“Caroline, did you drive here?”
“Goodness gracious, no. My William dropped me off.” She giggled. “I’m in no condition to drive.”
I had a feeling the confrontation with Savannah, her subsequent murder and Caroline’s questioning at the sheriff’s office was a bit much for her, and that’s why she’d taken whatever it was William’s mother had given her. “When is William coming to get you?”
“When class is over.” She wobbled a little as she stood. “He’ll be outside.”
“Okay. How about I take you out there?” I grabbed her bag. “Let me get this for you.”
“Well, all right then, if you insist.” She walked like someone who was being asked to walk a straight line for a drunk driving test. Focused on her feet, her eyes locked on their every move, but she was unable to keep steady.
William headed into the library as we exited the main doors. He rushed to her side, and she fell into him.
“Oh, William dear, I’m so sleepy.”
“What did she take?” I asked.
“My mother gave her a Xanax. She didn’t sleep at all last night, and this morning she was so anxious and stressed out about everything, I didn’t know what to do. I called my mom, and she rushed over, told Caroline to take the pill and go to bed. Caroline took the pill but insisted on coming to class. Said it would look bad if she didn’t. I didn’t want her to, but I’m not the boss of her, you know?”
I nodded. “When a woman makes up her mind, no one’s the boss of her.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” He secured his hold on his wife and smiled at me. “Thanks for getting her out here.”
“No problem. Let me know how she’s doing okay?”
“I will. She’s having a rough time of it. Savannah’s death really threw her for a loop.”
“That and her coming back to town in general.”
He blinked. “I guess so.” He stood with his wife leaning against him. “Well, thanks again.” He propped her up to walk and headed to his car.
* * *
Belle and I stayed at the library to prepare for the next class and handle some work related items. She wanted to discuss Dylan, but I refused. “I can’t talk about him now.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded. “I just need some distance from it all right now.”
“Got it. Can we talk about Savannah?”
I shoved some papers into a file. “Yes, let’s do that.”
“But it’s going to include Dylan.”
“I know, but that’s different.”
“I saw him this morning. I made my statement.”
I didn’t know she’d gone there, too. “Really? I was there this morning. When were you there?”
“I didn’t go to the station. I met him early, at Millie’s. I gave it there.”
My stomach lurched. Dylan met with Belle in a casual environment and with me in an official one. I guess I deserved that.
“He told me Savannah died from strangulation. That’s horrible.”
I swallowed a lump building in the back of my throat. “I know. I can’t even imagine.”
“I read about it. It’s quick, so there’s that.”
“I guess, but still, it’s an awful way to die.”
“Definitely. Did he tell you he’s planning on arresting someone?” she asked.
“Did he tell you that?”
“Oh, no. He wouldn’t even tell me who his suspects are, though it’s pretty obvious. Told me to leave it alone. I just thought maybe he said something to you, you know, seeing as…” She let that comment lie there, unfinished.
“He told me to stay out of it, too, remember? And he reiterated that this morning. But, I have my own list of suspects, and I’m pretty sure he’s got the same ones.”
“Well, I think he needs to arrest Austin Emmerson. Obviously, he did it.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Savannah was strangled. You’ve got to be pretty strong to do that. Plus, he had on that red hoodie jacket, and she was divorcing him.” She leaned back in her chair. “I’ve always kind of thought he was a snake in the grass anyway, especially after what he did to Heather.”
It takes two to tango, you know.”
“Oh, honey, I know, but still. I just can’t see a woman killing someone with her bare hands.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. Love and money made people do crazy things. “I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right about it all to me, and remember, Heather’s red hoodie was in the Armstrong’s house.”
“You’re going to do it, aren’t you?”
“Do what?” I asked.
“Exactly what Dylan told you not to, get involved in his investigation.”
“I’m not going to get involved. I’m just going to do a little research of my own. I feel a little responsible for this, and I think I owe it to Savannah.”
Belle sighed. “You weren’t the one that set her up in the class. That was all me.”
“It’s not your fault. The class was my idea, and Savannah didn’t have to show her parent’s home. She did that with intent. It was my fault for not stopping her from doing that. I shouldn’t have let it get as far as it did. I put her in harm’s way.”
“We both did, Lily.”
“I could have said no to her, but I didn’t, and I need to make it right.”
“Me, too.”
“No, Belle. This is on my shoulders, not yours. Besides, your relationship with Matthew is new. You don’t need to mess it up by getting involved in a murder investigation.”
“Oh, so you can mess up your relationship, but I can’t?”
“Yes.” I nodded my head in a short, quick rhythm. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“My boyfriend is only the deputy sheriff, so don’t you think it would be less of a problem if I did something?”
I furrowed my brow. “Honey, that is all kinds of crazy, but either way, no. I need you to hold down the fort here. Okay?”
She stuck her chin high in the air and made some strange huffy sound by blowing air out of her nose. “Fine. It doesn’t matter anyway. I know you’ll keep me in the loop.”
“Of course, I will. You’re my best friend.”
* * *
We finished the items on our mutual to do list, and Belle left for a prospective listing appointment. I needed to follow up on our current client listings, check on the progress of the condos being built on Myrtle Redbecker’s old property and pick Bo up at doggy daycare. We had some training to practice before puppy school later.
The busy work distracted my heart and allowed me to forget about Dylan. I didn’t forget about Savannah though. In fact, I couldn’t stop thinking about her and who might have killed her.
The condo unit construction was progressing fine. They had a real estate company coming in to do the actual unit sales, but I’d worked out an arrangement for a pre-construction commitment commission as well as a higher split rate for anyone we brought to the table who purchased a unit, so it was important for me to keep tabs on the quality of their work. I’d already got contracts on four units and expected one more in the near future. A new lacrosse coach had been hired at the high school, and he’d fallen in love with one of the models. The first building was scheduled for completion in two months, with a ready move in date a month later, and I hoped that stayed on track. I’d sold one of those to the coach, and he’d been paying a ridiculously high rent for a one bedroom house in town while waiting. Teacher’s salaries weren’t accommodating to high rent prices, especially in counties with limited rentals.
I left the condo property and bumped into Austin Emmerson on my way to pick up Bo. Literally bumped into him inside the gas station. “Oh, hey.” I wasn’t exactly sure what to say to him.
He bounced on the tips of his toes and rubbed the spot that connected his left shoulder to his neck. “Hey, I was planning on coming to see you later. You got a minute now?”
I tapped my electronic p
edometer to check the time. “Just a quick one. What’s up?” I wanted to talk to him also, but I’d hope it would be in a more private setting.
He pulled me to the side. “Can we talk outside or maybe go for a beer or something?”
“I don’t have time for a beer.” I didn’t drink anyway, but it wasn’t something I usually discussed. “But let me pay for my things, and I’ll meet you outside. I have to get my dog at day care and go to puppy class.”
He pushed his eyebrows together. “Your dog’s at daycare?”
“It’s a pretty popular trend now. I’m surprised you’ve never heard of it.” I walked toward the checkout counter. “Give me a second.”
He paced the front sidewalk of the gas station convenience store while I paid for my things. I hadn’t seen Austin in years but he wasn’t the same guy I knew in college. His shoulders slumped and his chest kind of caved in. Insecurity and depression replaced the elitist southern charm and overbearing confidence that had always annoyed me in college.
“What’s up?” I asked.
We walked to my car.
“Your boyfriend told me not to leave town. He thinks I killed my wife.”
I didn’t tell him Dylan wasn’t my boyfriend. “Did you?”
His eyes widened. “What? No. I…why would I do that? I loved her.”
“She was divorcing you. She said you’d cheated on her, and she was tired of it.”
“I never cheated on Savannah.”
“Just because you paid for it doesn’t mean it’s not cheating.”
“Uh. I…I don’t have to pay for sex.”
“Savannah said something different.”
“She’s lying. Was lying. That’s not why we were getting divorced. She left me because of the money.” He shook his hands at the side of his head. “She had an argument with my parents and…and they cut us off.” He tugged on his shirt. “Look at me. Do I look like you remember?” He held up his left foot. “These are Berluti shoes. They cost over twenty-one hundred bucks, and they’ve got mud on them. Do you think I’d let that happen if I didn’t have to?”
He was disheveled and wearing the same clothes he had on the day we discovered Savannah’s body, including the red hoodie. That wasn’t like Austin. He grew up in in a big house in one of the wealthiest communities in Atlanta. Buckhead people didn’t wear dirty clothes, and they certainly didn’t wear the same clothes more than once a week.
“She did say she told your parents you two should manage your own money. She said you were getting an allowance, and she was tired of it.”
“Not an allowance. A trust. I received a monthly payment from my trust, and they stopped that because of the things she said to them and because she was over-spending every month. She kept going to them for cash and they refused to give her any more, so she left.” He rubbed his eyes and dragged his hand down his face. “I have a couple hundred bucks to my name and that’s it.” He leaned against my car. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. This is bad.”
“You’re not winning friends here, Austin.”
He looked me straight in the eyes. “I didn’t kill her, Lily. You’ve got to believe me. I wanted to work things out. I don’t care about the money. I didn’t care about the money. I told my parents that. I told Savannah that, and that’s why she left. She said the only reason she married me was for the money. Said she never loved me and would have chosen that loser Billy if she’d wanted to marry for love.”
Billy? What was he—oh no, Billy. Back in college everyone called William Abernathy Billy. “You mean Caroline’s husband?”
“Yes, Billy. They were together for over a year, but no one knew about it. Savannah said she loved him, but she didn’t want to stay in Bramblett County. She didn’t want to live on a corn maze. She thought she was better than that.”
I leaned on my car, too. “So, it’s true. Savannah and William really were together. Poor Caroline.”
“I didn’t kill my wife. I loved her. I still love her.” He cried, and I watched as the tears fell from his eyes. “You’ve got to talk to your boyfriend, Lily. Please.”
He was right. I did have to talk to Dylan, at least about Savannah and William, and definitely before Caroline found out. “I don’t know what I can do, but I’ll try to say something.”
“So, you believe me?”
I did believe him. That meant if Austin didn’t kill Savannah, I had only two possible suspects, Heather and Caroline, and since I’d just found out that William did cheat on his wife, Caroline’s threats looked worse than before.
Chapter 5
Bo and his drooling jowls earned him the most popular puppy award in doggy day care. Well, that and the fact that he snuggled onto every lap he could, every chance he got. He was definitely a ladies’ pup. I should have been offended, but I’d learned a lap was a lap and no longer took it personally.
There was just enough time to feed the big lug–and myself—and walk to the park for puppy training, so that’s what we did. The walk was quick, except for a few marking stops and overwhelming stiff scrutinization of a leaf, rock and interesting spot on the ground. Class also flew by, probably because only two other puppies showed up, so we finished in almost half the time.
I knew if we went straight home I’d end up either on the couch or the back patio fretting about Dylan or obsessing about Savannah’s murder, neither of which were fair to Bo, so even though he was tired, he rallied, and we took the scenic route home, extending the walk another fifteen minutes.
I loved the scenic route because it took us by the abandoned barn I used to sneak into as a kid. Most of it was gone now, the wood that hadn’t rotted either stolen by people or destroyed by kudzu, leaving only the frame of the old building standing.
Most of Georgia believed whomever introduced kudzu to America did so with the sole intention of destroying the South. The weed grew like a middle school boy in puberty. Nothing stopped it except a strong, deep fire, and often that wasn’t enough. Some landscape professionals said serious weed killers took it out, but if the vine showed up on a residential lawn, using something strong like that would kill everything else before it even touched the nasty vine.
Kudzu migrated from the Northeast to Georgia as a grass replacement. Georgia clay, our nearly impossible to penetrate, hard, orange dirt, didn’t allow much to take root, and kudzu was the perfect ground cover. Until it wasn’t. Back when it first took over the state, or at least started to, and people went missing, it was assumed they were eaten by the weedy vine. People would say things like, “Old Johnny boy, he was a good fellow. Too bad he took to dyin’ out in that there kudzu. Walked out in it one night an ain’t never come back.”
Every time I saw the weedy vine intertwining itself around some poor, dying tree or old building, I shivered. My father used to tell me never get too close to it and most definitely never touch it, or it would eat me alive. At fifteen Belle and I touched it to see what would happen, and of course, she made me touch it first. Given that neither of us went missing, I suspected most people that had either wanted to, or did because of something other than the kudzu. Neither of those options made the old tale fun though.
Bo rushed to the brush of weed and piddled on it. I imagined that was his own version of rebellion toward the useless ground cover and rubbed his ears. “Good boy. If anything can kill that destructive vine, it’s your urine, big boy.”
We spent the rest of the walk enjoying the cool evening breeze and listening to the night sounds. Bo jumped and yelped in fear at the frog that hopped out in front of him, and I laughed hysterically and then felt bad when he hid behind my legs. “It’s just a little toad, buddy. It’s not going to hurt you.”
The poor frog was probably more scared of him. We watched him hop into the grass and make his little sounds to warn all his friends to stay clear of the monsters on the sidewalk.
When we got home there was an envelope taped onto my front door. I assumed it was from Dylan and tossed it on the kitchen table with
out opening it. An hour later, after getting ready for bed, I poured myself a glass of iced water and stared at the envelope. It just sat on the table, mocking me and begging me to open it.
I knew what it said. Something similar to, sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. Please forgive me. Blah, blah, blah. I didn’t want to read it. I wasn’t ready to read it, but some part of me, the compulsive part, apparently, wanted to read it, and my hand snatched up the envelope, ripped it open and pulled out the letter.
It wasn’t from Dylan. In fact, it wasn’t signed at all, but I knew who it was from the minute I read the single typed line.
If you know what’s good for you, you’ll do what your boyfriend says.
I eyed the typed note. At first my heart beat increased, and I went into panic mode, but that subsided quickly, and then I got angry. The anger diminished just as fast, and then I just didn’t care.
“Really,” I said to my dog. “This, again?” I waved the note at him, and he jumped for it. I pitched the note back onto the table, filled his water and got him a treat.
How many times would I be threatened by people involved in murders in Bramblett County?
While Bo munched on his big milk bone, I made a security check through the house, checking every door and window. I grabbed the note from the table again and sat on the couch with my cell phone. I flipped the phone in my hand over and over, postponing the inevitable. I knew what I had to do. I just didn’t want to do it. I refused to make the call. Instead, I snapped a photo of the note and texted it to Dylan.
He responded in under a minute with, “I’ll be there in five.”
And he was.
* * *
Dylan pulled on the window over the kitchen sink.
“I already checked that.”
He pinched his lips together and marched into my family room, where he yanked on the windows there, too.
I stood in the doorway with my arms crossed over my chest. “Checked those, also. And the one in the bedrooms, bathrooms, and my office. They’re all locked. So is the front door and the door to the patio.”
Decluttered and Dead Page 7
