He leaned back in his chair. “This is an active investigation, and I’m not at liberty to share the details, but sure, you can give it a shot. I’ll answer what I can.”
Great. He wanted to play it like that. “There wasn’t any blood at the scene. How was Savannah killed?”
“We’ve got a rush on the autopsy report, but the unofficial cause of death is asphyxiation from strangulation.”
I cringed. What a horrible way to die. “Oh.”
“We noted signs of petechiae on her neck, which was our first indication of strangulation. The coroner agrees, but we have to wait for the official report to confirm.”
“What is petechiae?”
“They’re like small bruises on the skin. Broken blood vessels really. In cases like this, they’re typically seen on the neck and are caused from the pressure of the choke hold.”
“So, the person that killed her did it with his bare hands?”
“Or hers.”
“You think it was a woman?”
“I’m not saying it was a woman or a man.”
“Do you have any suspects?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Seriously?”
“I don’t want you involved in this Lily.”
“You don’t really get a say in what I’m involved in.”
“In this case, I do. I’m the sheriff.”
Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten that little detail. I straightened in my seat. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sure you’re considering the same people I am.”
That piqued his interest. “And who would that be?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
The side of his mouth twitched, but I forced myself to look away because I wasn’t going to let it get to me. No way. Not again. I hoped.
“Fair enough, but I mean it, stay out of my investigation, Lily.”
I stood. “Yes, Sheriff Roberts.” I headed toward the door.
He followed behind me and grabbed my arm. “Lily, wait.”
I turned around, jerked my arm away and glared at him.
“Can we talk later? Please?”
“I’m sorry, Dylan. Not yet.” I opened the door and forced myself to walk out of the building with my head held high.
* * *
I didn’t cry the whole drive to class. When I got there, Ellie Jean greeted me with another big hug. I didn’t recall her being so sweet in high school, but her attention and affection was exactly what I needed.
“Sweetie, you look like something the cat drug in. You sure you’re up for this today? Maybe you should cancel? I can tell the ladies it’s off for the day and send them home.”
“No, it’s okay, but thank you. I need to do this. I’ll be fine once I have some coffee and a bit of food.” That’s when I realized I’d forgotten to pick up the food at Millie’s. “Well shoot. I forgot the order at Millie’s.” I set my bag and box down. “I need to run over there. Would you mind putting my stuff in the conference room? I don’t want to leave it here in the way.”
She picked up my things. “It’s not a bother at all. You go on now and get yourself something, and don’t worry a bit about this. I’ll get the room set up.” She peeked in the box. “I might could put these out for the ladies if you’d like?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “That would be wonderful, Ellie Jean, thank you so much.” I hugged her one more time and made a quick run to Millie’s.
Millie’s line hit the end of the block. I settled in behind a group of three older men, regulars who showed up every morning for coffee and biscuits. They nodded their hello and went back to their discussion.
The man with the long white beard that reminded me of Santa Claus, spoke first. “Sheriff needs to get a handle on the crime in this town. You ask me, bringin’ him on wasn’t smart. Murder rates gone up ever since he came on. Maybe he’s got something to do with it?”
I bit my tongue.
“Don’t think so. I know his pa. He ain’t the kind of boy that kills just to look good. ‘Sides, Myrtle Redbecker? Her murder, that wasn’t him. That was one twisted tale right there.”
I angled myself toward the street. My face was plastered all over town. If they actually paid attention, they’d have to know I was Myrtle’s realtor, and I was involved in the whole situation from the start, and I preferred to remain anonymous at that moment.
The larger man wearing faded tan overalls, said, “Word is the dead girl had a bit of a reputation, if you know what I mean. I’m not saying she got what was coming to her, but you play with fire, you gone get burned. You hear what I’m sayin’?”
The men nodded, and Santa Claus’s twin spoke again. “If I were the sheriff, I’d have a talk with the husband. You got a lady cheatin’ like that, you’re gonna have one ticked off husband, and there ain’t no telling what a man can do when he finds out his wife ain’t been faithful.”
I loved living in a small community, but I hated how stories were twisted. I realized it happened everywhere, but in a small place like Bramblett County, where everyone pretty much knew everyone, the damage had a greater impact. Savannah might have cheated on Austin, I didn’t think so, but I didn’t know, but according to her, that wasn’t the cause for her decision to divorce him, and rumors like that did nothing but make the situation worse.
I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I flipped around and poked my finger into fake Santa Claus’s chest. “Actually, that’s not what happened, and you should be ashamed of yourself for spreading rumors and speaking ill of the dead.”
The men stepped back, so I stepped forward. “Savannah Emmerson was my friend, and I was with her shortly before she died. She was not the one cheating on her husband. You might could do yourself some good by keeping your mouth shut. Shame on you. At your age, a man like you should know better.”
Millie came outside and took orders and the man in overalls hollered to her. “Hey Millie, we’re gone take a seat over yonder.” He pointed to the empty table near the edge of the windows connected to the store next to the café. “Away from this little spitfire right here.” He wrapped his arm around me and whispered. “You done good honey, your momma would be proud,” and then he hollered back to Millie, “You get to us when you can, you hear?”
She waved them off, and they headed to their seats. Millie caught my eye and winked. “Hey honey, I’ve got your stuff on the counter waiting for you. Go on in and grab it. You can pay me later.”
I smiled, proud of myself for standing up for my friend and setting the record as straight as I could, knowing as much as I did. I walked past Millie, said, “Thank you,” grabbed my bag and headed back to the library.
I considered the potential suspects on my brief walk back to the library. Austin, of course, was my number one suspect because like Santa Claus said, the spouse is always considered a suspect, and in real life, not on the TV shows, more times than not they’re the ones that committed the crimes. Plus, Dylan said the neighbor saw someone in a red jacket outside of Savannah’s house the night before we found her, and Austin had a red hoodie. Yes, Heather did also, and it was found inside the Armstrong’s house, and I couldn’t let that go.
I slowed my gait to give myself more time to think. I doubted the ladies would care if we started right on time, anyway.
Savannah did have a reputation, and her arrival back in town shocked both Caroline and Heather. Though we’d all been close growing up and in college, except Savannah after the Austin incident, of course, we all went our separate ways once we graduated. Belle and I obviously stayed best friends, our bond growing closer with the launch of our real estate business, and Caroline and Heather, from what I understood, had stayed best friends, too, but seeing Heather with William, and William taking off, and then Belle saying she saw them together also, well, that added a layer to things that made me wonder if Caroline and Heather’s friendship wasn’t in some kind of turmoil, and if Heather was capable of things I couldn’t imagine.
Caroline and William mar
ried, and they’d taken over William’s parent’s corn maze and pumpkin patch. They’d established themselves in the community, whereas Heather never quite recouped from her break up with Austin. She’d expected to be Mrs. Austin Emmerson and spend her days living the good life, playing tennis and painting her time away somewhere other than Bramblett County. That hadn’t happened. Instead, she still lived with her parents and worked at her store while trying to pan her paintings off to local small businesses. She hadn’t dated in years, though I really couldn’t judge her for that, or for any of it, for that matter.
It surprised me to see Caroline react to Savannah the way she had and to hear she’d pitched a fit at Millie’s, and even alluding to killing her if she came near William was over the top. Heather’s disdain was at least partly justifiable, even if it was time to move on, but Caroline never had any proof of a relationship between William and Savannah, so, like I told Dylan, I struggled with thinking she’d actually kill Savannah over it, though I couldn’t come to terms with why she was still so upset. She claimed her emotions were on overdrive, but that in and of itself was a bit unbelievable.
The only thing that stuck with me was what my momma always said. “There was always a little truth to a rumor”. I wondered if Caroline knew something she didn’t want anyone else to know? I kept Caroline on my mental list of suspects for that reason. A person didn’t react the way she had without justification, or at least a belief of justification, and until I found out otherwise, she would stay on my list.
The three suspects on my list were all people I’d once been close to, and I just didn’t want to think any of them capable of killing Savannah Emmerson.
I made it back to the library and saw Heather chatting with Ellie Jean, or Heather chatting at her, actually, and one of them—not Heather—showed signs of uncomfortableness. Heather leaned in toward Ellie Jean and she leaned out, almost backing up while she spoke at her. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and I’d learned in my business communications class that was a clear sign that someone had closed themselves off or felt the need to protect themselves from the person near them. The urge to intervene took over, and I set Millie’s goodies down and stepped into their conversation.
“Hi, ladies. Ellie Jean, thank you so much for helping me this morning.” I nodded to Heather. “Would you mind taking the bags from Millie’s to the conference room for me?”
“Oh, honey, of course, but I was just explaining to Ellie Jean here how a few of my paintings would be lovely in the library, and especially in the conference room.” She spread her arms out and scanned the room. “As my meemaw used to say, you can’t make no silk purse out of a sow’s ear, but at least the reds would add a pop of color to these dreary walls, and they’d brighten up that sad looking conference room for sure. I’ve mentioned how I’m into reds, right?”
“You might have,” Ellie Jean said.
“Heather, I’m sure Ellie Jean would have to discuss this with the library board for any kind of decision right, Ellie Jean?”
She nodded. “Oh, yes. I am just the head librarian. I don’t make financial or décor decisions at all, but I’ll be sure to tell the board about your paintings, Heather. I saw one at my doctor’s office the other day. They’re quite lovely.” The way she emphasized lovely made me question her honesty.
“Well then, I think I’ll just have me a little conversation with the board myself,” Heather said. “It’s so dreary in this here library, I can’t imagine anyone feels good when they leave here. I know I sure don’t.”
Oh my. Talk about hitting a woman where it hurt. Libraries were Ellie Jean’s life, especially since her daughter had moved away. She mumbled something about painting by numbers kits under her breath, but I couldn’t quite hear her.
Heather leaned toward her. “What did you say, Ellie Jean?”
“Oh, nothing dear. I was just mumbling to myself.”
“Okay then, how about we head to class?” I heaved the bags into my arms and nudged Heather along. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
Heather followed, though unwillingly from the sound of her stomping. “I am so behind on my to do list, what, after being brought in for questioning for Savannah’s murder and all. I can’t believe the nerve of Dylan Roberts doing that to me.” She flung her hair and huffed. “Now, I don’t know if I’ll ever catch up with this class taking up even more of my precious painting time. I’m not even sure I should be here. I mean, it’s not like this is important anyway. I was just doing you a favor by attending.”
I walked into the conference room without saying a word to her.
Belle and the rest of the group had already arrived and of course, the conversation focused on Savannah’s murder. All of them except Caroline, who sat in utter silence, a dazed expression on her face.
“The sheriff called me in for a statement,” Bonnie said. “And I thought he was going to arrest me right then and there.”
“Oh Bonnie, you’re a hot mess. Why would that man arrest you? You didn’t do nothing wrong,” Henrietta said.
“Oh, I know that. I was just hoping he’d put the handcuffs on me.” She winked.
Belle choked on her bottled water.
“Now don’t go acting like that around here. You know our teacher is the sheriff’s girl. You don’t want to get an F in class, do you?” Henrietta asked.
I set the bags down and placed the treats onto the plates for everyone to access. “It’s okay, Bonnie. We’re not giving grades in class, and I’m not dating the sheriff anymore.”
Heather flicked her long, red hair. “Well that’s interesting news. So, Dylan’s available now?”
“Oh no, that ain’t right,” Henrietta said.
Belle thrust her palm out toward Heather’s face. “Oh, sweetie, do not go there.”
Bonnie interjected her opinion, and it was one I completely agreed with. “And besides, didn’t he just drag you into the police station kicking and screaming like a child? What in the heavens would make you think he’d want to date you after that scene?”
Heather shot Bonnie a look that had no respect in it whatsoever. She feigned innocence when she smiled at Belle, flinched and pressed her hand into her chest. “Heavens, wherever do you think I’m going? I simply asked a question.”
“Em hmm,” Belle said. “Considering your multi-year conniption fit and inability to move on from the disillusion of your relationship with Austin Emmerson, one would think you’d be a little more sensitive to Lily’s situation.”
Heather blinked. “And what situation is that exactly? Who broke up with whom?”
“Oh, this is getting good,” Bonnie said. “I don’t need to watch me no reality TV tonight. We got better stuff right here in Bramblett County.”
I’d had enough. “Ladies, stop. We’re here to learn about organizing and staging our homes for their best financial resale, not to get pithy with each other and fight about boys. You’d think we’d be past that stage by now. And besides, a friend just died.” I narrowed my eyes at Heather. “Whether you can admit it or not, Savannah was your friend once, and now she’s dead. Have some respect for that friendship.”
Heather’s eyes shifted toward the floor. Bonnie and Henrietta mumbled. I pointed at them. “Ladies, with all due respect, hush.”
Their eyes widened, but their mouths stayed shut.
Caroline barely moved, and without even looking at her, I knew Belle was about ready to do her happy dance.
“Okay then, let’s get started with today’s class.” I flipped on my computer and opened my Powerpoint presentation. “Since we didn’t get to finish the tour yesterday, I’ll go ahead and review the points and add the details we would have seen in Savannah’s house as we discuss them. If you have questions, feel free to ask, but please, keep them on point. Given the terrible tragedy, I’m not going to discuss the Armstrong home in particular, but staging and decluttering concepts in general.”
The first slide explained that home owners must view their homes
from the perspective of a buyer, not a seller. “We have to take an honest look at our homes to determine the purpose and value of each room. We must see past the memories, the photos, the things we’ve added throughout the years and distinguish the good from the bad.”
The women nodded.
“And to do that, we must be truly objective. Once we determine the value of each room, decide on its purpose, we must remove everything that doesn’t suit that purpose, and most everything that personalizes it to us. Buyers want to imagine themselves in the home. They want to see themselves sitting in the chair by the fireplace. They don’t want to imagine you there, staring at a picture of your great uncle.”
“No one wants to stare at a picture of my great uncle. He fell out the ugly tree and done hit every branch on the way down,” Bonnie said.
The rest of us laughed, except for Caroline who remained quiet, but it definitely broke the tension in the room.
Class went well after that, and we finished up without another mention of Savannah or Dylan. I assigned them homework—to which Bonnie and Henrietta hemmed and hawed, but I explained it was for their own good because I might just go ahead and give grades after all, so they decided to go ahead and do it.
I asked Caroline to wait to leave. Heather’s dislike of my whispering to Caroline was obvious from the snarl she directed my way. Belle caught on and distracted Heather by walking her to her car.
“Are you okay?” I asked Caroline.
“Yes.”
Upon closer observation, I noticed her eyes were a touch glossy.
“Are you…” I wasn’t sure how to ask what I needed to ask, so I just blurted it out. “Stoned?”
Someone coughed, and I turned around to see Ellie Jean in the room. She shrugged and scooted out.
Caroline half-smiled. “Oh heavens, no. William’s mother gave me one of her relaxation pills because I’m a little tense is all.” She picked up her bag and then dropped it on the ground. “Whoospie.”
Decluttered and Dead Page 6
