Part 7 (2/2)

Less Than Frank Lynn Bulock 108440K 2022-07-22

At least now I had an idea why she pushed me. ”That's not true. I've been through some of what you have and I actually wanted to help if I could,” I told her. Right now I felt very sorry that I'd ever tried to offer her any sympathy. ”My husband was murdered last winter. It was a hard time for me, even though I didn't have little kids depending on me for support.”

Tracy deflated a little. She shot a subtle glance at Paula and then looked back at me. ”n.o.body told me that. I'm sorry I pushed you. My emotions ran away with me. Maybe I really just want somebody to blame for some of the rotten stuff that's happened to us.”

”Well, I'm not the person to blame. Ben isn't, either. Detective Fernandez has as good as said that my son isn't a suspect in Frank's murder anymore.”

”I wish he'd give me some idea who is a suspect, then.” Tracy's eyes filled with tears. ”I have enough problems right now without worrying about whether the rest of us are safe. Frankie keeps asking me if whoever killed his dad is going to come to the house. He's sleeping with a baseball bat.”

”That's a terrible worry for a thirteen-year-old. You ought to tell Ray Fernandez about it. Maybe he could talk to Frankie and rea.s.sure him n.o.body's out to hurt any of you.” My emotions were on a seesaw tonight. I'd gone from feeling fear and anger back to sympathy for Tracy Collins again in less than half an hour.

”Until you can do that tomorrow, you can always talk about it all here with us,” Linnette said from behind Tracy. ”And we can pray about our troubles. Now how about we get this meeting started the way it's supposed to run? Everybody find a seat and get comfortable.”

”Certainly,” Paula piped up. ”I'll get settled as soon as I get some coffee. Unless Gracie Lee spilled it all in the commotion.”

I could see Dot shaking her head, eyes rolled toward the ceiling. Leave it to Paula to get totally worked up about a side issue. This was going to be a long evening.

Everybody got coffee and I grabbed a brownie from the goodies set out. We all found a seat without any other disasters and even Corinna settled back down and slept in Heather's arms. It would be nice to be that easy to calm down. A little warm milk, a pat or two on the back and the baby was happy.

Linnette led us in prayer and a short devotion before opening up the floor to those who wanted to talk. As the newcomer Tracy went first. There were a few tears as she told her story. Not all of them were hers.

When she finished Dot raised a hand. ”Go on,” Linnette told her. ”You look like you have something to add.”

”I do.” Dot looked serious again. The last two weeks had taken a toll on my normally-cheerful landlady. Tonight she almost looked like the 71-year-old woman she was.

”Tracy, you said earlier that you were anxious to have more information about Frank's murder. I may be able to tell you something in a few days. Detective Fernandez called me this afternoon while I was getting ready to come here. He wants to meet me at the group home where Candace lives tomorrow morning.”

”What for?” Tracy looked puzzled. ”She wasn't anywhere near your house when this happened, was she?”

”No, she wasn't. But the detective has questions for her anyway. He wants to talk to her and her roommate Lucy Perez, and he wants me present as well as Lucy's sister Estella, her guardian. He has some reason to want to talk to the two of them and I certainly intend to be there.”

The rest of the Christian Friends might not know all the connections between Frank Collins and Candace that made Ray want to question her and her roommate. But I was sure it was going to be a difficult morning for Dot and her daughter. And depending on what her answers to the detective's questions were, I was afraid it might be a bad day for Matt afterward.

Chapter Twelve.

There was no good reason for me to tag along to the group home in the morning. I really wanted to, just to see what Ray Fernandez was going to ask Candace and Lucy. In the end, however, I exercised good judgment and stayed home while Dot and Buck drove over to Camarillo. Once Buck heard about the need for Candace to be interviewed he insisted on going along. It made me feel more at ease to know Candace would have plenty of protection.

Not that she'd need that much protection. I had to admit that Ray was usually tough but fair in his investigations and followed the law to the letter. Since Candace had done absolutely nothing wrong, she wouldn't have any problems with the detective.

As Dot and Buck drove away I finished up the kennel work by myself. Doing all of it for them this morning meant that Buck could take a shower and dress to go with Dot in the time he would have spent feeding dogs. He'd argued with me at first, but I felt it was the least I could do and told him so. In the end he got ready and I cleaned out kennels and fed dogs. The census was relatively low anyway; all the pups had gone to new homes already and a cold snap had moved Dixie, Sophie and Hondo inside.

When the kennel ch.o.r.es were finished I actually went out and spent money on something that wasn't a necessity. That was a rare thing for me right now, but this year I wasn't going to do without a Christmas tree of my own. Even with the limited s.p.a.ce in the apartment I wanted this December to be special.

It would technically be my first Christmas without Dennis. Technically because last year he'd been comatose at the Conejo Board and Care this time of year. I'd gone there often in December and sat by his bedside. The piped-in Christmas carols in the facility sounded dreary, and the decorations looked tired. This year would be a time for my own CDs of upbeat songs and true rejoicing during the season.

Even though I don't have a clue where it's going to get stored in January, I bought an artificial tree. Real trees smell wonderful, but it always makes me sad to think of killing a tree just for a few weeks of it sitting in my living room. Besides, if I am going to keep having Sophie or one of the other dogs in here for company, an artificial tree will be much smarter. I can still remember learning new words when I was six from what my dad said when b.u.t.tons the puppy knocked over the tree trying to drink out of the water well of the tree stand. Dogs and a real tree inside the house just aren't a good mix.

By the time the Morgans got back home I'd lugged the tree home from the discount store and set it up in the corner of my living room. Splurging on one with lights wired on turned out to be a good thing, because there were no working lights in the one box of Christmas decorations I'd carted around since the move from Missouri. The box hadn't been opened since I moved it, because I'd spent last Christmas at Edna's house. She hadn't even considered sharing her Christmas tree for any of my decorations.

I heard Buck's car pull into the garage beneath the apartment as I sorted through ornaments. It was funny to look at things like the preschool treasures from Ben's younger years. I especially like the ornament made from an orange juice can lid with rickrack glued around the edge.

Hanging that one on the tree, I left the rest of the box and went outside to see how the morning had gone at the group home. ”Come over and have lunch,” Dot called from the driveway. ”I put soup in the slow-cooker to warm up before we left. And I want to tell you what went on.”

”Sure.” No sense in turning down a great offer. Food and information are my favorite combination. If Dot had any Christmas cookies baked for dessert, lunch would be perfect.

I went back inside to grab a sweater and my purse so that I could lock up the apartment. Even when I'm only across the way at the ”big house” I don't like leaving things unlocked without anybody there. Rancho Conejo nearly always makes the ”ten safest cities in America” list for places its size, but I still lock my door. I figure it's one less way to lead somebody into temptation if they're p.r.o.ne to thievery.

There were three places set at Dot's kitchen table, each with a cheery red-and-green placemat, crockery soup bowl, matching mug and a dog on the floor beside the chair. I don't think the dogs were supposed to be part of the decor.

”This is your fault,” she said to Buck as she brandished a soup ladle. ”If you didn't feed Hondo from the table none of them would expect anything.”

Buck shrugged and sat down at his place. Once settled he gave a command to the dogs that at least made all of them lie down and stop begging, although there was a tail thump once in a while. Dot filled the soup bowls and reached over to take my hand so that Buck could say grace. I liked the tradition of table prayers with everybody holding hands. It's a little late to start with Ben but I still may give it a shot.

”Heavenly Father,” Buck began, ”we want to thank You for this food and ask You to use it to strengthen our bodies to Your service. Please guide us in what we say and do today, and be with Candace and Lucy and their friends as they go about the rest of their day. Thank You for upholding them and helping them tell the truth this morning, and give the sheriff's department people discernment to sort out the right information. In Jesus's name we pray. Amen.” We echoed the amen and Dot gave my hand a squeeze.

Her soup was delicious and I told her so once I'd had a few bites. ”So how did things go this morning?” I tried to be as casual as possible, but I'm sure Dot could see I was champing at the bit for information.

”I think they went well, wouldn't you say so, Buck?” He nodded in answer to the question and kept eating his soup. ”Detective Fernandez was there when we arrived, but he didn't go inside the house until we went in with him. Lucy's sister couldn't make it, but she'd authorized Kirsten to be Lucy's advocate if she needed one.”

”Was that okay with the detective?” I wondered if he felt he could still proceed, or if it changed his interview any. Neither question was one I was likely to get an answer to from Ray, even if I'd asked him point-blank.

”He said it was the best he was going to get,” Buck said. ”Then he went on and asked his questions while we all sat around their dining room table. Candace and Lucy seemed at ease that way. Not much that he asked them seemed out of the ordinary. Mostly he just wanted to know how they knew Frank, and what kind of contact they'd had with him.”

”How much contact was there?” I figured there would be two answers to this one.

”More than I would have thought,” Dot interjected. ”I knew what Candace would say. She still remembers Frank from when he did the renovations on her apartment out back the first time. She didn't much like him then, and she didn't grow any fonder of him recently.”

”What about Lucy? Overhearing her and Matt at the funeral, it sounded as if she knew Frank.”

”She did. I knew he'd gone into the restaurant where Candace works once in a while, mainly because it's a buffet and it's inexpensive.” Dot frowned. ”What I didn't know is that he seemed to have taken to visiting the movie theater in the same shopping center, where Lucy works. He must have made a pest of himself from what she said.”

”That's putting it nicely,” Buck said. ”Your cousin was always a hound where young women were concerned. No offense to present company.” He spoke the last bit down at Hondo, who whined softly.

Dot shook her head. ”If it had been someone else they were talking about, I would have thought that the girls saying that Frank took them out for ice cream after work and dropped them off at the group home was perfectly innocent. But with him involved I would look twice at his motives.”

”Hopefully Detective Fernandez will, too. I'd hate to think Frank was trying to prey on somebody as defenseless as Lucy.”

Buck got up and got himself another bowl of soup, then sat down heavily at his place at the table, looking serious. ”He may have done more than try, Gracie Lee. The one thing that Lucy said that was the most disturbing was that Frank hit on her, and that was why Matt hit him back.”

”Wow. I guess we know where the detective went after he talked to the girls.” When Buck refilled his bowl more soup sounded good. Now I'd lost my appet.i.te. I didn't want anybody else going through the kind of suspicion that Ben had, or even worse. But it sounded like things were about to get tough for Matt Seavers.

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