Wed, Read & Dead

by V. M. Burns

  She shrugged. “I dunno. She was just lying on the floor. There was a lot of blood all over the place.”

  “Did the police come?”

  She nodded. “They took Mr. Hooper away, but before they got there, he said to keep my mouth shut. He said if I said anything, he’d beat me and Angelo.”

  “Where was Mrs. Hooper when this was going on?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “She works nights. She’s gone a lot because Mr. Hooper gets drunk and loses his job and then she has to work more. Sometimes they fight about him drinking so much, but then he hits her and she cries a lot.”

  “Did he ever touch you in a bad way?” Nana Jo asked.

  She shook her head. “He just hits me and Angelo.” She pulled up her sleeve and showed the bruises I’d seen before. Then she lifted her shirt and turned around. Bruises covered her back.

  I covered my mouth to prevent the gasp from escaping. I took several deep breaths and regained my composure. “Did you tell anyone? Your caseworker or a teacher?”

  She shook her head. “He said if we told, he’d make sure we paid for it.”

  One thing had been puzzling me. “Lexi, when did you learn to speak Italian?”

  “My mom and dad used to speak it before they died.” She shrugged. “I dunno. Angelo and I use it like a secret code. No one knows what we’re saying.”

  I turned Lexi so she faced me. “Lexi, I called Mrs. Hooper because I thought she might be worried about you. Right now, she is responsible for you and Angelo. I need to talk to your caseworker and find out what the right thing is to do, legally.”

  “Why can’t we just stay here with you?” Her eyes pleaded. “We won’t be no trouble and I’m sorry I took the money. I just can’t go back there.”

  “I know you won’t be any trouble, but we have to follow the rules.” I stared into her eyes. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you don’t have to go back to Mr. Hooper, but I’m going to need you to trust me.”

  She stared hard into my eyes as though she were looking into my very soul. Eventually she nodded. “Okay.”

  I hugged her and heard sniffing from behind me. I looked around and saw Nana Jo wiping her eyes.

  Nana Jo held up the twenty dollars. “Stealing is wrong, but maybe you would like to earn some money.”

  Lexi nodded.

  “I’ll take her downstairs to meet Christopher and Zaq and put her to work shelving books, gift wrapping presents, and making sure the treats are replenished until Emma and Jillian return.” Nana Jo led her away.

  * * *

  On the drive to the retirement village to pick up the girls for lunch, I asked, “What are we going to do?”

  “Well, we can’t send her back to that abusive creep. Although, I’d like five minutes alone with him.” She glared. “In the meantime, we’re going to have to ask Jenna for advice.”

  I picked up the girls and drove to the Avenue. I dropped them off at the front of the hotel and declined valet parking. I needed a moment or two to myself. I drove around behind the hotel and parked but sat for several moments with the motor running.

  My husband, Leon, and I were never blessed with children. Over the years, I’d convinced myself I was better off without them. However, the truth was, I had wanted children. When my nephews were young, I doted on them. As they grew up, they spent less and less time with me. Opening the bookstore had changed things and they spent breaks and weekends at the store and it was nice to have young people around. Lexi and Angelo were not, however, my children. Nor were they relatives. It angered me that people like the Hoopers, who had charge over children, misused their authority and abused them. The very idea made me cry. I cried for the children Leon and I never had. I cried for Lexi and Angelo and I cried for Veronica, wherever she was.

  Someone tapped on my window and I jumped. I looked and saw my sister, Jenna, looking in the car.

  I got a tissue and wiped my eyes, blew my nose, turned off the engine, and got out. “You scared me.”

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  I sighed and told her about Lexi and Angelo as we walked up to the hotel. By the time we were inside, I’d just about finished.

  She asked for the information Frank had given me and promised she would look into it. She also promised to call Mrs. Masterson from Child Protective Services.

  “Do you think I’ll have to send them back?”

  She shrugged. “They’ll have to investigate the allegations of abuse, but, in the meantime, I can ask that they stay with you until the investigation is over.” She hesitated. “If that’s what you want.”

  I was so pleasantly surprised I grabbed her and gave her a big hug. “Thank you.”

  “Sure thing.” Jenna wasn’t much of a hugger, but she endured it.

  We found the girls at a large table in the dining room. Nana Jo came from the elevator.

  “Where’s Margaret?” I asked.

  “Sick as a dog. Apparently, she has a monster-sized hangover. I barely got her out of the bathroom long enough for me to return the marriage certificate.”

  “Did you return it?” I asked.

  “Of course.” Nana Jo sat down at the table.

  We waited until we’d finished lunch before starting our meeting.

  Nana Jo started by telling the girls about the marriage license she’d found in Margaret’s room.

  Jenna looked at her watch. “Look, I have to get back to work soon. So, is it all right if I go next?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “I asked our firm’s investigator to look into that marriage license and also into Lydia Lighthouse’s background. He discovered something rather interesting.

  “Margaret Jones was born Maggie Anne Tuttleford. When she was fifteen, she married Bufford Jones, brother to Lydia Jones.”

  “So, Margaret and Lydia were in-laws,” Dorothy said. “What’s the big deal? Divorce used to be a big deal, but now, it’s common.”

  Jenna shook her head. “He couldn’t find any record of a divorce.”

  “Widowed?” I suggested.

  Jenna shook her head again. “Nope. Bufford Jones is alive and well and living it up in the Polk County Jail.”

  “Really? What did he do?” I asked.

  “Blackmail, extortion, and fraud. He’s a con man.”

  “Well, well, well. So, Mrs. Prim and Proper Margaret Robertson was married to a common criminal.” Nana Jo huffed. “How dare she insinuate my daughter isn’t good enough to marry Harold Robertson.” Nana Jo fumed.

  My sister and I exchanged glances. Nana Jo had missed the obvious. I itched to tell her, but it was Jenna’s news, so I turned to my sister. “You tell her.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “Maggie Anne Tuttleford Jones never got divorced. So, her marriage to Oscar Robertson isn’t legal. She is, in fact, a bigamist.”

  “Hot dam—”

  “Irma!”

  Nana Jo smiled. “Well, isn’t this an interesting development.”

  “I thought you’d like it.” Jenna smiled but then looked at her watch. “Sorry, but I have to get back to work.” She left money on the table for her bill and then hurried away.

  We chatted about the bombshell Jenna dropped for several seconds, but then Nana Jo got us back on track. “All right, who wants to go next?”

  Irma raised her hand. “I had dinner last night with my friend, the accountant.” She coughed. “Teddy took quite a bit of convincing.” Irma smiled and preened herself. “But, I managed to get some information out of him.” She coughed. “Teddy thinks Rudy Blakemore might have been blackmailed.”

  “What makes him think that?” I asked.

  “Rudy’s restaurant was doing well, but he suddenly withdrew a really large amount of money.” Irma took a lipstick from her purse and applied it.

  “How much is a large amount?”

  “Seventy-five thousand dollars.” She waited for the shock wave to roll over everyone before continuing. “When Teddy asked why he needed th
e money, in cash, he wouldn’t explain why or what he intended to do with it.” She picked up a knife and checked her teeth for lipstick stains before putting it down. “However, the day after Lydia Lighthouse was murdered, Rudy was ecstatic and deposited all of the money back into his account.” She looked around the table. “Sure looks like the little bas—”

  “Irma!”

  She coughed. “Sorry. It looks like . . . he was getting ready to pay someone off but was suddenly let off the hook.” She coughed and took a swig from the flask she kept in her purse. “That’s all I got, but I’ll keep working on Teddy.” She smiled.

  Nana Jo rolled her eyes. “Who wants to go next?”

  Ruby Mae raised her hand. “I might as well go.” She pulled out a bright pink baby blanket. “One of my grandsons Andrew used to do ice sculptures.” She turned to look at Nana Jo and me. “Y’all remember he did one for Christopher and Zaq’s high school graduation party?”

  We nodded.

  “And he said he’d be happy to do an ice bowl for Grace and Harold’s wedding. Don’t let me forget to tell Emma and Jillian.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Ruby Mae nodded. “Least I can do.” She paused and then picked up her knitting. “Well, I asked Andrew if he knew that Maxwell Dubois person.” She paused to count stitches. “Turns out he knows him well. They’ve been in several competitions and well, there just aren’t that many African American ice sculptors in North Harbor, Michigan.” She looked around. “We’re on a tight timeline, so I asked him to hurry and talk to him and see what he could find out.” She put the knitting down. “Turns out, Maxwell Dubois picked up and left town very suddenly on Sunday night. No one has seen or heard from him. Andrew called me right before y’all got to the retirement village to say he heard from a mutual friend that Max was back in town.” She updated the row counter on the end of her knitting needle. “He’s going over to his place and will give me a call as soon as he gets some information.”

  “Seems odd he didn’t mention anything when we ran into him Sunday about leaving town.” Nana Jo typed on her iPad.

  “Maybe he had a death in the family,” I said.

  Ruby Mae shrugged. “Beat’s me, but I’ll let y’all know tonight after I talk to Andrew.”

  I stared. “Tonight?”

  “Oops.” Ruby Mae smiled.

  I stared at Nana Jo. “What’s happening tonight?”

  “I thought we might need to let off a little steam and since we missed our girls’ night out, we were thinking . . .”

  I sighed. “But, we have Mom and Harold’s wedding plus a murder to solve.”

  “Well, we may be able to combine business with pleasure.” Dorothy sat up and smiled. “Were you done, Ruby Mae?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ve been looking for information on Felicity Abrams, and a friend told me Felicity Abrams likes to gamble. There’s a blackjack tournament at the Four Feathers tonight. My friend felt confident Felicity would be there.”

  “So, you see, we would be going, primarily, for information,” Nana Jo said.

  I looked around the table and stopped at Irma. “I thought you had a date tonight.”

  “I told Teddy I’d meet him at the Four Feathers. I’ll ride up with you all, but if things go as I plan, I won’t need a ride home.”

  Nana Jo rolled her eyes.

  I knew when I was beat. “Okay, I’ll pick you up at . . .”

  “Seven,” Nana Jo said.

  We paid our bills and went to the lobby to get our coats.

  “I’ll bring the car around.” I headed toward the door, but Nana Jo stopped me before I could leave.

  “Isn’t that Stinky Pitt talking to Lydia’s assistant, April Jones?” She pointed toward the reception desk in the main lobby.

  Standing at the counter was April Jones, with a large suitcase next to her.

  “Looks like she’s checking out,” Dorothy said.

  “I wonder what they’re talking about.” I started to walk toward the counter but was stopped when Nana Jo tugged on my coat.

  “Wait. I just got a great idea.”

  Something about the look in my grandmother’s eyes told me I wasn’t going to like her “great idea.” When I heard the idea, I was right.

  “You want to do what?” I stared at her as though she’d lost her mind.

  “You heard me. I want to search Lydia’s room.”

  “How exactly do you plan to do that? We’re at a hotel. I’m sure the police have already searched her room.”

  She looked at me. “Really? You honestly think Stinky Pitt thought to search her room?”

  I huffed. Detective Pitt wasn’t the brightest light in the harbor and, while my head wanted to argue the point, my heart told me he probably hadn’t searched the room. I needed to approach this from a different angle. “How exactly do you propose to get into Lydia Lighthouse’s room? I mean, it’s not like the front desk is going to just give you a key.”

  Ruby Mae pulled a cell phone from her purse and started searching for something. “My great-niece, Mable, used to work in housekeeping.” She stopped searching. “Here it is.” She pushed a button and started to talk. When she was finished, she had a big smile on her face. “All you have to do is figure out which room it is and Mable will meet us at the door.”

  I shook my head and sighed. “What if you get caught?”

  “That’s where you come in. You need to keep Stinky Pitt and April occupied.” She swatted my butt. “Now, get over there.”

  I sighed. Finding that marriage license last night had obviously given my grandmother a taste for a life of crime.

  I marched over to the counter and smiled. “Detective Pitt, fancy meeting you here.”

  He didn’t look happy to see me. “Mrs. Washington, what are you doing? Why are you here?”

  “We were just having lunch.” I pointed to Nana Jo and the girls.

  He looked at my grandmother.

  “Hello, Stinky—ah . . . I mean, Detective Pitt.” She waved.

  Detective Pitt’s face colored. It looked as though his jaw clenched, and a small vein on the side of his head pulsed. “Mrs. Thomas.” He nodded to Nana Jo. Then he turned to the girls and nodded. “Ladies.”

  “Hello, April. Can you excuse us for a minute?” I pulled the detective away from April. Nana Jo and the girls followed.

  “Are you about to interview April Jones?” I asked with as much excitement and enthusiasm as I could muster.

  “I was trying to before you and your gray-haired busybodies interrupted me.”

  “Sleuthing Seniors.” Irma patted her beehive.

  “What?” The detective looked genuinely confused.

  “That’s the name of our book club,” Dorothy said. “The Sleuthing Seniors.”

  “I thought we should go with something a little sexier, like Seniors and Mysteries, so our acronym would be—”

  “Never mind the acronym.” Nana Jo glared. “We’re just here minding our own business.” Nana Jo smiled, but I think the effect was lost on Detective Pitt.

  “Well, see you don’t interfere.” Detective Pitt stood straight but still only reached Nana Jo’s chin.

  “Yeah, well, I was wondering if you would mind if I watched.” I smiled brightly and leaned close to the detective. “I’d love to watch a professional in action. I’m sure you could teach us something about interrogating a suspect.” I laid it on thick. “That is what you’re about to do, isn’t it?” I looked over my shoulder at April, who was standing at the counter.

  “I was about to interrogate her before you came up.”

  “Would you mind terribly if I watched? I’ll be quiet and I promise not to interrupt. Besides, it might be good to have someone else present if you’re going to be alone in a hotel room with a young woman.” I gave the detective a knowing glance. “I mean, you wouldn’t want her to accuse you of anything. . . untoward.”

  Nana Jo choked down a laugh. “Sorry. I got something stuck in my t
hroat.”

  Detective Pitt rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I had thought of taking her down to the precinct, but . . .”

  “You don’t think she might feel . . . inhibited down at the police station?” I asked.

  “I don’t suppose it could hurt anything if you watched.” He pointed at me. “But, you be quiet and don’t interrupt.”

  I nodded. “Of course. I will be as quiet as a church mouse.” Before he could change his mind, I turned and motioned for April to join us.

  She looked even more timid than before, but she came forward. “You want me?”

  “Detective Pitt needs to ask you a few questions. I’m sure you’d feel much more comfortable in your hotel room, rather than the police station,” I said hurriedly.

  Her eyes got big and she gasped. “I don’t want to go to the police station,” she whispered.

  Detective Pitt turned to some chairs in the lobby. I could see the wheels in his head turning and knew he intended to suggest they sit in the lobby. Dorothy and Ruby Mae flopped down on the two chairs. Irma sat on the sofa and patted the seat next to her and smiled at the detective. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who’d guessed the direction the detective’s mind was going.

  He sighed. “Perhaps your room would be better.”

  “You’re in the room across from Margaret and Oscar, three fifteen, right?” I asked.

  “No. I’m on the first floor,” April said.

  “I was sure Margaret said you and Lydia were in the room directly across the hall.” I looked puzzled.

  April shook her head. “No, Lydia never liked elevators. She always liked to stay on the first floor. We’re on the first floor in adjoining rooms. I’m in one twenty-three and Lydia had one twenty-five.”

  April, Detective Pitt, and I walked down the corridor. As we turned the corner, I saw Ruby Mae on her phone and the girls were all up and ready to search Lydia’s room.

  When we got to the door, I let April and Detective Pitt enter first, stopping to fix my boot. As I stood up, Nana Jo looked around the corner so she could see which of the two rooms we were entering.

  Inside, the room was barren of all personal belongings. However, April rolled her suitcase in and placed it behind the door.