Murder by Artifact (Five Star Mystery Series) (35 page)

Concerned that Caro hadn’t opened the door, Theo rang the bell again. The door was jerked open in her face. Gregory loomed. An angry expression contorted his face and he held a broom in his hand. There was no hint of recognition in his face.

“Hi, Gregory, is Caro at home?”

He shook his head and stared. He remained silent.

Theo studied his eyes. Alzheimer’s had robbed him of so much. Now it had even robbed him of his wife. She heard Caro call out from the kitchen. “Theo, is that you?”

Theo smiled. “May I come in?”

“Why?” A hint of confusion alleviated some of Gregory’s rage.

Remembering Caro often said lying was often the best option, and the bigger the lie, the more easily believed, Theo said, “I’m supposed to come clean your floors.” She held out her hand. “Is that the broom you want me to use?”

Gregory handed her the broom and turned and shuffled away. Theo dashed into the kitchen where Caro lay on the floor, helpless.

“Oh, Caro, honey.” Theo knelt by the old woman. “How badly are you hurt?”

“I can’t get up.” Caro’s eyes filled with tears. “I think my hip’s broken.”

Theo glanced over her shoulder. Gregory sat on the edge of his recliner, staring with empty eyes at the flickering image on the television. Pulling out her cell phone, Theo called Doc Nash, explaining the situation. Then she sat on the floor and held Caro’s hand. “What happened?”

“He didn’t know who I was and it frightened him.” Tears slipped down Caro’s cheeks. “He would never hurt me on purpose.”

“I know, Caro, but now he has.” Theo pulled the dishtowel from the counter and wiped the tears away. “I’ll call your son.”

“He’s in Kansas City on business. That’s why he couldn’t come stay with Gregory last Thursday.”

“Then who else should I call?”

“I don’t know.”

Theo felt so hopeless and helpless. She hurried to let Doc Nash in and secure the high latch behind him so Gregory couldn’t unlock it and wander off. Only because Caro was with him had the door been unlocked; otherwise they would have had to break it down.

Doc Nash greeted Gregory like the old friend he was. Moving quietly, he made his way into the kitchen. A cursory examination was all he needed before calling the ambulance. “It’s the hospital in Knoxville for you, my dear.”

“And Gregory, what about him?”

Doc Nash looked thoughtful. Glancing at Caro, the house, and Gregory. “He can’t stay here. He loves you best and turned on you. A stranger would be too disturbing for him. I guess he’ll ride along with us in the ambulance. I’ll send him to the geriatric psych ward to get his medications adjusted. After that, we’ll see. Maybe you can both recuperate at the same nursing home and come home together if that’s what you want.”

Theo hurried off to pack a couple of small bags, one for each of them. Out of habit, she glanced out the front windows into the yard. Caro’s favorite flowerpot was gone. The thing was huge and heavy. Her nephew had taken a small barrel and covered it with broken ceramic tiles, making a mosaic design of cardinals.

Still depressed from the trauma at Caro’s home, Theo tried to busy herself.

The moment Tony walked into her studio, Theo knew he came to hear her news about Caro. She looked up from her sewing machine and focused on him. He wasn’t smiling.

“Are you okay?” Tony ruffled her curls.

She nodded. “Caro and Gregory will never be the same. In a way, this might work out better for them both. He’ll be well cared for, entertained, get his medications on time; everything Caro couldn’t do for him. Caro will visit him often, of course, but she’ll be able to heal and sleep at night.” Theo frowned. “Did you know she had to get up with him about eight times a night? He wandered around banging on the walls, searching for something that only he knew about.”

Tony smiled but the sadness in his eyes bothered her. She’d never shared with him all the terrible or terrifying moments Caro lived with. People without personal experience with dementia rarely understood its impact on patient and caregiver. Time to change the subject, she thought. “It seems like months since we talked. What happened in Chattanooga and out at the museum?You sent us all away.”

Looking surprised by the number of events in the short time, Tony sat on the window seat and the kitten jumped up next to him. “We arrested Mac.”

“Mac? Why would he kill Doreen’s look-alike?” She frowned, more at the exhausted expression on his face than at the news. “Did he know who she was?”

Tony nodded and handed her a newspaper clipping encased in an evidence bag. “Actually I’m hoping for your opinion. This was in her purse.” He paused. “We found it on the seat of her car which was pushed deep into the underbrush.”

“Oh, my.” Theo swallowed hard. The photograph showed Doreen and Bathsheba holding up the murder quilt. Doreen sported her latest hairstyle and most dazzling smile. In the background, Mac’s face was captured, smiling widely, exposing a distinctive gap between two of his teeth. “This is the reason she drove up here.”

Tony nodded. A frown still creased his face. “I doubt it will take long to find the hairdresser who transformed Patti into Doreen’s look-alike.”

Theo agreed. “If she had a regular hairdresser in Chattanooga, I’d guess she transformed Patti fairly often.”

“What do you think? As a woman?” Tony looked up from the photograph. “Was it seeing the man or the woman or the quilt that compelled her to drive up here?”

Theo pushed her glasses up her nose. “Probably the combination. I’m certainly no expert. I’d guess she felt cheated all her life. Her father says he loved her but he didn’t insist she could take her place in the family album. You’ve got her grandmother and half sister holding an heirloom for the family she felt had rejected her.”Theo sensed an even deeper pain had driven Patti. “Her husband deserted her by dying. The only child she ever conceived she miscarried. I feel sorry for her.” She felt tears welling in her eyes and blinked them back.

“But?” Tony massaged her shoulders, easing some of her tension.

“I don’t think Mac ever intended for any of this to happen, do you?”

“No.” Tony studied the picture. “If Mac had been standing in a different place or had turned his back when this picture was taken, Patti might still be alive and he wouldn’t be in jail. When you think about the power of coincidence, it’s amazing.”

“True.” She firmly believed in coincidence.

“If he had called me when it happened, it would probably have been ruled manslaughter, not murder. When he tried to cover it up, he made the situation much worse.” With a frown, he lifted the kitten off his lap and stood. “I guess it’s time for me to go back to the salt mines.”

Theo laughed. He looked like Jamie when she told him to clean up his toys. “Putting off the paperwork won’t make it get done faster.”

“I know. I just thought you’d want to know what we learned.”

Theo realized she hadn’t told him about her discovery of the lawn ornament stash. “Speaking of learning, I know who has the lawn ornaments. I want Caro’s flowerpot back in her yard before she gets home. And I want blooming flowers planted in it.”

“You don’t.” Tony stared into her eyes. His widened. “Yes, you do.”

Tony returned to his office, feeling better. In fact, he felt like jumping in the air and clicking his heels together.

Ruth Ann sat on the floor next to her desk, playing with the toddler they’d taken from Nelson’s cabin. She pursed her lips and puffed air into his face. Each time she did it, he laughed so hard he’d fall over if she didn’t support him with both hands.

“The Feds and his mom and dad are on their way.”

“I thought they’d fly in last night.” Tony knew the baby matched the photograph on the bulletin, right down to the tiny scar on his eyebrow. “Footprints check out?”

“Yes.” Ruth Ann puffed in the baby’s face again. “There was a huge storm system that kept them grounded in Charlotte. They’ll be here any second.”

Tony felt his last knot of tension dissolve. “He’s okay?”

“Absolutely.” She nodded toward the front doors and spoke to the baby. “Here’s your mommy and daddy.”

Tony turned to see Wade holding the door for a dazed, but ecstatic, young couple and a pair of smiling FBI agents. Life was good. He loved his job.

The baby teetered, roaring with laughter. His tiny hands opened like starfish as he reached for his parents.

“It should have worked.” Kenny Baines stared into Tony’s left shoulder. “She ruined it when she called you.”

“Who ruined what?” Tony stared at Kenny. Even if he was strong as steel, it didn’t seem possible that the small man could filch such oversized yard art.

“Blossom.” The little man shrugged, the sadness in his eyes gave him away.

Tony saw nothing but heartbreak reflected in them. “You took Blossom’s donkey cart in hopes of gaining her attention and affection.” Kenny’s cheeks darkened under Tony’s stunned gaze.

“It never crossed my mind she’d call you.” His eyes moved away. “I figured I’d be able to find the thing and she would be all happy and grateful and maybe she’d go to the movies or somethin’ with me.”

Tony’s eyes widened as Kenny’s plan became clear. He agreed. It should have been simple and straightforward. Kenny would “find” the donkey and cart and return it to her. Blossom would be so overcome by gratitude that she would fling her arms around him and clutch him to her ample bosom. He’d be a hero. Instead, Blossom was upset and so were many other people.

“You didn’t stop with her ornament.”

Slumped into his chair, Kenny stared at his hands. “It became a game, I guess. Sitting home alone without the girls was making me crazy, and I knew it was wrong and yet, it
was
kinda fun.”

Tony watched his misery with some sympathy. Kenny Baines had moved to Silersville about five years earlier with his wife, Yvonne, and twin daughters. The girls, Stephanie and Kimberly, were the stars in Kenny’s heaven. When Yvonne fell for a backup singer in some hopeful new country group and moved to Nashville, Kenny had been granted custody. Kenny and the girls made a nice family.

The only catch, and Kenny’s downfall, was sending the girls to Nashville for a week each month to stay with their mother. Tony guessed that, lonely and bored, Kenny developed a crush on Blossom.

“The girls aren’t in Nashville.” Tony leaned forward. “Kimberly has been at all the games and practices.”

Kenny nodded. “They’re staying with Yvonne at her parents’ house for a change. Y’know, so they don’t miss anything.”

Tony relaxed in his chair. Kenny looked miserable. It was difficult to believe the small man was strong enough to heft the yard art into his pickup. If Tony hadn’t seen Kenny’s abilities on the job site, he’d never believe it. He didn’t look like a body builder, and he sure didn’t look like tensile steel.

“How’d you get those things moved? You picked the biggest ones.”

Kenny’s embarrassment seemed to ease. “Haven’t you seen my pickup? I’m a part-time bricklayer.”

Tony suddenly recalled seeing a hydraulic lift on the tailgate of Kenny’s pickup truck and laughed. Damn, he missed that one.

“My turn,” said Kenny. “If it wasn’t the pickup, how’d you figure it was me?”

“Theo saw your backyard from the mountain.” Tony smiled, recalling Theo’s giggle. “She said there was a lot of bright paint to catch the eye.”

Kenny nodded. “Do you think Blossom will ever forgive me?”

What Blossom thought about Kenny, only Blossom knew. It sure wouldn’t hurt Tony’s feelings if she focused her affections on Kenny. Maybe, he thought, his office could work out a deal with the citizens whose ornaments had been moved. After all, the yard art had been safely stored and could be returned, undamaged, to the rightful owners.

If he played his cards right, Tony thought he could get Blossom off his neck, get the ornament owners off his neck, and maybe get a little community service work done. All in all, this might turn out to be a blessing. Kenny had done him and the county a favor.

After sending Kenny home, Tony propped his feet on his desk and patted his stomach. He’d miss the extra pies, of course. Even as his eyes drifted shut, he visualized the piles of brush and garbage Kenny would get to haul away.

Who knew? Maybe Blossom would bake Kenny a pie.

Barbara Graham
began making up stories in the third grade and immediately quit learning to multiply and divide. Her motto is “every story needs a dead body and every bed needs a quilt.” Most of her early stories involved her saving the world. Fortunately for all involved, she and her heroic skills have never been put to the test.

A prize-winning quilter and partner in a pattern company, her quilts have been in calendars and magazines, as well as displayed in shows.

Married to a man who can do math in his head and the mother of two perfect sons, she lives in Wyoming.

Visit her at
www.bgmysteries.com
.