“Come on, Dee Dee,” I said as I grabbed my digital camera.
“I’m coming. Let me get my purse.”
“Hey, can I put my wallet in your purse so I won’t have to take mine?”
“Sure! There’s plenty of room.”
“You’ve got that right,” I murmured.
“Admit it, Trix. It’s come in handy more than once.” She smirked, knowing she was right.
The historic square bustled with early morning tourists of every age, not to mention size and shape. A young couple strolled down the sidewalk as they held hands. Kids darted around the other tourists like they were on an obstacle course. Numerous shops surrounded the square. The historic district provided something for every taste and interest.
After you’ve shopped till you’ve dropped it’s easy to find a variety of eateries to satisfy a healthy appetite. If you want candies, hand squeezed lemonade, or a variety of desserts – whatever you heart desires – you’ll find it on the square.
My tummy voted for a break as we passed the ice cream shop. “Look! Hand spun ice cream. You get to choose the flavors, and then they’ll mix them for you. Yumm, that sounds good. Want to go in and give it a try?”
We both decided on chocolate ice cream mixed with fresh strawberries and Kahlua flavoring. The next fifteen minutes was an experience of pure bliss.
After we satisfied our sweet tooth, we meandered around the square. We discovered a quaint little shop; chock full of antiques and dust.
“Look, everything’s half-price.” Dee Dee opened the door releasing a wave of musty air.
I’d browsed for a few minutes when I heard Dee Dee – achooooooooooo! Nobody can prolong a sneeze like Dee Dee. I headed toward the peculiar sound and literally bumped into her.
“Hey, Trix, look what I found!” Dee Dee held up a book so grimy I could hardly make out the title.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I took the book and read the title, “Capturing a Locomotive” by William Pittenger
“I think I’ll buy it and see what I can discover about the event. That is, unless you want to buy it for your research.”
“No. You go ahead. I can borrow it from you.”
She searched the other spines, her nose so close I thought she was going to kiss them. “Oh, look.” She grabbed another and pulled it out. “This one’s titled “The Marietta History Museum.” I’m going to get this one, too.”
“I’d like to read it. The museum has a rich history.”
Our purchases made, and our arms loaded down, we headed back outside into the sultry air.
Spotting a quaint little deli, we decided to stop for lunch. We chose a table where we could see the sidewalk outside while we ate a light salad. People-watching is a sport I’ve always enjoyed. As I surveyed a group of teenagers decked out with earrings, brow rings, and several other kinds of rings you could think of, my cell phone rang. Startled, I jumped off my chair like I’d received an electric shock. I answered quickly, thinking it might be Nana. “Hello!”
“Well, hello stranger! I thought you’d never call me. Oh, that’s right, I called you.” Harv guffawed, his passive aggressive comment rankling me.
“And how are you doing?” I met Dee Dee’s questioning look, mouthing “Harv.”
“Well, now that you asked, I’m not doing too good. We’re on a deadline here and I’m waiting on a first draft from you.”
I pictured him at his desk with his feet crossed on his desktop, sleeves rolled up, barking orders at poor Belinda, our receptionist.
“I’m trying. But I spent the night in a museum with a dead body. Then Nana’s friend Dora fell and broke her hip. Dora’s son is out of the country, so I feel responsible for both of them. Harv, truth be told, I’m frazzled.”
“I’m sure you are, Kiddo”--Harv’s pet name for me-- “I should be more sensitive, but I’ve got a magazine that’s losing subscribers.”
We spoke several minutes, or rather he talked and I listened. Before Harv said good-bye, he reminded me there was a story I needed to tackle. I wasn’t in any hurry to follow up on this lead – especially after Detective Bowerman warned me to keep my nose out of his business. However, the best intentions can be forgotten.
My phone rang immediately after I hung up.
“Trixie? This is Doc. I need your help. I’m in trouble!”
“What’s the matter?” My lunch churned in my stomach. Dee Dee’s recently waxed eyebrows struck a questioning arch.
“Detective Bowerman brought me in for questioning. He referred to me as a “person of interest.” Penny’s in a panic, and I’m not doing so well myself. I’m really worried.”
“Why? Have they found evidence linking you to the murder? They can’t rely on your fingerprints; they must be all over the museum.”
Dee Dee elbowed me and whispered, “What! What’s going on?”
“Shhh.” I mouthed, “I’ll tell you in a minute.”
“I’m afraid there’s more to it, Trixie. Listen, would you and Dee Dee meet me somewhere? I don’t want to talk about this over the phone.”
Dee Dee, patience not being one of her virtues, was about to pull my arm off. If curiosity could kill, she’d be dead.
“Plan on it and I’ll call you back if it’s not copasetic.” Dee Dee rolled her eyes at my use of the word copasetic. I rolled mine right back. “Where do you want to meet? We’re on the square close to an antique shop named Magnolia Books and Antiques.”
“There’s a café on the far corner called Tara’s. Can you meet me there in about twenty minutes?” Desperation laced his voice.
“Sure. We’ll see you in a little while.”
Trix, what did you get yourself into? Lord, help me. My hands shook and my palms were slick with perspiration. What did Doc expect me to do? And why was he in this predicament anyway? My taut shoulders violently quivered. The call must have shaken me more than I realized. An anxious voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Hey, girl. What are you so worked up about? Whatever’s going on with Doc, you just might have to—”
“You’re not going to believe this Dee Dee. Doc was taken in for questioning. He didn’t want to explain over the phone, so he asked us to meet him in about twenty minutes.”
“We promised bushy-eyed Bowerman we’d stay out of his way,” Dee Dee said.
“My job could depend on solving this case. Meeting someone for coffee isn’t the same as crossing police tape.” Despite my brave exterior, genuine concern ushered us out the door.
A blast of steamy air hit us as we stepped outside and down the street. The sun beat mercilessly, heating the sidewalk. The temperature was on its way to hitting the nineties. Tourists looked as bedraggled as I felt. My throbbing knee forced me to move like a little old lady. It was slow going to the café. Dee Dee sensed my discomfort and slowed her pace to match mine.
Tara’s appeared as an oasis in the desert. A blast of cool air welcomed us, and the inside of Tara’s proved clean and inviting. Single roses in bud vases splashed color against white tablecloths scattered throughout the dining area. Bright blue, yellow and green accented the décor. A glass cabinet full of luscious desserts ran the length of the bar by the register.
Dee Dee and I agreed we were stressed, and everyone knows stressed spelled backwards equals desserts. We treated ourselves to a diet Coke and a slice of seven layer chocolate cake while we waited on Doc. Between decadent bites of cake we discussed the murder at the Marietta History Museum.
While we waited, I observed our fellow patrons for entertainment. I’ve been told I’m nosey, but I don’t see it that way. A writer must be observant. You never know when you might discover a story or acquire a new character.
For instance, consider the woman who just entered the door. I pegged her forty-something hoping to pass for twenty-something. Dressed in a short blue jean skirt, tube top, and white cowgirl boots, she made quite an impression. She sported blonde hair, complements of L’Oreal, and blue eye shadow applied to her
entire eyelid. Think Robin Egg Blue.
I felt a jab to my shin. Dee Dee kicked me to get my attention. Doc came through the door. I waved to him and he headed over, looking awful. His hair was uncombed, and his clothes rumpled. He glanced our way and the corners of his mouth turned slightly upwards, making a feeble attempt at a smile. We scooted our chairs around to make room. He plopped down in the delicate seat and dropped his head in his hands.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Doc, do you want a drink?” I didn’t wait for an answer. It was obvious he needed something stiffer than diet cola, so I sent Dee Dee to get him a high-test Coke.
He took a couple of sips, sat up and shared his story. “Like I said on the phone, I’m in trouble. Detective Bowerman took me to the station and questioned me for over two hours. I know I’m on top of his suspect list.”
“What makes you think that, Doc?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “Maybe he just thinks you know more than anyone else, because of your position at the museum.”
“He told me I was their person of interest.” He emitted a nervous laugh and ran his fingers through his thinning hair.
Dee Dee interjected, her fork flinging bits of cake around the table. “Trixie and I discussed the fingerprint issue. They must be on everything in the museum. I can’t imagine he’d base his suspicions on the appearance of your prints?”
I remembered he did have motive. “Did he discover you fired Jacob?”
Doc nodded, and with this confession, turned white as the flour Nana used for her biscuits. Like a bolt of lightning, it occurred to me Detective Bowerman must have something else on Doc.
I leaned forward. “Doc, what aren’t you telling me?” My whispered question rustled the petals on the rose between us.
Doc’s lips trembled. Silence prevailed before he shared an unbelievable tale. “It began a long time ago. After I finished my tour of duty in Vietnam. I didn’t want to come back to the states and face what so many fellow soldiers endured when they returned.
“So I naively decided to go as far away as possible. The Bahamas seemed like the perfect place to escape from reality.” He sucked in a deep breath and continued.
“I wound up in Nassau. I worked a year on one of the local fisherman’s boats. It wasn’t the most glamorous job. I cleaned fish, scrubbed the boat, helped with the line fishing and any other job that needed done. It didn’t pay much, but it was enough.”
Doc took a long drink. I had no idea where this was going, but I could tell the memories were troubling this kind man. Dee Dee and I exchanged glances, anxious to hear the rest of the story. Doc gingerly sat the glass down on the table. He studied the container as if the answer to his problems lay at the bottom.
“There was a local man who worked on the same boat as I did. He stayed in trouble and made more enemies than friends. Mickel was extremely knowledgeable about the fishing trade and became an asset to the boat owner. I’m sure it’s the only reason they kept him on. I tried to stay out of his way, and I did for a long time. Then one night we were in the same bar – The Golden Conch. He drank enough to kill a normal man, but it didn’t kill him; it just made him meaner than the devil himself.
“Mickel badgered me because I wasn’t an islander. He’d goaded me since I started working, and I guess he wasn’t too happy I hadn’t responded to his taunts. He went wild. He pushed me around, and when I didn’t fight back, he sucker-punched me. I wasn’t going to stand by and let him beat me to a pulp so I fought back.” Beads of sweat dotted Doc’s forehead.
“When he saw I wasn’t going to give up, he pulled out a machete, and charged like a raging bull. Without thinking, I grabbed the closest thing I could reach, and hit him over the head. I wanted to stop him. I didn’t mean to kill him – it was just a beer bottle.”
Doc dropped his head. I saw tears in his eyes before his hands covered his face. Maybe it was emotional exhaustion, or maybe he didn’t want us to see him cry.
Dee Dee shrugged her shoulders, and I knew what she thought. How could this gentle man have killed someone – even in self-defense? A thousand questions flowed through my mind.
While we gave him a few minutes to collect his composure, we ordered another drink. I ordered Doc a piece of raspberry cheesecake. I hoped the treat would comfort him in some small way.
Dee Dee and I made small talk and sat quietly out of respect for Doc, but I couldn’t help wondering. I’d gauged Doc for a gentleman. Was I wrong? He’d just admitted he was guilty of murdering before. Was it possible he’d felt threatened enough again?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Are you telling us Detective Bowerman found out about your barroom...um, brawl?”
“Yes, he did. Interpol, I guess. It happened so long ago; I haven’t thought of Mickel in years. At the time, I feared I might spend the rest of my days locked away in a Nassau prison.
“But, it seems this man was hated by a lot of people – some in high places. After spending less than six months behind bars, without a trial, they released me. They demanded only one condition for my release – leave the island. I happily complied. I never wanted to see that place again.
“This was a wake-up call for me. I decided then and there living in the United States was a wonderful privilege. I turned my life over to God, and determined to put the terrible experience behind me. I’d pretty much convinced myself it never happened – until the detective confronted me.”
“Doc, I’m sorry you’re going through this. What can we do to help?”
“I heard you solved a murder in Dahlonega, and I hoped you’d help me. I don’t know where else to turn.”
I thought of the harsh words I spoke to Nana this morning. I promised I wouldn’t get involved in this murder, and Detective Bowerman’s warning resonated. I knew very little about Doc, and now he had confessed to killing in self defense. But, I wasn’t convinced the man who sat across from me could be a cold-blooded killer.
I looked over at Dee Dee. She shrugged her shoulders, which didn’t give me much to go on. If I helped Doc, I’d have to eat the words I’d spoken to Nana this morning. Lord, what should I do?
I didn’t hear a distinct voice, but a feeling of peace settled over me. I knew the answer. I had to help Doc. I’d want someone to do the same for me.
“I’ll do what I can. I don’t even know where to start,” I said.
Dee Dee took this as a cue to share her thoughts. “What about other people who might have a motive to kill Jacob? Trixie, we could make a list of acquaintances who Doc thinks might have it in for him.” She rummaged around in her purse.
“A list is a great idea. Doc, do you know of any enemies Jacob made while he worked at the museum?” I sipped my now watered-down soda.
“Yes. Yes, I do.” Doc’s face brightened. He pushed the cheesecake away that he’d only picked at.
Dee Dee found a pad, and with pen poised said, “Go ahead Doc. I’m ready.”
“Well, let me think. There’s Susan Gray. She’s a board member and the main reason I fired Jacob. He made unwanted passes at Susan and harassed her, to boot.” Doc’s face turned beet red. “She’s engaged to marry Jeffrey Jones. Not only is he a board member, too, he’s a big supporter of the museum as well as a historian and collector of Civil War memorabilia. I guess Jacob didn’t think she’d tell anyone, but she pretty much shouted it from the rooftops. Jeffrey was hopping mad and demanded I get rid of Jacob. I would have done it anyway, but he insisted I fire him.” Taking a long swig of his high-test Coke, he wiped his brow with a dainty paper napkin.
“Write down all those names.” I watched Dee Dee scrawl. “Not only did Susan have a reason to dislike Jacob, but her boyfriend, Jeffrey, did too. Maybe he wanted to dispose of him for good.” I began to perspire; Southern ladies don’t sweat. The air conditioner had either quit, or couldn’t keep up with the heat and humidity building outside as the afternoon approached.
Dee Dee wrote furiously. “Got ‘em down. Anybody else you can think of Doc?” She held
up her glass and showed the waitress we all needed a round of drinks.
He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know. I feel like my head is full of cotton and I can’t think.”
“Who are all the board members? Maybe one of them had an axe to grind,” I prompted.
“We only have five at this time. Samuel Brooks, you met him yesterday. He’s the acting director. Gloria Hamilton, she’s the one Penny told you about. You remember – her purse went missing. She’s determined to wreck havoc in my life. She wants her son, Steven, to take over my position when I retire and she’s hoping it will be soon.” Doc let out a big sigh.
“Go on, we’re listening.” Dee Dee encouraged.
“I’ve already mentioned Susan Gray. She’s the one Jacob harassed. And of course, me. I’m on the board.”
“There is another person I haven’t mentioned, but I don’t think she would hurt a flea, much less commit murder. When I found out Jacob made unwanted advances toward Susan I wondered about someone else. I asked Marianne, our receptionist and bookkeeper, if he’d bothered her. She denied it at first, then later admitted he’d harassed her, too.” Sweat continued to bead on Doc’s brow.
“All right, that’s a start. Can you get me their addresses?”
Dee Dee gave me a funny look. I know she was thinking “what do we need their addresses for” and I wondered the same thing. Was I willing to put myself in danger by investigating this murder?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I decided the challenge was worth the risk. I encouraged Doc to continue.
“That’s easy, they all work downtown. You can easily catch them at their businesses if you want to talk to them. Except for Gloria, who lives on the edge of town within walking distance.” Doc drained his refill of Coke. I’d lost count of how many he’d guzzled.
“Dee Dee, did you get all this? We’ll need it later for reference. Neither one of us have the memory we used to.”
Murder in Marietta (A Trixie Montgomery Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 5
