Startled back to our conversation by Rayna snapping her fingers and saying “Helllooo,” I shrugged and laughed.
“Sorry. Sometimes I have these trances. Usually harmless.”
“I know what you mean,” Georgie said, and stood up. “Here I am, when I only meant to stay a minute or two. I’m supposed to meet Aunt Gaynelle over at Phillips. I’ll see you two soon, maybe on the next Diva day.” She waved good-bye and left out the garden gate again, but I lingered.
Rayna and I chatted a little while longer, but I’m afraid my mind wasn’t really on our conversation. I had too many questions battering my beleaguered brain. And I just knew Melody Doyle was in this up to her pretty little neck.
For once, I decided to do the sane thing and tell Jackson Lee instead of Bitty what I’d found out. It may be just a wild idea anyway. After all, despite everything, Melody really didn’t seem like the type of person who’d kill two people. But I’m sure Ted Bundy never seemed like a serial killer to all his victims until it was too late, either. That thought gave me the shivers. Then I thought about Bitty “belle-ing” information about Jefferson Johnston out of Ted Alston, and I got a cold chill. Surely, she wouldn’t act on anything she found out?
From the Inn, I went straight over to Bitty’s house, only a block and a half away. Her car wasn’t there, but Brandon and Clayton were entertaining friends.
“Where’s your mama?” I asked Brandon, and he looked a little surprised.
“I thought she was with you.”
“No.” I turned to his brother. “Clayton, did she tell you where she was going?”
“Yes, ma’am. She had to go to the bank. She’ll be right back.”
I nodded, and went right to the phone to call Bitty’s cell phone. As much as I dislike the thought of distracting her while she’s driving, I felt it important.
Bitty answered on the second ring, and I gave a sigh of relief. “Where are you, Bitty?”
“On Highway 4. I’m on the way to pick up Chen Ling from her spa treatment. Brandon took her out there early, so she’s already done for the day. Pugs dry quickly.”
“Did you already go to the bank?”
“I sure did,” Bitty said, “and wait until you hear what all I found out. Ted is just the sweetest thing, but he’s getting a little careless now that he’s seventy. Or is it seventy-one? I can’t ever remember. He’s right around the age my mama would be, I think.”
“Listen, Bitty, I’ve got to go back to see Jackson Lee, and I want you to meet me there. Don’t go anywhere else first, okay? It’s important.”
I didn’t want to scare her or get her all stirred up, because an indignant Bitty can be a dangerous Bitty. More to herself than anyone else most of the time, but there was no point in taking that chance.
“Well, I have to get Chen Ling first, you know.”
“Yes, of course, but then go straight to Jackson Lee’s office, okay?”
“Ooh, this sounds good. I can’t wait. I think Jackson Lee is going to be quite happy with what I have to tell him.”
“That sounds promising. You have proof Jefferson’s a fraud?”
“Oh no, this is too good to tell over the phone. I’ll see you in about thirty minutes.”
Bitty can be very annoying.
Jackson Lee was out when I got to his office, but his secretary said he was due back shortly. “I can get you a Coke or coffee while you wait,” Diane said, and I shook my head.
“Any more caffeine and I’m liable to start vibrating at high speed. It’s not a pretty sight.”
Diane laughed and showed me into Jackson Lee’s office to wait for him. It’s definitely a masculine office, but without the prerequisite deer head or big mouth bass hanging on the wall. It seems to me that most men consider proper wall decoration to include at least one dead animal. A rite of passage, or declaration of manhood, or just a “Look what I killed” statement. Instead, Jackson Lee has photos of his sons, his late wife, and an older couple I presume to be his parents. Diplomas hang on the hunter-green colored upper walls, a dark stained chair rail defines the line from the lower burgundy-colored walls, and big comfortable chairs make a half-circle in front of his big mahogany desk. His chair is burgundy leather, built-in shelves with cabinets line the wall behind him, and smoky glass deflects dust from a few keepsakes that look like the stuff kids do in elementary school. Misshapen bowls, a ceramic cup with World’s Best Dad obviously painted by a child and fired in a kiln, and a collection of wood objects that defy description were lit up by one of those hidden lights found in many cabinets. Any man who proudly displays such ugly things in his office has to be an excellent father. My original estimation of Jackson Lee’s fine character was only confirmed.
Jackson Lee showed up about fifteen minutes later. He’d obviously changed boots but not his clothes. Mud and something I had no intention of examining too closely stained his Levi’s. It overpowered the air freshener, but recently I’ve learned to breathe through my mouth fairly well.
“You look like you’re about to bust, Trinket,” he said, grinning at me. “Just what have you found out?”
I promptly told him what I’d heard, all unsubstantiated rumor, of course, but surely could be verified. Jackson nodded, his expression noncommittal. Then he sat back in his chair with a creak of leather and locked his hands behind his head.
“I’ve been investigating Johnston myself. I hadn’t really considered a link with Melody Doyle until now.”
“You have? Why have you suspected Johnston of being involved?”
“Something he said at that St. Patrick’s Day party. It just didn’t sound right. Not for a foot doctor. Of course, I don’t know much about podiatry, so I didn’t think much of it at the time. It just hit me later.”
We looked at each other, both tangled in our own thought processes, his much more legal and thorough than mine, I’m sure. Still, if Jefferson Johnston warranted investigation, and Melody Doyle was involved with him, the two of them were likely to be up to something that had to do with The Cedars. That might explain Sanders being killed, but why the senator?
After a few moments of thinking, Jackson Lee leaned forward and clasped his hands atop his desk. “You should know that Philip Hollandale got a measure tacked on to the supplemental appropriation bill to pay for the war in Iraq. It involves the increase of a previous twenty million dollar cap for the Regional Utility Authority. New trunk lines, an interceptor, and a centralized wastewater treatment system that involve Sanders’ land.”
I just looked at him for a minute. “Uh, does this involve the Nissan plant, too?”
Jackson Lee shook his head. “No. Apparently, that was just a rumor. Although Nissan is looking at possible sites in our area for their new plant, Sanders’ land isn’t one of the sites listed. I checked it out. Sanders’ land is earmarked for sewage trunk lines that stop any Nissan deal.”
“So Philip wasn’t really trying to make a deal to buy Sanders’ land for Nissan? What does he get out of it?”
“Maybe the senator was paying back favors to some big donors in the Utility Authority.”
“So maybe Sanders did kill him. Then that still leaves the question of who killed Sanders and why. And how is Johnston involved in this, and Melody?”
My brain started to throb. I seemed to be going in circles. Then I remembered Bitty.
“Bitty should be here any minute. She has some information on Jefferson Johnston she’s going to share. It may be something you already know, but she sounds quite excited about it.”
Jackson Lee glanced at his watch, an inexpensive sports watch when he could probably afford a top of the line Rolex. “Where is she?”
“She went to pick up her dog. It’s being groomed.”
“Willow Bend?”
I shook my head. “No, the dog grooming place farther down the road, halfway between here and Snow Lake. Bitty says they give specialized care.”
He grinned. “Bitty sure is particular about that dog.”
“Bitty can be fiercely protective of someone or something she loves. I sure wouldn’t want to get in her way.”
We both smiled, thinking of Bitty wearing that dog like a new ornament all the time, as obsessed with it as she’d been her boys when they were younger. That’s just Bitty’s nature. She’s always been like that. One thing about Bitty, she loves deeply. That may sound like a funny thing to say about a woman who’s had four divorces, but while she may make light of it at times, each decision had been heart-wringing for her. And once the decision was made, there was no going back. She had to reach the point of No Return, and after that, while she could be civil to them, and may even love them as a friend, nothing any of her husbands could say would coax her back.
After another half hour passed, Jackson Lee called Bitty on her cell phone to see what was keeping her. She didn’t answer, so he called the grooming place to see if she’d left yet. The expression on his face made me uneasy, and when he hung up, he took a deep breath.
“Bitty left an hour ago with her dog. Rachel said she saw her talking to someone in the parking lot, but she couldn’t see who. Bitty’s car is still there.”
I gripped the edge of his desk hard enough to break a nail. “Was it Melody Doyle, do you think? Or . . . or Jefferson Johnston?”
“I think we need to bring in the police. Whether or not she’s in danger, we can’t take any chances.”
I didn’t argue. Bitty isn’t stupid. Bitty wouldn’t get in a car with either, especially if she’d just found out things about Jefferson Johnston, since she and I had already decided that Melody is somehow connected to him. So if Bitty did get in a car with one of them, even Melody, it had to be because she was forced.
Jackson Lee was on the phone with the Holly Springs Police Department when I stood up. He waved me to sit back down, but I shook my head. I couldn’t just sit. I had to do something. I had to go to Bitty’s house to tell Clayton and Brandon before they heard it from someone else.
“Tell Jackson Lee that I’m going to Bitty’s house,” I said to Diane on my way out, and she nodded. He’d know why.
Clayton was gone with some friends, but Brandon was there. Most of the boyishness in his face vanished, and his mouth thinned into a taut line when I told him my fears. He nodded.
“Mama isn’t a fool. Scattered, yes, but she’s not known to be stupid. If she thinks it’s not right, she wouldn’t get in a car with one of them unless she was forced.”
“I know the police are efficient, but the more people out looking, the quicker we can find her, I hope. But Brandon,” I added when he reached for his cell phone, “tell everyone not to get close if they find them, just call the police immediately. If Melody has been desperate enough to kidnap Bitty, she might be desperate enough to kill her if anyone goes blundering in.”
“If that bitch touches one hair on my mama’s head, she’ll wish she hadn’t,” Brandon said in a growling tone that reminded me a little bit of his grandfather. John Truevine hadn’t been any man to mess with when it came to his family. Just like my daddy.
Knowing a force of determined college kids was about to be mobilized, I felt a little better about Bitty being found. Give young adults an important mission, and my experience has always been that they are more than capable of succeeding.
“Oh,” I said as Brandon headed for the door, “you might go by and pick up Georgie Marshall, too. Gaynelle Bishop’s niece. She’s probably at the museum or the cemetery.”
Brandon stopped in the foyer. “Why her?”
“She’s more than familiar with the history of Holly Springs and is likely to know the best hiding places.”
Making an “okay” sign with his thumb and forefinger, Brandon left. I headed over to the Inn. Rayna could mobilize the Divas, and would know who to trust.
I caught her in the midst of her new painting, a rendition of the Audubon gardens out at Strawberry Plains. She was working from a photograph taped up to a small easel nearby.
As soon as I told her about Bitty, she stripped off her work clothes and grabbed a dog leash off a hook. That startled me.
“What are you doing?”
“Jinx is a tracker. We’ll take him with us if we find a location where Bitty might have been taken. I’ll call the Divas. You go back to Bitty’s and get an article of her clothing that she’s recently worn.”
I looked doubtfully at Jinx, a rather pudgy golden retriever mix who’d sat up alertly the minute Rayna picked up his leash. He doesn’t look like a tracker, unless it involves ham hocks or roast beef, but then, as I’d recently been reminded, appearances can be deceiving.
I left for Bitty’s.
Maybe Bitty’s much neater than I am, or better at hiding her sloppiness. It took me several minutes to find an article of her clothing that I knew she’d recently worn. Her nightgown lay in a white wicker clothes hamper hidden under a shelf in her bathroom closet. How tidy. My discarded clothes go into a rattan hamper in plain sight in the bathroom. I like organization, but don’t feel a need to hide it.
By the time I got back to the Inn, Rayna had changed into sensible shoes with socks, khaki pants with pockets on the legs, a long-sleeved windbreaker, and wore an Atlanta Braves baseball cap. Jinx looked very business-like in a spiffy little orange vest and his brown leather leash. I felt inappropriately dressed, as usual.
“You’re fine,” Rayna said when I mentioned my clothes, and tossed me a windbreaker. “Just take that along. We’ve got a storm brewing.”
A glance outside showed me bright sunshine, soft breezes, puffy clouds, and gently swaying grass. But like Rayna, I know how quickly a storm can blow across the Mississippi river and the delta, coming from the west with colder air that clashes with the warm, humid air coming up from the Gulf Coast. It usually creates thunderstorms at best, tornados at worst. Part of the price for living in an area rich with history, cotton, and eccentric relatives.
“Is anyone coming here to meet us?” I asked, and Rayna shook her head.
“Gaynelle’s calling Sandra and Georgie. We’ve all got cell phones to keep in touch.”
“Oh good. Then Brandon doesn’t have to find Georgie. What about Cindy?”
Rayna hesitated. “After all the confusion, maybe it’s best to leave her out right now.”
I understood. “Five of us should be enough, anyway. Clayton and Brandon and their friends are out looking, too. And of course, the police. I imagine Jackson Lee has his own posse rounded up by now.”
“We’ll find her.” Rayna put her hand on my arm. “She’ll be all right, Trinket. Nothing bad ever happens to Bitty. Or bad enough to really hurt her, anyway.”
Nodding, I said, “I know. Mama says it’s because she’s crazy as a Betsy bug, and we should be as smart as the Indians. They knew to leave crazy people alone.”
Rayna smiled. “See? Bitty comes with her own built-in protection.”
I just hoped we were right.
* * * *
Jackson Lee showed up at the Inn with Kit Coltrane. I was too worried about Bitty to do more than nod at Dr. Coltrane.
“I’ve joined the search party this time,” he said, and it took me a moment, but then I remembered my comment to him the day he’d found me in the root cellar.
“Civic duty is always appreciated,” I said, and Dr. Coltrane smiled.
“Jackson Lee shared the basics with me, but what do you ladies think? You’d have more of an idea where they might have gone than we would.”
While I was a little surprised that the male ego was so ready to relinquish any kind of control, even just asking our opinions, Rayna immediately said, “It’d have to be somewhere she feels safe. Melody, I mean. I’m sure the police are checking Mrs. Overton’s house and probably The Cedars, as well as Easthaven and Dr. Johnston’s office. Those are the most obvious places. I think she might go to her cabin.”
“What cabin is that?” Jackson Lee asked.
“Snow Lake. That’s how she met Cindy, you know. At one of the Snow Lake c
ommunity dinners. And that’s how we met her.”
“So Cindy joined the Divas at Melody’s invitation?” I asked. When Rayna nodded, I wondered if I had overlooked a connection there. Truth is, my brain darted from one possibility to the next, and I didn’t rule out anyone as a suspect. I told you I’m a cynic.
Gaynelle arrived at the Inn then, parking in the rear like the rest of us. Sandra was with her.
“Where’s Georgie?” Rayna asked Gaynelle, and I slapped my forehead.
“Oh, I didn’t call Brandon. He probably picked her up. I figured she’d know the best places to look since she knows this area so well.”
Gaynelle nodded. “So that’s why she didn’t answer her cell phone. I thought she might be here already, so Sandra and I came on over. I’m glad she’s with Bitty’s boys. She’ll help them.”
“Okay,” Jackson Lee said, “now that we know where everyone is, we need to decide where everyone searches. As Rayna said, the police are covering the obvious places first, but they won’t stop there. We don’t need to be covering territory already covered, or backtrack.”
The tone of his voice was grim and urgent. My stomach flipped. When I looked over at Dr. Coltrane, I recognized urgency in his expression, too. While I’d already realized the danger, it hadn’t seemed truly real until that moment. Maybe somehow I’d still held out hope that it was just another one of Bitty’s melodramas.
Maybe I swayed or something, because Kit Coltrane grabbed my arm and held it. “We all need to split up into pairs and search different areas first,” he said. “The Marshall County police are checking here, so someone needs to check Snow Lake since it’s in Benton County.”
Jackson Lee got out a legal pad and wrote down specific areas to search. Then he gave them out. “Sandra, you come with me. We’ll take horses out to the old Richmond place where they lived after they lost The Cedars. Kit, you and Trinket check the Snow Lake cabin. Gaynelle, you and Rayna see if the dog can find a trail at the groomer’s. We’ll keep in touch by cell phones. My number’s on here, everyone swap cell numbers. Call as soon as you find something or rule it out.”
Dixie Divas Page 31
