Trick or Deadly Treat (16 page)

Phyllis knew it was a shot in the dark, but she asked quickly, “Did you see anyone you know over at Dr. Baxter's office the day she was murdered?”

Dr. Hampton was on her feet now. With a distracted, impatient expression on her face, she said, “Oh, good grief. Only Jack. I did see him, but there's nothing unusual about that. Now, I really have to ask you—”

“Jack Carlyle?” Sam said.

“That's right.”

“Susan Baxter's brother-in-law?”

“Well, there's nothing wrong with that, is there? They got along all right.” Dr. Hampton rolled her eyes. “Better than Susan and her husband, if you ask me.” She crossed her arms over her chest and fixed Phyllis and Sam with a steely glare. “Now, I really do have to insist that you let me get to my patients.”

They stood up, and Phyllis said, “Thank you for talking to us. Just one more thing . . . Do you remember what time Jack Carlyle was over at Susan's office?”

For a second Phyllis thought the doctor was going to be stubborn and refuse to answer, but then she said, “No, not really. Sometime during the middle of the day.”

“And it wasn't unusual to see Jack Carlyle over there?”

“That's two more questions,” Dr. Hampton snapped. “But no, it wasn't. Like I said, there's nothing wrong with that.”

“No, of course not. Thank you again.”

They left the office and went back out to Sam's pickup. Neither of them said anything until they were inside the vehicle. Then, as Sam gazed through the windshield across Santa Fe Drive, he said, “Jack Carlyle.”

“We never even thought about him,” Phyllis said.

“Why would we?” Sam asked. “As far as we knew, his only connection to Susan Baxter was bein' married to her sister.”

“We're jumping to conclusions, you know. There could be a perfectly innocent explanation for Jack Carlyle visiting his sister-in-law's office.”

“Sure there could. But Hank was convinced his wife was seein' somebody else. If he was right, and if it was Jack Carlyle, that puts him right smack-dab in the middle of the case.”

“It goes even deeper than that,” Phyllis said. “We need to establish exactly when Carlyle was here. If it was after Hank was, and Susan was still alive . . .”

“That means Hank couldn't have killed her.”

Phyllis thought about it and said, “Well, not exactly. The police could always claim that Hank left, Jack made his visit to the office, and then Hank came back and killed Susan. Actually, it might even strengthen their case. They could say that Hank saw Jack going into the office as he drove off, and his suspicion that Susan was cheating on him was the reason he doubled back and waited for Jack to leave.”

Sam grimaced.

“Yeah, I can see the cops doin' that,” he said. “As long as they think they've got the killer, they'll keep their jaws clamped on him no matter what.”

“It's rather suspicious, though, that Jack hasn't spoken up and told anybody he was here that day.”

“Naw, not really. Why would he want to get himself all tangled up in a murder investigation, especially if he really was foolin' around with his wife's sister? There's a good chance that would come out if he did, and then he'd really be up the creek. He's been married to Meredith for a while. I imagine he's in the habit of keepin' a low profile and not doin' anything that'd get her mad at him.”

“Not letting her know he's doing anything that would get her mad, you mean,” Phyllis said.

“Yeah, that's right.” Sam gripped the steering wheel. “No matter how much we hash it out, one thing seems pretty clear.”

“What's that?”

“We're gonna have to pay a visit to Jack Carlyle,” he said.

P
hyllis recalled from her Internet research that Jack Carlyle was an executive with an insurance company, but she and Sam headed back to the house to dig a little deeper before they set out again.

Sam went to the backyard to check on Buck while Phyllis settled down in front of the computer. Carolyn came into the room behind her and said, “Well, I sent in my recipe to
A Taste of Texas
.”

“That's good,” Phyllis said, somewhat distracted by what she was doing. “Good luck on the contest.”

“Did you see the update on their website? I noticed it while I was submitting my recipe.”

That surprised Phyllis enough that she paused in typing Jack Carlyle's name into the search engine and turned her head to look over her shoulder at her friend.

“You submitted your recipe online?” she asked Carolyn.

“Yes, I did. I thought they might prefer that, even though
the announcement of the contest in the magazine said it was all right to submit through the mail. Everybody's going to these computer things these days.”

“That's right; they are,” Phyllis said. “You normally don't do things on the computer unless you have to, though.”

Carolyn shrugged and said, “I don't want the world to pass me by completely. It's getting to where there are more and more things you
have
to do on the computer, so I thought I might as well start getting in the habit of it.”

“That's probably smart,” Phyllis said with a nod. “Eve and I were talking just the other day about how the world doesn't stand still for anybody.”

“It certainly doesn't. What are you doing there?”

Phyllis finished typing Jack Carlyle's name and hit
ENTER
. As the screen changed and the results began to come up, she said, “Sam and I found out that Susan Baxter's brother-in-law was at her office on the day she was killed. We just don't know what time he was there. Evidently, he was a regular visitor, though.”

“Oh, ho!” Carolyn said. “Hanky-panky with her own sister's husband.”

“We don't know that's what was going on,” Phyllis pointed out.

“Maybe not, but I'll bet it was the first thing you thought of, wasn't it?”

“Well, I suppose it was,” Phyllis admitted.

“And surely a lover is just as likely to have committed a murder as a spouse, I would think. I'll bet somewhere they keep statistics on things like that.”

“Probably.”

Sam came in and asked, “What did you find out?”

“I'm just now getting to the pages I need,” Phyllis said as she moved the mouse over one of the links and clicked it. She studied the website that came up and saw that the insurance company Jack Carlyle worked for had its district offices on the west side of Fort Worth. Carlyle, as a vice president, had his own page. His office was listed as being in the same location.

Sam had been reading over Phyllis's shoulder. He said, “We'll need to do some thinkin' about this. We can't just show up at his office and ask him if he's been havin' an affair with his sister-in-law, let alone ask him if he killed her.”

“I think maybe some surveillance might be in order first,” Phyllis said.

“You mean we should keep an eye on him, see where he goes and what he does?”

“Exactly.”

Sam nodded and said, “I can do that. There's no reason for you to waste your time sittin' in a car watchin' a building.”

Phyllis thought about the suggestion and agreed, not because she wanted to stick Sam with a tedious task but because she thought they might be able to accomplish more by splitting up.

“I'm going back to Susan Baxter's office,” she said. “I have a hunch that young receptionist who works there might be willing to talk more if she's approached in the right way.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Sam said. “I'll head for Fort Worth as soon as we've had lunch.”

“Speaking of which, let's go see about that,” Phyllis said to Carolyn as she got up. Sam took her place in the chair
in front of the computer and started writing down the information about the insurance company where Jack Carlyle worked.

Carolyn and Phyllis decided to make lunch simple but hearty for Sam's stakeout: spaghetti with jar sauce and salad. Carolyn started browning the ground meat as Phyllis put the water on to boil.

While they worked in the kitchen, Phyllis asked Carolyn, “What was that you were saying about some update on the magazine's website? I got sidetracked by that business about Jack Carlyle.”

“They've decided there's going to be a special prize for one of the winners,” Carolyn said. “The person who submits the recipe they pick as the best overall entry is going to be asked to write a guest column for the magazine.”

“That would be exciting,” Phyllis said, “but a little intimidating, too, I would think. I know I'd hate to have to write something that people all over Texas would read.”

“All over the country, you mean.
A Taste of Texas
has a nationwide circulation.”

“Well, that would be even scarier.”

“One of us might have to do it, you know,” Carolyn said. “If one of our recipes is picked as the best.”

Phyllis laughed and shook her head. She said, “Well, now I don't know what to hope for.”

“If one of us wins, Eve can help us.”

“That's true, I suppose.” Eve had been a high school English teacher before her retirement and still knew everything there was to know about grammar and writing rules and such. Even with Eve's help, though, Phyllis would be nervous about
writing something for publication. She didn't like the idea of all those readers out there judging her work.

On the other hand, she'd had a number of recipes published in the newspaper and in locally produced cookbooks, and that didn't bother her at all, even though she knew some people might try them and not like the results. Somehow that was different. As a cook she was used to having both successes and failures. That was just part of the process.

She put that worry out of her mind for the moment. She had more pressing concerns. Lunch, for one thing.

And finding out who had murdered Susan Baxter.

*   *   *

After lunch, Phyllis and Sam split up as planned, Phyllis heading for the hospital district in her Lincoln while Sam started toward Fort Worth in his pickup. This might be a futile errand, Phyllis thought as she drove. Susan Baxter's office might be closed and locked.

When she reached the medical complex, she saw quite a few cars in the parking lot. That didn't mean anything, she reminded herself, because there were several offices in the complex besides Susan's. She found a parking place and walked to the door, passing a car where a woman was sitting and talking on a cell phone.

It was unlocked, but when she went inside no one was in the waiting room. The glass window at the counter was closed. Phyllis looked around and debated whether she should sit down and wait, but before she reached a decision, the young woman who had been there before walked into the reception area from somewhere in the rear of the office. She saw Phyllis, came over to the window, and slid back the glass.

“Hello,” she said. “I'm afraid we're not seeing any patients right—” She was obviously saying the sentence by rote, and she stopped short as she recognized Phyllis. “Oh, hi. You're back.” A puzzled frown creased her forehead. “But I told you the other day about poor Dr. Baxter.”

“Yes, I know you did,” Phyllis said as she cast back in her memory for the receptionist's name. “Raylene, isn't it?”

The young woman smiled and said, “That's right. What can I do for you?”

Phyllis decided her best chance might be to come clean. She put a rueful smile on her face and said, “Raylene, I'm afraid I was here the other day under somewhat false pretenses.”

That confused the young woman again. She said, “You don't need somebody to take out your gallstones?”

“Somebody already did, several years ago.”

“But you're having trouble in that area again?”

“No. That's not it.”

“Then why did you come here?” Raylene asked.

“I'm trying to find out who killed Dr. Baxter,” Phyllis said.

Raylene's eyes widened. She said, “But . . . you can't be doing that. You're not a police detective . . . are you?”

“No. I don't work for the police.”

“Anyway, they've arrested the killer. The other Dr. Baxter . . . the veterinarian . . . killed her. The police arrested him.”

“And I'm sure that's the end of it as far as most people are concerned,” Phyllis said, “but I'm not convinced of it.”

“So you, what, just set out to prove that Dr. Baxter's innocent? The vet, I mean.” Raylene shook her head. “That doesn't make sense. People just don't do that.”

“I'm working with Dr. Baxter's defense attorney. You can call him if you'd like.”

“Does that mean I have to talk to you? Is it like a rule or something?”

Phyllis hesitated. She didn't want to misrepresent the situation. That might get her in trouble, and perhaps more important, it might come back to damage Hank Baxter's defense and make it easier for the real killer to get away with murder.

“No, there's no rule that says you have to talk to me,” Phyllis told the young woman. “But I would think you might want to, since I'm sure you'd like to see Susan Baxter's killer brought to justice.”

“Well, of course I do,” Raylene said. “But the police already arrested the other Dr. Baxter.”

So they were back to that again, Phyllis thought as she tried to control her frustration.

“I just want to ask you a few questions,” she said. “I won't take up much of your time. Would that be all right?” She smiled. Nobody could say no to a smiling grandma, could they?

Raylene sighed, nodded, and said, “All right. But I really don't have much time. I'm updating all the records so that when patients ask me to transfer them electronically to another doctor, they'll be ready to send.”

“I imagine that's a big job,” Phyllis said sympathetically.

“Yeah, it is.” Raylene's eyes rolled slightly. “Not everybody seems to understand that, though.”

Phyllis lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone, even though she and Raylene seemed to be alone in the office, as she said, “Mrs. Carlyle?”

Raylene nodded and said, “I don't suppose you can blame her for wanting everything done right. She's had a lot dumped on her without any warning.”

“Yes, of course.” Phyllis opened her purse. She had come prepared. She had printed out another copy of Kyle Woods's picture, along with one of Jack Carlyle she had gotten off the insurance company website. She didn't think she would need the one of Carlyle, but since she was here, she might as well ask Raylene about Woods, since she and Sam hadn't come into this office earlier that morning. She handed it through the open window to Raylene and asked, “Do you know that man?”

“Oh, sure,” Raylene answered without hesitation. “That's Mr. Woods. He's a friend of the other Dr. Baxter.”

That wasn't true anymore, but evidently Raylene didn't know that. Phyllis said, “He's been here before with Hank Baxter?”

“That's right. And he stopped by once without him.”

“When was that?”

Raylene thought about that, and again her eyes grew wide. She said, “It was the morning that Dr. Baxter was killed.”

Phyllis's pulse jumped. She tried not to let her face or voice reveal what she was feeling as she said, “Are you certain about that?”

“I remember everything about that morning,” Raylene said. She sighed. “It's burned into my memory.”

“Did Mr. Woods have an appointment?”

The young woman shook her head and said, “No, he just stopped by and asked if he could talk to Dr. Baxter for a minute. She wasn't busy right then, so she said yes and told me to show him in. You have to understand, since Dr. Baxter was a surgeon, this isn't like a regular medical practice where you have patients coming in all the time. Her patients were referred to her by other doctors, usually specialists, and she
would meet with them to discuss whatever procedure they needed to have done, but there's not a steady stream of patients coming through.”

“I see,” Phyllis said, nodding. “Had Mr. Woods ever come by here before to see Dr. Baxter?”

A wild thought had just crowded its way into her mind. Although the idea of the sleek, glamorous Dr. Susan Baxter having an affair with the coarse, unpleasant Kyle Woods seemed ridiculous on the face of it, Phyllis supposed stranger things had happened. If it was true, that would make Woods an even stronger suspect in Susan's murder.

Raylene dashed that hope by shaking her head.

“No. I don't think he ever came here any other time except with the vet Dr. Baxter. That's why I was sort of surprised when he stopped by.”

“But Susan Baxter agreed to see him.”

“That's right.”

“Do you know what they talked about?”

Raylene looked a little offended as she said, “I don't eavesdrop on the doctor's conversations. What, do you think I got a glass and pressed it to the door of her private office?”

“No, of course not,” Phyllis said quickly. “I didn't mean anything. I just thought you might know. Dr. Baxter could have mentioned it to you.”

“Well, she didn't.” In a slightly sheepish tone, Raylene went on. “Anyway, I wasn't here. Dr. Baxter had told me I could take the rest of the morning off to handle some personal stuff, so I left right after I showed Mr. Woods into her office. So I don't have any idea what they talked about or even how long he was here.”

Phyllis seemed to be at a dead end in this line of questioning. Since Raylene hadn't been here and Susan was dead, Kyle Woods was the only one who knew what had happened between him and the doctor. And he probably wouldn't answer any questions about it unless he was forced to, something that Phyllis couldn't do.