The Folly Beach Mystery Collection Volume II

by Bill Noel

  I returned her smile. “Could be.”

  “Okay, here goes. My gut tells me that I don’t know. Their actions struck me as strange.”

  “Strange enough for me to share with Chief LaMond?”

  “You know her better than I do. What would she do with the information?”

  “First, she’ll give me a lecture about nosing in her business. Let’s see, second, she’ll repeat the lecture adding a few East Tennessee phrases that mean I’m a jackass.” I paused and thought about previous times I’d shared none-of-my-business thoughts with Cindy.

  Barb said, “Third?”

  “She’ll hang up on me or say something like, ‘Okay, buttinsky, tell me again who these guys are, what they said about Joy, and when they checked out?’”

  She took another sip of coffee, looked at my phone I’d set on her desk, and said, “What are you waiting for?”

  Two rings later, Chief Cindy LaMond answered with, “This better be important. I have a meeting in five minutes with the mayor and rumor is that he’s spittin’ nails about how one of my brilliant officers shared his displeasure with a vacationer from Vermont about the speed in which he was traversing East Erie Avenue.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to be late for your pleasant conversation with His Honor. Call me when you get a chance.”

  I told Barb that by hanging up on me, the chief meant that she’d love to call me.

  Neither of us believed it.

  19

  One thing I’ve learned over the years is if I’m walking on Center Street, there’s a good chance I’ll see someone I know. The appropriately named street is only five blocks long, yet most all the island’s restaurants and retail establishments are either on it or within a block.

  Since the weather was picture-perfect, I left Barb’s books and turned right and ran into Cal, more accurately, he ran into me. He was walking with his head down and humming “White Christmas.” I put my hand out to keep him from stepping on my foot.

  “Oh, sorry. Guess I was daydreaming.” He tipped his Stetson in my direction.

  “Are you ready for your party?”

  “Yes, umm, no, well maybe.”

  “Glad you clarified that,” I said and smiled at the crooner.

  “That’s where my mind was wandering when I plum near ran you down. Trying to figure out what else I need to do.”

  “While I’m thinking of it, I talked to Joy, and she’s planning on being there.”

  “How’s her memory?”

  “A few are coming back.”

  “She know who she is, other than Joy?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I remember how screwed up I was after getting conked on my noggin. It’s harder for her.” He shook his head. “Not even knowing any of the who, what, where, and whys of her life.”

  “True.”

  Cal said, “Heard more about Pluto?”

  “I haven’t talked to Dude today, so I don’t know if the pup’s still missing.”

  “That’ll be a mighty big Christmas double-downer. No memory and no Pluto.”

  I agreed and told him that if he needed help to get ready for his party to give me a call.

  “Much obliged, pard.”

  He tipped his Stetson again and moseyed on.

  I walked two more blocks to the Folly River Park, the site of several oversized Christmas decorations and the official city Christmas tree. The lights were on, but the cloudless day made it difficult to appreciate the illuminated displays. Regardless, there were two young mothers holding toddlers and pointing to the outline of Santa’s sleigh and then at the tree.

  At the edge of the park a foot pier crossed a portion of marsh and jutted over the Folly River. Leaning on the wood railing at the far end of the pier was a familiar, bright red University of Arizona Wildcats sweatshirt wrapped around Charles Fowler. He appeared in deep-thought as he stared at the water and didn’t notice me walking toward him until I was within a few yards.

  “Hi, Chris. Nice day, isn’t it?”

  I said, “What’s wrong?”

  “Why think something’s wrong?”

  I shrugged. “Hi, Chris. Nice day. Charles, that’s something a normal person would say.”

  He shook his head and returned to gazing at the water. “Sorry I didn’t insult you.”

  I stood close to him and waited for him to continue.

  We watched several cars cross the bridge to the island and Charles finally said, “It seems that this year’s been mired in deep manure. Poor Heather was thrown in jail and accused of killing her manager and then tried to kill herself. Now she’s gone.” He continued to stare at the slow-moving water.

  Charles and Heather had dated a few years. She was a country music singer and had convinced Charles to move to Nashville with her at the urging of an unscrupulous manager who took her hard-earned money along with her hopes of a singing career. They returned to Folly six months ago with Heather’s dream crushed. She left the island, and left Charles a farewell note, hours before he’d planned to propose marriage.

  I was tempted to say that everything would be okay. Not knowing if it would be, I didn’t say anything.

  Several minutes passed before he said, “Now add to Heather leaving, poor Joy doesn’t know who she is, and may be in danger. And, that’s not even mentioning Dude missing his best buddy.” He looked at me. “Chris, this is a seriously sucky year, and Christmas is almost here.”

  I remained silent.

  He finally said, “Know where I was for two hours this morning?”

  “Malibu,” I said. An absurd answer to a question I couldn’t know the answer to, usually got a smile from my friend. Not this December 22.

  “No,” he said, expressionless.

  “Where?”

  “Sitting outside Martha Wright’s house.”

  “Waiting for the dog sitter?”

  He nodded.

  “Did she show up?”

  He shook his head and said, “Guess.”

  “No.”

  “No, you’re not going to guess? No, you think she didn’t show up, or no to Pluto being there?”

  I should have stuck with Malibu.

  “Did she show up?”

  “No.”

  “Sorry. Want to go back?”

  “Thought you’d never ask.”

  He’d walked to the River Park, so I suggested we go to my house and take my car.

  We ran into Bernard in front of Mr. John’s Beach Store.

  “Y’all looking for Pluto?” he asked to begin the conversation.

  I told him we were and asked if that’s what he was doing.

  “Yes, sir. Dude woke Preacher Burl and me up when he pounded on the door as soon as the sun stuck its head over the ocean. Scared the shi… umm, crap out of me until I saw it was Dude. He said Pluto was still AWOL and wanted to know how long it’d be before we started looking.”

  Charles said, “What’d you tell him?”

  Bernard smiled. “Well, I bit my tongue, so I wouldn’t say I hadn’t planned on looking. The poor little hippie looked so sad. I told him I’d be out as soon as I got dressed.” He pointed to his jacket and slacks. “And, here I am?”

  I said, “I know Dude appreciates it.”

  Bernard started to leave, turned, and said, “Chris, have you talked to Joy this morning?”

  “No, why?”

  “I was heading out and only saw her a second. She’s going to call to tell you she remembered something that could be important.”

  “Thanks, Bernard. I’ll give her a call.”

  He gave me a quick salute and headed the other direction.

  Charles moved to the edge of the sidewalk, leaned against the fence in front of Mr. John’s, and pointed to the pocket that held my phone.

  Message received. I started to call Hope House.

  He grabbed my hand. “Wait. Got a better idea. We need to go see her. That way, both of us can help her remember.”

  I didn’t know if a visi
t would help her remember better, but the best way to improve Charles’s mood was to give him a purpose.

  “Good idea.”

  A block from Hope House, Charles yelled for me to pull over. I pulled between a rusting motorhome and a pile of broken tree limbs. Charles was out of the car before I put it in park. I waited to see where he was going before I opened the door. I didn’t have to go far. Charles jogged between two houses and was returning before I saw what had drawn his attention.

  He said, “Thought I saw him.”

  I waited for his findings.

  “It was a little dog the same color as Pluto.” He pointed between the two houses. “The guy back there was calling Lulu.” Charles sighed. “Not Pluto.”

  I said, “Sorry,” and followed my dejected friend to the car.

  “Thought for sure it was him,” Charles mumbled.

  He appeared sadder now than he’d been when I found him on the walking pier. I pulled in Burl’s parking area and was afraid Charles was going to stay in the car. I was beginning to agree with him that this year was mired in deep manure.

  20

  Preacher Burl waved us in. He said Joy and Adrienne were in the living room watching television. Joy smiled when she saw us, and Adrienne looked like she would have been as well off if we weren’t there. Burl asked if we wanted coffee. I told him that would be nice, and Charles showed as much enthusiasm as Adrienne had shown seeing us.

  “Joy,” I said, “Bernard said you had something to tell me.”

  Burl returned and handed us mugs of steaming hot coffee. He asked the ladies if they wanted more. They declined, and Burl returned to the kitchen to refill his mug.

  Joy watched me take a sip, and said, “Yes, but you didn’t have to come over. I was going to call.”

  I told her we were in the area and thought it would be better to stop.

  “Thank you. Don’t know if this means anything. I woke up around one remembering being in a little apartment. It had a green blanket on the bed and a kitchen so tiny that the table was up against the wall and there was barely room to walk past it. Funny that I would remember those things.”

  “Were you there with the man from the boat?” Charles asked, showing more life than he had all morning.

  She closed her eyes and turned her head from side to side. “I don’t think so. I had the impression it’s where I lived.”

  Charles said, “Remember anything else?”

  “The whole place was small, not much more than a bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom.”

  I said, “Were there windows?”

  Her eyes widened. “I didn’t think of it until you asked. I don’t remember one in the bedroom, just the ugly green blanket. There was a window over the kitchen sink.”

  I leaned closer. “Good, you’re doing great. Let’s say you’re standing at the sink. Can you see anything out the window?”

  She closed her eyes again. “Not really—no, wait, there’s a gravel drive between my building and a long, narrow brick building. There’s a No Parking sign on the building.”

  “Is that all?” interrupted Charles, who has the patience of a puppy.

  “I think so.”

  I said, “Joy, let’s try one more thing. Is there a door leading outside from the kitchen?”

  “Chris, I can’t remember.” She lowered her head and repeated, “I can’t remember.”

  “That’s okay, Sister Joy,” Burl said. “You’re doing good, isn’t she, Chris?”

  “Yes, Joy, you are.”

  Adrienne appeared bored with our conversation and stared at the television. I glanced up to see what was so fascinating and saw a newscaster with a photo of the jewelry store on the monitor behind her. She was talking about the burglary that I’d seen reported on the earlier newscast.

  Burl looked at the screen. “Why is it that such a glorious Christian holiday brings out the worst in people?”

  “Preacher,” Adrienne said, “places get broken in all the time. I don’t think it has anything to do with Christmas.”

  “I suppose you’re right, Sister Adrienne. It’s just that—”

  Joy interrupted, “Turn up the sound.”

  Joy’s tone startled Adrienne. She dropped the remote, uttered a profanity, apologized to Burl, and grabbed the device off the floor.

  All of us were now staring at the television. The story concluded with the newscaster telling her viewers to call the police if they knew anything about the burglary. An auto dealership ad promoting it’s gigantic Christmas sale blared from the screen. Adrienne muted the sound, and Joy continued to stare at the silent screen, and Charles asked who buys someone a car for Christmas?

  I waved for him to stop talking and turned to Joy. “What are you thinking, Joy?”

  She turned away from the television, glanced at Preacher Burl, and then at me. “Chris,” she said, no more than a whisper. “The bar was dark. I had to get a case of beer out of the storeroom. Budweiser. The sound system, actually it wasn’t more than a cheap, grease-covered CD player, was blasting a Bob Segar song.” She hesitated and looked at the floor. “Two men at the end of the bar were huddled together, and…”

  “And what?” Charles asked.

  She looked at him, looked back at the floor, and gazed at the television. “I don’t know.”

  “Joy,” I said, “why did that jewelry store burglary remind you of being in a bar?”

  “I’m not certain. It must’ve had to do with the men.”

  “That’s good, Joy,” I said. “Two men were huddled together. Did you hear something they were saying?”

  She glanced back at the television like it would miraculously give her the answer. “Seger’s ‘Old Time Rock-and-Roll’ was playing. Was loud. Then it stopped.” She jerked her head in my direction. “I heard one of the guys say the name of that store that was on TV.”

  “Grogan’s Fine Jewelry,” Charles said.

  Joy continued to look at me, and said, “Yes.”

  I nodded. “Joy, I know this is hard. Why don’t you close your eyes and try to remember back? You were in a bar, a dark bar. You went to get a case of beer, so do you think that’s where you worked?”

  She didn’t answer but nodded.

  “Okay, good. The two men were talking but you couldn’t hear them because of the loud music.”

  She nodded again.

  “The music stopped, and you heard one of the men say Grogan’s Fine Jewelry.”

  “Said Grogan’s, don’t think he said the rest of the name.”

  “Okay, good. Did you get a good look at the men?”

  She closed her eyes. Charles started to speak. I put my forefinger to my lips. He remained silent.

  “Chris, I’m sorry. No. They faced the other direction. It was dark, so dark.”

  “You don’t remember anything else they said?”

  She shook her head.

  “Joy,” Charles said, “did the men see you listening?”

  Good question, I thought.

  Burl leaned forward and nearly fell out of the chair. He caught his balance, and said, “Do you think they thought Sister Joy heard them planning to rob the jewelry store?”

  Charles tilted his head to the side. “Yes.”

  “And took her so she couldn’t tell anyone?” Burl said.

  “There’s a good chance that’s what happened,” I added.

  Adrienne finally stopped looking at the television and twisted around on the sofa toward us. “Joy,” she said, “do you remember the name of the bar?”

  An even better question.

  “No,” Joy said. She returned to looking at the floor. Her left hand balled in a fist, her right hand trembled.

  “Joy,” I said. “You’ve done great. I know this is rough. Why don’t we stop pestering you and let you rest?”

  Charles glared at me.

  Burl stood and said, “Sister Joy, let me get you more coffee.”

  “Thank you, Preacher,” she whispered.

  “Brother
Chris, Brother Charles, would you like more?”

  “No thanks, Preacher Burl, we need to be going.”

  Charles continued to glare at me. He wasn’t ready to leave.

  “Brother Burl,” Adrienne said, “do you think we, umm, Joy is safe here? What if they come after her again?”

  “Sister Adrienne, the man from Pewter Hardware is coming this afternoon to put on the new locks.”

  “What about the locks to our rooms—to Joy’s door?”

  Burl smiled. “All the doors will get new locks.”

  “Thank you, Preacher Burl,” Joy said, and made a valiant effort to smile.

  “Joy,” I said, “Is it okay if I tell the Chief what you shared?”

  “If it’ll help.”

  “It will, thanks. Please call if you remember anything else.”

  Charles and I stood to leave, and Joy jumped up and gave each of us a hug. Adrienne surprised me when she moved behind Joy and when Joy stepped back, she stepped forward and hugged Charles and me, and whispered, “Thank you for caring.”

  21

  “Why’d you want to hightail it out of there?” Charles groused as soon as we were in the car. “Joy was figuring out what happened.”

  “She was struggling. She couldn’t remember anything else. I was afraid it’d hurt more than help if we pushed her, besides, she said she’d call if she remembered more.”

  He sighed. “She’s close to remembering what happened. The quicker she does, the safer she’ll be. You don’t really think new locks will keep them safe, do you? The burglars broke in a jewelry store. That store’s locks had to be better than whatever Larry installs, and the store had a security system.”

  Charles had a good point. Regardless, Joy will remember when she remembers. We can’t push her. I was going to share that morsel of wisdom with him when the phone rang.

  “Okay,” Cindy LaMond said, “what was so all-fired important for you to call?”

  “Hello, Chief, how was the meeting with the mayor?”

  Charles was flailing his arm around to get me to put the phone on speaker. I did, and he gave a thumb’s up.

  “The bad news is despite the best efforts of one of my officers to get me fired, I’m still chief.”