Thirty-Four and a Half Predicaments: Rose Gardner Mystery #7 (41 page)

I started to pull up his number, but Joe covered my hand. “Rose, wait.”

I squinted at him in confusion.

He grabbed my arm and tugged me to the edge of the open area, away from the other three deputies, who were openly gawking at us as they went about their duties. “Don’t call him. It’s only gonna upset him and he’s preparing for…something big.”

Joe had to be talking about his and Mason’s meeting at six, but I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to know or not. “Joe, I have to call him. He’s going to be furious with me if I don’t. And justifiably so.”

“Then I’ll take full responsibility for it.
Please.
He needs to be on his game tonight. Knowing you were almost strangled to death will distract him.”

I could see his point.

I heaved out a sigh, and against my better judgment, stuffed my phone back into my pocket. “Okay, but this feels wrong.”

Joe looked relieved. “Thank you. Now how about I take your statement?”

My eyebrows rose in mock surprise. “Isn’t that the job of someone with a lower rank?”

He grinned. “I’ll slum it for you.”

He led me outside to his sheriff’s patrol car and I gave him a statement, holding nothing back except for my involvement with Skeeter and Jed. I saw no point in mentioning Jed at all now that Beverly wasn’t around to tell stories. When I told Joe that his father was involved and I had in my possession a journal that was likely filled with evidence implicating J.R., I expected some kind of reaction from him. I wasn’t prepared to get absolutely nothing.

Joe continued to write down his notes. “And where is this journal now?”

I pulled the book out of my inner coat pocket, but kept it in my hands. “Here. But I can’t make heads or tails of what’s inside it. It’s just numbers that look like dates and times, along with what looks like shorthand. Beverly was convinced it contains evidence against your father.”

Joe reached for the journal, but I held onto it. “I think I should give it to Mason myself.”

His gaze remained on the book in my hands. “I’ll give it to him. It needs to go through the proper channels.”

“I still—” I started to say, but without saying a word, he snatched it, stuffing the book inside his coat without even looking at it. “That’s mine!” I protested, leaning over and reaching for him.

“Rose,” he said, turning to me with guarded eyes. “It’s evidence and an important part of this crime scene. I have to take it into custody.”

“This isn’t right, Joe!” I shouted, my anger flaring. “You can’t just take my property! I have to give it to Mason.”

He shook his head in exasperation. “And who do you think
I’m
gonna give it to? This way it’s more official.”

I wasn’t so sure going the official route was the best way to handle this.

He was silent for several moments, his eyes staring out the windshield. “I’ll make sure he gets it, but I can’t give it back to you. I’m sorry.”

I told myself to calm down. Joe would give it to Mason, but I couldn’t ignore the niggle of doubt in the back of my head. The journal supposedly contained information that could get Joe’s father in trouble. Was it safe to trust him with it? In the end, I didn’t have a choice. Besides, it was Joe. Of course, I could trust him.

Joe closed his notebook. “I need to wrap up a few things up here before I head back to town.” He paused. “You’re free to go, but again, I’m asking you to not call Mason. And if he calls you before tonight, please don’t tell him about any of this. Especially not the journal.”

I stared at him for several seconds. “But you’ll tell him? And be sure to explain that you asked me not to say anything.”

He nodded and offered me a weak smile. “I’ll take care of it.”

The sun was low on the horizon when I pulled out of the parking lot. Mason would soon be home and I was going to tell him everything I knew about Dora, whether Joe had had a chance to tell him or not. I had only promised Joe that I’d wait until they had their big meeting. After that, everything was fair game.

As I drove home, I tried to wrap my head around the fact that half of my genetics might belong to Paul Buchanan, a man I knew nothing about. While Hattie clearly believed I was Paul’s biological daughter, I decided it didn’t matter. Who I was now had nothing to with the genes in my cells. Besides, when I
really
thought about it, I was pretty positive I wasn’t Paul’s daughter. My visions were telling proof. They came from Daddy’s mother, the oracle of Lafayette County. What were the chances I’d have the same gift without being related to her?

My phone rang when I was almost home and I saw a number I didn’t recognize on the screen. “Hello?” I answered, sounding guarded.

“Rose,” Kate said in a chipper tone that sounded forced, even to my ears. “I heard you had an eventful afternoon.”

I tensed with confusion. How had she heard? Kate didn’t seem the type to sit around listening to police scanners. “Just another day in Fenton County,” I said with more sarcasm than I’d intended, but she rubbed me the wrong way and I was done tolerating bad behavior.

“You need to watch your P’s and Q’s, Rose Gardner,” she said. “Consider this fair warning.”

What on earth did that mean? Then I gasped. She knew about the journal. When I started to answer her, I realized she’d hung up.

Now I
really
needed to talk to Mason. I had no idea what Kate’s visit to Henryetta was all about, but I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t part of her father’s nefarious plan.

When I opened the front door, Muffy greeted me with her usual gusto. I let her wander around outside, feeling more than slightly unsettled. I half considered calling Mason anyway, but all of this was bound to upset him. Joe was right—he needed to give the meeting his full concentration.

I had a strong urge to check in with Skeeter, so I called him instead after I brought Muffy back into the house. “How’s Jed?”

“He’ll pull through.”

“Is he still at the hospital?”

He chuckled. “He can’t go to the hospital. They’d have to report a gunshot wound. I have someone who looked at it.”

“But he has—”

“And before you go worryin’, he’s in great shape. He’ll be back to work in a day or two.”

“
Skeeter
.”

“His choice. Rose.” He was quiet for a moment. “He blames himself for what happened.”

“What on earth for? If he hadn’t been there, I’d probably be dead. Thanks for loaning him to me.”

“He wants to help you again if you’ll have him.”

“Hopefully, there will be no need.”

He laughed. “Keep him in your speed dial.”

“Very funny.”

“Since Jed’s out of commission for a few days, call me if you get into trouble.”

“
You’re
gonna come get me out of trouble?”

“I’ll send Merv to take care of it.” He paused. “Do you have any more information about the double homicide?”

“No. I haven’t heard any more about it. Have they said anything to you?”

“No, and that’s what worries me. Ordinarily, they’d come straight away to ask their questions.”

“Then that’s a good thing, right?”

“No, I think it’s bad. It means they’re probably building their case before they come callin’.”

Crap. That
did
sound bad. “Have you come up with any idea who might be settin’ you up?” I asked.

“No.” But the way he answered made me question his truthfulness.

“I have a journal that has information tying J.R. Simmons to Atchison Manufacturing, but I have no idea what it contains. It was all in shorthand and I couldn’t read it. If J.R. is behind this, hopefully it will help us bring him down and take care of the situation you and Mason are in.”

“Jed told me. I guess you gave it to your boyfriend?”

“No. Joe took it from the crime scene.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, but when he spoke next, his voice was tight. “J.R. Simmons’ son? You really think that was a good idea?”

“It wasn’t like I had much choice in the matter. He just confiscated it and called it evidence. But he promised to give it to Mason.”

Skeeter didn’t reply.

I thought about J.R.’s involvement with the factory and how he had been willing to pay Beverly a lot of money to hand the book over to him. What could be in that book that was so important? Back in December, both Joe and Mason had shrugged off my suggestion that J.R. might be behind the attempt on Mason’s life, saying it wasn’t his style.

J.R. Simmons liked to bring people down and make them suffer. The thought set off a chain reaction of other thoughts, all of which led to an inescapable conclusion.

Why hadn’t I realized that before?

I gasped. “Oh, mercy! It’s not a kill list, even if Mick Gentry and Scott Humphrey thought it was. Skeeter! It’s a list of people J.R. intends to make suffer.”

“That sounds like a whole lot of work when it would just be easier to kill me. Who would go to so much trouble?”

“J.R. Simmons would. Mason says he thrives on causing people misery.”

He released a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“It’s him. I’d bet money on it.”

“You might be on to something. What better way to get rid of me than settin’ me up for a double homicide? Then I’d be forced to sit in prison watchin’ that rat bastard Gentry run my territory.”

I sank down into a kitchen chair. “What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know yet. The question is who else is on the list?”

I had a pretty good idea. And now I was really scared for Mason.

I hung up and checked the time. It was six-thirty and I had no idea when Mason would be home. I was on edge, wondering how his meeting was going, wondering what would happen to him if it didn’t go well. To kill some time, I scoured the cabinets to look for something to make for dinner. I would feel bad about taking Maeve up on her offer to do some grocery shopping for us, but it might become necessary if Mason intended to uphold our ban of the Piggly Wiggly. In an attempt to occupy my frazzled mind, I started making a list, figuring I could go shopping when we came back from Mason’s uncle’s cabin, but quit after I listed peanut butter three times.

At seven-fifteen I started to get really nervous. I hadn’t heard anything and I wondered if that was a good sign or a bad one. I decided to try to watch some TV with Muffy. We had just settled onto the sofa when I heard a car pull up in front of the house. Less than half a minute later, the front door was flung open. Mason stood in the threshold, his face pale.

I jumped to my feet. “Mason? How’d it go?” But the look on his face pretty much said it all.

He shut the door behind him. “I got fired.”

I stumbled toward him as my stomach fell to my feet. “
What?
”

He shook his head, looking bewildered. “It was an ambush, Rose. The DA showed up and it turned into an inquisition of
me
instead of the other way around.”

“But what about Joe?”

His hands shook and his face turned red. “He didn’t do a goddamn thing. He just sat there and let them pummel me.”

I gasped. “I can’t believe it.”

“I can.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me up the stairs. “We have to go.”

I let him drag me, but I shook my head in confusion. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“We have to get out of Fenton County tonight. Hell, we need to get out of Arkansas.”

“Why?”

He stopped in the middle of our bedroom. “Rose. There’s absolutely nothing to keep Simmons from releasing his false evidence against you now. I’m not in the Fenton County court system to stop it.” He ran his hand through his hair and turned to face the windows. “I just can’t understand what got this rolling so quickly. I must have hit a nerve, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out how.”

“I can,” I whispered. “Oh, God. It was me.”

He turned around and his eyes widened. “You? How could it be you?”

I covered my mouth with my hand, feeling lightheaded. “Mason, I discovered what happened to Dora.”

His mouth parted and confusion flickered in his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

I clasped both hands together in front of me. “Neely Kate and I have been investigating the case over the last few days.”

He sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re kidding me.”

I wrung my hands. “No.”

He ran his hand over his head again, then looked up at me. “What did you find out?”

“It’s a long complicated story, but the bottom line is that Beverly Buchanan murdered Dora Middleton because my birth mother was trying to tell the world that something bad was goin’ on at Atchison Manufacturing. And Dora had a journal full of information to implicate J.R. Simmons.”

He shook his head as though trying to clear it. “Wait. I thought you already went through her journal. It didn’t sound like there was anything like that in there.”

I walked over to the bed and sat down next to him. “There was a
second
journal. I found it this morning taped to the frame of the baby bed in the nursery.”

He looked shell-shocked. “Why didn’t you
tell me?
”

“Mason.” I started to cry. “I swear to you, I didn’t know what it was. It was just figures and dates and words written in shorthand. I found it after you left, and I didn’t want to bother you with it when I saw you at the abandoned gas station. I figured I’d tell you everything tonight when there was more time. I’ve been trying to talk to you about it since yesterday.”

“
Dammit!
” He jumped to his feet and his gaze spun around the room. “Where is it now?” He sounded panicked.

I wrung my hands, overcome with a feeling of dread. “Joe took it.”

He went stock-still. “What?”

I stood and grabbed his arm. “He was one of the sheriff deputies who came to the Atchison factory after I called 911.”

He stared at me like a deer caught in headlights.

“Joe didn’t tell you
anything?
”

His jaw worked and his eyes darkened. “Joe didn’t say a goddamned thing to me.”

“He told me he’d tell you.” Now I was really scared and my voice shook. “I met Hattie—Dora’s best friend—at the factory with the coded journal. She was supposed to tell me who my real birth father was, but Beverly Buchanan and her old boyfriend Dirk Picklebie showed up. Beverly shot Hattie and Dirk and wanted the journal. She said J.R. Simmons was going to pay her money for it.”