Love and Murder in Savannah

by Harper Lin

  “Madame Cecelia had a vision,” he said, his green eyes twinkling from a halo of thick, long lashes. “I’m joking. Nothing so elaborate. I saw that filthy little devil you’ve been chasing. I followed him and found you.”

  “You can see him?” Becky sat up straight and took Count Ernesto’s hand in hers. “I know Madame Cecelia told me who he was, but after… oh, I was so rude to her. She must hate me. I’m a real heel.”

  “On the contrary, Rebecca. She doesn’t hate you at all. She’s been so worried about you since you touched that Ouija board she’s barely been able to sleep.”

  Becky looked down and saw the bracelet.

  “Hot dawg! This piece of hardware saved my life!” Becky cried and held it up for Count Ernesto to see. “Ophelia gave it to me. Said to give it back when I was done using it. Can you believe it?”

  “I can.” Count Ernesto stood, his feather bending against the ceiling.

  “Hey, how did you know I’d be at this party? There have got to be at least a hundred hops going on all over Savannah. How did you know to come to this one?” Becky put her hand to her throat and worried the tender spots where the Heathcliff boy had pressed his fingers.

  “I saw it in a crystal ball.” He helped her down to the landing and over to the steps. The Heathcliff boy lay unconscious on the floor, his right eye shiny with a bruise and a slight trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth where his teeth had cut his lip.

  “Really?” Becky gasped.

  “No. Not at all. Your friend Adam White and I work together. He invited me.” Count Ernesto led Becky downstairs, where he quickly took charge and had the police called. The party cleared out fast, as no one wanted to get caught with the hooch, nor did anyone who had so much as a jaywalking citation want to see the police. The music stopped. People dropped their glasses. In an effort to make a quick getaway, some people even swarmed the fire escape. There, Becky saw the old hobo. He scowled at her as he backed out of the window, his blackened, stubby fingers clinging to the windowsill, his eyes burning with anger and his lips pulled down in a wrinkled, grimy sneer.

  By the time they took the Heathcliff boy into custody, his spring was sprung. He had come to yelling and hollering that he was the fall guy for someone else as the police slipped the cuffs on. Since all the coppers in Savannah knew her daddy, there was little doubt to her story. Count Ernesto also gave his testimony. Even though the police didn’t take kindly to any person hailing from another region of the world, they were satisfied that he was telling the truth too.

  When they were finally allowed to leave the scene, Becky didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh or cry. When she finally stepped out onto the street and saw Fanny in Adam’s arms, holding him tightly and shaking her head, the decision between laughing and crying had been made for her.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Almost a month had passed since Neville Heathcliff had been taken into custody. As it turned out, he willingly confessed to killing poor Lawrence Hoolihan in a fit a jealousy and said he’d do it all again for the woman he loved. Fortunately, he didn’t implicate Becky by name. He also confessed to killing a man by the name of Francis Diggs. When Becky read that in the paper, she nearly choked. But since the police hadn’t said anything to her, apparently having forgotten about her paying them a visit the night Diggs was killed, she let that sleeping dog lie.

  Martha and Teddy had come by several times in the interim and invited her to a slew of parties. But Becky just didn’t have it in her. Something made her feel it was safer to stay close to home, at least for the time being.

  “What are your plans today, sugar?” Judge asked his daughter as they sat around the breakfast table.

  “I’m not sure. I think I’ll see if Lucretia might teach me how to make a devil’s food cake. Maybe,” Becky said as she stirred a healthy helping of cream in her coffee. Strong black coffee brought back the memory of being in the diner with Adam. Becky wanted to erase that, so she did it with cream.

  “Now, Becky, it isn’t healthy for a girl your age to be holed up inside all day,” Kitty urged. “I’d be happy to take you to town. Maybe you’d like to consider a new hairdo, or would you like to see if Gimbles’s fall dresses are on display?”

  “Not today, Mama. But thank you,” Becky said.

  “You are worrying me, gal.” Kitty huffed as she spread a healthy pat of butter on her toast. “I don’t think since you learned how to walk you ever spent so much time inside the house.”

  “Well, when my own mother tries to wed me to a murderer, that makes a girl reconsider her options,” Becky said, lifting her chin.

  Kitty gasped. “I did not try to wed you to a murderer.” She looked at Judge, who laughed while hiding behind his newspaper, which rattled with every subtle shake of his body. “How can you let your daughter say such a thing? Judge?”

  “It’s all right, Mama. I forgive you,” Becky said teasingly. “I knew you were desperate to marry me off. I just didn’t realize how desperate you were.”

  “Had I known that the Heathcliff boy was capable of such horrors, I would have never even allowed him to set foot in my house,” Kitty said. “Of course, his poor mother has to live with this shame. I do believe she is going to have to leave Savannah if she’s going to have any kind of life at all.”

  “She should have left Savannah long before this.” Judge chuckled. “She thought she had the goods on everyone in town. Turns out her own boy had her hoodwinked. I’m just very glad that my one and only child had the wits about her to fight back. I’m proud of you, sugar.”

  “I’d rather not talk about that anymore. It is obviously distressing Mama.” Becky looked at her mother and smiled.

  In truth, Becky herself didn’t want to talk about it anymore. The incident had scared her more than she cared to admit. And even though she hadn’t seen that horrible ragamuffin since he shimmied out the window, she had the feeling he was still out there somewhere, waiting for the chance to whisper in someone’s ear and get them to do his nasty bidding.

  She still didn’t know exactly what he was or why just putting her hands on that Ouija board brought all this on her. She’d gone to the cemetery and talked with Mr. Wilcox and a few other of her spectral friends, but they had no answers either. Instead they spoke about their families in town or the work they had to finish. And Becky was ashamed to say she wasn’t as interested as she once was in their tales. She felt she’d been robbed of something. The Heathcliff boy, Neville, hadn’t taken anything from her. Instead, he’d given her something. A fear of her own gift. Something she’d grown up enjoying, even loving, had now become a facet she never wanted the sun to catch. That made her angrier than if he’d done what he had set out to do.

  “Good mornin’, y’all,” Fanny said in a bubbly tone as she came into the dining room. “Oh, I slept so well. Aunt Kitty, I swear your down pillows are made from angel-wing feathers.”

  “Good morning, Fanny,” Kitty said but looked at her daughter. “Fanny, I was trying to get my beautiful daughter out in the world today. Do you know of anything going on?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t,” Fanny said without looking at her cousin. Becky had gotten quite a bit of attention since the incident, and Fanny’s trip to Paris had taken a back seat to it. “But I will say, Rebecca, that hanging around in the cemetery every day doesn’t make you look any more sane than poor Mr. Heathcliff. I knew from the moment I met him that there was something peculiar going on inside his head.”

  “Of course you did,” Becky replied.

  “Becky, Cousin Fanny is only trying to help,” Kitty interrupted.

  “As I mentioned before, I was told that I have a keen sense of knowing the inner workings of people,” Fanny boasted. “There was just something about the boy that gave me pause.”

  “Was it the fact that he turned down your advances?” Becky raised her eyebrows and pulled down her lips. “I’m sure that’s never happened to you.”

  “Becky,” Judge said in a low,
firm voice.

  “All I want is the best for you, Rebecca. I’m just glad that it’s all over and life can go back to normal. When I was in Paris, I received some very valuable instruction from Grandma Louise, and it was that people will treat you exactly the way you let them. If you demand to be treated respectfully, then you will be. But if you don’t demand it, you will be treated like the common riffraff.” Fanny put an even healthier slab of butter on her toast than Kitty had and topped it with orange marmalade.

  Becky took a sip of her coffee, hoping the hot liquid burning her tongue would distract her from the anger and jealousy she felt toward Fanny. She had no proof of it, but she was sure that the vamp was pursuing Adam. That was why she didn’t mention going dancing at the Maharaja or playing cards at the juke joint down on the river. Those were just two of the invitations extended to Becky from Martha and Teddy, who said they’d told Fanny too.

  “I’ll take the rest of my coffee in my room,” Becky said, shaking her head. She expected her mother to tell her to sit down, but the words never came.

  “You’ll never meet a new beau hiding in your room,” Fanny said as Becky walked out of the dining room and into the kitchen to use the back stairs up to her room.

  In Becky’s mind flashed the image of her throwing the hot coffee in Fanny’s face before grabbing her by the ear and twisting and tugging her to the front door, where she tossed her out. Instead, she took a deep breath, exhaled, and left the dining room.

  “How could she even say that?” Becky muttered. “She knows darn well that the only one I want is Adam. That’s why Fanny sank her claws in him. He isn’t rich, and he isn’t well connected, but he is good looking, and he was mine. That was all the incentive Fanny needed to swoop right in.”

  Becky didn’t know for a fact whether Adam had developed an itch for Fanny or not. She just assumed so after seeing him consoling her after the Heathcliff boy’s attack.

  “Ugh, they are right. I’m going to be fitted for a straitjacket and put in a padded cell if I don’t get out of these digs,” she muttered as she shut her door. Without leaving an opportunity to talk herself out of it, Becky got dressed, shimmied down the trellis, and headed over to Teddy’s.

  “Am I hallucinating?” Teddy quipped as he sat on the porch, sipping a mint julep. “Why… it is! Rebecca Mackenzie! I heard stories about you, but I didn’t think you really existed. I’m so relieved you do.”

  “Cut the wisecracks. I need your jalopy,” Becky said with a smirk.

  “I think I know where you’re going. Do you want some company?” Teddy asked as he pulled his keys from his pocket.

  “No,” Becky said without further explanation as she took the keys. “I’ll try to bring it back in one piece.” She leaned down and gave Teddy a kiss on the cheek.

  “Martha is worried about you,” Teddy added.

  “Oh, tell her she doesn’t have to worry. I’m fine, really,” Becky lied.

  “She’s barely had anything to drink since that night. I’ve only seen her dance once. And I think if she has to sit and listen to Fanny talk about Paris one more time, there is going to be another murder,” Teddy whispered the last two words of that sentence.

  “Oh, well, then I’ll have to lie low for one more night. Then you tell Martha to meet me at Willie’s club. We’ll have one last howdy-do and scram for parts unknown.” Becky waved as she climbed into Teddy’s car and sped off.

  Like usual, it was jumping downtown. People were headed in every direction. No one looked at Becky or recognized her. She was just one of a million faces in town, and that made her feel good.

  She knew where she wanted to go but wasn’t sure what she would do when she got there. Her mind was going fast, yet her thoughts seemed reluctant to form, like rice pudding that hadn’t sat long enough.

  The sound of honking horns was soothing, and the exhaust filtered through her nose but spread onto her taste buds, giving them a subtle smoky coating. Her hands sweated as she gripped the steering wheel, and she tried to think of something to say when she finally arrived at her destination.

  “Oh, Becky, what are you fidgeting about? It’s like you have ants in your pants,” she scolded herself. “Just stop the car, get out, and go knock on the door and see what happens.”

  She couldn’t wait any longer. Becky rounded one corner to the right then another to the left. Finally, she arrived at the skinny door and paced back and forth while she collected her thoughts. Ophelia opened the door. But before Becky could come up with anything witty to say, her eyes filled with tears, and she broke down into sobs.

  “It’s all right,” Ophelia said as she pulled Becky to her. “You’re safe here.”

  “I was so mean to Cecelia,” Becky confided in the old woman. “I didn’t want to listen to her. I was the epitome of bad manners. But had I done what she said, none of that would have happened, and—”

  “And Neville Heathcliff would have gotten away with murder. Come. She’s expecting you,” Ophelia said.

  “She is?”

  “Of course.” Ophelia chuckled, her one white eye staring blindly ahead while the other twinkled. “You have so much in common. So much to talk about. Go on up. You know the way.”

  Ophelia went back down to the store as Becky climbed the stairs, careful of all the statues and candles along the way. When she got to the top landing, she knocked on the door.

  Footsteps could be heard running toward the door. Madame Cecelia flung it open, smiled as widely as ever, and gave Becky a big hug. “I’m so glad you are okay.” She squeezed her tight.

  “But I was so awful to you. I should have listened. I’m so sorry. Here.” Becky pulled back and opened her clutch to retrieve the purple bangle bracelet. “You said to return it when I was done with it. I think it did what it was supposed to do.”

  “It sure did. Coffee? We have so much to talk about,” Cecelia said.

  “I’d love some,” Becky replied. She already felt better.

  As you wait for book 2 of The Southern Sleuth series, catch up on Harper Lin’s other series by visiting her website.

  Read an excerpt of Cappuccinos, Cupcakes, and a Corpse, book 1 the Cape Bay Cafe Mysteries, at the end of this book.

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  About the Author

  Harper Lin is a USA TODAY bestselling cozy mystery author.

  When she's not reading or writing, she loves hiking, doing yoga, and hanging out with her family and friends.

  For a complete list of her books by series, visit her website. Follow Harper on social media using the icons below for the latest insider news.

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  A Note From Harper

  Thank you so much for reading Love and Murder in Savannah. If you were entertained by this Southern Sleuth mystery, please recommend it to friends and family who would enjoy it too. I would also really appreciate it if you could write a book review to help spread the word.

  If you like this series, you might also enjoy my other series:

  • The Cape Bay Cafe Mysteries: When Fran moves back to her idyllic beach town to take over the family café, she also develops a knack for solving bizarre murders. Each book includes special recipes.

  • The Pink Cupcake Mysteries: A new divorcée sells delicious cupcakes from a pink food truck, to the chagrin of her ex-husband. Each book includes cupcake recipes.

  • The Patisserie Mysteries: An heiress to a famous French patisserie chain takes over the family business, while using her status as a Parisian socialite to solve murders in high society. Each book includes French dessert recipes.

  • Secret Agent Granny: 70-year-old Barbara, a sweet grandmother—and a badass ex-CIA agent, is bored in retirement, until someone in her small town is murdered.

  • The Wonder Cats Mysteries: three witches and their magical cats s
olve paranormal murder cases in the mystical town of Wonder Falls

  • The Emma Wild Mysteries: a 4-Book holiday cozy series about a famous singer returning to her small Canadian town. Each book includes holiday dessert recipes.

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  If you’d like to get in touch with me directly, you can email me at harperlinauthor@outlook.com. I would love to hear what you think about the books. Do also drop me a note if you happen to catch any mistakes. While each book is edited and proofread by professionals, errors can still slip through sometimes. As an indie writer, I want to provide readers with the smoothest read possible.

  Last but not least, visit my website for the latest news and my blog.

  Thanks and much love,

  Harper

  Excerpt from “Cappuccinos, Cupcakes, and a Corpse”

  Before we could even turn around to go into the house, the neighborhood busybody contingent flocked across the street, past Mike on his way to his car, and surrounded Matty and me.

  “Matteo, what happened?” “Was your dad sick, Matty?” “Francesca, dear, how did you find him? You were just walking home?” “What a fortunate coincidence, you finding him! He could have been out there God knows how long if you hadn’t happened along!” “What an unfortunate coincidence, what with your mother just passing!” “If you need any help going through his things, Matteo, I’d be happy to help. You know, I’ve lived just down the street there since your parents first moved in, back before you were even born.”