Laid Out and Candle Lit (6 page)

He pulled her back to him and kissed her again.
“Clearly you’re drunk, but this ain’t a joke, right?”

She ran her hand down to his crotch and stroked him. “No, Dwayne, this is not a joke.”

* * * * *

The sight of Ridge coming across the street was sobering. When he entered, Tizzy stared up at him. “Well, I guess Bubba talked you into taking part in his little weekly fantasy,” she said. How’d you like the show?” She smiled and arched her brows.

He forced himself to look directly at her. “You girls can dance, I’ll give you that.”

Tizzy turned and eyed Rayann coming back across the street. “Momma, would you make sure Rayann gets home all right? I think she’s too drunk to drive.”

“Sure, sweetie.”

Tizzy gave her attention back to Ridge. “Would you mind driving Gracie and me home? I don’t think I should drive either.” She dangled her car keys in front of him.

He hesitated and Freddy spoke up. “I can take you home, Tizzy.”

Ridge cut in. “No, that’s okay. I’m staying right next door, so I can take her. I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Texas Ranger Ridge Cooper.”

“I’m Freddy Holt.”

* * * * *

When Ridge pulled into the garage, he made no attempt to get out of the car. Instead, with Gracie asleep in her seat, he turned to face Tizzy and spoke in a soft but stern tone. “Why didn’t you tell me? In the cemetery, I asked you if you could think of anything else concerning the case. Why didn’t you tell me you owned half the bank?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was wrong not to tell you. But, I don’t benefit in any way from Marlene’s death. My shares don’t increase. I don’t come into any money. So, really, how important is it?
”

“Think, Tizzy,” he said, his tone curt. “You own fifty percent. She owned fifty percent. Tell me. What happens to her fifty percent now?”

She furrowed her brows, confused by the question. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”

He unbuckled his seat belt and turned his body to face hers. “Well, I have. I imagine her husband will get twenty-five percent and each of her two children will share the other twenty-five percent. So, now you’re the person with the most stock and the most power. I’d say that’s important, but you chose not to mention it.”

Ridge saw Tizzy’s hand tremble as she laid it against her throat.

“You think it’s me, don’t you? Everything’s falling into place. My history with her. I own part of the bank. I found the body. I don’t have an alibi. It’s all there. Motive, opportunity and I’m sure as soon as you find out how she died, you’ll figure out a way for that to point to me, too. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Because you’ve already decided I’m guilty.”

His denial was quick. Too quick. “That’s absolutely not true. I’ve barely started to investigate. I haven’t drawn any conclusions about you or anyone else. Trust me, Tizzy, I’m good at what I do, but you’ve got to tell me everything. Now, I’m going to ask you again. Is there anything else you need to tell me?”

She placed her fingertips to her temples. “It’ll make things look worse for me,” she said, lowering her head. “Marlene and I had an argument that day.”

“Did you threaten her?” he asked, his voice becoming tense.

“No. Marlene and I, along with Carl and his secretary Leah, sat down to go over the agenda for the Tuesday Board Meeting.

“We had three families. The Walkers, the Addisons and the Talaferios, who were behind on their mortgage payments. Naturally, Marlene wanted to foreclose. Mr. Walker and Mr. Addison had lost their jobs. But recently, both of them found employment. I suggested we allow them to pay extra each month until they got their balance current.

“The Taliaferros were getting a divorce, and he’d left her with two small children. The woman just couldn’t make it on her own. I thought we should re-finance her note and reduce her payments. I told Marlene I felt sure I could get the Board to agree to my suggestion for the Walkers and the Addisons, but I wasn’t convinced about Mrs. Talaferio unless I had her support. Marlene refused. So I told her I’d buy the house and let Mrs. Talaferio rent it from me. She told me I was stupid and in anger I said the wrong thing. I told her it’s what Boone would do. She flew into a rage.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. I ignored her. I asked Leah to draw up the papers for the purchase. Marlene warned her that if she did, she’d fire her. Carl tried to intercede, but she belittled and berated him like she always did. In the end, she stormed out of the bank. That’s the last time I saw her until the cemetery. I know it sounds bad, but Marlene and I have argued for years. We’d never had an argument worth killing her over. You’ve got to believe me. I would never hurt her.”

Ridge stared down away from her, opened the car door and let the overhead light come on to give her a clear view of his face as he spoke. “Let me tell you what
I
think. By telling me about the argument, you’ve given me five more people as possible suspects. Losing your home is definitely a reason to be angry with someone. Leah couldn’t have been happy about being threatened with losing her job. And after the way she treated Carl, maybe he’d had enough. I’ll tell you again. Trust me, Tizzy. Let me do my job.”

There was a long moment of silence. “C’mon, I’ll help you get Gracie to bed.”

He removed Gracie from her car seat and walked slowly through the house. When Tizzy turned on the lamp, he looked around the living room. It was exactly as he thought it would be, soft and feminine like Tizzy. He couldn’t help but notice the pictures of Tizzy and Boone on the wall next to the fireplace. When he reached Gracie’s room, the sign above the door read “Princess Grace Ann.” He laid her down and stared into her angel face. She looked like her mother. He stood in the doorway as Tizzy tucked her in, placed a sweet kiss on her cheek and whispered, “I love you a bushel and a peck.”

No way could this woman be a murderer, he thought.

She stood and turned to face him. They were close. So close that he could feel her body heat, and his heart lost its rhythm for a moment. Unconsciously, he pushed a strand of loose hair behind her ear, his fingers slightly brushing her cheek.

“Thank you for telling me about the argument,” he said. “I’m not your enemy, Tizzy. In a murder case, if you’re innocent, I’m the best friend you can have. Goodnight.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

R
idge hated Texas weather. It was only ten o’clock in the morning, and the temperature already hovered near one hundred degrees. A light covering of clouds caused the humidity to hang in the air, make his clothes stick to his body and his lungs work for breath. The forecast offered no hope of improvement. He opened the door to the station house, and a blast of cool air gave him immediate relief.

Inside, he saw the dispatcher, Rita Pridmore, short, rotund, and masculine, with a lazy eye, eating a
Moon Pie,
raking the crumbs into the trash can as they fell onto her desk. Chief Ramsay and Dan sat next to her, each drinking a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, Cooper, “Rita said.

“Good morning, Rita, Chief, Dan.” Ridge set his briefcase down and removed a file folder. Before he could say anything else, the door swung open and Bubba stepped inside humming.

Chief Ramsay leaned forward in his chair. “God Almighty! Did something happen during your little Sweet Thangs stakeout? Did somebody give you something to hum about?”

Dan McAlister leapt to his feet and stepped toward Ridge. “Maybe
I
should ask you about Tizzy. Are you sure you’re not humming?”

“Settle down,” Ridge said, putting some steel in his voice. “I drove her home because she’d had one too many Margaritas. Nothing more.”

“God Almighty, Bubba. Did you and Rayann hook up after your shift, or not? Son, please tell me you didn’t chicken out. Tell me for once in your life, you followed through with that girl,” Chief Ramsay’s tone was full of disgust. “God Almighty! She’s done everything but strip nekked and march down Main Street to get your attention. Did you or did you not?”

Bubba nervously tapped his foot. “Exactly why in the hell is my sex life so important to y’all? Let’s say I did hook up with her, not that I did, but what difference would it make? It’s nobody’s business but mine.” He looked beyond the men to Rita. “Help me out here, Rita.”

Still holding the
Moon Pie
in one hand, she raised the other one in surrender. “I’m sorry, Bubba. You
were
humming and from what I heard, it does have something to do with Rayann. The Chief’s right, she’s been flirtin’ with you for a long time. I’ve been wondering if you were ever gonna make a move. I guess you finally did or did she put the move on you?”

Bubba ducked his head and mumbled, “No comment.”

Rita finished off her snack, scraped the rest of the crumbs into the trash, and took a long swig of her diet root beer. “Y’all know how you can tell when a man is really serious about a woman?”

All four men turned to face her waiting for the answer.

She smiled. “He won’t talk about the bedroom stuff. If he doesn’t care about her, he’ll brag about his conquest. He’ll talk about what he did to her and what she did to him and how wild and kinky she was. He won’t leave out anything. As a matter of fact, he’ll probably embellish the story a little. But, if he loves her . . . if he’s serious about her, he’s not about to tell anything. That’s his. All his. And he doesn’t want any other man knowing about what’s his.” She winked at Bubba with her good eye.

Bubba shook his head. “I’ll be damn. Old man Tafford. His kids came last weekend and took his car away from him. It looks like he’s come to town on his riding lawn mower.”

Everyone was still laughing when Chief Ramsay came back in.

Bubba grabbed his hat. “Let me guess. I need to take Mr. Tafford home.”

The chief nodded his head. “Yeah, you do. First, take his mower to the impound lot. I told him we’d keep it here a few days; and if he does this again, we’ll take it away for good.”

Bubba put his hat on and was humming as the door closed behind him.

Inside, they all broke into laughter.

* * * * *

Ridge watched Bubba leave and Carl Weston arrive. Carl, just under six feet tall, clearly worked out and looked younger than forty-six. He wore a navy blue tailor-made suit and a red tie that screamed money.

Ridge led Carl down the hall into a small office and motioned for him to take a seat. “I appreciate you coming in, Mr. Weston.”

“Of course. Anything I can do to help in finding out who killed my wife, I’m happy to do,” Carl said, trying to get comfortable in his chair. “Please, Officer Cooper, call me Carl.”

“I’m going to cut right to the chase . . . Carl. What type of insurance policy did your wife have, and who’s the beneficiary?”

“I understand. I’ve seen enough crime shows on television to know I’m the most likely suspect.” Carl relaxed. Finally getting comfortable in the chair, he stretched out his legs and rested his hands in his lap. “She had two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in life insurance, and we’ve had the policy since the first year of our marriage. Naturally, I’m the beneficiary, just as she is . . . was . . . the beneficiary of mine.”

Carl quickly shook his head. “Absolutely not. Tizzy and I have always had a good working relationship. As a matter of fact, now Marlene’s gone, I imagine Tizzy will take less interest in the everyday dealings of the bank. The main reason she took such an interest before was to keep Marlene in check.”

Ridge paused from making notes on his pad and glanced up. “How would you describe your relationship with your wife?”

“Marlene and I had a good relationship.” Carl chewed the inside of his jaw for a moment, then continued. “I wouldn’t describe our union as loving, but we were civil and respectful of each other most of the time. We had an understanding of what each of us expected from the other. I didn’t
hate
my wife, if that’s what you’re trying to determine. I had no reason to kill her. Regardless of her unpleasant attitude, she was the mother of my children and I would never take my children’s mother away from them.”