Down Home and Deadly (20 page)

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Authors: Christine Lynxwiler,Jan Reynolds,Sandy Gaskin

Tags: #Mystery

BOOK: Down Home and Deadly
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“Or maybe he had planned to manipulate the situation in some way but died before he could,” Carly mused.

Before I could answer, cold water sprayed us.

“Whooo!” Carly rubbed her hand across her face. “You sneaky girls splashed us on purpose!” Our blue and white paddleboat rocked as we turned and pedaled furiously to try and catch the twins.

“Y’all looked like you needed to have a little fun
,
” Hayley called, grinning over her shoulder at us. “Hurry, Rachel, they’re gaining!”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Rachel yelled.

“We’re getting too old for this.” Panting, Carly looked over at me and grinned. “Besides
,
they’re lighter. They can go faster.”

“No kidding.” My muscles burned as I pedaled harder. “Youth wins again,” I declared dramatically as the twins beat us by inches to the dock, our finish line.

“No more splashing us,” Carly told the giggling girls. “Let’s just relax and paddle around for a while. That way I may be able to catch my breath.”

As the girls paddled their boat across the lake, Carly and I leaned back against our seats and tried to slow our pounding heartbeats. Carly kept an eye on the girls’ boat as we talked.

“I can’t even imagine what it would be like if something happened to one of them.” She nodded toward the twins. “Poor Harvey and Alice.”

“Yeah. I feel so sorry for them. I wish we knew exactly what happened.” I leaned back and stuck my hand into the cool water. “I hate it that Marge didn’t tell me not to mention J.D. to them.”
I
trickled water down my sweaty face. “And Marge won’t tell me anything else.”

“Did you ask Mama?” Carly fanned herself with her hand. “She would know.”

“No.” I filled her in on Mama’s plea for me to stay out of this case. “So I’m trying to keep a low profile.” I relaxed against my seat. “Besides
,
I need an unbiased report.”

“I think most of the people involved are pretty biased,” Carly said dryly. “Too bad we can’t just
g
oogle it. But I’m pretty sure something that old won’t be on the
I
nternet.”

“The archive room at the newspaper!” I turned to Carly. “As soon as we can
,
we need to go to the
Monitor
o
ffice. All we have to do is find the paper with the article in it.” I didn’t mention that there were forty years of papers to go through. No need to scare her off before we even g
o
t started.

“Sounds easy enough.” Carly guided us up to the dock. We levered ourselves out of the boat and motioned for the girls to come on in.

While we were waiting for them to get out of their boat and join us
,
Daddy came toward us with fishing poles in one hand and his tackle box in the other.

“Is it okay with you if the girls and I fish for a while?”

Carly nodded. “Jenna and I need to run an errand
,
anyway.”

Daddy offered the poles to the giggling twins. “Let’s see if we can catch some supper.”

I glanced at the watch on Daddy’s wrist. It was a little after five. Most of the
Monitor
employees should be gone. “Can the girls stay with you until we get back?”

“Of course they can. We may be out here an hour or more
,
anyway.” Daddy rigged a pole for each of the girls
,
and they sat on the dock with their legs hanging off. “We’ll take our catch up to the house when we finish.”

“Pretty sure we’ll catch some, aren’t you, Grandpa?” Rachel said sassily.

“He knows
I
will,” Hayley spouted off.

Daddy laughed
,
and Carly and I exchanged a grin. “They’re growing up,” she murmured. “Before I know it, they’ll be grown and gone.”

I stared at her as we climbed into my vehicle. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and stared out the window at the lake. “Just realizing how quickly things can change.”

I frowned but concentrated on pulling onto the highway. Was Travis about to come barreling back into our lives? I wanted to ask. But I’d promised myself I’d wait until she got ready to tell me. And I would.

*****

The parking area behind the newspaper office was empty when Carly and I pulled in.

“I’m glad no one is here. I’d rather not have to explain what we’re looking for to anyone.” I unlocked the door. “Even Tiffany.”

I flipped the light switch on in the archive room
,
and Carly gasped. “Just find the paper with the article in it? I think this may be harder than I thought.”

I explained that they were in order by date and that Marge had given me the month and year. So after narrowing our search to that one small area
,
we began to read.

After about fifteen minutes, I slapped the table. “Pay
dirt!” I read the headline aloud to Carly. “L
ocal
T
een
K
illed in
D
rag
R
acing
A
ccident
.”

“Drag racing? No one mentioned that
,
did they?”

I shook my head and continued reading. “
 

Fifteen-year old Sara
Coleman
, daughter of Harvey and Alice
Coleman
,
was the victim of a fatal automobile accident.
Coleman
was a passenger in the car driven by Jimmy Finley, age seventeen, of
Lake
View
. Witnesses said Finley lost control of the car when it hit a bump in the road while traveling at a high rate of speed. It then went airborne and flipped several times before landing in a ditch. Finley reported only minor injuries. Police have not yet determined whether alcohol or drugs were involved. The accident occurred off County Road 44.

 

“Wow,” Carly said. “I’d envisioned something like a hit
-
and
-
run or maybe he was drunk and hit her car.”

I laid the newspaper to the side. “So she chose to be there.” I mulled that over for a few minutes.

“That probably makes it worse for her parents
,
” Carly pointed out. “If she were a totally innocent victim
,
it may have been easier on them.”

“I wonder if he was her boyfriend.” I set the newspaper in its place. “Or if she did it on a dare
.

“Maybe she just loved to go fast,” Carly said.

We found another article dated two weeks later. The headline read,
Local Teen Pleads Guilty in Fatal Accident
. I read
the article
aloud. “
 

Jimmy Dean Finley pleaded guilty to vehicular homicide in Lake View District Court on Thursday. According to police, Finley and passenger, Sara
Coleman
, were involved in a high
-
speed drag race
,
when Finley lost control of his car
,
which went airborne. Miss
Coleman
was thrown from the car and killed instantly. Alcohol was a factor.

 

“Do you think there are any other articles about this?” I glanced at Carly.

“We’re almost finished with the month. Let’s go on and look through the rest of these.”

A few minutes later, Carly said, “Oh, here’s one!” She started reading. “
Parents of Dead Teen Sue Property Owners Where Accident Occurred
. Harvey and Alice
Coleman
filed a wrongful death lawsuit against Bob and Wilma Pryor after the death of their daughter
,
Sara
Coleman
.


She stopped. “Bob and Wilma? What in the world?”

“Keep reading,” I urged.

“The lawsuit alleges that the Pryors knowingly provided alcohol to minors while on their property.”

I gasped. “I don’t believe it.”

She glanced back at the article. “Believe it. Listen to this
:
‘According to unnamed sources, there have been numerous complaints from other parents about underage drinking and drag racing on the Pryors’ property.’
 

We looked at each other. “There has to be more. At least the trials of J.D. and of Bob and Wilma,” Carly said.

I nodded. “And I have to see how they came out.”

We began looking through the newspapers
for
the next month. But it wasn’t until December that we scored.


 

J.D. Finley has been sentenced to a year in Juvenile Detention,

 
” Carly read aloud.

A minute later, I found the rest of the story. “
 

Local residents Harvey and Alice
Coleman
have dropped their wrongful death suit against Bob and Wilma Pryor.

 

“Hank kept those last two uncharacteristically short, didn’t he?” Carly said.

I nodded. “Marge said she begged him not to print anything at all. I suppose he just put what he felt his journalistic ethics required.”

“So that’s why Bob gave up the hippie life
.
 
.
 
.
 
.
” Carly carefully put the newspaper back where it belonged. “And why everyone is suddenly remembering the past.”

I nodded. “The question is, d
id
someone remember the past vividly enough to kill because of it?”

 

*****

*****

Chapter Thirteen

 

Never miss a good chance to shut up
.

 

“Miss Jenna.”
Marco
gave me a serious look. “If that woman comes in and pinches my jaw again, I will have to look for another job. Miss Carly will fire me
,
because I will be rude to a customer.”

“Tell you what,
Marco
. I’ll be on the lookout. When Jolene comes in, I’ll be sure
Harvey
seats her in my section. Deal?”

“Thank you. Yes, it is a deal.”

Consequently, when Jolene made an appearance toward the end of the
noon
rush,
Harvey
seated her at a table in the corner
,
and I took her order.

“I must be getting back to my roots or something,” she commented as I s
e
t her sweet tea on the table. “I had that all
the
time when I was at my gramma’s when I was a kid.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, where are you from? Sometimes you sound like you’re from
Mississippi
,
and sometimes from
New York
or somewhere up there.”

“Keeps you guessin’, don’t it?” She winked. “Actually, you ain’t far off. I spent the summers in
Texas
with my gramma, but my folks lived in
New Jersey
. Then when I was old enough to make my own way, I went wherever the spirit moved me, from
Florida
to
California
and points in between. My trusty Mustang takes me wherever the good times are. I usually find me somebody to hang out with for a while
,
and then I move on. I’m a pretty good waitress, so I can work about anywheres.”

I eyed her short, low-cut dress and stiletto heels, trying to picture Carly hiring her to work at the
Down Home
Diner. Nope. Couldn’t see it.

“Now, let’s get down to business. We’ve gotta hit the funeral parlor and figure out how much a buryin’ is gonna set me back. Once me and the mortician come to terms, we need to set a date and get this thing done. I ain’t one for havin’ a long drawn
-
out grieving. Jimmy’s dead. Let’s get him in the ground and get on with life.”

Once again, I found myself riding shotgun in the red Mustang. We pulled into
the
drive of the local funeral home and got out. Jolene checked to make sure her dress wasn’t hitched up—or maybe to make sure it was. Then she pranced on her tall, thin heels into the building. I almost ran to keep up. I wanted a glimpse of Tom LeMay’s face when he saw her. The plump, bald
,
middle-aged man met us at the door but took Jolene’s appearance in stride.

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