A Crying Shame: A Jesse Watson Mystery (19 page)

“I don’t see a patrol car or an undercover car parked out
there anywhere, but the security officer who patrols the neighborhood has
circled the block three times in the last thirty minutes. That means he’s on
the lookout. We have to time it just right or you’ll get caught for sure.”

“We’re going in through the back door.”

“We are?” Claire said.

“You can’t go in through the front door,” Abby said. “Babs
will be watching Carl’s house like a hawk. It wouldn’t surprise me if she
doesn’t venture out in the night and snoop around.”

“Then we’re going to need someone to sit in the study and
monitor the grounds,” I said. I turned to Abby. “You said you can hear people
talking. Can you also use your system to speak out like you were using a
megaphone or a bullhorn?”

“My system can do everything. Why?”

“Will you stay here and watch the monitors?” I asked Randy.

“You don’t think I’m leaving the four of you alone, do you?”

“Good,” I said. “If you should see anything suspicious like
Babs hiding in the bushes, I want you to get on the P.A. system and yell at
her. I don’t care what you say, but you have to get rid of her. If a cop comes
up and walks around the place, I want you to set off the alarm on Abby’s car.
We should be able to hear it inside the house.”

“You can, “Isabel said. “When Carl bought that new sports
car, he kept setting the alarm off accidentally. We heard it all the way over
here, and his garage is on the other side of the house.”

“Are there any other signals we need to discuss before we
venture out into the night?”

My cell phone in my purse went off and startled us all.

“Lord, what is that?” Isabel asked, her hands starting to
shake.

“Oh, no, it’s my cell phone,” I said as I walked back into
the parlor and dug into my purse. Billy’s name came up on my Caller ID. I
looked back at everyone and said, “I don’t think this is going to be good.”

“Just hurry up and answer it,” Abby said. “I’m getting hot in
this coat.”

“Take it off, silly,” Isabel said.

I put my finger to my mouth and whispered for everyone to be
quiet as I flipped open the phone. “Hello, honey,” I said in a low voice as if
I was on the verge of going to sleep. “Is everything all right?”

“I was afraid you had convinced Claire to do something
illegal, and I just wanted to make sure that I was wrong, and the two of you
were safely tucked away in one of Abigail’s beds.”

“Actually, we were just hanging around chit-chatting. You
know how women can be when they get together and talk about men.”

“I hope you’re having a good time.”

“Oh, I am. Abby is a wonderful hostess, and so is her sister,
Isabel. We had steak for dinner and cheesecake afterwards. I didn’t eat the
cake, because I’m watching my waistline.”

“We’re watching it, too.”

“Go to bed. We’re doing fine and we haven’t been arrested,
yet.”

“What?”

“I was just kidding, Billy. How’s everybody there?”

“Your mother is so good with children and the animals. She
has this place working like a fine-tuned guitar. The kids are in bed and the
animals are asleep by the fire. I’m rocking Maisy at the moment.”

The vision I had in my head of Billy rocking a small infant
to sleep brought tears to my eyes.

“I wish I was there to see that,” I said. “I’ll let you go so
you can put Maisy to bed. Thanks for calling, Billy. We’ll talk when I get
home. I love you.”

Billy said good-bye and broke the connection.

“Are you okay, my dear?” Abby asked as she walked up to me
and put her tiny arm around my shoulder. “Why are you crying?”

“That was Billy,” I said. “I love him so much. I never
thought I could love someone like that. Sometimes it scares me.”

“Don’t be afraid, my dear,” Abby said. “Embrace those feelings
and never let go. I miss Pete when he’s not around, too, so I know how you
feel. We’ve been happily married for fifty years.”

I dried my tears on my sleeve and said, “Where is Pete?”

“He’s out of town on business,” Abby said, winking at me.
“That’s what he told me, but I know he went to play some golf. I don’t know why
men feel they have to have an excuse to do what they want to do. I didn’t go
with him because I knew he’d spend all of his time on the golf course. I’d
rather be at home. Look at what I would’ve missed if I’d been gone.”

“You might change your mind about that before the night is
over.” I scanned the room. “Let’s get our plan straight. Randy will watch the
grounds. If Babs shows up, scare her pants off by yelling at her through the
P.A. system. If the security guard shows up and gets out of his vehicle, set
off Abby’s car alarm. If we encounter serious trouble—like Detective Trainum or
one of his men showing up, call my cell phone.” I looked at Abby. “Do you have
a cell phone?”

“I sure do,” she said. “And so does Isabel.”

“Don’t forget me,” Randy said. “I have one, too.”

“Can you program my number in Abby and Isabel’s phone and
then put their numbers in mine?”

“Sure,” he said. “It’ll only take me a minute.” He took our
phones and went to work. A few minutes later, he was giving us instructions on
his handiwork. We were set to go.

“Are we ready?”

“Jesse, we need a coat,” Claire said. “I didn’t bring an
extra one.”

I looked at Abby and said. “What do you have that we can
wear?”

“I don’t know. Let’s see.”

We walked to the hall closet and looked inside. I grabbed a
quilted flannel jacket for myself and a woman’s down coat for Claire.

“That’s Pete’s work jacket,” Abby said. “I’m sure you’d
rather have something nicer than that.”

“I’m fine with this, Abby. We’re going to need a couple of
handkerchiefs. Does Pete have any?”

“He’s a refined man,” Abby said. “Of course, he does.” Abby
motioned to Isabel who immediately turned and left the room.

“You sound like my mother,” I said. “Mom says that a well-bred
man always carries a handkerchief.”

“I keep telling my son the same thing, but he doesn’t listen
to me.”

“Why do we need handkerchiefs?” Claire asked.

“Remember that horrible smell in the house?”

“Yes, I certainly do,” she replied. It’s not an odor one soon
forgets.”

“It’s still there.”

Claire turned up her nose, made a face and asked, “How long
do you think the odor will linger?”

“Until someone comes in and cleans up the mess. You’ll have
to hire a professional to get rid of the smell, or you could open all the
windows for the next six months and maybe some of it will dissipate. Depending
on how long the body has been there, determines how long it will take to get
rid of the stench. The smell of death hangs in the air long after the body has
been removed. It gets into the walls and the furniture and is almost impossible
to get rid of. The longer the stench is allowed to linger, the harder it will
be to eradicate.”

“Actually, they do have companies out there you can hire to
come out and clean up a crime scene,” Abby said. “They use some pretty
heavy-duty chemicals to sanitize the place after they clean up the blood, guts,
gore, tissue…”

“I understand,” Claire said, obviously repulsed at the
thought.

Isabel returned with two white handkerchiefs and handed them
to us.

“Thanks,” I said to her. I stuffed mine in the pocket of my
jeans, and told Claire to do the same. Then I stuffed my cell phone in my
jacket. I reached over and pulled my gloves from the pocket of my jacket that
Abby was wearing and then looked at Claire. She got my message. She ran to the
parlor and got her gloves out of her purse. When she returned, I asked my
partners in crime, “Are we ready?”

“Let me check the monitors and do a quick sweep of the area
one more time before you leave,” Randy said. “It’ll only take a couple of
minutes.”

Randy left the room. We stood in the hallway and waited for
his return.

“Oops, I almost forgot,” I said as I turned to Abby. “Do you
have a flashlight?”

Isabel immediately left the room and then returned with a
flashlight.

“Thanks,” I said when she handed it to me. I looked at Abby.
“It’s kind of weird to have someone at your beck and call.”

“I can see you’ve never had servants,” Abby said.

“Shame on you, Abigail,” Isabel admonished her. “You don’t
call the hired help servants. They’re called housekeepers, butlers, assistants,
gardeners, handy man, or whatever… but you don’t called them servants. I know
you have more sense than that. We’re not living in 1865. We don’t own slaves
anymore. Your problem is that you have too much money. It makes you act like a
selfish brat.”

“What are you getting so mad about? You’re not the hired
help.”

“That’s right. I’m your sister, but you treat me like the
hired help. It’s getting old. I figured if I let you have your way, we’d be
able to get along, but instead you’ve become insufferable. Now stop treating me
with such disrespect, or I’m leaving. Just because I don’t have a husband
anymore, it doesn’t mean that I’m incapable of living alone. You asked me to
move in so we could be together, but the minute I did, you started treating me
badly. I thought you’d grow out of it. You act like… what’s that word… oh,
yeah… diva. Diva! Diva!”

“Okay,” Abby said. “I didn’t realize you were so sensitive.”

“I’m not sensitive,” Isabel said. “I’m bored with your bad
behavior. Get over yourself and act decent. You’re getting on my nerves.”

“Okay,” Abby said. “I’ll behave myself if you stop calling me
a diva.”

“Every time you say or do something obnoxious, I’m going to
call you Abigail the Diva! Did you know that the only reason I cook for you is
because your cooking is horrible? It’s awful. The first time I ate your chili,
I almost died from heartburn. I burped garlic for two days!”

“Typical sisters,” I said to them. “You two are just like us.
We fight over the silliest things, but when it comes down to the important
stuff, we usually work it out. Maybe you could work on your attitude, Abby, and
Isabel; I suggest you put Abby in her place when she turns into a diva.”

“I shrill at the thought!” Abby responded as she turned her
back to Isabel. She lowered her voice and said, “Isabel’s only talking like
this because you two are here. She’s just showing off.”

“It’s time to go, ladies,” Randy said as he came back into
the hallway. “The security car just passed, so we have about ten minutes for
you to get from here, through the yard, and then into the house before he’ll be
coming around again.”

“Let’s roll,” Abby said.

“Make sure that your cell phone is on,” Randy instructed as
he looked from one of us to the other. “I’ve programmed all of them so that all
you have to do is punch the number five, and the call will come straight to me.
I’ve decided to use me as the home base instead of you all trying to call each
other. It could get hectic. Keep in touch with me for an update, and I’ll keep
my eyes open for trouble. My main concern is that we don’t get caught, and no
one gets hurt.” He looked at Abby. “Drive carefully. You don’t have any special
place to go. All you want to do is kill time—not yourselves.” He turned and
looked at Claire and me. “If you get caught, you could become a suspect in this
murder. Stranger things have happened.”

“I could tell you a few strange stories, myself,” I said.

“She’s not kidding about that,” Claire agreed.

“Okay, I guess we’re ready,” Randy said. “Be careful.”

Claire removed a key from the ring and then handed Abby her
car keys. After a quick explanation in the use of its gadgets, we were on our
way. Abby and Isabel went out the front door as we went out the back. Randy
returned to the study to man the surveillance monitors.

When Claire and I walked out the door, I had no idea that
this simple plan would turn out to be not so simple after all. I should’ve
known better.

The dark air was frigid and the snow pelted our faces as we sneaked out the back door of Abby’s
house. By now, the snow was at least four inches deep. I was glad that I had
worn my boots, but poor Claire had on leather tennis shoes and I knew it
wouldn’t be long before her feet would get cold.

“Lead the way,” I said to her. “Hurry.”

We crouched down and trudged through snow and unforeseeable
objects hidden by a blanket of the white stuff, until we got to the back door
of Carl’s house. We had to crawl under the crime scene tape to avoid disturbing
it. My body ached and my back was stiff by the time Claire slipped the key into
the lock. A clink later and we were inside what used to be her laundry room.

“Disregard the fact that this is a crime scene. If you were
going to reconcile with your husband, you would have every right to be here,” I
said as I shook the snow from my clothes. “But since the two of you are going
through a divorce…”

“Disregarding the fact that this is a crime scene, it
wouldn’t matter,” Claire said. “I get the house in the divorce.”

“What’s Carl doing living here if the house is going to be
yours?”

“When I left him, he moved back in. He was staying in a
penthouse at one of those high-priced hotels. I guess it got a little too
pricey even for him. During the divorce negotiations, I agreed to let him stay
because I was living with Mom, and I was happy. I still am, and so are the
kids.”

“Let’s talk about this later,” I whispered. “Let’s hurry up
and get out of here. I feel funny in this house.” I pulled my handkerchief from
my pocket and held it up to my nose. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Without warning, several lights in the house came on.

Claire and I ducked down quickly.

“Timer,” we both said. We stared at each other.

“It’s okay,” Claire said. “I know which lights come on, so I
know how to maneuver around them.” She pulled her handkerchief from her pocket,
put it to her nose, and then started walking. She moved with her back to the
wall as I followed. A couple of minutes later, we were standing in a dark
library. “This room isn’t on the timer, but we’ll have plenty of light from the
hallway. The wall safe is behind Robert E. Lee’s picture. Carl’s a history buff
and he’s a true southerner. He always said that a person wasn’t a true
southerner if they didn’t have a picture of General Robert E. Lee hanging on
their wall.”

“I’m glad to see that Carl has strong convictions about
something, because he surely wasn’t much in the husband department.”

“How right you are,” Claire responded without hesitation.
“His parenting skills are sorely lacking, also.”

“Where’s this picture you’re talking about?” I was getting
edgier by the minute. I pulled my handkerchief down for a brief second and
discovered that the smell wasn’t as bad as it had been earlier. It was
unpleasant, but I didn’t feel like I was going to puke any second. I replaced
the handkerchief and looked around the room. Claire was standing by the
general.

“This painting is called The Christian General,” Claire said.
“I rather like it because it shows the general reading the bible to a little
boy who has fallen asleep in his arms.”

“Is it his son?”

“Oh, no,” Claire replied as she pulled the picture back on
its hinges. She leaned in and punched several keys. “General Lee’s sons, Rooney
and Fitzhugh, were generals in the army. I think that’s their names.”

“How do you know so much about history?”

“I listened to Carl a lot. At parties, men love to talk about
stuff like that. I’ve gotten quite an education from all their yapping. As for
the little boy in the picture, the story I was told was that he gave that bible
to the general. There’s more to it, but right now, I can’t concentrate on that
and break into this safe at the same time.”

“I understand,” I whispered.

Claire grabbed the handle, turned it and the door opened. She
reached in, pulled out a stack of money and handed it to me. She pulled out
several more stacks.

“We might need a bag if you plan to take all this. I’m
running out of arm space, considering I have one arm in a cast.”

“I’m taking everything before the police get a warrant and
force me to open the safe.”

“What makes you think they even know about the safe?”

“They probably don’t, but I’m not taking any chances. There’s
stuff in here that I know Carl wouldn’t want to fall into the wrong hands. I
don’t know why he left it in the first place. He should’ve taken it with him.”

“You don’t think Carl is dead?”

“I don’t anymore,” Claire said as she continued to empty the
safe. “When I found out that wasn’t Carl in the wine cellar, I started paying
attention to what you had to say. You were right about that, so I figure you
could be right about a lot of other things.”

“I’m glad you’ve found confidence in my judgment.”

“I think you have good intuition,” Claire said. “More than
once you’ve had a feeling about something and I didn’t believe you then, but I
do, now.”

“In that case, I think we need to get out of here right now.”

Claire looked around the room and then down at the floor. She
reached over, picked up the empty trash container, and began throwing stuff
from the safe into it. I joined in and dumped the stacks of money into it,
also. Claire closed the safe door, punched in a few numbers, and then replaced
the picture of the general to its original location. She picked up the trash
container and we headed out. We inched our way down the hallway and out the
back door. We were almost home-free and ten steps from Abby’s back door when I
tripped over something and landed on my knees. The jolt to my body was
excruciating. With only one good arm to break my fall, I landed hard.

“I bet you tripped over that tree stump,” Claire said.
“Abigail lost a tree in a hurricane a while back and the guy who cut up the
tree was supposed to grind up the stump, but he never did come back. I guess
she never got anyone else back out to do the job.”

“What’s this?” I asked as I picked up a fireplace poker. A
bloody rag was wrapped around it. I stared at Claire in disbelief. “I think we
have us a murder weapon.”

Claire looked at the poker. “Jesse, I think that poker
belongs to our set.”

“Are you sure?”

She bent down and looked a bit closer. “I’m sure of it.” She
looked around, scanning the area to see if anyone was watching. “Are you okay,
Jesse? Can you get up and walk?”

“Yeah, I think I can. I didn’t hear anything snap when I
fell. Let’s get moving. I’m taking this with us.”

“I sure hope so,” Claire said.

I grabbed the poker, the bloody rag and then pushed myself up
by my legs. I glanced to the left for a split second and saw the security
guard’s vehicle coming up the road.

“Run, Claire!” I yelled.

We took off running and were inside Abby’s laundry room
before the guard had a chance to see us. I slammed the door and leaned up
against it.

“That was a close call,” I said. I looked around. “Wow, what
a huge room. It’s as big as my bedroom. I could do some serious laundry in
here.”

“Either I’m wet from the snow, or I peed in my pants,” Claire
said as she looked down and felt her pants. “Oh, thank you, Lord! I didn’t pee
myself.” She laughed and then kept on laughing. The stress of breaking into a
house must have been too much for her. She was uncontrollable.

Randy walked into the room and asked, “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t think she’s laughing because of anything that’s
funny; I think its stress-induced laughter.”

Randy walked over to Claire and put his arms around her.
Immediately, she began to get a grip on herself. Her laughter finally ceased.

“What happened?” he asked.

She looked at him and said, “I think Jesse tripped over the
murder weapon.”

Randy stepped back and said, “What?”

“I think we found the murder weapon,” I said as I raised my
arm and showed him the poker and rag. It’s a little faded, but I’m sure this is
probably blood on the rag.”

“It’s pink; not red,” Claire said, looking closer.

“It’s been out in the snow,” Randy said. He looked at me.
“When did Carl turn up missing?”

“The day Billy and I got home from our honeymoon… actually
later, in the middle of the night,” I replied. “That was over a week ago, or
maybe eight or nine days.”

“You’ve had a busy life,” he said. “Mother told me about Carl
stealing the kids and the subsequent rescue by a band of Indians. Don’t take
what I just said wrong. My mother has a vivid way of telling a story.”

“She does appear to be a colorful character.”

“Back to the bloody rag,” Randy said. “There’s been snow on
the ground for two weeks. That explains why the rag’s pink; it got wet. I
don’t understand why the police didn’t find it during their search of the
grounds.”

“I found the poker in Abby’s yard,” I said. “The police
probably didn’t search her property.”

“You can count on that,” he said. “If they had, I’d be
holding the search warrant in my hand. I don’t let anything get by me.”

“I bet you don’t,” Claire said with a smile. Her attempt at
flirting with Randy was so obvious. I ignored her batting eyelashes and the
sway of her hips.

“We have to call the police,” I said as I watched Claire act
like a teenager trying to capture the attention of her new guy. “Right now!” I
said loudly. My voice brought both of them back down to earth.

Randy looked at me, stood quietly for a minute, and then said,
“To avoid further contamination, we need to bag the evidence.” He turned to
Claire and said, “Go to the kitchen and find a large trash bag. My mother’s a
neat-freak, so you shouldn’t have a problem finding one.” He looked back at me
as Claire put her trash container down and left the room. “I’m glad you wore
gloves.”

“I’m married to a good private investigator,” I said. “He
taught me all I know. I went to night school and took online courses so I could
be a P.I., too. We’re a team now; in more ways than one.”

“I know,” he said. “My mother formed a bond with your mother
on the telephone. She knows a bit about your family. When she gets bored, she
calls me. I hear it all. I know she was glad to meet you, and I’m sure she was
glad to see Claire again. Claire’s the only person in the neighborhood that she
would have anything to do with. When Claire left, Mother was sad, but once
Isabel came to stay, it’s been a big comfort to me.”

“What about Pete? Doesn’t Abby like being with him?”

“He’s gone a lot,” Randy said. “Mother gets bored with his
meetings and golfing. They’re happy. That’s what matters, right?”

“I guess so,” I said.

Claire returned with a large, black trash bag and handed it
to Randy. He, in turn, opened the bag while I gently placed the poker and the
rag in it. He tied the end shut and laid the bag down on the washing machine.
He then walked over to the wall phone and punched in a few numbers. When his
conversation was finished, he walked back over to us and said, “Mother and
Isabel were at the 7-11. They should be here any minute. I think we should lock
the back door.” He walked over to the door and turned the lock. “Let’s wait in
the parlor and when Mother and Isabel return, we’ll call the police.”

Claire picked up her container of goodies and we headed to
the parlor.

I felt stiff from my fall. My back ached and by the time I
got to the parlor, I felt nauseated. “I need to sit down,” I said, wiping the
sweat from my forehead.

Claire immediately came to my aid. “Are you all right, Jesse?
It isn’t the baby, is it?” She had a terrified look on her face.

“I’m okay,” I said. “I just need to sit down. I looked up at
Randy and said. “May I have a glass of water?”

“Sure,” he said. He left the room. Seconds later he returned.

I gulped the water down. “Thanks,” I said.

“Do you think you should be running all over town and getting
into stuff like this in your condition?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “It’s just that sometimes I get a
little morning sickness at night.”

He laughed. “Isn’t that an oxymoron?”

“I guess you could say…”

Abby and Isabel came bursting through the front door.

“Someone’s been following us!” Abby yelled.

“What do you mean you think you’re being followed?” Randy
asked.

“I noticed him the minute we pulled out of the driveway. If I
didn’t know better, I’d swear it was Carl.”

“How can you say that?” Isabel asked. “You didn’t get a good
look at his face. You said so, yourself.” She walked into the parlor, looked at
me and Claire and then said, “She’s full of it. She makes up stuff.”

“I’ve changed my mind. It’s Carl; I’m sure of it,” Abby said
as she followed Isabel into the parlor and then took off my coat.