Picture Perfect Murder (Ryli Sinclair 1) (12 page)

BOOK: Picture Perfect Murder (Ryli Sinclair 1)
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*
* *
 

I dropped Aunt Shirley off first then I drove Paige home. I
was getting ready to pull out of her driveway when she tapped on my window.
“Hey, why don’t you and Garrett come over around eight-thirty for dessert and
drinks?”

I must have looked confused because Paige laughed and said,
“C’mon, this is the perfect opportunity to call him!”

“Don’t you want to be alone with Matt tonight? I thought
this was a celebration dinner?”

“We have the whole night to celebrate,” Paige giggled. “I’m
making my chocolate lava cake.”

“Sold!”

Laughing, Paige whirled around and called over her shoulder,
“If this cake doesn’t do the trick…nothing will!” She winked at me then opened
her front door and went inside.

I couldn’t help but laugh at her antics. Now the ball was in
my court, and I had to make the next move.

Switching gears, I hoped Mom would have something new to
share. I was more than a little anxious to know how Garrett had gotten along
with the Ministerial Alliance.

My mom is a creature of habit, so I knew I’d find her in the
library curled up on her chaise reading a mystery in front of her gas
fireplace. Which is exactly where I found her.

As a little girl I loved sitting in this room with my mom.
I’d be reading
The Baby-Sitters Club
while she’d read her mysteries. As
I got older, I’d read what she was reading just to be closer to her. I always
figured my love of solving mysteries came from my mom.

The library was one of the largest rooms in the house. It’s
one of the first renovations I remember her doing. It had originally just been
two small rooms next to each other. Mom said back in the day, one room was
probably a parlor and the other may have been a bedroom. She decided to knock
the wall down and make it a huge library. All four walls were filled with
recessed bookshelves holding hundreds of books. Along with the gas fireplace,
she’d also added a large dome-shaped skylight for just the right ambiance.

Not wanting to startle her, I watched her silently from the
doorframe. She looked peaceful, lounging in her pale pink maxi dress, her long
blonde hair braided halfway down her back, and her bare feet tucked in next to
her. She had a cup of hot tea on the round end table next to the chaise.

There were many times over the years when I was almost
jealous of how effortlessly my mom seemed to live her life. She seemed so
content. I once asked her why she never remarried, and she told me that she
didn’t believe she would ever find someone to love as much as she loved my dad.
I used to find that romantic as a young girl…now I find it a little sad. I want
my mom to move on…to live outside her mystery novels and memories of my dad.

I knocked softly on the frame, “Hey, Mom.”

My mom jerked her head up and narrowed her eyes at me. “About
time you were getting here, young lady. I had to hear about it from Myrtle down
at the grocery store that you found Iris’s body!”

Oh, shit!

I had completely forgotten to call her. What with the tongue
in the pumpkin and Garrett staying the night, I had a lot on my mind.

Going for what I hoped was a sheepish look, I said, “Sorry.
It was really crazy after finding the body.” I knew I had to tell her about the
tongue, but I was hesitant. I didn’t want my mom to worry.

“There’s a little more to tell you,” I said…and proceeded to
tell her about the tongue and concluded with what happened this morning at the
Williams’ house. I conveniently left out the part about Garrett staying the
night.

For the longest time she didn’t say anything. Finally she
stood up from her reclining position and opened her arms to me. I practically
ran to her. No matter how old you get, there’s nothing like the comfort of your
mother’s arms when you need them.

Crossing my fingers in hopes she’d say yes, I said, “I’m
stuck. I was hoping you’d tell me a little about Dr. Garver and your thoughts
on who might have killed her.” I held my breath, hoping she wouldn’t discourage
me.

Sighing, Mom pulled me down next to her on the chaise and
said, “Let me guess, you’re trying to solve this. I blame myself. After all,
there’s nothing I love more than a good murder mystery.”

I gave her my sweetest smile and batted my eyes, making her
laugh. “Okay, let’s hear what you have.”

I spent the next fifteen minutes telling her everything I
knew and could remember, including gossip and conversations with people around
town. I told her Garrett had met with the Ministerial Alliance, and how I
suspected it was to pick their brain and to see about alibies.

This took Mom by surprise. “He thinks it might be a
preacher?”

“I don’t know. I think he’s not leaving anything to chance.”

Mom was silent for a few minutes. “I guess in some ways that
makes sense.”

“I’m not sure how the killer is doing it. I think it might
be a drug or something. I overheard Garrett mention getting toxicology reports
from the lab. Maybe the killer is drugging the women and that’s how he’s
overpowering them?”

“Could be,” Mom mused.

Deciding to steer Mom away so she didn’t get too upset over
my involvement, I asked her about her duties for the memorial service and the
carnival.

“I have a dessert and side dish to make for the memorial
service Thursday. Thankfully I got out of setting up on Friday. I just have to
bring in decorated cupcakes Friday afternoon.”

Rolling my eyes I told her I was setting up booths on
Friday. “It’ll do you good. It’s time for the younger generation to step up and
help us old timers out!”

I grunted, figuring that was all the reply I needed.

“Well, on a totally different note, you haven’t asked me
about the surprise this morning,” Mom said.

“Oh, my God! I’m a horrible sister and best friend! I keep
having to be reminded,” I all but whined.

Mom laughed. “Don’t feel badly, you have a lot on your
plate.”

I stayed and chatted with Mom about the wedding for a little
while longer, then decided it was time to bite the bullet and call Garrett.

Chapter 8
 

I hadn’t spent any quality time with Miss Molly in forever,
so I decided to go home. Pulling into the driveway, I couldn’t help but feel
apprehensive. After all, the last time I did this, I had a dead woman’s tongue
greet me at my front door.

Luckily for me, the only thing greeting me at the door this
time was the mail and Miss Molly. She followed me into the kitchen and watched
intently as I refilled her water bowl. As though somehow I might mess that task
up.

I tried calling Garrett twice, and both times it went
straight to voicemail. I was pretty sure he was avoiding my calls. I was just
about to call again when my ringer went off.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Garrett but Aunt Shirley.

“What’s up?” I asked.

Silence…then a subtle wheezing.

“Put that damn thing down and talk to me!” I yelled.

“Don’t get your knickers in a wad,” Aunt Shirley said. I
heard a drawer shut. “So, I’ve been thinking. I think we should get a hold of
Janice and see what she knows about these murders. She was Iris’s best friend.
If anyone knows something, it’d be her.”

I had to admit it was a pretty good idea.

“Do you think she’ll talk with us?” I asked.

“I already called her. Said we can come by tonight around
seven.”

Shirley and I could question Janice, and I’d still have
plenty of time to drive out to the ranch for dessert. “I’ll pick you up at six
forty-five.”

I hadn’t slept very well the night before, so I decided a
nap was in order. I had just started drifting when my cell phone rang.
Groaning, I glanced over to see who was calling and quickly answered.

“Hey, I see you’ve been trying to call. What’s going on?”
Garrett said by way of greeting.

I tried to think of a way to ask what he learned at the
Ministerial Alliance meeting without being obvious, but nothing was coming to
mind.

Damn!

I guess I had to get to the point. “Have you spoken with
Matt today?” I asked.

“Nope. Been swamped here working on the murders.” I could
hear the frustration in his voice.

Deciding it was like ripping off a Band-Aid, I blurted,
“Well, Matt asked Paige to marry him last night, and they want to know if we
want to come over around eight-thirty tonight for a celebratory dessert and
drink kind of thing.”

Silence.

I knew I was holding my breath but I couldn’t help it. No
matter how old you get, asking a guy out never gets easier.

“Ummm…I have to say, I’m a little shocked,” Garrett
chuckled. “Of all the things I was expecting you to say, this wasn’t one of
them.”

I hoped that was a good thing.

“What time?”

I expelled by breath and couldn’t stop the grin from spreading
over my face. “About eight-thirty. Do you think you will be done by then?”

I could hear rustling in the background, like he was
shuffling papers on his desk. I couldn’t help myself…I wondered what he was
working on. What leads did he have still to cover?

“I think I will be. I know you’re dying to ask, so I’ll tell
you I’m still checking alibis right now from my meeting today. Most of the
information I’m waiting on won’t come in for a few days, so I should be wrapped
up by eight-thirty.”

Be still my heart! He was checking into the whereabouts of
local preachers!

“Ryli,” I heard the warning before he even said it. “I can
hear your wheels turning in your head. That information is between us, you got
that?”

I rolled my eyes. Like I needed him to tell me that. “Got
it.”

“How about I pick you up around eight. Maybe we can have a
celebratory drink at your place before we head over.” I heard the implication
in his voice and my heart raced. Finally we’d have some alone time.

Crap!

I suddenly remembered my date with Aunt Shirley and Janice.
I didn’t want to risk Garrett showing up early at my place and me not being
there. And I sure the hell didn’t want to tell him what I was really doing.

“How about I pick
you
up at eight o’clock, and we
have a drink at
your
house?” I said.

“Why?” I could sense his suspicion from that one little
word.

“No reason. It’s the twenty-first century for Pete’s sake,”
I said, hating how defensive I sounded. “A girl can pick up a guy at his house
and have drinks.”

“Uh huh,” he said, not believing a word I said. “Okay, I’ll
let you play this out. I’ll see you at my house at eight.”

I hung up my cell phone and decided to forgo the nap. I
figured if I was going to get Garrett’s attention, it was time to step up my
game. I went to my closet and looked through my clothes. It was time to pull
out the big guns.

 
*
* *
 

I twirled in front
of the mirror, admiring the finished product. I have to say, I felt pretty darn
good. I’d decided to go
with my burgundy, long-sleeved sweater dress. It
had a slim, silver chain belt that gave my waist definition. The dress stopped
above my knees, so I opted for my knee-high brown suede boots with no heel. I
put a few curls in my hair to give it some volume, and even took time for eye
shadow and mascara.

By the time I finished getting ready, I was about five
minutes late picking up Aunt Shirley. I could tell by the way she was tapping
her foot outside the Manor that she wasn’t happy.

“You’re late!” she said as she folded herself into the front
seat of the Falcon. She turned to look at me and whistled under her breath.
“Why you lookin’ so good? It’s just Janice.”

I smiled at her compliment. Glad to know someone else
thought I was looking good. “I’m meeting up with Garrett after this to go out
to Paige’s.”

Aunt Shirley looked me up and down again, and then buckled
her seatbelt. “It’ll do.”

We rode the rest of the way in silence. I guess we were both
thinking about what we planned on asking Janice. I wasn’t sure if Janice could
even shed light on the murders, but it was worth a shot.

Janice lived on Tipton Street. It was located on the
outskirts of town, going south, but still in city limits. It was one of the
seedier parts to live in Granville. The dilapidated houses were spaced about
fifty feet apart, with junk and broken toys littering the front yards. The
majority of the houses were all leaning precariously, with large spots of
randomly chipped off paint. There were a few that were even missing windows.
This was not a street I went down unless I had to. And it’s definitely not a
street I went down at night.

Dusk was settling over the shabby neighborhood as I
continued driving. Spotting her place, I pulled into the tiny dirt driveway
next to her house. “I hope she has something good to tell us,” I said as we got
out of the Falcon and headed toward the house.

It was a tiny, two-story house with a clapboard porch that
had random holes everywhere. Like so many of the others, her house was peeling,
the paint chips scattered over the unkempt yard. I could see what looked to be
car parts and beer cans strewn around the left side of the house near the
carport. Guess her husband, Tom, couldn’t be bothered to throw away the cans.

Classy.

I reached over to help Aunt Shirley up the ramshackled
wooden steps, but she waved me off. Reaching the door first, I knocked on a
door that looked like it couldn’t keep the wind out, much less an intruder.

I could hear a TV blaring inside the house, so I knew
someone was home. I waited a few more minutes then knocked again. “Dammit,
Janice, answer the fucking door!” I heard a male voice shout.

A few seconds later Aunt Shirley and I were greeted with a
bright light snapping on over our heads and the door swung open.

“Hi, guys, come on in,” Janice said leading us into the
house.

The front door opened up into a time warp…also known as the
living room. Tom was sitting on a sofa that was straight out of the 70s. It had
a dark wooden frame with huge orange and brown flowers covering it. And if I
wasn’t mistaken, there was a cottage or something hidden sporadically in the
pattern. A dark, heavy oak coffee table with two orange hinged doors sat
flanked by two velvet chairs done in a burnt orange. I
barely
resisted
running my hand over the velvet. I’d never seen anything so amazing, yet
hideous. The burnt orange glass ceiling light fixture was the piece de
resistance.

“Hey, Tom,” I greeted.

Tom didn’t look up from the television, but he did grunt as
he lifted the beer to his lips.

“Let’s just go in the kitchen,” Janice said quickly.

We followed her through a doorway to our right that led into
another time warp. I shook my head. Was this for real? Who doesn’t update their
house…ever!

The kitchen was extremely dark and dingy. It was done in the
same burnt orange and brown colors, but with an addition of gold and avocado
green. The cabinets were a dark wood with even darker handles. The linoleum
flooring with the different sized rectangles of orange, gold, and cream just
about gave me vertigo. The wallpaper was a mixture of huge burnt yellow and
orange flowers with green leaves, and the dishwasher and other appliances
sitting out were all avocado green.

Janice motioned for us to take a seat at the avocado green
Formica table. Aunt Shirley and I pulled out the matching avocado green metal
chairs and sat down. Janice walked over with a large ceramic cookie jar with a
mushroom motif on the front. She plunked it down on the table and opened the
lid.

I expected the cookies to be left over from 1970. She
reached in and handed us each a chocolate chip cookie.

“Would you both like some lemonade?” Janice asked.

Lemonade and chocolate chip cookies? “No thanks, we just
stopped by Dairy Queen,” I lied.

“We were wondering if you could maybe shed some light on
Iris’s death for us,” my aunt said getting right to the point.

Janice didn’t say anything at first. She just sat chewing
her cookie, her eyes filling with tears. I honestly didn’t think Janice had
anything to do with the murders, and after seeing how distraught she was at the
mention of Iris, I was doubly convinced of her innocence.

“I have no idea who would do this to Iris,” Janice said when
she finished her cookie. “I mean, yes, she liked to gossip and all, but she
didn’t deserve to die like she did just because of a little gossip. I mean,
someone cut out her tongue!”

Janice started sobbing loudly, tears flowing down her
cheeks. Aunt Shirley rummaged through her purse and handed Janice some tissue.
Janice dabbed at her cheeks while she continued sobbing. While I felt sorry for
her, I really didn’t have time for theatrics. I needed answers, and then I
needed to get back in time for my date with Garrett.

“Do you know what it is Iris had on Dr. Garver?” I asked,
hoping to distract her so she’d stop crying.

Janice dabbed one more time at her cheeks before answering.
“I don’t know everything. Iris was real good about keeping the really juicy
parts to herself—for leverage, ya know?”

I nodded my head, hoping to encourage her to continue.

“Sometimes she’d give specifics. Like last week Patty Carter
came in yelling about how she’d just heard Dr. Garver was cutting funding next
year to the basketball teams to give more money to the football team so they
could get a Gator. Now, whether or not it’s true, Patty Carter believed it. And
according to Iris, she was steaming mad. Patty’s nephew, Michael, is on the
basketball team, and she said it would be over her dead body before his sport
was cut funding.”

Patty Carter. Hadn’t she been in Iris’s salon the day after
Dr. Garver’s murder? But why kill Iris? Was she afraid Iris may tell people
what she’d said? Obviously others knew, so killing her would be unnecessary.

Still, it was something to go on.

“Then there was the time Dr. Garver refused to let the
Booster Club do their annual fundraiser. Kim Baker was the president, and I
actually witnessed that meltdown in the salon.” Janice blew her nose on a
wadded up tissue. “She was so mad, she was actually shaking.” She laughed and
hiccupped at the same time.

Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought.
Something told me we could be here all night listening to the number of
grievances Iris knew about when it came to Dr. Garver.

 
BOOK: Picture Perfect Murder (Ryli Sinclair 1)
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