by V. M. Burns
Brittney Keller hated her stepmother. She humiliated her at a dog show. However, humiliation and murder were two separate things. Did Brittney hate Naomi Keller enough to murder her?
June Vannover was jealous, and she said she hated Naomi Keller. There was a part of me that empathized with her. I knew what it was like to feel tossed aside by the man you loved—the man you’d pledged your troth to. There were certainly times when I wanted to kill Bambi, the bimbo I blamed for wrecking my marriage. Of course, time had helped me realize that Bambi wasn’t solely to blame. June wasn’t ready to accept that yet. She could certainly have believed that if she killed Naomi Keller, then all would go back to normal with her marriage. The question is, did she do it? Did she kill her rival for her husband’s affection?
What about the injured spouses? Was Warren Keller aware that his wife had been having an affair and planned to leave him? If he did, did he care? Would he care enough to murder her? Would Dixon Vannover have a motive? If Naomi Keller had tired of Dixon Vannover, maybe he killed her?
Tomorrow, we would need to divide and conquer. We needed to figure out which one of these suspects killed Naomi Keller, and we needed to do it quickly. Someone had pressured the head of the TBI to pick up Dixie. Who had that type of pull? Red had prevented an actual arrest, but he wouldn’t be able to do that for long. If we didn’t provide another viable suspect soon, he could be forced to arrest her. If he refused, they would simply remove him from the case and make someone else do it. We would need to move quickly to find Naomi Keller’s murderer.
Chapter 11
I was up early the next morning but found that Stephanie and David had both beat me and were sitting outside sipping coffee on the back deck. I opened the door and let Aggie and Rex outside and then poured a cup of coffee and joined them.
“Have you two been up long?”
Stephanie and David both shook their heads.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about Aunt Dixie,” Stephanie said, “so I got up.”
David sipped his coffee. “Me too.” He looked at me. “Is there anything either of us can do before the meeting tonight?”
I was so proud of the caring adults my children had become. I thought for a minute and then turned to David. “I was thinking about that too. Dixon Vannover was having an affair with Naomi Keller. He’s running for office, and I was wondering if you could swing by his campaign headquarters and volunteer to stuff envelopes or something and talk to a few of the workers. Surely, someone must have heard or seen something.”
“My political sensibilities might chafe, but I’ll do it.”
Stephanie turned to me. “What about me? Aunt Dixie has an attorney, so he may not want me mucking about.”
I waved that away. “He seemed like a nice man, and even though you’re not licensed in Tennessee, I’m sure Dixie will want you to be involved.” I paused.
“What?” Stephanie said, leaning forward. “I know that look. You have something up your sleeve. Spill it.”
“Naomi Keller’s husband, Warren, was a divorce attorney. I don’t know where attorneys hang out, but maybe Theodore Jordan, Dixie’s attorney, can point you in the right direction.”
Stephanie smiled. “If there’s a restaurant near the courthouse or, better yet, a bar, then I’m sure I’ll find out all the dirt on Warren Keller there is to find.”
“There’s a bar, but there’s also a small restaurant that has the best barbecue I’ve ever eaten. It’s run by a former football player, Moose Mitchell, and his wife, Renee.”
“Sounds great.” Stephanie smiled. “What about you? I know you have to work, but I find it hard to believe that you’re going to leave all of the sleuthing to us.”
“I’m going to find out what I can about Dixon Vannover. He’s on the board of the museum, and Linda Kay and Jacob will be able to provide some of the information I need.”
I finished my coffee and hurried to shower and dress, leaving Aggie and Rex outside with Lucky.
David dropped me off in the Arts District downtown at Da Vinci’s, the bakery nearest the Chattanooga Museum of Art, which is where I worked. Jacob and Linda Kay wouldn’t need buttering up to spill the beans on Dixon Vannover, but pastries from Da Vinci’s, along with some tea, would certainly keep the conversation going. Before he left, I reminded David that he would need him to pick me up and confirmed that he was up to the task of driving up Lookout Mountain. Part of my heart raced when I realized how excited he was about what I considered a harrowing ascent.
Pastries in hand, I walked into the museum and placed the box on the desk of Jacob Fleming. Jacob was the assistant to the executive director, Linda Kay Weyman. He was in his early twenties, thin, with dark eyes and dark curly hair, which he wore pulled back into a man bun. As always, he was stylishly dressed, with red, rectangular glasses, black skinny jeans, and a black cashmere sweater.
Jacob had unlocked my office door and opened my curtains so I could sit and enjoy the view of the Tennessee River for several minutes before starting my day. I loved working at the museum. The Chattanooga Museum of Art was founded by the Hopewell family and funded through a trust. Linda Kay and Jacob were full-time employees. I had been hired as a temp to straighten out the museum’s finances after the board hired an incompetent Hopewell family member as their accountant. As a temp, I knew my assignment could end at the board’s whim, although I tried not to dwell on that possibility. Nevertheless, it loomed over my thoughts, especially today, because I knew saving Dixie might mean antagonizing one of the board members who held my future in his hands. If Dixon Vannover wanted to, he could fire me or simply cancel my assignment. If he were involved in Naomi Keller’s murder, saving my best friend could jeopardize my future in more ways than one.
Chapter 12
Jacob popped his head in my office about thirty minutes later, letting me know Linda Kay had arrived. One of the advantages of working at a museum was there were lots of beautiful pieces of art all around me. However, Linda Kay wasn’t just the executive director of an art museum; she was an art connoisseur and collector. Her office, like her home, was full of beautiful paintings, vases, fine china, and other wonderful pieces. The incredible thing about Linda Kay was that she believed in using objects for the purposes for which they were created, so when I entered her office, I wasn’t surprised to see that Jacob had taken the pastries out of the box and had them displayed on a blue and white Blue Willow china set. I knew the set was one of her favorites and had belonged to her grandmother.
“Good morning,” Linda Kay said, beaming. “I’ve been so anxious to hear about Naomi Keller’s death that I nearly called you over the weekend. What on earth happened?”
Linda Kay was a middle-aged Southern belle. She had red hair, bright eyes, a warm smile, and a razor-sharp mind. When she was behind her desk, you couldn’t tell that she only had one leg, but she slid from her chair to her scooter and then motored over to the conference table.
My office was large and directly next door to Linda Kay’s, whose office was massive in comparison. She had room not only for a desk but also a conference table and six chairs in the section where she hosted meetings.
I gave her and Jacob the details from the dog show and recounted the attempt to get Dixie arrested for the murder.
Linda Kay gasped. “Well, they can’t do that. Anybody with the sense God gave a grasshopper would know that Dixie couldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Well, I know Dixie didn’t murder her, but the fact she not only argued with Naomi but also punched her didn’t look good.”
Linda Kay chuckled. “I wish I’d been there to see that.”
I tried not to grin, but I couldn’t control the corners of my mouth. “It was pretty funny. But Dixie can’t be the only person who wanted to deck Naomi Keller. I only just met her on Saturday, but she was definitely abrasive.”
“Abrasive is an understatement,” Jacob said.
“There have to be plenty of people who had a reason to kill Naomi Keller. Can either of you think of anyone?”
Jacob and Linda Kay exchanged glances.
“What?”
Linda Kay leaned closer. “I don’t like to spread gossip, but I had heard there was some hanky-panky going on with that Keller girl and Dixon Vannover.”
I tried not to allow my confusion to show, but I’d just shared that June Vannover had confirmed that her husband was having an affair, so I was confused about why this had generated the looks they’d just exchanged. “As I said, June did say her husband and Naomi were having an affair, but—”
Jacob waved his hand as though erasing a blackboard. “Not Naomi, Brittney . . . Brittney Keller.”
It was my turn to gasp. “You mean Dixon Vannover was having an affair with both of them? With Brittney Keller and her stepmother?”
They both nodded.
“But that’s . . . I mean, how long ago was that? It couldn’t have been recent? Could it?”
Jacob bit into his pastry. “I heard about it a couple of months ago, which is a lifetime when you’re dealing with a womanizer like Vannover.”
“Surely, he wouldn’t have an affair with both women at the same time, right?” For some reason, I found myself whispering, as though someone would hear this dirty secret.
Linda Kay shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past that little weasel.”
There was no love lost between Linda Kay and Dixon Vannover, but I still couldn’t believe anyone capable of that. “I know he’s ambitious and arrogant, but—”
“Ambitious?” Linda Kay put her cup down and turned to stare at me. “That man would stop at nothing to move up the ladder. He’d sell out his grandmother if he thought it would get him to Washington.”
“Adultery is bad enough. Trust me, I know, but this is ten times worse. Cheating on your spouse with a mother and daughter is a completely different level of sleaziness.”
“Technically, it’s her stepdaughter,” Jacob said, “but that doesn’t really make it better.”
Linda Kay and I said together, “No, it doesn’t.”
I tried to push my emotions aside and think objectively. “If Brittney had found out about her stepmother and her boyfriend, that might have given her a stronger motive for murder.”
Linda Kay nodded. “Indeed, it would.”
We chatted a little longer, but Linda Kay had to get to a meeting, and I had work to do too. David called to see if I wanted him to pick me up for lunch, but I was neck-deep in figures, trying to make sure everything was perfect for the upcoming board meeting, so I told him I’d grab something from the cafeteria.
After work, I was picked up by David, Stephanie, and three dogs. My office was closer to Lookout Mountain, so I had packed a bag with casual clothes and shoes and planned to change at Dixie’s house. When they arrived, Stephanie opened the door to move to the back seat and allow me to ride up front, but I stopped her.
“I’d much prefer to ride on the back seat with the dogs, where I can see less of the ascent up that mountain.”
Stephanie got back into the car, and David did a poor job of hiding his smile. Eventually, he allowed himself to laugh out loud, but I didn’t care.
“Laugh all you want.” I slammed the back door and buckled myself in.
I spent the ride up the mountain with my eyes closed, rosary in hand, and Aggie clutched to my chest. When the car finally stopped, I pried one eye open enough to make sure we were at the top at last. I said a prayer of thanks, wiped the sweat from my forehead, and opened the door.
The view from atop Lookout Mountain was spectacular, but I was still in no shape to enjoy it. Experience told me it would take at least thirty minutes and a glass of wine before I was calm enough to soak it in. Prior to moving to Chattanooga, I had no idea that heights were a problem for me. Indiana was flat, so I hadn’t known how terrified I was of heights until Dixie took me to her house for the first time. Usually, she or Beau would drive whenever I needed to come, or I’d drive to the base of the mountain and one of them would come down and get me. However, David’s travels had taken him to France and Switzerland, and he was not only adept at mountain driving, he enjoyed it.
I recognized several of the cars parked in front of Dixie’s house and knew that Monica Jill, B.J., and Dr. Morgan had already arrived. There was also a black BMW that I didn’t recognize. However, when we went inside, I saw Theodore Jordan drinking a beer with Beau and knew the Bimmer belonged to him.
Dixie greeted us and gave Stephanie a tight squeeze. “I’m so glad you came. I know you can’t represent me, but . . . I just feel better knowing you’re here.”
“I’m happy to help any way I can,” Stephanie whispered. “I hope you don’t mind, but I looked up Theodore Jordan and asked around, and he has a really good reputation.”
“Of course I don’t mind.” Dixie hugged her. “Thank you.”
Once I got over the stress of the drive up the mountain and my nerves settled down, I always enjoyed walking through Dixie’s home. It was gorgeous. Dixie and Beau had a large, sprawling estate atop Lookout Mountain that provided a spectacular vista over the city. The house was a Frank Lloyd Wright–inspired design, with three bedrooms and four baths. It was larger than it appeared from the front, with over 3,000 square feet of floor space. Guests entered on the main level. The back of the house had a broad wall of windows that overlooked the city of Chattanooga and the Tennessee River. However, the entertaining happened on the lower level, which included a swimming pool and a large stone deck for enjoying the million-dollar views.
When we went downstairs, I caught sight of Catherine Huntington, Dixie’s cook, placing a large platter of food onto a table that was already overladen. Catherine was a large-boned woman with gray hair, which she pulled back into a bun. She had a plain face, but when she saw me, she lit up and was transformed. Instead of plain and homely, she was intelligent and kind. Catherine Huntington had spent many years working for a wealthy Scotsman, but when he was murdered, she found herself in a precarious situation. Dixie and I were able to help her not only find a new job; she also credited us with saving her life, which technically, we did. She was extremely grateful.
“I’m so happy to see you again, Mrs. Echosby.” She hugged me and beamed. Then she turned to Stephanie. “And you’ve brought your beautiful daughter.”
“I don’t think you’ve met my son.” I beckoned for David to come over. “This is my son, David.”
She gaped at him and then grabbed his hand and pumped it as she shook. “You’re such a handsome young man, so like your mother.” She leaned close. “I’ll bet you have left a string of broken hearts all over the country.”
David smiled. “Not as many as you’d think.”
“I cooked enough food to feed an army, but if there’s anything you want, you just let me know. I’ll be happy to get it.”
We complimented her on the food, which was truly a feast for the eyes and smelled wonderful too, and then we assured her that if we needed anything, no matter how small, we’d let her know. With that promise, she hurried upstairs to bring down more, although I wasn’t sure where she’d put the dishes.
Dixie whispered, “She’s been cooking practically all night, especially when she found out you were coming.”
“What are you going to do with all of this? Unless you’ve invited your entire neighborhood to join us, there’s no way we can eat all this food.”
B.J. came up behind me. “Well, I’m sure going to do my best to take as much of this off your hands as I can.” She piled chicken wings on top of ribs and an already full plate.
“Honestly, I wasn’t sure that Beau and I needed a cook.” Dixie smiled. “After all, it’s just the two of us and two poodles, but she’s been wonderful. She cooks and cleans and does laundry.” She glanced at her husband, who was talki
ng to Dr. Morgan and Mai Nguyen. “Plus, I think Beau’s cholesterol is much better since she’s been cooking heart-healthy meals.”
“You call ribs, chicken, roasts, and ham heart-healthy?” Monica Jill asked.
Dixie glanced at the table. “Today is an exception. Normally, we eat pretty light and a lot healthier, but I let her have her way and cook whatever she wanted.” She grinned at me. “As long as it didn’t involve kidneys, hearts, or other organs.”
“It certainly looks a lot better than the haggis we had the last time I was here,” Stephanie said.
“Technically, she didn’t cook that,” I reminded her.
I noticed all the chairs were arranged in a circle and turned to Dixie. “I was just joking when I said you would need to invite your neighborhood, but who else is coming?”
Dixie was about to respond when Red and Madison came down the stairs.
I turned to Dixie and whispered, “Are you sure you want them here?”
“Beau and I talked about it. I know Red’s technically the enemy, but I trust him. He could have taken me to the police station, but he didn’t. He could have turned me over to that troll who came the other day, but . . . he didn’t.” She sighed. “I decided to trust my instincts. They’re family, and I trust both of them.”
Red moved beside me. “Can we talk?”
I nodded, and we went down the hall to a room near the back of the house, where Dixie had set up her grooming table and equipment.
“Are you okay with me being here?”
“It’s not my party. Dixie—”
“I’m not worried about Dixie right now. I’m talking about you. Are you okay with me being here? If you want me to leave, then I’ll go, but I hope you know I would never do anything to deliberately hurt Dixie. I—”
I reached up and kissed him. He held me close, and I could feel his heart race. When we separated, he looked down at me, and I could see the strain on his face. “I know Dixie didn’t murder anyone, and I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to help.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out his shield and handed it to me. “You’re more important to me than anything else, including that. I need you to know I’m not here as a TBI officer. I’m here as a friend.”