Dead Broke in Jarrett Creek: A Samuel Craddock Mystery (Samuel Craddock Mysteries) (6 page)

“You’ve got some nerve coming over here gloating. I heard about that secret meeting where they decided you’d take over the police department. You’ve always wanted Rodell’s job. Now see how you like it. Nobody appreciates anything the chief of police does.”

Rodell Skinner’s wife, Patty, hasn’t invited me in, so I’m standing on her porch, hat in hand. I’ve come here to see if she knows how long Rodell will be out of commission and to tell her I’ve been temporarily appointed to Rodell’s job. I was hoping to smooth things out with Rodell, but it’s not going quite as I’d planned.

“Patty, I’m sorry I upset you. It’s a hard situation. The meeting wasn’t meant to be secret, but something had to be done—and it had to be done fast. The town is flat broke. A lot of people are being affected by this.”

“That’s what you say. But you watch—Rusty Reinhardt will find the money to do what suits him. That’s the way government always works. They take hard-earned money from people who work for a living and use it for whatever suits them.”

I don’t bother to tell her that the salary I’m getting is a token dollar a year. Finding that out would stir her up more. I don’t know what more I can do here. “Patty, my intention was to extend a hand to Rodell,” I say. “I’d appreciate knowing when he gets back from rehab.” I turn around, clapping my hat on my head. I’m barely two steps away before the door slams behind me.

The way Rodell has always carried on, I don’t know why Patty is such a big defender of his. I suspect she’s so mad at him she can barely see straight and thinks if she doesn’t defend him everybody will guess how mad she is.

Alan Dellmore’s house, one of the oldest and grandest in Jarrett Creek, has a sedate, comfortable feel to it, with rocking chairs on the wide porch and potted plants in the corners. The Dellmores both grew up in Jarrett Creek and are not inclined to put on airs.

I raise my hand to knock on the door, but I hear loud voices inside—angry voices. I hesitate, not wanting to intrude on a family argument, but I remind myself that I’m no longer a private citizen. I’m the chief of police. I have to do the job even if I’m walking in on an embarrassing situation.

Before I can knock, though, the front door opens and Barbara Dellmore shoves open the screen door. I dance backward to avoid her running into me.

“Oh! You startled me. I’m just leaving.” Barbara’s face is flushed and her voice is sharp. She barrels past me and down the steps to her car.

I don’t try to stop her, but I do wonder what has her so flustered. I hold the screen door open and call out, “Hello? Clara, Alan?”

When Alan comes to the door, he’s a pitiful sight. His face looks like somebody has gouged furrows in it. His wrinkled corduroy pants and baggy sweater look like they’ve been slept in. “Come on back,” he says. “Clara and I are in the den.” I follow him inside and he shuffles in front of me like an old man. He’s several years older than me, but I wouldn’t have thought of him as old until today.

The den is a big TV room with a picture window that draws my eyes out onto the bleak-looking backyard with its patchy stubs of dead grass and stark, bare trees. There are a few bushes along the back fence, but no garden.

Clara is sitting on a plump sofa. She’s a small woman. I’ve known her since we were young. A few years older than me, she was a pretty girl with an unexpected deep dimple when she smiled. She’s not smiling now. Her face is gray, her eyes puffy, but she still manages to convey dignity.

I lean down to take her hand and tell her and Alan how sorry I am about Gary. “I’m intruding, but I have to ask you some questions.”

I explain that as of yesterday afternoon I’m acting chief of police. “It’s up to me to find out who did this to your son.”

Alan starts to speak, but it comes out as a croak. He clears his throat before he starts again. “Thank you for coming. It’s been a terrible shock.”

Clara gestures to an armchair. “Samuel, why don’t you take a seat. Can I get you something?”

“No, no, you stay there. Don’t get up. I’m fine.” I sit down facing her.

Dellmore lowers himself onto the sofa next to his wife. “What kind of questions do you have?” he says.

“Let me get a little background. When did you last see Gary?”

Clara puts a hand to her lips and closes her eyes. Alan answers. “I see Gary every day at work, and Clara saw him over the weekend. He stopped by.”

“Did everything seem all right with him?”

Alan hesitates but then nods. “Same as usual.” He glances at Clara. There’s something he’s reluctant to say, but I’ll get at it.

“Do either of you know if Gary had a falling-out with anybody recently?”

Clara draws a sharp breath. Dellmore takes her hand. He looks at me, his eyes full of pain. “You might as well hear it from me. Gary and I didn’t always see eye-to-eye on things, and…” he pauses and swallows. “We had a fight last Friday, and then again Tuesday. I shouldn’t have been so hard on him!” He hangs his head.

Clara puts her other hand on his arm and squeezes. “You can’t blame yourself, Alan. People have arguments all the time. You can’t keep things to yourself for fear that somebody might…”

Dellmore puts his hand up to stop her. “The problem was I flew off the handle and called him out right in front of everybody at the bank. I should have talked to him privately.”

“What was the argument about?”

Dellmore looks off in the corner and runs a hand over his mouth hard like he’s trying to wipe away the words he has to say. “Cookie Travers told me last week that Gary was paying one of the girls the wrong kind of attention. Flirting with her. Could be considered harassment, she said, and it needed to stop. Friday I confronted him.”

“Who was the girl?”

“A teller. New girl. Rusty Reinhardt’s daughter Jessica. She started working for us last summer, straight out of junior college. Nice girl, pretty. Made me mad that Gary would do such a thing. He’s a married man and everybody knows it! He was making of fool of himself, not to mention the girl and the people who saw what was going on and had to pretend they didn’t notice.” His voice grows more vehement the longer he talks.

Clara has been sitting frozen, but she gives herself a little shake and says, “Now Alan, you’re going to get your blood pressure up. There’s no need to go over this again.”

Dellmore lowers his head into his hands and shudders. “You’re right. But I hate to think…”

“Stop,” she says firmly.

I wonder what he was going to say—does he hate to think their argument was one of their last exchanges or that his son had flouted the rules? “You said it could be considered harassment. Did Jessica threaten to bring any charges or anything like that?”

Dellmore manages a tired smile. “No, according to Cookie it was a mutual flirtation. Like I said, Jessica is young. I guess she didn’t realize how it looked. Cookie said she had to bring it up because people were starting to gossip. Apparently Jessica told Cookie that it was no big deal, that Gary was simply being friendly.”

“You said you had another argument Tuesday?”

Dellmore hits his knee with his fist. “Gary was right back at it. Tuesday morning I walked in, and there he was in her cubicle again like some teenager with hormone problems. I told him I wanted to talk to him in my office, he gave me some back talk, and it escalated from there.”

Suddenly from the doorway, a woman’s voice says, “What’s going on? I thought you two were going to lie down for a while. We’ve got people coming into town once we make funeral arrangements. You’re going to need your strength.”

A young woman who’s the image of Clara is standing in the doorway.

Alan says, “Annalise, come on in here.” The girl walks a few steps into the room. “I don’t know if you remember Mr. Craddock. He’s been appointed temporary chief of police. He’s investigating your brother’s death. Samuel, this is our daughter, Annalise Whittier. She lives in San Antonio with her husband.”

Annalise strides over to me and shakes my hand. She has a more confident manner than Clara. “I remember your wife from the front office at school. She was always so nice. I was sorry to hear she passed away.”

“Thank you. She did enjoy the students. I’m glad you remember her. And I’m sorry about your brother.”

“I couldn’t believe it when Daddy called me. I still can’t believe it. As soon as I heard, I came home to help Mamma and Daddy.” With her brisk tone, she strikes me as the kind of person who will always take charge in a crisis.

“Where’s Mikey?” Clara asks, rising from the sofa.

“He’s having a snack in the kitchen.”

“He shouldn’t be left alone when he’s eating,” Clara says, moving toward the door. “He might choke or fall out of his high chair.”

“Mamma, he’s fine. He’s all strapped in, and you know how he likes to eat.”

In the doorway, Clara pauses. “Samuel, do you need me for anything more?”

“No, you go on and see about the baby. I’ll talk to Alan a few more minutes.”

I ask Dellmore if there were any other incidents between him and his son, and he hesitates. “Not really incidents.”

I wait. He’ll tell me.

Dellmore studies his hands, gathering his thoughts. “You know, Gary didn’t plan to come back here and work for me. You may remember that Barbara’s daddy had a tractor/trailer business over in Bryan-College Station. When she and Gary got married, her daddy hired Gary to handle the financial side of things. Said he was grooming Gary to take over. But somewhere along the line, things took a downturn and the business went under. After that, Gary had trouble finding another job. He didn’t want to come back here, but I offered to hire him, and frankly I was surprised when he said yes. He never thought he was cut out to be a banker, and I’m afraid I have to agree.”

“I was under the impression that your son was going to take over the bank when you retired.”

He sighs. “I always hoped that would happen. But when it came down to it, Gary didn’t have the right attitude to go into banking. He didn’t always do things the way I thought they should be done.”

“So the flirtation with Jessica Reinhardt wasn’t the first time you two had words?”

“No.” He draws a deep breath. “And I had to defend him to the board more than once. They weren’t satisfied with the way he handled business. I kept hoping I could guide him, and I thought I was making some progress.”

He gets up and walks over to a wall covered with pictures of the family and looks at them for a few seconds before turning back to me. “Gary was a good uncle to Annalise’s kids and I think he would have been a good father. Maybe that would have settled him down. But Gary said that’s one thing he and Barbara agreed on, that they didn’t want kids.”

“You get along okay with your daughter-in-law?”

“Who, Barbara? We get along fine with her.” He glances toward the kitchen and then says in a low voice. “I should say
I
get along with her. Clara and Annalise…” He shrugs. “They never took to her. They say she’s hard to get to know, but I don’t have a problem with her. She’s always friendly to me.”

“When she left just now, she was upset.”

“She and Annalise had words. Annalise… let’s just say sometimes she has strong opinions and doesn’t mind letting people hear them.” Interesting that both Gary and his sister were outspoken when their parents are self-effacing people.

“Grief doesn’t always bring out the best in families. What were they arguing about?”

He shoves his hands into his pockets and takes a turn around the room. “She was put out because she said Barbara didn’t seem upset by Gary’s death.”

“Barbara seems like the kind of person to keep her feelings to herself. Sometimes people can take that the wrong way.”

“You’re right. Barbara has never been one to let her feelings show, but she was pretty offended when Annalise said what she said. She told Annalise it was nobody’s business how she mourned. And then…” He glances at me and ducks his head, looking at the floor.

“Then what?”

“Barbara got a little ugly. She said that Gary was unfaithful to her and if he had been a better husband she might have been more broken up.” He sighs. “It escalated from there. Annalise said something she shouldn’t have. She said that Barbara let herself go and if she had kept herself up better, he wouldn’t have been interested in other women. It was a bad fight. Both of them were way off base.”

“Did Clara get involved in the argument?”

“No, she stayed out of it. As I said, she never took to Barbara. But I’m sure she didn’t approve of the way Annalise talked to Barbara today.”

“Do you know of any problems Gary had with anyone else lately? Anybody who was especially upset with him?”

He thinks for a minute and shakes his head. “I can’t think of anybody. Gary confided more in Clara than he did in me. Maybe she can help you out. You want to talk to her?”

“I’ll have a quick word with her.”

“Why don’t we go in the kitchen? You can meet the wild man.” It’s the first time there has been a light in Alan’s eyes since I got here.

I ask how old his grandson is.

“He’s two. Cutest thing you ever saw. And smart! But he’s giving Annalise fits. Her two older ones are in school, and between them she didn’t have half the trouble that little pistol is giving her.”