Black and Blueberry Die (A Fresh-Baked Mystery Book 11) Read online

  The woman didn’t press him for last names. She said, “It’s Mrs. Prentice. I’m a widow.”

  “Sorry. I was sayin’ M-I-Z, though, sort of slurrin’ the Missus, instead of M-S.”

  Estelle Prentice laughed and said, “I should have known. You’re an old-timer like me and don’t have enough time left to be politically correct.”

  Sam just shrugged. Phyllis knew the last thing he wanted to do was get involved in a political discussion of any sort.

  “How many horses do you have?” he asked.

  “Four. Don’t really need ’em at my age, but I’m used to having them, I guess.”

  “Did you know the couple who lived here?” Phyllis asked.

  “Danny and Roxanne? A little. My shed’s by the road, and they stopped once when I was out there and introduced themselves to me. Roxanne, she liked horses. Said that one of these days she might get one. They have enough acreage here around the house to support one.”

  “They just own the land around the house?”

  “Yeah. All the land on this side of the road for a mile or more used to be the old Chamberlain ranch. Ben Chamberlain settled here in the 1880s and built that old stone house you can see over there.” Estelle pointed to a hilltop about half a mile away to the south. “From what I’ve heard, it used to be the first stagecoach stop west of Fort Worth. They’d switch teams every eight to ten miles.”

  “That’s fascinating,” Phyllis murmured.

  Sam said, “Does the Chamberlain family still own the rest of the land hereabouts?”

  “Some of it,” Estelle replied. “If you came from the direction of town, you passed a little side road to get here. That side road leads up over the hill and on the other side the family’s been breaking up the acreage and selling it to housing developers.” She frowned. “You can’t see ’em from here, but they’ve started building and in a few years there’ll be hundreds of houses not half a mile away. Reckon it’s only a matter of time until the family breaks up the whole place.”

  “Why’d they sell off this house, then?” Sam asked, nodding toward it.

  “That’s the first thing they sold. The ranch foreman used to live here, back in the old days. I think they planned to break up this side of the property first and develop it themselves, but then there was some talk about how it was easier to connect up with the utilities on the other side of the hill...” Estelle shook her head. “I don’t know the details. But they changed the plan and started in from the other direction. It’s inevitable, though. Whichever way they go about it, sooner or later this’ll all be covered with those damn brick houses that all look alike, crammed together like a rat’s nest.”

  Sam nodded in solemn agreement.

  “They won’t get my land, though,” Estelle went on. “My kids’ll probably sell it when I’m gone, along with my horses and everything else, but I’ll be too dead to care then.”

  “I guess we can’t expect our children to always think the same things are important that we do,” Phyllis said.

  “Not this day and age, that’s for damn sure.”

  “The people who bought this house, were they an older couple?”

  “Danny and Roxanne?” Estelle shook her head. “No, they were just kids. Early thirties, maybe? We never really talked enough for me to know for sure. They were a little different, though, Roxanne especially. Seemed like a really nice girl. She said she’d always wanted a place like this in the country. And like I told you, she wanted to get a horse sometime. Danny, well, he went along with her, of course, but I don’t think he really cared that much either way. He just wanted to do whatever would make her happy. I sure was surprised when he killed her. Didn’t see that comin’ at all.”

  Phyllis put her phone away and said, “I suppose we’ve taken up enough of your time, Estelle...”

  “Oh, shoot, I’m glad to talk. You could probably tell that about me. My late husband, he was one of those fellas you had to pry the words out of with a crowbar. Funny thing is, other folks would tell me that he talked all the time around them.”

  “Sometimes it just works out that way,” Sam said.

  Estelle said goodbye, got back in her truck, backed around, and drove off, raising a cloud of dust from the driveway. Phyllis and Sam waited until it blew away, then followed suit.

  “Head for home now?” Sam asked as he pulled out onto the loop.

  “Yes, although if you want to stop somewhere for lunch along the way, that would be fine with me. It’s getting pretty late.”

  “Sounds good to me. What did you think of the place?”

  “It looks like Roxanne and Danny were turning it into a real home,” Phyllis said. “From what Mrs. Prentice said, Roxanne was really the one who wanted to buy the house and fix it up.”

  “Yeah. You know what was gonna happen, though, when all those new houses came flowin’ over the hill like a tide.”

  “The property was going to get more valuable. They would have been able to sell it to a developer, get out of debt, and make some profit on top of that.”

  “That’s my guess,” Sam said. “Danny might’ve wanted to sell. The money from a deal like that could’ve gone a long way toward keepin’ the paint and body shop afloat. But if Roxanne didn’t want to sell, a disagreement like that could lead to a bad argument.”

  “The same thought went through my head. And then something else occurred to me?”

  “What’s that?”

  “What we’ve found is a pretty good motive for Danny to commit murder,” Phyllis said, “and that’s just the opposite of what we’re trying to do!”

  “But facts are facts.”

  “Yes,” she said. “Unfortunately, they are.”

  Chapter 11

  They stopped at a steakhouse in Willow Park for lunch, then drove on to Weatherford. When they were on the outskirts of town, Phyllis’s cell phone rang. She took it out of her pocket, looked at the display, and saw an unfamiliar number.

  “Probably just one of those recorded junk calls,” she said.

  “I like the one that starts out ‘Hello, seniors!’” Sam said. “That fella always sounds so dang cheerful.”

  “I suppose I’d better answer it.” Phyllis swiped the screen with her finger, held the phone to her ear, and said, “Hello?”

  A woman’s voice said, “Mrs. Newsom?”

  “That’s right.”

  “This is Aurora at Paul’s Beauty Salon. I’m calling to let you know we’ve had a cancellation, and we can see you at ten-thirty tomorrow morning if you’d like to come in.”

  “So soon? I was just there yesterday.”

  “That’s the way these things work out sometimes,” Aurora said.

  “Well, then, of course, that’s fine.” Phyllis wasn’t going to pass up a chance to find out more about the place where Roxanne Jackson had worked. “I appreciate you letting me know.”

  “I’ve got you down for ten-thirty, then. We’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Thanks,” Phyllis said, then broke the connection.

  “Goin’ on a cruise, buyin’ a security system, or lowerin’ the interest rate on your credit cards?” Sam asked with a smile.

  “I have a ten-thirty appointment tomorrow morning at Paul’s Beauty Salon.”

  “I sort of figured as much, from the way you were talkin’. I was just jokin’ about those other things.” Sam grew more serious. “Got you in in a hurry, didn’t they? I thought it was supposed to be a couple of weeks.”

  “According to Aurora, they had a cancellation. It’s strange. I didn’t actually see the cancellation list on her computer, but I got the impression it was long enough I wouldn’t have been anywhere near the top. I mean, it wouldn’t be surprising if they called a few other people first and they couldn’t come in tomorrow, but...”

  “But this is almost like they moved you all the way to the top on purpose.”

  Phyllis nodded and said, “That’s the way it seems to me.”

  “You can’t prov
e it, though.”

  “Not at all. And why would they do something like that? It’s suspicious.”

  “Maybe somebody there is suspicious of you.”

  “Because I came in asking questions and brought up Roxanne?” Phyllis nodded again, slowly, as she frowned in thought. “I suppose that’s possible. But only if the someone you’re talking about has something to hide. It could only be Aurora or Pauline. I didn’t talk to anyone else.”

  “So you’re gonna keep the appointment?”

  “Of course.”

  “Maybe I better come with you,” Sam said. “There was a good place to sit, you said, and I could take a book with me. Fellas must wait there for their ladies from time to time.”

  Phyllis smiled and said, “Am I your lady, Sam?”

  “Reckon you would’ve known that by now.”

  “I do,” Phyllis said, then went on, “But I don’t think anything’s going to happen to me in a beauty salon with a lot of other people around.”

  “Not likely, but you never know. I sure don’t mind taggin’ along. Anyway, it gives me an excuse to sit and read for a while.”

  “You’re retired. You can sit and read any time you want to.”

  “Yeah, but after leadin’ such a busy life for so long, sometimes it’s hard to slow down. I feel guilty when I’m not up doin’ something.”

  “I know the feeling,” Phyllis said. “Of course, you can come along. I’m always happy to have your company. Also, it’ll give you a chance to talk to Aurora. Maybe you’ll find out more than I could. She might see you as the kindly old grandfather type. Only her grandfather was a hippy.”

  Sam grinned, held up his right hand with the first two fingers spread in a peace sign and said, “Far out, dude.”

  ••●••

  When they got back to the house, they found Carolyn in the kitchen with several mixing bowls spread out on the counter and a perplexed look on her face.

  “I’m doing something wrong,” she said, “but I can’t figure out what.”

  “I’d be glad to help,” Phyllis said as she started toward the counter and tried to see what was in the bowls.

  Carolyn moved to block her view. “No, that’s all right,” she said quickly. “This is for that recipe I’m going to enter in the magazine contest, and even though we decided that it would be all right for me to send it in, I think it’ll still look better if there’s no input from you, Phyllis. No offense.”

  “None taken,” Phyllis said, although in truth she was a little surprised by Carolyn’s attitude. It was her right to do as she saw fit, though. “Do I get to sample the result when you’re done?”

  “I don’t know.” Carolyn frowned. “Sam’s here. He’s always a good taste tester.”

  “This is for a pie contest, right?” Sam asked. “I’m your huckleberry!”

  Both women looked at him. Carolyn said, “What?”

  “It’s a line from a movie. Tombstone. When Doc Holliday’s gettin’ ready to have a gunfight with somebody...Well, never mind. I’ll be happy to sample anything you come up with, Carolyn, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

  “It’s not huckleberry pie,” Carolyn said. “Although...” She shook her head. “No, never mind.”

  “Berry,” Phyllis said, also looking as if thoughts had started to race through her head.

  Sam held up his hands, palms out, and said as he angled toward the hall, “I’m gonna leave you ladies to it, whatever it is.”

  He went on toward the living room. Knowing that Carolyn didn’t want to talk about her recipe or the magazine contest, Phyllis changed the subject by saying, “The girl at the beauty salon where Roxanne worked called a little while ago. They had a cancellation, and I’m going in to get my hair done tomorrow morning.”

  “That soon?”

  “Sam and I thought it seemed a little fishy, too,” Phyllis said. “But on the other hand, it’s a good chance to try to find out more.”

  Carolyn cocked her head to the side and said, “There’s nothing wrong with your hair the way it is now. What are you going to have them do?”

  “I don’t know.” Phyllis’s hair was mostly gray but retained some of its natural brown color. She wore it in a fairly short and simple style that was easy to take care of. But maybe one of the stylists at Paul’s could do something with it, she thought. It didn’t hurt anything to have a new look every once in a while.

  Phyllis heard the front door open and close and wondered if Sam was going somewhere. But then she heard a familiar voice call, “I’m back!” and knew someone had come in, not gone out.

  “That’s Eve,” Carolyn said with a look of pleased surprise on her face. “I didn’t think she was supposed to be back until tomorrow.”

  “You know how those show business types are,” Phyllis said with a smile as she and Carolyn started toward the living room. “Unpredictable!”

  When they came into the room, Sam was hugging Eve Turner. She turned to Phyllis and Carolyn and swept toward them like a force of nature. They welcomed her home with a group hug, including even the usually reserved Carolyn.

  “Did you meet a bunch of movie stars?” Sam asked.

  “Not really,” Eve said. “But I did see Channing Tatum in the same restaurant where I was eating one night.”

  “I don’t know who that is,” Carolyn said.

  “An absolutely gorgeous young man, dear. He was in those movies about the male dancers—Never mind, you wouldn’t have seen those.” Eve smiled. “But I own the Blu-Rays, if you’d like to watch them sometime.”

  “Where are your bags?” Phyllis asked.

  “The taxi driver put them on the porch. I’d better get them—”

  “I’ll handle that,” Sam said. “You ladies just go on with your visitin’. I know you’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

  “I want to hear all about Hollywood,” Phyllis said. She wasn’t obsessed with celebrities like so many people seemed to be, but she did think the entertainment business was interesting, in a way.

  Carolyn said, “And Phyllis can tell you about the murder she’s trying to solve.”

  Eve’s eyes opened wider as she looked at Phyllis. “Another murder? Really? That’s perfect!”

  “Well...not for the victim.”

  “No, no, of course not, but it’ll keep interest in the property up.”

  “The property?”

  “My book. The intellectual property.”

  “Of course,” Phyllis said, nodding.

  “Are they still making a movie out of it?” Carolyn asked as Sam carried in a couple of Eve’s bags and started up the stairs with them.

  Eve sank down on the sofa and sighed. “The producer who took the option on it wasn’t able to get it greenlit at the studio he’s associated with. It’s stuck in development hell.”

  Carolyn slowly shook her head and said, “I don’t know what that means.”

  “But he’s talking about trying to sell it to one of the cable channels as a TV series,” Eve said, brightening.

  “Like HBO?”

  “Not HBO.” Eve waved a hand in dismissal of that idea. “It doesn’t skew gritty enough. There’s not enough sex and violence.”

  “Well, I should hope not,” Phyllis said. “We’re retired teachers.”

  “Yes, dear, but you keep getting involved in all those murders, and some of us...Well, never mind. Let’s just say that right now, we’re not sure what’s going to happen. Something will happen, though, sooner or later. I’m sure of it. In the meantime, the book comes out this winter, and once it takes off, that will jump-start those people in Hollywood.”

  “I hope so,” Phyllis said. She knew how excited Eve was about everything that was going on, and she didn’t want to see her old friend disappointed.

  “In the meantime, tell me about this murder you’re mixed up in,” Eve said, leaning forward. “Wait, don’t tell me. You’ve figured out who the killer is, right?”

  “Not yet,” Phyllis said. “There are a
lot of strands to this case, but so far none of them have led anywhere.”

  “They will. I have complete faith in you. You saved me from a murder charge, remember?”

  “I’m not likely to forget any time soon. In this case, though, the person charged with the murder has already been convicted. He’s behind bars.”

  “Well, you have to get him out! Justice must be served!”

  Justice, Phyllis thought. And Hollywood.

  Chapter 12

  Having Eve back home made everything seem better, Phyllis thought. The place hadn’t exactly been empty without her, but the four of them were sort of like the Four Musketeers, as Sam had been known to claim.

  “And I’m D’Artagnan,” he would always add.

  “I wouldn’t know how to use a sword or a musket,” Carolyn had said the last time he brought it up. “I’m just glad you didn’t call us the Four Stooges.” She shuddered a little at the thought.

  “There were actually six Stooges in all...seven if you count Ted Healy, who started the act—”

  That was as far as the conversation had gotten before it moved on, thankfully, to something else.

  During the afternoon, at supper, and then during the evening, most of the discussion centered around Eve’s trip to Hollywood. She had plenty of stories to tell about the fancy hotel where she had stayed, the restaurants where she had eaten, the producers she had met, and the movie stars she had seen, which turned out to be more than just Channing Tatum.

  Eve was happy to monopolize the conversation, but she stopped now and then to ask about things that had happened in Weatherford while she was gone, and eventually, that brought out in bits and pieces the story of Phyllis and Sam’s investigation into Roxanne Jackson’s murder.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t solved it yet, dear,” Eve said as they all sat in the living room. “You’ve been looking into it for, what, two days now?”

  “It takes time to figure things out,” Phyllis said, then added dryly, “And who knows, one of these days I might not solve it.”

  Eve shook her head and declared, “Oh, no, I don’t believe that. Failure is not an option, as the old saying goes.”