by Gayle Leeson
“Sheriff Billings and I are going through them today,” said Ryan. “I didn’t know there were so many people in Winter Garden.”
“There’s that many?”
“Quite a few. It’s surprising.”
“And . . . uh . . .” I hesitated. “There’s a file on me?”
“Oh, yeah. I can hardly wait to see what’s in that one.” I could hear the laughter in his voice.
“It’s not funny. There could be something weird in there.”
“Like what?” he asked. “Are you telling me there are skeletons in your closet?”
“No, but he could’ve made something up.”
“Amy, he couldn’t blackmail you with something he made up and had no proof of. I’m getting the impression he needed to have solid dirt on the people he was manipulating.”
I groaned. “That’s terrible. Why couldn’t Mr. Lincoln just try to persuade people over to his way of thinking with the facts . . . and maybe a little charisma?”
“Apparently, he wasn’t good at that. He couldn’t convince you to sell the Down South Café.”
“That’s true,” I said. “So . . . will you tell me what’s in my file in exchange for a piece of cake?”
“Why, Ms. Flowers, are you attempting to bribe an officer of the law?”
“Um . . . would you take it?”
He chuckled. “I might. But depending on what’s in that file, it could cost you an entire cake.”
I knew he wouldn’t tell me anything about the file—or any of the others, for that matter—but I would definitely love to see what George Lincoln had in mine. What could he have possibly found interesting enough about me to put into a file? Hmmm . . . I had won that Most Virginal Toga contest at the beach during spring break one year.
Chapter 9
Leaving Mom with her cell phone and strict instructions to call me if she needed anything at all, I went to the Down South Café to work the lunch shift. I hated that Jackie had been shorthanded today and was relieved when I got to the café and saw that she’d called in Donna, our part-time waitress.
I thanked Donna for coming in.
“Oh, I’m glad I could help. How’s your momma?”
“She’s feeling much better,” I said. “Thanks.”
I went into the kitchen. Jackie was at the stove adding chili powder to a pot. She looked as tired as I felt. I put my purse in the pantry.
“How’re you doing?”
“Still holding my eyes open,” she said. “How are you?”
“Okay. Why don’t you go on home? I’ll take it from here.”
She shook her head. “Not until this chili is finished.”
“I appreciate everything you’ve done today.” I searched her face, but she stubbornly kept looking into the pot she was stirring. “It can’t have been easy, given everything on your mind.”
She finally turned to look at me. “How’s Aunt Jenna?”
“She’s doing fine.”
“What caused her fall?” she asked, lowering her eyes.
“It was simply a freak accident.”
Jackie barked out a humorless laugh. “And Renee left her to fend for herself?”
“It’s possible she doesn’t know Mom fell.”
She looked up sharply. “Yeah, right. Last night was typical Renee behavior . . . except for the part where she took Granny with her. She’s used to leaving people behind.”
“I know.”
“Have you heard anything from Ryan?” she asked.
“He called just before I left the house. He didn’t have much to report—only that the patrolman on duty last night gave Aunt Renee a speeding ticket and that since Aunt Bess was with her of her own free will, they couldn’t make Aunt Bess get out of the car or anything.”
“Did Granny seem scared?”
“He didn’t say,” I said. “But I believe the officer would’ve found an excuse to detain them had he felt Aunt Bess didn’t want to be with Aunt Renee. Maybe Aunt Bess just thinks she and Aunt Renee are on a road trip . . . or maybe she’s hoping she can talk some sense into her.”
Jackie nodded. “I’ll go to the big house and stay with Aunt Jenna while you’re working.”
“You need to get some sleep.”
“I’ll be all right. If she doesn’t need me, I can take a snooze on the couch. I’ll let you know if we need anything . . . or if we hear from Granny.”
“Thank you, Jackie.”
“No problem.”
She left, and I got busy patting out hamburgers and putting them between squares of waxed paper.
Donna called to me from the dining room. “Amy, there’s somebody here to see you!”
I took a deep breath and slipped my gloves off and into the garbage can. It wasn’t Ryan, or Donna would’ve said so. I prayed it wasn’t bad news about Aunt Renee and Aunt Bess.
I stepped out of the dining room to see Dr. Kent standing at the counter. “Hi, Dr. Kent. How are you?”
“I’m fine. Actually, I’ve come to see about you, dear, or—rather—your mother. I understand she suffered some sort of fall last night.”
Goodness, I’d forgotten how quickly news spread in a small town.
“Yes, sir, she did. She hit her head on the corner of a dresser. At the emergency room, they told her she had a mild concussion. She’s much better today.”
“Glad to hear it. Please keep a close eye on her for the next day or so.” He handed me his business card. “Should she have any slurred speech, dizziness, trouble with her motor skills—anything out of the ordinary—please call me immediately. I live here in town right over my office, and I can get to her faster than the ambulance.”
“Wow, thank you. That’s very kind.”
“You’re quite welcome.” He steepled his fingers. “I wasn’t able to help one person in time this week. I don’t want that to happen again.”
“Oh, Dr. Kent, I’m sure you did everything you could do for Mr. Lincoln.”
“Yes, of course,” he said. “There was nothing anyone could do at that point.”
Shelly walked to the counter with a coffee cup that needed refilling. “I wonder if Mr. Lincoln died from a bad combination of drugs. You know, like some of those movie stars do sometimes. Somebody in town was speculating about it yesterday evening.”
“I couldn’t say. I wasn’t privy to the medical examiner’s report.” He glanced at his watch. “Again, Amy, should you or your mother need me, please give me a call.” He nodded at Shelly. “Good day.”
“Bye!” She came around the counter to refill the cup, looking over her shoulder to watch Dr. Kent leave. Lowering her voice, she said, “He shouldn’t need to talk to the medical examiner. He was Mr. Lincoln’s doctor. He should know what medications the man was taking.”
Donna joined us and handed me a customer order. “Not necessarily. Think about those stars you were talking about, Shelly. They were seeing more than one doctor.”
“Yeah, but this is Winter Garden. Who here does stuff like that?”
“You might be surprised,” I said, thinking of Aunt Renee, her possible addictions, and her taking off with Aunt Bess. “Besides, he might’ve felt sick, looked in the medicine cabinet, and taken something either over-the-counter or prescribed for his wife if he did indeed die from a bad combination of drugs. At this point, that’s just a rumor.”
“You never know.” With a shrug, Shelly took her customer the coffee.
“Did I mention extra cheese on that burger?” Donna asked. “Because the customer did ask for extra cheese.”
• • •
Homer came in just before closing time. He sauntered up to the counter and motioned me over with a jerk of his head.
I’d been cleaning up the kitchen and was wiping my hands on a dish towel when I approached the counter.
; “Hope you ain’t washing your hands of me, sweetheart.” He said sweetheart in a bad Humphrey Bogart impression.
I felt my eyes nearly pop out of my head. That was new. “Who’s your hero today?”
“Sam Spade.”
That was new. I’d never known Homer’s hero to be a fictional character before. Of course, I used to wish that Sabrina, the Teenage Witch, was my older sister, so who was I to judge?
He gazed around the empty café. “You know, doll, when a guy in a man’s town is killed, a fellow’s supposed to do something about it. Doesn’t matter what he thought of the guy. He was a resident of Winter Garden, and I’m supposed to do something about it.”
“Actually, you aren’t supposed to do anything about it, Homer. The police are. I think you’ve done an admirable job up to this point, but we need to just let the authorities handle it.”
He spread his hands. “I don’t mind a reasonable amount of trouble.”
“Well, I do.” I folded the dishcloth and placed it on the counter. “I’d like a little peace for a while.”
“I can imagine.” He’d changed his voice back to normal, and I was glad. “When I came for breakfast this morning, Donna told me about your mom. I was really sorry to hear that she’d had an accident.”
I traced the stripe in the dish towel with my fingertip.
“I also heard about your aunt,” he continued. “Somebody said she kidnapped Aunt Bess.”
It couldn’t have been easy for Jackie to be working with people speculating about her mom speeding away with Aunt Bess in the car. “I can tell you that Aunt Renee passed a breathalyzer test . . . and you know as well as I do that Aunt Bess wouldn’t go anywhere she didn’t want to go.”
“That’s true enough. And although people were whispering, and I reckon she knew that—and even expected it—everybody tried to be considerate of her feelings.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“This situation is hard for everybody. Renee’s family. And you might not always like her, but you love her.”
“Exactly.” I smiled. “You’re a wise man, Homer.”
“Well, Mrs. Spade didn’t raise any dippy children and neither did Mrs. Pickens.”
I laughed. “No, I guess they didn’t.”
“How is your mom?” he asked.
“She’s doing better. Actually, Dr. Kent was in here earlier and told me some stuff to watch for . . . said if she had any of those symptoms to call him.”
“She’ll be fine.” He lowered his chin and clucked his tongue. “Later, doll.” He turned and I supposed he was trying to look debonair as he left, but he ran into the corner of a table. “I’m okay!”
I stifled a giggle as he walked out the door.
I went through the kitchen and locked the door, then locked the front door as I left. I got into my yellow Beetle. The car was sticky hot. I removed the windshield sunshade, started the engine, and blasted the air conditioner.
Even though I had to shout to be heard over the engine and the air conditioning—and had to have Jackie do the same—I called to check on Mom and to make sure there was nothing she needed. Jackie assured me that everything was fine. She and Mom were watching a game show. I didn’t ask if they’d heard from Aunt Bess. If they had, she’d have either called me as soon as they’d heard, or she would’ve told me first thing when I called.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” I said. “I believe a nice, hearty dinner would do us all good. What do say to my calling Ryan, Sarah, and Roger and inviting them to the house for some chicken and dumplings, fried green tomatoes, and strawberry shortcake?”
“I don’t know if we’re up to it.”
I knew Jackie wasn’t in the mood to entertain, but if company didn’t come over, she’d sulk and worry all evening.
“I think we are up to it. Besides, we’ve got to eat—they’ve got to eat. What do you say?”
“Do whatever you want,” she said.
“Could you put Mom on, please?” I waited for Jackie to hand over the phone.
“Hey, there,” Mom said.
I told her about my idea and asked if she would mind company for dinner.
“No, I don’t care if you invite a few people to join us. It might help take our minds off everything.”
“Is there anything in particular you’d like from the grocery store?” I asked.
“Yes.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “A pint of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. All for me.”
I laughed. “You’ve got it.” I paused. “You know, we could still have a terrific meal, and just have a girls’ night in.”
“No. I want your friends to come. It . . . it’ll be nice to have them here.”
There was a hint of something she wasn’t saying. I guessed she wanted Ryan to be with us if and when he got any information about Aunt Bess.
• • •
As I was getting Mom’s pint of ice cream out of the grocer’s freezer, I heard a vaguely familiar voice at my side.
“Oh, man, that looks delicious!”
I turned. It was Joyce—George Lincoln’s secretary.
“Hi, Joyce! How are you?”
“Well, I’ve had a day, I tell you. I might have to get some of that ice cream myself.”
“That bad, huh?”
She rolled her eyes. “George’s brother, Thomas, came into the Chamber today. He told me he wanted to see his brother’s office. I felt uncomfortable allowing him to go in, but I did. I mean, what could I do? George was his brother. And he’s dead. Even if they didn’t get along all that well, they were family, right?”
“Exactly. Besides, what harm could it do?”
“That’s what I thought. I mean, the police have already been all over the office, so I guess they got what they needed.” She flipped her palms. “I’m guessing the poor man was simply looking for a place to go to feel close to his brother. I mean, he couldn’t go to the Lincolns’ house, after all. Did you hear about that fiasco?”
“I heard that Mrs. Lincoln went to stay with her sister for a few days,” I said.
“Of course she did. She thinks her life is in danger now too. It makes me wonder just what she and Mr. Lincoln might’ve been involved in, you know?”
I had no response to that, so I just nodded.
“As for Thomas, I tried to give him some privacy, but it was also my duty to make sure he wasn’t carrying anything off that belonged to the Chamber. I don’t suppose it would’ve done any harm for him to take some little keepsake that belonged to George, but I couldn’t have the man messing in Chamber business, could I?”
“You certainly couldn’t.”
“And I didn’t really want him to take a memento either,” she said. “Mrs. Lincoln might think I took it or something.”
“Did Mr. Lincoln’s brother appear to have taken anything from the office?”
“No.” She furrowed her brow. “But I’d better go back and make sure. Heaven knows, I don’t want my head to wind up on the chopping block.”
With that, she turned and scrambled off.
Chapter 10
Roger had knocked off work a little early and was the first to arrive. He brought Mom a colorful bouquet of roses, daisies, and carnations. Jackie was in the living room with Mom, and Roger followed me into the kitchen.
“How is she?” he asked.
“Which one?” I opened the cabinet under the sink and found a clear crystal vase.
“Well, both, I guess.”
“Mom seems to be doing fine. She and Jackie are more worried about Aunt Bess than they’re letting on—I am too, for that matter—and Jackie is torn between feeling angry toward Aunt Renee and hurt because her mother has let her down again.”
“That seems to be her usual emotional battle concerning her mom,” Roger said. “I knew Renee wasn’t a big part o
f Jackie’s life anymore, but I had no idea things between them were as bad as they are. Or that they were having these issues even before Jackie went to live with her grandmother.”
“Aunt Renee has always thought more of herself than she has of her daughter or anyone else, and that’s a crying shame. But what’s worse this time is that now that Aunt Renee has disappeared with Aunt Bess, Jackie is afraid that the woman who’s been more of a mother to her than Aunt Renee ever dreamed of being might wind up hurt.” I arranged the bouquet in the vase, added water, and then carried the vase to the dining room table.
“Dinner smells good,” Roger said.
I smiled. “Thanks. We’re having chicken and dumplings.”
“I love chicken and dumplings.”
“Then it’s good I’m making plenty.”
Jackie came into the kitchen and greeted Roger with a quick kiss. “Need any help?” she asked me.
“Nope. I’ve got everything under control. Is Mom still doing all right?”
She nodded. “Seems to be.”
As I took the biscuits out of the oven, the doorbell rang. “Jackie, would you mind getting that?”
It was Sarah. She, too, asked if I needed any help.
“You all three can help me carry dishes to the dining room if you will,” I said. “Roger, would you grab that strawberry shortcake?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He picked up the dish and headed for the dining room.
“Did John have to go back to school already?” Jackie asked.
Sarah nodded. “His summer session started back up today.”
By the time we had the table set, Ryan had arrived. After we all settled in at the table and filled our plates, I asked him if he’d heard anything about Aunt Renee and Aunt Bess.
“As a matter of fact, I have. A friend of mine who’s with the Tennessee State Police called this afternoon and reported that Renee’s car was found in Sevierville.” He shrugged. “Is it possible that the two women just decided to go shopping?”
“I doubt it,” Jackie said sharply. “Who knows where they’ll go next? Somebody needs to put the brakes on this—on her—now before she hurts Granny or anybody else.”
