Randolph fiddled with the radio until he located the local all-news station. “Maybe we can catch Talbot’s press statement.”
“I’d rather listen to oldies music than that windbag,” Rhetta said, closing her eyes and savoring the cool air.
“I had always had respect for Reasoner, but I’ve changed my mind. You have me convinced. I’m not going to support him this next election. He didn’t bother to come in and talk to you and me himself while we were there. Just hid away in his office, and let Adams do all the interviewing. He’s a real rodent.”
Rhetta cut her gaze across to Randolph. He never said ugly things about people. That Sheriff Talbot Reasoner hadn’t troubled himself to speak to his supposed friend must have spoken volumes to Randolph.
Just as they pulled off on the gravel county road that led home, the station broke in with a live news feed to present the press conference. Talbot Reasoner cleared his throat, then tapped the mike. “Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. First, off let me tell y’all, this won’t be a question-and-answer session.” A collective groan vibrated from the reporters in attendance. Following the murmuring, paper rattled loudly into the mike, probably the sheriff scanning his notes. Reasoner continued. “As you know, the body of Jeremy Spears was found early this morning in a barn on property he was developing into a subdivision in Gordonville. The murder weapon has been identified, and we now have a suspect in custody.” The crowd murmured.
Randolph and Rhetta stared at each other.
“We’ve arrested Mr. Spears’ girlfriend, Victoria Lane. That’s all for now.” The clamor that followed was interrupted by the studio feed “Kool Kape Radio will bring you the latest developments as they break,” warbled a deep-voiced announcer.
Randolph punched the radio off, and shook his head. “I hope she knows a good lawyer.”
Chapter 25
“This is just plain crazy. Nuts!” Rhetta fumed as she slammed the newspaper on to Woody’s desk the next morning.
He rolled his chair backward and raised his arms in surrender. “I didn’t write the story, Rhetta. I just brought in the paper.”
She paced between their desks. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. It’s not even the newspaper’s fault for reporting the news. And it seems to be very big news.” She pointed to the headline splashed in bold type across the top third of the paper: GIRLFRIEND ARRESTED IN LOCAL DEVELOPER’S DEATH.
“There is absolutely no way on God’s green earth that Ricky could have hurt Jeremy or anybody else. She’s the softhearted one who rescues animals. Last year, she made a pet out of a baby ’possum she found, remember?”
Woody only nodded.
Rhetta plopped down at her desk, and blew across the top of her coffee. Randolph had dropped her off earlier, so that she had plenty of time to get the coffee made and all the computers started before Woody came in, local paper tucked under his arm. When he mentioned the arrest was all over the front page, she’d insisted on reading the story. She hadn’t bought the St. Louis paper. She didn’t want to know if the news had reached the Big Lou.
“Oh, no!” Rhetta said, leaping up.
Woody’s head swiveled around. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Speaking of rescued animals, Ricky has two house dogs. I don’t know who she’d get to go over there to let them out. She always calls me to check on her dogs if she’s going to be gone overnight. She didn’t call me, and I forgot all about Taffy and Tater.” Rhetta grabbed her purse, and searched for her keys. Unable to find them, she turned her purse over and dumped everything on to her desk. A tube of lipstick rolled off the desk to the floor. “I can’t find my keys. Where are they?” she groused as she riffled through the checkbook, her wallet, her set of office keys, and miscellaneous papers before stuffing everything back into her bag. Still no keys. She looked around frantically.
“Uh, Rhetta? Did you look in your desk drawer? You asked me to lock up your car and leave the keys in your desk.”
She yanked open the top middle drawer. “I found them.” It was too late to avoid feeling really foolish. As soon as he told her, she remembered texting him.
“I’m going out there and take care of her dogs. I’ll be back soon.”
LuEllen arrived just as Rhetta was sailing out the door. She rested her hand on Rhetta’s arm, stopping her boss. “Wait, Rhetta. Are you leaving again? You know you have two closings today, don’t you? Mrs. Gentry really didn’t like talking to me yesterday about her loan. She wants you to be at her closing.” For emphasis, LuEllen tapped on the wall calendar, which had two notations circled on it. Rhetta glanced at her watch. “What time are they scheduled?”
“Mrs. Gentry’s reverse mortgage closing is first, at 10:30. The Rigdon purchase isn’t until 2:00.” She sat at her desk, tucked a tiny purse away and brought her monitor to life. Rhetta had often asked herself how the woman could get by with a purse that was smaller than Rhetta’s wallet.
“You’re right, LuEllen. I need to be here with Mrs. Gentry. The dear old soul is frightened enough of all this paperwork. I’ll go out to Ricky’s later.” Rhetta returned to her desk, stuffed her purse into the bottom drawer and adjusted the height of her chair, a daily requirement. Every night the chair sank all the way down which necessitated Rhetta adjusting it upward every morning. When she forgot, her chin would nearly touch her desktop.
Woody stood and rolled his chair to park it in front of his desk, then headed for the front door. “I don’t have any appointments until late this afternoon. I’ll go out there for you and let the dogs out and feed them, too.”
“Thanks, Woody, you’re a doll. Her keys are under a grey faux rock by the back door. The rock has the words “The Rock” painted on it. Don’t let them out without their leashes. They don’t know you and may try to run off. Their kibbles are in the pantry on the back porch.”
“Got it,” he said, digging in his pants pockets for his car keys.
“And don’t forget to give them fresh water,” Rhetta shouted as he was leaving.
He turned around and sighed. “Really? I hadn’t thought of that.”
She waved him off. “I’m sorry. Of course, you know that.” He merely nodded as he closed the door. Woody was the proud daddy of Lela and Lottie, two gorgeous Boxers that he’d adopted. He and Jenn were childless, like Rhetta and Randolph. Woody’s dogs were his kids. Rhetta and Randolph’s fur babies were feline.
* * *
Woody returned just as Mrs. Gentry was getting ready to leave following her closing. He held the door for her. She paused to give Rhetta a hug. “Thank you, Rhetta. Thanks to you, I can keep my home.”
“Thanks for bringing us brownies. I’ll be by soon for some more, Mrs. Gentry,” Rhetta said, and glanced at the plate of chocolate brownies beckoning to her from the closing table. She mentally calculated how many calories were in each one. Her mouth watered.
Once the door was closed, she turned to Woody. “Did you run into any trouble at Ricky’s?”
“No.” Woody rolled his desk chair out and sat. He touched the mouse and his computer sprang to life.
“Just, ‘no?’ Are the dogs okay?”
“The dogs are just fine.” He began tapping on his keyboard.
Rhetta looked at LuEllen, who shrugged.
“So, what did happen out there?” Rhetta cocked her head and watched Woody.
He turned slowly. “What makes you think anything happened?”
“Because you said you didn’t run into any trouble out there, but you were gone a long time. What happened?”
He threw up his hands. “Taffy escaped. Took me forty-five minutes to round him up.”
“I told you not to take them out without a leash.”
“The silly mutt rocketed through my legs the instant I opened the door.” Woody’s gaze returned to his monitor. “But I lured him back with the promise of my hamburger.”
Rhetta grinned. “Did you have to give him your lunch?”
“Yes.” He igno
red Rhetta’s laughter. “While I was there a delivery truck came and I signed for a motor the driver wanted to unload.” He obviously wanted to change the subject away from his dog adventure.
Rhetta groaned. “I think that’s the LS1 for my now-police-evidence-Z28. Did you see the waybill?”
“Nope. The driver wanted to take it into the shop where it would be safe. I finally found the shop keys and let him leave it inside. It took a while for him to get it off the back of the truck. At that, he grumbled the whole time for me to help him.”
Woody spun his chair around. “By the way, didn’t Ricky sell her car? I saw her Trans Am was still in the shop, all polished up. There was another car there, too. I was checking out where to leave the motor and saw it in the paint booth. Looks like another second generation Camaro.”
“Are you sure about the other car being a Camaro?”
“Pretty sure. You and Ricky have educated me on the body style of those cars.” He pulled up a web page devoted to Camaros between 1970 and 1981. “Yep, it looks like this.” He swiveled the monitor so she could see what he pointed at. It was a 1979 Camaro. “Wasn’t Cami a ’79 Camaro?”
Chapter 26
Rhetta turned off the office computers and set the phones to the answering machine. She had wondered all afternoon about the other Camaro that Ricky had in her shop. Maybe she was working on one for a customer, even though she hadn’t told Rhetta. That puzzled her, though, because Ricky knew that Rhetta enjoyed watching the transformation of these cars under Ricky’s superb craftsmanship. Ricky usually gushed about her projects.
As Rhetta turned off the last of the office lights and reached for the keys to lock up, her cell phone jingled from the innards of her purse. She managed to find it before it quit ringing. She didn’t recognize the local number.
“Rhetta, it’s Ricky. Can you come and get me? They let me go. I’m using the sheriff’s office phone.” That explained the unfamiliar number.
“Sure, I’ll be right there. But how…? Just tell me you didn’t grab a deputy’s gun, hold him hostage and threaten his life to get out. Did you?”
“No, of course not.” Ricky chuckled, but with little mirth in her voice. “The prosecutor and the sheriff got into quite an argument, and the bottom line was the prosecutor said there wasn’t enough evidence to arrest me in the first place, so I’ve been downgraded from a suspect to a person of interest.”
“That’s great, Ricky. Of course, there’s no evidence. You didn’t do it. I’m on my way.”
Rhetta called Randolph.
“That doesn’t surprise me one bit,” Randolph said. “Sheriff Reasoner has been called Sheriff Unreasonable by several of the assistant prosecutors. He’s got a history of jumping the gun. He’s ruined many cases for Prosecutor Fox. Reasoner wants to call the shots about charges, and Sylvio Fox doesn’t want him interfering. It’s a mess.”
“Great. Just ducky. A turf war. Does that mean if Reasoner solves these murders that Fox won’t prosecute?”
Randolph laughed. “They don’t call our prosecutor Sly Fox, for nothing.”
Rhetta shivered at the thought that a killer was still on the loose. And that someone might be building a case against Ricky.
“I’ll be home after I drop Ricky off. Can you get the grill ready? I thawed some steaks that need to be cooked tonight.”
“Yep. And I’ll feed the cats, too. Love you. And, Rhetta?”
“Yes, Sweets, I’ll be careful.”
* * *
Ricky appeared to have aged ten years since Rhetta last saw her. Her normally vibrant red hair hung limply in a ponytail held by a brown rubber band, probably one she’d pilfered from a county desk. Her jeans fit loosely, as though she’d lost weight, even though she’d only spent a day in lockup. Ricky, sitting in the sheriff’s department waiting room with her hands folded primly on her lap, clutching her purse, gazed up at Rhetta with puffy eyes in a tear-stained face.
Once safely belted in, Rhetta asked, “Why don’t you come to the house and have supper with us?”
Ricky shook her head. “No, but thanks, anyway. I need to go home and hug Taffy and Tater. I missed them so much.” Rhetta told her about Woody tending to the dogs. She didn’t tell her about Taffy’s escape.
“Woody said he signed for a motor delivered to you. I told him that was the one you wanted to send back. I’ll pay you for it, and we can keep it for whenever my Z28 gets released from the evidence garage.”
“Okay, no problem.” Ricky stared out the side window. Rhetta glanced at her friend as she cranked up the air. She spotted fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.
They rode in silence the rest of the way. Whenever Ricky wanted to talk, she would. Rhetta wouldn’t push her.
After pulling into the driveway and parking, Rhetta walked Ricky to the back door, and waited as Ricky found her key and unlocked it.
As Ricky pushed the door open, Rhetta said, “Keep all your doors and windows locked. There’s a murderer still on the loose.” With that, Ricky turned and fell into Rhetta’s arms, sobbing openly.
She pulled away and rubbed the tears from her cheeks. “I didn’t kill him Rhetta. But, I’ll tell you the truth. Saturday night I was so mad at him, I wanted to.”
Chapter 27
They sat at Ricky’s antique round kitchen table, Taffy and Tater each vying for their mom’s attention by jumping up on her lap. Ricky hugged them both, and set them down. Taffy, a terrier mix, immediately jumped back into Ricky’s lap, while Tater, a Labrador-Golden Retriever cross, lay by her feet, tail thumping on the floor.
“Can you get us a soda?” Ricky asked, hugging and petting her fur babies.
Rhetta located two cans of Diet Coke in the refrigerator and returned with two glasses of ice. She set a coaster under each glass.
“Do you want to tell me why you were so mad at Jeremy?” Rhetta asked as she popped the tab on their sodas and poured for each of them.
Ricky sighed and stared at the beverage as it crackled over the crushed ice.
“I caught him with another woman in his apartment.” Ricky finally said, as she circled the rim of her glass with her thumb.
Rhetta flashed back to her experience with Jeremy on Saturday. She hadn’t yet told Ricky about it. Maybe if she would have, Jeremy might not have been at the barn, and gotten himself killed. Had he arranged to meet someone out there? This newly discovered other woman?
Rhetta sipped, waiting for Ricky to go on. She’d gauge when would be the best time to tell her.
New tears began dribbling down Ricky’s cheeks. She sniffled, then reached across the table for a tissue and blew her nose. “I guess I didn’t know what he was really like. I went looking for him at the party, and when I couldn’t find him, I jogged upstairs to his apartment. I walked in on him and some bimbo. He yelled at me, and called me everything but free and over twenty-one, as though it was my fault he was cheating on me. I slammed the door after yelling something like I hoped he rotted in hell, or some such, and then I left the party.”
“Do you know who he was with?” Rhetta asked, thinking that this woman could be a suspect in Jeremy’s murder.
“I didn’t recognize her big white behind,” Ricky smiled.
Rhetta patted her arm. “I know this is all terrible about Jeremy getting killed, but you really are better off without him.”
“What’s really terrible is that I’m a suspect.” Glass in hand, she slid to the floor and cradled the dogs, hugging their necks and enveloping them into her lap.
“Did you tell the detective about this white-butted woman?”
“I did. But, frankly, I bet we never find out who she is. Most, if not all the women at the party, were there with their husbands or at least with their significant others. I’m sure none will want to come forward.” Ricky stood, and the dogs wound through her legs.
“Well, I’ll come forward,” Rhetta said.
“What?” Ricky nearly dropped her glass. “You?”
“Wait,
no, I wasn’t the white-cheeked woman, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Rhetta twisted around to examine her rear. “My butt’s not big! What I mean is that Jeremy made a move on me, too, but I kneed him in the groin.” Rhetta gathered up the two glasses and headed for the sink. “I’m surprised he wanted to make a move on a woman so soon after our confrontation.”
Ricky burst out laughing. “I can just imagine how that went.” Ricky dropped into the chair, snatched a tissue and dabbed her eyes. This time, her tears weren’t from sadness. “You were right, Rhetta, he’s nothing but a big jerk. Or was….Who could have killed him, and why?”
“That, my dear friend, is the million dollar question.” Rhetta headed for the door. “If you’re not going to come home with me, I’d better take off. Randolph was getting the grill started.”
She started out the door but turned back to Ricky. “By the way, Woody said you have another Camaro in the shop. Is that a new project?”
“Woody talks too much,” Ricky said under her breath. Rhetta, however, had excellent hearing. “No,” Ricky continued. “that’s just an old Camaro I had in the other shed that I’m using for parts.” Ricky cleared her throat, and waved dismissively. “Now that your Z28 may be held captive for a while, I want to strip this car and sell the parts. If I can do that, and sell my Trans Am, I may be able to pay for a lawyer.” Ricky sighed. “There goes my dream of a restored ’65 Mustang. I may need the money for my legal defense fund, instead of a hot car.”
“Now that you mention your Trans Am, let me see that so-called check you got for payment.” In all that had happened, Rhetta forgot her promise to check out the suspicious check.
Ricky pulled open the top middle drawer of an antique oak sideboard, withdrew the Fed Ex envelope and handed it to Rhetta. “Do you really think this is a scam? “ Ricky looked wistfully at the envelope as Rhetta took it.
“Yes, and we may have to get to the bottom of this. I’ll have Woody help. He’s a computer whiz.”
Ricky smiled. “That’s why you call him Woody-the-Answer-Man, right?”