Southern Sass and a Battered Bride

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Southern Sass and a Battered Bride Page 14

by Kate Young


  “What you’re saying is you think Alex, the guy we’ve known our entire lives and I dated, suddenly decides he’s going to enact a giant screw-you to the island by robbing it, killing his pregnant new bride in front of a massive crowd, and then pin the murder on his ex-girlfriend and escape with millions?”

  “If she’s dead.”

  I pursed my lips.

  “Okay. When you say it like that, it doesn’t sound so plausible.” Sam’s brows furrowed. “I have a bad feeling things are going to get ugly.”

  Things are already ugly. I chewed on my bottom lip as three more tickets were hung and Hannah called me from the back. She sounded frazzled. We had a big pastry order to deliver in the morning. Sam and I shared a loaded glance, both of us feeling the weight of what was to come. We understood island politics and both knew this would be an issue for our business if it wasn’t resolved soon. I couldn’t wait to be fist-deep in dough, where I could get some stress relief and do my best thinking.

  Hannah was covered in powdered sugar and standing over the commercial mixer with a bewildered look as she precariously balanced a large bag that had torn awkwardly down the side. I rushed to help her heft the large bag back to the stainless-steel work top. White powder went everywhere, but we managed to salvage most of the bag. “Tyler!” I called our dishwasher and kitchen cleaner for help.

  The skinny boy came running. “Yeah?” He took one look around the kitchen and nodded. “I’m on it.”

  “Thank you,” Hannah and I said in unison.

  “Where’s Jena Lynn?” I poured the remaining sugar into a huge mixing bowl.

  “Her sitter called and said Olivia is running a temperature and pulling on her ears. Poor baby is inconsolable.”

  Jena Lynn usually called or texted when she had to leave. I washed my hands and checked my cell in my pocket. Sure enough, I had a text containing a huge apology and strict instructions to call her later with an update on what happened.

  I texted her back with all-is-fine tidings and that I had things under control at the diner. The last thing she needed was to be worried about me when little Olivia was unwell.

  Time to get to work. I still had a business to run. “What have you finished?”

  Hannah showed me what on the order had been completed, and I rushed to begin the four baker’s dozens of our good-morning muffins. They were a big hit with the health-crazed folks on the island. The muffins were packed with grated carrots, chopped apples, raisins soaked in vanilla, coconut, and pecans. The mixer was whisking the eggs, vanilla, and oil while I sifted the flour, Sugar In The Raw, baking soda, and salt into a large bowl. I worked on autopilot as I wondered what was going on at the bank. The robbery wasn’t what I’d typically think of. A masked man hadn’t burst through the doors with a sawed-off shotgun and demanded the tellers to empty their registers and open the safe.

  Sam had been right about one thing: The robbery did sound like a theatrical-style crime, which meant someone had to be a genius. Still, that theory had crater-sized holes, like Lucy being killed. Honestly, if someone wanted to rob the bank, timing it after Lucy suspiciously died would be an ideal time. When law enforcement was all distracted. I needed to take a look at her former cottage rental.

  * * *

  My favorite Realtor, Tara Reynolds, looked stunning standing in front of the small cottage on the west side of the island where the tourists rented, wearing a flowing tan satin bell-bottom pantsuit and the highest heels I’d ever seen. Her attire made me feel a little self-conscious in my Peach Diner uniform of khaki shorts and a peach polo.

  I smiled as I reached the porch. “Thanks so much for doing this for me.”

  “You’re lucky you caught me. I was showing a place at the end of the beach.” She unlocked the door and it swung open. “Luckily, the tragedy with Lucy and Alex hasn’t hurt tourism or development. Weird how she just vanished.”

  I nodded as she moved aside, thankful she hadn’t heard about the discovery of the body yet. “Do you handle rentals as well?”

  “I do. Long-term rentals, anyway. Lucy was a good tenant. Paid on time and never a complaint about her from the neighbors.”

  The house, though a basic sea of beige with tropical accents and dated floral furniture, was spick and span. “She ever have anyone else on the lease with her?”

  She gave her head a shake. “Why are you looking again? I would’ve thought you were all settled in Beach Daze. You seemed so happy when we found it, and I heard from Vi the renovations went beautifully.”

  “I am perfectly happy where I am. Betsy wanted me to have a look, since the sellers decided to put it on the market.”

  “Betsy, huh.” Tara sounded skeptical. “I’m not sure she could afford the asking price.”

  As I moved through the space, I wondered if Lucy and the biker had rendezvoused here. The bedroom was empty and clean. Nothing in the dresser or bedside table. Same with the bathroom. Well, this is pointless. There wasn’t a single piece of evidence that Lucy ever lived here. After I thanked Tara again, seeing how eager she was to get back to work, I didn’t ask any more questions.

  “Tell Betsy if she’s serious about buying a new place, I have a couple of fixer-uppers coming on the market soon. We’ll probably have to get creative with financing, but I’ll do what I can.” Tara opened the door to her sleek black Mercedes. Tourism had been good for her career, and I was glad.

  “I’ll do it. You know Betsy. One minute she’s eager to leap and the next she’s content to stay put.” I waved and gave her a bright smile.

  CHAPTER 17

  Walking into my cottage took guts after what transpired today. I’d inserted my key three times, and each time I had a change of heart and went to wait in the car for Betsy to arrive. Someone had dumped the body and, unlike Sam, Alex wasn’t the one I suspected. I let out a deep sigh when Mama appeared in the passenger seat. She reached over and took my hand. We both sat there for a long time in the air-conditioning, staring at my home, and I was thankful she’d shown up. How different would life have turned out if she and I had been like this when she lived? She might have crossed over when she passed, and perhaps I would never have left the island and never married Peter. Maybe if she’d told me about my father earlier, we could have all been a family.

  “Lucy Carmichael has crossed over.” Her tone sounded monotone, and I could tell she felt like she’d let me down.

  Well, that was that then. Lucy died. “That’s so crazy you couldn’t tell.” My stomach began to swim as I wondered why anyone would take her body.

  “Yes.”

  “And the drugs in my cabinet?” I held my breath.

  “Killed her.”

  I released Mama’s hand when I thought I might throw up, turned the air to full blast, and leaned toward the vent while I tried to steady my heart rate and calm my churning midsection.

  “There won’t be any prints on the bottle, though, I saw to that. I have no idea how your prints even came to be there in the first place. I did leave the partial print from an unidentified person on it, though.”

  I glanced over at her. Her brown curly hair gently danced around her neckline, and I wondered what was truly real and what was a fabrication of my mind. I suddenly understood that like when she sat next to me or made a point to breathe, it put me at ease and allowed her to do her job and help me. Nor did it matter how or why she sat here. My life could have unraveled the same as it did now, but under different circumstances. Alex and I still might not have worked out, and he still might have married Lucy. Someone would still have murdered her, and I could have still been the one they set up to take the fall. All those what-ifs would tie you up in knots and keep you from growth. No more.

  “Mama, what do I do?”

  She reached out and took my hand again. “Things are going to get rough, but you keep moving. And I’ll be here, no matter what. I’ll never stop trying to help, and I’ll never abandon you.”

  Gratitude overwhelmed me and the tears began to fall.
I squeezed her hand. “Thank you. Your growth and love haven’t gone unnoticed.”

  She smiled one of her rare smiles that lit up her entire face. And even on this dark day, it brought light into my heart. “Darlin’, I wouldn’t be any other place. Javier you can trust. Let him help when you can, but, other than him, keep whatever you do to yourself.”

  “Eddie?”

  “Your father will always be by your side and do everything in his power to solve this case. That Thornton is a puzzler. I can’t get a good read on him. So be careful where he is concerned.”

  “No worries there.” I swallowed hard and tried to calm myself. “Am I going to be arrested?”

  Mama’s head shook. “I honestly don’t know.”

  Betsy’s car came rumbling down the street. There was no mistaking her roaring candy-apple-red Camaro.

  Mama squeezed my hand one last time. “I know you and Betsy share everything.”

  “She’s my sister from another mister.” I smiled as Betsy pulled in behind me.

  “Give her a message for me. Tell her to always guard her heart.” She began to fade before I could inquire further. Not that the advice was unsound. Obviously it was great advice for everyone; I still needed to know what impending situation made her bring this up.

  Betsy jerked open my door seconds later as I sat alone in the car. “You ain’t ever going to believe what happened!”

  “What now?” I turned the car off and stepped out. The humidity slapped me in the face, and I instantly broke out in a sweat.

  “The Carmichaels, Lucy’s folks from South Carolina.” We walked up to the front door and I inserted the key for the fourth time today as I nodded for her to continue. “They’re loaded. Like vacation homes in France loaded.”

  “Okay.” I left the key in the door but didn’t open it.

  “Yeah, well, Aunt Regina offered them to stay with her, being hospitable and all. Initially they agreed, until Alex drove them up to her house. Then Mrs. Carmichael got all fidgety and made up tons of excuses why they just couldn’t impose. This is all coming from Meemaw, ’cause I ain’t speaking with Aunt Traitor at present, and neither is Aunt Vi.”

  “Right.” I shifted my purse to my right shoulder.

  “Anyway, they called a cab from Aunt Traitor’s place and rented the old Ledbetter house, which, as you know, Rainey Lane is asking a pretty penny for.”

  Rainey Lane Ledbetter, our archenemy all through school, inherited the place from her father-in-law several years ago. She never came back home to visit anymore. She did, however, enjoy profits from all the rental properties she now held deeds to.

  “I know it’s the most expensive rental on the island. It’s private, with a gorgeous view of the ocean. Plus, she put a lot of money into fixing up the place. If she ever decided to sell, it’d move quick.”

  “True.” Betsy stared at me for a long moment. “Why are we still standing out here on the porch?”

  “Because I’m scared to go inside.”

  Betsy humphed and dug through her shoulder bag, pulling out an old revolver. I raised my eyebrows at her as she pointed it at the front door and squinted one eye to aim.

  “Don’t shoot my door, you nut!”

  “I’m not going to, and I refuse for us to live our lives in fear. If some bozo wants to mess with us, they’re going to get it right between the eyes. I’m a deadeye.” Betsy couldn’t hit the side of a barn. Still, it was better to do this together with a weapon than to go inside alone and unarmed.

  Slowly, I unlocked the door, twisted the knob, and before I could push it open, Betsy’s sneakered foot flew past me and kicked. The knob slipped from my fingers as the door swung open, hit the wall, and slammed back shut in our faces and a shot went off. Betsy fell back into me, and we both went tumbling off the porch and into the mulched flower beds.

  Something hard hit the side of my head. “Oh my God!” I rubbed the achy spot and crawled to my knees, flinching as the mulch imbedded into my skin. My right elbow stung, and blood rolled down my arm. Then something shiny flickering in the sunlight caught my attention. I reached under the mature lilac bush planted by the previous owners and felt the warm metal against my fingertips. It took me a minute to figure out what it was as I held it up. It was a money clip engraved with A.M. on the front and With all my love, Lucy on the back. I froze.

  “Betsy . . .”

  “Yeah, you okay?” Betsy sat up and picked a couple thorns from her legs. She’d fallen right into my Knock Out roses. Petals were everywhere. Thankfully, I’d fallen just left of them and into the shrubs.

  “Yeah.” I inspected my skinned elbow full of nasty dirt. “Just scraped up a bit. Why would Alex’s money clip be in my front flower bed?”

  “Say what? Help me up, will ya.”

  “You really shouldn’t be allowed to carry a gun.” I dusted myself off and stood, holding a hand out to her.

  She grabbed it. “Technically, I’m not actually allowed to carry concealed, but nobody checks those permits anyway.”

  My mouth gaped open. “Detective Thornton would. Not to sound cliché, but he’d lock you up so fast it’d make your head spin. Quite literally, Bets.”

  The alarm started going off. I guess Eddie must have come back and set it after they finished up here.

  She grabbed my hand and scrambled to her feet, taking the clip from me for inspection. “I didn’t think of that. Still, I’d rather be alive and deal with a charge than end up like Lucy.” Betsy whistled. “It’s his, all right. Lucy gave it to him at the rehearsal dinner. She made out like it was something important.” She dusted off her backside, handed me the clip back, and looked around. “You see my gun?”

  I glanced around the flower beds. “Yeah. It’s over there in the shrubbery. It conked me on the head when you threw it.” I sent a silent prayer above, thanking the good Lord for sparing my life. If some crazed maniac didn’t kill me, Betsy might. My attention went back to the clip.

  “I didn’t throw it. You spooked me when you shrieked and knocked it from my hand. You’re lucky another shot didn’t go off. It’s not the most reliable gun I have.”

  She stooped down and picked up the gun as I gaped at her. “Oh man! It’s got a scratch on it.”

  My cell phone rang. I didn’t have to guess who it was. “This is Marygene Brown.” Not all that worried about a predator anymore, I marched up the steps and opened the door and hit the code on the keypad. “I apologize, I forgot to disarm the system when I came inside.”

  Betsy waltzed past me as she licked her finger and began rubbing at the mark on her gun.

  The service, now satisfied I didn’t have an intruder, warned me that if another false alarm occurred, I’d incur a charge.

  After we searched the house for anything out of the ordinary, Betsy sat at the bar eating a slice of fruity Irish soda bread and a glass of iced tea.

  “How’s Aunt Vi holding up?”

  “She’s settled down. Our attorney put both our minds at ease. Unless they come up with some real evidence, all they have is stupid hearsay.”

  I nodded and put the money clip on the island and took a biscotti from my cookie jar while I fired up my Keurig. “If Alex received this as a gift the night before he got married, that would mean he had to lose it snooping around my house after it all went down or when he dumped her body here. It scares me to think that way.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  My cell rang again, and I was surprised to see it was Teddy. I hit the speaker icon and placed the phone next to me on the counter. “Hey, Teddy.”

  “Hey. You holding up okay?”

  I opened the cabinet and retrieved my favorite Make It Happen mug Betsy gave me for Christmas last year. “I’m okay. How about yourself ?”

  Betsy waved her hand toward the cookie jar.

  “I’ve been better. I wanted to tell you I didn’t say anything bad about you to that detective. I did, however, tell him how hostile your boyfriend was behaving.”

  “Do
n’t worry about it. You have to tell the truth, and Paul isn’t exactly my boyfriend, we’re just sort of . . .” I didn’t know where to go with it next as I handed Betsy her biscotti and cup of coffee. “Seeing where it goes, I guess.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, it isn’t any of my business anyway.” He went silent on the other end, and I could tell he was wrestling with whether he wanted to discuss something with me. He always went silent when he had one of his pros-and-cons mental debates.

  “Teddy, is there something you think I should know?”

  Silence.

  “Teddy, are you there?”

  “Maybe he hung up,” Betsy whispered.

  “I’m here. I didn’t know this call was being broadcasted. I probably should just—”

  “No, wait. It’s just Betsy. Here, I’m taking you off speakerphone. Okay, we good?” I scowled at Betsy as I put the phone to my ear.

  She got up and sliced herself another piece of bread.

  “Yeah, okay. Listen, I’m not sure why I felt the need to tell you this so badly, but ever since I discovered some anomalies in the autopsy, I couldn’t shake the desire to call you.”

  Thank you, Mama! “I appreciate you looking out for me.”

  “It’s odd, Marygene. You and I have grown closer as friends over the years, but I’d never jeopardize my career for even my closest friends. Now I’m overcome with emotion to unburden what I found to you. On one hand I can rationalize it out as obligation for what you did for me when everything happened with Dad. And on the other, maybe I just want to see justice served. This is new, for sure. I’m not positive this new development between us is a good thing for either of us. No, I didn’t mean that. I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

  I suddenly felt extremely bad for Teddy, and I decided to have a talk with Mama about the effects of her influence on others. “Of course I know you’re here for me. Honestly, though, if you feel like this is the wrong move, we’ll hang up the phone right now and pretend you never called. Or maybe you called to ask about the specials at the diner tonight and want me to have someone deliver dinner, since you’re so busy.”

 

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