I wanted the house for myself, and I hadn’t even seen most of it.
I wandered into the great room just off the eat in kitchen and instantly fell in love with the stacked stone fireplace. Sure, it was status quo in the newer north Georgia homes, but the dark bookcases attached to its sides, and the fact that the room didn’t boast a two-story ceiling gave it a comfy-cozy feeling, and the over-stuffed, over-sized, light-colored furniture focused on the fireplace really made it stand out. I searched the entire room but couldn’t find the TV.
I loved that. Loved it. I would totally give up my crime TV shows for cozy nights by the fire with a good mystery book in hand, snuggled up with Dylan and Bo.
The listing information said there was a basement, so I found the door, skipped down the steps and wa-la, the TV magically appeared, along with a plethora of kids toys all neatly stacked into built-in cabinets perfect for a young family. Off to the side was a built-in desk and craft area, what most realtors would tag a mom’s office, filled with bins for storage and supplies.
I knew I had five other properties to view, but I had a feeling I’d found my client’s home. I checked out the rest of the house, snapped a few photos and sent them via text.
As I locked up, Dylan called. “I’ve got news.”
“Is the autopsy back?”
“Not yet, but I heard from Henry.”
“And?”
“And I really shouldn’t be telling you this, but I know you’ll hear it anyway.”
“I thought you wanted me to stay out of your investigation?”
“I never said that exactly.”
“You didn’t have to say that.”
“Do you want to know?”
“Of course, I do.”
“We found fingerprints on the syringe.”
“Whose?”
Dylan sucked in a large breath. “Bobby Yancy.”
“Oh, no.”
“I have to be honest. I thought you’d respond differently.”
“I’m not a tyrant.”
“No, but you’re not his biggest fan, either.”
“Well, no, but I hate for anyone to be accused of murder. So are you going to arrest him?”
“We’re bringing him in for questioning.”
“Good, because his fingerprints on the syringe doesn’t mean he killed Carter.”
“No, but it doesn’t mean he didn’t, either, and considering his behavior the night before, he’s got motive.”
I wasn’t sure whose side I wanted to be on, and I knew I needed to make a decision. On the one hand, I wasn’t at all comfortable with Bobby’s behavior at the box lacrosse game, and I certainly didn’t like his comments to me after Carter’s death, but the man had roots in Bramblett, and he had a family to care for. Could a man with those things kill someone?
When I asked Dylan that question, his answer was emphatically yes. “His family is an absolute reason for murder, Lily. Think about it. He doesn’t have the money to get his son into college, and Bobby Jr. could get a scholarship, but Carter could have screwed that up. What’s the solution? Take Carter out of the picture. Problem solved.”
“But couldn’t there have been another way to handle that?”
“Of course, but desperation doesn’t necessarily equate to logic, especially when money and family are concerned.”
“I hate this for his family, especially his son. Bobby Jr. was visibly upset when he had to leave the game the other night. I can’t imagine how he’ll feel if his dad is arrested for murder.”
“We’re only bringing him in for questioning at this point.”
“Are there any other suspects?”
“Not yet, but we’re talking to the rest of the lacrosse parents. There’s a lot of talk about the state athletic association rules and Carter’s decision to follow them. I guess that upset a bunch of the parents.”
“Wow. Way to teach your children ethical behavior.”
“Times ain’t like they used to be, babe.”
“Guess not. I climbed into my car and clicked my seatbelt together.
“Where are you?”
“Cumming. Checking out a few properties for a client.”
“Well, if I can get out of here at a reasonable hour, I’ll stop by, but I have a feeling it’s going to be a late night.”
“I won’t expect to see you.”
We hung up, and I finished my tour of homes for my client, and though the others were lovely, none of them held a candle to the first one.
* * *
I’d barely gotten out of my car on our main street in town when Ginnie Slappey rushed at me like I was the queen bee in her hive and she just had to kiss my wings or only the Lord knew what would happen. “Oh hey there, how are you holding up with all this mess going on?”
All this mess going on? Did she mean the murder, and did she not remember how passive aggressive she’d been when we’d last talked? That was something I’d never quite adjusted to about life in a small town, even though I’d grown up in one. One minute someone was running you all kinds of ways with a verbal lashing, and the next, they’d hand-baked you an apple pie and served it to you after your daddy’s funeral. Sometimes it felt sincere and other times as fake as a prostitute reading the Lord’s Prayer in Sunday School.
Ginnie Slappey reminded me of the prostitute.
“Oh hey, Ginnie. I’m okay. How’re you?”
“Oh, I’m just a hot mess, that’s how I am. Girl, you should hear the talk goin’ round. It’s just horrible, let me tell you. Why this county’s about to bust open at the seams.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“Well, for starters, they arrested poor Bobby Yancy. Senior of course, not the boy. If they’d arrested the boy, that would just be horrible. I mean, it’s horrible they arrest his daddy and all, I know, but the boy—” she glided the tips of her fingers across the side of her cheek. “Heavens, that would just be terrible, you know?”
I wasn’t quite sure if that was a real question, so I just nodded and said, “Em hmm.”
“Anyway.” She flung her hand at me. “It’s just a mess, what’s happening now. Word is that sheriff boyfriend of yours has gone and talked to the state athletic association, and they’re going to cancel our lacrosse program until they get this mess figured out. Can you believe it? Now Lily, what’re you going to do about this?” She crossed her arms over her chest and gave me a death stare that bore through me with such pithy disdain I about crawled back into my car and sped back to my dream house in Cumming.
This mess?
Millie charged through her café doors with a rolling pin swinging back and forth like she’d lost her ever-lovin’ mind. I held my hands over my head and ducked for cover behind my car door. When she saw me, she raised the baking tool up level with her face and examined like it was the first time she’d seen the thing. “Oh for heaven’s sake, Lily Sprayberry. What do you think I’m goin’ to do, hit you over the head with this thing? Why I’d sooner hit Miss Slappey here for spreading that foul gossip of hers than your precious face.”
Ginnie had her back to Millie, but you can bet she’d turned around to run right then, and faster than I’d thought she could in that pair of cheap stilettoes, too. I half expected her to break an ankle when she teetered off the curb and went sailing toward the ground, her arms flailing in front of her to try and soften her fall on the cement sidewalk and blacktop road. It wasn’t funny really, but there was a part of me—a small, catty part—that thought it might have appeared humorous to onlookers. I had a feeling I’d be apologizing for that thought when my time came.
Her ankles survived, and luckily, my body broke her fall on the way down, but the heel on one of those cheap stilettoes of hers didn’t make it, snapping off with a sharp pop.
“Oh heavens, that was an expensive pair of shoes,” she said.
Millie picked up the broken heel and examined it with a narrowed, critical eye. “Sure don’t look like it to me. Think I saw these
up at the Walmart last week.”
Ginnie snatched it from Millie’s hand. “I’ll have you know I paid good money for these shoes, thank you. Now, I do not appreciate you saying I’m spreading gossip. You take that back.” She smoothed out the wrinkles in her pants as she tried to balance herself on one heel.
Millie moved a fly away from Ginnie’s now half up and half down bun, and Ginnie whacked her hand away, teetering off balance again on her one heel. I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing out loud. Whether my eternity was cursed to a burning pit for being catty or not, that right there was funny.
“What you’re spreading is silly old gossip, and it’s hurtful, Virginia Slappey, and you know it. Why, if your mother was alive, she’d tan your hide with a switch the size of a River Birch tree, and you know it. Shame on you.” Millie poked Ginnie on the arm and said, “Shame. On. You,” again.
Oh my.
Ginnie grimaced. “But I heard—”
“You heard no such thing. You heard what ifs, and that’s all you heard.” Millie smiled at me. “You want something to drink, Lilybit? It’s on the house.”
I nodded. “Sounds wonderful, Millie. Thank you.”
Ginnie gathered herself. “I can always get my coffee at the QuikTrip. They’ve got several different flavors, you know.”
“You go on now and do that,” Millie said.
I shut my car door and walked into the café with Millie. When the door closed behind us, I snuck a peek outside. Ginnie Slappey’s mouth was maybe an inch from the ground, she was so flabbergasted at the way Millie had just treated her, and her eyes were bigger than coffee cup saucers. I was quite shocked at the whole event too, but proud of Millie for standing up for truth, justice, and well, my boyfriend.
I leaned my head onto her shoulder. “Thank you, Millie.”
She wrapped her arm around me. “Wasn’t nothing, little girl. Your momma would have done the same. Bramblett County folk stand up for what’s right. At least the ones that know what’s right.”
“What was she talking about? I just spoke to Dylan. He didn’t mention anything about talking to the athletic association, or arresting Bobby Yancy.”
She shrugged. “A bit ago a few of the booster club parents were in here having a meeting. I didn’t hear it all, but I guess some of them are worried. Word is a few of the kids don’t have the grades to play that game, and Carter’s death has caused the association to take notice, so I guess there’s worry of the association people coming to meet with the school, and maybe even talk to your boyfriend.” She stepped behind the counter. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Oh, just a regular coffee is fine, thank you. I just spoke to Dylan, and he didn’t mention anything about that.”
She poured my coffee into a to-go cup but left the lid off so I could add my fixings. I handed her a five dollar bill. She refused it.
“I said it was on the house.”
“And I appreciate that. This is called a tip. You do know what a tip is, right?”
She rolled her eyes and stuffed the bill into the large glass jar on her counter with a label that read, tips for exemplary service only, please. “Thank you.” Her tone was genuine and kind.
“You’re welcome. Thank you for the coffee and the other stuff.”
She leaned toward me, flicked her eyes toward a table with two women I recognized from the community sale at the school, and whispered toward my ear. “You going to call your S-O and see if it’s true?”
I whispered back. “My S-O?”
“You know, you’re significant other.”
“Oh. Yeah, I’ll give him a call.”
“Good. Keep me in the loop then, will ya? Us criminal justice warriors got to stick together.”
“Criminal justice warriors?”
“Bonnie’s grandson Nicholas called me something like that a bit ago. Said people that want to help others are social justice warriors, but when he showed me what that meant on the world wide web, it had some negative connotations, so I decided to switch it up a touch. I figured I’m more of a criminal justice warrior. It’s kind of a do-gooder for the betterment of keeping Bramblett County safe.” She winked at me. “Like you.”
A criminal justice warrior. Huh. I nodded. “I like that, Millie. I like that a lot.”
She smiled. “I do, too.”
I headed toward the door after I’d added some half and half to my coffee. “Thanks again, Millie.”
Belle typed away on her laptop when I arrived back at the office. “Find anything worthy of our client’s money?”
“I did, and I want it, too.”
“Let me guess, white house, wide stepped porch, open floor plan.”
I unpacked my bag and placed my laptop on my desk. “You just get me so well.”
“It sounds like the perfect bed and breakfast house.”
“In the middle of a subdivision in Cumming, Georgia? I doubt that.”
Her cell phone rang. “Saved by the cell phone.”
Lucky me, I thought. I organized my to-do list, and though it wasn’t work related, gave follow up with Dylan a star for priority status and got right to it.
He answered on the first ring.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Are you planning to talk to the state athletic association?”
“Word travels fast in this town, doesn’t it?”
“So, that’s a yes?”
“Shouldn’t you be at work doing what it is you do best?”
“I am, actually.”
“If you’re going to continue to involve yourself in my investigation, will you at least abide by some basic guidelines I set for you?”
I shrieked and jumped in my seat. Belle covered her phone and asked if I was okay. I nodded. “I’ll do whatever you ask. I’m a criminal justice warrior, at your service, Sheriff.”
“First, don’t ever call yourself that.”
“Party pooper.”
“Second, when I tell you to stay out of something, I mean it.”
“Yes, sir.” Mostly.
“I know I’m going to regret this.”
“Said no one, ever, when they go into business with me.”
“So, is it true? Are you meeting with the state athletic association?”
“Sort of. They’re coming to review the practices at the school. I guess they received an anonymous call about Carter’s death. They want to talk to me, but since this is an active investigation, I’m not able to share much with them at this time.”
“Oh, pulled the sheriff card, I see. Clever.”
“Not clever, Bean. True.”
“So, are you actually meeting with them?”
“I said I’d make myself available, but haven’t heard back.”
“Got it. I guess there was a big discussion about this at Millie’s.”
“The parents are getting heated. Keep your ears open. If you hear anything, please let me know.”
Ah, I knew exactly why he wasn’t pushing me to stay out of his investigation. “Now, I get it. You want to use me as a mole, don’t you?”
“You have a certain set of skills, I’ll give you that.”
“You are so making me dinner this weekend.”
“Deal.”
“They said you arrested Yancy. Is that true?”
“Not yet, but looks like we are heading that direction.”
“Word travels fast around here.”
“He’s got means and motive, so it’ll likely happen.”
“Keep me posted.”
“I’ll do my best.”
I promised I’d keep him up to date on what I could find out and got back to work.
Minutes turned into hours, and before I knew it, Bo’s day care was fixing to close. I rushed to gather the rest of my work, stuffed it haphazardly into my bag, and made a beeline for the door and down the street to my car. I got to day care just seconds before being charged a late fee. Much like children’s day cares, if dog owners were late to pick up their do
gs, they were charged five dollars per minute. Per minute. I’d yet to be fined, but I’d nearly missed hearing the buzzer sound by mere seconds several times, so I said a prayer of thanks every time I skated in the door and heard the lock click behind me just as that loud buzzing sound vibrated in my ears.
The day care manager, a squatty young woman who always smelled like a mixture of sweaty dog, kibble and unfortunately for all of us, dog poop, stood up from behind the front counter. She wasn’t much taller than the shoulder high counter, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her because I wasn’t even five feet five inches tall, and I could barely see her over the counter top. She called herself a garden gnome, and I kind of understood why.
“Hey Miss Lily, I swear Bo knows when you’re on your way. He’s been hanging up by the door for the last few minutes.”
Just then he barked.
“Told ya.”
She opened the door and my sloppy, drooling mess of love bounded over and pounced at me, his mammoth sized paws nearly taking me to the ground. “Hey big guy, how’s my boy?” I rubbed his ears, which were level with my eyes. “Did you miss your momma today?”
He draped his tongue across my face and then gave me another lick downward, lapping the underside of his tongue over my nose. The slimy texture of his under tongue always grossed me out.
“Thanks for that, buddy.” I wiped my face with the back of my hand. “Appreciate it.”
I paid the forty bucks for a full day of play, shared a few laughs about his desire to befriend the newbie girl in town, Blossom, and we headed out to run some errands; first to get some groceries, then home for some fresh bought food and a night in front of my favorite crime shows.
Only things didn’t work out quite the way I’d planned.
Chapter 5
Seven women had blocked my entrance onto my front porch when I arrived home, and the leader of the pack was none other than Ginnie Slappey.
Signed, Sealed and Dead Page 6