Dumpster Dicing (Bunco Biddies Book 1) Page 7

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing Janie. Just relieving the tension, I guess. Whatcha got for me?”

  Betsy Ann and the mousy woman, introduced as Babs, began to chatter all at once about the Get ’em and Go clerk, the man with the scar, and Mr. Newman’s reaction. Blake swiveled his head between them as if following a tennis match as he tried to absorb their information. When the last wrinkled mouth closed, he motioned to his men. “Connor, go ask the manager for the surveillance tapes for Monday the fifteenth around the time of the sighting. Also, get the ones for Saturday around two to four. Phil, take this photocopy back to the clerk and get his written statement.”

  Ethel snapped her fingers. “Why didn’t we think of that?”

  Mildred gave her a small pat on the shoulder. “You can’t think of everything, sweetie.”

  Blake bit his tongue and focused on Janie’s face. “It’s almost four. Will you introduce me?” He elevated his chin and motioned with a wave to a uniformed officer who slid through the door. “I invited Lieutenant William Everett to go over the details for organizing a neighborhood watch. He will go over the rules and procedures.”

  Janie bounced her chin up and down, first to her cronies and next toward him. “Oh, good. Good.”

  Blake caught his wife’s wink. He returned the gesture. For a halted split-second in time, their eyes locked and the years of mutual love signaled a desire to make tonight a late night. How long since that happened? Not since his partner went on medical leave. Where had his head been? She still outmatched any woman on the block in the looks department, not to mention her ability to melt his heart with one soft touch.

  He broke the stare with a quick, apologetic grin. Melody returned the facial gesture as she moved to one of the side chairs and sat, her purse perched in her lap. The Bunco biddies followed suit.

  Janie tapped a spoon against her glass of artificially sweetened iced tea. The murmuring didn’t subside. She clunked it again. The chattering continued.

  Then a shrill whistle blasted throughout the room.

  Blake jumped and turned to view Ethel’s fingers jammed in her mouth. Did that ear-piercing screech come from her?

  She flashed him a wide grin. “Used to volunteer at the Y’s after-school program. Only way to get the kiddos’ attention.”

  Blake made an “O” with his mouth. He shook his head and leaned into the officer’s car. “These women do beat all.”

  Lieutenant Everett’s shoulders jiggled as he stifled a laugh.

  Janie cleared her throat. “You all know why we’re gathered here. This is my son-in-law, Blake Johnson, Chief Detective of the Alamoville police. My dear, late husband, as many of you recall, was a renowned detective in Austin PD for years, and Blake is almost as good. So that’s saying a lot.”

  What? Blake swept his gaze to catch Janie’s facial expression, and in his peripheral vision he spied his wife place a hand over her mouth. His mother-in-law continued without missing a beat. “He is in charge of the investigation into the demise of one Edwin Lewis Newman, if it was his real name...”

  Blake stood. “I’ll take over from here, Janie. Thank you.” He placed both hands upon her elderly shoulders and pushed her downward to her chair with care. “This is Lieutenant Everett, who’s organized at least eleven neighborhood watches in Alamoville in the past three years. In a few minutes, I’ll hand the floor to him to explain what steps need to be taken to get one going here. Even though this is a gated community, establishing one would be prudent and wise.”

  Many white-haired heads bounced up and down in affirmative response.

  “But first, I want to update you as best I can as to our progress in this investigation. Most importantly, we believe Mr. Newman’s death is an isolated incident by a person or persons unknown.”

  One man raised his cane. “Well, you better get cracking, sonny, and find out.”

  Blake swallowed what he wanted to say in response and continued. “We are checking into his background history to determine if anything might lead to the reason for his violent end.” He paused, cleared his throat, and swallowed a long swig of iced water. “We do not, I repeat, do not believe the perpetrator is still in this village or that any of you are in danger at this point. However, patrol vehicles are assigned to monitor this community and cruise through your streets. This is for your peace of mind as requested by your manager, Mrs. Jacobs. We are more than happy to oblige.”

  Mumbles waved throughout the crowd.

  Blake spoke louder. “Now, while I cannot go into detail, I can relay a few facts gathered so far. The coroner examined the body—that is the parts found in the dumpster. The forensic team has ruled a gunshot to the back of the skull as the cause of death.”

  Gasps echoed throughout the hall. Janie leaned toward Ethel and Betsy Ann’s faces and dropped her voice. “Well, well. The Willises didn’t hear a car backfiring after all.”

  Blake spun to her with his brow furrowed. “You didn’t tell me about that.”

  Jamie glared at him over her glass of tea hovered near her mouth. “You didn’t let me.”

  Blake reached for his cell phone. “Phil, get back in here as soon as you can. Tell Connor to do the same.”

  He faced the crowd. “I want everyone here who thinks they may have any information pertaining to this case to step forward and write down your name and phone number.” He opened his notebook and set it on the table in front of him. “Be prepared to give statements.”

  Janie tugged his sleeve. “Blake, tonight is buffet night, so the crowds usually spill over into the lounge for Wheel of Fortune while waiting for the lines to open.”

  He spoke close to her ear. “Where can we set up, then?”

  Betsy Ann tapped his other shoulder. “How about the rec room down the hall where they show movies on Friday nights?”

  Janie nodded. “Perfect, and we can ask them to sign up for further information about the watch as well. Okay?”

  Everett gave her a smile. “Works for me. But first, let me explain the process, if there is time.”

  Janie gave him a slight bow. “You have the floor. We have forty minutes until dinner. Meanwhile, my son-in-law wishes to talk with me in a more private capacity.” Her eyes focused on Blake’s face. “At last.”

  She jutted her chin and rose from her seat, with Betsy Ann, Babs, Ethel, and Mildred traipsing behind like cows following the lead one with the bell to the trough.

  Blake shook his head. Better to keep that image to himself.

  * * *

  Over the next hour and a half, only a few brave souls stepped forward to sign up for the neighborhood watch training. To his dismay, even fewer reported anything worthwhile. Most came for the show, so to speak. From what his team gleaned, a strange noise possibly woke a neighbor who lived behind Newman, but her weak bladder often nudged her eyes open, so she couldn’t say for sure. Marge and Ralph Walters recalled, as they rounded the corner after a day visiting the grandkids, that their headlights illuminated a large man wearing dark-colored clothes in the dusk of Monday evening. He possibly got into a black van parked in the alley by Newman’s home. Then again, the vehicle might have been one of those brown parcel delivery trucks.

  “Wait. You said the alley?”

  “Oh, yes,” Marge and her husband replied together.

  She went on to explain. “Many of the delivery drivers come around back to the kitchen door. The door knocker’s louder so we residents can hear it from the bedrooms.”

  Blake cocked an eyebrow at his underling who jotted the responses onto the report. “Well, I guess it makes sense.”

  The couple shuffled out, murmuring to each other.

  Blake stretched and turned his gaze to Janie who toggled a pen back and forth. “Well, worth a try.”

  She humphed. “I figured somebody spotted something. You can’t just shoot and then cut up a person without making noise.”

  “You’d be surprised. Often we find neighbors of little help. A too lo
ud TV show drowns out the ruckus, or they took a sleeping pill, or weren’t home at the time.” He lifted himself from the chair and pushed his hands to his lower back. “Nowadays, everyone keeps to themselves.”

  “True enough. Plus, half of these folks are hard of hearing. I’m getting there, I know. Not putting it off because of vanity. It’s the expense. If only hearing aids weren’t so ghastly expensive. Why Medicare doesn’t pay for them...” She shook the rabbit trail thought away. “What do we do now?”

  “You go home. I will assimilate this with the other evidence we gathered.”

  Her eyes widened. “Such as...?”

  His eyebrows scrunched in sternness, but a smile etched the edge of his mouth. “Now, Janie...”

  She swatted his comment away like a horse’s tail shooing a pesky fly.

  He took her spindly hands in his and bent to her seated level. “Why are you so gung-ho to get involved? I always thought you to be a sensible woman.”

  Janie dashed her eyes to her lap. “Perhaps because this happened in my own backyard, so to speak. Plus, I am the one who discovered the body, after all. Well”—she sighed and lifted her gaze—“parts of him, that is.”

  His face softened. “I’m sorry I came on so strong. But the Mayor’s boot is on my neck.”

  “Blake. This is not new to me, you know. Remember who your wife’s daddy was.”

  “Mel tells me your husband often discussed his homicide cases confidentially with you. Is that true?”

  A glint of pride lit in her eyes. “Yes, whenever he became stumped. Using me as a sounding board gave him clarity. I often visualized an angle he didn’t.”

  Blake stroked her cheek. “You are an amazing lady. And you raised an equally amazing daughter.”

  Janie stuck her finger towards his face. “Who, lately, you can’t find the time to be with, or the kids.”

  He sat back down next to her. “Ah. So now we get to the core of the matter. You think if you help me solve this case I can ease up a bit, eh?”

  She fiddled with the pen again. “The thought did cross my mind.”

  “That borders on meddlin’.”

  “Well, I do possess some expertise, and Betsy Ann worked as a reporter. Ethel is a murder mystery aficionado par excellence. She still offers a keen viewpoint.”

  Blake chuckled. “Janie, even if you did crack this wide open, I guarantee next week a new case will pop up, then another. Alamoville is booming, which unfortunately means crime is on the rise.” He shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it. But, Bob should be back on the beat by June.”

  “That’s good news, isn’t it?”

  “Yep. I plan to take at least a week’s vacation and go to the coast with the family. I booked a cottage rental on South Padre Island.”

  Janie’s face lightened. “Oh, how wonderful. Did you tell Melody?”

  A chuckle gurgled in his throat. “She bought a brand new bathing suit two weeks ago.” His eyebrow wiggled. “Even modeled it for me.”

  A rose tint flushed his mother-in-law’s crinkly cheeks, which made him laugh. Then he cleared his throat and attempted to knit his brow in a serious, professional manner. “Now, I want you to back away and let me do my job. However, if you happen to come across anything important, you tell me. Got it?”

  She fluttered her eyelashes. “Of course, Blake. Happy to do so.”

  He caught a suspicious gleam in her pupils as he raised up to leave. What swirled in her head now?

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next morning Janie heard a titty-tat-tat on her door. Ethel and Betsy Ann stood in their Sunday bests. “Ready for services?”

  Janie peered into the hallway mirror, ran a finger over her lips to erase any smudges from the coffee cup, and lifted her purse from the peg. “Yep. Let’s go.”

  They scooted into her sedan and buckled up. As Jane started the engine and adjusted the air conditioning, Ethel groaned. “Well, are you going to tell us what happened or not?”

  Janie gazed at her passengers. Betsy Ann tilted her head in the back seat. “Yes. What did Blake say?”

  “Not much to tell. No one came forth with a breaking testimony. Marge thought they recalled a delivery van in the alley near the Newman home Monday evening.”

  “Well, that may be worth looking into. I don’t remember Mildred saying anything about receiving a package.”

  “True.” Janie twisted to peer for any oncoming traffic before turning right. “When we return from church, we can ask her to knock on a few doors. Claim she’s been waiting for a parcel and thought they possibly delivered to the wrong place.”

  Betsy Ann clucked her teeth. “You’d be asking her to tell a falsehood. And on the Sabbath.”

  Janie’s chest heaved. “Yes, of course. You’re right.”

  While the traffic light glowed red, she punched in a search for the parcel company, tapped the number, and put the cell phone to her ear. “Yes, I am hoping you can help me. Were any deliveries dispatched to Sunset Acres, specifically Solar Boulevard, last Monday?”

  Silence.

  Ethel punched her shoulder to tell her the light switched to green.

  Janie glanced at her with a quick nod, and pushed the accelerator a split-second before the person behind them honked.

  “Why? Oh a neighbor of mine may have been expecting a package but she is rather hard of hearing, you see. Yes, Sunset Acres, the retirement village... Oh, will you? That would be so kind.”

  Betsy Ann humphed and crossed her arms as she turned to view out the side window.

  “Oh, okay. Well, thank you for checking.” She clicked off the phone and accelerated up the ramp to the highway. Her eyes fixed on the rear view mirror she announced. “I didn’t lie, Betsy Ann.”

  “I guess not. But you fudged, and in the eyes of the Lord...”

  Ethel cut her off. “So no deliveries, huh?”

  “One earlier in the day, but to the leasing office. Another to one of the condos on Sunray Terrace, which is three blocks away. A third on the same route went to the assisted living center, and the last to the Butterfields, but Babs doesn’t live anywhere near Mildred.”

  Betsy Ann scooted forward. “Wow. Isn’t that a lot for one day?”

  “Evidently they deliver from the cable shopping channel all the time. You know? The one with all the bargains?”

  Ethel agreed. “Hmm, yes. My sister tunes in all the time. Quite addictive. One month, she couldn’t pay the rent because she bought so many Christmas presents.”

  “Well, it happens.”

  Ethel scoffed. “In February?”

  Janie tapped the steering wheel with her hand. Her eyes narrowed. “So a van would be rather inconspicuous, right? No one would think the wiser. Marge didn’t. Perhaps they cut up Edwin Newman in the back while cruising through the community and dumped him on the way out.”

  “Ewww.” Betsy Ann shivered.

  Ethel moved her shoulders up and down. “Makes perfect sense. Are you going to report it to Blake?”

  Janie shook her head. “Not yet.” She pressed her lips as they pulled into the parking lot to join the other worshipers. “Time for church.”

  * * *

  Later in the afternoon, Janie leaned across her dining room table eyeing the makeshift map of Sunset Acres sprawled over the top. She put an “X” on the now-empty garden home. Next, she wrote in all the names of the people she recalled who lived within a three block radius. The area resembled a smile with several teeth missing.

  She frowned. Once upon a time, she knew all of her neighbors. But, over the past two years, several passed on or moved into the assisted living or advanced nursing facilities. A conviction splashed her like a cold shower blast when the toilet is flushed. She didn’t visit any of them who had moved to the facilities nearly enough. Perhaps because the idea of her ending up there as well gave her the willies.

  Janie clucked her tongue and hung her head. “I’m sorry, Lord. I’ve been too caught up in my own little world and my selfish a
ttitude. Well, that will change now.”

  On a separate sheet of paper, she scribbled their names and vowed to call on each one over the next week or so. In fact, she would organize a monthly schedule. That way, she would force herself—no that was the wrong attitude—encourage herself to spend time with them on a regular basis. Pay it forward so when her time came…

  Erase that scary thought. Back to the business at hand. In smaller letters, she jotted down what each of her neighbors witnessed, heard, or suspected was something out of the ordinary. The delivery van with a large man driving, the car backfiring. The whack to Poopsy’s nose. How Edwin had been so rude to people. The trash, especially the beer cans.

  A tingle iced up her arms. She picked up her cat and spoke to it as if the animal could understand every word. “Wait. How did Mildred surmise the man who tossed the mug to be Edwin Newman? What if she just assumed? If she never met him before that day...perhaps someone else lurked in the house on Saturday. Blake didn’t tell me how long the coroner determined Edwin to be dead. Perhaps the killer spent the weekend with someone who had black hair and ruby lips.”

  The police sketch from the newspaper, along with the print-out of the scarred robber, lay on top of the pile of notes. “I’ll take them over to Mildred and get a positive I.D.”

  The clock chimed two. Mildred’s nap would be in full swing. Better wait until four. Tea time. She’d take her a plate of butterscotch brownies left over from the social hour at church.

  Janie returned to her original task. Rosanne Richardson mentioned during Bunco she eyed something peculiar in the wee hours of Tuesday morning. A strong white light flashed through the bedroom curtains into her eyes. Much brighter than the street lamps’ soft illumination casting over the neighborhood. She lived catty-cornered to the Newman residence. A flashlight, perhaps?