Guilt strikes at granger.., p.1
Guilt Strikes at Granger's Store, page 1
Contents
Cover
Also by Terry Shames
Title Page
Copyright
Praise for Terry Shames
About the Author
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Also by Terry Shames
Samuel Craddock mysteries
A KILLING AT COTTON HILL
THE LAST DEATH OF JACK HARBIN
DEAD BROKE IN JARRETT CREEK
A DEADLY AFFAIR AT BOBTAIL RIDGE
THE NECESSARY MURDER OF NONIE BLAKE
AN UNSETTLING CRIME FOR SAMUEL CRADDOCK
A RECKONING IN THE BACK COUNTRY
A RISKY UNDERTAKING FOR LORETTA SINGLETARY
MURDER AT JUBILEE RALLY *
* available from Severn House
GUILT STRIKES AT GRANGER’S STORE
Terry Shames
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
First world edition published in Great Britain and the USA in 2023
by Severn House, an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd,
14 High Street, Edinburgh EH1 1TE.
This eBook edition first published in 2023 by Severn House,
an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd.
severnhouse.com
Copyright © Terry Shames, 2023
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The right of Terry Shames to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-1127-9 (cased)
ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-1126-2 (e-book)
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental.
This eBook produced by
Palimpsest Book Production Limited,
Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland
Praise for Terry Shames
“Suggest for fans of mysteries featuring small-town police forces, including novels by Claire Booth, Steven F. Havill, and Tricia Fields”
Library Journal Starred Review of Murder at the Jubilee Rally
“Craddock’s understated first-person narration, the vivid secondary characters, and a nicely drawn small-town setting … Should win Shames new fans”
Publishers Weekly on Murder at the Jubilee Rally
“A neat character-intensive combo of clever police work and family angst”
Kirkus Reviews on Murder at the Jubilee Rally
“Shames’s award-winning series will appeal to fans of Steven Havill and the late Bill Crider”
Library Journal on A Risky Undertaking for Loretta Singletary
“A surprise ending makes this entry one of Shames’ best in an enjoyable series that raises small-town problems and their solutions to an art form”
Kirkus Reviews on A Risky Undertaking for Loretta Singletary
“Series fans and newcomers with a taste for well-wrought regional mysteries will be rewarded”
Publishers Weekly on A Risky Undertaking for Loretta Singletary
“Readers new to the series will find themselves quickly at home in Jarrett Creek”
Publishers Weekly on A Reckoning in the Back Country
“Shames’s superior sixth Samuel Craddock mystery [is] a timely story with resonance in the era of Black Lives Matter”
Publishers Weekly Starred Review of An Unsettling Crime for Samuel Craddock
About the author
Award-winning author Terry Shames is the author of nine previous Samuel Craddock mysteries. As well as winning the Macavity Award for Best First Novel, A Killing at Cotton Hill was also nominated for The Strand Critics Award. The Necessary Murder of Nonie Blake won the RT Critics Award for Best Mystery. Her books have also been nominated for Left Coast Crime Awards for Best Mystery.
Terry grew up in Texas, and her Samuel Craddock series is set in the fictitious town of Jarrett Creek, which is based on the fascinating people, landscape, and culture of the small town where her grandparents lived. She is a member of Sisters in Crime and on the board of Mystery Writers of America.
www.terryshames.com
ONE
‘Samuel! I need help.’
I’m eating breakfast on Thursday morning and I almost drop my cup of coffee. I’ve been dating Wendy for a couple of years and have never heard her voice so frantic. ‘What’s happened? Where are you?’
‘I’m home. But it’s Allison. Apparently she’s in jail in Mexico. I don’t know what to do. Is there any way you can find out anything?’
There’s always some drama with Wendy’s wayward daughter, Allison. She seems to attract trouble that Wendy has to deal with, usually involving funds. Although I’ll do anything I can to help for Wendy’s sake, in this case I’m not sure what I can do. I’m chief of police, so people think I have all kinds of powers that I don’t necessarily have. But I’ll do my best. ‘OK, let’s take this a step at a time. Where in Mexico?’
‘Monterrey.’
Not far over the Texas border. ‘How did you find out she’s in jail?’
‘She called Jessica.’ Jessica is Wendy’s younger daughter, the one who inherited the good sense. ‘She told Jessica to keep it secret from me, that she didn’t want me to come down there. But of course Jessica told me. She called this morning before she left for work. I think I should go to Allison, but …’ She trails away in a sob.
‘Look, I’m coming over. Sit tight. We’ll figure something out.’ She lives a half-hour away, in Bryan-College Station.
It’s a problem for me to leave. I’m expecting the man who bought my bull to come and pick him up. I keep a small herd of Hereford cows in a lot behind my house, and I’ve bought a new bull that will be delivered next week. I hate to lose this bull. He’s a fine one, in top condition, and has a steady disposition. But you have to rotate in a new bull every few years to avoid genetic problems in the herd.
I call the buyer and tell him something has come up and ask if he can delay his trip for a couple of hours. He’s been an amiable man to deal with and he says that won’t be a problem. ‘Gives me time for another cup of coffee.’ My kind of man.
I also call my deputy, Maria Trevino, to tell her I’ve got to make a quick trip to Wendy’s.
‘Everything OK?’ She likes Wendy.
‘Something has come up.’
Wendy is watching for me and flings open the door before I’m up the steps. She flies into my arms, almost knocking me down. I hug her, feeling the tension in her body.
‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ she says.
I’ve brought my dog, Dusty, who is Wendy’s biggest fan, and Dusty dances around, yelping with delight. Wendy crouches down and hugs him so he’ll calm down. ‘You’re a good boy,’ she murmurs.
She stands back up. ‘Thank you for coming. I hope it didn’t interfere with work too much.’
I put my arm around her and we go inside. ‘I can always make time for you.’
She shivers. ‘I’m about to have a nervous breakdown. I don’t know what to do. What is wrong with that girl? Why is she always in trouble?’
We’ve had this conversation before, and I still don’t have anything to offer. Wendy calls her a free spirit, but I think of her as somebody who needs to grow up. Not that I’d say that to Wendy. Whatever problems they have between them, Wendy is fiercely protective o f her daughters.
We sit at the kitchen table with coffee. Dusty flops at Wendy’s feet. ‘Jessica said Allison was allowed one call, and she called Jessica because she knew Jess wouldn’t yell at her. She said she was in an auto accident and didn’t have any insurance.’
‘That’s not good,’ I say. But it’s not unusual for Allison, who is careless of consequences.
‘She said they’re treating her OK, but that they’re making a big deal out of the accident.’
‘Was someone hurt?’
‘She didn’t say. Samuel, is there anyone you can call to find out what’s going on?’
I’ve been thinking about it on the way over, and it seems like the best idea is for me to call the Department of Public Safety and find out what they recommend. And maybe contact the US Consulate. But it might be better if Wendy did that. And there’s another step she needs to take. ‘You need to talk to a lawyer. Maybe somebody who’s got contacts in Mexico.’
She manages a smile. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. I was just so rattled. But do you think I should go down there? I really want to.’
‘Lawyer first. The lawyer can advise you about that. I wouldn’t run down there too fast. You may be wasting your time.’ She starts to protest, but I take her hand. ‘I know you’re worried, but you need to be calm.’ I doubt her running off to Mexico would help.
‘But why did she call Jessica and not me? I’m her mother!’
‘She might be embarrassed. Did she ask Jessica to help her?’
‘Jessica didn’t say.’
‘Did Allison say whether she was alone in Mexico?’
Wendy bites her lip. ‘I’m so stupid. I didn’t think to ask.’
‘You’re not stupid, you’re upset. Let me call Jessica and see if there’s more.’ More that she didn’t tell Wendy. ‘Do you know a lawyer you can call?’
She looks doubtful. ‘Only the man who handled the probate when James died.’ James was her late husband, who died of a heart attack several years ago.
‘Call the lawyer and see if he can recommend someone.’ That will keep her busy. Unless someone was hurt in the accident, this shouldn’t take too long to sort out.
My phone rings and I see that it’s Maria. Uh oh. She knows where I am and she wouldn’t call if it wasn’t urgent. She’s got enough experience now to handle most things herself.
‘What’s up?’
‘Trouble at the feed store.’
‘What kind of trouble?’
‘Mark Granger was assaulted.’
‘Really, what happened? Is he hurt?’
‘Not too bad. Just roughed up. I thought you’d want to know.’
Melvin Granger, longtime owner of Granger’s Feed Store, had a stroke a few months back that left him bedridden. His son, Mark, moved back from Houston to take care of his daddy and run the feed store. But a few weeks ago, Mark let it be known that he had Big Ideas for the store. After all these years of Melvin Granger running a basic feed store – a place farmers around Jarrett Creek counted on to buy their animal feed, and supplies related to raising stock and agriculture – his son decided to expand the store to include a gift shop, of all things.
I know a few people have been annoyed at the idea of Mark Granger modernizing the store, but I didn’t expect anybody to attack him over it. ‘Did you call the sheriff?’
‘I did, but I told him I didn’t think there was any need for him to come in.’
I finish the call and tell Wendy I have to go. ‘A little trouble in town. Call me as soon as you’ve talked to the lawyer, and I’ll get in touch with the DPS and see what they recommend.’ I whistle up Dusty, and we head back to Jarrett Creek.
Granger’s Feed Store is on the south side of town, right outside the city limits, across from the Best Value Motel. It’s a hulk of a tall wooden building, without any kind of embellishments except its big sign on the roof. Converted from an icehouse many years ago, the original structure was built on high concrete pillars to facilitate loading ice onto wagons, so you have to walk up a short flight of stairs to the store.
I pull in next to Maria’s car and the ambulance. When I get out, I tell Dusty to stay close. Not that he listens. He’ll probably sneak off into the storage room in back and try to scare up a rat.
When I walk up the stairs and into the store, the EMTs are crouched down talking to Mark, who’s propped up against the front counter. He looks dazed, as he well might, considering the cut above his eye.
My eyes sweep the cavernous room, with its shelves loaded with feed supplements, over-the-counter animal medications, cleaning supplies, and paraphernalia for dealing with big animals. Huge, open sacks of feed are propped along the walls and on the ends of the counters. On one wall there are pegs hung with collars, reins, harnesses, and switches.
Maria is standing nearby, next to an angry-looking young woman with her arms crossed. Dusty rushes over to Maria. She’s his favorite person. Apparently sensing that the young woman next to Maria is unhappy, he skirts clear of her. Maria reaches down and fondles his ears, although it’s an absent-minded gesture.
She steps over to me. ‘You made good time. The ambulance just got here.’
Mark groans and shifts his weight. He looks the image of his daddy, medium build with sandy hair and piercing blue eyes. Melvin always wore overhauls, though, and Mark’s in blue jeans with a blue button-down denim shirt.
‘Mark, what happened?’ I ask.
‘It’s pretty obvious he was attacked,’ the young woman with Maria snaps.
I’m surprised at her annoyance. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you.’
‘I’m Mark’s sister, Chelsea.’ She looks like her late mamma – petite and pretty, with silky brown hair that she wears in a ponytail, and intense blue eyes. But she’s pale with distress.
I introduce myself. ‘Chelsea, did Mark tell you who did this?’
She shakes her head, gazing at her brother and holding back tears. She has a stubborn set to her jaw, also like her mamma.
‘Who found him?’
‘I did. I just got into town last night and we were supposed to meet at eight a.m. so he could show me his plans for the store renovation. When I got here, I found him on the floor.’ She squeezes her eyes shut. ‘I told him it was a bad idea to shake things up.’
‘Maybe, but it’s hard for me to imagine someone beating Mark up because they don’t want the feed store to be changed.’
‘Well, somebody is upset about it,’ she says.
Before I can ask what she means, Mark groans again.
‘Let’s get you to the hospital,’ one of the ambulance drivers says. He looks awfully young, but he speaks with authority. ‘They’ll want to make sure you don’t have a concussion.’
‘Fellows, can I speak to the victim for a moment?’
‘We have to go get the cart, so have at it,’ the driver says.
I hunker down next to Mark. ‘Mark, do you have any idea who attacked you?’
‘No.’ His voice is faint. ‘They were waiting inside when I got here. They jumped me from behind. Hit me on the head. When I fell down, they kicked me.’
‘They?’
‘There were two of them. I think.’
‘Can you give me any description at all? Did you see their clothes? Shoes? Were they tall? Short?’
He shakes his head. ‘I almost lost consciousness when they hit me.’
‘How’d you get the cut on your forehead?’
‘Hit it when I fell.’
‘Did your attackers say anything?’
‘Yeah. One said I had no business here. He said “get out.”’
I was wrong thinking that no one would be angry enough to take an aggressive stand against the renovation. ‘Have you had any run-ins with anybody lately? Any threats?’
‘Couple of weird phone calls.’
‘From whom? Men? Women?’
‘Men, but they didn’t identify themselves.’
I have more questions, but the EMTs are back with their portable stretcher and they shoo me away. I tell Mark I’ll come to the hospital later.
After they leave, I ask Chelsea if she’ll come down to my office so I can take a statement.
‘I’ll drive you down and bring you back to your car when you’re done,’ Maria says.
‘Do you have coffee there?’ Chelsea asks. Her expression has softened.
