Hyacinth and Homicide: Book 3 in the Black Orchid Mystery Series

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Hyacinth and Homicide: Book 3 in the Black Orchid Mystery Series Page 9

by Pyper James


  Vivica’s pulled the notebook up even closer. She read quickly completely enthralled with the story. Vivica didn’t bother to look at the clock again. She had to know what happened next.

  “Much to my mother’s surprise, my father returned home. She said that he didn’t give her a lot of advanced warning and kind of just showed up. She toyed with the idea of telling him not to, that she wanted a divorce, so she and the widower could continue. But she decided that her Catholic upbringing, that she’d already grossly violated, would trap her in the marriage because divorce was frowned upon by the church and my father wasn’t dead. Her logic didn’t necessarily make sense given she had an adulterous relationship but that was her logic. When my father returned, she was well endowed with another man’s baby. I’m personally surprised that he stayed after coming back. Maybe he realized the grass wasn’t greener wherever he’d been laying his head. Abortion was out of the question. That part I understood considering the time. I guess my mother said enough Hail Mary’s to right herself in the eyes of God, but she did end the relationship with the widower when father came home.

  I hated that he was back. The tension in the house instantly revved up. I didn’t know why at the time, but it was so thick with tension that I tried to stay out of the fray as much as possible. My father learning of my mother’s pregnancy drove an even deeper wedge between the two, but he was stubborn enough to stay; to make her feel guilty every day, and to never give her the satisfaction of possibly being happy with someone else or even alone. I’m sure he lauded the fact that she was unskilled and would be single with two children over her head, which more than likely softened her resolve to try to do anything but resume being his wife. But when my brother was born, that turned out to be too much for the both of them. My brother was a constant reminder of my mother’s infidelity. He didn’t look like my father. Knowing that she laid with another man to conceive my brother was too much for father and it proved to be too much for mother. They made the decision, I’m not sure which one more than the other, that my brother couldn’t stay. She had the baby. He was around for a while. I saw him. I remember seeing him. And then, he was gone. What I learned, which was probably the hardest part of it all is that he ended up with another family. Part of the agreement whether through some kind of service or independently, that my parents could not know his whereabouts. I guess it was a closed adoption like situation. But that didn’t stop my personal longing to know him, to know who he was. Now I knew… he was gone…”

  When Vivica read the last line, her mouth was open. It was like reading a riveting novel and being shocked by the ending. Closing the notebook, Vivica stole another look at her wristwatch. Seeing the time, she shoved all the notebooks back in the suitcase, closed the lid, and made a mad dash downstairs. She needed to talk to Johnathan.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Not seeing Harper or Gathright in the lobby, Vivica walked outside to see if the patrol car was there. When she didn’t see it, she decided to wait for law enforcement on the porch. As she waited, Vivica replayed Braxton’s story in her head. It was captivating. Although she never had a sibling, Vivica could only imagine what Braxton went through; the questions, the longing. It had to be difficult. Vivica wondered, as she paced the floor, whether Braxton ever found his long-lost brother. Hearing the noise of crunching gravel of the driveway, Vivica turned her attention in that direction and watched as the sheriff’s vehicle pulled up into the circular drive. She descended the stairs and met Sheriff Harper and Deputy Gathright as they exited the car. Johnathan could see how anxious Vivica was, as she danced from foot to foot as they made their way around to where she was standing.

  “What’s that two-step all about,” Gathright asked, noticing Vivica fidgeting.

  “I think we have a development,” Vivica replied.

  “What’s going on,” Harper asked. He tried to keep his face serious but adjusted his hat as he spoke, hooding his eyes. Seeing Vivica never got old, and even in her agitated state when she was prepared to talk business, he appreciated how striking she truly was. He allowed his eyes to linger just a while longer before forcing himself to refocus and actually listen to what she was saying instead of watching her prettily thin lips move.

  “It looks like Mr. Gingham has a brother,” Vivica announced.

  “That’s good. Where you come up with that,” Harper asked.

  “A combination of Auntie Mildred and some of Braxton’s writings I’ve been reading,” Vivica answered. “But get this, there’s a chance that brother is here.”

  “Now you’re talking Meadows,” Gathright chimed in. “Who is it?”

  “Well it’s just circumstantial right now, that’s why I wanted to talk to you before you started interviewing,” Vivica continued.

  “Okay, who does it look like?”

  “Bradford Graham.”

  “The man who initially asked about getting a lawyer?” Gathright asked.

  “Yep, that’s who I think it is,” Vivica replied.

  “What are you basing it on,” Harper interjected. “You said it was circumstantial?”

  “Yeah,” Vivica answered. “Mr. Braxton was from Rome Georgia. Mr. Graham’s registration is from Rome and he mentioned it to me yesterday, before I read the letters.”

  “Go on,” Harper encouraged, generally interested in what she had to say.

  “It looks like Braxton was estranged from his brother. They were separated when they were very young. Maybe they reunited, and things didn’t go well?”

  “It’s worth checking into,” Harper concurred. “It’s the best lead we’ve got.”

  “So, how do you want to go about it?”

  “Let’s interrogate him,” Bo suggested. “Get straight to the point.”

  Harper rubbed the stubble on his chin from the five o’clock shadow he was sporting. Vivica noticed it before, but looking up into Johnathan’s always handsome face, with his thick brows furrowed over brooding eyes reminded Vivica of what she found so intriguing about him in the first place.

  “You didn’t ask, but I think we should stick with the original plan; interview more than one person like you planned and then talk to Graham as part of the interviewing process. That way, he won’t suspect that we’re on to him,” Vivica offered.

  Johnathan listened and again stroked his chin considering the options. Bo and Vivica waited to see what his response would be. After a few moments, Sheriff Harper stopped the chin-stroke and adjusted his sheriff’s hat.

  “Let’s do as we planned; see if we can get more cooberation from those we originally planned to re-interview, and then as the last interview of the evening, we talk to Bradford Graham.”

  The trio was in agreement and they moved collectively to the front door. Harper held the door opened as Vivica crossed the threshold, and Bo followed in last behind Harper. By the time they made it into the front lobby, Aunt Mildred was coming around the corner from her office. Although Vivica was tempted to clue Aunt Mildred in on what was going on, she figured it was probably best if Mildred has an authentic response as possible, with what followed.

  “Ms. Mildred, if you would be so kind as to round up Mr. Caldwell Jones and Ms. Sophie. We’d like to speak with them again, Harper began.

  “Sure, absolutely, Mildred replied, looking from Vivica to the sheriff and back to Vivica again. Vivica smiled and nodded.

  “And is there anywhere in the inn that we can interview in private?”

  “You can use my office if you’d like,” Mildred offered.

  “That would be fine,” Harper replied. “We’ll speak with Mr. Jones first and then Ms. Sophie once we finish with Caldwell. Can we arrange it that way?”

  “Sure,” Mildred replied. “I’ll see if I can find Mr. Jones.”

  “And I’ll show them where your office is,” Vivica added.

  Mildred headed to the lobby counter to contact Mr. Jones via phone as Vivica led Bo and Sheriff Harper to the office. They didn’t have to wait long before there was a kn
ock at the office door. Bo opened it and Mr. Caldwell entered.

  “I understand you want to speak with me again,” Caldwell said as he crossed the threshold.

  “Appreciate you taking the time to talk with us again,” Sheriff Harper replied, standing to his feet and shaking Caldwell’s hand. He ushered Caldwell to a seat and the men both sat down. Bo closed the office door and Vivica sat close on the couch behind them.

  “Mr. Jones, some of these questions might be repetitive but if you can just bear with us, we are trying to figure out what happened to Mr. Gingham,” Harper said.

  “I don’t have any problem with you asking whatever you need to,” Mr. Jones replied. “I want to know what happened to him as you do. I’ve been coming here a long time. I don’t want to have to change my plans because Mulberry Grove isn’t safe anymore.”

  “I can reassure you if on nothing else, that Mulberry Grove will be safe once again,” Harper replied.

  “Well, I appreciate that,” Caldwell answered. “But I’ll feel a whole lot better knowing what happened instead of guessing.”

  “Mr. Jones, in all the time you knew Mr. Gingham, did he ever mention family?” Harper posed the question and then rested his back on the chair, waiting for Caldwell to answer. The older man was still sharp as a tack, when it came to his mental faculties. You could tell by the way he paused before speaking that he blurted out nothing without first contemplating. This time was no different. Mr. Jones considered the question. One could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Once he finalized on his answer, Mr. Caldwell returned his gaze to the person who raised the question. Bo and Vivica listened intently as he responded.

  “When Braxton decided he want to share something personal, those times were far and few between,” Caldwell started. “In all the time I’ve known him, I only remember he mentioned his parents were deceased. But hey, when you get up in age like we are, that is almost to be expected,” Caldwell continued. “It would be a rarity and a true blessing from God if one of your parents was still alive when you yourself were in your twilight years.”

  “He never mentioned a sibling,” Vivica asked from behind.

  Caldwell turned slightly in his chair, acknowledging the question. “The only other person that impacted Braxton on a personal level that he ever said anything to me about was Ms. Sophie,” Caldwell replied, “never a brother or sister.”

  Caldwell turned back square to Harper. “Did he have family that you all found?”

  “We’re not sure, Mr. Jones, that’s why we asked,” Harper replied. “When Mr. Gingham mentioned Ms. Sophie, was it favorable?”

  A smile started on Caldwell’s lip and then a low chuckle emerged. “Oh, it was favorable alright,” he mused. “They had a thing for each other but didn’t think anyone noticed. But we did!”

  Caldwell laughed heartily, and the trio found themselves smiling in response.

  “Mr. Jones,” Vivica started. “I saw a small bouquet of hyacinth flowers in Mr. Jones’ room. They looked fresh. Do you think they came from Ms. Sophie?”

  “Interesting you ask that question, Ms. Vivian,” Caldwell said, again turning slightly to bring her into his purview. “I wouldn’t doubt that they came from Ms. Sophie,” Caldwell began. “Of course, can’t say for sure; however, that was one of the things they shared that the two thought was a secret. He loved hyacinth flowers from what I understand. I’m not sure why, and he certainly didn’t discuss that with me. But I suspect Ms. Sophie could give you real keen insight on that.”

  That was the plan. Mr. Caldwell was thanked again for his willingness and escorted out of the office. Bo did the escorting and when Mr. Caldwell cleared out of the lobby, Bo asked Ms. Mildred to call Ms. Sophie down. It didn’t take long for Sophie to descend the stairs. Bo found himself staring, as the older woman practically floated down the staircase, dressed from head to toe in all black. She even donned a small hat with a veil that partially covered her face.

  When Ms. Sophie reached the bottom of the stairs she turned slowly in the direction of the lobby and paced her steps as though she was walking in a processional; dignified, with her chin tilted slightly up. She never stopped to make eye contact with anyone just paused her steps long enough for Deputy Gathright to walk in front of her. Mildred would like to have been surprised by Sophie’s wardrobe selection, but she wasn’t. Sophie wore her emotions on her sleeves. This time, she wore them from head to toe. Mildred could only smile as her long-time friend passed her by. She understood Sophie’s sadness. She felt it too.

  When Ms. Sophie entered the office, Vivica looked at her ensemble and felt much the same way her aunt did minutes earlier. Sophie was such a colorful character, but this time the color was mournful. Harper respectfully stood to his feet to receive her. Harper tried not to overtly respond to her attire, but it was hard. He ushered Ms. Sophie to the chair in front of the desk and dipped his head slightly to ensure his facial expression was reflective of the tone he was trying to set. Ms. Sophie sat, prim and proper, folding her black-gloved hands in her lap.

  “Ms. Sophie, we appreciate you taking the time to speak with us,” Vivica offered as she saw the sheriff struggling.

  “Anything to help Braxton’s cause,” Sophie replied. She pulled out a long black lace kerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her eyes under her veil and then held the kerchief in her hand as Harper continued.

  “We just had a few follow-up questions Ms. Sophie, if you don’t mind.

  Out front in the lobby, Mildred was busying herself with checking reservations and responding to patrons who were concerned with the delay. She had her head down dialing a telephone number when someone approached the desk and cleared his throat.

  “Oh, Mr. Graham,” Mildred said, genuinely startled and then immediately checking her expression considering what she thought about him. “How can I help you?” Mildred asked, hanging up the phone before the call connected.

  “I don’t mean to disturb you, Ms. Mildred, but I noticed the sheriff’s vehicle out front again. Is there news?”

  Mildred considered how much she should say. Vivica nor the officers hadn’t told her their intentions regarding Mr. Graham; however, given what she and Vivica talked about regarding Mr. Graham and Mr. Gingham being from the same hometown, whether they said anything or not, Mildred had her own suspicions. But she didn’t want to let on, so Mildred plastered on a smile and did her best to answer his question as vaguely and pleasantly as possible.

  “I’m not sure,” Mildred said. “But I certainly hope so.”

  She paid attention to see how Bradford received her response. He too wore a plasticized smile.

  “I just hope they get to the bottom of it and soon. I must return home and attend to things,” Bradford continued. “You will let me know as soon as there’s word?”

  “I certainly will Mr. Graham and I truly appreciate your patience during this trying time.”

  Bradford seemed satisfied with Mildred’s response and meandered down the hallway away from the lobby. Mildred exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. If her suspicions about Bradford were wrong, she would be the first to apologize. But, if she was right, and Mildred’s gut told her she was, then she wanted him out of her inn quickly.

  Back in the office, Harper continued with his inquiry.

  “Ms. Sophie, have you ever known Mr. Gingham to speak of family?”

  “I have,” she replied.

  Everyone in the room looked hopeful. Vivica sat up on the edge of the sofa as Sheriff Harper continued.

  “What did he say?”

  “That his parents were deceased.” That information was no real revelation as Mr. Jones made mention of the same.

  “Anything more,” Harper inquired; pressing but not trying to lead her.

  “I have thought about this since Braxton’s unfortunate incident,” Ms. Sophie said. “If my memory serves me, and I’m not distorting it with wishful intention, I do recall something about a brother.” Sophie paused before cont
inuing. “I don’t think I thought of it when Vivica spoke with me the other day, but the more I gave the situation some consideration, I do recall the briefest conversation about such a thing.”

  “What did Braxton say?”

  “It was a brief yet poignant conversation,” Sophie replied. “I think I was blabbing on about my sisters and how they don’t understand me, think me crazy and drive me nuts,” Sophie said. For the first time since she entered the room, there was a resemblance of the Ms. Sophie Vivica knew and loved. “After I ranted on and on about them, Braxton made a simple comment to the effect of he wished he knew what that was like.”

  “Well, quite naturally I asked if he had siblings as I’d never heard him mention any before. His answer was, ‘once’. I pressed a little further and he said he had a brother, but then, when he figured I was going to keep going on the matter, Braxton skillfully changed the subject. We never had a chance to return to it again,” Sophie concluded. The sad disposition returned as well.

  There was some confirmation in what Sophie said. When Harper decided to shift the conversation, he felt a little uncomfortable. He hoped it didn’t show, but Vivica noticed him shifting in his chair as he prepared.

  “Ms. Sophie, I wanted to ask about your, um, your-“

  “Whether you and Mr. Gingham were involved in a romantic relationship,” Vivica interjected. Instead of being upset by Vivica taking over the question, Johnathan looked relieved. A slow smile eased across Ms. Sophie’s lips as she considered the question. That in and of itself was confirmation that there was something between the two; more than just casual conversation.

  “Braxton Gingham was a man amongst men,” Sophie said; a broad smile showing underneath her veil. “What we had was bigger than romance, Ms. Vivica,” Sophie said, making a point to look in the young lady’s direction. “It was an intellectual, cerebral, psychological, mental and soulful connection.”

 

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