Something Borrowed, Something Bleu (17 page)

Apparently some secret cop
signal had flashed between them, because Barr assured me Schumaker would be at Zillah’s Café at noon. So we had over an hour to kill before lunch. I talked him into going to the health food store with me to pick up ingredients for the body butter I wanted to make later for my mother. Anna Belle had complained the evening before about how the high desert sun dried her skin, so I was going to whip up a concoction that would cure the problem in no time.
Supplied with olive oil, shea butter, and vitamin E oil, we found the café and parked. Inside, we discovered a large space which had been broken up into sections delineated by low glass walls and cushy furniture groupings. The seating areas were private enough that it was the perfect place to talk, and if the cooking smells were any indication, the place served a lot more than coffee. The large blackboard behind the register listed menu offerings.
I ordered coffee drinks and sandwiches at the counter while Barr commandeered an arrangement of chairs in a back corner. Meatball submarine for him, grilled Reuben for me. Schumaker came in as I loaded our lunches on a tray. Our eyes met and I indicated the back of the café with my chin. He saw Barr sitting there and nodded.
Soon we were all ensconced in the ultra-comfortable seating. Barr and I were munching and sipping away, but the sheriff’s investigator had only ordered coffee.
“Thanks for coming—” I began.
Schumaker cut me off. “Let me make something perfectly clear. You are still a person of interest in this case, Ms. Reynolds. I am not here to discuss any part of it with you. Nor am I here to buddy up with another cop. I met you here for two reasons: to clear up any misunderstanding about the sheriff’s daughter and the death at Rancho Sueńo, and to find out what the heck you were talking about regarding a quit claim deed.”
He sat back with an expectant air. Took a sip from his Grande whatever.
“I respect that,” Barr said.
I nodded. The last thing I wanted to do was compromise a murder investigation or get Schumaker in trouble. He’d been a pretty good guy considering how he’d met me.
“Okay. Who quit claimed what to whom?”
“Ogden Dunner quit claimed the Rancho Sueńo property to Joe Bines two years after Gwen Miller died,” I said.
His lips came together as if he was going to whistle, and he looked at Barr. “No kidding.”
“Two years after Gwen Miller and Bobby Lee died, and one year after he shut down Rancho Sueńo. Joe was only twenty years old.”
Schumaker had taken a small notebook out and began scribbling.
“Blackmail is a good motive for murder,” I said.
His glance was sharp. “Not, repeat not, discussing the Bines murder case with you.” But his eyes softened then, and he said, “However, I do indeed thank you for this information. Of course I knew the dairy was located on the old Dunner property, but didn’t know the particulars of the real estate transaction. This does change things a bit.”
I smiled. “It also links the current case, which we are definitely not discussing right now, to what happened eighteen years ago.”
“Perhaps,” he conceded.
“Is Ray Dunner a suspect?”
The inspector wagged his finger at me. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
Barr said. “Then there’s that other connection between the current sheriff and a certain girl who was present the night Gwen Miller died.”
“Who was Gwen Miller’s best friend, actually,” I said.
Schumaker frowned and swept the room with his gaze before answering. “Yes. About that. How did you find out she was there?”
“She talked to a reporter at the hospital that night. Carrie Romain. But only briefly, until Ray Dunner pulled her away, and then Krista’s whole story changed.”
He looked surprised. “Now where the heck did you come up with that crazy idea?”
“I saw the reporter’s notes. She never went to press with the alternate story—prevented by her editor, I’m guessing, since she was also asked not to reveal Krista’s name.”
“Krista was only seventeen.”
“We understand that,” Barr said. “But she was also the daughter of a sheriff’s deputy who had political goals. If she were anyone else her name would have been right there in print for the world to see. Now, what were you going to tell us that would clear up any ‘misunderstandings’ we might have about Krista’s involvement?”
I could feel the tension rolling off him as he spoke. I wondered whether Schumaker could, too.
“Krista Jaikes was only seventeen,” Schumaker said again. “But she knew what she had to do. She sat down and told sheriff’s investigators everything she knew.”
“How do you know that?”
“It’s all in the case file,” he said, impatient.
“How about the fact that Gwen Miller and Ray Dunner were more than friends. She was his girlfriend.”
He shook his head. “After you were asking about that incident in relation to your brother, I went over the file. There was nothing about those two being involved romantically.”
“Nonetheless,” I said.
“Miller’s parents would have known if they were dating, don’t you think?”
“Maybe. Believe me, if I were dating him, I wouldn’t have dared to tell my mother. She would’ve thrown a fit.” I couldn’t imagine dating a jerk like that anyway. Ray Dunner or Joe Bines. Now those two I would have expected to be best friends, not Joe and Bobby Lee. “But I would have told my best friend.”
The inspector shook his head. “Why would Krista Jaikes have lied?”
“Well, I talked to her on the phone, and even after all these years Ray Dunner’s name still terrifies her. And she actually hung up on me when I told her Joe had been murdered.”
“
You talked to her on the phone
? Are you crazy? What were you thinking? Sheriff Jaikes is going to come after you with both barrels if he finds out you’ve been harassing his daughter. Finding your lip balm under Bines’ body is nothing compared to that.”
I put down my half-finished sandwich and leaned forward. Barr touched my arm, but I shook him off. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I asked her some questions about my brother—there’s no crime in that. She’s a grown woman, and perfectly capable of deciding whether she wants to talk to me or not. By the way, she mostly chose ‘not.’ She certainly doesn’t need Daddy watching out for her anymore.” I pointed at him. “But you make a good point. I bet Deputy Jaikes would have done a lot to protect his little girl.”
Anger narrowed Schumaker’s eyes. He stood up. “This conversation is over. I understand that you’re trying to heal an old wound, but you’re going about it the wrong way. If and when you step on the sheriff’s toes too hard, don’t expect me to be on your side.” He slammed his coffee cup on the table and strode out the door.
I turned to Barr. “Oops.”
“No. Not oops. You gave him a lot of valid information, and while I understand his reticence to rat on his boss, I’m a little surprised he’s not more interested in following up on it.”
“He’ll follow up on the quit claim. I’m sure of it. For one thing, it’s relevant to the case he’s working now.”
“And that might lead to more information about the past,” Barr said. “At least I hope so. You’ve only got until day after tomorrow, and if you don’t figure out what happened with your brother I think your head might explode.”
“A slight exaggeration,” I said.
“Not by much.”

_____

Barr promised to call that evening, and left on the five-hour drive up to see his family. My parents were both at the university again, and who knew where Kelly, Meghan, and Erin had gone off to this time. It was a perfect opportunity to make the body butter for Anna Belle.
First I melted the olive oil and shea butter together over low heat. Once they were combined, I set the pan on the counter to cool and dug out Dad’s stick blender. I spent an hour catching up on e-mail, then checked the oils. They were cooling nicely, and barely starting to solidify. Upstairs, I dug through the essential oils I’d brought with me, deciding on the jasmine since Anna Belle had such a preference for loud floral scents. A call to check in with Cyan relieved my mind about Winding Road Bath Products, and by the time I was done, it was time to finish up the body butter.
I stirred in the vitamin E oil and essential oil first, then hit it with the stick blender. The result was a fluffy, emollient mixture the color of heavy cream with a slight greenish tinge from the extra virgin olive oil. The jasmine was a little overpowering, but Anna Belle would love it.
Time for a walk ‘n’ think. Cadyville was small enough that I walked many places, though I didn’t think about it as exercise. However, while everyone else had been riding their bikes and going on hikes, I’d been driving around Spring Creek. It made me feel sluggish; I needed some movement and some time outside to organize my thoughts.
The weather had cooled to the mid-eighties. At that temperature the dry air actually did make a difference, and I hardly broke a sweat as I power-walked down to the park. It wasn’t very large, taking up only one city block, and I circled it once, admiring the gardens and smiling at the children who played on the swings. Three college-age boys were throwing a Frisbee, and an elderly couple sat on a bench holding hands. I could only hope Barr and I were still so affectionate in our eighties.
As I continued, my steps fell into a steady rhythm, and soon my brain was clicking along at the same pace. Bobby Lee did something he was ashamed of. Took part in something he was ashamed of. A girl died after falling in a frozen river. Everyone said Bobby Lee wasn’t at the river that night. But something happened, something everyone was lying about. Had Gwen Miller’s plunge been more than an accident? What was Ogden Dunner’s role in the whole thing?
Speaking of more than an accident: Who the heck killed Joe Bines? He wasn’t the nicest guy in the world, and I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’d angered someone enough for them to kill him. Like maybe someone he blackmailed. Someone with a temper. Someone like Ray Dunner.
Or maybe Joe’s death was, if not random, at least unrelated to past events or my family. Still, if that were the case then the sheriff’s investigators would have discovered something by now, and I didn’t get the impression from Schumaker that they had.
Granted, he wasn’t one to share whether they had developed any leads or not, but I couldn’t shake the idea that whoever bashed Joe over the head did it because of something that happened eighteen years ago.
Which meant that I might be partly responsible.
Was that true? Really? Had I started something in motion by asking so many questions?
I sighed, and my steps slowed. I’d come as far as College Avenue, and the cars whizzed by. I walked south for a block and started toward the house again. My parents’ neighborhood hadn’t changed much over the years, though the trees in the front yards had certainly matured. Most of the homes had been built in the sixties and seventies, everyone took care of their yards, and all the streets were named after universities: Tulane, Harvard, Stanford, Duke, etc.
Joe and Tabby had blackmailed the Dunners. Or at least Joe had. I was sure of it. But they hadn’t been there the night Gwen Miller died. Or had they? Were they Tom and Jane Smith? Or, if the blackmail was unrelated to the girl in the river incident, then what the heck did they have on the Dunners that would be incriminating enough for Ogden to give up on his dream of Rancho Sueńo?
The walk helped me to organize my questions, but did little to provide answers. At least my blood circulated through my veins with more enthusiasm as I neared the house. That counted for something.
A large black pickup was parked on the street in front of the house, and I could see in through the screen door to the great room. Someone was home.
Then I saw the bumper sticker on the truck: Dunner & Son Auto Sales.

The hair on the
back of my neck and arms stood on end when I saw Ray Dunner sitting on my parents’ sofa in the great room, red soda can dangling from his fingers. He wore jeans and a T-shirt and thick work boots. As soon as I came in the door, Erin jumped up from where she’d been sitting in Dad’s big recliner and ran to me.
“This man is here to see you, Sophie Mae.”
Dunner glowered up at me from his seated position but didn’t say a word.
I put my hand on her shoulder. “Thanks, Bug. I’ll take it from here.”
She craned her head to look up at me. Her eyes were scared.
“Go outside and play,” I said.
Bless her heart, she didn’t take umbrage at being told to go out and play like a third grader, and she didn’t hesitate, either. I waited until I heard the sliding door in the kitchen open and close, then came farther into the room.
“Mr. Dunner,” I said. “What can I do for you?”
He swished the Coke in the bottom of the can and took a final swig. Leaned forward and put the empty can on the carpet, then made himself comfortable on the sofa again. He stretched out one booted foot and put it on the coffee table, the picture of insolence. As much as I wanted to knock it off, my hand remained steady at my side. He still hadn’t spoken.
I shrugged. “Well, if you just came over to drink my folks’ soda, I guess you’re done.”
He picked at his teeth with a thumbnail and regarded me with dark eyes. “Tabitha tells me you have a letter of hers.”
My stomach swooped. Trying to appear casual, I walked to the window and looked out. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.” Anna Belle and Dad were still at the university. Meghan and Kelly were gone.
Erin had been here alone with Ray Dunner.
His answer was a snort. “I want to see it.”
I faced him. “Sorry I can’t accommodate you.”
His foot came off the coffee table, and he leaned forward in one sudden, smooth motion. “It wasn’t a request.”
My heart was beating so hard I could hardly hear him. I didn’t say anything.
He stood up, and I jumped.
“I don’t have it!” I said.
“Sure you do.”
“I don’t! My mother put it in her safe deposit box.”
“That’s crap.” But he looked unsure.
I took a deep breath, encouraged by my own lie. “Tabby saw the letter. Didn’t she tell you what was in it?”
He scowled. “Give it to me.”
She hadn’t told him. Or she had told him, and he didn’t believe her.
“Seriously.” I forced myself to walk toward him. “I don’t have it. And I don’t know why you’d care about it anyway. It was just a love note from my brother to his girlfriend.”
A tiny flicker of relief crossed his face at that. I could tell he really wanted to believe the letter was innocent.
“What did you think it said?”
Now he looked scared. Oh, how I ached to ask him how Joe had blackmailed his father. But I didn’t dare, not all alone with him like this.
Keeping my voice calm and low, I said, “I really am sorry you came over here for nothing. I showed the letter to Tabby because it was written to her. Her mother sent it back before she saw it. But it’s the last thing Bobby Lee wrote, the last thing he said to anyone that we know of, and for that reason my mother values it more than anything.”
All of that was true, and it all pointed to the idea that Anna Belle would put the letter in her safe deposit box, without repeating the lie. Maybe that was the trick: Tell as much of the truth as possible when you’re lying.
But he took a determined step toward me. “You have a copy—Tabby told me. Show me that.”
I shook my head, mentally scrambling. Would it be so bad to show him, after all? I mean, it didn’t say anything incriminating, not really. Heck, maybe he could tell me what Bobby Lee was talking about. At least it would get him out of the house.
Oh, but I didn’t want to give Bobby Lee’s letter to this man, not when I didn’t know what it meant.
Anger flared behind Dunner’s eyes, and he took another step. I backed away. “You have it. Show me!”
“Hi, there,” Kelly said from the top of the steps.
Ray’s nostrils flared.
I spun around. “Hi!”
“I’m Kelly O’Connell.” He came down the three shallow steps and walked right up to our guest.
Dunner had been a salesman for a long time; clasping Kelly’s outstretched hand was automatic. “Ray Dunner.”
Kelly didn’t give any indication that he knew the name, just looked at him expectantly.
“Came to see Sophie Mae here.”
“Uh huh.” Didn’t give him an inch.
I tamped down a grin. “Good to see you, Ray. Sorry you have to go.” Opened the front door. Kelly took a step forward, crowding Dunner.
“Uh. Right. But I’ll check back with you about that thing we were talking about, Sophie Mae.”
“Oh, that’s okay. You needn’t bother.”
His parting look from the front sidewalk dripped with malice.
“Buh bye.” I closed the door and locked it. Turned to Kelly and gave him a humongous hug. “Oh, God, thank you. I was about to give him the letter just to get him out of here. Have you been home this whole time?”
“Yeah, I was down in the basement. Meghan ran to the grocery store to get a few things for dinner and left Erin with me. I didn’t even know Dunner was here until she came and told me.”
I looked up to see Erin standing in the kitchen. “You little scamp. You didn’t go outside at all, did you?”
She grinned and shook her head. “Opened and shut the door then tippy-toed down to the basement. That guy was spooky.”
I was glad to hear her internal alarm was in good working order.
“Took you long enough to get up here,” I said to Kelly, now that my heart rate had returned to normal.
“I came right up. Thought I’d let things play out a little, see what he said.”
“Nice. Well, I feel a lot better now, knowing you were here all along. It’s frustrating, though, because we didn’t learn anything except that he wants to read the letter.”
“Which means your friend Tabby didn’t share the contents with him.”
“I was thinking that. Why would she tell him about the letter at all? And once she did, why not tell him what was in it?”
He smiled. “Maybe you should ask her that.”
“Sure—and then she can give me more non-answers. It’s her specialty.”
Meghan came in then, calling for help with the groceries. Erin hopped to, but before Kelly went he put his hand on my arm. “You need to be careful. Dunner threatened to come back, you know.”
“I know. I’m calling Inspector Schumaker right now.”
“That’s a start.”