“Perfect,” Gertie said. “No way Walter is going to say no—not to the two of you.”
An hour later we were standing in front of Walter at the cash register in the General Store and he was shaking his head.
“I’m not getting in the middle of this,” he said.
“The middle of what?” Ida Belle asked. “You don’t even know why we’re asking.”
“And I don’t want to know,” he said. “And as long as I don’t get involved, then I never have to answer to my nephew about why I got my nose in with you three over a law enforcement issue.”
“Look,” I said. “This isn’t what Carter is looking into. It’s something else. Yes, it involves Molly but not her death.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Then what does it involve?”
“Fraud,” I said. “And unless you want to have to explain everything to Carter, then that’s probably all you want me to say.”
He stared at me for several seconds, then sighed. “I just got a load of toilet paper in that I need to get off pallets in the back. I don’t suppose you three can watch the store while I do that? If anyone comes in wanting a copy of an order for the last week, they’re in the box under the counter. I haven’t had a chance to file them yet.”
“Thank you,” I called to his retreating back.
“Didn’t do anything,” he grumbled as he went.
I jumped behind the counter and pulled out the box, then shoved a stack of receipts at Ida Belle and Gertie. We all started flipping through them as quickly as we could, praying that no one needed to buy something and wondered what the heck we were doing.
“Got it!” Gertie yelled and handed me the receipt.
I pulled out my phone and took a quick shot of it just as the bell above the door jangled. Ida Belle shoved the receipts at me and I used my arm to pull them all in the box, barely getting it back under the counter before Celia stepped up, frowning.
“Don’t tell me Walter has left you in charge,” she said.
“As a matter of fact, he has,” I said. “Is there something I can help you with—prune juice maybe? You have that blocked look.”
“How about the jaws of life?” Gertie said. “We can get that stick out of her butt.”
Celia turned beet red and tried to reply but only managed a sputter. Finally she whirled around and headed out of the shop, slamming the door behind her. Walter appeared a couple seconds later and I gave him the side-eye.
“You knew Celia was coming in, didn’t you?” I asked. “That’s why you let us dig through the receipts.”
Walter grabbed a rag and started polishing the cash register. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Gertie grinned. “Well played.”
“Do you ladies need any groceries to go with your illegal activities?” he asked.
“No, I think we’re good,” I said. “We have illegal booze, Cuban cigars, and the usual store of dynamite.”
“You have Cuban cigars?” he asked.
I waved a hand in dismissal. “You wouldn’t be interested in breaking the law. Forget I said anything.”
“The law isn’t exactly up-to-date on certain things,” Walter said.
Gertie shook her head. “So easily converted. Today, it’s cigars. Tomorrow, it will be knockoff purses and hand grenade displays in the store windows.”
Walter drew himself up straight. “I would never sell purses.”
“Thanks, Walter,” I said as I headed for the door. “We’ll let you get back to business.”
As soon as we climbed into Ida Belle’s SUV, I pulled up the photos and showed them the signatures.
“They don’t match,” Gertie said. “Not even close.”
“Nope,” I said. “The signature on the insurance policy is fat and loopy. Molly’s signature on the receipt is narrow and has points at the top and bottom of the letters.”
“I know people’s handwriting differs at times,” Ida Belle said, “but this isn’t even close.”
“So what the heck is going on?” Gertie asked.
“I’m not sure,” I said.
“But you have a guess,” Gertie said.
I nodded. “My guess is that Silas got a fake license for Molly and had someone pose as her to take out the policy.”
“If he’s in with bookies, they’d know people who could get that done,” Ida Belle said.
“But he’d have to pay the premiums,” Gertie said. “And he was broke.”
“Maybe he didn’t plan on being broke for very long,” Ida Belle said.
“But Kent ID’d Molly from that photo you showed him,” Gertie said. “And his description was dead on.”
“Was it?” I asked. “He seemed mostly taken in by the hair and that’s the easiest part to fake. So a large, tall woman with a wig could pull it off. Kent didn’t strike me as the most observant person.”
“You think everyone over the age of forty is half blind,” Gertie groused.
“No,” I said. “I think you need to up your prescription. I think Kent was so distracted by the hair and her size that he probably didn’t look closely at anything else.”
“But who would Silas get to help him?” Gertie asked. “He hates everyone and the feeling appears to be mutual.”
“I didn’t say it had to be a friend,” I said. “Like Ida Belle said, given his gambling habits, he probably had access to all types of people needing a quick payout.”
“I can’t see him going to all that trouble unless he knew something was going to happen to Molly soon,” Gertie said.
I nodded. “He definitely had motive and since we know he was on-site that afternoon, he had opportunity.”
“So what’s the problem?” Gertie asked.
“I’m stumped on the how,” I said. “And unfortunately, Dexter and Marissa are a much neater fit in the how slot.”
Gertie sighed. “You know, on the television shows, no one could have done it. In our case, everyone could have done it. I’m not sure which is worse.”
Ida Belle nodded. “I hate to sound like Gertie but what now?”
I stared down Main Street and blew out a breath. “I don’t know. Maybe I need to sit on it a while.”
“Then I’ll drop you off,” Ida Belle said as she pulled away. “I’m going home and washing my SUV. A real wash.”
“I probably have some canning to do,” Gertie said.
“No, you don’t,” Ida Belle said. “It’s hot as Hades and everything is dead. You won’t be canning for months. What you will be doing is helping me wash my SUV.”
“But I hate washing cars,” Gertie said.
“How would you know?” Ida Belle asked. “You’ve never washed yours.”
“I’ve washed my car,” Gertie protested.
“Who was president when it happened?” Ida Belle asked.
“Morgan Freeman,” Gertie said.
“Good movie,” I said and Ida Belle gave me a cutting look.
“What?” I asked. “It was a good movie.”