The Wiles of Watermelon (Scents of Murder Book 2)

by Lynette Sowell

  Esther was an angel. A set of fresh napkins with silverware rolled up inside each of them graced the table. No one else seemed to notice my entry as anything other than one more dinnertime customer. Perfect.

  I sat down and fanned myself with the menu. “Phew. Humid out there.”

  Gretchen nodded across the aisle. “You got that right.” Truly, the woman had the soft drawl of a Southern lady. Yet I’d heard the Haggerty shriek through the phone the other night.

  One of the newer waitresses, Trina, took my drink order and removed the extra silverware from the table. “Thanks. I’ll be eating alone tonight.” She gave me a quizzical look and headed to the kitchen.

  The lights clicked on in the parking lot outside. I watched dusk fall and contemplated what to say next. I fiddled with my napkin. Trina returned with my iced tea.

  “Thanks.” I smiled up at her.

  “You ready to order?”

  “Um, just a few more minutes. I can’t decide.” This was true enough. I’d planned on going to Shapers for a workout and instead ended up having a second dinner at the restaurant. I’d make up for missing my workout in the morning. I debated between ordering the taco salad or the grilled chicken.

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.” Trina moved on to another table.

  I unrolled my silverware and looked at the fork. Yuck. Something made it through the dishwasher that shouldn’t have. I ought to mention that to Ben.

  “Need another set of silverware?” Gretchen held a rolled-up bundle across the aisle.

  “Oh, yes, thank you. I’ve got something on my fork.” I frowned. “I’ve never had this happen before, not here, anyway.”

  “Do you come here often?” Gretchen folded her notebook shut. I tried not to look wistfully at the pad of paper as she slid it into her purse.

  “Oh, a few times a week.” True enough. “Honey’s has the best pies in town. Or had, I should say. I found them hard to resist, so I never looked at the dessert menu if I could help it.”

  Gretchen blinked hard a few times, then dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. “Yes, the best pies.” Then she smoothed over her expression. “Sorry about that.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I. . .my sister passed away.”

  “Were you close?”

  “No. Not really. And she left me nothing. Times are tough.” Gretchen shrugged. “But you’ve got to take care of family, no matter the bad blood between you. I thought she would have realized that.”

  “I really am sorry.” Now what would I do? This woman had no clue I was Andi Hartley. Her demeanor would certainly be different if she did.

  “Don’t be sorry. She was aimin’ at trouble for years, and she sure found it.” A clatter in the kitchen made us both look in that direction. “I smell a rat, and I don’t mean the kind with a tail.”

  “Huh?”

  “She left what was rightfully mine to someone else. Someone not even family. And she’d told me she would remember me when she passed away. I thought for once I’d be taken care of.” Just then, Trina approached with Gretchen’s order. House special, the Bongo burger— Ben’s original recipe. Honey had incorporated it into her latest menu change.

  “You ready to order?” Trina stopped at my table. “Taco salad.” I smiled at her.

  “I’ll put that in for you.” When Trina left, I glanced at Gretchen, who had just taken her first bite of burger. She rolled her eyes and chewed.

  “Umm. . .” Gretchen glanced my way. “I haven’t had a burger this good in ages.”

  I wanted to remark that I’d had one the other night at home, same recipe. Then a thought broke over me like a wave of ice water. What if Gretchen had assumed Honey would leave her the restaurant? What if in her dire financial straits she’d murdered her own sister and waited to cash in? I’d seen one sister kill the other last summer. Jealousy and passion. What if the same thing had happened here? I knew I needed to fill Jerry in on this. That is, if he hadn’t questioned Gretchen already. Jerry’s lips couldn’t be pried apart with a crowbar, especially with those photographs coming out and Ben on the suspect list.

  The next time Trina passed my table, I stopped her. “Could I have my taco salad to go?”

  True to my earlier resolve, I went to Shapers the next morning before heading to the store. I needed to think, and what better way than to crank up the MP3 player and hit the treadmill.

  My legs burned, but I didn’t care. My mind burned, too. I could pencil a chronology in my head from the time Aunt Jewel left town to the time I followed Spot out into our muddy watermelon field. Nothing told me who would have a motive to kill Aunt Jewel, or why. Then I thought about the new information that arose last night about Gretchen Wilkes. She definitely had a motive for killing Honey. At least I thought so. The two cases competed for my attention.

  Vivian emerged from the office. Her makeup-free eyes didn’t look like cats’ eyes this morning. Instead she wore simple narrow-framed glasses. She moved to the kick-boxing bag dangling in the far corner of the mirrored room and started going at the bag like it was her worst enemy.

  I wondered what had happened. After Honey’s death and my realization that I’d blown chances to get to know a lonely soul, I’d prayed during my quiet times for chances to reach out to people and be a friend. In our rat-race world with its crazy schedules, sometimes we let people slide by too often.

  Should I spend ten more minutes on the treadmill or stop now and talk to Vivian? I decided to wait instead of accidentally being on the receiving end of a roundhouse kick from one of her wiry yet muscular legs. She must burn a ton of calories.

  Ben had come home late last night, but I didn’t find myself frustrated or pensive. Not only did I chat with Esther and find out a little more about Honey, but I saw firsthand Ben’s talent in the kitchen. And I saw how the other employees respected him. He wasn’t zany like Honey. Yet they followed his lead and the dinner crowd flowed in and out all evening.

  He’d found his passion, or so it seemed. I thanked God and Honey for helping him. Part of his reason for leaving long-haul trucking was me. That much I knew. He’d decided he was ready to settle down. But settling down didn’t mean a rut. I hoped he wasn’t headed for one at the restaurant. I know I couldn’t bear living in a state of sameness all the time. Trouble is, whenever I felt that strangulation, I tended to get antsy. I couldn’t help it. And then Ben would dig in his heels. I didn’t want to say the honeymoon was over, though.

  Falling in love was the easy part. But staying in love required work, commitment, and overlooking lots of faults on both sides.

  I glanced up. Vivian had quit attacking the bag and moved instead to a mat where she stretched. Splits. I could never do those. With a quick flick of my finger, the pace increased. Jogging. That I could handle. If I did enough time on this thing, I’d work off the extra biscuit from the other night at Momma’s, or the half- slice of chocolate applesauce cake.

  Momma still hadn’t decided what to do about a memorial service for Aunt Jewel. Now that her remains had been released by the authorities, Warner’s Chapel of Peace told Momma to take her time.

  By now my legs screamed for mercy, and I figured I’d had enough cardio. Vivian chose at that moment to emerge from her concentrated stretching. We met at the water cooler.

  “I feel so invigorated.” Vivian took a sip of water from a paper cone. “Almost human again. What a day.”

  “Having a bad one already? It’s sort of early for that.” I got my own cone of water. Hopefully the thing wouldn’t spring a leak.

  “Feelings leftover from a really lousy yesterday. Actually, the past few weeks. Okay. This year.” Vivian made a face at herself in one of the mirrors. “Ever since we came to Greenburg.”

  “What’s wrong? That is, if you want to talk about it.”

  “I. . .I don’t really have anyone to talk to around here.” She leaned against the counter. “I. . .I think Curtis is seeing someone else. At first I only had suspicions, but one night I fo
llowed him. I confronted him about it, and he said he’d never see her again. He promised me.”

  “Who. . .never mind.” I didn’t need to know, and now because of one little word, she would probably tell me.

  “I never knew. But he had that guilty look. He was sweating like a pig in August. Oh, wait. It is August. Anyway. . .” Her face paled. “I’m afraid I’m going to lose him. I thought with us moving to a small town, we’d slow down, spend more time together. Before we moved here, he met a woman online at a fan site for that actor Brent Balducci. Of course it’s uncanny how he looks like the guy, so she was almost stalking him. But Curtis promised me they were just friends. Now I guess he’s found someone else to spend time with. In person.”

  This was one time I thanked God those photos of Ben weren’t the whole story, or the whole truth. “Oh, Vivian. I’m sorry.”

  “I can’t sleep. And if I don’t do something to keep him interested, I’m afraid he’ll leave.” Good thing she didn’t put mascara on that morning. With her tears, she’d get a raccoon look. My heart went out to her.

  “I’m just a newlywed. But I still know that relationships are work.” Great, a platitude, just what Vivian needed. “Try loving him the way God loves him.” I hoped that didn’t sound like sermonizing.

  “I’m not very religious. At all.” She crossed her arms in front of her.

  “What I mean is, look at his heart, and see him. One thing that happens to Ben and me is we get so busy. Same house, separate vehicles, separate lives almost. Sometimes I see his laundry more than him. And something happened the other day that scared me.”

  “Which was?”

  “A glimpse of what life would be like if he weren’t true to me and I couldn’t trust him.” I took another sip of water. “But I realized I can trust him and do, and I never stopped. As long as we keep looking at each other’s hearts like God does, we’ll stay close. Or at least not very far away.”

  “That’s nice if it works for you.” Vivian moved behind the counter and scanned the calendar. “Curtis gets so angry sometimes. . .”

  “Really? He always seems so laid-back.”

  “He puts on a good public face. He doesn’t hit me or anything. He gets in these blue moods, making me feel like I’m trying to measure up to an unspoken standard. He’s impossible to please.”

  “Do you ever just talk to him like this?”

  She shook her head. “And I’m afraid if I try to ‘see him,’ like you say I should, he won’t let me. Some mornings, like today, he shuts me out.”

  The door to the gym opened, and a pair of exercisers entered. Vivian turned to greet them with her best smile. She glowed from her workout, and neither of the other women probably guessed she’d been dabbing at her tears a scant few minutes before.

  I went for my gym bag and gave Vivian a half- wave before heading to the locker room. My personal troubles seemed smaller, especially thinking of Ben.

  Once I arrived at Tennessee River Soaps, I straightened my displays and downloaded a list of Internet orders for Sadie to fill and package on her next scheduled work shift. Then I called Jerry to tell him my suspicions about Gretchen Wilkes. Maybe he had already checked her out, but she might have fooled him with that sweet exterior she put on when she wanted to. She’d shown me that quick-change act at the restaurant with the emotion she’d shown about her sister. But her resentment toward Ben and me over the will showed her sweetness didn’t run too deep.

  Fortunately, I caught Jerry at his desk. “Good, you’re there.”

  “Fleta said you had some news for me.” Fleta, the ever-efficient bailiff, dispatcher, and sometime receptionist, had put me “right through” as she put it, only after quizzing me about the details of my call, which I managed to keep as vague as possible.

  “Yes, I do. I had an interesting conversation with Gretchen Wilkes last evening. Did you know that she really resented Honey changing her will? If there’s a chance she knew about this ahead of time, she might have killed her.”

  “Or more logically, she might have tried to butter up her sister in an attempt to get back in her good graces. If Gretchen had killed Honey, she definitely would not have done it before she’d gotten that will changed to benefit her.” Jerry’s tone made me feel like a child. “Why kill her? Why not just get Honey to change her mind?”

  “Oh. I didn’t think of that. But what if Gretchen tried to do that the other night, and Honey wouldn’t budge? What if Gretchen lost it? Judging from the way she screeched at us over the phone the other night, she has a temper to match her sister’s.” I clicked onto my Web site. Maybe it was time for an update. I’d have to check the store’s budget and see if I could afford that.

  “How did you gain this new information, if she ‘screeched’ at you over the phone the other night?”

  “Last night she showed up at Honey’s Place, with a notebook in hand.” My heart pounded at the recollection of Gretchen assessing the restaurant as if she were an interior designer planning a renovation. “So, I had dinner next to her booth. Struck up a conversation.”

  “She didn’t know who you were?”

  “I’d only talked to her once over the phone, and that was just for a few minutes. Anyway, she told me that Honey had left what was rightfully hers to someone else who wasn’t family. She also said Honey had promised to remember her when she passed away.”

  “That doesn’t mean Gretchen killed her.”

  “Jerry, you’re supposed to be helping us here. Ben is a suspect. I’m just asking if you’ve included Gretchen in your investigation.”

  “Calm down. Ben is my brother. I’m giving the DA all the information related to the investigation. Including Gretchen and other people in Honey’s circle.”

  “I’m sorry. I was thinking of Ben, too. He didn’t seem too worried about Gretchen, though.” I fell silent. I didn’t want to talk too much to Jerry about Ben’s involvement in the case. That way if the DA or anyone else asked Jerry, he couldn’t share what I didn’t tell him. “But we did consult with Honey’s lawyer about the restaurant, and we secured Drew Michaels for Ben.”

  “I’m glad you did that. Because if I need to speak with him again about the night Honey died, Drew will be there.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Good.” Jerry paused. “Andi, I know this is hard for you, but hang in there. There have been some developments in the case, and I hope to have some news for you soon. Very soon.”

  We ended the call, and I spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon waiting on customers. When I had a lull, I rested my feet in my small office nook.

  Why did the situation with Gretchen bother me so much? Besides the fact that suspicion had been thrown onto Ben and I wanted his name cleared, of course. Lately I’d spent time resenting the restaurant, or at least Ben’s commitment to his job and his employer. My expectations of what married life was supposed to be like had fallen short.

  The idea of us possibly not having the responsibility of the restaurant should have relieved me of the burden. But then what would we do for income? We still had meager savings, but we couldn’t live on that and what Tennessee River Soaps made every month. And with Ben as a suspect, if he were actually charged with the crime, it wouldn’t surprise me if Gretchen got her way and Honey’s Place went to her.

  Worrywart. I’d spent more time fussing and running around trying to fix things, when I hadn’t prayed about Gretchen at all. I had to admit to myself that if a friend had come to me, I’d have encouraged her to pray. I sighed and reached for the phone. Taking my own advice would be a start. I decided to call Ben and see if he could sneak out and bring us lunch.

  Thirty minutes later, Ben showed up with his newest menu item, a chicken strip tortilla wrap that made my mouth water.

  “I came up with the recipe myself. It’s lighter. At least it has low-fat salad dressing.” He bit into his burger.

  “Ben, I owe you an apology.” I tried the tortilla wrap. If this was lighter, I’d eat thi
s for lunch every day.

  “What for?”

  “For being so cranky. Being married is an adjustment. Doesn’t it say somewhere that getting married is one of those ‘big’ lifetime events that can cause good stress? And another one is moving. And then there were two deaths, which means really, really bad stress.”

  “What are you chatterin’ about?” He took his finger and oh-so-gently wiped a spot of salad dressing from my cheek. After my workout earlier that morning, by the time lunch rolled around I was ready to eat anything not nailed down. The soap had even started smelling delicious.

  “We’ve had some life changes, and it’s no wonder things have been crazy.” My heart swelled as I looked at him. “But no matter what we go through, I wouldn’t want to go through it with anyone else. I realized I ought to pray more and worry less.”

  “Same here. Except I don’t think you need to ask my forgiveness. I haven’t been easy to live with, in and out of the house all the time. Gone more than I’m home. And I missed your big night at the Chamber. I still feel rotten about that.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Part of me realizes how much you love the restaurant, and you’re committed to it.” I waved off his words. “I just don’t ever want to get so busy that you slip right by me. Or vice versa.”

  “I can promise you and God that ain’t gonna happen.” He leaned in for a kiss, which I gladly returned.

  Then I took Ben’s hand. “And I’m sorry, too, about freaking out like I did about the whole situation with Gretchen. I didn’t mean you were ignoring it. I just figure we ought to pray about it. I feel a little sorry for her, being cut off from her sister like that, then losing her. It did bother me, though, the way she was looking at the place. As if she has plans for it.”

  Ben opened his mouth just as the phone rang.

  The caller ID said Greenburg PD, so I snatched up the phone right away.

  “I have some news. The news I was promising you before, in fact,” Jerry said. “I tried calling Ben, but I was told he snuck out to your store, Andi.”