Jeanne Glidewell - Lexie Starr 04 - With This Ring (23 page)

Our conversation was a reminder of how much joy Sheila had brought to my life. She always knew what to say to bring me out of a blue funk, and exactly when to say it. She stood by me no matter what happened in our lives, and we’d never had a cross word between us. I marveled now at how youthful she looked, as I did nearly every time I saw her after several months apart. Despite the fact she was the same age as me, she managed to keep her body lean and fit, and had the kind of face that never seemed to age.

Sheila, who was four or five inches taller than me, at about five-foot-seven, had dark brown hair that had been somewhat frizzy as a child, but now hung straight and silky to her shoulders. The only concession to her age was a small silver patch of hair, about a half-inch wide, running down the right-hand side of her head. I found it totally endearing and was glad she didn’t opt to keep it colored, as I might have done out of pure vanity.

“I guess it’s settled then?” Sheila asked, bringing me out of my reverie.

“I think it probably has been all along.”

“So, what’s on our agenda for tomorrow?”

“We’ll have a busy morning. We need to pick up the flowers at the florist’s shop in the afternoon. I’ve got to purchase all the miscellaneous groceries, as well, such as the ingredients for the punch, the nuts, butter mints, and other refreshments, and the paper products we’ll need. I should have had the grocery shopping already done, but I’ve been too preoccupied.”

“Are we spiking the punch?” Sheila asked with a sly grin.

“Is there any other way to serve punch? I think we might all need a healthy dose of rum by Saturday afternoon.”

“Amen to that! The wedding is scheduled for three o’clock. What all will we have left to do on Saturday morning?”

“Not too much,” I assured her. “We’ll just have to get the final details worked out and the gazebo and back patio all decorated and ready. The rental tables and folding chairs will be delivered around nine Saturday morning, and Stone and Randy can probably help out by getting them set up. Then there will be some minor details to take care of, but all in all, the day shouldn’t be too hectic or time-consuming. But this is your vacation, and I don’t expect you to work the entire time you’re here. You’ve been pitching in since you got here.”

“Well, we came a couple of days early so I could serve as your minion, as you have done for me on several occasions. I’m willing and able to do anything I can to help, so you can forget the vacation nonsense,” Sheila said as she stood up and motioned for my coffee cup. “Sit out here and relax, and rest your bruised and battered body while I go in and pour us a refill.”

“Thanks, pal! I’m so thankful you’re here!” I handed her my cup and settled back into the cushion on my outdoor lounge chair. I felt better knowing the wedding was going to take place as planned, with the blessings of my dearest friend. I was sore and exhausted, but having Sheila here helped give me the burst of energy I’d needed. With her assistance, getting everything ready would be a lot of fun, not a taxing chore like it would be under other circumstances.

When Sheila returned with fresh cups of coffee, we turned the conversation toward more light-hearted topics. She told me what her two sons were currently doing, and how her job as a financial consultant was going. I told her about Wendy’s job as the county coroner’s assistant, and about her budding romance with Stone’s nephew, Andy. Then we reminisced about our younger days and all the hair-raising experiences we’d shared, and some more of the predicaments we’d found ourselves in.

Finally, we got back to the subject of Pastor Steiner’s death. I related everything I could remember to her about the case that I hadn’t already told her, and all about my on-going amateurish involvement in the investigation. It was nice to have someone to talk to who wouldn’t chide me about the risks I took in order to obtain as much information as I could. Sheila had seen me take a lot of foolish risks before, and was not above doing the same. I knew no matter what situation might arise, I could trust her to go along with my hair-brained ideas and still have my back.

Chapter 13

“I have always maintained there is no such thing as a coincidence,” Sheila said as we sat on the back porch the next morning. “Even though you’ve decided definitively to go ahead with the nuptials, I still think we should look further into the murder investigation. Don’t you? If nothing else, I know having the killer arrested, or just a suspect in custody, would make you feel better about the whole situation.”

“You bet it would!” I answered enthusiastically. I couldn’t help but feel some excitement at Sheila’s comments. I was hoping she’d feel enthusiastic about my investigation because I’m not one to give up easily, and I still wanted nothing more than to see the killer brought to justice. Despite his shortcomings, I still considered Pastor Steiner a friend, and a fine gentleman, and I wanted justice served on his behalf.

Stone and Randy were establishing a fast friendship and shared an interest in fishing. Hoping for a mess of crappie, they’d gone to Smithville Lake with Detective Johnston, so Sheila and I would be left to our own devices for most of the morning. That was scary. The very thought sent a shiver up my spine, and I’m sure it gave Stone and Randy reason to pause, as well.

I set my cup down as I listened to Sheila thinking out loud. “I find it extremely odd that Steiner’s daughter, Paula, would take out a five-hundred-thousand dollar insurance policy on her father just weeks before his death. I also find it strange his son, Teddy, would need money so desperately right at the exact time of his father’s death. Don’t you?”

“Yes, the timing in both instances seems almost too coincidental.”

“Didn’t you tell me that Stone’s nephew is buying a mastiff puppy from Paula?”

“Yes. As I told you, Andy is purchasing a cattle ranch and inheriting a golden retriever named Sallie. He’s buying this pup from Paula to be a companion for Sallie on the ranch. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I was just thinking. Who’s to say I’m not in the market for a mastiff puppy myself?”

“You? You’ve got to be kidding! You’ve never owned a dog in your life, Sheila. You don’t like being tied down to a pet because it interferes with your traveling. You wouldn’t own a goldfish, much less a two hundred pound mastiff!”

“True, but Paula Bankston doesn’t know that. I thought we could drop by her house on the pretense I’m interested in purchasing one of her pups. After asking some benign questions about the dogs, we can bring up the death of her father. Who knows what we might learn that has been overlooked by the authorities? And I might even be persuaded to ask some rather blunt questions about the insurance policy, because, after all, I don’t really care if I piss her off or not. I have nothing to lose.”

Sheila seemed very pleased with herself for coming up with this idea, and I had to admit it had a lot of promise. I wasn’t particularly concerned whether I pissed Paula off either. If she had anything to do with her father’s death, then she deserved to be upset, and if not, she shouldn’t hesitate to tell us what she knew and be glad to help in any way she could.

“I’ll give her a call,” I said. “Maybe we can stop by her house on our way to Pete’s Pantry.”

* * *

“Good Morning Paula! Are you doing okay?” I asked, as the door opened at the Bankston residence. “I know how tough a week this has been for you, so I really appreciate you letting my friend come over and take a look at the puppies.”

Paula nodded. She had very little emotion in her voice and an almost vacant expression on her face, as if nothing going on around her was even registering. I introduced Paula to Sheila, and she took Sheila’s outstretched hand and gave it an unenthusiastic shake.

“Please come in,” Paula said. “Tiny and her puppies are in the basement.”

Unfortunately Moose wasn’t in the basement and bypassed Paula and Sheila to make a beeline for me. He growled and firmly grasped the bottom of my jeans with his teeth. He then began to snarl as he thrashed his head back and forth, tearing at the denim fabric. At least I’d come prepared this time and worn an old pair of raggedy jeans I’d accidentally tie-dyed with Clorox bleach while cleaning all the toilets at the inn.

“Get down, Moose,” Paula said, with what sounded to me like resignation. It was almost as if the sounds the dog was emitting were wearing on her nerves, and she had no concern for my clothing or my personal welfare. Paying no attention to his master’s command, Moose continued his attempt to shred my jeans. I considered slinging him across the living room with my foot, and would have gladly done so if not for Paula standing right next to me.

“Wow! Moose has really got it in for you, doesn’t he?” Sheila asked. “Whatever did you do to make him dislike you so much?”

“I really don’t know,” I replied. Perhaps referring to him as a “little shit” the last time we met had offended him, I wanted to say. Any five-pound dog, named Moose, must surely have a size complex. But I kept my thoughts to myself since Paula was not aware of my previous encounter with her dogs during the luncheon. She was still under the impression I’d only descended the stairs to her basement after she and Andy had gone down to check out the puppies.

Paula finally extracted the tiny Chihuahua from my leg and set it out on the front patio, closing the screen door behind him. “You two can go on downstairs. I’ll be down in a minute. I need to visit the bathroom. I guess you remember where the basement door is, Lexie.”

I assured her I did and motioned for Sheila to follow me. As we walked through the kitchen, I pointed out an envelope lying on the built-in desk. I silently tapped on the return address, which indicated the Full Faith Insurance Company of Independence, Missouri, had sent it to Paula.

Sheila glanced at it quickly and nodded. I had shown her an extra photocopy of the document I’d found in an envelope like this one earlier. I assumed it was the same envelope but couldn’t be certain. Perhaps the policy had paid off, and this was a new envelope containing a check for a half a million dollars. I don’t know if I could have left a check for that amount lying casually on top of a desk in my kitchen, however. I certainly wouldn’t have used it as a bookmark. More likely I’d have duct-taped the check to my abdomen underneath a shirt and a sweater, and hightailed it to the bank thirty seconds after I’d retrieved it from the mailbox. Sandy Webster, the teller at my bank, would have already deposited the half million in my account, or possibly in two or three separate accounts so the entire amount would be FDIC insured. I didn’t take any chances when it came to huge sums of money, nor was it a problem I dealt with on a regular basis.

Paula headed back toward the rear of the house as I opened the door to the basement. This time Tiny didn’t raise much of a fuss as we descended the steps. I motioned Sheila back toward where I knew the mastiff and her litter were, and laughed as Sheila’s eyes widened at the sight of Tiny nursing her pups.

“Good Lord,” she said. “Are the puppies going to be that large too one day?”

“Yes,” I replied. “They are full bred pups. The males, of course, will grow even larger than Tiny. Are you sure you don’t want two or three of them?”

“I’ve been known to be a pretty good actress at times, but I’m not sure I can even pretend to want a dog, much less one the size of a Jersey cow!”

“Oh, sure you can! You’re a very believable actress. I’ve seen you in action! Remember? Shhhh, here she comes.”

“Tiny is gorgeous,” Sheila said as Paula walked up behind us. “And the puppies are so cute and healthy looking. How old are they now? Are they nearly weaned?”

“A month old tomorrow. It will just be a couple weeks before they’re weaned and ready to go to their new homes. All five have been given clean bills of health by the vet.”

“I can tell by looking at them they’re full bred,” Sheila said. Before two minutes ago I wasn’t sure if Sheila could tell the difference between a mastiff and a St. Bernard, but she’d just heard me say they were full-blooded and nothing slipped by her when she was in her acting mode.

“Yes, you’re correct. Are you partial to any of them?” Paula asked wearily.

“I think if I decide to purchase one, it’d have to be the one with the small white patch on its chest.”

“Oh, sorry,” Paula said, with no pretense of regret in her voice. I was initially surprised at how much more chipper she suddenly sounded. “That one has already been spoken for. Speaking of which, Lexie, do you know when Andy is stopping by again? I’d really like to see him! And I also have the American Kennel Club form to give him.”