NOT What I Was Expecting (12 page)

“Well then,
ladies, I thank you for your time.  I hope I can count on both of you to get in
touch with me if you hear anything from Luke.  We have just a few more
questions for him,” he informed us.  With that he put his hat back on, nodding
to us as he said, “CeCe, Maggie, you have a nice day.”

I caught sight of
the smile he was attempting to hide as he turned and headed out the door.

Now CeCe’s mouth
was the one hanging open.  I must say, I was a little shocked myself.  Had he
known CeCe’s name all along last night?  Although I corrected him the first time
he called her Bebe, he didn’t appear to have heard me, since he said it again a
few minutes later.  I would have liked to spend a little more time trying to
figure out sneaky-deputy-guy, but I had a more pressing problem.

Luke was in
trouble.  It seemed the sheriff’s department was focusing on him because of the
inheritance, or his timing in returning to town, or whatever other reason that
might make it easy to close their murder investigation.  What if they figured
out that Fry and Luke were more than acquaintances in high school?  What if
they discovered Fry loaned his friend the use of his fishing cabin?  They would
approach Luke, who was unaware of the current mind set in the sheriff’s
office.  I couldn’t let that happen.  I couldn’t let them catch him completely
off guard with their slanted view of things.  I had to give Luke a head’s up on
the disturbing direction the investigation was taking. 

“I have to go tell
Luke what’s going on,” I said thinking out loud while I scrambled to get my
keys and purse.

“Hold it,” CeCe
said, grabbing my arm.

“You don’t
understand, CeCe,” I wailed.  “If they question him with their current agenda,
but he doesn’t know what they’re thinking, and he innocently answers the
questions, then they twist what he says to conveniently fit in with how their
minds are already . . . .”

“Maggie!”
interrupted CeCe, ending my tirade.  “I said
hold it
not
don’t go
. 
Of course you have to go tell Luke.  We already know from when we stayed at
Fry’s cabin a few months ago that there’s no cell phone reception in that
area.  I just meant I think you should let me make sure Deputy Ben is gone
before you go charging down the street, out of town, and to Fry’s cabin with
him following you or something.  I mean, what was up with my name?  What was
that about?  He didn’t know my name last night, but he knows it today when
neither of us mentioned it in his presence?  I’m telling you he’s devious, and
he’s up to something.”

That gave me pause
for two reasons.

“You’re right,” I
acknowledged.  “Since he is suspicious of me, I have to make sure he isn’t tailing
me.”  I’ve seen just as many cop shows as anybody so I can throw around the
lingo as if I know what I’m talking about.  “Devious, CeCe?  I thought Deputy
Ben was your hero?”

“
Was
being
the operative word,” CeCe agreed.  “I don’t want the father of my children to
be someone who does such shoddy police work that an innocent man gets a
dirt-nap injection, just because the sheriff’s department wants a quick, easy
conclusion to something that is screwing with their violent crime statistics. 
Deputy Ben and I are so over.”

I couldn’t argue
with rational thinking like that, so I nodded my head and asked CeCe to see if
the coast was clear.  When she gave me the
move-it-out-on-the-down-low
sign, (or was she giving me the
you’re-clear-to-steal-second
sign?) I
made a break for my car.

CHAPTER 8

As I drove down
the highway toward the Tickfaw River, I contemplated the current situation. 
Luke should have a lawyer with him when the police talk to him again.  Maybe I
should have my mother call John Salvatino.  He was an attorney in town who was
infatuated with her.  We didn’t have an attorney who specialized in criminal
law in a town the size of Oakman.  The occasional criminal activity was handled
by the different lawyers in town who specialized in other areas.  At least that
was true when it was typical small stuff.

Let me think, when
was the last crime in the ballpark of murder committed in our town?  We did
have that drug dealer who was murdered a few years ago.  He was technically a
transplant from New Orleans, however, who was caught by some other dealer he’d
pissed off.  He didn’t live in Oakman, but was hiding out at his grandmother’s
house when he was killed.  Since the suspected killer was found dead from an
overdose in New Orleans a few months later, nobody needed legal representation
in that case.

There was the time
Bubba Goodwall ran over Emile Trahan and broke his leg in two places.  Emile
had been fooling around with Bubba’s wife, but crimes of passion are still
considered criminal, right?  If I remember correctly, Bubba got a criminal
attorney from New Orleans.  Maybe that’s the way to go?  It worked out okay for
Bubba, who got a suspended sentence after Emile refused to testify against
Bubba.  Turned out, Emile discovered Bubba’s wife was cheating on both of them
with a crab boil manufacturer based in Lutherville, the next town over.  I
think I heard Bubba and Emile opened a bait and tackle shop together after
Bubba divorced his wife and Emile dumped her. 

Yeah, I think
getting an attorney from New Orleans who specializes in criminal law is
definitely the best option.  I was tempted to call CeCe before I found myself
out of cell phone range to get a New Orleans number for a criminal lawyer, but
stopped myself when I thought of Luke.  This was his life, his decision, and he
should be making the choice of who should represent him, if it even came to
that.  At this point, it appeared the investigators had more questions than
accusations.  All he really needed to do was give them all his information on
his alibi for the suspected time of death for each of the victims, and he
should be cleared of any suspicion, right?

Finally, I came to
the exit that would take me from the interstate to the fishing camp.  I was
driving along the shell road approaching Fry’s cabin, when I realized I should
have been thinking about how I would bring up the whole
‘narrow minded
investigation seems to be looking in the wrong direction, because they have
more questions for you and don’t want to give you time to grieve’
situation
to Luke.  I couldn’t just blurt it out.  Well, actually I
could
and
that’s why I was concerned.  I would prefer to say it in a way that wouldn’t
add to his stress level at the moment, but I hadn’t put any thought into
broaching the subject delicately.

Fry’s fishing
shack/cabin/cottage was actually a pretty nice little place that sat on pilings
(to avoid rising river problems) and allowed for parking underneath.  Since
that was the only shade close to the little brown cabin, I pulled my Honda up
next to Luke’s Kia Sportage. 

When I opened my
car door to get out, I heard laughing.  Luke stepped off the stairway that led
down from the porch above, and he apparently found me or my car amusing, since
we were the only ones there.

“I’m learning that
if I want to see you, all I have to do is pick up my car keys,” Luke laughed as
walked toward me.  “I had a dog like that once.  Of course, you’re much better
looking than she was, and that’s saying a lot, because she was gorgeous.”

The look on Luke’s
face indicated he regretted the dog analogy, but I was kind of enjoying his
attempt to dig himself out of the hole he’d fallen into.

“That’s not as
insulting as it might sound,” he continued, “since I was crazy about that dog. 
I think I’ll shut up now and let you tell me why you came, because I’m pretty
sure it wasn’t to hear about my former pets.  But that’s just a guess.”

Oh, he’s good. 
Even when he regretted what he said, he was still all charming.  Why can’t I do
that?  I should have way more practice, since I’m confident I embarrass myself
and regret stuff I say a lot more often than he does.  I’m not bragging.  I’m
just saying.

I smiled back at
him and tried to focus on the keys in his hand.  I thought that might make it
easier to ignore the feeling that I should throw my arms around him and tell
him everything was going to be alright.

“I gather I caught
you on your way out, again?” I asked, gesturing toward his car keys.

“I was heading
into the last town I passed to get some supplies,” he responded.

Now that we’d
covered what he was doing, Luke stood there (I assumed) waiting for me to
explain what I was doing.

“I would have just
called, but there’s no cell phone reception in this area.  I need to speak with
you about something, but I’m kind of starving.  Do you want to go get something
to eat before you get your supplies?” I asked, hoping to soften the blow of
telling him he’s a little more popular with our sheriff’s department than most
people consider a good idea.

“Sure, that sounds
good,” Luke agreed.  “Where’s the best seafood around here?”

I silently
applauded Luke’s ability to go with the flow and not look at me like a
stalker.  This had to make no sense to him, since he didn’t know what I was
doing popping up out of nowhere, but once we were comfortably having lunch I
would explain.

“CeCe and I always
go to Pup Heaven when we’re out here,” I volunteered in answer to his
question.  When I saw the startled look on Luke’s face, I realized the name
Pup
Heaven
might be a little off putting.  “They’re known for their hush
puppies,” I clarified.  “Best in the state.  The seafood there is delicious,
too.”

Luke smiled and
shook his head as he apologized, “Sorry if I seemed a little thrown.  You have to
understand that while I was in the Peace Corps I spent time in places where
that name would be indicative of an entirely different type of cuisine.”

I wrinkled my nose
and curled my lip before I realized how unattractive that probably made me look,
but Luke was still smiling at me anyway.

“I agree,” he
said.  “Just so you know, when I said earlier I was crazy about my dog, I
didn’t mean as an entree.”

As we drove toward
town, we made small talk, and I told Luke about some of the more interesting
customers we had encountered in the Big & Blessed shop.  Luke was laughing
as we entered Pup Heaven and sat down in a booth in the back.

“You’re kidding,
right?” he wanted to know, with a look of disbelief on his face.  “She liked
your taste in maternity clothes, so she actually wanted you to name her baby? 
That’s messed up.”

The waitress
brought us menus and announced she would return in a minute to take our order.

“You have to
understand,” I explained.  “She’d just found out that she was having a girl. 
She was very excited and very emotional.  She said she wanted her little girl
to have the most beautiful name in the world.  She’d been looking at boy’s and
girl’s names but hadn’t found anything she liked for a girl.  She didn’t want
to stress about it anymore and swore that whatever name CeCe and I agreed on
would be the name she’d give her daughter.  Since the customer is always right,
we came up with the best name we could in that kind of pressure situation.”

“What name did you
two decide on?” Luke wanted to know, fighting back his chuckles and trying to
look serious out of reverence for the gravity of the situation.

“Hyacinth,” I
answered softly, since I didn’t feel that decision had been one of my or CeCe’s
most spectacular accomplishments.  “You weren’t there.  You didn’t feel the pressure
of knowing it had to be unique.” 

Luke gave up the
fight of trying not to laugh and admitted, “Oh, I think you were successful if
you were going for unique.”

“I’ll tell you
what’s really messed up.  That same lady came into the shop about two years
later pregnant with her second child.  So obviously she still thought a lot of
our shop.  Of course, she had her 20-month-old daughter Sally with her.”

“If you didn’t
have such an honest face, I’d swear you made that up,” Luke commented between
chuckles.

“No,” I explained
patiently.  “If I made it up, the baby would have actually still been using the
spectacular name CeCe and I chose for her.”  The smile fell from my face as I
continued, “I hope you were serious about me having an honest face, since I want
you to feel you can trust me.  You know, Fry’s not your only friend in town who
wants to help you.  CeCe and I want you to know you can count on us.”

“Help me?”  Luke
looked confused.  “Help me with what?  I appreciate everything you and CeCe did
with the food storage, but now that it’s taken care of I don’t think I need any
more help.”

“Actually, you
might,” I said gently.  “That’s what I came here to talk to you about.”  I was
just about to launch into everything when the waitress appeared.  Luke ordered
a beer and the seafood platter.  I substituted a diet soda for the beer but
also ordered the seafood platter to save time, since I hadn’t given any thought
to my menu.  When the waitress collected the menus and walked away, I told Luke
about Deputy Ben’s visit to the shop that morning.

I quoted Ben
whenever my memory allowed and concluded with my impression of the direction
the police investigation was taking.  I added that I wasn’t trying to be pushy,
but I knew he had enough to deal with right now without any additional stress,
so maybe if he told the investigators he was at the library working with his
crew on Monday when Ms. Eliza was murdered, that would help.  He could also
point out all the people he was checking with while he looked for his Uncle Barney,
which would give him witnesses to back him up and help the sheriff’s department
move on.

Luke had been
listening intently to the reason for my visit.  He never interrupted with
questions or comments, and while it was nice that I was allowed to get through
it without losing my place, now I was frustrated.  I was hoping for some kind
of reaction, so we could deal with the anger, worry, or whatever and then get
on with figuring out his best option at this point.  Instead, Luke just sat
there.  The only change since I’d stopped talking was that his attention
shifted from me to the sweat on his beer mug which was delivered early in my
recitation.

It must add insult
to injury to lose someone you care about, and then be repeatedly questioned
about your alibi, your inheritance, your possible motive, and every other
question that implies you might have wanted him dead.  I couldn’t imagine
trying to deal with losing someone I loved while being subjected to the
investigation we knew had to go on if the murderer was ever to be found.  My
concern was that the investigators might look only as far as Luke’s doorstep
and no further.

When Luke finally
looked up from his beer mug, he focused his attention on me.  “I don’t have an
alibi for either murder.  On Monday, during the time they believe Ms. Eliza was
killed, I wasn’t at the library.  Wednesday afternoon after her funeral, which
is the time they’ve given for Uncle Barney’s time of death, I wasn’t at the
library because I was running around looking for him.  Unfortunately, I’m going
to have a hard time proving that, if it comes down to it.  I drove up to
Lafayette Monday morning.  That’s where my parents are buried, and I hadn’t
been to their graves since I moved back.  I didn’t tell anyone because Uncle
Barney is the only one I would have said anything to.  He’d been so emotional
lately I didn’t want to upset him.  I realized once I was on the road that I’d
left my cell at home.  I thought it wasn’t a big deal since I told my crew to
expect me after lunch, anyway.  Then when I got back into town, Uncle Barney
was so upset it took me a while to get him calm enough to even understand why
he was angry.  I called his doctor’s office on my way to the library, and the
investigators have already asked me why that’s the first time I used my cell
phone on Monday.”

Luke paused and shook
his head as he continued, “On Wednesday, I started checking in with people
later in the day, like when I stopped to get Fry to help me look for Uncle
Barney.  Earlier, when I first started looking for him, I didn’t say anything
to anybody.  I didn’t want him to be embarrassed by everyone telling him I’d
been looking everywhere for him.  I really thought I’d find him in those first
few hours, and I knew he didn’t want everyone to know he was sitting somewhere,
unable to find his way home or something.  He was so proud, and he was taking
it hard that he couldn’t always think as clearly as he used to.  I don’t know
why I’m giving you excuses, because obviously I screwed up.  In spite of that, I
didn’t kill my Uncle Barney or Ms. Eliza,” he said softly.  “I don’t want you
to wonder, or be afraid to be around me, or . . . .”

“Luke!” I gasped,
“I know you didn’t kill anyone.”

Just for a second,
I thought I caught a glimpse of something I hadn’t seen in his eyes before now. 
Vulnerability maybe?  As quickly as it appeared, it was gone and the intense
concentration was back.

“Didn’t you come
here to tell me I needed to come back to Oakman to be interrogated by the
sheriff’s office?” Luke asked, looking a little surprised in spite of his
controlled demeanor.

“No!” I
practically shouted.  Well, yes, I actually had, but not in the way that he
meant.  I wasn’t about to suggest going to the police with an attorney now. 
Not when he thought I might believe he could be a killer.  Especially when the
alibis I so brilliantly suggested he share with the investigators didn’t
exist.  “I came to tell you about the ridiculous assumptions the sheriff’s
investigators are making.  I know you didn’t kill anyone, and I didn’t want you
to be unaware of where things stand.”