Laid Out and Candle Lit Page 5

  “The Taliaferros were getting a divorce, and he’d left her with two small children. The woman just couldn’t make it on her own. I thought we should re-finance her note and reduce her payments. I told Marlene I felt sure I could get the Board to agree to my suggestion for the Walkers and the Addisons, but I wasn’t convinced about Mrs. Talaferio unless I had her support. Marlene refused. So I told her I’d buy the house and let Mrs. Talaferio rent it from me. She told me I was stupid and in anger I said the wrong thing. I told her it’s what Boone would do. She flew into a rage.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Nothing. I ignored her. I asked Leah to draw up the papers for the purchase. Marlene warned her that if she did, she’d fire her. Carl tried to intercede, but she belittled and berated him like she always did. In the end, she stormed out of the bank. That’s the last time I saw her until the cemetery. I know it sounds bad, but Marlene and I have argued for years. We’d never had an argument worth killing her over. You’ve got to believe me. I would never hurt her.”

  Ridge stared down away from her, opened the car door and let the overhead light come on to give her a clear view of his face as he spoke. “Let me tell you what I think. By telling me about the argument, you’ve given me five more people as possible suspects. Losing your home is definitely a reason to be angry with someone. Leah couldn’t have been happy about being threatened with losing her job. And after the way she treated Carl, maybe he’d had enough. I’ll tell you again. Trust me, Tizzy. Let me do my job.”

  There was a long moment of silence. “C’mon, I’ll help you get Gracie to bed.”

  He removed Gracie from her car seat and walked slowly through the house. When Tizzy turned on the lamp, he looked around the living room. It was exactly as he thought it would be, soft and feminine like Tizzy. He couldn’t help but notice the pictures of Tizzy and Boone on the wall next to the fireplace. When he reached Gracie’s room, the sign above the door read “Princess Grace Ann.” He laid her down and stared into her angel face. She looked like her mother. He stood in the doorway as Tizzy tucked her in, placed a sweet kiss on her cheek and whispered, “I love you a bushel and a peck.”

  No way could this woman be a murderer, he thought.

  She stood and turned to face him. They were close. So close that he could feel her body heat, and his heart lost its rhythm for a moment. Unconsciously, he pushed a strand of loose hair behind her ear, his fingers slightly brushing her cheek.

  “Thank you for telling me about the argument,” he said. “I’m not your enemy, Tizzy. In a murder case, if you’re innocent, I’m the best friend you can have. Goodnight.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ridge hated Texas weather. It was only ten o’clock in the morning, and the temperature already hovered near one hundred degrees. A light covering of clouds caused the humidity to hang in the air, make his clothes stick to his body and his lungs work for breath. The forecast offered no hope of improvement. He opened the door to the station house, and a blast of cool air gave him immediate relief.

  Inside, he saw the dispatcher, Rita Pridmore, short, rotund, and masculine, with a lazy eye, eating a Moon Pie, raking the crumbs into the trash can as they fell onto her desk. Chief Ramsay and Dan sat next to her, each drinking a cup of coffee.

  “Good morning, Cooper, “Rita said.

  “Good morning, Rita, Chief, Dan.” Ridge set his briefcase down and removed a file folder. Before he could say anything else, the door swung open and Bubba stepped inside humming.

  They all looked at Bubba. Then Earl Dean spoke. “Are you humming?”

  Bubba didn’t answer.

  Chief Ramsay shouted. “Bubba! Are you humming?”

  Bubba lost his thought. “What?”

  “I said, are you humming?”

  “No. I’m not humming,” Bubba answered.

  Dan McAlister cocked his head. “Yes you were. You were humming.”

  “No, I wasn’t.”

  “Hell yes, you were humming,” Dan said.

  Chief Ramsay leaned forward in his chair. “God Almighty! Did something happen during your little Sweet Thangs stakeout? Did somebody give you something to hum about?”

  “No, and I was not humming,” Bubba denied, shaking his head. “Besides, it wasn’t just my stakeout. I had Cooper with me.”

  Dan McAlister jerked his head toward Cooper. “You’re not humming too, are you?”

  Ridge thinned his lips. “No, I’m not humming.”

  Rita spoke up. “According to my sources, Bubba has reason to hum.”

  Bubba clenched his jaw. “Your sources say anything about Tizzy? Cooper took her home.”

  Dan McAlister leapt to his feet and stepped toward Ridge. “Maybe I should ask you about Tizzy. Are you sure you’re not humming?”

  “Settle down,” Ridge said, putting some steel in his voice. “I drove her home because she’d had one too many Margaritas. Nothing more.”

  “God Almighty, Bubba. Did you and Rayann hook up after your shift, or not? Son, please tell me you didn’t chicken out. Tell me for once in your life, you followed through with that girl,” Chief Ramsay’s tone was full of disgust. “God Almighty! She’s done everything but strip nekked and march down Main Street to get your attention. Did you or did you not?”

  Bubba nervously tapped his foot. “Exactly why in the hell is my sex life so important to y’all? Let’s say I did hook up with her, not that I did, but what difference would it make? It’s nobody’s business but mine.” He looked beyond the men to Rita. “Help me out here, Rita.”

  Still holding the Moon Pie in one hand, she raised the other one in surrender. “I’m sorry, Bubba. You were humming and from what I heard, it does have something to do with Rayann. The Chief’s right, she’s been flirtin’ with you for a long time. I’ve been wondering if you were ever gonna make a move. I guess you finally did or did she put the move on you?”

  Bubba ducked his head and mumbled, “No comment.”

  Rita finished off her snack, scraped the rest of the crumbs into the trash, and took a long swig of her diet root beer. “Y’all know how you can tell when a man is really serious about a woman?”

  All four men turned to face her waiting for the answer.

  She smiled. “He won’t talk about the bedroom stuff. If he doesn’t care about her, he’ll brag about his conquest. He’ll talk about what he did to her and what she did to him and how wild and kinky she was. He won’t leave out anything. As a matter of fact, he’ll probably embellish the story a little. But, if he loves her . . . if he’s serious about her, he’s not about to tell anything. That’s his. All his. And he doesn’t want any other man knowing about what’s his.” She winked at Bubba with her good eye.

  Chief Ramsay bolted to his feet. “God Almighty! Would you look at that?”

  Ridge jumped out of the way as Chief Ramsay flew out the door past him.

  He along with everyone else walked to the front window and watched the chief put an elderly man into Bubba’s patrol car.

  Who’s he?” Ridge asked.

  Bubba shook his head. “I’ll be damn. Old man Tafford. His kids came last weekend and took his car away from him. It looks like he’s come to town on his riding lawn mower.”

  Everyone was still laughing when Chief Ramsay came back in.

  Bubba grabbed his hat. “Let me guess. I need to take Mr. Tafford home.”

  The chief nodded his head. “Yeah, you do. First, take his mower to the impound lot. I told him we’d keep it here a few days; and if he does this again, we’ll take it away for good.”

  Bubba put his hat on and was humming as the door closed behind him.

  Inside, they all broke into laughter.

  * * * * *

  Ridge watched Bubba leave and Carl Weston arrive. Carl, just under six feet tall, clearly worked out and looked younger than forty-six. He wore a navy blue tailor-made suit and a red tie that screamed money.

  Ridge led Carl down the hall into a small office and motioned for hi
m to take a seat. “I appreciate you coming in, Mr. Weston.”

  “Of course. Anything I can do to help in finding out who killed my wife, I’m happy to do,” Carl said, trying to get comfortable in his chair. “Please, Officer Cooper, call me Carl.”

  “I’m going to cut right to the chase . . . Carl. What type of insurance policy did your wife have, and who’s the beneficiary?”

  “I understand. I’ve seen enough crime shows on television to know I’m the most likely suspect.” Carl relaxed. Finally getting comfortable in the chair, he stretched out his legs and rested his hands in his lap. “She had two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in life insurance, and we’ve had the policy since the first year of our marriage. Naturally, I’m the beneficiary, just as she is . . . was . . . the beneficiary of mine.”

  “What about her shares in the bank? Do you get those?” Ridge asked.

  “I get thirty percent, and each of the children gets ten percent,” he answered, his voice calm and smooth.

  Ridge pursed his lips. “I see. Does it bother you that Miss Donovan now has controlling interest?”

  Carl quickly shook his head. “Absolutely not. Tizzy and I have always had a good working relationship. As a matter of fact, now Marlene’s gone, I imagine Tizzy will take less interest in the everyday dealings of the bank. The main reason she took such an interest before was to keep Marlene in check.”

  Ridge paused from making notes on his pad and glanced up. “How would you describe your relationship with your wife?”

  “Marlene and I had a good relationship.” Carl chewed the inside of his jaw for a moment, then continued. “I wouldn’t describe our union as loving, but we were civil and respectful of each other most of the time. We had an understanding of what each of us expected from the other. I didn’t hate my wife, if that’s what you’re trying to determine. I had no reason to kill her. Regardless of her unpleasant attitude, she was the mother of my children and I would never take my children’s mother away from them.”

  Ridge made a notation, then flipped a few pages back in his notebook, strictly an investigative tactic to break the rhythm of questioning. Give the suspect time to think about his previous answers and worry about the next one. “Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt her or you?”

  Carl pulled his brows together, straightening in his chair. “I thought the motive was robbery. The jewelry she had missing was quite valuable. I didn’t think it had anything to do with her or me personally.”

  Ridge shuffled some papers on the desk. “I’m not ruling it out. I’m covering all angles. So, can you think of anyone?”

  “Marlene didn’t have a lot of friends, but I don’t know of anyone who disliked her to the point of murder.”

  Ridge focused on a piece of paper he’d pulled from the pile. “In your initial statement, you said you went to bed shortly after your wife’s call. Do you sleep so soundly you didn’t wake up during the night and realize she wasn’t in bed?”

  Carl showed no expression on his face, but he nervously tapped his foot and broke into a sweat. “Correct. I didn’t know until the next morning.”

  Ridge pushed back from the desk and stood up. “That’s all I have today, but I may have more questions for you later. If you should think of anything that would be helpful, please call.”

  Ridge rubbed the back of his neck and took a deep breath as Carl Weston left. The man was lying. He knew it. He felt it in his gut and his gut was never wrong. But, how the hell was he gonna prove it?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Rayann pulled on her slim fit, size four jeans, and easily zipped and buttoned them. Next, she slipped the Sweet Thangs tee-shirt over her seamless padded bra which added a full cup size to her small breasts. She smiled and thought of how Dwayne described them. Perfect . . . you’re perfect. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, gathered her long blonde hair into a ponytail and wrapped it with a rubber band.

  She leaned in close to the mirror, widened her big green eyes and studied her face. She was happier than she’d been in a long time. In the last ten years, she’d made some serious errors in judgment. First, labeling Dwayne as having no ambition, just because he didn’t want to do anything but live in Brownsboro and work for the police department. Second, getting a teaching degree. Last but not least, falling for a smooth-talking man who turned out to be evil personified.

  She picked up a hairbrush and drew the bristles through her ponytail, untangling the strands. Finally she’d realized her mistakes. Dwayne didn’t lack ambition. He was simply a man who knew what he wanted. Teaching would be the perfect job for her if not for the students. And lastly, good looks and sophistication meant nothing without a heart.

  As she left, she grabbed a bottle of fruit juice from the fridge, hiked her purse over her shoulder, and picked up her keys. By the time she got to her car, the humidity had plastered her tee-shirt tight against her. She opened the car door, slipped behind the wheel, and cranked the engine. Swinging out of the drive, she headed to Sweet Thangs knowing the ladies would be waiting for a full report.

  On her way in, she paused and read the funeral notice on the door, then twirled around and went in humming. “Good morning, ladies,” she sang out. “Oh, my Lord. What is that heavenly smell?”

  At the sound of her voice, Tizzy, Sugarpie, and Pattiecake stopped what they were doing and made a beeline out of the kitchen. They rushed around the counter to meet her, and Tizzy was the first to speak. “Sugarpie’s working on a new recipe. But never mind that. Were you humming?”

  “Oh Lord. She was humming, all right.” Pattiecake said, placing her hands on her hips. “Wouldn’t you say she was humming, Sugarpie?”

  “Uh-huh. She was humming for sure. Girl, girl, how was Bubba?”

  Tizzy giggled. “Apparently good enough to make her hum.”

  Rayann smiled and slanted her eyes. “I’m not sure I should talk about him.”

  All three ladies surrounded her and pushed her into a chair. “Oh no you don’t. You’re not gettin’ off easy,” Tizzy said. “We want every little detail. It’s taken you forever to make a move on that man, and we all have a vested interest. Without our encouragement and margaritas, you’d still be dying to get into his pants. So now that you have, we wanna know everything.” Tizzy tugged at her arm. “Spill, girl. On a scale of one to ten. Kissing?”

  Rayann smiled. “Nine.”

  “Foreplay?”

  “Eight. Needs a little work.”

  “The dirty deed?”

  Rayann covered her mouth with both hands, rolled her eyes, let her hands drop to her chest, and crossed them. “Oh . . . My . . . Lord! It was the best sex I’ve ever had that didn’t involve batteries.”

  They all broke into loud laughter, whooping, hollering, and jumping up and down. Once they were able to regain control, Sugarpie leaned down. “Well, sweetie, if there’s anything about him you need to change, now’s the time. Don’t wait. You’ve got to tell him what you like. We spend a third of our lives in bed, and if you’re in there with someone not doing everything the way you like, it’s gonna seem like a whole lot longer.”

  Pattiecake chimed in. “She’s right.” She cut her eyes over at Sugarpie. “Do you remember Hide‘n‘seek Wendell?”

  Sugarpie slapped her leg as she bent over with laughter. “Lor-dee! I haven’t thought of him in years. Whatever happened to him?”

  “I think he moved to the Houston area,” Pattiecake said.

  Rayann jerked her head back and forth between Sugarpie and Pattiecake. “Okay, you two. What’s the story with Wendell?”

  Pattiecake sat down and leaned in close. “When we were in high school, Shirley Jean Culpepper was dating Wendell Taylor. They’d been going together forever. Wendell broke up with her and told a few stories about their sex-capades. Shirley was so-o-o-o mad. She told us when they were “doing it” just as he would reach his moment of bliss, so to speak, he would scream Here I come, ready or not!”

  They all erupted into laug
hter again. “So we started calling him Hide n’ seek Wendell. We’re saying, if Bubba’s got any bad habits in bed, you need to nip ’em in the bud.”

  Rayann smiled and took her bottom lip between her teeth. “Well, he was a little quick to pull the trigger the first time, but as the night went on, he got that under control.” She leaned forward toward Tizzy. “I’m telling you, the man is unbelievable. What he lacks in social graces, he makes up for in the bedroom. He is so gentle, so sweet, so eager to please me . . . I honestly can’t get enough of him. Last night, I turned that man every way but loose. I’ll tell y’all a little secret. I’m gonna marry him.”

  Tizzy gasped. “You are?” Did you tell him you love him?”

  Sugarpie shook her head. “Oh no, girl. You didn’t use the L word your first time.”

  “Yes I did, and you know what? He loves me, too. So, I’ll give him a little time, but if he doesn’t propose, I’ll ask him. One way or the other, I’m gonna marry Dwayne Tatum. You’re right, Tizzy. Life’s too short.”

  Tizzy embraced her. “You two have loved each other for a long time, and I’m happy for you,” she said, unable to hide her envy.

  “Aww Tizzy, don’t be jealous. Do you know what your horoscope said today?”