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Authors: Lee Hollis

Death of a Country Fried Redneck (Hayley Powell Food and Cocktails Mysteries) (23 page)

BOOK: Death of a Country Fried Redneck (Hayley Powell Food and Cocktails Mysteries)

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Chapter 34

“He didn’t do it. He couldn’t have,” Liddy said as she picked the top off one of Hayley’s homemade blueberry muffins and popped it in her mouth.

Hayley put on a checkered oven mitt and pulled a tray out of the oven with eight bubbling piping-hot orange cranberry muffins. She upended them into a wicker basket lined with a paper towel to cool. “How do you know that?”

“Because I know he has an alibi on the night of the murder.”

“God, Liddy, please, don’t tell me that in addition to Mickey Pritchett, you were also seeing Ned Weston on the side!”

“Of course not! Just the thought of Ned Weston makes my skin crawl.”

“And Mickey Pritchett was such a winner?”

“I didn’t say I’m not capable of misjudgment. Mickey was new to town. He was fresh meat. A charmer. He swept me off my feet before I realized what a complete loser he was. Ned, on the other hand, well, he’s been around forever. Long enough for me to know better!”

After receiving the call from Sergio about Ned’s confession, Hayley went into baking mode, something she often did to calm her nerves.

Hayley knew she should be feeling an enormous sense of relief now that Mickey Pritchett’s killer was finally behind bars.

But she didn’t.

Far from it.

She was antsy, and worried about Carrie, and still trying to put all the pieces together in her mind.

Something just didn’t add up.

Liddy had dropped by unexpectedly—as she always did, since she didn’t really believe in calling first—in time to be the taster for all the different kinds of muffins Hayley was baking. Hayley figured she could drive the muffins over to the Criterion and hand them out to Wade’s band and crew before the concert.

Liddy picked the top off one of the orange cranberry muffins and took a bite. “Oh, these are even better than the blueberry ones.”

“Liddy, why do you think Ned Weston is innocent?”

“Ask Michelle.”

“Michelle Butterworth? Who works part time at my brother’s bar?”

“Yes. Rumor has it she’s been secretly seeing Ned.”

“Are you serious? Michelle is so pretty and nice and Ned is so . . .”

“There’s no accounting for taste.”

“You should know,” Hayley said, grinning.

“Do you constantly have to remind me of my brief foray into utter insanity? It’s never going to happen again. Trust me.”

“Yes. Now that Mickey Pritchett is dead.”

“Look, this isn’t about me. This is about Ned and Michelle. And I know for a fact that the two of them have been canoodling on Lex’s boat the last couple of weeks. He’s been after her for some time and she finally relented.”

“Okay, so let’s assume this is true, what you’re saying. How does this give Ned an alibi on the night of Mickey’s murder?”

Liddy dropped the bottom uneaten half of her orange cranberry muffin dramatically and stared at Hayley. “Because Mona told me she saw them sharing a bottle of wine on Lex Bansfield’s boat around ten-thirty on the night of the murder when she went to drop some new lobster traps off at her own boat, which is tied up near Lex’s. She was in her outboarder and when they heard her approaching, they made a big production of grabbing the bottle and hurrying below deck so she wouldn’t see them together. Mona spent the next two hours stacking the traps and they never left.

“Given the time frame of the murder, there was no way Ned could’ve slipped away and shot Mickey, let alone drive the tour bus to Albert Meadow and set it on fire.”

“Why didn’t Mona say anything to me?”

“You know how annoying Mona can be about not getting involved in other people’s business. It really drives me nuts. And, besides, Ned Weston wasn’t a suspect at the time, so she probably didn’t even think to say anything. The only reason she told me is because she was making fun of me for sleeping with that skeevy Pritchett character. She said I had worse taste than Michelle when it came to men. That peaked my interest and I got her to tell me what she saw.”

“Why were Ned and Michelle keeping their relationship a secret?”

“Michelle used to babysit Ned’s daughter, Carrie. They were very close when Carrie was a little girl. They probably didn’t want her to be weirded out by her dad dating the babysitter.”

Hayley methodically stirred some batter in a large bowl with a wooden spoon, her mind working overtime. “Well, she’s going to have to fess up. Once she finds out Ned is being accused of murder, she’s going to have to come forth and provide him with an alibi.”

“What I don’t understand is, why didn’t Ned immediately admit to being with Michelle when he was arrested,” Liddy said. “Sergio could have just brought Michelle in and she could’ve cleared the whole thing up. I mean, I understand protecting your daughter’s feelings, but it’s a little extreme to be willing to take the rap for murder just so she doesn’t find out you’re banging the babysitter!”

“Of course!” Hayley screamed, dropping the bowl to the floor, shattering it.

The batter seeped out in a thick gooey mess.

Leroy was on the spilled batter in seconds, excitedly lapping it up.

“What?” Liddy asked.

“Mona is a pretty reliable witness, so we can assume Ned Weston was on that boat the whole time. So
why
would Ned confess?”

“He has to be covering for someone else,” Liddy offered, suddenly intrigued, and grabbed another muffin from the basket.

“And there’s only one person in the whole world Ned loves enough to lie for and to risk a life sentence for murder.”

“I don’t like muffins,” Ned growled, turning away from Hayley.

Hayley held up her wicker basket and took a whiff. “Come on, Ned. They smell delicious and they taste even better.”

Ned faced the cement wall in the jail cell. He refused to even look at Hayley. “What do you want? I told Sergio I didn’t want to see anyone.”

“Not even Carrie?”

Hayley saw Ned flinch.

There was a long moment of silence before he spoke again.

“Especially Carrie. How could any father want his daughter to see him like this?”

“I know we’re not the best of friends, Ned . . .”

“That’s putting it mildly . . .”

“But we’re both parents and I know how much we both love our kids. And I know the lengths we’d go to, to protect them . . .”

“Forget it, Hayley. I’m in no mood for a bonding session with you.”

“Where is Carrie now?”

“With her grandmother in Bangor. I made sure Sergio delivered her there safely while I deal with all this. So don’t even think about bothering her. The last thing she needs is to worry.”

“But she’s going to find out, Ned. And then what do you think she’s going to do? Let you rot in prison? When she knows you didn’t do it.”

“What are you talking about? I confessed. It’s over. Done. Case closed.”

“I’m sorry, Ned. We both know it’s not. I have a very reliable eyewitness who can place you on Lex Bansfield’s boat with Michelle Butterworth on the night of the murder. I’m sure Michelle will be scared enough of a perjury charge to back the witness up.”

Ned slowly turned around to face Hayley, eyes blazing. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying you are covering for someone. And we both know who that is.”

Ned glared at her and his lips tightened.

“Carrie already told me she went to the Harborside Hotel the night Mickey Pritchett was murdered. Mickey was pressuring her to have sex with him, but she decided meeting Wade Springer wasn’t worth all that. So she went to the hotel to tell him it was a no-go.”

“So what? That doesn’t mean she killed him.”

“Who else would know where you stash your gun in the house? Carrie probably figured she might need protection when she went to tell Mickey she wasn’t going to give him what he wanted. He could’ve lured her onto the tour bus. Maybe he got a little rough. Tried to force himself on her. I know from personal experience, Mickey was that kind of creep. So Carrie would have had no choice but to shoot him.”

Ned shook his head, eyes pleading with Hayley to stop.

But she couldn’t.

“And then Carrie probably panicked and somehow drove the tour bus to Albert Meadow and set it on fire to cover her tracks.”

Even as she was saying it, Hayley didn’t quite believe it.

When Hayley had gone to talk to Carrie at her house while Mona distracted Ned with that bogus lobster order, Carrie had seemed so convincing.

Hayley had no reason to doubt what Carrie had told her. That when she left Mickey, he was still alive.

But there was the possibility that Carrie was just so scared of going to jail, she put on the performance of a lifetime to deflect suspicion.

Carrie Weston had to be lying.

Hayley stepped closer to the bars and spoke softly. “When those kids found your gun washed up on the rocks on Bar Island, you knew right then and there, in your gut, what really happened. And you made a vow to protect Carrie at all costs, no matter what.”

Ned sprang off the cot and rushed toward the steel bars separating them. He shot his arm through to make a grab for Hayley’s throat.

Muffins flew in every direction as the basket fell from Hayley’s arms and hit the floor.

She managed to avoid Ned’s grasp by jumping back.

Ned was hollering at the top of his lungs. “You leave her out of this! Do you hear me, Hayley? I will kill you if you drag her into this!”

Hayley just stood there, her back pressed to the wall opposite the cell, near tears, trying to catch her breath as Sergio pounded down the hall.

“What happened here? Hayley, are you all right?”

Hayley nodded.

“She’s out of her mind, Sergio,” Ned wailed. “She’s making things up!”

Hayley fixed her gaze on Ned, who now paced the cell like a caged tiger, ready to attack again given the slightest opportunity.

“Hayley . . . ?” Sergio said, a confused look on his face.

She didn’t have to say anything.

She could let Ned take the fall and Carrie would be raised by her grandmother and nobody would ever have to know the truth.

It was an accident, after all.

Carrie wasn’t some cold-blooded, calculating killer.

Or was she?

It wasn’t fair to anyone to conceal something like this.

If she stayed silent, Hayley would never be able to live with herself.

“Sergio, we need to talk,” Hayley said, starting to choke up.

Ned sank to his knees, weeping.

The thought of his baby girl going to jail was just too much to bear.

Chapter 35

Hayley was exhausted by the time she left the police station. Sergio dispatched Donnie and Earl to drive to Bangor and pick up Carrie at her grandmother’s house. It was only a matter of time before word spread around town that Carrie Weston was actually the one responsible for the death of Wade Springer’s roadie.

The sun was already going down, and Hayley had to race home to get ready for Wade’s concert.

But there was something important she had to do first.

She had to talk to Gemma.

Hayley didn’t want her hearing about Carrie on Facebook or Twitter or any of the other social media sites she and her friends used to chat and keep abreast of all the latest gossip.

Hayley knew in her heart Carrie had to have killed Mickey Pritchett in self-defense. She saw firsthand the kind of guy Mickey Pritchett was. And there wasn’t a mean bone in Carrie’s body as far as she could see.

But she also knew Gemma would take the news about her close friend hard. And she wanted to break it to her gently.

When Hayley walked through the back door of the house, she could hear the TV blasting in the living room.

It was music from the movie
Hairspray
.

Gemma’s favorite movie of all time.

It was the song “Mama, I’m a Big Girl Now.” And Hayley had to stop and smile. How appropriate.

She spent half her time worrying about Gemma. The other half, she spent worrying about Dustin.

But with Gemma’s blossoming romance with Reid, Hayley had been particularly concerned about her daughter growing up so fast. So maybe this was a sign from the universe to let go just a little bit and recognize her daughter as the young woman she was becoming, capable of making smart decisions.

Yeah, right.

Like that was going to happen.

Maybe when Gemma was thirty-five, Hayley would stop worrying.

What if this was just part of being a mother and she would worry no matter how old her kids were?

That was just too much to think about.

Hayley rounded the corner into the living room and was not surprised to see Gemma nestled on the couch, her head on Reid’s broad shoulder, watching the movie.

“Hi, Mrs. Powell,” Reid said in an upbeat, chipper tone.

“Hello, Reid,” Hayley said, trying not to sigh with disappointment that Gemma had a boy in the house without her permission.

Gemma held up a half-f bowl of popcorn. “We have snacks. Want to watch with us? Your favorite part is coming up—John Travolta in drag dancing with Christopher Walken.”

Hayley smiled. “That’s your uncle Randy’s favorite part. I’m all about Queen Latifah singing ‘Big, Blonde and Beautiful’ because, inside, I’ve always thought of myself as all those things even though I’m not blonde or beautiful, but I’m certainly big!”

Reid chuckled.

Hayley cleared her throat. “Reid, I was wondering if I could talk to Gemma alone.”

“Sure, Mrs. Powell,” Reid said, stretching and making a move to stand up.

Gemma grabbed his sweater and pulled him back down. “Mom, please, anything you say to me you can say in front of Reid.”

“It’s about Carrie,” Hayley said.

Gemma gasped and jumped off the couch. “What? Has something happened to her?”

“Reid, would you mind taking Leroy out for a walk around the block? He’s been cooped up inside all day and I’m sure he needs to do his business. There are plastic bags—”

“Mom!” Gemma interrupted. “Reid is Carrie’s friend, too. I’m sure he’ll want to know what’s going on.”

“Okay,” Hayley said, putting an arm around her daughter. “She wasn’t totally truthful with me when I went to talk to her about the night of Mickey Pritchett’s murder. She said when she left Mickey, he was still alive. But it turns out she stole her father’s gun and shot him. Now, I’m sure he must have tried to attack her, and so obviously if it was self-defense there’s a chance . . .”

“Mom, there’s no way Carrie shot that guy.”

“It turns out her father’s gun is the same one that was used to kill Mickey. But Ned Weston was nowhere near the scene of the murder and Carrie was the only one who had access to it, and we already know she was being propositioned by Mickey. All the pieces fit.”

“But I know for a fact that when she left Mickey he was still alive.”

“How?”

Gemma glanced at Reid and swallowed before locking eyes with her mother. “Because I was with her.”

“Gemma, why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I didn’t want you to freak out and ground me or punish me by saying I couldn’t spend time with Reid.”

Reid’s eyes were downcast and he was probably wishing he had accepted Hayley’s request to take Leroy for a walk and clean up after him right about now.

Gemma sat back down next to Reid and put a hand on his knee. “Carrie called me that night to say she was going over to the hotel to tell Mickey to go to hell. She was never going to sleep with him. Under any circumstances. I begged her not to go. I knew Mickey might not take no for an answer. So I borrowed your car and raced over there to make sure she was all right. I know, I didn’t ask or leave a note. I’m sorry. I was just so worried about Carrie.”

“That’s okay. Go on,” Hayley said.

“I got there just in time to see Carrie running out of the hotel. That greaseball Mickey was right behind her still trying to paw her and talk to her. I waved her into the car and we took off leaving him in the dust. Then we dropped the car off here at our house and walked back to her place where I spent the night. Her father wasn’t home.”

“Yes. I know where Ned was that night.”

“Carrie never said anything to you about me being there because she didn’t want to get me into trouble,” Gemma said. “She didn’t have a gun, Mom. Carrie gets freaked out by guns. And she never left my side again the whole night so there was no way she could’ve doubled back and shot Mickey and driven him to Albert Meadow.”

Reid took Gemma’s hand, which was resting on his knee, and squeezed it. “Gemma, are you just saying this to cover for Carrie? I know you’d do anything for her. She’s your best friend.”

Hayley was surprised Reid was saying what she was thinking.

Gemma arched her back, indignant. “Of course not. I wouldn’t do something like that. Carrie is innocent. And she shouldn’t go to jail for something she didn’t do.”

Hayley believed her. She nodded. “You two get back to your movie. I’m going upstairs to get ready for Wade’s concert.”

Hayley’s head was swimming.

She was frustrated to be back at square one.

What was she missing?

Who was left?

Wade.

Stacy Jo.

Curtis.

Ned.

Carrie.

Even Liddy.

All cleared.