One Good Deed(92)

Shaw gazed frantically around the room. “No, but let me check the bathroom for some smelling salts.”

“Yeah, and while you’re at it, why don’t you check yourself for another way of telling a daughter her daddy’s dead as a doornail, Mr. Shaw? I mean, for Chrissakes.”

Shaw looked suitably chagrined and rushed off in search of the smelling salts.

Archer sat down next to the unconscious Jackie, checked her fluttery pulse, and patted her hands and cheeks. When Shaw came back with the smelling salts, he applied them under her nose.

With a jerk she sat up and slowly looked around.

“I’m very sorry about that, Miss Tuttle,” said Shaw nervously. “I should have found a more, um, delicate way to tell you.” He shot Archer a quick glance.

“Somebody murdered my father?” she said, her eyes welling with tears.

“I’m afraid that’s right. Did he have any enemies that you know of?”

She sniffled and said, “The only one I could think of is dead, too.”

“You mean Hank Pittleman?”

Jackie nodded and gingerly put her feet on the floor. She leaned back against the sofa cushion, took out a hankie from her robe pocket, and wiped her eyes and then her nose, while Archer placed a protective arm around her shoulders.

“When did this happen?” she asked.

“Sometime late last night. We’re not sure of the exact time of death, but he’d been dead a while when he was found.”

“Who found him?”

“Bobby Kent. He called the police. It was around one a.m.” He glanced at Archer. “Archer was out there to see your father yesterday, too.”

“I knew about that. He borrowed my car to go.”

“He said he was going out to try to resolve the debt held by Pittleman.”

“I knew that too, and he did. Got three hundred for himself. He told me yesterday.”

“He showed you the money?”

“Yes. And he gave it to me, too. We were going to take it to Marjorie’s today.”

Shaw looked at Archer once more.

Archer said, “Sounds like corroboration to me.”

Shaw turned back to Jackie and said, “Well, what you might not know is that Archer here pilfered the promissory note from Pittleman’s body.”

“Well, he’d have to give that to my father, or he wouldn’t have paid the debt,” said Jackie defensively.

“I know that. But I don’t like people lying to me, even if they are innocent.” Shaw said this last part directly to Archer, who looked suitably chagrined.

“I can understand that,” said Jackie.

“When did Ernestine go home?” asked Archer.

“Around eleven last night.”

“And your father never showed up here?”

“No.”

Archer looked at Shaw. “He has Bobby Kent drive him around in that big Caddy. He would know if Tuttle drove anywhere last night.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” said Shaw surprisingly.

“What do you mean?”

“I talked to Kent last night. He was waiting at the house when we got there, of course.”

“You think he had something to do with it?” blurted out Archer.

Jackie said, “Bobby wouldn’t hurt a flea.”

Shaw held up his hand. “No, he couldn’t have killed Tuttle or driven him anywhere last night.”

“Why not?” asked Archer.

“Because he was out of town picking up a load of farm supplies. He had to get them last night or they were going to ship them back. He left around seven last night, picked up the supplies, and got back to the farm around one. He found the body and called us from the house phone a minute later. I’ve checked on his story and confirmed all of it. I got there around two, and your father had for sure been dead more than an hour. Coroner confirmed that. Kent’s not the killer.”

“But with Bobby out of town, my father would have had to drive himself here,” said Jackie.

“That’s right. Now, Miss Tuttle, you sure you don’t know anyone other than Hank Pittleman who was at odds with your father? Anyone having a grudge?”

“I’ve been gone from my father’s house for a year, Mr. Shaw. So I can’t speak to what happened after that. Now, my father could be a hard man. Even his friends would say that. But I can’t think of anyone who would want to kill him.”

“Would anyone profit from his death?”

“I guess I would. I’m his only child. But he only had the farm. And when I left he was having money troubles.”

“Not anymore,” said Archer. “The man had a safe full of cash and gold bars and such.”

“What!” cried out Jackie.

“Come again?” said a stunned Shaw.

Archer explained about the contents of the safe and how the wealth had come via the companies finding oil on Tuttle’s land. “They’d paid him an advance and he was expecting a lot more money from it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that yesterday, Archer?” exclaimed Jackie, looking at him with a confused expression.

“Your father asked me not to.”

“Why?” she snapped.

Archer looked deeply uncomfortable. “He…he didn’t want you coming home just because he was rich.”