“Easy peasy,” Momma Peach smiled and buckled her seat belt. “Now, let's go have a bite to eat. And I swear, if you fart on Momma Peach again I'll beat you senseless.”
Mr. Barley shoved the car into gear and eased off the brake. “Not my fault that canned beans give me gas,” he muttered and drove away from the motel. Inside the lobby, Momma Peach had left Mark groaning and holding his sore shoulder behind the desk, but she knew he would never speak rudely to her again. In fact, she was pretty sure she had persuaded him that it was high time to sell his motel and move to a new town – after he testified in court against Bob Connor, of course. He wouldn't leave town without showing up at court. Momma Peach would surely hunt him down and feed him to a pit of hungry alligators – or worse.
Bob Connor closed his office door at the bank and pointed at a chair. “Sit down, Felicia,” he said, “and tell me what's on your mind.”
Felicia walked to the same chair Momma Peach had sat in. “Bob, if I give you some valuable information, will you let me go free?” She looked at him with wide eyes and tried to hide her wariness.
Bob sat down behind his desk, slowly folded his arms, and regarded Felicia with curiosity. “Information?”
“You have a very dangerous woman after you,” Felicia confessed. “Her name is Momma Peach.”
Bob nodded. “Tell me more.”
Chapter Six
Michelle sipped on a cup of hot coffee. “You could have gotten hurt,” she told Momma Peach from where she sat on the front counter of the bakery.
“I ain't afraid of rats,” Momma Peach informed Michelle and walked over to the front display window. The sun was just beginning to set, casting long, tired shadows over the front street. The birds were settling down for a warm night. Overhead, the western sky was beginning to transform into a bright, beautiful pink fire. “I’m trying to work this case out in my mind.” She gazed out at the sunset thinking back over everything that had happened.
“I don't like you going one-on-one with dangerous people,” Michelle said in a worried voice. Even though she was showered and rested, her body still felt tired. Sure, she was wearing a fresh, white, dress that went well with her leather jacket – and sure, she kinda felt pretty, but so what? It wasn't like she had a date waiting to compliment her. Instead, she was sitting in Momma Peach's bakery going over new pieces of evidence as another lonely night approached. “Mark Thompson could have had a gun behind the counter.”
“Mark Thompson is a coward,” Momma Peach assured Michelle. “You said the coroner called you at home?”
Michelle took another sip of coffee. “Yes,” she told Momma Peach. “Mr. Graystone was poisoned with a specific type of poison that causes the heart to instantly stop beating. It’s a poison that is very difficult to detect, but luckily, the coroner’s office had their suspicions and ran a few extra tests. Whoever killed Mr. Graystone, whether it was Floyd Garland, Felicia Garland, or Bob Connor, it appears that the killer was attempting to make it appear that Mr. Graystone died of a heart attack.”
“This poison, where can someone, say a normal John Doe, get their hands on it?” Momma Peach asked.
“Nowhere,” Michelle replied and set down the cup of coffee in her hand. “The poison was homemade. Dr. Murray was able to identify agents in the poison that affect the heart. The killer obviously has knowledge of chemistry or hired someone to make the poison.”
“Chemistry?” Momma Peach whispered to herself, remembering something Felicia Garland had told Michelle during her interrogation interview. “Felicia said she failed chemistry.” Momma Peach turned away from the front display window. “I need you to find out if Bob Connor went to high school with Felicia Garland.”
“Sure,” Michelle promised. “I have to admit, right now I don't have much on the guy. He's squeaky clean.”
“No connection to either side of Felicia's family?”
“No, Momma Peach,” Michelle replied in a frustrated voice. “I checked Nadine White's medical records. Her records only show her giving birth to one baby girl.”
“Felicia.”
“Yes,” Michelle said and jumped down off the front counter. “You said Felicia told you that there was a family resemblance?”
“That's what the woman told me,” Momma Peach said carefully, still thinking. “We gotta dig up some bones on Bob Connor. Right now, Mark Thompson's word is worth a whole lot of nothing in a court of law.”
“I agree, Momma Peach,” Michelle replied. She walked over to the window and looked out at the darkening sky. “It’s so beautiful tonight, isn’t it? It reminds me... I drove down to Savannah a few months ago and took a walk on River Street. It was cold, but...there was a feeling in the air...strange, captivating...almost like I could hear the voice of the past echoing among the people walking the streets. I felt romance and sadness, hope and fear, pain and happiness...all wrapped up into that one voice.”
Momma Peach stood beside Michelle. “I love Savannah. That's where I met my husband.”
“How did you meet your husband?” Michelle asked Momma Peach quietly. Never before had she asked Momma Peach about her husband because she knew how bad Momma Peach still hurt inside. Yet, as she stood staring out at the approaching night, standing beside Momma Peach in a bakery filled with delicious aromas, the time felt right.
“I was walking on Bay Street, getting ready to cross over to Lincoln Street and walk down to a park. I was just sixteen and, oh, baby, life was full of beauty on that lovely morning. It was mid-spring, the birds were chirping, the flowers were blooming, the parks were green...oh, the Good Lord's artwork was a sight to see.” Momma Peach sighed. “Those were some good days.”
“Momma Peach, you don't have to—”
“It's okay,” Momma Peach patted Michelle's hand. She closed her eyes and saw a young, sweet, Momma Peach wearing a soft pink dress wandering across Bay Street. “I was out exploring, you see. My folks didn't live too far from the downtown district and it was always fun to take the walk.” Momma Peach smiled. “We were poor and Papa only had the one truck. Everybody walked everywhere, in those days.”
Michelle gazed at Momma Peach's sweet face. “I bet it was beautiful.”
“Oh, it was,” Momma Peach promised. “On that morning...May the 19th...I was young, beautiful, and happy. I walked all the way down to Forsyth Park and planted myself on a park bench.” Momma Peach smiled. “I remember seeing a little squirrel fussing with a nut and the birds singing loud and beautiful. Children were out playing...mommas were talking...youngsters were out messing around, much like I was doing.”
“I went to Forsyth Park when I visited Savannah. Very beautiful.”
“My favorite park,” Momma Peach told Michelle. “It was in that park that I met my husband. That old scoundrel was working as a groundskeeper.” Momma Peach touched her heart. “My husband was eighteen and was so proud to be working a man's job. He was so proud, as a matter of fact, that he decided to talk to a pretty young Momma Peach who was sitting alone watching a silly squirrel.”
“Sounds very sweet.”
“Oh, my husband was an old scoundrel,” Momma Peach chuckled even though her heart was breaking. “He tried to charm me, but I knew his game. He pretended to be a big man even though he was just out changing trash cans,” Momma Peach smiled, “but it was honest work.”
“Everyone has to start at the bottom. I started off cleaning floors before becoming a cop.”
“That's because you're humble,” Momma Peach told Michelle in a proud voice. “My husband was humble, too. Oh, he tried to act big and proud at first, propping his boot up on the bench, acting like John Wayne trying to romance Maureen O'Hara...oh, I love me some John Wayne.”
Michelle grinned. It was a well-known fact that Momma Peach was John Wayne's biggest fan. “I know, Momma Peach.”
“I guess you do,” Momma Peach chuckled again. “My future husband cooled his act when I called him on his game. Then the future Mr. Momma Peach just asked me to have lunch
with him and I accepted.” Momma Peach fought back a tear. “The day I turned eighteen I married my husband. One year later we moved to Bakersville. Three years later…my husband went to heaven.”
Michelle saw a single tear fall from Momma Peach's eye. “You were young then. You could have remarried,” she said and reached out to wipe the tear away.
“I know the love my husband took to heaven with him still belongs to me. I’m waiting to have that love given back to me...someday,” Momma Peach tried to smile but couldn't. Instead, she let more tears fall from her eyes. “Tears cleanse the heart,” she told Michelle. Michelle wiped every falling tear away gently. “My baby,” Momma Peach patted Michelle's hand as she sighed and seemed to find peace. “I’m ready now. Let's focus on our case.”
“We have three suspects and an anonymous caller,” Michelle told Momma Peach. She walked over to the front counter, retrieved her coffee, and took a drink. “Detective Mayfield hasn't been able to dig up much on his end, either. Right now, we have a lot of corners to inspect.”
“How is Floyd Garland holding up?”
“Angry,” Michelle confessed. “But he's not going anywhere anytime soon.”
“Exactly,” Momma Peach said in a pleased voice. “With Mr. Garland behind bars, we can focus on Felicia and Bob.”
“As a team,” Michelle said in a quick voice. “Momma Peach, there's tough customers everywhere in this world. It's not safe to go off alone, okay? We work as a team.”
Momma Peach didn't argue. She knew Michelle's demand was born out of love and nothing but love. “Okay, I won't go wandering off alone anymore. Especially after having to put up with Mr. Barley's gassy stomach. Oh, give me strength, baby, give me strength.”
“Oh? Was it bad this time?”
“Like rotted sardines on a sun-scorched day,” Momma Peach said in a scared voice.
The telephone rang before Michelle could reply. Momma Peach hurried over and answered the phone, expecting the caller to be Mandy. Mandy had promised to call Momma Peach and tell her about the picnic with Mr. Orange Shirt. “Hello, how was—”
“Back off or everyone you care about dies,” a voice hissed through the phone.
Momma Peach waved Michelle over. “Cowards don't scare me.”
“Nice little girl you have working in your bakery. It would be a shame if she were struck by a car,” the voice continued to hiss through the phone.
Momma Peach felt anger erupt in her chest. She spoke before she could control her mouth: “Touch my baby and I'll skin you alive and feed you to a hungry alligator.”
“I’d like to see you try. Do as I say. Back off or I will kill everyone you care about. Betty Walker thought she could escape and now she's dead. This is my first and last warning,” the voice hissed and hung up on Momma Peach.
“Oh, give me strength,” Momma Peach said in a shaky voice and called Mandy's home. Mandy picked up on the third ring. “Mandy...you're home,” she said in a relieved voice.
“I just walked through the front door. Ralph and I were outside talking…oh, Momma Peach, he's so sweet and—”
“I'm sure he is,” Momma Peach interrupted, “but you listen to me. Stay inside and don't leave your house, do you hear me?”
“Momma Peach, what's wrong?” Mandy asked in a scared voice.
“Michelle and I are on our way over to you. Now listen to me. I want you to call Rosa and tell her to drive down to the police station. Tell her to not argue with you and just do what I say, okay?”
“Yes, Momma Peach.”
“Good,” Momma Peach told Mandy. “I am on my way over to your house with Michelle. Tell your folks to be ready to drive you down to the police station. We'll follow you.”
“Yes, Momma Peach,” Mandy said, becoming really scared. “Momma Peach, what's going on? I've never heard you sound so worried before.”
“Just do as I say,” Momma Peach said firmly but lovingly and put the phone in her hand back down in the cradle. “If anything happens to my girls I will never forgive myself,” she told Michelle.
“Did you recognize the voice on the phone?”
“No,” Momma Peach answered honestly. “I know it was Bob Connor, though. Find out where that snake is.”
Michelle nodded. She grabbed the phone and called the police station. “This is Detective Chan. I want to know the exact whereabouts of Bob Connor.” Michelle issued Bob Connor's personal details to the cop she was speaking with. “Make it quick, Jake. I'll call you in twenty.” Michelle put down the phone and looked at Momma Peach. “Ready?”
“Let's go,” Momma Peach said and grabbed her pocketbook.
One hour later, Momma Peach walked Mandy and Rosa into Michelle's cramped office, along with Mandy's parents and Rosa's grandparents. All six people looked extremely worried and upset. Rosa reached out and took Mandy's hand. “I've never seen Momma Peach so worried,” she whispered to Mandy.
“I know,” Mandy agreed.
Momma Peach closed the office door. And with much sadness, she slowly began to explain about the horrible phone call she had received at her bakery. Mandy's parents looked at Momma Peach in shock. Rosa's grandparents pulled Rosa into their arms. “Now listen,” Momma Peach said, forcing her voice to remain calm even though she was scared, “two people have been killed. So whoever made the threat has to be taken very seriously. I am mighty worried right now, so I want all of you to camp out at the police station for tonight and tomorrow you will leave town until I say the coast is clear.”
Mandy's mother looked at her husband. “I think that's a good idea,” she said in a nervous tone.
Momma Peach looked at Mandy's parents. Mandy's mother was a tall, thin woman with short black hair who was pushing fifty. But Momma Peach saw that despite all her disagreements with her daughter, the woman was a loving mother who just wanted her daughter to be happy – even though she pushed a little too hard. Mandy's father looked like a retired linebacker who could still knock the stuffing out of a bulldozer. But his worried face told Momma Peach that all he cared about was his daughter's safety. “We'll leave town and go stay with my brother and his family for a few days.”
Rosa’s grandparents looked at Momma Peach. “We don't have no family to go to and no money to leave with,” her grandfather said in an upset voice.
Momma Peach looked into a pair of loving, gentle faces lined with years of backbreaking work. Her heart broke. “I kinda figured that,” she told Rosa's grandparents in a caring voice. “Tomorrow Michelle is going to drive you to the bus station.”
“I have a friend in Miami,” Michelle explained. “I called her earlier. She would like if you stayed with her for a few days. Momma Peach and I will make sure you have enough money.”
“It will be okay,” Rosa promised her grandparents.” These are good people. You can trust them.” Rosa's grandparents looked at Momma Peach and their eyes told her they were almost too scared for their granddaughter to trust anyone – but if their granddaughter said to do it, they would.
Momma Peach folded her arms. “I am going to get to the bottom of this case,” she promised. “Right now, I must be pushing the right buttons, otherwise whoever made the phone call wouldn't have bothered to look in my direction. But I ain't gonna tolerate anyone threatening my babies. No, sir.”
Mandy's parents pulled Mandy close to them. “Momma Peach,” Mandy's mother asked, “you've always been more of a family member than a friend. We don't hold you responsible for any of this. All we ask is that you know how grateful we are that Mandy has someone like you caring for her.”
Momma Peach looked around the room, she looked into the faces of people she deeply loved and cared about, and then she walked over to the office window. “Gonna be a long night,” she whispered and looked up at a night sky filled with bright, shiny stars.
For the rest of the night, Momma Peach spent her time with Michelle digging in, making numerous phone calls, waking up a lot of people, and gathering as much information as possible.
When morning came, Michelle had two cops escort Mandy and her parents out of town, and then she drove Rosa and her grandparents to the bus station with Momma Peach. At the bus station, Momma Peach placed a thick manila envelope containing over three thousand dollars into Rosa's hand and kissed her cheek. “You tell your grandparents that I love them.”
Rosa peeked into the envelope and nearly began crying. She looked down at the dark green dress she had on and wondered why Momma Peach cared so much for a girl who wasn't very pretty. Momma Peach lifted Rosa's chin with her right hand. “Don't you go thinking those ugly thoughts, either,” Momma Peach told her. “I see a beautiful woman standing before me.”
Rosa reached out and hugged Momma Peach with all her might. “I love you, Momma Peach,” she said and started to cry.
“I love you, too,” Momma Peach promised Rosa. She heard a Greyhound bus arriving in the distance. “Bus is coming,” she told Rosa. “Now listen, that fellow over there is an undercover cop. He's going to ride the bus all the way to Jacksonville and then get off.”
Rosa glanced at a short, fat man wearing a tan shirt, standing off to the side smoking a cigarette. The man looked like a con man instead of a cop. “Okay, Momma Peach.”
The Greyhound bus eased down the street and pulled into the bus station. Momma Peach helped Rosa and her grandparents board the bus and watched them until the bus pulled away from the curb. When the Greyhound bus was out of sight, she let her tears start falling. “My babies,” she cried and threw her face into Michelle's shoulder. “He threatened my babies.”
Michelle gently pulled Momma Peach into her arms. “Get ready to fight, Momma Peach,” she whispered, “because this is war. We have a killer to catch. Our killer is lethal and deadly. We have to be careful in our fight and consider our next move very carefully.”
A Dash of Peach Page 11