Murder and Misdeeds

by Helen Goodman

  The policeman shot his eyebrows up at Fonnie. “In the bathroom. You got a problem with that, ma'am?”

  “I'm sure Lieutenant Steinberg will have a problem with it when he finds out you let a possible murderer in to see the patient you're supposed to be guarding.”

  He faced the nurse. “What is she talking about?”

  The nurse shook her head. “You told me that Mrs. Beachum and Mr. Riggs, the patient's brother, were allowed in. Since Miss Riggs was awake, I went to the waiting room to see if her brother wanted to go in. Since that gentleman was the only African-American in the waiting room, I assumed he was Mr. Riggs.”

  Lula put both her hands on her waist, gave the nurse an incredulous look. “You didn't ask his name?”

  “Of course, I did. Well, not really. I called him Mr. Tyrone Riggs and he nodded his head. So why should I have questioned him further?”

  Fonnie noticed Sergeant Hayes's face turning a shade paler. “So an unauthorized person visited the patient?”

  “Yes,” the nurse said. “I'm sorry, but it wasn't my fault. And nothing happened. Miss Riggs is fine.”

  “No thanks to you,” Lula said. “If Fonnie hadn't whopped him with her purse there's no telling what might have happened. And there's no telling where Stephon might be this very minute.”

  Sergeant Hayes grabbed his cell phone and punched a number at the same time he tore out to the waiting room. He stopped in mid-stride when he spotted Stephon slumped in a chair.

  Lula, Fonnie, and the nurse all stopped and stared too. “How about that?” Lula said. “I thought he'd be halfway to the state line by now.”

  Fonnie started in Stephon's direction when Lula pulled her back. “The cops can handle this. Let's go. Clara is going to wonder what happened to us.”

  “No,” Fonnie said. “I'm not leaving until I know Keisha's safe. There needs to be two cops here, one to guard Keisha and one to find out what Stephon was up to.”

  She made her way over to Sergeant Hayes. He gave her a sheepish smile. “I informed Lieutenant Steinberg of the mishap here,” he said. “He's on his way. In the meantime, I swear I'll not leave my post. It doesn't look like our friend is going anywhere. Steinberg can question him when he gets here.”

  Lula gently tugged at Fonnie's arm. “It'll be all right now. Let's go.”

  As they made their way to Seafood Heaven, Lula gave Clara a blow-by-blow account of the incident.

  “Good Lord,” Clara said as the story ended, “does that mean Stephon is the one who attacked Keisha and that he meant to finish the job?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” Clara said from the back seat. “He may simply have taken advantage of the breakdown in security to sneak in to see her. He said he wanted to tell her he loved her. The fact that he didn't run away is in his favor.”

  Clara looked over at Fonnie. “What do you think?”

  “I don't know. I might have over-reacted. Maybe he is innocent. Love can make a person do peculiar things.”

  “Tell me about it,” Lula said. “I've even given up drinking until all this mess is solved. Edgar is so upset about Buzz and Melanie, I decided I had to keep a cool head to look after him. Ain't that love for you?”

  Fonnie twisted around in her seat and smiled at Lula. “Sounds like. Edgar's lucky to have you by his side.”

  Seafood Heaven lived up to its name. Fonnie dug into the succulent flounder, the crispy hush puppies, the crunchy coleslaw, and downed several glasses of sugary iced tea. The women kept all talk of murder and misdeeds at bay while they tackled the serious job of eating. At last Lula dropped her fork with a sigh of satisfaction. “I had forgotten how good food could taste.”

  Clara munched on the last hush puppy. “Just think,” she said, “I can claim to be eating for two for the next several months. I'm going to enjoy this pregnancy.”

  “Enjoy it while you can,” Fonnie said. “After the baby comes, you won't have time to eat.”

  As the waiter cleared away the dishes, their lighthearted chatter faded. Fonnie looked from one young woman to the other. She had become very fond of Clara in the past few days and she was learning to like Lula more each time they were together. She hoped they both had good futures in front of them. She smiled and tried to block out the foreboding that persisted in the back of her brain.

  Clara restarted the conversation. “Tony and I are going home in the morning. We're taking Midge home.” She gave a slight shiver. “Buzz's body is on the way to the funeral home now. Hank and Doris will be going later tomorrow. There seems to be some delay about releasing Melanie's body. I don't understand it.”

  Fonnie didn't actually understand it either, but it had something to do with the powder Keisha had mentioned in Melanie's ring. If the others didn't know about it, though, she wasn't going to tell them. “How horrible that a beautiful wedding ended in two funerals. Your dad and Amy are going to have a terrible homecoming after their honeymoon. All they know at this point is that Buzz died. Jeremiah didn't want to call them about the autopsy result or about Melanie and Keisha.”

  “I think he made the right decision,” Lula said. “There's nothing they could do. When are they returning?”

  “Tomorrow night. They're flying back here to get their car, and then they plan on driving home to Virginia on Thursday.” Fonnie stirred some more sugar into her tea, took a sip, and then went on. “That's when Keisha and I were planning on going home—after a nice peaceful vacation. Now it looks like she'll be going home in an ambulance. I hope she'll be able to travel soon. She needs to be close to her family, and Tyrone needs to be in school.”

  “But,” Lula said, “will the police let her leave? That is, before they've solved the case?”

  Fonnie bristled. “The police have nothing to do with it. It's up to the doctor when she can travel. Besides, she doesn't know a thing about the case.”

  “She doesn't remember calling you just before she was attacked that night?”

  “Calling me?” Fonnie gave Lula a perplexed look. Then all of a sudden, the memory of the story she'd made up came back to her. “Oh, you mean, the call she made when I was half asleep. No, she can't remember making the call, and I can't remember what she said. It may come back to me sometime.”

  “It probably wasn't important,” Clara said. “Our subconscious has a way of blocking out trivial information. The only important thing is that she recovers.”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  It was nearly eight o'clock when Clara and Lula left Fonnie at the hospital. They had wanted to take her back to the motel for the night, but Fonnie insisted she had to check on Keisha again. “And I have to find out the aftermath of Stephon's escapade,” she said.

  She kissed Clara on the cheek. “I probably won't see you again before you leave, so have a good trip home.” Turning her head to the back seat, she smiled at Lula. “Hang in there.”

  When she entered the waiting room, Fonnie was surprised to see only Brian in what she had come to consider the Keisha corner. Another family group occupied chairs in the opposite corner. Brian was thumbing through a copy of Sports Illustrated, from back to front, pausing from time to time to scan a picture. He glanced up as she came closer and removed a jacket from the chair next to his. “Have a seat.”

  “Where are the others?” she asked.

  “I sent them back to the motel. Jeremiah looked pretty beat. He's in great condition for a man his age, but he has his limits. And I insisted that Tyrone get away. I told him to run up and down the beach a few times. He's not used to being cooped up.”

  “Good idea. And Stephon?”

  Brian grinned. “Steinberg took care of him. Banned him from the hospital.”

  “What?”

  “Not really. But he quizzed him on his little shenanigan of getting into ICU. Stephon convinced him that it was completely harmless, that he only wanted to see Keisha. So Steinberg let him go, but told him he didn't want to see his face around here again.” Brian laughed. “The nurse told me about how you
walloped him with your purse. You've got a wicked swing, Gram.”

  “Oh, dear. I guess I owe him an apology.”

  “Not at all. You did what any mother hen would do—hit first and ask questions later. He deserved what he got for scaring you like that. Of course, what he did reminds me of some of the stunts you've pulled in the past. You're not above lying to get what you want.”

  “I know. Maybe I've underestimated that boy. I'm going to have to get better acquainted with him.”

  Fonnie squirmed around in her chair trying to figure out how to ask her next question without hurting Brian. There was no easy way, so she came out with it. “Did Steinberg tell you about the white powder in Melanie's ring?”

  Brian nodded. “He's waiting for it to be identified.”

  “Do you think she was using cocaine?”

  “If she was, I never suspected it. But then, in light of other things I've learned, there was a lot about Melanie's life I never suspected.” Brian leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Fonnie had to strain to hear his next sentence. “I guess I was a fool for a pretty face.”

  “We're all fools at one time or another,” Fonnie said. “Don't make a habit of it.”

  Brian sat up straight, forced a smile. “Next time you see me going off the deep end, just zap me with your purse to wake me up.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Fonnie said. She stood up. “I'm going to ask to see Keisha again and then you can run me back to the motel.” She started for the door, then stopped as Lieutenant Steinberg came in their direction. When he got close enough to hear, she said, “I was just going in to see Keisha. Want to come along?”

  The detective shot her a bemused look. “That sounds like my line. Are we getting our roles reversed again?”

  “Of course not. You boss. Me—spectator.”

  “Good. Let's keep it that way,” he said. “Now, I'm going in to see Miss Riggs. Would you like to come along?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Fonnie winked at Brian as she and the detective walked past.

  Fonnie noticed a different policeman was on guard duty. She hoped Sergeant Hayes hadn't gotten too much of a reprimand for this afternoon's fiasco.

  When they reached Keisha's cubicle, Fonnie slipped ahead of the detective and gave her a quick hug. Keisha greeted them with a huge smile. She held up her hand for attention. Steinberg and Fonnie stared expectantly. Keisha opened her mouth, took a deep breath, and said, “A-a-ah.” She took another breath and this time she breathed out, “Fon-nie.”

  Keisha's voice was raspy but it sounded beautiful to Fonnie. “You can talk! How wonderful. Can you eat?”

  “Drink.” To demonstrate, Keisha reached over to her bedside stand, picked up what looked like a milkshake and slurped some through a straw.

  “Looks like you're well on your way to recovery,” Lieutenant Steinberg said. “Has the doctor told you when you could be discharged?”

  Keisha nodded. Instead of trying to say anything else, she grabbed the clipboard and wrote, 2-3 days. Then she added, ambulance to Groverton hosp.

  “That's great news,” Steinberg said.

  Fonnie blew her nose and wiped at her eyes. “That's marvelous news.”

  “And what's your other news?” Steinberg asked. “The officer called me. Said you had something to show me.”

  Keisha reached under her pillow, pulled out a folded slip of paper, and handed it to the detective.

  Steinberg unfolded the paper and studied it carefully. “This is what you remember from the paper you found in Buzz's pocket?”

  Keisha nodded her head. “Yes,” she said. Then she wrote, It must be important since it was taken.

  “Or it may have fallen from your pocket,” the detective said. “It may be insignificant and your attacker may have had no interest in it.”

  “Taken,” Keisha said with raspy force. She grabbed her pencil again and wrote, Jeans tight, paper would not fall out.

  “She's right,” Fonnie said. “Her jeans are so tight I'm surprised she can bend over. I'm afraid she might be cutting off circulation to some vital organs.”

  “So maybe it is significant,” Steinberg said. He examined the paper more closely. He pointed to where Keisha had printed Myers, Garrison, Trent Law Firm. “Does this mean it was on their letterhead?”

  “Yes.”

  “But we don't know for sure that Buzz wrote it. It could have been something he found in the office. And since we don't have the original we can't check the handwriting or fingerprints.”

  Fonnie scrunched up as close to Steinberg as she dared, trying to get a peek, but he kept it just out of her line of vision. She finally said in exasperation, “Are you going to let me see it or not?”

  “Oh,” he said, sounding surprised. “Are you interested in this?”

  She gave him a withering glance. “I'm doing everything except stand on my head to see it. Of course, I'm interested.”

  Keisha came out with something that resembled a laugh. “Same–old–Fon–nie.”

  Steinberg handed Fonnie the paper. “See if you can make anything out of it. But in case it turns out to be a valuable piece of evidence, I don't want any mention of it outside of this room.”

  “Understood.” Fonnie read quickly over the scattered words and names, and noted the many question marks. “Looks like the writer had questions about a lot of things. None of it makes any sense to me.” She looked up at Keisha. “When we were here last time you said you thought Amy might be involved. What made you think that?”

  “Trent–stone.” She picked up the clipboard and wrote, Trentstone Estates. Amy's Realty handles their sales. She watched Fonnie, then wrote, maybe no connection.

  “There's one way to find out,” Fonnie said. “Amy and Paul are flying in tomorrow. We can ask them.”

  “I'll ask them,” Steinberg said. “No need for you to worry about it, Mrs. Beachum.”

  “Understood,” Fonnie repeated. “I appreciate you sharing information with me, and I assure you I'll be discreet.”

  Lieutenant Steinberg took the paper back, slid it into his pocket, and shook Fonnie's hand. “I'll be going now. What time is your daughter due to arrive?”

  “About six. Brian could tell you exactly.”

  The detective reached across the bed and shook hands with Keisha. “Thanks so much for your help. Have a good night's rest now.”

  Fonnie's gaze followed Steinberg out of the cubicle. “Nice man. Smart, too. He'll get to the bottom of all this mess. And he's right. You need to rest. Goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow.”

  Keisha reached out and grasped Fonnie's arm. She waved the clipboard indicating for Fonnie to wait while she wrote another message. The message was short. Why did you hit Stephon?

  A myriad of answers raced through Fonnie's brain. How could she explain without really explaining? “It was a mistake,” she finally said. “I thought he was upsetting you.”

  Keisha shook her head. Her words came out a little faster than her previous speeches. “He was kiss-ing me.”

  Fonnie shrugged. “Like I said. It was a mistake. It won't happen again.”

  “Good.”

  Fonnie waved good-bye and made a quick exit. The nurse stopped her on the way out. “It won't be necessary for anyone to stay tonight. Miss Riggs is doing well. The doctor has left orders for her to be moved to a regular room in the morning.”

  “Fine.” Fonnie started to push the door, then turned back. “But she'll still have a police guard after she's moved, won't she?”

  “Oh yes, you can be sure of that.”

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Fonnie awoke early, refreshed, filled with anticipation and thankfulness. Thankful that Keisha was out of danger and anticipation for the arrival of the newlyweds later that day. In the meantime she had high hopes that the good Lieutenant Steinberg would be filling in some of the missing puzzle pieces.

  She started going over the missing pieces in her head as she showered and shampooed. But her mind was soon sid
etracked to thinking about her hair. It had definitely taken a turn for the worse since she'd had it carefully coiffed in preparation for the wedding. She was getting tired of the drab gray and was so looking forward to getting home to her beauty parlor and getting some color back. Her mind went briefly to Jeremiah and wondered how he felt about red hair. She'd have to sound him out, because she had a feeling that she'd be seeing him often in the future.

  She gave a final rinse to her hair and pulled her mind back to the mysteries surrounding her. Why and by whom was Buzz killed? Was Amy's real estate agency involved? What drug was in Melanie's ring? Why was she killed? Why was Keisha abducted and left for dead?

  Fonnie wrapped up in her fuzzy robe and stepped onto her balcony. She gazed out on what appeared to be the beginning of a beautiful day. The sun was dazzling, the surf was tranquil, the world smelled clean. She decided to walk the beach before breakfast. She called Brian's cell phone. He didn't answer, so she left a brief message. She pulled on a sweat suit and headed out.

  She took deep breaths of the fresh, heady air, and sensed the coming of an early spring. She forgot for a few minutes that she was an old woman still not completely recovered from a stroke. In her mind, she was running barefoot over the sand, chasing the gulls, splashing in the waves. She was young, adventuresome, and ready to take on the world.

  A man's voice interrupted her fantasy. “Good morning, Fonnie. Want to take a boat ride?”

  She turned to where the voice came from. Past the motel pier she saw Edgar Myers. He waved to her. She waved back. She walked a little faster and he strolled to meet her. “I don't see any boat,” she said as she came closer.

  “It's at the marina. I was headed that way. Felt like I had to get out, feel the ocean beneath me, breathe the salt air. Maybe say a decent good-bye to Buzz and Melanie. They both loved to go out for a fast ride.” He took Fonnie by the arm and guided her around a large piece of driftwood. “Come and go with me. I could use some good company.”

  “Sounds tempting. I haven't been on a boat for over two years. But I can't. I have to get to the hospital and check on Keisha.”