He nodded. “You know who used to work for the county appraiser’s office, right?”
“Wilbur Redbecker.”
“Sonny thinks he rigged the property lines in his favor. Said he doesn’t care what the survey says, he knows his land and he ain’t sellin’ it to nobody, and he’s tired of letting that old biddy tell him what to do with it, too.” His cheeks turned a touch pink. “Excuse me. Those were his words, not mine. I don’t speak ill of the dead.”
I patted his shoulder. “It’s okay Odell. I understand.” We weren’t close enough to the area to get a good view of the land, and I had no idea how far Sonny claimed it extended anyway. “About how big of a section of land are we talking about?”
Odell tapped his chin. “Supposed to stretch all the way to the end of the property, so I’d guess about a couple acres when it’s all said and done. You measure it out right though, and it’ll come out different. Math wasn’t never my strong point.”
“Mine either. I’ll have to check with the tax assessor and see how they’d measure that.”
Junior appeared from the back side of Myrtle’s house with his shovel in hand. Jesse followed closely behind him, his voice loud enough for the neighbors a mile down the road to hear.
“I told you to leave my property alone, Junior, and I meant it. I know what you’re doing, and the two of you need to stay out of my business.”
Junior’s voice was quiet enough that I had to hone in my attention to hear him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jesse. Miss Sprayberry gave me the go-ahead to keep working. You got a problem with that, you talk to her. I don’t answer to you.”
Jesse glanced our way and noticed us staring at him. I gave a gentle wave and he marched off toward the front of the house and disappeared.
Jesse wasn’t in jail, so I assumed Dylan’s questioning led him to believe he was innocent.
We headed back inside. “You think Jesse’ll hand over Sonny’s part of the property?”
“Jesse isn’t getting the property, Odell. Myrtle has three offers on it, and she’d decided over the weekend. That’s why I was there this morning, to discuss to her decision.”
“But she’s dead now, so don’t the property go to Jesse?”
“Unfortunately, no. In the event of her death, Myrtle had the property put into a trust and instructed the trust to work with me to complete the sale. She was adamant the property be sold and not given to her nephew.”
“Well I’ll be. She went and did it, didn’t she?”
“I don’t understand.”
“She always said she wasn’t gonna let that boy get none of her money, even the hidden stuff. Said she’d rather see it go to strangers than that good for nothing boy.”
“Hidden stuff?”
“She didn’t tell you about that?”
I shook my head.
Odell laughed, a hearty, warm belly laugh. “Lord that woman. If you didn’t like her, you had to respect her. She was a tough one, that Myrtle.” He kicked a roach across his kitchen floor, and I shivered. “You know Jesse’s her great-nephew, not her nephew, right?”
“Born and raised here, Odell. There’s not much I don’t know.” Except about Myrtle’s hidden money, obviously.
“Well, I ain’t saying this is fact or nothing, but what I know is Myrtle’s pawpaw told her and her brother Buford, Jesse’s own pawpaw—” he paused. “You following me?”
I nodded.
“He told them there’s money hidden somewhere on the property. Just didn’t tell them where. Said it could be in the house or the land, but it was their job to figure it out.” He dug into the pocket of his baggy trousers, pulled out a canister of tobacco chew, picked some from it and stuffed it down behind his lower lip. I no longer wondered why his teeth were stained yellow, not that I didn’t already know anyway. “Buford could never find it nowhere, and the old fart kicked the bucket before he could get anything more out of him. But Myrtle? She claimed she knew where it was, and she never would tell her brother. He died, but not before he made his son promise to find that money ‘fore his sister did. Only he got himself killed in that car crash before he did, too. Jesse’s been trying to find it ever since.”
I’d heard a lot of stories in my short twenty-six years, but that was a new one. “You think it’s true?”
“Don’t think much about it either way, but if I had to guess, I’d say yup. Ain’t easy making up something like that.”
“You think Sonny knows the story?”
“’Course he does. Don’t think he’d be pitching such a fit if he didn’t.”
I thought out loud. “Maybe he thinks the money is buried on his part of the land.” I straightened my shoulders. “And since Wilbur worked for the county assessor…”
He spit the chew into his empty cup. “Now you’re getting it.”
I stood. “Thanks, Odell. I really appreciate you talking with me.” I rushed toward the front door.
Odell shuffled behind me. “Anytime, Lilybit. Anytime.”
“Oh, one more thing.” I pulled out my phone. “Do you have a piece of paper and a pencil?”
He hobbled back to his kitchen and returned with both items.
I jotted down a name and phone number from my phone address book. “Please give this man a call. He can come and clean out your chicken coop. The smell is horrible, and it’s not good for the chickens.”
His head flinched backward. “Those chickens smell? I darn knew my hearing was out a kilter, but I didn’t know my nose was, too.” He took the paper from me and set it on the table near his front door. “I’ll get on out there and get to cleaning it up myself. I may be old, but I’m still capable of cleaning out a chicken coop. ‘Course I can’t smell no more, but I didn’t know that till you pointed it out.”
I shrugged and raised the volume of my voice a touch. “At least now you do.”
He smiled and waved as I headed to my car and then hollered to me, “Oh, by the way, if them builders decide they want to talk to me, I might could give them a bit of time to listen.”
“I gotcha, Odell,” I hollered back.
The county assessor’s office was a short drive away, and I made it there in less than fifteen minutes. I requested a copy of the map for Myrtle’s property and the three surrounding plots. I also requested any and all previous filings, surveys, updates and disputes on the properties. I wasn’t a map expert, but I wanted to find out approximately how much land Sonny might gain if he could prove it was his.
I was told it would take three to five days for the maps, but if I paid twenty-five dollars, I could get them in twenty-four hours, so I tossed the woman my debit card figuring I’d add it to Myrtle’s bill. If I didn’t do my due diligence for the sale, it could come back to bite the new owners in the butt and damage my reputation, and I didn’t want that.
I headed back to work, but not before stopping off at Millie’s again for another bite to go.
I stood in front of her pastry counter admiring the artwork she called baked goods. Her mini muffins came in all sorts of flavors, my favorite being banana nut. I’d tried to convince her to give me the recipe, but she refused. Millie believed her recipes were a gift from the good Lord above, as she’d said, and if she shared them with the world, she’d end up living in a box on the side of Buford Highway in Atlanta. I tried to tell her she might end up with a café in Buckhead, but she didn’t want that, so her secret recipes stayed secret.
She’d just made a fresh batch of something that included apples and cinnamon. The aroma filling the café brought me back to winters past and nights filled with hot apple cider as I sat on the front porch swing and listened to my father tell ghost stories.
The memory tugged at my heartstrings. Sometimes I hated that I was twenty-six-years-old and wanted my parents close by. I knew other people my age wanted to be away from their parents. They wanted to move from their families, from their home towns, and see the world, but my world was Bramblett County Georgia, and that suit
ed me just fine.
“Well, lookie here. Twice in one day. You must be making the big bucks these days,” Millie said.
“Don’t I wish. I’d just rather be broke with a tummy full of your fabulous food than living month to month with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich made by yours truly.”
She pressed her palm to her chest. “Well, now ain’t that the sweetest thing?”
I wasn’t exaggerating either. “What is that heavenly smell?”
“It’s my new apple and cinnamon scone. I’m trying something a little different. Would you like a sample?”
“Anyone that would turn down a sample of something you’ve made should be sent straight to the looney bin, Millie.”
“Your momma raised you right.” She hollered to the back and out came a sample of the new scone.
I inhaled the bite sized piece of ecstasy like it was the last food on earth. “Oh, my stars, I just died and went to scone heaven. Millie, that is wonderful. Truly, you’ve outdone yourself this time.”
Her skinned glowed a flushed pink. “Why thank you, Lilybit. Your order is on me today.”
I didn’t argue. It wouldn’t have done me any good anyway. What Millie said in her own café was the law, and I’d learned that a long time ago. I ordered my favorite sandwich with fresh fruit and a bag of her homemade kettle chips and chatted her up while she totaled out my bill. “Have you heard the story about the buried money over at Myrtle’s?”
“’Course I have. Everyone knows that story.”
“Do you think there’s any truth to it?”
“I sure do. Word is Boone Picket, Myrtle’s pawpaw, wasn’t one for lying, so if he said there’s money somewhere on the Redbecker’s property or wherever he claimed it is, then it’s there.”
“Have you heard where it might be?”
“There’s been talk over the years, but Myrtle wouldn’t let no one check. Kept everyone away with a loaded shotgun ‘cept for the last few years when those meal delivery people started bringing her food.” Her kitchen girl came out with my meal and Millie bagged it for me. “She’d probably have shot them, too, if they didn’t bring the right meal. That woman was as mean as the day is long.”
She handed me my bag. “She wasn’t all that bad, though she did complain sometimes at our Monday meetings. She would be upset if the food wasn’t delivered on time the night before because it would ruin her sleep and daily constitutional schedule.”
“A woman my age can understand that. And she liked you ‘cause you were doing something for her. You crossed that woman, she’d draw a big X on your head and reserve a bullet just for you.”
Millie’s gossip bordered on storytelling but saying my old lady client would shoot someone was a bit extreme. I let it go though, because exaggerated information was better than no information. “Well, I’m lucky she liked me then.” I thanked her for the meal and headed back to the office.
I opened the sandwich in the car and finished it quickly. I hadn’t realized it, but I was famished. When I passed my office I’d already downed most of the bag of chips, too. I’d made the decision to skip the office entirely and head over to Jesse’s work as I stuffed the sandwich in my mouth. I wasn’t quite sure what I would say to him but figured giving him my condolences would be a good place to start.
Even though the big double garage doors to his auto shop sat open, the garage still smelled like old oil and car exhaust. Two cars sat up on raised jacks, one a beat up Chevy of some sort—I only knew by the brand symbol—and the other and old Ford Mustang. Jesse lay under the Chevy.
“Knock, knock,” I said. I didn’t want to surprise him.
He slid out from under the car, a look of irritation on his face. “Oh, hey.” He wiped his forehead with the palm of his hand and left a line of oil across it.
I shifted my weight from one foot to another. “I just wanted to come by and you know, tell you I’m sorry about your aunt.”
He stood and wiped the grease from his hands onto a blue cloth. “You found her, right?”
I nodded.
“Your boyfriend won’t even let me in the house. Said it’s a crime scene, but that’s my family’s home. I need to know what happened there.”
He wanted to know if the money had been found. “He’s my ex-boyfriend. I don’t really know what happened. I just went to see your aunt, but she didn’t answer the door, so, worried something was wrong, I went in, and when I saw her, I called 9-1-1 right away.”
“The property belongs to me now. I know you got all that legal stuff that says it don’t, but I’m her last kin, and it should come to me. I don’t want you messing around there no more.”
“Those decisions have already been made, Jesse. You’ll have to talk to an attorney if you’d like them changed.”
“I can’t afford no attorney. I talked to my aunt last night. Told her it was wrong, what she did. Don’t matter that we don’t get along. We’re still family. That house belonged to my great pawpaw. Don’t seem to matter if she thought I should get it or not.”
“You saw her last night?”
He nodded. “Went there ‘fore dark. Tried to get her to change her mind, but she said the deal was already done. Said she’d already got a buyer. That true?”
“Sort of. There are three builders interested in the property. They’ve all placed bids. I was meeting with Myrtle this morning so she could tell me which bid she’d decided on, but now it’s up to the trust to decide.”
“Won’t be a single one of them if I have anything to say about it.” He tossed the cloth onto his work bench. “And you need to keep Junior off that land. I don’t care what my aunt hired him to do, that ain’t the reason he’s there, Lily, and I know it.”
Everyone in town knew Jesse and Junior were best friends growing up, but something happened after Jesse’s parents died, and the two despised each other. Their parting hadn’t been a peaceful one, either. They flat out hated each other, and everyone in town knew it. “Jesse, I know you don’t like Junior, but Myrtle asked him to do some tree work and to keep the main lawn area maintained. If the trust continues to allow him to work on the—"
“I’m telling you, I know what he’s doing, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep him away. You understand?” His voice echoed throughout the garage.
Was he saying Junior was looking for the hidden money?
I stepped back. “Okay, well, I…I just wanted to come by and tell you I’m sorry for your loss.”
He slammed a handful of assorted tools down onto his bench without offering me another acknowledgement as I retreated from his garage.
I got in my car and hightailed it out of there. I drove around a bit trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Why didn’t Myrtle want her nephew to have the property? What kind of falling out could an aunt and her great-nephew have? And if Junior thought he could find the cash, did he really think finders keepers would hold up in court? Did Sonny think the money was buried somewhere on land he thought belonged to his family? And if it was, would the whole possession was nine-tenths of the law thing be true? My legal experience from TV did nothing for me, and it frustrated me to no end.
I headed back home thinking I would check emails and follow up with work there instead of the office. Five minutes into the drive, Dylan pulled me over.
“License and registration, please.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
He offered me that slight twitch and my insides melted. “What’re you doing on this side of town?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I had some things to attend to.” I inhaled the freshness of his soapy smell and caught myself as my mouth curved upward. The last thing I needed was for my ex-boyfriend to see me smiling like a school girl while pulling me over. He’d probably think I was flirting with him.
He rested his forearms on my opened window. “Those things include talking to Jesse Pickett?”
“Are you following me?”
“It’s
my duty to make sure the citizens of this community remain safe, ma’am.”
Gosh, he sure was cute. I hated him for it. Almost. I almost hated him for it. “So, wouldn’t that be more like stalking then? Isn’t that against the law, Sheriff?”
“As I said, it’s my duty to protect the citizens of this county, ma’am.”
I tried hard not to laugh, but despite my efforts, I giggled. “I might have stopped by. It’s been a while since I’ve had my car serviced.”
He pulled a little spiral note pad from his front pocket, flipped it open and then pretended to take notes with his finger. “You’re telling me you went there to have your car checked?”
“I’m saying it’s been a while since I’ve had my car serviced.” That wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t an answer to his question either, but it wasn’t a lie.
He grunted something under his breath and then closed the note pad and stuffed it back into the pocket.
“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”
He smirked. “Did you discuss my case with him?”
“I expressed my condolences for the loss of his aunt, yes.”
“Anything else?”
“No, not really.”
He nodded. “Okay. Might I remind you, this is an active investigation, and I’d appreciate it if you’d keep the things we discussed to yourself, and I think it’s best you stay away from anything having to do with the case for the time being.”
“Yes, sir, Sheriff.”
He tipped his hat to me. “Thank you, ma’am.”
I expected him to turn and leave, but he didn’t, so I just sat there, all awkward and nervous, with my palms sweating. I leaned forward a bit to hide the fact that I needed to rub them on my jeans. Every time my nerves got the best of me, my palms sweat. Not that Dylan would remember that, but just in case…
“Where you headed now?”
“Again, not that it’s any of your business, but I’m going home.”
He glanced into the back of my car. “No workout bag? You give up those cycling classes?”
Was he actually stalking me? How did he know I took spin classes? “They’re called spin, and how do you even know I take them? Are you stalking me now or something?”
Lily Sprayberry Realtor Box Set Page 4