Murder in Marietta (A Trixie Montgomery Cozy Mystery Book 2) (5 page)

CHAPTER TEN

W
e detoured into a drive-through and purchased burgers and fries. You’d have thought we’d eaten an adequate amount of grease for lunch, but we were in a hurry, and it was the only place quick enough. We finished our food in the hospital parking lot and headed toward ICU to check on Dora. Finding our way through the maze proved no easier than it had earlier that morning. We arrived a few minutes before visiting hours.

We plopped down to wait on a sofa that had seen better days and many bottoms. The cushion was so worn out I sunk lower than a worm in a wagon rut. Getting up would be next to impossible without help. I was glad Dee Dee sat beside me for more than one reason. She’s been a rock in my life. Feeling maudlin, I reached over and patted her hand. She smiled and returned the gesture.

A bevy of visitors filled the waiting room. An older couple sat huddled together in the corner. Their features were drawn, and they held hands. I wondered who they worried about - their daughter, their son, or maybe a grandchild.

An extended family, from grandma to grandkids, sat across from us. The group were obviously celebrating a loved one’s positive prognosis. According to the noise level, they were having a party – fixin’s and all. I’d watched this scene played out before in hospital emergency rooms. This throng of family are often referred to in the south as “Mama and ‘em”.

A Good Samaritan told us visiting hours started, and everyone jumped up and headed to the double doors.

“Nana, do you want me to go in with you?” I put my arm around her shoulder and squeezed.

“That would be nice, dear. You can come too, Dee Dee.”

“The sign says two visitors at a time, you and Trixie go ahead. I’ll stay here and wait on you,” Dee Dee instructed as she picked up a battered magazine.

Pleasantly surprised, we found Dora propped up, awake and talking. After we visited for a few minutes, I understood why Nana adored her. They were carbon copies. Reassured she was doing well, I excused myself to let them visit. To take our minds off more serious matters, Dee Dee and I spent the next several minutes expounding the virtues of “Mama and ‘em”.

Nana returned after the allotted time. Her eyes danced and she wore a huge grin, relieved her friend would be okay.

“She looks good doesn’t she, Nana?” She nodded in agreement. “Come on. We’ll take you back to Dora’s and we’ll go find a hotel.”

Nana’s eyes sparkled and her grin widened. “I mentioned to Dora y’all didn’t have a place to stay, and she said, ‘Nonsense! You let them stay at the house with you.’”

Tears sprang to my eyes. The thought of a quiet, relaxing place to stay thrilled my heart. Bowerman’s warning on top of Harv’s deadline mingled in my head, and I predicted we would need the extra rest for what awaited us.

Sunlight flooded my room. No! Wait a minute. This unfamiliar bedroom wasn’t mine. As the cobwebs cleared from my mind, I remembered we’d spent the night at Dora’s.

I emitted an audible groan, as I glanced at the clock and discovered it was only six in the morning. I pulled the covers over my head, not ready to face the day. Strange dreams had invaded my sleep, robbing me of a peaceful rest. During the nightmare the murder victim arose to haunt me, but when I saw his face it was that of my ex-husband, Wade. I wondered how an expert would explain that dream.

“Yooo-Hooo!”

I willed myself to sneak a peek from under the covers. Nana peered around the doorway. Her smile was way too bright this early in the morning. “Good! You’re up.”

“Do you know what time it is?” I pulled the covers back over my exposed head.

“Yep, it’s after six. I overslept; I must’ve needed that extra shut-eye. I’m making home-made biscuits for breakfast.” She sang off-key as she made her way down the hall.

I hauled my caboose out of bed, not bothering to change clothes. My jammies would do just fine for an audience with Nana and Dee Dee. Dragging into the kitchen, I noticed Dee Dee fared no better. Droopy eyed, bed-headed, pajama-clad Dee Dee sat at the table.

Dee Dee made a half-hearted effort to glance in my direction. “What are you grinning at? You don’t look any better than I do.” We took in each other’s bedraggled appearance and burst into laughter.

Nana, dressed in a summer running suit, was cute as a button. Adorned in hot pink pants with a pink tee shirt, she looked like a spring flower. I knew a matching pink jacket existed. Nana never went anywhere without a cover up, ‘just in case’. Occasionally, she even wore a matching ball cap.

She hummed a catchy tune, as she stood at the stove and cooked a full-blown southern breakfast. The mingled smells came straight from heaven. My stomach growled in agreement. Nana heaped a plate with eggs, bacon, and homemade biscuits. She sashayed over and placed the feast before me.

“Here you go, ‘shugah,’ eat up! Y’all are going to need a heap of energy if you plan to investigate the murder at the museum.”

“Nana! I told you I have no intention of getting involved. You heard Detective Bowerman warn me to butt out.”

“Well, that’s never stopped you before. Why should it now? And you have me and Dee Dee to help you.”

Dee Dee sputtered coffee at Nana’s declaration. “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe Trixie’s right. Detective Bowerman doesn’t seem like somebody you’d want to cross. Actually, he looks kind of mean to me. Those thick hairy eyebrows give me the creeps.” She wiped up the spewed coffee.

“I
know
I’m right. I don’t want to hear any more nonsense about us investigating the murder.” When she didn’t answer, I repeated. “Did you hear me, Nana?”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

N
ana turned around and looked me directly in the eyes. I was familiar with
the look
. I’ve known it since childhood, and it means I’ve definitely overstepped my boundary. She slowly, purposely laid down the spatula and placed her hands on her hips.

“Don’t take that tone with me, Missy! Yes, I heard you. I might be old, but I’m not deaf. I won’t mention the “M” word again. I thought it would be a boost for your article if you solved this murder like you did before.”
So much for not mentioning the “M” word
. “Heaven forbid I try to help again.” She turned around and continued cooking, her back straight. Even at her age, Nana kept herself in great shape.

“I’m sorry, Nana. I guess we’re all on edge. Let’s do something fun today. I don’t have the heart to work on my story, and the museum is probably off limits anyway. Let’s ride down to the square and hit some of the shops. Retail therapy always makes a girl feel better. What do you say?”

“Thanks for including me, but I think I’ll sit with Dora.”

“We could check on her first, the hospital’s not out of the way.” I took a big bite of biscuit loaded with strawberry preserves. The gooey goodness oozed out the side and fell onto my plate.

“No. I want to stay at the hospital. I feel responsible since she doesn’t have any family close by.” Nana removed empty dishes from the table.

“If that’s what you want to do. How about you, Dee Dee? Are you up for shopping?”

“Does the Pope wear sneakers?” Dee Dee giggled at her own wit.

“I think the saying goes, ‘Does the Pope pray?’ Anyway, I’ll take that for a yes. They have a lot of antique shops on the square. Maybe you can find something for Antiques Galore.”

“I’d better call Sarah and tell her I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I can’t imagine what excuse I’m going to give her. What about my babies? Heaven only knows what they’ll do without their mother. When I’m gone for more than a couple of days, they go off their feed.” She wore the worried expression of a mother extremely concerned for her children. The fact of the matter was – her concern was for her cats – not her children.

“I’m sure Stephanie will be glad to take care of them. They’ll be fine. Children are pretty resilient.” I attempted to sound as serious as possible while I stifled a grin.

“I hope you’re not being facetious, Trixie. You know how I feel about my babies. It’s not a joking matter.”

“Why don’t we video chat with them, and you can see for yourself how they’re doing.” While Dee Dee considered that, I felt a tinge of guilt myself. “Speaking of babies, I need to call Mama and tell her we’ll be staying a little longer than planned. She’s taking care of Bouncer while I’m away. And Beau. I need to call him. Not only will he be worried, but I’m afraid he’s going to be suspicious of how we wound up in another murder investigation. And if that isn’t enough, I have to keep Harv updated.” I heaved a big sigh.

“I’m sorry, Trix. But, better you than me,” Dee Dee said.

After we finished breakfast, we returned to our separate bedrooms to get ready for the rest of the day. If we’d only known what was in store, we’d have pulled the covers over our heads and stayed in bed.

Within the hour, we were at the hospital receiving good news. Dora was awake and doing better than expected, with the possibility of being moved out of ICU later in the day. Nana insisted on staying, in case they moved her. We left her with instructions to call on her cell phone if she needed anything.

The minute we stepped outside, the sunshine proved we’d been blessed with another glorious day. The sun vied for a spot in a tropical island commercial. The azure blue sky was as clear as a crystal glass. A slight breeze tickled my skin. I relished the moment, aware the luscious breeze would be replaced with thick, sticky air later in the afternoon.

I conversed silently in prayer as I inserted the key into my temperamental Jeep’s ignition and gave it a swift turn. Happily rewarded with the hum of the engine, I exhaled a sigh of relief. Shortly down the road, I decided to go-for-broke and give the air conditioner a chance, too. Semi-cool air shot out of the vents.

Dee Dee’s elation was evident as she exclaimed, “Lo and behold, miracles never cease.”

We basked in our good luck as we headed back to the Historic Marietta Town Square where a short twenty-four hours ago we experienced such a horrible day. I intentionally parked a comfortable distance from the museum.

“Come on, Dee Dee,” I said as I grabbed my digital camera.

“I’m coming. Let me get my purse.”

“Hey, can I put my wallet in your
purse
so I won’t have to take mine?”

“Sure! There’s plenty of room.”

“You’ve got that right,” I murmured.

“Admit it, Trix. It’s come in handy more than once.” She smirked, knowing she was right.

The historic square bustled with early morning tourists of every age, not to mention size and shape. A young couple strolled down the sidewalk as they held hands. Kids darted around the other tourists like they were on an obstacle course. Numerous shops surrounded the square. The historic district provided something for every taste and interest.

After you’ve shopped till you’ve dropped it’s easy to find a variety of eateries to satisfy a healthy appetite. If you want candies, hand squeezed lemonade, or a variety of desserts – whatever you heart desires – you’ll find it on the square.

My tummy voted for a break as we passed the ice cream shop. “Look! Hand spun ice cream. You get to choose the flavors, and then they’ll mix them for you. Yumm, that sounds good. Want to go in and give it a try?”

We both decided on chocolate ice cream mixed with fresh strawberries and Kahlua flavoring. The next fifteen minutes was an experience of pure bliss.

After we satisfied our sweet tooth, we meandered around the square. We discovered a quaint little shop; chock full of antiques and dust.

“Look, everything’s half-price.” Dee Dee opened the door releasing a wave of musty air.

I’d browsed for a few minutes when I heard Dee Dee – achooooooooooo! Nobody can prolong a sneeze like Dee Dee. I headed toward the peculiar sound and literally bumped into her.

“Hey, Trix, look what I found!” Dee Dee held up a book so grimy I could hardly make out the title.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I
took the book and read the title, “Capturing a Locomotive” by William Pittenger

“I think I’ll buy it and see what I can discover about the event. That is, unless you want to buy it for your research.”

“No. You go ahead. I can borrow it from you.”

She searched the other spines, her nose so close I thought she was going to kiss them. “Oh, look.” She grabbed another and pulled it out. “This one’s titled “The Marietta History Museum.” I’m going to get this one, too.”

“I’d like to read it. The museum has a rich history.”

Our purchases made, and our arms loaded down, we headed back outside into the sultry air.

Spotting a quaint little deli, we decided to stop for lunch. We chose a table where we could see the sidewalk outside while we ate a light salad. People-watching is a sport I’ve always enjoyed. As I surveyed a group of teenagers decked out with earrings, brow rings, and several other kinds of rings you could think of, my cell phone rang. Startled, I jumped off my chair like I’d received an electric shock. I answered quickly, thinking it might be Nana. “Hello!”

“Well, hello stranger! I thought you’d never call me. Oh, that’s right, I called you.” Harv guffawed, his passive aggressive comment rankling me.

“And how are you doing?” I met Dee Dee’s questioning look, mouthing “Harv.”

“Well, now that you asked, I’m not doing too good. We’re on a deadline here and I’m waiting on a first draft from you.”

I pictured him at his desk with his feet crossed on his desktop, sleeves rolled up, barking orders at poor Belinda, our receptionist.

“I’m trying. But I spent the night in a museum with a dead body. Then Nana’s friend Dora fell and broke her hip. Dora’s son is out of the country, so I feel responsible for both of them. Harv, truth be told, I’m frazzled.”

“I’m sure you are, Kiddo”--Harv’s pet name for me-- “I should be more sensitive, but I’ve got a magazine that’s losing subscribers.”

We spoke several minutes, or rather he talked and I listened. Before Harv said good-bye, he reminded me there was a story I needed to tackle. I wasn’t in any hurry to follow up on this lead – especially after Detective Bowerman warned me to keep my nose out of his business. However, the best intentions can be forgotten.

My phone rang immediately after I hung up.

“Trixie? This is Doc. I need your help. I’m in trouble!”

“What’s the matter?” My lunch churned in my stomach. Dee Dee’s recently waxed eyebrows struck a questioning arch.

“Detective Bowerman brought me in for questioning. He referred to me as a “person of interest.” Penny’s in a panic, and I’m not doing so well myself. I’m really worried.”

“Why? Have they found evidence linking you to the murder? They can’t rely on your fingerprints; they must be all over the museum.”

Dee Dee elbowed me and whispered, “What! What’s going on?”

“Shhh.” I mouthed, “I’ll tell you in a minute.”

“I’m afraid there’s more to it, Trixie. Listen, would you and Dee Dee meet me somewhere? I don’t want to talk about this over the phone.”

Dee Dee, patience not being one of her virtues, was about to pull my arm off. If curiosity
could
kill, she’d be dead.

“Plan on it and I’ll call you back if it’s not copasetic.” Dee Dee rolled her eyes at my use of the word copasetic. I rolled mine right back. “Where do you want to meet? We’re on the square close to an antique shop named Magnolia Books and Antiques.”

“There’s a café on the far corner called Tara’s. Can you meet me there in about twenty minutes?” Desperation laced his voice.

“Sure. We’ll see you in a little while.”

Trix, what did you get yourself into? Lord, help me.
My hands shook and my palms were slick with perspiration. What did Doc expect me to do? And why was he in this predicament anyway? My taut shoulders violently quivered. The call must have shaken me more than I realized. An anxious voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Hey, girl. What are you so worked up about? Whatever’s going on with Doc, you just might have to—”

“You’re not going to believe this Dee Dee. Doc was taken in for questioning. He didn’t want to explain over the phone, so he asked us to meet him in about twenty minutes.”

“We promised bushy-eyed Bowerman we’d stay out of his way,” Dee Dee said.

“My job could depend on solving this case. Meeting someone for coffee isn’t the same as crossing police tape.” Despite my brave exterior, genuine concern ushered us out the door.

A blast of steamy air hit us as we stepped outside and down the street. The sun beat mercilessly, heating the sidewalk. The temperature was on its way to hitting the nineties. Tourists looked as bedraggled as I felt. My throbbing knee forced me to move like a little old lady. It was slow going to the café. Dee Dee sensed my discomfort and slowed her pace to match mine.

Tara’s appeared as an oasis in the desert. A blast of cool air welcomed us, and the inside of Tara’s proved clean and inviting. Single roses in bud vases splashed color against white tablecloths scattered throughout the dining area. Bright blue, yellow and green accented the décor. A glass cabinet full of luscious desserts ran the length of the bar by the register.

Dee Dee and I agreed we were stressed, and everyone knows stressed spelled backwards equals desserts. We treated ourselves to a diet Coke and a slice of seven layer chocolate cake while we waited on Doc. Between decadent bites of cake we discussed the murder at the Marietta History Museum.

While we waited, I observed our fellow patrons for entertainment. I’ve been told I’m nosey, but I don’t see it that way. A writer must be observant. You never know when you might discover a story or acquire a new character.

For instance, consider the woman who just entered the door. I pegged her forty-something hoping to pass for twenty-something. Dressed in a short blue jean skirt, tube top, and white cowgirl boots, she made quite an impression. She sported blonde hair, complements of L’Oreal, and blue eye shadow applied to her entire eyelid. Think Robin Egg Blue.

I felt a jab to my shin. Dee Dee kicked me to get my attention. Doc came through the door. I waved to him and he headed over, looking awful. His hair was uncombed, and his clothes rumpled. He glanced our way and the corners of his mouth turned slightly upwards, making a feeble attempt at a smile. We scooted our chairs around to make room. He plopped down in the delicate seat and dropped his head in his hands.