Picture Perfect Murder (Ryli Sinclair 1) (6 page)

*
* *
 

As we were all saying goodbye, my stomach started to knot at
the thought of what would happen when Garrett dropped me off. Would he want to
come in? Should I invite him in? What was I supposed to do?

The ride back to my house was silent and semi-comfortable. I
kept stealing sideways glances at Garrett, trying to read his face, but he was
like granite. I bet he was awesome at poker.

As he pulled into my driveway, I unbuckled my seatbelt. He
put the car into park, and I countered back by reaching for the door handle.
“Let me walk you to the door.”

A command, not a request.

We both got out and walked up the porch steps and stopped at
my front door. “Keys,” he demanded as he held out his hand. I reached into my
jeans and pulled out my keys. In one fluid motion Garrett had the key inside
the lock and the door open.

I cleared my throat. “Well, I guess—”

I never got a chance to finish. Garrett leaned down and
kissed me. Before the panic of what to do next settled over me, Garrett broke
off the kiss. “So, I think I’m going to say good night here. I’ve a long day
tomorrow. Need to start working on those leads.”

Never one to curb my tongue I asked, “What leads exactly?”

Garrett just chuckled. “Nope. Not gonna happen, Sin”

Pouting, I narrowed my eyes at him. “I know these people. What
makes you think you can get somewhere with them that I can’t?”

His eyes went hard. “Because it’s my job, and I know how to
do my job. Unlike you, I’ve had training in how to read people, look for tells
when they’re lying, follow clues, and solve crimes.”

I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t help it. Stupid to grab the
bull by the horns, but sometimes I can’t help myself. “I still have to do some
writing and interviewing for the paper, especially now that people seem to know
a little about what happened to the body.” Knowing I was playing with fire, I
couldn’t help adding, “I’ll tell ya what…if I come across anything important in
my
journalistic
investigation, I’ll let you know.”

With that I walked into my house, closed and locked the
door. I swear I heard growling on the other side of the door but I chose to
ignore it, because suddenly I had an epiphany as to who could help me with my
investigation. It wasn’t something I wanted to do, but if anyone could help me
profile and hunt for clues, it was my great-aunt Shirley.

Chapter 4
 

Saturdays are one of our busiest days at the paper. I knew
I’d let Hank down with my crappy article the other day, so in order to redeem
myself, I set out early Saturday for a good story. Basically, I was ready to
snoop.

Hank was covering the front-page stuff, like Dr. Garver’s
life, facts about what happened, that kind of boring stuff. I knew what my job
was, and that was to get the good stuff—the stuff that sells papers. So I was
ready to snoop and gossip with the best of ‘em, under the guise of journalistic
reporting, of course.

My first stop was Legends
.
I was ready to give it
another try now that I had something to prove to Garrett. Once again the spaces
downtown were filled, so I drove around behind the square down the back alley.
Usually cars didn’t park here, unless you were like Iris and lived above the
store. I slowed my Civic down to less than five miles per hour—the ruts were
horrific, and I didn’t want to damage underneath my car—before finding a spot
in the back alley. I saw Iris’s car parked next to a big green dumpster. The
only other spot to park was on the other side of the dumpster, sandwiched
between the brick building and the dumpster. It was perfect. My car would be
hidden out of sight.

As I made my way around the back of the deserted brick
building, I wasn’t watching where I was going and stumbled.

“Be careful there, dear, you don’t want to get yourself
hurt.”

I glanced up quickly. Sister Williams was carrying a Subway
bag and walking toward me. Her kind smile immediately put me at ease and my
heart stopped pounding.

“Are you okay, Ryli?” Sister Williams held out her arm as if
to steady me.

Laughing at my behavior, I said, “Yeah. I was just thinking
about the story I needed to get and wasn’t paying attention.” I glanced down at
her bag and stated the obvious. “You and the preacher having breakfast out this
morning?”

“Your pastor loves his Subway breakfast. It’s a Saturday
tradition of ours.” She wiggled the plastic bag as she stepped around me.

Inspiration hit me. “Sister Williams, I was wondering if you
would like to talk about Dr. Garver’s death. I know y’all were friends, and
that she was even on the church board.”

The smile left Sister Williams’s face. I felt awkward as I
waited for her reply. “My dear, this is a very difficult time for us all, I’m
not sure I can help you out.” Her tone was polite, yet final.

I tried again, “I know, but sometimes talking about it
helps.” Okay, even to me it sounded lame, but it was worth a shot.

Once again she was quiet as she looked me over. “I cannot tell
you how to do your job, Ryli, and I’m sure you don’t mean to be disrespectful,
but please remember that people grieve in different ways. I do not wish to talk
about her death at this time. I’d like to grieve privately, if you don’t mind.”

Okay, now I was officially embarrassed.

“It’s not like that,” I assured her. “I’m really trying to
help out. Maybe even get some leads for Chief Kimble by asking questions.”

Now
where did that come from?

A placating smile formed on Sister Williams's face. “I’m
sure the Chief can do his job just fine. You be careful now, okay.” She patted
me on the arm and continued walking to her car. I stood there and watched as
she drove off.

Did she mean be careful and watch where I was walking so I
didn’t stumble again, or be careful whom I asked questions to because she's
afraid I'd end up like Dr. Garver?

A sobering thought.

 
*
* *
 

My enthusiasm had severely dampened by the time I reached
the front door of Legends
and stepped inside. My senses were immediately
assaulted with the smell of perm solution and hairspray. A chair was open along
the wall of ladies waiting their turn, so I decided to take a seat and listen
in.

“I know Coach Perkins was livid about what she did with his
budget,” Pamela Nettles said.

Dan Perkins has been the athletic director at the school for
about five years now. He was a family man, two kids, nice wife. Somehow I
couldn’t see him committing such a heinous crime, but I decided to jot down his
name anyway and stop by and talk with him. See if I couldn’t pick up on
something.

“What about Doc Powell? I heard they were caught fighting
after a board meeting a while back and it got ugly!” Tina Anderson countered
back, her scissors going to town on Pamela’s hair.

Again, I couldn’t imagine Doc doing something so
atrocious—of course, I couldn’t imagine
anyone
I knew doing something so
terrible—but it might be worth a more intimate talk at his place and not on the
streets like yesterday.

“Ryli, I didn’t see you slip in. Did you need something in
particular today?” Iris asked as she continued to tease Mrs. Evans’s hair into
a football-like bouffant.

“Just working on my editorial for the week.” I tried to be
nonchalant, but I knew if there was anything new and juicy, Iris would know
about it by now. “Have you heard anything more about the Garver murder?”

Iris paused mid tease and looked me over from top to bottom,
as though assessing my worth.

“I’ll tell ya what, the shop’s closed Monday, but I need to
run a few errands during the day. Why don’t you drop by my place Monday night? I
might be able to help you out.”

I couldn’t believe my luck! Oh, I was so going to make
Garrett eat his words!

Playing it cool I said, “Sure, Iris, that’d be great. I’ll
see you around seven o'clock Monday night.” I said.

“Sounds good, sugar. Just come upstairs.”

 
*
* *
 

I ran out to
Paige’s place to see if she wanted to go with me to visit Dan Perkins. I wasn’t
really sure what I was going to
say to him or even what
questions to ask, but I figured if he was hiding something, Paige and I would
be able to see something.

Paige was finishing up a ledger for her dad, so I decided to
put some tea on the stove. I wasn’t sure yet how I was going to break it to her
that we may need to bring Aunt Shirley into the mix. Paige and my great aunt
didn’t exactly see eye to eye. Mainly because a while back Aunt Shirley told
Paige the reason Matt still hadn’t proposed was because a guy doesn’t buy the
cow when the milk is free. This did not go over well with Paige.

Paige strolled into the kitchen as I finished pouring our
tea. “When Garrett dropped me off last night, he basically said we needed to
butt out and stop asking questions because we wouldn’t know a lead or a clue if
it bit us on the ass.” Okay, I was paraphrasing a little, but I needed her to
agree to bring in Aunt Shirley.

“That’s a little harsh, even for Garrett,” Paige said as she
blew on the tea.

“But it got me to thinking. Maybe he’s right, maybe we need
to bring in someone who
would
recognize a clue or a lead.” I glanced at
her to gauge her reaction when she finally figured out what I was saying.

“Oh,
hell
no!” she exclaimed. “No way am I working
with that crazy old woman!”

“Please, Paige, it’s the only thing I can think of. I
thought we might go visit her after we talk to Coach Perkins. Who knows, maybe
he’ll give us something and we won’t need her.” I left her with that little
glimmer of false hope.

 
*
* *
 

I knew where Coach Perkins lived because it used to be my
old piano teacher’s house when I was a kid. In fact, it was still referred to
as her house by many, even though the Perkins family had lived there for about
three years now. Typical behavior in a small town.

I pulled into the driveway in front of the two-car garage.
One garage door was open, so I figured someone must be home. I have to be
honest, I wasn’t even sure what I was going to say yet. I knew I couldn’t come
right out and ask him if he murdered Dr. Garver, but there had to be something
or someone he could steer me toward. Turning off the car, Paige and I made a
beeline for the garage.

A sandy-haired boy of about eleven ran around the corner of
the house, skidding to a halt in front of the open garage. He didn’t even look
in our direction.

“Dad, can I go to Blake’s to play?”

“Your chores are done?” a voice called from inside the
garage.

“Yep,” the boy said, hopping up and down in excitement. “Mom
said it was fine but I had to ask you.”

“Take your bike.”

Running over to a rack of bikes, the boy yanked one free and
hopped on. Hunching over the handlebars, he barely glanced at us as he flew by.
I lifted my hand to wave, but he was already gone.

“Can I help you?”

I turned back toward the garage. Coach Perkins was wiping
his hands on a towel as he walked toward us. I knew he recognized me because I
often go to games and athletic banquets to take pictures for the paper. He’d
always been a nice enough guy, but suddenly I was glad I wasn’t alone. I had to
start toughening up if I was going to investigate this murder.

“I was hoping you can answer some questions for me about Dr.
Garver’s death.”

“Look, I’ll make it simple for you. I didn’t kill her, and I
don’t know who did. I have a huge list of people who hated her, but I’m sure
you also have one yourself.”

Damn,
he had me there
.

“I guess I was hoping you might know something that could
help us out. I didn’t figure you killed her,” I said, hoping to get him to open
up, “but anything you know would be helpful.”

Perkins chuckled. “Look lady, Chief Kimble already called me
this morning. He said he’d be over sometime this afternoon to talk with me. He
also told me if a certain nosey reporter came snooping around, I was to tell
her nothing, or I would be brought up on obstruction charges. And then he'd
throw you in jail for the same thing.”

I heard Paige gasp.

“Well, then I guess there’s no reason to tell him I was ever
here, right?”

Coach Perkins grinned. “Right, you were never here.”

Paige and I ran to my car, I slid over the hood
Dukes of
Hazzard
style, jumped in, and sped off down the street before Garrett
caught us and hauled us both off to jail.

 
*
* *
 

There’re no words to describe my great-aunt Shirley...except
nutty, mean, smart, crazy, and old.

Well, what do you know? I actually could describe her. She
currently resides at the Oak Grove Manor, a sort of assisted living facility
for the elderly. She was my mom’s aunt. My great-aunt Shirley never had a
thought she didn’t express, which put most people on edge. Deep down, I really
liked her and her eccentric ways. I think she’s around seventy-five, but I’m
not sure, and I’ve never been brave enough to ask.

Aunt Shirley was a true old maid. She never married or had
children. Instead, she bucked the system in a time period when women just
didn’t do that. To her parents’ horror, she ran off to Los Angeles, California
at the age of twenty-three and became a private investigator. Yep, you heard
right. My great-aunt Shirley was a real-life
Charlie’s Angels
type of
badass woman, before
Charlie’s Angels
was even a thing.

“I still can’t believe we’re doing this. She’s a complete
whack job! What on earth could she tell us that we don’t already know?”

“I don’t know, but I’m telling you, the woman is amazing
when it comes to knowing and digging up things,” I said.

“Yeah, because she sold her soul to the devil years ago,”
Paige whined.

She’s probably right, but I didn’t care…I needed answers. As
I was speeding away from Coach Perkins’s house, I made a rational plea to Paige
that we couldn’t go any further without Aunt Shirley’s help.

Turning onto Cherry Street, I made my way slowly to Oak
Grove Manor, practicing what I’d say to get Aunt Shirley hooked into helping
us. I didn’t figure it’d be too tough, it’s not like she had a lot to do.

I drove into the circle drive of Oak Grove Manor and parked
in the designated area for visitors. Getting out, we made our way to the front
entrance.

Oak Grove Manor was an old, three-story brick building with
patches of ivy clinging to the exterior. The outside looked pretty neglected
and run down, a metaphor I’m sure for the old people housed inside the
building. A few of the apartments had tiny balconies that looked like one
person could squeeze onto them.

It looked lonely and depressing. I’d hate to live here.

“God, I’d hate to live here,” Paige said.

“Ditto.”

We walked into the foyer and bypassed the information desk. I
knew what floor and room number my great aunt was in. We went through the first
set of doors to the right of the foyer. The sign above the door read, “Welcome
to Tropical Paradise Wing.” The dimly lit corridor was decorated with fake
plants and palm trees. On the walls were faded pictures of tropical islands and
beaches.

Paige and I nodded and waved at the people who were hanging
out in the spacious hallway and open doors of their apartments. We reached the
elevators and hit the up button to the third floor.

It didn’t take us long to reach room 366. As I was knocking
on the door, I wondered how hard it would be to turn the three into a six. I
always wondered that same thing every time I stopped by.

“Quit pounding and come in!” Aunt Shirley’s voice boomed
from inside.

I turned the doorknob and went in, leaving Paige to shut the
door behind her. It was a tiny area with the main living room/kitchen/breakfast
nook all in one room, and a bedroom and bathroom down a narrow hallway off to
the left. The one bonus about the tiny living space was that it did have a
sliding glass door in between the breakfast nook and kitchen area that led to
one of the barely-there balconies.

The walls were white and bare. When she first moved in, Aunt
Shirley refused to decorate the place, claiming she wasn’t going to be there
for more than a few months, so why waste the energy. A little over a year later
she still believed that ridiculous fairy tale. But after her last escapade, I
was fairly certain Garrett and Mom were never going to let her out.

Garrett had only been in town and on the job for a few weeks
when he first met Aunt Shirley. I’d been at the office for fifteen minutes when
he called me in a fit of rage. He had Aunt Shirley locked up in a holding cell
and wanted me to come get her before he did everyone a favor and tossed the
key. I could hear my aunt in the background yelling and cursing. I hauled ass
down there to see what was going on.

When I entered the station, three officers were hanging
around smirking but refusing to make eye contact. I knew most of them…if they
weren’t saying anything, I knew it must be bad.

Rounding the corner into the holding cell area I stopped
short. There was my Aunt Shirley, her white hair covered in leaves, black soot
smeared on her face. Her clothes looked like they’d gone a round with Miss
Molly’s claws and lost. Or I should say her shirt…she didn’t seem to be wearing
any pants.

I turned to glare at Garrett.

He looked even worse than Aunt Shirley. In fact, I had to
bite my tongue to keep from laughing. His shirt was untucked in some places,
torn in others, his hair and pants were wet, and two deep scratches ran across
his cheek.

“What the hell happened?” I asked.

“Your crazy aunt went and –”

“Don’t listen to him, girl. He doesn’t know what he’s
saying,” my aunt interrupted.

Garrett turned and glared at her. “I have the right to lock
you up for a long, long time lady! Don’t push your luck!”

Aunt Shirley flipped him the bird.

I bit my tongue even harder.

Throwing up his hands, Garrett stalked over to me. “I get a
call from the local hardware store reporting an old lady had just backed a ’65
Falcon into their sign and never bothered to stop.”

“First off, watch who you’re calling old. And another thing,
you can’t
prove
it was me!”

“Wait! Tell me the Falcon is okay!” I demanded, scared to
death my dream car was totaled.

“Ha! Damn straight it’s okay. Nothing can hurt that car,” my
aunt said from the jail cell bench.

“Not only are you the only person in town to own a ’65
Falcon, but they also have surveillance cameras on the front of their store. So
I know for a
fact
it was your crazy no-pants-wearing ass.”

“Humph,” my aunt said, crossing her legs. Not a good idea…I
saw more thigh on her than I ever wanted to see.

“Ask her where her pants are,” Garrett demanded when he
noticed my visible shutter.

“Here’s the thing,” Aunt Shirley said. “I was on my way to
the hardware store to pick up a new rake. I was getting out of the car when I
noticed I accidentally forgot to put on my pants.”

Come
again?

“Wait,” I said. “Hadn’t you just been outside?”

“Hey,” my aunt exclaimed standing up, her shirt riding even
higher on her thighs.

“Sit down!” Garrett and I shouted.

My aunt plopped back down on the bench. “Anyway, like I
said, I realized I accidentally forgot my pants and hightailed it outta there. I
might have hit the sign. I’m not sure. So I go home to rectify the oversight,”
she said, glaring daggers at Garrett. “I’m walking toward the house when I
smell the fire—”

“Oh, my God, there was a fire?” I yelled.

“Oh, yes,” Garrett said staring my aunt down.

My aunt held up her hand. “I’m telling the story. So anyway,
I smell the fire and head to the back of the house. See, I’d raked a couple leaves
and broken the rake, which was why I needed a new one. Thing is, I
thought
I’d put out the fire before leaving to go to the store, but I guess not.”

“First, the fact we’re under a no burn order should have
been the first indication you shouldn’t be doing this. Secondly, the fact you
were outside raking pretend leaves
naked
should also be—”

“Pipe down. I wasn’t exactly naked.”

Closing my eyes I counted to five. “Aunt Shirley, it’s August,
there are no leaves to rake.”

“There were a few,” she countered.

“How did y’all end up looking like you do?” I asked, not
really sure I wanted to know.

“Well, when I noticed the leaves were on fire, I hurried and
grabbed the hose. Suddenly out of nowhere this lunkhead,” Aunt Shirley said,
pointing to Garrett, “runs straight for me, screaming and yelling.”

Garrett’s scratched cheek had started to develop a tic and
his face was bright red. Knowing he was going to blow at any second, I
fluttered my hands quickly for Aunt Shirley to continue. “So of course I got
frightened! I’m just an old lady with a fragile heart condition.” I knew this
to be a lie. “My first reaction was to protect myself and my virtue, so I
turned the hose on him.”

“Yes,” Garrett said, “even after I yelled for her to stop,
she just kept on spraying me. Then a spark jumped onto her decrepit wooden shed
and sent it up in flames.”

“Hey, watch who you’re calling decrepit there, sonny!”

I put my hand up to stop Garrett from charging into the
holding cell and clobbering my aunt. I remember it clearly because it was the
first time I’d ever touched him.

It left an impression.

My aunt leaned forward on the bench. “As I turned to put out
the fire on the shed, this baboon charges me, knocks me to the ground, and
starts rolling around with me. Little pervert! Probably trying to get his
jollies off on my account. What’s the matter, boy, can’t find a girl your own
age?” my aunt taunted.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. The thought of big, hunky
Garrett rolling around on the ground with my half-naked aunt was something I’d
have paid to see.

“And just my luck,” Garrett said, clenching his teeth, “my
police backup and the fire station all showed up at this time to witness me on
the ground with your aunt!”

I laughed even harder.

“I’m glad you see the humor in this,” Garrett said dryly.
“However, because of your aunt, I’m now the laughingstock of this community.
Not the impression I wanted to give my first few weeks here.”

“I’m sorry. I really am,” I lied. “Did Matt see?”

“That whippersnapper nephew of mine had the
nerve
to
lecture
me
about the dangers of fire and smoke inhalation. He’s lucky I
didn’t knock him over the head with my oxygen tank he’d just given me,” Aunt
Shirley said, “but I was needing it at the time, mind you. Otherwise I would
have. The youth of today are so disrespectful to their elders!”

Garrett turned to me and unlocked the cell.
“Get…her…out…of…here,” he said slowly, “before I change my mind and throw the
book at her.”

Not needing to be told twice, I yanked open the cell and
grabbed Aunt Shirley by the arm, shushing her when she tried to protest. I knew
when enough was enough.

The whole episode resulted in my Aunt Shirley being placed
at Oak Grove Manor, with the understanding that it would be permanent. Everyone
understood that but my aunt.

So like I said, here we are a little over a year later, and
my Aunt Shirley still believes she’s here temporarily.

Today Aunt Shirley was sitting on her couch, feet propped
up, staring at a muted television. She was dressed in lavender polyester pants
and an oversized blouse that had huge flowers in every color splattered all
over. I was glad to see she’d remembered her pants.

I never knew what to expect from Aunt Shirley. Usually she
dressed according to the situation. She once told me as a private investigator
you had to have everything from a jogging outfit to a cocktail dress handy at a
moment’s notice. Not that she goes to too many cocktail events nowadays, but she
was always prepared.

She was still pretty fit for a woman in her seventies. She
had short, white hair that barely reached her ears, and her face sprouted more
wrinkles than a shar-pei puppy. Although she was always quick to tell us about
all the movie stars she dated in Los Angeles when she was in her prime.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Janine’s girl,” my aunt rasped. “It’s
been so long I hardly recognized you.” I’d just been to see the old bat two
weeks ago, but since I needed her help I let it go.

She turned to Paige. “Hello, Paige. I haven’t gotten a
wedding invitation yet, so I’m assuming my great-nephew is still just enjoying
all that free milk, eh?” Aunt Shirley hit her leg and exploded into laughter.
Which resulted in a coughing fit. I was beginning to worry when her face
started turning red and she was doing one of those wheeze/coughs.

Paige’s face also turned red, but for a totally different
reason. She narrowed her eyes at Aunt Shirley. “I see there’s still no cure for
being a bitch.”

Oh boy, time to get down to business before Paige killed her
and we had yet
another
murder on our hands.

“Hey, Aunt Shirley, I was wondering if I could ask you some
questions about things that’ve been happening around town.” I tried to be vague
so she wouldn’t ask too many questions.

Aunt Shirley pulled open the drawer on the end table beside
the couch and pulled out an electronic cigarette.

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