Southern Harm

by Caroline Fardig

  After giving her a quick rundown of his conversation with Brock, he ended with, “The last thing he said to me was to make sure and thank you two for being there for Portia. He almost teared up when he said how hard it had been on her to lose two friends this week, but that the bright spot was making two new ones.”

  A hush fell over the three of us as he turned on the truck and put it into drive. He broke the silence by asking, “Where to?”

  Delilah looked at her phone. “It’s late. I think the place where Angie Potter works should still be open, though. According to her manager, she’s working tonight.”

  “Let’s do it,” Tucker said, pulling out onto the street.

  Delilah said, “You know, if Brock was as careful as he said he was, the mystery boyfriend has to be Esther’s baby daddy, which all of a sudden gives him a truckload of motive to kill her.”

  “If there’s even a baby at all. We only have the word of one scumbag,” I pointed out. “No word about a baby on the autopsy report the coroner released.”

  “The police probably wouldn’t let that kind of information get out, though, if they’re still investigating,” Tucker said. “At least that’s what I assume, and it’s the basis of the lie I told to Brock. And don’t forget there wasn’t much left of Esther besides bones. They might not have been able to tell whether or not she’d been pregnant.”

  Delilah asked, “So, Quinn, after hearing that conversation, now are you finally convinced it’s not Brock who killed Esther?”

  I turned in my seat so I could face her. “Pretty well, but not entirely. Brock spun a nice story about their breakup, but don’t forget Ezra said he had to put Brock in his place after it happened. Nobody likes to be left for someone else. Brock might have cooled off, only to have his emotions go haywire again later and lose control. Esther’s death could have been some kind of assault gone bad.”

  “Isn’t any kind of assault bad right from the start?” Delilah quipped.

  “You know what I mean. Brock liked to punch people. Maybe he punched Esther too hard and she didn’t get up. Maybe he shoved her, and she fell and hit her head. Maybe her death was a total and complete accident, but he still didn’t want his name attached to it.” My eyes grew wide. “Or maybe he did indeed get her pregnant, or even worried she’d try to pin it on him if things with her new boyfriend didn’t work out, so he got rid of her before any of that happened. Think about it—he said his trust fund would have been at stake. There’re probably millions of reasons right there for murder.”

  Tucker glanced over at me. “I didn’t want to admit it, but I had the same thought while I was talking to him. He got agitated when he told me that story. Now I’m thinking he looks more guilty, not less.”

  Delilah sat back and crossed her arms. “Until we agree about who we think the killer could be, we’re spinning our wheels. I’m all for splitting up again. We have a lot of people to interview, and not a lot of time to do it. We can each chase down our own theories.”

  I got a sinking feeling in my gut. Delilah clearly didn’t want any part of investigating Brock Sheridan. She believed wholeheartedly in his innocence. I thought he was a strong possibility, and I wasn’t going to stop digging where he was concerned. But I really didn’t want to split up again. The day we’d first tried it was the worst day of the entire investigation for me. That could easily happen again.

  I sighed. “You know I don’t want to do this without you, D.”

  She put her hand on my shoulder. “I’m not trying to get away from you. I’m thinking about Mom and Dad. We don’t want them in jail a minute longer than necessary.”

  She was absolutely right, and I felt bad for putting my need for emotional support above my parents having to do jail time.

  “You’re right. Sorry. We can split up tomorrow.”

  Tucker said, “What am I, chopped liver? I’ll partner with you. I know I’m not as tough as Delilah, but surely I can be of some assistance.”

  I smiled at him. “I would love that. Thank you. And you’re plenty tough.”

  Delilah said, “But I’m still tougher.”

  * * *

  —

  We pulled up in front of an ancient pizza parlor in a not so nice area of town. I kept close to Tucker as we entered through the busted-up front door. Usually these old places had the best pizza. But this one didn’t smell right inside.

  Delilah marched up to the counter and asked for Angie. The older woman behind the counter nodded and disappeared into the back. She returned with a woman who looked like she’d been “rode hard and put up wet,” to quote Grandmama Hattie’s outspoken sister, Ida, who came to visit us a couple of times a year when we were growing up. In short, the woman looked tired and unkempt, like all she did was work.

  “I’m Angie,” she said wearily, leaning against the counter as if her feet could no longer support her meager weight.

  Delilah ushered us all over to a table in the corner and gave Angie a quick explanation of why we were here. Once she mentioned Esther Sinclair’s name, Angie’s mouth turned down. No surprise, because according to Grady Stewart, Esther and Angie were enemies. Maybe now we’d find out why.

  Angie spat out, “Esther Sinclair was a stuck-up little b—”

  I held up a hand. “No need to speak ill of the dead. We’ve gathered that Esther wasn’t Miss Congeniality.”

  Angie sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “You can say that again.”

  “We’d like to know how Earl Settle treated her at work.”

  “Oh, he treated her like a princess. She got to take all the breaks she wanted, and he looked the other way. Me, on the other hand…I take one extra smoke break one time, and he calls me out on it.”

  Delilah said, “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  Angie let out a snort. “Nothing about working there was fair. He always treated her better. She got to be cashier instead of having to make his nasty coleslaw or be up to her elbows in raw chicken. She never had to clean the bathrooms. She never had to take out the trash. That was all ‘Angie work.’ ”

  I said, “We spoke to Grady Stewart, and he mentioned you and Esther didn’t get along. I get why you didn’t like her, but why would he say that you two were enemies?”

  Chuckling to herself, she replied, “Because I was one of the few people who’d stand up to her when she did her whole high and mighty thing, and she didn’t like that one bit. I remember one night I was in the back, sweaty and frizzy-haired from slaving over a vat of hot grease all evening. She walked by, every hair in place, and started making fun of me for how I looked. So I took one of the big vats of coleslaw I’d made earlier and dumped it on her head. I very nearly got fired, but the other cooks didn’t like her, either—except Grady, for some reason—and they backed me up and told Earl the whole thing was an accident.” She suddenly frowned. “Wait. You’re not trying to find out who all had beefs with Esther, are you? Just because I couldn’t stand her doesn’t mean I wanted to kill her.”

  Delilah held out her hands. “No. We know that. We’re simply trying to find out why Earl lied to us about firing her.”

  “Probably to cover his butt. For as much as I hated her for getting all the perks at work, I have to admit I’m relieved I didn’t have to deal with Earl trying to get in my panties. I assume he thought she owed him it. And he wasn’t subtle.” She shuddered.

  “What did he do, exactly?”

  She winced. “Way more than a boss ever should have. When he thought no one was looking, he’d back her up against a wall and…touch her. She pushed him away, but he kept coming back for more.”

  It became clear to me why Earl lied to us about how he and Esther had parted ways. The news of sexual misconduct, even occurring decades ago, could ruin a man. He was indeed covering his assets, as it were. It would have put his business in jeopardy to admit to us what reall
y happened. I didn’t think Earl Settle was a murderer, although he was certainly guilty of being an awful human being.

  “Did she tell you this, or did you see it happen?”

  “I saw it.” She shook her head. “I probably should have tried to put a stop to it, but…it was in the middle of our feud and I honestly didn’t feel much like helping her. It was around the time she started taking more than her share of breaks, so I’d been spying on her to find out why she kept disappearing. I figured I could tattle on her to Earl and get her in trouble. That was when I saw him bothering her.”

  Tucker had been quiet until now. “Did you ever figure out why she was taking so many breaks all of a sudden?”

  Angie nodded, a smile forming in the corner of her mouth. “Pretty pretty princess was preggers.”

  My jaw dropped. “Are you sure? How do you know?”

  “She puked her guts up at least once every shift for the last month she worked there. It was usually when we would load a big batch of chicken into the fryers. The smell would gag me sometimes, so I can imagine how bad it was for her. Plus I called her on it, and she made me promise not to tell.”

  Delilah eyed Angie. “What was in it for you to keep her secret?”

  She shrugged. “She threw me a few bucks.”

  Lovely. Nothing like a little blackmail among coworkers.

  Tucker said, “I don’t suppose she mentioned whose baby it was.”

  “She didn’t, but I’d be willing to bet it was the guy I saw her making out with behind the dumpsters a couple of times.”

  D gripped the table. “Who was he?”

  Angie shook her head. “I didn’t know him.”

  “What did he look like? High school kid or adult?”

  “Definitely an adult, but not a whole lot older than her. He dressed weird, though—like a…a professor or something. But he was hot.”

  My sister and I exchanged a glance. Delilah’s voice shook as she asked, “Was he by chance wearing a bow tie?”

  “Yeah. How did you know?”

  Chapter 35

  The moment we were outside the pizza parlor, Delilah exploded. “Dennis Griffin is the mystery boyfriend—and also the baby daddy! It all fits!”

  Tucker frowned. “What about all the animosity you both told me everyone said he displayed toward Esther? That doesn’t fit.”

  “His anger toward Esther in public was an act. Heck, maybe it was their brand of foreplay.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “D, gross.”

  “I’m sorry if I’m offending your genteel sensibilities, Quinn, but get your mind in the gutter for once. Griffin was an older man, which Esther was said to have liked. Having their relationship go public would ruin him and their chances at being together, like her cousin Polly said she was worried about. If her parents had found out, they would have sued the pants off him, the school, and anyone else they could get their hands on over this type of scandal. Throw a baby conceived out of wedlock into the mix, and you’ve got a freaking nuclear bomb. We’re talking national headline news. I know we were thinking her mystery man was married, but I think the fact that he was a teacher could get him into way deeper trouble for impregnating a young girl—a student of his, no less.”

  Tucker nodded, mulling it all over. “You make a good point.”

  “Of course I do. Griffin tendered his resignation and planned to leave town. Esther had packed her bags and was leaving the same day. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”

  I asked, “Are we still going with the idea that Esther’s mystery man has to be her killer?”

  Delilah nodded. “Yes, now more than ever.”

  “But if they were planning to run away so they could be together, why would he kill her?”

  She screwed up her face in thought. After a minute went by, she blew out a breath. “Not sure. Maybe they got in a fight. Statistically, most of the time it’s the significant other.”

  I frowned at her. “I know that, but this is a different scenario than most. Imagine that you quit your job and/or left your family and friends behind to be with this one other person. You’d have to be head over heels in love, right? Running off would feel like a…a honeymoon or an elopement or something. Don’t you think they would have been too excited and gooey to pick a fight with each other—especially one that ended with one of them in the ground?”

  “Yeah, but a baby throws a monkey wrench into the thrill of two people running away together. What if he decided he didn’t want the baby? Ever think of that?”

  Tucker eyed her uneasily. “It’s kind of diabolical to kill the mother of your unborn child so you can shirk your responsibility.”

  “Yes, but it happens. Or maybe she decided she didn’t want the baby, and they fought over whether or not to keep it. Or…or—” My sister’s eyes bulged. “Consider this—she cheated on Brock with him. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Maybe she cheated on Griffin with yet another guy and Griffin found out.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Reaching.”

  “Okay, fine. But either way we need to speak to Dennis Griffin ASAP.”

  Tucker looked from me to Delilah. “I’m not trying to tell anyone what to do here, but I think we could all use some rest. It’s been a long day…and we want to make the interview with Griffin count.” After hesitating for a moment, he added, “Or…maybe we could simply give his name to the police and let them handle it.”

  My sister didn’t like that idea, not that I thought she would. “Hand them our only suspect before we verify our suspicions? No thanks. I’m seeing this thing all the way through.”

  I said, “He’s not our only suspect.”

  She wheeled on me. “Who else are you even considering at this point?” When I hesitated, she said, “Don’t say Brock.”

  I shrugged. “Okay, I won’t say it. But I’ll be thinking it. And I’ll be thinking you’re protecting him because of Portia.”

  Frowning at me, she warned, “Quit throwing that in my face.”

  “I will when you come to your senses.”

  She rolled her eyes. “My senses are completely fine! I simply don’t think he did it. I’m entitled to my opinion.”

  I crossed my arms and stood my ground. “As am I.”

  “I don’t understand why you keep coming back to him.”

  “Because he makes sense.”

  “More sense than the teacher who knocked up his student?”

  “Yes, and don’t be crass.”

  My sister glared at me. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  Tucker stepped between us. “Ladies, I think it’s time to call it a night.”

  “Fine,” Delilah and I both said at the same time and made our way huffily to his truck.

  We rode home in silence. Delilah got out quickly and made a run for the B&B without saying a word.

  I sighed and turned to face Tucker. “Sorry you had to see one of our sisterly fights.”

  He grasped my hand. “Do you think having me around is stressing your partnership with your sister? Last time you two seemed to work together a lot better. I can back off if you think it’ll help.”

  “I don’t know what to think. This thing with our parents is stressing me out. And I know D talks tough, but it’s killing her, too.”

  He wrapped his arms around me. “We’re not going to let them get accused of anything.”

  “We let your aunt get accused of murder. We may not have a choice,” I whispered, on the verge of tears.

  “Then I’ll stick by you through whatever comes.”

  My fragmented heart swelled. I hadn’t ever doubted it for a moment, but it was still nice to hear those words out loud.

  Chapter 36

  I couldn’t phone in two breakfasts in a row—our guests wouldn’t appreciate it. This morning I had Delilah’s help, although the air between u
s was still buzzing from our disagreement last night.

  For the first time in years, Papa Sal didn’t come down to help with breakfast. I didn’t blame him. He was absolutely sick over his little girl being in jail overnight. The police tried to sugarcoat it as them simply “holding her for questioning,” but we all knew she was being held in a cell like a common criminal. If I thought too much about it, I started tearing up, so I kept my nose to the grindstone and turned out the fastest gourmet breakfast in history. I managed to hold it together through the morning greeting, having to reach deep to sell Papa Sal’s part of our speech. But the moment I entered the kitchen, I made a beeline for the table and threw myself onto the nearest chair, hiding my face in the crook of my arms. Tears flowed from my eyes silently as I finally let go.

  Delilah was next to me in an instant, her arms around me and speaking in a soothing voice. “Quinnie, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to fight. We’re both so stressed. We shouldn’t be adding to it by being at odds. I know you’re only doing what you think is best and not giving anyone special treatment. And if you want to keep digging about Brock, I’ll be behind you all the way.”

  Stunned, I looked up at her. “Really? But he’s—”

  “Someone who’s not going to get a pass on our investigation simply because of who he is or who he’s married to.”

  “Are you sure? I understand if you don’t want any part of it.”

  She squeezed my hands. “We’re a team. That’s the only thing that matters.” When my lower lip began to quiver, she added, “Now, don’t go blubbering on me again, or I might change my mind.”

  I smiled and wiped my eyes. “Yes, ma’am. So where to first? After breakfast, of course.”

  “We go see our parents.”

  * * *

  —

  Tucker showed up not long after we started the dishes and was an immense help. Then we all piled in his truck and went to the police station. While he went to visit his aunt, Delilah and I were granted visitation with one parent at a time. We saw Dad first.