A Grid For Murder Part 22

"That's not a question, it's a statement."

"So it is. How about this, then? What would you say if I told you I have reliable witnesses who tried to get haircuts ninety-five minutes apart on the day that Joanne was killed, and they were turned away by your 'closed' sign?"

"I'd say they were either lying, or badly mistaken," Greg said, though it was clear that he was shaken by my statement.

"Fine. If you want to play it that way, you win. I'll call Zach, and he and Captain North can ask you the same thing. They might have to use their flas.h.i.+ng lights and siren when they come, though, what with traffic being so heavy and all." We both looked out the broad window and could see an empty road. "What's that kind of show going on out front going to do for your business? You might be the only barber in town, but Asheville's not that far away."

Greg looked at me in disgust before he finally said, "Fine, I admit it. I was gone for more than an hour that day."

"Were you in Asheville?"

"Sorry, I was at home on my couch," he said. "Before I had lunch, I stretched out for a few minutes. I fell asleep, Savannah, and I never left Parson's Valley. I didn't kill Joanne."

"I don't suppose anyone saw you at home."

"I'd love to be able to tell you that my girlfriend was with me, but she was being murdered in Asheville at the time."

"But you can't prove that you didn't do it yourself," I said.

"You're right, I can't. I thought only guilty people needed alibis."

"Why on earth would you think that?" I asked. "An alibi is what keeps you from being arrested for murder."

That got his attention. Greg sat up in his barber chair. "Are you saying they're going to arrest me?"

"I don't know what the police have planned," I said, which was about as true a statement as I'd ever made in my life. "All I know is that you're on their list of suspects."

"So are you," he said.

I nodded. "That's why I'm trying to find Joanne's killer. Why aren't you looking, too?"

"I'm just a barber," he said as he waved his hand around the shop. "I cut hair. It might not be all that exciting, but it's what I know how to do."

"I'm a puzzlemaker," I said, "but that's not keeping me from digging into Joanne's murder."

"Well, maybe we all don't have cops around town backing us up. All I know is that no one saw me while I was at home taking a nap. I dropped my car off at Carl's service station for an oil change that morning before work, and then I picked it up on my lunch hour and drove straight home. My car sat in my garage until I woke up, but I can't prove that, either." He stood up as he added, "Now if you don't mind, I'd like you to leave. Either call your husband, or clear out."

"Wait a second," I said.

"I'm not kidding, Savannah. I'm done with being grilled by you," he warned, and I could tell by his voice that he was dead serious.

I couldn't let him brush me off now, though. "Do you want me to go, even if I can find a way to clear your name?"

Greg had every right to look confused at me as he asked, "How could you possibly do that?"

"The last time I had Carl change my oil, he took down the odometer reading of my car. I remember it, because he made a fuss about forgetting it at first, and he wouldn't let me leave until he had written it down on my receipt. Did he get your mileage as well?"

"I have no idea," he said. "The receipt's in the glove box. Go ahead and see for yourself."

"You're coming with me," I said. "Grab your keys and let's go look."

After Greg unlocked his vehicle, I reached in and opened the glove box. The receipt was exactly where he'd said it would be. I checked the mileage myself, not even letting Greg touch the receipt he'd gotten from Carl, so there could be no question that he hadn't tampered with it. After that, I looked at his odometer and saw that he couldn't have driven to Asheville and back, not if that mileage was correct. There was less than four-tenths of a mile added to the odometer since the oil had been changed last.

"I don't know what to say," Greg said after I called my husband and told him what I'd found. He was on his way to confirm what I'd discovered, and Greg and I were both waiting in his car. "Thanks, Savannah. I'm sorry I was so rude to you." He grinned at me and added, "I'd offer you a free haircut, but like I said, I don't cut women's hair."

"How about giving Zach one, instead?" I asked. "He's been looking a little s.h.a.ggy lately."

"It would be my pleasure," he said.

My husband showed up, but he was without Captain North.

As I greeted him, I asked, "Where's your partner in crime?"

"She's on a conference call with Raleigh," he said. "They're asking her for a progress report, and I don't think her supervisors are all that happy about what she's got to tell them. We'll be doing her a favor if what you told me was accurate."

"You don't doubt me, do you?" I asked as I handed him the receipt.

"Of course not," he replied as he checked the odometer reading himself. I would have expected nothing less from him. "Okay, we're good here."

Greg clearly couldn't believe that it was going to be that easy. "Is that it? Am I off your suspect list?"

"I'm going to show this to the investigating officer, but if everything checks out, you should be off the hook."

"It's not for nothing, either. You get a free haircut for my hard work, Zach," I said.

"Thanks," he said as he ran his hand through his hair, "but I'm not allowed to accept it."

"You're not on anyone's payroll," I said.

"No, but I'm volunteering my time with the police force, and that amounts to the same thing in my eyes." He looked at Greg and asked, "Is it okay if I borrow your car for a few minutes?"

Greg tossed him the keys. "Be my guest."

He went back inside the barbershop, and I asked Zach, "Why did you do that?"

"I need to run over to Carl's. Care to tag along?"

"You bet," I said.

I slid into the pa.s.senger seat, and my husband started the car and headed for the garage. I said, "We're going to check the garage's paperwork and make sure Greg's receipt is valid."

My husband was holding back on me; I could tell it by the way he spoke. "That's right."

"And then what?"

"What do you mean?" He was smiling at me, always a good thing as far as I was concerned.

"You didn't need his car to check his paperwork. All you had to have was his receipt."

Zach smiled. "You're right about that."

I thought about that for a second, and then I said, "But you do need his car if you're going to see if anyone fiddled with the odometer."

"That's good work, Savannah. I'll make a detective out of you yet."

I grinned at him. "Funny, I thought I already was one."

"You are, and don't let anyone tell you any different."

We got to Carl's, and after a quick check of the records and a look under the hood, he made his p.r.o.nouncement. "The paperwork's accurate, and the cable hasn't been messed with."

"Are you certain?"

"I sure am. Do you mind telling me what this is all about? What's Greg been up to?"

"Just cutting hair, as far as I know," Zach said.

We headed back to the barbershop, and I said, "So, we can officially cross another suspect's name off our list."

My husband wasn't about to give in that easily. "He could have borrowed someone else's car, or for all we know, he might have another vehicle stashed somewhere else."

"So, go ahead and check out all of the other angles, but as far as I'm concerned, he's not guilty."

Zach shrugged. "That works for me. You're making a real dent in this case, aren't you?"

"I'm doing my best."

We pulled up to a stoplight, and Zach asked, "Who do you think might have done it now? Are there any particularly good candidates?"

I thought about it as the light turned green and he started driving again. I said, "As far as I know, it could be Harry, Laura, Hannah, Barbara, or Rob."

"Or someone we don't even know about yet," he said as he pulled into the empty parking lot.

"That kind of thinking doesn't do me any good," I said. "I have to a.s.sume that we wouldn't have gotten that note if we hadn't talked to the murderer at least once during our interviews."

Zach nodded as we got out and he locked the car. "That's the rational way to think about it. Any ideas on where you're going next?"

"I don't have a clue," I said with a grin.

"That's my girl," he said. "I'll drop the car keys back off with Greg, and then I need to get to the police station. I have a report to make."

"See you at home," I said as I got into my own car.

Zach didn't need me for the rest of the day, but that didn't mean I was finished. It had been a productive time, and I hated to stop when there was a single chance that I might be able to wipe someone else's name off my list before the sun set again. As things stood now, I still had a substantial list of suspects. There was an outside chance that one of the names I'd struck from my group might be guilty, but if that turned out to be the case, it was going to be up to Zach and Captain North to uncover it.

I WAS DRIVING TO BARBARA'S FOR A CUP OF COFFEE WHEN I noticed Hannah's craft store on the right. On impulse, I pulled in and decided to pay her a visit. It had started to rain, more of a drizzle than a downpour, but from one look at the sky, it was a harbinger of things to come. This wasn't a warm, bath-temperature rain like we sometimes got in summer; it was a cold-shower storm that left everyone in its wake s.h.i.+vering.

I grabbed my umbrella from the backseat and walked into Hannah's shop. She had a stand near the door, and I slid my umbrella into the rack and fought an involuntary s.h.i.+ver.

If Hannah was displeased about seeing me, she didn't show it. "Have you decided to get a little crafty today, Savannah?"

"I'm thinking about it," I said. "What do you suggest?"

She looked around her shop, and then said, "We've got a new line of card supplies you might like. I especially like the new kits that come with lots of options in stationery."

"That sounds good. Let's see what you've got."

As she showed me the cardstock, I asked, "Could I ask you something, Hannah?"

"Certainly," she said.

"It's about Joanne Clayton."

I could see her tense up at the mention of Joanne's name. "I'm not sure what I can say that I haven't already covered with you before."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to keep harping on it, but the police are stepping up their investigation, and it's hard to tell what's going to happen. I'm just trying to eliminate as many suspects as I can."

She sighed deeply, and then said, "Go on, then, if you must."

"You told Rob and me when we were here together that you were running errands on the morning that Joanne was poisoned. Did those errands happen to be in Asheville, by any chance? If they weren't, I can tell Zach, and he can take you off the police's list of suspects."

"I would if I could, but unfortunately, I cannot."

I felt a twinge of excitement by the news that she'd been in town the day of the murder. "Did you see Joanne that day when you were there?" I asked. It was important to get my most essential questions out while I had the chance. Knowing Hannah, anything I asked could set her off, and I didn't want to get thrown out of her shop until I'd covered the most necessary questions.

"No," she said with a shake of her head, "but I have no idea how I might go about proving it. I never realized what a precarious position I was putting myself in when I went there." Hannah put down the card packet she'd been showing me, and then stared out the window at the ever-increasing rain. "It's going to flood if this keeps up. I can't believe how much moisture we've had lately."

"It's been wet," I agreed, but I couldn't let myself get distracted. "Were you anywhere near Pack Square that day?"

"I drove past it, of course. It's difficult to go anywhere in downtown Asheville without pa.s.sing that obelisk."

"That's true enough. It's really too bad we can't pin your timeline down better than that."

Hannah frowned. "I'm sorry I can't offer you anything more specific, and I'm even more saddened that I decided to go into Asheville that day, leaving me without a better alibi than what I have. All I can say is that I was back here in Parson's Valley in time to open at nine a.m."

"It was really that early? Can you prove it?"

Hannah nodded. "I can. Edith Andrews was waiting for her new Christmas tree candle mold, and I had special-ordered it for her. She can vouch for me." Hannah said it with a hint of triumph in her voice.

"I'll tell Zach," I said. He'd told me that the poison had been administered between eleven and two, so if Hannah was telling the truth, she was in the clear.

When I told her the news, she nodded happily. "I'm glad we cleared that up." Almost as an afterthought, she added, "Savannah, if you're looking for suspects, I hope Barbara Brewster has made your list."

"Barbara? Why would she kill Joanne?"

Hannah stared out the window again a few seconds before speaking. "There's something buried deep between them, a bone of contention that's been there for years, though I don't know exactly what it might be."

"How do you know there's a secret, then?"