Carla Cassidy

by Scene of the Crime Killer Cove

  Her cheeks warmed as she realized she’d shared more than she’d meant to with him. She didn’t like to think about her childhood or the loneliness she’d felt as a motherless child whose father was gone more than he was at home.

  If it hadn’t been for Mama Baptiste she would have never made it to school on time and would have gone to bed hungry on many a night.

  “Maybe Julie will have something to tell us,” she said to break the silence that had descended between them.

  “Let’s hope. Somebody had a beef with Shelly, something was happening that I didn’t know about. It wasn’t a random act. She wasn’t robbed except for her engagement ring, and it certainly wasn’t anything spectacular. Her purse was on the bench, with her wallet and cell phone inside.”

  “Do you know if the police checked pawn shops to see if anyone tried to pawn the ring?” she asked.

  “I don’t know what the police did except crawl all over me and try to find the evidence to put me in jail for her murder,” Bo replied. “But as far as I know the ring was never recovered.”

  “Maybe the murdering creep kept it as a souvenir,” she replied and fought a shiver that threatened to crawl up her spine.

  “And that sounds like some sick obsession,” Bo replied. “The police found nothing on Shelly’s cell phone or her laptop that would lead to another suspect, and I never noticed anyone lurking around whenever we were together. My text was the last thing on her phone, no more incoming calls or texts after that.”

  “Somebody wanted her dead for a reason, or somebody met with her that night and somehow things got out of control. Did you ever consider that the killer might be a woman?”

  She sensed Bo’s look of surprise. “It would take a strong woman to strangle Shelly.”

  “Rage can give somebody plenty of strength, and Shelly was a petite, slender woman.”

  “I just never considered a woman as a suspect. I can’t imagine her making that kind of a female enemy. Like I told you before, I can’t imagine her making any enemies.”

  Claire pulled into the driveway of Julie Melbourne’s home and then turned to look at Bo. “Did you feel somebody stalking you before Shelly’s death? Have any women who were showing an interest in you?”

  “And killed Shelly out of some kind of jealousy?” He shook his head. “I don’t remember anyone flirting or acting inappropriate with me. Everybody in town knew that Shelly was my fiancée and I was committed to her.”

  “It was just a thought,” Claire said. “Now let’s hope Julie has something more tangible for us than Sally had.”

  Unfortunately, Julie had nothing for them. She was obviously surprised and not particularly happy to see Bo, but she invited them in and the conversation went nowhere. No, Shelly hadn’t mentioned anyone bothering her before her murder. She hadn’t talked about anyone who was angry with her or making her uncomfortable.

  “You’re wasting your time on me,” Bo said once they were back in the car and headed to his house. “We’re not going to find any answers.”

  “Are you really ready to quit after talking to just two people? I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather be doing this than serving up George’s greasy burgers,” Claire replied. “The pay isn’t as great, but the company is definitely better. Besides, maybe Savannah knows something that will move us forward.”

  “That would be good,” he replied. She pulled to the curb in front of his house.

  “Let’s hope she’s home,” Claire said as Bo opened his car door. “I’ll catch up with her somewhere and be back here in an hour or so. If I run into a snag I’ll call you.” They exchanged cell phone numbers.

  “And I’ll have some dinner ready when you get back here.”

  “Sounds good,” she replied. She watched as he got out of the car and headed toward his front door. He looked defeated and she had a feeling it wouldn’t take much for him to cut and run.

  It was three thirty when she parked her car at her house, deciding to walk to Savannah’s place and then on to Bo’s. She felt the need to stretch her legs. Her mind always seemed to clear when she walked or rode her bicycle, and she wanted to think about what she wanted, what she hoped to hear from Savannah.

  It didn’t take her long to reach the Sinclair home, where Savannah answered the door on Claire’s first knock. As always when Claire saw Savannah she thought of Shelly. The two sisters looked so much alike with their long dark hair, delicate features and wide brown eyes.

  “Sally called me earlier so I’ve been half expecting you,” Savannah said as she gestured Claire into the house. “Bo isn’t with you?”

  “We thought it would be best if I talked to you alone,” Claire said as she sat on the chair Savannah gestured her to in the tidy living room.

  “Sally told me you were asking questions about before Shelly’s murder.” Savannah sat on the sofa and curled her legs beneath her.

  “I’ll be completely honest with you, Savannah. I never believed that Bo murdered Shelly. I also don’t believe an adequate criminal investigation was conducted at the time of her death,” Claire said.

  Savannah raised her index finger to her mouth and nibbled on her nail, her doe-like gaze never leaving Claire’s. She dropped her hand into her lap and released a deep sigh. “I never really believed in Bo’s guilt, either.”

  The confession shocked Claire. She leaned forward in the chair, a sizzle of excitement rushing through her. “Was there somebody else you suspected? Did Shelly mention anyone bothering her in the days or weeks before she was killed?”

  “No, nothing specific, although she did tell me she was dealing with a potentially sticky situation and was trying to figure out how to handle it. But she refused to tell me any more than that.”

  Claire frowned. “A sticky situation? What could that possibly mean?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t have anything to do with Bo. I know that she and Mac were fighting, but Mac would never hurt Shelly. Trust me, over the past two years I’ve tried to figure out what she might have been talking about. I wished I’d pressed her for more details, but I didn’t, and I don’t know if it had anything to do with her murder or not.”

  “What were Shelly and Mac fighting about?” Claire asked curiously.

  “Who knows? They were always fighting about something. Sometimes Mac took his role as protective older brother too far and Shelly got aggravated with him.”

  “Why did you have doubts about Bo’s guilt?” Claire asked, filing away in the back of her mind Mac as a potential suspect.

  “Bo had been a part of my life since I was fifteen. I loved him like a brother. I knew how much he loved Shelly, and through their years together I never saw him lose his temper. In fact, Shelly used to complain that Bo didn’t like to fight, that he never lost his cool.”

  “Why didn’t you come forward on his behalf after the murder?” Claire asked.

  Savannah’s eyes darkened. “Everyone around me seemed so certain it was Bo and nobody had an alternative suspect. My parents were devastated, my brother Mac was in a rage and my best friend, my sister, was dead. I was in no condition to say much of anything to anyone. As time went by everyone just seemed to forget it. Bo was gone, Shelly was dead and I thought I just needed to move on with my life until I heard Bo was back and the two of you were asking questions.”

  “I believe Bo is innocent, and he and I believe somebody got away with murder that night and has never faced justice. We’re determined to find out who was really responsible for Shelly’s murder.”

  Claire stood, eager to let Bo know that Savannah had always had doubts about his guilt. She knew the information would lift his spirits.

  Savannah walked her to the door. “You’ll let me know if you think of anything that might help Bo and me try to find the killer. Needless to say we don’t expect to get much help from the local law enforcement.”

  “I’ll call you if I think of anything that might help, but I’ve been thinking about this for two l
ong years and haven’t come up with any answers.” Savannah opened the door. “Please tell Bo that I was sorry to hear about his mother’s death. She was a wonderful woman.”

  Minutes later Claire walked the sidewalks that would eventually lead her back to Bo’s house. Despite the fact that she’d learned nothing concrete, she was filled with a new optimism brought on by learning that Savannah had believed Bo was innocent. Other than Shelly, Savannah would have known Bo’s character better than anyone.

  A sticky situation—what could that mean? What kind of a situation had Shelly been facing in the days before her death? Had she had issues with a coworker at the Pirate’s Inn?

  Had she become enamored with another man and the sticky situation was that she was conflicted between her love for Bo and a new romantic interest?

  As she walked, her mind whirled, darting first in one direction and then another. It was just after four and the hot, humid air wrapped around her like an oppressive blanket, making her wish she was in the air-conditioning of her car.

  It was only going to get worse. The summers in Mississippi were brutal, especially in the couple of months to come. By the time July came she wouldn’t be walking or riding her bicycle anymore until cooler fall weather set in.

  She was almost to Bo’s house when a new thought struck her. Had Shelly received a note from a secret admirer? Had she found a little vase of flowers on the porch before her death?

  Despite the heat that surrounded her, a shiver slid up her spine. “Don’t be silly,” she muttered aloud. There was absolutely no reason to tie what had happened to Shelly Sinclair two years ago to the notes and the flowers Claire was receiving now.

  Still, she hurried her pace to Bo’s, the chill inside her refusing to relinquish its hold.

  Chapter Five

  As soon as Claire dropped Bo at his house, he pulled a package of steaks out of the freezer, scrubbed a couple of large baking potatoes and then sat at the kitchen table to think.

  He’d gone into today not expecting answers, not expecting anything but rather indulging Claire and her crazy idea to clear his name. He’d decided he’d spend a couple of days “investigating” and then head home to Jackson.

  Talking with Shelly’s friends, Sally and Julie, had only made him more discouraged. After all, it had been two years. Did Claire really expect to solve a crime that the police had probably officially moved to a cold case status, but unofficially had declared solved?

  Certainly Bo would like to know who was responsible for Shelly’s murder. He wanted to see that person behind bars, but the odds of him and Claire managing to do that after all this time and with no official help were slim to none.

  Jimmy was in the bedroom dressing for his night at Jimmy’s Place and Bo took the opportunity of the quiet time to call his manager in Jackson.

  The call didn’t take long and, as expected, everything was running smoothly. Bo had made a great choice when he’d hired Art Bolling as his manager. The forty-five-year-old man was not only honest and hardworking, but he was also a good leader who all the workers respected. It put his mind at ease that he had good help while he was away.

  Jimmy came into the kitchen, his lanky frame clad in black slacks and a black shirt sporting Jimmy’s Place in white lettering. He smelled like a bottle of cologne and had his brown hair slicked back with gel. “The chick magnet is ready for duty,” he said with a grin.

  “Is there any chick in particular in the magnet’s sights?” Bo asked in amusement.

  “Nah, right now I’m just spreading the wealth of my charms all around.” He straightened his collar and frowned. “I was dating Maggie Grimes for a little while. Remember her? She sat in front of me in algebra class when we were sophomores.”

  Bo had a vague memory of a cute redhead with big green eyes. “What happened?”

  “I figured out she was just dating me for the free drinks she could get at the bar. She liked being my girlfriend at Jimmy’s Place but she wasn’t much into me outside of that.” He shrugged. “Plenty of other fish in the sea and I’m in no big hurry.” He checked his watch. “And on that note, I’m out of here.”

  Once Jimmy had left, Bo scrubbed the potatoes, poked them with a knife, then covered them with aluminum foil and set the oven to preheat. It was funny, he’d thought he’d become accustomed to the relative silence in his life over the past two years. But in the past two days Claire had filled that silence and he found himself looking forward to her arrival no matter what information she had learned.

  He was torn between the decision to stick around and move forward with her in an effort to prove his innocence, and just heading out and leaving Lost Lagoon forever behind.

  He was still contemplating what he wanted to do when Claire returned. Her energy bounced off the walls as she greeted him and followed him into the kitchen.

  “Savannah never really believed in your guilt,” she said with a smile before taking a seat at the table.

  Bo’s knees nearly weakened as he moved across to the oven to put the potatoes inside to bake. Sweet Savannah, she’d always held a special place in his heart as Shelly’s younger sister.

  “She also said to tell you she’s sorry about your mother’s passing,” Claire continued. Bo joined her at the table.

  “Did she have any information that might be useful to us? Anything that might shed some light on things?” he asked.

  She filled up the room with her presence, instantly dispelling the oppressive silence, the thrum of loneliness that had beat in his heart moments earlier.

  “Nothing specific, but she did say just before Shelly’s murder Shelly had mentioned that she was dealing with some sort of sticky situation.”

  Bo frowned. “Sticky situation? What does that mean?”

  “I have no idea and Savannah didn’t know, either, but I think if we can figure it out it’s the key to the murder.”

  “How exactly do we go about figuring out something like that?” Bo asked in exasperation. “It could have been an issue at work or a fight with her brother. It might have been unwanted attention from somebody or an issue with a girlfriend.”

  “And step by step we’ll explore all those things,” Claire said, her voice calming the storm of frustration that threatened to erupt inside him.

  “Why wouldn’t she have told me about something bothering her?” Bo asked, speaking more to himself than to Claire. He’d thought that he and Shelly shared everything with each other, both good things and bad. Had she possessed secrets that led to her death?

  Claire seemed to know that his question had been rhetorical and she didn’t attempt to answer it. In fact, she changed the subject as he got up to season and then broil the steaks. She chatted about teaching and how much she loved spending time with her second-grade class. “They’re old enough to know the school routine, but also have a wonderful innocence and eagerness to learn that’s so rewarding.”

  As she regaled him with stories about some of the funny antics of some of her students, Bo felt himself relaxing...enjoying the sound of her laughter and the fact that she could make him laugh so easily when levity had been missing from his life for so long.

  The easy conversation continued throughout their meal. He told her a little bit more about Bo’s Place in Jackson and the small rental house he called home. He considered telling her that he still owned Jimmy’s Place, but ultimately decided not to. It really didn’t matter. He had no plans to remain in Lost Lagoon and publicly reclaim his place at the popular bar and grill.

  “Jimmy definitely has taken on his role as owner of Jimmy’s Place well,” Claire said with a touch of humor. “He was always kind of quiet and introverted, but now he’s like you were when you were running the place. He’s gregarious and something of a social butterfly.”

  “I’m just glad he’s happy. He had a crappy childhood. He was raised in one of the shanties near where you live. Both his parents were alcoholics who either beat him, verbally abused him or ignored him. But from what little you�
�ve told me, it sounds like your childhood was pretty crappy, too.”

  “It wasn’t great,” she admitted and dolloped more sour cream on her potato. “My mother left when I was six years old. I went to school one morning and when I got home she was gone and she never came back. My father was already a drinker, but after she left he fell into the bottom of a bottle and never crawled out. He was gone more than he was home and when he was home he was usually passed out.”

  “How did you survive?” Bo asked, his heart swelling with empathy for a little girl who’d apparently had nobody to nurture her.

  “On hopes and dreams and with a lot of help from Mama Baptiste, who stepped in to make sure I made it to school and had a good breakfast before starting the day.”

  “But she had her store to run—she couldn’t be there all the time for you.”

  “True. I spent a lot of time alone, but I had a wonderful second-grade teacher who taught us all that we decide if we’re happy or sad in most situations. She explained that it was okay to be sad, but eventually we each had to find our own happiness.”

  A dainty frown line appeared across her forehead, not detracting from her prettiness in any way. “I have to confess, it took me a while to understand that the true path to happiness was in acceptance.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” he replied, holding her gaze for so long he felt as if he could drown in its blue depths.

  “When I realized my mother wasn’t coming back, that she’d not only left my father but also me behind, I was devastated.” Her eyes shimmered and Bo reached across the table to cover one of her hands with his.

  Having been raised in a good stable home with both a mother and father, Jimmy’s and Claire’s backgrounds not only seemed alien, but broke his heart for each of them.