Deadly Neighbors (16 page)

Chapter Thirty

After church, and another hour of reading to and wiping noses of toddlers in their Sunday school class, I stood on the front steps of the church and took a cleansing breath of an Ozark summer day. The humidity filled my lungs with liquid air, but at least it didn’t smell of peanut butter crackers or “accidents”. I tried to dredge up at least a little excitement due to ministering to God’s little ones, but instead wanted to pinch Duane for volunteering us again.

My shoulders sagged. Not really. The little tykes were growing on me, and they were like little sponges soaking up whatever we taught them.

After a quick glance at my watch, I scurried for my car, deliberately avoiding the spot where Melvin’s lawnmower had hit it. I didn’t want to know the extent of damage to my paint job. Not yet. I only had thirty minutes before visiting hours at the jail, and needed to compose myself. Karen Anderson was at the top of my very long to-do list.

Duane was nowhere in sight for me to tell him where I
was headed. I checked my cell phone to be sure it was on, then turned my car toward the other side of town. Duane could call if he needed me.

River Valley
’s jail-house, a modest red brick building shaded by massive oak trees, sat about three hundred yards back from the highway. I cut the engine to the Prius and stared at the unimposing building. Except for the sign and the black and white’s parked out front, a passerby wouldn’t have a clue what the building housed. Formerly, administrative offices to an elementary school long burned down, the building had one holding cell, and rarely any occupants.

I’d spotted Bruce at church so knew he didn’t work today. Grabbing my purse, I slid from the car and marched to the front door. An electronic signal bonged when I pushed open the door and a small-framed, heavily made-up woman peered at me over tortoise shell rimmed glasses. “Yes?”

“I’d like to see Karen Anderson, please.”

The receptionist cocked her head to one side. “Oh, a guest here.” She
smirked and slid a form for me to sign across the desk. “You’ll have to leave your purse, jewelry, belt, etc. Lockers are over there.”

“Can I take a notebook and pen?” I wanted to take notes. Karen had to know something about her brother’s death.
I scratched my signature on the line.

“Let me see them.” She wiggled her fingers in my direction.

I withdrew the small spiral notebook and ink pen from my purse. The woman studied the items then handed them back.

“I suppose you can. You’ll be under the watchful eye of an officer anyway.
We’re pretty small time here.”

Did she think I would try to bust Karen out? I stifled a giggle and smiled. She waved me through a heavy wooden door
where an officer waited. The door banged shut behind us, my skin prickled. What if I needed to leave in a hurry? There wasn’t an emergency button in sight. Perspiration dotted my upper lip, and I hugged the tiny notebook to my chest.

“Sit here.” The officer motioned to a chair on one side of a pocked laminate-topped table. Another chair sat opposite.

I sat motionless and stared straight ahead for the eternal ten minutes it took for the man to lead a handcuffed Karen Anderson to the table.

“Hello?” Her brow creased.

“Hi, Karen. I’m Marsha Steele. Remember I spoke with you at your. . .uh. . .arrest?”

“Yes, I remember.” She plopped into the seat. Her handcuffs clanked the table. “What can I do for you?”

“Like I told you a few days ago, I’m trying to clear my daughter of suspicious charges.” It wasn’t a complete lie. They hadn’t suspected her of anything lately, but they had at first.

Karen arched an eyebrow.

“You also said you had taken your brother’s money, but returned it.”

“Some of it.”
She nodded. “I returned it the day before his death. I was there the next day to have lunch.” Karen leaned forward. “I paid back exactly three hundred dollars. Kyle seemed more relieved to see me than about the money.”

“Can you tell me how much you took?”

“Five hundred dollars. Not much by some people’s standards, but it was enough to tide me over until I found a job in St. Louis. Not that I have one anymore.” Her shoulders slumped. “I have to be back on Wednesday. Somehow, I don’t see me getting out of here by then.”

The firing of my questions, and the scratching of my pen, made me feel like a big-shot reporter. Maybe I’d missed my calling. Marsha
Stele, Investigative Reporter. “Tell me about finding your brother.”

Karen shuddered
, and her she paled to the color of Cream of Wheat. “I was an hour late. After knocking on the front door, I moved to the back. It was open. I stepped inside and saw Kyle lying there with a sandwich in his hand and a hammer in his head. I called the cops right away.”

“Were there signs anyone
was there before you?”

She chewed her lip, catching a piece of dried skin between her teeth. “This is the weird part. I’d called Kyle and told him I was running late. He said no problem. So why the sandwich? Why didn’t he wait on me? Plus, I could’ve sworn I smelled a
flowery perfume when I entered the house. Kyle never mentioned having a girlfriend.”

“Was anyone outside? Did anyone seem overly curious about Kyle’s house?”

“Yes.” Karen nodded. “There was someone. A woman. Blond, curvy, walking a dog. A red head in a dark car drove by. I notice things like that.” A sad smile crossed her lips. “Comes from keeping an eye out for cops, I guess. I also saw Melvin on his lawnmower. He was driving it down the street like it was a car or something. I know he was a friend of my brother’s, but that is the strangest man.”

Keep her on track, Marsha
. “Did anyone check for the missing money?”

“I don’t know.
Kyle kept it in the cookie jar shaped like a monkey.” Karen laughed then choked on a sob. “I told him not to do that, but he said no one would ever find it there. I bet someone did, right after they killed him.”

I needed to get inside Kyle’s house. “Thank you, Karen. I’m going to try and find out what happened. Hopefully, I can get you back to work on time and put a murderer behind bars.” Standing, I allowed the officer to lead me out of the room.
I wrote a note telling Bruce to check Kyle’s house for a monkey cookie jar and dropped it on his desk.

“Don’t believe everything she says
,” the officer told me. “The woman had recreational drugs in her system when we booked her.” He pushed a button to allow the steel doors to open. “Have a good day.”

Marching past the stern receptionist, I stepped outside and blinked against the sunlight assaulting my eyes. My conversation with Karen swirled through my mind. So, many questions. It wasn’t surprising that I believed her. Drugs or not, the woman already sat behind bars. Why lie? Of course, I tended to take people at face value. Often I found myself proved wrong, but sometimes people were truthful.

Two officers shoved past me, sprinting toward their cars and pulled me from my musing. Ever curious, I dashed to my own vehicle, prepared to follow.

My Prius had a tough time keeping up with their speedier squad cars, and I fell behind. No matter. Only one place resided at the end of the road we traveled. Mountain View Community
Church.

By the time I arrived, the squad cars had parked and the officers surrounded Stephanie Jackson. Her sobs
carried across the parking lot. I jammed my car into park, shut off the ignition, and bolted from my seat. What could have happened to send the woman into hysterics?

Duane met me half-way. “What happened?” I gripped his arms and glanced toward Stephanie.

He led me to a wooden bench beneath a magnolia tree. “Seems there’s been another robbery.”

“What? Who?” My blood froze.

“The women’s ministry money is gone.”

“How is that possible? Stephanie keeps it locked in the safe.” I rose to go to her but Duane pulled me back down. “Only a handful of people have access.”

He cupped my face, forcing me to look at him. “The money wasn’t in the safe, Marsha. Stephanie had it out on the desk. Counting it and getting it ready for deposit tomorrow.”

I didn’t want to know, but I had to ask.
“How much?”

“Two thousand dollars.”

“Did she leave it lying there?” The look on his face pulled the rug from beneath me. “Duane?”

He took a deep breath. “
According to her, two people came in. One male and one female. Stephanie said they kept their hands in their pockets and acted like they had a gun.”

“Where was everyone else?” It didn’t make sense. People congregated after church. Somebody would have seen something. The way Duane continued to stare at me told me he wasn’t finished.

“Sweetheart.” His hands lowered to grip mine. “Stephanie said one of them wore a green backpack with white polka dots.”

Chapter Thirty-One

I
f I hadn’t been sitting, I would have fallen. Instead, I shook my head and clamped my trembling knees together. “Stephanie’s making that up. Besides, Lindsey isn’t the only teen in these parts with that color backpack.” No way would I believe it. My daughter a thief? A murderer? Uh-uh. I yanked my hands free of Duane’s. How dare he entertain the thought?

“The evidence doesn’t look good. Bruce is more convinced then ever that Lindsey is involved somehow.”

I set my jaw and tilted my chin. “Ridiculous.”

“I’m just saying that—”

“And if you believe her capable of this, I don’t want anything more to do with you.”

“Marsha.”
The pain in his voice ripped through me as effectively as a razor.

“No.” Without another glance, I
tore away and fled to my car. Tears blurred my vision as I roared from the parking lot. My Prius didn’t make the sound I would have liked. More like an electronic purr, but I hoped the sight of my rear bumper got my point across. Through the rearview mirror, I caught a glimpse of Duane standing in front of the church looking like a boy who’d lost his best friend. The sight tugged at my heart. I couldn’t focus on him right now. Not when finding Lindsey was so imperative.

Maybe someone stole her backpack.
Yeah, that had to be the case.

Ten minutes later, I crunched gravel pulling into our driveway. Since every light in the house was on, despite it being early afternoon, I made an educated guess that Lindsey was home.
Play it cool, Marsha. Casual conversation. Don’t blurt out the questions.

I cut the ignition and squared my shoulders. What was I afraid of? She didn’t steal anything.
The innocent always won, right? I slid from the seat and closed the car door as quiet as possible. With heavy steps, I made my way to the porch.

Two voices reached my straining ears. I clinched my jaw. Lindsey knew she wasn’t supposed to have a boy over when no one was home. Their words slipped through the open window.

“That was way easier than I thought.” Billy laughed.

Cold chills ran down my back.

“Did you see the look on her face?” Lindsey’s giggle joined his merriment. “My backpack weighed a ton. I never thought I’d make it home.”

“I told you to let me carry it.”

“No way. You’re too careless. Besides, it was worth it.” Ice clinked in a glass. How could they drink at a time like this? I put my head in my hands.

“What we did today should provide years of entertainment.”
Billy laughed again.

My heart sank like a stone
, and I collapsed on the porch swing. Things didn’t look good for my baby.

The front door creaked as my mom pushed it open. At least Lindsey hadn’t broken one of my rules. Mom made a more than sufficient chaperone.

“Why are you sitting out here?” She dried her hands on a dish towel. “Are you all right? Can I get you some lemonade? An aspirin?”

I
shook my head and pushed off with my foot, setting the swing in motion. “Someone stole the women’s ministry money after church today.”

Mom folded into a wicker rocking chair. “Do they have any idea who?”

With a deep sigh, I motioned my head toward the front window. “Lindsey.”

“Not that again!
Why won’t people open their eyes?”

“The suspect carried a green backpack with white polka dots.” Tears stung my eyelids. “And I heard her and Billy through the window. They were talking about how heavy her backpack was and. . . ”

“The only thing those two brought home today was the biggest cat I’ve ever seen. The thing’s a monster! Its purr sounds like a Mack truck.” Mom shuddered. “They were so excited about ‘saving’ it, I didn’t have the heart to make them get rid of the thing. Carted it home in her backpack. Howled like the dickens when they walked through the door. Then Cleo started barking. It was total mayhem.”

A twinge of guilt pricked my conscience.
Call me the queen of jumping to conclusions, and I’d practically persecuted Duane just for being the bearer of bad news. “She tried getting a cat when we went to the shelter to get Cleo. How’s Cleo taking to the animal now?”

Mom gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “They act like old friends.” A car rolled in front of the house. “Bruce didn’t waste any time.”

“He wouldn’t. Fancies himself too important.” I steeled myself to do battle. He wouldn’t be taking my little girl anywhere based on circumstantial evidence. Not while I had breath left in my body. I rose to meet him.

“Marsha.” He at least had the common courtesy to remove his hat.

“Bruce.”

“Guess you know why I’m here.”

“Not really.” I crossed my arms.
Lord, give me strength and guard my tongue
. “Grasping at straws?”

“You don’t know about the money missing from church?” He frowned.

“I heard about it.”

“Then you also heard the thief carried a backpack matching your daughter’s.”

“And any number of other teenage girls. Doesn’t mean a thing.”

“It means
Lindsey’s our number one suspect.” He sighed. “I need to speak with her, please.”

“I’ll get her.” Mom rose and marched into the house. But not before giving Bruce her famous ‘Mom’ look.

I continued to glare until Mom, Lindsey, and Billy joined us on the porch. From the surprised look on his face, Bruce obviously thought we’d invite him inside. That would also be over my dead body. Never in my thirty-four years had I felt this type of animosity toward another human being. The fact it radiated toward an officer of the law bothered me. They were sworn to serve and protect. Instead, I felt Bruce was here to issue a warrant upon an innocent child.

“Good. You’re both here.” He pinched the bill of his hat. “I need to know where y’all were after church today.”

Lindsay glanced at Billy. “We went to get Grandma a wedding gift.”

“That cat’s my wedding present?” Mom shook her head
and placed a hand at her throat.

“Don’t you like it? We walked all the way out of town. The ad in the paper said loving cat free to a good home. Mom got a dog
; we thought you’d enjoy a kitten.”

“That thing is not a kitten.” Lindsey’s face fell
, and Mom wrapped her arms around her. “He’s just unexpected is all. I’m sure I’ll grow to love the beast.”

“His name is Goliath.”

“Of course it is.” Mom raised her eyebrows then turned to Bruce. “There you have it. They were getting me a cat.”

“Any witnesses?”

“Look, Bruce.” I took a step toward him. “Get to the point. Are you going to arrest Lindsey or not? Because if you aren’t, then leave.”

He moved back. “Are you threatening an officer of the law?”

“No. I’m telling a guy I’ve known since grade school to skedaddle.”

“You’re stepping over the line, Marsha.”

“Then arrest me.”

“Don’t tempt me!” Bruce slammed his hat on his head and marched back to his squad car. He stopped
, one hand on the handle. “Don’t try and skip town. I’ll have more questions when you women settle down. And I want to know where you got that cat and who else was there.”

Three generations of Calloway women, and one lonely boy, stared as he backed from our driveway. Remorse flickered through me at my actions, but not enough
for me to want to apologize. What was going on in this town, and why did someone have it out for my kid? It became more important that I got to the bottom of the thefts.

Duane arrived as Bruce left. My breath left me in a shuddering rush. What could I say to him after the gut punch I’d delivered? I glanced at Mom. “Can you take the kids inside, please?”

She nodded and ushered them through the door. “Come on, you two. I’ll make popcorn.”

Lindsey sent a worried look over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mom. We really didn’t mean anything by getting the cat.”

“I know you didn’t. It isn’t about Goliath.” I forced a smile to my trembling lips before turning back to Duane. Why did this man keep coming back for more torment? I wasn’t the easiest person to be around, especially when one of my family members was threatened.

He stopped before climbing the steps, putting us at eye level. “I didn’t suspect Lindsey. I only wanted
you to prepare yourself for what others are saying.” He gripped my hands. “If you want me to go, just say so. But I won’t be back again, Marsha. I can’t go through another fifteen years thinking about you, and not being able to see you or hold you. A knife in the gut would hurt less than your words. I know I hurt you terribly, but that was a long time ago. Please, stop punishing me for a stupid young man’s mistake.”

Tears ran down my cheeks
, and I threw myself in his arms. “I’m sorry. Really. I don’t want to break up. Sometimes the words fly from my mouth without a filter.” I buried my face in the crook of his shoulder. He smelled like heaven. “Forgive me?”

Duane scooped me in his arms. “Always.” He carried me back to the swing and sat, keeping me on his lap.
Nothing could hurt me while his arms were wrapped so tight around me. “Are all the Calloway women as prickly as you?”

“Yep.”

His chuckle vibrated against my cheek. “You should come with a warning label.”

“I don’t deserve you.” I sniffed. “But I am eternally grateful to God for putting you back in my life. Now, if you can help me. . . ”

“Tell me what you want me to do.”