“But you had so much to lose, Ms. Price. Your reputation, your business.” She hooked her thumbs in her utility belt and puffed out her chest. “Here’s what I think. I think you knew all about your ex’s shenanigans. Heck, maybe you even helped him plan it. Then when he got busted, you played all dumb-like.”
Margie shook her head, discreetly swiping a finger under her eye. But her wet mascara left a telltale black smudge. “No, that’s not what happened. There was an investigation. I was exonerate—”
Maudy held up her hand and silenced her. “You waited until things cooled down, then changed your name and moved down here to start a new life. Always wondered why you chose to come down here in the first place, bein’ that you’re a Northerner, and all.” She said the word “Northerner” like she had a mouth full of mud. “And this place.” She waved her hand around the room. “I remember what it looked like before. It was a dump. Must’ve cost a fortune to fix it up. Maybe you used those diamonds to—”
“I don’t think so,” I interrupted. Of course, although I knew from Ida that Margie had taken out a huge loan from the Cays Mill Bank & Trust, saying so might land Hollis in trouble. Hollis had already had enough trouble to last a lifetime. “But Ganassi might have thought so. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have gone to so much trouble looking for them. He practically searched every inch of this house.” And mine. “But Margie couldn’t have stashed them here, because she didn’t have them and she’d left behind everything of her old life when—” My breath caught. Then it hit me! “Except there’s one spot I bet he didn’t consider.”
I hurried down the hall to my room, stopping in front of the large armoire. The others had followed me, and I turned to see Margie’s puzzled face. “The other day you told me this was the only possession you kept from your first marriage. Why?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. It was a gift from Kevin . . . the last gift he gave me. He’d said he wanted to start things over for us, sent it to me where I was staying at my parents and . . . I liked to think he’d meant it.”
The armoire had a large top section for hanging clothes and three drawers on the bottom. I opened the double doors on the top section and started knocking on the interior wood.
“You’re looking for a secret compartment,” Hawk said, joining me. He started running his fingers along the joints of the wood and then on the outside of the cabinet, where ornately scrolled pilasters flanked either side. I, in turn, started pulling out the drawers and dumping their contents on the bed, so I could closely examine each one.
Margie joined in, knocking on the outside panels of wood, listening for a hollow sound. The sheriff stood off to the side, shaking her head. “Y’all are wastin’ my time with this hogwash. Hidden compartments? I’ve never heard anything so stupid.”
“Whoa! I think I’ve got somethin’,” Hawk said. He was halfway inside the cabinet, pushing against the lower back corner. “This corner piece feels different. . . . Oh hey, look at this.” Suddenly, a little piece along the bottom of the cabinet popped out, leaving a small hole. Hawk hooked his finger in and lifted up a large portion of the wood, revealing a false bottom.
“Move out of the way,” Maudy ordered, elbowing her way in closer. “Well, I’ll be!” she exclaimed. “Look at what I found.” She turned around, grinning like the Cheshire cat and holding a diamond between her thumb and forefinger. She slid her eyes toward Margie. “You best come with me, Ms. Price. You’ve got some explainin’ to do.”
“Explaining? What’s there to explain?” Hawk’s mouth twisted in anger. “She didn’t know the diamonds were hidden here.”
“That’s right,” I agreed. “Why would she have kept them hidden here all these years? She could’ve cashed them in a long time ago.”
Maudy pulled out an evidence bag and started scooping up the remaining gems. “Who’s to say she didn’t sell off a few? Now step aside. I’m takin’ her in until I can get ahold of someone in Detroit and get some answers.”
“This is crazy.” Margie shook her head. “I honestly had no idea they were hidden here, Sheriff. And I can’t go in for more questioning. I have obligations this evening. Tomorrow’s Election Day!”
Maudy clutched the bag of diamonds in one of her meaty hands while she wrapped the other around Margie’s arm. “Well, your ‘obligations’ will just have to wait.” She turned a nasty glare at me, saying, “Seems everyone has other issues to deal with when I end up on their doorstep,” as if my daddy’s surgery was just a ploy to avoid her. “But it’s just a matter of time and I’ll ‘get my man,’ if you get my drift.”
Oh, I got her drift, all right: she still wanted to take down a Harper. Other crimes and suspects took a backseat to that personal vendetta of hers. I swallowed my anger and fear and tried to appeal to her ego, if not her reason. “We understand you’re just doing your job, Sheriff. It can’t be easy, what with several crimes at once, from murder and high-value thefts to all those church chairs missing and—”
“Chairs gone missing? Nola, don’t you think for one second that you can distract me into forgetting about your daddy. He’s not off the hook, that’s for darn sure. Until I get to the bottom of this,” she shook the evidence bag full of diamonds, “he’s still top on my list for Clem’s murder.” She jerked Margie’s arm. “Come on, let’s go.”
Hawk started to protest, but the sheriff elbowed past him, escorting Margie toward the door. Margie turned to me in a panic. “Can you lock up for me, Nola? Just in case . . .”
“I sure will. And don’t worry, Margie. One way or another, this will be cleared up soon. I promise.” But she didn’t look reassured.
* * *
“You sounded awfully sure of yourself, darlin’.” We were on the front porch of Sunny Side Up. I’d packed my belongings and was double-checking the front lock before leaving.
“How’s that?”
“When you told Margie that things would be cleared up soon.”
I told him about how I thought Lucas knew who killed Clem. “I tried to convince him to come by the diner tonight and meet with Ray.” I shook my head. “But I don’t know. He’s scared. You see, I’ve been looking at things all wrong, thinking that there were two people working together. I mean, how else could someone have killed Clem just minutes after my father met with him? And then worked so hard to frame Daddy with the handkerchief in Clem’s sheets, the gas can . . . well, it all seemed like it would be a two-person job. And then for a while, I thought for sure it all had something to do with Whitaker, I mean Ganassi. But now, I’m not so sure. I think Clem’s murder is tied in with the scrap metal thefts. At least I’m pretty sure. I just need to prove it.”
He was smirking. “And how do you plan to do that?”
“It’s not going to be easy,” I was about to tell him my plan, but we were suddenly interrupted by a loud rumbling sound. I looked over to see someone pulling up on a Harley.
Hawk tensed. “Oh crap.”
“Is that Laney?” I asked. But I didn’t have to wonder for long. She slid off the bike and slowly removed her helmet, shaking her long, highly processed tresses over her shoulders. Then she bent down, generous cleavage in full view beneath her half-zippered black leather jacket, peered in the handlebar mirror and fluffed up her teased out bangs. Satisfied that she was properly tidied up, she headed up the walk, the silver studs on her knee-high leather boots scraping together as she sashayed toward us, heavily lined eyes trained on Hawk.
“Hey, babe,” he said, his tone a pitch higher than normal.
“Don’t hey, babe me. I’ve been lookin’ all over town for you.” She briefly slid her eyes my way. “Where’ve ya been?”
Hawk shifted uncomfortably. “Nowhere. I mean, here. Margie Price just got taken away by the sheriff and I was here to help her.” He looked hopeful, like a little boy hoping a wilted dandelion would make up for a poor report card.
“Really?” L
aney looked around at the locked house and empty street. “And so it’s just the two of you here now, is it?”
“Well, yeah, but I was just . . . uh, talking to Nola here.”
“Great bike, Laney,” I said, attempting to bring this fiasco around to some semblance of normalcy. But the look she shot me made me squirm. I swallowed hard. “Hawk was just helping me with some investigating stuff. You know, to help Margie. Really,” I added.
“Investigating stuff? Is that what y’all call it?”
“Easy, babe,” Hawk said. “No need to get all worked up over nothin’.”
“Nothin’? That’s not what I’ve been hearin’.” The fringe on her leather jacket swung back and forth as she waggled her shoulders. “And now you’ve stood me up.”
“Stood you up?” Hawk’s mouth fell open. “Oh, I completely forgot.”
“Forgot!” she shrieked. “You said we were goin’ out to lunch and then for a ride. And after I took the afternoon off from work and everything! Well, maybe you’ve been so forgetful because your mind’s been somewhere else.” She gave me a nasty up-and-down. “Or on someone else.”
Hawk’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “No. ’Course not, darlin’.” He grabbed her hand and started leading her down the porch steps. “Come on, let me make it up to you. I’ll take you to that nice restaurant over in Perry. The one you’ve always wanted to try.”
“But what about the case?” I yelled after him.
He turned back briefly. “I’ll come by the diner later. Until then, don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
Chapter 18
Southern Girl Secret #057: Strong Southern gals are made up of ninety percent good-heartedness and ten percent badass.
“You’re late,” Ginny said the moment I walked into the diner’s kitchen. She was helping Carla stir something on the stove.
“That’s because—”
Ginny continued before I could get a single word out about the diamonds, “We’ve been worried sick that something might be going on with your daddy. How is he?”
“He’s doing okay.” I suddenly felt a twinge of remorse for not visiting the hospital today. But when I’d called earlier Mama’s voice had told me as much as her words: that Daddy was resting well and seemed to be doing fine. Which had further set me on resolving Maudy Payne and her dogged determination to stick it to my family. I knew that tracking down Clem’s real killer was the best thing I could do for my daddy right now, even though I’d have rather been at his bedside. “Actually, I was working on the case. And have I got a story for you!” Both of them looked up, eager for more. “You remember John Whitaker?”
Carla giggled. “Does she remember him? She talks about him all the time.”
“I do not!” Ginny’s cheeks flushed. “Well, not like that, anyway. I’m just curious about the man, that’s all. He . . .” She briefly stopped stirring and looked my way. “He’s just so mysterious, don’t y’all think?”
“Not anymore, he’s not,” I said with a slight grin, leaving them hanging while I checked on a large container of frozen peaches that Ginny had already set out to thaw. They were just about ready. I started assembling the other ingredients for peach preserves, including ginger root. Just a pinch of ginger added so much to the flavor of the jam.
“What do you mean?” Ginny anxiously demanded.
“His real name is Felix Ganassi. And—”
“Felix Ganassi?” Ginny blurted. “That doesn’t sound right! He doesn’t even look like a Felix.” She leaned over and squinted at a thermometer clipped to the top portion of a large double boiler and looked over at Carla. “I think this chocolate is ready to pour.” Carla eagerly slid a lined cookie sheet her way. I stopped what I was doing and joined them at the counter. Oh, the lure of chocolate!
With mitted hands, Ginny tipped the bowl and poured the dark, smooth liquid onto the tray. A sweet chocolate aroma filled the room. “I think this is one of the best ideas y’all have had yet,” Ginny said, reaching for a spoon. She scraped it along the side of the bowl, lifting it to her lips and blowing over it lightly before taking a taste. Carla did the same thing. I shrugged and did the same, deciding my story could wait for a second.
For a second, no one spoke. We were too busy rolling our tongues and moaning. “Good, really good,” Ginny said.
“Excellent,” I added, reaching for another spoonful. It was so smooth, with undertones of just enough sweetness to not overpower the depth of the rich chocolate taste.
“It’s okay,” Carla said. “But it needs something. Something to make it extraordinary. Something that makes it stand out from the regular stuff you can buy at the grocery store.” She started running a knife over the poured chocolate, smoothing it to the edges of the pan. “At least it looks like it’ll firm up okay.”
Ginny caught my eye and smiled, both of us delighted to see both Carla’s enthusiasm and her thoughtful analysis. “Keep working at it,” Ginny said. “You’ll get it.” She turned to me. “So what’s this big story on John?”
“Felix, you mean. Felix Ganassi. He’s from Detroit, actually.”
Ginny moved over to my counter and began grating the ginger root. “Detroit? That’s not where I pictured him living.”
“Where’d you think he was from?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Guess I’d imagined he was from New York City.”
Carla sniggered.
“Well, hate to break it to you, my friend, but he is definitely from Detroit. And there’s more.” While we continued to chop and grate, measure and mix, I told them everything I’d learned about Felix Ganassi, rounding off the story with the diamonds we’d found at Sunny Side Up.
“Diamonds!” Ginny exclaimed. Carla was all ears, too.
“Yup. About two million dollars’ worth.”
Carla let out a whistle. “Whoa. And they were hidden in that armoire all this time?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Felix has been looking for them this whole time. Now it seems he’s disappeared. Must’ve figured we were onto him.”
Ginny shook her head. “I sure as heck misjudged that guy.”
“Don’t feel bad. We all did.” While we waited for the peach liquid to boil, I rummaged around in the fridge for some leftovers to heat up. My eyes lit on a container of Sam’s chili. “Mind if I have some of this?” I asked Ginny. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and was half-starved.
“Help yourself.” She was placing jars in the sterilizer while Carla took the dirty dishes back to the sink. “Do you suppose Ganassi is responsible for Clem’s murder, then? I always did think it was an outsider. Nobody from ’round here could be that evil.”
Really? I thought to myself. Had she forgotten about the last two murders, both committed by local people? I started to remind her of the fact when there was a knock at the back door. Carla left the water running and went to answer it. “Hi, Ray. I mean, Mr. Harper. Come on in.”
“Hey, Ray,” Ginny said. “What brings you here?”
“I asked him to come by,” I said casting a glance toward Carla. “Do you think you can handle the rest of this?” I asked her. “There’s a few things I need to talk over with my brother and Mrs. Wiggins.” Ginny’s eyebrows crept up her forehead, but she didn’t ask any questions.
Carla, on the other hand, suddenly became nervous, a dish in her jittery hands slipping and splashing back into the sink. She glanced my way. “Does this have something to do with Lucas?”
“Why do you ask?” I wanted to know.
“Because I saw him earlier. He was all worked up about something. It looked like he was going to leave town. Is he . . . is he in trouble?”
I sighed. “I know Lucas is your friend, Carla. And I’m going to do everything I can to help him. Okay?”
She looked at Ray and nodded, probably recalling how much he’d helped her last year when she found herself in a heap of trouble
with the law. I only hoped this time around things would turn out as well for Lucas.
“What’s this about Lucas?” Ginny asked, before we’d even settled at one of the diner’s tables.
I explained everything to her, including my talk with Lucas outside the Tasty Freeze. “I know he’s been stealing scrap metal. He admitted it. And I think he knows something about Clem’s murder. I was hoping he’d show up here tonight.” I looked to Ray. “I sort of told him that if he came clean and told us everything he knew about the murder, you’d be willing to help him.”
Ray’s expression tightened. “Where is he? I can only help him if he’s willing to help himself.”
“Please do what you can,” Ginny pleaded. “I’ve known Lucas since he was just a baby. He’s a good kid, Ray. Really he is. He’s just mixed-up, that’s all. You know how kids get.”
Ray blew out his breath. “I’ll do what I can for him. Y’all know that.” He shifted in his seat. “But if he’s not going to bother showing up tonight, then I’m going to head back up to the hospital and see about Daddy.”
“Hold on,” I said, touching his arm. “I’ve been thinking. Lucas may not want to talk, but there might still be something we can do to bring Clem’s murderer to justice.”
Ray leaned forward. “I’m listening.”
“Me, too,” Ginny echoed.
“You know those rumors around town about me having some sort of proof about Clem’s murder?”
They nodded in unison. Ginny said, “The whole town’s been talking about it. I hear it ’bout every morning. People are chewin’ up that rumor faster than Sam’s breakfast hash.”
“Good,” I said.
Ray squinted. “Good?”
I nodded. “Uh-huh. We’re going to use it to draw out Clem’s murderer.” I leaned forward and drew in my breath. “I’ve got a plan.”
* * *
Ray and I rehashed the entire plan the next morning over coffee and toast. Ray was on board to help in any way he could. Ginny, of course, was willing to help in any way she could, too. I figured, since everyone in town thought I had some sort of proof about Clem’s murder secreted away somewhere, it should be easy to lure the real killer into believing the same thing. Or maybe he or she already did believe the rumor. Because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that maybe I was wrong about whoever had ransacked our house. I’d assumed it was Ganassi searching for the diamonds. But now, looking back on it, I realized it could have been the real killer looking for that suspected proof that everyone was talking about. Which meant, in reality, that any one of the diner regulars could be our killer. Of course, I knew Jack Snyder was a regular—just one more strike against him.
War and Peach Page 20