Whipped Wedding Woes: A Cozy Mystery (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book 8)

by Constance Barker

  “But isn’t this like breaking and entering, or something like that?” I looked at Stormi. “You’re married to a police officer…what kind of crime are we committing?”

  “Hey, I’m just trying to get my big acting debut in order.” Stormi was to distract the nurses while Paige accessed a computer and I would be the lookout. Paige, Stormi and I climbed on the elevator and rode to the third floor where there might not be as many people roaming the halls. We got off and headed towards the nurse’s station, while Stormi waited down the hall by a small empty waiting area. We noticed two nurses at the station. We peered down the hallways to see if anyone else was around. The halls appeared empty so we gave Stormi the signal to start the show. Suddenly we heard her howl out in pain. Paige and I looked at each. “Dang she’s good,” Paige said as the two nurses ran past us down the hall.

  We ran over and Paige quickly accessed the computer, typing furiously. I watched down the hallway to ensure the nurses remained with Stormi. She was putting on a heck of a show. The nurses ran to Stormi as she bent over pointing at her ankle. The nurses guided Stormi to a nearby chair in the small waiting area. She kept moaning and groaning complaining that her ankle hurt, as if she’d twisted it. It seemed she was enjoying this little ruse and being in the spotlight. All of a sudden, another nurse with a wheelchair came up to the group. They were trying to get Stormi into the wheelchair, but Stormi kept shaking her head.

  “You better hurry up!” I whispered to Paige. “They’re about to cart Stormi off in a wheelchair.”

  Paige didn’t look away from the computer screen. “She can handle it.”

  “Are you finding anything?”

  “Its Howard right….surely it wouldn’t be under Howie.”

  “You better try just in case,” I whispered watching the fiasco occurring down the hallway. “Hurry before they cart Stormi away to the loony bin!”

  Stormi was in dire straits. She had to keep up the deception of a hurt ankle but without having the nurses take her down to x-ray. I watched as she shook her head regarding the wheelchair. One nurse put her hands on her hips, obviously becoming impatient with Stormi’s reluctance to get in the wheelchair. The other nurse squatted down to examine Stormi’s ankle. She shook her head and said something to Stormi. I could tell Storm was becoming anxious.

  “Paige, we’ve got to get out of here!”

  Paige jumped up. “Okay, let’s go!”

  We fast walked down the hallway past Stormi and the nurses. As soon as Stormi saw us get into the elevator, she tried to get away from the nurses. As the elevators closed, she gave us the stink eye for leaving her there. I was breathing hard…this spy stuff wasn’t for me, but it seemed to be right up Paige’s alley.

  “Wow, what a rush!” She was definitely in her element. “This undercover business is thrilling. I may have to look into becoming a private eye.”

  “Go right ahead,” I said as I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow. “I’ll keep my day job thank you very much.”

  Paige was animated. “Nope, I think I found my destiny.”

  However, when the elevator doors opened we walked into chaos. A doctor grabbed Paige’s arm to direct her to the ER where patients were streaming in. They were coughing and gagging. Seems that a truck carrying fertilizer turned over right next to a factory where the ventilation sucked the fumes into the building.

  I followed the doctor and Paige. I couldn’t abandon two of my friends! We stepped into the ER where dozens of people were tossing their cookies into bags. Now Paige is a rock solid gal when it comes to most things, but being around people regurgitating their lunch…well it’s her kryptonite. Stormi’s Achilles heel was snorting and laughing when she’s nervous; and Paige’s is dry gagging when other people are barfing. I knew as soon as we entered the room Paige was going down in flames. She lifted a hand to her mouth and started gagging. Of course, I have the same chink in the armor as Stormi. As soon as she gagged, I chortled. The more she gagged the more I convulsed with laughter, tears streaming down my face. I grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the room towards the parking garage. We must have been a sight as nurses, patients and guests all looked at us as if we’d escaped from the loony bin.

  By the time we made it to Paige’s SUV, my stomach hurt from laughing and Paige was exhausted from all the gagging. We fell into the vehicle and Paige’s cell phone rang. It was Stormi.

  “Cowards!” I heard her rail.

  Paige was having none of it. “Get down to the car…we’re waiting.”

  “How could you leave…?” Paige cut her off mid sentence and hung up. Then she turned to me.

  “Well that was exciting. I was doing fine until we stumbled into the…” Paige shook her head. “Ok, forget about that fiasco and me ever mentioning becoming a private eye.”

  “What did you find out?”

  “Absolutely nothing. There was no record of him being admitted into this hospital.”

  “What? That doesn’t make any sense. Why would Luella lie about that?”

  Suddenly the back door opened and we both jumped. Stormi piled into the back.

  “So what did you find out?”

  “Nothing. Like I told Tara, there was no record of him being here.”

  “What the frack! If he wasn’t here, then where did she take him?”

  “We need to talk to your mother and Doreen,” I said. “Weren’t they the last ones to talk to Luella?”

  “Okay,” Stormi replied. “I’ll call Doreen, but I want to talk to Momma in person.”

  Chapter Seven

  Doreen was no help. She and Howie had been estranged for many years, so although she was distraught that her only child died, she wasn’t any help in locating his body. She said Luella only told her she’d have the ashes shipped to her. However, she did have the address of the funeral home where his body was to be cremated. It was in a little town south of Caesars Creek. But before we headed there, Stormi wanted to stop by her mother’s house.

  Dottie moved out of Brandon’s place into a senior living community several months ago. The homes were all duplexes, which worked great for Dottie who didn’t need a large living space. As we gathered in her small living room, Stormi proceeded to tell her what we found out at the hospital.

  Dottie fanned herself with one of her magazines. “I cannot believe you girls. What if you had gotten caught?”

  Stormi raised her iced tea drink to her temple. She was sweating in her mother’s living room. “Momma, you need to turn the air conditioning on.”

  “I am not getting hit with a high electricity bill. Just turn on the fan.”

  Stormi looked at her mother with dull eyes. “You do know the fan uses electricity too.”

  Dottie smacked the magazine down. “Yes I do Miss Smarty Pants.”

  “Okay everyone, lets try and get a grip and remember what we came here for,” Paige said impatiently. “Is there anything that Luella or Howie said to you that seemed out of place or odd?”

  Dottie positioned a small fan on an end table to blow right in her face. “Well honestly, anything Howie said was strange. You know he was so intelligent, but couldn’t hold a normal conversation if it sat in his lap and called him Momma.”

  Dottie shook her head. “All I remember is him talking about developing some strange machine that could talk to ghosts. He was so excited about it, but he needed the money to get it off the ground. Something about sound waves and ultraviolet lights.”

  “He talked to Bruce about it too,” Paige replied. “He even wanted Bruce to invest in it, but of course we wouldn’t.”

  “Where was he planning on getting the funding for his project?” I asked.

  “I know he was pestering my father about investing in it. Daddy always talks about all this money he has, so Howie thought he’d for sure get it from him. But of course, Daddy has told those tall tales of hitting it big in the stock market for ages. Doreen and I always took it with a grain of salt. We’ve never seen anything to back it up. He certa
inly never spent any of those millions on himself or his children. I think he tells these stories to make himself feel more important and no one ever debates him about it. I mean, let an old man have some comfort in his made up stories.”

  “Momma, are you done rambling?” Stormi was impatient when she was sweating buckets.

  “You all wanted to know about Howie and his cockamamie invention plans.” Dottie sat back in her chair and allowed the fan to cool the sweat on her brow.

  “Okay Momma, thanks for the info.”

  As we gathered outside, we decided to take a drive out to Jeb’s house. Maybe he could shed more light on Howie’s last few days. Unfortunately, we were wrong. Now Jeb was delighted to see us. He didn’t get many visitors out here in the countryside, but his property was stunning with all the various rose bushes and wild flower patches dotting his yard. His garden brimmed with full ears of corn, ripe and red tomatoes, and yellow and green peppers. He loaded us down with bags of the delicious vegetables until we filled the back of Paige’s SUV to the brim. Then we sat down with glasses of sweet tea to visit with Papaw Jeb.

  Jeb regaled us with stories from his youth and funny ditties about Dottie and Doreen that I knew Stormi was storing away for further use. Then we sat around Jeb’s evening primrose bush and at approximately 7:43 pm, he directed our attention to the sudden movements of the plant. The bush shuddered for 30 seconds and then yellow blooms sprouted from the tiny limbs. It was like watching one of those fast action movies of flowers blooming, but this was happening right in front of us. I loved it.

  “I need to get me one of those for my front yard,” I exclaimed.

  “It’s fun to watch,” Jeb said. “But every night the blooms fall off and you have to clean them up each morning. But the show it provides is well worth the effort.” I had to agree.

  “Papaw Jeb, we need to ask you a few questions about Howie,” Stormi said.

  Jeb shook his head and rubbed the grey whiskers on his chin. “It’s a dang shame what happened to that boy. So young…I don’t quite understand.”

  “We don’t either Papaw, but we heard from Momma that he’d been out here to talk to you.”

  Jeb shifted in his lawn chair. He wore a pair of worn out jeans and a white t-shirt. His lean frame and long legs over took the small lawn chair.

  “Yes he’d been out here a few times. He wanted me to invest in his new venture, something about recording ghosts.” Jeb rubbed his chin between two fingers. “I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but well, hunting ghosts just didn’t seem like a healthy financial venture. I sadly declined his offer and he wasn’t very happy about it. In fact one day he became angry, said if I had all that money why didn’t I spend some of it on my kids and grandkids. I told him that it was their inheritance from me and he said ‘so we have to wait until you’re dead then.’ I was a little hurt at first, but then chalked it up to him being over zealous about his creations.”

  “However, a few days before the wedding, I went out to the barn and found that someone had been digging around the dirt floor. I never knew who it was, but I suspect it was Howie looking for my money.”

  “Why would he dig around in your barn?” Paige asked.

  “I might have said that I stashed some money in the barn. He probably thought I buried it.”

  “So he was trying to steal from you?” Stormi exclaimed. “Why that dirty rat!”

  “Now Stormi, we mustn’t speak ill of the dead,” Jeb replied. “You know your cousin was a little eccentric. Although I think he was becoming a bit desperate.”

  I could tell Stormi wasn’t buying it, but she wasn’t going to upset Papaw Jeb. It was getting late so we thanked him again for all the delicious produce and bid him goodnight.

  As we drove away Stormi said, “I don’t get it. Why would he be so desperate for money now? Unless it had to do with Luella.”

  “All roads lead back to Luella,” I said. “She’s the common denominator in all of this.”

  “Yes, she is,” Paige remarked. “All the more reason to find her.”

  Chapter Eight

  The next day was business as usual at The Frozen Scoop. Stormi and Greg delayed their honeymoon until we could find the underlying cause of Howie’s death. We decided to work that day until late afternoon, when Sammi and her friends could come in and take over for us once again at the shoppe. Then we would head to the funeral home where Howie’s body was to be cremated. We still couldn’t reach anyone on the phone, so an in person meet and greet would have to occur.

  Paige stopped over around noon to get her and Bruce strawberry and banana smoothies. While she was there, ol’ Charlie made his daily entrance as well. Paige ran over to hold the door open for him. He had his cigar, which Paige promptly told him he couldn’t bring inside the shoppe.

  “Oh, I tend to forget that,” he replied. “Here you go,” giving Paige the cigar.

  I could read the ‘crap’ expression on Paige’s face a mile away. She held the cigar between two fingers and as far away from her face as possible and stubbed it out on the sidewalk. I heard Brandon’s voice say, “Didn’t know you started smoking cigars Paige. Going for the George Burns look?”

  “How about I stub this out in your eye,” Paige remarked as she stood up.

  “My my, we are cranky today,” Brandon continued to kid as he opened the door.

  “We are not cranky,” Paige replied. “But I think I’ve been relegated to Charlie’s ashtray.”

  Stormi and I giggled while Charlie rolled his wheelchair to one of the tables. I brought him his coffee and Paige handed him his unlit cigar. “Thank you dears…you are too good to me.”

  As we walked back around the counter I asked Paige, “Now don’t you feel bad about the ashtray comment?”

  Paige sighed. “Yeeesss…I love the old coot, but that cigar reeks.”

  I walked up to Brandon and gave him a peck hello. “Are you on a break?”

  “Yep, thought I’d come in for a small dip of butter pecan to help fuel my energy for the rest of the afternoon.”

  Brandon took a seat at one of the stools in front of the counter while I dipped out his ice cream into a sugar cone. As I handed it to him, Stormi came in from the back of the store.

  “Did you know about Howie harassing Papaw Jeb about his money?”

  Brandon took a lick of his butter pecan. “Hello to you too sister.”

  “Cut the crap…did you?”

  “Boy, you women are in a mood today.”

  We all three stood staring at him. I secretly chuckled inside as I watched him wilt. Even the ice cream was melting hurriedly down his cone from the heat emanating from the other two women.

  “I did not know until Tara told me last night on the phone, although Momma probably mentioned it,” Brandon said as he took another lick.

  “How could he do that?” Stormi was not happy. I believed the fact that we couldn’t locate Howie’s body was causing her to unravel. “This is just crazy…first he’s hurt, then he’s dead, and now we can’t find him or Luella!”

  “Supposedly his body is at the funeral home,” Paige said. “The funeral home where nobody answers the phone, but still we can assume he is there. Now Luella is another story.”

  At that moment, Sammi and her friends walked into the shoppe to take over for the rest of the day as we headed to the funeral home more than an hour away. Brandon walked over to keep Charlie company and we headed out. Of course, we had no idea that we would find more than we were searching for.

  Chapter Nine

  The funeral home in Marshall was small. Heck the town was small. I was surprised they even had a funeral home. The town had a small grocery, a tiny hardware store, and a funeral home. They didn’t even have a restaurant…, which might be a good thing.

  The funeral home appeared to once have been someone’s home. A long concrete porch covered the front and one side of the building. A sign out front said Johnson Funeral Home. So this had to be the place.

  Paige
grasped the knob to the front door and found it locked. “To say I’m surprised would be a lie.”

  “Guess we know why no one answered the phone,” I said.

  “This is nuts,” Stormi exclaimed. “Where the heck is my cousin’s body? The fur’s going to fly when I get to the bottom of this mess.”

  “Hello ladies,” a small voice behind us said.

  We spun around to see a little old man wearing brown slacks, a white shirt, and carrying a cane. “I live right next door. Are you looking for someone?”

  “Yes,” Paige answered. “We’re looking for the owners of this funeral home. We need to talk to them.”