Beaches, Bungalows, and Burglaries~ A Camper and Criminals Cozy Mystery Series

by Tonya Kappes

  “Did he, now?” I shook my head. “Even the church isn’t above bribing,” I whispered and looked back at the bank where I could just imagine what Ann was doing with my Gucci.

  I squeezed the keys in my palm and looked between the library and the car. I was going to do a little more research on the list of prison employee names that I’d printed off yesterday, but my curiosity of Ava Cox and where Grady had disappeared to was giving me the tickle to find out if Paul’s college best friend had anything to do with Paul’s demise.

  Thank goodness for cell phones and GPS. I put the town name in my maps and instantly the directions popped up, letting me know it would take me forty minutes to get there. There were two battles in my head. One was to go see Abby and work on a marketing plan to get people to the fundraiser. She was so savvy at this online marketing thing and, I truly wanted to have her teach me and make a go of this. The afternoon, I’d planned to go back to the campground and help Henry clean up, get my clothes out of the storage, and start planning where the decorations were going to go.

  Like the last years of my life, I put the needs of me and the campground aside, and found myself looking between the road and the GPS on my way to see Ava. Or at least on my way to see if I could find Ava.

  The whole way there I talked to myself like Ava was in the car with, anticipating her answers. Imaginary Ava told me everything I wanted to hear and how she was shocked that Paul’d scammed them too, but with Grandy missing, I wasn’t sure that was the case. My heart wanted to believe that Grady, since he’d been best friends with Paul, was also part of the scheme even though Paul swore and took the blame that it was all him.

  Ava and I’d only met the one time and I wasn’t even sure if she would talk to me. Not only did Paul ruin their lives, apparently it sent Grady off, but to where. There were so many questions I wanted to ask her. Not only questions about the scheme and Grady’s investment, but their history with Paul.

  There was a small diner on the outskirts of town that flashed a sign claiming to be the best BBQ joint in Kentucky. In fact, it was named BBQ Joint.

  It wasn’t the sign that made me whip in, rather the old phone booth with the dangling phone book that made me jerk the wheel of the Ford and parked it in a spot that was on the end of a full parking lot.

  The BBQ diner almost looked like a fancy camper that was parked in front of a small motel. You know those two level mom and pop motels that has a pool in the front with a chain length fence around it? That type of motel. The BBQ diner was shiny silver with a big red stripe around the middle and it clashed with the baby blue doors on the motel rooms. But I wasn’t there to judge, I was there to look up Ava Cox in the phone book.

  The old phone booth door creaked when I slid it shut. There had to be a vent from the restaurant into the booth because the smell of pork, cinnamon, sugar and tangy sauce swept underneath my nose as I brought the phone book up to rest on the small metal shelf while I shuffled through it.

  My stomach growled. My finger was scanning the pages, but my mind was on the BBQ. I checked my phone and noticed it was already lunchtime and I should’ve known since the parking lot was full.

  There wasn’t a Grandy or Ava Cox in the phone book. When I’d googled them on my phone, I couldn’t find them. By the looks of the Internet search I’d done at the library, Lexington was bigger than Normal, and it might be harder to find them.

  It dawned on me that while I was here, I might as well go on into the diner, eat lunch, and ask around if anyone knew Ava or Grandy.

  It was a perfect plan.

  I slid the phone booth door back open and headed inside the glass door of the restaurant. There were a few tables in the middle of the floor with four chairs that were all filled, but there was one stool that was up against the counter. It was like it was meant for me.

  The typical diner noises of chatter, clinking dishes, and the ding of the cash register was somewhat comforting to me. That small town America that I’d heard so much about was real.

  I sat down on the stool and looked around for a menu.

  “Good afternoon.” A young man with a baseball cap walked over with a small plastic glass with water and a few floating ice chips. He sat it in front of me. The BBQ Joint’s logo of a smiling pig face was embroidered on the bill of the hat. “What can I get you to drink while you look over the menu?” He pulled a menu from behind the counter and laid it in front of me. “Here’s the lunch specials.” He flipped the menu over from the breakfast side. His blue eyes were magnified behind his glasses.

  “I’ll have a Diet Coke.” I was happy to see they had Coke products. My eyes looked down the menu. It really all looked good and made my stomach rumble.

  “One Diet Coke coming up.” He wrote on his ordering pad.

  When he walked off, I noticed he swiped a coffee pot and refilled all the customers cups on the counter as he made his way down to the soda fountain. There was hardly a second for me to look back down until he was back with the drink and a straw.

  “Decide yet?” He asked and pushed up the bill of his hat, swiping the sweat with the sleeve of his shirt. His brown hair was matted to his forehead.

  “I. . .” I hesitated.

  “First timer?” He offered a smile.

  “Yes. In fact, I was driving by because I’m coming to town to look for a dear friend that I’ve not seen since my wedding.” I wondered if he knew Grady Cox Jr. “What’s good here?”

  “BBQ.” His brows drew together. “Who are you looking for?”

  “Ava and Grady Cox,” I said and took a quick glance at the menu. “I’ll have the BBQ chicken sandwich and fries.”

  “Are you some reporter or something?” He asked and didn’t write down my order.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Nothing like that. Truly, Ava and I are friends.”

  “I don’t think so.” He leaned in. “Listen, lady, if you think you can come here and try to pretend to be my mom’s friend to get a scoop, you can just walk right on out of here. Or I can toss you out.”

  “Grady Jr.?” I just couldn’t believe my luck. Maybe things were changing for me. “I’m Mae West. You came to my wedding a couple of years ago.”

  “Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage to my family?” His jaw tensed.

  “Is everything okay here, Grady?” An older waitress walked over and put her arm on his.

  “It’s fine, but I can’t take her order.” He continued to glare at me. “You can, but I won’t.”

  I watched him stormed off and walked around a corner, disappearing.

  “I’m not sure what that was about, but what can I get you to eat?” she asked.

  “I’ll have the BBQ chicken sandwich platter.” I drew my eyes back to her and wondered if I should even stay here at all.

  It was my chance. The chance I needed to see what Ava knew.

  My stomach won out and my desire to see if Grandy Jr. would talk to me. He had to come out of hiding if he was working. It wasn’t long until my food was sitting in front of me. I wasn’t able to give a great comparison if it was the best BBQ in the state because I’d not tried any other BBQ in my short stay, but it was really good and something I’d go back for.

  “Jr! Can you fix the cash register?” The yell made me look up from the last bite I had.

  Another waitress was standing in front of the register poking all sorts of the buttons before Grady Jr. had popped his head from around the corner he’d disappeared in to. He looked at me, grumbled something under his breath and walked around to help her.

  I watched him check some cords and cables before the beeps of the old register were back to life. My waitress had stuck my paper bill under the water glass. I pulled the cash and the tip from my purse, sticking it too under the glass.

  “You’re the best.” She patted him with a big smile on her face.

  “Grady,” I called over loud enough for him to hear me, but quiet enough not to draw attention.

  He gave me one last stare before
he disappeared again. If I was going to find Ava, it was going to be on my own with no help from Grady. I gave the inside of the diner another good once over to see if he was anywhere near, but there wasn’t any sign of him. The best I could figure was that he’d had one of the many waitress who took a few lookies my way giving him the 4-1-1 on my still being there.

  I didn’t want to make his life any more complicated than Paul had made it, so I decided to count talking to him as a loss and get out of there. I could tell Detective Hank what I was up to and maybe he’d be able to get some information from the kid, if he’d not already been there.

  I checked the time and noticed there was still plenty of time to go into town and ask around or even find a library with some deeds or something, anything to find out where they lived.

  The sun was well past high noon, but the warmth of the rays felt good. I stopped next to the Ford and leaned against it, closing my eyes and lifting my chin to the sun. Hopefully, I could get to see Ava before I left town and had plenty of time to drive back to Happy Trails to get some things done around the lake. I was one step closer to me basking in the sun for some much needed R&R.

  “Exactly what do you want to accomplish by talking to my mama?” Grady Jr.’s voice came from the side of the building. He was leaning against the wall with one foot holding him up and the other one flat against wall.

  “Not that it should be a big secret, but I know that your dad and my ex had been friends a long time. If you’ve even kept up with the papers or the news, you know that I had no idea Paul was doing this to me, your parents or anyone else.” I took a couple of steps closer to him. “I’m trying to move on with my life and now that he’s dead, I’m trying to make good on some of those he broke.”

  “Let the FBI do that. From what they told my mama, she might not get all the money back, but she might get some after all the assets have been taken.” There was some hope in his voice that I hated to squash.

  “All the assets have been taken and divided up.” By the look on his face, my words didn’t make matters better. “And I also understand that your dad has been missing since Paul turned up dead.”

  “Are you saying my dad killed Paul, because if he did, he’d be the hero in this whole situation.” Grady seemed to be taking up for his dad, which was expected.

  “I’m not saying that. I am saying that a few people who I’ve gotten to know pretty well the past couple of days and who were also victims of Paul’s Ponzi scheme are suspects in his murder. I know they didn’t do it and I’d like to talk to your mom about the days leading up to your dad’s disappearance.” I decided that just being truthful might get me some brownie points. “I’m just being honest to why I’m here. Nothing more.”

  He looked the opposite way and was quiet for what seemed like minutes, though in reality probably just seconds. He shoved off the wall with his foot and stood straight up.

  “Fine. I’m off now, no thanks to you.” He spit on the ground. “You can follow me. I’ll take you to our house.”

  “Thank you, Grady Jr.” I smiled. “It’ll be good closure for you too.”

  “You can call me Jr. And I hope this is the end, because your husband really did a number on our family,” he muttered over his shoulder as he walked up to a beat up, two-toned car that was so used I couldn’t even make out the maker. But I sure did notice the paper tag on the back that was a sign it was new to him.

  Just another reminder of how Paul had changed many lifestyles and this young boy was no different.

  FOURTEEN

  Paul wasn’t joking when he’d tell me stories about the Cox’s house. Whenever Paul told a tale about people who had a lot more money than we did, I thought maybe he was stretching the truth a little to be more humble himself, but this was not the case.

  The sprawling acres of the greenest grass, black Kentucky fence-posts, and grazing horses was just the front of the property after I’d driven through the gate where Jr. had punched in a code.

  There were people on mowers, trackers, and all sorts of equipment I didn’t recognize. In the distance, I could see what appeared to be a race track where men were mounted on big brown horses and riding them. Some were at a trots pace, while others were full speed ahead. It was a working race horse farm just like Paul had said. It was probably the only thing he was truthful about in our marriage.

  The barns were luxurious on the outside and looked exactly like the house we’d pulled up in front of minus the grand marble staircase leading up to the double front doors.

  “This is where you live?” I gawked after we’d parked and I’d gotten out.

  “One more week here.” His voice cracked. “We can’t afford it now.” He took his cap off his head and ran his hand through his hair. “No thanks to Paul West.”

  “Where will you go?” I asked.

  “Honey, can you come in and give me a hand with the boxes from your bedroom? The movers will be here in a minute.” Ava Cox stood at the front door in a pair of leggings and red baggy top that hung off her right shoulder. Her long black and curly hair was pulled to the side over her left shoulder. Her olive skin was just as beautiful as I’d remembered it, though the brown circles under her eyes told me It’d been a long few months. It was funny the weird stuff you remember about people and I remember Paul telling me that I’d love Ava because she was younger than Grady.

  “Hi.” She trotted down the steps like one of her fine horses. “You must be with Brighton Interiors.” She outreached her hand. “Thank you for taking the time to come look at the paintings.”

  “Mom,” Jr. tried to stop her.

  “I’m sure you’ll find they’re in mint condition and rare.” She was selling me, even though I couldn’t afford the gas to get them back to Normal.

  “Mom!” Jr. stopped her again. “This isn’t the lady from the interior place. It’s Mae West, Paul’s wife.”

  “Ex.” I was really getting tired of correcting people. Maybe I needed a sign to pin on me or one of those fancy necklaces that women wore with their name, but I’d say Paul’s EX wife.

  “What do you want?” The sweet southern hospitality I’d received when she thought I was the interior chick had completely left every bone in her body “Why did you bring her here?” she demanded of Jr.

  “Ava,” I gulped because the look she gave me when I used her name was one that told me I’d almost crossed the line. “If I may call you Ava,” I said again relieved not to be smacked by her. “I came to town to actually talk to you, scorned woman to scorned woman.”

  “My husband didn’t scorn me,” she was quick to retort.

  “No, but my husband did both of us wrong and I’m trying to make things right,” I said.

  “Then I’ll take fourteen million dollars in cash.” She nodded and when I didn’t say anything, she said, “I didn’t think so. Get her out of here before I call the police.” She turned and walked back up the stairs.

  “Please. Just a minute of your time and I’ll leave forever. Please,” I begged.

  “Mom, just hear what she has to say. If you don’t, then we can’t move on from all the thoughts and questions in our head.” Jr. did the sideways walking next to her, almost tripping on the top step. “You said that if she were ever in front of you, you’d let her have it.”

  My eyes grew big.

  “Now’s you’re chance. That’s why I brought her here.” He jumped in front of the double doors to block them. “Let her have it.” He socked one fisted hand in his palm.

  “Fine,” she said, pushing Jr. aside and going in to the house.

  “Come on.” He gestured to me.

  “She’s not going to really let me have it, is she?” I asked slowly walking up the steps.

  “No.” He actually smiled. “Though it’d be funny.”

  Jr. was actually starting to grow on me. I remember I’d found him in our pool house at the reception after the actual wedding reception with some booze he took from the bar. He was clearly underage. He begged me
not to tell his parents. Luckily, I’d gotten there before he did too much damage and I kept his secret, taking the rest of the booze with me.

  “Remember I found you, I kept that secret,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah. That’s why I brought you. You’re not so bad, maybe bad taste in men, but not a bad person.” His jaw finally softened as well as his eyes, uncovering the deep hurt that was so clear in them now.

  “I am sorry,” I wanted him to know that.

  “I know,” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “The kitchen is that way and if I know my mom, she probably taking one of those fancy coffee cakes out the freezer to defrost that she keeps in there for just in case company.”

  “I could use some of that right now.” I patted his arm and walked back to where he’d pointed.

  I didn’t want to comment on how amazing her home was because I knew it was no longer her home, but the FBI’s.

  “I’m sorry.” I looked around the custom kitchen. It had all the bells and whistle no one ever needed. I could relate. All the marble, designer cabinets, buttons that made things come out of the counter and hide back down. I looked around at the walk-in butler pantry with all the Kitchen Aide appliances along with all the spices and ingredients. Even the lighting was fit for a palace with all the crystals or maybe they were diamonds. The large wall of glass was just a visual reminder of the horse farm right outside of these walls. “I just went through this.”

  “I want to tell you I’m sorry, but I’m not there yet.” She took a plate out of the microwave that had the fancy coffee cake on it. “But I’m a southern lady, and I can swallow my pride to have a few of my questions answered.” She put the plate on the island. “I wish I could offer you a seat, but they’ve been taken along with the rest of my furniture.”

  “I’m fine.” The pastry did make my mouth water.

  “How did you not know your husband was doing this?” she wasted no time with pleasantries.

  “He went to work, came home at decent hours. There were never any luxury gifts or vacations.” I reached for a slice and put it on a napkin she’d practically thrown at me. Under her trying to be tough exterior, I knew there was a lot of hurt inside. “I went to play tennis, had a few women’s clubs and friends.”