Soul of a Killer, page 19
“Because you really think we can find out who did it?”
I thought about what he’d asked me. I wasn’t sure if we could. We had figured out the last murderer but not until it was almost too late for me. And like Chow had said, it wasn’t our job. And we could get in trouble doing it.
“If Pete didn’t do it,” I said, “and we agree on that, right?”
Again Koby didn’t even nod.
“If he didn’t do it, then she couldn’t have helped him. We’ll figure this out.”
“Okay,” he said. “I just need to get this done. Find out what happened.”
“We will get this done,” I said.
“Yep.” Koby drew in a deep breath and pushed it back out. “But how about we go see Mama Zola. We’ll wrap this bacon up and take it over to her.”
“I thought that was my bacon.”
“You said you didn’t want it.”
I had said that. Because I didn’t want him to use it as leverage against me to talk murder when we should be talking shop.
“Okay. We can go,” I said, reluctantly giving up ownership of the bacon. “But when we get there and until my seven-audience author event has ended, no more murder talk.”
* * *
* * *
“MAMA ZOLA, YOU have to tell us everything that happened the morning of the potluck. The day Austin James was killed. Every time Pete left you and where he went.”
Koby walked in the painted blue front door of the two-family house Mama Zola lived in, asking questions about the murder. Definitely not sticking to the plan. Although he’d said later, when I asked him what happened to that agreement, that he hadn’t actually agreed to it. “If you recall,” he had said, “I didn’t answer at all.”
And he hadn’t.
We soon learned Mama Zola didn’t want to talk about it either.
“What?” Mama Zola said. “You want to talk about that first thing in the morning?”
“I asked him not to,” I said.
“I brought bacon,” Koby said. He took the foil cover off the plate and stretched out his arms, offering her some as he’d done me.
“He tried to bribe me with bacon, too,” I said.
Mama Zola eyed me. “Did it work?”
“No,” I said. “Then he tried enlisting my help by guilting me into cooperating.”
“About what?” Mama Zola said.
And I paused, mouth open, about to speak, when I realized I didn’t want to be the one to tell her what Daniel Chow, the soon-to-be chief of police, had to say about her. I reached over, took a slice of bacon and stuffed it into my mouth.
“What’s going on?” Mama Zola eyed me suspiciously.
“We’re just trying to help Pete,” Koby said.
“I know,” Mama Zola said, “but you’ve never come asking me questions. And now you’re here at my house with bacon.” She tilted her head. “Why are you doing that now? Did something happen? Did someone say something?”
I hadn’t wanted to talk murder, but maybe it was a good thing Koby came to see Mama Zola. I would want to know if someone was looking at me sideways. Thinking I’d be capable of doing something so heinous. Even if it was just clearing the path for Pete, helping cover up something he’d thought of and executed all on his own, I think I would need to know that people, especially people like law enforcement, were talking about my involvement.
Only, like I said, I wouldn’t want to be the one to tell her. I took another piece of bacon from the plate.
“You remember Detective Chow?” Koby asked. He sat the plate down on the kitchen table and pulled out a seat.
“Of course I remember him,” Mama Zola said. She pulled out a chair next to Koby and sat down. “He arrested Reef’s killer. I went to court every time it was in session until they put that monster in jail. Chow was there, too.”
“Well, you know he’s running for police chief.”
“Not much of a race when there isn’t anyone running against you.” She got up from the chair and went over to the sink.
Koby nodded.
I was impressed. Mama Zola had just moved to Timber Lake and she was more current on happenings around here than I was. Until Pete had to go and talk to the police, I hadn’t ever paid much attention to the law in the place where I lived. I was civic minded and voted, but with this one being a special election and our business trying to grow some momentum, it had gone right over my head.
“We saw him, Detective Chow, at the Hemlock last night.”
“And?” Mama Zola turned to Koby and put her hands on her hips.
“He thinks that Acting Chief Ross thinks that you may have had a hand in helping Pete.”
“He thinks. That he thinks. That’s a whole lot of speculation to have and still get the story wrong.”
“I know it’s wrong, but Detective Chow says that Ross might be trying to make a name for himself before he has to leave the position.”
“By catching the wrong killer?”
“Why was Pete back outside and trying to go into a wrong door? The door by the office where Austin James was in?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you send him somewhere looking for something for you?”
“I may have.”
“Mama Zola.” Koby seemed exasperated.
“Pete didn’t kill that man,” Mama Zola said and turned back to the sink. Maybe she thought turning her back to Koby was going to stop him. But Koby wasn’t letting Mama Zola back out of answering his questions.
“How many times did he leave? How many times do you think he may have gone to do something for you?”
She turned around. “What difference does it make?”
“Because that’s exactly what the police are thinking. They think you sent him for something and that’s his alibi.”
“He doesn’t need an alibi.”
“You can’t be his alibi.” Koby’s voice was stern. “So you need to tell me what happened that day.”
“I can tell you this.” Mama Zola pointed a finger at Koby. “No child I helped raise is going to speak to me in that tone.”
Contrition washed over Koby’s face. He got up from the chair and walked over to her, taking her hands. “I just can’t lose another mother.” He let go of her hands and put his arms around her shoulders. “I don’t want to lose another mother.”
“They won’t put me in jail.” Mama Zola hugged him and patted him on the back. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“Innocent people spend years in prison, Mama Zola. Some get executed even before the truth comes out.”
“You think that’s what’s going to happen to me and Pete?”
“No.” Koby shook his head. “I wouldn’t let that happen to you. But you have to help me.” He hugged her tight. “You have to tell me what happened.”
“Don’t you worry none about it,” Mama Zola said. She unwrapped herself from him and put her hands on his cheeks. “That man has nothing on me or Pete. And when I see him again, I’m going to tell him what I think of his shoddy police work. Talking about a dog barking up the wrong tree.” She shook her head. “That man isn’t even in the right part of the woods.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
WE MADE IT to the shop late. At least, late for Koby, because he needed to bake and do prep. I again had to help him because before we left Mama Zola’s, she informed us that she’d be late herself.
No biscuits, though. I made sure that wasn’t on my list of tasks. And thank goodness Mama Zola made it in plenty of time to finish up. Even Georgie got there earlier than usual.
I excused myself and went over to the Books side. I figured I could get a little work done on the ledgers. Check some inventory and check emails. I also wanted to scour the Internet for other shops that offered online purchasing of used books. I didn’t need to reinvent to wheel to set up our e-commerce site. I could get ideas from other bookshops. I’d already given Kevin, our newly hired webmaster, the go-ahead to start after Koby and I had our last board meeting.
And before I could get behind the desk, I noticed Pete already in the store working.
“Morning,” I said. “What are you doing here so early?”
He hadn’t moved in with Mama Zola yet. His room was there waiting, but he told her he needed to take care of something else first. She’d seemed so disappointed the day she told us.
Not so homeless, I guess, because Mama Zola said he was still sleeping in the storage room in the back of our store. Only he hadn’t been there when we’d gotten in.
“Working,” he said. He’d taken books off one of the smaller bookcases and was dusting.
Pete wasn’t much for words, and I wondered if he’d always been like that now that I knew all the things he’d been through.
“You know we have an author event tomorrow.”
“I know,” he said.
“And did you know it’s only seven people who’ve RSVP’d?”
“Seven is a good number. It’s the number of completeness.”
“Not such a good number when you have an author who wants to sell books.”
He didn’t have anything to say to that so I went over to the counter to do some busywork.
And that was the way our morning went. Smells from the Biscuits side made me wish I’d eaten more of that bacon.
Customers wandered in, not so many buying books, some drawn to the other side to find out what smelled so good, others back out of the door, but I greeted each one with the same smile. Luckily, we were getting more sales in books each week we’d been open, and I could only hope a larger online presence would bring in more revenue and that definitely made me happy.
But I lost the smile and the favorable disposition when Acting Chief Franklin Ross walked in the door.
“Keaton,” he said with a familiarity that was disturbing. It felt as if he thought he had some authority over me.
He came in on a mission, his jaw set in determination. There hadn’t even been time to warn Pete, as I was sure he didn’t want to confront the man who’d practically arrested him. I turned to see Pete’s reaction but he wasn’t there. I looked around. He wasn’t anywhere.
Good for Pete.
“How may I help you?” I turned back to the intruder.
“One way you can help is to stay out of my investigation.” He had an attitude walking in the door. I didn’t know what he wanted, but I was thinking it wasn’t to buy a book. Or a biscuit.
I scratched the side of my forehead. I had to try and not let Acting Chief Ross upset me. But I had a feeling that it wouldn’t be too long before Koby would make an entrance and I wouldn’t have to tolerate him all alone.
“I am not involved in your investigation,” I said, scraping up more bravado than I thought I could. “Other than the concern I have for my employee.”
That was true. I didn’t think his investigation had taken the same turns ours had because he seemed to be concentrating on one person. At least we were looking at different people. Different angles. Although I think that his investigation and ours were both focusing on the same motive—revenge.
“We sell books and food here.” It was Koby. He’d come over and was standing in the archway. “Unless you want to buy either one of those, you are loitering.”
“I’m here on official business,” Ross said, even though he hadn’t moved from the door.
“And what would that be?” Koby asked. He walked farther into the bookstore.
“Zola Jackson,” Ross said. I think he knew he’d get a reaction with that, because he paused before he said anything else. “I need to talk to her.”
“About what?” Koby said. He’d moved all the way into the room and was no more than ten feet from Ross. This confrontation made me nervous.
“Is she here?” Ross asked, ignoring Koby’s question.
“She is, but her lawyer is not,” Koby said. “Unless you have a warrant?” My brother posed the last part as a question, but I knew it was a statement for him. He seemed to know enough about the law.
“How about if we let her tell me that.”
“How about if we don’t.”
“I can speak for myself.” Mama Zola came and stood in the archway. “I came to see what all the commotion was about, and Lordy, it’s about me.”
“Mama Zola, you shouldn’t say anything to him without a lawyer.”
“I don’t need a lawyer,” she said. “Because like Mr. Pete Howers, I haven’t done anything wrong.” She pursed her lips. “And if you were any kind of detective, you would know that.”
“Did you help him cover up the murder of Austin James?” Ross asked.
“No. I did not. Why would I?”
“It seems that you didn’t like the things that Mr. James was doing at your church and Mr. Howers didn’t like the things he’d done to him previously.”
“Who told you that?” Mama Zola asked.
“Is it true?” Ross asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mama Zola looked at Koby. Koby, knowing full well what the law officer was alluding to, at least in Pete’s case, hunched his shoulders as if he had no idea.
“You and Mr. Howers cooked up a scheme to get rid of Mr. James at the potluck, making what happened premeditated murder.”
“The only thing we cooked up was peach cobbler.” She scrunched up her face. “And God is teaching me a lesson with it about my vanity.” She shook her head. I lifted my eyebrows. She’d made a fuss about the cobbler, but I wasn’t sure it amounted to vanity or the wrath of God’s ire. “But someone is going to get away with, as you say, premeditated murder, if you don’t start looking at the right people.”
“And who do you think that is?” Ross asked.
“I hate to say it, but the church members.”
“Aren’t you a church member?”
“I’m not one of the church members who had their life savings stolen by Austin James.” She pointed her finger at him. “I didn’t even know him until the day he died. But you best believe, there were members of that church who had it out for him. Knew he was coming there and where he’d be. That wouldn’t be me or Pete.”
“Pete was seen trying to get back in the building through the door closest to where we found Mr. James.”
“He’d gone out to throw something in the dumpster for me,” Mama Zola said. Making it look like she was supplying Pete with an alibi. But it was what I saw that upset me. There was a mix of guilt and remorse that crawled across her face with her words.
Koby must have noticed it, too. “What is it, Mama Zola?”
She shook her head in disgust. “I dropped a pan of cobbler.” She paused and let out a groan. “I didn’t want anyone to see my cobbler in the trash, so I had Pete take it out to the dumpster.” Her voice cracked. “That’s the only reason he was out there.” She looked at Ross. “Not because he was killing anyone.” She wanted to make that clear. “And then,” she continued, “he couldn’t get back in the same door. It locked behind him.”
“Is that what he told you?” Chief Ross asked.
“Yes. And I know that’s what happened. I know he didn’t kill anyone. And if you had any sense, you’d know it, too.”
Koby walked to Mama Zola and placed a hand on her arm. I know he wanted her to be nice.
I interjected. I wanted Ross to know that what Mama Zola was saying about the door was true. “Pete had to use that door, the one with the video camera, because there was a sign on the other door that said to use it,” I said. “Didn’t you know that?”
“A sign?”
“Yes,” Koby said. “With instructions.”
Ross paused for a moment as if he were taking in all the information we had supplied. “How do you know that?” he asked, looking at each of us in turn.
“Katy Erickson,” I said, speaking up before Mama Zola could. I could tell she was ready to say something else. “We know about the sign because of her. She was the woman in the hat on the video.”
“I know who she is,” he said.
“The reporter?” I said, testing to see if I could get some truthful information on her.
“Reporter?” He posed the question back to me with a furrowed brow. I think my research had put me on the right track about her.
“Never mind,” I said. “But anyway, you should know about the sign.”
He noisily took in a breath. “Why were you questioning her?” He looked from me to Koby, but it was Mama Zola who answered.
“Because it seems you don’t know the right questions to ask to anyone.” She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side. “No wonder Timber Lake is electing a new chief of police. The acting one doesn’t even know how to act!”
Chapter Thirty
RAY’S HOUSE WAS a ranch-style, L-shaped house. Nothing like most of the houses in Timber Lake. They were like storybook houses, as my father—adopted father—liked to say. Cottages painted in pretty colors with window pots overflowing with flowers and blooming trees out front.
It was Monday afternoon. Koby and I had taken lunch together, found out the address we needed from Mama Zola and driven over to the west side of Timber Lake. We were going to talk to Ray Patton. And on the way over, Koby noticed a car following us, or so he thought.
“It’s a white SUV,” he said.
“A Range Rover?” I asked and turned around to look.
“Yep. How did you know?” He glanced at me.
“It’s Katy.”
“The reporter from church?”
“She’s not a reporter,” I said. “I Googled her.” And then I told him what I had found out. He shook his head in disbelief throughout the whole conversation.
“So we should cross her off our list,” I said.
