Jeanne Glidewell - Lexie Starr 04 - With This Ring (19 page)

With everything that used to be on the kitchen table and counters now outside on the large table, I glanced around for Stone. I spotted him talking to Perry Coleman and another one of the church elders, as they stood beside a flower planter full of petunias. I joined them and handed the cup of tea to Stone while greeting the other two gentlemen. They inquired on the condition of my wrist before resuming their conversation with one another.

“I still can’t believe he’s gone,” Perry said to Stone. “This all seems so surreal.”

“It sure does,” Stone replied. I listened quietly while I sipped at my coffee.

Looking around, I could tell it was going to be a huge gathering. People were still swarming in, and more were driving up the street looking for parking spots. Apparently, everyone Paula had spoken with at the visitation and funeral had been invited.

It was a sunny and mild day, with temperatures hovering in the mid to upper sixties. I was thankful I’d chosen to wear a sweater because I had a tendency to be cold-blooded, sometimes in more ways than one. Perry, however, was dabbing at sweat above his brow with a cloth handkerchief. I suggested he take off his suit jacket. I assured him I’d be happy to run it inside and hang it up on the coat rack I’d noticed just inside the double sliding glass door into the dining room.

Perry agreed and removed his jacket, thanking me and handing over the black striped coat. As I walked toward the house I saw Paula chatting with the caterers who’d just arrived with several large tin containers full of barbecued beef, pork and chicken. This might be the only chance I’d have to get a look at the papers Paula had stashed away in her desk drawer.

Damn,
I thought to myself. Teddy was standing at the kitchen sink, running tap water into a glass as I opened the glass door, and walked inside. He looked up at me with an astonished expression. “I saw you at the funeral,” he said. “I was surprised the county sent their grief counselor to the funeral, and I’m even more surprised to see you here at the luncheon. You are really devoted to your job, aren’t you?”

“Well, Teddy, it just so happens I also went to your dad’s church, so I knew him personally. I’m kind of wearing two hats at once to this function.”

“Oh, I see.” I could tell he was just being polite. He probably still felt a certain degree of gratitude toward me for convincing the goons to give him a reprieve, albeit a short one. I stood up for Teddy when most county grief counselors might not have.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

“Okay, I guess.”

“Are you going to be able to pay off Harley by Friday like you promised him? In both my professional and personal capacities, I’m worried about your welfare.”

“Thanks,” he said. Teddy seemed completely sober to me, but very jittery and uptight. “I don’t know yet if the money is going to come through by then or not. I sure hope so.”

“For your sake, I do too. Those thugs aren’t the sort of people you want to piss off, you know.”

“Yes, I know. Been there, done that! And I’m lucky to still be here to talk about it. I guess I’m just a slow learner.”

My chance to check out the hidden papers was thwarted, so I walked over to the coat rack and hung Perry’s jacket over one of the hooks. As I turned to leave I saw Teddy put a pill in his mouth and swallow it with the glass of water he held in his hand. He was either taking something to calm his nerves or quell a headache, or he was taking some kind of narcotic, and his sobriety would be short-lived. I hoped, for his sake, he had a blinding headache.

Once outside, I stopped at the beverage cart and poured myself another cup of coffee. At this rate I would need to use the restroom soon, which would present another opportunity to enter the house. Of course, I could use this excuse whether or not I actually had to pee. Unless Paula had x-ray vision, she had no way of knowing how full my bladder was. And, truth be told, I had a bladder akin to that of a camel. For a reasonably petite person, I was fortunate enough to be able to hold cup after cup of coffee on a long road trip without visiting every rest area on the way.

I rejoined Stone and Perry. They were discussing the benefits of starting a Bible study class for the younger generation at the church. Perry was indeed passionate about his cause. He didn’t feel today’s youth knew enough about the Bible, and he thought the class was a way of keeping them off the streets and out of trouble. He stated that when he was much younger the church has saved him from a life of petty crime, and he saw this project as a way of giving back. When he brought up the questionable finances at the church, neither Stone nor I remarked on what we’d discovered about Betty Largo and the two sets of ledgers. We both felt we should keep this observance close to the vest until the authorities had investigated the situation further.

Stone listened to Mr. Coleman politely, nodding his head on occasion. I could tell he was tiring of the conversation as he glanced around for someone else to chat with. At his first opportunity, when Perry took a break to draw a breath, Stone excused himself to go speak to Harold and Bonnie Bloomingfield. I excused myself to run inside and use the restroom.

On the way into the house I asked Paula if I could use her restroom and she told me where to find it. She was in the middle of an argument with the caterers about the amount of pulled pork she’d ordered, so I figured I had a few minutes to spend in the kitchen without her presence.

Double damn,
I thought. Now Quentin Steiner was in the kitchen. He was sitting at the dining room table, just ending a conversation on his cell phone. We greeted each other, and then I asked him if he’d gotten an opportunity to speak with his old coach, Buck Webster, at the funeral. He shook his head and replied. “No, and I was hoping to catch up with him. I see him at the high school football games sometimes but rarely get the chance to talk to him. And, unfortunately, he told Paula they’d be unable to attend the luncheon.”

“That’s too bad. I’m sorry you didn’t get an opportunity to visit with him. Where do you live, Quentin?”

“I live with my girlfriend in Lawrence. She’s taking some post-graduate courses at Kansas University. She’s trying to earn her doctorate. I work at the Indian college there, Haskell University, as a biology professor,” he said.

“Yes, I know exactly where it’s located. Lawrence is not all that far from Shawnee, where I used to live. I’ve passed by Haskell on my way to Clinton Lake before. My fiancé, Stone, likes to fish for walleye and crappie at that lake.”

“Oh, sure. I’ve had good luck fishing there too. We also take our jet skis to the lake a lot during the summer.”

“That sounds fun,” I said to Quentin. “Well, it’s nice to see you again. I’ve just come in to use the restroom.”

“Down the hall, on the left. It was nice to see you again too.”

Despite multiple cups of coffee, I still didn’t have to go, which, naturally, did not surprise me. But I took my time in the restroom, hoping Quentin would have headed back outdoors by the time I walked back into the kitchen. I waited several minutes to no avail. Quentin was still sitting at the table when I came back through. He was talking on his cell phone again, so I just waved and went back outside to the patio.

I pumped another cup of coffee from the thermos, and walked over to where Stone was conversing with the Bloomingfields. I noticed he was using the same line I’d used with Teddy.

“We are actually members of the Baptist Church, so we also knew Pastor Steiner on a personal basis, as well as being involved with the crime scene investigation,” he said to Harold. Harold nodded, and greeted me rather coldly as I joined the group.

Bonnie looked a little dazed, but she greeted me in a friendly tone. I asked her how she was doing. She just smiled and looked down at the ground. I could tell she didn’t recognize me, and was embarrassed that she couldn’t remember my name. I just patted her on the shoulder and reintroduced myself as if we’d never met before.

Harold was telling Stone about the B-2 Stealth Bombers at Whiteman Air Force Base in Knob Noster. I stood quietly and sipped on my coffee as the topic of their conversation switched over to the ongoing war in Afghanistan. After about twenty minutes of listening to the two men discussing war strategies, there was a lull in the conversation and I told Stone I was going to go see if Paula needed any more help. People had begun filling their plates, and were sitting down at an array of card and picnic tables. A few set on lawn chairs with their plates resting on their laps. Some were situated on the steps leading up to the upper deck of the two-story home. A few of the younger men sat cross-legged on the stone patio, holding their plates with one hand and their forks with the other, leaving room for their elders at the scattered tables.

I found Paula, rearranging brownies on a platter, and asked her if I could further assist her in any way. She replied that everything was in order and thanked me for my earlier help. I then walked over to pump another cup of coffee, as if I needed another shot of caffeine, and found that the thermos was nearly empty. I think I’d drunk the biggest part of it myself.

I walked back over to the dessert table to inform Paula of the shortage of coffee and asked her if I could go brew another pot in the coffeemaker inside to pour into the thermos. I assured her I knew she was busy and I didn’t mind making the coffee at all. She agreed, telling me where to find the Folgers and filters.

Hot damn!
This time I found myself alone in the kitchen. Before anyone else walked in I hurried to the desk, pulling out the drawer and picking up the three envelopes. One was from the electric company, another from a carpet-cleaning company, and the third one was from a regional life insurance company, called Full Faith Insurance. This one caught my interest. As I slid the papers out of the envelope, I knew this was the one Paula had tried to hide.

Reading as fast as I could, I realized it was the official documents of a whole-life insurance policy on Paula’s father, Thurman Steiner, and the coverage was for five hundred thousand dollars. Further down the page it showed Paula was listed as the sole beneficiary. This was interesting. I wonder if she’d informed the investigators of this fact. Having the papers loose on her desk indicated to me she was in a hurry to collect on the policy. Was she in a financial bind as others in her family seemed to be? Had Teddy hit his sister up for a loan to pay off Harley, his bookie? Is that from where he was hoping the money would come through before Friday? Or did he also have an insurance policy on his father? I knew they all had equal shares coming to them off the proceeds of the policy the church provided for the pastor, but knew it wasn’t a substantial amount, and I didn’t know how soon beneficiaries generally collected in a situation like this. I thought Friday would be pushing it, if Teddy was depending on his inheritance from his father to save his scrawny neck from Harley’s two goons.

Just as I started to fold the papers back up I heard the back door sliding open and Paula’s sultry voice telling someone she’d be right back. I didn’t have time to get the papers in the envelope and the envelopes back in the drawer. Acting on instinct, I flung open the door next to the desk and, still holding the papers I’d extracted from the envelope, stepped inside as rapidly as I could. I had thought it was a pantry or closet, but it turned out to be the door to the basement. I didn’t have time to shut the door before Paula entered the kitchen, so I quickly and quietly made my way down the stairs. Hopefully she’d assume I had revisited the restroom, as I was starting to actually need to do.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs I heard the low growling of one dog, and the high-pitched yapping of another. It was not a walkout basement, and there was only one small window well so it was nearly pitch dark. I didn’t know whether I wanted to be at the mercy of two angry, protective dogs, or one ticked-off Paula Bankston. In a moment of pure insanity I chose the dogs.

“Tiny! Moose! Shut up down there!” I heard Paula shout from the top of the stairs. I’m sure she was wondering why the basement door was open, but she was on a mission and too pre-occupied to walk down the stairs and check out the situation. Instead, she just closed the door. Then I heard the sound of a dead bolt sliding shut. She had locked me in the basement with her dogs, who didn’t appear to want to share their space with me.

Now I decided I’d rather be at Paula’s mercy. Was it too late to change my mind? I ran back to the top of the steps and banged on the door with my cast, calling out Paula’s name several times. She must have just grabbed something quickly and gone back outside. No one came to my rescue.

Moments later a small bundle of energy rushed up the stairs toward me. My eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness. With what little light was coming in through the one recessed window, I could tell it was a Chihuahua, a pint-sized monster who thought he was a Doberman pinscher. This must be Tiny, I thought, as he latched on to the bottom of my jeans leg and began thrashing his head back and forth. I backed down the stairs as I tried to shake the miniscule dog off me. “Down Tiny! Let loose! Get off me, you little shit!”

As I backed across the floor of the basement, still trying to free myself from the Chihuahua, I began to hear deep growling behind me, which soon turned into snarling. I could tell from the low timber of its voice it was a large dog. Then I heard the whining of puppies and knew I was in a world of trouble. A mother of nearly any species would fight to the death to protect her young. God knows I’d do the same for Wendy.

As I saw a huge dark dog approach me I, fortunately, also saw a wooden table out of the corner of my eye. It was right behind me, a couple of feet to my right. I could now see clearly enough to realize a huge mastiff was pursuing me. Just as she lunged at me with her gnashing fangs bared, I jumped backward on to the table with the Chihuahua still dangling from my pants leg, its back feet now off the ground as it was swinging back and forth like the pendulum on a metronome.