Something Borrowed, Something Bleu (18 page)

_____

Schumaker found Ray Dunner’s visit interesting, but it turned out there wasn’t much he could do to help us. Dunner hadn’t actually done anything except ask to see a letter, and his threat to me had been so subtle that he could easily deny it.
“You be careful, Sophie Mae,” Schumaker warned. “He has a mean streak and a history of violence. Ran off three wives over the years and is known for getting into fights at some of the local drinking establishments.”
“Fights with people like Joe Bines?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“A few times,” Schumaker acquiesced. One visit from Ray Dunner had sweetened the inspector’s attitude toward me. “Dunner had a thing for Tabitha for a lot of years. Didn’t like that she married Joe.”
Oh, brother. Why wasn’t Ray in custody?
“Sounds like motive to me,” I said.
Schumaker sighed. “There’s a lot of that around. We’re still sorting it all out. Just be careful, okay?”
I assured him that I would and hung up the phone feeling less safe than I had before making the call. That creep had been alone with Erin. Down in the basement, Kelly hadn’t realized she’d let him in. I’d asked her about that, too. We didn’t encourage her to be afraid of people, but she wasn’t stupid and she knew how to deal with strangers. When Dunner had knocked, she’d opened the interior door and left the screen door closed. He’d opened it and let himself in. Meghan tried to hide her distress when Erin told us that, but I saw her hand shaking as she reached for her glass of tea.
The law couldn’t protect us, but Kelly had already intimidated him once and would have no qualms about getting physical if he had to. Plus, there were six of us in the house. We’d lock up carefully tonight, including the windows my parents usually left open in the summer. I dreaded telling them what happened, but they needed to know, and maybe they’d have some ideas.
In the meantime, there was another person Ray Dunner had responded to: his father. Ratting him out to his dad might not work, but it seemed worth a try.
Ogden Dunner had an unlisted number, and I couldn’t find his address online. I didn’t want to run into his son again, but Ray hadn’t been dressed for work. My bet was that Ogden was holding down the fort at the new-and-used luxury car lot.
But when I told Meghan what I wanted to do, she didn’t like my idea one little bit. “No. Absolutely not.”
Dad came in then, all sweaty and pumped up from riding home from the university on his bike. I related what happened all over again.
He reacted with more speculation than fear. “So Ray Dunner thinks Bobby Lee wrote something about him eighteen years ago. Which means Bobby Lee knew something about him that he doesn’t want advertised.”
“Or he
thinks
Bobby Lee knew something. Either way, it fits the Dunners being blackmailed.”
“Ray sounds desperate. That makes him dangerous,” Dad said.
“I want to go talk to Ogden, see if he can call his son off.”
“He could be just as dangerous. After all, he was the one who signed over the family land to Joe Bines, not Ray.”
“Will you come with me?” I asked.
“I insist on it. Let me get changed.” My father, the former investigative reporter, looked downright excited to get in on some of the action.
Meghan gave in since I wasn’t going by myself—and she couldn’t very well tell Dad what to do. Still, her face was pinched with worry when we left.

Dad drove. We parked
on the street, and he walked onto the lot while I stayed in the car and watched. If I was wrong and Ray Dunner was manning the store, he didn’t know what my father looked like.
But it was Ogden who opened the office door and descended the rickety steps. He wore a dark suit utterly inappropriate for the weather. It made him look like an undertaker. I got out of the car and joined them.
He smiled when he saw me approaching. Close up I could see the dark half-moons under his eyes like twin bruises. I wondered when he’d last slept. If anything, the gauntness of his face had increased since Barr and I had first seen him, and his skin had a gray tinge to it.
Oh, but those dark eyes still crinkled with benevolence, and his voice betrayed nothing. “Sophie Mae, how nice to see you again. Have you come to test drive that Jaguar?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m sorry, but we’re not here about a car.”
“Oh. So you’re with this gentleman?”
“This is my father, Calvin Watson.”
“I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, sir.”
“Likewise,” Dad said.
Ogden regarded me. “So if this isn’t about a car, how can I help you?”
I glanced at Dad then back at Ogden. Took a deep breath. “I need you to talk to your son.”
I didn’t think the older man could look more tired, but I was wrong. He slowly raised his eyebrows in question.
“He came by my parents’ house today. My housemate’s eleven-year-old daughter was there alone, and he opened the door and walked right in.” Okay, so it was a slight exaggeration. Sue me.
“He didn’t hurt her.” But the statement sounded like a question. Not encouraging to know Ogden thought his son capable of hurting a little girl.
“No, thank goodness, but she didn’t invite him in, either. He wanted to talk to me.” I stopped. How much should I tell this man? Ogden was, after all, up to his bushy eyebrows in whatever was going on. “Mr. Dunner, Ray wanted to know the contents of a letter my brother wrote before he died. He was very insistent, threatening even. He frightened me.”
His shoulders slumped under an unseen burden.
I continued. “Now, why does your son think my brother knew something incriminating about him?”
His large hands came up to rub his face. “I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to him.”
“Thank you.”
The hands fell to his side. “My son’s not a bad man.”
Neither Dad nor I responded.
“He’s had some problems, I admit. His mother left us. I never gave up on him, though. Never.”
“I understand,” my father said.
I did, too. And I was positive this man was telling the truth. He’d quite possibly saved his son’s life. But at what cost to himself?
“I just don’t want him to come back,” I said. “Will you please assure him that Bobby Lee said nothing, absolutely nothing, about him in that letter?”
Relief washed across Ogden’s face, and I realized he’d been worried about what might be in the letter, too. I was pretty sure this was the first he’d heard of it.
“I’ll tell him. You don’t have to worry,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said again. “Mr. Dunner?”
“Yes?”
“What happened that night at Rancho Sueńo? The night Gwen Miller died?”
His face continued to emanate that intense melancholy. “A girl died. And a dream was lost.”
I’d been hoping for a little less drama and a little more detail.
Dad said, “A boy died, too.”
Ogden nodded. “It’s a terrible thing to lose a son. I’m so very sorry.”
Sorry sympathy? Or sorry apology?
But we never got a chance to ask because Mr. Dunner said, “I’ll call Ray now,” and went up the stairs and into the office, leaving us alone in the car lot.
He moved like he was a hundred years old.
A few minutes later, we were back in the car. Dad sat behind the steering wheel without turning on the ignition. Staring at the Auto Sales office door.
“Do you think I should have asked him more questions while I had the chance?” I asked.
He shook his head. “He wouldn’t have told you anything else. But I can tell you one thing: whatever happened that night has stayed with him like a waking nightmare all these years, and yet he manages to still care about other people. That’s a rare gift.”
“Or a curse,” I said.

_____

Meghan was determined to give Dad and Anna Belle a night off from the kitchen and had taken over the dinner preparations. When we entered the house the scents of sage and fried onions greeted us. We hurried to join the others in the kitchen.
Anna Belle had found the jasmine body butter I’d left for her, and the heavy floral scent surrounded her like a cloud. The smell reminded me of my friend Tootie Hanover, Erin’s great-grandmother, who wore jasmine every day, though on a much lighter scale.
“How does your skin feel?” I asked her.
“Like velvet,” she said with a smile. “Thank you.”
Kelly and Meghan had filled her in on Ray Dunner’s visit when she got home, and now she demanded to know how Ogden reacted to his son’s threats.
“He said he’d talk to him,” Dad said.
“And if he does I think Ray will listen,” I said. “When Barr and I were at the car lot yesterday, Ray backed off when his father came in.” That reminded me of how much I missed Barr. He’d be getting close to the Ambrose family’s Horseshoe Ranch by now, if he hadn’t already arrived.
My mother snorted. “But then he came over here and scared you and Erin, didn’t he?”
I grimaced. “True. Well, if you have any other ideas, please share. The sheriff’s investigator didn’t seem to think they could do anything based on what Dunner did.”
“I’m not surprised.” She huffed her disgust at the vagaries of law enforcement.
Good thing I hadn’t told them that Jaikes had braced me about the lip balm they found under Joe’s body.
Ick.
“So what are you making?” Dad couldn’t help but ask Meghan.
“Nothing all that special. My summer version of chicken pot pie and a big salad. I took a look at the garden to see what I could use from it. You’ve got a wonderful selection of goodies out there. Then I saw the sage, and that made the decision for me. I only needed to buy the chicken and puff pastry.”
Yum. Meghan made the best pot pie ever. In the winter it was surrounded by a savory, flaky crust made with home-rendered lard, but in hotter weather she simply topped it with store-bought puff pastry and added a few more vegetables to lighten it up.
“Dessert?” I asked. We didn’t often eat dessert at home, but we sure had while on vacation.
Vacation
. Ha!
Anyway, I hoped it wouldn’t be too heavy. My walk earlier had reminded me I had a wedding coming up, and I needed to watch my waistline.
“Chocolate-dipped strawberries.”
“Perfect.” I could nibble on one, get a nice little dose of chocolate, and still feel relatively virtuous.
I checked my e-mail and voice-mail, and did a little work before dinner. Barr still hadn’t called, but he also hadn’t seen his family for a while. I understood. They had a lot to catch up on.
We were digging into the mounds of creamy chicken, carrots, onions, peas, zucchini, and new potatoes on our plates when the doorbell rang. I got up to answer it, swearing under my breath at people who dropped by during the dinner hour.
Just in case Ray Dunner had decided to grace us with his presence twice in one day, I flicked the shade to see who was on the front step.
Not Ray.
Ogden, still in his black suit and fidgeting with his tie.
Slowly, I went to the door and opened it. “Mr. Dunner.” I stepped out to the front step, reluctant to let him enter the house.
“Miss Watson.”
“Reynolds,” I said. “Ms. Reynolds.”
“Oh. Of course. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay.” I waited.
“Um, I was wondering whether I might be able to see that letter you were telling me about, the one your brother wrote to Tabitha Bines.”
I stared at him. Was he kidding?
“I might be able to help you,” he said.
“It was a love letter. That’s all.”
“That’s not exactly what Tabitha told my son.”
“So you talked to Ray. Is he going to leave us alone?” My tone was flat.
“Yes. I promise. But I promised him I’d look at the letter if you’d let me. To assure him he doesn’t have anything to worry about.”
You can’t promise someone else will behave, but I’d take what I could get.
“Worry about? Like what?” I asked. “What is he so afraid of?”
Ogden shook his head. “Nothing real. Believe me.”
Right. Now Ray was paranoid. Good Lord. Why couldn’t anyone just give me a straight answer?
Behind me, Anna Belle’s voice lilted. “Hello. Won’t you please come in?”
Surprised, I turned around. She ignored me and held the door open to Ogden Dunner. He walked past me into the great room. I followed, my eyes drifting up to the open beam above. What was she thinking?
“Wait here,” she said, and disappeared into her den. When she returned she held Bobby Lee’s letter. The real one, not the copy I’d been carrying around in my tote bag. Everyone had drifted in from the kitchen and stood around awkwardly. Ogden cleared his throat and darted a glance at me. I felt my nostrils flare.
He reached out and took the letter. Unfolded it and began to read.
As he took in the contents his shoulders began to relax. When he raised his head, he was the picture of bewilderment. Intense disappointment clogged my throat when I saw that, and I realized I’d thought maybe he really could help, despite my reluctance to show him the letter at all.
“I have no idea what this means,” he said.
Anna Belle sighed. My father went and put his arm around her. Meghan sat down on the step and Erin perched behind her. Kelly continued to lean against the wall.
“I hadn’t seen Bobby Lee for months before he died. I thought …” He looked down and closed his eyes briefly, then looked back up. “I thought perhaps I could put your minds to rest. But I’m afraid I’m less than useless at clearing this up.”
“Tell me,” I said. “What did Tabby say my brother wrote?” Because if she had told the truth then there would have been no reason to get so upset. Or was there? I was so confused I was starting to wonder if I’d ever figure this thing out.
Ogden hesitated. “I’m afraid I don’t know. Whatever it was bothered him, but I believe I was able to put his mind to rest.” He handed the letter back to my mother. “I’m sorry to interrupt your evening. I only wanted to help.”
“We appreciate that,” Anna Belle said in her most gracious tone.
I walked Ogden out. He said goodnight in an apologetic tone and got in the MG I’d seen at the lot, the one painted British racing green.
Back inside the house no one had moved.
“C’mon people,” Anna Belle said with false enthusiasm. “We were in the middle of a perfectly fabulous meal.”
We trudged back to the table and sat down.
“Dad, do you believe he doesn’t know what that letter is all about?”
My father shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense to trust him. Something is going on, or was going on, and he’s involved. I certainly don’t think he wanted to see that letter just to help us. If it incriminated his son he would have kept that to himself.”
I swallowed a bite of chicken. Poor Meghan, having her wonderful dinner grow cold on the table. “I agree. But he really did seem clueless when he read it. Anna Belle, I was surprised you showed it to him. You sounded so contemptuous when you first spoke of him.”
“Contemptuous? Yes, perhaps. I didn’t like what he did out there at the Rancho Sueńo. Or at least what I thought he was doing. Perhaps I was wrong.”
Everyone stopped eating and stared at her.
“What? I can’t admit I was wrong? Maybe the place wasn’t so bad. Calvin told me about what that reporter had in her notes, and it sounds like Mr. Dunner was really trying to help people. I still don’t like forcing religion on kids when they’re down on their luck.” For someone who was admitting she might be wrong, she sure sounded defensive.
But still: Wow.
“The point is,” Anna Belle continued. “I wanted to know if he could explain Bobby Lee’s letter.” I could tell she felt the same disappointment I did.
I picked my fork back up. “Well, I’m going out to the dairy in the morning to talk to Tabby. She sicced Ray Dunner on us, and I want to know whether it was accidental or intentional. And if it was the latter, I damn well want to know why.”
Not only that, but Tabby seemed to be the only one with the answers to my questions—had been from the very beginning. Tomorrow I’d go at her with a little more ammunition than I’d had before—like the quit claim deed and the information I’d gathered from Carrie Romain’s notes.
“Oh, that won’t work,” Anna Belle said. “Not in the morning. I’ve made an appointment at Ginger’s Bridal downtown. I’m hoping you’ll see something you like and we can get started with a fitting.”
Across from me, Meghan ducked her head to hide her amusement.
“But—”
“You can go talk to Tabby afterward,” my mother said. “The answers she gives you won’t be any different in the afternoon.” And that was the end of that.
The chocolate-covered strawberries were huge. I ate five of them.