Answering Machine Knew Read online

  Barb scolded, “Now, Mabel, you shouldn't tell tales.” The elderly woman raised the dryer up enough to make out what the beautician said in a louder voice. “You shouldn't spread gossip, and it's especially not nice to speak ill of the dead.”

  Mrs. Baxter's face reddened as she puffed up like an insulted toad. “Barb, it would only be gossip if what I know isn't true or told me by someone else. I know for a fact what I said is the truth. That woman had plenty of company. I saw cars at her house all the time.”

  “Cars? Who did they belong to?” Barb asked. Now she was curious enough to listen to gossip.

  “I didn't know the company, but I can tell you this. It weren't her family. I lived by her long enough to know all her family. I just know sometimes I see a man get out of a fancy black car just before dark. A nicely dressed man at that. The other guy drives a blue car. He was a common dresser, shirt and khaki type.”

  “So did they come the same evening?” I asked.

  Mabel let out a peal of laughter. “Silly girl! Of course not. She wouldn't be receiving two gentlemen callers on the same evening.”

  I returned the smile. “I guess you're right about that. I understand her son came to see her every evening.”

  “Bill Hutson did that all right. I know his white car and what he looks like. He's my insurance agent,” Mabel said.

  “How is it you saw who visited Mrs. Hutson?”

  Mabel studied a Betty Crocker Chocolate cake mix center fold. “I live across the road from her.”

  “No kidding!” How lucky could I get to have picked now to come into the shop.

  Barb's comb stopped in mid air. “I've drove on that road. I don't remember seeing a house across from Mrs. Hutson's farm.”

  “That's because my house is off the road down a lane that might be mistaken for a bean field drive by most. A hill in the field hides my house. I just happened to be in my upstairs bedroom where I have a clear view of Alice Hutson's house. That's when I saw the cars.”

  “What a coincidence that was.” Mabel peered over her glasses at me. “I mean that you just happened to always look across the road at the right time,” I said dryly.

  Mabel wedged the dryer tighter on her curlers and picked her magazine up, holding it in front of her sour face.

  “That explains it though,” Barb said softly so Mabel couldn't hear.

  “What does it explain?” I whispered.

  “Why Mrs. Hutson asked for a special do on Monday morning. She doesn't get her hair set too often. She must of had a date,” Barb said with wonderment in her voice.

  “What's so surprising about that?”

  “That old woman interested in men is surprising to me. She seemed the type that kept to herself unless she was volunteering for something or other,” Barb exclaimed.

  I wasn't through with Mabel so I raised my voice to get her attention. “Mrs. Baxter, you see anything interesting happen at the Hutson place on Monday night? That's when she died.”

  Mabel shifted uneasily in the dryer chair. Her forefinger rubbed over the chocolate icing on the cake picture like she was fixing to sample it.

  “Ma'am, did you hear me?” I raised my voice louder than before.

  Mabel nodded. “I heard.” Her eyebrows knitted together over her nose as she frowned. “That night was when the strange going ons happened.”

  “Like what?” Barb and I asked in unison.

  “For one thing, Alice's son didn't come that evening. Every night just before we eat at five thirty I go upstairs and open our bedroom window to let in the night air. I noticed the Hutson driveway was empty. It wasn't like Mr. Hutson not to show up right after five like he always did. I thought about it and decided he had a client that detained him.”

  “That all that happened?” I asked.

  Mabel nodded her head. “No, after supper we always go for a walk just before dark when it's cooler outside. When we topped the hill, I saw a dark green car driving inside Alice's garage.”

  “What kind of car?”

  “I don't know car brands or years. Even if I did, all I got a glimpse of was the back end of the car,” Mabel said.

  “That all that happened?” I repeated.

  “No,” Mabel said loudly. “Henry and I sit on our porch in the evening until bedtime. We heard what sounded like a firecracker explode.” Barb turned the dryer off and felt Mabel hair. “Could have been a car backfire, too.”

  “Was there much traffic on the road that night?” I asked.

  “No, but there never is. We heard what we thought was a car go by right after we heard the loud bang. The car was moving really slow, but I guess the driver had to drive slow. He didn't have any headlights. The car headed north it sounded like.

  About a half hour after the noise, bright headlights lit up the sky above the hill, coming down Alice's driveway. Whoever it was headed back toward town.”

  Barb took the woman by the arm. “Mabel, you come over to the other chair so I can comb your hair out. Renee's going to use the dryer now.”

  As I passed Mabel, I said, “Was it pretty quiet at Alice's house after that?”

  Mabel grunted. “Not on your life. It started raining, so we had to go inside. That's when I remembered the bedroom window was open. As I shut it, a car turned into the Hutson driveway. That one was an older noisy car. The muffler was bad.

  I sat down on the bed and wondered what was going on over there. My thought was maybe Alice had taken a turn for the worse. I heard at church she had been sick for some time.” Mabel paused and asked, “Wonder what her ailment was?”

  I shrugged as if I had no idea.

  “Anyway, I don't reckon that visitor stayed more than half an hour,” Madge continued. “The car roared when the driver started it and raced down the driveway as if the driver was on a race track. He didn't even stop to see if anyone was coming before coming out on the road. It was like the driver was in a real big hurry. That car sped out of sight in seconds back toward town.”

  By the time I finished at the beauty shop, my shift was about to end. I pulled into my driveway and called in on my car radio to check for messages and signed off for the night. I decided it was best if I didn't stop at the station sporting a new hair do.

  No way did I want to open that can of worms and put a downer on my evening. I'd sure get teased for goofing off on the job. Briceson would want to know why I needed my hair fixed. I could say I did it only for the uncover operation, but I didn't know if I could keep a straight face and look him in the eyes. I guess I'm not that good a liar.

  In the morning, I'd comb my hair out until it was straight down again, and Briceson wouldn't be the wiser.

  I had to hurry to get ready for my date. I only knew Doc from working with him, but from what I had seen of him, I figured he was the punctual type.

  I'd been so surprised by the invitation I didn't ask where Doc was going to take me for dinner, so I hunted through my closet for an outfit that might impress him. I didn't date often enough to know how to impress men. In fact, I didn't care to try usually, but for a vague reason I couldn't define yet, Doc peaked my interest as a suitor. I wanted to please him.

  The black jumpsuit jumped out at me. I worried it might be too fancy an outfit and scare Doc off if he was taking me to one of the singles bars, but I put it on and cinched the belt anyway. Slipped into black heels, sprayed with cologne, and I was ready to go.

  If Doc showed up in a plaid shirt and blue jeans, I'd be willing to change in a hurry. Just to make sure, I stepped in front of the full length mirror on my closet doors and twisted around. Yep, I was ready as I was going to get.

  The door bell rang. I opened it to a suave man in a gray suit, holding a bouquet of roses. I looked him up and down. All I'd ever seen the man dressed in was a white lab coat and scrubs. I half expected him to show up that way for our date and make me change into something less formal. “Doc, is that you?”

  “Funny!” He snorted. “Unless you had another date on the string, it's me
.”

  “Nope, it's you I'm waiting for. It's just I've never seen you out of that lab coat. What an improvement. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were quite the playboy.”

  “I'm glad you approve,” he said and gave me the once over. “I must say you don't look anything like a cop tonight. Here these are for you.” He shoved the roses toward me.

  “Thanks. Come in while I put these in water. I hope you brought plenty of money. I'm starved.” I headed to the kitchen cupboard to hunt the vase. I only have one, and it's on the top shelf way to the back. Hey, why keep it handy when I'm hardly ever given flowers to put in it. I started to drag a chair over to the cupboard.

  Doc followed me. “Let me get the vase. You're an accident waiting to happen if you get on that chair in those heels.” He brought the vase down and handed it to me. “What did you do? Skip dinner?”

  I ran water in the vase. “Sort of. I decided to for go lunch and get my hair fixed.”

  “You did that just for me. I'm impressed,” Doc said, grinning.

  “Don't sound so cocky, Doc. I was working undercover if you must know. Getting my hair fixed by Mrs. Hutson's beautician was a good way to find out something. Gossip is thick as the Wagon Wheel cafe's homemade rhubarb and strawberry jam in one of those places.”

  “Un huh,” he said as if he didn't believe me. “Listen, since this is a date, we agreed not to talk shop tonight. Do you think you could call me Ross this evening?”

  I smiled sweetly at him as I set the vase on the table. “I'd like that, and you can call me, Renee. Now we can leave.”

  Once they were in the car, I asked, “Where are we going?” At least I wasn't worried about being over dressed on this date when Doc was suited up like a dandy.

  “The country club.”

  Wow! That was one place I didn't frequent. I looked down at my outfit. Good thing I put on the black one piece. It was the best I could have done for the ritzy country club. The club was filled with the town's upper crust and so was the gulf course.

  My stomach did a hungry flip flop the minute we entered the dining room, and I got a whiff of food cooking.

  My midsection made a nervous turn over every time one of the high society women eyed me. I could tell they wondered why I was with Doc. I didn't know if it was just the surprise of seeing the man with a woman or this particular woman.

  The meal was good. I expected no less from the country club kitchen since I'd heard they had a fancy cook.

  Doc kept topping off our wine glasses and making small talk. I assumed conversation must be an effort for this man of few words, and he needed to consume the wine to loosen up. I smiled, nodded where appropriate and kept drinking the expensive wine. After all, I wasn't the one driving home.

  My mind drifted for a moment back to my job. I fingered the rim of my wine glass, thinking about the murder case.

  Deep in thought I heard Doc say, “Why haven't you found a man you're serious about?”

  I focused on him. The small talk had flown out a window while I took my attention off this man. Doc looked solemn like he was really interested. I had to think a minute about how I wanted to answer him. “I've never found one that interested me enough to stay serious about? Besides, after I'd been burned a few times, I didn't care to keep looking. Didn't seem to find the right guy that was my type.”

  “Why not?”

  I gave that a brief ponder and decided to be truthful with Doc. “One was too bossy. Another was too picky for my taste. I felt like I was in the odd man couple with one fellow. Then there's the fact I'm a cop. That is a turn off for most men. Finally, I gave up and decided I'm better off by myself.”

  “Ever stop to think you might be expecting too much from those men?”

  I decided to put the ball in his corner for a change. “Never gave that a moment's worry. What about you? I've never heard your name linked with a woman.”

  “Never found anyone that interested me for more than one or two dates.” He smiled and put his hand over mine. “Until now.”

  “Well, just maybe I could feel the same way, if we take this dating business slow, so I get a chance to know the real Ross Klink,” I said.

  “That mean you won't go out with me tomorrow night?”

  “That means, I really don't mind being a loner so it depends,” I evaded.

  “On what?” Ross asked, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand.

  I grinned. “How demanding my job gets. If I'm not working late on the Hutson case, you need much notice?”

  “No, just call me.”

  Chapter 7

  Early Thursday morning, I went for a jog before I dressed for work. I'm not an avid fan of waking myself up with exercise first thing in the morning. Usually I rely on the cafe's coffee to do that, but I needed to clear the fog out of my brain from previous night's date with Doc.

  I should have stopped him from adding to my wine glass repeatedly when it was half empty. I wouldn't feel so dense with a slight headache, but what the heck. Doc didn't ask me if I had a good time, and I didn't admit to it, but I did.

  When I arrived at the station, I called Bill Hutson. “I need you to meet us at your mother's house. Officer Briceson and I are coming back out to the farm to look around again. I feel like there must have been something right under my nose we missed. Will ten this morning be all right? Fine, see you then.”

  Riding in the same car with Briceson was always a downer. He always non stop talked about his date the previous night. There are only two singles bars in town, and he's a hit with the women in both of them to hear him tell it.

  I'd been out on a date last night, too, but I wasn't about to fill in the nosy man about my evening. That would let me in for too many questions that weren't any of Briceson's business.

  I was curious about one thing, and it had nothing to do with my young co-worker's love life. “Briceson, you have quite the night life, don't you?”

  “So?” His attitude changed.

  “Oh, nothing wrong with that. I just wondered if you had ever seen Doc Klink dressed up and out on the town?”

  Briceson's head jerked back. I was glad he had a good grip on the steering wheel. “Not dressed up. He shows up in Joe's Bar and Grill once in a while in a knit polo shirt and blue jeans.”

  “With anyone?”

  “Nah, not that I've ever seen. He's always alone. Why?”

  “No special reason. Just curious about the man's social life,” I said.

  That was just enough to get Briceson's curiosity antenna twirling. I wished I hadn't mentioned Doc. “Why would you wonder? To listen to you talk to each other, I'd swear you two don't get along well enough for you to care what the man does in his off time.”

  “We're professionals doing our jobs,” I agreed.

  Why let clueless Briceson think anything else. I turned away and smiled at my reflection in the side mirror. So Doc dressed up just for our date.

  I wouldn't have ridden with Briceson, but I'd washed my car after the last trip to the country. I didn't want mud or dust on it again any time soon, because I hate washing the car.

  I just had time on the short ride to explain what I found out at Barb's beauty salon from Mabel Baxter. Now we had at least three or four suspects and didn't have a clue who they were.

  Bill Hutson was waiting for us in his car. He got out and led the way, using his key to unlock the door. He stepped inside and sniffed. “Smells stuffy in here. I'm going to open the window over the sinks while we're here. Mom always kept it open so she had plenty of fresh country air in the house. Want me to put on a pot of coffee?”

  “No thanks. Don't go to the trouble. We don't want to keep you any longer than we have to. You must take off from work to come here,” I said. “What do you do for a living?”

  “I own an insurance agency. I have two salesmen working with me so I pretty much make my own hours.” Bill Hutson began a litany about the insurance business and how tough it was to sell to new clients with times as hard as the
y were.

  As I listened to the man ramble on, he followed Brice and me upstairs and into his mother's room. The crumpled bed was just the way we last saw it with the bloody sheet piled in the middle.

  Hutson's face paled as the sight brought back the horrible scene of his mother lying dead in a pool of blood with a gun in her hand.

  “Listen, it won't be much longer that we have to keep the room like it is. Then you can hire someone to clean,” I said sympathetically as I stepped over by the bed.

  “I'd appreciate that,” Hutson said.

  I fixated on the glaring red light on the answering machine-phone combo next to the bed. “Did you check the messages on the answering machine when we were here before, Briceson?”

  “No, never thought about it.”

  “Mr. Hutson, did you check the messages? The machine shows your mother had one message recently.”

  “No, that was the last thing on my mind,” came his strangled reply.

  Briceson said eagerly, “Want me to check?”

  “No, not now. Just bag the answering machine,” I ordered.

  Briceson hesitated, giving me a goofy quizzical look.

  “I wouldn't want smudged fingerprints,” I said tersely.

  “I'll take the answering machine back to the police lab and give it a good going over,” Briceson said, pulling on gloves.

  “Officer Briceson, I almost forgot. Bag that handkerchief separate so we can take it to the morgue for testing.” I turned to Hutson. “We haven't looked in the bathroom yet. Before I go downstairs I want to stop there.”

  “Mom's bathroom is across the hall,” Bill Hutson said and hesitated to let me go out the door first.

  Inspecting the bathroom didn't take long. I checked the waste can. It was clean, and everything else was in its place. No bloody washcloth or towel in sight. Of course, that would have been too easy.

  “We can go back downstairs to the kitchen while I wait for Briceson. By the way, did your mother go to senior citizen luncheons or gatherings in town?”

  “Sure, she went every Wednesday at noon to the community center meal and played bridge all afternoon when she was up to it,” Hutson said, following me down the stairs. “Some of the senior citizens that go there are friends and neighbors of Mom's. Of course, she was known to almost everyone in town, because she volunteered at the hospital and nursing home. Any time a fund raiser came up, she was helping out.”