by Kate Young
Eddie put a glass of water on my bedside table. “You want me to close the curtains?”
“No. Crack the door a little so I can hear the waves. It soothes me.” I’d missed my bedroom decorated in a mixture of soft blue, periwinkle, and hints of green. I pulled the soft blue-and-white paisley comforter up to my chin. According to my discharge papers, I wasn’t to sleep for long spurts, but I could have a few hours at a time, and I planned on taking advantage of them. Doc Tatum would be by to check on me frequently to make sure I didn’t develop any other symptoms.
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
“The screen door locks. Mr. Wrigley enjoys sitting by it at night.” When Eddie didn’t move toward the door, I gave up with a sigh.
“I wasn’t worried about your odd cat.” Eddie ran his hand through his graying blond hair and stared at me as if I were in a coffin and he’d been responsible for my death. “Marygene, I . . .”
“Don’t. This isn’t your fault.” I shook my head; the idea he kept blaming himself worried me. “You’re not all-knowing, and you’ve never had to deal with bombs before. And hopefully you never will again. I’m okay and so is Betsy.” Thank God.
“There’s no excuse. I should have checked under the vans.” The lines on Eddie’s face appeared to have deepened, and I could tell he was taking this personally. I needed to talk to Mama in the worst way. Under the circumstances, it felt extremely odd she hadn’t made an appearance. The way she told it, her job wasn’t to simply help me when I needed it with the departed but also to try and keep me safe when my life was in danger.
“Listen, I’ve been thinking about it. This whole thing could have been orchestrated to create a diversion. Take out the sheriff’s daughter and the killer could drive right out of Peach Cove and onto Cove Ferry, landing in Savannah before anyone was the wiser.”
“I thought of that. And there’s something else. There must have been some holy intervention because we found a bomb on the underneath side of Paul’s van as well.”
“What?” I pushed up in the bed. Paul hadn’t said anything about it when he visited me in the hospital. I’d expressed my gratitude, and he immediately insisted he’d done what anyone would do in that situation. He seemed embarrassed by the attention, which was a different side to him I’d not seen before.
“It didn’t detonate. Whoever installed it must have been in a hurry and screwed up the wiring. We’re having a former colleague of mine that works for the bomb squad in Atlanta take a look at it. It’ll be a few weeks before we know more.”
With this new development, I wondered if Mama had intervened on Paul’s behalf. It made sense. Paul survived and then he saved Betsy and me. But that also meant no one had checked under Paul’s van either. This looked bad. Especially if Paul made noises about it, and the man was a stickler for details.
“How’s Alex?” Surely, after all this, his mother no longer suspected Betsy or me.
“Dealing. The boy’s been through it. He’s lost his wife and unborn child on his wedding day.”
“Still no sign of Lucy or um, her body?”
Eddie gave his head a shake. “We have a few leads. Nothing that has panned out so far.”
The weight of the predicament nearly suffocated me. I hated that Alex was in pain. Hated it. And as much as I’d not been a Lucy fan, she certainly didn’t deserve her fate. I thought of Jena Lynn’s little bundle of joy and a sob nearly overtook me. Eddie handed me a Kleenex from the box on the vanity in my en suite. “Thank you. Do you think someone came after Lucy from her past? We hardly know anything about her.”
“It’s possible. We’ve been looking for an unidentified man who rode in on a Harley. From guests’ accounts, he wore wraparound sunglasses and kept his distance and never joined the other guests.” He patted my leg. “I’m going to let you get some rest. Lindy will be by in an hour or so. She’ll stay the night.”
“That’s so nice of her. You picked a good one, Eddie.”
He smiled a little before his face took on his sheriff look. “Now I don’t think you’re in any real danger. With both vans rigged, the diversion idea makes the most sense. Still, either I or Javier will periodically do sweeps of the house until I’m satisfied there isn’t a shred of a threat.”
“Alex now believes she passed away, right?”
“He still holds out hope. Even though, according to the Gaskin boy, she didn’t have a pulse.” Eddie raked his hand over his mouth. “It’s a puzzler.” He leaned down and gave me a light kiss on the head. “Get some rest. And stay put until Lindy gets here.”
“Okay. Drive safe.” My eyelids grew heavy and the space next to me vibrated. Mr. Wrigley and I had formed a bond since I’d taken him in from Tonya, Peach Cove Sheriff’s Department’s receptionist, the summer before last. She’d had a family emergency and the situation was supposed to be temporary. When I first saw the senior cat with his gray fur that stood up with static electricity and his one white eye, it hadn’t been love at first sight on either of our parts. Now, the little guy and I had grown together through our trials. Both of us wore our battle scars from life proudly. We understood each other’s trust issues and had found a kinship. When Tonya returned home, she didn’t have the heart to separate us, and now, here we were. My hand moved across the blankets and I stroked his furry head. “Night, Mr. Wrigley.”
* * *
The next morning, to my surprise, I felt worlds better. The nausea had subsided a great deal and my head was a dull ache. Nothing Tylenol wouldn’t fix. The bruising and body aches were probably going to hang around for a while. Every time the soreness on my breastbone became apparent, I thanked my lucky stars I was alive to feel it. I’d called out to Mama for several minutes, really needing to discuss things. By the inconsistency of her responses, it wasn’t clear if she ever heard me when I called, and I wished I had some surefire way of reaching her when I needed to. This whole island-spirit business needed to be revised. For the living person attached to the spirit, it was highly inconvenient on more than one level, and when the person wanted to reach the spirit, we had no pull. There should be comment cards or something. I’d fill that sucker out in a heartbeat.
Jena Lynn had come by with Olivia while Doc Tatum—well, Lindy—had been here and brought me some cheesy potato soup, my favorite. Sam called to see if I needed anything, which was nice. Yvonne had called after him. Her mama had informed her of my accident when they last spoke.
Despite the last couple of days, my friends and family gave me a warm sense of being blessed beyond measure. I wasn’t on the schedule to work until tomorrow morning, and I decided to luxuriate over my morning brew. I had my coffee on the back deck, staring out at the waves crashing on the sandy beach, and called Betsy. She answered on the fifth ring with a grunt.
I kept my tone low. “Head still pounding?”
“It’s not too bad. What time is it?” I heard the rustling of sheets.
“Eleven. I haven’t slept this late in eons. You heard anything from Aunt Vi or Meemaw about Alex?” I set my mug down beside me.
“Yeah. Meemaw said he went from meltdown to madder than a hornet faster than she could turn around. He’s frustrated with the lack of progress on the case.”
“That’s understandable.” I stood and stretched my aching muscles.
“Yeah. It is. But what’s got everyone in a tizzy is the hissy fit he threw last night. He seemed to be adjusting, having a hunk of Meemaw’s prune cake and a beer, when your dad called. When he got off the phone, it all hit the fan and he swore a blue streak before he stormed out the front door.”
“Was he angry with Eddie or the situation?”
“Both, I guess. Eddie’s name was dropped a few times in not-so-glowing terms. And yours too.”
“I bet it’s because Eddie won’t let him work this case. He’s probably lashing out at the world. I should try and call him.” The thought of Alex being alone with his pain tore me up.
“I wouldn’t.” The way she sounded told m
e Alex must’ve said some dreadful things about me. “Let him cool off. He’ll turn up when he’s ready. He didn’t seem all that tore up about our accident either. He shouted at Meemaw, ‘They’re alive, aren’t they. Lucy could be dead!’ ”
“Oh.” I inspected my herb bed for weeds. Alex must be on edge if he shouted at Meemaw. Alex wasn’t a disrespectful guy. It made me even more determined to reach out. Plus, he may know more than he thinks he does. Like who might have been hanging around Lucy before she died, and if she said anything that might clue us in on what the heck was going on. “I’ll tread lightly.”
“Of course you’re not going to leave it alone.” She sighed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m going to hop in the shower ’cause I feel disgusting, and then I’m going to run to the diner for some food. I don’t have anything in this house, and I’m off till tomorrow.”
“Same. I’ll meet you there.”
The second she hung up, I phoned Alex. It went to his voice mail. “Hey, it’s me. I . . . I know we haven’t been on the best terms, but please know I care about you. I’m here if you need me.”
An hour later, the tinkling of the bell above the familiar door and the married aromas of all the food being either fried, scattered, or smothered gave me comfort as I entered my home away from home. The Peach Diner was decorated in a fifties motif with its black-and-white checkered floor tile that offset the peach vinyl booths and chairs with a white stripe down the center. The long counter, where I’d spent many years of my life doing homework, ran the length of the room and was fitted with eighteen high chairs. It was completely full this afternoon.
Betsy waved to me from the back booth. I glanced at the walls adorned with old photographs of the town and townspeople, with the back wall dedicated to Peach Cove’s high school football team. I passed the framed image of Alex and me in high school and sighed. My sister hurried out of the kitchen to replenish the displayed pastries. When she noticed me, she shot me a scolding grimace.
She’d given me strict instructions last night to stay in bed today. “What are you doing here?”
I snatched a napkin from the holder on the counter and waved it. “I’m here for nourishment. Don’t shoot on sight.”
“Fine. But you should be in bed. I’d have sent someone over with food.”
“I know. You’re the best. I just had to get out of the house. I’ve been in bed for days.”
She relented with a grin. “I can understand that. Still, be careful and don’t push yourself to recover too quickly. It takes as long as it takes.”
“Promise.” I held up two fingers in scout’s honor as I passed by her. Not that I’d even been a scout.
“Hey, Bets.” I slid into the booth and snatched a fry from her plate. “How’s the head?”
She shrugged and chewed on her Sam’s Surf and Turf burger. It couldn’t be too bad the way she was devouring her food and slurping down a peach milkshake. “Sorry. I couldn’t wait. You took forever.”
“No worries.” I snagged another fry.
Rebecca came over and gave me a hug, her sweet, young face full of sympathy. “We prayed for you and Betsy at my prayer group last night.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at her. “Keep it up. We can use all the prayers we can get.”
Betsy nodded in agreement since her mouth was full.
“My nanny said she’d never seen anything like what happened at that wedding, in all her days.”
I wouldn’t suspect anyone had. We all three shook our heads mournfully.
“What can I get you?”
“I’ll have a potato waffle, two eggs over easy, and a side of bacon. Coffee to drink.”
She jotted down my order, placed it on the wheel for Sam, and went to see to her other tables.
Betsy took a second to breathe between bites. “I should’ve gotten a potato waffle instead of these fries.” She finished off her milkshake, slurping loudly as Rebecca placed a fresh cup of coffee and a couple of creamers in front of me.
“I think I’ll get a slice of key lime cheesecake and a cup of coffee. No hurry, though. I see your section is full.”
Rebecca smiled. She and Betsy had become good friends.
“I’m on it.” She pre-bussed the table and went about her business.
“I’ve decided I’m not going to worry about stupid things like dieting no more. Livin’ through a near-death experience changed me. Think about it.” Betsy wiped her greasy hands on a napkin. “We worry about the dumbest things. Stress about stuff that, in the grand scheme of life, makes absolutely no difference. This here’s the new-and-improved Betsy. I’m taking life by the cahonies and juggling those suckers.”
I nearly spat my coffee at her word picture as someone tapped me on the shoulder from the booth behind me. As I sputtered and turned, I saw Miss Sally dining with her twin sister, Miss Glenda. Both ladies were shaking their curly permed heads with the corners of their mouths turned downward.
“We heard about your car accident, dear. Sister and I were so happy to hear that you and sweet Betsy were okay. Gotta get those brakes checked real regular-like. The whole car really. You never know when you got a belt loose or a leak somewhere.” Miss Sally patted my back, her wrinkled lips pursed. “You poor girls. Y’all gotta think about these things when you ain’t got a man around.”
“That’s right, Sister,” Miss Glenda chimed, putting down her coffee mug. “We know all about having to fend for ourselves. You gals need any advice, feel free to stop by the house. We’ll have us a glass of iced tea and sit a spell on the front porch. We had a new ceiling fan installed last week. Puts off a nice breeze.”
The old ladies scooted from their booth with their ticket and dropped a couple of singles and a few coins on the table. The sisters always tipped exactly twenty percent.
“Thank you, ma’am. We’ll certainly keep your offer in mind.” I smiled and Miss Sally pinched my cheek lovingly.
As they left, I turned back around to Betsy, her mouth agape. “I can’t believe it. You know what that means, don’t you?”
“Yeah, they think we’re going to be old maids like them. The nerve!” Betsy folded her arms.
“No, you nutcase. It means the word spreading about our accident doesn’t include the”—I lowered my tone and leaned in—“bomb.”
Rebecca walked up with her tray laden with our food. Betsy and I sat back as she placed our plates on the table.
“Thanks so much. Looks like you’re going to have a day of good tips.” I picked up my fork.
“Yeah, we’ve been slammed.”
The door chimed and another crowd was coming in just as the counter and booths were emptying.
“I’ll check back.”
“No need. If we need anything else, we’ll get it ourselves. If things get too desperate, give me a shout. I could take a table or two for you.”
“Jena Lynn would kill me. Besides, she’s helping out on the floor when she’s done in the back.”
As if on cue, my sister came out of the kitchen and began filling mugs with coffee and scooping up ice in cups for drinks.
“Great. She finished in the kitchen early.” Rebecca had a bounce in her step as she left us.
“You see what I’m saying?” I took a bite of the deliciously crispy waffle, topped with cheese, chives, and bacon. Comfort food at its finest. I couldn’t help the groan that escaped.
Betsy grabbed her fork and dug into my plate. “I just want a bite. Yum.” She chewed. “Now that you mention it, Alex didn’t know about the bomb either. And that’s beyond weird. I mean, I guess since he’s all torn up about Lucy and they haven’t kept him in the loop, he wouldn’t know. Well, unless Aunt Vi told him.”
“Did she?”
“She didn’t say she did.”
I pondered this for a minute and another interesting fact hit me. “Has anyone even mentioned Lucy? By name? The twins didn’t say a word and Rebecca seemed concerned about our accident.”
Betsy appeared thoughtful
and then shook her head. “No one other than Aunt Regina and Alex, of course.”
“The few people I ran into on the square before I came into the diner didn’t say anything about Lucy specifically. Most of the talk was about our accident. In fact, Bonnie said the ordeal was quite a show and you never know about outsiders.” Bonnie Butler owned the boutique next door to the diner and the senior was always a source of breaking news and island gossip.
Bonnie’d been in such a hurry she hadn’t elaborated as she normally would’ve. Her daughter had opened her boutique for her, and Bonnie expressed her annoyance at the change in the window display. I hadn’t paid much attention to her meaning. Or my assumption of her meaning, anyway.
“Dude.” Betsy swallowed a bite of cheesecake.
“Enough with the dudes.” I sipped from my mug.
“You don’t like it? Not even a little bit? It’s like we’re in high school again.”
I raised my brows. “Not even the tiniest bit.”
“Fine. I’ll can the dudes. Back to Lucy. I guess folks just didn’t like her none. I mean, why would they? She was horrible.”
“I believe it’s more than that. They don’t think it’s one of our own who committed the crime. I mean, look around.”
We both surveyed the dining room. We received several waves and well wishes from those who took notice. Not a single person appeared to be rattled or upset by what happened. Betsy started humming The Twilight Zone theme song.
I finished my meal and dropped a ten on the table for Rebecca; the girl could use a mood lifter for her efforts. Then I went around the counter to have a word with Jena Lynn. She was busy. I couldn’t help myself as I rushed into the kitchen, gave my hands a wash in the employee sink, and jumped in to help. After the customers at the counter were served and their mugs full, I asked my sister about customer chatter. She’d had the same experience I had.
“I thought it was odd no one mentioned Lucy, other than a few folks saying horrible things like Alex dodged a bullet and it was too bad they didn’t get any cake.”