Peggy Holloway - Judith McCain 02 - Portrait on Wicker (13 page)

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Authors: Peggy Holloway

Tags: #Mystery: Thriller - Missing Sister - New Orleans

BOOK: Peggy Holloway - Judith McCain 02 - Portrait on Wicker
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“Mark, the more I learn
, the more horrible I think this all is. I’m beginning to wonder how we will ever know who to trust. This is all a mess. I could have easily been one of those girls.”

“There’s just one other thing, Judith, The one they addressed as Judge was a woman.”

“Oh no, Mark. If our judge is involved, then probably so is Bill, and maybe even Sandy. They are the ones who steered us away from Judge Gadsby, and toward Judge Meadows.”

Then I thought of som
ething else. “Mark, if Bill is in on this, he could have easily said that the car that almost ran me down belonged to Judge Gadsby.

“Let’s get John to run the sa
me plates!”

 

 

 

CHAPTER 31

 

John and Trudy were sitting in the living room playing chess.

“Boy, she’s smart,” said John, “I just started teaching her how to play while we were waiting for Rosa to give birth.
I was supposed to be Rosa’s Lamaze couch, but she kicked me out and asked for drugs. So I ended up teaching Trudy how to play chess.”

“We need to talk to you John,” I said.

“That’s okay,” Trudy said. “I have some music to listen to.” She got up, stretched, and left the room.

When we told John what we had been talk
ing about, he gave a low whistle. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

But before he could run the plates, everyone began to arrive.
The judge brought pizza. Bill and Sandy brought wine. Trudy and I made salad and we all gathered in the living room on the floor again.

I tried to act natural and hoped no one could pick up on my tension.
Rosa joined us for food, and then went upstairs after arguing with John about staying and hearing everything. He was very firm with her and I knew he was trying to protect her.

My imagination was overactive during the meeting that night.
I found myself watching Judge Meadows and thought I detected something fake about her.

At one point she appeared to feel me watching her and gave me what appeared to me to be a fake smile.
Sandy looked nervous to me, but I didn’t know if that was just projection on my part.

When I looked at Bill he looked guilty to me too.

“So, what’s the answer?” Bill said, and I realized he was talking to me. I had been looking right at him, but didn’t even realize he was speaking.

“I’m so sorry, everyone,” I said, “I guess everything is really getting to me.
What did you say, Bill?”

“I asked if you needed any
help with the book. Do you need me to stay after the meeting and help you with it?”

“No, I don’t need any help.
It’s just a matter of organizing everything. I found Beth’s school books and notebooks, and I found out she was barely passing her courses, which makes sense if she was experiencing trauma.”

We ended the meeting early.
No one had anything else to report. The information Mark and I had, was not going to be shared.

After they all left, John ran the tags and said the car was registered to Judge Gadsby.

“I have an idea,” he said “Do you think we could get in to see Judge Gadsby if we took Dave with us?”

He looked at his watch, “I
t’s only eight o’clock now. What do you think?” He looked at each of us.

We called Dave
, who called Judge Gadsby and told him he needed to talk to him about the program, that he had a lot of questions about some things that had been coming up. I remembered Dave could talk just about anyone into anything, but I was surprised when the judge agreed to see him. He waited until the judge agreed to see him before he mentioned us, and after some hesitation, the judge agreed that we could all come.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 32

 

The judge lived in a mansion on the river front. It was set back from the road, down a long drive, overhung with oak trees. The house reminded me of Mimi’s back in Houston, but this one was made of white wood and had a big front porch with lots of wicker furniture. The shutters and trim were dark green and the door was bright red. There were fruit, and pecan trees in the yard. A hound dog was lying on the top step. He looked up at us with a bored look on his face.

When we rang the doorbell, a man about the same size as Dave answered the door.
He was wearing tan pants, a white polo shirt, and bedroom slippers. He had a full head of white hair and the wrinkles he had on his face were from smiling or laughing. He had no frown lines.

He smiled at
us and opened the screen door. After hugging Dave, he shook hands with the rest of us, and then led us into the living room.

There was a
coffee pot and mugs on the coffee table and he asked if we wanted coffee. When we all said yes, he left the room and came back with a steaming pot of boiling milk. He poured the milk and coffee at the same time into each mug and passed around sugar.

I had missed this kind of chicory coffee they have in New Orleans and I took a large sip
, savoring the flavor. It brought back many memories.

The judge looked at me and winked.
“I remember you very well. I was glad when they prosecuted the people who tried to ruin the lives of you and your sister. I’m glad they didn’t succeed. I hear you became a psychologist. Good for you.

“And I hear we actually placed one
of our girls, Jesse, in your home as a nanny. Is that why you’re here, she giving you some trouble?”

Dave sp
oke up before I could answer, “Actually, we’re here under false pretenses, judge.”

“Oh?”

“Judith, John, and Mark needed to ask you some questions that have nothing to do with the program and they used me to get in your door. They’re in a bind judge. You see, they don’t know who they can trust and I told them they can, for sure, trust you.”

We had decided
, before we left, to let John do the talking. He was an FBI agent, and very skilled at interrogation.

He cleared his throat, “J
udge do you have a Mercedes with license plate POR40W?”

“Yeah, that’s my car, why?”

I knew then the judge had nothing to do with the attempted hit and run.

“When was the last time you drove
it?” John continued.

The judge laughed, “About eight years ago.
What’s this about, John?”

“Has anyone else been driving it, judge?”

“Well, yes. We call it a program car. I have other programs besides the one headed up by Dave. From time to time, it’s used by different people. I’ll give you an example.

“We have a half-way house for men and women ex-cons who are trying to stay clean after serving their time.
They are allowed to stay there until they get a job and make enough money to get their own place.

“They had a Mardi G
ras party there a few days ago. One of the program directors used the car to pick up refreshments.

“Sometimes, one of the directors will use it to take one of the residents to the doctor
, or for a job interview. The car is quite old. I have a small Honda Civic now that I use to get to court.”

I almost laughed when I pictured this sophisticated judge in a Honda Civic.
He saw me smiling and chuckled.

He looked at John.
“Okay, son, what’s going on? Was my car used to commit a crime?”

“Last Wednesday
someone tried to run down Judith in your car, judge.”

“Last Wednesday?
Let me get my calendar. They have to write, in the calendar, when they will take the car. Then I make sure either my wife or I are here to give them the keys. We write the times on the calendar, the time they take it, and the time they return it.”

He g
ot up and left the room, coming back with a calendar from a mechanic’s shop. It had WWII pinup girls on each page. When he saw us looking at it he said, “My wife’s idea of a joke.”

He sat down and drank the rest of his coffee b
efore opening the calendar. “Okay, let’s see, that would have been the first. March first. There’s no one scheduled for then.” He looked at us with a question in his eyes.

I didn’t see where to go from here and then Joh
n asked, “Where is the key kept judge?”

“It’s kept in
my desk drawer, in my study.” We followed him as he went down a long hall to the last door on the right.

The office was enormous and luxurious with lots of dark wood.
The desk had been placed in front of the window and you could see a beautiful garden outside.

He saw me looking and said, “My wife’s hobby.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

John pushed the desk chair out of the way and stooped down to examine the lock.

“I feel like an idiot,” the judge said, “I’m a judge, I should know better. There’s no need to examine the lock, John, I don’t keep it locked.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER 33

 

“Anyone could have taken that key and used the car and then put it back. I looked at the window. It has a flimsy lock and he said it was opened during the day.” John was thinking out loud.

I looked at John, “I think we should have told him everything.
He thinks this is just about an attempt on my life.”

“Oh, is that all?
” Dave laughed.

“You
know what I mean and I really think we can trust him. You trust him don’t you Dave?”

“I do
, I really do. I think he’s one of the good guys.”

Mark hadn’t said anything since we left the judge’s house.
In fact, he hadn’t said much at all lately. He looked angry most of the time and I couldn’t imagine what he would do when he found the people responsible for Tracy’s death.

After dropping Dave off, we went back to John’s and I pulled Mark aside.
“Look, Mark, why don’t you go back to Houston. Brad needs you and there’s nothing more you can do here.”

“I’m staying.
Brad’s fine with Mimi. I talk to him often. He thinks I’m trying to bring his mommy back.”

“Do you think that’s wise, to let him get his hopes up like that.”

“I don’t know, Judith, You’re the psychologist. I’m sorry. That sounded so mean and you’ve been so supportive.”

“That’s all right, Mark.
I understand. I loved Tracy too. I miss her so much. We’re so angry, sad, and confused.”

“What I don’t understand is how it could have happened.
Tracy was good. Once she had hung a picture on the wall in the living room downstairs. She wasn’t good at hanging pictures and it fell during the night.

“Tracy was up, out of bed and downstairs with her gun drawn before I was even wide awake.
If someone came into that beach house during the night, Tracy would have heard and reacted immediately. How could this have happened, Judith?”

“I don’t know, Mark,
but Mr. Lessiter did have a key. We know that much. I agree with you. I think she would have sensed an intruder.” I stopped talking. I was remembering something.

“Mark, do you remember when Tracy had her wisdom teeth pulled and the dentist ga
ve her those pills for the pain? She slept like the dead that night. She said it was the best sleep she had in years.”

“Yeah, I remember that.
So, what are you saying? You think she was drugged? Who would have drugged her? Her partner also died in the fire.”

I took up the thought, “What if they went out to dinner and someone paid the waitress to put something in their beverage?
Tracy said they were going out so people would see them. What if Mr. Lessiter paid or charmed one of the restaurant staff into putting something in their beverage? Mark, I think we should go back to St. Augustine and do our own investigation. We don’t even know if there was any investigation done at all, besides the little they told us about. What do you think, Mark?”

“What about this investigation here?”

“I think they can do what they’re doing without us. We’re not really contributing that much.”

The only person we told the truth to was John.
We told the others we needed to take a break and were heading down the Florida coast. Trudy wanted to come with us but decided against it when John told her Rosa needed her.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 34

 

We arrived at JAX, Jacksonville, Florida’s airport, at 11:28 p.m. By the time we rented a car and drove to St. Augustine, it was almost 1:00 a.m. We decided to stay on Vilano Beach. Tracy and George would have eaten their meals there, instead of driving over to Yankee Beach.

There was only one newer motel in Vilano Beach.
Most of them had been there forever and had window air conditioners. After checking in, we walked along the beach to unwind, even though it was late.

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