Chapter 19 Daisy Ann

Each time the door to the bar and grill opened Daisy Ann looked up expectantly, but Martin still hadn't shown. He was half an hour late, and she was getting worried. Maybe he'd figured out that the sweepstakes was a scam. The next time the door opened, though, a young guy wearing jeans and a leather jacket walked in. Thin brown hair hung limply at his collar, and part of a multicolored tattoo ran up the side of his neck. He stood there, looking around, and Daisy Ann realized it must be him. They made eye contact, and she waved him over. He walked toward her booth and stopped in front of her.

"Ms. Chambers?"

She nodded. "You must be Martin. Please, have a seat. Care for something to drink?"

He slid into the booth. "Nah, I can't stay long. What do I gotta sign?"

"First things first." She gave him a bright smile and pulled out an envelope. "There's five hundred dollars in this envelope." She opened the flap to let him see. "But I'm not exactly who I said I was."

His eyes narrowed. "What is this?"

"I'm not really from the marketing agency."

He started to get up. "I knew this was a load of crap. Look, lady, whoever you are, I don't need any trouble."

Daisy Ann put a hand up. "Now hold your horses. I'm not here to give you any trouble. You'll get your money. I need some information on a friend of yours, and I was afraid you might not show up if I told you the truth."

He hesitated a few seconds and then slowly slid back down, all the while eyeing the envelope.

"What friend?"

"My father was Jake Crawford. A woman named Amber Patterson murdered him. I'm trying to find out about her background, but I hit a dead end. I reckon you might know something about her." At the mention of Amber's name, Martin paled.

"I don't know any Amber."

"Now that's strange since a piece of paper with your name and number was found among her things." She leaned forward. "I'm willing to give you five hundred to tell me who she really is, and then you'll never hear from me again."

"How do I know you're not with law enforcement or something. Trying to trick me?"

"Have you done something illegal?" She shook her head. "Never mind. Heavens to Betsy, I'm not the police." She pulled some papers from her purse and pointed.

"That's the article about the so-called accident that killed my father. You see," she said, pointing to a photograph in the middle of the article, "that's Amber's picture. She shot my father in the back. Here's his obituary." She pointed again. "There's my name. I'm his daughter." Daisy Ann retrieved her license from her wallet and slid it across the table. "There's proof. I'm just a grieving daughter."

Martin took it all in and blew out a breath. "Shit. Yeah, I know her. She always was a piece of work. What do you want to know?"

"Her real name for starters. I know the real Amber Patterson's dead. My detective found that out."

He ran a hand through his hair. "On second thought, can I get a beer?"

Daisy Ann nodded and flagged down the waitress.

"Gimme a Stella," he said, then looked down at the table, shredding a napkin as he spoke. "Her real name is Lana Crump. We went to school together back in Blue Springs, Missouri. She helped me out when I got in trouble but made a point of reminding me that I owed her. Lana never does anything out of the goodness of her heart. So I had no choice but to return the favor and got her a new identity."

Daisy Ann was taking notes. "How'd you do that?"

He leaned in toward her, lowering his voice. "I work in vital records here. I could get in a lot of trouble if anyone found out…"

"Don't worry. I told you, all I want is information."

"I gave her a copy of a missing girl's birth certificate—Amber Patterson." He stopped when the waitress appeared with his beer, and after she set it down, he took a long swallow and began again. "Lana used it to get a new ID. I also hooked her up with a friend who got her a job. That's the last I saw of her. To be honest, she gives me the creeps."

"Why is that?"

He shrugged. "She was always clever, and she knew it. One step ahead of everyone else. But too big for her britches, you know? Felt like she deserved better. Her family was nice enough, but they didn't have a lot of money. Not the kind of money she wanted, anyway. Dad owned a dry cleaner. She had to work there on the weekends, and she hated it. I left right after high school, so I wasn't around anymore but I heard some stuff."

"What stuff?"

He raised an eyebrow. "She got knocked up by Matthew Lockwood and then accused him of rape. The Lockwoods have lots of money. Poor guy went to prison until Lana's own mother came forward and said she'd been lying. Lana was pissed off that Matthew wouldn't marry her. Then I heard he got stabbed while locked up and is in a wheelchair now." He shook his head. "I definitely wouldn't want to cross her. She called me and said she needed to leave town. That she needed a new identity. There was an outstanding warrant for her in Missouri for lying in court."

Daisy Ann was stunned although she didn't know why anything should shock her about this vile woman. "Did she have the child?"

"Yeah. Left him behind when she bolted. I guess Matthew has him."

"Do her parents still live there?"

"Far as I know."

She pushed the envelope toward him. "Thank you. I really appreciate your help. Can you write down the address of the Lockwoods as well as her parents?" She pushed the pad of paper toward him and handed him her pen.

He took the pen and looked up at her. "I don't know the Crumps' address, but their dry cleaners is downtown on Main Street. Five Star Cleaners."

"Okay. What about the Lockwoods?"

"That address I know by heart. Used to cut their grass." He wrote it down on the pad, then picked up the beer, and drained the bottle.

"Thank you. If I have any other questions, do you mind if I call you?"

He shook his head. "No problem. I'm real sorry about your dad," he said, rising.

Daisy Ann arrived in Blue Springs, Missouri, a day later. Her first stop was the Lockwood residence. She had decided it would be best to show up unannounced and take her chances. Besides which, they had an unlisted number. She pulled up the long driveway to the top of the hill where a white colonial with tall pillars and a generous front porch stood. Daisy Ann guessed it must have four or five bedrooms and be close to four thousand square feet. After driving by the house Amber (aka Lana) had grown up in—a small rancher in a modest neighborhood—she could understand why Amber would have been envious at the time. But it was rather average compared to the wealth Amber now enjoyed being married to Jackson Parrish.

She parked her rental car, walked up the steps to the front porch, and rang the bell. The door was opened by a uniformed woman.

"May I help you?"

Daisy Ann smiled at her. "I'm here to see Mrs. Lockwood."

The woman frowned. "Are you expected?"

Daisy Ann shook her head. "No. But please let her know we have a common enemy. Lana Crump."

"Wait here, please." She shut the door and Daisy Ann waited. Seconds later she was welcomed inside.

"Please come this way; Mrs. Lockwood is on the sunporch."

Daisy Ann followed behind the woman, through the marble-floored entryway, taking in the curved staircase lined with what looked like oil paintings of family members, past the kitchen, one rather in need of updates from its nineties look of white appliances and oak cabinets. They reached the sunporch, which ran the length of the house and faced a nicely landscaped yard that backed up to woods. Mrs. Lockwood sat at a round table in front of a large jigsaw puzzle, one piece in hand as she peered at the puzzle and then fit the part in. She was dressed in a blue knit pantsuit, her short gray hair done in that "once a week at the hairdresser" way, and was painfully thin, frail even. She looked up as Daisy Ann entered.

"Who are you and how do you know Lana?"

So much for social niceties,Daisy Ann thought, an exhortation of her mother-in-law's coming to mind, Good manners are not to be taken on and off like pearls. She extended a hand.

"Hello, ma'am. My name is Daisy Ann Briscoe, and Lana killed my father."

Mrs. Lockwood blanched, then pointed to a chair. "Please have a seat." She looked up. "Frannie, please bring some refreshments."

Daisy Ann took the chair across from the older woman. "I'm sorry if I shocked you, but I don't believe in beating around the bush."

"Neither do I, Ms. Briscoe, so what exactly does this have to do with me?"

"The murder of my father, nothing. But I know about Lana and your son and all that he's suffered because of her. She got away with it. And she got away with killing my father. That is what we have in common, Mrs. Lockwood." Daisy Ann locked eyes with the woman and saw only indifference there.

"What is it that you want from me?" Mrs. Lockwood asked.

"I suppose I'm looking for any information on Lana Crump that will help me prove my father's death was not an accident."

"I don't see how I can help you with that."

"Can you tell me anything about your interactions with the girl?"

"I can tell you that she's a grasping little guttersnipe who lured my son into a sexual relationship. She deliberately got pregnant so that he would marry her. Fortunately, he was too smart to tie himself to such a nasty piece of work, but he paid dearly for it. He is in a wheelchair for life because of her."

"If I can get enough evidence to have her charged, would you be willing to testify at a trial?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't help you. My son is married to a wonderful young woman. He has custody of the child Lana bore, a precious boy whom I dearly love. As much as I want her to pay for what she did to Matthew, I can't risk her coming back into our lives. I wouldn't put it past her to try and get custody of little Matty just for spite, and the crazy courts just might give it to her. They are too often overly sympathetic to the mother. In this case the mother is a monster. No. I won't let that happen. That girl is poison. I won't have her near my family." She rose from her chair. "I think you should leave now."

"But—"

"I have nothing more to say to you. Frannie will see you out." And with that she left the room.

Daisy Ann's teeth were clenched so hard it felt like her jaw might break. The woman was insufferable. She walked to the car feeling deflated, but as she thought about it, she realized that any testimony of Lockwood's would be unhelpful. It was in the past and had no bearing on Jake's murder. The one interesting thing that came out of the visit was the fact that Mrs. Lockwood had no interest in finding Lana/Amber and bringing her to justice. That was good news for Daisy Ann. She wanted Amber all to herself.