Fixin' To Die (A Kenni Lowry Mystery Book 1) (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Early the next morning I took Duke for a run while my morning coffee brewed. When I came back, I surveyed the door to determine how I was going to put a Band-Aid on it until I could take the time to really fix it.

“You did a number on poor old Mrs. Brown.” Poppa smacked his leg as he went into a full-on fit of laughter. “I thought she was going to drop a load when you had that gun pointed at her.”

“I don’t think you’re funny.” I continued to survey the door and sip my coffee. “You aren’t the least bit amusing and you’re not helping me.” I turned around and put my hands on my hips when I came face to face with him.

I grabbed the paper Mrs. Brown had given me and placed it on the kitchen counter. Somehow I was going to have to add this new information about Polly to the investigation. Not that Polly having a family disease pointed to Doc’s murder or the break-in, but I had a nagging feeling that it needed to be looked into.

I opened the cupboard under the sink, grabbing the screwdriver set I had picked up at a garage sale when I moved into the house. I plucked the Phillips head out and did the best repair of the hinges I could until I had real time to devote to it. “I needed you last night. You could’ve ghosted your way in here and told me that it was only Mrs. Brown.”

The more I talked, the harder I pushed the screwdriver in the stripped screw and turned faster.

“Wait.” It had just occurred to me: I didn’t need any dang warrant; I had Poppa. “I need you to do something.”

“Do what?” He had a hurt look on his face.

“You zip in and out of places and no one but Duke and I can see you.” The idea of having Poppa be a fly on the wall started to sound really enticing. “I want you to go to Camille Shively’s office and search through her files. See if anything pops out at you.”

“I guess I could.” Suddenly color came back into his face and the sneaky smile I loved grew across his lips. “And this will ramp up the investigation.”

“I won’t be able to prove what you find without the warrant and file in my hand, but you will definitely help speed up the investigation.” People would really question how I got my hands on information without the warrant and an investigation on me would be the last thing I needed.

“I’m not a bad carpenter.” I swung the door back and forth. It was a little lopsided, but it was on the hinges and in working order until I could find the time to replace it.

“Where do you go when you aren’t with me?” I asked, easing down in a chair at my kitchen table and drinking more coffee. “If you’re going to be my ghost partner, then I think you need to tell me.”

“If you must know,” Poppa whispered as though he were hiding something, “I was at Luke Jones’s house.”

“Why were you at Luke’s?” I asked, knowing he was on my list of people to see. I had to get his opinion on those tire tracks.

“
Gunsmoke
.” Poppa dropped his head. “I’m a sucker for Audie Murphy.”

He was. Every Sunday I would go to Poppa’s house; it was his day of rest and he watched western movies all day long. The 1953 classic happened to be one of his favorites.

“Luke is showing
Gunsmoke
?” I asked. Poppa nodded. “Early bird special too?” He nodded again. I looked at the clock on the stove. I loved popcorn for breakfast. I filled Duke’s bowl with a bunch of kibble and made sure he had a full bowl of water.

“You stay here.” I gave him a good rub on his head and grabbed my gun and keys. “Come on, Poppa. We’re going to the movies.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Movies?” Poppa asked once we got back in the car. “I thought we had other people to talk to about the murder.”

The pink Beetle caught my eye in the Dixon Foodtown parking lot. I whipped the Wagoneer into the parking lot.

“What are you doing here? I thought you said movies,” Poppa screamed, holding on to the handle on the side of the passenger door as if I was about to kill him. “Grocery shopping should be the last thing on your list when there is a killer on the loose. You are burning good daylight.”

“If I’m going to the movies, I need to get me a Diet Coke. There is something just not right about eating popcorn without a Diet Coke.”

I kept my eye on Toots’s VW Bug.

“Popcorn for breakfast?” Poppa questioned.

“And there’s no time like the present to question Toots Buford about Doc Walton firing her and the fact that she left out that bit of information.” I jerked the Wagoneer into the space next to Toots’s car. Maybe she could let me in on why she was at Doc’s office that morning.

“It’s a little tight over here.” Poppa looked out the window at the space between my car and Toots’s.

“Well, good thing you’re a ghost and you can just whip on through.”

The sign on the door informed customers of their safety, that Dixon’s was taking extra precautions by having extra lighting in their parking lot and Baskin’s Security had installed better surveillance cameras.

“Hmm…” I tapped the sign. “Little do they realize, Toots just might be the one they are ramping up their security for.”

“You never know. It is strange she was at Ronald’s when she was fired.” It was good to hear Poppa working again. I had always loved how he would talk out his ideas with me when he had a case.

My parents begged him to stop telling me about the bad criminals of the world and said he was going to corrupt me, but I loved it and had to believe I might have helped him figure out a few things. Now was no different.

“Her reasoning could hold a lot of the answers you need to solve Ronald’s death,” Poppa said, pointing to the cashier’s station.

“I have to buy something besides a Diet Coke,” I said to Poppa, trying to figure out what I could buy that wouldn’t make Toots run off and tell the town council that I was harassing her at work.

“Duke needs a bone.”

“Perfect.” I snapped my fingers and walked down the produce aisle.

A familiar voice came from the next aisle over. It escalated with each word.

“One of these days I’m going to get out of this crazy town!” The shrill voice was none other than Polly Parker.

“You’ll thank me one day,” her father growled.

“No, I won’t.”

Polly sounded even angrier.

I put my ear up to the piled papayas, parting a few so I could hear them a little clearer.

“Your mama and I have done the best we could by you and you have been nothing but ungrateful. You think you can go around doing whatever you want to whoever you want,” Mr. Parker said in a hushed whisper.

Silence stood between them, but after the sound of a squeaky cart passed, they started up again.

“When your mama and I heard about what happened, we knew it was you,” he said.

My ears were perked up more than Duke’s when I gave him a juicy ham bone. I leaned a little closer until I was practically laying in the fruit.

“Is it telling you it’s ripe?” a guy with a Dixon’s Foodtown apron asked, causing me to jump around, sending the piled up papaya into an avalanche.

“Oh no.” I put my hand out, willing them to stop to no avail. They continued to tumble and tumble until there wasn’t a papaya left in the bin.

Poppa was cracking up as the papaya gathered around his feet. He kicked one toward me. The produce worker watched as the solitary papaya rolled toward me after the others had rolled away from me.

“That must be the one.” I reached down, grabbed it, and tossed it in the air before catching it with one hand. “My dog loves papaya.”

I didn’t look back. I decided against the bone. It was best I got in Toots’s line and out before Polly and her father saw me.

Toots looked none too happy as she ran the items across the scanner and the cash register beeped. I grabbed a Diet Coke from one of the mini coolers on the end of Toots’s line.

“Will this be all?” Toots asked before she looked up.

“Fancy seeing you here.” I slipped a few dollars out of my pocket and smacked it on the conveyor belt. “I had no idea you were working here again.”

“I haven’t been back long.” Toots’s face was pasty white against her maroon hair.

“I’m glad I ran into you. Saves me a trip to your house.” I looked behind me to make sure there were no customers, especially the Parkers.

“Why?”

Her lips smacked together.

Another customer came up behind me and started unloading their grocery cart on the conveyor belt. “Where will you be around lunch time?”

“I’ll meet you at Cowboy’s Catfish.” She didn’t bother telling me to have a good day or even goodbye. She simply took the first item of the customer behind me and ran it across the scanner.

Chapter Thirty

“I wonder what Polly Parker and her father were talking about,” I said to Poppa on our drive over to Luke Jones’s house. “He said that once they heard, they knew it was her. Do you think they were talking about the jewelry store? Do you think Polly did it? She has this disease. How does that affect her?” I sucked in a fast deep breath and let my thoughts roll out of my mouth. “And what does it have to do with Doc Walton if we are trying to tie her to the murder? According to Mrs. Brown, Doc knew about the disease.” I snapped my fingers. “Poppa, do you think Polly went to see Camille Shively because of the disease? Maybe Polly told Doc Walton she was going to get a second opinion.”

“Doc was very protective of his patients and his diagnoses.” I loved how Poppa and I played our ideas off of each other. “I wouldn’t put it past Ronald to have confronted Camille Shively like it’s been reported.”

“That’s whose file you have to find.” I felt like a piece of the puzzle had just clicked into place. “You have to go to Camille’s and look for her file.”

“I do think there is something very fishy between Polly and Toots.” Poppa squirmed around in his seat as if he was uneasy. “I think you’re on the right track about the files. I just have a sneaking suspicion that one might be taking up for the other. They are best friends. But who is the killer?”

“I think you’re on track. Something is odd.” My head turned side to side trying to find a parking spot. I couldn’t drop the idea that maybe Polly’s secret was in those files. The conversation between her and Camille Shively wasn’t far from my memory.

The street in front of Luke’s was lined with cars. I recognized most of them. One of them was Wyatt’s.
Gunsmoke
was a popular movie in Cottonwood. Most westerns were. I took a couple trips around the street to see if anyone had left yet and left a vacant parking spot, but no such luck. I had to park around the corner and walk.

“You know, I was looking around,” Poppa said. “And I saw some posters for the
Summer of Sam
movie.”

“You did?” I didn’t recall Luke ever showing that movie.

“I did. It looked like he showed it around a year ago. It might be something to ask him about since you are here. Maybe see who was there?” Poppa made some good suggestions.

“I’m not real sure what it has to do with the crimes, but there might be a correlation since the Chinese symbol was found at both crime scenes. How does this tie into Viola, Toots, and Polly?” I tucked Poppa’s information in the back of my head.

“I found clues in places I never thought would pan out. This could be a good lead.” Poppa was right. Sometimes the strangest ideas brought clues I’d never thought of. “You just have to eliminate one person at a time.”

We made our way to the back of Luke’s house to the basement door. The big sign above the door was lit up. It said “Shh,” which meant the movie was in progress.

I slipped in, sticking a couple of dollars in the donation box, and grabbed a popcorn from Vita, Luke’s wife.

“Sheriff.” Vita greeted me with a smile.

“Is Wyatt here?” I asked, squinting through the darkness.

“He’s up in that group somewhere.” She pointed. “They come for all the westerns. But they never give good donations. I told Luke to charge them, but he doesn’t.” She groaned. “It might not cost a lot to run a reel, but it costs something.”

“I’m sure it does,” I agreed with her. “Thank you, Vita.”

I held the bag of popcorn up to my lips and grabbed a piece with my tongue, flipping it in the clutches of my teeth. Mmm…there was nothing better than a perfect piece of buttery, salty popcorn.

I picked a seat right behind Wyatt, who was sitting behind the mayor. He and the other men didn’t notice. There were a few people scattered here and there, but I couldn’t tell in the dark who was there and who wasn’t.

Mayor Ryland didn’t even try to whisper. “Viola White called me saying Kenni accused her of killing Ronald while they were playing Euchre.”

“She did what?” Wyatt jerked to the side to face Mayor Ryland.

“Yeah.” Mayor Ryland let out a puff of air in a laugh. “I wish I could’ve voted you in as her deputy. That way you could keep an eye on this investigation.”

It took everything I had not to come to my own defense.

“She’s doing a fine job. She’s using Finn, and he’s doing a good job too,” Wyatt took up for me.

“Shh.” A voice from behind me pierced the darkness.

“It doesn’t stop there.” This time Mayor Ryland whispered, forcing me to lean in a little more. “Viola also said that Patty Brown called her and said Kenni pulled her gun on her.” Mayor Ryland shook his head. My jaw dropped. Did she leave the part out that she was in my home?

“I’ll talk to her.” Wyatt took a handful of popcorn and shoved it in his mouth. I wished he’d shoved it in the mayor’s face.

Fifteen minutes into the movie, I looked to the back of the room where Luke and Vita were busy cleaning out the popcorn machine. It was probably the only opportunity I was going to have to ask him about the tires and the
Summer of Sam
movie.

Mayor Ryland glanced over his shoulder when I got up and the chair squeaked. Luckily, he didn’t turn completely around and see me.

“Kenni, I didn’t know you were here.” Luke poured butter into the popcorn machine. My mouth watered. “I keep a close eye on who comes to see what their tastes are so I can get movies everyone likes.” There was pride on his face.

Luke and Vita were good people.

“It looks like a great crowd for the early showing.” I kept my voice down so I wouldn’t bring attention to us. That was the last thing I wanted to do.

“These old westerns always bring in crowds. I didn’t take you for a western kind of girl.” He opened the Morton’s salt container and practically poured the entire thing into the popcorn machine.

“I’m known to watch a western or two since my Poppa loved them.” I smiled, recalling the fond memory. “But I’m really here to ask you a couple of questions about some tires.”

“The Wagoneer really can’t go wrong with the Dunlop. A little pricey, but well worth the wear and tear you put on your car with your job.” He nodded his head. “I bet you could get the town council to vote and use the town funds to purchase them.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, but I’m here to ask about some tire prints I found at Doc Walton’s.”

His face clouded with uneasiness. He motioned for me to follow him out the door and I did.

“I’m asking for your opinion since I believe you’re the expert in all things cars, not to mention movies.” Stroking his ego was my way of buttering him up like he did the popcorn.

Luke’s chest puffed out; he tried to contain his smile as he tugged on the waistband of his jeans. His upper lip curled as he took a deep breath of pride.

“I do know a lot about cars.”

“Yes, you do.” I snapped my fingers and pointed at him. “That is why I came directly to you.”

I pulled my phone out, found the pictures Finn had emailed me, and let him take a good look at them.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to hold my phone.

I handed it to him. He flipped through the pictures and I waited for his response.

He let out a lot of groans and grunts along with a few huhs. A few times he tapped a picture and acted as though he was going to say something, but then kept it to himself.

“Very interesting. I believe these are tire tracks from a fifteen-inch Le Castellet wheel. Very rare; I’ve never seen a set around Cottonwood.” He continued to look at the photos. “I’ve only seen photos since people around here don’t drive foreign cars.”

“Foreign?” I asked.

“You know, we all drive Fords or Chevys.” He laughed. “But this type of tire is from a B3 G60 Syncro Passat.” He showed me the photo. “Volkswagen, small station wagon type of car.”

“You’ve never seen this type of car or tire around here?” I asked again to make sure I heard him right. I had to wonder if this was someone who was traveling through and committed both crimes.

“Never.” He pushed the forward button and looked at the next photo. “Oh my God.” He gasped, his eyes looking up at me hollowly.

“What?” I asked, taking my phone back. The picture of the Chinese family symbol on Doc Walton’s wrist was on there. “I didn’t mean for you to see that.” I stuck the phone back in my pocket.

“What the hell was that?”

“You are still under the law, so this stays between me and you. Now that I have your expert opinion on these tires, I’m more convinced than ever this was not someone in our community and may be someone who is on a crime spree across the state.”

Boy, was I getting good at making stuff up. But I had to do what I needed to do to get him to believe how important it was to keep quiet. I decided to take the opportunity to ask about the movie
Summer of Sam
.

“Say,” my eyes lowered, “have you ever shown the movie
Summer of Sam
?”

He nodded. “Yeah, about a year ago.”

“You did?” I asked. “I don’t remember that, and I usually have your schedule posted on my refrigerator.”

“It was only one night because it got stolen. It was the only film I had on DVD.” He rolled his eyes. “Go figure.”

“Can you recall if Polly Parker came to see it?” I asked, wanting to have a connection between her and the crimes as well as Poppa’s claim that she stole a movie.

His lips pursed as though he was remembering something. Slowly he nodded his head. “She was here, come to think of it. Not many people were, but she stuck out because I didn’t figure her for a gory girl.”

“Huh.” I scratched my head. My internal alarm went off.

Polly Parker was becoming more and more connected to the crimes. First the break-in; then she was adamant the crimes were tied to the new condo complex by Doc Walton’s, as though she was trying to get the heat off her; plus her disease Mrs. Brown told me about. But why would she kill Doc? Surely a second opinion on her disease wasn’t a good enough motive for her to kill. Something was missing.

It was proven most of Doc’s stab wounds were shallow, and Polly wasn’t strong. I had said the same for Viola and Toots. But I needed hard evidence. Everything I was going on was circumstantial, not enough to arrest someone.

A knife sticking out of his neck.
Chills overcame my body and I found myself shaking in my shoes when I remembered Betty Murphy’s words when she called me over the walkie-talkie. Where was that knife? There was no knife when I went to the scene. The only person in there was Toots.

I gulped. Was Toots an accomplice? I recalled going to Camille’s and hearing Polly Parker’s voice in the exam room next to me. Maybe Polly was upset about the disease this whole time.

“Say, doesn’t Polly’s father have a bunch of cars?” I’d always heard Mr. Parker had a garage just for his vintage cars.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t let me work on them. He sends all of them to those fancy dealerships.” He scoffed. “Spends money like it’s water.”

“Thank you for your time.” I had to get out of there. I had to figure out how to put Polly Parker at the crime scene. I was more convinced than ever that she was the killer. Luke put his hand in the air before he walked back into his basement.

Polly Parker was mad. Doc Walton diagnosed her with the disease. The family disease, which was where I could connect the Chinese family symbol. Her father owned fancy cars, which would explain any strange and unusual tire marks. She killed Doc Walton in a fit of rage, and though I still couldn’t explain the mercury, I would. Then she called Toots to help her. Toots came to take out the knife and panicked when Sterling Stinnett showed up. We wouldn’t think it was strange she was there because we thought she still worked for Doc Walton. While Toots was there covering for her best friend, Polly let herself into White’s Jewelry where she staged a break-in so she’d have an alibi to place her at White’s. But where was the diamond?

Polly Parker killed Doc Walton and Toots Buford was an accessory to murder. I was more convinced than ever.

“Sheriff?” someone called out into the night air as I made my way back to the car. “Can I talk to you?”

Sterling Stinnett stepped out from behind one of the tall oak trees that lined the sidewalk in front of Luke’s.

“Sterling.” I was relieved to see it was just him. “Sure.”

“I wasn’t sure how to ask this, but I was at the town meeting when Finn was voted in as your deputy.” He scuffed the toe of his beat-up shoe on the ground, his head down. “I was wondering if I was still helping out like y’all asked. I mean, if you need me.” He lifted his head. His eyes dipped down. “I sure did like helping out. I felt important.”

“Yes.” I nodded, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “I definitely need all eyes and ears on the lookout for anything. You understand?” I asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled. “I’ll keep my eyes and ears to the ground like a good hound dog.”

“Thank you so much, Sterling.” I waved over my shoulder on the way back to my car.