Chapter Twelve
I finished writing the report and was pondering while staring at my blank computer screen. Because that’s what diligent private investigators do. We ponder. It may seem to others like we were just fiddle-fartin’ around but we are actually pondering. I was sure Cheri thought I was asleep since I had my sunglasses on to block the glare from the sun. How the sun turned the corner to blind me is beyond me. Must have been the way it reflected off the floor in front of my office.
My phone rang, making me jump a foot out of the chair I was pondering so hard. I grabbed the phone and juggled it around finally getting it to my ear before it hit the floor. “Hello?” Dang. That really hurt my head.
“Ms. Babineaux, this is Sergeant Kawasaki from the Gardener Police. How are you feeling this morning”? Sgt. Kawasaki, the doubting policeman from Gardener. I wonder if his first name was Thomas.
“I’m fine,” I said emotionlessly. He probably didn’t like emotions since he looked as though he had none.
“Good, good glad to hear it.” It sounded as though he couldn’t care less. “I’m calling to find out if you could come in to sign your statement about the explosion.”
No. I cannot come in today. I have a throbbing headache. “Yes, I’ll be there as soon I can. I’m leaving now.”
I have to get this over with. My list. The best thing for me to do is leave it in my desk. It may be obstructing an investigation, but I’m just narrowing down the list before giving it to the proper authorities. I could always say I’d get it to him ASAP, then get busy and forget. I started for the door and then thought about my .22. Yeah. That was what I needed for Thomas to find. Even though I have a permit, cops didn’t seem to like it when the average citizen was armed. They wanted to be the only ones with weapons. Unfortunately, the bad guys usually had bigger and better ones.
I knocked on Cheri’s door and told her I was leaving but would be back for lunch.
I dug my phone out of my purse and called Cody to let him know I was going to Gardener to sign my statement. I don’t know why I called him; I guess I thought he should know where I was in case they arrested me for being flippant. Can one get arrested for being flippant? I bet they have one of those handy codes for that like 1-2-3, because it takes someone who couldn’t count past three to know one shouldn’t be flippant with someone who carried a gun. Legally.
Cody answered, laughing. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Was he laughing at something I did? The list was endless. “Hey Chloe, how’re you feeling this morning?” Obviously, he didn’t know about last night, and I wasn’t going to shed any light on that subject. It would probably make my eyes water more.
“Good, I’m good. I’m just calling you to let you know I’m on my way to Gardener to sign my statement. If you get that one phone call, come bail me out,” I said rubbing my forehead. Oh, the sun was bright today; even with sunglasses, I was blinded.
“You won’t get arrested, but call me when you’re done. I want you to come by here and tell me about it.” He was still smiling; I could tell by his tone of voice.
“Why are you in such a good mood this morning?” If Rick told him anything about last night he wouldn’t be laughing, he’d be pissed. And not just a little.
“Me and Rick are waiting for a perp to come to work so we can have a nice and easy talk and we started talking about our military days.” He laughed again and said, “I swear, Chloe, you should’ve joined up, you’re just what we needed. Comic relief.”
“Are you talking about me?” I was the one starting to get pissed. “What are you telling him? In case you forgot, I’m the one that came mighty close to having my body parts blown across Central Louisiana. And it doesn’t sound like you needed me to join the Marines for comic relief. You had some good times without me being there.”
“That’s true; we did have some good times. But you were almost hurt which makes all of your other exploits funny. How do you survive all the things you do?” He asked incredulously. I could hear laughter in the background. That was always a good way to run a man off. Let him talk to Cody about me.
“I’m good at what I do. And would you stop telling stories about me when I’m not there to take up for myself? I’ll call you later. Maybe.” And maybe it was a good thing Rick was talking to Cody. I mean, that way he knew about me and I wouldn’t have to get hurt when he decided he couldn’t put up with a private investigator girlfriend. I sure as hell couldn’t put up with a private investigator boyfriend. Bad hours and skirting the law. One of these days I was going to find my ass in jail. Bad analogy. Putting ass and jail together in the same sentence was not a good thing.
Speaking of my ass in jail, I called Petunia. Jail made me think of my doubting Thomas, which made me think of the case and Petunia. It was scary how my mind worked.
She answered on the third ring out of breath. “Hello?”
“Hi Petunia, it’s Chloe. Did I catch you at a bad time?” Man, I hope she was just watering her flowers.
“No, it’s fine. I was just watering my flowers. Anything new?” She asked hopefully.
YES! Oh, I’m good. “No, not really. I’m calling to find out if anyone on the list you gave me would…I don’t know...try to kill me?” I wanted to sound casual, but I didn’t think I pulled it off.
“What? Kill you? Are you okay?” I guess I didn’t pull it off.
“Yes, I’m fine. Did you hear about that explosion in Gardener?” If she didn’t read the paper or watch the news, then she probably didn’t know, unless she was the one shooting at me. I had to think about that. I started my truck and pulled out into traffic. It was rush hour, so it was a little heavier than usual.
“Oh, my God.” She sounded horrified. Either she was a good actress, or she didn’t have anything to do with the shooting. “Were you there? Were you hurt? What happen? I thought it was a gas leak.”
“It became a gas leak when someone shot the tank and gas leaked out,” I explained to her.
“Oh, my God. Oh no…Maybe you should quit looking for the painting. It’s not that important. I wanted to know where it was but not enough for someone to try to…I don’t know who would do that. Some of my kin might not be upstanding citizens, but I don’t think even they would …you know.” She couldn’t say the word kill. I can’t blame her. I don’t like using the words kill and me in the same sentence either. She hesitated then asked, “Are you gonna continue? If you are, I’ll gladly pay but please don’t risk your life for it.”
“Yes. I’m gonna continue looking because now I’m mad. And Petunia, I don’t plan on risking my life. I just wanted you to know what was going on. I’m on my way to Gardener to sign a statement so I might not get a lot done on your investigation today.”
“That’s fine. You take care of yourself. Bye.” She sounded relieved and didn’t let me say bye. What was it about this painting that made people shoot at me and make Petunia want me to stay on the case?
I stopped and bought a Coke Zero. I arrived at the Gardener Police Department, spoke to the officer at the front desk and he called Sgt. Kawasaki. Of course, he had me wait. No problem, I needed a nap anyway. My name was called, and I glanced at my watch. I had a good fifteen-minute nap, so I was hoping my mascara hadn’t run and given me raccoon eyes.
I entered a room with a few desks. Gardener is not a large metropolis, so I wasn’t real surprised.
Sgt. Kawasaki called me over. “Ms. Babineaux, I’m glad you made it. Rough night?” he asked, looking closely at my eyes. Oh man, I had raccoon eyes, didn’t I?
“No, last night was easy. It was this morning that was rough,” I said and slightly smiled.
“Yes. I can imagine,” he said, still looking hard at me. His Asian face didn’t show a lot of emotion, but he didn’t look like he had a great sense of humor in the first place. This was going to be a long day. He spread his arm out to the side and asked, “Do you mind if we go into a room that’s less noisy?”
I looked around. There were only t
hree desks, and only one other was occupied. Wow, that police officer must get really cranked up at times to make him want to go someplace less noisy. I pointed at the occupied desk with my head and asked, “He gets rowdy, does he?”
He slightly smiled and said, “There are times.” He waved his arm in the direction he wanted me to walk and asked, “Do you mind?”
I shook my head which was feeling better. I could move it without it feeling like it was going BOOONG! Now it just went, bong. I grinned and said, “Let the good times roll.” He rolled his eyes.
We walked into an interrogation room. This did not bode well. I did take advantage of the mirror. Good, no raccoon eyes. He pulled a seat out for me, and I sat down with him across from me.
“Ms. Babineaux, I’m gonna tape this do you mind?” I shook my head no, and he continued, “Why were you in Gardener?” No small talk, down to business. Of course, he gave his name, my name, the date and time before proceeding with the first question.
“I was hired to locate a painting. It had been in the family for years, but no one seemed to know where it was. At least they weren’t admitting to knowing where it was, so I was out asking questions,” I said a lot more confidently than I felt. This man was scaring the bejeezus out of me.
“Who was the client?” he asked taking notes.
I took a deep breath and cocked my head to the side, and said, “I really don’t have to tell you, but I’m going to anyway. Petunia Andreneaux and she lives in Alexandria.”
“Was it stolen at some point? Did she want it back?”
“No, it wasn’t stolen. Petunia…can you imagine having a name like Petunia?” I asked, and he stared at me with no reaction. Not a great conversationalist.
“Anyway, Petunia told me if some other family member had it she didn’t want it back. She wanted to make sure it was safe. I don’t know what is so da…dang important about this painting but clearly someone thinks it is. Unless someone thought I was a bill collector.” I hesitated. “Do you think they thought I was a bill collector?” I didn’t know why, but that made me feel better than to think someone shot at me because of the painting.
“I don’t know. Have you talked to Mrs. Andreneaux about the explosion?” he asked still writing in his handy dandy notebook.
“Yes, I did just before coming here. I don’t know why I didn’t call yesterday. Anyway, she claims she didn’t know why anyone would be shooting at me.”
“You believe her?” Did the man ever blink? He made me want to confess to the shooting, and I was sprawled on the ground when he arrived.
“Yes, I do. Petunia either a great liar or she really doesn’t know any reason why someone would shoot at me.” I shook my head and said, “Personally, I don’t think she wants to believe any of her relatives would be low life enough to want to kill me.”
“Do you believe one of her relatives shot at you?”
“Sergeant…is your name, Thomas?” I asked.
“No,” he said with a blank face and didn’t add to it. I wonder if his wife calls him Sergeant.
“Oh, okay. Anyway, we all have relatives we don’t tell anyone we’re related to.” I smiled and added, “I bet we could really go on about some of our relatives, huh?” His eyes narrowed and looked scary, so I said quickly, “I have no idea who would be shooting at me. If I knew I would gladly tell you or at least hint around to it, if not actually tell you,” I said raising a shoulder.
“Did you know there was a body inside the house?” he asked with a calm even tone.
“What? No! I didn’t know that. How could I have known that? The door was locked! I couldn’t even see through the windows! Who was it? Was it a man or woman? How did he…she die?” I was not calm. I was flabbergasted. I hate it when my flab gets gasted. I held my hands to my head. I really should not have gotten flabbergasted. If I didn’t calm down my brain matter would be strewn all across the room.
“The owner of the house, Jason Tamereaux, must have come home and surprised a robber.” How can he be so calm? I was freezing and breaking out in a sweat.
“Did Mrs. Andreneaux give you a list of names?”
“Yes. Yes, she did,” I said with an equally blank face. I think it was a blank face; I was still trying to breathe. I was pretty sure it was far from blank. I sat with my head in my hands taking deep breaths and staring at the desk. I finally got myself together enough to say. “I know what you mean by not wanting to say Petunia. I mean, she’s a grown woman. It was probably cute when she was a child but now…I don’t know. Maybe she should go by Tunia or Tunie.”
We stared at each other for a while before he asked, “Well?”
“Oh, I don’t know, I think I like Tunie best.” His eyes narrowed, his face turned a dull red, and he looked as if he were going to start calling me names. “Oh…you want the list. I don’t have it with me.” I gave him a closed mouth smile. My heart was beating like I had just run a three-minute mile. He could probably see it beat in my neck.
He shook his head closed his eyes and said, “Now I know why someone shot at you.”
I narrowed my eyes and growled, “Are you implying something? I think you’re implying I’m gunshotable. Don’t look at me like that’s not a word.”
Sgt. Kawasaki took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and asked, “Could I look in your purse?”
“Yep, you can even look in my truck.” I grinned not so innocently.
He dumped my purse on the table. Wallet, brush, mints, ponytail holders, library card, oh that was where that was, old receipts, everything right there on the table. I was glad it wasn’t that time of the month. It was embarrassing when certain things go flying out of my purse. Everything was on the desk except Petunia’s list. And my .22. I smiled, shrugged my shoulders and asked, “Shall we take a walk out to my truck now? It needs to be cleaned out as well.”
“No. Can you wait until this was typed up so you can sign it before leaving? I’d hate for you to come all this way again,” he said with narrowed eyes. I didn’t think he liked me. At least he didn’t throw me in jail with all the other flippant witnesses.
I smiled a real smile this time and said, “Gladly.”