by Kate Young
“Sorry to disappoint you. It was a freak thing. Now, if you’d like to take a seat, Mr. Calhoun, I’ll gladly give you The Peach Diner history lesson.”
He placed his glass on the island. It hit the surface with a little thud. “It seems we’ve wasted each other’s time. Thanks for the tea.” He left a card on the island before he left.
When the engine sounds diminished, I grabbed my cell and went down my list, calling and warning our employees not to talk to the reporter. All we needed was more bad publicity.
“Proud of ourselves, aren’t we?” Mama said from behind me and my cell phone went flying.
Mama was seated at the kitchen table, dressed in that same dress with the flowers. “Pride cometh before the fall,” she chastised. “You think you have it all figured out, don’t you? Can handle this on your own. Lying to the man with such ease. You should be ashamed.”
“I must be losing my mind,” I said.
“I would think so, putting Gouda cheese instead of cheddar in the scones.” She shrugged. “I suppose that’s a nice substitution.”
“It’s an improvement, not a substitution,” I grumbled before I realized I was responding. “I am losing my mind.” I pinched myself, hard. It hurt.
“Stop being so dramatic. You didn’t have any trouble believing in Nanny’s gift.” She folded her hands together on the table. Her French manicure was perfect.
Nanny had always been what we down here refer to as superstitious. She firmly believed in spirits and premonitions, while still holding to her Baptist doctrine. Some would say the two conflicted. Nanny disagreed, always saying, “They believe in angels but not in other spirits. God doesn’t have to explain all his ways to them. Blind is what they are.”
“You said all of that was ‘complete and utter nonsense. ’” I began pacing.
She sighed. “I stand corrected.” That was difficult for her to admit, I knew it. Her painted red lips pursed. “Sit down, Marygene. You’re making me nervous.” She fluffed her hair. Even in death, Mama was worried about her appearance.
I obeyed. “Okay.” I took a deep breath.
Nanny had said that those of us with “the gift” had the ability to see those who had passed. When they needed our help anyway.
“Why are you here?”
She glanced upward. “Like I said before, they only give me small increments of time, so I’ll be brief.” Her glance turned to a glare. “I’m trying to tell her now, Mama.”
I smiled. “Nanny is there with you. Why couldn’t I get her?”
She focused back on me with a serious expression. “It’s complicated. Now listen, your sister is going to be charged for the death of Joseph Ledbetter.”
“What are you talking about?” I leaned forward.
“Jena Lynn inadvertently poisoned the man. All the evidence points to her.” Mama’s image started to fade. “Help her . . .”
“Mama, wait!”
She was gone.
Chapter 7
Ten minutes later I was hauling tail back into the sheriff’s department. Jena Lynn’s car was still parked out front. My heart rate became erratic as I took the steps two at a time.
The cubicles were empty when I rounded the corner, running smack into Alex and Eddie having a heated discussion. Whatever they were discussing had Eddie’s face contorted in disapproval.
“What’s going on?” I was unable to hide the trepidation in my tone.
Both men turned in my direction. Eddie’s eyes held a wild glint. The only other time I’d seen that look was when he knew it was over with Mama and there was nothing he could do to alter it. Control issues were a family trait. When he nodded to his office and moved there swiftly, I followed.
Alex took my hand right before I made it to the door. “I’m here if you need me,” was all he said, his dark gaze locked on mine for a couple of beats before he released my hand and moved with a purpose toward his cubicle.
I swallowed hard and crossed the threshold to my father’s office, closing the door behind me.
Eddie was leaning against the front of his desk, his face weary. His office was a small twelve-by-fourteen-foot space, containing a metal desk, a couple of chairs, and an old-school filing cabinet off to the side. On his desk were two old picture frames holding a picture of a much younger me and a fishing picture of Eddie with his arm around Sam’s shoulders as he held up his catch, both men beaming.
Despite the issues he and I had over the years, he’d been the only semblance of a father I had growing up, and right now that was enough. Jena Lynn’s earlier words echoed back to me. He loves you. Don’t let a bad decision on his and Mama’s part ruin the relationship you can now have. Shutting him out for so long weighed heavily on me.
“Why is Jena Lynn’s car still outside?” I choked out over the lump in my throat. “I didn’t see her anywhere.” My knees were wobbly.
None of us in Peach Cove were accustomed to this sort of investigation. How could this have happened here? We lived on an island where people didn’t have to lock their doors and children could walk to school by themselves.
“She’s still being questioned,” he said, and I felt the sting of tears.
He handed me his handkerchief, and I wiped my nose. Eddie was the only man I ever knew who carried one.
“Sit down.” Eddie kissed the top of my head and helped me into a chair. “Listen to me. You did really well in your interview, pumpkin, and I’m proud of you.” He paused. “The report just came back.”
“And?” I fisted the handkerchief. My mind raced. Mama’s words, the odd order being canceled, and the unknown brand of sugar. Please don’t say it was in the sugar.
“Arsenic. The bag of powdered sugar contains high levels of the poison.”
My heart sank with the confirmation that Mama was a spirit and Nanny was right all along.
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“Someone laced the sugar with rat poison, and that poison was fed to Joseph Ledbetter,” he said in a controlled tone only he could manage.
I stared, unblinking for a couple of seconds. “I followed all of that, Eddie, but who would dare tamper with our supplies? There must be some mistake.”
“The tests were conclusive.”
“Okay,” I tried to grasp the situation, “then what can we do?”
His tone was gentle. “You don’t remember anyone unusual hanging around the diner that day, do you?”
“There were the men in town for the turtle-hatching project and the reporter.” He knew about them. They’d been questioned as well. “What about Ms. Brooks? She threatened him right in front of everyone.”
His face softened.
Right, I was grasping. “But isn’t that reasonable doubt? And what about Charlie? Did anyone talk to him?” Charlie Wallace, the diner’s janitor, began his work after the diner closed for the night.
He hadn’t been there this morning, and he certainly wasn’t here now. Every muscle in my body tensed. Could Charlie have done this? And if so, why?
“We can’t find Charlie. Jena Lynn said he cleaned the night of the incident, but with the diner being closed, she hasn’t needed his services. His neighbors haven’t seen him.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. There had to be a way out of this. “Isn’t the family always suspected in crimes like these? Carl would have motive. Jena Lynn doesn’t.”
“We’re considering everyone, pumpkin.”
“Do you know if Charlie might have something against Mr. Ledbetter?”
“Joseph Ledbetter had issues with a lot of people.” Eddie’s face was set in hard lines. “He certainly never concerned himself with pleasing his fellow man.” My birth father had two very distinct tells I’d picked up on over the years. One when he got quiet—that was when you were in real trouble—and two, when his eyes softened, you were about to receive extremely bad news. He patted my hand, and I prepared myself for the bomb he was about to drop. “Everyone who worked in the diner had access to that storage roo
m.”
I nodded to signify I was following along.
“But Jena Lynn is the only one who used the poison.”
“But Jena Lynn is here and Charlie is missing!” If that wasn’t clear evidence, I didn’t know what was.
“We’re looking for him.”
“Is Jena Lynn being arrested?” I became light-headed.
“Right now, she’s a person of interest,” he said, as if that would lessen the blow.
I deflated. “Mama, you were right,” I mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” I stared at my fingernails. They looked terrible. I’d been picking away at the polish.
I started to plead my sister’s case, to insist Eddie go before her and sing her praises to the detective and assure him she wasn’t the one responsible. Realizing how juvenile that would sound, I refrained. It wouldn’t matter what Eddie told the detective at this point. The evidence was all he would care about.
“Well, I guess someone needs to locate Charlie and get to the bottom of this mess.”
My thoughts went back to what Mr. Ledbetter had given me. I should give it to Eddie. I glanced back at my lap. He closed his fist over both my hands.
“What is it?” he asked and I hesitated.
Why was I hesitating?
I blurted, “Mr. Ledbetter gave me something right before he died.”
“What was it?” He was in full-blown sheriff mode now.
“It was a scrap of paper with some letters and numbers written on it. He said not to trust anyone with it.”
“You didn’t tell Detective Thornton?”
I cringed and he frowned.
“Where is it?”
“It’s at the house in my purse.” I expected him to scold me for forgetting my purse and driving here without my license, but he didn’t.
“I’ll come by the house and pick it up. Don’t get your hopes up. It probably isn’t anything we can use in your sister’s defense.”
It was important, it had to be.
“And,” I began, “that reporter, Calhoun, he saw Mr. Ledbetter give it to me. He came by the house asking questions.”
“He had no business showing up at your house.”
I agreed with him one hundred percent.
“I’ll have a word with him. All we need is some reporter sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“Can we reopen the diner?”
“I’ll find out. You take your sister home and try to relax.” Eddie brushed my cheek with the back of his knuckles. “You’re my daughter, pumpkin,” he whispered. “I would cut my left arm off to save you from pain.”
Oh God, I’d been so horrible to him. He’d always reached out, calling and sending me cards on my birthday. He came to every school function that I could remember, even before I knew that he was my father. The resentment grew throughout the years and since Mama passed, I’d taken it all out on him. Intentionally ignoring his calls and not involving him more in my life. No more.
“Things just got all messed up. I’m sorry, Eddie.”
He sighed. “I never should have let your mama talk me into keeping the secret that I was your father.”
He pulled me to my feet and held me against his chest. I took in his scent of Old Spice and Irish Spring soap.
“I called Zach. He’s on his way back and asked if you would stay with Jena Lynn until he gets home tonight.”
I nodded against Eddie’s chest.
* * *
I had Jena Lynn tucked away in her bed. The poor thing was understandably overwrought. At first she tried to be strong for me, but, in the end, she broke down. Her last words before she drifted off to sleep were, “Why can’t we reopen the diner?” She reminded me that the tainted sugar bag had only contained enough for the frosting for one cake, which was odd. Rainey Lane had asked specifically for a fresh cake. That call forced Jena Lynn to use the powdered sugar. That led me to believe that someone must have impersonated my sister and phoned the company to cancel her order. The only people who would know those numbers and schedules or at least have access to them were employees. The words don’t trust anyone played over and over in my mind. I hated to suspect the staff. Betsy was definitely out, no question about it. Heather took the call from Rainey Lane. I’d have to consider her.
The detective would want to close this case fast, and evidence to convict would be all he would search for. Mama had said Jena Lynn would be charged. As of this moment, she was only a person of interest, but I feared worse things were brewing.
I was sitting on the front porch of Jena Lynn’s and Zach’s beach house, going down a list of people to consider, when Zach drove up. He was a huge guy, standing a foot taller than me, with broad shoulders and a wide neck. He was the love of my sister’s life.
“She’s asleep,” I said as he took the steps two at a time. “I gave her one of those sleeping pills she took when Mama was ill.”
“Are they still effective?”
“I called Doc Tatum and she phoned in a refill.”
“I just can’t wrap my head around any of this,” Zach said.
“I understand.” Silence. “Hey, do you remember any weird rumors about Mr. Ledbetter floating around when we were younger?”
His face was weary. “Nothing more than he was a rounder and had a lot of women. Some of them married, I think. Did they find Charlie?”
“Not yet,” I said, bewildered.
“They better, even if he isn’t guilty. He could certainly shed some light on the situation. You need a ride home?”
I stood and stretched. “No. Sam and Felton dropped off Rust Bucket.”
“Rust Bucket?”
I pointed to the old truck parked across the street.
“Ah, that’s right. I think Jena Lynn mentioned you were driving Paw-Paw’s old truck.” He had his hand on the doorknob.
I could tell he really wanted to get to my sister. “I’ll call and check on her in the morning.”
He reached out and touched my arm. “She was really happy about the two of you making amends.”
I gave him a sad smile.
Chapter 8
I was snuggled in my bed, wrapped in a blanket cocoon, with the air on full blast.
“Wake up!” a loud voice shouted, and a hand grabbed my shoulder.
Jolting awake, I nearly leaped out of my skin and probably would have if the blankets hadn’t held me hostage. My brother, Sam, was looming over me, wearing a navy Magellan fishing shirt and shorts.
“Good Lord, Sam! You scared me half to death!”
His shoulders were moving up and down in silent laughter.
“What are you doing here?” I squinted, shielding my eyes from the bright sunlight shining through the window and bouncing off the white bedroom furniture I’d grown up using.
“You didn’t answer your cell, and the house phone has been disconnected.” He tossed my robe onto the bed. “I have news.”
“Coffee,” I grunted and rubbed my eyes in an attempt to clear the cobwebs.
“I’ll go start the pot.”
Desperate for caffeine, I sat up, staring at the now-empty doorway, then flung my feet over the side of the bed. Sleep had eluded me until well after three a.m. My brain wouldn’t shut down. I’d spent half an hour calling to Mama. She never showed. I snatched my cell off the bedside table—yep, it was dead. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have instructed Jena Lynn to disconnect the landline.
“Cute,” Sam said, as I stumbled into the kitchen.
I glanced at my fruit-covered sleep shorts and T-shirt and shrugged. They weren’t stylish, but man, were they comfy. I secured my robe and ran a hand through my hair, making me suddenly aware that I had major bedhead going on. The benefits of being single.
“You going fishing?” I croaked, when the aroma of a steaming hot brew greeted me.
“I was. Can’t now.” My brother thrust a mug into my open hand, and I sat down at the table. “They found Charlie last night.” He t
ook the seat across from me.
“Oh, well, that’s good, isn’t it? Now maybe we can get some answers.”
Sam’s face looked grim. “His boat is docked next to mine. When I got out there, I thought, what the hey? I went aboard. I found him. Dead.”
My mouth fell open. “Did someone kill him?”
Sam averted his gaze. “They said it looks as if he had a heart attack.”
“But . . . you’re not sure you believe them?” I cradled the warm mug between my hands.
“It was the way he was lying. Like he’d fought with someone.” Sam busied himself with stirring sugar into his mug. “I don’t know. Dad said it appears legit.”
Charlie’s cause of death wasn’t sitting well with either of us. The department had been searching for him. Surely the man’s boat would have been searched first, after his house, that was. And even if it was a heart attack, it was mighty convenient he just happened to have one during the investigation. Perhaps it was a bit presumptuous of me to question the prowess of our boys in blue, but this was too important not to. “Did they tell you when his boat was first searched?”
“It had been searched a couple of times. I had to give another statement.” My brother’s left eyelid drooped a bit, giving the illusion of a dramatically smaller eye, his tell for exhaustion. “I’m just so sick of all this.”
“Me too.”
Eddie hadn’t come by last night, so I was still in possession of the evidence. I suppose he would make a trip out later today, but I had questions now.
“What are you doing?” Sam asked as I gulped the contents of the mug and abruptly stood.
“I’m getting dressed, and we’re going down to have a chat with our father.”
* * *
The floorboard of Sam’s truck was full of Coke cans. They kept rattling together and hitting my ankles with every turn. I should have worn my Nikes instead of flip-flops.
I kicked a couple cans. “Do you ever clean out this truck?”
He opened his mouth. I was certain he had a smart comment to hurl my way, but the flashing lights stunned us both into silence. Jena Lynn was being taken out of the black Lincoln by Detective Thornton in cuffs, and Zach was being restrained. Fury radiated off him, and Alex, who was doing his best to hold him back, was looking a little uneasy.