by Kate Merrill
“Oh, give me a break and start talking.”
“My hot new client wants to buy that big monstrosity under construction up at Lakeview Estates.”
“No way!” Diana had received that listing from a young couple in financial trouble. They had built a partial foundation and studs for a six- thousand square foot mini mansion on three acres when the stock market crashed. The husband was suddenly an unemployed banker, and they were offering the property “as is” at the distressed sale price of just under two million.
“Am I not amazing?” Liz beamed. “And would you believe the client does not require a mortgage? It’ll be a cash sale.”
Diana was stunned. In the current financial crisis, such clients were manna from heaven. “Who is this guy? How did he find us?”
“First, it’s not a guy, it’s a gal.” Liz gloated. “And second, I put my business card in her hot little hand at Lori Fowler’s funeral last week. You know me, Diana---always networking.”
“Please don’t tell me you were doing business when they arrested Trevor Dula.”
“Actually, I met this woman before all that shit hit.”
“Who is she?”
Liz took a slow, seductive swallow of soda. “Would you believe the client is married to Trevor’s uncle? She is Paula Dula---that name has a certain ring about it, don’t you think?”
Diana was blown away. Her memory of Paula and her husband, Maynard, was still quite fresh. She saw them standing in the rain---Paula holding the wooden box with Lori’s ashes, Maynard shaking his fists and shouting obscenities at Lieutenant Sokolsky.
“There must be some mistake…”
“No mistake.” Liz insisted. “I’m meeting Mrs. Dula at the site this afternoon. She’s already seen it from a distance. Seems her husband supplied some of the lumber. She says she’ll bring her checkbook.”
“But where would she get the money?” Ginny had told Diana that Maynard’s construction company was on the verge of bankruptcy. “Ginny said they live in a dump.”
“Maybe that’s the whole point? Paula Dula doesn’t want to live in a dump.”
Diana could not wrap her mind around this entire bizarre event. “How does Maynard feel about buying such a property?”
“Beats me.” Liz shrugged. “Near as I can tell, Mrs. Dula’s buying it on her own. She didn’t mention anything about bringing Hubby along.”
Diana was in shock. “I don’t get it. Isn’t Paula Dula Lori Fowler’s cousin?”
“Who the hell cares?” Liz lifted her soda can in a toast.
Diana toasted back. “May I come with you this afternoon, Liz? I have to see it to believe it.”
But Liz shook her red curls. “Sorry, girlfriend, you have a shitload of paperwork to catch up with. So why don’t you put in a couple hours floor time, then collect your parrot and go on home?”
TWENTY-TWO
Dinner with Mama…
A small notice in the local paper stated that Trevor Dula would be arraigned that coming Friday afternoon at the Iredell County Courthouse, and the news sent Ginny spiraling downward---more drinking, more cursing. Sometimes she and Perry seemed like soulmates, and Diana wasn’t sure which influence was teaching little Lissa to use foul language. Either way, Matthew did not approve, moved the parrot to the bedroom they shared, and warned his granddaughter to stay clear.
Then Wednesday night Lissa stepped into a fire ant hill, and the vicious little buggers stung her feet until she screamed in pain. Matthew went running for Club Soda, the sure-fire southern fire ant killer, and doused the mounds. Diana slathered Lissa’s toes with allergy cream, while Ginny fed her ice cream, but nothing would comfort the stricken child.
When torrential rains arrived the next day, Diana decided everyone, especially Lissa, needed a change of pace, so she invited the child to accompany her to dinner with Diana’s mother. Vivian lived at Shady Oaks Retirement Community in Statesville, and it was her habit to eat with Diana every Thursday night.
“You missed our date last week,” Mama scolded as she led Diana and Lissa into the Oaks dining room.
“Sorry, it was a busy time.”
“Yes, so you said.”
Diana heard the disapproval in Mama’s voice. They spoke on the phone most every day, so Diana had filled Viv in about Ginny, Lissa, and the family’s unlucky proximity to the Lori Fowler murder. Mama highly approved of Matthew and had long been encouraging Diana to take their romance to the next level, but she never anticipated the ready-made family. She hated Diana’s involvement with the sordid crime, that was a given, yet she was titillated by the idea of finally getting a great- granddaughter.
As they entered the airy dining room and moved towards Mama’s table, Lissa took Mama’s hand. The child had dressed all in pink for the occasion, from her dainty bow and lacey dress to her flip-flops.
“I got bit by fire ants.” Lissa pointed at her feet.
Mama frowned. She was a stockings and patent leather pumps type matriarch. “Yes, I see your toes are covered with little bumps. They must be quite painful.”
“They hurt like hell!” Lissa’s high-pitched voice carried all through the room.
“Watch your language, young lady.” Mama’s stare was cold as dry ice.
“Whoops, I’m sorry.” Lissa smiled, then skipped to where a distinguished-looking white haired gentleman was laughing and beckoning them to join him.
“Who’s he?” Diana was shocked to see a man at Mama’s table. He was a distinct rarity in that sea of elderly women.
Mama was proud as a peacock with a brand new egg. “If you bothered to visit, you would know that he is Lincoln Davis. We’ve been dining together for two weeks now.”
“Sounds serious,” Diana mumbled as the courtly fellow held out chairs for Vivian, Diana, and Lissa. “Is your name really Lincoln Davis?” she asked once they were seated.
Again the hearty laugh. “I’m afraid so. Mother was a Yankee and Father was a Reb, so they compromised with my name. Please call me Linc.”
“So your parents were like my parents,’ Diana said. “Mama’s from right here in Statesville, but Daddy was a Pennsylvania farmer.”
“Yes, I know. Your mother and I have much in common.” The wink Linc tossed at Mama got her blushing to the roots of her white pageboy haircut.
Diana liked the man already. He made a fuss over Lissa and helped her choose a burger and fries from the always excellent menu. He ordered tilapia, while she and Mama opted for the sinful fried chicken. Traditional southern sides were always delicious at the Oaks. Linc’s manner was convivial, his conversation humorous, and by the time they finished dessert, Diana was very happy she had come.
“Take a look over there, Lissa.” Linc pointed to the door where a beautiful Golden Retriever was greeting the residents as they left their tables. “That’s Dory, our therapy dog. Wouldn’t you like to meet her?”
“Can I, Diana?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
The child was off in a pink blur of excitement, and suddenly the adults were alone. Typically, Mama’s conversation would then turn to Diana’s inadequacies and short- comings, but Linc diverted the topic to his many years of service as a local attorney.
Diana liked him even better. “What kind of law?”
He poured coffee for everyone. “Nothing sexy. Mostly contracts, wills, and trusts. In fact, I was old Loveless Fowler’s lawyer, God rest his soul. Poor Love would flip in his grave if he knew one of his beloved nieces had been murdered.”
“The uncle’s name was Loveless?” Diana was aghast.
Linc nodded. “Old family name. Fowler always claimed he was doomed from birth to be a lonely bachelor. He owned the brick factory here in Statesville, and anyone can do that math. We live on red clay, red clay equals brick, and everyone in North Carolina wants a brick home. So Love was a multimillionaire, but the money never made him happy.”
“I remember Loveless.” Mama took a sip of coffee. “He was two grades ahead of me in school,
and he was a queer duck even then.”
“Never married, never had children, but Love’s two brothers provided him with the nieces he adored,” Linc said.
“What happened to his money?” Mama had a knack of getting to the juicy heart of any topic. “Were the brothers rich, too?”
Linc shook his amazing head of snowy hair. “Both brothers are dead now. Lori’s daddy was a thrifty man, so he left Lori enough to buy her a fancy house in Davidson. Paula’s daddy, however, blew his fortunes on gambling, drink, and fast women. Left Paula only a fistful of change. I hear she gave that money to her husband, Maynard Dula, to start his construction company.”
“Maynard is Trevor’s uncle, and Trevor was engaged to Lori. Seems like an awfully tight little circle,” Diana commented.
“Our whole world is one very small town,” Linc said.
Diana’s mind scrolled back to Monday at the office, when Liz told her that Paula Dula was their new client. She was poised to buy a property worth nearly two million, and Diana explained the situation to her mother and Linc. “So where would Paula get that kind of money?”
Lincoln Davis put down his coffee cup and carefully daubed at his moustache with a linen napkin. Most residents had left the dining room, so the only sounds were the muted clatter of dishes being washed and the faraway chatter of the kitchen help. “That’s an excellent question, Diana. I can only assume that Lori’s untimely death has unlocked old Love’s trust fund.”
“Trust fund?” Diana and Vivian echoed in unison.
“Oh, yes.” Linc’s deep brown eyes were thoughtful. “Love set aside close to ten million for his nieces in a trust. As I recall, the money was to be divided equally between the girls provided certain odd conditions were met…”
At that moment Lissa burst into the room, shattering the stillness. She hopped up to the table and propped one tiny foot on her empty chair. “Lookee…” She wiggled her toes. “Dory the dog licked me, and now the ant bites don’t hurt at all.”
“That’s good, dear,” Mama said.
“Damn right!” Lissa grinned, exposing the gap between her two front teeth, as Mama recoiled in disgust.
“Sorry, Mama, she’s going through a phase.”
Linc laughed and stood up. He helped Vivian and Diana by easing out their chairs. “We all have bad habits…” He patted a box-like lump in his breast pocket. “Mine is smoking. I’m stepping out on the patio now to indulge. Care to join me, ladies?”
Diana checked her watch. “We need to get home.”
Mama scowled. “You know how I feel about cigarettes, Lincoln.”
But Diana’s brain was still stuck on the Fowler nieces. She turned to Linc. “Do you recall what those odd conditions were that were placed on the Fowler Trust?”
Linc scratched his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but it was a long time ago. I don’t remember one damn thing about it.”
TWENTY-THREE
Arraignment…
Diana knew all along that Ginny would want to attend Trevor’s arraignment, so when Friday afternoon rolled around, they went together. It seemed they had bonded over a murder investigation, of all things, but Diana was grateful for any opportunity to gain Ginny’s trust. Besides, by now Diana was hooked on the mystery and wouldn’t miss this next chapter for all the barbeque in Carolina.
They drove into Statesville. Diana turned onto East Water Street and approached the modern façade of the new Iredell County Courthouse. Deep shadows stretched across the parking lot and the sky was robin’s egg blue---a perfect May afternoon. County workers fled the building in droves. They were eager to start the weekend, and it struck Diana that this was an odd time to hold an important arraignment. Surely the court officials would be grouchy and restless---even the judge---which might not bode well for poor Trevor.
They parked and entered the court against the flow, and because she had been here before, Diana was not surprised by the tight security. They gave up their purses to be searched for weapons, then walked through the scanners. The process made Ginny excessively nervous.
“Do they think we’re gonna shoot someone?”
“You never know…” Diana glanced at Ginny, who had taken special care dressing in a lightweight wheat pants suit. Her dark hair was freshly washed, her makeup minimal. She had offered a half apologetic explanation for her conservative attire, saying, “Maybe Trev will need a character witness?” But Diana suspected a simpler motive---that Ginny wanted to look drop dead gorgeous when she came face to face again with her ex boyfriend.
Diana steered them towards the large courtroom where she had once done jury duty, but instead they were turned away and sent to a smaller chamber where most pre-trial hearings were held. As they drew near, Diana saw Lieutenant Sokolsky skulking off by himself. As he walked rapidly towards them, she noticed a service revolver strapped under his flapping Hawaiian shirt, plastic cuffs hung on his belt---a bizarre fashion statement.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said. “I called the house, but Mr. Troutman said you were coming here. Since this arraignment was also on my to-do list, I figured we’d hook up sooner or later.”
“What now?” Ginny eyed the lieutenant with utter contempt. “This isn’t even your jurisdiction.”
“It’ll wait ’til after.” He treated them to his famous, wolf-like smirk.
They filed into the room behind a small group of fidgety young men dressed in suits and ties. Diana guessed they were Trevor’s veteran buddies. She spotted Paula and Maynard Dula holding hands. They seemed tense as cats on a hot tin roof--- during a lightning storm.
“Hi, guys.” Ginny rushed right up to the couple.
“Hey there, Jailbait.” Maynard gave Ginny a friendly hug. He looked much the same as he had at Lori’s funeral---same black dress shirt, same gray hair--- only today his mane was controlled in a tight ponytail.
“Hello again.” Paula’s hard green eyes gave Ginny the once-over, not liking what she saw. When Ginny introduced Diana, Diana wondered if Paula’s cold appraisal of Ginny might not be pure jealousy. She still recalled the possessive way Paula had clung to Trevor’s arm at the funeral.
“I know who you are.” Paula eyed Diana with curiosity. “You are Liz McCorkle’s partner, right?”
“Yes, we share a real estate office…” Diana was about to take it further, to ask Paula how she liked the property at Lakeview Estates, but then she saw a subtle, intense warning in the woman’s eyes and the slight shake of her head. If what Liz suspected was true, that Paula had not yet shared her intention to purchase with her husband, then Diana had better let the subject drop.
“What’s gonna happen at this hearing?” Ginny whispered as the bailiff began herding them deeper into the chamber.
Diana explained that the arraignment hearing was simply a formality where the accused is advised of his rights, informed of the specific charges against him, and either released on his own recognizance or had his bail set. Sometimes, when a serious felony was alleged, the accused might be remanded to jail without bail.
“God, I hope they don’t set the bail too high,” Ginny said. “I don’t think Trev has much money.”
“Neither do I.” Maynard obsessively fingered the silver crucifix hung round his neck. The man was in obvious misery.
“Don’t worry, I’ll post the bail.” Paula haughtily shook her long blond hair. “I can afford it.”
Diana was the only one not surprised by Paula’s statement. Ginny’s eyes blinked, and Maynard’s mouth hung open as the bailiff shushed them to silence. He ushered the four of them into a row together. Paula scooted in first, with Maynard beside her, then Ginny and Diana. Trev’s veteran buddies sat halfway back, while Sokolsky remained standing.
Next a guard brought Trevor Dula in from a holding cell. Diana had expected the prisoner to be clad in the traditional orange jumpsuit, or even the black and white stripes still used for county inmates, but instead Trevor wore his funeral clothes. The guard released his handcuffs, and as
Trevor sat at a simple table left of the judge’s bench, a serious young man in a crisp suit and horn-rimmed glasses greeted him.
“Is that Trev’s lawyer?” Ginny asked Maynard. “He looks familiar.”
“Yeah, that’s Mecklin Adams all growed up,” Maynard said. “He and Trev went to school together.”
“You’re kidding? That’s Geek?” Ginny giggled. “He tutored in my school. Guy’s a real computer wiz. Does he still stutter?”
“Lord, I hope not.”
` “But we know he’s as smart as Einstein, so maybe he’ll get Trev off,” Ginny said.
“Lord, I hope so.”
As Diana listened to their banter, she watched Trevor’s face. He was pale, withdrawn, still carrying his grief for Lori Fowler like a yoke around his neck. Ginny was right. No way had this man murdered his beloved fiancée.
“All rise!” the bailiff called out, and the judge entered the room.
His Honor wore shorts under his black robe and seemed exceedingly irritated. He glanced at Trevor, then pointed to a television monitor mounted on the wall. “Why is the defendant here? We always do these hearings via video conference.”
Trevor’s lawyer inched nervously from behind his table. “Lieutenant Sokolsky from Davidson has been cooperating with Iredell. He requested that Mr. Dula be present in the courtroom today.”
The judge was unimpressed. “And why the hell am I presiding? These Friday add-ons are supposed to be held in Mooresville.”
Geek loosened his collar. “Again, Your Honor, Lieutenant Sokolsky requested the bail hearing be set in Statesville. I understand there’s new evidence.”
“Well, whoever’s pulling the strings ’round here better have a damn good explanation…”
“That would be me, Your Honor.” Lieutenant Sokolsky sprinted front and center. He beckoned to Geek. “Join me at the bench, Counselor?”
The annoyed judge crooked a finger at the two men, and they moved in close. Geek kept his head low, speaking in soft, measured tones, while Sokolsky gestured and waved his arms. Diana would have given her favorite hiking sandals to hear their conversation. The judge frowned, nodded, and shook his bald head. Finally, Diana and everyone else heard the judge say “oh shit” louder than a stage whisper.