The Pumpkin Muffin Murder (20 page)

“You’ll have to go now, ma’am,” he told her through the glass and wire as he took hold of Dana’s arms and lifted her to her feet. As little as she weighed, it wasn’t much trouble for him.

Phyllis nodded and said, “Thank you.” She stood up and watched the officer lead Dana out of the room, then went out through the other door into the hall.

Carolyn and Warren Schofield were waiting there for her. “She asked me to call Juliette for her,” she said.

“Good,” Carolyn said. “That’s all we needed to hear.”

Schofield said, “I’d appreciate it if you ladies wouldn’t mention my part in this to Detective Largo. I don’t know if she’d object or not, but I’d just as soon not take that chance.”

“Of course,” Phyllis promised.

Schofield led them back through a maze of hallways to the front of the building. As they stepped into the lobby, he muttered, “Oh, shoot,” and Phyllis immediately saw what had caused him to react that way.

Detective Isabel Largo stood in the lobby, arms crossed over her chest and a glare on her face.

“Officer Schofield, you
are
familiar with proper procedure around here, aren’t you?” she snapped at him.

“Yes, ma’am, Detective,” Schofield replied, obviously trying not to gulp.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out what you were doing? I’m sure you just wanted to help out a couple of nice little old ladies—”

“Don’t blame Officer Schofield,” Phyllis cut in, not bothering to rein in the anger she felt at being described as a nice little old lady. “You may have told him to direct any inquiries about Mrs. Powell to you, but you didn’t tell him that she couldn’t have visitors.”

“He knows the policies.”

“Anyway, Mrs. Powell has the right to call an attorney,” Phyllis said.

“The last time I checked, neither of you ladies has a law degree.”

“No, but we were arranging for her to have legal counsel. She was too upset, and too shocked at being accused of her husband’s murder, to think of it. Why don’t you let the chief and Juliette Yorke hash this out, and leave Officer Schofield out of it?”

Detective Largo frowned. “You’re getting Yorke to represent Mrs. Powell?”

“That’s right.”

After a couple of seconds, Largo shrugged. “She has a right to legal counsel. She was advised of that right. I suppose there’s no harm done here.” She pointed a finger at Schofield. “But you’re on my list now.”

“Sorry, Detective,” he muttered.

Phyllis patted him on the arm. “We’re sorry, too, Officer. If you’d like me to speak to the chief on your behalf . . .”

“No, ma’am. It’s fine.”

“All right. I’ll say hello to Mike for you.”

Schofield grinned. “Thanks.” He leaned closer to Phyllis and lowered his voice. “I may need him to put in a good word for me over at the sheriff’s office.”

Detective Largo got in their way as Phyllis and Carolyn headed for the door. “I’d like to know what Mrs. Powell said to you.”

“I’m not sure I have to tell you that,” Phyllis said.

“They probably have those visiting rooms bugged anyway,” Carolyn put in.

“But really, I just asked her if she had already called a lawyer,” Phyllis went on. “She said she hadn’t and that she didn’t know any. I told her I did and asked her if she wanted me to call Juliette Yorke for her. She agreed.” Phyllis spread her hands. “That was all of it, Detective. Dana started to cry again. The very idea that she’s in jail and being blamed for her husband’s death is just too much for her to handle. That ought to tell you right there that she’s innocent.”

“Or putting on a good act,” Largo said.

Phyllis shook her head. “That was no act.” She had looked into Dana’s eyes and seen nothing except grief and pain and shock. Dana had been too overwhelmed to even feel any anger at being arrested.

“All right, you ignored what I told you about staying out of this,” Detective Largo said, “and you didn’t waste any time about it, either. What are you going to do now?”

“Ms. Yorke is waiting for me to call her,” Phyllis said. “After I’ve done that, I suppose I’m through. I don’t know what else I can do to help Dana.”

“Good. I hope you continue to feel that way.”

With a curt nod, Detective Largo stalked out of the lobby and disappeared down one of the corridors.

“I’m sorry again, Officer,” Phyllis called to Schofield as she and Carolyn went to the front door of the building.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a grin. “But don’t forget to say something to Mike. By the time Detective Largo gets through with me, I really might be looking for a job!”

O
nce they were back in the car, Phyllis called Juliette Yorke right away and told her what had happened.

“All right, I’ll be down there later today to talk to Mrs. Powell and let her know that I’ll be representing her,” Juliette said when Phyllis was finished. “She’ll have to sign some paperwork. Then I’ll call the district attorney and find out what his plans are. If there was any way to get her out today, I would, but as I told you earlier, that’s impossible. First thing in the morning, though, I’ll be doing everything I can to secure bail for her, assuming that she’s still going to be charged with murder.”

“I think you can assume that,” Phyllis said. “Detective Largo is sure that Dana’s guilty.”

“It’s Isabel Largo’s case, is it?” Phyllis thought she heard the same sort of guarded hostility in Juliette’s voice that she had heard in Detective Largo’s when she mentioned the lawyer. Maybe there was some sort of bad blood between the two women. “Well, luckily, from this point on, what happens isn’t really Largo’s call. Her part of the process is pretty much over. It’ll be up to the district attorney whether to proceed or not.”

“Thank you again for taking this case. I didn’t expect you to drop everything to handle it.”

“My schedule isn’t that full right now,” Juliette said. “Besides, what lawyer doesn’t like a good murder case?”

Phyllis wasn’t sure there was such a thing as a good murder case, but she didn’t say that. Instead, she told Juliette, “If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

“All right. I’ll try to keep you informed as to what’s going on, but you realize that my first responsibility is to my client now.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Phyllis said.

She hung up and related Juliette Yorke’s plans to Carolyn, who nodded in satisfaction. “From what I’ve seen of Ms. Yorke, she’s a good lawyer,” Carolyn said. “I just hope she can help Dana.”

Phyllis started the car. “I’m sure she can.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Phyllis asked with a frown.

“You’re going to investigate, too, aren’t you?”

“I don’t want to interfere with whatever Ms. Yorke has planned.”

“If anyone can come up with the evidence to clear Dana’s name, it’s you, Phyllis, and you know it,” Carolyn said. “That lawyer can handle all the legal technicalities, but you’re the one who can uncover the truth. You know the police won’t do it. They’re satisfied that they already have Logan’s killer, and they’re not going to be looking for anything that might contradict that.”

Carolyn had a point. As far as Detective Largo and the rest of the police force were concerned, the investigation had been concluded successfully. All that was left for them was the prosecution of the case against Dana Powell.

“I’ll think about it,” Phyllis said. “I might be able to come up with a few questions. If I do, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt anything to ask around. . . .”

“That’s what I thought. I’d be glad to help you.”

“I’ll let you know.” When she had found herself investigating murders in the past, Sam had usually been at her side. As he put it, she was the brains and he was the brawn. Mostly, though, his intelligence and common sense made him the perfect person to bounce things off of as she was trying to figure out what had really happened. Given Carolyn’s argumentative nature, Phyllis wasn’t sure she could fill that role as well, but she didn’t want to say that to her old friend.

She drove back to the house, mulling over everything Detective Largo had said. Largo seemed to have an answer for everything, but there was one question they hadn’t covered, Phyllis realized.

What was the significance of the pumpkin muffin in Logan’s mouth, and how had it gotten there? If, indeed, Phyllis reminded herself, it really was a pumpkin muffin. . . .

When they got back to the house, they found Sam and Bobby in the garage, standing by the workbench. Bobby was wearing the outsized goggles, and he grinned as he said, “Look at me, Gran’mama. I’m a Martian again!”

“You certainly are,” Phyllis told him. “Thank you for looking after Bobby, Sam.”

“My pleasure,” Sam said. “Heck, I put him to work. He does a good job handin’ boards to me.”

Phyllis saw the curiosity in his eyes and knew he wanted to ask how it had gone with Dana, but he didn’t want to bring up the case in front of the little boy. She said, “Bobby, why don’t you go inside with Carolyn now? I’ll be in in a few minutes.”

Bobby pulled the goggles off. “Okay. I’ll help you paint those boards later, Sam.”

“Sounds like a deal,” Sam told him.

When Carolyn and Bobby had gone in the house, Phyllis said, “We got Juliette Yorke to handle Dana’s case. She’s going to try to get her out on bail tomorrow.”

“That lady lawyer seems pretty smart, from what I’ve seen of her,” Sam said. “How’s Miz Powell holdin’ up?”

“Not well,” Phyllis replied with a shake of her head. “I don’t know how she’s going to get through this.”

“With help from all her friends—that’s how she’s gonna get through it. Same as anybody else.”

Phyllis patted his shoulder. “That’s a nice thought, but there’s only so much that friends can do.” She smiled and shook her head again. “Carolyn thinks that I should investigate the case and try to find out who really killed Logan.”

“So do I,” Sam declared. “Let’s face it: You’re good at pokin’ around in things like that.”

“The last time, my poking around almost got both of us killed.”

“Yeah, but we’re still here and a killer’s behind bars.”

Phyllis couldn’t dispute that point. “I told Carolyn I’d think about it,” she admitted. “I’d really like to know whether or not that was part of a pumpkin muffin in Logan’s mouth, and if it was, how it got there.”

“There you go,” Sam said. “Start with that.”

“Someone needs to look deeper into Logan’s background, too,” Phyllis went on, becoming enthused with the idea despite herself. “The reason he was murdered has to be there. This wasn’t a random killing. It was too well planned for that. Someone must have really hated him to go to so much trouble.”

Sam nodded. “Sounds to me like you’re on the right track. If I can give you a hand, just let me know.”

“I will,” Phyllis promised. She went in the house and got out the phone book. She had some calls to make.

 

 

Not all the numbers Phyllis was looking for were in the book. These days, some people didn’t even have regular telephones, only cell phones, especially younger folks. But Carolyn had the numbers Phyllis couldn’t find, since she had worked with everyone involved in getting ready for the Harvest Festival.

Phyllis made the calls to Kendra Neville, Taryn Marshall, and Jenna Grantham first. She had to leave messages for Taryn and Jenna, but Kendra answered her phone and agreed to meet at Phyllis’s house that afternoon around three o’clock. Then Phyllis called Barbara Loomis, the only one of the three teachers who had a regular phone number listed in the directory.

A man answered. Phyllis said, “Mr. Loomis?”

“Yeah, this is Ben Loomis, if that’s who you’re looking for.”

“Actually, I was hoping to speak to your wife. This is Phyllis Newsom calling.”

“Barbara? Yeah, she’s here somewhere. Wait just a—Hey, I know your name! You’re the lady who’s solved all those murders.”

“Well, there haven’t really been
that
many. . . .”

Loomis laughed. “Hey, solving even one murder is more than I could do. I can’t even tell what’s gonna happen on the TV shows I watch.” The man’s tone grew solemn as he went on. “Is this about what happened to Logan Powell?”

“That’s right,” Phyllis said. She decided that since she was already talking to Ben Loomis, she might as well take advantage of the opportunity to ask him a few questions.

“That was a terrible thing, just terrible,” Loomis went on before Phyllis could say anything. “Logan and I were, I guess you’d say, friendly rivals for several years.”

“That’s right; you were in the same business, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, real estate. Commercial development, mostly. Logan was working on a really big deal. I don’t know what’s gonna happen with it, now that he’s gone.”

“You mean NorCenTex Development?” Phyllis asked.