The Folly Beach Mystery Collection Volume II

by Bill Noel

  I didn’t figure she wanted me to guess. “What?”

  “You probably don’t remember, but the first time I met you we were in the Lost Dog Cafe. Either you or I, I’m not sure which, said something about one of their menu items, and a woman at the next table leaned over and said how good it was. I’d never seen her before, and to my knowledge, she’d never seen me.”

  “I remember.” How could I not have remembered? It was one of the most traumatic mornings of my life. I had stumbled on a dead body in the alley behind Barb’s Books and the foul-weather sanctuary of First Light Church.

  She continued to point the fork at me. “My point is this is the first place I’ve lived where everyone seems super friendly. It’s a bit disconcerting.” She hesitated and smiled. “But it’s endearing, I suppose endearing is the right word, regardless, that trait is beginning to grow on me.”

  “Good,” I said, but still didn’t know what that had to do with Al and Bob.

  “What’s slower to grow on me is how so many people figure it’s their mission in life to share everything they know about everyone. Seems that boundaries are often crossed. I know I’m a bit off track, but where I’m going is that in addition to Marc Salmon’s wife telling me about Joel and the candidates he was putting together to run against Marc, she told me since you and I were dating, she wanted me to know she was sorry to hear about your friends. She said Marc told her, and he’d heard it from Dude, who’d learned about it from Charles, who, may or may not have been with you when poor Al collapsed. Or something like that.” She put the fork on her plate and stared at me.

  I looked out the window and then at Barb. “To be honest, I was hoping I’d be distracted tonight and not have to think about Bob and Al. I haven’t spent as much time with Al as I have Bob, but I consider both good friends.” I updated her on their condition. I also apologized for not bringing it up earlier and repeated why I hadn’t.

  “I’m terribly sorry about your friends,” she said and reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “I’ve become jaded from years of practicing law. I was always having to look past what people said and try to figure out what their angle was, what they wanted, and not what they said they wanted. It was exhausting. I was so sick of fake smiles, fake feelings, fake damned near everything.” She shook her head like she was throwing out those thoughts. “Chris, one of the first things you told me was that newcomers to Folly either loved or hated it here. I didn’t tell you, but at the time, it was looking like I was one of the haters. The world I came from was as different from Folly as, umm.” She hesitated and looked at her fork. “This fork is from an ant colony. You’ll never know how many times I wanted to pack up my belongings and slink out of town under the cover of darkness.”

  “You didn’t appear happy, but I didn’t know how bad it was.”

  She set the fork on her plate and grinned. “Know what turned me around?”

  I smiled. “My charm, good looks, and wonderful personality?”

  Barb laughed, not the reaction I had hoped for, but it looked good on her.

  “You better add sense of humor to that list,” she said.

  I wasn’t certain if it was an insult or compliment, but either way, her laughter went a long way to improving my mood.

  She stopped laughing and said, “Dude.”

  “Dude what?”

  “Dude turned me around. For being my brother—step-brother—we’re as opposite two people can be. But, in his word-challenged way, he pointed out the good around us. I wasn’t ready to listen at first, but I started seeing examples firsthand. Kindness I’d never experienced before appeared around every corner.” She stopped and turned to the window.

  “Folly is filled with wonderful people.”

  She nodded. “And when Rocky gave his life protecting me, a near stranger, I was rocked to the core. Chris, that poor man didn’t know me from Eve, but out of blind devotion to Dude, he put himself between a bullet and me. That’s a level of friendship I’d never seen or experienced.” Rocky had been one of Dude’s two snarky employees who had learned that Barb’s life was in danger and, because of his dedication to Dude, sacrificed his own life to save Barb. “From what you’ve said, Bob has little in common with Al, but they’ve been friends for years. And if what Marc’s wife said was true, it was a friendship that was so strong that when Al suffered his heart attack, it affected Bob so much he had a panic attack.”

  “That’s true,” I said, not knowing anything to add.

  We finished eating in silence and Barb suggested that we walk to the end of the pier. I felt the tension slipping away as she held my hand while we strolled past several visitors looking over the side toward the sun as it slid down behind the island.

  We were seated on one of the wooden benches at the end of the pier when she said, “I’m glad I didn’t slink away.”

  “Me too.”

  The rest of my tension left after she suggested I spend the night in her condo.

  28

  I was about to let the entire situation go, but it still bothered me that both Katelin and Joel had lied about Lauren using drugs. I wasn’t ready to talk to Joel again, but figured it couldn’t hurt if I asked Katelin one more time about Lauren’s relationship with Joel. I didn’t have her phone number, but she’d said she was between jobs so there was a chance I could catch her at home.

  I parked in front of a large, wood frame house Katelin, Candice, and Lauren shared on East Ashley Avenue. I was surprised to see the house was new and large by Folly standards. It had a two-car garage, another rarity on the island. A red Mazda was in the drive so I figured someone was home.

  Katelin met me at the door. She saw me and blinked a couple of times. I couldn’t tell if she was just waking up or was leery of me being at her door. She hesitated and opened the door half way and looked past me toward the street.

  “I hope I’m not intruding,” I said. “I had a few questions to ask and didn’t have your number. Could I come in?”

  She glanced back in the room. “Umm, sure, I was surprised to see you. Come in.” She was wearing cut-off jeans, an oversized T-shirt, and was barefoot.

  I stepped in the large entry hall and glanced into the living room on the right. She saw me looking, said for me to go in and have a seat, and asked if I wanted coffee or something else to drink. I had already reached my coffee limit and said I was fine. She said she still needed a cup and would be back. I sat in a wingback chair across from a large upholstered couch. The furniture was old but appeared to be high quality. I heard what sounded like floorboards creaking from the second floor but couldn’t tell if it was someone up there or the wind that had picked up, rattling a shutter or some loose wood outside.

  She returned and was taking a sip from a Black Magic Cafe mug and sat on the couch across from me. She had slipped on sandals and crossed her legs. “Questions, Mr. Landrum?”

  I wished I had given more thought before I’d arrived to what I wanted to ask. “Again, Katelin, I’m sorry about Lauren. I know it must be difficult for you to lose a roommate that way.”

  She looked in her mug and shrugged. “Yeah. You know, I was afraid something like this might happen. She did it to herself, but I blame Joel for pushing her back to drugs and the dark path where they led.”

  “Why blame Joel?”

  “You mean other than he’s a complete asshole? You mean something other than because he was dating both of us at the same time—lying out his freakin’ mouth to both of us and pretending it was our imagination? Or because of what happened to Candice, our other roommate?” She jumped off the couch. Some of the coffee sloshed out of her mug as she went to the window and looked toward the street. “Did you see anyone out there when you came in?”

  “No. Are you expecting someone?”

  Her hand trembled and I was afraid she was going to drop the mug. “Umm, no. Just wondering.” She moved back to the couch and plopped down.

  I didn’t know which of her questions to respond to first b
ut felt like I was walking on egg shells and didn’t want to set her off more than she already was. I also wondered if she was on something.

  “I was curious about what you’d said about Lauren being back on drugs. Someone said that she wasn’t and I was confused.” I didn’t want to tell her that the someone who said Lauren wasn’t on drugs was the coroner.

  She stared at me and shook her head. “I thought the last time we’d gone through rehab together that she’d kicked it for sure. She was finally getting her life together, think she wanted to get closer to her parents.” She looked back in her mug. “Then Joel came along and screwed both of us up. He got her back on drugs, I know he did. And now he wants to be the mayor. What a crock.”

  “Do you think he could have had something to do with her death?”

  “Of course, he did. He got her hooked. She found out about him two timing her. He got her the drugs. What more could he have done to lead her over the edge?”

  “I understand, but do you think he could have been more directly involved. Could he—”

  Katelin interrupted. “You mean like killing her on purpose?”

  I nodded.

  “You don’t think her death was accidental?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just looking at the possibility.”

  She looked at me and tilted her head. “What do the cops think? Do they think it was intentional? Oh my God, really?”

  “I don’t think so. They’re working under the assumption it was either an accidental overdose or suicide.”

  Katelin exhaled and looked at the floor. “That’s what I think happened.”

  “Overdose or suicide?”

  “Crap, I don’t know. Either way, it was Joel’s fault. God, I wish he had never moved here.”

  “Why do you think Joel would have intentionally hurt Lauren?”

  “Anti-drugs, anti-drugs! Isn’t that Mr. High and Mighty’s big campaign pitch? Isn’t he telling everyone if elected mayor he’ll crack down on illegal drugs and all the dastardly things they cause? How will it look if his little girlfriend’s an addict? He had to get her out of the way before he started politicin’ big time. The day before she died, I hear he was telling some people he’d broken up with her and their relationship hadn’t been serious anyway.” She pounded her mug on the coffee table. “Hadn’t been serious, hah! He dumped me for her and had the nerve to say it wasn’t serious. Let me tell you, I could say some things about him that’d keep him from getting elected to dogcatcher, much less mayor.”

  “You think he killed her so she wouldn’t hurt his campaign?”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me one iota.” She jumped up from the couch again and looked out the window. “You sure no one was out there?”

  Wasn’t paranoia a possible side effect of drug use? Did her bizarre behavior indicate Katelin was on something? I said, “Do you think someone’s out there?”

  She jerked her head around and glared at me. “They have been. Are you sure …. Never mind. Do you have other questions? I’m busy.”

  I remembered she had said something about the third roommate, Candice, but figured this wasn’t the time to ask. My time was up. I thanked her for her time and saw myself out. I glanced back and saw her staring out the window. I walked to my car and looked around to see if there was anyone out here. I didn’t see anyone.

  Now what, I wondered as I drove to the house. Was Katelin being paranoid because of drugs or had someone been watching her? Were her comments about Joel being the reason for Lauren’s death legitimate, or was she a jilted lover thinking the worst about Joel because he’d left her? Did Joel tell someone he had broken up with Lauren and that possibly caused her to end her life? Then another possibility struck me. Could Katelin have killed Lauren in hopes she could get Joel back, and because he didn’t respond the way she wanted him to, she was throwing him under the bus?

  I pulled in the drive, let the motor continue to run, and stared at my steering wheel. An hour ago, I was ready to accept the police version of what had happened. Yet now, I thought I could make a good argument that Katelin or Joel could have been responsible for Lauren’s death. But, had she killed herself, either accidentally or on purpose, or had one of the others murdered her?

  I would get yelled at but took the chance and called Cindy. Instead of getting voice mail where I could ask my question without her yelling at me, she answered.

  “Yes and no,” she said as way of a greeting.

  It was now a tossup on which I hated the most: Caller ID or cryptic responses.

  “Yes, that you think I’m the most wonderful person in the world,” I said. “And no, even though you’d love to, you won’t ditch Larry and run off with me.”

  “You calling from the psych ward?” Cindy laughed. “You’ve done gone loony.”

  I was glad I got a laugh out of her rather than one of her patented rants. “I’m calling from my driveway, and some may call it a psych ward.”

  “No argument from me,” she said.

  “Yes and no?” I said.

  “It’s been almost twenty-four hours since you asked about alibis, so I figured you couldn’t wait a second longer before you started pestering me about them. Right?”

  “You got me there.”

  “Of course, I did. So, the yes is I found out if Joel had an alibi, and no if Katelin had one.”

  I waited for her to elaborate, but her small amount of revenge was to force me to ask. “Yes, you found out about Joel, or yes he has an alibi?”

  “Joel was holed up with his campaign manager during the timeframe we were given for Lauren’s death. Unless he could be in two places at the same time, he’s as innocent as baby Jesus.”

  “Did you confirm his story?”

  “Golly, gee, Chris, why didn’t I think of that?”

  “I suppose that means you did.”

  “Of course, I confirmed it, numbskull. Remember, I’m the brilliant police chief. According to Wayne Swan, he and Joel spent several hours that evening working on a brochure for his campaign. And before you ask, no, Joel didn’t leave Wayne’s house that entire time. You can mark Joel off your list of imaginary killers of Lauren Craft who you, and only you, have imagined being killed.”

  I ignored the last comment. “What about Katelin?”

  “I haven’t talked to her yet. The phone number I had for her has been disconnected, so I’ll try to catch her at home.”

  I told Cindy I’d left Katelin’s and a little about her reactions to my questions and her thinking that someone was watching her. Cindy proceeded to express in strong, unkind words how stupid it was of me to visit Katelin, and I needed to learn to mind my own business. I crossed my fingers and told her she was right and that I would butt out.

  Before the phone went dead, she responded like a highly-trained chief of police would by saying, “Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

  29

  The next morning I was drinking coffee and staring at my refrigerator as if I expected words of wisdom or a clue to what was going on to appear on it. None appeared but the phone did ring. It was barely seven o’clock so I tensed; seldom did good news come this early.

  “Chris, this is Tanesa. Did I wake you up?”

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes expecting the worst. “I was awake.”

  “Good. With my screwy shifts around here, I lose track of when normal people get up. Anyway, I wanted to give you an update.”

  She sounded upbeat. So far, so good, I thought—I hoped. “How is your dad?”

  “The best I can say is he’s alive but still in a coma.”

  “I thought he had a heart attack. Can that cause a coma?”

  “Without getting too technical, yes, he had a cardiac arrest and that led to a lack of oxygen to the brain which in turn caused the coma.”

  “Tanesa, I hate to ask, but what’s your best guess about his chances?”

  “To be honest, it doesn’t look good. Even though he’s alive, his body is frail. If he was thirty years you
nger, I’d have hope, but … well, I don’t know.”

  That’s what I was afraid of. “I’m sorry.”

  I heard her sniffle and there was a long silence before she said, “But I’m not giving up. I’ve seen people come through these doors who didn’t seem to have a chance in the world of surviving. Miracles can happen. Everything is being done medically that can be, but it’ll take more. Even if he pulls out of the coma, he could have serious disabilities. It’ll all depend on how long his brain was deprived of oxygen. Please pray for him.”

  “I will, Tanesa. He’s lived through some terrible times. He’s strong.”

  “And as stubborn as hell.”

  I chuckled. “I think he’ll pull through just to be able to sit back and watch Bob battle with customers at Al’s.”

  “He’d love that. I hope you’re right.”

  I asked if she wanted me to come to the hospital and she said it wouldn’t do any good. She’d let me know if there was any change and I thanked her for calling. She asked if I’d call Bob and fill him in.

  I’d wait a couple of hours to call Bob. His mornings didn’t start until around ten. Calling sooner would be like waking a bear out of hibernation, but more profane. Instead of incurring Bob’s wrath, I walked to the Dog for breakfast. There were three vacant tables on the front patio, but I didn’t need any of them. Charles was at a table and bent over exchanging kisses with a Labrador retriever attached to a leash held by a man at the adjacent table. I pulled out the chair opposite my friend before he noticed me. Nothing stands between Charles and a dog.

  “Whoa, where did you come from?” Charles said after he bid farewell to his new canine friend that was following its master to the exit.

  I was distressed about Al’s condition, so I resisted offering a smart-aleck remark, and asked if I could join him for breakfast.

  He stared at me and squinted. “What’s wrong?”

  “Why do you think something’s wrong?”