Murder Makes Waves

by Anne George

  “Had either of you met Jason Marley before this visit?”

  “I may have met him,” Sister said. “But, to tell you the truth, I haven’t paid that much attention to Blue Bay Ranch. It’s like kudzu. It wasn’t there and then it was.”

  “I hadn’t met him,” I said.

  “How well did you know Emily Peacock?”

  “Just as a friend of a friend. We weren’t close, but I knew her and liked her.” Sister ran her hand through her hair.

  “And Mr. Weatherby asked you to go check on her and that’s when you found her body?”

  Mary Alice said testily, “My sister’s right. We’ve already answered these questions.”

  The lieutenant held up his pen. “I’m almost through. What about the Berliners? How long have you known them?”

  “We just met them,” I said. “We went to watch turtles with them last night.”

  “Did you know that Sophie had Mrs. Weatherby’s other earring?”

  “Sophie? Where did she get it?” I asked.

  “She says Mrs. Weatherby gave it to her the morning she was killed.”

  Something in his tone made me say, “But you don’t believe her.”

  “No. I think she found it somewhere. Her father recognized it as Mrs. Weatherby’s earring and gave it back to Fairchild.”

  That explained why Sophie was so mad at her father. Millicent’s turtle would have been precious to her.

  “She’s sticking to her story, though,” the lieutenant said.

  “She’s fourteen. You’re not so old you’ve forgotten fourteen.”

  “I guess not.”

  “So,” Sister said, “you have a pair of earrings.”

  “And a pair of unsolved murders,” I added, slightly angry at Major Bissell for his indictment of Sophie.

  “We’ll find out what happened,” he said, closing his notebook and getting up. “Thanks, ladies, for your time. Tell Haley I’ll pick her up around seven. And, by the way, Mrs. Crane, the phone call that you and Mrs. Stamps believed was a threatening one?”

  “Believed? It was.”

  “Well, a trace showed it was made from the pay phone in front of Delchamps Super Market.” He started out, paused, and turned around as if something had just occured to him. “And, by the way, Mrs. Stamps didn’t receive the same call.”

  “Sure she did,” I exclaimed. “She came running in here scared to death.”

  “There’s no record of her getting a call at that time or from that phone.”

  “But that doesn’t make sense,” I said. “She came in here white as a sheet.” I realized “white as a sheet” would never describe Laura. “Well, you know what I mean.”

  “So scared she said she was leaving town and I should, too,” Sister added. “Maybe she got the call somewhere else, like in her car.”

  Major Bissell shrugged. “We’re checking it out.”

  The bedroom door opened and Fred came out looking like the wrath of God. “Hey,” he said.

  The towel had slipped from my head. He looked at me, rubbed his eyes, and looked again. “Good God, Mary Alice. What have you done to Patricia Anne?”

  “She did it to herself, you old fool.”

  Somewhere in the ensuing scene, Major Bissell let himself out and I went into the bathroom to assess the damage. Actually, I decided, my hair wasn’t too bad. No color known to man, but as it dried, it was slipping back into its natural curls. I scrunched it up and a new me, as promised, looked back from the mirror.

  “I’ll go to the drugstore for you, honey,” Fred said, looking in the door. “Just tell me what to get.”

  “Get me a dark brown eyebrow pencil.”

  “What?”

  “Mauve eyebrows won’t do with this red hair.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. You’re not going to keep that hair color.”

  “Just through twenty-four shampoos.”

  Mary Alice looked over Fred’s shoulder. “Maybe, Mouse, you ought to let Fred get you some drabber. That’ll tone the color down some.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. I looked in the mirror and grinned. “And don’t call me Mouse.” There was power in that hair.

  “Yo! Mama!” Haley said when they came in. “Come out here, Frances. You’ve got to see this.”

  “What?” Frances stuck her head out the balcony door. “Wow, Patricia Anne! Is that a wig?”

  “It’s Summer Marigold.” I turned so they could get the whole effect.

  Haley came over and looked at my hair closely. “What did Papa say?”

  “He offered to go to the drugstore for me.”

  Frances leaned over for a closer look. “It’ll tone down when the dye wears off your scalp. Especially around your hairline. That’s kind of red.”

  “I sort of like it,” I said.

  “It gives you a rakish look.” Haley grinned. “Papa blamed Aunt Sister for it, didn’t he?”

  “Like I never had a thought of my own.”

  “Where are they? Papa and Aunt Sister?”

  “Your Papa is walking down the beach trying to get over the shock, and Aunt Sister is over at Fairchild’s.”

  “Is he okay?” Frances asked.

  “Far as I know. Major Bissell was here asking some more questions.”

  “What about?”

  I told them about the earrings, how Lolita had found one and been afraid to get involved, and that Sophie had had the other one, claiming Millicent had given it to her.

  “I remember those earrings,” Haley said. “I remember wondering if they were real gold and how heavy they were.”

  “He wanted to know if Millicent had them on the morning she stopped by here. The morning she was killed. I told him she didn’t.”

  “She could have pulled them off because they were bothering her and put them in her purse,” Frances suggested.

  “Or her pocket.” Haley leaned forward in her chair. “They could have fallen out of her pocket easily if someone attacked her.”

  “But it wouldn’t make sense for her to give one to Sophie. Maybe both of them, but not one. And when would she have done it?”

  “Nope,” Frances agreed. “Sophie found that earring.”

  I thought about it for a moment. “Maybe she’s scared to tell where. Maybe she was somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be, sneaking around smoking or something. You remember Laura told us that Sophie popped out from behind the dryer in the laundry room and scared her to death.”

  “Or maybe she saw something she wasn’t supposed to see.” Haley turned and looked at the beach, but there was no black-clad figure down there.

  “That’s scary,” Frances said.

  “I’m sure Major has thought of that possibility.”

  “I wonder if her parents have,” I added.

  “Y’all look mighty serious,” Sister said, coming out on the balcony. “How was your shopping trip?”

  “I got a bathing suit at the Adrienne Vittadini outlet,” Haley said. “Bright red.”

  “It looks great on her. I got a couple of wedding presents at the Lenox place.”

  “How’s Fairchild?” I asked.

  Sister sat down beside Haley. “He’s doing okay. Some insurance man is already over there with him. Lord, I remember when Will Alec and Philip and Roger died, what a mess the insurance was. And especially with Philip dying on that plane while we were on vacation.”

  “It was Roger,” I said.

  “Whichever. They both just went thump, right over. Nice men.”

  We thought about this for a moment. Then Sister asked Frances if I had told her that Major Bissell didn’t think Laura had gotten the threatening call.

  “Really? What makes him think that?”

  “It came from the pay phone in front of Delchamps. It showed up on our phone, but not on Laura’s. There was no call made to Laura’s from that phone or any other at that specific time.”

  “Well, if she didn’t get a phone call, she deserves an Academy Award,” Haley sa
id. “That woman was shaking like a leaf. I thought for sure she was going to keel over.”

  “I agree,” I said. “She didn’t say she had just come from her apartment, did she? We all just assumed she had.”

  “They could even have a phone on the boat,” Sister said. “Probably do.” She rubbed the frown line between her eyes.

  “There could be all kinds of explanations,” Haley assured her, and then changed the subject by asking Sister if Fairchild had said what he was going to do with the land over on the bay.

  “It reverted to the Blue Bay Corporation, Haley. You looked it up.”

  “Not all of it. Wait a minute.” Haley disappeared inside for a moment, and came back with the brochure for Blue Bay Ranch that Lolita had given us and the photocopied papers she had gotten at the court house.

  “Here,” she said, spreading them out on the glass-topped table. “The brochure says Blue Bay Ranch is nestled on 650 acres of prime woodland fronting Choctawhatchee Bay and bordered by Sellers Magee Bayou and Indian Paint Bayou.

  “But look here.” She pointed to the top sheet of the photocopied stack. “Tod Abernathy bought 942 acres over there. Let’s see. Subtract 650 from 942. You’ve got roughly three hundred acres over there that Millicent didn’t put into Blue Bay. Two hundred ninety-two.” She looked up. “That will go to Fairchild, won’t it?”

  “I’ll be damned,” Sister said. “I totally missed that.”

  “So did I.” I took the paper and brochure and studied the figures again. “Reckon there’s a chance that acreage has already been sold?”

  “Maybe,” Haley said. “We could ask Fairchild.”

  “The insurance people are with him. He’s been talking about his property on the bay, but I just assumed he still felt like part of Blue Bay Ranch.” Sister took the papers from me. “Sellers Magee Bayou. That’s toward the Mid-Bay Bridge. I’ll bet you money this land goes from the bayou toward the bridge.”

  “Maybe Laura would know,” I said. “We’ve got a couple of questions to ask Miss Laura, anyway.”

  “I’ll call and see if she’s home.” Sister got up.

  “Not many dull moments around here,” Frances said.

  “Lord have mercy,” Laura said when she opened the door. “I almost didn’t recognize you, Patricia Anne.”

  “It’s Summer Marigold,” I said. “It’s the same thing Sister has on her hair.”

  “Sure looks different. I remember one time I put some coloring on my hair called Tahitian Night and, believe you me, it gets black in Tahiti at night. I like to have died.” She stepped back. “Y’all come on in. Just don’t look at the mess the apartment’s in. I’m getting ready to go to my sister’s, you know.” Laura was barefooted, had on snug knit shorts that appeared corrugated, topped by what must have been Eddie’s shirt. Since it was tie-dyed, it was either twenty years out of style or a year ahead. My bet was on the former.

  “We just want to ask you something,” Sister said.

  “Sure. Come on in. You want a Coke? I’m ready for a break.”

  “Thanks.” Sister and I sat on the sofa while Laura clunked ice into glasses and brought in a tray with three Cokes. “I swear I can’t believe all this.”

  “Is Eddie okay?” I asked.

  “Pretty good. Somebody’s taking him over to the driving range. Fairchild said he told you. About the Alzheimer’s.”

  “We’re so sorry.” Sister said.

  “Well, so far so good. Eddie’s always been a gentle man.” She grinned. “Always having to calm me down. And, in a way, he’s just getting gentler. And some days he’s still sharp as a tack.”

  “And the prognosis?” I asked.

  Laura shrugged and handed us our Cokes. “Who knows? But I’ll tell you what I told Fairchild. Eddie’ll have the best care money can provide. That’s about all you can hope for with that awful disease.”

  No. You can hope for someone who remembers what you once were and who still loves you.

  Mary Alice held up her glass. “To Eddie.”

  “To Eddie,” Laura and I echoed.

  “Now,” Laura ran her palm across her cheek. “What was it you wanted to ask me?”

  “A couple of questions,” Sister said. “For starters, Major Bissell told us there was no record of you getting a threatening phone call.”

  “That’s because I got it in my car. That was one of the scariest things about it, that whoever was calling knew where I was.” Laura shivered. “Why would I lie about it?”

  “True,” Sister said. “We were just checking.”

  “Well, there’s no need. I got the call just like you did, and Eddie and I are getting the hell out of town. I suggest you do the same.” She set her glass of Coke down with a thump on the coffee table.

  “We knew there was some explanation,” Sister said.

  “We told Major Bissell that,” I lied.

  Laura seemed appeased. “What else did you want to ask me?”

  “Did Millicent have several hundred acres of land over on the bay that didn’t belong to Blue Bay Ranch?”

  “All I know about’s Blue Bay Ranch.” Laura picked her Coke up and took a sip. “And getting Jason Marley to develop it to suit her was like pulling teeth. You can ask Jason. He said Millicent and Emily were both so hung up on those damn turtles it was driving him crazy. When they made us put a special kind of light on the end of our boathouses, one that doesn’t shine very far, he said, ‘Hell, that sort of defeats the purpose of a light on the boathouse. Somebody hits it, we’re in trouble.’ We did it, though.” Laura drank some of her Coke. “What do you want to know for?”

  “Patricia Anne and I were having an argument,” Sister lied. “I told her Millicent said she still owned some land by the bridge and Patricia Anne said it was Blue Bay she was talking about.”

  “It was Blue Bay.”

  “Why did she give in and let it be developed, Laura?” I asked.

  “Her family. You saw them today at the funeral. Millicent couldn’t let them want for anything.”

  “She looked happy the other night at the Redneck,” Sister said.

  “I think she was pleased at the way the development’s going.”

  “No, I mean she was glowing. You know that look women get when they’re in love.”

  “Or pregnant,” I added. Sister frowned at me.

  “Or have had too much to drink.” Laura leaned over and put her Coke on the coffee table. “Let’s change the subject. I’ve been down in the dumps all day and that damn Florida Marine officer with all his questions hasn’t helped.”

  “How long will you be at your sister’s?” I asked.

  “A week. Maybe two. I’ll have to get back to see about the stuff over at Blue Bay.” Laura looked around the apartment. “You know, I’ve been thinking I might sell this place. You know anybody who might be interested?”

  “Fred and I might be,” I said.

  Laura and Mary Alice both looked at me, surprised.

  “Well, we might. We’ve been talking about it. A little.”

  “Bring Fred over,” Laura said.

  “She was lying,” Sister said a few minutes later as we walked down the hall.

  “What?” I had no idea what she was talking about.

  “About the land. Laura knows Millicent owned more land.” She opened the door to her apartment and we walked into the smell of popcorn. Haley was stretched out on the living room floor and Frances was on the sofa. They were watching Somewhere in Time and both were already sniffling. We each got a handful of popcorn, stepped over Haley, refusing her invitation for a good cry, and went to the balcony.

  “How do you know she was lying?”

  “Her big toe, Patricia Anne. Didn’t you see it? It was wiggling up and down like a worm on a hook.”

  “A worm on a hook?”

  “You know. The part that’s left over to attract the fish. That’s the way Laura’s big toe was doing. Up, down. Up, down. I don’t see how you missed it, especially with that
red toenail polish and the big callus.”

  “I saw the toe,” I said. “Laura needs to wear shoes at all times.”

  “Well, she was lying. That big toe was a dead giveaway.”

  “Don’t tell me. You learned this in that body language class you took.”

  “Right.”

  “But why would Laura lie about Millicent owning the land?”

  “She didn’t. She was lying about knowing about it.”

  “Or maybe her callus hurt.” I saw Fred coming down the beach and stood up to wave at him. He deliberately turned and looked out over the water, not returning my wave.

  “Mouse, you better go get the drabber,” Sister said.

  I made a gesture with my finger. “Did they teach you in body language class what this means?”

  Sister laughed. “I invented it.”

  Chapter 17

  Ten minutes later, there I was with bright red hair haulassing to the drugstore for drabber. That good, sweet man walking down the beach was obviously not prepared to deal with my Day-Glo curls, and I wasn’t so sure I was, either, in spite of my bravado. So when the elevator stopped on the third floor and a teenage boy and girl stood there waiting to get on, I hardly paid them any attention. My mind was already on the hair-coloring aisle at the Big B.

  “Get in the elevator,” the girl said, giving the boy a shove.

  “What’s wrong with you? Ladies first.” And the boy pushed her into the elevator.

  “Stupid!” she grabbed at him. The door began to close, touched the boy, and sprang open. They both smiled at me sheepishly. When we reached the lobby, they sprinted for the beach. But I walked slowly toward our car. There was something I should be remembering, something that sat there at the edge of my consciousness and that the kids’ tussle at the elevator had touched.

  Maybe if I had remembered and put two and two together, I could have prevented some of the things that happened later. But the sun was shining, and I was on an urgent mission. No time for introspection. Maybe that’s why I paid so little attention to the cyclist turning out of our gate toward Highway 98. In spite of her helmet, I saw it was Sophie when we both stopped at the traffic light at the highway. In fact, we waved to each other. And then she turned down 98 in the direction of Blue Bay Ranch, and I went straight across to the shopping center. But people ride bicycles down 98 all the time. It’s a four-lane road with wide shoulders and even sidewalks through Destin. That she might be doing anything other than going for a ride never occured to me.