Killer Crullers (11 page)

I just laughed at my friend, but she had the right idea. As I started to work on the dresser drawers, I began to empty them as I searched, putting the clothing in boxes for donation—only after checking all of the pockets first. There was a very real possibility that the police’s initial search had missed something important.

In the last drawer I opened, I found a photograph in a frame at the bottom below some folded shirts. I pulled it out and studied it, quickly recognizing the man as Desmond, though he had been younger when it had been taken. A nice-looking young lady with striking blond hair was beside him, and as I studied the edge of the photograph, I could see that someone, or something, had been removed. Carefully taking the photo out of its frame, I unfolded the snapshot and saw that there was a man on the other side of the woman, though the portion with his head had been torn away. The ragged edges of the photograph told me that it hadn’t been a careful excision by knife or scissors, but rather a hurried and, from the looks of it, passionate removal. Who had caused that kind of anger? Then I remembered what Jean had told me earlier. There was a good chance that the missing man was Allen Davis, and that would make the woman in question Katie Wilkes. I started to put the photo back in its frame, but on an impulse, I stuck it into my pocket without saying a word to Grace. As much as I wanted her to see it, I’d already squelched one of her finds, so I couldn’t very well point my first one out to her.

The rest of the drawers of the bureau had nothing of real interest, and I moved on to Desmond’s closet. Inside it, besides hanging shirts, pants, jackets, and shoes, I found a small accordion file. That looked promising, so I pulled it out and started quickly scanning through the documents. Most were mundane things like old tax forms, clothing bills, and the like, but something caught my eye, so I pulled out the crumpled business envelope that had been uncharacteristically jammed into the folder.

It was a pretty sternly worded letter basically threatening Desmond with legal action if he didn’t repay the funds his partner believed he’d stolen from their joint venture. The letter had obviously been wadded up at some point, though someone, most likely Desmond, had done his best to straighten it back out again later. I added the letter to the photo in my pocket, and then started transferring clothing into the boxes. “We’re going to run out of boxes at this rate,” I said.

“I won’t be adding anything to the pile,” she said. “The desk is full of mostly junk that isn’t going to do any of us a bit of good.”

“Is there anything of sentimental value in there?” I asked. I wanted to be able to hand something over to Jean.

“I found some birthday cards from her to Desmond, and a few notes. Nothing major, but they might mean something to her.”

“Probably more than we realize,” I said. “The closet’s nearly empty, and I already finished with his dresser. How can you go through life and not collect more things than this?”

“Some folks aren’t the packrats we are,” she said.

“I can’t imagine not surrounding myself with things I love, or that remind me of good times I’ve had.”

Grace nodded. “I’m with you. Let me give you a hand with what’s left, and we can get out of here.”

We were both in the closet when the bedroom door opened, and before either one of us could turn around, a shrill voice asked, “What do you two think you are doing?”

*   *   *

“Hello,” I said as I backed out, with Grace close behind me. “You must be Jenny. We’re so sorry for your loss.” It was the same mousy brunette I’d seen in the photograph in the living room. I extended a hand to her, but she ignored it.

“Your donuts aren’t going to cut any slack from me. I told Aunt Jean she was crazy to let you in here without someone watching you the entire time.”

“Did you think we were going to take Desmond’s socks, perhaps?” Grace asked, the bite clear in her voice.

“Who knows what you have in your pockets. I demand to see everything you both found here.”

I refused to comply with that. “I’m going to try to forgive your rudeness given the circumstances, but we are here doing a favor for a friend, and I don’t appreciate the line of questioning or the tone in your voice.”

Jenny seemed to consider that before blowing up again, and then to my surprise, she crumpled onto the bed, barely able to hold herself erect. “I’m sorry. I know I can be a bit of a pain when I’m stressed, and if this wouldn’t push me to my limit, nothing would.”

“Were you and Desmond close?” I asked. I thought I knew the answer, but I wanted to see what she had to say about it.

“As kids we were inseparable, but people tend to drift apart as they get older.”

“He and your aunt were close, weren’t they?” Grace asked.

Jenny looked surprised by the question. “Absolutely. She grew to depend on Desmond more and more every day. I wasn’t sure it was entirely healthy for either one of them, but then no one asked me. Now that he’s gone, it’s up to me to step in and take his place.”

“It’s a lot to ask, giving up your life to come here,” I said as sympathetically as I could muster for her.

“We do what we must,” she said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to have a few moments alone with Desmond’s things.”

“We don’t mind staying and finishing up here,” I volunteered. “It’s a big job, and an emotional one, as well.” There wasn’t anything big about it, since we’d already finished nearly all the work, but I wanted to be certain that Grace had the opportunity to take the checkbook ledger, and anything else that she’d thought was important. I was beginning to wish that I’d allowed her to show me her find when we had the chance, but at least I’d held on to my discoveries. There was no way Jenny, or anyone else, was getting them from me.

“Thank you, but I’ve got it covered,” Jenny said, and there was no room for debate in her voice. Grace and I were being dismissed, whether we liked it or not. “I’ll show you out.”

“No need,” I said. “I’d like to say good-bye to Jean.”

Jenny frowned. “I’m afraid that’s impossible. She’s resting now. I’ll tell her you were sorry not to see her before you both left.”

She escorted us to the front door, and I half expected her to grab our arms on the way out so we couldn’t break free.

“Good bye,” she said, and as Jenny closed the door behind us, I heard the dead bolt slam firmly into place. It appeared that our access to Jean Ray was now going to be limited by an overprotective niece, if that was all it really was. There might be a great deal more to it than that, but what could Jenny be afraid we might find? Grace and I were going to have to dig a little deeper into the woman’s life, and I knew just the person we needed to ask for help. I doubted Jake would do a background search for us without more justification than we had, but I had a hunch that George wouldn’t put up much resistance. He loved digging into peoples’ pasts.

*   *   *

As we walked to her car, I said, “Tell me you kept his checkbook.”

“Sorry, that would be stealing,” Grace said. It was an odd time to start developing ethics of that particular sort. Before I could say anything else, she added, “However, I saw nothing wrong with keeping his ledger. Did you come up with anything?”

“I found a couple of things,” I confessed, “but I’m not sure what to make of either one of them.”

“I say we head back to my place so we can compare notes,” Grace said. “After all, we can’t really know what we should do until we’ve been able to come up with a game plan.”

“I just love it when you use sports metaphors,” I said with a smile.

“I’ve been in sales too long, I guess. We have more clichés than your average college football coach, though I never understood why.” After Grace started the car and headed back toward her house, she asked me, “What exactly did you find, Suzanne?”

I dug out the letter and read it to her.

Grace whistled softly. “This guy has to go to the head of our list.”

“I’ve got a feeling there’s going to be plenty of names on it before we’re through,” I said as I showed her the photo. She took it from me and nearly sideswiped a car before I grabbed it back. “You can look at that when we land, I mean park.”

“Are you implying that I’m a fast driver?” she asked with a smile.

“Imply? I don’t think so. I didn’t mean to leave any room for doubt in my voice at all. Slow down, I’d rather get there alive, if it’s all the same to you.”

She did as I asked, but still said with a grin, “Sissy.”

“Ten out of ten, if my life’s on the line,” I said.

We got to Grace’s house without further incident, and before she got out of the car, she asked for the photo again.

After I handed it to her, she shook her head. “Desmond wasn’t happy with someone, that’s for sure.”

“The question is, was the feeling mutual?” I explained the scenarios that covered what I’d found, and how they matched what Jean had told me while Grace had been on her grocery run.

“Let’s see that ledger,” I said.

She handed it to me, and I flipped first to the last balance listed. “Wow, he had less than two hundred dollars to his name.”

“Just because it’s not in his account doesn’t mean that he didn’t take Jean’s money and sock it away somewhere else.”

“I didn’t see any trace of it in his room, did you?” I asked. “I searched my area pretty thoroughly, too.”

“I didn’t find a dime,” she admitted, “which I find odd, as well. Who doesn’t keep a little mad money hanging around?”

“Someone who can’t afford to get angry,” I suggested. “I’m curious about Jean’s will, and nothing we’ve seen so far has made me any less interested.”

“Do you think Desmond was killed for his inheritance? That’s kind of premature, isn’t it, given the fact that Jean is still alive.”

I shook my head. “Think about it. If Jenny was afraid of being written out completely, she could have gotten rid of the one person in line ahead of her.”

“Wow, who knew this Desmond had so many enemies? Who do we have so far?”

“Besides his cousin Jenny there’s his former best friend, Allen Davis, his former girlfriend, Katie Wilkes, and his former business partner, Bill Rodgers.”

Grace shook her head. “There are a lot of ‘formers’ on that list, aren’t there? Are we excluding Gabby from that list completely?”

“No, as much as I hate to admit it, we can’t strike her name off just yet.” I considered it another moment, and then added, “Jean has to be included, as well.”

Grace looked surprised by my suggestion. “Why would Jean want to see him dead? They were really close, by all accounts.”

“It’s what we’ve heard, not what we’ve seen for ourselves,” I said. “What if she caught him stealing from her, or something even worse? Don’t let that demeanor fool you. Jean could be regretting her actions with those tears, not her nephew’s death.”

Grace nodded. “Got it. So, we trust no one.”

I tried my best to smile at her. “Well, I don’t think you had anything to do with it.”

When the pause continued, I added, “Aren’t you going to say the same thing about me?”

She grinned at me and said, “I don’t know, Suzanne. Those
were
your crullers.”

“But they didn’t kill him,” I reminded her.

“Okay, you’re in the clear, then.”

“Thanks, I think,” I said. “Who should we speak with first?”

“I’m not entirely sure. There are a great many choices, aren’t there?”

I nodded, and then went over the list again in my head. “Do we have time to do any more digging before your big date?”

She looked at her watch, and then said, “We’d better not risk it. Besides, we’re going to need some time to find these people first. None of them live in April Springs, do they?”

“Not that I know of,” I admitted. “Where did Desmond live before he came here to be with his aunt?”

“That’s probably going to be the answer to the other questions, too. Let me make a quick call and we’ll see.”

I tried to ask her who she was calling when she held a hand up for me to be quiet. I didn’t mind. I couldn’t really, since I’d done it enough times to her over the years. When I heard her ask for Desmond’s phone number and address, I knew she was calling information. Sometimes the easiest way was the best.

“He’s listed as living in Talbot’s Landing,” Grace said after she hung up. “That’s part of my sales territory. I know it pretty well, and it’s just half an hour away.”

“Then we get started tomorrow after work interviewing our suspects. Are you sure you have time to help?”

Grace smiled at me. “Are you kidding? While we’re there, I’ll pop in a few places and count it as a day of work.”

“Isn’t that stretching it?” I asked.

“All I have to do is go into one store in my territory to make it a work day. Is it my fault if it’s an insanely easy requirement to meet?”

I laughed. “But you’re not above taking advantage of it, are you?”

“Hey, I didn’t make the rules.”

“Agreed. Can you wait until eleven to go?”

She looked at me oddly. “Suzanne, I don’t think you have to take off early. It can wait until noon.”

I’d completely forgotten to tell her about my new working hours. “Sorry, I forgot to mention it. We close at eleven.”

“Since when?”

I laughed. “Since tomorrow. I’m cutting my hours. I’ll get to the shop at two-thirty or three every morning, make donuts till six, open the shop, and close by eleven. It’s going to be like being on vacation compared to the hours I’ve been working.”

“It will for a week or two, and then you’ll get used to it again.”

I looked at her. “Does that mean you don’t approve?”

“On the contrary. I don’t think anyone should have to work as hard as you do every week with so little reward.”

“Hey, what can I say? It’s my life. Now, will you drop me off at my Jeep? I can go home, and you can get ready for your date.”

“It’s a deal,” she said.

When Grace dropped me off at the donut shop, I said, “Have a nice time.”

“I plan to,” she said with a smile as she drove away. I really hoped it worked out for her this time. Grace deserved to be happy. For that matter, we all did.

*   *   *