I hunched my shoulders and picked up the menu. “Not sure,” I said. “But soon.”
“That’s why you hadn’t ordered nothing, Mac?” Viola Rose asked coming back, order pad and pen in hand. “You were waiting on Miss Vivee?”
“A gentleman always lets his lady order first,” Mac was staring at Miss Vivee as he talked.
“I’m not your lady, Mac,” Miss Vivee said.
“You were once, and you shall be again.”
“I do hope that line was from a Shakespearean play, Mac,” Miss Vivee said her eyes perusing the menu. “And in the play the person that says it gets stabbed in the heart by the person he said it to.” She looked up at Viola Rose. “Bring us three iced teas.”
“Make my iced tea a coke,” I said.
“I’m already one step ahead of you, Logan.”
“You’ve stabbed me in my heart more times than I can count, Vivee.” Mac placed his hand over his heart and dropped his head.
“Pshaw.” Miss Vivee said to Mac. She flipped the menu front to back and front again. “Why in the world would they waste money to have these things printed,” She tossed the plastic covered menu on the table. “It’s the same thing they’ve been cooking for thirty years.”
“Egg salad for you then, I’m guessing,” I said.
“If I didn’t eat the horrid stuff when I come, it would all go to waste,” Miss Vivee said.
Just then a light-skinned, black woman walked by our table. Her skin was so fair she could’ve almost passed for white. She was tall, shapely and had long red hair and green eyes.
“Who is that?” I whispered. The town was small and I’d pretty much seen everyone because they’d all come to the Maypop for some of Renmar’s cooking, but I hadn’t seen her before. And far as I knew, Hazel and I were the only blacks in town until Bay came home and then the total population of blacks spiked at three.
“I don’t know,” Miss Vivee said. Then she waved Viola Rose over. Grabbing Viola Rose’s arm, she pulled her down close to her. “Who was that woman?” Miss Vivee said in a low voice, forgetting her manners she pointed at her as she made her way down the aisle to the door.
“I don’t know,” Viola Rose said. “She walked in here, ordered a tuna plate and didn’t say another word. Was pretty interested in the flyer.” Viola Rose pointed to the paper on the table. “But she’s mysterious, don’t you think?”
“The Mystery Woman,” Miss Vivee repeated and turned to look just as I heard the bell on the door jangle, signaling she’d gone out of it. “I sure do hope that she’s not another long lost cousin.”
Chapter Fifteen
“So why are we meeting, Vivee?” Mac asked seemingly oblivious to our Mystery Woman concerns. “Wanted me to tell you how beautiful you look today?”
“Mac! Can you ever just be serious? This is serious.” She leaned across the table. “My daughter may be in trouble.”
“Who? Brie?”
“No. Renmar.”
“What’s happened, Vivee?”
“She may have killed Oliver.”
Mac took her words in with a jerk. He looked around to make sure no one was listening.”
“You think Oliver was murdered?”
“Yes. I do,” Miss Vivee said and sat back. “And so does the FBI.”
This time it was my body that jerked at hearing her words. The FBI didn’t think anything. She was such a little liar.
“And you think Renmar did it?” Mac asked Miss Vivee.
“Can you please try to keep up, Mac? Really, my patience is running thin with you. You’re starting to act just like Logan.”
How did I get into the conversation? I hadn’t even opened my mouth.
“Tell me what happened,” he said, his voice even and calm.
“Logan found an extinct fish on Stallings Island.”
“An extinct fish?” Mac asked. “Couldn’t be extinct if Logan found it.” He looked at me. “Alive - I’m figuring.”
“Yes. Very much alive,” I said. “So correction,” I pointed to Miss Vivee. “A previously thought extinct fish.”
“Can I finish?” Miss Vivee asked.
Mac waved his hand indicating for her to continue.
“We think-”
“Miss Vivee thinks,” I interrupted. I didn’t want to have any authorship in her theories even though she’d gotten them from me.
“We think,” she said again looking at me. “That Renmar has been making her fish stew with a fish that no one knew existed any longer.”
“No wonder she’s won blue medals with that stuff,” Mac said and rubbed his jaw. “It was the food of our illustrious temper-weaving, Native American Indians. I bet you found that exhilarating, Logan.” He smiled at me and took a sip of his iced tea. “So. Renmar killed him over the fish?”
“I’m afraid that might be the case,” Miss Vivee said.
She’d be the perfect prosecutor, she had taken the small tidbit of information I’d given her and built a whole capital murder case around it.
“Logan heard Oliver and Renmar having a big fight the morning he was killed,” she said still explaining to Mac. “She even threatened his life,” Miss Vivee nodded. “You know Renmar is capable of murder. I’ve always said that. I just hope in this case it isn’t true.” Her face showing she firmly believed her conclusions.
She was so matter-of-fact in her statement of Renmar being capable of murder. It was kind of scary for her to be so nonchalant about her saying someone is possibly a murderer. Renmar killed Oliver. I tried to let that sink in. I looked as Miss Vivee and then I thought about her murderous tendencies.
Well, I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
“You had Renmar on your list of suspects when Gemma was killed,” Mac said. “Not a good way for a mother to look at her daughter.” But before Miss Vivee could answer, Viola Rose was back with the drinks.
“Are you ordering anything to eat?” She sat the drinks down and looked around the table. “Or are you using my diner just as your meeting place?” She pulled a pen out of her hair and clicked the tip of it a couple of times.”
“Mac and I will have the egg salad,” Miss Vivee said. “Logan, you want some, too?”
“I’ll have an opened-face turkey sandwich and mashed potatoes” I said. ‘And a salad with ranch dressing.”
“You know you’ve been putting on weight,” Miss Vivee said to me. “You should eat nutritional. Egg salad is good for you.”
“It’s got mayo in it. Gobs of it,” I said.
“I’m sure it’s low-fat,” Miss Vivee looked at Viola Rose. “They make healthy food here.”
I glanced over at Viola Rose’s husband, Gus who was smearing liquid, greasy butter all over his grill.
“I got you,” Viola Rose said to me and smiled as she collected the menus.
“I am having a salad,” I said and looked down at myself. Had I really gained weight? I tugged down on my shirt.
“I’ve got to launch an investigation to clear her name, Mac,” Miss Vivee ignoring me picked back up the conversation after Viola Rose left. “And if you kept up with what I’ve been saying,” she said sarcastically. “You’d see that I put her on my list because she might have done the deed. Daughter or not, I’ve got to keep an open mind if I’m going to solve this thing. And if she did do it, I’ve gotta find a way to help her out. Get her out of town, help her hide out, or something.”
“Bay said that if we tried to investigate Oliver’s death, he’d put us in jail,” I reminded her.
Not even mentioning that now she was trying to plan how to hide a fugitive of the law.
“You are such a tattletale, Logan,” she said, her eyes narrowed. “Were you always like this?”
“I’m just saying.”
Mac leaned over and said in a low voice, “I’d be willing to risk life and limb to help you, Vivee.” He nodded. “Even go to jail.”
He’s already practically given up a limb for her. Had he forgotten she’s the reason he has a l
imp . . .
“So. What you got, Vivee?” Mac asked.
She pulled her notebook and three No. 2 pencils out of her purse. She laid two of the pencils on the table, and licked the granite tip of the third. “Well, let me see,” she said. “Suspects.” She glanced over at Mac while flipping through her new memo pad from Hadley’s. “I have quite a few of them this time.”
“Let’s hear ‘em. Who you got?”
“Well. The first people on my list are those fake cousins. Ron and Charlotte Anderson. Heard they were here at the diner this morning carrying on like fools.”
“Miss Vivee,” I said. “You don’t know that they’re not his real cousins.” I took a sip of my pop. “Viola Rose didn’t say anything about his wife causing problems. And she prefers to be called Charlie.”
“I don’t care if she prefers to be called Queen of the Abused Wives,” Miss Vivee said with a huff. “All they’re after is his money. You heard what Viola Rose said. Heck, I didn’t even think about a will. Who would at a time like this?” She took a sip of her iced tea. “I can answer that. Killers, that’s who.” Miss Vivee pressed her napkin down over her lap. “But if they are the killers, they won’t get a dime. They don’t award murderers an inheritance.”
Miss Vivee seemed to get upset every time she talked about the cousins. She was just going to make them into the murderers even if they hadn’t even been in town at the time and even if it turned out that Oliver hadn’t been murdered.
Although, I did take issue with that big dummy Ron Anderson talking about Bay.
“Tell him who else, Miss Vivee,” I said pointing to her notebook, trying to move the conversation along.
She glanced down at her notebook. “Of course I had to put down Renmar’s name,” she said. She coughed into her hand and then looked back down at her list. “And I’ve got the women that were arguing about who Oliver belonged to the day before he was murdered.”
“Died,” I corrected. I knew my little innuendos wouldn’t deter her from investigating, but I had to try, no matter how much weight they carried with her. “Cause of death is still undetermined.”
“Murdered,” she said defiantly.
I let my eyes drift toward the ceiling.
“Now let me see,” she said again. “First there’s Lindsey Grace. She’s got that white-platinum blonde dye job and the false eyelashes. Speaking like she’s out of breath.”
I laughed. “Like Marilyn Monroe, don’t you think?”
“Have you ever seen Marilyn Monroe?” Miss Vivee scrunched up her nose and shook her head. “She doesn’t look a thing like her.” She dismissed me and my comment with a wave of her hand.
“Then there’s that strawberry blonde girl, Mary Beth Perkins,” Miss Vivee said. “She turned into a wild woman that day in the dining room. I thought I’d have to fix a gallon of tea just to calm her down.” She looked down at her notebook again. “And the one with the highlights in her hair. She’s the third one. I don’t know her name. Yet,” Miss Vivee said with determination. “She doesn’t live in Yasamee. Maybe the next town over, I’m thinking. But I’m not sure.”
“No road trips, Miss Vivee,” I warned.
“We’ve got to interview them. All of them,” Miss Vivee said not caring what I said.
“No road trips, Miss Vivee,” I said it again.
“Stop saying that.” She shot a look at me. “You’re awfully cranky today. And disagreeable,” she said frowning up her face.
Thank goodness Viola Rose came over with the food and drew Miss Vivee’s attention from fussing at me. And it gave her the opportunity to utilize Yasamee’s indubitable gossip grapevine to find out more about Oliver’s trio of true loves.
“Viola Rose, did you hear about that knock down drag out over at the Maypop the day before Oliver died?” Miss Vivee asked.
“I do declare. I didn’t envy you none when I heard,” she said and planted her fisted hands on her hips. “I heard all three of them were madder than a wet hen. And I didn’t understand it one lick. Least when it came to Lindsey Grace. That girl is sweet as peach pie. She’s only been living in Yasamee for a year or two. Never heard about no trouble with her.”
“I remember when she moved here,” Miss Vivee said. “From Dover, I think. Couple towns over. Stayed a day or two at the Maypop. Told me her whole story.”
“Bless her heart. She had just gotten a divorce. Trying to get away from what I heard was a crazy husband and ends up in a crazy love triangle. Don’t that just beat all?”
“I say.” Miss Vivee nodded.
“Wasn’t surprised about Mary Beth though.” Viola Rose shook her head. “She’s always been a fiery one. If she weren’t happy, weren’t nobody gone be happy. That girl so stuck up if it rained she’d drown. I wouldn’t put it past her to try to hurt somebody. Heard she had a knife. ”
“It was just a little butter knife. Probably couldn’t do much harm with it, but she was threatening to.” Miss Vivee leaned in close. “There was a third one you know. I don’t know who she is.”
“I hear tell she’s from Augusta,” Viola Rose said. “Drove all the way down here to meet Oliver at the Maypop and found Lindsey and Mary Beth instead.”
“So you don’t know her name? The one from Augusta,” Miss Vivee asked.
“I’ve heard several different names for her,” Viola Rose said looking past Miss Vivee like she was thinking. “I ain’t sure, and you know I ain’t one to gossip. Don’t want to go spreading no lies.”
“I understand, Viola Rose,” Miss Vivee said and patted her on her arm. “I can always count on you not to spread rumors.”
“But ain’t it funny,” Viola Rose said, a grin creeping up her face. “How nobody see’d hide nor hair of Oliver while those girls were fighting over him. Looked like he would a come and tried to put a stop to it.”
“If you’d seen those girls, Viola Rose, you’d have steered clear of the place, too.” Miss Vivee said.
Viola Rose laughed. “Alrighty then,” she said. “Y’all got everything y’all need?”
“Yep. I’m good,” I said. I had been eating while Miss Vivee got her information.
“I’m working on getting what I need,” Miss Vivee muttered. But it seemed no one heard her but me. And I knew exactly what she meant.
Chapter Sixteen
“We’re not going to Augusta, Miss Vivee.” I said when Viola Rose walked away. Viola Rose hadn’t done anything but stirred up Miss Vivee’s curiosity and sealed my fate.
“We don’t need to take a road trip to interview that girl,” Miss Vivee said, she had gotten testy with me because I continually insisted we weren’t going anywhere to look for her suspects.
“How do you plan on doing it then, Miss Vivee?”
She pointed to the flyer on the table. I slid it between the two of us. It was the one that Ron Anderson had given Bay.
“There.” She jabbed her fingers at the address of the church for the memorial service printed on the flyer.
“You can’t go butting into a federal investigation.”
“They don’t know what to investigate,” Miss Vivee said and sucked her teeth. “They don’t know how he died.”
“I told Bay what you said about him being poisoned. That’s why he roped off the house. He believes you.”
“I bet you didn’t have a lot of friends when you were younger, did you?” Miss Vivee turned in her seat and looked at me. “You tell everything you know. When I was growing up kids like you ended up in face down in the dirt out behind the schoolhouse.”
I think she just threatened me.
“I told you,” she shifted, turning back to face Mac and picked up her sandwich. “Just because the feds are in on it, doesn’t mean I’m going to stop looking into it. Especially now that Renmar may be involved.”
The “feds?” She was such a mobster.
I scooted a little farther down the bench, away from her.
“But I will just not outwardly go against them,” she continu
ed her face softening some. “We can do it and no one will know.” She took a bite out of her sandwich, seemingly content with herself.
We?
“And so I ask again,” I said. “How do you plan on pulling that off? Interviewing people? Right in front of Bay.”
“Everyone talks to each other at a memorial service,” she said clearly agitated with me. “Have you been living under a rock all your life?” She frowned up and took a breath. “It’ll be easy. And I know the killer will be there. The murderer always comes to the funeral,” she said with a nod.
“All of them can’t be the murderer,” I said. “So maybe all of them won’t show up.”
“Did you watch them that day at the Maypop?” she said. “Every one of those women wanted to show the other that she was the one that was foremost in Oliver’s heart. None of them will miss his memorial service. And I know greedy pants Ron Anderson will be there with bells on.” She looked at Mac. “You follow my lead, Mac. Just like when we went to Atlanta to investigate Gemma Burke’s death. We’ll get them all to talk.”
He grinned. “We make a good team, Vivee.”
“Don’t get no ideas,” Miss Vivee said. “We make a good investigative team, and that’s it.”
“For now,” he said and took a sip of his drink. “So you’ve told me the who, now tell me the how,” Mac said.
“He was poisoned,” she said and took a bite of her sandwich.
“Yeah, Logan said she told Bay that,” he said. “But how was it done?”
“Not sure,” she said. “But I am sure he was poisoned.”
“Poisoned.” He repeated the word, tilting his head to think about it. He took a slow sip of his iced tea and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “It would have had to be something that wouldn’t kill him instantly because he had time to walk over to the shoal before he succumbed.” Mac looked at Miss Vivee. “I did notice the drool on his mouth and the burn marks on his lips.”
“See!” Miss Vivee smacked my thigh. “I knew it and Mac agrees. Don’t you, Mac?”
“I could see it. Poison.” He nodded his head while he spoke. “From the evidence, I could see that he might have been poisoned.”
Coastal Cottage Calamity (A Logan Dickerson Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 7
