A Bad Egg: The Classic Diner Mystery Part 14

"I didn't think you liked us splitting up," I said.

"Come on. It's Cal. I don't think that you're going to be in any danger out here in the bright light of mid-afternoon. Find him if you can, but I'd appreciate it if you'd wait for me before you start grilling him."

"I'm not making any promises," I said as I got out of the truck.

Moose just laughed as he drove off. He knew that soliciting a promise from me had been futile, so I couldn't imagine that he was all that surprised when I refused.

I thought about going inside where it was air conditioned, but we'd found Cal outside before, and I had a hunch that was where he might be now.

I did my best to avoid the security guard, so I was walking a little stealthily around the corner when I heard a familiar voice coming just ahead.

It wasn't Cal, though.

It was Jessie.

"That's all you're getting, so don't ask again. I've reached my limit with you, Cal. If you insist on my paying you any more money, I'm just going to take my chances with the police."

"Do you really want to do that, ma'am?" Cal asked her. I peeked back around the corner and saw him tapping a fat envelope with his free hand. Wayne's story was panning out after all. Evidently, Cal was getting another payment, but Jessie had clearly reached her limit. He added, "I saw you hit your fiance just before the man was murdered, and what's more, you drew blood."

"My nail caught his cheek. It wasn't a significant injury."

"Maybe not that time, but it proves that you have a fondness for violence, and I've got a hunch that no matter how hard you scrub your hands, there's going to be traces of Gordon's blood that won't come out. But even if you manage to clean your fingertips better than Lady Macbeth, you still left some evidence behind. I found your torn fingernail on the ground and I bagged it. The funny thing is, there's blood on the tip of it. Do you really want to take your chances with the police? I can be a pretty convincing witness, if it comes down to that."

"You're the lowest kind of worm. You know that, don't you?"

Cal didn't seem to take offense at her comment at all. He just smiled, and then he said, "I'd be careful about what I said, if I were you."

"You know that I didn't kill Gordon," Jessie said. "I was in my room when someone murdered him."

"Maybe you were, but you don't have any proof, do you?"

There was silence for a moment, so I looked back around the corner. Jessie was standing closer to Cal now, and the expression on her face had hardened somehow. "Don't push me," she said with cold inflection. "If I am the one who killed Gordon, you're playing a rather dangerous game with a killer."

"You don't scare me," Gordon said, laughing.

"Then perhaps you should readjust your definition of the things that frighten you," she said.

"Jessie, you're looking at this the wrong way. I can be your best friend here, if you don't push me too hard."

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"What would you say if I told you that I know that you were in your room the entire time?"

"How could you possibly know that, unless you were watching my room?" Jessie asked. It was clear that she was unhappy to find that Cal might have been spying on her.

"As a matter of fact, I was checking on something for another guest, and I had a reason to linger in your hallway the entire time that Gordon could have been killed. With one more payment, I'll make sure the police believe me. Why shouldn't they? I'll actually be telling the truth this time."

"What are you doing?" Moose asked loudly beside me, nearly scaring me out of my shoes. I'd been so preoccupied with Cal and Jessie's conversation that I'd completely forgotten about my grandfather.

"Shhh," I said.

"Sorry," Moose said softly.

I peeked back around the corner, but both of them were gone now.

"What did I miss?" Moose asked me.

"Come on. We might as well head back to the truck."

"But I just got here," my grandfather protested.

"Sorry, but we're not going to get anything else out of Cal or Jessie right now. I'll tell you what I overheard on our walk back to the truck."

"We've got plenty of time to chat, then," Moose said in frustration. "It's more like a mile away than a few hundred yards."

I sincerely doubted that, but there was no reason to contest it. "I just caught Cal extorting one last payment out of Jessie. She told him that he wasn't getting any more cash, and he threatened her with going to the police."

"With what?" Moose asked. "Does he have actual evidence about the murder?"

"It surely doesn't sound as though he does. He did see Jessie and Gordon fighting soon before the man was murdered, though. She slapped him, and evidently she drew blood."

"How much do you want to bet he deserved it?" Moose asked.

"Whether he did or not is beside the point. Cal claimed that it showed that Jessie was violent with Gordon just before he died. I got something else interesting out of the conversation, too."

"What's that?" Moose asked as we continued our trek toward the tree line.

"Cal can alibi Jessie legitimately. He was doing something sneaky for another guest, and he happened to be in the hallway near Jessie's room the entire time during which Gordon was murdered. Can you believe he's extorting the woman with the truth? He can help her, but only if she continues to pay him."

"So, he tries to blackmail her with evidence of her fight with Gordon first, and when that plays out, he offers to alibi her. Why didn't he just lead with that, instead of backing her into a corner about the fight they had?"

"Think about it. If he could extort money without revealing any evidence of his own monkey business, the hotel would never have to know why he was lingering in that hallway."

"I've misjudged the man, and I'm not afraid to admit it," Moose said. "I thought he was back on the straight and narrow, but evidently he conned me, too."

"Don't feel too bad about it. The man is a slick operator."

"Maybe so, but I hate to be played."

"I understand that, but why don't we focus on what really matters? We can take two names off our list of suspects; Jessie and Cal."

"If Cal is really telling the truth," Moose said.

"He doesn't really have any choice in the matter, does he? Neither one of them could have possibly known that I was eavesdropping on their conversation. I believe that Cal was telling the truth when he said he could legitimately alibi Jessie for the time of the murder, and by doing that, he's alibied himself as well."

"Yes, you're right. That's what's most important, striking suspects and finding the real killer. It's still a pretty substantial list, isn't it?"

"There are more names on it than I like in the course of an investigation," I admitted. We were just about to the break in the trees, and according to Moose, our journey wasn't even halfway over yet. "Shall we go over our list now, since we've got more time to kill while we walk?"

"Why not?" Moose asked. "Let's see. The folks closest to Ellen go on the list, so that's Opal, Robert, and Wayne."

"We can't forget Ellen herself," I reminded her.

"She didn't do it," Moose said emphatically.

"Show me the proof, and I'll do cartwheels in celebration," I said. "Until we have a reason to take her off our list, though, she's got to stay. If nothing else, it's only fair to the others we're suspicious of."

"I suppose you've got a point," Moose said.

"Then who do we have outside of Ellen and her circle?"

"I'd say that Sam Jackson and Mitch.e.l.l Cobb have to go on it as well," Moose said.

"I understand Sam, but Mitch.e.l.l? Is he really all that viable a suspect?"

"Think about it. He keeps popping up in our investigation on the outskirts. Is that a coincidence, or does he have a reason to be so visible?"

"I don't know. I always thought he was a quiet guy who kept to himself," I said.

"You've just described what neighbors say about serial killers after they discover what they've done," Moose said.

"Point taken. At least he doesn't use his middle name. That seems to be a real clincher, doesn't it?"

Moose thought about it, and then smiled. "You're right. I can think of three serial killers, and they all used their middle names. That's odd."

We were off the subject. "Can we change the topic of our conversation? Serial killers give me the creeps."

"I'm with you," Moose said. "Is there anybody that we're leaving out?"

I considered other possibilities, and then I said, "No, I think that just about covers it. If there was anyone else in town who wanted to see something bad happen to Gordon Murphy, we haven't heard about them. I'd say that our list was large enough anyway, wouldn't you? I'm not afraid to admit that I'll be shattered if the real killer's ident.i.ty comes from the top half of our list."

"Yes, it would be a great deal better if it turns out to be Sam or Mitch.e.l.l. We can't count on that, though."

"I know, but I still don't have to like it," I said. "Hey, isn't that your truck?"

"It is, but the distance is a mere illusion. I must have walked half an hour coming to find you, and we've only been at it ten minutes."

"Time goes faster when you're having fun," I told my grandfather. "Besides, talking has helped pa.s.s the minutes, too."

As we got into the truck, Moose asked, "Do you have new ideas about how we should attack our investigation from here? To be honest with you, I was kind of hoping we'd be able to eliminate our friends before we started checking off the strangers involved in the case."

"I think we have to speak with the folks around Ellen a little more intently. She's probably still at Opal's or Robert's, and if she's not at either place, I'm willing to bet that she's with Wayne. There's something odd about her parents."

"What, the fact they live across the street from one another?"

"There's that, but each one has implied that I should look at the other as a possible killer. Doesn't that strike you as unusual?"

"They're both trying to protect their daughter," Moose said. "It's not all that strange at all."

"If you say so. That doesn't mean that we can let up on them, though."

"No, it surely doesn't. Let's go see if we can crash a family reunion and accuse them all of murder," my grandfather said with a wry smile.

"I'm not talking about doing anything that overt," I said. "We just need to keep questioning them."

"Agreed," Moose said. "Let's go see what the Hightowers have to say for themselves."

I pulled out my telephone and dialed the sheriff's number, but it went straight to voicemail. What I had to tell him wasn't something that I could leave in a message, so I told him to call me back when he could.

"Who did you just call?" Moose asked.

"I tried to phone the sheriff so I could tell him about Cal and Jessie, but he didn't pick up."

"He must have been doing important police business," Moose said with a smile.

"He's got his investigation, and we've got ours," I said.

"I just wish that he'd be more forthcoming about his findings."

"Moose, we always knew that it wasn't going to be a two-way street. The sheriff has a completely different job description than we do."

"Victoria, are you actually taking up for the man?"

"No, but I can still acknowledge that he's got it a lot tougher than we do. We aren't restricted by any rules or regulations about the way we can look for evidence."

"We don't have a police force at our disposal, either," Moose said.

"Fair enough. I'm just saying, he's dropped a few hints to us in the past, and if we keep him updated on what we're up to, there's a better chance that he won't shut us down. Admit it. You'd hate to sit idly by while a murderer goes free."

"No more than you would," Moose said.

"I'm not disagreeing with you," I said. "I figure he'll try to get in touch with me later."

"Knowing the sheriff, I'm sure that you'll hear from him before nightfall."

"I hope that he's not at either of the Hightower residences," I said. "It's always awkward when we show up to interrogate someone that he's already talking to."

Chapter 12.

"Are we interrupting anything?" I asked the Hightower family after they let us into Opal's place. To my surprise, Robert was there, as well as Ellen. We were in luck; there wasn't a police officer anywhere in sight when we showed up. "Where are the kids?"

"They're sleeping over at a friend's house," Ellen said. "I thought it might be a little too much to put them through all of this drama."