6 Death Takes The Blue Ribbon (6 page)

Chapter Eleven

I watched them put everything into separate evidence bags, and then T.J. carried the albums out to the car for me, placing them in the front seat. “It doesn’t look good for Gladys, does it?” I asked him as I took off the gloves and booties.

He shook his head. “No, it doesn’t,” he replied, taking the protective gear from me. “How well do you know her?”

“She’s a friend of Mother’s. I’ve known her all my life.”

“Did you ever see anything to indicate that the two of them were having serious problems?”

“No, not anything that she would kill him for. They were always nasty to each other, but not in a mean sort of way. More of a ‘we’re married, and I enjoy yanking your chain once in a while’ kind of way, although there were times when the comments were intentionally mean. Even the people you love can do stupid things that can upset you.”

He stared into my eyes. “Yes, they can, but I’m sure they don’t mean to hurt the other person.”

There were butterflies in my stomach as he said that. I knew what he meant, but I wasn’t ready to go down that road, not yet. “Sometimes it takes a while to forgive, and sometimes things don’t always go back to the way they were.”

I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes, but I couldn’t help that. “You should get those albums over to Gladys. She was anxious to have them.”

I swallowed hard. “Right,” I said, pulling my keys out of my pocket. “Thanks for carrying those out here.”

“No problem. Glad to help,” he said, opening the driver’s side door. I got in and he closed the door. I started the car and lowered the window. “I’d like to see you later, if that’s alright.”

“Maybe,” I said. “I’ll let you know.”

“Fair enough,” he replied, stepping out of the way. He watched me drive off.

I was still trying to figure out what was bugging me about the Norwells’ garden when I parked in front of Iris’ house. It was similar to Gladys’ house, except it was a light blue with white trim. The front door opened, and Iris came out. She stood on the porch as I gathered the photo albums in the front seat. One of them fell sideways from the seat onto the floorboard, and I picked it up, putting it on top. “Here, let me help you with those,” Iris said, coming down the steps toward me.

Gratefully, I let her take half of the large albums. “How’s she doing?”

Iris shook her head. “She’s fluctuating between denial and grief. I’m going to have to buy more tissues soon; she’s already gone through three boxes, bless her heart.”

“Mom says you were all childhood friends,” I said.

“That’s true,” Iris confirmed. “Our families were all good friends, so it was natural that the three of us became good friends as well. Goodness, these things are heavy!”

I followed her into the house. Iris put the albums on the coffee table in front of the couch, which is where Gladys was sitting. “Hello, Gladys,” I said, sitting next to her on the couch. “I hope I brought the albums you wanted. They were the only ones we found in the master bedroom.”

“These are the ones I wanted. Thank you, dear,” she said absentmindedly, patting my left hand. I looked at Iris, who shrugged.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Are the police through searching the house yet?”

I hesitated, unsure of what I should say. “Um, no, not yet. They were still there when I left.”

“I don’t know why Owen and that deputy of his are even bothering. They aren’t going to find anything,” she said, squeezing my hand as she got more upset. I used my free hand to remove her fingernails from my trapped hand.

“Of course they won’t,” Iris reassured her. She looked at me, and even though I did my best not to give anything away, she knew right away that something was wrong. “What’s wrong, Lizzie? Did they find something?”

“Well…errr…it’s not my place to say, Iris,” I stammered. “I’m sure the police will talk to Gladys about anything they find during their search.”

“Would you like something to drink, Gladys?” Iris said, suddenly standing up. “It’s such a warm day; I think we could all use something cool to drink. Why don’t you come help me, Lizzie?” She gave me a look that told me I should just do it, no questions asked.

I followed her into the kitchen, and she took some glasses down from a cabinet near the fridge. “Spill it,” she whispered to me. “What’s going on?”

Looking over my shoulder to make sure that Gladys couldn’t hear us, I said, “It doesn’t look good for her, Iris.” I quickly told her what had happened. “Even T.J. admitted it looks bad. I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but if you know a good lawyer, I would call him.”

Iris looked shocked. “You really think it’s that bad?”

“Yeah, I do. Do you think she would feel up to answering a couple of questions?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. You can try.”

She handed me a Dr Pepper from the fridge, and poured some tea in the other two glasses. We carried them back into the living room, and Iris handed a glass to Gladys while I sat back down next to her. “Would you mind answering a question for me, Gladys?”

“About what?” she eyed me warily.

“About the rhubarb on the table in your backyard.”

“What rhubarb? There’s no rhubarb back there. Harold hates the stuff, and I’m not too fond of it, either. If I need some, I just buy it at the store.”

“When was the last time you bought any?”

She took a drink of her tea. “Let me see, I believe it was last year for the ladies’ church group luncheon. Someone requested two rhubarb pies, so I pulled out Momma’s old recipe and made them.”

“None since then?”

“Definitely not,” Gladys replied. “I may be getting old, but I’m not a blithering idiot, Elizabeth Crenshaw.”

I took a drink before I asked my next question. “So, you don’t grow it in your garden?”

“Good heavens, no!”

And I suddenly knew what had been bothering me. There weren’t any rhubarb plants in the Norwell garden. So, then how did rhubarb end up on the back table and in the trash?

Chapter Twelve

Before I could ask her any more questions, the doorbell rang. “Wait a minute, Iris,” I said and turned to Gladys. “I’m guessing that’s T.J. coming to arrest you. Just hush and listen to me. Don’t say anything to them without an attorney present, do I make myself clear?” Gladys didn’t say anything. I moved the albums to one side and sat on the coffee table in front of her. “Gladys, we don’t get along at all, but I know in my heart you didn’t do this. Just trust me, alright? We will get through this. No talking without an attorney. Iris and I will get one for you. Understand?” The doorbell rang again. “Answer me!”

“I understand.”

“Good. You be the strong woman I know you are, and hold your head up high.” I nodded at Iris as I sat back down on the couch.

Iris got up and opened the door. “T.J.! What a pleasant surprise. Please, come in.” She stepped back and out of the way as he came in.

He nodded at me as he walked across the room to Gladys. I expected him to be tough with her, but he knelt in front of her, and took one of her hands in his. “Mrs. Norwell, I’m sorry more than I can say about this, but I’m going to have to ask you to come down to the station with me to answer some questions.”

“Are you going to arrest me?” she asked him as her eyes filled with tears.

“Well, ma’am, I’ll be honest with you, it’s a very strong possibility. The evidence against you is overwhelming, and very hard to ignore. But you’ve got some good people on your side,” he said, glancing over at me, “who tell me there’s no way you’d ever hurt your own husband, much less kill him.”

“I loved him so much,” she said, holding his hand tightly in hers. “We’ve been together since we were eight. I…I’ve never gone a day without seeing him.”

“Why don’t we go down to the station so we can talk?” T.J. replied, helping her to her feet. “I’m sure Ms. Crenshaw has advised you not to talk until you have a lawyer.” Gladys nodded. “That’s very good advice, ma’am. She’s absolutely right. You can sit in Sheriff Greene’s office until your lawyer shows up.”

“Could she at least change into something more presentable?” Iris asked.

“Of course, that’s fine. No rush.”

Iris helped Gladys down the hall as T.J. turned to me. “Have you already contacted someone for her?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t had the chance, and to be honest, I don’t know a criminal attorney.”

“You better find someone for her quick. I don’t know how long Owen is going to let her sit in his office before he starts to get antsy.”

There was only one person I knew who had contacts everywhere: Jake. “Tell Gladys I will get her an attorney just as fast as I can.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Thank you for treating her so kindly.”

“Owen wanted me to clap her irons and haul her down to the station,” T.J. said. “It took us ten minutes to convince him otherwise.”

I nodded and walked over to the door, but turned around just as my hand touched the knob. “By the way, you should know there are no rhubarb plants in the Norwells’ garden. Harold hated the stuff. Gladys said that the last time she had rhubarb in the house was last year.”

“So someone planted the stuff in the trash can and on the table?” T.J. sounded incredulous.

“That’s your job to figure out, Deputy. Mine right now is to get my archenemy an attorney so I can keep her out of jail.” I opened the door and walked out, closing it behind me.

As I walked toward the car, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Jake. “Hey doll, what’s up?” he said when he answered.

“Don’t call me doll. Where are you?” I replied.

“I’m at the office, why?”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. In the meantime, pull out your Rolodex and find a criminal attorney.”

“Are you being arrested?”

“No, I’m not. Just do it. Make sure it’s someone who can handle a murder case.” As I hung up, I noticed a gold Cadillac pull up and park behind T.J.’s patrol car. Andrea Martin got out, opened the passenger door and took out a covered dish. As she walked up the sidewalk, T.J. and Gladys came out the door, passing by Andrea as they headed for his car. She stared after them with her mouth hanging open.

Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting in the office I shared with Jake. “I really appreciate this, Stephen. And you’ll be here in an hour, correct? That’s great. Give my best to Marilyn.” He listened for a minute and laughed. “That sounds great. I’ll see if I can scrounge up a date. See you soon.” He hung up. “Okay, I have the best criminal attorney in Dallas County coming down in an hour. Is that fast enough for you?”

“That will be just fine, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now you want to tell me why I just agreed to sit through one of the most boring dinners known to man?”

“Gladys Norwell has been taken to the sheriff’s office for questioning.”

“Son of a…are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. I was right there when T.J. showed up at Iris Griswell’s house.”

Jake grabbed a yellow legal pad and a pencil, and started making notes. “Did he put her in handcuffs right in front of you? What did she say? Did she resist arrest? What exactly are they arresting her for? What about the evidence against her? Do they have a strong case?”

I just stared at him, at a total loss for words for a minute. “You are unbelievable, you know that? I’m just…I don’t know what to say.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Totally bad. You haven’t changed one bit, Jacob Mathias. All you can think of right now is getting the scoop, all the gory details. What about the woman whose life has been turned upside down?”

“You mean the woman you hate with a passion?” Jake sneered.

“You’re right. Most of the time, I can’t stand her. But she needs people on her side at the moment, and I was raised to treat others the way I want to be treated. I may not be able to kill her with kindness, if you’ll pardon the pun, but I can certainly do my best to make sure she isn’t railroaded for something that I strongly believe she didn’t do.” I stood up. “And if you can’t handle that, then maybe you need to go back East where you belong, where that kind of cutthroat attitude gets you places. It’s not going to fly down here, and that is not what this newspaper is going to stand for. And if Dale were here, he would say the same thing.”

“Oh, I am here, and I do agree,” Dale said from the doorway of the office.

“What are you doing here?” I said, surprised to see him.

“You know I never miss the county fair,” he said. “I got into town last night, and heard about Harold. What exactly happened?”

I started to answer him, but Jake jumped up, came around the desk and stood by us. “I’ll tell you what happened. We have the hottest story of the year literally dropped into our laps, and the
woman
you left in charge has gone soft. She wouldn’t let me talk to Gladys last night, and now she won’t let me do a story about the woman being taking in for questioning! She even got me to call a criminal attorney for the murderess…”

“Alleged,” Dale and I said.

“Fine,
alleged
murderess. She,” he growled, pointing at me, “is killing this newspaper.”

Dale looked at me. “Did you really get him to call an attorney for Gladys?”

I nodded. “I knew he had connections. I certainly don’t know any criminal attorneys.”

“Well, she’s got you on that one,” Dale said to Jake, who just glared at both of us. “And Jake also has a point.”

“Ha!” Jake said triumphantly.

“We do need to run the story, Lizzie. It’s big news, although things like this seem to be happening more now that you’ve come home. It’s our job to let the people of this town know what’s going on around them.”

“Thank you for proving my point, Dale,” Jake said.

“However, Lizzie is also right,” he continued. “Gladys may be a royal pain in the behind, but she is still a well-respected member of this community. Nothing has been proven yet, and they could be just doing routine questioning. If that’s the case, then printing a story saying she’s been hauled down to the sheriff’s office is going to make her and us look bad if nothing comes of it. Get the basic facts down, mention the lawyer, but say that he is there merely to look out for the interests of Gladys, and to make sure that the police are doing their jobs.”

“Not much of a story,” Jake mumbled.

“No, but you’re getting to tell it,” Dale snapped. “Now, go sit at Bruce’s desk, write it up, get it to the printer and put it on the website.”

I could tell Jake was mad by the way he stomped out of the room. Dale steered me toward the chairs in front of his desk, and we sat down. “Now, why don’t you tell me everything?”

For the next few minutes, I did all the talking. Dale reached over and grabbed the legal pad Jake had earlier, and took a few notes. “And Gladys was quite sure about the rhubarb?”

“Oh yes, she said Harold hated the stuff. I’ve never tried it myself, and after this, I don’t think I’m going to any time soon.”

“Dorothy made a rhubarb pie once. I’m not sure if it was her cooking or just the taste of the rhubarb itself, but it was awful.” It was the first time since his wife’s death almost a year ago that I had heard him mention her. “I say we sit on this for now. It sounds like this could be an important piece of the case, and it gives T.J. an advantage if the killer doesn’t know about it just yet.”

“So you think she’s innocent, too?”

He nodded. “I’ve known Gladys my whole life. I remember when we were kids, she would chase Harold all over the playground, trying to get him to play with her. Boys that age…well, we still think girls are icky. But he came around eventually.” He shook his head and laughed. “If there were two people who were more in love than Gladys and Harold, I’d love to meet them.”

“What about Jake?”

“What about him?”

“Are you going to talk to him?”

“About what?”

“Seriously, Dale?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll talk to him. But he’s not always wrong, Lizzie, and I think you know that.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, yes, I know. But he doesn’t know the people here; he’s an outsider. He wrote a piece last month about a minor fender bender in front of the café, and made it sound like a major collision with injuries. And then there was the article on a major supermarket wanting to build here in town. ‘Big businesses are going to come in, and squeeze out all the small business owners’, when the owner of the supermarket wanted to work with the small business owners to make sure their businesses didn’t suffer because of their plans. Thanks to that article, the owner backed out, and now they’re going to build it in Red Oak.”

“I see what you mean. But, in his defense, he has helped us build up the advertising.”

“He’s great at kissing up to people. He knows how to get them to open their wallets, but he doesn’t know how to interact or relate to them. I’ve heard people in town call him a carpetbagger, and I’m not sure that they’re wrong.”

Dale got up and paced the floor for a minute. “You two have done a marvelous job with the paper, Lizzie. Circulation is up, advertising is up, and we’re starting to show a profit. I have a feeling you’re going to ask me to ask Jake to leave now that things are better.”

“I was thinking about it.”

“Let me tell you why I think that would be a mistake. You two complement each other perfectly, in a strictly business sense, I mean. He’s good at getting the money, and you’re good at writing the stories. Both go hand in hand. Without one, the other doesn’t mean a thing. Do you see what I’m saying?”

I sat back in the chair, pouting. “Yes, you’re saying it means I’m stuck with him.”

“Yes and no.”

“What do you mean?”

Dale walked over and sat down behind the desk. “I’ve been thinking about selling the paper. It’s not really what I want to do anymore.”

“You can’t be serious,” I said, shocked.

“Oh, I am, very serious. And I’m thinking of selling it to Jake.”