Murder and a Texas Brisket Read online

  I chuckled. “I’m not sure what a holy roller is, but I didn’t say I’ve never had a drink. I’ve made a vow to never drink again. Drinking is what got me here.”

  He sat in the chair adjacent to mine. “Which one of them do you think did it? My money’s on the mouthy gal and the guy that looks like a biker gang reject.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think anyone did it. Why would they? Every single one of you had high hopes of winning a million dollars. Why jeopardize that by killing one of the people that could award it to them. Killing them after I might understand, but not before.”

  He nodded. “That’s a good point. You really are good at this.”

  I didn’t explain that I was the only one left using common sense, and that stemmed from not caring about receiving any hush money from Mr. Spudson. I took a long drink of water. In the few visits I’d had with my dad, hadn’t I heard him say all homicides were committed because of love or money?

  If there were any credence to Mr. Spudson’s accusations, it would have to be over the money. That’s all this event had to offer.

  Marlin joined us in the kitchen and opened and closed cabinets. “There are spaghetti noodles and sauce in a jar. I could whip this up.”

  “I’m starving. I’ll eat anything,” Big Joe said in response.

  “Don’t eat her food. She could poison you next.” Ricky Lynn’s muffled voice could be heard through the walls.

  “Shut up!” Marlin and I both yelled at the same time.

  She winked at me and pulled a pan from underneath the sink. With nothing better to do, I stood and helped her gather the ingredients near the stove.

  A swift knock at the door announced a guard. He tugged on a leash and Austin hopped over the doorstep.

  Marlin clapped her hands and called to him but he made a beeline for me. I picked him up and gave him a little kiss on the top of the head.

  “Well, I’ll be,” she said. “I think Austin has taken a shine to you.”

  I didn’t want to steal her dog’s affection. I opened my mouth to argue, but she stopped me.

  “I don’t mind, hon. I want you both to be happy.”

  I scratched him behind the ears and set him down on the floor. After washing my hands, I stood by the stove and when the water boiled, I broke the noodles and put them inside. Austin stayed near my feet the entire time.

  Big Joe moved to the living area and crashed onto an oversized chair.

  Marlin looked through the drawers for utensils and let out a little, “Ah ha.”

  She placed a pen and paper on the table and pointed to it. “Now you can write all the facts of the investigation and we can start a murder board.”

  “A what?”

  “A murder board. Like they do on television. We only get ten thousand if we help solve it, remember?” She pointed to the fridge and decorative magnets. “You write down all the clues and we’ll arrange them until it solves the murder.”

  “I don’t think that’s how it really works.”

  “Of course, we’ll have to wait until everyone goes to bed. We can’t have the other suspects knowing we’re onto them.”

  I pushed the pen and paper to the middle of the table. “I’m not doing that.”

  She waved a serving spoon in the air. “It’s like you don’t even want to solve this mystery.”

  “What I want is to go home. Don’t you?”

  She shrugged and stirred the tomato sauce into the drained noodles. “I haven’t had this much excitement since Earl passed.”

  “Your first victim, huh?” Ricky Lynn shouted through the wall.

  “Shut up!” Marlin and I shouted back at her.

  The walls were paper thin. Even if we tried to write out clues and tack them up on the fridge, everyone would hear us discussing them, anyway. Creating distrust among the group didn’t sit well with my gut. “It’s better to wait this out until morning. When no one confesses and their lab technician can’t properly identify the poison, they’ll have to bring in law enforcement that knows what they’re doing.”

  “You are such a voice of reason. That’s why Preacher Don depends on you for so much.”

  “Actually, I’ve been thinking about stepping down with my accounting duties for a couple of the churches so I can focus on the kids a little more before Alicia leaves for college in the fall.”

  Marlin stopped mid-stir. “Hon, if you focus any more of your energy on those children you will smother the life out of them.”

  My eyes watered. I didn’t like the direction our conversation had taken. “They only have one parent. I have to do both jobs.”

  “Mm mm.” Deidre pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. “I thought the same thing. Now my kids live so far away I have to catch a plane and train to see them.”

  I wiped under my eyes to keep the tears from falling. “You have kids?”

  “Two boys.” She placed her hands under her chin to prop up her head. “Their daddy dropped us like a pair of hot cooking tongs when they were babies. I spent many a year focused on giving them all the attention I thought they needed.”

  I stood to place plates around the table. “And they still left you?”

  “They needed to make their own way in the world. I should’ve been doing the same.” Terry walked in and placed a hand on her shoulder. “This big lug and I would have been married much sooner and they would’ve had a decent father figure if I’d pulled my head out of my butt and stopped thinking I had to be their everything. My advice is to let them see you living your own full life.”

  “Food’s ready!” Marlin yelled to the occupants of the house. She slapped spaghetti on the plates for five of us and left two plates empty. “Ricky Lynn and her fella can fix their own.”

  Having had enough talk of the kids and how to be a better mom, I shifted the topic of focus. “Marlin, I have to say this feud with your cousin seems to go a little deeper than a stolen recipe.”

  “Agreed,” Big Joe said. “I got a cousin I don’t like none, but I wouldn’t drive through three states just to make his face turn red.”

  She shoveled a large bite of noodles into her mouth as if to avoid the topic. As open a book as Marlin appeared, I guess some things needed to stay between family.

  Austin snuffled and rubbed the back of my leg, a sign he needed another potty break.

  I took three big bites of my food to finish my plate, then grabbed his leash from the counter. The guard on the other side of the door grunted when I stepped through. He scrolled through the screen of his smart phone.

  “Pup needs a potty break. Can I walk him in the grass, please?”

  “Stay close,” the man answered and focused his attention back on the phone.

  I hovered beside him. “Any chance I can use your phone?”

  He cut his gaze at me and raised an eyebrow. “No.”

  At least I could say I tried. I pulled Austin toward the grass. “Now, I want you to mark up every piece of well-manicured grass in this yard.”

  Austin kept his nose to the ground like a hound dog, and I trailed him through the yard. From the corner of my eye, I caught a shadowy figure making a run for the food trucks. A guard? But why would they run? A cloud that had been covering the rising moon shifted and the little piece of light gave me a clear view of the runner.

  The pirate.

  10

  Did I yell and tip off the guards? I certainly didn’t want to be the reason a man got a lead bullet in the back. I danced from one foot to the other. Austin whimpered as if sensing my spike in anxiety.

  Surely the man knew that even if he made it onto the truck and got it started that he’d be stopped at the front gate. What if he was hiding evidence the guards had missed in their search? Ricky Lynn and her pirate were the only two out of the contestants who’d been unwilling to be forthcoming with any information. Maybe their lack of cooperation meant something significant.

  I sounded like Marlin. Twenty minutes ago I’d been sure that none of the con
testants was the murderer. Either way, if someone didn’t stop him now, the possibility of someone’s escape could cause escalation beyond repair.

  Instead of calling out, I trotted back to the guard in front of the pool house, tugging Austin on his leash to make his stubby legs keep up. I’d hate myself for this later. “There’s somebody sneaking onto one of the trucks. Please don’t shoot them.”

  The guard lifted his two-way radio and relayed the information to another guard. Less than ten seconds later, yelling and a dance of flashlights ensued near the trucks.

  Marlin and Big Joe joined me and the guard at the side of the house.

  “What’s going on, hon?” Marlin asked.

  I ducked my head, unable to escape the worry I’d made a mistake telling on one of the other contestants. “There’s someone at the trucks.”

  The clouds shifted again and I could make out Craig plus another guard marching the pirate back to the pool house.

  “That doesn’t look good.” Big Joe kept his voice low. “How did he get out of the house?”

  I shrugged. “Bedroom window, maybe.”

  Marlin turned to our guard and scoffed. “I bet you’re gonna be in trouble.”

  I shushed her. “Don’t taunt the men with guns.”

  A few feet out a grumbly voice could be heard. “I told you. I needed my insulin shot. Especially, if I have to eat that carb-fest Marlin prepared.”

  When they were in full light of the house, Craig nodded to our guard. “Search him.”

  The pirate thrust out his hand and showed a small vile and syringe. “You don’t have to. This is what I needed.”

  Craig took one finger and pushed up his cowboy hat. “Why didn’t you ask the guards to get it for you? Sneaking around out here isn’t good for your health.”

  “Being a diabetic is private,” the man shot back.

  Ricky Lynn, Deidre and Terry joined us outside the house, the commotion was hard to miss.

  “Search him anyway,” Craig said to the nearest guard.

  The man began a full pat down of the pirate’s arms, legs, and midsection. I didn’t want to watch but like a bad accident on the interstate, everyone looked. The guard stopped patting at the pirate’s back and lifted his shirt. A blue vinyl zipper bag was stuck into the waistband of his jean shorts.

  The guard opened the zipper and rifled through. “Money. Couple thousand, maybe.”

  Ricky Lynn dashed forward and snatched the bag. “That’s our traveling money. Some of us don’t trust banks.” She turned to Craig. “And we certainly don’t trust your men not to take it while we sleep.”

  Craig cleared his throat. “Let me make this clear to all y’all. If you need something from one of those trucks, you’d better say so now. Otherwise, my men won’t be so gentle next time they catch you.”

  He turned toward me, his expression strained. “Mr. Spudson wants to see you in the main house.”

  I licked my dry lips. There could be nothing I wanted less than to have a conversation with a rich madman.

  His mustache twitched. “I’m afraid it’s a firm request.”

  My shoulders slumped, and I handed Austin’s leash to Marlin.

  She pushed my hand away and faced Craig. “Nope. Beanie and I are a team. Where she goes, I go.”

  As much as I loved Marlin’s loyalty in that moment, I worried more about the distraction she’d cause. If I could talk sense into Mr. Spudson, it needed to be alone and one-on-one. Not that I had my hopes up high on that front. Since I’d so willingly turned on the pirate, they probably thought they had a narc in their midst.

  “It’s okay, Marlin.” I handed her the leash and made her take it. “If I’m not back in thirty minutes or so, then you can come in mouth blazing.” I leaned close to her. “I need you to keep an eye on Ricky Lynn and her partner.”

  She perked up with the added sense of purpose. “Will do, sweetems. He ain’t getting out that window again.”

  The two guards ushered the rest of the contestants into the house while I followed Craig down the brick path toward the mansion.

  “You did the right thing telling my man about Mr. Rory.”

  “Wait, the pirate’s name is Rory? Huh.” No wonder he wouldn’t tell anyone his name. Rory would kill the mean-dude biker image almost immediately. “Still, I did it more because I don’t want to see anyone get hurt. Not because I think he had anything to hide.”

  Craig opened the one side of double glass doors leading into the back of the main manor.

  My breath hitched in my throat at the ornate display of twisted iron and gold leaf accents, and that was the back of the staircase. Thick decorative rugs lined the hardwood floors and led the way to an open foyer. A portrait of a woman with flowing dark hair and a golden gown that reminded me of the one worn by Belle in the Beauty and the Beast cartoon took up a good portion of the wall.

  “The first Mrs. Spudson,” Craig said when I stalled in front of her.

  “She’s lovely. What happened to her?”

  “Not sure.” He shed the cowboy hat and set it on a table with a vase. “She died before my employment and Mr. Spudson doesn’t like to talk about it.”

  I empathized with the reluctance to share memories of a spouse who’d passed on. They were gone and no amount of talking about it would bring them back.

  “She was to be queen and I, the king.” Mr. Spudson came up behind us. He leaned heavily on a cane as if the excitement from the day’s events had worn him down. “The second wife has asked me to take it down numerous times, but my heart won’t let me do it. Yet.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” Hollow words of sympathy I’d heard a thousand times. At first I kept count of each sorry but eventually let that go too.

  “Y’all follow me into the study.”

  We followed Mr. Spudson into a traditionally masculine study complete with a Cherry wood desk and matching bookcases. A burgundy lounge chair and ottoman were fixed near a marble fireplace. In the seat was a copy of Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Collection. On a table beside the chair were the items confiscated from the trucks.

  He gestured to the two leather chairs positioned in front of the desk while he sat heavily in the swivel chair behind it. “Craig told me he deputized you, Ms. Beanie.”

  I sighed and rubbed my face with my hand. “Can we just agree, in here amongst ourselves, that isn’t a real thing?”

  He chortled and nodded to Craig. “I can see why you took a shine to this one. There’s no slack in her rope.”

  I spoke plainly. “Does this mean you’re ready to let us go?”

  His jovial expression turned flat in less than a second. “It means that I’m promoting you to head negotiator.”

  “Who, um, who am I negotiating with?” My tongue felt heavy in my mouth. Negotiating usually went along with the terms hostage and a swat team.

  “The contestants.” He used the top of his cane to tap on the desk. “If I get a confession by eight a.m. tomorrow, I’ll split one million dollars among the rest of you on top of what I’ve already offered. The culprit gets turned over to the county sheriff and the rest of you are free to go with a check in your hand.”

  My heart raced. If only one person were guilty, that was an extra one hundred thousand six hundred and sixty-six dollars. Superstition alone gave that split a bad mark from the start. “You can’t do that. They’ll turn on each other for that kind of money. It won’t matter who is actually guilty, they’ll force a confession out of someone.”

  “That’s the idea,” he drawled. “I want a full confession.”

  “Why is it so important for you to have a confession? Why solve this without the assistance of the proper authorities and competent police work?”

  “The county commissioners have been petitioning to have my town reverted to their control. That’s all they need is to find a reason to take this to the governor.” He sniffed and adjusted a picture sitting on the desk. “But that’s not for you to worry about. Your job is to relay my
offer to the others.”

  “I won’t.” I crossed my arms. His misguided reasons still didn’t make his actions right. “I can’t be bought.”

  His face crumpled into a red blob of fury as he leaned forward, ready to give me the full brunt of his wrath. Much like Jackie when he’d been a three-year-old, and I’d told him no about buying a new toy he didn’t need. This steadied my resolve. I could handle a toddler temper tantrum. There had to be another solution.

  A knock sounded on the door and Gérard leaned in. “Mrs. Spudson is down for the evening, sir.” His French accent floated his words into the room. “Will you be needing anything else?”

  “That’ll be all for now, Gérard.” Mr. Spudson sucked in a large breath and blew it out between pursed lips. “He’s also my valet,” he answered as if I had asked the question.

  “Can I speak with him?” The question left my mouth before my usual hesitance could stop it.

  Mr. Spudson settled into his chair and scratched his chin. “What for?”

  Someone needed to gather all the facts. Someone needed to prevent the case from being completely ruined. “Listen, I won’t take your money bribe back to the contestants but I believe you will push me into a stalemate if I don’t help get answers. I spoke with Karen earlier, and Gérard should be next on the list. In fact, anyone who entered the tent should be interviewed about their version of events leading up to Charles’s death.”

  A wry smile slid onto Mr. Spudson’s face. “So you do want to play detective like Ms. Marlin said?”

  “I want to go home.” I didn’t think I could explain it any plainer than that. “I want the county sheriff to come in and do their jobs.”

  “But if that’s not an option…” he trailed off. “Why don’t we handshake on another deal. If you can find me some solid answers by the time we get the lab results, then I won’t make any more money offers to the contestants. I won’t even let them know there was an offer of more money on the table. However, if you can’t get closer to the truth than we are right now, I’ll offer money to everyone but you, and then I’ll tell them you attempted to keep them from a bigger money deal.”