Miss Vivee just smiled after her as she climbed the rest of the steps. I on the other hand, was in shock. I slid onto the bench next to Miss Vivee.
“What the heck is going on?” I whispered. “We’ve got to call the Sheriff. Tie her up. Something.”
“We don’t need to do anything.”
“Why, Miss Vivee,” I said. “What is it?”
“I don’t think she did it.”
“What? Yes. She did.” I said nodding vigorously. “Motive. Opportunity. Means. Remember?”
She didn’t say anything for a long time. It made me nervous. My left leg shaking, I kept licking my lips.
Now what was she thinking about?
“There’s another person with all of those things.”
“All what things?”
“Motive. Opportunity. Means.”
“Who? No it’s not and we need to call Bay so he can get somebody here to get Koryn.”
“You’re right,” she said and looked at me. She put her hand on my knee. “Call Bay. Tell him to get here. And tell him to bring the Sheriff.”
«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»
Bay came in with his mother. She looked worn out and weary. Miss Vivee went and hugged her. It was the first time I saw Miss Vivee show any affection to anyone but Bay.
“You okay, baby?” Miss Vivee asked Renmar.
“Just a little tired, Mother. They asked me a million questions.” She glanced at Tom Bowlen and Sheriff Haynes who’d come in the door behind her.
“What’s going on, Grandmother?” Bay looked at her. “I’m trying to work this case. And you’re getting in the way.” He cocked his head to one side. “What are you up to?” He directed his questions to Miss Vivee, but looked at me.
I held up my hands. “I had nothing to do with this.” I shook my head. “I thought Koryn did it.”
“Did what?” Bay and Renmar asked almost simultaneously.
“Kill Oliver.” I said.
“Kill Oliver,” Renmar repeated barely audible.
“Yeah. But Miss Vivee, who I might add put all the clues together that led me to believe that, has changed her mind and wanted to tell you all about it.”
“See what I mean about you being a tattletale, Missy?” Miss Vivee frowned her face up at me. “Tongue always wagging.”
“Grandmother,” Bay said. He dropped his shoulders and let out a breath. “I told you don’t go putting your nose into this.”
“If you think I’d let my daughter go down and do a stint at the big house for a crime she didn’t commit, you got another thought coming.”
Miss Vivee could have been a scriptwriter for Goodfellas.
“Look,” Bay said. “I’ve got to go. I don’t want my mother ‘going down’ for a crime she didn’t do either. But Tom and I will solve this. Okay?”
“Okay,” Miss Vivee said. “But I’d be careful of ole Tom Bowlen there.” She pointed to him. “I don’t know if he really would be any help in finding out who killed Oliver.”
“And why is that, Grandmother?” Bay asked. He seemed drained, too tired to put up with Miss Vivee’s antics.
“Because he’s the one that did it,” Miss Vivee said.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Tom laughed. “How absurd,” he said and looked at Bay. “You don’t believe her do you?”
“How’s your wife?” Miss Vivee asked him.
“Tom doesn’t have a wife, Grandmother.” Bay shook his head and closed his eyes.
“I know that,” she said. “No ring.”
“B-But . . . He told me – us that he had a wife,” I said and looked at Miss Vivee.
Everyone looked at me.
“At the repast. Came into Miss Vivee’s greenhouse and said he had a beautiful wife.”
“Brown hair and violet eyes if I remember right. Isn’t that so, Mr. Bowlen?” Miss Vivee added.
“You must’ve misunderstood me,” he let out a nervous chuckle.
“No. I don’t think I did,” Miss Vivee said. “Isn’t that what you heard, Logan?”
“Yes ma’am,” I said. “That’s what I heard.”
I didn’t know where Miss Vivee was going with this, but I definitely knew that this guy was lying.
“Brown hair that’s now dyed white-blonde,” Miss Vivee said in a teasing voice.
“Lindsey Grace?” I said, more than a hint of surprise in my voice. Memories of Mac’s comment about dying her roots brown came flooding back. “Is that your wife?” I asked.
“Ex-wife,” Bay interjected. “I told you he isn’t married.” He looked at Tom. “Is Lindsey your ex, Tom? Because if she is that might compromise things. She’s a suspect.”
“A suspect? She couldn’t hurt a fly.” He shook his head and eyed Miss Vivee. “Yeah, she is my wife. But she’s not a suspect.”
“Of course she isn’t because you’re the culprit,” Miss Vivee said.
“Grandmother,” Bay said. “Let me do this.”
“Do what?” Tom seemed surprise that Bay gave Miss Vivee even the slightest bit of recognition. “Surely you couldn’t think-”
“Think that my grandmother could be right?” Bay said. “Like I always say, my grandmother knows everything.”
“Ask him why he was the first one at the shoal that day?” Miss Vivee said.
“Why were you, Tom?”
“You know why, Bay. I’d been visiting family at home. In Dover. You knew that.”
“Is that why you had a gun on you?” Miss Vivee asked. “Because I’ve noticed ever since that day, you haven’t carried one.”
“I didn’t have a gun,” he said as if the notion was ludicrous. “I can’t carry a gun in my position.”
“You had one that day,” Sheriff Haynes spoke up for the first time.
“Oh. Okay. Now I remember,” Tom said running his tongue over his bottom lip. “It was my personal revolver from home. I have a permit. County permit which covers Yasamee. And Dover.”
“Where you and Lindsey lived before she divorced you and changed her name,” Miss Vivee said.
“Grandmother,” Bay warned.
“I don’t know why she changed her name,” Tom said. “All of this wasn’t permanent. The Divorce. Her moving here. We were going to get back together.” He licked his lips. “Eventually.”
“Not now. Not since she’d taken up with Oliver. Ole cheating Oliver, huh, Tom? He was breaking her heart.” Miss Vivee looked at me. “What did he say about protecting his wife, Logan?”
Now I saw where she was going.
“Said he do anything to protect her,” I said smiling, happy to be helpful. “Said he’d protect her with his life.”
“Would that include getting rid of someone that broke her heart? Made her cry, Tom?” Miss Vivee was on a roll.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tom said.
“Grandmother!” Bay looked like he was going to pounce on her if she didn’t stop asking questions.
“Okay, Grandson. No more questions. But how about if you ask him what he uses as a pesticide in his little greenhouse?”
Bay flapped his hands on his side. “Why am I even trying to stop you?” He gestured toward his grandmother. “Answer her question, Tom.”
“I don’t have a greenhouse,” he smirked.
Bay looked at his grandmother and studied her for a moment. Miss Vivee didn’t flinch she kept her eyes locked on Tom. Bay looked back at him. “Do you have plants?”
“Sure. Who doesn’t?”
“A lot of plants?” Bay asked.
“Not as many as your grandmother.”
“Tom,” Bay’s voice became sterner. “Don’t play word games with me.”
“I said I have plants,” Tom grumbled.
“Do you use a pesticide on them?” Bay asked.
“Yeah. I do. But that’s no concern of yours. Doesn’t mean anything,” Tom said. He was starting to fidget, shifting his weight from one brown leather wing-tipped shoed foot to the other.
/> “If it doesn’t mean anything, Tom, then just tell me.”
Tom didn’t say anything for a long moment. He was thinking, it seemed. Thinking really hard. “You’d need probable cause to search anything at my house. Fourth Amendment.” Tom’s finally said, his eyes darting from Bay to the Sheriff’s then to the door. “And a little old lady’s speculation is not probable cause.”
Renmar shuddered at his answer, but it made Miss Vivee smile.
“Got him,” she whispered to me.
The Sheriff slide in front of the door. Spread his legs shoulder width apart and let the palm of his hand rest on the handle of his holstered gun.
“I don’t need probable cause if I’ve got exigent circumstances, Tom. Don’t even need a warrant,” Bay said arching an eyebrow. “If I suspect you have nicotine over at your house, and I believe you will try to destroy it before I could get a warrant, I can go in without one.”
“Lots of people have nicotine, I’m sure,” Tom said.
“I’m sure of that, too, Tom. But everyone’s nicotine won’t match the chemical composition of the nicotine found in Oliver’s body. So how about if we eliminate you as a person of interest and see if the nicotine you have at your house matches anything?”
“You won’t see anything at my house.” Tom voice got more forceful, but he didn’t move from where he stood.
“You got those Mason jars out of my trash, didn’t you?” Renmar said, her worn look had turned into one of rage. “You planted them at Oliver’s,” she shouted at him. “That’s the only way that jar could have gotten there.”
“That day at the repast. Huh, Tom? When you were helping clean up.” Miss Vivee said. “Is that when you found them while you were on ‘trash detail,’ as you put it.”
He took in a breath and shook his head. A smile on his face. “Didn’t know whose fingerprints was on them,” he chuckled. “Just happened to be yours, Renmar.” He looked at Bay. “Sorry about that,” he said in a voice that was almost taunting.
“You son-of-a . . .” Bay struck Tom across the jaw, so hard that he flew backwards into the Sheriff’s arms.
“Cuff him, Lloyd.”
“You’ll pay for that, Bay,” Tom said. “You can’t hit people like that and get away with it.”
“Hit who, Tom? I didn’t hit you. Anyone in here see me hit Tom?
“No,” we said in chorus.
“Let’s go, Sheriff,” Bay said. As he walked past us, Bay pointed his finger at me and Miss Vivee. “I told you two to stay out of this.” My eyes got big as he spoke. “The next pair of handcuffs may just be for the two of you.”
Epilogue
Sydney went back home to Savannah. She’d said before she left that even though she had always lived there without Oliver, she always knew he wasn’t far off, and now she didn’t know how her heart could go on beating. She was going to miss him. She promised to come back often and told Renmar to be sure to look after Oliver’s house.
She called it Oliver’s.
She said that Oliver had told her how much he cared for her and he truly felt her family and now so did she. Everyone at the Maypop, she said.
The investigation of Oliver’s murder went back to Sheriff Haynes, with offered help from the FBI because Oliver had been poisoned in his home. That was definitely within his jurisdiction.
Ron Anderson was arrested for attempted murder. He had rewired the switch, trying to kill Sydney. He went to a lawyer to get help with an injunction. Why not just contest the will? Charlie, good wife that she was, hung around in Yasamee until after he was arraigned. Then she took off for home. She got him a lawyer, but said that he could sink or swim, she didn’t want any part of him.
Good for her.
And speaking of swimming . . .
Renmar and Oliver’s fish . . . My fish . . . made a big splash in the world of ichthyology. The once thought extinct fish landed me a big time promotion in the Archaeology Conservancy. I had almost as much clout as my mother.
Tom had tried to be too clever for his own good. His self-assured arrogance got the best of him. Although, Miss Vivee said he didn’t give everything away. Some things she had to deduce.
Now who was patting themselves on their back?
She’d known, she said, that the only other use of nicotine was for a pesticide. And it was easy to make from tobacco leaves. And being a history buff, she figured Tom knew about that story she and Mac had told me about the first recorded murder by nicotine. She noticed his hand when he moved the plant for her that there was no ring on his finger, which aroused her suspicion of whether he was really married.
But how she knew he was Lindsey Grace’s husband was because when both Lindsey and Mary Beth made references to Lindsey’s husband they both indicated with a jerk of their heads that he was in the church. She knew everyone’s family in attendance except for Tom’s.
“I bet Mac is sorry he missed the uncovering of the killer,” I said. Miss Vivee, Cat and I were sitting on our favorite bench in the foyer.
“Mac has other things on his mind,” Miss Vivee said stroking Cat.
“What could be more important than being with you?”
“Picking out a ring evidently,” she said.
“What?”
“He asked me to marry him.”
“Are you going to marry him?” I asked.
“God no. What for?” she chuckled. “We’re ninety years old and then some. The only time we got left to spend together is lying next to each other in the cemetery.” She turned and smiled at me. “I was thinking that I might go over his house, though. Maybe play a little Bingo.”
The End
Thank you for taking time to read Bed & Breakfast Bedlam. Look for the rest of the books in the Logan Dickerson Cozy Mystery Series coming soon. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends about it. And don’t forget to take the time to click on the link and post a short review.
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A Note from the Author
The second in my cozy mystery series, Coastal Cottage Calamity, was a lot of fun to write and I hope you enjoyed reading it. There is more to come in this series, so be sure to follow Logan, Bay and Miss Vivee on their adventures – they’ll be filled with mystery, murder and even a little romance.
Logan Dickerson is the daughter of the main character in my Mars Origin “I” Series. (So if you like mysteries with just a touch of sci-fi, you might want to check them out!). Logan is from Ohio (like me), but her stories are based in Georgia. I love the coastline there and thought it would be a perfect setting for a cozy mystery.
The story Mac and Miss Vivee told about the first recorded case of nicotine poisoning is true. There is very little written that reports death by nicotine and I try to keep the deaths in my books interesting, so that’s why I picked it.
This book is dedicated to my granddaughter, Riley, the youngest of the three, she challenges me and my wit at every opportunity.
I appreciate all my reviews and look forward to reading what you thought about my book. Grammatical errors are of course unintended, so if you find any, just email me and let me know what you’ve found.
I love connecting with my readers and look forward to chatting with you.
Read My Other Books
Bed & Breakfast Bedlam
Logan Dickerson Cozy Mystery Series
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In the Beginning
Mars Origin “I” Series Book I
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Irrefutable Proof
Mars Origin “I” Series Book II
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Incarnate
Mars Origin “I” Series Book III
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At the End of the Line
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Mysticism and Myths
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Coming Soon
Maya Mound Mayhem – A Logan Dickerson Cozy Mystery
Gar
den Gazebo Gabble – A Logan Dickerson Cozy Mystery
Coastal Cottage Calamity (A Logan Dickerson Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 13