Snoop to Nuts (21 page)

There was nothing we could do at the hospital. The pastor was in surgery. He had a bullet in his left shoulder. One went straight through the side of his neck. The doctor who came out said to go home, the pastor was fine, and would be sedated until at least the next day.

Sheriff Higsby had already made arrangements for a guard at the parson’s door. A deputy from another town stood there with his hands behind his back, taking the job very seriously. I couldn’t help but feel that was a little like shutting the barn door after the horse was gone, but then I told myself that wasn’t true at all. Whoever was afraid of what the parson knew would be after him again. We had to figure out who that person was and keep that barn door guarded.

I was eager to get Hunter and Miss Amelia alone. We needed to talk. There were things right outside our grasp, I could feel it. Something we had to latch on to.

A reporter from the
Riverville Courier
stopped us on the way out to the parking lot, but he knew as much of the details as we did at that point. He wrote down Miss Amelia’s comments on how terrible this all was and how we were wishing the pastor a full recovery, but that only opened her to questions everybody in town must have been asking by then.

“Why is all of this happening around you, Miss Amelia?” the young female reporter asked.

I could see the anguish on Meemaw’s face and couldn’t do a thing to help her.

“I’ll tell you, dear.” She pulled in a deep, shivering breath. “I sure hope we find out who is doing all of this and why it’s happening around me, and find out pretty soon. Never wanted to hurt a soul in my life before. Now, well, to tell you the truth, I’m after this killer’s blood.”

I wanted to groan. Miss Amelia was never one to mince words but just a tweak here or there to that statement and it would come out sounding like a confession. I took her arm and led her over to the truck before she thought of something else to add.

*   *   *

We’d agreed that going for lunch at The Squirrel would only increase the stir swirling through town. We decided Rancho en el Colorado was the best place for all of us. Hunter had a report to get in and a meeting with the sheriff but after that he said he’d be out to talk. We settled on three o’clock. In the meantime, at home I tried to get Miss Amelia to lie down and rest. When that didn’t work, I made us sandwiches and sweet tea and took everything out to a table under one of the oldest pecan trees on the ranch, branches spreading all around us.

Hot, hot day but cool dampness under that tree that had seen so much of Blanchard history. I could hear Martin and his men out working on ditches in the groves. The voices came slow through the trees. What I wanted most to do was settle back in my chair, drink my sweet tea, listen to the buzz of bees, and do nothing but fan my face, complain about the heat, and speculate whether a storm would blow up. I wanted to be Maggie in
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.
Shelby in
Steel Magnolias.
No, not that one. I think Julia Roberts dies, and that’s not what I’m after on this fine afternoon with people getting poisoned and shot all around me.

Bethany sauntered out from the house, fanning herself. “Hot day. Don’t know how I’m supposed to dress for a client when all I do is sweat out everything I own.” She took the glass of tea I offered but waved away a sandwich. After falling into one of the cushioned seats, she complained that she hadn’t seen Jeffrey all day and they were supposed to go into town. She was further upset, she added, because now our mama was expecting her to come in and help at the Nut House and she had all these other details to take care of for an upcoming wedding in the event tent.

“Booked another wedding today.” She examined her fingernails. “I’m thinking of having the doves sprayed pink this time.”

“Might kill ’em,” I muttered toward her, not in the mood for pink doves or pink tulle or towering centerpieces.

“Oh, Lindy, you always say things like that. I know you’re only kidding but I have to take this seriously. We’re not the only event tent in town, you—”

“You hear what happened today?” I sat forward, just a little incredulous.

“You mean about the pastor? Yes, I heard something. He get shot at the Chaunceys’? I sure hope Miranda had nothing to do with it . . .” She sniffed and took a long drink of tea.

Before I could fill my clueless sister in, Hunter walked out from the house and almost fell into one of the metal lawn chairs. He had enough strength to inhale two sandwiches then lean back and eye us, one by one.

“So first off,” he said, looking around the table again, “we’ve got to figure out who knew the pastor was going to the Chaunceys’. Or even that he was coming to town in the first place.”

Miss Amelia sat up, feet together, hands in her lap. She thought awhile then dismissed an idea and went on to a new thought, then on to another. Finally she said, “Seems like it would have had to be me letting the cat out of the bag. I’m the one called the Chaunceys.”

“From where? Anybody overhear you making arrangements?”

“Not that I know of. Let me see, where was I when I called?” She thought awhile. “Why, from your apartment, Lindy. Nobody could have heard anything.”

“What about the Chaunceys themselves?” Hunter pressed on. “They seemed kind of excited about having the parson come to stay with them. You think one of them would have said something to somebody?”

Miss Amelia shook her head. “They knew it had to be kept a big secret. Think you could’ve put a gun to the head of either one of the twins and they wouldn’t have said anything.”

“That kind of leaves you, Lindy.” He turned to me as I was expecting since I’d been racking my brains as to who might have overheard me telling Hunter.

“Told you at the Barking Coyote. But I remember checking before I said anything to make sure nobody was close enough to hear what I said.”

Bethany looked up quickly. “You went to the Barking Coyote, Lindy? I thought we weren’t supposed to go there, something about being standard bearers for the family. Isn’t that right, Meemaw?”

Miss Amelia gave her youngest granddaughter a long, hard look. “Lindy was there with Hunter, Bethany. They’re working on who poisoned Parson Jenkins. They weren’t there to have fun.”

I squirmed, remembering our dance, but added nothing to Meemaw’s defense.

“What about that white Malibu that was behind us on the way out to the Chaunceys’?” Miss Amelia asked.

I thought very hard. “And one other time, there was a white car sticking right behind me there in town. But I can’t swear it was a Malibu.”

Bethany sat up, her head turning back and forth, from me to Miss Amelia.

“What about a white Malibu?” she demanded, frowning hard, then sticking a finger into her mouth and biting at the nail.

“A car like that was behind us on the way out to the girls’ ranch this morning,” Hunter told her. “Probably nothing. Just don’t want to miss anything important—”

“Jeffrey rented a white Malibu that day we went to Columbus. You remember.” She turned to face me.

I shrugged, remembering no such thing. Hunter was quiet. Finally he turned to Bethany. “You know where he rented it? I thought he was using a ranch vehicle. That’s what I saw him driving.”

She shrugged. “That’s what Justin gave him.”

“A white Malibu wasn’t much better,” Bethany said, but in a subdued voice. “I think he rented it over at Avery’s Car Rental.”

“Does he have it now?”

“I haven’t seen him today. He could.”

Hunter stood. “Think I’d better check with Avery.”

I put a hand out to stop him. Something had been crawling around in my head. A very small memory.

“Jeffrey was there,” I said.

“Where?” Miss Amelia sat forward.

“At the Nut House. When I picked up the parson’s message that he was flying in this morning.”

“What do you mean he was there?” Miss Amelia sat up straight.

“He was standing in the doorway when I turned around. He wanted to bring some friend out to my greenhouse, show him around. I told him I had a virus out there and it was under quarantine.”

“You never had a virus. Your trees are the best anywhere. If there was anything wrong, you wouldn’t have entered them in the fair,” Meemaw sputtered.

“I know.” I half rolled my eyes at her.

“So? You were lying.” At first she looked disappointed. Then she got it.

Now she really sputtered, trying to come up with an excuse to cover her gaffe. “And a good thing, too. Can’t take any chances with those trees of yours.” She gave a quick glance Bethany’s way, but Bethany wasn’t paying attention.

“You think Jeffrey could have something to do with what’s been going on here in Riverville?” she asked in an almost breathless voice. “With somebody shooting at the parson this morning. Why, that low-down . . .”

“Watch your mouth, young lady,” Miss Amelia chided.

Bethany sat up straight. She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “What can I do to help you get him?” she asked in a husky, familiar, Blanchard voice.

Hunter looked her straight in the eye. “If you’re willing,” he said, “I’ve got a few ideas. First let’s go out to the barn and talk to Justin. Then I’ve gotta get to Avery’s Car Rental.”

That left me and Meemaw to try to make sense of what was going on.

“Jeffrey Coulter’s a stranger,” Miss Amelia kept muttering under her breath.

I thought I got what she was talking about. No stranger poisoned Parson Jenkins at the Winners’ Supper. Jeffrey Coulter wouldn’t have known about the spotted water hemlock. Jeffrey Coulter wouldn’t have known how the winners’ dishes were handled. He wouldn’t even have known Meemaw carried her entries in a ranch cooler.

Unless someone told him. Some neighbor right there in Riverville who’d know all they had to know.

Miss Amelia sat for a good fifteen minutes without saying a word. I knew better than to interrupt deep thought and tried to think a few deep thoughts of my own. Nothing much came except a slight titter of glee—I knew Jeffrey was a jerk. Hooray for my instincts.

But more than a jerk, I brought myself up fast. If he was the one who shot at Pastor Albertson—what was it all about? I didn’t think a stranger came to town in the guise of an old college chum and then randomly killed a couple of pastors.

There had to be a link between all those men. Some common thread. Maybe just a phone call—Millroy to Pastor Albertson. All I could think was that we had to talk to Pastor Albertson since he was the only one alive who could help.

Just as I was getting into some deep thought of my own, Miss Amelia stood and headed toward the door. I got up fast, almost chasing her.

“Where’re we going?”

“Ethelred’s.”

I wanted to groan. I’d been to Ethelred’s before and didn’t relish the memory of mothballs and dust and old furniture that should have ropes draped across it.

“Mind if I ask why?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know myself. I’ve just got to talk to her. There’s something going on there. Remember Jessie said she overheard people at the library talking about asking for ‘hers back,’ and wanting to look into it. I think maybe Ethelred can help with all of this and doesn’t even know it.”

*   *   *

Ethelred’s little brown house stood under a clutch of dying live oaks. I remembered the distinct underscent of mold when I’d been there last and reminded myself I was allergic to molds of all kinds, as well as perfumes and shaving lotions. She hadn’t been expecting us so her long face fell farther than ever when she answered the door and stood there looking dumbstruck.

“Well, what brings you two over to see me? I was just getting ready to drive to the Nut House, see if I could help you out any.” She opened the door and held it wide for us to walk in to stand in her crowded vestibule filled with a huge chifferobe, an umbrella stand, a side table draped with a silk banner from the Second World War, and a boot rack with no boots.

“I need to talk to you, Ethelred,” Meemaw said, not wasting time. “But first I need to know how you’re doing. They schedule the surgery?”

She shrugged. “Couple of weeks. The doctor keeps telling me I’m gonna be fine. He doesn’t see anything beyond getting the dang thyroid out—then he thinks medication will do it.” She pushed at the ratted roll of gray hair circling her head today and seemed pleased with herself.

“I’ll be fit as a fiddle come time to go to the Bahamas,” she added.

“You sign up yet?”

“No, like I told you, gotta get that money in the bank first.”

“That’s what I was wondering about, Ethelred.”

We hadn’t been asked into the parlor to take a seat, so I settled my body to stand and wait to hear what was on Miss Amelia’s mind.

“You said you invested with the church, right?”

“Sure did.”

“Now, from what I heard, people been making money hand over fist with that investment club they got going.”

“I told you to get in on it. You wouldn’t listen and now it’s too late. I went over to the church the other day and Hawley Harvey said Tyler’s distributing the funds the morning after the ground breaking. From what he says, he’s kind of got the money mixed up with the addition money right now, but it’ll all be taken care of after the ceremony.”

“I don’t understand how you all made so much money in less than a year.”

“Well, that’s why you’ve got to have trust in the men leading the fund. What I hear is a friend of Hawley’s found this overseas investment that’s paying twenty percent on every dime we put in. Invested all the church’s money, too. That’s where we got the million and a half to start the addition. With how the church is going to grow . . .”

She spread her hands wide to show how big the small church was going to get.

“We’ll have an auditorium that’ll seat ten thousand people.”

Miss Amelia narrowed her eyes. “How many members do we have now, Ethelred? Eight hundred?”

“About that.”

“Then where’s this ninety-two hundred more coming from to fill that auditorium?”

“Wish you would’ve come to some of those first meetings, ’Melia. You’d understand better if you heard Hawley explain it.”

“And what happens if you don’t get your money back?”

Ethelred snapped her thin lips shut. “I was just over there to the drugstore talking to Tyler. He told me again and again, everybody’s gonna be so happy when they see what the church board has done for them. You don’t mean to doubt Tyler’s word, do you, ’Melia?”

“You got anything to prove you’ve put money into the club, Ethelred?”

“Sure do. Not that I needed ’em. Got certificates written in gold letters. Can’t call
me
a Doubting Thomas—that’s what Hawley and Tyler, both, call people who just couldn’t get it through their heads this was the chance of a lifetime. I remember, Hawley said the Lord was bringing this to us with His own hands. Then he asked who the heck we thought we were, turning our faces away from Him?”

She closed her eyes and sank into piety. “You tell me, Amelia, who are we to turn away the gifts of the Lord?”

Meemaw made a kind of sour face then forced a smile and patted Ethelred on the back. “That’s what you believe, Ethelred, more power to you. I, for one, would rather think the Lord gave me a brain and a world of opportunity so as I could make my own way without expecting Him to dump a load of cash in my lap.”

“Well, that’s you, Amelia. What you still gotta learn is to have faith. You’ve always been some kind of skeptic. I’d say a little of your dead husband, Darnell Hastings, rubbed off on you.”

Miss Amelia smiled so wide I knew it was a sham, and I knew what was coming. “Why, bless yer heart, Ethelred. I can only hope some of that good man rubbed off on me. I can only hope to be that smart.”

On our way out the door, Meemaw thanked Ethelred for her help and told her not to go to the Nut House. She needed to rest up for that operation ahead of her. I was hoping we’d make a clean getaway but Miss Amelia had one more question for Ethelred.

She called from the front seat. “Who’d you say you talked to most about your investments? Did you say Tyler or Hawley?”

“Mostly Hawley. He’s the one telling us all to wait until the day after the ground-breaking ceremony. Be this Sunday, case you both want to come. I’m telling you, ’Melia. The excitement is sure growing. I’m not the only one in town looking at cruises and cars. Riverville’s gonna empty out for a while when people get what’s coming to them.”

*   *   *

Back out on the main road, I asked Miss Amelia if she got what she’d come for and she said she thought so.

“Where next?”

“The drugstore. Think I’ll have a little talk with Tyler Perkins.”

“Good luck with that one.” I remembered the bruising my ego took just being in a room with that supercilious man for half an hour.

Perkins Pharmacy was right at the center of town, where the bell tower stood and the streets radiated out like spokes on a wheel. There were only a few customers. Tyler was in the back, behind the drug counter, weighing and tipping potions into bottles. I knew he saw us waiting for his attention. And I also knew he’d keep us waiting just to impress us with how busy he was.

I shouldn’t have counted out Miss Amelia’s impatience. “Like to talk to you, Tyler.” She leaned over the counter and turned her head toward him.

Tyler didn’t look up. He frowned. “Have to wait a minute, Miss Amelia, got some prescriptions to fill ’fore I can stop to talk.”

“Only take a minute,” she called back sweetly.

I went from simmer to full boil faster than a microwave oven. Not Miss Amelia, who waited a full minute before leaning in again.

“Tyler, if you want me calling my business down to you there, I’ll be glad to do it. I was over talking to Ethelred. You know she hasn’t been doing so well lately and we got to talking about that money she’s got invested with the church board and—”

He was standing in front of us.

She lowered her voice.

“Ethelred says she’s getting all her money back, plus twenty percent, as soon as the ground-breaking ceremony’s over Sunday.”

“Well, the next morning. That’s true. Gotta have time to write out the checks.” He smiled one of those smiles that look like somebody drew it on with a Magic Marker. “Hawley asked everybody to keep it quiet, though. Jealousy and all of that. Wish she wouldn’t have gone around talking—”

“She didn’t go around anywhere, Tyler. We’re friends. I’m a little worried. There’s no trouble about the money the parishioners are owed, is there? I mean, that addition. From what I hear, it’s a million and a half just to begin construction.”

“True. We’ve got it all worked out. The parishioners opened their hearts and wallets and now they’re getting their just rewards. Mayor’s coming. Everybody knows it’s going to be big for Riverville, when people from all over start coming for services.”

“You musta got some of your own money out already, by the looks of that big red Cadillac out at the curb.”

“I’m president of the board, Miss Amelia. Think I owe it to people to show ’em what a little faith in the Lord will bring you.”

Miss Amelia nodded. “Yes, faith in the Lord, Tyler. That’s all it takes.”

She turned as if to walk away then turned back again.

“But you don’t have a parson yet. How you planning on bringing all these new folks in without a man preaching to them?”

“A detail, Miss Amelia. Have a new one within the month. Hawley’s been looking all across the country. Gotta be careful this time. Need a real progressive man. A great speaker. One who’ll hold on to the crowds that’ll be coming.”

“You’re not saying there was something wrong with Pastor Jenkins, are you? He was a good man.”

Tyler’s face drew in tight. “Not saying any such thing. He was a very good man. Maybe not the vibrant speaker we thought we were getting, but still a good man.”

“You hear Pastor Albertson’s back in town?”

“Heard what happened out at the Chaunceys’ place. Terrible thing. Miranda think he was a rattler?” He smirked as if he’d made a joke.

“No, someone deliberately took a couple of shots at him. Sheriff Higsby’s on it. Think they know who did it.”

“Well, good for the sheriff. Care to say who he suspects?”

“Can’t. Not yet. Still looking for him.”

He nodded a couple of times then looked back to where he’d been filling prescriptions. “Gotta get back to work, ladies. Suppose I’ll see the both of you at the ground breaking. You won’t want to miss it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it to save my life, Tyler. Why, if I’m not mistaken, the whole Blanchard family’s going to be there.” Meemaw pretended to walk off again, then turned back, leaving me going in circles. “Oh, Tyler, Hunter Austen asked to find out if he could take all your mortar and pestles in for testing.”

“What do you mean ‘testing’?” he demanded, no pretense of friendliness now.

“Why, for spotted water hemlock, of course. Somebody had to grind the stuff to put into my caviar. He says he wants to eliminate everybody he can. So I’ll tell him it’s all right for him to pick them up?”

“You tell him no such thing, Miss Amelia. I use my mortar and pestles every day. What’s he think I’ll use for grinding some of these medications I’m dispensing?” He turned back. “And you tell Hunter Austen I’d appreciate it if he comes in and does his asking himself. I don’t think it’s professional or even seemly for him to send women in to do his dirty work.”