A Tough Nut to Kill (Nut House Mystery Series) (22 page)

“Paid you? That was my father’s property. He’d already paid a thousand, didn’t he? Where’s the file now? I’m his daughter. I have a right—”

“Well, yes, I guess you have . . . except . . . well, a guy came in and paid the bill, the way I said. I remember my partners and me talked it over and felt—since your father was dead—file’s no good to him. I never took another look at the contents. We took the guy’s check. He’s got full rights to whatever’s in that report he bought. Sorry, Miss . . . er . . . that’s business.”

“Nobody has a right to work that my daddy ordered, and paid good money for. If I have to, Mr. Fritch, I’ll go to our attorney and see about making you hand over—”

“Nothin’ to hand over. All gone, Miss Blanchard.”

“I don’t believe that. I’ll bet anything you keep copies of your work. What kind of company do you run that you don’t keep copies in case the original gets lost or stolen? Can you tell me the man’s name? This man who took what belonged to my daddy? We’ve had a murder here. He could be the killer for all we know. Your files might be subpoenaed, Mr. Fritch. If I were you . . .”

“Hmm . . . calm down. Got it right here. Copy of a check attached to the invoice . . . let’s see. Says Amos Blanchard. Think that’s it. Handwriting’s a little crooked. I remember now, he said he was Jake’s brother. Makes him yer uncle, I’d say. Guess you’ll have to take it up with him.”

I held my breath. “And you really didn’t keep a copy of your report?”

“Funny thing, Miss Blanchard. We always keep copies—just in case. But we got broken into here only a few days after this Amos Blanchard came in and took your daddy’s file away with him. Stuff thrown all over the office. Yup, our records of the Blanchard case were just gone, all of it, and . . . I don’t remember if anything else was taken. All I remember was we were glad the damage wasn’t any worse. Papers scattered all over the place.”

“Mr. Fritch.” I stopped him. “Amos Blanchard is the man who was murdered.”

I heard him suck in air.

“If there’s anything you remember about that investigation. Who you looked into. What my daddy wanted to know. Anything at all . . .”

“I would if I could, Miss Blanchard. I’d like to help but . . . five years. That’s a lot of time. Lots of investigations since then. Just somebody I had to take a look at. Something about a person pretending to be somebody they weren’t. Like it was . . . an attorney or something. Can’t say for sure. It was all in the file I gave your uncle. Take a look at it.”

I didn’t answer. All I could think about was “an attorney.”

I hung up and called Hunter.

Chapter Thirty-three

“I was just putting together a batch of piecrust, Lindy,”
Meemaw said when I called her at the Nut House. “Sorry about talking to you the way I did, but Ethelred Tomroy was standing right next to me. Big ears quivering like a parade elephant. She’s been getting a few orders for pecan pies. Can you imagine that? Kept rubbing it in, even saying Willy Shuck said he liked her pie better than mine. That old miser. I’d get after him except for how he came on down here and helped with the cleanup. Just you wait ’til he brings her a half-eaten pie and wants his money back. Just you wait and see how happy she is then. That man likes anything he can get cheap and Ethelred’s undercutting me by two dollars. Probably using all lard in the crust, I’ll bet you. Anyway, I decided I don’t care what people say about me, I know what I can do and what I can’t do and—”

“Miss Amelia,” I had to cut her off or listen to grievances for the next twenty minutes. “Could Treenie take over? You’ve got to get home here. Mama, too. Maybe even Bethany. She come back?”

“Girl’s scrubbing the last of the floor. Seems she’s mad as a person can get. Somebody called that Chet Easton, her Dallas broadcaster, about his wedding. Offered to do it cheaper and better. He wouldn’t say, but Bethany thinks he’s trying to hold her up for a reduced rate, just because of the murder at the ranch. And she’s sure it was Chastity who called him.”

“Well, whatever . . . tell her to come home or let her stay and finish. I need to talk to you and Mama most.”

“I’ll see, Lindy. Emma went over to talk to Ben . . .”

“Oh no, call her, Meemaw. Get her back here. Just as soon as you can. And bring the letter the girls gave you.”

That was how I left it because I didn’t know what I was most afraid of or what to start warning people about.

And after all, what did I really know? Only that the detective had been investigating an attorney.

In all of this, I knew one thing for sure. That package “Virginia” wrote about in her letter to Amos, it had to be the file Amos bought from Donny Fritch. I was suspicious of the man and willing to bet it cost Uncle Amos a lot more than the five hundred dollars he was supposed to have paid, but pretty sure Virginia’s package couldn’t be anything else.

If Uncle Amos brought the file back to town with him, somebody would have found it in his room. Hunter would have told me if he or the sheriff had it. If the killer knew who had it . . .

I got the package and will keep it until you tell me what to do with it. Just the way you said, I won’t give it to anybody but you, unless the police or some official comes asking.

I prayed fast that it wasn’t already destroyed.

We had to find the woman. I put my hands to my head and held on tight. Where to start? I wasn’t good at this. I needed Miss Amelia.

• • •

 

The first thing I did, when Mama and Miss Amelia got
home, was read the letter Mama held out to me:

Emma, I’m trying my best to clean up my life. I been in AA here in Houston at a rehab center. I’m back on my feet. Got some good friends but one of the things I have to do before my AA program’s really in place is make amends for the things I did wrong and the people I hurt. One of my biggest sorrows is what I done to you my own brother’s wife. And one of the worst things was—you maybe won’t believe this is one of the worst due to all the things I done to you but what I’m almost sorriest for is not admitting I had my suspicions about Jake’s death. I did but I was just so mad at all of you I couldn’t admit even to myself what I was thinking. That’s what I came back to Riverville for. Not to hurt any of you ever again but just to follow something that’s been nagging at me since Jake died. I think I know who killed Jake, Emma. And I mean killed. That mower tipping over on him was no accident. I’m almost ready to go to Sheriff Higsby with what I’m finding out. You’ll be surprised to hear it was something Jake did that’s gonna put this person in jail for a long, long time. Please don’t talk about this with any of the kids or Miss Amelia or I could be the next target of this killer. I know you all hate me but I won’t let any of you down again. When the time comes, the best thing about all of this is that Justin will understand I didn’t kill Jake. That’s what I’m hoping for. The day all of us can be family. That’s the day I get your trust back and feel like a real Blanchard again. Amos

 

I had to sit down. I wanted to run or cry or scream or do anything but stay in that house another minute. I wanted out of Riverville. Maybe go somewhere on the Amazon where I could find all kinds of new specimens and come back twenty-five years in the future with exotic new species that would save the world . . .

Not Daddy. Not him, too. And
“something Jake did.”

That meant all of this had started back then, when Daddy became suspicious of somebody . . .
like an attorney . . .

“He was sorry, Lindy,” Mama said. “You see that? Amos was sorry for causing us trouble. Jake would have been so happy. That’s what he always wanted, just for Amos to get well again, and be the brother he used to be.”

“Yes, Mama. Uncle Amos was sorry. Then he was dead because he found out something. It had to be who killed Daddy. If this is even the truth.” I shook the letter at her.

“I believe it, Lindy. With everything that’s happening now.” Tears ran down Mama’s face. “I can’t stand to think about . . . in his last minutes, my husband faced a killer. Poor Jake. Then Amos.”

Miss Amelia put her arm around Mama’s shoulders. I envied the two of them. There was still so much they didn’t know.

Miss Amelia looked hard at me. “But what’d you find out in Houston?”

I told them about the rehab clinic and how well liked Amos had been. I told them about Virginia, that the doctor would let her know we’re looking for her. I told them about the detective. Mama’s face went from one emotion to another. Relief, I’d say, on the one hand, about what the detective said. I don’t know what awful thing she expected. Then shock, even horror, on the other, when I told them what the man said about his investigation—something about an attorney.

“No,” Mama moaned. “I won’t believe this has anything to do with Ben. He came right out and told me about the trouble with Amos. He didn’t have anything against Jake.”

“Depends what’s in that report, Mama. Could be something Ben didn’t want anybody to know, and then Uncle Amos found out . . . All that money. Think about it.”

“Amos blackmailing Ben?”

I nodded. “No big land deal after all.”

“Jake trusted Ben. They were friends. And Amos wouldn’t have done that. Not knowing somebody hurt his brother.”

Miss Amelia had a few words to add. “Remember, Lindy. There was no money in Amos’s bank account.”

“All we know about, Meemaw, is the bank here. Lots of other banks in big cities like Houston.”

I didn’t like pushing Ben’s guilt on them and something even more important dawned on me. “I’m thinking . . .”

“Me, too,” Miss Amelia said right then. “We need whatever this ‘Virginia’ person has. That’s the only answer.”

Miss Amelia led Mama over to sit down on one of the living room sofas. “Hunter’s got to get some kind of notice out to other police departments about her.”

I shook my head. “We can’t do that, Meemaw. She’s not a criminal. And think about it, if anybody’s in danger now, it’s her. She’s the only one who’s got the information connecting whoever this man is to Daddy and to Amos. The killer will want whatever she’s got as bad as we do.”

“Well, it’s doesn’t have anything to do with Ben,” Mama said then shook her head. “I don’t care what anybody says. I know people. And I trust Ben.”

We were in agreement, of a sort. Better to do something than nothing. And better not to go jumping to conclusions, the way the sheriff concluded it was Justin who murdered Amos.

I got on the phone to Hunter, telling him about Amos’s letter to Mama and how afraid we were for this Virginia who had that “package” Amos talked about. “Could you call that doctor back? Tell him how Virginia’s in deep trouble. Could be a killer after her.”

And then I told him we were coming in to town see the sheriff about my daddy’s death. Hunter, to his credit, didn’t try to stop me or say much of anything. Maybe this new information shocked him as much as it shocked the rest of us.

Mama was up and on her phone with the sheriff right then, her voice stronger than I’d heard in a long time.

“Right now, Sheriff,” she was saying. “No sir. You stay where you are. No damned hog attack is more important than what I’ve got to say to you.”

Chapter Thirty-four

“All we’ve got is Amos’s word, Emma.” Sheriff Higsby shifted
hard in his squeaking chair and frowned at us across his littered desk. Amos’s letter to Emma was in his hand. “Nothing against the Blanchards, you know that, but the Amos Blanchard I knew wasn’t a man of his word. And not above stirring up trouble. Looks like even in death.”

“You’ve got my son in jail. I take that as something against us, Sheriff.” Mama sat with her back like a tree trunk and her hands tight together in her lap. Miss Amelia was beside her. Just as upright and just as focused. I sat between the two of them, ready to jump in if the sheriff gave us trouble for long. I wasn’t sure what I was going to jump in with, but I knew we were in the battle of our lives.

“Did you read what Amos said there?” Mama leaned forward and pointed in the general direction of the letter. “That’s what he came back here to do. Prove that Jake was murdered. You see that? The man had cleaned up his life.”

The sheriff nodded and lowered his eyebrows so his eyes all but disappeared.

“He was going to bring proof to you, Sheriff. What more do you need?” Miss Amelia put in.

“What I need, Miss Amelia, is that proof.”

“At least you owe us another look at Jake’s death.” Mama leaned forward.

Sheriff Higsby looked from one to the other of us. “I got Hunter going full-time on Amos’s death now. And looking for who did that to Martin, out at your place,” he said. “Tell you the truth, I got nobody to put on a revisit to Jake’s death. Not without more proof than this here letter.”

The sheriff shook the letter in his broad hand. “County board already coming down on me for overtime pay.”

Mama fell back in her chair. “For the good Lord’s sakes, Sheriff, I’ll pay. Whatever it takes . . .”

“Doesn’t work that way, Emma.”

Miss Amelia spoke up just as I was going to weigh in. “Doesn’t take your officers to look into this. Call the new coroner. Have him take another look at Jake’s autopsy report and the x-rays.”

Mama shivered. The thought of what we were asking wasn’t pleasant to me either. A man should, after all, rest in peace.

“That’s all we’re asking for,” Miss Amelia went on. “If he finds something . . . well, we’ll know we’re after one man who did all of this: Jake, Amos, Martin. But if he doesn’t find anything, then I guess Amos was wrong and we’ll never know what proof he had. Or if he was even telling the truth.”

“Could I just say one thing here?” The sheriff put up a hand. “The way I see what’s happened is like this. Amos caught the guy out at your greenhouse, Miss Lindy. Surprised him and was killed by accident. Whoever did it already had those trees of yours in his car and he took off with them. Panicked. When he tried to get rid of them, bring ’em back to the ranch, he ran into Martin. Didn’t kill him. Just panicked again.” He stopped, cleared his throat. “I’m thinking it’s somebody from out of town. All a stupid accident caused by some greedy . . . eh . . . out-of-town rancher.

“As for Amos’s accusations.” He tapped the letter. “We all knew Amos well enough. When he was drinking, the man was crazy. Looks like he got it in his head to get back in your good graces, Emma. That’s all. Looking for a way to weasel his way back into the family, is all. For what reason, we’ll never know for sure.”

I jumped in. “My uncle’s time away from here was spent at a rehab facility. Did you know that? And in AA. He was clean and sober when he came back here, Sheriff. Even Harry said he made Amos pledge he wasn’t drinking anymore before he took him on at Rancho Conway.”

“Yeah, well, that and a nickel . . . as they say.”

“There’s more,” I said. “I gave Hunter that letter from a woman named Virginia. She sent it to Amos while he was staying here in town.”

He nodded. “Hunter showed me the letter.”

“She’s got a package he gave her.”

He nodded again. “Could be anything from dirty socks to legal documents against you folks.”

“He told her only to give it to the police, not to anyone else. You don’t give dirty socks to the police in case of your death.”

He was thinking. And finally listening.

“We’re trying to find this Virginia,” I went on. “Hunter and I went to the clinic in Houston where Uncle Amos stayed. The doctor there wouldn’t help a whole lot, but he said he’d try to get ahold of Virginia and tell her to contact us.”

“Not much to go on, is what I understand. Maybe a package.”

Miss Amelia stepped in. “There was a private investigator, Sheriff. Jake hired him. Lindy here talked to the man. He did the work for Jake and closed it out when Jake died. Amos found out and went there. He paid the man off, what Jake still owed. He took that report with him. That’s what he had, Sheriff. We think this Virginia’s got it. And we think it’s what’s behind Jake’s death and Amos’s, and even the attack on Martin.”

“Hunter talk to that doctor? Tell him how important it is we find the woman?”

I nodded. “The man wasn’t really cooperative, but then Hunter didn’t have any legal standing there in Houston.”

Sheriff Higsby nodded. “Hmmm . . . what you’re putting together sure sounds like something,” he admitted. “I’m calling that doctor myself. You got any idea who it is? The one behind all this?”

Mama turned around and looked at me. Miss Amelia avoided looking at either of us. I sat back, pushing down in my chair.

Nobody mentioned Ben’s name.

Sheriff Higsby stood and leaned across his desk. “I’ll call the coroner. Get this thing moving. If he finds there’s any reason to suspect Jake was murdered and not dead from that mower’s blades, we’re going full tilt after who did it. You’ve got my promise on that, ladies.”

He stood up and pulled at his belt as he sniffed and thought awhile.

“You know what? I’m letting Justin outta here. Dropping the charges. I’ve been coming to it anyway. That damned belt buckle’s not enough reason to hold him. Got nothing else except he hated Amos. And comes to that, how many others could say the same thing?”

I wasn’t the only one swallowing hard and taking deep breaths so I didn’t cry all over the sheriff’s crummy carpet.

“When?” Mama asked.

“Soon as I can. Let me get the paperwork together. You want, you come back in ’bout an hour and I think he’ll be ready to go home with you.”

Miss Amelia stood and pulled Mama to her feet. “That will be fine, Sheriff,” she said in her best lady-of-the-manner voice. “And you’ll contact the coroner right away?”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Get right on that. See what he comes up with.”

We walked out, almost tiptoeing, as if anything we said now could upset some delicate balance and keep Justin in jail.

“Ladies,” the sheriff called from behind us. “If you’re right, we got us a killer out there. Y’all’ve got to be careful. Don’t want anybody else getting hurt.”

“You know, Sheriff.” Miss Amelia turned to look full at him. “If the doctors bring Martin out of that coma, that will end it. He’s got to know who tried to kill him. You think about that?”

He nodded.

“You got a man over there? Watching him, is what I’m asking.”

“Juanita and Jessie with him all the time. Got nobody else. Unless we hear he’s waking up . . .”

She nodded. “Just wanted to make sure you were thinking about it.”

“Thinking about everything, Miss Amelia. Me and Hunter, we been over it. I’ll be watching.”

Mama turned in the hall outside his office. “When will we know, Sheriff? About Jake?”

He shrugged. “I’ll let the coroner know it’s a rush. Shouldn’t be long. Not like he’s got to do the autopsy, just go over the file. I’d say a few days.”

He followed us out of the room. “The only thing I still want to tell you is if you’ve got any idea who did this and aren’t telling me what you know, well . . . and I mean this sincerely . . . that’s not a game you want to be playing.”

I changed the subject. “About my trees. Could be too late already. But I’d like them back; get them in the ground . . .”

“’Course, Lindy. Out behind the building. Hunter’s been watering them. Look pretty good, you ask me. Considering what they been through.”

I couldn’t help my big grin. “Good for Hunter.”

He nodded, looking pleased with himself. “We all chipped in. Everybody knows what you’re trying to do for the ranchers, Lindy. I’d have an uprising on my hands, I let anything happen to your trees.”

I could’ve hugged the man except he looked too official and lawman-like for hugging.

“You can take ’em now, you got room in your truck.”

I did have room and I did take my trees. Miss Amelia and Mama helped load them, all straight and tall and tied to wooden stakes Hunter had found for them. It was like bringing home family.

Well, almost like that.

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