Death by a Whisker

by T. C. LoTempio

  “You’re not even certain that Maggie and Miggs are the same person. It could be someone else entirely.”

  “True. But how can I find that out? One person who could tell me is dead and the other is missing. I think Maggie’s cousin Rhonda might know, but it’s obvious she doesn’t want to get involved.”

  Kat reached out and gave my arm a pat. “You’ll think of something, Sherlock. You always do.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I held out my empty glass. “Could I have some more sweet tea? And maybe some more cookies?”

  Kat eyed me as she reached for my glass. “I thought you said you and Leila went to that fancy brunch?”

  “We did, and Leila ate like a pig. Me, not so much.”

  Kat glanced toward the stove. “I could whip you up a frittata,” she offered.

  My sister isn’t what I’d call a master chef, and the last time she’d made a frittata, there had been bits of shell in it. I started to refuse, when my stomach let out a low growl. Kat laughed. “One frittata coming right up,” she chuckled as she pulled a frying pan out of the cabinet.

  “Fine. But no shells this time.”

  Kat pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge. I slumped in the chair and closed my eyes.

  “There’s got to be someone else who can help me,” I muttered. “Someone else who knew both Ulla and Maggie and …”

  My eye suddenly fell on the little table by the back door, on which sat the floppy straw hat that Kat usually wore when she puttered in her garden. And just like that, it came to me.

  I knew who I could talk to that might hold the key to this whole mystery. And hopefully, she was still in town.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I wolfed down Kat’s frittata (no shells, thank goodness!) and then made an excuse to leave, telling her I had an errand to run before my eight PM. shift at the shelter. I could tell from the way she looked at me, she knew something was up but tactfully refrained from pushing me for details. She did make me promise to call her immediately if I needed help, and after I said my goodbyes to her, I got into my car and drove straight to Hat’s Off. The millinery store was open from noon to four on Sundays, and it was a little before four when I pulled into the space directly across from the store. Grace looked up at me from her post behind the counter as I pushed through the front door.

  “Syd,” Grace called out, “What a nice surprise. Come and meet my cousin, MaeAnn.”

  MaeAnn Topping looked to be a slightly younger version of Grace. Her light brown hair had a few errant streaks of gray in it, and she wore it in the same style as Grace’s. She wore glasses too, but hers were wire rimmed with tinted lenses. MaeAnn stepped forward and enveloped me in a bear hug.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Sydney,” she said. “Grace has told us so much about you and your sister, and the wonderful work you do at the shelter.” She closed one eye in a wink. “And, of course, that you are quite the detective too. You solved the murder of that man who owned the art gallery, God rest his soul.”

  “If you ask me, Syd should have applied for Bennington’s job on the force,” Grace said with a chuckle. “Although you probably wouldn’t want to work that close with your boyfriend, would you, dear?” She turned to her cousin. “Syd is dating one of the homicide detectives. Funny coincidence, they used to date in high school too.”

  “Oo-oo,” squealed MaeAnn. She clasped her hands in front of her. “So you reconnected with an old crush, huh? That’s so sweet. I love hearing about high school romances that work out.”

  I mentally thanked Grace for giving me a good opening, and I returned MaeAnn’s wide smile with one of my own. “Speaking of high school, I understand that you went there at the same time as Ulla Townsend.”

  MaeAnn’s smile vanished. The corners of her mouth drooped downward. “Oh … her. Yes, she was in the same class as me. She was Ulla Beckman back then, though.” She looked at me over the rims of her glasses. “Just goes to show you how funny life is, right? Here Ulla returns triumphantly on a publicity tour for her book, and she ends up dead. You just never know.” MaeAnn shot me a sharp glance. “Gracie here says it’s possible Ulla didn’t die a natural death. Are you helping the police investigate, Syd?”

  “Of course she is,” Grace cut in. “Why, I bet Syd solves it before they do. I bet you’ve got some idea already, don’t you, dear?”

  “I bet there are plenty of suspects,” MaeAnn put in. “People were surface nice to Ulla, mainly because they feared retaliation. And make no mistake—she did retaliate.”

  I leaned into MaeAnn and said, “Well, I can tell you this much. Ulla wasn’t just here for a book signing.”

  Both MaeAnn and Grace gasped. “She wasn’t?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. She was on a mission. She’d turned over a new leaf. She wanted to reconcile with people she’d wronged over the years.”

  I thought MaeAnn’s eyes would bug out of her head. “Really?” Her eyes narrowed a bit, and her chin jutted out. “Are you sure? Because the Ulla Beckman I knew wouldn’t give a damn about anyone’s feelings but her own.”

  I tapped on the glass counter with my nail. “Oh, it’s true. As a matter of fact, Ulla was seeing a therapist. She was trying to work out some anger issues, hoping to land a contract as spokesperson for a major cosmetics company.”

  “Ah.” MaeAnn’s lips curved a bit. “That sounds more like it. There always had to be something in it for her.”

  I set my cup down and propped my chin in my hand. “I guess Ulla wronged a lot of people, huh?”

  “Oh my Gawd, yes!” MaeAnn shot me a double eye roll. “You could fill Kenan Stadium with all the people that woman wronged! Well, maybe not the entire stadium—but I bet at least half.”

  “Wow, that’s a lot of people. She did mention a few in her book. Like the girl who got itching powder in her Coke.”

  “Yes, Cathy MacGregor.” MaeAnn bobbed her head up and down. “Cathy was only a junior, and Ulla took particular delight in tormenting her.”

  I tapped my finger against my lips. “There was another incident—Ulla slipped into a party uninvited and put liquor in the punch?”

  “Oh, yes. Poor Maggie Shayne. She got in a peck of trouble because it was her party. And that Ulla was such a sneak. No one could ever prove she’d been there, but we all knew she’d done it.” She paused. “Grace says that Maggie works at the shelter, so I guess you’ve heard that story before.”

  “Actually no. This is the first time.”

  “Oh. Well, that doesn’t surprise me,” MaeAnn said. “Maggie never liked to talk about it. Please don’t mention I told you.”

  “I won’t,” I assured her. “There was someone else too. Another girl Ulla was super-anxious to get hold of, but she didn’t seem to be able to connect with her. She had an odd name—Miggs?”

  MaeAnn’s brows drew together. “You’re right, that is an odd name. I don’t recall anyone in our class with it.”

  “Perhaps it could be a nickname of some sort?”

  MaeAnn pursed her lips. “A nickname, huh? Well … maybe. Can’t think of anyone off the top of my head, but …” She closed her eyes and I held my breath. I could almost see the wheels turning in her brain. Suddenly her eyes flew open, and she reached out and gave my hand a hard squeeze.

  “Of course, it has to be. Madelyn Griggs. Miggs. It fits.” MaeAnn let out a long sigh. “I haven’t thought about her in years. Not since the accident.”

  “Accident?”

  MaeAnn nodded. “Madelyn was in a car accident our senior year. It was a terrible, terrible incident.” She let out a long breath and then continued, “Madelyn was a real nice girl. Pretty. Popular. Ulla was jealous of her, of course. Maddie was always nice to her—Maddie was nice to everyone—but Ulla was her usual rotten self with her. Anyway, Maddie caught a bad cold that she just couldn’t seem to shake. She was taking medication for it. One afternoon after Glee Club practice, she seemed a bit out of it. We all tried to talk her into leaving h
er car and letting one of us take her home, but she insisted she was fine. Long story short, on the way home she lost control and crashed into a tree.”

  My hand went to my throat. “Oh my goodness. Was she all right?”

  MaeAnn shook her head. “She was in the hospital for weeks. Missed the graduation ceremony.” She paused and then added, “Later we found out Maddie had Baclofin in her system. Some of the kids had seen Ulla hanging around Maddie’s locker before practice. No one could prove it, but we all figured that Ulla had switched her medication.”

  I gasped. “That is horrible. She could have killed that girl.”

  “In essence, she did,” MaeAnn said. “The impact of the crash gave Maddie a TBI—traumatic brain injury. She was paralyzed on her left side and blinded in one eye. She had to be put in a care center.”

  “How terrible,” I cried. “And Ulla didn’t feel any remorse at the time at all?”

  “Ulla’s family had moved before anyone knew how serious Madelyn’s condition was. Madelyn’s sister was especially distraught.”

  “Sister?” I leaned forward. “Madelyn had a sister?”

  “Yes, Laura. I’d almost forgotten about her. She was much younger than us, you see, but she idolized her older sister. Madelyn’s accident hit her hard. She wanted her parents to find Ulla and make her pay for what she’d done, but they convinced her no good would come of that.” MaeAnn shoved her hands into the pockets of her sweater. “I found out from a friend of mine that Maddie passed a few months ago. When Laura came back to arrange her funeral, she was a wreck. Went on and on about how it wasn’t fair for Ulla to have fame and fortune, and her sister’s life to have been ruined. My friend thought she seemed slightly unhinged by her sister’s death.”

  “It’s understandable,” I murmured. “I don’t suppose you know where Laura is now?”

  MaeAnn put a finger to her lips. “Hmm, let me think. She was some sort of freelancer, that I know. Did something with computers. I thought I heard that she’d taken a job out of the country somewhere—London maybe?”

  “So she’s not in the United States now?”

  MaeAnn’s brow furrowed. “Well, now, she could be. It seems to me I did hear somewhere that she’d come back and had taken some sort of job in Charleston … dear me, I’m so confused. It’s been a long time, you know. I could be wrong on both counts.”

  I nodded. It was understandable MaeAnn would be hazy with details on Laura. Still, the possibility existed that Laura might be around and might even have taken a job in the same town that Ulla lived and worked in. Coincidence?

  I thought not.

  I chatted with the women for a few minutes more, then told her goodbye and got back in my car. I drove a few blocks and then pulled over and took out my iPhone. I keyed in “Images—Laura Griggs South Carolina.” Some of the photos that appeared I dismissed immediately—they were of women of color. There were a few others, some of a ten-year-old girl that could well have been Madelyn’s sister. The images, however, were too grainy to see clearly. I pulled up the white pages site and typed in the same information. One number came up, but when I dialed it, I got a recording that the number had been disconnected. Some more quick Internet searching revealed that Laura Griggs did not have a Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram account. If she was a freelancer, she could be anywhere, but … if the last place she’d worked was Charleston, might one of those places have been the CNC studios? And if she’d learned about Ulla’s plans to return to Deer Park, there was a good possibility she might have followed the woman here. I called the Deer Park Inn and asked to be connected to Wendy Sweeting’s room. She wasn’t in, so I left a message inquiring if anyone by the name of Laura Griggs had ever worked at CNC, then hung up. I debated calling Savannah but in the end decided against it.

  There was still the issue, though, of Ulla dying of an allergic reaction. Had either Maggie or Laura Griggs been privy to this information? If Laura had made it her life’s mission to make Ulla pay for what had happened to her sister, she probably would have worked long and hard to find out Ulla’s Achilles’ heel. She’d certainly done a good job of disappearing. Something niggled at me, some little detail, but for the life of me I couldn’t hone in on it.

  I drove home quickly, and the minute I pulled into my driveway, I snatched up my phone again and punched in Will’s number. This information was something he should be brought up to speed on. When his voicemail kicked in, I left a message for him to call me, and then I got out of my car and went inside. Toby came over to me and wound himself around my legs. I bent over and patted him behind his ear. “How are you doing Tobes? Kill any more Melvins?”

  Toby’s whiskers twitched, and he blinked his big eyes before turning and walking, tail held high, in the other direction. I chuckled and walked over to the counter. My suspect board stared back at me, and I snatched up my Magic Marker. I drew another box and put Laura Griggs’s name inside. Underneath it I wrote, Sister died at Ulla’s hand. Revenge? Then I drew a giant star next to the box. Laura was now my number-one suspect, but I couldn’t lose track of the fact that whoever had killed Ulla had to be privy to one important piece of information: her allergy. I jumped as Toby pawed at my leg, and I looked down at him.

  “Merow,” he said, his tone almost reproachful. His paw waved in the air. “Merow.”

  “You’re right,” I said to the cat. “I’m slipping. I never even asked MaeAnn if she knew anything about Ulla’s allergies.” I glanced at the clock. Since it was still a few minutes before four, there was a chance they might still be at the store. I grabbed my phone, looked up the number for Hat’s Off, and dialed it. Grace answered on the first ring and then put MaeAnn on at my request.

  “Oh, I’d forgotten all about that,” she said when I asked her. “It was an isolated incident. I only knew about it because I was unlucky enough to be standing right outside the biology lab at the time. Ulla was in the lab with two other girls. A bee flew in the window, and she went ballistic. Turns out that she was deathly allergic. She nearly died when she was a kid from a bee sting. Anyway, Ulla lit out of the lab like her pants were on fire. Made us all promise never to breathe a word—or else.”

  That feeling was back in the pit of my stomach again. “I’m guessing one of the two girls was Madelyn Griggs?”

  “Yup.”

  “And the other?” I held my breath.

  “Maggie Shayne.”

  Drat.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I fired up my laptop and googled “bee sting allergy” and found a site that provided the information that, in certain cases, bee venom, also known as apitoxin, can have strong toxic effects on humans. Approximately half of one percent to two percent of the population is hypersensitive to bee stings. In such cases, one sting can cause an allergic reaction that can result in an anaphylactic shock. The blood pressure of the body decreases; rashes appear on the skin; and paleness, a rapid pulse, chills, and cold skin can follow. In more serious cases, there is shortness of breath, tightness of the heart, and faintness, and eventually even death can occur.

  Exactly what had happened to Ulla. But how on earth had she gotten stung by a bee? There were no insects flying around that day, let alone bees. The weather had been brisk, not bee weather. Which could only mean one thing: someone knew of her hypersensitivity to bee stings and had somehow given her a dose of bee venom. Which meant, in no uncertain terms, that Ulla had been deliberately murdered. But how had the fatal dose been administered? Toby lofted onto the counter and sat, tail wrapped around forepaws, looking at me with his bright green eyes.

  I reached out and gave him a scratch behind one ear. “Maybe it didn’t come from an actual sting,” I mused. “Maybe the killer somehow managed to slip bee venom into Ulla’s water?”

  I pulled my phone back out and googled “honey bee venom taste.” I tipped the phone so Toby could see the screen. “It says here that honey bee venom is a sharp, clear liquid with a bitter taste. Ulla would surely have noticed it. So, it seems unli
kely the fatal dose was administered that way. So then how?”

  Toby jumped off the counter and trotted over to the other end of the kitchen, near his fleece bed. He stretched himself across the floor and busied himself with trying to fish something out from underneath the counter. I picked up my phone again and punched in Bart Beckman’s number. To my surprise, he answered on the first ring. I identified myself and asked if he’d gotten my previous message.

  “Yes, ma’am, I did, but I’ve been a bit busy deciding my sister’s final resting place,” he said in a slow Southern drawl. “Her final wish was to be cremated, but the police up your way haven’t released her body yet. I’ve been told it will be within the next two days, though.” He paused. “You said you had a few questions about my sister?”

  “Yes, I’m—ah—working with Ms. Leila Addams of the Deer Park Herald on a piece about your sister, and I just need to check a few facts.”

  “Ah’ll be glad to help if ah can, but you should know my sister and I weren’t particularly close.”

  I asked a few simple questions, such as where did Ulla go to school and when did his family move, and then geared myself up for the biggie. “The police communicated the autopsy results to you, correct?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He coughed. “I told this to the detective just this morning. I remember the incident clear as a bell. Ulla was out in the garden, playing among the flowers, when she got stung. Man, did she holler! Then she started to swell up jes like a toad—she nearly died. If my daddy hadn’t been home and gotten her to the hospital, she surely would have.”

  “So she’s always been allergic to bees? Did she carry an EpiPen?”

  “Only allergy she ever had, as far as I know. If there were others, she never let on. Ulla never liked admitting to weakness of any kind.” He let out a long sigh. “As for an EpiPen, well, she used to carry one, but my sister wasn’t one who believed in conventional medicine. She’d rather just avoid any situation that might put her in contact with bees or any type of insect. For example, she never advertised any type of garden product on Shopping Your Way or did any outdoor shows.” He cleared his throat before adding, “She was in some experimental group for a while, and she took a series of shots that was supposed to combat the allergy, but obviously they weren’t successful.”