by Dixie Davis
Lori and Doug had been among the last to leave the festival and they’d walked home and encountered the murder scene, so it’d taken them a while to get there. Annie had to have left them before nine. Didn’t she?
Lori stirred the eggs a little faster. Had she given a false alibi for Annie or Doug? She hadn’t meant to. She hadn’t checked her watch, though, so she couldn’t be sure what time each of them left and returned.
Footsteps ventured into the kitchen. “I’m coming!” Lori called. It was the politest way she’d found to say, Stay out of here.
“Morning, Mom,” came the reply.
“Oh, hi, sweetie.” Lori checked her pan of eggs one more time. They were done. She scraped them into a chafing dish and handed it to Doug. “How’s Annie?” she asked.
He shrugged one shoulder. “Handling it in her own way.”
Lori grabbed a bowl of ice and yogurt cups and nodded, both in understanding and to signal Doug to follow her. “Then you’ve talked to her this morning?”
“Yeah, we were up early, went for a walk. We ended up going by the crime scene, my fault. So that was hard.”
Lori cringed, but schooled her features to a more guest-friendly expression as soon as she reached the dining room. She set out the bowl and grabbed the empty egg dish so Doug could replace it with his full one. She wanted to circulate and talk to guests for a few minutes, but Doug needed her attention first.
“Where is she now?”
“She went back to bed. Needed more rest.”
“I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”
Doug laughed a little. “Apparently that’s what you do. That’s actually a lot of what we talked about. If you’re as good as Val says —”
Lori smirked. Val was exaggerating. Or at least, she made Lori sound better than she actually felt.
“ — then Annie wants your help. She feels like the police are going to look most closely at her, since she isn’t local these days.”
Lori nodded. That had certainly worked against her when she was accused of murder. Though Doug didn’t know much about that, if anything.
“Of course I want to help her,” Lori said. “I’ll do my best to find out who did this so she won’t get in any more trouble.”
Lori knew all too well what would happen if the police decided to arrest Annie. She tried not to remember how awful and degrading just two days in jail had been, physically shaking her head to shake off the memory. She patted Doug’s arm and gestured for him to join in the breakfast, if he could find an empty chair. Lori began circulating through the tables, checking in with her guests, seeing who’d had the best seats for the show last night — and who might have seen or heard anything about a car accident after the festival.
Nobody mentioned anything or seemed to know what Lori was talking about if she brought it up. But the Greenes did say that they were definitely at the festival until nine, and they’d left a little early.
Lori only had to make two more trips to the kitchen for coffee cake and milk before the guests began filtering out of the dining room, off to enjoy the beach or the Bald Head Island lighthouse, Old Baldy — people in the Bald Head Suite usually seemed to add a visit to their itinerary, Lori mused.
Finally, only Lori and Doug remained. He helped her bus the tables and brought the dirty dishes to the kitchen — he even started washing them without being asked.
Apparently she’d done something right along the way if her grown son did dishes without being asked.
“Is Annie going to eat?” Lori asked.
“I’ll take her a yogurt and a bagel or something.”
Lori set aside the bagel basket and the yogurt bowl for him and started packing up the leftovers — except there really wasn’t anything left except a slice of coffee cake and a scoop of eggs. Making the perfect amount always carried an extra sense of satisfaction.
“What are you going to do today?” Doug asked.
Seemed like Lori should be the one asking him that. “I’m meeting with Trey for lunch and a chat at the Salty Dog.”
Doug nodded. “Good. Working the case. You’re a regular pro.”
“How about you?”
“I thought I’d take Annie out to Bald Head Island, too. Think it’ll be too crowded?”
“Maybe. Everything out this way is crowded this week.” People who only came for Night Lights must have been mystified as to how Dusky Cove could be such a small town with this many people everywhere.
Doug finished washing his load of dishes and set the last one on the drying rack. “Okay if I go take Annie her breakfast now?”
“Of course.” Lori sent him off and moved the dishes to the dishwasher. She filled the detergent well and turned on the cycle, then dried the water off the last two yogurt cups and put them in the fridge again. As soon as she finished rinsing and drying the ice bowl, Lori’s phone beeped in her pocket with a text message.
It was from Trey. Change of plans: a couple people are holding a morning memorial for Nate in half an hour. Can I come then?
He didn’t want to attend the memorial for his old friend?
That seemed suspicious — but if Trey wanted to talk, she’d accept his timing.
Now the question was whether that timing worked for her. Doug strolled in again, rolling his eyes. “Don’t tell me you still have that same old phone?”
Lori shielded the screen from him, although he wasn’t trying to peek. “My phone is just fine, thank you.”
“Okay, we’re heading out.”
She nodded and followed him out to the parlor. Annie hopped up from the couch as soon as they entered, and Doug took her hand. “Bye, Mom!” Doug called.
“Be good!” Lori said back, more habit than any real worry.
Doug and Annie waved goodbye and stepped outside. Lori didn’t even have time to check if the parlor trash can was full before the door swung open again. Doug stepped back in. “Found some ‘old friends’ outside.”
Trey was here already? Annie’s lips were mashed into a grim line, probably bracing herself to spend time with the rest of her high school crew again. Lori hoped she could still get Annie out of here so she could talk to Trey in private.
But it wasn’t Trey or Brett or Serena — nearly three hours late for work — who walked in after Doug: it was Chief Branson. “Hi, Miss Allbright. I was wondering if we might have a word?”
Annie glanced back at Lori. Lori nodded, urging her to agree. Annie finally did, settling in the middle of the couch, while Doug and Lori took the spots on either side of her. Lori felt like she was protecting her from an assault.
Probably because she’d been in this position — and Annie’s — before. Too many times.
Eddie remained standing, but the chief settled into an armchair. “Miss Allbright, we just wanted to go over your timeline from last night in a little more detail. When we saw Mrs. Keyes and her son at the crime scene, we didn’t see you there with them.”
Annie glanced at Doug and Lori, but Lori knew it would be better for Annie to let her answer. “I left a few minutes early,” Annie admitted.
“And why was that?”
Lori tried very hard not to stare at Annie as she waited for the answer that at least Lori didn’t know.
“I had to run to Roses.”
“What for?”
“Um.” Annie’s cheeks tinged with pink and she fiddled with the couch cushion. “Feminine . . . hygiene products?”
Chief Branson grimaced, and guilt tugged at Lori’s heart. She’d actually been wondering about Annie’s alibi when all she’d done was hurry over to the store before they closed.
“So we’ll find you on security footage at Roses?” Chief Branson finally recovered enough to ask.
“I think so. Do you want to see my receipt?”
“Sure.”
Annie hurried downstairs.
“Chief,” Lori started, “I really don’t want to come in the middle of another case —”
“Then don’t.”
Lori pursed her lips. “I want justice for Nate, too. But there have to be other, better leads.”
“Such as . . . ?”
She frowned. If she could get these people out of her inn, she could set about figuring that out. Her phone buzzed in her pocket — she hadn’t texted Trey back. Was that him? Was he here? She didn’t want the Chief to know she was investigating. “I don’t have anyone specific in mind. I just want to make sure you stay open to other suspects, and you’re not just interpreting the evidence the way you want it to point.”
One of Chief Branson’s eyebrows crept higher. Lori fought the urge to take back what she’d said. Even if she tried to now, it wasn’t going to undo the damage.
“Thanks, Mrs. Keyes. If I ever have any feedback on how you run your hotel, I’ll let you know.”
The absolute worst thing she could do right now would be to correct him — it was an inn or a bed and breakfast, not a hotel — so Lori had to almost literally bite her tongue to maintain a somewhat civil relationship with the chief of police.
Annie’s footsteps carried from behind them and she held out a strip of paper. “Receipt,” she said.
Chief Branson took it and read it, then handed it back. “Appreciate it, thank you.”
“Of course.”
Would Chief Branson be upset with Lori if her receipt contradicted the alibi she gave Annie yesterday? He didn’t seem to be, so Lori counted that a point in their favor. For all she knew, Chief Branson was just being thorough, and Annie wasn’t a suspect at all.
“I won’t keep you any longer,” Chief Branson said, standing. “I’m sure you want to get down to the community center for the memorial.”
“Is this his actual funeral?”
Chief Branson shook his head. “Just an informal thing by people in town. Somehow, even after everything that happened last year, this still shakes us hard. Probably because this time it’s one of our own.”
Lori had to admit it did feel different when the person who’d died wasn’t a visitor or a guest but part of their own county family.
Even if Lori and Doug hadn’t exactly liked him. Lori glanced at Doug quickly. She’d never believe him capable of running another man down, but could he have threatened Nate? That seemed within the realm of possibility.
Lori walked Chief Branson out then turned back to Annie and Doug. Annie stood and crossed the room to Lori.
“This all just hit me when we were here talking last night. I know Doug has already talked to you,” she said, “but I just wanted to make sure I asked you myself.” She met Lori’s gaze, her green eyes shining with sincerity. “I need to know what happened to my friend, and if that’s something you can help with —”
“Of course.”
Annie’s shoulders dropped in relief, and in that moment, Lori thought of Jonah, her stylist who’d been falsely accused. She’d spared her stylist the horrors of a prison sentence. She hoped she could do the same for her future daughter-in-law.
“Oh, Annie, I heard some people are holding a morning memorial for Nate. I’m sure you want to be there.”
Annie nodded slowly. “I don’t know how to handle this.”
Lori placed a hand on her arm. “Nobody does. Whatever you’re feeling is okay — there’s no wrong way to grieve.”
“Thank you. I don’t even know what I’m feeling.”
“Do you want to go to the memorial?” Doug murmured to Annie. “I think it’d probably be a good idea.”
Annie glanced at him. “I don’t look —?”
“No, no, I just — I know this is hard on you, and I feel like this is a good way to move forward. Start saying goodbye to him.”
It was hardest to lose someone suddenly, no time to prepare or even just brace yourself. Annie seemed to shrink an inch, but finally nodded. “You’re right. It would feel better if I had someone to talk to. Or just . . . remember him with.”
Lori gave her an encouraging smile. Definitely a step in the right direction. “The community center is the building with a steep red roof, over there.” Lori pointed in the direction. “Definitely close enough to walk.”
“Thanks,” Annie said. Doug took her hand and reached for the doorknob with the other.
“Have . . . a good time, I guess,” Lori bid them. Annie and Doug waved, as if they were both saying, yeah, we understand what you’re trying to say.
As soon as the door shut behind them, Lori grabbed her phone again. Trey had texted again, a simple ?
She finally tapped out a reply to Trey: Now is good if you’re still available. I’ll still feed you.
Lori tried not to pace as she waited for his response. What would she make? There wasn’t enough leftover from breakfast to offer him, and she’d only snacked throughout breakfast. Surely food would sweeten the deal. What could she make? Something fast, easy and tasty.
Grits. Lori texted him again to sweeten the deal she was offering. Do you like your grits cheesy or plain?
The reply came almost immediately: Go cheesy or go home. I’ll be there in thirty.
Lori silently celebrated and hurried back to the kitchen. She had an interview to prepare for.
Cheese grits didn’t take thirty minutes, but the sooner Lori started, the sooner she could think through what she needed to ask Trey about. She put a pot of salted water and milk on to boil and pulled out the sack of coarse cornmeal.
Trying not to watch the pot, Lori gathered up the cheese and butter she’d use to finish the grits. She certainly hoped this would be enough to get Trey talking.
What was the most important thing she needed to know? Lori realized she should have interviewed Annie a little more about Nate, at least as background information.
On the other hand, Annie was clearly uncomfortable with the guy. And despite whatever might have caused that, she still wanted justice for him. So Lori would get that.
What else had she gathered about Nate? He’d said something to Annie about the past. Clearly they all had a history in this group. Small wonder they hadn’t stayed friends — the bigger question was how they’d managed to get through high school together in one piece.
The lid of the pot rattled and Lori took it off: the water was boiling. She stirred in the dry grits. Once she’d beaten out the lumps, Lori lowered the temperature on the burner. If she burned these, she’d severely hurt her chances of getting information out of Trey.
Unless he wasn’t going to talk anyway. What if Trey stonewalled her? What if he was the killer?
Why would he agree to talk to her and then show up and not talk? Besides, he seemed pretty at ease last night. But the police were probably right that Nate must have known his murderer if he’d handed his keys over.
She needed to know more about Nate, whether he had any enemies, if anyone else might have done it. Was Trey even in contact with the guy anymore? For all Lori knew, the two men might not have been friends in years.
She’d soon find out. Lori whisked the grits once more, then headed off to find the right plate. With most of the guest dishes in the dishwasher right now, she didn’t have many options. She dug up some smaller white ceramic serving bowls and took them over to the counter. Once the grits were done, Lori stirred in the butter and cheeses until they were all melted and mixed in, then spooned the grits into the two bowls.
Finally, the doorbell rang. Lori grated a little extra cheese over the top of the other bowl before she hurried to answer.
Trey stood on her front porch, looking even paler in the sunlight than he had the night before. For a split second, from his red Converse All Stars to his freckles to his tousled hair even to his beat-up, twenty-year-old sedan parked at the foot of her steps, he looked the part of a teenager here to hang out with one of her sons. He smiled at Lori. “Morning, Mrs. Keyes.”
“Good morning, Trey. Come on in — I’ve got your grits ready.” Lori let him in and closed the door behind him. And, she realized, she should subtly let him know that they weren’t alone. “Try to keep it down a
little; some of my guests are spending the morning in.”
Trey glanced at the cream-colored ceiling, like he’d be able to see them from here. “Sure thing, Mrs. K.”
Lori smiled a little at that. One of Doug’s friends had always called her that. But Trey was an adult, and formalities seemed a little weird from him. “Call me Lori, please.”
“Okay.”
She led him into the dining room, then ducked into the kitchen to grab their bowls of grits. She placed the bowl in front of Trey at the table and sat down to join him.
“So,” Lori began. “You and Nate were friends back in high school?”
“We all were — Annie, Brett, Serena, Nate. We were the fearsome fivesome.” Trey grinned and took a bite of the grits. He stopped short to relish the flavor. Lori snuck a quick bite — the sharp cheddar against the creamy grits made the perfect mouthful.
“Did you call yourselves that, ‘the fearsome fivesome’?”
Trey laughed. “Not at the time. Just how I remember it. Seemed like a lot of other people were jealous or maybe just annoyed by us.”
“You were popular, then?”
“I guess so.”
Lori nodded slowly. She hadn’t expected to force a confession right away, but this line of questioning wasn’t yielding enough answers for her. How was any of this relevant to a murder that happened last night?
Trey swallowed another bite of grits. “You want to solve this murder like those others?”
Lori nodded. “Trying to, anyway.”
“Then what does high school have to do with it? I haven’t talked to any of these guys in years.”
“I don’t know where to start looking, but I do know there’s something going on with your fearsome fivesome still.”
Trey frowned, stirring his grits a moment. “It wasn’t like that. We weren’t bad or super destructive or anything. We just liked to party. We weren’t hurting anybody.”
“Someone got hurt.”
Trey’s head snapped up, his brown eyes round and wary. “You mean Nate?”
