Body in the Antique Trunk-A Lady Locksmith Mystery Page 7

  “I know, but did he give you a reason why he was doing it?”

  I chewed my lip, thinking back. “He said something like, ‘I’ve never given her a key, but I think she may have one anyway. I couldn’t find my keys a couple of times, then they showed up again. She may have taken them to make copies.’”

  “I see. So it makes sense to take the precaution of changing the locks, in case she had made copies.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But, that’s not really a connection. If so, you could claim a connection of sorts to half the town, and maybe a couple of nearby towns as well.”

  I smiled at him, relief sending a warm glow through me. Thank goodness Chance saw it that way. Maybe I was off the hook about being connected this time. “That’s what Ardis said at lunch today. Thanks, Chance.”

  “You’re welcome. Speaking of lunch, want to meet me at the Flame for lunch tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” I said surprised. He doesn’t invite me to lunch often. Usually, he’s working. “What’s the occasion?”

  “Tomorrow is Alfred’s funeral at eleven. I have to attend, just to see if anyone suspicious turns up, but I should be able to meet you by twelve or so. Then I have to head into the cities.”

  “Sounds good,” I said.

  “So I can take a break tonight. Which movie did you rent?”

  “A love story. We watched an action flick the last time, remember?” I sent him a wicked grin and began clearing the table.

  “I’ll set up the movie,” Chance said with a groan, and went to the living room.

  We happily cuddled on the couch, watching the sweet love story and making out. I really adore warm and cozy evenings like this. The love story got us all primed for our own loving. When the movie ended, he slid my blouse aside and nuzzled my breast. Heat shot through me at his attention, and I couldn’t help but sigh and press closer to him.

  “Your bed would be more comfortable,” he murmured in my ear.

  “True,” I agreed, and allowed him to pull me to my feet and head down the hall to my bedroom. It was hours before we slept.

  ***

  The phone shrilled beside my bed, jerking me awake. I pushed the blanket aside and sat, grabbing the phone with one hand and snapping on the bedside lamp with the other. I blinked in the sudden brightness and managed to get my voice to respond. “Hello?”

  “Is this the locksmith?” The woman’s voice was tense.

  “Yes.” I stifled a yawn.

  “I’m locked out of my car in St. Croix. Can you come unlock it for me?”

  “Sure. What’s the address?” I pulled the notepad and pen on my nightstand closer, preparing to write down the address.

  “I’m at the Chicken Shack in St. Croix.”

  She rattled off the street address and I wrote it down, frowning at the unfamiliar address. “You mean the KFC?”

  “No, the Chicken Shack. It’s just off A39.”

  “A39? Where is that from highway 8?” Was I still half asleep or what? I shook my head trying to clear it.

  Chance woke up and asked, “What’s going on? It’s two a.m., for God’s sake. Tell the drunks to sleep it off until morning.”

  “Hush,” I said, turning my back on him.

  “Highway 8? I don’t know where that is. A39 is the main highway here.”

  Into the phone I said, “I don’t know any road or place like that.”

  She repeated the address, her voice impatient.

  I drew a deep breath and finally asked, “Are you sure we’re talking about the same town? St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin?”

  “Wisconsin? No, I’m on St. Croix Island.”

  I frowned, trying to get my sleepy brain around what she’d said. “You mean the island in the Atlantic Ocean?”

  “Ye-es. In the Virgin Islands.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake. I’m in the United States, on the Minnesota and Wisconsin border.”

  “Oh, my God,” she squeaked.

  “I don’t believe this. How did you find this number, anyway?”

  “I googled St. Croix and locksmith on the internet,” she said in a little voice. “Sorry.” And the line went dead.

  I laughed, hung up my phone, turned off the light and snuggled back under the covers with Chance. I knew he’d been awake, so I ran my hand along his hard abs, enjoying the feel of his warm skin against mine. I snuggled closer, spooning up to him.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked in a sleepy voice.

  “She wanted me to open her car.”

  “Yeah? What’s so funny about that? You open cars all the time.”

  “Sure. But she’s on St. Croix Island, in the middle of the Atlantic,” I said.

  He laughed, too. He flipped over and began sliding a hand between my legs, sending a hot wave of desire through me. He nuzzled my neck with his warm lips. “You should have told her to buy you a plane ticket and you’d be there on the next flight. You could have gotten a nice Caribbean vacation out of it.”

  “Yeah, right.” I wriggled closer and met his kiss, then reached down to find him already hard and ready. So we made good use of that situation.

  ***

  The next morning, Chance went to Sheriff Ben’s office to discuss progress on the murder cases. He filled a Styrofoam cup with coffee from the pot on a side table and sat in the chair opposite him.

  Ben pushed the bakery box of fresh donuts closer to him and said, “So what’s new? Anything?”

  Between bites of a glazed donut, Chance related what he’d found on the internet, finishing with a sigh. “I couldn’t find any connection between the two murders, even though it seems obvious to me that there must be one. What I found so far isn’t much help, I’m afraid.”

  “No, it doesn’t sound like it,” Ben said. He leaned back in his office chair and stretched his long arms behind his head. “What about Alfred’s son?”

  “The daughter says he was on the road. He’s a long-haul trucker.”

  “Better check that out with his employer. Most keep gps units in their trucks to keep tabs on the drivers,” Ben said.

  “Yeah, I did that. They said they haven’t started using gps units yet. They just call the drivers and give them assignments. He was on a break and didn’t have any jobs listed for the past three days.”

  “Huh.” Ben arched a brow. “Then he could have been anywhere, including back here?”

  “I suppose. I can try to trace his cell phone. Or see where he used his credit cards,” Chance said.

  “Okay. What about the ex-wife? Think she could have done him in?”

  “I don’t know. She seems cold and not at all sad that he’s dead. Apparently, the lawyers had already come to an agreement with Alfred on the divorce terms. But her lawyer says he didn’t tell her about it until yesterday. She wasn’t happy about that and was more concerned about who was going to inherit the store. Her new boyfriend is another possibility. She claims they spent the evening and night of the murder together at her house, but we have only her word for that. I need to check out both of their stories.”

  “Well, keep digging. Maybe something will turn up.”

  “Just so it’s not another body,” Chance grumbled. He downed the last of his coffee and tossed the Styrofoam cup into the wastebasket. Rising, he ambled back to his own office and went back to work on his computer. Then he spent an hour knocking on doors of people near Alfred’s store, finding no one who’d heard or seen anything unusual.

  ***

  Bill Anderson, Alfred’s son, finally charged his cell phone at a motel in Missouri where he’d stopped on his way back to Des Moines after enjoying a couple of days off in Las Vegas. He received a call from Lisa giving him the news of his father’s murder. Sick with grief and guilt for not visiting his dad more often, he drove back home, parked his rig at his Des Moines apartment and called his boss, asking for time off. His boss groaned, saying it was hard to reschedule loads on such short notice, but he understood.

  Bill climbed in his car and
headed for Canton. He’d talked to Lisa and knew his sister had already taken charge of funeral arrangements, provided his father’s body had been released. Lisa was a teacher and a take-charge sort of person. As the oldest child, she was used to doing that, and he had always let her, even now, when he was grown. He hated funerals, but there was no choice now, he had to attend the one for his father tomorrow. Lisa would never forgive him if he didn’t.

  There wasn’t a lot of choice in motels in Canton, but he managed to get a room. He showered and went to bed to try to catch up on sleep, but just lay there tossing and turning.

  He wondered if Lisa and Kendra had crossed paths yet. He couldn’t help grinning. He’d like to be there when they did. They hadn’t gotten along from the day his father had introduced them to each other. Lisa was protective of her dad and thought Kendra didn’t really care about him and was only out for herself. And in his opinion, she was right.

  Kendra was such a selfish bitch. Too bad the old man had fallen for her tricks. He’d certainly been thinking with his dick instead of his head when he’d done that. But in the end, Alfred had come to his senses and split with her. I wonder if their divorce was finalized?

  He called Lisa and she updated him on what was going on. She explained what the lawyer had told her, then said, “Kendra is furious and promising to sue. Apparently, everything about Dad’s stuff is on hold for now. The funeral is scheduled for eleven in the morning at the Canton Memorial Home, with a short service at the cemetery to follow.”

  “Thanks, Sis,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

  He went to bed and tried to get to sleep. Would a judge side with Kendra? Whatever would be, would be. The old man had never listened to him anyway, and now it was too late to change anything.

  He’d have to wait for morning to talk to the Sheriff and see if they’d made any progress on finding his dad’s killer. He’d certainly never expected his father to die like that.

  ***

  The funeral service the next morning was well attended. Chance sat in a back row of the chapel, trying to stay in the background, and watching for anything unusual. He knew murderers often attended funerals. But how was he to know which of these people were truly mourners and which suspects?

  Bill and Lisa were overwhelmed by all the local people who came to express their sorrow about Alfred’s murder. They told them what a nice man Alfred had been, and how much they would miss him. The Flame’s group of men who met for coffee and meals together were especially sad. Frank and Larry made a point of telling them how much they had enjoyed their time together.

  Bill talked to his Aunt Iris and his cousin, Lola Jarrin, whom he seldom saw. Later, at the cemetery, he noticed Lola and Kendra standing off to one side with their heads together talking. Kendra wore a black dress more suited to a cocktail party than a funeral, showing off her ample breasts and behind. Her new boyfriend, Harold Smith, in a flashy suit and gold Rolex watch, hung close to her.

  After the short commitment ceremony, as everyone stood around talking, Kendra came over to Bill. She smiled coquettishly and leaned close to kiss his cheek, showing him her bare cleavage. “Oh, Bill, it’s so good to see you again. It’s been way too long.”

  “Oh?” Bill murmured, stepping back to avoid the cloud of French perfume that surrounded her.

  She nodded, then eyed him cautiously. “I wish you’d try to talk some sense into your sister. You know your father and I were still married, so it’s only right that I should inherit his store and property.”

  Bill managed a smile. “That’s not what Dad’s lawyer says. He says your divorce agreement was all settled and final, just waiting for the court’s approval.”

  “But it can’t be finalized now that Alfred is dead,” Kendra said, her bright red lips pouting.

  “Nor can the terms be changed. What he agreed and signed with his lawyer is his last wish,” Bill said. “So that’s what I have to honor. That’s what Dad would want me to do, I’m sure.”

  “We’ll see you in court, then.” Kendra scowled and stalked back to Harold.

  The two of them marched off to his Cadillac and drove off, just missing hitting an old, blue sedan parked behind them.

  ***

  Buddy ground his teeth at the guy in the fancy suit who’d barely missed ramming into him with his big, new Caddy. Too bad he hadn’t, might have banged up that expensive car. Though Buddy didn’t want the attention from the cops that an accident would have brought.

  He’d come to Drummer’s funeral in hopes that some of the others of the Lions gang would appear. Surely Drummer had made connections with them if any of the rest were indeed here in Minnesota. He had to find them, damn it! But so far, he hadn’t seen any of them.

  Now everyone was leaving the cemetery. That cop was still hanging around. He was one of the ones he’d seen when they’d found Goldie’s body, too. Must work this whole area. Maybe he’d follow him and see if he made connection with anyone.

  Or he could go back to the Flame and see if Jonesy and his bodyguards showed up again.

  Yeah, that was probably the best idea. Get rid of the ones he’d already found and worry about the rest later.

  Chapter 7

  I worked on changing locks for an apartment building in Canton for most of the morning, then drove to Landers to meet Chance for lunch as we’d planned the night before.

  A huge busload of senior citizens filled the dining room where we usually ate, so I grabbed one of the booths in the coffee shop end of the restaurant. Chance joined me after a few minutes. We ordered sandwiches and iced tea from the harried, older waitress, who poured our drinks and said, “I’m afraid there may be a wait for your food today. That tour group didn’t even let us know they were coming, so we could bring in extra help.”

  “That’s okay,” I said, gratefully sipping the icy brew. “I’m not in a rush.”

  She sent me a grateful little smile and dashed back to the kitchen with our orders.

  Chance told me about seeing Bill and Kendra arguing at the cemetery.

  “Probably about who gets what of Alfred’s property,” I said with a shrug.

  “Yeah,” Chance agreed. “It usually is.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, Chance, I need to visit the ladies’ room. I grabbed this booth because the place is so busy today and didn’t get a chance to wash up after my last job.”

  “Sure thing.”

  I made my way around the booths and counter to the bathrooms located between the coffee shop and the dining room half of the restaurant. A man with a dark beard and a John Deere cap pulled down over his eyes stared at me, sending a chill down my spine. I hurried on and ducked into the ladies room. When I came back out, I was pleased to see he’d disappeared.

  ***

  Buddy sat in the Flame, eating his lunch. He kept an eye out for Jonesy or his bodyguards. He didn’t see them today, but he saw someone else.

  He couldn’t believe it. That woman sitting alone in the back booth was the locksmith and now that he got a better look at her, he realized why she looked familiar. He recognized that turned up nose and hazel eyes that saw too much. She was in disguise now, too. She used to call herself Carrie Phipps, and she’d worked for that Chicago newspaper. She’d been the nosy reporter who wrote articles about the Lions and the Bears’ rivalry. She’d always stirred up people against them, and got the cops on their case, so the Bears had vowed revenge on her, but hadn’t succeeded.

  He’d bet she’d followed some of the Lions or Bears here. She was probably snooping around again and knew where the other Lions were hiding.

  Yeah, here comes that cop he’d seen at the cemetery. He’s sitting with her. Bet they’re working together. Probably playing together, too. Can’t blame him, she’s pretty. Maybe he’d get her naked and have a little fun with her himself. Been a long time since he’d had a woman. She had perky breasts and a nice figure. He grew hard just thinking about what he’d like to do with her. He’d pound her good like she
hadn’t been fucked before.

  Then he’d get whatever she knew about the gang members out of her. And he’d make her pay for all the trouble she’d caused the Bears back in Chicago. As well as for putting those new locks on Goldie’s house so he couldn’t get back in without breaking in and risking getting caught. She deserved whatever she got.

  She got up and moved right over to him. Yikes, was she going to question him for some article or other? He held his breath as she came close, then let it out in a sigh of relief as she moved past him and went on to the bathrooms.

  On second thought, waiting to deal with her until he could have his fun with her was too risky. She might recognize him today and tell that cop he was a member of the Bears. Best to get out of here and take care of her before she did that, and ruined his plans.

  Buddy went outside, found her van and moved his car to a spot close behind it, but not too close. Waiting for her to appear was nerve-wracking. The sun had heated his car to an uncomfortable temperature and it smelled of rancid French fries. Ugh. Time to clean out the garbage in here. His own sweat added to the stench in the stale air. He opened the window for both some fresh air and in readiness to shoot through it, then checked his gun to be sure it was loaded. He laid it on the seat beside him and got out more shells, just in case he needed them.

  Then he hunched down behind the wheel with his cap pulled down over his eyes like he was sleeping and watched the restaurant door. She and the cop had evidently arrived in separate vehicles, he could only hope they left the same way. If the cop stayed with her, he’d have to figure something else out.

  But soon they appeared outside the restaurant door. Pleased, he watched her stop on the sidewalk to talk to another woman. The cop waved goodbye to her, got into a sheriff’s car and drove away. In a few minutes, the other woman went into the restaurant and the reporter/locksmith lady came on down the street to her van.

  Traffic was heavy and she had to wait for a semi to go past before she could pull out. Finally she did and moved ahead in line at the stoplight joining highways 95 and 8.

  He wiped the nervous sweat from his hand on his jeans, picked up the gun and maneuvered into the turn lane beside her. Quickly raising the gun, he fired twice at her just as the light turned green and she pulled ahead. He couldn’t tell if he’d hit her, but had to get out of there. He turned right on highway 8 between several other cars and headed up the hill and around the bend, away from the town.