Death in Dahlonega (A Trixie Montgomery Cozy Mystery Book 1) (8 page)

Chapter Sixteen

She laughed at my pun, but stopped short when she realized I was serious. “You’re right, Trixie. Murders have been committed for a lot less. Why, the sheriff thinks I killed Tatum over a silly argument. It doesn’t make sense to me. Just because I stood over Tatum holding the murder weapon….” A sheepish look claimed her face. “Oh, yeah. Holding the murder weapon doesn’t bode well for me, does it?” Her countenance fell.

It hurt to witness my friend in so much pain. With Dee Dee’s freedom on the line, I was determined to support her. She had supported me during my divorce and I wanted to be there for her.

“Come on,” I pulled her towards a booth surrounded by tourists. We waited in line for a funnel cake, a tasty treat made of deep-fried dough, covered with powdered sugar. I often thought just inhaling the aroma could add pounds to my figure—so I planned to order one for Dee Dee as well as one for me. If I were going to gain weight, I refused to gain alone.

I squeezed up to the counter before Dee Dee.

“Hey lady, can I help you?” The man behind the counter wiped his hands on his greasy apron.

What the heck. It was for a good cause. “Yes, we’ll take two funnel cakes please, and lots of powdered sugar.” He handed one to me and yelled for another one. “Can you tell me where I can find the Dalton’s booth?”

“Sure. They run the Backyard Bar-b-que. It’s across the street and down a ways to the left. That’ll be six fifty.” He accepted my change and barked, “Next!”

I had been dismissed. I moved over to let a less than petite woman elbow her way to the counter.

I handed Dee Dee her funnel cake and she unwound a long curl of the doughy treat. “This’ll be good for a quick energy boost.” She looked cute with white powder all around her mouth. “Where are we going?”

My mouth full, I pointed across the street. We headed in that direction, holding the flimsy plates steady as we savored our treats.

The Dalton’s booth was easy to find. Another long line flowed into the street. Eating must be the main event at Gold Rush Days.

“Looks like we might have to buy a sandwich, too.” I brushed my sticky mouth and threw the trash in a plastic-lined bin.

“Yes, it does.” Dee Dee added, tossing her plate in, as well.

As we approached the booth, I saw several people working inside. Two men and two women danced around each other as they filled orders. I wondered which one was Sueleigh.

“Next!”

“I’ll take two sandwiches and two Cokes, please.” As the man handed me our food, I asked which lady was Sueleigh.

“Neither one. Sueleigh is my daughter. Why ya’ asking?” His words were clipped and his tone unfriendly.

That would never do. I set on my reporter’s grin, and introduced myself. “I write for a historical magazine, and I want to interview her. Teresa Duncan, over at the Gold Museum, recommended I talk with Sueleigh about Gold Rush Days.” All right, we all stretch the truth at times. I prayed the end justified the means.

“Teresa. Why didn’t ya’ say so?” A smile softened his gruff exterior. “Sueleigh is driving the horse carriage for me today. You can catch her over there.” He pointed to the square. I glanced at my shoe. Unfortunately, I was familiar with the horse carriage.

“Thanks, thanks a lot.” I don’t think he heard me. He’d moved on to the next hungry customer. I turned around and bumped into Dee Dee.

“I heard. I guess we’re on our way to the carriage ride?” She grabbed a Coke and took a long drink.

“Let’s find somewhere to sit.” We sat in silence, on a bench facing the square. It was the perfect setting for people watching.

I’m a firm believer that if your self-confidence is in danger of waning, you should go to the mall and people watch. God made humans in all different sizes, shapes, colors, and personalities. The bottom line is, we’re all pretty much made from the same pattern.

“People watching again?” Dee Dee asked, slurping her drink.

“Isn’t it odd how the Lord made people in all shapes and sizes?”

We watched a family of four, one kid in braces, the second with a gap-toothed smile that showed he’d be next.

“Ever notice how the beautiful people on television are never at the farmer’s markets?”

“Or the mall.” Dee Dee nodded. “And their beauty has been enhanced, at that!”

I agreed, having participated in this activity many times after my divorce. My self-esteem was then at an all time low. It had taken me a great deal of contemplation to realize he hadn’t strayed because of my looks or my self-esteem. He had strayed because of his
own
lack of self-esteem, disguised as an overblown ego. He still didn’t understand, and I wasn’t making any bets he ever would. That was okay. I’d discovered that I needed to spend my limited energy on me and let God take care of Wade.

As I sat thinking, the clippity-clop of a horse pulling a carriage sounded behind us. We turned to see a stunning redhead high on the driver’s seat. She wasn’t alone. A man, who looked vaguely familiar, sat next to her.

I poked Dee Dee in the ribs.

“Ouch.” She rubbed her side. “What did you do that for?”

“Look over there. See the man sitting next to the redhead?”

“Sure. What’s so important about him you had to crack my rib?”

“That looks like Leroy, Joyce’s nephew. What do you think he’s doing talking with Sueleigh Dalton? That guy gives me the creeps. I thought I was going to wet my pants when he snuck up on me last night.” I wadded up my sandwich wrapper and threw it in a nearby garbage can.

“Don’t exaggerate, Trix. You said he was making his nightly rounds. It’s no wonder you were edgy last night after the horrible day we’d been through.”

I knew she was trying her best to convince me that I was wrong, but it wasn’t working. “Dee Dee, there’s something in my gut. I just can’t put my finger on it. To see him talking with Sueleigh adds fuel to the fire. Some coincidence if you ask me. Come on; let’s buy a ticket for the carriage ride. I’m going to find out one way or the other what he’s up to.”

Chapter Seventeen

When the carriage turned the corner, we were next in line. I glanced over at Dee Dee. “Close your mouth before a fly takes up residence in there.”

I knew what caused her laxity of the jaw. Even from a distance, I had to work hard to avert my stare and avoid taking in the whole picture. I knew why Tatum fell hard for Sueleigh. In fact, I could understand why any breathing male, regardless of age, might be attracted to her. A tight pale lavender sweater accentuated the largest set of manmade boobs I’d ever seen.

She wore her long, fiery red hair flowing down her back. Enough make up covered her face to qualify for a walking advertisement. No doubt, many a head had turned to get a second look at the combination of ample chest, red hair, and painted face.

“She’ll never have to worry about falling flat on her face.” Dee Dee chuckled at her bad joke.

“Shhhh! Act natural. Here she comes.”

Next thing I knew, Sueleigh Dalton looked our way. She pulled the reins back and a beautiful brown and white horse came to a stop. “Hi. You ladies ready?”

“Sure. Come on Dee Dee.” I grabbed her and guided her to the back seat, and then I turned to Sueleigh and asked her if I could sit up front. “I’ve always wanted to sit up front with the driver.”

“I don’t usually let riders up front. It could be dangerous; if there’s an accident, somebody might file a law suit because they fell off the wagon,” she laughed.

I didn’t want to miss a chance to get up close and personal with a suspect, so I blurted out what I hoped would entice her to break the rules. “What if I told you I’m interested in interviewing you for a magazine article? I write for
Georgia By the Way
, and I’m working on an article about Gold Rush Days. I’d like my assistant to take your picture. There’s a good chance it could make the cover.”

She whooshed her hair behind her back. “In that case, I don’t think it would hurt this one time. Come on up.” She eyed my cane with a quizzical expression. “Do you need me to help you up?”

“I think I can make it if you give me a hand.” With a little grunting and groaning, Sueleigh managed to pull me up beside her. With a flick of the reins and a ‘giddy up,’ we started on our way.

“The man riding with you looked familiar. Does he work at the inn?”

“Oh, that’s Leroy Roberts, the owner’s nephew. He’s a friend of mine. We go back a long way. As a matter of fact, we went to school together. We were discussing the murder of John Tatum. I guess you’ve heard about it?” She raised painted eyebrows in question. She pulled on a rein and the horse turned down a back street.

“Yes, we have. What did you discuss about the murder?”

Sueleigh emitted a high-pitched scream, making the horses ears flick back and forth. “Oh my Gosh!” she exclaimed. “I know who you are. You’re the lady that killed John.”

“That’s not true,” I said. I turned around to see if Dee Dee had heard. She seemed oblivious as she watched the scenery. I gave her one of my most charming smiles and continued.

“What I mean is, it wasn’t anyone I know. My friend Dee Dee has, however, been questioned by the sheriff about the murder of your ex-boyfriend.”

“How did you know he was my ex-boyfriend?” She narrowed her gaze and pulled back on the leather straps. The horse slowed. For a minute, I thought she might stop and order us out.

“Okay.” I held my hands up in surrender. “I really
am
a reporter, and I’m working on a story about Gold Rush Days, but I’m also trying to help my best friend. I’ve been asking around town about anyone closely associated with Tatum. I have to help Dee Dee. The sheriff doesn’t seem interested in looking for the real killer, so we’ve decided to find out who it is.” I waited to see her reaction. When she didn’t kick us out I continued. “We need your help,” I pleaded.

Sympathy cooled her gaze. “Well, I know what it’s like to have people look at you like you’re really bad. But how can I help you?”

“Is it true you and John were involved?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

“If you call having his child
involved
, yes we were. He broke my heart. John told me over and over that he’d divorce Miranda so we could get married.” Tears glistened in her eyes and my heart softened—until I remembered it was another woman’s husband she’d been involved with. I swallowed down my judgment and listened as she went on.

“I was so excited when I found out I was pregnant. I just knew he’d divorce Miranda, marry me, and give the baby a name. Boy, was I ever wrong.” The words spewed from her painted mouth. “He not only fired me as his secretary; he stopped calling me. I tried to contact him over and over. He told me I’d better stop harassing him or he was going to get a restraining order. Can you believe that?” She pulled back on the reins to let a group of tourists pass. “A restraining order. On me! I was carrying his child, and he threatened to have me arrested if I didn’t stop bothering him. He even suggested I do something about the pregnancy. I know I might not be the brightest light bulb in the room, but I would never harm my unborn child.”

She moved up a notch in my book as the horse’s hooves clip-clopped along the street. People pointed and waved. Kids begged their parents for a ride.

It dawned on me; Sueleigh had grown used to the finger pointing for all sorts of different reasons. No matter what the circumstances, this woman had been wronged. Through it all, she had protected her unborn child.

Sueleigh continued. “After that, I stopped contacting him. I didn’t want anything to do with that man. I have a beautiful little girl, and I’ve been raising her myself, with some help from my parents. They were furious with John. Daddy wanted me to take him to court and make him pay child support. I thought about it, but knowing John’s temper, I decided to let it go. I didn’t want his money anyway.”

Her voice dropped several levels. “There’s other ways besides money to make someone pay.” She looked straight ahead and concentrated on turning the horse down a lane.

Whether it was by bribery or murder, I suddenly believed she’d made him pay, and dearly at that.