Beau waved his hand. “Oh, you professional-types always have to have everything just so. The location is the real draw on this property, and that’ll drive up the price faster than structural integrity any day. Caveat emptor, I say.”
Tucker ignored his jab. “We’re in a time crunch, so I’m going to get down to what we discussed briefly over the phone. How well did you know Esther Sinclair?”
Smiling, Beau said, “Not terribly well.”
“Did you have an affair with her?”
Clutching his chest in a show of shock, Beau said, “How can you think that of me? I was married to your aunt at the time.”
Tucker’s expression grew dark. “Everyone in town knows you stepped out on her. No need to lie about it now.”
Beau at least had the grace to blush. “Fine. I wasn’t the most faithful husband, but I didn’t have an affair with the girl.” He evidently couldn’t help himself from adding, “And not for lack of trying.”
Delilah blurted out, “Gross. She was only eighteen.”
“Eighteen is legal. And I wasn’t the only one hitting on her.”
I caught Delilah’s eye, and an unspoken vibe passed between us. “Who else was?” I asked.
“Those lowbrow landscapers Lela forced me to hire. Those guys couldn’t keep their tongues off the ground when Esther would walk home from school in her cheerleader uniform or work on her tan in her backyard in her bathing suit. They ogled her friends when they came over, too. But those girls didn’t mind one bit. All three of them loved the attention.”
Delilah said, “Sounds like someone gave Esther a little too much attention. Did any of those guys ever make a move on her?”
“If they did, she didn’t go for it. She had a boyfriend at the time, or so she said. I never saw her bring any boys around.”
I remembered something Aunt Lela had said. “Was it because her parents were so strict?”
“Likely so.” He shook his head. “Those two were sanctimonious zealots of the first order. The woman accosted me as I was moving out to tell me what a worthless heathen I was for cheating on Lela, and how I was going straight to hell for it.”
“Sounds like a lovely woman,” I said, only half-joking. “Do you know if she was aware of her daughter’s many admirers? Or that you’d been trying to…court her?”
“I assume not, otherwise I think she would have given me an earful long before then.”
Delilah asked, “Did you find Mrs. Sinclair to be generally confrontational? Or was it just the one time?”
“She gave Lela a tongue-lashing of biblical proportion over setting her daughter’s car on fire.” He chuckled at the memory.
“Lela didn’t mention that to us,” Delilah said.
“Lela was too drunk to remember.”
“Oh.”
“And when Our Lady of Self-Righteousness Ada Sinclair got done with Lela, she turned her wrath onto poor sweet Esther.”
“Why?” I asked. “You said you didn’t think she knew you and Esther had gotten chummy, which was the reason Lela torched her car.”
“Well, Ada was misinformed about the real reason Lela destroyed the car. Esther told her mother that Lela got mad about Esther parking the car in front of our house again.”
Tucker, who had been quiet for a while, said, “It sounds like Esther lied to her parents a lot.”
Beau shrugged. “Wouldn’t you if your parents were so strict that they wouldn’t let you out of the house past eight P.M.?”
That explained the sneaking in and out that Aunt Lela mentioned.
Delilah said, “We heard you were out of town on business during the time the police think Esther was killed. Is that right?”
“Business. Right,” he replied, giving her a wink.
While Delilah was busy being repulsed, I said, “I realize you can’t give Lela an alibi, but is there anything you can tell us that might help exonerate her?”
He snorted. “You think I’d lift a finger to help that old cow?”
Tucker’s face turned red, and he took a step toward Beau. I hurried over and got in between them. No matter how Beau goaded him, Tucker could not make any kind of aggressive move toward him. Beau was the kind of person who’d sue in a heartbeat and delight in taking Tucker for every last penny he had.
I replied, “Yes, I think you owe it to her after how you treated her.”
He trailed one finger down a silvery scar that ran from his brow bone to his cheekbone. “Don’t let her fool you, darlin’. She can give as good as she gets. You want my opinion, she’s right where she should be. If I were you, I wouldn’t go worrying my pretty little head looking for a way to get her out.”
Tucker lunged toward his former uncle, but luckily Delilah had anticipated his move and already had both of her arms wrapped around one of his. I clamped onto his other arm and held tight. Between the two of us, we managed to pull him back and out the door, with Beau smirking at us every step of the way.
The three of us were silent as we got into Tucker’s truck and drove back toward Savannah.
Delilah finally broke the silence by joking, “Anyone else feel dirty after talking to dear old ‘Uncle Beau’?”
Tucker and I both raised our hands and shared a rueful smile.
Chapter 13
Most of the way back to town, Delilah had her head buried in her phone. She hardly said a word until Tucker parked his truck in front of his home.
She hopped down from the truck and did a little dance on the sidewalk. “Who’s got two thumbs and the name of Esther Sinclair’s high school boyfriend?” She pointed to herself and said, “This girl!”
I smiled at my sister. “Nice work.”
“I spent my hour of downtime earlier reading news stories about Esther Sinclair, and I remembered an article that pictured her as homecoming queen. It took me forever to find it again, but when I did, I noticed how the two of them were looking at each other in the photo, like they were an item. So I googled their names together and hit the jackpot.” She showed us her phone proudly. On the screen, there was a photo of a smiling middle-aged man in a campaign ad.
“Brock Sheridan, the city councilman? No way.”
“The very same. Surely a politician will give us straight answers to our questions.” She dissolved into giggles at her own joke.
Tucker seemed uneasy. “Are you sure you want to drag a city councilman into this?”
Delilah and I stared at him and said in unison, “Yes.”
Delilah added, “Government officials don’t get a pass on investigations.”
He still wasn’t convinced. “He’s one of my father’s friends. Dad supported his last campaign pretty heavily.”
Delilah shrugged. “So?”
I grimaced. “So we need to make sure not to step on his toes. I’m in deep enough doo-doo with the Heywards without doing something that will embarrass them to their friends. Again.”
Tucker said, “I’m not asking you not to talk to him. I’m only mentioning it so you’ll tread lightly. He’s powerful among the council, and I don’t want to see you get on his bad side. It could affect your business.”
Delilah eyed him skeptically. “Are you saying he’s vindictive? That could be a red flag. When it comes to assault and murder, it’s nearly always the victim’s significant other that ends up being to blame.”
Tucker chuckled. “If you ever get tired of the B&B business, you should become a full-fledged investigator. You’re good at reading between the lines. And you can spot horse hockey a mile away.”
A blush tinged her cheeks. My sister absolutely lit up when we did these crazy sleuthing missions. The only thing I’ve ever seen her do that came close to getting her this enthused was her work in community theater.
“Thank you for the compliment. And we will tread lightly, but I think it wou
ld be negligent not to talk to him. Besides, I have the perfect angle to get a meeting with him—he and his wife are big community theater supporters, and I’ve recently been elected chairperson of fundraising for the upcoming season. Easy peasy.”
Nodding, I said, “Make it happen.”
“You got it.” She jogged across the street toward home, leaving me alone with Tucker.
He wrapped his arms around my waist. “I don’t know that I ever said thank you for taking on this task.”
I smiled up at him. “Not formally, but the subtext was there.”
“Well, then, I would like to formally thank you for helping to free my aunt.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Can I take you out to dinner tonight to further show my heartfelt thanks?”
“Shouldn’t we spend time working on the case?”
“We have to eat.”
I nodded. “Okay, a quick bite. But first, we do another interview.”
“Who’s the unlucky target?”
“My mother.”
He winced. “Ooh. So if things go badly, it could ruin your mother’s opinion of me.”
“At least then we’ll both be in the same boat where parents are concerned.”
He frowned. “I think your sister will want to be in on this interview, don’t you?”
“Yes, but it will go much more smoothly if she’s not. If D’s there, they’ll start arguing, and Mom will get all dramatic and swan off in a huff.”
“Would it help to offer to take your mom to dinner with us?”
I shook my head. “Dinner alone with you will be my reward after the struggle of getting her to focus long enough to have a serious conversation, especially since she’s hosting a holiday drum circle tonight in Chippewa Square.” Mom would often partake of the wacky tobacky before her weekly drum circles. She thought it made her more in tune with the music. It just made her high.
“What makes it a ‘holiday’ drum circle?”
“They add sleigh bells.”
A mischievous grin pulled at his lips. “Follow-up question—can we participate in this drum circle?”
“If you think you can sit through an hour of baked hippies pounding randomly on drums, then we absolutely can.”
“Ooh. Hard pass.”
“My thoughts exactly. We’ll show up at the end. In the meantime, I’m afraid I’ll need to be available at the B&B. I have to run check-in this afternoon and come up with the breakfast menu for this week. But in my downtime, I thought I’d acquaint myself with some of the articles out there about Esther Sinclair. Delilah certainly had some luck from it.”
“Sounds like you have a busy afternoon ahead of you. I’ll get out of your hair.”
I surveyed the dark circles under his eyes. “It might be a good idea to take a nap. I’m afraid this is going to get harder before it gets easier.”
“I’m afraid you’re right. See you soon.” He released me and trudged up the steps to his house.
* * *
—
Between welcoming new guests to the B&B and getting them settled, dreaming up some new and interesting breakfast options, and scouring the Internet for information on Esther Sinclair, I was pooped by the time Tucker strolled in the front door to pick me up. However, I felt like I’d got a lot accomplished.
“Did you get some rest? You look bright-eyed,” I said, grabbing a jacket on my way to the door.
“I did, and it helped. I’ve been a real grouch lately. Have you noticed?” Tucker asked.
I hid a smile. “No, I hadn’t noticed at all.”
“Are you trying to be nice or flat-out telling tales?”
“A lady never tells.”
He grinned at me and took my hand as we began walking down Harris Street. It was a nice night, finally a brisk chill to the air. It didn’t even take us ten minutes to walk the four blocks to Chippewa Square. Mom and her friends weren’t hard to find. Twenty people were spread out on blankets in the southeast corner of the square under the twisted bare branches of several gorgeous live oak trees. They had brought lanterns and strings of battery-powered twinkle lights to be able to see one another in the dark. It was quite a lovely picture, save the noise. We waited a good distance away until they were finished and began packing up their things.
Everyone was coming up to Mom and thanking her for putting together the gathering. She of course was completely in her element as the center of attention. Her boyfriend, Paul, spotted me and waved excitedly, beckoning us over to him. I didn’t care for Paul. I supposed he was a nice enough man, but he wasn’t much of a go-getter. Mom needed someone who would encourage her to find work and stick with it. Paul was not that person. He’d already accomplished his dream of living in a van down by the river, unencumbered by material possessions. Mom wasn’t quite that enlightened, and still had a penchant for shopping. Unfortunately, she wasn’t so driven that she could support herself. Hence the reason she visited us at breakfast time most days and wasn’t too proud to ask for loans she never intended to pay back.
Paul embraced me in a too-tight hug and shook Tucker’s hand. “I’m so bummed you guys missed the circle.”
I nodded. “Right. Us, too. I had to work. This is Tucker Heyward, my boyfriend. Tucker, Paul Elliott.”
“Suncloud’s life partner,” Paul made sure to add, grinning from ear to ear. On paper, Paul might not have been the best, but he did adore my mother.
Just then, she approached us. “Quinn! I didn’t expect to see you of all people here.”
It was no secret that I had dodged taking part in Mom’s drum circles for years. Delilah and Papa Sal had taken a more direct approach and voiced their refusal to ever consider participating. That didn’t stop Mom from inviting us, hoping one day we’d change our minds.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Suncloud,” she hissed. “Remember, you don’t call me ‘Mom’ in front of my people.”
I nodded.
Tucker said, “Good evening, Ms. Bellandini.”
She huffed at him, “Same to you, young man. Suncloud.”
“Sorry…um…Suncloud,” Tucker replied haltingly.
Mom started swaying to the beat of music only she could hear. “Did you experience the ethereal beauty of the undulating rhythm there at the end, Quinn? It was as if we were one with the movement of the Earth and nature and the moon.”
I said, “Um…yes. I heard it. Great stuff. We actually came here tonight because we wanted to talk to you.”
“Are you here to tell me you two are getting married?” she squealed.
My jaw dropped, and I saw a look of shock take over Tucker’s face. “No, Mom…uh…no. You know we’ve only been dating a couple of months.”
“So?”
I waved both hands back and forth. “No one said anything about marriage. We came over here to tell you that Tucker’s aunt Lela was arrested for Esther Sinclair’s murder.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Oh.”
“What we wanted to talk about was whether or not you knew Esther from high school. You both graduated from Reynolds High in 1986, right?”
She nodded.
“And did you know her?”
“Everyone knew Esther.”
“So we’ve heard. Was it a big deal among the students that she left town on graduation night and never came back?”
She hemmed and hawed around before answering. “I don’t know, Quinn. We all kind of went our separate ways over the summer.”
“Still, people had to have gossiped about it. This is the South, after all.”
Shrugging, she said, “I had my own set of problems around that time. I wasn’t worried about what everyone else was doing.”
That summer would have been when she’d found out she was pregnant with Delilah. News like that would probabl
y have overshadowed everything else going on around her.
“Okay, then can you tell us about what Esther was like?”
“Why do you need to know this, Quinn?”
“Well, Lela is innocent, so…we thought we might try to find her some reasonable doubt and get her off the hook.”
Mom swallowed audibly. “Like you did with that friend of yours a while back?”
“Yes.”
“I think that’s a bad idea. Quinn, you can’t run around town chasing a murderer. You just can’t.”
I glanced at Tucker. “I’m not. I’m only asking some simple questions around town, Mom. Gossiping, for lack of a better word. There’s no harm in that.”
“There certainly was harm last time,” she snapped, totally unlike herself.
“Like I said, this is completely different. If you could give me some information or point me in the direction of a good person to speak to, then I could put the whole thing to rest that much faster.”
“Don’t you have enough to do with the B&B?” she asked, flicking her eyes around nervously.
I touched her shoulder. “What’s wrong, Mom?”
She blew out a long sigh and put a hand to her forehead. “Quinnie, I’m beat. I’m going to have to take a raincheck on our conversation. Paul, are you ready to head home?”
“Ready when you are, my love.” He picked up her drum, blanket, and bag from where she’d set them on the ground and heaved them over his scrawny shoulder. “Quinn, nice to see you. Tucker, nice to meet you.”
Tucker replied, “Same to you.”
“Good night, Paul. Good night, Mom,” I said. Maybe it would have been better to have had Delilah with us. She might have goaded our mother into answering some of my questions.
After they were out of earshot, Tucker turned to me. “Why was she trying so hard to dodge your questions?”
“No clue.” Unsure of her reasoning, I still found myself unsurprised by her abrupt departure. I never understood why she did the things she did, so I tried to take her actions at face value.
Southern Harm Page 7
