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A Killer Column mbtn-2 Page 18

by Casey Mayes


  After thirty seconds, I was ready.

  I stormed to the front desk and slapped my hand down on the counter. It sounded like a gunshot as it echoed through the lobby, and I noticed a few people look up at the impact.

  “I demand an explanation,” I said loudly.

  “How may I help you?” the man asked timidly.

  “I want to know why there were duplicate food service items billed to my room yesterday.”

  He frowned. “I’m sure we can straighten it out. May I have your room number?”

  I gave him Sylvia’s room number, and then said, “The name is Sylvia Peters.”

  He tapped a few keys, studied the screen, and then said, “There appears to be a single charge yesterday.”

  “That’s not what I was told,” I said, again raising my voice. I saw Jenny flinch, and it took me a second to realize that she was trying to keep from laughing out loud. “Let me see that.”

  He complied by turning the screen around, and I saw that Sylvia had indeed ordered a salad when she said she had.

  “Very well, but that doesn’t explain why it was so late in arriving to my room.”

  He lowered his head instantly. “We had a miscommunication,” he said. “All of our room service orders were delayed by over an hour because of a computer glitch.”

  “And that is my fault how, exactly?”

  I saw the man bite his lip, and then he said, “Again, we apologize for the inconvenience. If you’ll allow us, we’d like to treat you to dinner for two at our restaurant as a way to make up for it.” He slid a voucher toward me, and I took it quickly.

  “Thank you,” I said, easing the harsh tone of my voice. “You’ve been very kind.”

  He nodded, clearly relieved to be done with me.

  The only problem was, he wasn’t, though he didn’t know it yet.

  I started to go, and then turned back to him. “My friend, Mindi Mills, seems to have checked out before she had a chance to let me know where she was going.”

  “Sorry, but I have no idea where she went,” he said.

  “Can’t you find out?”

  “No, ma’am. Again, I’m sorry.” Funny, he didn’t seem the least bit remorseful, though I really couldn’t blame him.

  “Very well,” I said.

  I walked toward the restaurant, and Jenny joined me.

  “I can’t believe you got him to show you that Sylvia’s alibi for the attempt on Kelsey’s life was valid.”

  “It just took a little bluster,” I said. “But we still don’t know where Mindi went.”

  “Perhaps I can help,” a man’s voice behind me said.

  It was Benjamin Lowe, and I had some fast talking to do.

  “I SUPPOSE YOU’RE WONDERING WHAT JUST HAPPENED,” I said.

  “On the contrary,” he said with a smile, “I’d rather not know at all. Garrett warned me that your behavior could be eccentric at times, but that you were to be indulged whenever possible.”

  “Remind me to thank him the next time I see him,” I said. “Did you hear everything? You weren’t supposed to be here.”

  “Officially, I’m not, but I had some paperwork to do in back, and when I heard you claiming to be Sylvia Peters, I couldn’t help eavesdropping as long as I didn’t spoil the show.”

  “I hope the clerk isn’t going to get into trouble because of me,” I said. “It wasn’t his fault.”

  “He didn’t do anything wrong, given the way you presented yourself,” Benjamin said. “By the way, I hope you and your husband enjoy your meal at our restaurant.”

  I started to hand the voucher to him when he held his palms up. “I wouldn’t dream of taking that back. You earned it.”

  “Thanks,” I said, adding a grin. “Since you’re here, maybe you can help us find Mindi Mills.”

  “That’s why I came out here. I happened to check her out myself, so I know exactly where she went.”

  “Go on, I’m listening.”

  “She wanted me to order her a limousine to take her to the Brunswick Hotel from here,” he said.

  “A limo? Really? I was under the impression she couldn’t afford anything that nice.”

  Benjamin shrugged slightly. “If you’d like to speak with the car service, I used Evans Livery.”

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll go by the Brunswick and ask her myself.”

  He nodded, and then retrieved a card from his breast pocket. After jotting something down on the back, Benjamin said, “To save you from further deceit, here’s my personal cell phone number. I am at your disposal around the clock, so don’t hesitate to call.”

  “You have no idea what you’re opening yourself up to,” Jenny said.

  Benjamin replied, “I have some idea. Now, if there’s nothing else, I have work to do.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “My pleasure.”

  After he was gone, I said, “I can’t imagine what Garrett did for him, but it must have been huge.”

  “Let’s not question it,” Jenny said. “Are we headed to the Brunswick Hotel now?”

  I glanced over at my husband in time to see him push away from the table and point one lone finger at Lassiter, who looked visibly shaken by the gesture. Zach walked out of the restaurant scowling, which lasted until he saw me. His wink told me that his fit of anger was merely a ruse to shake Lassiter, and from the expression on the man’s face, it had worked.

  Zach headed out the door to the parking garage, and Jenny and I followed. It appeared that we all had a lot to talk about.

  “WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT?” I ASKED HIM AS SOON AS WE got out of sight.

  Zach grinned. “I put a little righteous fear in him.” He broke his smile for a moment. “That’s okay with you, isn’t it? I know I said I wouldn’t interview any suspects, but he’s getting ready to leave town. I caught him checking out, so I made an executive decision.”

  “You did great,” I said. “Did you have any luck with him?”

  “You won’t believe it.”

  Noticing that Jenny and I had started walking toward my car, Zach asked, “Are we going somewhere?”

  “We’re heading over to the Brunswick Hotel,” I said.

  “What’s Cary done now?”

  “It’s not Cary,” I said. “Mindi just moved there, and we need to find out how she’s suddenly able to afford it.”

  “Let’s go, then. We can talk on the way.”

  Jenny said, “I’ve got a feeling we’re going to need more than the few minutes it’s going to take to drive over there. Why don’t we grab some hot dogs from the Grill and then get some dessert. Does anyone feel like pie?”

  Zach smiled broadly at her. “I always feel like pie.” He turned to me. “Savannah, I knew there was a reason I liked her.”

  After we ate our fill of hot dogs at the Grill, it was time for dessert.

  “Just take a left out of the parking lot,” Jenny said. “I’ll tell you where to turn next.”

  Six minutes later, we were in front of a diner that looked as though it had seen better days, say in the 1950s. The brick exterior had been painted white a decade ago if the peeling paint was any indication, and the “H” in the “Hot Food” sign was burned out. In other words, it was exactly my husband’s kind of dining establishment.

  We got out and went inside, and Jenny grabbed a table by the window, smiling and greeting a few folks on her way inside.

  “You should run for mayor,” I said. “Everywhere we go, you know somebody.”

  “I like it here, and they like me,” she said.

  A white man in his late fifties sporting a grizzled salt-and-pepper beard walked out wearing an apron that was clean, though tattered around the edges. “If it isn’t Jenny Blake herself,” he said as he smiled broadly at her.

  “Hi, Clayton,” she said.

  “Sherrie, get out here.”

  A black woman who appeared to be around the same age came out, her cheeks dusted with flour. “Clayton, I can’t keep making pies i
f you don’t leave me to it, and then what are you going to sell?” Her expression lit up as she saw Jenny. “Jenny, it’s wonderful to see you. Where have you been hiding yourself, young lady?”

  “I’ve been working,” she said. “I’d like you to meet my friends. This is Savannah Stone, and this is her husband, Zach.”

  Clayton offered a hand to my husband. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Zach nodded, and then smiled broadly at Sherrie. “I hear you make the best pie in the world. That makes me an instant fan of yours.”

  Sherrie looked pleased by the compliment, though she tried not to show it. “Jenny, have you been spreading lies about me again?”

  “Nothing but the truth,” Jenny said.

  “Well, it’s good to see you. Can I bring you something?”

  “Some coffee would be nice,” she said, “and three slices of pie.”

  Sherrie looked at Zach. “Any kind in particular?”

  “What would you say if I told you I wanted to taste one of each?”

  She laughed. “I’d say your eyes were too big for your stomach.”

  “Then bring me a slice of your favorite,” Zach said.

  “And how do you know you’ll like it?”

  “If it’s good enough for you, I’m sure it will be perfect for me,” my husband replied.

  Sherrie swatted at me with a rag that was flung over her shoulder. “Hold on to him, Savannah. He’s one of the good ones.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” I said.

  After Sherrie was gone, a man tried to get Clayton’s attention at the register. “If you all will excuse me.”

  “Of course,” Jenny said.

  After they were gone, I asked, “Are they married?”

  Jenny shook her head. “No, they grew up together, but nobody from either side of the tracks liked them being such good friends, so they drifted apart. Fifteen years ago, Sherrie lost her husband in a car wreck about the same time Clayton’s wife left him for another man, and the two of them decided it was high time they got to be the friends they were meant to be. They bought this place, and it’s been thriving ever since they opened it.” She looked around and said, “Judges eat here, right alongside trash collectors. The only rule they have is you take the next open seat if you’re waiting, no matter who’s around you. They pride themselves on serving the best pie in North Carolina, and offering it to anyone with the price of a slice on him.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why they’re so fond of you,” I said.

  “I helped them out once with a little situation, and they won’t let me forget it,” Jenny answered.

  “You’re not going to leave it at that, are you?”

  “I am,” Jenny said. “Look, here comes our order.”

  Sherrie came out with a tray loaded down with six plates. “That’s too much,” Jenny said.

  “Only one is for you,” she said as she slid a piece of peach pie in front of her. “Savannah, do you like apple?”

  “I sure do,” I said, and she gave me a piece of pie with a flaky golden crust barely able to contain the golden apple slices inside.

  Zach looked a little worried. “Sherrie, as much as I’d love to, I can’t eat that much.”

  She laughed again, and Clayton smiled at the register. “I’m just having some fun with you, Zach. Take your pick, though.”

  He studied the pie slices, and then finally settled for a slice of lemon meringue.

  “That’s an excellent choice,” Sherrie said.

  “What would you have said if I’d picked the sweet potato?”

  Sherrie laughed. “The same. How do you know it’s not pumpkin?”

  “Pumpkin is darker, and the texture is different. It’s easy enough if you know what you’re looking at.”

  Sherrie nodded. “Not everybody can tell, though. You do like pie, don’t you?”

  “I told you,” Zach said as he took his first bite. “Wow. This is unbelievable.”

  “Glad you like it,” Sherrie said, and then looked at us. “Anything else for you ladies?”

  “No, we’re good. Thanks.”

  “Then I’ll give you some peace.”

  She disappeared into the back after whispering something to Clayton, who laughed heartily. It was clear that they were indeed the best of friends.

  “They’ll give us some space,” Jenny said as she took a bite of her pie. “The woman is magic.”

  I tasted mine, amazed by the texture of the crust, the crisp edge to the apples, and the blend of cinnamon, nutmeg, and some spices I didn’t recognize, giving the pie a whole different level of flavor. “Wow is right.”

  “I told you she was good,” Jenny said as she took another bite. “What did you find out from Lassiter, Zach?” Jenny asked.

  He finished a bite, and had another poised for his mouth. “You two go first.”

  “So you can finish your pie?” I asked.

  “Guilty as charged.”

  I didn’t have a problem with that. As my husband kept eating, I began to bring him up-to-date on what Jenny and I uncovered so far.

  Chapter 19

  I TOOK A BITE OF MY PIE, AND THEN GOT STARTED. “OKAY, I’LL go. Probably the biggest thing we learned was that Kelsey and Brady have been dating for seven months. He’s the one who got her the job with Derrick.”

  “What a lousy thing to do to a girlfriend,” Zach said through a mouthful of pie.

  “That’s what we thought, but Kelsey appears to be grateful for it. Brady claims that when we saw him visiting Cary, he was just trying to keep Kelsey’s job for her.”

  “So, they weren’t courting flowers after all,” Zach said with a smile.

  “Or condolence flowers, either.”

  “I get it; we were both wrong,” Zach said. He stabbed his fork in the air at me as he added, “But that doesn’t exactly clear him in Derrick’s murder. If anything, it gives him more reason to want to see him dead than we realized before.”

  “That’s what we said. He seemed to think that because he’s the one who pulled Kelsey back from the bus, he’s absolved of Derrick’s murder.”

  That caught my husband by surprise. “He was with her when it happened?”

  “Yes,” Jenny said, “but he claims he didn’t see anything until she started falling toward the bus.”

  “It gives us something else to check,” Zach said. “What else do you have for me?”

  “We’re fairly certain that it wasn’t Sylvia,” I said, “at least not when it comes to the attempt on Kelsey. She’d ordered a salad from room service, and it took an hour to deliver. There’s no way she’d risk leaving if it would be so easy to verify that she was gone.”

  “Did you check with the hotel to see if it’s true?”

  “Yes,” I said simply.

  “Tell him how you did it,” Jenny said with a smile.

  “He doesn’t need to know everything,” I answered, hoping Zach would drop it.

  “I just assumed you asked Benjamin.”

  “I tried that first,” I admitted, “but he was gone; at least we thought he was.”

  Zach stroked his chin, and then said, “If I had to guess, I’d say that you impersonated Sylvia with the front desk clerk.”

  Jenny looked shocked by my husband’s guess. “She did! How could you possibly know that?”

  “You keep forgetting I used to do this for a living,” Zach said. “That means we can mark Sylvia off the list for the attempt on Kelsey, but not Derrick’s murder.”

  “We’re having a tough time eliminating suspects for that, aren’t we?” I asked.

  Zach shrugged. “I’m fairly certain that we can strike Lassiter’s name off all of our lists.”

  “How could we possibly do that? Did he say something?”

  Zach smiled as he finished the last bite of his pie.

  “Come on, that’s not fair. We told you everything we know,” I said. “Now it’s your turn.”

  Jenny raised an eyebrow as she looked at
me. “Savannah, that’s not everything.”

  “Shhh,” I said. I wasn’t certain what she was talking about, but I didn’t want to spoil her play.

  Zach’s smile disappeared. “You two aren’t holding out on me, are you?”

  “That depends. Are you keeping anything from us?”

  He put his fork down and wiped his lips. “Fine, I’ll tell you. Lassiter has a pretty good alibi for the day of the murder. He didn’t want to tell me until I started putting a little pressure on him.”

  “How good could it be?” I asked.

  “If it checks out, it’s pretty solid. Lassiter claims that he was with his attorney discussing his settlement with Derrick when the man was murdered,” Zach said. “That’s what triggered the sale of the syndicate you all belong to, Savannah. Derrick was going to use the money he got from the proceeds to pay off Lassiter so he wouldn’t sue him over their land deal that went sour. It turned out he wasn’t as free and clear of it as he’d originally thought, and this was his way to make it go away for good.”

  “But he fired half his syndication group, including me.”

  “That was for show only, trust me. It was a way he could put the screws to all of you one last time, but he had no intention of firing anyone. He needed you all as part of the group to make the sale go through. Lassiter laughed in my face when I accused him of murder. His point was, why would he kill his golden goose before he got any eggs, and I tend to agree with him. I’m going to look into it and see if it’s true. Now, tell me what else you two learned today.”

  I looked as innocent as I could manage. “I have no idea what she’s talking about.”

  Jenny said, “Come on, we learned something else.”

  “I’m just as curious as Zach is,” I said.

  “I just assumed you saw it, too. When Brady came out the first time, there was something sticking to his foot.”

  “It was just a piece of paper,” I said, remembering the paper, but dismissing it as unimportant.

  “Was it? From where I stood, it looked as though it had been torn out of a telephone directory. That’s the same thing we found in Derrick’s suitcases. It can’t just be a coincidence, can it?”

 

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