Sweet Murder

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Sweet Murder Page 9

by Tegan Maher


  "Don't forget the women he was constantly hitting on," I added. "There are bound to be some irate husbands and boyfriends out there. For that matter, the women aren't off the hook, either." I thought about what I'd learned about murder while I was in college—and of course from crime shows. "I wish I would have overheard what killed him. That might have helped us narrow it down a bit. My guess is poison, since nobody strangled or shot him right there in plain sight, but was it a one-time thing, or something he ate in small doses over time?"

  Raeann considered that. "Poisoning probably points to a woman. A man would have taken a more direct route."

  I hated to think it, but if it was poison, statistics pointed the finger squarely at Anna Mae. "You're probably right. Thankfully, it's somebody else's problem. I, for one, think we should get a fund going to build a statue in honor of the stand-up citizen who did it."

  "Amen. How did the whole motorcycle conversation go last night?"

  I sighed and relayed the details.

  "Bless her heart. I can't imagine how horrible it must be for her. Speaking of, did y'all set a date for Shelby's testing with Camille last night?"

  I chased the last bite of my pastry with coffee before answering. "She didn't show up, which is completely not like her. Shelby was upset, because now that she knows there may be a way to find out what's going on with her, she's all about it. I called her, but it went straight to voicemail."

  "You could always call the council office."

  "No," I said, shaking my head. "I don't know if the offer is official. It seemed a little like she was stepping off the rails with it and I don't want to get her into trouble if that's the case."

  "True. She'll turn up. She was probably pulled away on a case and just forgot to call you."

  "I sure hope so." Other than Camille, the council members were hardcore when it came to rule-breaking; there were no gray areas. The law was the law, and the punishment was the punishment.

  I took the last swallow of my coffee and thought about the great exploding candy dish, and Shelby's screw-up at the lake. The idea of dealing with the council without Camille as a buffer sent chills of fear down my spine.

  I WAS RESTOCKING THE pastries an hour or so later when a middle-aged gentleman wearing pressed slacks and a button-down dress shirt walked in. His black shoes gleamed and his watch glittered with diamonds. He definitely wasn't from around here.

  I smiled and waved him in, then motioned toward the coffee board and pastry case, rattling off the specials. I washed my hands at the mini sink before heading up to take his order.

  He smiled up at me, showing teeth so white they set the standard for the tissue test. He ordered, then sat down at a table in front of the window.

  I made his coffee then pulled his banana-nut muffin out of the case, plopped it onto a dessert plate, and took both to him. I gave him the standard let me know if you need anything spiel, then turned to walk away. He stopped me before I could. "Do you by chance know where the Flynn farm is?"

  "I do," I replied, wondering why he was asking about the farm. "That would be my place. What can I do for you?"

  He furrowed his brow, baffled. "My name is Gary Wilkenson. I'm a real estate investor. I spoke with a gentleman at a conference in Atlanta several weeks ago, and he said the property was in a prime location for a gated community and that it was in the preliminary stages of development."

  I immediately thought back to my conversation with Hank and my blood began to boil. That was why he'd wanted my place.

  "Did this gentleman happen to be a middle-aged, paunchy redneck? Dirty-blond hair, about six feet tall?"

  "Well no. In fact, he was quite polished and professional. He was tall, but had dark hair and was in his early thirties, if I had to guess. I'm afraid I lost his business card, but I remembered the name of the farm because my mother's maiden name was Flynn.

  "I only talked to him for a few minutes," he continued, "but he was trying to garner financial support for development of the property. I came down to Keyhole Lake to meet some friends for the barbecue competition and figured I'd check it out while I was here."

  "I'm glad you didn't waste your time on a special trip then, Mr. Wilkenson, because you were obviously misinformed. My place isn't available."

  He looked incredibly disappointed. "Well, if you change your mind, I'll be in town through next Monday. Just call me. It's odd, because I was under the impression the young man was already in possession of the property, or soon would be. He even showed me preliminary contracts and applications for re-zoning and building permits."

  "I assure you, it wasn't under my direction. Let me give you my number. If you see this person around town, would you mind calling me?"

  "Of course."

  I found it hard to believe Hank would work in conjunction with somebody other than his own thugs because he'd have to share the profit, but this was too complex for him. The permits had his fingerprints all over them though, so he was involved on some level. I needed to talk to Hunter about who applied for them.

  Chapter 12

  I

  didn't have much time to think about it after that, because the breakfast rush hit. We were busy for a Monday, and the primary topic was, of course, Hank. Everybody speculated on who finally sent him to his maker, but nobody seemed particularly sorry he was gone. As a matter of fact, there was almost a holiday atmosphere in the shop.

  By the time ten o'clock rolled around and we finally slid into the slump between breakfast and lunch, Raeann and I had added at least a dozen more names to the who wanted to kill Hank list.

  The bell over the door chimed, and Violet strolled in and took a table by the front window.

  "Hey, Noelle. Raeann. How's business?"

  "It's good. Coffee? Are you hungry?" I pointed to the soup and sandwich menu. "Rae made the most amazing chicken salad this morning, with grapes and pecans in it."

  "I'm waiting on Will, but we're definitely eating. I've been at the salon while he was doing some routine appointments this morning. How are things going with the farm?"

  "Great, actually. We're getting a routine going, though we miss Adelaide." It was hard to pull that off since she was right there, but it was still partially true. She was there in spirit form, but I'd never be able to hug her or eat her blueberry pancakes again.

  The thought made me sad, and it must have shown.

  "I'm so sorry, Noelle. I didn't mean to bring up bad feelings."

  "No, it's okay. Thanks for asking." It occurred to me that before she'd moved here, she'd worked in real estate somehow. Maybe she'd know about this guy.

  "Weren't you a real estate agent in Atlanta?"

  The question seemed to startle her. "Yeah, but that's kind of outta the blue. What's up?"

  I pulled the investor's card out of my pocket. "Do you know this guy? He came in this morning and asked for directions to the farm."

  I related the details of the conversation with her as she studied the card.

  "That is weird. I don't know him, but I know of him. He's one of the biggest investors in Georgia. I only sold houses, so he was way above my pay grade, but to be honest, I can see why your farm would be tempting to him."

  I took the card back from her and shoved it into my apron. "Why? I mean, I know why it's valuable to me, but it's in the sticks in a town that's not even on the map unless you zoom clear in. What good is a little horse farm in the middle of nowhere to a big shot like him?"

  She laughed and shook her head. "You have to realize they don't see it that way. That's prime real estate they can develop into vacation getaways. People would spend a few million an acre if the right house was on it."

  She accepted the coffee Raeann had made, and stirred it, thinking. "To be honest, I'm surprised somebody hasn't already made you an offer on it. You have what? Two hundred-plus acres out there? To get ahold of that much land at once would be an investor's dream, especially if they could buy it in one chunk at current market value. Shoot, they'd probabl
y gladly pay you double or even triple what it's worth as it sits."

  My head about exploded as I did the math. She was talking about mind-boggling numbers, but the thought of selling the farm, especially to somebody like that, made me sick to my stomach.

  "I've had several offers on it since Adelaide passed, but I've turned them all down. None were anywhere near the amounts you're discussing, but I would have still declined. I know it sounds crazy, but there's not enough money on the planet to buy that place from me."

  She sighed and patted me on the hand. "I understand, sugar, but you may want to at least think about it. Anyway, that's who he is." She looked thoughtful. "Are you sure he didn't remember the name of the man he talked to?"

  "He said he didn't remember, but he's in town for a few days for the competition and said he'd call me if he saw him."

  "Oh. Well, good luck, then," she said absently, picking up her phone.

  I stocked the condiment bar, preparing for the lunch push. Just as I was finishing up, Hunter strolled through the door.

  "Hey, stranger," I said, disgusting myself with how sappy I knew my smile was. "How's everything going?"

  He shook his head. "Apparently, I've been designated the interim sheriff until the council can arrange a special election." He heaved a sigh. "They dumped this entire mess right in the outsider's lap."

  "It's not like you didn't see that coming. I'm just surprised his nephew didn't fight for it. Slimy little brown-noser."

  "Oh, he did. It took the council about thirty seconds to tell him he was lucky he still had a job, at least for now. Apparently now that Hank's out, they're planning to clean house."

  Raeann snorted. "Well, it's about time. I'm sorry it all landed in your lap, though."

  Hunter sighed. "Believe me, not as sorry as I am. Can I get a double-shot mocha latte? I have both Anna Mae Doolittle and Cheri Lynn Hall coming to the office in just a few minutes. Anna Mae's picking up Hank's death certificate and personal belongings. I don't know what Ms. Hall wants, but she insisted it had to be today. Anna Mae's coming at ten thirty and Cheri Lynn is coming at eleven."

  I gaped at him. "You scheduled the dead guy's wife and girlfriend to be in the same place at almost the same time? Are you high? What if they run into each other?"

  "They won't. I just have a couple of questions for Anna Mae so it won't take long. They've co-existed this long and I don't have time to pander to them. I have interviews all over town this afternoon. Besides, it's at the courthouse. You know, that place where we keep the jail? They won't start anything there."

  Raeann just shook her head and handed him his coffee. When he pulled out his wallet, she waved it away. "It's on the house. I hate to charge a man for his final cup of coffee."

  He studied her for a minute, then took his cup and headed toward the door, looking at us like we were the ones who were nuts.

  Once the door shut behind him, I looked at Raeann. "Twenty bucks says Anna Mae takes her."

  She pinched her lips shut for a minute, then held out her hand. "You're on. Cheri Lynn swings on that pole all night. She's gotta have the upper body strength of a lumberjack."

  We shook just as Shelby strolled in, her new friend in tow. Remembering my promise to give him a chance, I schooled my face into a neutral expression.

  He stepped toward me and held his hand out earnestly. "Hey, Ms. Noelle. I'm Cody Newsome. I'm sorry about the other day. I should have asked your permission before I took her for a ride. It won't happen again unless you say it's okay."

  His sandy blond bangs fell over his eye as he lowered his head, and I found myself liking him despite the fact he'd nearly given me a heart attack. I took his hand. He had a firm grip and made good eye contact. The expression in his blue eyes was open, and I couldn't find a single trace of duplicity.

  Dang it, why did he have to be mannerly? I didn't want to like this kid who almost killed my sister. Okay, so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but still. I felt my resolve crumbling, and when I caught sight of the hopeful look on Shelby's face, I caved.

  "Hi Cody. It's nice to meet you. You're Will's nephew, right?"

  "Yes, ma'am. I moved down here at the end of the semester last year. Now that school's out, I'm helping Uncle Will out at his clinic."

  I thought back to how tired Will had looked and was glad he had some help. Will was good enough at what he did that he could have made much more money in a larger town, but he was a hometown kinda guy and came back to Keyhole Lake as soon as he graduated GSU.

  "Cody, this is my friend, cousin, and the owner of this place, Raeann Flynn."

  Rae shook his hand. "Do y'all want a Coke?"

  Both kids nodded so Rae filled up two to-go cups and handed them over. Shelby went around and pulled a couple of pastries out of the case and took them to one of the cafe tables. Rae and I joined them.

  "Do you want to be a vet when you finish school?" I asked Cody as he poked a straw into his cup.

  He shrugged. "I'm considering it. I like animals, but I like the idea of helping people, too. I'm not sure which way I'm going to go."

  Another plus. Not only did he have a goal, he had a good one.

  Raeann smiled. "Take my advice—you may outgrow your love of people, but puppies and kittens will always be cute!"

  Laughing, Cody replied, "Yes, ma'am. You're not the first person to tell me that. The more I help Uncle Will, the more I'm leaning toward being a vet. He says if I want, I can come work with him when I graduate. I'm not sure if I want to live in such a small place, though. Not much seems to happen around here."

  I put my hand to my heart. "Not much goes on? Are you kidding me? In the past three days, we've had a Fourth of July picnic and party, a BBQ competition and fair, and a murder. What else do you want?"

  Still smiling, he said, "Well, a fast food restaurant that stays open past nine might be nice, and I wouldn't mind a movie theater that shows more than three movies at a time."

  I couldn't argue with him; I'd thought the same thing when I was his age. For that matter, I still wouldn't mind either of those things, but usually the good outweighed the bad. I couldn't imagine living anywhere else.

  "You make good points. Anyway, what are you guys doing today?"

  Belatedly, I noticed Shelby was wearing an over-sized tank top she reserved for days at the lake, and the ties to her bikini top were dangling down her back.

  Her eyes were sparkling when she said, "Where else should somebody go when it's 90 degrees outside and the sun is shining? I was thinking I could take him over to the lake and show him around, as long as it's okay with you."

  If this agreeable, lovable girl was the result of Cody's influence, I might be willing to reconsider the whole motorcycle thing. Maybe.

  Then something occurred to me—they were both at the age where hormones raged.

  “Is anybody else going?” I asked, trying to appear casual.

  Shelby rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mom. We’re picking up Angelica on the way out of town. Don’t worry. We won’t be unchaperoned.”

  That hardly made me feel better, because it wasn't that long ago I was a teenager. However, it all came down to trusting her, and it was time to close my eyes and take the step if I wanted our relationship to improve.

  "Okay. I was just asking. Do you have snacks? If not, grab some cookies or something out of the case to take with you."

  Shelby grinned even wider and gave me a hug, whispering, "Thank you. Don't worry about me; I'll be good. I promise."

  That actually set my mind at ease, because she was a lot of things, but a liar wasn't one of them.

  I swatted her on the butt and told her, "You better. Have fun and try to be back before dark. We'll grill some burgers at the house this evening. Cody, you're more than welcome, and Angelica can come too if she wants."

  While Shelby loaded up on a variety of goodies, Cody started to say something, but a huge ruckus broke out in front of the courthouse. We were a few buildings down but could hear the ear-pi
ercing screeches even at this distance. Raeann and I looked at each other and grinned. Hunter's day had just gone right down the toilet.

  Chapter 13

  A

  nna Mae Doolittle and Cheri Lynn Hall were screaming like a couple of banshees at each other right in front of the statue of our town founder and civil war officer, Major Thadeus Washburn. Fortunately, he was one of the spirits who’d decided to cross over into the light after dying peacefully in his sleep at the ripe old age of ninety-one, so his spirit wasn't there to witness the shame.

  Angus and Belle were, though.

  We all raced for the front door, shouldering our way through as quickly as we could. No way were we going to miss this catfight. It had been a long time coming; the entire town was amazed it hadn't happened years ago.

  Cheri Lynn was blinded by curtains of her own brunette hair, and Anna Mae had a pretty good grip on her. She had Cheri bent at the waist, and I cringed when I realized what was coming next. The enraged widow brought her knee up as hard as she could while she gave a vicious yank down.

  I could almost hear Cheri Lynn's nose crunch even from that far away. She howled in pain, and Anna Mae, who was typically a real sweetheart, cursed her with a continuous stream of expletives that would have made a sailor blush.

  Like the good citizens we were, we moved toward them just in case things got too ugly. Plus, we couldn't really hear what was being said.

  A crowd had already gathered. Coralee and the Clip N Curl bunch were standing there along with a handful of other folks who had been in the immediate vicinity. A box had tumbled over and bowling trophies, Bulldogs memorabilia, and about a dozen pictures of Hank hunting and fishing lay strewn across the sidewalk.

  I turned my attention back to the action when the smack talk resumed.

  "You'll be outta that trailer by the end of the month or I'll burn it down around you! And you're not getting another red cent, you gold-diggin' tramp!" Anna Mae screeched as she slammed her fist into Cheri Lynn's mouth.

 

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