Chapter Thirteen #2
MAX HAD TAKEN John Crawford’s advice and now he and state patrolman Larry Burrows were headed for the Wilson house.
The directions were vague, but he’d been told he wouldn’t be able to miss the place.
They’d driven from Grass Range in the direction of Lewistown.
On the way, he filled Larry in on the murder investigation and why he wanted to talk to the Wilson brothers.
“Type O negative blood type?” the patrolman said. “You’re counting on one of the brothers having it?”
“Or maybe even both of them. But otherwise, it’s another dead end.”
“You think the two murders are connected?” Larry asked.
“I do, but I could be wrong about that too. I still don’t have a motive. The two women had little in common other than they both lived at Shady Rest.”
Ahead, Max saw the sign he’d been told to watch for and slowed for the turn onto the narrow gravel road that headed back into the foothills.
“So you just want to talk to them?” the patrolman asked.
“What I really need is their blood type, but I’m hoping there won’t be any bloodshed.”
“You and me both,” Larry said as the Wilson house came into view up the road.
The place had definitely seen better days.
It needed paint and repairs, but the real eyesore was all the junk lying in the yard.
Everything looked as if it had been haphazardly discarded and then forgotten.
There were parts of broken-down cars, motorcycles, washing machines, dryers and refrigerators and miscellaneous furniture that a dozen cats had now taken over.
It was hard to tell if anyone was home, as Max parked next to one of the five vehicles out front. It was also hard to tell if any of them still ran. He watched the house as he killed the engine, figuring they’d probably heard the patrol SUV. After all, John had said the brothers were leery of cops.
“Ready?” he asked the patrolman.
“You’ve heard the stories about the Wilson brothers, right?” Larry asked.
“Not all of them.”
“You were smart not to come alone.”
They stepped out, but hadn’t advanced on the house when the paint-peeling front door opened a crack. “We’re looking for Luther and Abel Wilson,” Max called. “Just need to ask a few questions.”
The door slammed shut. Max could hear what sounded like scrambling inside the house. “This ought to be good,” Larry commented as they both drew their weapons, but stayed next to the patrol SUV for cover.
At the sound of the back door of the house banging open and slamming closed, Max looked up to see two men take off running across the field next to the house. Max and the patrolman holstered their weapons and took off in pursuit after the men.
Max was definitely glad he’d taken John Crawford’s advice and brought backup.
* * *
WHILE DUB TOOK the call from his father, Clancy went looking for a cord to plug in her phone. She wasn’t surprised when she found a drawer in the hallway with an assortment of charging options. Finding the one she needed, she plugged in her phone, then checked out the rest of the guesthouse.
As she did, she saw that Dub had taken the call with his father out onto the deck. She watched him for a moment, feeling guilty for involving his family, but worse for coming between him and his father. She couldn’t imagine that John was happy about what they’d done.
Her stomach growled and she realized that they had barely touched their meals before they’d ended up under the table.
She still felt off-balance from their kiss as she walked back into the kitchen.
Dub had said he would surprise her if she gave him a chance.
He’d certainly done that. Her skin felt sensitive, as if his touch had awakened more than just her desire.
Entering the kitchen, she spotted a couple of rhinestones they’d missed under the table. Bending down, she reached for them. As she did, something shiny caught her eye. Moving closer, she saw that it was a small key. She picked it up along with the rhinestones, and rose, frowning.
A thought struck her as she moved to the spot where Dub had left the large ugly pendant.
It lay face up. Still holding the key, she turned the pendant over.
The back had broken in the fall from the table, exposing what appeared to be a tiny compartment—just large enough to hold a bank security deposit key.
Still holding the key in her palm, she heard Dub come into the room. Turning, she said, “I found something. Maybe the answer to why Esther was murdered.”
His eyes widened as he moved to her. She handed him the key, then showed him the compartment on the back of the pendant. “We would have never known it was there if you hadn’t dropped it. The fall broke part of the door that hid the key.”
Dub looked at the key in his hand, then up at her. “It looks like a bank safety deposit key, but which bank, and what do you think is inside the box?”
She shook her head. “But it has to be something important. Otherwise, why would someone hide it in a piece of cheap jewelry?”
“Why would anyone hide it to begin with?” he asked.
“Because they didn’t want someone finding it,” she said. “But do you think the owner actually wore this pendant? It’s so large and…”
“Ugly?” he supplied. “Maybe it’s a family heirloom.”
“Some family,” she said, but had to agree. “I can’t imagine it belonged to Esther. I’ve never seen her wearing it.”
“So how did she end up with it?” Dub asked.
Clancy groaned. “She must have stolen it. Maybe from one of the residents at the rest home. Which would explain why she was so anxious to get rid of it.”
He set the key down on the table next to the other jewelry and the bag of fake rhinestones and pearls that had fallen off the pendant.
“Maybe the pendant is what the killer was looking for?” she said. “Esther said that what was in the plastic bag was worth more than what she owed me. I didn’t believe her, especially since she so obviously wanted to get rid of it.”
“Which would seem like she didn’t know about the key,” Dub said.
“But she must have known that someone was angry with her, and it had to do with something in the bag. Why else put it in my backpack?”
Dub nodded slowly. “I was just thinking. If you’re right, then the night of her murder the killer came to the apartment for the pendant. Wouldn’t she have told the person what she did with it?
She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. “If you’re asking if Esther would have thrown me under the bus, of course she would have, to save herself.”
He shook his head as he pulled out a chair and sat down. “Clancy, that means the killer knew who you were even before he saw you leaving that night. He would have also known that you had the bag of jewelry.
“The only thing he didn’t know was where to find you when you weren’t at the convenience store or your trailer because you’d left so quickly,” Dub said. “If you hadn’t left like you did…”
Clancy swallowed, her heart thudding at the thought of what would have happened if she hadn’t run.
A chill rattled through her at the memory of that feeling she’d had the night she drove away.
“I must have left just before the killer got there.” She felt her legs weaken under her and sat down at the table.
“Thank God my father picked you up when your car broke down,” Dub said.
She could only nod. Had she been even minutes later that evening, the killer could have followed her down the highway.
“You said your car broke down,” Dub said thoughtfully. “If he knew who you were and he was afraid you might leave…”
“You think the killer did something to my car to make it quit running?” She thought she might throw up.
“Whatever this key opens, what’s inside must be valuable enough to kill for,” he said and met her gaze again.
“I know,” Clancy said, feeling the burn of unshed tears in her throat. “I have to call the sheriff. Isn’t that the advice your father gave you on the phone?”
“Dad was pretty much as I expected. Worried about us, wishing we’d hung around long enough for him to offer sage advice, but understanding.” Dub seemed to hesitate. “I don’t know how you feel, but I’d really like that pendant and key in the sheriff’s hands rather than ours.”
“I agree,” she said. “I’ll call him.” She pushed herself up from the chair. “I plugged my phone in. It should be charged by now.” But as she started to turn down the hall, she saw his expression. “What is it?”
“You might not be able to recognize the killer, but he knows you. Clancy, that’s why you have to be really careful. The killer could be standing right beside you and you wouldn’t know it.”