Ca$h Call, page 16
"I thought you weren’t going to count on it?"
"Well, you got my hopes up. You sounded so sure about this."
It would have been a good time to tell her about the Peruvian pottery and the diamonds Melanie had found, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Another disappointment would be unbearable.
"I know. I’m sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut about it. It just looked so promising, and it might still work out."
"No it won’t. It's just our luck," Rebekah said as she began crying. "It’s just my luck. I’ve always been unlucky. Just when I see the light at the end of the tunnel, there's a damn earthquake and I get buried alive! There is a dark cloud hanging over me. There always has been."
I grabbed Rebekah by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "Hey, we've survived, right? It hasn’t been so bad. We have wonderful children who never give us any kind of trouble. We live in one of the nicest communities in the world, everybody's healthy and we have each other. So I don't think we should be feeling sorry for ourselves."
Rebekah stared at me for a moment and then wiped the tears from her eyes. "You have such a knack for putting things in perspective, don't you?"
"I'm an attorney. I have to keep things in perspective or I would go crazy."
"Hmm," Rebekah said, giving me a wry smile. "A girl can't even feel sorry for herself around you. You're no fun."
"If you want to have some fun, I've got some ideas."
"Yeah, I bet you do. You think sex is the solution to all our problems."
"Isn’t it?" I said with a smile.
"We've got kids running around the house, in case you didn’t notice."
"Isn't it their bedtime?'
Rebekah looked at her watch. "It's only eight o'clock. Sorry."
I shrugged. "The kids are busy upstairs."
"What if they come down?"
"Just don't moan too loud, and they'll never know what we're doing."
Rebekah laughed and smiled at me. "Okay, wise guy. Let’s do it." She unbuttoned the back of her dress, shook her head, then gave her shoulders a little twist. The dress fell to the floor leaving her standing in her bra and panties. I went to her and we began kissing excitedly. Just then Reggi walked in the kitchen.
"Mom and Dad! Gee whiz. What are you doing?"
"Ooops!" Rebekah laughed. "Dad and I are just—"
"Messing around," I said. "Get the hell out of here, and leave us alone!"
Reggi covered his eyes and turned away. "Okay," he said and quickly left the room.
"I think we better take this to the bedroom," I said.
Rebekah nodded and we walked quickly down the hall, went into our room and shut the door. We looked at each other and suddenly burst out laughing.
"Did you see Reggi’s face? Rebekah said hardly able to contain herself.
"Yes, the poor kid. We shocked the hell out of him."
Rebekah took a deep breath. "Oh God. I really needed a good laugh."
"Me too."
She looked into my eyes and smiled tenderly. "I love you, Stan Turner."
The next day Detective Besch arrived at my office at nine sharp. Jodie showed him into the conference room overlooking Central Expressway where we were waiting for him. It was a clear day and bright sunlight flooded the room. Jodie went over to the windows and drew the blinds.
"Would you like some coffee or a cold drink?" she asked.
"A cold drink would hit the spot," he replied.
Jodie nodded and left the room. I introduced Detective Besch to Don and Pam. Everyone took a seat and waited in awkward silence. After Jodie returned with the drinks the interrogation began.
"All right, my clients have agreed to talk with you," I said to Besch. "However, Mrs. Blaylock has not been well, so if we could make this as brief as possible we would appreciate it," I said.
"Sure, I'm sorry folks. I hate to have to bother you, but I've got my job to do. I'm sure you understand."
"Yes, how can we help you?" Don asked.
"Well, to expedite things, let me tell you that I'm familiar with your restaurant venture and how Luther Bell ran the place into the ground. Margie Mason has confirmed that Luther set Mrs. Blaylock up to write the hot checks for which she was arrested. I guess what I want to explore is where everyone was on Wednesday night, the night of the murder. Obviously, all of the partners are suspects simply because of the strong motive each had to kill Mr. Bell. We're not accusing you of anything, but somebody did beat him to death."
"We understand," I said. "You've got your investigation to do and we want to cooperate as much as possible. My clients are innocent and they have nothing to hide."
"Good, then Mr. Blaylock, let's start with your whereabouts the night of the murder."
"That's simple. We were at home watching TV."
"Is that right? Didn’t you go over to Jim Cochran’s house that night?"
"Yes, and I came back about seven-thirty. Jim just lives up the street. Pam was in her room the entire night. I watched TV after I came home."
"What did you watch?"
Don thought a moment. "Knight Rider or maybe Magnum P.I., I don’t remember. We weren't in a really good mood since we had been locked out of the restaurant that day."
"Did anyone come over?"
"No."
"Did anyone call?"
"Pam's mother called to see how Pam was holding up. Pam talked to her for awhile."
"What time was this?"
"About nine, I think."
"Mrs. Blaylock, did you stay in your room the whole evening?"
"Yes."
"Do you know what Jim and his wife did after the meeting?"
"No," Don replied. "They were at their house when I left."
"Did they say they were going out?"
"No."
"What about your son Rob?"
"He's not a partner," Don said.
"I know, but he probably wasn't too happy about the way Luther treated his mother."
"He was out running around with his girlfriend. They came and went a couple times during the evening."
"Do you know where they were?"
"I think they went to dinner and then to the library."
"So, that's all you can tell me about everybody's whereabouts on the night of the murder?"
"Yes, sir," Don said.
"Well, frankly that wasn’t much help. None of you appear to have anything close to an alibi so that’s going to make my job tough. I’m going to have to take each of your lives apart until I find the murderer.
I frowned. "I’ll discuss it some more with them. Maybe we can come up with something to nail down their alibis a little better. I’ll let you know."
"Okay, I’ll need both of you to come over to the station to give us fingerprints and hair samples. Will you allow me to search your house, or do I need to get a warrant?"
Don looked at me. He seemed alarmed. "Is that really necessary?" he asked.
"Yes," Detective Besch said. "Since you have no alibi, I’ve got to search for evidence."
He shrugged. "Go ahead. You won’t find anything."
"Thank you. I appreciate your cooperation."
"Why the hair samples?" I asked.
"Several different types of hair were found in the front seat of the Cadillac and in the pool of blood from Luther’s head."
Detective Besch stood up. "I guess that will do it for now. Oh, . . . There is one more thing. I'm going to need to talk to Rob and Greg. Do you know how I can reach them?"
"What? Can’t you leave them out of this? They had nothing to do with any of this," Don replied.
"Rob is my client too," I said. "If you'd like to meet with him I can arrange that for you. I guess he can bring along his brother too, if it’s really necessary."
"This is a murder investigation," Besch noted. "Of course it’s necessary. How about tomorrow about this time?"
"They go to school. Could they do it later in the day, like say . . . four o'clock?" Don said.
"That'll be fine. I'll be here at four," Detective Besch replied, and then left.
Don and Pam stayed awhile to discuss ways to prove they were home on the night of the murder. I suggested they get a detailed phone record from Southwestern Bell showing calls, both in and out. We knew there had been at least one telephone call from Pam’s mother. That would add credence to Pam’s claim that she was home in her bedroom. I was hopeful an inspection of the phone bill might indicate that someone else had called that night—someone Don and Pam had forgotten about.
After the Blaylocks had left, I went back into my office and looked around, wondering what I should do next. It occurred to me I needed to talk to Jim Cochran or someone who knew him well. He was an unknown to me. I was pretty certain that neither Don or Pam were killers. Cochran, on the other hand, did have a bad temper. Even after meeting him just one time I got the feeling he didn’t let people push him around. In order to understand him better I decided to talk to his wife, Wanda. She hadn’t been at the meeting, so that gave me the reason I needed to go visit her the next morning.
Wanda got up and took a coffee cake out of the oven. It was nine-thirty and she graciously offered me a piece. Having skipped breakfast, I accepted.
"Hmm. This is good," I said. "Rebekah had to take the kids to school early today so she didn’t have time to make breakfast."
"Well this was good timing then."
"You bet."
"So, what can I do for you, Mr. Turner?"
"Oh, you can call me Stan."
"Okay, Stan. Jim said you wanted to talk about Luther Bell."
"Yes, I need to get your perspective on what happened the day of the partnership meeting. I’m expecting the police to try to pin the murder on one of the partners—you know, since you all had good reasons to kill Luther."
"Pam especially—after he got her arrested and all. I'd have probably been in the funny farm by now, had it been me."
"Yes, that was pretty traumatic."
"Which one of us do you think the police will try to pin it on?"
Wanda gave me a half smile and then looked down at the floor. I felt her discomfort. "I don’t know. What do you think?"
"There’s probably nothing to worry about," Wanda said, "but . . . well, after the partner’s meeting Don went out.
"Oh really? Where did he go?"
"I told him to stay home, but he was very upset and said he needed to get out and get some fresh air. I begged him to stay home, because he has kind of a hot temper, you know?"
"Right, I heard that.."
"Well, he wouldn't listen to me. He left about eight o'clock and didn't come home until after midnight."
"Do you have any reason to think—?"
Wanda’s voice began to crack, "I can't imagine him killing someone. I don't think he would have done it."
As tears flooded from Wanda's eyes, I wondered if she knew more than what she was telling me.
"I'm sure he didn't kill Luther, Wanda. Did you ask him where he went?"
"Yes, he said he just drove around. I asked him if he drove by Luther's place, and he didn't answer me. He just changed the subject."
"Really," I said. "Did you look at his clothes? Was there any blood or anything?"
"Yes, after he left for work the next day I checked his shirt and his suit. There was no blood but they smelled of smoke and there was a faint odor of perfume."
"Perfume?"
"Cheap perfume."
"Was he drunk when he came home?" I asked.
"No, but I could tell he had been drinking. His breath smelled of liquor."
"Does he go out by himself at night very often?"
"Sometimes. But I'm not worried about him being faithful. We've been married twenty years, and he's never given me reason not to trust him. I'm just worried that he might have killed Luther. He was so upset when he left."
"Well, don’t jump to conclusions. It’s not likely he did it. Let’s assume he didn’t do it."
Wanda blew her nose. "Okay."
"Who else are you worried might have done it?"
This was a cruel question to ask of Wanda. She certainly wouldn’t want to point the finger at any of her friends, but I believe in women’s intuition, and I wanted to know what Wanda thought.
"You know, I'm kind of worried about Rob."
"Rob? Why?"
"Pam said he was out running around Wednesday night too. He was very upset about what Luther had done to his mother. He told Don he was going to ‘beat the crap out of him.’"
"Hmm."
"Do you think this mess will ever be over?" Wanda asked.
"Not any time soon, I’m afraid."
"If Jim did kill Luther, being in prison would drive him crazy. I know him. He couldn't stand the confinement. He'd probably lose his temper and kill a guard or another inmate—if he didn’t get killed himself."
"Don't even think like that. I’m sure everything will work out okay in the end."
"I wish I could convince myself of that."
"I should be going," I said. "I appreciate you talking with me."
Wanda pushed her chair out and stood up. I got up and followed her as she slowly made her way to the door. Although I didn’t acknowledge it to her, I shared her fear about Jim. After his little confrontation with Margie Mason and with no alibi, he was sure to be the DA’s number one suspect.
"If the police stop by, don’t talk to them," I cautioned her. "Call me, okay?"
"I will."
"Thanks for the coffee cake. It was delicious."
"You’re welcome."
She forced a smile as I gave her one last glance. When I got to my office Jodie reminded me I had a full slate of appointments all day culminating with Detective Besch’s interview of Rob and Greg at four.
At three forty-five, Rob Blaylock arrived. Jodie escorted him immediately into the conference room. I needed to get his version of what had happened on the night of Luther’s death. We had to make a decision whether to tell Detective Besch the truth or abort the interview and tell him nothing.
"Hi, Rob. How have you been?"
"Okay."
"We don’t have much time, so let's get down to business."
"Yes, sir."
"Jennifer told me what happened the night of the murder but I need hear it from you."
Rob related his version of the discovery of Luther’s body. His story closely matched Jennifer’s rendition. After discussing the options with Rob, we decided to tell Detective Besch what happened as he was bound to find out anyway.
When Detective Besch arrived, I let him speak with Greg first. I knew Greg wasn’t involved and knew little about what was going on. When he was finished with Greg I told Greg to wait in the reception area and he left. Then Rob came in and told Detective Besch about discovering the body.
Besch said, "I’m glad you told me about this. At least for now I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Your story is a little hard to believe, though."
"It’s the truth," Rob said.
"What time was it when you found Luther?" Detective Besch asked.
"A little after ten."
"Did you see anybody when you pulled up into the driveway?"
"No. Jennifer and I were arguing so I wasn’t paying a lot of attention."
"Was the light on in the garage?"
"No, it was dark. As we drove into the driveway, we realized the garage door was up. We didn’t see Luther’s body until we were almost on top of it."
"Did you touch anything?"
"No, we just got the hell out of there."
"Why didn’t you call the police?"
"We were scared. If they knew we had been at the scene of the crime, they might accuse us of the murder."
"Okay. . . .One last question. Had Luther still been alive, would you have killed him?"
Rob gave the detective a hard stare and then replied, "I don’t know."
Detective Besch smiled. "Well, maybe you are telling me the truth. I certainly hope so, for your sake."
Later that night I discussed my progress on the investigation with Rebekah.
