Murder by Artifact (Five Star Mystery Series) (21 page)

“Of course she did,” said Nellie Pearl. “Who else could—or would, for that matter? Everybody knew Martha would do it someday. It was just a matter of time.”

Theo bit the inside of her mouth to keep herself quiet. A couple of curious bystanders were blatantly eavesdropping. As much as she couldn’t help being curious about the woman’s statement, she would strangle on her own tongue before she asked a single question. She edged to the left, hoping to get around her.

“You don’t know, do you?” Nellie Pearl moved directly into her path and began to cackle. Theo thought she sounded just like a grade-B movie witch. All she needed was a pointed black hat, green makeup and a broom. Then she would look as if she’d just stepped out of central casting. She shook her index finger right in Theo’s face. Theo was appalled by the filthy fingernail hovering inches from her eye. She was sure the dark stains were her own blood. The hand stank.

The moment she got to the shop after the incident on the path, Theo cleaned the bleeding wounds on her arm. Now she considered pouring bleach all over them. It would probably sting like crazy but who knew what was under those fingernails?

“Mark my words. It was only a matter of time. Ask anyone.” Nellie Pearl waved her arms, sending a wave of toxic body odor into Theo’s face. “Martha stood right in the middle of Main Street and swore someday she would kill Doreen.” Still cackling, she ambled along the sidewalk, headed toward the creek.

Theo breathed deeply, waiting for some cleaner air to dispel the faint nausea inspired by the old woman’s stench. It had been a long, smelly day, and she had Nellie Pearl to thank for most of it.

Popcorn. She needed popcorn. Thank goodness they had it at the concession stand. It didn’t matter that the concession stand was the trunk of a volunteer’s car.

She changed her mind about going into the shop and headed to the ball game. Work could wait.

Ruby’s Reds won. Theo guessed it was a combination of factors. Three of the Tiger’s best players were ill and Pug sat on the bench. It didn’t matter, Jamie’s team won and the kids were happy.

The celebration began with ice cream for the whole team. The family continued celebrating in the Abernathy kitchen. Theo pulled a fresh package of chocolate-chip cookies from her hiding spot inside the broom closet.

Cookie crumbs and milk flew from the boys as if they hadn’t had food or treats for weeks. Within seconds, Theo thought it looked like cookie-eating piranhas had been at the table. The boys bolted, excused, leaving their parents sitting among the wreckage.

Theo watched as Chris and Jamie settled down in front of the television to play video games. Although the distance from table to controller was only five feet, the boys moved into another world. Car racing replaced baseball.

“Can you think of any reason why your aunt would want to kill Doreen?” Speaking softly so only Tony could hear her, Theo posed the question raised by Nellie Pearl.

In the process of pouring himself a tall glass of milk, Tony’s eyebrows flew up and his arm jerked. He missed the glass and ended up chasing runaway milk with the dishtowel. “What?”

“That’s what Nellie Pearl suggested this afternoon.” Theo handed him a damp cloth. The expression on her husband’s face told her he was reassuringly shocked.

“Why would Nellie Pearl tell you something so bizarre?”

“I don’t know. The old bat and I haven’t got a great history. Still it seems out of character for her to make unfounded accusations.” Theo sighed and lifted her shoulders toward her ears before dropping them again. The movement released some of the tension she felt in her back. “She usually delights in telling painful truths in the most public way possible.”

“Still mad about the four-eyes jokes?” Tony dunked a cookie in his milk and then popped the whole thing into his mouth. Damp crumbs clung to the corners of his mouth.

“No madder than you were about the hair-loss jokes.” Not really hungry, Theo stole one of his cookies and nibbled on the edge.

Tony lifted his glass in a silent salute. “You are absolutely right, sweetheart. She is an old bat.”

“There was something else weird.” Theo wondered if he’d be amused by the idea of Nellie Pearl stealing yard ornaments. The powder room decorations were not up for conjecture. She told him about her day.

“She does seem weirder than ever.” Responding to her description of dirty fingernails cutting into her arm, Tony examined the crescent-shaped cuts on her arm before he kissed each mark. There was no trace of humor in his face.

Theo felt gratified by his obvious anger. “I don’t think she remembers doing it, or even that she was on the path this afternoon.”

Tony’s eyebrows pulled together as his frown deepened. “I should think Blossom’s donkey ornament would be too heavy for her to move without help.” He did smile then. “The idea of her asking for help is way beyond weird. Still, stranger things have happened, so I’ll see what I can find out.”

His cell phone rang interrupting them. Tony pressed the green button and mostly listened. “Yes, I guess so. Tell him to be at my office at eight-thirty.”

Theo knew who called before he said it.

“Dispatch.” Tony pressed DISCONNECT and reached for another cookie. “Don’t worry. I’m not going out.”

Theo waited, thinking he suddenly looked exhausted.

“Sonny wants to go to Chattanooga with Wade and me tomorrow. I don’t like it but couldn’t think of a good reason why he couldn’t go.” Tony popped the cookie into his mouth and chewed. “After all, Patti was his daughter. Maybe he can help clear things up somehow.”

Tony needed to get some work done before his Chattanooga trip and went in to his office early.

Judging from the stack of notes and files, it looked like his desk was covered with loose ends. Now he could add Nellie Pearl’s accusation against his aunt. He would start by learning the truth of the old woman’s statement. Although he didn’t believe his aunt did it, he had to follow every lead.

Sighing heavily, he turned his back on the messy desk. He could talk to his aunt and be back in only a few minutes. If nothing else, he would feel he’d accomplished one little thing in the day.

Martha lived only a couple of minutes from his office and was an early riser. He parked in the street in front of her house. Like everyone who knew her well, Tony bypassed the front door and went directly to the kitchen door of his aunt’s house. He could hear her belting out a song, singing a duet with Shania Twain. At fifty, Martha’s voice still sounded young and fresh. Tony loved to listen to her sing. For a fleeting moment, he considered that if Martha and his mom had gone on with their musical summer plans instead of starting the museum, he wouldn’t be standing at her back door wondering if there was a chance she was a murderess.

He wished he knew for sure who the killer wanted dead, Patti or Doreen.

Tony remembered another time he’d stood on Martha’s back porch, watching her through the old screen door and wondering if he’d have to arrest her. At that time she’d been a suspect in the murder of her husband, Frank.

Since that day, the rickety screen door had been replaced with a new, sturdy white storm door. It was only one of many changes in her home, and like most of the improvements on her house and lifestyle, the money had come from Frank’s estate. The old crook had squirreled away millions.

As Frank’s wife, Martha inherited the money. Even after she paid the overdue taxes on it, Martha was left with much more than a tidy nest egg.

The bulk of it became the foundation for their museum.

“Hey, Tony, come on in.” Martha answered the door when he knocked on the frame. “You’re out early.” She crossed the kitchen and turned down the radio hanging over a miniature desk. The maple cabinets were new, as were the hardwood floor and the granite countertops. A new table with white tiles set into the surface had replaced the old card table, and four ladder-back chairs were set around it.

Gus had done the remodeling and produced his usual perfect work.

“Does my brother work for you full time or is he allowed other jobs?” Tony ran his hand across the smooth wood on one of the doors and wondered if Theo would like new cabinets in their ancient, atmospheric kitchen.

“Oh, I let him take the occasional odd job, as long as it doesn’t interfere with my plans.” Without asking, she poured coffee into a beige stoneware cup with a robin’s-egg blue interior and handed it to him. “Sit.”

Tony obliged. The new chairs were surprisingly comfortable. He placed his notebook and pen on the white-tiled table and swallowed some of the coffee.

As she slipped onto her own chair, Martha’s eyes widened, staring at the notebook. “Is this an official visit, Tony?”

“In a way. I didn’t bring Wade.” He liked to have a second person with him when he did official questioning. “We’ll just call this a fact-finding mission. If at any time you decide you want a lawyer, we’ll stop.”

“That sounds ominous.” The smile left her face.

“I hope it’s easily explained.” He fidgeted, turning his cup around on the table and then finally looked up. “I don’t believe in rumors or gossip.”

“But?” Martha prompted him. “But what?”

Tony reached into his shirt pocket for a couple of antacids. He chewed them slowly, gathering his thoughts. “Sometimes the line between gossip and fact is a narrow one.”

“Spit it out, Tony. What do you want to know?”

“Did you ever threaten to kill Doreen?” Tony sat back, prepared for her denial. It didn’t come.

After a considerable pause, she answered, “Yes, I did.” His aunt folded her hands on the table and stared directly into his eyes. “It was a long time ago, and I wouldn’t exactly call it my proudest moment. How’d you hear about it?”

With a slight shake of his head, Tony ignored her question. “What happened?”

Martha stared at him for a full minute before looking into her cup. A faint touch of red climbed the sides of her neck and made her cheeks rosy. He had never in his whole life seen his aunt blush.

Fascinating. Utterly fascinating. Tony felt himself becoming sucked in to this story the same way Chris did when playing video games. If the house caught on fire, Tony doubted Chris would notice. Mesmerized, Tony waited for his aunt to speak.

“I try to treat all of my students the same,” said Martha. “Occasionally there is one I just can’t like no matter how hard I try to or one I like more than the others.”

Tony’s eyebrows lifted. There were enough cases in the television news of teachers behaving inappropriately with students to give him chills. He stared at his aunt.

“No! Not like that, you nitwit.” Martha jumped to her feet and retrieved the coffeepot. “I would never, could never. Don’t you believe me?”

“Yes.” Tony did believe her. “So what did happen?”

“This student worked two jobs to help out at home. One of the jobs was working for Queen Doreen at the Gift Shoppe.” Martha frowned and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You know the way the place is packed with merchandise?”

Tony nodded. Floor space was nonexistent. Gewgaws and gimcracks filled the shelves, hung from rafters and were stacked on the floor. He’d seen jars of jam, gift baskets filled with everything from soap to biscuit mix and many items he couldn’t identify.

“Well, I was in there and the girl turned and barely bumped into a stack of stuff. A porcelain swan fell to the floor and broke. Doreen went ballistic.” Martha frowned. “I tried to pay for it hoping to end the tantrum. Doreen wouldn’t take my money. Nothing would satisfy her. She wanted the girl out of there immediately. Even though she eventually rehired the girl, our feud has only gotten worse.”

“Worse, how?” Although it was still early, a breeze carried the scent of warm grass and honeysuckle into the kitchen mingling with the rich coffee aroma. He relaxed, sensing Martha’s story had nothing to do with current events.

“I went out of my way to antagonize the Queen and she did the same, always threatening to have the girl arrested for shoplifting or stealing from the till.

“It came to a head in the middle of the street one morning.” Martha squeezed her hands together. That seemed to make them shake harder. “I pulled Frank’s gun out of my purse and pointed it at her and told her that she would cease tormenting the girl or I’d see that she did.”

“That was it?”

“Not exactly.” Martha turned her face away. “Harvey Winston locked me up in the jail. At least he never charged me with anything. I apologized for waving the gun, and Doreen finally agreed to let it rest.”

Tony couldn’t believe this. Nothing mildly interesting happened when he was growing up here. The minute he left, all hell must have broken loose. In recent days he’d learned about four murders, a feud and even that his aunt had threatened Doreen—with a gun. “Why all of a sudden are events of twenty years ago coming to light?”

“What do you mean?” Clearly confused, his aunt stared at him.

He thought her confusion was understandable. The suddenly un-cold case involving Vicky Parker was not available for public scrutiny and dissection. “Nothing. I’m just talking to myself.”

He left her still sitting at the table and headed for the trailer park where Roscoe Morris lived with Dora-the-vending machine. As early as it was, the air-conditioning in the Blazer was barely keeping up.

Tony approached the highway turnoff to the Oak Lawn Trailer Courts. At one time there had been a decorative sign pointing the way. Now, however, there was just a slab of weather-beaten plywood with crudely painted letters that read “Oak Trail Cour”.

With a name sounding to his ears like a cross between a cemetery and a motel, the trailer park sat on the edge of town. Thirty years previously, it opened as retirement living. It boasted manicured lawns, a community center with an indoor meeting room and a weight room, plus outdoor amenities including a swimming pool, horseshoe pits and covered picnic area, it was beautiful.