by Kate Young
He followed me to work, then told me to check in before I left the diner. When he hugged me goodbye, I’d felt better. It was as if he was telling me it was okay and we didn’t have to speak of it again.
Mama and I were on better terms as well. That would make my sister happy, if I could tell her about it.
Sam was frying up three Surf and Turf Burgers, and I thought this might be the appropriate time to sneak in my thoughts on his recipe.
“What can I do you for?” Sam always got folksy when he was in a chipper mood.
I grinned as I stopped by the grill line. “I had this idea.”
“About?”
“Your Surf and Turf Burger.”
“I told you I overcooked yours just a tad,” Sam explained about the one I’d ordered for lunch earlier today. “Don’t go judging the recipe based on one bad experience.”
“Just listen and stop getting so defensive.” I patted his shoulder. “Your burgers are good.”
His face looked grim.
“Great, they’re great.”
Jena Lynn came by with the stacked boxes I had just filled. She paused to see what we were talking about.
“I’m not suggesting we change the recipe.”
“Good. It’s the only item I have on the menu. Do you have any idea how long I worked on the crab filling?” He wasn’t a happy camper.
I grabbed a white towel from the line and began waving it. He laughed and Jena Lynn went to ring up the cheesecakes, leaving us alone.
“My idea won’t change the recipe. Your burger and filling are divine.”
He gave me a cocky grin. “Damn right they are.”
“I just agreed. What I’m suggesting is we can offer my idea as an add-on. You know, for an upcharge.”
“Just tell me. You’re going to anyway.” He didn’t seem upset anymore.
“What if we added blue cheese to the burger or crabmeat?”
He scooped the burgers up and put them on a warm bun. He was listening.
“Maybe call it Surf and Turf Black and Blue. Or something.”
“That’s the best idea I ever heard.” Betsy hung a ticket on the wheel. “I wish I hadn’t had lunch already. I’d be the guinea pig for that!”
The fryer alarm went off, and Sam pulled the basket of chicken fried chicken and hooked it to drain. “We should definitely try it. We could experiment with a couple of cheeses.”
That was fine by me, as long as blue cheese was one of them.
“You know,” Betsy said before picking up her order. “I’ll just take one for the team. I can make room.” Betsy patted her stomach and grabbed her order from under the heat lamp.
It had been a good day. I walked out the door at four. That morning, Jena Lynn and I had worked out the schedule for her wedding and honeymoon. We were going to shut the diner down for the rehearsal and day of the wedding. I was making the cake, and the diner would be catering the food. Eddie would be giving her away, and I would be the maid of honor. Betsy and Heather would serve after the wedding.
Just then, I had another good idea. I paused at my car, turned around, and went back inside the diner.
Jena Lynn raised her eyebrows at me.
“I was thinking, why don’t I box up some food for Heather and her family? With her feeling so poorly and all.”
Jena Lynn smiled, “Sam,” she called through the service window, “drop a half dozen chicken fried chickens.”
“Sure thing!” Sam called back. “Want a quart of white gravy with those?”
“Yes, that should be enough,” my sister replied.
“I’ll put another turkey meat loaf into the oven and take one out of the warmer. With a few sides and dessert, she should be set for a few days,” I told Jena Lynn.
“You sound just like Nanny.” Jena Lynn gave me a hug. “I’m so glad things are getting back to normal. You and Alex are making a go of it . . .”
Betsy’s eyes went wide and her face split in a grin. She loved the idea.
“I approve, of course.” Jena Lynn went on. “And even if we lose the west side of the island, I believe things are looking up for us.”
“When we lose the west side,” I said when she released me.
“It’s funny. Today, I’m not too bothered about it either. It might be nice to try out some of our recipes on fresh palates.”
I pinched her nose like Nanny used to, and she roared in laughter. It was great to hear.
While I was at it, I decided to box up a few peaches-and-cream bars. A quick stop at Sunset Hills seemed in order.
“Hey, Bets?” I paused on my way toward the door when the order was ready.
She was serving a table of road crew workers.
“When your shift ends, would you mind running by the house and letting Izzy out for me?”
“No problem.”
I untied my apron and threw it into the backseat. I was going to have to treat it with stain remover before I put it in the wash. I had an accident with the ketchup while topping the turkey meat loaves.
* * *
The air-conditioned lobby of Sunset Hills was bright and cheery, decorated in reds and yellows, with cream accents. The tile floor was covered with large colorful rugs accented with palm trees and exotic birds. The receptionist gave me no trouble when I asked to see Doctor George.
I found him sitting in a wheelchair by the koi pond. I announced myself several times, but he never acknowledged me. Until I presented the cream bars, that was.
“Who did you say you were again?” he asked around a mouthful of cream cheese. It wasn’t a pleasant sight. Some of the cream dribbled down his chin.
“Marygene Brown. My sister and I own The Peach Diner.” I sat down on the cement bench next to him.
The old man was much smaller in stature than I recalled. He was shriveled up like an old prune. He had to be pushing a hundred. There was something kind about his countenance, though, and I could see he still retained some of his wit.
“Why do you want to know about Joseph Ledbetter’s offspring?”
“Just curious. He had two sons, didn’t he?”
The old man’s shaky hand moved over the box and retrieved his second bar.
“I can’t keep up with all the kids I delivered over the years. But Joseph, I remember. He called me up any hour of the day or night when he had some pretty little thing in trouble.”
I glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to hear our conversation.
“Pain in the ass, he was.” The old man shook his head. “Those poor girls. All of them thought he hung the moon.” More chewing.
Lord, he said girls. How many women did Mr. Ledbetter impregnate? “Do you remember if he had more than one son?”
The old man became mesmerized with a large koi fish swimming back and forth.
“Doctor George?”
“What, who did you say you were again?” After I explained who I was for the third time, I tried my question again. He mumbled on about the one, meaning Carl, and another that came out into the world fisted and ready for a fight.
“Do you remember the mother’s name? The one that had Joseph’s illegitimate son? What about this?” I showed him the image on my phone. “Does this look familiar? A file number perhaps?”
He’d fallen asleep after that. A nurse arrived and scolded me for allowing him to consume that much sugar in one sitting. Apparently, he was a diabetic. I felt awful and assured her I hadn’t known.
With the thermal bag placed back inside the trunk, I closed it. Calhoun was standing there.
I jumped. “God, you scared me! What are you doing here?”
He laughed, “Sorry. I called your name. Guess you didn’t hear me.”
“Was it that obvious?” I gave an exaggerated eye roll and scooted past him.
“I came by to speak with the administrator about the diner’s loss of the contract. I wanted to make sure my article hadn’t cost the diner the business. I saw your car parked out here and waited for you. G
uess you were here visiting someone?”
“Oh, and?” Who I was visiting was none of his business.
“Sorry.”
I gave a derisive snort.
“I can’t do anything about that now. I wish I’d never written it. And I wanted to apologize for upsetting you yesterday.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose then shoved his hands into the pockets of his khakis. “It wasn’t my place to pass judgment on your choices. I hope you understand I was simply concerned.”
“It’s okay.” I decided to leave it at that. “I’m on my way to deliver some food to Heather. Guess I’ll see you around.” I unlocked the car door.
“I’m on my way to meet with a source in Savannah. I wanted to run by here first and then I was going to come by your house. Unfortunately, I just got the call that the meeting time was moved up.”
“Source?” I was intrigued.
He gave me a distasteful face.
“Off-limits,” I said, laconically and slid into the driver’s seat.
“I do have some news I wanted to share with you about Carl Ledbetter. If you’re interested, of course.” The smirk on his face was a tad annoying. There was no doubt in his mind I’d be interested. “You going to be in the car long?”
“A bit.”
“I’ll call while we’re both in transit.”
“Okay.” I started the engine. While the convertible top lowered, I twisted my hair into a messy bun. It would be a twenty-minute drive out to Heather’s house. And I intended to allow the salty air and sun to soothe my soul while en route.
“You’re a beautiful woman.” He watched me with great interest.
I glanced at him.
“I just had to say it.”
I readjusted my sunglasses. “Thank you but—” I was about to tell him this relationship wasn’t going in the direction he desired.
“I know. You don’t feel the same way about me that I do about you.” He saved me the trouble. “I’m a patient man.”
What was that supposed to mean? That he’d wait until I did? Before I could respond, he had gone to his vehicle.
As I pulled onto the expressway, my phone rang through the speakers
“Go on and tell me.” I didn’t want to get sidetracked with other discussions.
He didn’t seem to mind. “While I was in the city, I did some digging. It seems Carl Ledbetter filed paperwork with the court to declare his father incapable of handling his affairs. There was an appointment scheduled for Joseph with a mental wellness facility in Atlanta.”
“You’re thinking that maybe Carl was worried his dad might pass the test or whatever? Maybe he got desperate?”
“Could be. I also noticed there was a piece of property on the island that was put up for sale a year before the Malcom Investment Corp. showed interest. It was the,” he paused, “Bayside Marina.”
“You better not be looking at your phone while driving,” I scolded.
“I was at a red light.”
“That’s no excuse. It’s dangerous.”
“You’re right. I won’t do it again.”
“Good. That marina was destroyed when the hurricane came through. The cost to reopen it was astronomical. Last I heard,” I pulled off onto my exit, “Mr. Ledbetter was waiting until he could negotiate a better deal with the fishermen’s association. The fees were stuck in the Stone Age, and he needed to raise the rent and dock fees to make up the loss. It was a big hullabaloo.”
“If Joseph was out of the decision-making picture, Carl could do what he wished with the property,” Calhoun said.
“Yep. That must have been one of the properties Miss Sally mentioned. What else did you find?”
“Oh. Another interesting thing I dug up was that a year ago in Savannah, a police report was filed against one of Peach Cove’s finest.”
“What? Who?”
He had my attention and he seemed to enjoy it. I could tell by his tone.
“From what I got off a buddy of mine at the station, Carl pressed charges against Felton Powell.”
“No. For what?” I pulled onto Heather’s street.
A white heating and air van came barreling down the street. “Oh my God!” I shouted and swerved, to avoid being sideswiped, then laid on the horn.
“What happened?”
“Some idiot nearly hit me. What a jerk!” I shouted. It wasn’t like the driver could hear me. It just made me feel better. “There are kids living on this street.”
“Well, at least you’re okay,” Calhoun said as I pulled back onto the road.
“Back to what you were saying.”
“Right, well, most of the report was redacted. But, from what I could dig up, Felton and Carl got into an argument that came to blows at one of the finer dining establishments in Savannah. Carl had to have a few stitches above his left eye. A few hours later, and I mean hours, the charges were dropped and Felton was released. You wouldn’t even know there was a report filed, if you weren’t good at sifting through the muck.”
Twenty-seven Castaway, that was it. I pulled into the little driveway. “But you are that good?” I put the car in park next to Heather’s minivan.
“I am.” There was a grin in his tone.
“Well, want me to tell you what I found at the Ledbetter house?”
“I’m all ears.”
I supposed this was a tit-for-tat dialogue. It was only fair. I told him of the birth certificate and what had transpired after.
He was silent for a good few minutes. “And no one came after you again?”
I told him no.
“Did they find anything that would lead them to the shooter? The department, I mean.”
“Not that I know of. But, I plan on pestering.” I shut off the engine. “And at Sunset Hills, I spoke to our old doc.” I left out his name. Calhoun would be able to dig it up if he wanted to. I just didn’t see the need to mention it. “He recalls that Joseph Ledbetter did have another son. Now, granted, the man is a hundred and can’t hold a train of thought longer than a few minutes, but I believe him.”
“Did you get a name? Mother? Child?”
“Afraid not.”
“Well, it could be something. A little digging might uncover some skeletons that the Ledbetter family wants buried.”
I let out a sigh. “Still, even with all of this, we have nothing. All circumstantial evidence that won’t hold up in court. So, Felton hates Carl. Who doesn’t? Maybe we could use that anger to get him to dig deeper. Payback.” I blew out a breath. “I don’t know. I still don’t see any solid evidence we can take to Eddie. I’ll talk to Alex tonight and see what he has to say.”
“Where is your bodyguard?” he asked.
I cringed. “He’s going to be so pissed off. I was supposed to call him when my shift ended. I never know when I’m actually going to leave.”
“You two got something going?”
“We’re old friends. We care about each other, but, no, we’re not together.”
We technically weren’t. And I still hadn’t worked through what last night meant.
“Will you call me if you get anything from your source?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Speak to you then.” I disconnected the call, got out of the car, and popped the trunk.
Chapter 32
Heather lived in a little brick house. I was surprised to find the yard in such disarray. There were rusty folding chairs sitting around an inflatable pool. The yard needed a mow. It was surprising Felton wasn’t handling the yard work for her. I would offer to send my and Jena Lynn’s yard guy over.
The front door was open and a box fan was placed in front of the screen door. I tapped on the aluminum. “Heather, it’s Marygene.” The handles of the heavy bags were starting to dig into my arm.
Slowly, the door creaked open. I’d managed to give it a good pull with my free pinky. I stepped around the roaring old fan, being careful not to knock it over.
The cream ceramic-tiled living room was li
ttered with Legos. “Heather, hon, I’m putting some meals in your fridge,” I called out, in case she was in the bath or something. Maybe she was taking a nap. I navigated through the maze on the floor into the kitchen.
I had started unzipping the bags when I overhead Heather’s cries. She was sobbing. My hands froze. A flashback of my own sobs flashed before my eyes. More sobbing and a thud.
My pulse echoed in my ears. Without another thought, I shoved the past aside and hurried down the hall. I ducked my heads into the boys’ room and the little hall bath. Messy but empty. I overheard whimpering. The sound of a defeated creature. I hated that sound. The master bedroom was located at the end of the hallway. Heather was on the floor in nothing but her robe. Her left eye was swollen shut and her lip was bleeding. A giant bruise was already forming on her left cheekbone.
“Oh, nonono!” I was on my knees next to her a second later.
She shrieked and recoiled, shielding her battered face. I knew what it was like to feel broken—for the realization I was no longer in control to strike a blow. To suddenly become aware of how fragile your security bubble actually was. Sitting in a hospital room with a broken finger and fractured wrist trying desperately to come to terms with what had happened to me. All the while hoping it was just some bad dream I’d wake up from and everything would be all right again. I didn’t want that for Heather.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s just me.”
“M-Marygene, I’m so glad you’re here.” She inched marginally closer. It took effort.
“What happened? Who did this to you?” I hated to think Felton, but I did.
“Is . . . is he gone?”
“Is who gone?” My heart hissed in my ears as I glanced around to ensure we were alone like I’d believed. “Do you mean Felton?”
Her good eye widened. “It wasn’t Felton. Somebody in a mask came through the back door while I was doing the wash. He,” she cleared her throat, “grabbed me by the hair and dragged me down the hall and into the bedroom. I-I tried to get away,” she stammered. “He hit me over and over.” She held on to my thighs.