A Sinister Slice of Murder: A Jessie Delacroix Murder Mystery (Whispering Pines Mystery Series Book 1)
Page 9
“Yes. And small tastes of big dishes, together with my world famous soups and finger sandwiches, will make this the best Tea Room in Georgia. I wonder…maybe a pastry chef, with some savory talents, would be the way to go.”
“We’ll see, Carlo. I want to talk to the candidates too. And get a woman.” I really didn’t need a twenty-something bucket of raging male hormones sniffing around my skirt and trying to see through my blouse – or, worse yet, knocking up my waitress.
“Slow day. It feels kind of nice for a change.” Lexi came into the kitchen without an order to put in. “Maybe I’ll send Ashley home, though I don’t really want to work until closing.”
“No, Lex, don’t send her home. I need you.”
“For what?”
“I told Benji Wilkes that I’d meet him at the Swamp Fox for Happy Hour today. Why don’t you and Kyle come too?”
“It’s about time you started socializing a little. Benji’s a great guy. Why don’t you just take this chance to get, you know…close?”
“I just think his idea of ‘close’ is probably a lot different than mine right now. I don’t want to start something, and I don’t want to string him along. I just want it to be a group of friends having a couple of drinks.”
“I get it. Happy Hour would be kind of nice, actually – even though I can only have soft drinks now.” She patted her tummy, and then I could see Lexi’s managerial gears start to turn in her head. “Katy Lyn can watch the two younger ones, and I’ll have Kyle drop off some Dairy Queen burgers and Blizzards for them before he joins us. That should keep them happy enough.”
I admired her on-the-fly logistical wizardry. “Thank you, and I will buy the first round.”
“Maybe the second one too.” She smiled and went back into the dining room.
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Chapter Twelve
The Swamp Fox was an old lodge constructed of rough-sawn timbers and sat just a mile south of the main drag on Apalachee Avenue, which became Highway 51. We passed the new Go-Kart track on the way.
So that’s where they put it. Good spot.
I pulled my Silverado into the gravel parking lot and swung around to park next to the pole sign at the entrance to the lot for a quick getaway. The brightly-lit hand painted sign was a lot nicer than the bar. There was a motorcycle by the door, which I was pretty sure belonged to Benji. Kyle’s car was there too.
The ‘Fox’ was even more dreary than I remembered it, but it was all we had. Lexi and I stepped through the spring-loaded screen door and were immediately greeted by the odor of smoke and grease blended with a touch of stale urine. The low, yellowed ceiling was barely a foot above my head, and the dim lights guided us into the bowels of the Swamp Fox as 1960s country tunes blared on the jukebox.
I didn’t recognize the bartender. Rumor had it that old Harold and Phyllis were thinking about selling the place and retiring to Central Florida, and I hoped that the guy behind the bar, who might have been an extra from The Walking Dead, would not be the one to buy it. Maybe some energetic new owners would actually whip this place into shape. As long as they didn’t turn it into a B&B, that would be something I would like to see – as would the entire under-50 crowd in Whispering Pines.
I looked at the bartender and shouted over the music. “Is your deck open out in back?”
“It sure is, lady. There are two gentlemen back there now, but most of our guests prefer the atmosphere in here. Ain’t got no speakers for the music out there.”
I nodded, and we headed for the daylight coming through the window on the back door. Most of their guests must be rats and bats and deaf people with no sense of smell.
Benji stood up when he saw Lexi and me come through the door, so Kyle figured he should stand too. My “date” looked ruggedly handsome in his black leather vest as a natural russet curl fell onto his forehead and his eyes sparkled like ginger snaps.
“McSteamy,” Lexi whispered in my ear.
The button-down blue plaid shirt under his vest, instead of a white T-shirt, indicated that he had dressed up for the occasion.
“Jessie, you’re looking fine. Lexi, good to see you.”
Kyle had to compete. “You look beautiful, babe. Come on and sit down.”
He pulled out the chair for his wife and greeted me as Benji got me seated. Chivalry made me nervous.
The haggard middle-aged waitress seemed the perfect reflection of the bar as she followed us out to get our order. She exhaled a huge puff of smoke and flicked her lit cigarette butt out over the rail of the deck.
“Iced tea, dear?” Kyle asked Lexi, and she nodded.
“Okie doke. How about you, Miss?” she asked in a gravelly voice that seemed to roil a throat full of phlegm.
“Chardonnay, please.”
“Just beer and whiskey, Miss. We ain’t had no wine drinkers here since old Lucy Phelps walked out into the swamp and fed herself to the alligators three years ago.”
Kyle and Lexi held back a chuckle, but Benji just looked a little embarrassed.
“Iced tea – and a shot of Jack, then.”
“K. Would you like menus?”
A shiver ran though me. I imagined that their specialty was fried possum tails and gator eyeball soup. Okay, so maybe I was obsessing a little. Anyway, there was no way I was going to eat anything prepared in that place.
“Got a real good special today. Earl went and caught a whole bucket of frogs out in the swamp. They’re pretty good fried up with a little melted butter on ’em.”
She was pulling our leg – wasn’t she? Just trying to freak out the “town” girls?
“Just the drinks for now. Thanks,” I said before anybody else had a chance to place an order. The old girl turned and left, tugging at the backside of her underwear to loosen up a creeping wedgie as she walked away.
Benji and Kyle were talking about the World Series or something, so I took the opportunity to send a text to Lexi.
“I’m going to remind Carlo to order some Bread and Butter pickles,” I lied.
“I already…”
Lexi tried to blow my cover, but I gave her three short shakes of my head to stop her in her tracks. I sent her a text:
PLEASE get us all out of here after this drink!
She felt the vibration in her purse, and I gave her a signal that only a best friend could understand.
“I better check in with Katy Lyn to see how Kramer and Kristin are doing.”
She read my text, and gave me a nod.
The view from the back was really quite lovely, overlooking the end of the meadow with the lush green marsh beyond it.
“It’s hard to believe this place used to be the place to go for good food and fun. Mom and Granny used to take me here to eat every Sunday when I was a girl. I wonder what happened.”
The waitress dropped off our drinks and left again without a word.
“L’Auberge Hantée happened. Great food, right there at the end of the street. That’s when this place started to go downhill,” Kyle said very matter-of-factly, and Benji nodded in agreement.
“Noooo. Ya think?” I never thought about that, but I wasn’t convinced. “But we cater to the tourists, and this place is more for the locals.”
“True.” Benji jumped into the conversation. “But then Your Grandmother and Carlo started building a regional reputation, with magazine articles and some TV reports on the Savannah news. And then you put wine in and opened up that beautiful courtyard. This place is a little off the beaten path too.”
“Actually,” Lexi countered, “they just started serving crappy food here after Phyllis’s sister died. She was the one who knew how to cook. And then when The Great Esmeralda found a cockroach in her soup, she put a curse on the place.” She shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe that’s what did it.”
I was mildly amused at the thought. “Lexi, you and Kyle should buy this place when Harold and
Phyllis retire. It’s on a really beautiful lot, and the local people really need a nice place to go with some music and dancing.”
“Trying to get rid of me, boss?”
“No! Never mind. Bad idea.”
“Just wait for an hour,” Benji said with a grin. “It’s open mike night, so Ralphie will be here with his harmonica, and Earl will probably sing along once he’s done cleaning frogs. Music and dancing, coming right up…”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Lexi volunteered. “Let’s finish up these drinks and go sit in the courtyard at the Inn and watch the sun set behind the pines. It’s so lovely to see, and such a perfect might for it.”
Thank you, Lexi!
It was good to see the tables on the porch along the side and rear of the Nirvana Tea Room quite busy tonight as the sun just started to dip below the tops of the tall pines. We took a table at the very back of the courtyard, with only a few other tables occupied closer to the solarium entrance. There was still a large green lawn between us and the pine trees.
“You guys, let’s try the peach wine, and the peach tea is good too, Lexi. I’m going to run inside…”
“No working tonight, Jessie,” Lexi warned sternly. “We’re out tonight. We just happen to be at the place where we work.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not even going into the dining room. I just want to check on Arthur and I’ll fill up a small platter with some goodies from the kitchen. I’ll be right back.”
The long shadows of the pines were already filling the solarium. I went through into the lobby, but there was no sign of Arthur.
“Arrrrrthur! Where are you boy?”
I went through the lobby door into the kitchen. Mom was hanging over the pass-through window reading a magazine, and Granny was standing over Carlo’s shoulder giving him grief.
“You need to get a fifth of a cup of the chicken salad on every slice, Popeye.”
“There is no such thing as a fifth of a cup…Lily Munster. This is the way that I do it – three nice dollops! Jessica, please take this woman out of here, or else just shoot me. Please. There is a pistol in the walk-in cooler behind the lettuce.”
“You guys, where’s Arthur?” Wait – there’s a pistol in the cooler?
It got very quiet, and nobody would make eye contact with me.
“Mom? Where’s my dog?”
“Your dog, dear? Why…uh…Lionel took him for a walk.”
“Yes! That’s it!” Granny confirmed. “Lionel took little Arthur for a nice long walk. I’m sure they’ll be back before it gets real dark in about an hour. Just go and relax with your friends.”
“How did you know I was with…?” I guess she just knows. “Okay. I’m going to grab some snacks for us.”
I took a stack of finger sandwiches along with some raw broccoli and carrot sticks and turned toward the back door. “Carlo, will you put in a big order of deep fried okra for us, and have Ashley bring it out to the courtyard, please?”
“Ah. Kyle must be with you.”
“Yeah. And Benji and Lexi.”
“I will make a nice platter for you, with fresh and fried finger foods and your favorite dipping sauces, Jessica.”
“You’re the best, Carlo.” He really was.
Ashley waved to me. She was leaving our table in the courtyard after delivering the wine and tea as I stepped out of the solarium.
“Hey, Ashley,” I said loud enough for her to hear, “Carlo will have an appetizer platter for you to bring out to us pretty soon!”
She nodded and gave me a thumbs-up.
By the time my platter of little sandwiches touched the tabletop, three hands were already reaching out to grab one of Carlo’s tasty creations.
“Good thing you guys aren’t alligators. I’d lose a hand.”
“Hey, we’re hungry!” Kyle exclaimed, his mouth already full. “Oh, man…he put warm smoked almonds in this one. That man is a genius.”
“It’s Granny’s recipe.”
“Well, she was always the queen of the finger sandwich.”
Benji was about to take a bite, but then set the little rectangular sandwich back on his side plate and took a handful of veggies. I wish I had that kind of discipline with my eating habits.
I heard a little yelp and turned toward the edge of the pines. The sun was halfway down the trees now, and I had to squint to make out a bouncing figure prancing towards our table. It was Arthur, and he was carrying something in his mouth. The others followed my gaze and looked at the approaching beagle.
“Looks like he’s got a small raccoon or a possum by the fur,” Kyle said.
Whatever it was, it was swinging from his mouth and covered with mud – and so was my muck-drenched pooch.
He slowed down and walked towards our table. Arthur looked at me with calculating eyes, and then decided to go to the other side of the table where he laid his gruesome cargo at the feet of Benji Wiles. That probably won’t endear my precious Arthur and me to Benji, I thought.
Benji’s eyes grew wide and he turned white as a sheet. We all looked at each other, as an eerie shiver ran through us. Could it be?
Kyle leaned over and wiped away some of the mud with his bare hand. Then he announced to us, in the same tone he might use to talk about the weather:
“It’s the severed head of Dane St. George.”
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Chapter Thirteen
“Arthur, why couldn’t you have brought that nice man’s head to the Swamp Fox or the Starlight Horse Ranch, or just put it in the middle of the street a few blocks from here?” I flipped on the flood light above the small maintenance area in back of the Inn just past the courtyard and hosed him down with a good spray from the garden hose.
Arthur lay on his belly on the grass and put his front paws over his face with shame. I guess my tone was too harsh.
“Oh, I’m just teasing you, boy!” I wrapped him in a big white towel and fluffed him dry while I held him and let him lick my face. “I like having the Sheriff and a hundred police cars with flashing lights here at my Inn, Arthur. Well, maybe not…but you are a little hero, and you did something that the police and all their big dogs and boats couldn’t do. You found the head of Mr. St. George; yes you did.”
It was dark now, and the subdued courtyard lamplight illuminated a creature that looked like a zombie emerging from the edge of the pines. He slowly dragged one foot and then the other forward, shifting his weight from one side to the other with every step.
“Miss Jessica, get that hose ready for me.”
It was Lionel, covered in mud and thoroughly exhausted.
“He run off, and I tried to catch him, but he was just too fast for me.”
Lionel made it under the small floodlight with Arthur and me and laid his weary body down on the grass. Flat on his back and arms extended, I bathed him in cold water from the hose nozzle – a little more concentrated stream than I had used for Arthur. He told me the story, turning from front to back several times as I cleaned him off.
It seems that Arthur had scampered away, and he gave chase. My little dog had slowed down to sniff around several times, but he could never catch him. They ended up by the meadow with the butterflies, at which point Arthur dashed into the swampy area full of croaking frogs and came back with the head of Mr. St. George. Lionel got stuck in the mud for a while and had to lie down in the muck to rest. He figured Arthur would dash back home, and he sauntered far behind for half an hour or so. I would have to have a little talk with Mom about her definition of ‘taking the dog for a walk.’
I was hoping to corner Kyle to find out what he learned about the interrogation of Alicia St. George earlier, but now it looked like it would have to wait until tomorrow. A lot of law enforcement and media people knew me by name now, though I only remembered a few of them. Most of them, however, seemed more interested in Carlo’s sandwiches than in the severed head.
“Okay, Arfy-Arf-Arf, let’s go to my room and get you a nice bubble bath now so you’ll smell as sweet as you are. Okay?”
“Arf!”
“Good evening, Miss Delacroix.”
There’s only one man who could eclipse the floodlight light like that.
“Good evening, Sheriff Muldoon.” I turned and raised my head to look at his, but my gaze landed on the top button of his uniform. I had to raise my head much further to see his face. Let me see if I can just slide out of here without getting involved in any police things. “Just let us know if you need anything, Sheriff, and I’ll be in my room in the carriage house over there if you need me.”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s just fine. But we’re going to need your little fella here to guide us to the location where he found the head.”
“But he’s exhausted, Sheriff.”
“We can four-wheel it to the meadow, Sheriff…” Lionel came back out in some dry sweatpants with a sweatshirt over his arm. “…and then Miss Jessica’s little bloodhound can take you into the swamp where he found it. We’ve got four ATVs, and I can have ’em ready for ya in just a few minutes…but I’d sure like to grab a bite before we go.”
Rats. “You’ve done enough, Lionel,” I said. “I’ll take Arthur. I know exactly where to go.” Now I know why Arthur tried to pull me into the frog-filled swamp near the meadow earlier. “But I’m going to have to take him inside for a few minutes, Sheriff. He hasn’t eaten for hours.”
“Ruff!”
“I think he’s sayin’ ‘let’s eat,’ Miss Delacroix.”
“Sheriff…” Lionel pulled his sweatshirt over his head. “…I found this when I was trailing the dog through the swamp. The killer must have tripped on the same buried log that I did.”