by CC Dragon
“Thanks for lunch. What did you find out?” I asked.
Gus sat back from his food. “Last night? Bonnie’s younger son had a lot of pent-up rage. He was so quiet at the funeral. Apparently, he hasn’t been dealing with it at all. He went back to college—he’s on a partial football scholarship so he had to go back and play to keep it. He got into fights with his teammates and was cutting class.”
“Oh no. That’s awful,” I said.
“The school offered him counseling but he didn’t show up. In the end, he got an incomplete for the semester and he’ll go back next semester and retake those classes. His grief is too much. It’s fair of the school, but he needs to handle his anger.” Gus sipped a coffee.
“Was he the one messing up gardens?” I asked.
“Sure enough. He’s sure someone killed his father and he’s beyond pissed. He pulled out all the lily of the valley and broke every window in Lola’s house. His mom had no idea he wasn’t in school. I think he’s been staying with Hank or another friend around town,” Gus replied.
“Poor thing’s madder than a wet hen. He definitely needs help,” I said.
“He’s in custody now. Destruction of property, threats and criminal trespass. He’d been drinking a lot. He wants answers and I don’t blame him,” Gus said.
“But ripping up people’s gardens won’t get the answers.” I smiled and ate.
“Ideas?” Gus asked.
“Me? I don’t know. It sounds like the son thinks it’s Lola. Which means he didn’t do it. The older son has two kids—there’s no way he’d put himself in jail over his father’s cheating. He has his own family to think about. Eddie Junior was more mature than most of the guys in school.”
Gus sighed. “Wife or girlfriend? Poison is traditionally a woman’s weapon. Bonnie seemed content to wait the affair out. Lola was pressing for a change and attention. She may have been plotting this for years and waiting for the time when she felt strong enough to issue an ultimatum. The youngest was out of the house, in college, and Eddie was close enough to retire if he wanted to. So she could’ve believed it wouldn’t ruin his career if he just retired, divorced and moved in with her.”
“You already brought her in for questioning?”
“She said she saw him for an hour that day. She could’ve fed him or baked him something and he ate it without thinking. He trusted her.” Gus shook his head.
“He was cheating on his wife with the woman.” I created an invite list on my phone while we ate.
“What are you working on now?” he asked.
“Just adding a few names to a guest list before I forget. Grand re-opening. I don’t want to forget anyone. Might as well just ask the whole town,” I joked.
“That sounds about right.” Gus folded his arms. “I’m really sorry about last night. I was looking forward to it.”
“Gran was too. You two make a cute couple, but you have some competition.”
He laughed. “She was kind to invite me, but I’ve been trying to get you to dance with me. Spend more time with me,” he said.
“You have too much on your plate and I have too much on mine right now. People will inform you soon enough about the type of girls you want to date,” I said.
Gus smiled. “I know what I want, but I’m also very patient.”
“Do you think email invitations are rude?” I asked.
“I’d just hang a sign in the window. If you have people out of town or who don’t come in the shop, then maybe an email,” he said.
“I think I want Hank to come. If he can get away. Taking care of someone is hard, but maybe he can bring his mom some treats. Cheer them both up?” I picked a couple of other friends from Atlanta, who I knew wouldn’t make the trek, but I’d made the gesture and they knew what I was up to. I sent the email.
“You should set up an Insta for the shop too. Pics everywhere,” he said.
“That’s brilliant. I come home to Sweet Grove and I feel like I’m in a different time sometimes. I’ve been ignoring my social media horribly.” I cleaned up the lunch and pecked him on the cheek.
“That was worth the suggestion,” he said.
“Men.” My phone binged.
“It’s an email from Hank. Sorry, can’t make it. I have to work but I’ll stop in another time. Thanks for thinking of me, Hank.” I read the signature of his email. “Oh.”
“What oh?” Gus asked.
“Guess where Hank works?” I asked Gus.
Gus shook his head. “We didn’t dig into him that far. He’s employed, no criminal record. Good relationship with his uncle.”
“He delivers for a florist and nursery, a big one outside of Nashville.” I sighed. “Something about that smells—and not like roses.”
Chapter Fifteen
I found myself riding shotgun as Gus was on the radio, trying to figure some things out. Sheriff Monroe’s son had torn up the town gardens and was in a holding cell, but we were off on a completely different lead.
“I saw Hank talking to Lola at the reception afterward, which I thought was weird,” I admitted.
“We’re pulling more info on Hank,” Gus said.
I grabbed my phone and called Bonnie. “Hi, Bonnie, can I ask you a weird question?”
“Hello, Annabelle Baxter. Is that how you talk on the phone?” she replied.
“I’m sorry, I’m with Gus and we’re trying to narrow down who killed the sheriff. It’s important and I don’t know how much time we have before we track down the suspect,” I explained.
“What’s your question?” she asked.
“I saw Lola and Hank talking to each other outside your house the day of the funeral. Is there any reason you can think of for those two to be nice to each other?” I asked.
“Nice? Unless she was asking him for money…no. I know he cashed in his inheritance quickly, but Lola might’ve tried to sweet talk him out of it.” Bonnie sounded annoyed.
“Did you mind that your husband left some money to Hank?” I asked.
Bonnie chuckled. “No. Eddie helped as much as he could, but most of it fell on Hank to care for her. Hank will need that money to help if his mother hangs on in this state. She and I never got along wonderfully, so it was a load off my shoulders. Hank needed the help and he won’t get any more of it. I have to look after my sons and grandkids.”
“Did Hank get along with your boys?” I asked.
She sighed. “They weren’t raised together. Hank was a mamma’s boy. He didn’t play sports or anything. He was an only child and smart enough. He should’ve at least been an EMT, but then he couldn’t drop everything and check on her or take her to the doctor.”
Bonnie was jealous that Hank doted on his mom and her sons had moved on to their own lives.
“At least we have our health. Do you know of Hank having any unsavory or dangerous friends?” I asked.
“No, he drinks a bit and helps friends by fixing up cars, because he has to fix his own car, but nothing bad. Is that all?” Bonnie asked.
“Yes. Thanks for the info, Bonnie. I’m sorry to bug you. I hope you can make the grand re-opening celebration. Bye.” I hung up.
“Bonnie?” Gus asked.
“She’s just jealous Hank takes care of his mom so much. No real help beyond that. Hank isn’t impressive in his career or education. Of course, Bonnie isn’t ill like Hank’s mom. But why would he be chatting with Lola?” I wondered aloud.
Gus got a call. I couldn’t hear the other side of it and all Gus did was grunt in acknowledgment.
“He’s off work right now, so the GPS from his delivery truck won’t help. His boss mentioned a bar he liked to go to with friends,” Gus said.
“It’s only barely three o’clock,” I said.
“No accounting for what people need,” he said.
“Why did you bring me?” I asked.
Gus sighed. “Sorry. I should’ve left you to your work. I just wanted to spend more time with you and we always seem to have issues.”
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“We’re both working on our careers a lot right now. You need to solve a murder, prove yourself as sheriff and I am taking over Gran’s business. It’ll be in my name and everything, so that’s pressure.” I rubbed the back of my neck and tried not to think about it too much.
“You miss Atlanta?” he asked.
“Not really. I miss being invisible at times. Everywhere I go, it’s a half an hour chat about what’s happened since high school and how my family stuff doesn’t really matter. Which means it still does, of course. Sweet Grove is so small and people don’t forget anything.” I shook my head.
“Martha was very chatty with you,” he said.
“She was always nice. Her mom didn’t like me. I just can’t believe she has two little girls and an ex-husband. Katie has a bar. I feel so far behind,” I admitted.
“You have a smoothie and preserves shop,” he said.
I shook my head. “I’m buying it for cheap from my grandmother. I believe I can make it work, but it’s her preserves and baking recipes. I need to keep an eye on her. I guess I can sympathize with Hank.”
“But you suspect him,” Gus said.
“Just because someone is good to part of their family doesn’t mean they’re all good. Maybe he got Lola a large quantity of lily of the valley from his job so no one would suspect her? His uncle was playing two women. Taking advantage of them. Hurting them. Hurting his kids. Maybe if he wasn’t screwing around, the sheriff might’ve had more time to visit his sister or help his nephew a little more.” I was trying to think about the emotional strain and resentment. “I don’t have any siblings. I don’t have parents to help out. Gran’s health, safety and security are completely on me. That’s a lot of pressure. Hank’s mom got ill very young and is in the worst stages now. Gran is old and it’s not a disease per se, but I don’t feel like I’m ready.”
Gus reached over and took my hand with his. “No one ever does.”
“You?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I’ve seen it. So many times. People give up everything to take care of their family, and it’s the right thing, but it drains them. Jobs don’t care, employers don’t understand and others, even others in the family, take it all for granted. Don’t stop living, Belle.”
“Thanks. That’s why the business has to be my focus and it has to succeed.”
“Thinking franchises already?” he teased.
His phone rang before I could reply. Gus answered and the voice on the other end was loud and muffled.
“Got it. Thanks.” Gus ended the call.
“Interesting,” he said.
“Interesting?” I asked. “You’re a tease.”
He sighed. “Hank was adopted. That makes it a bit more complicated. They were trying to get his birth certificate but hit a roadblock. It was a closed adoption.”
“Adoption? No way. Hank looks like his uncle.” I could see the similarities in how they stood, that little squint in the corner of their eyes and when they smiled really big, plus how their hair was curly and always cut short.
“He was adopted, no doubt about it. We’ll get to the bottom of it,” Gus assured me.
Adopted but looks like Eddie Monroe…
“Oh crap,” I said. “Sheriff Monroe wasn’t his uncle.”
I grabbed my phone and called the keeper of Sweet Grove secrets. I put her on speaker phone.
“Yes, dear,” Gran answered.
“Gran, is Hank really Monroe’s nephew?” I asked.
“Of course, dear,” Gran said sweetly.
“Gran, we know he was adopted by the sheriff’s sister. Why?” I asked.
“That still makes him the sheriff’s nephew. She wanted a baby. Poor thing never could find a husband. She looked like her brother and couldn’t cook a lick.” Gran clucked her tongue.
I almost joked that at least I could cook, but Gus was in the car.
“But Hank looks like the sheriff. He has a family resemblance. If he’s not blood that doesn’t make sense,” I countered.
The line went quiet.
“Gran?” I asked.
“I’m having trouble hearing you, dear,” she said.
“Gran, don’t play games. Is Hank the child of Lola and the sheriff? Did they adopt him out to Eddie’s sister to hush it up but keep him close?” I pressed.
Gus gave me a thumbs-up. Flaw found—he was a bit dorky at times, but still good-looking and hard-working.
“No! I can honestly say he is not the son of Lola and Eddie. Oh dear, I have customers. You go have fun on your date and I’ll handle it. Don’t worry about a thing about the shop,” she said.
The call ended.
“She’s good,” Gus said.
“The best. Guilt bomb and skirting the truth. I’d bet she’d pass a polygraph with that.”
“She would. You said Lola was a lifer in Sweet Grove. She grew up there?” he asked.
“Always in the flower shop and the choir. Divorced and no kids with the ex.”
“People would remember if she left for some months to visit family then came back to hide an unacceptable pregnancy. Your Gran especially,” Gus said.
“She would. You think she’s lying?” I asked.
Gus shook his head. “I think Eddie had another girlfriend, at some point anyway. We didn’t find any current other other women, but twenty years ago, who knows.”
“Poor Hank,” I said. To be adopted by your aunt and forced to call her your mother and care for her while being denied by your true parents.
“Poor Hank is a murderer. I don’t think he helped Lola. I think he did it,” Gus replied.
My phone beeped and I checked the message.
“Who’s that?” Gus asked.
“None of your beeswax. Just a friend from Atlanta. Nothing to do with this case,” I replied.
“A male friend?” Gus asked.
Gus is jealous? I shook my head. “No, Trish. She came by the shop to visit when she had an interview in Nashville. She got the job.”
“Good for her,” Gus replied.
“It is very good. She loved Gran’s preserves. If she’s working in a big fancy hotel, she can slip a jar to the restaurant manager to try. Or if things go south here, she might be able to get me a job that I could at least commute to rather than uproot Gran.” I was very grateful for my friends and backup options. I had faith and would do anything for the shop, but the only sure things in life were death and taxes.
“Leaving us already?” Gus asked.
“Us? You’re new in Sweet Grove. I’m old news and home. No, I’m not leaving, but we have to do what it takes. I’m not too uppity or pampered to not consider my options when I’m the only one to look after Gran,” I shot back firmly.
He let the conversation lapse as he pulled up to the bar. It looked like the worst dive joint in a cheesy eighties movie about redneck roadhouses, right down to the Doberman Pinscher sitting outside—no leash, just a studded black collar.
Gus paused for a minute and seemed tense. He got on the police radio and let them know his location.
“You should stay here,” he said.
“No way,” I shot back.
He grabbed my arm. “Belle, I can’t protect you if things go badly. If he’s drunk and realizes we’re on to him, he might run or fight. I don’t want to wait for backup because someone will tip him off there’s a cop car out here.”
“They’ve probably already noticed. Go. I’ve been in bars before.” I was a small-town girl, but I wasn’t sheltered and clueless.
We got out of the car and went inside. Gus seemed tense, but he was on duty and things could go badly. Luckily, I’d taken a self-defense course while in Atlanta and I could always run for it.
He flashed his badge at the bartender. “Hank Monroe?”
I spotted him and went over. “Hi, Hank, sheriff wants to talk to you.”
I wasn’t an idiot. I kept enough distance between us so that he couldn’t grab me, though I was pretty petite, no good for usin
g as a human shield.
Hank frowned. “Why?”
“Your cousin tore up everyone’s garden and broke Lola’s windows,” I said.
That wasn’t a lie, and Gus might want to see if Hank knew anything. I hung back and listened.
Gus walked over. “Hank, come on, we need to talk.”
Hank smirked at his buddies. “I don’t feel like it.”
“Sorry, not a choice.” Gus grabbed Hank by the arm.
“Let go of me. I didn’t do anything to Lola. She’s innocent. You’re trying to frame her because it’s easy.” Hank tried to pull away.
“No one is being framed. She’s innocent, but someone did it.” Gus slapped cuffs on Hank’s wrist and twisted his other arm until he was cursing in pain.
Finally, both hands were cuffed behind Hank’s back.
“Hey, Gus, I thought you moved,” said a woman.
The redhead had a tray in her hand, wore a tight T-shirt advertising the bar and had leggings for pants that were so tight I didn’t want to look anywhere near that area for fear the trim of her bikini line might actually be visible. Certainly, there were no panty lines. The hooker heels were overkill, in my opinion.
“Had some business blow through here. We’ll be gone in a minute, Dina.” Gus didn’t even look at her.
The tension between them was higher than between Gus and Hank.
“Hang on,” Dina said. She reached down her shirt between her assets and fished out a ring on a cheap chain. “Here. My new man said I shouldn’t keep it or pawn it. He has real class.”
“Fireman?” I asked.
“Mechanic,” she said.
“Nice. I’m Belle.” I would’ve shaken hands to be polite, but she’d just been wrist deep in her own cleavage.
“Dina. He’s got a new girl already?” she asked.
“No, I’m just a friend of a victim, sort of. Trying to get a crime solved. Gotta train the new sheriff,” I joked.
“Well, you tell the girls wherever he landed to steer clear. He’s a handful, and not the good kind,” she warned.
“Thanks for the info,” I said. “We have to go.”
