Full Bloom (7 page)

“It’s because of the ghost,” Destiny told her.

Max looked interested. “Ghost?”

Destiny nodded. “I’m surprised Jamie didn’t mention it. You wouldn’t believe what all goes on in this house.” She leaned closer to Max and started to say something.

“What can I offer you to drink?” Annie interrupted before Destiny had a chance to regale Max with stories. Annie had no desire for Destiny to share with Max Holt all the craziness that went on in the house.

“I’m fine for now,” Jamie said.

Max nodded. “I’m okay.”

“It’s like this,” Destiny began.

“Are you sure?” Annie almost shouted, making them jump. “I have coffee, tea, orange juice, apple juice, diet root beer—”

They shook their heads and turned their attention back to Destiny.

“. . . Two percent milk, soy. You know, I’ll bet a glass of wine would be nice. I can—”

“Annie, what’s wrong with you?” Jamie asked. “Why are you so jumpy?”

“It’s the new tenant,” Destiny said with a big grin. “You know, that half-naked guy you helped us stuff in the bathtub yesterday? He just moved in.”

Max looked at Jamie. “Huh?”

Wes turned into the driveway of a modest ranch-style house, parked, and cut his engine. He removed his motorcycle helmet, climbed from the bike, and made his way toward the front door. The woman who opened it had hair the color of black shoe polish, wore a bright red caftan with matching lipstick and lime green bedroom slippers. A long, skinny cigarette dangled from her mouth.

“Wes Bridges?” she asked, talking around the cigarette. “I expected you yesterday.” She had a three-pack-a-day smoker’s voice; sounded like she’d been sucking on them since first grade.

“Life isn’t always predictable, Mrs. Fortenberry. May I come in?”

“Yes.” She stepped back and waited for him to enter before closing the door behind him. “You can call me Eve.” She motioned to a lumpy chair that was the same avocado green as the dated shag carpet. Wes sat.

Garlic hung heavy in the air. Wes blinked and rubbed his eyes. The ash on Eve’s cigarette was an inch long. He eyed it closely.

“I’m making spaghetti for a sick neighbor,” Eve said. “Do you like garlic?”

“In reasonable doses.”

“It cures all sorts of ailments, you know. May I offer you something to drink?” When Wes declined, she sat on the worn sofa across from him. She took a deep draw from her cigarette, and the ash grew longer. Finally, it fell unnoticed by her on her dress. “Now then,” she said. “What have you got for me?”

“I’ve rented a room from your daughter-in-law.”

She gave a dry hacking cough. “You work fast.”

“I don’t believe in wasting a client’s time or money,” he said.

“What do you think of Annie? Is she a kook or what? Her grandmother was a kook. Like they say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Wes looked thoughtful. “It’s too soon to tell.”

Puff, puff, cough. “And how ’bout that house? I ask you, have you
ever
?”

“Nope, never.”

“You know it’s an old bordello or, as my daddy would say, God rest his soul, whorehouse.”

Wes arched both brows. “Oh yeah?”

“Before the Civil War. I read up on it a long time ago.” She paused. “Did Annie mention my son?”

“I was told he left her for another woman.”

“That’s the cock-and-bull story she gave the police, and the reason they did such a piss-poor job of investigating. That Lamar Tevis, he’s the police chief, is an idiot. He bought this fancy-schmancy deep-sea fishing boat three years ago. He’s going to retire as soon as he pays it off and start a deep-sea fishing charter service. He’s just biding his time until then.”

“You don’t believe your son left Annie?” Wes asked.

“Hell no. I wouldn’t have hired you otherwise.”

Wes glanced around the living room. “Perhaps we should go over my fees again.”

“My check for your retainer cleared the bank, didn’t it?” she said stiffly. When he nodded, she went on. “I can cover your expenses, Mr. Bridges. As I told you over the phone, my husband died three months ago. Fortunately, he had a sizable insurance policy, so I was
finally
able do something about my son’s disappearance. I’ll spend every dime of it if I have to in order to find out what really happened to Charles.”

Wes gave her a kind smile. “Eve, your son’s car was found at the Savannah airport. No luggage. He cleaned out the savings account he shared with his wife. He had enough money to fly anywhere in the world.”

She looked embarrassed. “My son worked hard for that money. Do you have any idea how much it costs to keep up a place the size of Annie’s? The electric bill alone would break me.” She took a long drag from her cigarette. “There was no record of him getting on a plane, no paper trail, nothing. We’ve already been over that. The bottom line is Charles would never have stayed gone this long without contacting me. No matter what the circumstances,” she added. “I spent twice the going rate to hire you because you’re supposed to be the best in the business. I want my son found.”

Annie and Theenie were in the process of cleaning up after lunch when Danny Gilbert arrived back with his sander. Annie insisted that he eat something before going to work. As he waited for Annie to prepare him a sandwich and heat a bowl of soup, Lovelle recounted her days as a professional ballerina.

At the other end of the table, Destiny, Jamie, and Max discussed newspaper business and chuckled over a couple of letters that had been addressed to the Divine Love Goddess Adviser.

“Some people are so loopy,” Destiny said. “Listen to this one: ‘Dear Love Goddess Adviser: Some months ago I discovered my husband was a cross-dresser. After the shock had passed, I decided to make the best of it, and now we share our clothes. What has me so frustrated is the fact that he doesn’t
ask
if he can borrow my clothes; he just grabs what he needs out of my closet. When he returns an outfit I often find food stains on it, but he never offers to take anything to the dry cleaners. I have complained, but he doesn’t listen. Could you please settle this dispute? I fear our marriage may be in deep trouble unless we can work this out.’”

Max and Jamie laughed.

“Oh, and listen to this one,” Destiny said. “‘Dear Love Goddess Adviser: I am probably overreacting, but I suspect my husband is cheating on me. He doesn’t return home some nights until almost midnight, and he reeks of Chanel Number Five. I have found lipstick on his shirt collar, long scratches on his back, and the other night when he undressed, his underwear was on backward. Do you think I’m just being one of those suspicious wives?’”

Jamie laughed until her sides hurt as Destiny continued to read several more. Annie was happy to see her friend looking more relaxed, and the private smiles Jamie and Max shared when they thought nobody was looking would have made most women envious.

Danny finished his lunch and carried his dishes to the sink, where he rinsed them. Wes entered the kitchen, a camera hanging from his neck. All eyes turned to him, and the chatter stopped. “You must be the other new guest,” Lovelle said, and introduced herself. She had met Destiny earlier.

“Nice to meet you,” he said politely.

Max stood and made introductions as well. If Wes recognized Jamie, he didn’t say anything. “Nice camera,” Max said. “Are you a photographer?”

Wes nodded. “I’ve been able to get some great shots this morning. Beaumont is a beautiful town.”

“It grows on you fast,” Max said.

“Wes, would you care for a sandwich?” Annie asked, wishing just once she could round up everybody at the same time for meals. Seemed like she was always offering somebody something to eat; felt like she was working at the Huddle House.

“I grabbed something earlier,” he said. “Nice to meet you,” he told Max and Jamie as he headed upstairs, stepping aside for Theenie, who was on her way down.

“Good grief!” Lovelle said when Wes was out of hearing distance. “Where did you find
him
?”

“He sort of found us,” Annie said.

“Annie almost killed him,” Theenie said. “Then Doc almost killed him.”

“Perhaps I should explain,” Annie said. She had opened her mouth to do just that when she heard a man’s voice out back shouting her name. He sounded frantic. “What in the world!” She threw open the back door and found Doc’s gardener racing across the backyard, calling out to her loudly.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Wes hurried into the kitchen. “What’s going on? Is somebody hurt?”

Annie was already on the back porch, the others behind her. The gardener stopped at the back stairs, staggered once, grabbed the porch rail. His face was ashen. He tried to speak.

Annie hurried down and touched his arm. “What’s wrong?” she said. “Are you injured?” She looked for blood, didn’t see any.

“It’s terrible,” the man managed. “Worst thing I ever seen.”

“What is it?” she demanded.

“Back yonder. Behind the, um, that carriage house.”

Wes pushed through the group and cleared the back steps in one jump. He was the first to arrive at the gaping hole, with Max and Danny right behind him. Wes knelt beside it, and his eyes froze at what he saw. “Holy shit!”

Max joined him. “Holy shit is right.”

Wes looked at Danny. “Keep the women back.”

Danny turned. “Don’t come any closer, okay?” he told them.

Theenie and Lovelle came to an abrupt halt, but the others rushed forward.

“What is it?” Annie said.

Jamie blinked several times, trying to make sense of what she was looking at. “Bones?” she asked.

“It’s a skeleton,” Max said.

Annie gave an eye roll. “Oh, Jeez, it’s my grandmother’s dog. She had Erdle bury him somewhere back here after he died. I’d forgotten about it.”

Wes shook his head. “Sorry, Annie, but this is no dog. It’s a human skeleton.”

“Oh, I can’t see this,” Theenie said, backing away. She turned and hurried toward the house. Lovelle followed.

Annie stared back at Wes in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous!”

“He’s right, Annie,” Max said.

“It looks human to me, too,” Jamie said, and Destiny agreed.

Annie stepped closer and looked. “Oh, shit, I have a dead person in my backyard! Oh, shit. Oh, shit.”

“There’s some kind of cloth there,” Max said.

Wes nodded and glanced over his shoulder. “Look, this is obviously a crime scene, and I’d rather not jeopardize any trace evidence.” He didn’t see the look Max gave him. “So I’d appreciate it if everybody would please move back.”

Danny convinced the women to step away.

“It’s not like I’ve never seen dead people before,” Destiny told him. “They follow me everywhere I go.”

Max and Wes were quiet as they studied the site. “Looks like the cloth was yellow at some point,” Max said, “although it’s hard to tell.”

“There’s some kind of insignia on the material,” Wes said.

Max grabbed a stick. “Only one way to find out.”

Destiny stood there, a knowing look in her eyes.

“Be careful,” Wes whispered. “There could be hairs or fibers.”

“You sound like you know what you’re talking about,” Max said, very gently lifting a portion of the material.

“I watch a lot of TV. Enough to know we shouldn’t be doing this. Okay, hold it right there, and I’ll see if I can read it.” Taking great care not to disturb anything, Wes leaned forward. “Looks like a
C
and an
F
.”

“Have you found anything?” Jamie called out.

“Some kind of yellow material,” Max said. “Could be a shirt or a jacket. Initials
CF
on it.”

Annie and Jamie looked at each other, their eyes wide and disbelieving. “No!” Annie said. “That’s impossible!” She shook her head. “It can’t be. It just can’t be.”

“Annie . . .” Jamie stepped closer, reached out.

“No!” Annie cried, and pushed her away.

“What the hell?” Wes leaped to his feet and raced toward Annie as she screamed. He shook her hard. “Annie, what is it?”

She opened her mouth, tried to speak, couldn’t. Her eyes were glazed.

Wes looked confused but did as he was told.

Jamie looked at him. “It’s a jacket. I was with Annie when she purchased it.
CF
stands for
Charles Fortenberry
.”

“My husband,” Annie choked. Her eyes rolled back in her head before everything went black.

Wes was there to catch her.

CHAPTER FOUR

Police Chief Lamar Tevis studied the shallow grave closely, turning his head this way and that as if to get a better look, as one officer snapped pictures and another surrounded the area with yellow crime scene tape. Finally, Lamar stood and brushed the dirt from the knees of his khaki uniform. “It’s a body, all right,” he said. “I’m not an expert on this sort of thing, so I can’t tell how long it has been there. Takes one of those forensic whatchamacallits for that. They may have someone at the Medical University in Charleston, but there’s no telling how long it’ll take them to get around to it.”

Wes, who’d already introduced himself, shook his head. “I don’t think you’ll need a forensic anthropologist,” he said, earning raised eyebrows from Lamar. “At least for the time being,” he added. “Mrs. Fortenberry is certain the body is that of her husband.”

Lamar glanced at Max as if seeking verification. Max told him about the jacket and initials. “Jamie was present when Annie purchased it.”

Danny Gilbert crossed the yard and joined the men. “Afternoon, Lamar,” he said. They shook hands.

“What are you up to these days?” Lamar asked. “Done any fishing lately?”

Danny shook his head. “Work has been keeping me busy. I’m sanding Annie Fortenberry’s wood floors today.”

Lamar frowned. “Uh-oh. That sounds pretty suspicious if you ask me.”

“Why is that?” Wes asked.

“A woman finds a body in her backyard and claims it’s her missing husband, and all she can think of is having her floors sanded?” Lamar reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small notebook. “I’d better write that down. Might prove helpful in the investigation.”

Max and Wes exchanged looks. There was a hint of a smile on Max’s lips.

“Actually, Annie is taking it pretty hard,” Danny said. “She’s lying down.”

“I’ve known Annie since she was a bookkeeper at Bates’s Furniture,” Lamar said. “I bought several rooms of furniture there. Used to go in once a month to pay on my bill. You know Herman Bates sells good-quality furniture at reasonable prices, and he offers discounts if you buy multiple rooms.”

“So what do you think?” Max asked, nodding toward the grave.

“Well, I questioned Annie when Mr. Fortenberry first turned up missing and his mother started making all kinds of wild accusations. I’ll tell you, that Eve is a piece of work. But I saw no reason to suspect foul play. ’Course this changes everything. By the way, who found the body?”

“Doc Holden’s gardener.” Wes pointed to the man, who was sitting on a tree stump, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

“Who’s he talking to?” Lamar whispered.

“He’s still pretty upset,” Max said.

Lamar motioned for the officer who’d finished taking pictures. “I need for you to question that fellow over there,” he said, nodding toward the gardener. “And go easy on him; he looks just shy of a straitjacket.”

A car pulled into the driveway. Editor Mike Henderson from the
Gazette
hurried toward them, accompanied by Vera Bankhead, Jamie’s secretary and assistant editor. She held a camera.

“Oh, cripes,” Lamar said. “Just what I need. Let me do all the talking.”

“We heard the news on the police scanner,” Mike said. “Somebody found a body in Annie Fortenberry’s backyard,” he added. “What can you tell us?”

Despite the grave expression he wore, it was hard for most people to take Mike seriously, not only because he was young and still had that fresh-out-of-college look, but also because he was so noticeably unorganized. He seldom ironed his shirts, and scraps of paper fluttered from his pockets when he reached for his stash of pens, which often leaked and had stained most of his clothes. He was known to chase women, and he’d had his eye on Destiny Moultrie for months. Jamie often claimed she was trying to raise him to be a
real
editor.

“No comment,” Lamar said.

Mike just stared back as if unsure what to do.

Sixty-year-old Vera Bankhead planted her hands on her hips. She looked younger than her age thanks to a complete makeover the year before, which included a Susan Sarandon hairstyle, and a new wardrobe that had put Vera on the top ten best-dressed list for the women at Mount Zion Baptist Church. The fact that Vera never missed a Sunday and could quote Scripture word-for-word did not deter her when it came to getting what she wanted. She could be quite formidable.

“Cut the bull, Lamar,” she said. “It’s our job to report the news. You know how hard it is to come up with a decent headline in this town.”

“Are you armed?” Lamar asked.

“Not at the moment.”

Lamar looked relieved. “All I can say right now is yes, we do have a body, but we don’t know anything yet.”

“Do you suspect foul play?” Mike asked.

Vera looked at him. “That has to be the dumbest question I’ve ever heard.
Of course
there was foul play. Dead people don’t bury themselves.”

Mike’s face turned a bright red.

Vera looked at Lamar. “Do you have a suspect?”

“If I did I certainly wouldn’t spill my guts to the newspaper.”

Vera gave a menacing frown. “Are you smart-mouthing me? Because if you are I’ll tell your mama and she’ll slap you from here to Texas. She didn’t raise you to talk back to your elders.”

This time when Wes looked at Max he was having just as much difficulty keeping a straight face.

Lamar glanced their way. As if sensing their amusement, he hitched his chin high and squared his shoulders. “This is police business, Vera,” he said, “and I’d appreciate it if you’d keep my mama out of it.” He gave them a stern look. “And I don’t want either of you going near the crime scene, you hear? The medical examiner will raise holy hell if he gets here and finds anything disturbed.”

Vera tapped her foot impatiently. “How am I supposed to get a picture?”

Lamar pondered it. “Tell you what. You can take a picture of me
pointing
to the crime scene.”

Vera sighed and shook her head. “It’s shameful what you’ll do to get your picture in the paper, but I guess that’ll have to do for now.” She raised the camera to her eyes and focused.

Lamar threw back his shoulders, sucked in his paunch, and gave a big smile, one arm outstretched, his index finger pointing to a small mound of dirt beside the open grave.

Vera lowered her camera. “What do you think you’re doing? I’m not taking this picture for your high school yearbook. You need to look serious.”

“Oh yeah.” Lamar frowned at the camera and waited for Vera to snap his picture. “Now, if you will excuse me,” he said, “I have work to do.” He glanced at one of his deputies. “Nobody goes near the scene,” Lamar said, cutting his eyes at Vera. The officer nodded and crossed his arms over his chest as Lamar headed toward the house.

Vera pursed her lips and looked at Mike. “If I weren’t a good Southern Baptist I’d give Lamar Tevis the finger.”

Annie blew her nose again and tossed the tissue into the wastebasket beside her bed. Jamie and Theenie sat on either side; Destiny and Lovelle stood at the foot. “I feel so guilty,” Annie said. “All this time I’ve been telling people Charles left me for another woman. I never once suspected he was dead.”

“Don’t feel guilty, sweetie,” Theenie said. “Charles probably would have left you anyway had he lived.”

There was a knock at the door. Lovelle opened it. Lamar walked into the room. His gaze immediately fell on Jamie. “Your, um, editors are outside looking at the crime scene. I’d appreciate it if you’d make sure they don’t mess with anything. You know how ornery Vera can be.”

“Mike and Vera are professionals,” Jamie said, although she knew Vera would stop at nothing to get a story, even if it meant breaking the law. And since she intimidated Mike, he would pretty much follow along. Jamie looked at Annie. “I’d like to touch base with them before they head back to the office. Will you be okay?”

Annie nodded.

Lamar waited until Jamie was gone. “Mrs. Fortenberry, I was hoping I could ask you a few questions if you think you’re up to it.”

“There’s no need to be formal, Lamar,” Annie said, offering him the closest thing she had to a smile. “Is it okay if my friends stay?”

“Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“Why don’t you grab that chair?” she said.

“Thanks.” He picked up the ladder-back chair and placed it closer to the bed. “Okay then,” he said before pulling out his notepad once more. “I understand you have reason to believe the body out back is your husband’s.”

“I’m positive.”

Lamar looked regretful. “Well then, let me offer my sincere condolences. I know this can’t be easy for you.” He paused a moment. “I’m thinking maybe we could go over what happened the day Mr. Fortenberry disappeared if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t know what more I can tell you,” she said. “We covered everything when my mother-in-law filed a missing person’s report on Charles three years ago.”

“Sometimes people think of things later that might help,” Lamar said. “I haven’t had a chance to look at the file, and I want to make sure I have everything. Could you tell me again when you saw him last?”

Annie gave Lamar the exact date. “It was around six AM,” she said. “Our conversation was brief because I was getting ready to drive to my mother’s house in Atlanta. She’d been sick with the flu, and it turned into pneumonia. I was with her for a week.”

“Did your husband appear to act differently in any way? Like maybe he was worried about something?”

“Not that I remember, but then, I was really concerned about my mom at the time, so I wasn’t paying close attention.”

Lamar nodded as he took notes. “Do you know of anyone who disliked your husband enough to kill him?”

A tear slid down Annie’s cheek as she shook her head. “I don’t know
anyone
who would actually commit murder.”

“In most cases, the killer knows the victim.” Lamar paused. “I think I need to be up-front with you, Annie. The spouse is usually the first person we look at.”

Annie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are you saying I’m a suspect?”

“Hold it right there, Lamar!” Destiny said, stepping closer, her jeweled hand on one out-thrust hip. “I happen to know a little about the law, and if you’re charging Annie with murder . . .” She paused and looked at Annie. “You need to keep your mouth shut and call an attorney.”

“I’m not charging Annie with
anything,
” Lamar said defensively, his eyes flitting to Destiny’s low-cut blouse, “but if it comes to that I’ll certainly notify her of her rights. I happen to know a little bit about the law myself.”

“I’ll answer your questions,” Annie said. “Only I’d appreciate it if you’d take down that crime scene tape as soon as you possibly can. I’m having a big wedding here.”

“Uh-oh.” Lamar arched one brow and started to make a notation in his book. “That’s going to look bad for you.”

“It’s not
my
wedding!” Annie said, wondering how Lamar could be so dense at times. She saw Destiny shake her head.

“Annie doesn’t even like men,” Theenie said. “She almost killed the last one who showed up at her door.”

“Uh-oh,” Lamar said.

“It was an accident,” Annie said, giving Theenie a would-you-kindly-shut-your-mouth? look. Theenie offered a sheepish smile. Annie explained what had happened the morning of Wes’s arrival. “Now the whole world knows,” she said.

Lamar looked thoughtful. “I know about Erdle’s drinking,” he said. “Have you ever seen him get violent?”

Annie shook her head. “Never. Besides, he wasn’t here at the time. An old army buddy from Mississippi rented a condo in Hilton Head that week and invited Erdle to join him. The guy even wrote out an affidavit on Erdle’s behalf.”

“Was anyone else in the house? Any guests?” Lamar added.

“All this happened before I turned the place into a bed-and-breakfast. Doc checked on Peaches several times while I was away, made sure she had plenty of food and water. I knew Charles wouldn’t bother; he hated that cat. But Doc said he didn’t bother stopping over until the day after I left because he knew I always put out extra.”

“Yes, I questioned Doc at the time,” Lamar said. “He claimed he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He’s so senile; if he
had
seen anything, I don’t think he would remember.”

Annie nodded. “His memory comes and goes, but he’s ninety years old, so I’m not surprised. Now, about that crime scene tape.”

Lamar looked apologetic. “I can’t take it down till we’re done. My men will be going over the area during the next couple of days, sifting through dirt looking for evidence. I can’t have folks traipsing about, disturbing the crime scene.”

“Come on, Lamar, cut me some slack here. It’s going to be bad for business.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he mumbled, although he seemed more concerned with finishing up. “I only have a couple more questions. I’ll probably find the answers in Mr. Fortenberry’s file, but I want to make sure I have the name of his dentist, and if he had any broken bones that would prove without a doubt that the, um, remains are his.”

“He saw Dr. Hensley. As for broken bones, I know he fractured his left wrist in high school playing football.”

“I assume we’ll find a wallet on him, unless he was robbed, of course. Did he carry a lot of cash on him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Any jewelry? A watch or wedding ring?”

“He claimed he couldn’t wear his wedding ring because it caused his finger to swell,” she said. Lamar didn’t see her roll her eyes at the others as he jotted the information on his notepad. “He wore a Seiko watch with a gold band that I bought for his birthday, but I don’t remember what kind of wallet he carried.”

“Anything engraved on the watch?”

“No.”

“Anything else you can think of that might help?”

“The yellow jacket with his initials, of course.”

“This is a good start,” Lamar said, closing his notepad. “If you think of something else, give me a call.”

“Do you know how long they’ll keep him?”

“I can’t say for sure, since it’s a murder case.” Lamar stood and put the chair back in its place. He continued to stand there for a moment as though he had something on his mind. “Do you have plans to travel anytime soon?”