5 A Bad Egg (18 page)

“I can do
that,” Greg said.

Ellen walked
toward us once we parked, and by the time I got out of the car, she was at my
door. “Hey there. What brings you here?”

“Victoria, I
need to talk to you,” she said solemnly.

“Fine. I’m
all yours. Would you like to come in?”

Ellen shook
her head. “Could we just sit out on the porch?”

“Sure thing,”
I said.

Greg smiled
at Ellen, and then he said, “If you two will excuse me, I’ll get started on
dinner. Ellen, you’re more than welcome to stay and eat with us. I always make
too much, anyway.”

“Thanks, but
Mom already fed me,” she said.

“Then I’ll
leave you to it,” he said as he went inside. Greg knew when I needed some
privacy, and he always respected it when I was working on a murder case.

“Now, what’s
going on?”

“I’m worried
about everyone around me,” Ellen said, the words tumbling out of her in a rush.

“Is there
anything in particular that’s bothering you?”

“Mom and Dad
are both acting so weird that it’s like I don’t even know them anymore. Add
that to Wayne’s posturing around Gordon, and I’m under more stress right now
than any one woman should have to endure.”

“How are the
kids holding up?” I asked.

“They just
lost their father, so they’re both upset, but Gordon hasn’t really been all
that much a factor in their daily lives for years, so they’re having trouble
dealing with it. It’s almost as though it happened to a stranger; do you know
what I mean?”

“Honestly, I
don’t have a clue. I’ve never been in that kind of position before.”

“And you never
want to be, either. They’re both strong. They’ll bounce back, once a little
time has passed. I just wish that I could say the same thing about myself.”

“You’re
tough, too. Never forget that. It hasn’t been easy what you’ve been doing over
the past several years. You’ve held it together better than
I
ever would have managed.”

“Victoria,
you’re the strongest woman I know. You would have handled things just fine on
your own.”

“I’m not at
all sure that’s true, but I appreciate hearing that you believe it. So, tell me
a little more about your folks, and Wayne, too. What exactly is going on with
them?”

“Mom and Dad
are both tiptoeing around each other, and it’s taken me a while to figure it
out, but I think I know why.”

I had my own
suspicions about their behavior, but I decided not to share them and find out
what conclusion Ellen had reached on her own.

“Tell me,” I
said.

“I believe
that they each think the other one might have done it,” she said.

“That’s what
I think, too,” I said.

Ellen looked
at me sharply. “You’ve seen it, too?”

“You know
that your mother confessed to killing Gordon already, don’t you?”

She was
shocked by the mere suggestion. “Please tell me that you’re kidding.”

“I wish I
could,” I said as I relayed the details of what had happened to her. “She
couldn’t remember how she killed him, though.”

“He was
struck from behind with a pipe,” Ellen said. “You’d think that would be kind of
hard to forget, especially if you’re the one who did it.”

“I’m sure
that her confession was motivated by love,” I said. “She was just trying to
protect you.”

“How, by
making me look guilty?” Ellen asked. “That’s just like Mom, trying to take
every bullet that’s meant for me.”

“Both of your
parents love you,” I said.

“I know they
do. As a matter of fact, I’m surprised that Dad hasn’t confessed, too.”

“Maybe he was
waiting until he found out what really happened to Gordon so he could get his
facts straight,” I said with a grin.

“You could be
right,” Ellen said. “Save us from our parents, right?”

“I don’t
know. I think we both got pretty lucky in that respect.”

“So do I,”
Ellen said.

“Tell me
about Wayne,” I suggested.

She let out a
grunt of frustration. “He’s been trying to be macho ever since Gordon first hit
him. I think the blow to his pride stung a lot more than the punch. I’m
concerned that he might have done something drastic to regain his self-respect.
The day Gordon was murdered, I tried to tell Wayne that I didn’t care if he
could win a fistfight or not, but I don’t think that he believed me.”

“You told me
earlier that you were with him the afternoon of the murder. Do you remember
what time it might have been?” Ellen had some rather large holes in her alibi,
significant time that she’d spent alone on the day of the murder.

“Like I said
before, I had Dad pick the kids up,” she admitted. “I’ve been doing that every
so often so that Wayne and I could have some time together. I’ve been putting
together some nice picnic baskets, and we’ve been stealing a little time
together every day.”

“Ellen, this is
very important. When
exactly
did you
see him the day Gordon was murdered?”

She thought
about it for nearly thirty seconds before she answered, and then she said, “We
got together about one forty five, and Wayne had to get back to the shop by
three fifteen. Normally he’s never gone that long, but I needed him that day,
and he was willing to take some extra time off so I could talk things out.”

“That’s
wonderful news,” I said as I reached for my cellphone.

“Yes, he’s an
excellent shoulder to cry on.” She looked at me oddly as I started to dial.
“What’s going on? Who are you going to call and tell
that
to?”

“I’m phoning
the sheriff. This is perfect. It’s going to take you two off his list.”

“I don’t
understand,” Ellen said.

“They’ve been
able to narrow the window for Gordon’s murder since the last time we spoke. He
was killed between two and three in the afternoon, and from what you said, you
two were together the entire time. There’s just one thing before I call the
sheriff and tell him, though. Is there anyone else who can substantiate the
fact that you two were together the entire time?”

Ellen frowned
as she thought about it. “We were at the park, so I doubt that anyone could
verify it one way or the other. Sorry. I’m not going to be able to do you much
good.”

That was
disappointing, but I wasn’t ready to give up yet. “Think hard, Ellen. That park
is never empty, especially on a beautiful afternoon like the day of the murder
was. Are you telling me that no one can confirm that you were there together?”

“No one,” she
said, and then Ellen frowned. “Hang on a second. That’s not entirely true.
There’s one witness who was near us the entire time. Whether she noticed us at
all is up for debate, though.”

“What’s her
name?” I asked. This could be the one crucial piece of evidence that would get
her off the hook.

“It was Crazy
Betty,” she said. “She was doing crossword puzzles on the bench closest to our
picnic blanket the entire time. You know how obsessed she gets over things.”

I did,
indeed. Betty Cliburn, affectionately known as Crazy Betty around town, had a
streak of obsessive/compulsive disorder that was just below the level requiring
medication. When she narrowed her laser focus to a new hobby or interest, she
lived and breathed it with everything that she had. Then one day, without rhyme
or reason, she’d drop it cold and never revisit it again. So far, she’d knitted
until her fingers bled, read everything written by a dozen different cozy
mystery authors, and she was now going through crossword puzzles in a blaze of
speed. “It’s how she copes with Cliff’s death,” I said. “Betty has never really
learned how to get along without him.”

“I don’t know
if she saw us or not, but we were there, Victoria.”

“I’m sure the
sheriff can track her down and ask her,” I said. “You don’t have any objections
about me calling him, do you?”

“Are you
kidding? If you can get me off his list of murder suspects, I’ll sing your
praises to the world, and I’d be forever grateful.”

“Well, save
your singing voice, because I haven’t done
anything
yet,” I said. “Give me one second.”

I finished
dialing the sheriff’s number, and he finally picked up after six rings.

“Is this a
bad time?” I asked him.

“No, it’s
fine. What’s new since the last time we spoke, though? Surely nothing
substantial has changed in the past half hour.”

“You’d be
surprised. I now have an alibi for Ellen and Wayne, but it’s going to take a
little legwork on your part to confirm.”

“That’s what
we’re good at,” the sheriff said. “You know me. I’m not afraid of a little hard
work.”

“Okay, here
goes. Ellen and Wayne snuck away to the park from one forty-five to three
fifteen on the afternoon of the murder to have some time together. Ellen needed
a shoulder to cry on, and Wayne was more than happy to supply it.”

“That’s all
well and good, but unless someone else saw them there together, it’s not going
to do any of us much good.”

“That’s the
thing. Betty Cliburn was on a park bench nearby doing her crossword puzzles.
Ellen swears that the woman was there the entire time,” I explained.

“She might
have been sharing their blanket, but that doesn’t mean that Betty saw them. You
know how she gets when she’s working on something.”

“You’re still
going to ask her, though, aren’t you?” I asked.

“Of course I
will. I’m just saying that you shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“Sorry, but
it’s a bit too late for that.”

“I’ll talk to
her right now. Do you have anything else for me?”

I thought
about conveying what Ellen had told me about her parents, but I really didn’t have
anything to share on that front yet. “Hey, you said it yourself. We haven’t
been apart all that long.”

“You can’t
blame me for asking,” he replied.

“Would you do
me a favor?” I asked him while I still had him on the line.

“Maybe,” he
answered cagily. I knew the sheriff was too savvy to make a blanket promise
without hearing what it was first.

“Don’t worry.
This is an easy one. I’d just appreciate a telephone call after you talk to
Betty, one way or the other. It would be nice to know if Ellen and Wayne are
off your list.”

“I can do
that,” the sheriff said. “It might be late, though. If I can’t find her
tonight, I might have to ask her in the morning.”

“Just as long
as you let me know what’s going on, we’re good.”

“Okay, I’ll
see what I can do. And Victoria?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks for
the tip.”

“You’re
welcome,” I said, but it was to a dead phone.

The sheriff
had already hung up.

“What did he
say?” Ellen asked me.

“He’s going
to talk to Betty, and then he’ll touch base with me. It might be tomorrow,
though, so we need to be patient.”

“I can wait
as long as I need to,” she said. “I just hope that she saw us there. It would
simplify so many things if she did.”

“I hope so,
too. Ellen, are you sure that you don’t want to come in for a bite, and some
company? You know that Greg wouldn’t mind.”

“No, I’d
better be going,” she said as she stood. “I’ve stayed away from my family as
long as I dare. They need me right now.”

“Give them my
love, would you?”

“I will, and
thanks for that from me,” she said.

“You’re very
welcome,” I answered sincerely.

After Ellen
was gone, I thought about the most recent developments with the case. Ellen and
Wayne might be off the hook if Betty confirmed their alibi, but her parents
were still active members of my suspect list, and what she’d told me hadn’t
eased my mind, either.

Chapter 15

“You’re not
going in there,” I heard a voice say threateningly as Sam Jackson stepped out
of the shadows and tried to keep me from going into The Charming Moose the next
morning.

“It’s going to
take more than you to stop me,” I said as I started to push past him. It was
just before six a.m., and there wasn’t much traffic out. To most folks driving
past the diner, it probably looked as though Sam and I were just having
ourselves a nice little chat.

They would
have been mistaken.

“That’s where
you’re wrong,” Sam said. “Listen, we can do this the hard way, or we can do it
easy. In the end, it makes no difference to me.”

“I’m not
going to make killing me easy for you,” I said harshly. “If you want my life,
you’re going to have to fight for it.”

“
Kill
you? Where did you get that idea?”
Jackson asked me, clearly surprised by my reaction.

“You ambush
me at my diner in the early hours when no one else is around and you threaten
me,” I said. “Why wouldn’t I think that you meant me harm? I’m just telling you
that if that’s your goal, I’m not about to make it easy for you.”

“I want to
talk. That’s it, Victoria. Just talk.”

“Then wait
one minute for me to get set up inside and then come on in,” I said as I pushed
past him. I had my keys out and the door unlocked before he could process the
new information. I thought about slamming it shut behind me and locking him on
the outside, but what if he was telling the truth? I had a suspect who was
willing to discuss Gordon Murphy’s murder with me. Talking was what I did best.
After I overcame my impulse to protect my mother and myself, I walked in back
and smiled at Mom.

“You got here
early,” I said as I hung my jacket up.

“Your husband
isn’t the only one in the family who likes to play with recipes,” she said. “I
thought that I’d have a little fun.”

I took a deep
breath, and as I did, I smelled something divine baking. “Is that cornbread?”