consider, based on what you read in your
aunt’s journal.
 
It sounds like you
need some outside help.”

“We probably do,
but you’re tied up with something of your own.
 
What’s Terry Hanlan doing?”
 
Officer Hanlan had been a tremendous
help to us both when Jake had been injured, and I now considered him a friend.

“Actually, he’s
over in Murphy dealing with a problem of his own.”

“Is there anybody
else that you can send?” I asked.

“Let me make a
few phone calls,” Jake said.
 
“How
long will you be up?”

“For a few more
hours, at least,” I said.

“How are you
managing that?
 
Are you still adding
an extra meal to your day?”

It was tough to
slip anything past a trained state police investigator, whether he was working
on a case or not.
 
I decided not to
answer that particular question, though.
 

“Don’t worry
about me.
 
I’ll be awake,” I said.

He got the
message.
 
“Then I’ll talk to you
soon,” he said.

“Well?
 
Where do things stand?
 
Is he on his way?” Momma asked me as she
continued to clear the table.

“No, he can’t
make it, and neither can Terry Hanlan.”

“That’s
disappointing,” Momma said.

“I agree, but Jake’s
going to find someone he can trust to come help us,” I said as I pitched in and
started to help her clean up.

“Suzanne, I must
say that I’m pleased that you aren’t afraid to ask for help.
 
You don’t usually look for outside
assistance.”

“In this case I’d
be crazy not to,” I said.
 
“Momma, I
never wanted to be the only one investigating
any
case.
 
The police
are much better suited for what they do.
 
As a matter of fact, I know better than anyone that they have resources
at their disposal that I could only dream about.
 
All I do is supplement what law
enforcement does every now and then, but I never want to carry the whole load
myself.”

“I see that I may
have misjudged you in the past.”

“How so?”

“I wasn’t aware
of how much reason there is behind what you do,” Momma said.

“Don’t be too
sure of that,” I said with a grin.
 
“Most of the time I’m just wandering around in the dark hoping to spot a
little bit of light somewhere.”

“And more times
than not that’s exactly what you do,” Momma said.

“Maybe, but we
still need someone to help us in an official capacity,” I said.
 
“Hopefully Jake will come up with somebody
soon.”

“What do we do in
the meantime?”

“Mostly we just
try to stay safe,” I said.
 
“Once
we’ve accomplished that, we can keep digging on our own, but carefully.”

She frowned.
 
“And how exactly are we supposed to do
that?”

“Stay safe?
 
We do the things that we’ve already
done, like changing the locks and always sticking together.
 
Mostly it’s being careful, not taking
too many unnecessary chances, and watching each other’s backs.”

“That sounds like
a solid course of action to me.
 
After we finish cleaning up, we’ve still got a few hours we can
investigate.
 
Do you have any
suggestions?”

I thought about
it for a moment before I spoke.
 
“I’m not sure.
 
We’ve already
spoken to every suspect we found in Aunt Jean’s journal multiple times, and
they aren’t opening up any more to us than we started.”

“I just had a
dreadful thought.
 
What if whoever
killed her wasn’t mentioned in her journal?” Momma asked.

“Then we’re out
of luck, but it doesn’t do us any good to think that way.
 
We have to act on the assumption that
we’ve already spoken to the killer today.”

Momma shivered a
little.
 
“That’s a bit chilling,
isn’t it?”

“It’s certainly not
a happy thought,” I agreed.
 
“If it
helps, it doesn’t get any easier over time.”

“Then why do you continue
to do it?” Momma asked me.

“It’s addicting,”
I said.
 
“Just you wait and
see.
 
You’ll find yourself yearning
for it after we’re finished here.”

“I can assure you
that won’t be the case.
 
I’m a
reluctant investigator.
 
The only
reason I’m doing this is so that we might help dispense some kind of justice
for the person who ended my sister’s life.”

“We’ll do our
best,” I said.

“So, if we won’t
be crimefighting any more tonight, what
will
we be doing?”

“I’ve got an
idea,” I said.
 
“I noticed something
in the attic that might be fun.”

“What’s that?”

“Come on and I’ll
show you.”

Momma followed me
up to the second floor, and then on up into the attic.
 
What had been a scary place just the
night before was now much more pleasant in the daylight, though that would be
fading soon enough.
 

“Well, you’ve got
me here.
 
What’s next?”

I reached into a
pile of things I’d noticed before and I pulled out an old 8mm projector.
 
“How about some home movies of you and
your sister growing up, or will that be too painful for you?”

“Actually, it’s
exactly what I need,” she said.
 
“Let’s take these downstairs where we can be more comfortable watching
them,” she said as she chose a few canisters of old film.

“I’ve got an even
better idea.
 
Why don’t we show them
up here?
 
It could be fun,” I said
as I put the projector down and reached for the folded screen I’d seen earlier.

“Why not?” Momma
asked.
 
“You set the projector up
and I’ll drag a few old chairs over.”

In five minutes,
we were ready.
 
“Lights, please,” I
said, and Momma extinguished the lone bulb in the attic.
 
It killed most of the light, but some of
it still crept in through the gable windows.
 
I flicked on the projector and we
suddenly saw two little girls appear on the screen.
 

“You and your
sister actually wore matching outfits once?” I asked, doing my best not to
laugh.
 
I only partially succeeded.

“Jean hated it
when Momma did that to us,” my mother said with a laugh.
 
“I thought it was neat to dress like my
big sister, but she didn’t find anything pleasant about the experience at all.”

“When was this
filmed, do you remember?” I asked.