“Do you know what happened with his aunt? Why they don’t talk anymore?”
“Nothing like that if that’s what you mean. At least not that I know of. Myrtle was always madder than a wet hen about something. When the boy lost his family, he come to her for help, and she shut him out. Slammed the door right in his face. Told him the bank of Redbecker don’t help those that don’t help themselves and wrote him right out of the family will. Didn’t take much to make an enemy out of that old woman, that’s for sure.”
“Do you think there’s really money on that property?”
He shook his head. “I think good ol’ Boone Pickett is rolling over in his grave having a good old laugh right now. Way I heard it, the man was as cheap as the day is long. If he hid money, he hid it so good ain’t nobody gonna be able to find it.”
“So, what happens if you don’t get your bond money back?”
“I won’t get it back, but I knew that when I paid it.”
“Why don’t you get it back?”
“I couldn’t afford to pay the whole amount, so I had to get one of those bail bondsmen to get a surety bond. They paid that, and I paid them a fee for it. Jesse had to promise to appear in court. If he don’t then I got to come up with the rest of his bail and pay the bondsmen.”
“Jesse will be there.”
“I know.” He tilted his head toward me. “You think he killed his aunt, don’t you?”
“I wanted to think otherwise, but I can’t get there.”
He slowly nodded. “Kind of feeling that way, too. Shame. Watching a boy’s life take that kind of turn.”
I stood. “Yes, it is.” I threw my empty water bottle in the trash. I didn’t even realize I’d finished it off. “Thank you for filling me in on everything.”
“Anytime, Lilybit. It’s always a pleasure to chat with one of our home grown. You ever need your lawnmower or something fixed, come on down. I’ll give you a discount.”
“Thank you, Mr. Goodson.”
* * *
I headed over to the office supply store in the next town over to print out the email and scanned maps from the Georgia Historical Society. I wanted six copies; one for myself, one for the attorney, the winning property bidder, Sonny Waddell, the county assessor’s office and one to file with the state, if necessary. I needed them printed there so they could be notarized by the person that printed them. I wanted to make sure they were shown as direct from the Georgia Historical Society in the event that anyone tried to dispute their accuracy. Based on their information, over forty acres of land actually belonged to Sonny Waddell, not Myrtle Redbecker, and that changed not only the value of the land, but the plot lines, tax records, possibly even previous tax bills and a host of other things I wasn’t even aware of.
Even though the sale of the property was already on hold, the information would just postpone it further. I all but kissed that forty-two thousand dollar commission–less business expenses, taxes and of course the split with my partner that I wasn’t talking to at that moment—goodbye.
It never was the big clients that kept my business running. It was the little ones, and luckily, I had enough of those to keep my retirement fund growing.
The copies would take over an hour because of the six people waiting ahead of me, so I killed time and found myself at the animal shelter where the dog I had no intention of adopting resided.
The howling and barking immediately tugged at my heartstrings the moment I opened the shelter doors.
“I’m here to see the beige Boxer mix.”
“Can you repeat that?” The woman behind the glass window asked. “It’s hard to hear over the whining.”
I got that. It was loud. “The beige Boxer mix. I’d like to see him.”
“You mean Sparky? He was adopted this morning.”
My heart fell to the ground and shattered into pieces. “But I just saw his video.”
“We don’t always have the chance to take them down right away. Listen, we’re short staffed. It happens. Cut us some slack, okay?”
“I can’t believe it.”
“You wanna see another dog?”
“I was hoping to see him.”
She slid the window shut.
I picked up the pieces of my broken heart and walked out. In my car I replayed the videos of the cute beige puppy that would never be mine, the one I said I didn’t have time for, but suddenly wanted more than anything, and I sobbed.
I hoped whoever adopted little Sparky would love him as much as I’d realized I already did, and I hoped he loved them back as much as I wanted him to love me. Okay, maybe not that much, but close.
I gathered my composure, realizing his adoption was a sign and a good thing. I was not meant to have a puppy. My life wasn’t right for a dog. If only I’d get a sign about Dylan, too.
* * *
I asked Dylan to meet me at Sonny Waddell’s house. I explained what I’d learned from the Georgia Historical Society and said I wanted to give Sonny the good news, but I didn’t feel comfortable going over there alone. He may not have been the one that killed Myrtle Redbecker, but he still got aggressive and threatening, and I had no intention of putting myself in harm’s way.
As I pulled past Odell Luna’s house, I noticed Jesse’s car on the side of the road between Odell’s and Myrtle’s. I slowed to see if Jesse was outside, and saw Sonny storming out of Myrtle’s front door with a shovel in his hand, the door slamming behind him. Hoping Sonny hadn’t noticed me, I pulled to a stop and watched him lean the shovel against Myrtle’s window and hurry back to his house.
How did he get inside? Was Jesse in there? If so, how did he get inside? If the house was damaged again, I’d pitch a fit the size of Texas. I called Dylan. “Hey, Jesse’s at Myrtle’s, and Sonny just came charging out of there. I don’t feel good about this.”
“Stay put. I’m on my way.”
“I think I should check on the house. Jesse’s probably in there destroying it.”
“Lily, do not go inside. You hear me?”
I exhaled. “Yes, sir.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise. Geez.” I pulled into Myrtle’s long driveway and shut off my engine. I didn’t want to break my promise, so instead, I go out of the car and snuck around back to peek inside the kitchen. I just wanted to see if I could see if Jesse had added any additional home demolition to the place.
Only from the looks of him, Jesse Pickett’s days of home destruction were over. He lay on the kitchen floor with the back of his head smashed in just like his aunt had a few days before.
Chapter 6
After the coroner took Jesse’s body, and a deputy arrested Sonny, I waited near my car for Dylan to tell me I could leave. He came out and handed me a bottled water. “Is this your thing now?”
“What do you mean?” I held my hands together to keep Dylan from noticing how much they shook.
“Finding dead bodies. Is it your thing?”
I swallowed hard. “I, uh…I don’t think so. I mean, I sell real estate. I don’t intentionally find dead bodies.”
He removed his hat and leaned back against my car next to me. “That was a bad attempt at a joke. I apologize.” He nudged his shoulder into mine, and I fought hard not to lean my head into him when I so desperately wanted to.
“It’s okay.”
“Sometimes in my line of work it makes it easier to crack jokes.”
“Realtor jokes are a little less inappropriate.”
“Tell me one.”
“No. They’re horrible.”
“No, really. Tell me one.”
“They’re really bad, trust me.”
“Come on. Just one. I promise I’ll laugh.”
“You always laughed at my jokes.”
He turned toward me and smiled. “And I always will, Little Bean.”
Don’t cry, Lily. Do not cry. “Okay. A realtor has two property listings. Now add ten more. What does the realtor have?”
“Twelve lis
tings?”
“No. Happiness. The realtor now has happiness.”
He gave me a blank stare and then finally laughed.
I laughed, too. “I told you, they’re horrible.”
“Yeah, you were right.”
“So, what happens now?” I asked.
“Sonny claims he didn’t kill Jesse. Said he saw his car here, came by to tell him to leave, and found him dead. Was leaving to call us when you saw him.”
“What about the shovel? He had it with him when he left.”
“He claims it was lying next to Jesse, and he really doesn’t have an explanation for taking it, but when he realized he did, he left it propped up against the front of the house where you saw him put it.”
“I really don’t think things can get any worse.”
“I’m just glad you didn’t get here sooner. I don’t know what I’d have done if you’d have been killed, too.” He dropped his head back and it would have rested on the top of my car if he wasn’t so tall.
I found myself wanting to comfort him. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” Though you pretty much did a few years ago, I thought.
“I learned that a long time ago. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”
What? “Funny, that whole falling off the face of the earth thing you did said otherwise.”
“I know, and I’m sorry about that.” His shoulder touched mine.
I pushed myself off my car. “I’m not doing this. Not now. Probably not ever.” I scurried around to the other side, hit the unlock button on my electronic key and climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Lily, wait. Let me explain.”
“Explain? Seriously? You had years to explain, but the statute of limitations on that has expired now.” I shut the door.
“Come on, Lily. I came back here because of you, because of us.”
“See, that’s the thing Dylan. There isn’t any us. You ruined that years ago.” I started the ignition, kicked my car into reverse and left.
* * *
The office smelled like a floral shop exploded inside it and then someone cleaned up the explosion with lemon cleaner. When Belle needed to distract herself, she cleaned. A lot. The smells from the cleaning products and the dozen or so air fresheners she plugged into the unused outlets fought each other to take over my nose. My eyes watered within seconds of entering. I left the door opened to air out the fresh scent.
“Close that thing. You’re letting all the good air out.”
“If I don’t let the good air out, my lungs will shrivel up and die. How many of those air fresheners did you plug in this time?”
She shrugged. “Under ten.”
“I doubt that.” I searched the electrical outlets and pulled out five hoping that would provide some relief. “What’s got your gander up?”
Belle spun her office chair in a circle. “I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that Jesse Pickett is dead or that you just possibly ruined your chance at reuniting with the only man you’ve ever loved.”
Oh boy. She went on a cleaning rampage because of me? Nope. I wasn’t going to take the blame for that. Besides, I’d just found my second dead body of the week, and frankly, I was exhausted. “Thanks for making me feel better. I appreciate it.”
She threw her hands up into the air. “Well, come on already. When are you going to cut that poor guy some slack?”
“First of all, I just found Jesse Pickett dead. We shouldn’t even be having this discussion. Seriously. We should be respectful of the dead right now.”
“You’re right.” She stuck out her bottom lip. “I am sorry. God rest his soul. May he find peace in heaven.” She bowed her head. “And forgiveness if he did kill his aunt even though she was kind of a cranky old bat.”
I didn’t want to laugh, but it was hard not to.
“Is that better?” She smiled. “Now, can we get back to what you did?”
I pointed my right forefinger at her. “Oh, no uyou don’t. Remember Jimmy what’s-his-face from seventh grade?”
She tilted her chin up, and her nostrils flared. “You just wait a minute, missy. Don’t you say his name out loud.”
I raised my eyebrows and smirked. “Em hmm. That’s who I’m talking about.”
She straightened in her seat. “That’s entirely different.”
I laughed. “Exactly. You were in seventh grade and you still can’t stand him for breaking your heart. I was nineteen, and Dylan and I dated for most of high school and part of college, and you think I should just forgive him and take him back. It absolutely is entirely different, just not the way you think it is.”
“The boy whose name we shall not mention was my first love. Those are intense.”
“As if I have no experience with that feeling.”
She let out a long sigh and mumbled. “Fine, I’ll forgive the boy whose name shall not be mentioned if you’ll forgive Dylan.”
“Jimmy moved away in eighth grade. There’s no way to forgive him, so it’s not relevant.”
“Forgiveness comes from within.” She patted her chest. “From here.”
“Oh bless.” I flipped open my laptop. “Tell you what, I’ll search social media and see if I can find him. That way you can actually tell him you forgive him. What’s his name again?”
She burst from her chair and slammed my laptop shut. “Don’t you dare do that.”
I smiled. “Point made.” If I’d had a mirror on hand, I was pretty sure I’d see a glimmer or sparkle in my eye.
“Fine.”
“Fine. Can we move on now, please?”
“Whatever.” She marched back to her chair as if she’d actually won that argument.
“I’m going to see Sonny Waddell in a bit.”
“Why?”
“Because I think he should know the land is rightfully his.”
“Do you think it’s going to matter now anyway? He’s probably going to jail for the rest of his life.”
“He’s got kids. It’ll probably matter to them.”
“They’ll probably just sell the land. I don’t think they’ve been back in years.”
“Then it’ll matter to us.”
“Good point,” she said.
“I’m making a lot of those today, aren’t I?”
She shot me a death stare, and I laughed. “When is his bail hearing?”
“I don’t know, and I doubt Dylan will let me know either.” I tossed a piece of paper onto the ground just to see if she’d pitch a fit.
“No comment.”
“Probably best.”
“Do you want me to send the information to the attorney and bidders?”
“I’ve got copies waiting for me at the office supply store, and I’ve already forwarded them the email, but I could use your help with that decluttering thing we’re doing next month.”
“Sure. What do you need?”
I forwarded her the class syllabus and the information I’d put together and gave her a few ideas of how I saw the class going. “Would you be able to get an email to our subscribers out? See if we can get anyone to sign up for it?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
“I think doing a few of these kinds of things a year are great marketing opportunities for us, especially now that all these data hubs are moving further north of the city. I thought maybe we could put together a community yard sale or something, too. We could hold it at the high school and get them to help run it through the DECA program.”
“Oh, I love that idea. I’ll contact the school and see what I can do to set something up.”
“Perfect. Have I told you how incredible you are lately?”
“You just did.”
I gathered my things. “Okay, I’m out of here. Heading back to the office supply store and then to see Sonny Waddell.”
“And very likely run into Dylan.”
“Let’s hope I don’t.”
“Let’s hope you do,” she whispered.
; “I heard that,” I said as I walked toward the door.
“I wanted you to, and by the way, don’t think I don’t know why you threw that paper on the ground. Now pick it up.”
I marched back over to it and laughed as I threw it in the trash.
“Thank you.”
* * *
Sonny wasn’t all that happy to see me, but that didn’t surprise me at all.
“What do you want?”
I dropped the papers from the office supply store on the table in front of me. The glass divider rested on the table so he could see what they were. “A few days ago I contacted the Georgia Historical Society about the original property lines for your land.”
He didn’t change the blank expression on his face, but he glanced down at the papers and back at me.
“You were right, at least for the most part. Someone changed the plot lines in the Pickett’s favor.” I pressed the legal-sized paper against the window. “But the Waddell’s actually own more of the land than you thought. About another ten feet across and all the way to the end of the property.” I yanked the paper away, leaned back in my seat and folded my hands across my chest. “Looks like you killed Jesse Pickett for nothing.”
“I didn’t kill that boy.”
“I saw you leaving there, and I saw the shovel in your hand.”
“I didn’t kill that boy.”
“You threatened him and you threatened me. How am I supposed to believe you?”
“Because I ain’t no liar.”
Says every killer on TV, I thought. “That’s not good enough for me.”
“Why would I kill him? That land don’t belong to him anyway. Even you told me that. He just gets me all ticked off, and I shoot off at the mouth, that’s all, but I didn’t kill him.”
He did have a point. He did know Jesse wasn’t getting the land. His issue wasn’t that as much as the land going to a builder. “If you didn’t kill him, why did I see you leaving and why did I see you put that shovel against the house, and why did Dylan arrest you?”
He dragged his hand down his gray beard and tugged on its end. “’Cause I’m an idiot, that’s why.”
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