Death in Dahlonega (A Trixie Montgomery Cozy Mystery Book 1)

by Deborah Malone

  I poked Dee Dee in the ribs.

  “Ouch.” She rubbed her side. “What did you do that for?”

  “Look over there. See the man sitting next to the redhead?”

  “Sure. What’s so important about him you had to crack my rib?”

  “That looks like Leroy, Joyce’s nephew. What do you think he’s doing talking with Sueleigh Dalton? That guy gives me the creeps. I thought I was going to wet my pants when he snuck up on me last night.” I wadded up my sandwich wrapper and threw it in a nearby garbage can.

  “Don’t exaggerate, Trix. You said he was making his nightly rounds. It’s no wonder you were edgy last night after the horrible day we’d been through.”

  I knew she was trying her best to convince me that I was wrong, but it wasn’t working. “Dee Dee, there’s something in my gut. I just can’t put my finger on it. To see him talking with Sueleigh adds fuel to the fire. Some coincidence if you ask me. Come on; let’s buy a ticket for the carriage ride. I’m going to find out one way or the other what he’s up to.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  When the carriage turned the corner, we were next in line. I glanced over at Dee Dee. “Close your mouth before a fly takes up residence in there.”

  I knew what caused her laxity of the jaw. Even from a distance, I had to work hard to avert my stare and avoid taking in the whole picture. I knew why Tatum fell hard for Sueleigh. In fact, I could understand why any breathing male, regardless of age, might be attracted to her. A tight pale lavender sweater accentuated the largest set of manmade boobs I’d ever seen.

  She wore her long, fiery red hair flowing down her back. Enough make up covered her face to qualify for a walking advertisement. No doubt, many a head had turned to get a second look at the combination of ample chest, red hair, and painted face.

  “She’ll never have to worry about falling flat on her face.” Dee Dee chuckled at her bad joke.

  “Shhhh! Act natural. Here she comes.”

  Next thing I knew, Sueleigh Dalton looked our way. She pulled the reins back and a beautiful brown and white horse came to a stop. “Hi. You ladies ready?”

  “Sure. Come on Dee Dee.” I grabbed her and guided her to the back seat, and then I turned to Sueleigh and asked her if I could sit up front. “I’ve always wanted to sit up front with the driver.”

  “I don’t usually let riders up front. It could be dangerous; if there’s an accident, somebody might file a law suit because they fell off the wagon,” she laughed.

  I didn’t want to miss a chance to get up close and personal with a suspect, so I blurted out what I hoped would entice her to break the rules. “What if I told you I’m interested in interviewing you for a magazine article? I write for Georgia By the Way, and I’m working on an article about Gold Rush Days. I’d like my assistant to take your picture. There’s a good chance it could make the cover.”

  She whooshed her hair behind her back. “In that case, I don’t think it would hurt this one time. Come on up.” She eyed my cane with a quizzical expression. “Do you need me to help you up?”

  “I think I can make it if you give me a hand.” With a little grunting and groaning, Sueleigh managed to pull me up beside her. With a flick of the reins and a ‘giddy up,’ we started on our way.

  “The man riding with you looked familiar. Does he work at the inn?”

  “Oh, that’s Leroy Roberts, the owner’s nephew. He’s a friend of mine. We go back a long way. As a matter of fact, we went to school together. We were discussing the murder of John Tatum. I guess you’ve heard about it?” She raised painted eyebrows in question. She pulled on a rein and the horse turned down a back street.

  “Yes, we have. What did you discuss about the murder?”

  Sueleigh emitted a high-pitched scream, making the horses ears flick back and forth. “Oh my Gosh!” she exclaimed. “I know who you are. You’re the lady that killed John.”

  “That’s not true,” I said. I turned around to see if Dee Dee had heard. She seemed oblivious as she watched the scenery. I gave her one of my most charming smiles and continued.

  “What I mean is, it wasn’t anyone I know. My friend Dee Dee has, however, been questioned by the sheriff about the murder of your ex-boyfriend.”

  “How did you know he was my ex-boyfriend?” She narrowed her gaze and pulled back on the leather straps. The horse slowed. For a minute, I thought she might stop and order us out.

  “Okay.” I held my hands up in surrender. “I really am a reporter, and I’m working on a story about Gold Rush Days, but I’m also trying to help my best friend. I’ve been asking around town about anyone closely associated with Tatum. I have to help Dee Dee. The sheriff doesn’t seem interested in looking for the real killer, so we’ve decided to find out who it is.” I waited to see her reaction. When she didn’t kick us out I continued. “We need your help,” I pleaded.

  Sympathy cooled her gaze. “Well, I know what it’s like to have people look at you like you’re really bad. But how can I help you?”

  “Is it true you and John were involved?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

  “If you call having his child involved, yes we were. He broke my heart. John told me over and over that he’d divorce Miranda so we could get married.” Tears glistened in her eyes and my heart softened—until I remembered it was another woman’s husband she’d been involved with. I swallowed down my judgment and listened as she went on.

  “I was so excited when I found out I was pregnant. I just knew he’d divorce Miranda, marry me, and give the baby a name. Boy, was I ever wrong.” The words spewed from her painted mouth. “He not only fired me as his secretary; he stopped calling me. I tried to contact him over and over. He told me I’d better stop harassing him or he was going to get a restraining order. Can you believe that?” She pulled back on the reins to let a group of tourists pass. “A restraining order. On me! I was carrying his child, and he threatened to have me arrested if I didn’t stop bothering him. He even suggested I do something about the pregnancy. I know I might not be the brightest light bulb in the room, but I would never harm my unborn child.”

  She moved up a notch in my book as the horse’s hooves clip-clopped along the street. People pointed and waved. Kids begged their parents for a ride.

  It dawned on me; Sueleigh had grown used to the finger pointing for all sorts of different reasons. No matter what the circumstances, this woman had been wronged. Through it all, she had protected her unborn child.

  Sueleigh continued. “After that, I stopped contacting him. I didn’t want anything to do with that man. I have a beautiful little girl, and I’ve been raising her myself, with some help from my parents. They were furious with John. Daddy wanted me to take him to court and make him pay child support. I thought about it, but knowing John’s temper, I decided to let it go. I didn’t want his money anyway.”

  Her voice dropped several levels. “There’s other ways besides money to make someone pay.” She looked straight ahead and concentrated on turning the horse down a lane.

  Whether it was by bribery or murder, I suddenly believed she’d made him pay, and dearly at that.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I’m sorry about your misfortune. I’ve been told John touched a lot of people’s lives, but not always for the best.” I spied the Visitor’s Center approaching and knew the ride was ending, and I’d almost forgotten the magazine interview. “Sueleigh, can we take another lap around? I want to ask you a few more questions. Uh, about the carriage rides.”

  “If there’s no one waiting. You want more information about the horses? We train our own you know. My father has trained carriage horses for people all over the United States.”

  “Uh, yeah, that’s interesting.” I scribbled so she’d think I really cared about the horses, and glanced over my shoulder. DeeDee’s fingers were steepled in prayer, her eyes closed and lips moving. I shouted to get her attention and made a circle with my hand indicating we were going another round. She gave
me a little wave. “Uh, Sueleigh. Can you think of anything else that might help clear my friend’s name?”

  “Nope, I can’t tell you anything else that would help.” She smiled thin and even, more like a sneer under her carefully placed façade.

  I could see continuing this line of questioning was pointless. Sueleigh had given me enough to confirm she had as much a reason to want Tatum dead as anyone. And, she’d added two more suspects to my list. John certainly didn’t hold a special place in her parents’ hearts, either.

  “One more question. I’m looking for Tommy Hawkins. Do you know where he lives?” I thought those Tammy Faye eyes would pop right out of her head.

  “Everybody knows Tommy Hawkins. Look, you don’t want to go out there. He’s crazy. He used to go around town, drunk as a skunk, telling anyone who’d listen he was going to kill John for shooting his brother.” Sueleigh pulled back on the reins at the stop, and the carriage slowed to a halt.

  “I heard as much. I need to talk with him, though. It sounds like he had every reason to want John dead. Don’t you agree?”

  She bobbed her head in agreement, catching my bait. “Yeah, sure. But that doesn’t mean you need to go out there. You’re asking for trouble if you do.”

  “Please tell me where ‘there’ is. If it were your friend in trouble, wouldn’t you want to help her?” I must have hit a chord on her heartstrings because I could see her expression soften.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. The Hawkins’ are the meanest folks in these parts. Everyone says they run a still back up in the woods behind their house. They’ve made it clear they don’t want anyone snooping around their property.” Her blue-shadowed eyes widened as she spoke. “Are you familiar with Amicalola Falls?”

  I nodded my head yes.

  “That’s the road you’ll take. Go five miles out of town until you see the sign. Take a right, and go another ten miles or so and you’ll see the entrance, but don’t turn in. You’re going to go past the entrance and down the road another three or four miles.” She gestured each turn with her hands.

  I jotted down the directions in haste. I hoped I’d be able to read them when the time came. Outside the carriage, I had Dee Dee take a few shots of Sueleigh, posing with her horse.

  By the time we said good-bye, you’d have thought we were best friends. It didn’t seem to dawn on her that I had asked her questions that could implicate her in a murder. Maybe she wasn’t “the brightest bulb in the room,” but I’d taken a liking to this girl and hoped she didn’t have anything to do with Tatum’s murder.

  Dee Dee and I were beat, emotionally and physically, and I needed to get back to the inn and check on Nana. “Come on, assistant.” I hobbled a few steps and Dee Dee took my elbow to help steady me. “Let’s go see what trouble Nana’s cooked up.”

  When I limped into the room, Nana sat up sharply.

  “Missy, what’s wrong with you? Is your knee acting up again? If it were me, I wouldn’t wait to have surgery.”

  “It’s not your knee they’re going to cut open, Nana.” I clipped, and regretted it. She was right, though. I had put it off much too long. My job required a lot of walking, so the condition wasn’t going to get any better as time went by. I made a mental note to consult with the orthopedic surgeon when we got back home. Sooner than later I hoped.

  Nana sat on a cot surrounded by an empty pizza box and a big bottle of Coke she’d had for lunch, and practically thrummed with the sugar coursing through her veins. “Well, do you see anything different?”

  I assumed she was talking about the roll-away and not the food.

  In the crowded room, the extra bed made it impossible to go to the bathroom without turning sideways. The small area had become a breeding ground for stubbed toes and bumped knees.

  “And who will be sleeping on the cot, may I ask?”

  Nana spoke up. “I don’t mind sleeping on it. I’m tough.”

  Dee Dee glanced at me with raised eyebrows, then turned to Nana. “Nana! Don’t be silly. I’ll be glad to.”

  “Oh, good grief. I was kidding!” I sank down on the cot, squeaks filling the room, wires poking my backside. “Can’t you guys take a little humor?”

  “You most certainly will not. Your knee is killing you. I won’t have you tossing and turning all night. You’ll keep us awake,” Dee Dee winked. She stood with her hands on her hips, looking as if she could take on the world. Who was I to argue? She needed a little control in her life. Since my knee hurt, it was a win-win situation.

  “Ladies, let’s save this for later. I’m hungry, and they’re serving dinner now. You don’t want to miss it, do you? Just let me get my pocketbook.”

  Dee Dee and I grabbed our purses, too, and together we maneuvered out of the door.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The dining room held a menagerie of people. The sights and sounds transported me back to Granny Morgan’s where my family would meet for weekly Sunday dinners. The dark oak floors of the dining room shone like polished glass. Off-white wainscoting complimented the flowered wallpaper. Country blue molding and chair rails tied everything together like a photo in Southern Living magazine.

  High ceilings, painted to match the wainscot, were accented with heavy oak beams and chandeliers that hung over each large family style table. The smell of frying chicken and freshly baked biscuits swirled around me like ghosts from a time gone by.

  My eyes scanned the room, and I observed guests partaking of homemade dishes. Others sat with heads close together, talking and laughing, all of them oblivious to our troubles.

  Nana interrupted my thoughts. “Why, there’s Joyce, and that nice, young nephew of hers. He had the cot set up in our room in no time at all. They just don’t make ‘em like that anymore. Except for Beau, of course,” she added, with a sharp elbow to my ribs.

  Joyce approached and led us to a large round table already occupied by Sheriff Wheeler. “Ladies, I hope you enjoy your meal. If you need anything, be sure and let me know.” She gave us a smile and went off to tend to other guests.

  “Good evening.” Sherriff Wheeler greeted us by standing up, offering out a chair to Nana and when she’d accepted, pushed it in with a chivalrous flare.

  I gaped after Joyce, now chatting at another table. Why did she seat us here? She had to have made a mistake.

  Nana floated out her napkin.

  “Nana, get up. We’re going to find another table.” I placed a hand on her chair back.

  “Trixie, what’s gotten into you? There’s nothing wrong with this table, and I’m not moving.” She stuck to the seat like glue. She made goo-goo eyes at the sheriff. Not long ago, I thought he was easy on the eyes. Things change. Right this minute he didn’t look so good to me. His sidekick, Deputy Ray, plodded across the room and, with a nod, sat next to him.

  “Trixie, sit down. You’re making a scene,” Dee Dee pleaded. Her face paled in the dim light.

  How dare he do this to her! Couldn’t he leave us alone long enough to eat in peace? I had a gut feeling this was a set up.

  “Trixie, why don’t you introduce your young friend? I don’t believe we’ve met.” The sheriff met my eyes.

  Oh puleeeeeeeese.

  Nana grinned from ear to ear.

  “Sheriff Wheeler, this is my great-aunt. Nana, this is Sheriff Wheeler.” I reluctantly sat down, and settled my napkin. “Shouldn’t you be out looking for John Tatum’s murderer?”

  He met my gaze with equal measure, and then turned back to my aunt. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ma’am. I see where your niece gets her good looks.” He shook Nana’s hand and held it longer than necessary.

  The waiters brought large bowls of mashed potatoes, green beans, potato salad, and baked beans and sat them on the table. Silence ensued for the next few minutes while everyone filled their plates. I needed energy, so I wasn’t going to let this put a damper on my appetite. Looking at the mountains of mashed potatoes piled on the other plates, I could tell no one else
was, either.

  After several minutes, the sheriff disclosed the reason for this supposedly impromptu meeting. “I heard you’ve been asking some questions of our local citizens.”

  “That’s what writers do, Sheriff Wheeler.” I gave him a sickeningly sweet smile.

  “You know what I mean. This is serious, and I’m not going to be responsible for what might happen to you.” The sheriff put both hands on the edge of the table and gave me his now famous “I’m not kidding” look.

  “All right, I won’t hold you responsible.” I had no intention of giving in yet. I had leads to follow. I returned his look with my best “I’m not giving up” stare.

  He continued. “I have some information that might lead us to another suspect. This could possibly clear Dee Dee once and for all. It’s being checked into as we speak.” He leaned in further towards me, returned my gaze, and didn’t look away.

  What beautiful blue eyes you have, Jake.

  “I promise to let you know if anything transpires from the lead. Now, you promise to leave the investigation to us.”

  He looked so satisfied; I hated to burst his bubble. “That’s great news Sheriff, but I’m not sure I can do that. I have more people to interview for my article. I can’t help it if they’re acquaintances of Tatum’s. It’s a small town, after all.”

  His demeanor changed in a millisecond. He grumbled, just loud enough for me to hear. “Look, Ms. Montgomery, I’ve tried being nice to you. I know this has been hard on you and Ms. Lamont, but stay out of where you don’t belong. Consider yourself warned.” With hands on the edge of the table, he pushed his chair back and nodded to Deputy Ray.

  “But, I’m not through eating yet.” The deputy met his boss’s eyes and he changed his mind. “Oh. I guess I’ve had enough.” He scooted his chair back and tipped his hat to us. “Ladies.”

  With that, we watched the local law enforcement, and any olive branch they might have offered, storm out of the restaurant.