Murder in the Classic City

by Sheila S Hudson

  Before leaving I visited the library’s microfiche room. I pulled up some newspapers circa that year. I found an ad for a property with Hotel Rutherford’s address.

  Built in 1881 with hardwood floors newly redone. Fourteen bedrooms – eight with adjoining baths. Belonged to descendants of a robber baron. Off street parking with plenty of living space. Only slightly haunted with phantom footsteps and occasional knocking sounds. Owners must sign a waiver promising not to ghost hunt or disturb the spirits that live within. Only serious buyers need apply.

  I smiled at the ad. They forgot to add human skull in the closet and taxidermy shop in the back.

  I kept going through the local newspaper archives to see if I could get a description, blueprint, or other information on the house that was once the Smith residence and was now known as the Hotel Rutherford. When did that happen anyway? Who would stay at a hotel with Elvira Smith running it? When did Elvira die? Did Evelyn raise Erastus Jr.? And how are the McIlhennys connected. Lots of questions.

  Somewhere in the house’s history the private residence became a hotel. Could Carol have information or answers to resolve some of my questions? She may know more than she thinks.

  I rang her cell phone.

  “Hello Carol. Stephanie here. I’ve just been to the City Hall and the Library. How are you faring with the police, Georgia Power, and Pike Estate Sales?”

  “I went to Georgia Power and paid to have the electricity turned on. It will be a few days because they must run new lines. The old ones aren’t safe. No word from Detective Grimes about the identity of the skull. And Thomas keeps calling and wants to return. I’m avoiding him until the police come back with the forensic reports. Thomas doesn’t know about the skull – at least not from me. As far as the estate salespeople, I’m putting them off too.”

  “I’m anxious to share what I’ve uncovered but it is so much that I will need some time to sort it all out. There are some gaps in the historical accounts. Other documents are vague. I am hoping you can fill in some of this information. “

  “Doris and I are scheduled to visit her daughter in Dacula this weekend, so will that give you enough time? I never dreamed this would be so complicated that it would give me a headache. Why isn’t anything simple? I just want to sell the property and buy a little tea shop?”

  “Um . . . Since you mentioned it, did you know there was a new tea shop in town? Coffee, Tea, or Me,” I said.

  “No. I didn’t. How did you find out?” Carol asked.

  “Uncle Harry is dating the owner,” I said with a giggle.

  “There goes Plan A. I don’t care so much what kind of shop it is, but Doris does. I’ll have to find a way to break the news to her over the weekend. Maybe we could open a pet shop or better still a hat shop,” Carol muttered on.

  “Great idea. Certainly, something to think about. Got to go,” I said and ended the conversation. I voted for the hat shop because I shuddered to imagine those two in charge of living things.

  I had other fish to fry. Our conversation reminded me that I needed to find out more about this woman who was dating Uncle Harry, the nearest thing to family that I had.

  10

  I tried to sound casual when I telephoned Harry to ask about his lunch date with his new lady friend.

  “Hi, Uncle Harry,” I spoke into the receiver. “I just got back from City Hall and the Library. Would you like to get together so I can share what I found out?”

  His voice mail answered. I tried to keep my tone light as I left a message. Could he possibly still be on the date? It was after four o’clock, but Harry was over 21 and retired. Even in his advanced years, Uncle Harry was still quite a catch. He hadn’t shown any interest in dating after his wife died until Pamela came along. I was surprised that after that sting he was willing to ask someone to lunch. But everyone needs companionship.

  Should I visit Coffee, Tea, or Me just to scope out this creature? I wonder what she looked like and just how old is this person anyway? I parked in front of the Book Nook and found a helpful volume on the features of Louisiana. It had a full spread on Avery Island, the Tabasco© business, and some of the history of the McIlhenny clan.

  Edmund, the head of the clan, apparently fell upon hard times and joined his in-laws, the Averys, who inhabited what became known as Avery Island on the Louisiana coast. This occurred about the time that his cousin, Erastus Smith graduated from college and went to taxidermy school. He resided at the property on Hwy. 29. He met and married Elvira Mooney. They had two sons, one Erastus Jr. and the other who seems to have dropped off the planet.

  Meanwhile Edmund, who oversaw the agriculture on the island, received some capsicum seeds from a Central American source and began experimenting with different forms of sauces. He named his experiment ‘tabasco’ which means ‘place where the soil is humid.’ Eventually he came up with the perfect formula for his now famous sauce and began bottling it in old perfume bottles and selling it locally. Generations later, a descendant is still running the organization with various cousins working either full time or over summer holidays. Carol’s family must have been a direct descendant of this clan and therefore a distant niece of the Smith family. Why didn’t the Smith branch deed the property over to one of their closer relatives? Were all the Smiths gone? And why Carol? Surely there were closer McIlhenny relatives to inherit.

  I was logging questions for Carol to answer when she returned from their weekend in Dacula. Did she have any mementos from her side of the family? Did Carol recall trips to Louisiana to visit relatives? What brought her family to Georgia?

  With my notes stuffed into my tote, I decided it was time for a coffee treat. My mini-cooper headed to Coffee, Tea, or Me. It was an innocent little coffee break or was it? Even so I was careful to check and see if Harry’s Jeep was anywhere in sight.

  I took a small table in the corner and pulled out my Kindle Fire. I tried to look inconspicuous as a blonde twenty-something approached me with the menu.

  “Welcome to Coffee, Tea, or Me,” she said with a giggle.

  “It is a rather provocative name, isn’t it?” I said and smiled. Surely this was not Harry’s intended.

  “I would like a Peppermint Latte – medium size – and a scone,” I said and handed her back the menu.

  “Um. Are you by chance the owner?” I asked the coed.

  “Oh no,” another giggle. “Miss Elspeth is in the back. Is anything wrong?”

  “No, I would just like to meet her if she has a minute to talk,” I said.

  I returned to the mystery that I had downloaded on my Kindle Fire. Momentarily, blondie arrived with my coffee and scone. I buttered the scone and slathered it with some strawberry jam from the jar on the table. I had the place to myself, so I quickly became involved in reading my cozy when I was startled by a clearing of the throat.

  “Hello,” she said and held out her hand. “My name is Elspeth and I am happy to meet you, Stephanie.”

  I was quite surprised that she knew my name, but this is a small berg. Anything is possible.

  “I am happy to meet you Elspeth. How exactly do you know me?”

  “Harry speaks of you like his own daughter. But I knew who you were before he showed me your picture because I am an avid reader of the Diva series.”

  “Ah that. My editor was insistent on that. He convinced me to reveal some personal stuff on the back cover for my curious readership. I kept my identity a secret for a while. But eventually the media made my anonymity impossible,” I explained.

  “I have become friends with a number of your acquaintances. There’s Harry of course, and yesterday Doris and Carol were in here earlier. They spoke of the Hotel Rutherford and of your interest in having an estate sale. I think Carol and I may have some relatives in common,” Elspeth casually remarked.

  “Really? Interesting. I’m doing some searches on the property and tracing some of her genealogy. I’d love to talk sometime when you are free,” I said wondering what goose chase that
would lead me on.

  A young man began bussing the tables. “Austin, can you come here?” I heard Elspeth say.

  “Sure.”

  “Austin this is Ms. Hart. I think she would be able to direct you to some interesting photographic subjects in town.”

  Austin looked hopefully at me.

  “Could you email me with ideas? I would appreciate it. I do freelance stuff for lots of magazines,” Austin had those puppy dog eyes that no woman could resist.

  I nodded. He went back to work.

  Another character I wanted to know more about. What was his connection to Elspeth? Where are they from? Were they just friends or was there more? Mystery piled upon mystery. His card was simple: Austin Leach, Freelance photographer and a listing of his Gmail address.

  I needed to assimilate what I’d already discovered.

  “Congratulations on your shop,” I said as I paid the tab. I would never mention that Carol and Doris wanted to open a similar one. That would come to light soon enough. I drove home to chase what might be another clue down the rabbit hole.

  11

  The day proved to be a quiet one, so I planned to hide in my study and write. Giles was in class. Carol and Doris were in route to Dacula. Georgia Power said the Hotel Rutherford wouldn’t have electricity until after the weekend. It was just as well. Until the police took down the yellow tape, we weren’t allowed in and neither was anyone else.

  I told Carol to block Thomas’s calls and the ones from Pike Estate Sales. We could contact them when we were ready. I suppose the paranormal investigation business had hit a slow spell. I guessed that Halloween would be a big season and spring not so much.

  My cell rang and the screen showed a telephone number with a Massachusetts area code. No one I knew lived there, so I let voice mail answer. I printed the research I found on the McIlhenny clan and surfed the City Hall website to see if I could find anything on the owners of the Hotel Rutherford before the Smiths came into possession.

  Buddy Pike also telephoned and left a voice message. No news to pass on to him so I didn’t bother with that phone call either. The doorbell rang. Shoot! I should have parked my mini-cooper in the back so everyone would think I was not home. I peeked out to see Uncle Harry on my front step with a stack of books cradled in his arms.

  I opened the door with “Uncle Harry, good to see you.”

  “Help me with these please,” he responded.

  Between the two of us we managed to get these tomes to the dining room table. The books smelled musty like they’d been in someone’s basement.

  “What’s all this?”

  “Research. I got to thinking about Carol and her family as well as some of the city’s folklore, so I asked Lily, the librarian, for a favor. She went into the archives and dug these out. I don’t think anyone has looked at them in years. Maybe they will lend some light on the mystery of the Smiths, McIlhennys, Mooneys, and any other family relations,” Harry beamed.

  He seemed so proud of himself. I often wondered if he had a ‘crush’ on Carol. She and Doris were always ‘joined at the hip’ so courting either one would have been impossible. Maybe that’s why he chose to see my ex-agent Pamela and now this little lady who owned the new coffee shop in town. Even eighty-somethings need companionship. It was my job to see that he got the right kind.

  “These are fascinating Uncle Harry. It tells all about the naming and founding of Rutherford and lists the prominent families. I don’t see any of the ones we are looking for though. I suppose the townspeople were suspicious of Elvira and her sisters.”

  “Well, you can hardly blame them after the Mooney family had such calamities, deaths, and unusual ‘accidents’ occur,” he said. “Either they were the most unfortunate folks on the earth or were under a curse. Maybe it was a curse from another family or one of their own doing.”

  “You don’t believe in all of that do you?” I asked.

  “I admit I don’t put much stock in any of that, but the last few days have begun to change my mind. What about you?”

  “I’m not sure. But it does make you wonder,” I said. “What I don’t understand is how the McIlhennys and the Averys fit into all of this.”

  “I think this will explain it,” Uncle Harry said. “The script here says that a large population of Georgia moved to Louisiana to get into the shrimping industry. For many of them, that didn’t work out. By the time of this exodus to Louisiana, the Avery family had their own island and hired hands to help with crops. When Edmund McIlhenny and his family moved there and began cultivating the pepper sauce, he needed even more employees to age, taste, bottle, and peddle the sauce they later branded as Tabasco©. I’ll bet some of either the Mooneys or Smiths were part of that. Carol had to be a progeny of one of those families.”

  “Your reasoning is sound, but I wonder why Carol doesn’t know any of the family lore. If she had, surely she would have sought out any long-lost relatives when she moved back to Georgia.”

  “Not necessarily, my dear,” Harry explained. “Families are tight lipped about history that may be negative or show their ancestry in a bad light. Besides with all the time that has lapsed, maybe no one realized that the Hotel Rutherford existed or that it was run by one of their kinfolks.”

  “True enough. I’m going to copy down some of these names and dates and run them by Carol on Monday to see if she recognizes any of them. How long can we keep these books?”

  “Lily said we could have as long as ten days. But she’s a sweetheart, so I could talk her into longer if need be,” Harry said. And the male ego is alive and well.

  12

  I had my protagonist in Deadly Diva inherit property and run into similar snags like Carol. Write what you know, the classes all said. So that’s what I’m doing. That at least would kill two birds with one stone.

  I got a lot done while the twin seniors were away. I telephoned Carol on Monday to arrange a meeting at the coffee shop. I needed to know all she could surrender about her family. Did she have siblings? Cousins? Surely Carol had cousins. Everyone had cousins. Did she remember any of the McIlhenny family lore? Did she have any living relatives that we could talk to?

  The bell jingled as I pushed open the door to Coffee, Tea, or Me.

  “Hello again,” Elspeth called from the counter. “I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

  “No hurry I responded. I’m waiting for someone to join me,” I answered.

  Carol came in blustering about the difficulty in finding a parking space. She placed her tote on the extra chair. It was strange to see her without Doris. They were a package deal.

  “Thomas is going to drive me crazy,” she began. “He calls several times a day and wants to get back into the house. I haven’t got everything arranged yet and I’ve told him that. . . Oooh is that French Vanilla?”

  “Yes,” I said “I took the liberty of ordering for you. I hope that you don’t mind. I thought I told you to block those numbers.”

  “I did but I unblocked them today and I have ten messages from Thomas and six from Pike Estate Planning,” she said and then took a sip of her latte. “So, what news do you have for me about the research you’ve done. I heard that Harry was in the library asking about the Hotel Rutherford too. Is he helping us?” Carol stopped talking periodically and sipped her latte. She started to resettle the cup in her saucer and decided another sip was in order.

  “This is divine. I love this place,” Carol announced.

  “I thought you were here the other day,” I said.

  “Doris and I ducked in for a quick Coke© but I was so rattled that I didn’t take time to look around. I love it,” she answered.

  “That’s what I like to hear,” Elspeth said as she made her appearance. “I don’t think I made a proper introduction the other day. You and your friend seemed to be in a rush. I’m Elspeth McIlhenny.”

  13

  Carol took her hand. The color had clearly drained from her face. I tried not to stare. After the niceties
, Elspeth retreated to the kitchen.

  “I think maybe she’s one of your long-lost relatives,” I said. “Maybe she heard about the inheritance.”

  “If she is, I don’t remember meeting her or hearing anything about her,” Carol said. “I will go through the albums I’ve inherited and see if I can find her. And there’s the big family Bible. If there’s a record it will be in there.”

  I caught Carol up on the things Harry and I had found out.

  “I do remember some of my cousins talking about working on a farm somewhere. But I never knew exactly what they meant or where it was. I suppose it could have been on Avery Island. My family wasn’t one to attend reunions and such, so we missed a lot of the gossip about who married who and moved where and such,” Carol said.

  “Are any of your cousins living around here now?” I asked.

  “I don’t believe so. If Elspeth is part of the family, perhaps she will know if any of our kin are still alive. I am still scratching my head over why I inherited that property,” Carol said. “What puzzles me is how a skull could wind up on the shelf of a closet. And where is the rest of the body?”

  “What puzzles me is who is it?” I said.

  As it turns out I didn’t have to wait long for the answer to that question. Our beloved detective friend, Grimes, got in touch with Giles who relayed the message that the skull was one you could purchase on Amazon.com. It was supposed to sit atop one of those skeletons that doctors have in their office.

  I guess it wasn’t that strange. Uncle Erastus father was a taxidermist. But they preserve animals – not humans. Who am I kidding? This whole thing is strange. I just wanted Carol to get the estate salespeople in and be done with the whole thing. But on the other hand, it is intriguing and did furnish me with a plot for a possible Diva book. Maybe I should look at this as an adventure and not a burden.