Fixin' To Die (A Kenni Lowry Mystery Book 1) (20 page)

“Ronald had run a full panel on Polly’s DNA, which was in both his and Camille’s files. Camille had only run a panel for that specific family gene. Ronald had another piece of paper in there that read ‘Paternity Test.’ The name was blacked out, but there was a number.” Poppa rattled off the number.

“Paternity test?” I questioned. “Mrs. Brown said something about family secrets. I wonder…” I tapped the wheel. “Did the papers have the testing lab on it?”

“DNA Diagnostics. The same one we use for the sheriff’s office.” Poppa grinned.

“It looks like I’m going to have to make a little visit.” I put the Wagoneer in drive.

“That’s not all.” Poppa’s face was gray. “It’s also in Polly’s records that when she was a kid, she had an accident at the pool where she slipped on the concrete, knocking some of her permanent teeth out.”

“She has a partial?” My mouth dropped. I’d never’ve guessed. Poppa nodded his head. Things were becoming very clear.

On my way back to Clay’s Ferry, I called Finn again.

“Finn, I haven’t heard from you today. I wanted to make sure you met with Toots. Also, I just got some more information that you will find very interesting.” I debated on whether to leave the information on the message. “Give me a call. I’d rather tell you and not your voicemail who I think the killer is.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

The lab was in a brown brick building. I hadn’t been there since I became sheriff, but I’d gone with Poppa many times when he was sheriff.

“How can I help you?” A gray-haired man walked out into the waiting room after the doorbell above the door dinged when we walked in.

“I’m Sheriff Lowry from Cottonwood and I am here to look into some DNA paternal lab results that were run here by Doctor Ronald Walton.” I pulled my photo badge from my pocket. Sometimes it wasn’t enough to have on a uniform.

“I can’t believe this old son of a gun is still here.” Poppa took a good look at the elderly man in front of me. “Tom Geary.”

“Mr. Geary.” I put my hand out. “I bet you don’t remember me.” I sure didn’t remember him, but Poppa did and it was time I threw some granddaughter genes around. “I’m Kenni Lowry, Elmer Sims’s granddaughter. I use to come around here with him when he was sheriff of Cottonwood.”

Tom Geary looked me over. His brows narrowed.

“I’m so glad to see you are still here and processing all of our testing.”

He softened. “Do you have the number on the DNA testing?”

Poppa rattled off the number again and I rattled it off to Tom.

“You have a good memory.” He turned and had me follow him to the back.

We walked over to a desk with a computer. The wall behind him was glass and behind that was the lab. There were a couple people who were covered head to toe in surgical scrubs, masks, and gloves working in the lab.

“Tell me that number again.” He typed as I said the number yet again.

“Here we go.” Tom took a closer look. “I’m guessing you don’t have a warrant.”

“You guessed right, but I can get one.” I sighed.

“Well, I might as well give you what you need. I know you’ll be back with a warrant so we can skip that part.” He hit another button on the keyboard and the printer turned on.

He walked over and grabbed the paper the printer had spit out.

“Here are the DNA results Ronald Walton ran.” He showed me the paper. “Here it shows the patient tested positive for Hereditary Spastic Paraplegia, HSP for short. It looks like there was a DNA test run on the mother and father.” He pointed to Polly’s parents’ name. “When they didn’t turn up as having the genes the patient needed in order to have HSP, Ronald ran another test.”

Tom paused.

“He had me run his own DNA.” Tom handed me the paper.

I didn’t need him to tell me what the paper said.

“Are you telling me that Ronald Walton is Polly Parker’s real father?” The words coming out of my mouth shocked me.

“What?” Poppa’s eyes darted back and forth from me to Tom.

“Yes.” Tom Geary had just sealed the case.

“Here is my cell number.” I scribbled it on a piece of paper on his desk. “Please call me as soon as the other evidence Wyatt had you process is finished. I need it ASAP.”

Tom just looked at me as I hurried out of the lab.

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Doc Walton is Polly’s father.” I couldn’t stop saying it. “Her father.”

The information was having a hard time sinking into my thick skull.

“And that gives her a reason to kill him and tells us why the shop was broken into. She stole her own jewelry and a few items from the store so it looked like it was a break-in.” I smacked my hands together. “The family symbol. I knew that was the key to this. Polly found out when that Mr. Parker wasn’t her real dad by the DNA testing.” My mind continued to put together a plausible reason for Polly to have killed Doc. “Polly confronted her mother about the disease. Her mom knew that neither Mr. Parker nor herself had the disease. It was then that Polly realized Mr. Parker wasn’t her father and her mother had to come clean.” I continued to put the clues together. “That explains the stab wounds not being so deep. And since Doc wasn’t the strongest of men, elderly, Polly was strong enough to break the thermometer and hold the mercury beads up to his mouth after she had somehow wrestled him to the ground.” I tapped my finger on the wheel. “And we can’t forget about the teeth.”

“That’s where she went wrong. A good criminal would never do anything to give herself away. She wanted revenge for not only her mother’s affair, but for giving her the HSP.” Poppa still looked shocked.

“And that explains the post-mortem stab wounds. Polly was angry with him.” I started the car and grabbed my phone.

When the jail’s answering machine picked up, I left a message. “Wyatt, since you aren’t at the jail, I’m going to run by your house. I hope you’re there. I know who killed Doc Walton, the motive, and why they broke into the jewelry store.”

“I knew you could do it, Kenni-bug.” Poppa and Duke both sat in the passenger seat.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” I pushed the pedal down to the ground. I couldn’t wait to get to Wyatt’s. He was going to be just as happy as I was that this was a solved case. 

Thank goodness I was the law because I drove as fast as I could, disregarding the speed limit. I had to get to Wyatt’s so we could get our warrants in a row and put Polly Parker behind bars without any backlash from her father. Mr. Parker had a way of making things disappear and I was sure if I didn’t cross my T’s and dot my I’s on this case, he would find some sort of loophole and she’d never be brought to justice.

No wonder Mrs. Parker didn’t want to talk to me. No wonder Polly had gotten defiant. There was no doubt in my mind that the Parkers would do anything to keep this little family secret buried in the backyard. Even murder.

I made it back to Cottonwood in record speed.

“Lookie there.” Poppa pointed at the small station wagon when we pulled up in front of Wyatt’s house. “B3 G60 Syncro Passat, and the tires are muddy.”

“And the mud came from the back of Doc Walton’s house.” I knew I had her. “Polly and Mr. Parker must be in there with Wyatt. I can’t let them leave. We need to enter the tires as evidence.”

I pulled past Wyatt’s house and parked on the street a couple of houses down. I grabbed my bag and took out the camera. If anything happened to the car, I would have pictures. I made sure my gun had bullets and slipped my shoulder holster around my chest, snapping it snug.

“It’s time to give Polly her bracelet back and give her the bad news,” I said to Poppa. He was raring to go and already out of the car waiting on the sidewalk.

In an ideal confrontation with a criminal, I would prefer to have backup. My only hope was that Wyatt was there.

When we got up to the car, I snapped several pictures of the tires from all different angles. I glanced around the street and didn’t see Wyatt’s car.

“Where’s Wyatt?” I asked Poppa.

“How would I know?” He shrugged. There was an irritated look on his face. I watched as he looked around. “Something isn’t right.”

“You feel it too?” I asked, and sat the butt of my hand on my gun. “Something’s going on in there.”

Poppa put his finger to his lips. He tiptoed to the back as if someone was going to hear him and I followed, only I had my gun out and gripped.

I busted in the back door with my gun stretched out in front of me.

“Where is Wyatt?”

Polly Parker was sitting at Wyatt’s kitchen table; Wyatt’s gun-cleaning kit was strewn out along with his shotgun.

“What is wrong with you, Kenni? I swear.” She grabbed the barrel of the gun. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“Put the gun down now!” I jabbed my gun toward her. “I know all about your disease and Doc Walton being your daddy and the lengths you’ve gone to make sure no one knows.”

Her face turned fifty shades of red, ending in pink.

With one hand on my gun, I slipped the pearl bracelet out of my pants pocket. I swung it in the air.

“This little baby was your mistake. You thought you could take it to a pawn shop to get rid of the evidence.” I buried it in my palm and grabbed the butt of the gun to steady my shaking hand. “Wyatt!”

Polly put her hands in the air and slowly stood up. “Wyatt isn’t here. He and my dad went to the store. Why don’t you sit down and let me explain?”

“No.” I waved my gun for her to sit back down. No wonder Wyatt’s car wasn’t there. “You sit down and I’ll tell you how things are going to go down.”

“You can’t tell my dad.” Polly’s eyes teared up and her face started to contort, reminding me of her mother’s. “He doesn’t know he isn’t my father.”

“Did you call Toots and tell her about how you killed Doc Walton because you found out that he was really your father and he had HSP, the same disease you have?” I asked through gritted teeth, never once taking my eyes off of her. “I know Toots was fired and she’d do anything for you. Did she go back to the scene of the crime and try to cover up your mess? Did she take the knife out of his neck? The knife you used to stab into his already dead body? How did you use the mercury? I never figured you for that smart.”

I painted a bleak and ugly picture with my words so she could visualize the evil she had done in her pretty little head.

“My parents took a break!” she screamed, pounding her small fist on the table. “They were on the verge of divorce and she went to see Doc Walton for medication to help her with depression. That horny old man took advantage of her!”

Polly’s shoulders slumped and she fell to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. She might have gotten some sympathy if Wyatt was home, but she wasn’t getting any from me.

“So you went to see Doc Walton about the results and found out he was your father. Then you went to work and made it look like a break-in. Sick! You pulled a Son of Sam and drew the Chinese family symbol on him and the floor of the jewelry store. Then you pawned your bracelet so it looked like a thief did it.” I kept my gun on her.

“I pawned my bracelet to pay for the genetic testing so I wouldn’t use my parents’ insurance. I didn’t want them to find out so I paid for it myself,” Polly said in a shaky voice, her eyes staring at the gun.

“Oh, how convenient. A little too tidy, if you ask me.” I’d heard enough. It was time to get this crime in the books. “Polly Parker, you are under arrest for the murder of Doctor Ronald Walton.”

“What is going on here?” Wyatt stood at the back door, his mouth open, his eyes wide. “Kenni, put the gun down.”

“Wyatt, keep her father out of here.” I kept my gun on her and didn’t move. “She killed Doc Walton because he was her father. She found out and went nuts. When she realized what she did, she wanted to make sure she wasn’t a suspect, so she ransacked White’s and took the jewelry to the pawn shop.” I used one hand to pull out the bracelet and tossed it to Wyatt. “You were right. Shirley ID’d Polly just like we thought.”

“Wyatt?” Polly lay limp on the ground. Her head tilted up. “You think I killed my own father? Where is my dad?”

“I’ll cuff her,” said Wyatt. Taking one hand off my gun, I jerked my cuffs off the strap on my shoulder holster and tossed them to Wyatt.

“Are you sure about this?” Wyatt asked and bent down next to Polly. “I left her dad at the dealership. He’s buying a new car.”

“Cuff her,” I growled, glaring at the cold-blooded killer.

“Polly didn’t kill anyone.” Poppa stood in the hallway next to Wyatt’s kitchen. I turned my attention toward him. “You need to go to the bathroom.”

Wyatt took the cuffs and did what I told him.

“What?” Nothing was adding up. Everything pointed to Polly Parker.

“Kenni-bug, calm down. Take a breath. Gather your wits. Polly didn’t do it,” Poppa insisted. “Go to the bathroom.”

I looked between Wyatt and Polly a couple of times before I dropped my gun to my side and walked back to Wyatt’s bathroom.

“What are you doing, Kenni?” Wyatt asked, walking on my heels. “Kenni, you need to go see a doctor. I think you’re losing it.”

Poppa stood over the bathroom countertop. He pointed to the medicine cabinet.

“Kenni.” Wyatt’s voice hardened. “Don’t.”

My eyes drew down to the sink where there was denture cream and a box for dentures. I grabbed the cabinet door and opened it. Quickly I scanned down all of the empty prescription bottles with Doc Walton’s name on the label. Rows and rows of empty Oxycodone bottles. I grabbed the last bottle and held it up to the light. Little balls of mercury filled it halfway. My eyes glanced down at the trashcan where shards of glass glistened.

“What is this?” I asked, unable to believe what I was seeing. “Did you break a bunch of thermometers and collect the balls in this bottle?”

“Kenni.” Wyatt stuck his hand out in front of him. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“It’s exactly what it looks like.” Poppa pounded his fist in his open hand and ghosted himself out of the bathroom.

“What is this?” I repeated, picking up the trashcan.

“Kenni!” Poppa yelled from the other room. I ran out into Wyatt’s office. There was a picture of Wyatt Granger with the B3 G60 Syncro Passat, smiling proudly standing next to it. In an open white jewelry box sitting by the photo was Viola’s big diamond. “Wyatt is the killer.”

“Oh, Kenni.” Wyatt had followed me to his office. A grin crossed Wyatt’s face.

“It’s okay, Wyatt. We can get through this.” I sucked in a deep breath, hoping he’d buy my sensitive side and I could gain control of the situation.

“I don’t think so.” Wyatt wagged his finger in front of me. “See, I can’t just let you go now, Kenni. It’s a shame that our sheriff is going to be found dead in a murder-suicide. Since you uncovered Polly and Doc’s secret, it gives Polly a motive to kill him and now you and herself, because she just couldn’t bear the humiliation this is going to bring to her prestigious, squeaky-clean image. Though she is screwing our mayor.” Wyatt let out a bitter laugh.

“Wyatt.” I had to buy some time. The evidence I had collected and Wyatt’s reaction to all of it swirled in my head, making me sick to my stomach. “We can get you out of this.”

“Oh, yeah. Jailer kills doctor, because the doctor gave him all the drugs in the world until he got a conscience and decided not to prescribe any more to him. That will not make a good headline, Sheriff.” Wyatt lifted his pant leg and grabbed his handgun out of his ankle strap. There was also a knife strapped around his calf.

“Oh my God.” My hand flew up to cover my mouth. The harder I tried to hide my feelings, the more I couldn’t. “Is that the knife?”

“It is.” Wyatt shook his head, pride on his face. “Did you think I was stupid enough to leave it at the crime scene?”

“You saw
Summer of Sam
at Luke’s. You’ve been planning this for a long time and had Polly Parker in your mind as your fall guy. Her father is one of your best friends.” Bits and pieces of evidence were coming together in my head, finishing the puzzle.

“Your father is also one of my best friends.” His evil was showing. “Don’t worry. I’ll comfort your daddy and your mama.”

“You know you’ll never get away with this,” I warned. “Finn Vincent knows about the evidence. Your tire tracks left at the crime scene. Everything.”

“I wouldn’t worry about him.” He walked over and shoved the gun in my ribs. I grimaced in pain. “I assured him that you and I had this under control this morning. I saw him at Cowboy’s waiting on Toots while you went off on the wild goose chase to the pawn shop. It was lucky that I had decided to drop by the office. If not, Finn Vincent would still be in Cottonwood. I called the reserves and thanked them for loaning him to us while we were between deputies and that the case was solved.”

He pushed the barrel of the gun deeper into my ribcage.

“Move it. I’ve got to get this done before Pete Parker gets back with his new car. Polly didn’t want to go and it was the perfect opportunity for me to kill her, but then you showed up.”

Polly Parker was eerily quiet when we walked back into the kitchen. Her eyes were fixed on the gun Wyatt had stuck in my back.

“Small-town secrets have a way of bubbling up to the surface,” Poppa said and smiled before he walked off into thin air.

“Don’t leave me now!” I screamed, just as Wyatt flung me to the ground next to Polly.