Fugitive Filling (11 page)

“Hey, Burt. Do you have a second?”

“Hello, Suzanne,” Burt Gentry, the owner of the hardware store, said when he saw me approach. It was odd to see a man with red hair that tan, especially this time of year. “What do you need? I’m busy at the moment.”

“Fine. When you get a chance, I need a word with you.” Taking a page out of my husband’s interrogation book, I just stood there.

He tried to ignore me, but Arthur Bradshaw finally said, “For goodness sake, give the girl two minutes. Your time’s not worth that much, and you know it.”

“Fine,” Burt said, frowning as he stood and faced me. “Make it quick. I’ve got to pick Marge up pretty soon.”

“I can wrap it up with one question. Why did you threaten Teresa Logan on her answering machine the night she died?”

“Would you keep your voice down?” Burt said as he grabbed my arm and walked me up front to where no one was currently standing.

I let him lead me, trying my best not to smile. It appeared that I’d finally managed to get his full attention. “Now, what is this nonsense that you are talking about?”

“Don’t try to deny it, Burt. I heard the message, and so did the police chief. The second I leave here, I’m telling him that it was you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, doing his best to bully me into backing down.

I knew he was bluffing, but he wasn’t counting on me calling him on it. Besides, I had something that would shake his denials to the core.

I pulled out my phone and replayed the message for him.

When he heard the first part of it, “Do you think you can bully me?” in his own voice, Burt made a grab for my phone, but I was too quick for him. I thought about letting it play on, but then I decided that I’d rather get the truth than embarrass him.

He looked mad enough to spit fire. “I said stop that blasted thing.”

I’d already killed it, so I smiled at him sweetly as I asked, “Are you saying that you remember leaving the message now?”

“Of course I remember it,” he said. “I left it right before our ship left port.”

“Where did you go?”

“I took my wife on a short cruise, if you must know. We got back an hour ago, and I just heard about Teresa Logan.”

“I suppose you can prove that,” I said.

“You bet I can. I have the ticket stubs, our receipt for the cruise, and about a thousand witnesses who can verify that I was on board the entire time. Now I don’t know how you got hold of that tape, but you’d better erase it right now, or I’m going to be calling my lawyer. It’s already going to be a mess straightening out all of the chaos that blasted Logan woman was causing me, so I can’t imagine it would cost me that much more to sue you while I’m at it.”

If Burt was telling the truth, there was no point in me having a copy of that voicemail message, and if he wasn’t, I knew that Chief Grant would find out soon enough. I did as he asked and erased the message, and then I smiled. “There you go. It’s gone.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because I’m telling the truth,” I said. “If you don’t trust me, then go ahead and sue me. I bet my mother’s attorneys can embarrass yours, but if you want to find out, I’m ready and willing.”

He didn’t have an answer for that.

I walked out with Jake’s pie, but before I went back to the cottage, I called the chief of police along the way. “Hi, Chief,” I said when he picked up.

“Suzanne, you can call me Stephen if you’d like.”

“No, sir, as a matter of fact, I can’t. Jake explained to me that you’re the chief now, and you deserve the respect that title carries with it.”

“Does that mean you won’t ever call me by my first name again?” he asked, sounding amused and resigned to the fact all at the same time.

“If we all go out on a double date, then you’ll be Stephen.”

“How about if I come into the donut shop for a treat?”

“That depends. Are we talking about your day off?” I asked him.

He paused. “Sure, let’s say that it’s my day off.”

“In that case, it will still be Chief.”

He laughed. “Thanks, I needed that. Is there something I can do for you, or are you just calling to make me smile?”

“There’s something you need to know. I just discovered the name of the mystery man who left a message on Teresa Logan’s answering machine.”

“How did you manage that? I’ve still got the state investigators tracking that down for me.”

“I got lucky. I was at the Boxcar and I overheard Burt Gentry arguing with some of his friends, and the moment I heard him raise his voice, I knew that it was him.”

“Burt! I knew I’d heard that voice before. Don’t say anything to him, okay? I’ll be right there.”

“There might be a problem with that,” I said hesitantly.

“You already spoke to him about it, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry. I did,” I said.

With a resigned voice, he asked, “What did he say?”

“He and Marge took one of those short two day–one night cruises, and he swears that they just got back into town. He claims that he made the call, got on the ship, and then he was on it the time of the murder.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Sadly, I do. I was hoping that he’d lie to me, but he seemed pretty confident that his alibi would hold up, so I don’t think he’s involved with what happened to Teresa Logan.”

“I’m surprised that he confessed that he left the message to you,” the chief said. “How did you manage that?”

“I might have taped it off the machine when we first heard it and then played it back for him to give him a little nudge,” I admitted.

“You
might
have?”

“Okay, that’s exactly what I did. I didn’t figure it could hurt anything, and it might help to have the exact words on tape for further review. If it’s any consolation, I just erased it, so you have the only copy. You don’t mind, do you?”

“What good would it do me to say that I do now?”

“You’re a good guy. I knew you’d understand,” I said. “Oh, by the way, thanks for letting Trish handle packing up Teresa’s things. That was sweet of you.”

“I had ulterior motives,” he said. “As Teresa’s friend, she might notice something that shouldn’t be there or, just as importantly, something that’s missing that should be.”

I didn’t tell him that I’d had that exact same thought. “So, are you claiming that your charitable good deed was just a way to do your job better?” I asked him.

“That’s what it’s going to show in the report I file later, anyway,” he said with a chuckle. “Do you have any more blockbusters for me at the moment?”

“Not just yet, but we’re still working on it.”

“With all that you and Jake are accomplishing, I’m not sure why I shouldn’t just close up the office and go on a cruise myself,” the chief said with a hint of humor in his voice.

“We both know that you’d never do that while Grace was out of town.”

“There are a great many reasons it’s not happening, not just my girlfriend’s absence,” he said. “Thanks for letting me know about Burt.”

“You’ll verify his alibi, just in case?” I asked.

“The minute we hang up,” Chief Grant said, and then he did just that.

As I was putting my cell phone away, I looked up from the parking lot to see my husband walking toward me.

“Is that pie?” he asked.

“It is. I thought you were going to wait for me at home.”

“I got bored,” he said with a grin. “I don’t suppose there’s a fork in there, is there? If there isn’t, it’s not going to be a problem. I’ve been known to use my fingers before, and I’ll do it again if it’s needed.”

“You don’t have to remind me. Let’s see.” I popped open the container and saw that Trish had indeed included a plastic utensil. “You’re in luck.”

He took it from me, and then frowned. “We have a problem.”

“What’s that? You still like peanut butter and chocolate pie, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, but there’s only one fork here.”

“That’s because you don’t have to share your piece. It’s all yours.”

My husband looked at me as though I’d just given him a hundred-dollar bill. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. That’s just the kind of woman you married.”

“You already had some, didn’t you?” he asked suspiciously.

“Part of one, but that doesn’t make my sacrifice any less meaningful.”

“Agreed. You can still have some if you want.”

I couldn’t bear to deprive him of the smallest bite, and I told him so.

He didn’t fight me on it.

After Jake sat on a nearby bench, I brought him up to speed on what I’d uncovered as he ate.

“So, Burt Gentry left that message. It figures. I really don’t like that man,” Jake said.

“I don’t, either,” I agreed. “But apparently he’s not a killer. Where does that leave us?”

“With one less suspect,” my husband said as he happily ate his piece of peanut butter and chocolate pie. “Right now, we’re still looking at Joe Chastain, Becky Rusch, Bobby Wells, and Alexander Rose. I don’t know about you, but after we explore Teresa’s office again, if we don’t find anything else compelling, I say we go after the first two again. Maybe now that they’ve had a little time to stew, they could be a little more pliable.”

“I don’t see how, but I’m willing to speak with them again if you are.”

Jake ate quite a bit more, and then he handed me the container.

“There’s still more pie here,” I protested.

“It’s for you. Consider it a reward for your earlier self-sacrifice.”

“Are you sure? Don’t make me an offer you’re not willing to back up.”

“I’m positive,” he said.

I promptly ate the last two bites. “Thanks. Now, let’s drive over to the office to see if we can unearth another clue.”

Evidently someone had beaten us to it, though.

The front door was busted wide open and was swinging gently in the breeze.

It appeared that someone had taken it upon themselves to do a little searching themselves, and I wondered what we would find there or if they’d uncovered something that we’d missed.

Chapter 11

I
started to go in when
Jake put a hand on my arm.

“What’s going on? We need to check this out.” I said.

“Suzanne, I’m not the police chief anymore, remember? What if someone’s still inside?”

“Then you’ll handle them,” I said.

“I appreciate your vote of confidence, but we’re still calling the chief.” Jake took out his phone and called Chief Grant. “Bishop here. We’re at Teresa Logan’s office, and it looks as though someone has just broken in.”

After a moment of conversation from the other end, Jake hung up. “He’s on his way.”

The chief was as good as his word, because thirty seconds later, we saw a patrol car screaming up the road toward us. “I guess he was close by,” Jake said with a grin.

Chief Grant got out of the cruiser and drew his gun. “Stay right here. I’ll be back.”

“Do you want some backup?” Jake offered.

“Are you armed?”

“No,” my husband admitted.

“Then wait for me.”

We both did as we were told. “I thought you always carried a weapon on you,” I said.

“I usually do, but I’m trying to break the habit,” he said. “After all, I’m not a cop anymore. I’m just a private citizen like everybody else.”

“There’s no way on earth you’re like everybody else. Do me a favor. While we’re investigating a murder, start carrying a weapon again.”

“I didn’t think you approved of me going around armed,” he said.

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know. It’s just the general impression I’ve gotten.”

I shook my head. “The truth is that I’m not sure that I have an opinion one way or the other, but I do know that there have been times in the past when being armed might have made the difference between life and death.”

“Why don’t you carry one, then?” he asked me. “A concealed carry permit isn’t that tough to get.”

“I’d probably end up shooting my own foot, or worse yet, having someone take it away from me. You’ve been highly trained, though. It’s not the same thing at all.”

“That’s probably a fair point. Here he comes,” Jake said as the police chief came out, his gun now holstered. “It’s all clear.”

“Did they get all of Teresa’s files?” I asked.

“No, I had them removed yesterday. I had a feeling someone else might want to see something inside one of them,” he said with a smile. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to replace the lock, and maybe even the door jamb, too,” he told me. “It appears as though someone kicked it in.”

“Isn’t that hard to do? The reason I’m asking is I’m wondering if it means that someone strong did it.”

“Jake, do you want to handle that question?” the chief asked.

“No, it’s more about technique than it is brute strength. As far as I’m concerned, any one of our suspects could have done it,” he told me. “Should I call someone about fixing the lock?”

“That can wait for the moment,” I said, and then I turned to the chief and asked, “How bad is the rest of it?” I envisioned mass chaos inside, and I wasn’t looking forward to cleaning it up.

“Besides the broken lock, you’d never know that anyone broke into the place. My guess is whoever did this saw that the files were gone and took off.”

“So it could have just been a disgruntled client and not a killer,” I said.

“There are quite a few reasons someone could have broken in, and some of them might not have been related to the murder at all. I don’t think they’ll be back, so you should be fine for the moment,” the chief said, “I’d get that door fixed sooner rather than later if I were you.” He turned to Jake before he left. “Thanks for not just barging in and calling me so I could handle this. I appreciate that.”

“Hey, you’re the police chief,” Jake said with a grin. “I’m just an innocent bystander.”

“I don’t know that I’d call you particularly innocent,” I said as I waved good-bye to the police chief and thanked him for coming.

After he was gone, we walked inside, and Jake studied the lock and frame on the way in. “I can probably fix this. I just need to run by the cottage and grab some tools first.”

“That can wait,” I said. “I want to have a good look around before anything else happens here.”

“You heard the chief. Nothing else was taken.”

“That he knows of,” I said. “Do you believe this was just a coincidence?”

“No, but to be fair, I doubt that he does, either.”

“Then why did he just imply that?” I asked.

“He probably wanted to give you a little reassurance that whoever did it probably isn’t coming back.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I do. Either they found what they wanted, or they realized it was already gone. Either way, we should be okay once we get that door fixed.”

“Then let’s go in and see if everybody’s been missing something,” I said.

“If they have, what are the odds of us finding it?” Jake asked me.

“I’ll admit that they aren’t very good, but that’s not going to stop me from searching the place.”

“Lead on,” he said.

We walked into the office together, and I started looking around for anything that might be out of place or missing, but nothing caught my eye immediately. After twenty minutes, I knew that I could have stood there all day and not come up with anything. If there was a clue still here, I wasn’t going to be able to find it.

“I give up. Let’s get the front door fixed.”

Jake shrugged. “Okay, but I’m not at all sure that I can fix that lock.”

“Well, we have to secure it some way,” I said.

“There’s a back door, isn’t there? We can screw the front door shut for now and go in and out through the back until we can get it fixed properly.”

“That’s fine with me,” I said.

“Do you want to come home with me so I can get some things I need to close the door properly?” Jake asked.

“Thanks, but if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to stay here and keep looking around.”

“What happened to us sticking together?” he asked me with a smile.

“What can I say? I made an executive decision.”

“Okay, but be careful, all right?”

I grinned at him. “You said it yourself; nobody’s coming back. They either found what they were looking for, or they broke in and realized that the files weren’t here anymore.”

“Just be careful. It took me a long time to find you, and I’d hate to have to start looking again.”

“I’d hate that, too,” I said.

After my husband was gone, I started taking a closer look around the office. Maybe we’d all missed something up until now.

At the very least, I was going to spend the next five or ten minutes hunting for it.

The search was still a bust, but I did manage to clean the place up a little. I took the trash I’d gathered out back, and as I tossed it into the bin behind the building, I noticed a few rose petals in the bottom of the can. What was going on here? I reached in and plucked two of them out, and then I wrapped them in my handkerchief. When Jake and I had interviewed Becky earlier, the only florist in town had told us that roses had been out of stock for at least a week. So where had all of these petals come from? Then I glanced over at Bobby Wells’s trailer and saw his greenhouse.

That sparked something in my memory.

The florist might be out of roses, but I knew someone who had them.

I was walking toward Bobby’s trailer when Jake pulled up.

“Going somewhere?” he asked me.

I got in and said, “Drive us over to Bobby’s place.”

“What are we looking for?”

“You’ll see,” I said.

We got to the trailer, and Jake headed straight for the front door, while I veered off so I could go into the little greenhouse set up nearby.

“Suzanne, what’s going on?” Jake asked me from the door.

“I want to see something before you knock,” I said as I pulled the door open and walked in. I bent down in the red clay dirt and studied the bushes inside; sure enough, it appeared that one of them had fresh cuts on a few of the stems. The flowers still there were all tight buds, but once they were cut, I knew it wouldn’t take long for them to open up.

I’d found the source of the roses and, in the process, possibly the killer, too.

“What is it?” Jake asked.

“I found more petals in the trashcan out in back of the office,” I said. “Becky told us that they were out of roses when we spoke with her, though. Then I remembered this little greenhouse. Unless I miss my guess, Bobby Wells was the one who was leaving single red roses around town for Teresa.”

“That’s good detective work, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that Bobby killed Teresa Logan, even if he did leave her the flowers. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, but both of the flowers we found were tossed in the trash. If he delivered those flowers and then saw that they’d been ravaged, couldn’t that spur an act of violence after such vehement rejections from Teresa?”

“It’s entirely possible,” Jake said. “Let’s see what he has to say for himself.” My husband and I left the greenhouse and walked up to the trailer door, where he began to pound on it soundly.

There was no reply.

“Maybe he’s at work,” Jake said.

“He got fired, remember?” I asked.

“It sounds as though it was a rash decision to let him go. The manager could have changed his mind. Where else are we going to look for him?”

“You’re right. It’s not a great idea, but it’s the best one we’ve got at the moment.”