Death is Long Overdue (Phee Jefferson Book 1) (8 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Parents are like God because you wanna know they're out there, and you want them to think well of you, but you really only call when you need something.” -Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters

At eight o'clock the next morning, I drove to my parents' house to pick up the tables.   Dad was in his striped pajamas and ratty flannel robe that Mom swore she was going to use to scrub the floors but never did.  He slipped on some tennis shoes and helped me pick up the tables and carry them from the garage. We loaded them into the back of Velma. My mom was still in bed recovering from the night before.

"I noticed you and Clint seemed to have something going on between you.  Anything you want to share with your old man?"  Dad hoisted the final table into the van and shut the door.

"Not really sure there is anything to share at this point," I said.  I leaned against the bumper.

"Ophelia, I hate to tell you this, but you wear your heart on your sleeve when it comes to that boy.  You always have."  Dad sat down on the bumper next to me.

"I don't think Rick would be too thrilled with Clint dating his little sister." I plucked at the hem of my cardigan.

"I think Rick is a big boy and needs to realize his baby sister has grown up.  Besides, he and Carrie are going to be tired when the twins are born, he won't have the energy to argue about it," Dad joked.  He leaned over and kissed me on my forehead.  "Follow what's in your heart and you'll be just fine."

I stood up and gave him a hug.  "Thanks, Dad.  I better get going if I don't want to be late for work."  I hopped in Velma, fired her up and headed down the driveway.  I rolled down the window and gave my dad a little wave as I turned out onto the street.

I arrived at work with only a few minutes to spare before opening.  Fortunately, Wade was already there. His years in the military guaranteed he would be on time. He had emptied the book drop and was busy checking in the books.  He was back in the wheelchair.

"Howdy, boss!" Wade said cheerfully. He didn't look the least bit tired despite our late evening.  "Are we all good?"

I raised an eyebrow at him inquiringly.  "With you and Juliet?  Definitely. Let me know if she misbehaves.  I'll put Ex-Lax in her brownies like I did when we were kids.  She was mad at me for a month after that."

Laughing, Wade said, "Will do. Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"What's up with the wheels?" I pointed to his chair.

"I'm still getting used to wearing my new legs.  My knees get really sore where they attach, and last night put a bit of a strain on them.  Even so, it was well worth it to get up and dance to one song."  Wade rolled over to the cart and began to place the books in Dewey Decimal order.

It was time to open, so I left him to his work.  I unlocked the doors and we started our day.  I did story time with the local preschool on Mondays. The children were lined up outside and ready to march in when their teacher gave the okay.  One by one, they trooped in and settled into a semi-circle in front of the Mother Goose chair in the children's zone.  Sitting on the chair, I opened a picture book, and we all giggled and laughed our way through a series of silly rhymes.

At noon, I told Wade I'd be back in an hour and headed downtown to Party Peeps to return the tables.  Once I was finished, I headed across the street to Odd Couple's Diner to grab a cup of coffee and a tuna fish sandwich.  I picked up an extra cup of coffee for Wade and headed back to work.  Parking Velma in the lot next to the library, I headed inside trying to balance the two hot cups of coffee and the bag with my sandwich and chips. The door to the library opened, and Duane Phillips stepped out.

"Let me help you with that, Phee."  Duane hurried to grab one of the cups in my hand.  We walked into the library together. I handed Wade his coffee.

"Thanks, Duane.  Awesome job on the nature program the other week, by the way.  We were talking about you last night as a matter of fact."  I set my bag and coffee on top of my desk.

"All good things, I hope!"  Duane tugged his slouched hat off his dreadlocks.  A slight hint of patchouli hung in the air around him.

"You know Deputy Clint Mason?  He was at my parent's party last night.  He was really interested when he heard you were a mushroom hunter,” I informed him.  "You'll probably be getting a visit from him some time soon."

"You don't say,” Duane said nervously. "Thanks.  I'll keep an eye out for him.  I'd better hit the road.  I've got some, uh, business to take care of."  He walked hurriedly out of the building.

"Well, that was a little odd,” I remarked to Wade.  "Duane just started acting really weird when I mentioned Clint wanted to talk to him about mushroom hunting."

Wade let out a large guffaw.  "No wonder he's nervous.  I don't think he wants the police visiting his trailer in the woods."

"Why not?" I asked.

Wade began to laugh harder. "Never mind.  If you don't know, I'm not going to explain."

Shaking my head, I sat down at my desk. I unwrapped my sandwich and took a bite.  I thought about what Clint had said to me last night regarding the murders.  I had argued with both Huey and Carla within days of their deaths.  It was probably just a coincidence.  Miller's Cove was a small village of less than five thousand people.  I am sure other people knew both of them. Considering how abrasive they both had been, I am sure someone else argued with both of them, too.  Puzzling over this thought, I took another bite of my sandwich.  I swallowed and picked up the phone and dialed Grant's office number.

"Grant Davis," Grant answered.

"Ooh, you sound so grown up!' I joked.

"Phee!  What a great party last night.  Sorry things got a little weird between us," he said.

"No worries.  Hey, the reason I called is that Clint mentioned something to me and since you're an attorney, I wanted to get your opinion.  Both Huey Long and Carla Karsen argued with me shortly before they were killed.  Clint suggested the thing they both had in common was me.  I'm going to go by the sheriff's office later this afternoon to give Sheriff Dawes more information, but I don't know.  I guess I just wanted to hear what you think.  Should I be worried?"  I took a sip of my coffee while I waited for his answer.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much, Phee.  I am sure they both had interactions with lots of people.  The fact that you argued with them both is probably just a coincidence,” Grant reassured me.  "Do you want me to come with you to the sheriff's office? I have an open hour around four o'clock this afternoon."

"Thanks, but no.  I should be alright.  It's just made me a little uneasy. Listen. I’ll call you after I get done and maybe we can grab dinner and rehash it,” I suggested.

"Sounds good, Phee.  I've got to go.  I have a client waiting for me.  Call me when you’re done." He disconnected the line.

I spent the next hour paying bills and ordering books.  At three o'clock, I got up, slipped on a cardigan and walked to the sheriff's office.  I told the receptionist my name and that I was here to talk to Sheriff Dawes.

"Is he expecting you?"  She was polishing her nails and looked annoyed that I had interrupted her.  Miller's Cove was a small town with little crime in the winter beyond a few small busts for illegal possession of pot and the occasional domestic disturbance.  In the summer when the lake cabins rented out, the crime picked up. Even so, we were a safe community.  These two murderers were probably the first in over one hundred years.

"He asked me to stop by this afternoon.  If he's not free, I can come back later."  I waited while she buzzed the sheriff.

"He said to go on back.  First door on the right."  She pointed me in the direction of his office.  The heels of my Mary Janes clicked loudly on the tiles as I walked down the hall.  I knocked on the door jamb outside of Sheriff Dawes' office.

"Come on in, Ophelia.  Great time at your folks' place last night.  Have a seat."  He indicated a sturdy, uncomfortable looking chair in front of his large oak desk.  Files were stacked willy nilly on it. It looked as if the slightest breeze would set everything tumbling. I sat down, crossed my ankles and waited.  "I wanted to follow up with you on what Clint mentioned last night."

"About that Sheriff Dawes..." I began.

"Call me Jaime.  You're no longer a little girl with pigtails."  He gave me a fatherly smile.

"Ok.  Jaime.  I've been thinking about what Clint said about me being what Huey and Carla had in common.  I mean, them both arguing with me," I explained.

"Don't worry, Ophelia.  I verified your whereabouts at the time of death for both victims.  You were at dinner with Juliet when Huey was murdered and at work whenever Carla was poisoned.  To be honest, I think the fact that you argued with the two of them is not that significant.  I'll ask around, but between you and me, neither one of those two was well-liked.  The only reason Carla was on the town council was because no one ran against her." Jaime leaned back in his chair.  "Listen, I'll call you if anything pans out with this idea of Clint's, but I wouldn't worry about it too much."  He stood up.  I stood up, too, and headed towards the door.

"Thanks, Jaime.  You've made me feel a little bit better.  I just feel bad that I argued with them both and then they died."  I headed down the hallway.  The sheriff followed behind me.

"Don't fret too much about it.  Tell your folks thanks again for a great party.  Thanks for stopping by."  He turned and went back to his office.  I left the building and headed back to the library.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“You know, feeling and action are always linked, one can't exist without the other. It's sort of a hippie thing.” -Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever

Once home from work, I remembered I had forgotten to call Grant. I called his cell phone. When I got no answer, I left him a quick message telling him everything went fine at the sheriff's office. I let him know that I had decided to stay in tonight since I was pretty tired from the late night the day before.

I changed into my flannel pajamas with goldfish in top hats and slipped a pair of purple pig slippers onto my feet. I puttered into the kitchen and put some kitty chow down for Ferdie. I opened a can of soup to heat up on the stove for dinner.  Even though it had been warm the past few days, the evening had grown chilly. I decided to start a fire in the fireplace in the living room.  I turned the stove on low, placed the pan of soup on the burner to heat and then headed into the living room.  Dad had brought me a load of wood a few weeks ago. I placed a few logs in the grate.  It took me a few minutes, but once I got a small blaze going, I headed back into the kitchen to eat dinner and enjoy a glass of Cabernet.

The back door in my kitchen opened and Juliet stuck her head in.  "Knock knock!"

"Who's there?"  I answered.

"Juliet."  She knew the drill.

"Juliet, who?"  I played along some more.

"Juliet me in! It's cold outside!"  Smiling, she shrugged off her jacket and slung it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs.  "What's for dinner?  I'm starving!"

"Nothing fancy tonight.  I heated up a can of soup.  I just finished warming it up on the stove if you want some.  There's some cheddar cheese in the refrigerator and some crackers in the cabinet if you want some to go along with the soup.  Open up that bottle of wine while you're at it."  I reached into the cabinet and pulled out two bowls and filled them both with chicken noodle soup.  I placed the bowls on the table and grabbed some spoons from a drawer while Juliet placed the cheese and crackers on a plate. She put it in the middle of the table for us to share.  She poured a glass of wine for herself and another for me and sat down.

"So you and Wade, huh?" I tried to sound nonchalant.

"Me and Wade."  Juliet nodded her head and began to eat her soup.  I waited for her to say something else, but she suddenly became very interested in the bowl in front of her.

"Oh, heck no!  Don't you dare toy with me!  I want details! How long have you been dating?  Is he romantic?  Are you in love?"  The questions tumbled out of me.

"Slow down there, PheePhee.  You're going to give yourself a heart attack!"  Juliet laughed.  "We've been dating for almost two months and yeah, I think it might be love."

"Seriously?!  I have to tell you.  I just didn't think you'd be interested in a guy like Wade.  I mean, you are so free love and kumbaya.  To be honest, I always pictured you with somebody like Duane living down by the water in a refurbished train car or something,” I said it only half-jokingly. My sister was always trying out the next New Age trend.  Last year she was into crystals and tai chi.  This year it was yoga and auras.

"Meh," Juliet shrugged. "Duane and I dated for like a week, but he's a little too psychedelic and out there for me.  Wade's a good balance for me.  He's been through a lot in the past couple of years. He says I bring him peace.  I don't want to say anything else in case I jinx it.  Where's a piece of wood when you need to knock on it."  She looked around the kitchen, leaned over and knocked on my wooden cabinets.  Ferdie looked up from his bowl of chow and gave her a disdainful sniff.

"That's great, Juls.  Wade really is an awesome guy.  Don't go breaking his heart.  I don't want to lose him as my right hand man at the library.  He looks out for me."  I stopped and put my hand to my mouth.

"What?  What's wrong?" Juliet looked at me with growing concern.

"I think I know who killed Huey and Carla,” I said slowly.

"What? Who?  Phee, what the heck are you talking about?" Juliet demanded.

"I don't know.  Maybe I'm wrong, but thinking about how Wade is pretty protective because of being in the military made me think about someone killing to protect me."  I hesitated as I thought some more about my suspicions.

"Are you saying you think Wade killed them?  If you are, I think you have finally lost it!" Juliet protested.

"No!  Not Wade.  Someone who is always looking out for me," I said slowly as the idea formed in my head.

"Well, are you going to keep it to yourself or are you going to share this brilliant deduction of yours?"

“Believe it or not, I think it might be Cincinnati."  Once I said it out loud, it became concrete for me.  Charlie was there in the library when I became angry with Huey Long for grabbing me.  Plus, Charlie had come to my rescue one time before when Huey had made a creepy comment about my legs.  He was also outside of the library the day Carla was really nasty to me.  On top of that, he attended all of the town council meetings since he liked to keep up with local politics.  It made perfect sense.  The icing on the cake was that Charlie was at the fire department's benefit breakfast.  It all added up.

"Really? Charlie Cochran?  Have you finally cracked, Phee?  Charlie is one of the nicest guys in town.  Where's your proof?" Juliet looked at me incredulously.  I explained to her about Charlie being around when I argued with both of them and how he always looked out for me whenever he thought someone was being rude to me.

"Even so, that's pretty thin.  You think he is a murderer because he’s a gentleman and steps in to defend you when someone says something mean to you.  With that thinking, Clint, Wade, Dad, Rick and a dozen other people should be suspects, too," Juliet argued.

"There's only one way to find out," I said.

"How's that?" Juliet asked.

"Investigate!"  I announced triumphantly.  With that settled, I picked up my spoon to eat my soup.

“As long as we don’t have to wear those stupid “L” for loser masks,” Juliet responded grumpily.