1 In For A Penny Page 10

  Ed Monday was conspicuously absent. If Charlie was right about Ed being the killer, I was wasting my time checking out the assembled mourners.

  Many of my accounting clients were present and they nodded back at me. Our mayor, Darnell Reynolds, looked especially florid. Perhaps the skinny man in the bad suit sitting next to him had something to do with that. Of all the people I had observed in the church, the mayor looked the most upset. I’d see if I could corner Darnell at the reception and find out what was wrong.

  Detective Britt Radcliff stood in the back of the church. His gaze met mine, then moved on, as he scanned the packed church. Was he looking for potential suspects too?

  The words of the funeral service rolled over me. Dudley had been a royal prick most of the time. In that I agreed with Jonette. But just because someone behaved badly was no reason to kill him. If that were true, spouses would kill each other when things went haywire and no one would need divorce lawyers.

  This was the first time I’d been in church since my marriage ended. I mouthed the words of the service and hoped the roof didn’t fall in on me. Sitting in these old fashioned wooden pews and seeing the familiar scenes on the stained glass windows took me back to a time when I believed in God and my husband.

  Now I mostly believed in myself.

  It was impossible to miss the stage whisper and rustlings of papers of a very restless person in the pew directly behind me. My hearing automatically tuned in to the beacon of noise. I recognized that syrupy voice immediately. Denise. I strained to hear what she was saying to Charlie, but I couldn’t quite make out her words.

  Ordinarily I wouldn’t care what she said to Charlie. She’d fought for him and taken him from me. Their discussions were none of my business, but still I wanted to know what had her so irritated. I know it was petty of me, but nothing would make me happier than to have their newfound bliss turn to sewage.

  I fumbled with my program and glanced over my shoulder. Grim lines etched Charlie’s pale face. Either Dudley’s death had hit him very hard, or something else was going on, something very unpleasant between him and Denise.

  A spark of triumph flashed through me and I glanced fearfully toward the arched ceiling. It wasn’t charitable of me to want his marriage to fail. But how fair was it for him to ruin my life and then ride off into the sunset with a younger, perkier woman?

  I’d naively thought everything was great in my marriage and look what had happened. We’d been getting along fine, we’d had a synergistic partnership both in and out of bed, or so I thought. His infidelity had hurt all the more because I didn’t have a clue.

  Denise knew he’d cheated on me. Wouldn’t she wonder every time he was late that he was out screwing someone else?

  I would. Jonette had been right about that. I wasn’t the type to forgive and forget adultery. Charlie had burnt his bridges with me. It was up to me to rebuild my life.

  My hormones were telling me to take a long look at the golf pro, but I wasn’t sure I could trust my hormones either. How stupid would I be if I trusted Rafe not to hurt me? Heck, he might even be a cold-blooded murderer. With my instincts so out of kilter I couldn’t be sure about anything.

  I glanced at Rafe out of the corner of my eye and found him staring at me. Our gazes met and held. I felt myself growing warm. What was he thinking? Did he want to murder me or sleep with me? Was my overactive imagination seeing things where there was nothing to see? It was possible that the man flirted with women to build his golf lesson business.

  I wished for a different reality. I wanted to believe that he found me as exciting as I found him. I wanted to believe that I wasn’t washed up at thirty-five.

  I managed a little half smile, and his eyes warmed. I couldn’t bring myself to look away. How could I when looking at him made me feel so alive and desirable? And no harm had ever come from looking. My hormones did a little happy dance and I smiled the knowing smiles of women in the TV commercials for male potency.

  “Mama!” Lexy scolded, sounding more like the parent than the child. “Pay attention.”

  I broke eye contact with Rafe and faced the masses of flowers next to Dudley’s coffin. Lexy was understandably concerned about my interest in the golf pro. In her mind, her physical education teacher, Mark Hayes, and I were a match made in heaven. A match that would ensure she passed PE with flying colors.

  After Rafe delivered my purse three days ago, Lexy grilled me about his intentions in a way that reminded me of Daddy way back when. With blazing green eyes, Lexy made it clear that she didn’t think a golf pro was the man for me. She was entitled to her opinion, but frankly Mark Hayes didn’t make my blood sing or my knees melt the way Rafe did.

  We stood for the final hymn. Dudley lay before us, shrouded in lilies, in the best casket money could buy. Money could buy lots of things, but it hadn’t bought Dudley happiness.

  Bitsy dabbed at her tear-filled eyes. Her sons stood like stoic soldiers in their dark suits. Did they remember coming to this church when they were boys? They’d moved away five years ago, practically a lifetime to a kid.

  We filed out of the church and into the reception hall. I stood at Bitsy’s shoulder and helped her with people’s names. I continued with my silent detecting, but I came no closer to figuring out who killed Dudley.

  When I had a chance, I crossed over to greet Darnell. He introduced me to Robert Joy, the skinny man that was still glued to Darnell’s side. I knew that name from somewhere.

  It took me a few minutes of idle conversation to access the information in my brain. Robert Joy was the developer from Dudley’s White Rock housing development. The farm that wouldn’t perk. After a few more pleasantries about the large turnout and the tasty food, I decided I wasn’t good at subtle. My style was going directly at something.

  “May I have a word with you privately, Darnell?” I asked.

  Robert Joy left us alone.

  Darnell mopped his brow with his handkerchief. “Thanks. I was beginning to think I couldn’t shake him.”

  “What’s wrong, Darnell? I’ve never seen you so agitated.”

  “It’s that damn White Rock. Robert Joy won’t leave me alone. I wish I’d never run for mayor.”

  Darnell was my mother’s age, and he’d gotten into mayoring because he couldn’t stand being retired. He was also my wealthiest client and the dirt wad who wanted to put Jonette in jail. “It can’t be that bad.”

  “It can. Robert expects me to annex White Rock into the city.”

  “Why?”

  “So that he can build more houses on the property. Having city services changes the size of the lots.”

  “And that’s bad because?”

  “I can’t talk about it.” Darnell mopped his brow again. “I can’t believe Dudley stuck me with such a mess.”

  “Dudley had a reputation for looking after the bottom line. You should know that by now.”

  “Yeah, but he could talk the skin off a mule. I bought into his stories of a bigger and better Hogan’s Glen and now he’s not here to keep Robert Joy in line. I’m between a rock and a hard place here, Cleo.”

  “Dudley had that effect on people.”

  “He was also my friend. We pushed many projects through the town council over the five years we worked together. I owe it to his family to find out who killed him.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “How are you going to do that?”

  “I’ve told the police force to leave no stone unturned. We’re moving decisively on this. I expect there to be an arrest in the next few days.”

  “Sounds like you already know who did it.”

  “We’re very close to making the arrest.”

  I couldn’t take his smug attitude any longer. I wanted to squash Darnell for being such an insect. Instead, I stood up for my friend. “Jonette didn’t do it.”

  “You are too close to her to be objective. I’m sure this was a personal situation that got out of hand.”

  “You’re making a big mistake to fo
cus on Jonette. I’m telling you she didn’t do it.”

  “Cleo, I don’t tell you how to do my taxes. I’d appreciate it if you’d butt out and let me do my job.”

  “Every time you come in my office, you tell me how to do your taxes. Take off your rose-colored glasses and face the facts. There’s a murderer loose in our town.”

  “Not for long,” Darnell said.

  Robert Joy returned with a plate of chicken wings and I moved on. There was nothing else I wanted to say to our pigheaded mayor.

  An hour into the reception, I realized Bitsy’s color was way off. She was pale as a sheet. I sat her down in a quiet corner. “What’s wrong, Bitsy?” Other than being pregnant and burying your ex-husband, that is.

  Pain clouded her sky-blue eyes and her shoulders sagged. “I don’t feel good. I’m worried something might be wrong with the baby.”

  I held her hand and tried to be calm. I didn’t want her to lose the baby. Bitsy needed someone to take care of her.

  I caught Lexy’s eye and waved her over. Now I just needed to remember if there were any health professionals here. Britt Radcliff was the closest thing we had to a doctor or paramedic in the room. “Bitsy’s not feeling good. Go get Detective Radcliff,” I instructed Lexy.

  Moments later, Britt assisted Bitsy to a pew in the empty chapel in the church undercroft. “Lie back and put your feet up,” he said. “Bend your knees.”

  Bitsy followed his suggestions and the tightness in her face subsided. Some color came back in her face.

  Artie appeared in the doorway, concern adding years to his cherubic face. “What’s wrong with Mom?”

  I motioned him forward. “Come on in, Artie. Your Mom needed to take a break.”

  Britt inclined his head toward the door, indicating that he wished to speak with me privately. I touched Artie’s shoulder as he stood watch over his mother. “I’ll be right back, Artie.”

  Outside in the hallway, I said, “Thanks, Britt. Bitsy is in a bit of a mess.”

  Britt leveled his very direct, police officer, lie-detecting gaze at me. “She’s pregnant?”

  I squirmed uneasily beneath the weight of his truth serum gaze and I had nothing to hide. Maybe this man was good at his job. Maybe he wouldn’t let the mayor railroad him into arresting Jonette.

  Then I remembered something else. A few days ago he’d asked me if I was pregnant. “Is that all you think about? Pregnant women?”

  The corners of his lips flexed briefly in a mock smile. “I’m not as stupid as I look. During the funeral, I noticed her scratching her stomach the way my wife used to when she was carrying. That plus the green undertones in her face clued me in that something was amiss. Am I right?”

  I hesitated. Bitsy expected me to keep her secret, but the situation warranted an explanation of her behavior. I hoped she’d forgive me for breaking her confidence. “She’s pregnant, but she doesn’t want it getting out. Her boys don’t know.”

  Britt’s piercing gaze never wavered from my face. “Who is the father of the baby?”

  I swallowed thickly. “Dudley.”

  “Ah.”

  I could almost see wheels spinning in his head. What connection had he made? “Ah?”

  He steepled his fingers under his chin. “She’s already put in for the life insurance money.”

  My eyes opened wide. “You know about that?”

  “It’s my business to know these things.”

  I rushed to follow his logic. Bitsy had profited from Dudley’s death. Was Bitsy the person the mayor expected to be arrested in the next few days? “Is Bitsy a suspect?”

  “Yes.”

  My loyalty to Bitsy took offense at his conclusion, even though I’d drawn a similar one myself. Did he know about Dudley’s recent betrayal of Bitsy? “Bitsy doesn’t even live here anymore. I’m sure she has an alibi.”

  Britt leaned close and lowered his voice. “An eye witness placed Bitsy at the bank earlier this week. Just because Bitsy doesn’t live here, doesn’t mean she couldn’t have done it. I’ll be checking her story, same as I will my other suspect, but with the pregnancy and the insurance settlement she had plenty of motive to do the man in.”

  It was up to me to remind Britt that he’d known Jonette and Bitsy for years and that they were good people. “Don’t railroad my friends. You’re completely off base in your investigation. Bitsy would never kill the father of her unborn child for an insurance settlement. Bitsy would have much rather had Dudley, believe me. And, Jonette has been threatening to kill Dudley on a daily basis since they met in elementary school. If Jonette was going to kill him, she wouldn’t have waited this long to do it.”

  “Stay out of this. A man was murdered.”

  “You let Jonette go because of what I found out about Dudley’s last night. I can’t stand by and do nothing.”

  “Jonette’s not in the clear. Her prints are in his house and in his car.”

  I’d been expecting this bad news. “I’m sure there’s a very good reason for that. Did you ask her?”

  Britt started to reply but stopped when he saw we were no longer alone.

  “Aunt Cleo?” Artie tugged on my sleeve. He had loosened his tie and taken off his jacket.

  “Yes?”

  “Mom wants to go back to your place. Can you get someone to drive us? I’m not old enough to drive.”

  Poor Bitsy. My heart swelled with compassion. She was overwhelmed by events. Having to deal with the start and end of life all at the same time was too much to bear. To top that off, she’d just lost the man she loved.

  My thoughts veered into crisis management mode. If I took Bitsy home, who would stay here to represent Dudley’s family? Only one name came to mind. Charlie. He was Dudley’s best friend. He’d have to do.

  I placed my hand on Artie’s shoulder. He was trying so hard to be grown up, but I could feel him shaking under my hand. “I’ll take Bitsy home. Give me a minute to bring my car around.”

  Artie nodded and went back to wait in the chapel with his Mom. Britt walked me back upstairs to the reception hall. “You don’t have to do this,” Britt said. “I can drive Mrs. Davis to your place.”

  He’d probably grill her all the way there, and she’d end up more upset than when she left here. No way would I put Bitsy through that today. Good thing I had a ready-made excuse. I pointed to my fat, throbbing ankle. “I don’t mind. My ankle is bothering me with all this standing. I twisted it the other day and it’s not right yet.”

  As luck would have it, Grant and Lexy stood with Charlie by the dessert table in the reception hall. It was a bittersweet triumph to see that I stood a good three inches taller than my ex. I explained the situation to him. “Bitsy is worn out and needs to rest. I’m taking her home. You’re going to have to stay and represent the family, Charlie.”

  Charlie nodded in tight-lipped silence.

  I exhaled slowly. I’d been bracing for resistance, but he didn’t seem to mind being told what to do by a towering Amazon. What would have happened in our marriage if I had changed tactics with him years ago and done as I pleased?

  I turned to Lexy. “Would you and Charla stay and help Mama with the cleanup? The church ladies are here, but I’d feel better if Mama had someone with her that wouldn’t let her get too riled up.”

  Lexy nodded. Last week’s fight with Erica Hodges over how the coffeepot was supposed to be cleaned out was still fresh in our minds. Mama had very strong ideas about cleanliness in the kitchen. “No problem.”

  “Grant, do you want to stay here with your Uncle Charlie or to come with me?”

  “Mom’s all right?” Grant asked.

  I managed a thin smile. Now that I had acknowledged my twisted ankle, it had begun to throb. “She’ll be fine with a little rest.” Please, God, don’t strike me down for that white lie. Bitsy wouldn’t be okay for about another six or so months, but it wasn’t my call to tell her children about her pregnancy.

  I started towards the exit. An electric charge jo
lted through me as someone touched my shoulder. Recognition flashed in the aftermath of that stimulus. Only one man had the power to turn my bones to mush with a mere touch. I turned toward him. “Yes?”

  Concern ringed Rafe’s eyes. “All this walking around isn’t good for that ankle of yours.”

  No kidding. My ankle was now twice the size it had been when I dressed this morning, and it throbbed incessantly. Rafe’s concern was admirable, but completely unnecessary. “I’ll be fine. I’m on my way home now.”

  “Let me help you.” He slipped an arm around my waist and walked us towards the door.

  I should have said no, but he moved too fast for me. Besides, his added support took weight off of my ankle. My arm slipped around his waist to further secure the connection and my hormones soared like Roman candles.

  We moved as a three-legged creature, only I felt as if I were floating on air. I could definitely get used to this. Would my attraction to this man place me in danger? I hoped not.

  After locating my car in the parking lot, I fumbled in my purse for the keys. Between the throbbing of my ankle and the dancing hormones flooding my bloodstream, it was difficult to think clearly.

  “May I?” he asked.

  He could. In fact, he could do just about anything and I wouldn’t protest too much. I handed him my keys and allowed him to drive the Gray Beast up to the side door of the rectory. I went to unbuckle my seat belt. “Thanks. I’ll take it from here.”

  He caught my hand before it reached the buckle. “Stay put. I’ll get Mrs. Davis and drive you both home.”

  I tried to pull my hand free, but he held fast. “You don’t have to do that,” I said. “We can manage.”

  “I want to help. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

  Didn’t men think women could do anything? What did they think we did all the time when they weren’t around? My protest was halfhearted and I knew it. Rafe was being helpful. And he must be interested in me because he kept seeking me out.

  My spirits perked up a bit. It was flattering having a handsome man pursuing me. Darn flattering.

  As long as he wasn’t the murderer, that is. It wouldn’t do me any good to slide further down the food chain of Mr. Wrongs.