First came pallbearers with the casket, followed by the family. Billy Ray Causby was holding Georgia upright. Without his strong arms, she no doubt would have crumbled into a heap. Sawyer and his wife and sons came next. Sawyer was stoic, with a rigid look about him. Laura Beth and her husband and children followed. Tears streamed down her face as her husband tried to comfort her. I had no right to be here observing their raw grief.
Into my frame came three-year-old Marci, my cousin. No, of course that was Sara Catherine. But the resemblance took my breath away like a gut punch.
Staff from J. Henry Stuhr’s funeral home helped the family into limousines and they pulled away from the curb. Then the ushers stepped back and the remaining mourners streamed out of the church.
The first face I recognized was Walker Nance. He must’ve been sitting near the back. He looked serious, but not particularly affected. If he was grieving, his was a private grief. Someone spoke to him and he smiled his million-dollar smile. I kept on snapping.
There were many faces I didn’t recognize, but I recorded as many as I could. After a few minutes, Grey Hamilton came out with some of the other WCSC team members. His eyes were red and he had a pallor. I’d bet plenty of people there didn’t recognize their nightly news anchor.
Not far behind Grey came a wild-eyed man clutching his hair and openly crying. He appeared somewhere in the neighborhood of forty, and was dressed simply in a plaid shirt and jeans. I snapped several photos of him, wishing I could get license plates from here. But there was no possible perch from which I could get faces and tags.
A long stream of people came out before Auggie’s face came into the frame. He was with the brunette I’d seen getting off the elevator at his apartment. I widened the shot a bit. There was the redhead. Camille, he’d called her. And two blondes. Auggie had what looked like a harem. They all seemed to be jockeying for position to hold onto him, comfort him. Auggie. Why hadn’t he told me about Trina Lynn and Walker Nance? He knew all of Trina Lynn’s other secrets. Surely he knew about her affair with the realtor.
And then there was Nate in my frame. Nate and one of the most gorgeous women I’d ever seen in my life. She was nearly as tall as him, runway thin, with platinum hair styled in a messy look that probably took a stylist to achieve. Her tailored black suit contrasted perfectly with her pale skin and red lipstick I bet her mamma never had to remind her to put on.
If I hadn’t already profiled her and knew exactly who this woman was, I’d have been fit to be tied at the way she clung to my husband—the way he allowed it. But that was Arianna English, a model and brand ambassador, wealthy in her own right. She was Darius Baker’s first ex-wife.
My phone rang, startled me. “Call from Mamma,” Siri announced.
I pressed the button on my earbuds to answer. “Hey, Mamma.” I was distracted, still busy watching a super model with her hands on Nate. Mamma can read me well.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, Mamma. Is everything all right? How’s Daddy?”
“Your father is fine. I’m losing my ever-loving mind. He was entertained by being waited on hand and foot for about two days. Now he’s bored with being stuck in the house. He says he’s feeling up to company. We didn’t have family dinner last night. It’s the first Wednesday we’ve missed in a while. Can you and Nate come this evening?”
“Sure. Six o’clock?”
“Earlier if you can make it. I—”.
Arianna ran her hand up Nate’s arm. “Mamma, I have to go.” I ended the call.
“Call Nate,” I ordered Siri.
I watched him extricate himself from her grasp to answer the phone.
“Please tell that high-dollar floozie that if she’d like to keep her hands, she’d best keep them off you.”
“Liz.”
I watched his eyes search the tree line, trying to find where I was. He scanned past me, then backed up, looked straight at me, though he couldn’t possibly have seen me. “I’m just leaving the funeral now. Ms. English needs a ride back to the Belmond. I’m going to drop her off, then I’ll meet you at the office.”
“Best not take too long,” I said brightly. “We’re having dinner at Mamma and Daddy’s at 6:00.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” I could hear the grin in his voice. He was enjoying how I had noticed Arianna pawing him.
I’d remind him of that later.
SEVENTEEN
I called Auggie Lockwood from the car and told him I needed to see him immediately. Of course he was still in the car as well, and from the sounds of it, several of his entourage were with him.
“Sure,” he said. “Come on over. I’ll be home in fifteen minutes.”
When he pulled off the Mark Clark Expressway at exit twenty-three, I was right behind him. I didn’t bother hanging back, but followed his Subaru Outback until he parked, pulling the Explorer into a spot right beside him.
I climbed out of the car, waited for him. He took his sweet time. The brunette and one of the blondes eyed me through the windows. The redhead got out of the car first, a challenge in her eyes. What was up with these women?
Finally, Auggie got out of the car. “You want to talk upstairs? I need to change.”
“Fine.” My voice might’ve held the teensiest bit of irritation.
I followed him to the elevator, not sparing a glance for his companions.
We rode up silently. I studied him. This was Trina Lynn’s best friend in the world. I knew people worked through grief differently, but he seemed quite composed for someone who’d just witnessed his best friend’s casket being wheeled out of a church.
As soon as we were inside his apartment, he removed his jacket. “Have a seat,” he said. “I’ll just be a minute.”
By the time he got to his bedroom door, he had his tie off and his shirt unbuttoned. I stopped in front of the club chair I’d sat in the day before.
He turned back towards me. “If you’d like anything, help yourself.” He wasn’t wearing a t-shirt, but stood bare chested in front of me, showing me his six-pack abs.
I blinked. Was this guy coming on to me?
“I’m good, thanks.” I kept my eyes on his, letting him know how I was completely disinterested in anything he might be offering.
He left the door open. I walked over to the patio doors that opened to the balcony and looked outside. His bevy of beauties were still by the car chatting. The brunette cast a hateful look towards the apartment. I was certain it wasn’t directed at Auggie.
He walked back into the room wearing utility shorts and a T-shirt. He sat on the sofa and gestured towards the chair. “What’s up?”
I stayed where I was, but turned to face him. “I think we established that Trina Lynn told you all of her secrets.”
He shrugged. “I guess so. I mean, I think she did, yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Walker Nance?”
He winced. “I honestly didn’t think it was important.”
“Seriously? Was she still seeing him?”
“No,” he said. “That was over a few months ago. It was…she was embarrassed by it. I thought it was history and couldn’t be related. I didn’t want to make her look bad, you know what I mean?”
“You need to let me decide what’s important. How serious was it? Did she love him?” Women who saved the cards that came with flowers were in love.
He tilted his head back and forth. “It was complicated.”
“But she was so in love with Grey Hamilton that she risked her career to date him. She must’ve been seeing both men at the same time.”
He shrugged. “She was.”
“Explain that to me, please.”
“I can’t. She couldn’t explain it to me. She said she loved both of them. I just figured, you know…monogamy isn’t for everyone.”
“Clear
ly not. But can’t you see how this makes Walker Nance and his wife both serious suspects in Trina Lynn’s murder?”
“I told you, I thought it was over.”
“Because of Julia Nance’s meltdown at a cancer benefit?”
“Who told you about that?”
“You should have. How do you not see Julia Nance as a suspect?”
“Women like that don’t kill people.”
“You can’t sincerely believe that, can you?”
“I can and I do. She has far too much to lose. So does Walker.”
“Which is what makes them excellent suspects,” I said.
“I’m sorry, I just don’t see it that way. Which is why I didn’t mention it to begin with.”
“When exactly did they stop seeing each other?”
“Right after that benefit. That was in June. Trina Lynn was afraid they’d use their influence to have her fired. Her career was the most important thing in her life.”
“And yet she risked it by dating Grey Hamilton.”
“Which is why I think she really loved him. Walker…that was just a distraction.”
“From what?”
“The fact that she couldn’t have a traditional, out in the open, dates in restaurants kind of relationship with Grey.”
“But she couldn’t go out in public with Walker either.”
“Which made him safe.”
“I understand this all makes sense to you, but I have to tell you, I find it batty and quite sad.”
He drew a deep breath. “I’ll give you that much. It was sad. I wish she’d married Grey and let the career chips fall where they may. But like I told you, she didn’t trust that he loved her. Didn’t trust that he would still love her if she stopped being Trina Lynn Causby, investigative reporter.”
“Back to Walker…how did he take it when Trina stopped seeing him?”
“It was mutual, I think. She was afraid of losing her job. He was afraid of losing all his wife’s money. They just simply never saw each other again after that blue-blood brawl.”
“You’re certain of that?”
“Yes. I’m certain. Trina would’ve told me.”
“But Julia had no way to trust that was the case, even if Walker swore it up and down. Why would she believe anything he said after he cheated on her?”
“She might not’ve believed him. I have no way to know one way or the other. But I can’t see her shooting Trina Lynn in a Charleston alley three months later.”
“And that’s exactly why she’d get away with it if she did.”
EIGHTEEN
I caught the 5:30 ferry, and just barely made it to Mamma and Daddy’s house by 6:00. Nate and I met there, arriving at the same time. He’d likely arranged it that way. We used a tracking app on our phones and smart watches to mind each other. It was a necessary precaution in our line of work. But it also came in handy on a day-to-day basis.
“Well, I’m happy to see you were able to extricate yourself from Arianna’s clutches.” I raised an eyebrow at him as we climbed out of each other’s cars.
“Now darlin’, you know very well that woman is nothing more than a client’s ex-wife to me. A source of information.”
We stopped for a kiss where the driveway met the front walk. How easy it was for him to smooth my ruffled feathers. Perhaps too easy. I pulled away, looked up at him. “I’ve had a front row seat to marital misconduct today. I may be a bit sensitive on the subject.”
From inside the house came Chumley’s—my daddy’s basset hound—earnest, mournful howl, punctuated with the occasional bark.
“Sounds like trouble,” said Nate.
“He’s probably just tired of being cooped up, with Daddy sick and all,” I said.
We continued up the path. Nate said, “You don’t seriously think I give other women a second look, now do you?”
I smiled up at him. “No. Because you know precisely how good a shot I am.”
He laughed. “I did find it interesting, her showing up at the funeral.”
“Did she say exactly why she did that?” We climbed the steps to the front porch. Chumley continued to howl.
“She did,” said Nate. “She came to town to help Darius prove his innocence. She was looking for clues at the funeral, because that’s what they do on TV.”
“Oh dear heaven. They’re all three here. At least she’s staying in Charleston.”
“She was,” said Nate.
“Where is she now?”
“She came over on the 4:30 ferry with me. Her luggage was waiting downstairs at the hotel.”
“She rode home with you?”
“It was an opportunity to talk to her. She was going to get a car service to bring her, but I figured it’d be better for her to come with me. Gave me an hour of uninterrupted interview time. She was a captive audience. Or rather I was her captive audience. And she does enjoy an audience.”
I was reaching for the door when it swung open. Nothing in my life prepared me for the sight on the other side.
“Mamma?” I gasped.
She was covered, head to toe, in pluff mud.
“Mamma, what happened?”
“Carolyn, are you all right?” asked Nate.
Chumley came running through the foyer, dragging a leash behind him. He was likewise completely coated with pluff mud. They both stank to high heaven. Chumley sat by Mamma and howled at me.
Mamma said, “Does it look like I’m all right?”
“Where’s Daddy?”
As if on cue, he called from somewhere inside the house, “Carolyn, I’ve got the hose hooked up. Come back outside and I’ll rinse you off.”
A tiny crab ran down Mamma’s arm. She jumped, shook her arm frantically. “Get if off me. Get it off me.”
“Mamma.” I gentled my tone. “Let’s go out back and get you rinsed off.”
“I need a very hot shower,” she said.
“Of course you do,” I said. “But let’s get the worst of it off outside, don’t you think?”
I soothed her back down the foyer, through the kitchen, out the back door, through the screen porch, and onto the pool deck. Daddy waited with a hose pipe with a large spray nozzle on the end.
“What in the world were you doing in the house?” asked Daddy.
“I went for help,” said Mamma.
“Help?” said Daddy. “Come over here and let me squirt you off.”
“You’re just loving this, aren’t you?” Mamma asked.
Daddy grinned. “What makes you say such a thing?”
“Oh please,” I said. “Mamma, you want me to hose you off?”
“I’ve got it.” Daddy pressed the handle on the nozzle and a fast, hard stream of water came out. He directed it at Mamma.
“Ow! Frank, that’s too hard.”
Chumley barked at Daddy.
“Hush up, hound dog. I’ll get to you in a minute.”
“Here, let me fix it.” Daddy twisted the end of the nozzle, and the spray widened into a soft shower. He sprayed Mamma’s legs. “Is that better?”
Mamma didn’t answer, but she didn’t object.
Daddy sprayed and sprayed her legs, but the pluff mud barely noticed.
“I don’t think this is going to work, Carolyn. I’m going to have to spray harder.”
“Why don’t you let me squirt you with the hose?” she said.
“I’m sick,” he said. “And I’m not covered in pluff mud.”
“Frank, maybe you should go inside,” said Nate. “You being sick and all. We can get Carolyn and Chumley cleaned up.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” said Mamma.
“No,” said Daddy. “I’ve got this.” He turned up the sprayer and squirted Mamma’s legs, adjusting until he found a pressure that was effective but d
idn’t cause her to scream.
“Dad?” Blake and Poppy came through the screened porch into the backyard, followed by Merry and Joe.
Daddy squirted Mamma in the face.
“Frank! Stop that!” she sputtered.
“We’ve got to get that mess off you,” said Daddy.
“What on earth happened?” asked Merry. “Mamma, are you okay?”
“No, Esmerelda,” said Mamma. “I am not one teeny bit okay.”
Talking distracted her from being squirted. “Mamma, tell us what happened,” I said.
“What happened,” she said through gritted teeth, “is that your father would not shut up about how his poor little hound needed to go for a walk. After being shut up in this house for ten days with him and that dog, I needed to get out of the house. So I put the dog on the leash, and we went for a nice walk. It was so nice, in fact, I walked him all the way over to Marsh View Drive.”
“That’s a long walk for Chumley,” said Blake. Chumley was plump, and not accustomed to walking much farther than a few blocks.
“We were both enjoying the fresh air,” said Mamma. “But he got tired and sat down in the middle of the road.”
“That’s too far for the hound,” said Daddy.
“He needs to be walking at least that far every day,” said Mamma. “So do you.”
“How did you get him out of the street?” asked Poppy.
Mamma stared at Poppy. “Oh dear goodness. What you must think of this family. Nearly every time you’ve been here for dinner there’s been some sort of disaster.”
“That’s not true at all,” said Poppy. “Tell us how you got Chumley to move. I’ve seen him get stubborn.”
“He does,” said Mamma. “He gets just as stubborn as an old mule.” She looked at Daddy.
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