Chapter Twenty-Four
I'd just finished shaving my legs Friday morning when the doorbell rang. Zach had a little pot of African violets in one hand, two cups of coffee in a cardboard tray in the other, and a small bag in his teeth. He was drop-dead gorgeous in his Cincinnati Reds t-shirt and khaki shorts. He didn't look like he was going to kill me, so maybe he hadn't heard the on-air fiasco. Who said I wasn't an optimist?
I took the bag from his teeth and kissed him lightly. "What's this?" I asked, peeking into the bag. "Yum! Bagels and cream cheese."
"I stopped at the bagel shop on the way over. They're fresh from the oven." He handed me one of the cups of coffee. "I got some sort of gourmet coffee, too. French Vanilla, I think.
"Oh, here. I brought you these." He handed me the tiny pot of flowers and took the bag of bagels. "I hope you like violets."
I kissed him again. "I love them! Thank you."
"So," I said, once we were settled at the dining table with the bagels. "What did you do last night?" I crossed my fingers underneath the table. Toes, too.
"Not much. Watched re-runs."
Re-runs. Like on TV, as opposed to, say, the radio. I unclenched my fingers and thanked God for small favors. I sure hoped Zach wasn't the only person who had been watching re-runs. After we ate the bagels, I fed Delbert, stuck a towel, sunscreen, and swimsuit in my tote bag, and off we went.
It was a beautiful day. The sun was bright -- not a cloud in the sky -- and Thursday's rain had helped to ease the humidity. I leaned my head back against the head rest and almost dozed off within the first five minutes.
Zach patted my hand and smiled at me. "Tired?"
I stifled a yawn. "A little. I didn't get into bed until about one. And Mom made her usual 'let's wake Marty up' phone call at seven forty-five this morning."
"I like your Mom. She's really funny and nice. Your Dad's nice, too."
"I guess. It's just that they don't seem to realize that I'm a grown-up. She gave me hell because I didn't tell her about the wreck. Charli told her, of course. My sister has such a big mouth." I yawned.
"Why don't you go on to sleep. I'll wake you when we get there. It's about a forty-five minute drive."
"No, that’s okay. I'll be fine." Twenty-five minutes later, I woke up. Zach had just pulled over to the left lane to pass a tractor trailer.
"Hey there. You doing okay?" Zach asked.
"Terrific. Are we almost there?"
"Not much further. You want a soda? There's a bunch of different kinds in that cooler back there."
I waited until he'd passed the tractor-trailer. After he was back in the right hand lane, I unbuckled my seat belt and turned around so I could reach the cooler. I dug down into it and pulled up two icy-cold drinks. I handed one to Zach and shut the cooler lid.
"What are these?" I asked, holding up an envelope of pictures I'd found lying on the seat next to the cooler. "Can I look?" I turned around to the front and re-buckled my seat belt.
Zach glanced over at the envelope. "Sure. I think they're ones we took a couple of weeks ago at the regional softball tournament. I was messing around with my Dad’s old 35mm camera, which is why they’re prints. I just got them, haven't had a chance to look at them yet."
I pulled the pictures out of the envelope and leafed through them. The third one in the stack was a picture of Wart, wearing an umpire's uniform and a big grin.
My mind's eye played a cruel trick on me. Instead of the nice shot of Wart, I saw the swarming flies, the blood, the hand.
I sucked in my breath sharply.
Zach looked at the picture and almost swerved off the road. "Oh man! I didn't know that was in there. Beth must have taken it. She was playing around with the camera some that day."
He took the picture and looked at it again. "It's a nice one. She'd probably like to have it for the kids. Stick it back in the envelope and I'll give it to her."
A tear slid down my cheek. "Poor Wart. It just all seems like a bad dream."
"I know. It's a damned shame. I've been thinking about it all week. It just doesn't seem right that somebody our age -- somebody we know -- could get murdered. I mean, a car wreck or something is one thing, but murder. Man!" He shook his head.
"I heard that the jersey he was wearing was stolen out of your Escape," I said.
"Yeah. Dumb me, I never think to lock the damn thing. I remembered that I had that bag of extra jerseys and hats yesterday morning. We got to looking, and sure enough, one was missing. One of the hats is gone too, but they said they didn't find it."
"How's your Dad doing with all this?" I asked.
"Not great. All this stuff is so weird. The jersey, Dad's bat being the murder weapon, the fact that he didn't get along with Wart. It looks pretty bad. I'm scared to death they're going to arrest him." He kept his eyes straight in front of him. "I know he didn't do it. He just wouldn't." His voice was strained.
I took the picture from him and stuck it back in the envelope. "I know. And, for what it's worth, I don't think the police really suspect him. It really looks more like somebody's trying to set him up."
"Whoever it is better hope I don't find them out." He clenched his jaw and started driving really fast, not saying anything else.
I went back to the pictures. There was a nice one of Zach and Steve LeFever, their heads thrown back, both of them laughing.
"Did Beth take this one, too? It's really good."
Zach gave it a quick look. "Probably. She's got a real knack for taking pictures."
The next few pictures were just your basic snapshots of people playing softball and having a good time. About halfway through the stack was a shot of Beth Turner and Steve LeFever. Their heads were together and Steve's hand was on her shoulder. Something about the way they were looking at each other made me feel like I was intruding on an intensely private and intimate moment.
"Interesting picture," I said, holding it over so Zach could see it.
He smiled. "I took that one. It really captures the way they are together. Thought I'd give it to Steve."
"So I guess the rumor I heard about them is true." I put the pictures down and opened my soda. "The one about them having an affair."
Zach cleared his throat. "I hate gossip, but I guess this is all going to come out anyway. It's more than just an affair."
He took a swig of his soda. "They've been together for quite awhile. They really love each other. They were planning to get married as soon as Beth and Wart's divorce was final. I guess they'll be able to do it sooner now. Although, I'm sure they'll wait a few months for appearances sake. Wouldn't want to upset Wart's folks."
I didn't say anything about Beth's behavior at the visitation or the funeral, but it was definitely on my mind. Somehow, I didn't think Beth gave a hoot what Wart's folks thought.
"So Beth and Wart were getting a divorce? How come she slept with him Sunday night then?" I sounded just like a lawyer cross examining a witness.
Zach looked at me funny.
"Sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out like that," I said. "But it doesn't make sense to me that Beth would sleep with Wart if she was so much in love with Steve."
"She didn't. I know she told the cops that, but she's scared that if they know the truth, they'll think she had something to do with his murder." Zach flicked his signal light and swung over into a left-turn lane.
We made a left onto a narrow road. "Our place is just up here a little ways," he said.
"So what is the truth about Sunday night?" I asked. This time I sounded a lot less lawyerly.
"The truth? The truth is that Wart and Beth both wanted a divorce, but they couldn't agree on custody of the kids. Wart went over there Sunday night and they got into a huge fight about it. Beth said they argued until about four o'clock in the morning then Wart stormed out. Told her he was going over to his girlfriend's house."
"Wart had a girlfriend?" I shook my head in disbelief. "How come I never hear about these things? Who
was the lucky girl?"
"I don't know," he said, "it was a big secret."
He slowed and turned down a tree-lined gravel road. "We're home," he said.
I guess I was expecting a little two bedroom cabin or a trailer with a couple of rooms built on or something. Boy, was I ever wrong. The house was huge. A stone and cedar contemporary, it sat at the top of a grassy, gently sloping hillside.
I let out a low whistle. "Nice place."
Zach grinned. "Come on, let's go inside and get our swimsuits on," he said. "I'll show you around Mom's dream house. She's got it fixed up real nice."
Real nice was an understatement. The whole house was straight out of a decorating magazine. Emerald green, wine, tons of golden oak, soaring ceilings with skylights; everything was immaculate and looked brand new. Not to mention, expensive.
There was a great room with a massive stone fireplace, an eat-in kitchen, three bedrooms, two full baths, and a loft above the great room. Shelves and shelves of books lined two of the walls of the loft. The third wall was a solid sheet of windows allowing for a spectacular view of the lake. I was ready to move in.
A screened-in porch opened off the kitchen and a wide wooden deck overlooking the lake stretched the entire length of the house. There was also a full walkout basement with a triple-sized garage. Zach said they kept the boats in there in the winter.
I went into the guest room and changed into my red and black tank-style swimsuit. I pulled my RUN! t-shirt (Disclaimer: the shirt was a freebie.) back on over my suit, tossed my towel around my neck, and went into the great room. Zach hadn't come back from changing yet, so I stepped through a pair of French doors leading from the great room to the deck.
The lot sloped down to the lake front where two boats were tied to a large dock. The Thompson's property took up the whole end of the cove. The house was secluded from the ones on each side by rows of pine trees. A large wooden building was about halfway down on the left.
The deck held an oval dining table -- one of those poly-resin kind -- with six chairs pulled up around it, and a matching sofa and love seat set. There was a built-in barbecue pit at the end where I stood. Two chaise lounges and a hot tub were at the other end. Another pair of French doors behind the hot tub opened into the master bedroom.
I walked over to the deck railing and leaned against it. The lake sparkled in the sunshine. A slight breeze rippled in the pine trees. I felt the tension from the past week drain from me.
Zach came up behind me and put his arms around me. "So, what do you think?"
I turned around and kissed him on the chin. "I think it's amazing. Beautiful! I sure wasn't expecting this. I thought y'all had a little cabin, you know, barely running water, cast off furniture, that kind of thing. But this, this is, well, wow!"
Zach laughed. "It is pretty wow. We used to have a little cabin like you described. Dad bought all the lots on the cove about thirty years ago when land out here was cheap. When the prices took off a few years ago he sold the lots on each side of the cove. He made a killing. He told Mom she could build her dream house. So that's what she did. They plan to retire out here in a couple of years."
"I don't blame them. This is so incredible. Do you come out here much?" I pulled out of his arms and walked down to the hot tub.
Zach followed me. "I try to get down at least every couple of weeks. We play in a lot of softball tournaments on the weekends, but I usually manage to squeeze in a few hours. Mom and Dad don't get away nearly enough. If it weren't so far, I'd move down here."
A sail boat with a bright blue and yellow sail set off from the house next door.
"I don't blame you. I could get spoiled if I had a place like this. I'd probably never want to go to work or anything." I sat on one of the chaise lounges.
Zach unlocked a small cabinet built into the wall next to the French doors and took out a water test kit. "I'll test the water in the hot tub and turn it on. We can get in it after we ski."
"Sounds great. I'm still a little sore from the wreck the other night. A soak would be just the trick."
I helped him pull the cover off the hot-tub and set it aside. After he tested the water, he put a little bit of some kind of chemical in the tub.
He went back over to the cabinet. "The controls to the tub are in here. I won't make it too hot."
He adjusted the temperature knob and locked the cabinet back. We walked over to the railing. A speed boat went by out on the lake. It's wake reached into the cove and set Zach's boats to rocking.
I pointed to the wooden building. "What's that building down there for?"
Zach put his arm around me and rubbed my shoulder. "Just a storage building. We keep boat supplies, motor oil, the lawn mower, stuff like that in it." He ruffled my hair. "So, wanna go ski?"
"Sounds like a winner. I should warn you, it's been a couple of years since I skied, so you'll have to be patient with me." I looked up at him and smiled.
It was several minutes later before we stopped kissing and went down to the boats.
One of the boats tied up to the dock was a pontoon boat. It looked like it could hold a good crowd of people. The other one, a speedy looking little thing, was the one we were taking out. It was shiny blue with sporty white trim. I sat on the dock and watched while Zach did a bunch of stuff to it. He took several skis off the pontoon boat and looked them over. All of them were tossed aside.
"Hey, Marty, would you run up to the storage building? There are some skis propped up against the wall just inside the door. Grab them for me please."
"Sure. No problem. Is it locked?"
"Probably. It's supposed to be anyway. Here's the key." He tossed me a key ring. "The tarnished looking gold one."
I held up one of the keys. "This one?"
"That's the one." He turned back around and started doing some more stuff to the boat.
I made my way up to the storage building. It was larger than it had looked from the house. It was built out of weathered cedar siding. A pair of extra-wide, heavy wooden doors were clasped together. A big padlock swung from the clasp. Someone had been careless. The padlock was open.
I pulled the lock off the clasp, turned the knob, and stuck the padlock back through the hook so I could lock it back later. I tugged on one of the doors. It was stuck. I jerked and pulled. My feet kept slipping on the loose gravel path and I almost fell a couple of times. Finally, the door swung open with a loud creak.
There weren't any windows in the building, so it was really dark inside. It smelled like gasoline and motor oil. My eyes adjusted to the change in the light. I blinked. What the hell? I fumbled around for a light switch, finally finding it beside the other door. Obviously, I was hallucinating. That was the only explanation for the sight that greeted me.
Sitting smack dab in the middle of the Thompson's storage shed was a red truck. One with silhouettes of naked women on the door and a license plate that said 'WART1". I took a couple of steps toward it. It couldn't be. I took a couple more steps toward it. Sure enough, it was Wart's truck. I turned around to go get Zach. Just as I did, the door slammed shut.