“We’re looking for anything that might help us in the investigation of your husband’s murder.”
“And you think you’re going to find it here?”
“Excuse me,” Theenie said, squaring her shoulders, “but this is beginning to sound like harassment to me, waltzing in here at seven-thirty in the morning.”
“Just doing my job, Miss Theenie,” he said.
“Eve Fortenberry is behind this, isn’t she?” Annie said. “You’re trying to pacify her because she flipped out when she learned you’d lost Charles’s remains.”
“What do you mean he lost Charles’s remains?” Theenie asked in a bewildered tone. She looked at Lamar. “Did you forget where you put them?”
“I’d rather not go into it right now,” Lamar said.
“You’re wasting your time,” Annie told him, “but feel free to search all you like.”
“But don’t you dare mess up Annie’s house,” Theenie said, looking from Lamar to the officers. “She works very hard to keep things nice and orderly around here.”
“I’ll need you to round up all your guests,” Lamar said.
Annie frowned. “You mean wake them?”
He sighed. “I’m sorry, Annie. Please ask them to come down.”
She gave him a hard look. “You’re really desperate for leads, aren’t you?”
Once again he looked away. “I’m as eager as you are to get this over with.”
“I’ll wake the others,” Theenie said in a huff as she hurried toward the stairs.
Lamar and his men were quiet as they waited. Annie ignored them and poured another cup of coffee. She found her tablet and sat down at the table, where she began making her list, but her hands shook so badly she could barely hold her pen, much less write.
Destiny was the first to enter the kitchen, shrugging on her bathrobe. Lovelle and Theenie were right behind her. “What the hell is the meaning of this?” Destiny demanded in a hostile voice. “Why would you even think of barging into Annie’s place with a search warrant?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Lovelle said, also wearing a bathrobe. “What could you possibly hope to find?”
“I’ll tell you what he’s looking for,” Destiny said. “He’s trying to find anything he can so he can pin a murder rap on Annie because he has no other leads. Fat chance, Lamar.”
“I would appreciate it if you ladies cooperate and remain in the kitchen while my men conduct the search,” Lamar said, not bothering to address their questions.
“We’d like to start with your bedroom if you would just show us where it is real quick, Mrs. Fortenberry,” the older officer said.
Annie shook her head but stood and led them to the stairs. After reaching the second floor, the officers paused at the open door to the bathroom and glanced inside. “My room is at the end of the hall,” she said as they followed her.
“What’s behind these doors?” the younger officer asked, nodding toward two closed doors that were on opposite sides of the hall.
“They’re bedrooms,” Annie answered, not bothering to stop. “Both are presently rented. This is where I sleep,” she said once they’d reached her room. “Don’t let the frills and ruffles fool you; it’s also where I hide my murder weapons.” The younger officer looked amused.
“This is the room you shared with your late husband?” the other one asked.
“No. I moved out of the master bedroom once he, um, disappeared.”
“We’d like to have a look inside that room as well.”
“I just told you it’s rented. The tenant isn’t here at the moment.”
“We’ll be careful not to disturb anything,” he said. “You may return to the kitchen,” he added politely.
Annie knew it was useless to argue, so she did as she was told. She found Lamar sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of him. Destiny sat at the other end, glaring. Lovelle sipped her coffee quietly.
Theenie looked at Lamar. “When I lose things, which is often, I usually have to write down each place I went that day.”
“I beg your pardon?” Lamar said.
“I was referring to Charles Fortenberry’s remains.”
Suddenly a door slammed upstairs. Peaches raced down the stairs, her fur standing up on her back. She jumped onto one of the empty chairs and curled into a tight ball.
“Who else is in the house?” Lamar asked.
“Nobody,” Annie muttered.
“I clearly heard—”
“It’s the spirit,” Destiny snapped. “If you don’t believe it, go look. You won’t find anyone up there. Anyone who is alive,” she added.
Lamar just looked at her as if unsure what to say or do. He took a sip of his coffee, eyeing Destiny over the rim of his cup.
An hour passed. Annie thrummed her fingers on the table. “How much longer is this going to take?” she said, clearly annoyed. “I have a lot to do.”
“And I need to use the restroom,” Theenie said, getting up from the table. “I’ve held it as long as I can.” She didn’t wait for Lamar’s okay before she left the room.
“This really sucks,” Destiny told him. “I can’t wait until you ask me for help on a case, because I’m going to have a few choice words waiting for you. And don’t even think of asking me out again, because I’ll slug you. And by the way, I hope that new fishing boat of yours sinks. I hope you accidentally shoot yourself in the foot with your gun. I hope—”
“I think I get your point,” a red-faced Lamar answered. He looked at Annie. “May I have another cup of coffee?”
“Let him get it himself,” Lovelle said.
More time passed, and Annie could feel her anger rising with each passing minute. “You’re wasting our time,” she said, “when you could be out looking for the real killer.”
The older officer suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Chief, could you come back here?”
Lamar nodded and got up from his chair. “I’d appreciate it if you ladies kept your seats,” he said.
Peaches jumped down from the chair and walked to her empty bowl. She butted it with her nose until it was right at Annie’s feet. Annie ignored her, and the cat walked away.
“Oh no!” Theenie said after a moment. “Peaches is digging in your favorite plant. I don’t know why she insists on doing it when she knows she isn’t supposed to.”
Annie stared at the cat. “She does it because she knows I don’t like it.” Annie was tempted to ignore Lamar’s order to keep her seat so she could toss the cat outside. Instead, Annie just sat there as dirt flew to the floor. Peaches paused and looked at her, topaz eyes unblinking. Annie wondered why the cat chose to pick on her. She had taken exceptionally good care of the animal. There were times the cat seemed to almost like her, those times when Annie awakened in the morning to find Peaches curled in the bed beside her. But mostly Peaches was a big pain in the butt.
Theenie patted Annie’s hand. “It’ll all be over with shortly. Why don’t we discuss the rehearsal dinner for tomorrow night? There’s an awful lot to do between now and then.”
“I’m not in the mood, Theenie.”
Lamar returned a few minutes later wearing rubber gloves and carrying several plastic bags. He held one up so Annie could get a close look. It was filled with cash. “You recognize this?” he asked.
“No. Where on earth did you get it?”
“There was a little hidey-hole in the master bedroom closet. Someone had cut out a piece of Sheetrock, stuffed the money inside, and put the Sheetrock back in place. There’s almost thirty grand here.”
Annie gasped. “Thirty thousand dollars!”
“Holy mackerel,” Theenie said. She turned to Annie. “I thought you were broke.”
“I am broke!”
“You’re saying you know nothing about the money?” Lamar asked.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Annie told him.
“As I recall, that’s the amount of money your husband took from y
our joint savings. Now, why would he pack his bags and not grab the money?”
“Wait a minute,” Annie said. “Before you just assume that’s the money Charles took from our account, you might want to make sure it doesn’t belong to my tenant Wes Bridges. How do we know that he didn’t put it there for safekeeping? He paid two weeks’ rent with cash.” She knew it sounded dumb, nobody carried that amount of money around, but Lamar’s suspicions didn’t make much sense, either.
Lamar held up the second plastic bag. “Charles’s passport,” he said. “We found it hidden with the money. And this bag.” He paused and held it up. “There’s a one-way plane ticket to Jamaica.”
Annie suddenly felt light-headed. “I didn’t know Charles had a passport. The few times we discussed traveling he said there were several places he wanted to see in this country before he traveled abroad.”
Lamar took the chair beside her. “You know what I think, Annie? I think Charles was in the process of packing his bags when he ran into his killer.”
Annie felt the room spin. She placed both hands flat on the table as she tried to clear her head. “I don’t know what to think. And how come there was only one plane ticket? I can’t imagine him going to Jamaica alone.”
Lamar shrugged as though he didn’t think it pertinent. “Annie, I’m going to have to take you in.”
She just looked at him.
The younger officer stepped forward. “Mrs. Fortenberry, I’m going to have to ask you to stand.”
“What?” Annie looked up. She blinked several times before pushing herself up from the chair. Destiny and Theenie stood as well. Lovelle sat there, looking from one to the other, eyes wide and disbelieving.
The officer pulled a set of handcuffs from his back pocket.
“Hold it right there!” Destiny said. “You so much as try to cuff her, and I’ll claw your eyes out, and put a hex on you. Your wife will leave you, and your house will become infested with termites.”
The man winced and looked at Lamar. “You know I can’t afford to have my place treated for termites.”
“Put those damn handcuffs away,” Lamar said. He looked at Annie. “I don’t know any other way to say this, Annie, but you’re under arrest for the murder of Charles Fortenberry.” He turned to the officer. “Read her her rights.”
It was late afternoon when Wes Bridges stormed into Lamar’s office. He found Jamie Swift and Max Holt sitting across the desk from the man. “I just heard the news. What the hell is going on here?” he demanded of Lamar.
Lamar leaned back in his chair. “Excuse me, but we’re having a private conversation here.”
“Let him stay,” Max said.
Wes kicked the door closed and folded his arms across his chest. “What the hell business do you have arresting Annie?” he demanded.
Lamar opened his mouth to answer, but Max cut him off. “She’s being arraigned late this afternoon. I’ll see that she doesn’t spend a night in jail.”
Lamar shook his head. “Ain’t no way a judge is going to agree to bail on a murder charge.”
“Maybe I’ll get lucky and find a good criminal attorney,” Max replied.
“Not in this town you won’t. The best criminal attorney in the entire Southeast is Cal Nunamaker from Hilton Head, but he only takes high-profile cases, and he charges a bundle. Anyway, he’s semiretired. Spends most of his time on a private island off the coast of Florida.”
Max didn’t respond.
Wes pointed a finger in Lamar’s face. “I’m sick of this bullshit, Tevis. You know damned well Annie didn’t kill her husband.”
Lamar blinked several times as though trying to regain his composure. “Just so happens I have evidence that puts her in a bad light.”
Wes scoffed. “What evidence?”
“It’s no secret,” Lamar said, “but Annie’s husband, I mean her deceased husband, withdrew all the money from their savings account the day before he disappeared. We found the money this morning after searching her house. There was almost thirty thousand dollars stashed in his closet. Annie suggested it might belong to you.”
Wes shook his head. “I don’t travel with that much cash, and it doesn’t prove anything with regard to Annie. She obviously didn’t know the money was there; she assumed her husband took it and ran.”
“It boils down to this,” Lamar said. “Charles Fortenberry was murdered before he had a chance to get to the money, and that same person had to dispose of his body and his luggage before driving his car to the Savannah airport.”
“Once again, that doesn’t prove shit where Annie is concerned.”
“There’s more,” Lamar said. “Annie went to the bank the same day her husband cleaned out the account. She’d obviously hoped to beat him to it, but she was too late.”
“That’s impossible,” Wes said. “She was out of town. Visiting her sick mother,” he added.
Lamar shook his head. “I drove over to the bank yesterday and spoke with the teller who assisted Mrs. Fortenberry, um, Annie, with her transactions the day she claimed she left town. The woman clearly remembered the incident because Annie became real upset when she learned all the money was gone. In fact, Annie was still inside the bank when they locked the door and put up the Closed sign. She insisted on getting all of her important papers from the safe-deposit box.”
Wes shook his head. “There’s been a mistake.”
Lamar handed Wes a slip of paper. “Annie had to sign this when she closed the safe-deposit box. I had the bank manager check the signature. It’s Annie’s all right. It’s dated the same day her husband withdrew the money.” He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on his desk. “Not only that; she admitted she drove to the house to confront him. She claims he wasn’t there, but she can’t prove it, and we don’t know what really happened.
“Bottom line: she lied. People don’t lie unless they’ve got something to hide, and if she lied once, what’s to say she hasn’t been lying all along?” He paused. “Anything else you want to know?”
Wes tossed the slip of paper onto Lamar’s desk. “I think that covers it,” he said. “I’ll get out of your way and let you do your job.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“No, Vera!” Jamie said, standing in the lobby of the police department. “I will absolutely not allow you to take pictures of Annie being led to the courthouse in handcuffs. Isn’t it bad enough that every newspaper and TV station within a hundred-mile radius is out there?”
“How in Hades are we supposed to get a story without a picture?” Vera insisted while Mike shuffled his feet nervously. Vera placed her hands on her hips. “I know Annie is your friend, but we need this story, Jamie. This is hot, especially since they lost her husband’s body. Folks are tired of hearing about Tim Haskin’s bull busting through the fence every other day and how the hair dryer at Susie Q’s Cut and Curl malfunctioned and burned Lorraine Brown’s hair right off her head.”
“Absolutely no pictures,” Jamie said, “and that’s final.” She looked at Mike. “You can continue to write the stories, but as we discussed, I have full editorial control.”
He nodded.
Max nudged Jamie. “I need to touch base with Muffin. I’ll be back before they escort Annie next door.”
“Good. She’s going to need all the support she can get.”
Max hurried to his car and climbed in. “Muffin, are you there?”
“No, I’m sipping a rum and Coke in Tahiti,” replied a voice that Max had programmed to sound like Marilyn Monroe. Muffin was Max’s high-powered voice-recognition computer that ran his business empire and personal life from the dashboard of his car. Muffin had attitude.
“I need you to run a check,” he said.
“Who’s the lucky person?”
Max didn’t hesitate. “I want everything you can get me on a guy named Wes Bridges.”
“Don’t make me angry, Lamar,” Jamie said. “You owe Max and me.”
“I’d listen to her,” Vera said. �
��She’s on a diet.”
Lamar sighed. “Let me get this straight. You want me to allow a murder suspect to attend her arraignment without handcuffs. What if she tries to escape?”
“Oh brother!” Jamie said.
Vera patted her handbag. “I’ve got my .38. I’ll shoot her in the kneecaps.”
Lamar gaped.
“Vera’s kidding,” Jamie said.
“And we want her taken out through the back way,” Max said.
When Lamar hesitated, Vera gave a grunt. “Lamar wants to get his face on TV,” she said.
Lamar was prevented from answering when a white stretch limo stopped in front of the building. A moment later, the driver opened the back door and a blond middle-aged man climbed out. He wore a white tennis outfit that showed off his tanned, well-toned body. Reporters immediately surrounded him, but he merely shook his head and made his way toward the front doors of the police station.
“Holy smokes, it’s Cal Nunamaker!” Lamar said. He looked at Max. “How in the world did you manage that?”
“I asked politely.”
The man pushed through the glass doors of the police station and perused the group with sharp blue eyes. Max stepped forward, shook his hand, and made introductions. “Thanks for agreeing to take the case on such short notice, Cal.”
Nunamaker smiled. “I came straight from the tennis court. Nice airplane you got there, Max. How did you know my favorite dish was lobster thermidor?”
“Just a wild guess.”
Nunamaker looked at Lamar. “Nice to see you again, Chief Travis.”
“It’s Tevis,” Lamar said, blushing.
Nunamaker checked his watch. “I want to see every piece of paper you have on my client. And don’t tell me you’ve put her in a cell, because that’s going to ruin my day.”
Lamar cleared his throat. “We’ve got her in our nicest interrogation room. Matter of fact, we recently had it painted.”
“And another thing,” Nunamaker said, as though he wasn’t listening. “I expect her to be dressed nicely at the arraignment. No jailhouse clothes or handcuffs, you got that?”
“I’m on it.” Lamar hurried away.
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