A Simmering Dilemma

by Tyora Moody

  A Simmering Dilemma

  Tyora Moody

  A Simmering Dilemma

  A Eugeena Patterson Mystery, Book 4

  Copyright © 2020 by Tyora Moody

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

  A Simmering Dilemma is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-7336967-6-0

  ePub ISBN-13: 978-1-7336967-7-7

  Published by Tymm Publishing LLC

  PO Box 8384

  1600 Assembly St

  Columbia, SC 29202

  www.tymmpublishing.com

  Cover Design: TywebbinCreations.com

  Copy Editing/Proofreading: Felicia Murrell

  Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Cast of Characters

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Books By Tyora Moody

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my dear friend and college roommate, Audrey Riley. She introduced me to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I know you are resting in His arms right now. I will always be thankful for your precious friendship.

  Acknowledgements

  Eugeena is back! This character has been with me over a decade, and I can’t believe this is book number four. I started writing Deep Fried Trouble in 2008. Five years later, readers were introduced to Eugeena once Deep Fried Trouble was published in 2013. While I’m still not quite in her age range, I’m older myself, drawing closer to the day I can retire. Believe me, I don’t plan to take up being an amateur sleuth, but I hope to have many, many more books with her and her growing circle of family and friends.

  I want to thank my editor, Felicia Murrell for lending her eyes and expertise to this current adventure. I can’t thank you enough for your editing skills. No writer ever reaches the stage where they don’t need to continue to grow and you definitely help guide that growth process.

  I want to thank my mom, who is a number one fan of Eugeena. My mom is an avid reader and her words of wisdom are often built into this character. It brings me great joy to write stories she enjoys. I appreciate her letting me share ideas with her.

  Eugeena has developed quite a fanbase from the first three books. A part of that comes from the talents of Sharell Palmer who I’ve worked with as the narrator for the audiobook versions. When I heard her voice, I felt so connected to her. I thought to myself, “She sounds like the Eugeena in my head.” It’s been a joy to make sure those who do better with listening to a story have this medium to enjoy. I look forward to working with Sharell in the future on more audiobooks.

  Lastly, a huge thanks to all my readers, especially the book clubs. I’ve met with quite a few of you and I’m always so tickled to hear how much you enjoy Eugeena. I knew back in 2008, there was something special about this character and I’m thankful to God for the opportunity to share her stories. Although there is usually a dead body in most of them, I hope readers see Eugeena’s faith and her passion for helping others shine through too.

  Cast of Characters

  Sugar Creek is a fictional neighborhood in Charleston, South Carolina. In A Simmering Dilemma, readers will find many familiar supporting characters from previous Eugeena Patterson mysteries. Just in case you need a reminder of who is who, refer to this list below. I promise that any character introduced from the Sugar Creek neighborhood has something to contribute to the story. I hope you enjoy dropping by the neighborhood for a visit. Ms. Eugeena appreciates you joining the adventure.

  Recurring Characters from the Series

  (listed according to appearance)

  Detective Sarah Wilkes

  Annie Mae Brown (Missionary Baptist Church, volunteer)

  Willie Mae Brown (Missionary Baptist Church, volunteer)

  Amani Gladstone (precocious student in summer program)

  Louise Hopkins (Eugeena’s next door neighbor)

  Jocelyn Miller (Louise’s granddaughter)

  Eugeena’s Family

  Ralph Patterson, Jr. (oldest son married to Judy, twin boys, Jacob and Joseph, girl, Jasmine)

  Cedric Patterson (son married to Carmen Alpine-Patterson)

  Leesa Patterson (daughter, single, two children, Kisha and Tyric)

  Amos’s Family

  Alexa Jones-McCormick (oldest daughter lives in Seattle with son, Douglas)

  Briana Jones (youngest daughter has moved into old family home next door)

  Eugeena’s Aunts

  Cora Gibson (aunt closest in age to Eugeena)

  Esther Gibson (oldest living aunt)

  Chapter 1

  One of my favorite proverbs states, “A happy heart makes the face cheerful.” I could truly say I’ve never been happier in all my life. It’s been five months since I officially became Eugeena Patterson-Jones. I married my next door neighbor on a Saturday in February, and I know other newlyweds could relate to my joy. But, I’m no ordinary newlywed. I’m sixty-one years old, and I enjoy taking advantage of my AARP and other senior citizens’ discounts. Pending social security, my world consists of retirement activities, and oh yeah, sharing my home with a man again. I’d been a widow for five years.

  A few years ago, I couldn’t have imagined that, at my age, the man I’d secretly had a crush on would become my second husband. The Lord does work in mysterious ways. He could surprise even an old bird like me.

  After much discussion, Amos officially moved into the home where I’d raised my three children. His home where he’d resided alone after his wife’s death remained empty, and Amos pondered putting the house on the market after he moved in with me.

  Until three months ago.

  After living in California, trying to make it as a singer, Amos’s youngest daughter moved back home. She’d showed up to surprise her father for Easter Sunday. Next thing we knew, she seemed to remain in Charleston long after her impromptu visit. Amos hadn’t turned off the utilities yet, so Briana embraced her parents’ former home and appeared to have placed her life in California behind her. This all happened pretty fast and I can’t say I was completely comfortable with our new neighbor.

  Briana had a rough few years during and after her mom’s battle with breast cancer. Perhaps being in the house where her mother last lived provided some comfort. Amos kept many reminders of Francine Jones in the house. After a lengthy estrangement from her father, I recognized that Briana needed him in her life. Just because our children grow up and get their own lives doesn’t mean they stop needing us.

  Right now, I wasn’t sure how well I could remain supportive. For the second night in a row, music blasted from next door into our bedroom. With no cares of this being a Sunday evening, the heavy bass and thumping penetrated right through the window. I thought the windows would sha
tter at some point.

  Next to me, Amos wrestled with the covers on the bed. I knew he was restraining himself from going over to visit his baby girl. In not so many words, before we retired for the night, he’d expressed that he didn’t miss the drama that came with facing his youngest daughter.

  I knew about drama, having birthed a drama queen myself. The difference was my youngest child and daughter lived across town and showed up occasionally when she needed free babysitting. Leesa was a twenty-three year-old single mom with two young children. Thank goodness her party days ended the moment she delivered her first child at age seventeen.

  Briana was twenty-six with no children and clearly had no intentions of settling down.

  “I need to go over there.” Amos’s voice was gruff, concealing more anger than I knew he had.

  I propped myself on my elbow. “Is that really a good idea? Last time didn’t go so well.”

  Last time was the previous night. I wanted to march over to the house myself, but knew I needed to let Amos handle it. Amos tried, but that’s not what happened. All I heard was yelling and screaming. Not from Amos. Amos was the silent type who kept his thoughts inside and his face grim. Briana, on the other hand, was livid. And despite the fact she was living in her parents’ home rent-free, she insisted Amos had no right to tell her what to do.

  There was so much on my mind, but I held my tongue. Besides, this was my fault. Last Christmas, I’d encouraged Amos to reach out to his daughters. After Amos’s first wife died, his precarious relationship with both daughters had faded to almost nonexistent. I wanted both of our families to come together before Amos and I officially married. It seemed like the right thing to do.

  His oldest daughter, Alexa still lived across the country in Seattle, but kept in touch a lot more. This summer, we were promised time with Douglas, Amos’s grandson. All appeared to be healed and improving with his oldest daughter.

  Amos’s youngest daughter was another whole situation.

  The mattress sprang as Amos jumped up from the bed. He turned the lamp on, illuminating the side of the bedroom with the window. “I can’t take this anymore, Eugeena. I’m about to think the girl is doing this on purpose.”

  I didn’t want to agree with him, but I was thinking the same thing.

  As soon as Amos had pulled on his pants, the music stopped. We peered at each other. Loud voices drifted up to our window, and then we heard the sounds of car doors slamming and engines revving.

  I blinked, “Maybe the party is over.” Not that there should have been one at all. Didn’t any of the people over there work? It was a Sunday night for crying out loud. Sundays were supposed to be for rest, so people could ease into the work week.

  Amos grunted. “I guess there’s hope for that girl after all.”

  I was feeling even more suspicious. Kind of weird how everything stopped when Amos turned on the light. I kept that to myself, though I really wanted to blurt it out loud.

  With a swiftness that defied his age, Amos undressed and returned to bed. With the lights out, I edged closer to his warm body as he wrapped his arm around me. I have to say this was one of my favorite parts about being married and something I missed.

  I’m not sure how long after we both drifted back to sleep, but noise shrilled from the bedside next to Amos. It was his phone.

  He reached over to grab it.

  I listened, my eyes slipping back closed, desperately wanting my sleep that had been snatched away. As Amos’s conversation started to penetrate my ears, my eyes popped open again.

  He’d sat up, raising his voice in a panic. “You found what, Briana?”

  Thinking this couldn’t be good I sat up and clutched the covers to my chest, while listening intently for more information.

  Amos stood from the bed, gripping the phone in his hands. “Don’t touch anything. Give me a few minutes to get dressed.” He threw the phone down on the bed in a huff. “Briana said someone was killed.”

  I sucked in a breath and choked out, “Killed?” I turned to climb out of bed. “In the house? Who? How?”

  Amos reached for the same pair of pants that he’d climbed into earlier. “She found a body in the shed.”

  “In the shed? I’m going with you.”

  He blew out a breath. “Eugeena, I can handle this. You don’t need to go over there.”

  “Of course I do. When Leesa was in trouble, you helped me. Don’t forget about Carmen and her friend, Jocelyn.”

  He rubbed his hand across his bald head.

  I held up my hands to ward off his protests. “I’m just going to support you. And Briana must be scared out of her mind.”

  It was the least I could do. Plus, I was feeling really bad about my feelings towards Briana. Lord, I’m sorry for not being more understanding about Briana. The girl is begging for help in her own way.

  I couldn’t replace her mother, but it was obvious that Briana had been on a downward destructive spiral since her mother died.

  I prayed that she hadn’t gone off the deep end.

  Chapter 2

  This was not my first dead body.

  Though I never worked a homicide like Amos, I’ve managed to help solve a few murder cases. I wouldn’t call it a hobby, but I have managed to find myself investigating how people died, one being my dear friend, Mary Fleming. I’d been estranged from my friend for a few years. That fateful day something led me to her home while I was out walking. Finding her body had changed me forever and placed a different perspective on my retired years than I imagined.

  I pushed that memory back as I stood next to Amos. It was silent in the backyard, like all the creatures decided to become still. The only sound was next door where Porgy, the Corgi that I inherited from Mary, was throwing a fit at the backdoor that led out to our yard.

  I tore my eyes away from the body to peer over at Amos’s daughter. Despite tears running down Briana’s face, she stood rigid, her arms wrapped around her body like a straitjacket. I was worried she was either going into shock or on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

  “No one touch anything.” Amos stated as he dialed 9-1-1.

  I didn’t want to look any more than I already had, but I found myself curiously viewing the body in the shed again. I covered my nose, but could still smell the unpleasant odor of decay in the air. The woman’s large brown eyes seemed to stare at something across from her. It wasn’t her stillness that struck me as much as the large gash on the right side of her head.

  Had she fallen somewhere? Or did someone hit her across the head with something?

  Even more disturbing were the markings of dirt across the concrete floor. She’d been dragged into the shed and purposely placed across from the entrance, to be found by whoever walked through the door.

  But, why?

  And, who was she?

  I had a sense that I’d seen the woman before. She appeared young, between the age of my daughter and Briana. Her clothing was casual, blue denim jeans, a bright yellow halter top and sandals. I could tell she’d artfully applied her makeup, though now the mascara was smeared across her cheeks. She was a really pretty woman with pecan colored skin, now lifeless. I wondered if I had her as a student. It was quite possible since I taught eighth grade social studies for so many years. It was a common occurrence for me to run into a former student, now an adult.

  Something on her hand caught my attention. It appeared to be smudged from my distance. I pointed, “What’s on her hand? That doesn’t look like a tattoo.”

  Amos answered, “Looks like some kind of stamp. She may have been someplace else before arriving here.”

  I stepped back, suddenly feeling nauseous. The smell was waning my curiosity. This woman had been here for more than a few hours. I moved away from the door and farther into the yard. Amos followed suit a few seconds later. He stood by Briana as he gazed intently towards the shed.

  Despite being a retired homicide detective, I’d learned that Amos couldn’t turn down an investigation. T
his one tonight had hit too close to home.

  I faced Briana whose body was turned towards the house like she wanted to flee at any moment.

  I leaned in close and spoke softly, as if to a young child. “I don’t know why, but she looks so familiar to me. Did you know her, Briana?”

  Briana seemed to shrink inwardly, puzzlement on her face. “I don’t know where she came from or why she was here.”

  During that instance, I noticed Briana had alcohol on her breath. She was standing upright, so she wasn’t drunk, but she’d been drinking. I wanted to scold Briana. What is wrong with you? An even more important question, why was Briana letting all kinds of people in her father’s house anyway? She was old enough to know better than to be this reckless. I glanced over at Amos. My husband’s face reflected what I was thinking.

  Amos peered over at his daughter, disapproval marred his face. He pointed towards the shed, “I’m pretty sure when CSI arrives they’re not going to find a lot of blood inside the shed. That crime scene is somewhere else, maybe on this property.” He paced the length of the yard by the shed. “Someone purposely chose to hide her body. That same person could have pushed her or possibly struck her with an object to cause that head damage.” He peered around the yard as though searching for the murder weapon.

  It took me a moment to process that information. My body began to shiver. “I can’t believe someone would just leave her that way.”