Band Room Bash (9 page)

“I’ve got to do it. I’m sorry.” Sherry turned teary eyes to me. “Tommy is a suspect in the attack on Ms. Winters.”

“What?” Max’s gaze fell on me and then slid to his eldest son. “Tommy?”

Tommy glared at Sherry. “I told you to wait until I talked to Dad.”

She waved a hand in the air. “I overheard Corporal Fletcher. And my dad is coming to get me after dinner because my car’s in the shop. He doesn’t. . .want Tommy to drive me home. I think it’s because he wonders if Tommy did it.”

“Is this true?” Max asked softly, glancing at me. I knew what he was thinking. He wondered if I knew and hadn’t told him. I wasn’t fooled by the tone of his voice. He speaks very softly when he’s really upset.

“You can’t really be a suspect. You just happened to be there, right?” I looked at our eldest. He wouldn’t meet my gaze.

Charlie bounced in his chair. “Well, Deep Freeze Winters didn’t like you much, did she, Tommy?”

I turned to him. “You called her Deep Freeze?”

“That’s what Tommy and everyone called her. Because of her last name. Winters.” Charlie sounded as though that was the coolest thing in the world, no pun intended.

I didn’t have time to consider that, because Sherry was very near hyperventilation as she reached across the table to grab at my hand. “Please, Mrs. Cunningham.”

I squeezed her hand while I tried to untangle my thoughts. Tommy had absolutely no motivation in the world to kill Georgia. . .

Max cleared his throat. “Why would Eric, uh, Detective Scott, be looking at Tommy as a suspect? Why didn’t someone tell me about this?” He favored me with a quick, narrow-eyed stare that made me feel defensive.

“Last night on the phone, I told you they had interviewed Tommy. You said it didn’t matter. They were doing that to everyone. I mean, how could Tommy be a real suspect?” My voice got louder. “If I haven’t learned anything else, I’ve learned that a good suspect has to have a good motive. That’s the key factor in solving crimes, you know. Motivation. Well,

motivation and. . .accessibility.”

Tommy, Sherry, and Karen stared at me. I could have sworn they weren’t breathing. Then a chill made the hair on my arms stand up, because I realized they knew something I didn’t.

Max leaned forward. “Son?”

Sherry and Tommy exchanged glances. “Tell them, Tommy. If you don’t, I will.”

Tommy’s shoulders sagged. “Well, Ms. Winters said I helped Jason cheat on an English exam. That’s why I was looking for her the day she was killed. I wanted to tell her I didn’t do it.”

“What?” Max and I both said.

Sherry slapped her hand on the table. “He didn’t cheat. Neither did Jason. The problem was we studied together, so our answers were similar. She said she wasn’t going to let Tommy be in the play. Maybe get him expelled. And she was going to get Jason kicked off the football team.”

“What’s ‘expelled,’ Mommy?” Sammie asked.

“Kicked out of school,” I said absentmindedly. Even though I was on the verge of panic, the accusation made no sense to me. Why would Georgia think Tommy was guilty and not Sherry—not that I wanted Sherry expelled either, for several reasons. One, I liked her. Two, she wasn’t guilty. Three, her father would blame Tommy, and vicariously, I would be to blame, too.

I turned to the teenagers. “Is this because of Coach Smith?”

The teenagers looked at each other.

“What are you talking about?” Max asked.

“I’m not sure. I just heard he arranges for his players to get good grades.” All three teenagers were staring at the table. I wanted to say something about the drugs, but I’d wait until I talked to Max alone.

Max’s gaze slid from me to Tommy. “Why was Georgia Winters fixated on you?”

Tommy finally looked up. “I don’t know. She used to like me.”

Sherry met my gaze, and I read a silent plea.

“This could really mess up my college plans,” Tommy said.

I felt as close to hyperventilation as Sherry was acting. Yes, cheating would certainly mess up Tommy’s college plans. So would being accused of Georgia’s murder.

Max stood and told Tommy to meet him in his office. Charlie scampered upstairs to his room. Sammie followed him with a purposeful look on her face. I had a feeling she wanted him to explain to her more about what was going on. She figured Charlie would know because he loved crime and detective shows. Karen and Sherry carried leftovers into the kitchen.

I stacked dirty dinner plates at the dining room table, ignoring my husband, who was standing next to his chair. I didn’t like his body language, which was all stiff like a mad dog. “Trish—”

“Max, don’t say a word. I’m just keeping clues in a notebook.” I began to gather up silverware. “I didn’t know any of this. But I heard something today about drug use, too. That Coach Smith used drugs to help his players.”

Max was breathing hard again. “Was that from a reliable source?”

I thought about Bagger Dude. “No, probably not.”

“Sherry shouldn’t have asked you to investigate. Her father is the detective.” Max shook his head. “I thought Tommy was with you when you discovered Georgia.”

I looked up at him. “Well, he was. Sort of. I mean, he got there after I got there. I don’t know where he’d been. I really didn’t think it was that big a deal.” I gulped. “This looks bad, Max. I can’t honestly say that Tommy didn’t do it, although I know he didn’t.”

Max had a hard, cold look in his eyes that I rarely saw. “I need to go talk to Tommy. We’ll be in my office.” He whirled on his heel and strode down the hall.

The older girls helped me clean the kitchen. None of us spoke. I was surprised that Sherry stayed, since it appeared Tommy would be busy the rest of the evening, but she lingered even after the dishes were done and Karen had left the room.

“I thought your dad was coming to get you,” I said.

“He is, pretty soon.” She crossed her arms. “I wanted to talk to you alone, though.”

“Okay.” I motioned to the kitchen table. I hoped this wasn’t going to be something like a confession of true love for my son. I wasn’t ready for anything like that. But my worry was squelched when I saw a steely flash in her eyes. The look wasn’t that of a young lady about to announce her true love.

As we sat down, I studied her face. She had the angular look of Detective Scott, but her bones were finer. She still hadn’t grown into her features, and she would never be a classic beauty, but I could tell that when she hit her midtwenties, men would be falling all over her.

She placed her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together as if in supplication. “Mrs. Cunningham, please solve this mystery.”

“Call me Mrs. C.,” I said to distract her, because I didn’t know how to reply.

She nodded. “Okay, but please? Solve the mystery.”

“Sherry, you know your dad doesn’t want me involved.” I wasn’t about to tell her I was already keeping notes. Her intense gaze made me uneasy. My fingers danced a rhythm on the table while I tried to figure a way out of this conversation.

“My dad can be pretty pushy,” she admitted.

“That’s putting it mildly,” I murmured, hoping I would never again have another interview session with him.

“Yeah, and he really likes to get confessions out of people. He took classes to learn how to do that.” She sighed. “I’ve never been able to keep the truth from him—at least in the long run. Sometimes being a cop’s kid is really, really hard. I mean, I have to live up to all these standards. Even when I wasn’t living with him. Now it’s worse.”

I could only imagine. And to make things harder, her mom wasn’t around to balance things out.

“I understand he’s tough. We’ve had, uh, discussions in the past.”

She returned my smile. “Well, he has made a couple comments about the Cunningham stubbornness.”

I felt a brief sense of accomplishment that the bullheaded detective thought I was worthy of comment.

“My dad is a really good cop,” she said. “I can admit that, even if I don’t want to live with him. But see, he can’t find out things like you can. People treat cops differently than they would regular folks. Honestly, cops act different, too.” She paused and eyed me. “And I’m in an even better place to find out things. We could work together. You and me.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “No way. Not only is that unsafe, but your father would find a reason to lock me up and throw away the key.” I stood, placed my hands flat on the table, and stared down at her. “At the very least, he’d accuse me of contributing to your delinquency.”

“Well, then, let’s hope he doesn’t find out.” She stood, too, and faced me across the table. “I’ve thought a lot about this. My aunt is at our house, and that’s distracting my dad. She could be a problem, but I can work around her. I have to go to school anyway. That’s where I’m going to look for things.”

“I don’t—”

“How can it be dangerous?” she continued. “I’ll just be listening. Most adults don’t pay attention to kids, and they say a lot of things when they think we’re not listening. I could start writing things down like Tommy says you do, and we could compare notes.”

So much for not telling her about my notebook. I wanted to shake her. Was this how frustrated Max felt with me sometimes? Tiredness hit me. I needed to sleep. I’d be able to think better tomorrow morning.

I met her gaze. “No, I can’t let you do it. It’s bad enough for adults.”

Sherry lifted her chin. “Actually, I just turned eighteen. I am an adult.”

At my frown, she nodded. “It’s true. Because of the divorce and all, I repeated first grade.”

“That doesn’t mean your father won’t be mad when he finds out. And, believe me, somehow he’ll find out. It also doesn’t mean you’ll be safe. I’ll feel responsible.”

She leaned across the table, facing me nose to nose. “Mrs. C., if you won’t let me help you, I’m doing it myself. No one is going to stop me.”

In the end, what could I say?

Chapter Eight

“So Cunningham & Son will buy an ad for the program, right?” I asked Max as he passed through the kitchen behind me.

He grunted in the affirmative.

“Are you still mad at me?” I shoved the last of the dirty cereal bowls into the dishwasher.

“I was never mad at you.”

“Well, irritated, then?” I turned to face him.

He was standing by the door to the garage, dressed in his usual Wednesday navy pinstripe power suit. Normally it made me want to loosen his red tie and smother him with kisses, but today he looked icy and formidable.

“I just wish someone had told me the police suspected Tommy.”

I opened my mouth to protest, and he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“I understand what you said. There’s no way you could have known that Tommy was a serious suspect. I’m not blaming you.”

“But you’re irritated with me.”

“Why would you say that?”

I crossed my arms. “You hardly talked to me last night. You didn’t even kiss me good night.”

That’s when he finally smiled. “Honey, you went to bed early while I was still talking to Tommy. You were sound asleep when I came upstairs. I did kiss you; you just didn’t wake up.”

That was no excuse, as far as I was concerned. “So you’re going to talk to Carla today about Tommy cheating?” I turned away from him and shut the dishwasher door harder than I intended. “I can do it, you know. Besides, I’m mad at her because she didn’t say anything to me about all this yesterday at the store.”

“I’m sure you could talk to her just fine, but I’ll take care of it.” I glanced at him over my shoulder, and he raised an eyebrow. I knew he was thinking he didn’t want to set me loose on Carla. That was wise. “Furthermore, I don’t think you should be involved anymore. Knowing that Eric is seriously looking at Tommy and some of the other people at the school as suspects scares me. It’s probable the murderer isn’t just some stranger who happened to be passing by.”

At last. Someone saw the crime the way I did. I pulled the kids’ lunches from the refrigerator. “Do you remember when I was investigating Jim Bob’s murder?”

“That would be hard to forget,” he murmured in a facetious tone I couldn’t miss.

I ignored that and pressed my point while I slipped cookies into each lunch container. “Well, after you got all obsessive about me doing that, and we had a huge fight, you said you were going to stop being so bossy and overbearing.”

“Yes, I know, but that was before. . .” His voice drifted off.

I dropped the last package of cookies into the lunches and turned to face him. “Before what?”

He inhaled and averted his gaze. “Before Tommy was involved.”

“And you don’t think that’s a good reason for me to help?” I planted my hands on my hips. “Lots of people think I have a talent for being a sleuth. My mother, for one.”

Max closed his eyes, inhaled, and opened them again. “Trish, I have no doubts about you being a good sleuth. You have that sort of mind. But right now, you’re pregnant.”

“Max, we agreed the night before last. I’ve already started my clue notebook. I can sleuth and not be in danger.”

A grim smile flashed across his lips. “And pigs fly.” Hearing a cliché of my mother’s coming from the mouth of my sophisticated husband made me laugh.

“You don’t need to worry,” I assured him. “I have plans.”

His nostrils flared. “Plans? Like what kind of plans?”

“I’m getting off work early today for a play committee meeting. But before I go to the school, I’m going to Ma’s shop to ask her to buy a full-page ad in the school play program. I also want to see if she’s heard anything that would be useful. Then I’m going to buy doughnuts to take to the meeting. You know the effect my mother’s doughnuts have on people. Makes them giddy. Maybe someone will talk.” I reached up and put my hands on his shoulders. “That should be harmless enough.”

“Right.” He eyed me. “Will all the main suspects be there?”

“Well, the football team and the football coach won’t be there.” I stared at him. “But lots of other people will be there.”

“You mean lots of other suspects will be there.” He sighed and hugged me. I snuggled against him as best I could with my tummy in the way. “Oh, all right,” he said. “I’m not going to be able to stop you, anyway.”

I dropped my arms. “Is anything else wrong?”

The wrinkles on his forehead deepened and he picked up his briefcase. “Isn’t the problem with Tommy enough?”

“Don’t worry, Max. Everything will be fine.”

“I wish I could believe that,” he said.

Doris’s Doughnuts is a favorite hangout for everyone, from construction workers to cops. My mother started the business years ago in a little strip mall, selling coffee and doughnuts made from recipes perfected when I was just a tot. Now she’s added other pastries, along with breakfast and lunch sandwiches.

When I pulled up, I could see that she had plenty of customers, even though it was after lunch. I grabbed my purse, crawled from my SUV, and took a deep breath to prepare myself to enter the fray.

Over half the tables in the dining area were filled, and heads turned when I walked through the door. A few people waved. Gail, my mother’s best friend and right-hand gal, was stacking blue coffee mugs behind the counter.

She looked up and stared at me. “Doris,” she yelled. “You’ll never believe who just walked in.” Her voice was loud enough for people out in the parking lot to hear her.

“Who?” My mother’s equally loud voice roared from the back room.

I braced myself for what was coming.

Gail cocked an ample hip against the counter. “I’m not sure I remember her name. It’s been so long.”

“Oh, come on.” April May Winters, my mother’s left-hand gal, paused in the midst of making an espresso. “Don’t give her a hard time.” She smiled at me, her bright hazel eyes sparkling.

Something niggled at my brain about April— something my mother had said—but I didn’t have a chance to explore my thoughts, because my mother walked out of the back room, mouth first, wiping her hands on a towel.

“You must mean my daughter. Although I don’t know if I would even recognize her. I haven’t seen her in so long. I talk to her friend Abbie more than I talk to her. Abbie’s coming to dinner on Friday.”

I took a deep breath. “Hi, Ma. You know we’ll be at your house on Friday, too.”

She slapped the towel down on the counter, crossed her arms, and glared at me. I’d seen her just the previous weekend, but she conveniently didn’t mention that. For a short time after Jim Bob’s murder was solved, I’d been in her good graces. She was proud that I had, as she put it, single-handedly solved the murder for the police. I hadn’t, of course, but no one can convince my mother of anything she doesn’t want to believe. My notoriety wore off after a couple of weeks, and things returned to normal, which meant she was back to manipulation and minor insults. But her present glare was not normal.

I leaned my elbows on the counter and stared down through the glass at the fatty circles. “I need two dozen doughnuts. Your choice.” I eyed my mother and lowered my voice. “What’s wrong, Ma?”

Gail harrumphed, grabbed a box, and snatched up doughnuts like she was picking Japanese beetles from a prize rosebush.

“I heard Tommy is a suspect in the attack on Georgia Winters,” Ma said, not lowering her voice. “The police questioned him. And you didn’t even call me.”

The murmurs from the room behind me stopped. If the whole world hadn’t known about Tommy before, it did now.

“He wasn’t accused of a crime, Ma. Don’t you think I have enough on my mind right now without worrying about who knows what?”

“And even worse than anything,” she continued as though I hadn’t said a word, “you were once again involved in a criminal investigation and didn’t call me. I had to call you, remember? I mean, really. You find that Winters woman sprawled all over the band room, drenched in her own blood, and you didn’t even see fit to let your own mother know. Why, I attended the garden club every month for years with Georgia’s grandmother, not that you would recall. I’ve known her since before you were born. You know, one day I’ll be dead and buried next to your father, and. . .”

She ranted on, but I wasn’t listening. I had just remembered that my mother told me Georgia was thinking of selling the farm and April’s last name was Winters. Was she a relation?

“Trish, are you listening to me?”

I looked up at my mother. She was standing directly in front of me. I hadn’t even seen her move.

“Sorry, Ma.” I needed to distract her. I leaned harder against the counter. “Being pregnant and all. . .I can’t quite. . .well, I’m just so tired. . . .” I ended on a sigh, letting my words fade into the air. Inwardly, I smiled at my acting job. It’s only fair that once in a while I turn the tables on the master manipulator, especially when it’s to my benefit.

Her expression immediately changed to one of concern. “For heaven’s sake! Why are you standing there? Go sit down. Are you trying to kill my newest grandchild before it’s born?” She turned to April. “Make her a decaf latte with whole milk right now. I’ll make a turkey club.”

“But, Ma, I’m not hungry. I’m—”

“Don’t argue with me, young lady.” She pointed toward an empty table. “You’re going to eat. Go sit down.”

I ignored the surreptitious stares from everyone seated in the dining area and glanced at my watch as I obeyed my mother’s orders. Fortunately, I had plenty of time to snack and still arrive at the high school early. I wanted to check out the band room.

Less than five minutes later, April delivered my sandwich and drink.

I waved at a chair. “Can you take a break for a couple of minutes?”

She glanced over at my mother, who was making an espresso for a local dentist. “Doris? You mind if I sit down with Trish?”

“I’d like the company,” I whined for my mother’s benefit as I tried to look drawn and weak. “It’ll help me eat.”

“Sure. Go on,” Ma said. “It’s time for your break, anyway. Besides, it’ll do Trish good.”

I took a bite of my sandwich while April grabbed a cup of coffee and a chocolate biscotti. By the time she joined me, I had made a big dent in my sandwich.

She dropped into a chair across from me and smiled then took a sip of coffee.

I wiped my mouth. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to Georgia Winters, would you?”

April’s smile died as if I’d slapped her. “Yes, I am. On my dad’s side. The whole thing isn’t a great topic with my family, and it’s even worse right now.”

I took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be insensitive, but why?”

April rubbed her fingers on the coffee mug. “I’m really not sure. We think Granny Nettie is going senile. Georgia was taking care of her, but Granny was starting to need more care, like a home, so when Connie moved back, she started pitching in during the day while Georgia was at work. But then she started fighting with Georgia.”

“Why?”

“Well, Georgia was getting tired. The farm was too much to take care of on top of everything else. She wanted to sell everything. But here’s the rub. She wanted to put Granny Nettie in a home. Connie didn’t. She thought things should continue the way they were.”

“So what’s the relationship between Georgia, Connie, and Nettie? Why were they caring for her?”

“She’s their aunt. Her husband died really young in some farming accident. They didn’t have kids, so when Georgia and Connie were young, they spent every summer with her on the farm, and she just started treating them like her kids.” April clicked her fingernail on the side of her coffee mug. “Things aren’t good right now. And without Georgia, we’re all sure Granny Nettie will have to go to a home. But Connie is insisting no. The bad thing is that Granny is losing things.”

“Losing things? Like misplacing them?”

“That’s what they say. It’s that senile thing. She puts things places to keep them safe. Like, once she put her purse behind the ironing board in the laundry room. No one found it for days. But the really bad thing is that she’s misplaced some valuable jewelry and knickknacks. Family heirlooms, I hear. The girls looked high and low for everything but found nothing.”

“I’m sorry. That’s horrible.”