Lemon Larceny (The Donut Mysteries) (27 page)

“Hang on one
second,” the chief said.
 
“Jean
couldn’t possibly have known who was going to kill her.”

“No, but she
listed the potential suspects in her journal,” I said.

“And that doesn’t
even address the near-misses she had before she realized that someone was out
to get her,” my mother added.

“What
near-misses?” the chief asked.

“First off,
someone shot out one of her windows,” I said.

“It turns out
that was just one of the Carter boys,” the chief said.

“What?” Momma
asked.
 
“We didn’t know about
them.
 
What was their problem with
my sister?”

“As far as I can
tell, they didn’t have one.
 
They
did, however, like taking target practice from their back deck.
 
I caught them this morning doing it
again, and the trajectory of fire from where they were shooting from makes it highly
likely that they were the ones who shot out Jean’s window.
 
When I pressed them about it, they
admitted that they’d done it, but were afraid to tell anyone about it.
 
Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“Are you kidding?
 
I’m glad that you did.
 
I was concerned about who might have
made that particular attempt.”

“Okay, what else
do you have?”

“Well, her brakes
failed as she was coming down her driveway, and she easily could have died.”

“Jean drove an
old car,” the chief said.
 
“I’m not
willing to concede that was anything but poor regular maintenance.
 
Anything else?”

“How about the truck
that nearly ran her down?” Momma offered.
 
“Do you have an explanation for that as well?”

“Jean never did
pay enough attention to her surroundings, especially when she was
distracted.
 
Let me guess.
 
She was with Sylvia when it happened,
wasn’t she?”

“Yes, she was,” I
admitted.

“That explains
that, then.
 
The two women were
probably so engrossed in their conversation that they weren’t paying attention
to what they were doing and stepped in front of the truck without realizing
what they were doing.”

“We spoke to
Sylvia,” I said, “and she seemed to think it was deliberate.
 
As a matter of fact, she left town as
soon as she heard what had happened to my aunt.”

The police chief
shook his head.
 
“Sylvia has been
known to hide in her house for days when she gets a wrong number.
 
She’s a classic worrier, paranoid beyond
belief.
 
I’m sorry, but it appears that
Jean’s imagination was working overtime when she told you about those close
calls, nothing more.”

“Did we imagine
that she tumbled down the stairs as well, or that we found the signs that the steps
had been booby-trapped with fishing line?” Momma asked.

“No, of course
not.
 
I’m just saying that I’m not
sure that any of those other incidents were pertinent.
 
Now, what motive do you have for Greta?
 
I can’t imagine she’s going to inherit
anything.”

“When we went to speak
with her at her place,” I said, “Momma spotted a valuable vase that she’d given
my aunt herself.
 
When we asked
Greta about it, she told us that my aunt had made it a gift to her.
 
That is impossible for us to believe.”

“But could it be
true?”

“I’ll wager that if
you search her home, you’ll find other ‘gifts’ there as well, perhaps from some
of her housekeeping clients who are still alive.
 
Is that enough to get a search warrant?”
I asked him.

The chief
frowned.
 
“I’m not sure, but I’ve
got an idea.
 
Why don’t I send one
of my men over to her place to talk to her?
 
While he’s there, he can make a few
comments to see if he can get a rise out of her.
 
I have a hunch that Greta won’t be able
to hold out long if she’s guilty.
 
She has always had a tendency to crack under pressure.
 
Give me a second.
 
I’ll be right back.”

Chief Kessler stepped
out onto the porch to contact his office, and Momma stood.
 
“I’m going to make us all some coffee.”

“That’s a great
idea,” I said.
 
“I’ll join you.”

I sat and watched
as Momma made a fresh pot.
 
“You
know, he’s turning out to be a good ally to have on our side, isn’t he?” I
asked.

“He seems quite
competent,” Momma conceded.

“I’ve got to
admit that I feel better not carrying the entire weight of the investigation on
our shoulders, don’t you?” I asked her.

“Of course, but
it’s difficult trusting anyone else, isn’t it?”

“Especially when
they were so recently on our list of suspects,” I replied.

The chief chose
that moment to come back in, so I decided to drop that line of conversation,
and fast.
 
“Is it all set?”

“I have a man
heading over there right now,” Chief Kessler said, and then he took a deep
breath.
 
“Is that fresh coffee I
smell?”

“It is,” Momma
replied.

“Excellent,” he
answered as he sat at the dining nook table beside me.
 
“Who else is still on your list?”

“Adam Jefferson,”
I said.

The chief looked
surprised by that.
 
“What motive
could Adam have had?”

“Apparently he
wanted some land my sister owned, and he was quite aggressive in trying to
purchase it from her,” Momma said.

The chief shook
his head.
 
“Why is every motive you’ve
mentioned wrapped around someone coveting something that your sister had?”

“It’s sad, isn’t
it?” Momma asked.

“More than I can
say.
 
Well, at least I can take
Adam’s name off your list.”

“Why is that?” I
asked.
 
“He told us that he was running,
showering, and eating breakfast alone, among other things, when she was
murdered.”

He shrugged.
 
“Take it for what it’s worth, but I found
ways to substantiate every part of his alibi through witnesses.
 
You can take my word for it; he didn’t
do it.”

“I’m curious,
Chief.
 
What made you check up on
him so thoroughly?”

“I’ll admit that
after our earlier conversation, you aroused my suspicions.
 
I’d heard rumors about him pestering her
about selling some land to her, so I thought I’d check around and see if there
was any truth to the rumor.
 
He’s
clean.”

“So, that just
leaves Anna or Greta,” I said.

“And then there
were two,” Momma intoned, and I suddenly got chills down my back.

The chief’s radio
went off, and he said, “Excuse me.”

He stepped aside,
but we could still hear both sides of the conversation.
 
His expression was grim as his officer
said, “I’m afraid that we’ve got ourselves a situation at Greta Mills’ place,
Chief.”

“Is she resisting
your questions?” he asked.

“No, it’s not
that.
 
I’m afraid that she’s dead.”

Chapter 23

“What do you
mean, she’s dead?” he asked incredulously.

“She wouldn’t
answer the door when I knocked, so I tried the doorknob, and it wasn’t
locked.
 
I pushed it open and stuck
my head inside to see if I could see what was going on.
 
She hanged herself, Chief.”

“Was there a
note?” I asked him.

“Any sign of a
note?” the chief asked.

“Yeah, she pinned
it to her blouse.
 
It says, ‘JEAN
CAUGHT ME STEALING.
 
I HAD TO KILL
HER.
 
I’M SO SORRY.’”

“Is he positive
that’s word for word?” I asked the chief.

“Hickman, is that
the exact wording?”

“To the letter,”
he said.

“Don’t touch
anything until I show up.
 
Call
Molly on the desk and have her send out an ambulance.
 
Hang on tight.
 
I’ll be right there.”

“I’m sorry, but
I’ve got to go,” the chief said to us.

“But there’s
something else you should know that could be pertinent,” I said, trying to stop
him.

“Whatever it is,
it’s going to have to wait,” he said as he brushed past me and sprinted to his
car.

“What were you
trying to tell him, Suzanne?” Momma asked me after he was gone.

“I know for a
fact that Greta didn’t write that suicide note,” I said grimly.
 
“I’ve got a hunch that she didn’t kill
herself, either, and that means that Anna must have.”

Chapter 25

“How could you
possibly know that?” Momma asked me.

“Think about
it.
 
Every time Greta referred to
Aunt Jean, she called her Miss Jean.
 
Do you think she would have done it any differently in her suicide
note?
 
I’m guessing that she knew
too much, so Anna got rid of her, and in her rush to fake it, she made a mistake.”

“Call the chief
right now and tell him everything that you just told me,” Momma said.

I hadn’t noticed
that the front door had been slightly ajar until Anna walked in the next moment,
now holding a gun on us.
 

“I wouldn’t do
that if I were you.”
 
She spotted
the phone in my hand.
 
“Drop that
right now.”

I did as I was
told.
 
One look into Anna’s gaze
told me that she was crazier than a bag full of rabid bats.
 
“How long have you been out there
eavesdropping on us?”

“Since the chief
came out to dispatch someone to Greta’s,” she said with the hint of a grin on
her lips.
 
“They’re probably cutting
her down right now.”

“Why did you kill
her?” Momma asked her, and I suddenly knew the answer.

“It was because
she knew that her co-conspirator was going to crack,” I said.
 
“You did it together, didn’t you?”

Anna nodded.
 
“Very good, Suzanne.
 
I needed Greta to get me inside, and
then I had to get rid of that fishing line after I pushed Jean down the
stairs.
 
You didn’t believe for one
second that it was an accident, did you?”

“We didn’t
realize that you were the one who pushed her until just a minute ago,” I said
as my blood began to boil.
 
Anna
hadn’t left anything to chance.
 
“You
aren’t nearly as clever as you think you are.
 
My aunt knew that you two would do it
together.”

“How is that
possible?
 
No one suspected a thing
until you two showed up and started nosing around.”

“She left us a
clue before she died,” I said, and then I turned to Momma.
 
“That sentence had the word ‘and’ in it,
not ‘or.’
 
Aunt Jean
knew
that the two of them were working
in tandem.”

“Where’s this
clue you’re talking about?” Anna asked as she shoved the gun closer toward me.

Momma was about
to tell her when I confessed, “We found it in a note inside a doll’s necklace.”

“Where is it now?”
she asked furiously.
 
“Don’t play
games with me.
 
I can make your end
easy or very, very hard.
 
I’d tell
you to ask Greta, but she’s not going to be able to answer you.”

“It’s in the
attic,” I blurted out.
 
It wasn’t,
but that was the only place in the house where I knew that a weapon
existed.
 
I’d even played with it
earlier.
 

My ancestor’s old
sword might be the only thing that could save us now.

“Then let’s go straight
up there,” Anna said as she gestured toward the stairs.

“After you,” I
said.

“Do you think
that you’re being funny, Suzanne?
 
Go, and don’t forget, I might miss you, but I’m pretty sure that I’ll
hit your mother if I do.”

“We need to do as
she says, Momma,” I said.

“Yes, of course,”
my mother said.
 
Her voice was dull
and wooden, as though she’d stepped out of herself in a moment of panic.
 
I had to keep my wits about me for both
of our sakes.

As I began to
climb the steps, I said, “It must have really surprised you when you found out
that Greta had told us that she saw you walking into your house the day of the
murder.”

“The fool was
obviously laying the groundwork to rat me out,” Anna said.
 
“I went over there to calm her down an
hour ago, but she was hysterical.
 
She claimed that you knew everything, and that the only way out for both
of us was to confess.
 
I knew from
the very start that it was risky getting her to help me, but I never thought
she’d turn me over to the police.
 
What choice did I have?
 
I
had to get rid of her before she ruined everything for me.”
 
Anna smiled for a moment, and then she
continued, “In a way, I should thank you.
 
If you hadn’t told me what she’d said, I might have waited until it was
too late.”