Killer Crullers (24 page)

“Is the chief making any progress on his end?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t know. When we’re together, we find other things to discuss besides our work.”

“Okay, forget I asked.”

Momma added, “When Jake is finished lecturing, is there any chance he’ll be able to lend you a hand? I know you can take care of yourself, but I feel better when he’s around.”

“That makes two of us,” I said. “I’m a big fan of the man myself. He’s got two more lectures, and then he’ll be finished. I hope he’ll be able to come to April Springs for a few days, but with his job, he never knows where he’s going to be next.”

“You’re good at enjoying the time you’ve got, though.”

“We do our best,” I said. “I can’t tell you how honored I am that you chose me over Chief Martin tonight.”

Momma smiled softly. “It won’t hurt him to miss seeing me for one night.”

“Are you kidding? Missing this meal alone would kill him if he knew about it. I wouldn’t tell him what we just ate, especially the pie.”

“There’s no need. I told him he could have a slice tomorrow, and you’d think I told him he’d just won the lottery.”

“He did,” I said. “So, do you have any plans for the rest of the night?”

“That all depends on you,” she said.

“I’m wide open,” I answered, and my telephone rang.

“It’s George,” I said as I checked the caller ID.

“By all means, take it.”

I stepped back out onto the porch, both for privacy and the fact that we got better reception out there. My room had two bars, but the rest of the house was hit or miss.

“George, how was your drive?”

“Well, I made it in one piece,” he said. He sounded really tired, but I knew better than to say it aloud.

“Where exactly are you?”

He laughed gently. “I didn’t tell you? I’m in Alabama.”

“That’s quite a drive from here.”

“Tell me about it,” he said.

“Have you seen your brother yet?” I hated to ask the question, but I wanted George to know that he could talk to me about it.

“Just for a second. Sorry, I should have called you earlier, but I had a lot to deal with. I just didn’t feel like chatting, you know?”

“We don’t have to talk now,” I said. “I’m just glad you made it there okay.”

I started to hang up when he said, “Hold on. I’ve got something for you.”

“How could you do any digging while you were on the road?” I asked.

“I told you, I called in some favors. I found out about the gun permits, if you’re interested.”

“Of course I am, but we can wait and talk about this tomorrow. I know you’re dealing with a lot right now.”

He paused, and then in a voice older than I’d ever heard from him, George said, “To be honest with you, I could use the distraction.”

“Then by all means, fire away.”

He laughed a little. “That’s cute. Fire away with the gun permits.”

I hadn’t meant to be amusing, but I wasn’t about to deny credit for it. “What did you find out?”

“Three folks on your list have permits,” he said. “Care to guess which ones?”

“I’d rather you just tell me,” I said.

“One belongs to Katie Wilkes, Allen Davis has one, too, and the third one is held by Gabby Williams.”

CHAPTER 15

“Gabby? You’re kidding me.” I couldn’t see her with a gun, and if she did have a weapon to match that permit, why hadn’t she said something to me about it when we’d talked about my investigation?

“It’s for a .44, which is not a little gun at all. Then again, Gabby is big enough to handle it without any problem.”

I felt my heart sink a little as I started to ask the question I was afraid I already had the answer to; which caliber of gun had been used to kill Desmond Ray.

I never got the chance, though.

“I’m sorry, Suzanne,” George said. “They’re calling me back into his room.”

I couldn’t even pass on Momma’s love, he hung up so quickly.

*   *   *

“Suzanne, what’s wrong? Did he die?”

It took me a second to realize that Momma was speaking to me. “What did you just ask me?”

“George’s brother. Is he gone?”

“No, but it’s not looking good.”

“I’m so sorry,” Momma said.

I was, too, as much for George as I was sorry for Gabby. I had to find out if her gun, or one like it with the same caliber, had killed Desmond Ray, but who could I ask? No one, I realized. I was just going to have to wait for George, no matter how long it took.

“Do you feel like taking a walk in the park?” I asked Momma.

“It’s a little chilly, isn’t it?”

It was more than that, but I didn’t care. For some reason I just had to get out of the house. “Come on, we can bundle up, and when we get back, we can have a fire.”

I half expected her to say no, so I was delighted when she agreed. “Why not? It might do us both some good to get out and get a little fresh air.”

As we stepped out onto the porch, twilight was nearing. The clocks would be changing in a few weeks to daylight savings time, and soon we wouldn’t have light this time of the evening. Most folks enjoyed sleeping in, but I got up so early that it really didn’t matter all that much to me. I didn’t know anyone else who would be able to tell two-thirty from three-thirty in the morning, either.

I started to tell Momma about Gabby’s gun permit, and a few other facts about the case I was working on, but before the words could leave my lips, I bit them back down. This wasn’t a night for murder and mayhem. I wasn’t at all sure how many more evenings Momma and I would have alone, and I didn’t want to ruin one of the last ones by talking about what had happened to Desmond Ray.

We strolled around the big loop in the park, my gaze going for a moment to the Patriot’s Tree, a mighty oak that had seen its share of death over its lifetime. Even with everything it had experienced over the many years it had stood there, the tree had remained; strong, silent, resolute.

I glanced back at the cottage and thought I saw something in the shadows.

“What’s that?” I asked Momma as I pointed to our front porch.

“What?” she asked as she looked, too. “I don’t see anything.”

Whatever it had been—if it had been anything at all—was now gone. The trees around our place sometimes projected the oddest shadows, almost creating optical illusions in the waning moments of daylight.

“I’m sure that it was nothing,” I said. “I must be tired. My eyes are starting to play tricks on me.”

“Are you getting enough sleep?” she asked, always and ever my mother.

“Probably not,” I admitted.

“You should turn in early tonight and try to catch up,” she said.

“I’ll be fine,” I answered. “Honestly, I’d rather stay up and hang out with you. Who knows how many more nights we’ll have?” The last part just slipped out unbidden.

“Suzanne, I relish our time together, as well. Even if other things change, I promise you, that won’t.”

I put my arm in hers as we walked back to our cottage. “Momma, what did you teach me about making promises I couldn’t keep?”

“What makes you think I won’t keep that one?” she asked.

“I know you mean to, but life has a way of getting in the way, doesn’t it?”

She stopped, and since our arms were locked, I stopped, as well. “Suzanne,” she said. “Look at me. As long as I’m breathing, I’ll always have time for you. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said with a smile. I knew that if she accepted the police chief’s proposal a great deal would change, but not everything. Momma and I would stay close; I was sure of that. We’d both worked too hard to reconnect after the Max part of my life had ended.

When we got up on the porch, I looked around for some kind of sign or calling card that someone had been on our porch, but there was nothing but some early fallen leaves. Before long, the park would be filled with tones of orange, red, and yellow, and soon after that, we’d be walking on a carpet of brightly fallen leaves. This, too, was fleeting, and I made up my mind to enjoy every last moment of it, and I had a feeling that my mother felt the exact same way.

“Do you have any interest in a game?” I asked Momma when we walked back inside. I felt much better with the solid door locked between us and the rest of the world.

“Certainly,” she said. That was when I noticed her book on the coffee table.

“I have a better idea,” I said. “Let’s light that fire we promised ourselves, and then read a little before bed. I’ve got a new book I’ve been dying to start, but I never seem to be able to stay awake long enough to make much progress.”

“What’s the title?” she asked. My mother was an avid reader, almost exclusively traditional mysteries. Some folks called them cozies, but she didn’t care what subgenre they were listed under. It was the puzzle of the crime and the people involved that mattered to her, in equal parts. There wasn’t any gore, and not much blood, in her books, and that was just the way she liked it.

“It’s new to me, but not the world,” I said. “I’ve been browsing through some of Bill Bryson’s books. Have you read them?”

“He’s certainly funny, isn’t he? Which book are you on?”

“A Walk in the Woods,”
I said. “Somebody at the donut shop left it behind one day, and when no one claimed it, I took it home. I’ve been lugging it back and forth every day, just in case the owner shows up, but I can’t imagine anyone minding if I dip into it a little bit myself.”

“Do you have any new mysteries coming up for your book club?” That was one activity my mother had endorsed when Jennifer, Hazel, and Elizabeth had come into my shop, and my life.

“We had to cancel this month’s meeting because of an illness, but we’re all set for next month.”

“It sounds perfectly lovely.”

I was sure it would be, especially for her. Why hadn’t I thought of inviting Momma to our group before? My mother loved reading and discussing books, and I knew the three women in my group would welcome her gladly. My lack of an invitation may have been because I’d wanted to keep that little bit of my life for myself, but with the idea that Momma and I would no longer living together looming larger and larger, it would be a way to keep her close.

“You could always come with me the next time,” I said.

“No, as lovely as the invitation sounds, I really shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” I asked. “It sounds like something you’d really love.”

She took my hands in hers. “Suzanne, I dearly appreciate the offer, but you need to keep these ladies for yourself. We share enough of our lives together. This should be yours, and yours alone.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind, let me know.” I looked at the fire, which had taken hold and was burning brightly, and said, “I’ll be back in a second. I just want to get my book.”

“I’ll be here,” Momma said.

As I got to my room, I picked up my “borrowed” copy, and was starting back toward the door when my telephone rang.

“Jake,” I said. “It seems like forever since we talked.”

He laughed, and I could picture his smile as he said, “It was just this morning.”

“I know, but it seems longer than that. How was today’s lecture?”

“More of the same,” he said. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to come up with something new to say day in and day out.”

“And did Ashley audit you again?”

He laughed. “No, I believe that particular joke has run its course.”

“You have to admit, it must have been a little flattering to get that kind of attention.”

He snorted. “I’ll do no such thing. Enough about me, now. Tell me about your day.”

I recounted what I’d learned, what I suspected, and what George had said. When I was finished, Jake whistled softly. “You don’t waste any time.”

“Funny, I don’t feel as though I’m making any progress at all,” I admitted.

“You’re kidding, right? You found out more today than most police forces could have managed with all of their resources. There’s something to be said for the direct approach from an indirect source. I may have to write a paper on it.”

I couldn’t see my boyfriend as an academic. “Really? Have you got the scholarly bug now that you’ve been guest lecturing?”

“Not a chance,” he said. “I was just imitating some of my new acquaintances here. Apparently publishing papers is very important in this job.”

“So, you’re not tempted to take on a sideline as a guest lecturer?”

“Not a chance,” he said. “When it comes down to it, I’d rather do than teach. What’s your next move?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” I replied. “I’ve been thinking about talking to Gabby about her gun, but I don’t want to do it if I can help it.”

He hesitated, and then asked, “You need the caliber of the bullet, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “But I can’t figure out a way to find out what it was.”

“Don’t go anywhere. I’ll call you right back.” He hung up before I could say anything else, and two minutes later, my phone rang again.

“That didn’t take long,” I said.

“What can I say? The chief likes me.”

“I wish I could say the same thing.”

Jake laughed, and then said, “To be honest, I think he’s happy that I’m in Asheville and not there mucking things up with you.” The humor went out of his voice as he added, “I hate to tell you this, but it was a .44, just like the one Gabby owns. There’s something else you need to know, too, and it’s not good.”

“How can it get any worse than that?”

“Gabby told the chief that she couldn’t find her gun when he asked her about it. She thinks it might have been stolen, but not being able to produce it is putting her in some hot water. If you can think of anything to do that can help her, I’d do it, and fast.”

“Thanks, Jake. You don’t happen to have any ideas, do you?”

He whistled for a moment under his breath, something I’d just recently learned meant that he was thinking deep thoughts. “Well, I think you’re on the right track. I don’t believe for a second that Desmond’s murder was random in any way. Go back over your list and try to find out who had the best reason to want to see him dead. At this point, you can’t afford to ignore anyone, no matter how unlikely they may seem as a suspect.”