Sunset in Old Savannah

by Mary Ellis

  “Beth and I apologize for any unpleasantness we caused—”

  “Oh, you didn’t cause me any unpleasantness. Trust me. If you cross the line, I’ll just throw you both in jail. And it’ll be a long drive for your Mississippi pals to come visit. Beth owes Curtis an apology, but I would advise strongly against it. If she shows up at his house again, he’ll take out a restraining order against her. So tell her to back off.”

  “I’ll tell her, and thanks for the update on the Doyle homicide—”

  “I’m not finished yet. Wait until you hear what I found out about your client, Mrs. Doyle…”

  When she was finished, Michael was rendered speechless.

  “For the record, I don’t have a problem with you, Mr. Preston. In fact, we could probably work a few cases together if you were planning to stick around.” Rossi chuckled merrily. “But since you aren’t, when are you heading west?”

  Michal smiled at Harold in the rearview mirror. “Probably in another week. We still have a little more sightseeing to do.”

  “Fine, but you know what they say about screen doors on your way out.” With that, she ended the call.

  He pulled over to the side of the road, filled Harold’s bowl from his water bottle, and punched in Beth’s number.

  “Good morning, stranger,” she said cheerily. “Do you miss me already?”

  “More than you know. I’m on my way with a poodle who won’t stop whining.”

  “Poor thing. He probably misses his mommy.”

  “Or his hairdresser. Why would someone put bows in Harold’s fur?”

  “I don’t think gender matters with poodles. They all get bows. When will you get back?”

  “After I take Harold home. Then you and I need to talk, Beth. I just got off the phone with Diane Rossi.”

  “Oh dear. This can’t be good.”

  “The police questioned Curtis and then released him. Apparently, he has a solid alibi for the night his brother died. He was at his son’s soccer game. Half the town of Jessup saw him there. And what’s more, his finances have been in order for several years. He’s furious that you embarrassed him in front of the neighbors and tore the scab off an old family wound. He doesn’t want you to come near him.”

  “No problem. I already ruled him out as a suspect.”

  “Curtis isn’t the only one angry,” he added. “Rossi wants you off her case.”

  Beth hesitated before she replied. “I’m really sorry I dug up the past for Curtis. I’m sorry I eroded our relationship with Rossi. And I truly regret betraying Evelyn’s confidence. While you’re returning Harold, I’m headed to the island to confess my sins to our client. I’ll call you when I’m done so we can meet for coffee or something to eat or a thorough browbeating—your choice.”

  “Sounds good. Just don’t get arrested for anything on Tybee. Considering Rossi’s mood, posting bail would seriously crimp our expense account.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Beth showered, dressed, and arranged for an Uber driver in record-breaking time. But she waited until she was halfway to Tybee Island before she called Evelyn to make sure she would be home. Perhaps I could hide in the bushes if she is out running errands. Considering the nature of her visit, Beth wanted to circumvent any offers of hospitality, such as, Will you stay for lunch? We could have lobster salad on the deck.

  Evelyn greeted her at the front door wearing a navy silk dress, heels, and a friendly smile. “Where is Michael today? And who was that who dropped you off?”

  “The man’s name is José. Michael is on a case in South Carolina.”

  “Are you dating this José? I was under the impression—”

  “No, ma’am. José is an Uber driver. I’m still dating Michael, much to his dismay.” Beth’s smile was a bit wobbly as she stepped into the cool foyer.

  “It sounds like we need some girl talk.” Evelyn hooked her arm through Beth’s elbow. “Let’s go to the living room. I know you enjoy the view.”

  Beth let the woman drag her to the white leather sofa facing the water. “I’m not here to talk about my dating debacles, although they could certainly fill a few hours. I’m here to explain my recent lapse in judgment and ask for your forgiveness.”

  “Oh, Beth, nothing can be as dire as all that,” Evelyn said soothingly as she accepted a mug of coffee from her maid.

  Beth did the same and then launched into the woeful tale about her trip to Jessup. “What’s more, according to Detective Rossi, Curtis has an alibi for that night. And he’s cleaned up his bad money-management habits.”

  “I told you he simply wasn’t capable of murder.” Evelyn’s statement contained not one ounce of resentment.

  “Yes, you did, but that much money can change a person’s nature. Still, I should have done my homework before I rushed into action. Now I’ve made trouble for Lamar’s brother, and what’s worse, I betrayed your confidence.”

  Evelyn cocked her head as though confused.

  “You asked me to keep the information under my hat, and I didn’t. I didn’t even warn you about what I planned to do. Maybe I’m not cut out for PI work.”

  “Nonsense. You were just doing your job, which is trying to catch my husband’s killer. And that’s more important to me than keeping an old secret from years ago. If Curtis had a change of heart about his father’s will and no longer resents Lamar, he should be glad someone wants to find the person who murdered his brother.”

  “He didn’t act very glad when I saw him.”

  “He might be after he calms down. No one wants their shameful past hung out to dry, especially if it implies motive for murder.”

  “As much as I regret my behavior toward Curtis, it’s your pardon I seek.” Beth lifted her gaze to meet Evelyn’s.

  “You already have it. Now, what has caused friction between you and your handsome partner?” She arched one eyebrow.

  “That’s something else I’m not cut out for—having a partner, at least not one I’m romantically involved with. Let’s just say my jumping to conclusions about Curtis added to friction already in progress.” Beth released a sigh far too weary for midmorning. “I’m not talented enough to make a work relationship work.”

  Evelyn’s laughter sounded like crystal wind chimes. “Nobody is savvy enough at first. It’ll take extra effort, but I wouldn’t give up just yet—not on the romance or the work partnership. Couples in the movies make it look easy. Experience tells us something much different. I can only say it’s worth it in the end.” A hitch in her voice revealed that tears were close to the surface.

  Beth crossed the space between them and took hold of her hand. “You make me miss my mom. When I get back to Natchez, I’m going to be extra nice to her for a full week.”

  “Mothers and daughters—often a challenge but always a blessing.” Her smile erased several years from her face. “Can you stay for lunch?”

  Beth rose to her feet. “Thank you, but no. Michael wants a powwow as soon as he returns from Hilton Head. Considering the thin ice already beneath my feet, I shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

  “All right, but I’ve just figured out what your penance shall be.”

  Beth blinked with surprise.

  “Instead of a week, you must be extra patient with your mother for a full month. And regarding Michael? You must be nice to him for a solid year with no thoughts of walking away from a relationship with him during that time. If I have to hire a Natchez PI to make sure you stick to my terms, I will.” Evelyn winked impishly.

  “Save your money. Toeing those two particular lines will be easy.”

  The Uber driver appeared five minutes after she called for the return trip to Savannah. Beth kissed Evelyn’s cheek on her way out and greeted José as if they were long-lost friends. But her lighthearted good mood proved short lived.

  “Beth Kirby,” she said to the unknown caller when her phone rang.

  “Are you the private investigator who slipped a twenty-dollar bill and this number under my door?�
� The cool voice sounded a thousand miles away instead of on Bull Street, in the heart of the historic section.

  “Yes, ma’am. Thanks for returning my call. I’m investigating the death of Lamar Doyle, your former tenant.”

  “What does his death have to do with me? My job is to collect the rent and make sure people park where they’re supposed to.” Distrust inched into the conversation.

  “Yes, and that’s why I’m calling. I’m curious as to why Miss Mulroney is still living in Mr. Doyle’s apartment.”

  “Why shouldn’t she be? The rent has been paid.”

  Beth phrased her next question carefully. “Are you saying Mr. Doyle paid the rent before he died?”

  “Well, I don’t believe in ghosts, Ms. Kirby. Just like you did, he—or someone—slipped an envelope under my door while I was out. The note said ‘For the rent of Miss Bonnie Mulroney in number 306.’ There was a check for the full amount of the rent for six months.”

  “Did you happen to scan or photocopy the check?” Beth asked.

  “What difference would that make? The rent is paid, so the girl gets to stay. Why are you making trouble for her?”

  “I don’t care if Bonnie lives there rent-free forever. I just want to know who signed that check.”

  The superintendent sighed. Then she said, “Please hold for a moment.”

  While Beth waited, she noticed José watching her in the rearview mirror, his expression a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “I’m a secret agent working deep undercover,” she said, covering the mouthpiece with her hand.

  “Like Emma Peel?”

  It took her a moment to make the connection. “Exactly like Mrs. Peel.”

  “Ha!” José’s hoot was a dead giveaway he wasn’t buying the story.

  “Okay, I found the photocopy in the file.” The building super’s exclamation pulled Beth’s attention back to the conversation. “Looks like Evelyn Doyle signed the check on the twenty-fifth of September. Is that it?” Apparently it was, because the superintendent clicked off without waiting for confirmation.

  Beth didn’t care. She was already digging her datebook from her purse. September 25 was the day that Lamar broke up with Bonnie and recommitted himself to his marriage. So why on earth would Evelyn pay the rent for six months?

  Beth slouched down in the seat and closed her eyes. She had some thinking to do before her meeting with Michael. He would want to know why. She wanted to know why. But considering she’d just shored up Evelyn’s faith in her, she couldn’t call her and ask. Just as they passed the Welcome to Savannah sign, a text from the very person she’d been fretting over dinged for attention.

  Michael: Where are you?

  Beth: I’m with a handsome Uber driver name José. We just reached city limits.

  Michael: Ask your Latin paramour to drop you off at Johnson Square. Your luncheon waits under an oak tree by the fountain. Wear a flower in your hair. We’ll have ten full minutes to be alone before Kaitlyn arrives.

  Feeling warm and tingly all over, Beth sent an emoji of a dancing fish with a top hat as her response and gave the new directions to José.

  When she climbed from José’s vehicle minutes later, Michael was checking his messages at a park bench. As usual, he looked cool, calm, and collected in the shade.

  He glanced up as she approached. “How did José handle the news of your breakup?”

  “He might never get over me.” Beth plunked down her purse on the bench. “What are you hiding, Preston?”

  Michael produced a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. “I thought you could use these after your visit to Mrs. Doyle.”

  “How did you find time to buy flowers after delivering Harold to his rightful owner?” She pressed them to her nose and inhaled.

  Michael pointed at a vendor selling identical bouquets fifty feet away. “I hope you don’t think less of my gesture.” When he plucked one of the blossoms to tuck behind her ear, his fingers brushed her cheek tenderly.

  “Not in the least, thank you.” Beth stretched up and kissed his cheek. As an afterthought, she planted a second kiss on his lips.

  “Wow, the flowers were a good idea.” His dark tan deepened with his blush. “Let’s sit down. I want to finish relaying my conversation with Rossi. We can eat later after Kaitlyn joins us.”

  “Sure.” Beth plopped onto the park bench. “But first I need to bare my soul about the meeting with Evelyn.”

  “Why don’t you tell me tonight while our trainee is at the restaurant?” Michael perched on the wall of the fountain.

  “No, please let me go first. I can’t believe how nice Evelyn treated me.” Beth launched into a highly animated recap of their conversation. Although she’d tried to be brief, Kaitlyn was strolling up the flagstone path by the time she finished.

  “Good afternoon, fellow private investigators,” Kaitlyn crowed. “I’m so glad you texted me, Michael. Turns out there wasn’t much to do at the bureau, so they released me early. And I love picnics,” she added, eyeing the bag of Subway sandwiches.

  “Pull up a bench. We have to finish our employee meeting before we chow down.” Beth peered up at Michael. “Tell us about your conversation with Rossi.” Looking at Kaitlyn, she said, “Rossi is the Tybee detective assigned to the Doyle homicide.”

  Michael looked from one woman to the other. “Maybe we should hold off until later, since the Doyle case is before Kaitlyn started.”

  “Want me to walk around the block a few times?” Kaitlyn asked after a few silent moments. “I understand about wanting to protect a client’s privacy.”

  Beth shook her head. “No, you’re one of us now. Besides, staying on the right side of enforcement is paramount. If I’m in trouble with Rossi—and I have a feeling I am—then we’ll both benefit by hearing this. I won’t let pride stand in the way of a good teaching moment.” She winked at Michael.

  He didn’t wink back. Instead, he looked stricken but nevertheless resumed the narrative. “I told you that Curtis had been released for lack of evidence and an airtight alibi, but I didn’t tell you what else Detective Rossi was mad about.”

  Beth felt a nervous twinge grip her stomach. “Why not? We both had time to chat.”

  “Because I knew you were on your way to Mrs. Doyle’s to apologize, and the rest of Rossi’s revelation had to do with her. It’s not good news for your new best friend.”

  Overhead the sun slipped behind a cloud, depriving them of its much-needed warmth on the cool day. A breeze lifted goose bumps on Beth’s arms, while the sound of children at play inexplicably ceased. It was as though the universe sensed a new tilt of the earth’s axis. “Wouldn’t it have been helpful if you’d told me?” Beth asked. “Then I could have straightened out any misunderstanding on the part of the Tybee Island police.”

  Michael fixed her with his honey-brown eyes. “If I’d told you, and you tipped off Evelyn, then Rossi could have arrested you for interfering with police business or obstruction of justice. We need to let Rossi do her job.”

  Beth’s twinge exploded into the sensation of impending doom as memories of their last case returned with a vengeance. “What did Rossi tell you about Evelyn?” In her peripheral vision, Beth saw Kaitlyn’s eyes turn round as saucers.

  Michael rubbed the back of his neck. “Mrs. Doyle was told to leave Tybee Island Thursday night, the evening after someone shot at her on the beach.” He turned to Kaitlyn. “How much has Beth told you about the case?”

  Beth answered for their newest team member. “Pretty much everything, so you can speak plainly. Of course Evelyn left the island. We told her not to stay in the house alone, and she agreed to go to a hotel.”

  Michael kept his tone soft and nonconfrontational. “But Mrs. Doyle didn’t go to a hotel like she promised. She went straight to the Bull Street address, knowing Lamar wouldn’t be there. He was in Augusta at a sales conference.” Michael aimed this explanation at Kaitlyn. “Evelyn went to see Bonnie right after telling us someone was trying to k
ill her. She’s on the security camera leaving the island and then on traffic cameras on Bull Street, including the one across the street from Lamar’s apartment. Later that night, she was photographed returning to her development on Tybee Island.”

  Beth blinked like an owl. “I’m sure she had her reasons for not going to a hotel—”

  “I’m sure she did, but we can’t ask until Rossi has a chance to check her and Bonnie’s phone records.”

  Kaitlyn took this opportunity to wedge a question in sideways. “Do the police think they planned the murder together?”

  “Rossi needs to rule out that possibility.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Beth declared.

  Michael’s smile was bittersweet. “I don’t disagree, Beth, but we must let the police do their job.”

  “I can’t ask Evelyn about this? She’s our client. We can’t just throw her to the wolves.”

  “Mrs. Doyle has an attorney to protect her legal rights in case she’s arrested. If she isn’t, then we can talk to her. Keep in mind that she lied about going to a hotel.”

  “She didn’t exactly lie,” murmured Beth.

  Michael lifted her chin with one finger, which was a very bold gesture in front of Kaitlyn. “Don’t split hairs. Mrs. Doyle had plenty of chances to explain why she went to see Bonnie, but she chose not to.”

  Kaitlyn leaned forward. “Did you ever find out who’s paying Bonnie’s rent now that Mr. Doyle passed away?”

  As much as she loved the woman’s enthusiasm, Beth wished that particular question could have waited for later. “Yes. Evelyn’s signature is on a check that paid for six months of rent.”

  “When were you planning on telling me this?” Michael crossed his arms over his polo shirt.

  Beth made eye contact with him. “Right now, at our meeting. The building superintendent called on my way back from Tybee. I’m not keeping secrets from you, partner. Not anymore.”

  Kaitlyn mitigated the uncomfortable moment. “I know Mrs. Doyle is our client, but is there any chance she and Bonnie are in this together? I mean, why would she pay six months of rent for the woman running around with her husband?”