Faith Page 16

  I finally gave in and shared why I was looking at blowup mattresses.

  “Wonderful. You took my advice about taking in Neil.”

  He’d suggested it, but I hated giving him the satisfaction of knowing he was right. Oh well, why not? After all, it’s Christmas.

  “Yes, it was your idea, a good one.”

  He beamed and curtsied. It was worth telling him the truth to see him happy. We studied our options when he came up with another good idea. I should buy an electric pump to inflate the mattress. It was a good idea, but he didn’t have to add I’d need the pump because I was too old to blow it up with my fossilizing lungs.

  On the way home, I called Bob Howard and hit the speaker button for Charles. While I had confidence Cindy was on the right trail with Russell, and that she’d contact Kaycee Ericson like she told me she would, I wasn’t ready to convict the landlord. He seemed sincere with everything he’d told me. It also seemed counterproductive when he told me he was glad the building had been reduced to ashes. If anyone had dirt on or would know someone who would know anything bad about Kaycee, it’d be Bob.

  Willie Nelson was singing “On the Road Again” in the background, when Bob answered with, “On your way to get a cheeseburger?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are you wasting my valuable time?”

  “Bob, I appreciate you taking time out of your busy day to talk to me,” I said, exuding sarcasm.

  “Damned right, I’m busy. You know how much energy it takes to sit, drink a beer, and watch the overpaid cook fixing burgers? What do you need?”

  See why we’re such good friends?

  “What do you know about Kaycee Ericson?”

  “You nosin’ in something that’s none of your business?”

  “Yes.”

  “Figures. Don’t know much. She’s bought a few buildings over here, hear she’s itching to be a big-time developer. Heard she either is or was married to Alan, who actually is a big-time developer. That’s it, my well of information’s dry.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Does this have something to do with the apartment building fire?”

  “Yes.”

  “Think she set it?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Let me make some calls to guys who’ll know more about her than what I said.”

  “Bob, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Don’t appreciate it enough to frequent this fine-dining establishment.” He hung up.

  I was impressed, first because Bob gave me some information without me having to buy food, and second, Charles hadn’t interrupted.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  After dropping Charles at his apartment, I went home to repurpose my office into a bedroom. I was glad Charles encouraged me to buy the pump, otherwise, it would’ve taken me five years and probably a heart attack to inflate the mattress with lung power. Using the pump, I had the bed inflated, covered with sheets that were too large, and added a pillow I’d forgotten I had. All Neil’s bedroom lacked was a piece of chocolate on the pillow and a Gideon’s Bible.

  With my hotelier duties completed, I moved to the living room to review what, if anything, I’d learned during the extraordinarily busy day. Since I’d innocently walked to Bert’s for breakfast and coffee, I’d talked with Ty, Janice, and Neil, residents of sixty percent of the five occupied apartments in the ill-fated building. Janice eliminated Horace as a suspect, while adding Kaycee. Two of the displaced residents, Noelle and Neil, had found somewhere to live. And, it appeared another suspect, Russell, was on the verge of being arrested.

  While a lot had transpired, I wasn’t closer to figuring out who set the fire than I’d been on my walk to Bert’s. My phone rang as I came to that realization.

  Charles said, “I’ll pick you up at nine in the morning.”

  “Going to buy my Christmas present, or taking a flight to Bora Bora?”

  Silence was the response to what I thought was a humorous comment. He’d hung up.

  Charles’s definition of nine o’clock was eight-thirty, so I was waiting for him on my screened-in porch when he pulled in the drive.

  “On time, good,” he said as I slipped in the car.

  He wore a navy-blue sweatshirt with Auburn University in orange on the front.

  “Morning, Charles,” I said, and resisted asking where we were going.

  He drove two blocks then turned on East Arctic Avenue, before saying, “Know why I wore this sweatshirt?”

  “To keep you warm?” I said, knowing it wasn’t the answer he wanted.

  “Guess again.”

  Then it struck me.

  “Auburn has a well-known college of veterinarian medicine, so we’re going to Martha Wright’s zoo.”

  His head jerked my direction. “Wow! I may give you a promotion in my private detective agency.”

  “Charles, now that I know where we’re going, how about why?”

  “Martha called last night. Asked if I could stop by this morning.”

  “Why?”

  “Suppose because of my charm, good looks, way with women.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Again, why?”

  “Clueless. I’m bringing you in case she got a stray mountain lion.”

  I didn’t waste time saying the mountain lion theory was as remote as her wanting him to visit because of his good looks, charm, and way with women.

  Martha greeted us at the door. I was surprised no barking dogs were surrounding her.

  “Glad you could make it,” she said. “I see you brought Chris.”

  She was smiling so I couldn’t tell what she thought about Charles’s plus one.

  “Chris loves hearing about your animals, so I thought he’d enjoy visiting.”

  I did?

  “Great,” she said, with little enthusiasm. “Come in. We’re gathered in the sitting room.”

  Other than Squeezy, I didn’t know who “we” could include. Seconds later, that mystery was answered when I saw Martha’s neighbor, Dixie Thompson, seated in one of the wingback chairs. I’d met Dixie before meeting Martha. She lived across the street from Martha and had been her friend for years. She was in her late-seventies, five-foot-eight, thin, with white hair that would put the whitest paint color to shame. Her hair looked even whiter compared to her tanned, leathery face.

  Dixie stood, held up a tumbler holding an amber-colored liquid, and said, “Moscow.”

  Charles was the invited guest, so I let him respond, besides, I had no idea what to say.

  “Huh?” he articulately said.

  Dixie held the tumbler higher. “It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

  Martha laughed. “In Moscow.”

  “Oh,” Charles said.

  Watching Dixie sway as she chuckled at Martha’s remark, I wondered where it’d been five o’clock an hour or two earlier.

  “Fellas,” Martha said, “how about a hot toddy?”

  “Or bourbon,” Dixie added.

  “No thanks,” Charles said. “Wouldn’t happen to have any coffee brewed?”

  “Heaven’s no,” Martha said. “That stuff’s not good for you. Let me grab a chair from the kitchen. Wouldn’t want you to sit on the floor.”

  Charles said, “Martha, I’ll get it.”

  She pointed her cane in the direction of the kitchen like Charles wouldn’t know how to find it. Fortunately, Dixie was in the chair closest to Squeezy’s occupied aquarium, so I sat on the only vacant seat. Charles returned and pulled the kitchen chair up beside Martha.

  Martha waited for Charles to get comfortable, then said, “Gentlemen, I appreciate you coming over. I wanted to—”

  Dixie interrupted, “Martha, God love her, wanted to be an unvarnished jackass. I told her so in no uncertain terms.”

  Martha pointed her cane at Dixie. “Dear, why don’t you let me explain?”

  Yes, Martha, please, I thought.

  “It’s your house,” Dixie said, then took another sip.

  “As you recall, w
hen you visited the other day, you asked if I’d let the young man from Bert’s stay here until he found satisfactory housing.”

  “Ty Striker,” Charles said.

  “Yes, anyway, I reacted strongly.”

  “Like a jackass,” Dixie added, only to receive a dirty look from her friend.

  “I was concerned about how my good friend Dixie and my dearly beloved deceased husband would react to a man moving in with me.”

  “Cut to the chase, Martha,” Dixie said. “You thought we’d think it was for sex.”

  Martha’s face turned red. “Dixie, I don’t think that’s appropriate talk—”

  Again, Dixie interrupted, apparently one of her strengths, “Martha, you know that’s what you thought. What did I tell you?”

  “Dixie, I don’t think—”

  “I told you the man from Bert’s was young enough to be your grandson, heavens, possibly great-grandson. The last time you had sex that peanut farmer from Georgia was President. I promise sex won’t be popping in Ty’s head when he sees you. I think it’d be great for you having someone who walks on two legs living in here not slithering around like Squeezy or walking on all fours like most of your family members.”

  “But, what about—”

  “I know, I know. What would Tommy think? I told you he ain’t doing a bit of thinking down in that hole in the ground. Not a bit.”

  Martha leaned forward in her chair, glared at her friend, then said, “Dixie, enough.” She turned to Charles, then to me. “Guys, Dixie has some good points. Crudely put, but good. If you think the young man would be interested, I’d be honored for him to move in. As I think you said the last time you were here, this place is too large for me to keep up by myself.”

  Charles glanced at me. I said, “Martha, I think Ty would be thrilled.”

  “So would his kitten, Lost,” Charles added.

  “Martha,” I said, “You’ll make Ty’s Christmas.”

  “Ladies,” Charles said, “will you be at Cal’s Christmas party?”

  Dixie said, “Can’t speak for Martha, but I’ll be there. We always go to the potluck supper at Planet Follywood, but that’s later.”

  “Don’t know why you can’t speak for me, you always do.”

  “Okay,” Dixie said, “Martha will be there. She may even bring her new boy toy.” She slapped her knee and laughed. “Then after we get home, he can come-a-courtin’ over my way if Martha don’t wear him out.”

  On that, it was time to leave. I told Martha I’d talk to Ty and get back with her.

  In the car, I said, “At least we didn’t have to put up with any of Martha’s animals.”

  “You got enough dog hair on your butt from the chair to build a dog. I think I would’ve hugged Squeezy before listening more to Dixie.”

  “Good point,” I said, “as long as it was you holding the boa.”

  Instead of turning in my drive, Charles drove a hundred feet farther and pulled in Bert’s lot.

  “Let’s tell Ty,” Charles said.

  Ty was behind the register talking to Shawn, another friend of mine, holding his tiny dog Bruiser. He was paying for a loaf of bread while Ty was breaking a treat in half and giving it to Bruiser. Shawn left so Charles asked Ty if he had a few minutes. I was no expert, but it appeared Ty was working. I wondered how he’d have time for us. Charles added, “It’s important.”

  A woman stepped behind us with a bag of chips. Ty looked around and asked a man working behind the deli counter if he could cover the register. The man nodded.

  Ty said, “Let’s go outside. I need to check on Lost.”

  On the way to his car, I asked if he knew Martha Wright.

  “By reputation. Isn’t she the woman who feeds strays, has a hundred pets?”

  I smiled. “She does feed strays, but her pet count is closer to a dozen.”

  “Don’t think I’ve talked to her, or if I have, I didn’t know who she was. Why?”

  I shared that we’d come from her house where she said she’d love for Ty to stay there until he found somewhere more suitable. I explained that Martha’s house was on the ocean and had about two-thousand times more living space than his Miata.

  “Why would a stranger want to take me in, me in?”

  I resisted saying it was because she took in strays. “She knew about the fire, heard you were living in your car, and had Lost. She’s an animal lover, so she thought her house would be perfect, that is, if you had any interest.”

  Yes, some of that was reimagining history, but I wanted it to sound like Martha’s idea.

  “I’d be thrilled for the opportunity,” he said. “When can I meet her?”

  I asked when he got off work. He told me six. I told him I’d let her know he’d accept her kind offer, and if okay with her, he could go to her house after work.

  “How’s that sound?”

  “Wonderful.”

  I gave him Martha’s address and Charles gave him her phone number in case he couldn’t get there today.

  “Oh, one more thing, Mr. Landrum. You were asking me if I knew of anyone who might know about the fire, anyone other than us who lived there.”

  I vaguely remembered saying something about it. “Yes.”

  “Did you see that lady behind you in line before we came out here?”

  I noticed someone, but that was all. “Yes, why?”

  “Today was the first time I’ve seen her since the fire. It reminded me she talked to me two, maybe three, weeks before the building burned. I was heading to my apartment and she was in the parking lot.”

  Charles said, “What’d she want?”

  “Nothing important. Stuff like how I liked living there, how long I’d been there, if the landlord kept up the building good.”

  He was right, I didn’t see how any of that was important. “Why’d you mention it?”

  “I could be wrong, but I think I saw her near the building a time or two after that. Sort of thought it was a little strange, that’s all.”

  “You saw her two or three times before the fire?” I said.

  “Think so.”

  Charles said, “Did she give you her name?”

  “Yeah. It was something like Kelsey.”

  I said, “Could it be Kaycee?”

  Ty nodded. “Kaycee, umm. Could be.”

  I looked back toward the store. A blue SUV was pulling out of the lot, but the windows were tinted. I couldn’t see the driver. “Ty, is that her in the blue SUV?”

  He looked at the vehicle heading east on Ashley Avenue. “That’s her car.”

  She was driving a Maserati SUV, a blue Maserati like the one parked adjacent to the apartment building’s parking lot during the Christmas parade. Of course, there could be more than one blue Maserati SUV on Folly, but what were the odds?

  “Ty,” I said, “other than asking about the stuff you already mentioned, do you recall her saying anything else?”

  He tapped on the Miata’s window. Lost jumped from the seat to the headrest then gave Ty a where’s my food look. Ty opened the door enough to get his hand in and wrapped it around Lost’s stomach. The kitten purred as Ty lifted him out of the car, cradling him in the crook of his elbow. Charles being Charles stepped closer to Ty and rubbed Lost under his chin, then told the feline he was getting a new home, a home with animals to play with.

  Ty handed Lost to Charles, then turned back to me. “Sorry, Mr. Landrum, what was the question?”

  “Do you recall Kaycee saying anything else?”

  “Not really. I think she must’ve been interested in renting an apartment.”

  Charles continued to rub the underside of his feline friend’s chin, but said, “Why think that?”

  “She wanted to know if there were vacant units.”

  He hadn’t mentioned that earlier.

  I said, “You sure?”

  “Yeah. I told her the one on the first floor was empty. I offered to give her the landlord’s name and number. Said she already had it.”<
br />
  Charles handed Lost back to Ty, and said, “Guess that’s why she was asking how well he maintained the building.”

  “That’s what I figured.”

  It could be as simple as that, I thought. Or not.

  Charles said, “Did she say anything else?”

  “Don’t recall anything.” He looked at his watch, then slipped Lost back in his car. “Guys, I’d better get back in there. I really need to keep this job.”

  I thanked him for talking with us and said I’d let Martha know he’d be stopping by after work.

  He headed to the store. Charles headed to his car, until I said, “Charles, remember when we were on our way to the fire?”

  “Duh, how could I forget? We were on—”

  “Let me finish.”

  He shrugged. “So?”

  “Do you remember seeing vehicles in the lot near the apartment building’s parking area?”

  “Chris, I remember black smoke, red flames, red fire trucks, and two ambulances that nearly ran us down. I don’t remember what was parked nearby. Why?”

  “One of the vehicles was a blue Maserati SUV.”

  Charles looked toward Bert’s. “Like the one what’s her name was driving?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Coincidence?”

  “What do you think?”

  He continued looking at Bert’s like the SUV would return. “Could she live in the building beside the apartment building?”

  “No. Cindy told me she lives in a condo near Harris Teeter.”

  “Think you need to tell Cindy.”

  I said, “I will.”

  “I mean now.”

  I reached for my phone, when Charles added, “Don’t forget to push that little speaker icon.”

  Instead of getting a live voice, Cindy’s message informed me she was unable to take the call, for the caller to leave a message. I asked her to call when she got a chance. Charles harrumphed, then mumbled something about where were the police when you needed them.

  I told him I’d let him know after I talked to the Chief. He asked if he needed to drive me home so I wouldn’t have to walk thirty yards. I said I could manage the voyage. He left me standing in Bert’s side parking area.

  I was still in the lot when the phone rang. I figured Charles missed hearing Cindy by seconds, but I was wrong. Close, but wrong.