“What?” That was some gossip I’d never even heard.
“Yeah. I guess after Lucy and Mac, Lucy and Elton. So Elton told the sheriff every indiscretion he’s had and his marital problems with Piddy since the whole Bobby Peters thing. On air he said he and Piddy hadn’t had any marital relations since then, and he accused Lucy of giving their affair story to Stella Jane to write since he told Lucy he wasn’t leaving Piddy for her. He claims she knocked Piddy off so she could have him.” Grady shocked me.
One, because of the content, and two, because Grady never gossiped to me.
“Oh my stars.” I stood on the sidewalk stunned. “That’s a whole lot to hear so early in the morning.”
“I know. But I really called to let you know Lucy said Iris had been dragged down to the station, so she wanted the listeners to know that she wasn’t the only one being accused of killing Piddy. Then the callers started calling in about the book and saying she should be ashamed of carrying on like she did. Calling Lucy all sorts of names. I guess the producer took her off the air because they went straight to commercials and are now playing nonstop music.”
“Iris did come over this morning, and that’s why I’d yet to respond to your text. I don’t know if Piddy was murdered or not, but I do know there are a lot of people in that book Stella Jane wrote that could’ve done it.” I truly wanted to tell him to do something about Stella Jane, but the less involved he was, the happier I was.
“I texted because I was worried about Iris, but I guess you already knew.” It sounded like Grady was fiddling with some keys, which told me he was at the school and getting the doors open.
“How is my baby girl?” I couldn’t hang up without asking.
“Julia? She’s good.” He laughed, teasing me. “Of course Clara is fabulous. She is the sunshine of my morning. Mom—” his voice cracked—“I just love that little girl.”
“I know you do, honey. You’re a good dad.” I continued to tell Grady how much of a great father he was so he’d stop thinking he was going to become his dad one day, which he’d said to me before. It only took one time for him to tell me that for it to stick with me.
I headed up the sidewalk to the front of the nursing home, sticking the phone back into my jacket pocket. I was not surprised to see Vince Caldwell.
He glanced up over the top of the newspaper, his eyebrows so bushy they made me smile.
“I was wondering if you were going to be here.” It wasn’t typical for him to be here on a Saturday since he normally played cards on a Friday night. “Where was last night’s card game?”
Ever since the nursing home made them stop playing for money, they moved their poker games off-site to various places.
“We were over at Zeke’s old place. You know the one where he lived before he got married then moved into here?”
“You of all people know that you shouldn’t let Zeke gamble after what he’s been through and his addiction.” I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but I hated that Zeke had been to Gamblers Anonymous and his friends were enabling him.
“Nah. We don’t gamble with Zeke around. We were all reading that book and didn’t want anyone seeing us.” He shook his head. “What a mess Elsbeth’s granddaughter has made. And poor old Elsbeth has taken to the bed, so when Vivian Tillett asked me to send you in this morning, I reckoned I better sit out here and wait for you.” He folded the paper in half and then quartered it before he stuck it up under his arm pit. “Want to take a walk?”
“Sure.” I was a little stunned since I’d never been offered a walk before, just a seat next to him on the porch swing.
“I also figured you’d heard about Piddy Satterly.” His eyes looked at me from up under those brows. I nodded.
Before we could even take our first step from underneath the covered front porch of the nursing home, Angela Hafley drove up in her sheriff’s truck. Vince and I stood watching.
“Mr. Caldwell. Bernadette.” She gave a hard nod and headed inside.
“Must be official.” I nudged Vince with my elbow. “She called me Bernadette.”
Anytime anyone called me by my full name and not Bernie, it was serious.
“Then I think we need to go see what’s going on.” Vince twirled around and headed inside of the building with me in tow.
Vivian Tillett had greeted Angela at the front desk and was looking over what looked like a warrant.
“Mothballs?” Vivian asked. “And you think they came from here?”
“We have reason to believe there are a lot of residents here, namely Elsbeth Clark, that have access to them. She and her granddaughter Stella Jane are tied to the victim.” Angela was all business as she noticed the audience of blue-hairs that’d gathered around her.
“Piddy Satterly is her name. The victim has a name.” Vivian Tillett had taken offense at Angela’s choice of words, which made me take notice. “Fine.” Vivian picked up the phone and whispered something into the receiver before placing it back down. “I can’t leave the post, but I have someone who can take you back to Elsbeth’s room.”
Angela turned around and gave everyone staring at her a pinched smile. She knew that if she wasn’t nice, her job could be in jeopardy since she was an elected official.
“What was that about?” I asked Vivian after Angela had followed one of the orderlies that worked at the nursing home down the hall.
“She said Piddy’s autopsy.” Her voice cracked.
“Are you okay?” I asked when I noticed her eyes had teared up and couldn’t imagine what Angela had said to her.
She shook her head and plucked a tissue from the tissue box sitting on the counter. She motioned for me and Vince to follow her to the office right behind her with the large window. She could still see what was going on in the lobby while we talked.
“Poor Piddy. Angela said her autopsy came back, and she died from naphthalene.” She sniffed and dabbed her eyes.
“What is napth. . .?” I got tongue-tied trying to repeat her.
“Mothballs,” Vince said. “Naphthalene is used in mothballs. And where do you find a lot of mothballs?”
“A nursing home,” I whispered when Angela and her crew came back carrying several bags.
“Right. Naphthalene destroys red blood cells, and when ingested, you’re looking at three to maybe five minutes before death.” Vince eyeballed me, giving me a very good clue.
We took a few steps out of the way and watched as the sheriff’s department continued to come in and out.
“So, whoever killed Piddy had to have disguised it, because it’s not like she’d just eat a mothball.” I tried to think back if Iris had mentioned she’d seen Piddy eating anything, but I couldn’t remember her even mentioning food.
I knew Iris didn’t have any food with her when she stayed behind to confront Piddy. So how did the mothballs get into her system?
“I guess that’s why she wants to see Elsbeth. I guess after Stella Jane and Piddy had that fight at the bookstore in front of the us, Angela tied it back to that.” Vivian shook her head. “I just can’t believe this.”
“They had a fight? In public?” I asked, knowing I’d overheard Stella Jane on the phone telling her publisher she wanted Piddy gone.