A Peach of a Murder (19 page)

Somewhat to her surprise, Phyllis found herself sitting the neat day outside the office of George Hayes, the principal of Weatherford High School. She had known George since he was a PE

teacher and coach at the junior high, before he had gone on to be the head football coach at the high school, then vice principal, and ultimately principal. For a while there, the trend in education had been not to promote from within, so that every time an administrative position opened up, an outsider had been brought in to fill it. Phyllis had never agreed with that stance and was glad that it was less prevalent than it once had been. Promoting from within kept good people like George Hayes in the district instead of forcing them to seek advancement elsewhere.

Phyllis wasn't quite sure why she was here. She kept telling herself that it was none of her business.

But it was for her own peace of mind, she supposed, that she wanted to know if the rumors about Jani Garrett were true. Ttvo days after being run down in the parking lot, the young teacher was still alive but in critical condition, although the doctors were beginning to be guardedly optimistic about her chances for survival.

Unlike a doctor's office, there were no old magazines in the little waiting room outside the principal's office. The receptionist and the secretary were both gone at the moment, running errands elsewhere in the school, so Phyllis was alone. She passed the time by looking around. She hadn't spent much time in this school-hardly any, in fact. Even though it had been open for a few years, everything still had the gloss of newness on it. Eventually the thousands of students who would pass through here over the years would give the place a life of its own, perhaps, but right now Phyllis didn't care much for it. It just didn't feel lived-in.

Which was silly, of course, because people didn't live at school, she thought. This was just a place where they came for a period of time each day during certain seasons of year.

And yet it was more than that, although she knew that anyone who hadn't devoted their life to education would never understand all the nuances of it. A good school really was like a home away from home for the people who worked there.

A bad school, of course, was more like hell on earth. The sound of loud, angry voices startled her out of her reverie. She sat forward in her chair and looked along the hall toward the door of George's office. It was closed, but it wasn't soundproof enough to keep the sound of outrage in.

Phyllis couldn't make out most of the words, but she heard "that woman" and "shameful" and

"lawsuit" A few minutes later, the door opened and a man and a woman came out of the office.

Both of them looked angry, the woman more so than the man. In fact, she looked mad enough to chew nails. The way the man had hold of her arm told Phyllis they were probably husband and wife. With their faces set in taut lines, they stalked past Phyllis and left the school office.

George Hayes stepped out into the hall, lines of strain etched on his beefy face. He still wore his hair in the same crew cut that he had sported for as long as Phyllis had known him, only it was gray now instead of brown. He looked exactly like what he was: a football coach turned administrator.

"Phyllis," he said as he saw her sitting there. He smiled, but that didn't completely relieve the tense look on his face. "What are you doing herein'

"I was wondering if you could give me a few minutes, George." Back in the old days, she had occasionally called him Gabby, since he had the same name as the old cowboy movie sidekick Gabby Hayes, but she didn't think this was really the time or place for that.

"Sure, I can always make a little time for an old friend," he said. He held out a hand to usher her in.

When they were both sitting down, George grimaced and said, "I guess you heard the uproar going on in here before." "Upset parents?" If he wanted to talk about it, that was fine with Phyllis, because she had a feeling from what little she had overheard that the argument had something to do with the same thing that had brought her here.

"Yeah. Ever since Jani Garrett"got hurt in the parking lot the other day, certain things have come out that have people blowing their tops. By the way, I saw you out there in the parking lot that day, but with all the confusion going on, I didn't get a chance to say hello."

Phyllis smiled. "Don't worry about that. I know you had your plate full."

"Yeah, and it's getting fuller all the time," he said with a sigh. "That was Mr. and Mrs. Dietrich who just left. Parents of Shawn Dietrich, who'll probably be the starting quarterback on the football team this fall ... if I don't wind up having to expel him."

Phyllis raised her eyebrows. "Expel him? For what?" "Having an inappropriate relationship with a teacher." "Jani Garfett."

George nodded. "Yeah. And the Dietrichs aren't the only parents who've come in here to see me about the same thing. That gal ... sorry, that woman ... whatever you call her, she cut a pretty wide swath through the male students. Their parents are just finding out about it, and they're plenty mad, especially the mamas."

"You can't blame them for not wanting their innocent little boys corrupted."

George grunted scornfully. "Innocent, my hind foot. I tell you, Phyllis, if you knew what went on in the schools these days ... well, you should just be glad that you retired when you did, that's all I've got to say. Another couple of years and I'll be out of here." He sighed, shook his head, and then sat up a little straighter in his chair. "Sorry, I didn't mean to go off on a tangent like that. I guess I just needed to blow off a little steam. Those parents don't realize that if they can't control their kids, I sure can't!" He held up his hands. "Wait a minute. There I go again. Tell me, Phyllis, before I rant some more ... what can I do for you?"

"I wanted to let you know that Mattie Harris won't be able to do any more tutoring for the summer school students. She's upset about what happened to Ms. Garrett, and to tell you the truth, George, her health just isn't very good these days."

The principal frowned in concern. "I'm sorry to hear that. Mattie's always been one of my favorite people. And for somebody as, ah, old as she is, the kids really respond to her pretty well."

Phyllis smiled and said, "That's because Mattie is still young at heart."

"Yeah, I suppose so. Well, I'm sorry that she won't be helping us out anymore, but the summer session has less than a week to go. It really shouldn't make any difference." He paused. "Was that the only reason you stopped by, to tell me about Mattie."

"And to say hello to an old friend."

George leaned back in his chair and grinned. "I don't suppose I could interest you in taking over and being acting principal of the high school for a while?"

"George," Phyllis said honestly, "there's not enough money in the world to get me to do that."

She felt a little uneasy about the whole thing. It was true that Mattie had asked her that morning to let George Hayes know she wasn't coming back, but Phyllis could have called the school and told George about that.

Instead she had driven out to the school to talk to him in person ... and, she might as well admit it, to confirm what Dolly Williamson had told her about the injured teacher, Jani Garrett. As luck would have it, she had seen firsthand some of the results of Jani's poor judgment. The Dietrichs had been angry and upset when they left George's office.

As Phyllis drove home, she wondered if either of them had been angry enough to get behind the wheel of a convenient car and race it straight at the woman they thought had seduced their son.

That was a crazy idea, she told herself. No one would go to such lengths just because they were upset about an illicit affair between teacher and student. At least, no one who was sane.

But she didn't know all the parents of all the students Jani Gar ett had carried on with, Phyllis reminded herself. Maybe one of them was just unbalanced enough to do such a thing. Maybe someone-like Mrs. Dietrich, say-had discovered that her son was involved with a teacher and had gone to the school to complain to the principal, or even to have a showdown with Jani herself. That parent, upon seeing Jani walking toward her, might have seized the moment, jumped into that little redheaded student's car, started it up, and gunned it right at the object of her ire. Then, having struck Jani down, it would have been simple enough for the driver to get back into her own car and drive away.

Or his car. Phyllis couldn't assume that it had been a woman who had run into Jani. But she agreed with George that it was more likely to be the mothers who were really upset about what was going on. Some fathers, no matter how they might bluster and carry on, deep down were probably a little proud of their sons for getting involved with a beautiful older woman, whether they would ever admit to such feelings or not.

By the time she got home, she hadn't reached any conclusions about what had happened to Jani Garrett, but she knew the whole situation was going to bother her until it was resolved. She wasn't sure why it was so important to her that the driver of the car be found, but it was. She supposed that everything that had happened over the summer had sharpened her appetite for justice. If Newt Bishop had indeed been murdered-and Phyllis was convinced he had-it appeared the murderer had gotten away with his crime. And since the police still had no fresh ideas about Donnie Boatwright's killer, that murder might well go unsolved, too, unless it was pinned on someone innocent, like Carolyn. Now there was the near-fatal attempt on Jani Garrett's life, and again, the suspects were numerous, and as far as Phyllis knew, the authorities weren't any closer to finding out who had done it than they had been two days earlier when the hitand-run took place.

All of that rankled Phyllis. She knew that life wasn't fair, but she liked to think that the universe was an orderly place, at least at times. Cause and effect, that was what history was. If you knew the effect, you could trace it back and discover the cause, and once you knew the cause, you knew who was responsible for the events in question. But could you ever know for sure, the skeptic in her asked, while the part of her that still had faith said that the reason was there, if you just looked hard enough. There always had to be a reason....

Her head was full of those thoughts-too full, all stuffed up like a person having an allergy attack-as she parked the Lincoln in the garage and went into the house through the kitchen. Sam wasn't at his workbench-odd how she thought of it as his workbench these days-and she didn't know where he was. Eve, whose checkup at the doctor's in Dallas the day before had gone just fine, was back out at the high school, finishing up her own tutoring sessions. Carolyn and Mattie were probably upstairs, since the house was quiet. The ringing of the phone suddenly shattered that quiet and seemed unnaturally loud to Phyllis. She grabbed the receiver off the phone that was hanging on the wall in the kitchen. "Hello?"

"Hello, Phyllis, this is Walt Lee," the voice on the other end said in a pleasant twang. Although both of Dr. Lee's parents had been born in Taiwan, he had been born and raised in. Texas and sounded like the native of the Lone Star State that he was.

"Oh, hello, Dr. Lee. Did you want to talk to me, Mattie, or Eve?"

"Actually, I want to talk to you, Phyllis ... but it's about Mattie."

Phyllis stiffened in alarm. She had assumed that Mattie was here when she came in, but she didn't know that. It was possible that while she was gone something could have happened to Mattie; she could have gotten sick or had an accident or "Is she all right?" Phyllis asked anxiously.

"Right now, you mean? You'd know that better than I would, since I assume she's there at your house."

"Oh. I thought something had happened." "Something has happened," Dr. Lee said. Nothing dramatic, but nothing good, either. Could you come to my office, so that we can talk about this in person?"

"This afternoon, you mean?" "As soon as possible."

Phyllis glanced at the clock. It wasn't quite three yet. She could get to Dr. Lee's office, find out what he had to say, and still get back in plenty of time to fix supper.

"I'll come right over."

"Thank you. And I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't say anything about this to Mattie."

Phyllis hesitated. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable keeping secrets like that."

'I know I'm not. That's why I want to talk to you. Just trust me and reserve judgment for now, if you would."

If you couldn't trust your doctor, who could you trust? Phyllis said, "All right. I'll be there in a little while."

She said good-bye and hung up, wondering what this was all about.

Whatever it was, she had a strong feeling that it wouldn't be anything good.

Phyllis was in the garage, going around the back of the Lincoln to get in, when she heard a car stop at the curb in front of the house. She looked over and saw a vehicle she didn't recognize, a black SUV Annoyed that she was going to have to wait and deal with whoever this was instead of going straight to Dr. Lee's office, she walked a few feet out onto the driveway.

Somewhere she had seen the woman who got out of the SLTV and came toward her, but for a moment Phyllis couldn't remember just where. The woman was large-bigboned, as people used to say-and handsome, rather than pretty. She had short, curly brown hair, but when she came closer Phyllis decided that it was dyed, and that the woman was older than she appeared on first glance, at least seventy. That was when she realized that she had seen the woman at Donnie Boatwright's funeral, sitting up front in the pews reserved for family, next to Charles Boatwright. She was Sally Hughes, Donnie's and Charles's sister.

"Mrs. Newsom?" she said curtly.

"That's right," Phyllis replied. "What can I do for you?" "My name is Sally Boatwright Hughes,"

the woman said, telling Phyllis what she had already figured out. She lifted her chin defiantly. "I was Donnie Boatwright's sister."

"Of course, Mrs. Hughes. What can I do for you?" Phyllis asked again.

"You can stop going around town spreading lies about me and my brother Charles."

Sally Hughes was close now, close enough to make Phyllis uncomfortable. Phyllis took a step back and held up the hand that wasn't holding her purse. "Wait just a minute, Mrs. Hughes;' she began. "I haven't been spreading any lies."

"No? Then why have Charles and I had to hire a lawyer to protect ourselves from being harassed by the police?" "You hired Mr. Kinnison, too?" The question was startled out of Phyllis before she could stop it.

Sally Hughes's eyes widened angrily. "So you admit it!" "I'm not admitting anything;' Phyllis shot back. "And I certainly haven't spread any lies about you."

"You said that one of us killed our brother!" Sally's voice went up into a half shout. "You've been telling people that we hated poor Donnie and wanted him dead! The police have been asking us all sorts of questions about Donnie and our mother and that old will!"

Phyllis was torn between apprehension-she didn't like confrontation, and Sally Hughes was really angry-and excitement. Clearly, the police had taken her information seriously and interrogated Sally and Charles. That meant they were no longer focusing on Carolyn as their only suspect in Donnie's murder. Maybe Phyllis had done some good after all.

"Look, Mrs. Hughes," she said. "I'm song you're upset, but I didn't tell anyone about your mother's will except the authorities, and they had every right to know. Besides, what happened with your brother and your mother's estate is all public record. Anyone could have found out about it."

"No one else cared anymore. Not even Charles and I cared. Everyone had forgotten about it. And then you came along and made it sound like we ... like we murdered our own brother because of it!"

"Does your husband know you're here, Mrs. Hughes?" Phyllis asked cautiously.

"Leave Kent out of this! The next thing you know, you'll be accusing him of killing Donnie! Well, I won't allow it, do you hear me?" She shook a finger at Phyllis. "I won't allow it!"

And with that, she drew back her other arm and swung the heavy black purse in that hand straight at Phyllis's head. Phyllis let out a gasp and jumped back. The purse zipped past her face, just a few inches in front of her nose. "Mrs. Hughes!" she cried. "Stop that!"

"I'll shut you up!" Sally Hughes shouted as she bore down on Phyllis, forcing her back toward the garage. "I'll teach you to lie about my family!"

She drew back the purse for another mighty swing. Before she could strike again, though, someone came up behind her, and fingers clamped around the wrist of the hand holding the purse. She spat out an expletive that Phyllis, having taught school for all those years, had heard before, of course, but not lately, and never from the mouth of a wellto-do woman who had to be at least seventy years old. Sally Hughes twisted around and used her other hand to slap at the man holding her, whom Phyllis had recognized by now as Sam Fletcher. She didn't know where Sam had come from, but she was greatly relieved that he was here. Sam might have bitten off more than he could chew, though, because Sally either outweighed him or came close to it, and she was still spitting mad.

"Let go of me!" she shrieked. "Let go of me, or I'll have you arrested! Oh!" Sam was able to fend off the blows and catch hold of her other wrist. "Settle down!" he told her. "Dang it, ma'am, stop tryin' to hit me!"

"You ... you terrible man!" Sally panted. She was almost hysterical by now.

But after a minute she abruptly stopped struggling, and her face collapsed in tears. She dropped her purse. It popped open and spilled some of its contents as it hit the driveway. Sam released her wrists and stepped back quickly in case she threw a punch at him, but all the violence in her seemed

to have burned itself out. She put her hands over her face instead and stood there sobbing.

Sam looked at Phyllis with a slightly walleyed stare and said, "What in blue blazes is goin' on here?"

Phyllis moved around Sally Hughes, keeping as much distance as she could between her and the woman, and came to Sam's side. "This is Mrs. Hughes," she said quietly, nodding toward the distraught woman. "Donnie Boatwright's sister. She's upset with me."

"No kiddin';' Sam muttered.

"She thinks I've been telling people that she and her brother Charles murdered Donnie. I think the police have tried.to question them."

Understanding dawned on Sam's face. "You think we'd better call the cops? She tried to attack you, after all." Sally Hughes lowered her hands. Her face was red and puffy and wet from crying. "You might as well call the police," she said miserably. "My reputation is already ruined. All my friends will think that I killed Donnie. "

"You know," Phyllis said slowly to Sam, "I don't think she did it, or she mouldn't be this upset."

"Of course I didn't do it! I loved Donnie. I wouldn't have hurt him." Sally waved a hand. "Oh, of course I got infuriated at him sometimes! He could be a real pain in the ass! But he was my brother and I loved him, and Charles and I forgave him a long time ago for what he did about Mother's estate."

"You forgave him," Sam said, "but he didn't give you your share of the money, now did he?"

"Well ... no. But we never asked him to. It wasn't worth tearing the family apart over it. Charles felt the same way. It wasn't like either of us really needed the money:'

It looked like being a detective had some drawbacks, Phyllis thought. Investigating a crime meant that sooner or later, some innocent people were going to beiunder suspicion, and that might well be hurtful to them.

But there was no other way to find out the truth. She said, "Don't you want your brother's murderer caught, Mrs. Hughes?"

"Of course I do! But that's not Charles.or me."

"And once you're eliminated as suspects, it'll be that much easier to find the killer."

Sally sniffed and said acidly, "Finding killers isn't your job, Mrs. Newsom. It's a police matter."

Phyllis couldn't argue with that statement. But neither could she stand by and let Carolyn be blamed for something she hadn't done. Sally Hughes wouldn't be interested in that explanation, though.

Sam picked up Sally Hughes's purse and the things that had fallen out of it. "I'm a little leery about doing this, but here." He held them out to her.

Sally took them with another sniff. "Are you going to turn me in for attacking you?" she asked, with a defiant glare at Phyllis.

"No," Phyllis said. "Just go home and leave me alone:' ,.You leave me alone," Sally snapped. She stalked toward her SUV parked at the curb. Phyllis saw now that Sam's pickup was pulled in behind the SUV He must have driven up, seen Sally coming after Phyllis, and charged across the lawn to stop her.

The two of them stood there in the driveway and watched silently as Sally Hughes got into her vehicle and drove off with an angry screech of tires.

Phyllis turned to Sam. "Thank goodness you got here when you did. She went completely crazy."

"Crazy enough that maybe she did slip that poison to Donnie?" he asked.

"I don't think so," Phyllis said slowly as she shook her head. "I don't think she's that good an actress. She was really offended and upset."

"That still doesn't rule her out. "

"No, not entirely. But I don't believe she did.it."

From inside the garage, Carolyn asked, "What in the world happened out here? We heard all sorts of commotion. Who was that yelling?"

Mattie peered curiously out from behind the larger Carolyn. The sight of the older woman's wrinkled face sent a pang of guilt through Phyllis. If Sally Hughes hadn't shown up when she had, by now Phyllis would be at Dr. Lee's office, listening to whatever it was the doctor wanted to tell her about Mattie. The idea of going behind Mattie's back like that nagged at Phyllis's conscience.

But Dr. Lee had made it sound very important, and in the long run, Mattie's welfare came first.

Phyllis just hoped that the doctor hadn't decided she wasn't coming.

"It was nothing to worry about," she said in reply to Carolyn's questions. "Sally Hughes stopped by.

She was upset about something."

"What?" Carolyn asked bluntly.

Phyllis took a deep breath. She didn't want to give Carolyn any false hope, but she deserved an honest answer. "Evidently the police are taking an interest in her and her brother as possible suspects in Donnie's murder. That lawyer, Mr. Kinnison, must have told her that I was to blame for that, because of the questions I've been asking:'

Carolyn's eyes widened with shock and relief. "Men ... they don't think I did it anymore?"

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that," Phyllis cautioned. "You're probably still a suspect. But at least you're not the only suspect anymore."

Mattie shook her head. "All this fuss over a fella like Donnie. I've never seen the likes of it."

"Fuss is right," Sam said with a smile. "She came after Phyllis swinging her purse like a club."

"My God," Carolyn said as she started forward. "Are you all right, Phyllis?"

"I'm fine," Phyllis assured her. "She never laid a finger on me, thanks to Sam."

"Yeah, I'm glad I got back from the lumberyard when I did:' He glanced at Phyllis's purse. "Were you on your way somewhere when she came up and stopped you?"

"As a matter of fact, I do have an errand to run. I'll be back in plenty of time to get supper ready, though."

"Are you sure you're all right?" Carolyn asked. "I'm fine," Phyllis said.

But she wasn't sure she really would be until she heard what Dr. Walt Lee had to say ... and even then, if the news was as bad as she expected, she wouldn't be fine at all.