Sequestered with the Murderers

by Dr. Sandra Tanner

  I got up off the bed and began pacing the room. I was becoming intrigued.

  “Vett, Duffy has been a model citizen, an excellent bus driver, and an all-around good person. The feedback cards from passengers give him high marks on all categories. Two years ago, he married his wife, Nancy. She seems to be a nice person and a couple of times has been on tours with him. I can’t say anything bad about him, but if there is something bad to know, I want to know it before the police do. If there is something bad about this, I want to put out a statement before the media gets a hold of it. I want to hire you to investigate Duffy’s murder. Will you do it?”

  I wanted to say “no” since Gam and I were going away this coming weekend to my favorite bed, breakfast and dinner lodging. But I was intrigued by the idea of looking into a murder that may be associated with a madam and a brothel.

  “Jackson, in this modern time, how . . .?”

  “Vett, I know what you are going to ask. I don’t know how Ms. Lacecap got away with operating a brothel for so long. If memory serves me right, she operated it for forty years or more. People overlooked or tolerated her business because she was a nice lady. I believed she did serve some time in prison during the 1960s.”

  “This gets more interesting by the moment. Uh, last night, no one heard a gunshot. Why do you think that is?” I walked back to the bed and sat down. I had asked this question unexpectedly and suddenly. I was trying to catch Jackson off guard to see if he was telling me everything he knew and was being truthful with me.

  “I don’t have an answer to that yet. The murderer could have used a silencer. I’ll let you know once I find out. Will you look into this?”

  He passed my little test. He made no sounds to indicate he was fidgety, and he didn’t hesitate to answer my question. He didn’t do any of the things I’ve learned to listen for that indicate deception. In fact, he was cool and calm as he had been at the beginning of our conversation.

  “One last question. How many times was Duffy shot?”

  “Vett, it was hard to tell. At least three, I’d say. Blood was everywhere on his left side. It was awful. It will all be in the medical examiner’s autopsy report.”

  “Jackson, yes, I’ll take the case, but I will not be able to work on it next weekend. My husband and I will be out of town Friday night through Monday of next weekend.”

  “That’s okay. Lemmonee has complete faith in you, and so do I. We are having another board meeting about this matter this coming Monday at 9:00 am in the office. I would love to have you join us. I know it will probably be about a two and a half to three-hour drive for you. If you are available, you could come up tomorrow night and spend the night. I’ll pay whatever you charge, and all expenses are on me.”

  “Jackson, let me think on it. I will call you tomorrow morning to let you know whether or not I’ll be there for the meeting. If I can’t make it, can you conference me into the meeting?”

  I wasn’t keen on the idea of driving to Attribute alone. Gam couldn’t take off to go with me. I immediately thought of my best friend, Dimma. If I decide to go, perhaps she will be available to ride with me.

  “Yes, I could do that. I just think it would be a good idea for you to meet the board members in person so that you get a good feel for who we are.”

  “I understand and appreciate that. I’ll call you tomorrow morning.”

  “Thanks, Vett. I am so glad you said yes to take the case. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Talk to you tomorrow, Jackson. Bye.”

  I hung up the phone, and immediately questions begin wandering through my mind. One stood out like a beacon: Was Duffy involved in the Lacecap Hydrangea Murders?

  CHAPTER 3

  I completely understood Jackson’s concern. He wanted to know if he had hired a murderer in Duffy. Though that’s not how he worded it, it was what he meant. My years of investigating had taught me that there are ulterior motives behind the most straightforward requests.

  While he was standing by the driver’s seat last night, my first impression of Jackson was inaccurate. I thought he was insensitive. Now I realize he was in shock: he had lost an employee to a gruesome murder. He once was a robust man. He was somewhat shrunken from a notable six feet four inches tall, I guessed. I could tell this by his stance and the signs of aging his body carried. His Brightness uniform—white shirt and khaki pants—hung on him, a great indicator that he had lost thirty to forty pounds. I guessed his age to be early to mid-seventies. He looked like a preacher, or a teacher, or some type of educator, someone in authority people respected and admired. His white hair was pulled back to the back of his neck. His brows and lashes were white, his eyes were blue, and his pale White skin was speckled with spidery, reddish blemishes. Though I had thought him insensitive last night, I was impressed by his words to the passengers, the just the facts attitude, and the authoritativeness of his voice.

  Now, I wanted to know whether Duffy had lied to Jackson and if the company was at risk for his murder. I quickly showered and dressed, then walked to my kitchen for a cup of coffee. While the coffee was brewing, I sat down at the kitchen table and called Dimma. Dimma and I had been best friends since elementary school. We were the same height, five feet six inches, had the same caramel skin coloring and had similar small facial features. People thought we were related, but we were not. Dimma owned a successful real estate company that she started soon after we graduated from college.

  “Hello, Vett. How are you this morning?” Dimma answered. I could hear sleep in her voice.

  “I’m good. Still tired. Sorry to wake you up, but I need to ask you something.”

  “No problem. Give me a minute to get out of bed. I need to be up anyway. I have a 1:00 pm appointment in the office today.” I could hear her moving around and the sound of her walking.

  “I’m back.”

  “Can’t Myra handle that appointment for you? You sound beat. We had a long, exasperating night last night.” Myra Dovely is a real estate agent who works for Dimma. Dimma’s business had grown so much in the last few years. So much so that she had to hire a real estate agent to help her.

  “No, this is a personal friend of Simon’s that I promised to take on.” Simon was Dimma’s husband.

  “I see. Well, before I ask my question, I’ve got some news. Jackson Stevens called me this morning and asked that I look into Duffy’s murder. I agreed to do it.”

  “What! Why would he do that?”

  It took fifteen minutes to relay my conversation with Jackson to Dimma. She asked questions along the way. When she was all out of questions, she said, “There is more to this murder than meets the eye, isn’t it, Vett?”

  I shrugged, though I know she couldn’t see me. “I’m beginning to think so. I’m intrigued by the Lacecap Hydrangea Murders. I’ve never been on a case where a madam was part of the case.”

  “It is hard for me to believe she got away with that business for so many years. Why did the police turn a blind eye to it?’

  “I don’t know, Dimma. But I will find out.”

  “Duffy was such a fun guy. The informational brochure given to us at the beginning of the tour said Duffy had driven for Brightness for six years and had won several driving awards. I felt good about his driving skills, but last night’s disparaging remarks caused me to wonder about his character. Was his outgoing and joking personality a cover for something more menacing?” Dimma said.

  “Yeah, he was an excellent driver and maneuvered that beautiful bus with skill. He drove us to our tour sites in both Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg without any incidents. I must say the trip was absolutely wonderful as Brightness had promised. For it to end so tragically is heartbreaking.”

  With a sigh, Dimma replied, “I agree with you.”

  “I know we just met him, but he seems to be a really nice guy. He was so funny, I mean, literally. Duffy made me laugh. I am
anxious to talk to Marjorie Brown and Rebbie Shields. Marjorie didn’t care who heard her disparaging remarks. They know something, and it doesn’t appear to be good. I’ll get it out of them. They may know more about the Lacecap Hydrangea Murders than Jackson. Are you available to ride with me tomorrow afternoon to Attribute? I’m planning on coming back home Monday afternoon.”

  “Oh, Vett, I would love to, but I can’t. I have a meeting Monday morning that I don’t want to miss. The mayor is holding a meeting regarding a mixed-use building project that the city is undertaking. I want to hear firsthand about the project. There may be some opportunities for my company in this project.”

  “I understand. That’s no problem. I’ll keep you on the list for my next adventure.”

  “Please do. You know I love helping you on your cases.”

  “Oh, I know you do. You know I’ll be calling you to walk through certain things with me as I always do. I’ll call you tomorrow once I get there. Talk to you later.”

  “Bye, Vett. Be careful.”

  I was still sitting at the kitchen table, going over in my head the murder scene when Gam appeared in the kitchen doorway with a bag of groceries in his arm.

  “Hey, Baby. Didn’t you hear me calling out to you?”

  “No, I didn’t. I’m sorry, Gam. I’m so absorbed in what happened last night.”

  After he put the bag of groceries on the counter, I got up and hugged him. Gam, Gammon Ellison, was the original lead investigator assigned to the sacks of human remains found on my great Aunt Hannah’s farm after she died in May of 2003. We were infatuated with each other from the start. His six-foot slender physique, brown skin, flat abs, well-groomed salt and pepper hair, and non-callused large hands drew me to him like a cyclone. He has worked for the Sheriff’s Office for twenty-six years, and we’ve been married for almost a year and a half. I kept my maiden name after we were married.

  He hugged me tightly, then said, “That murder up there on interstate 81 is the talk of the office. I stopped in for a bit after my workout. There is something so extremely unsettling when a murder happens like this.”

  “I agree with you. Duffy’s murder is so chilling because it was unexpected. Not that any murder is expected. We were all huddled beside the bus waiting for him to appear at any moment and open the bus door for us.”

  I poured a cup of coffee for Gam and one for me, then carried the steaming hot cups to the table. I sat back in my seat and looked at him. He sat in the chair across from me and asked, “What is it?”

  With him, there is no point in belaboring what I have to say. He has this uncanny ability to read me so clearly that it gets on my nerves at times. I know having this ability is part of what makes him an excellent detective. But it is still nerve-racking when he knows I have to tell him something before I tell him.

  Gam didn’t look fifty-one, but he would be next month. He sat there, his handsomeness causing my heart to fill with love for him. Calmly, he waited for me to speak.

  “Brightness Bus Tours has asked me to look into Duffy’s murder, and I agreed to do it,” I said finally.

  “What’s so compelling that Brightness wants you to investigate? Don’t they trust the police up there?”

  “Of course they do.” I then relayed my conversation with Jackson to him.

  “Well, there is no need for me to try to talk you out of it. Your stubbornness is well known to me,” he said while smiling at me. “I hope this case doesn’t turn out to be like Hollice and Mary’s case that you worked on last October where the murderer was in the family. Please be careful, Vett.”

  Now I was a little perplexed. On every case I had worked on since that case in October, Gam tried to talk me out of taking the case. Did he know something about Duffy’s case already that I did not? There was no need in barging him with the obvious questions about what he knew. He would not answer them anyway. He never discussed any of the cases he was working on or any police business he was told to keep under wrap.

  The October case had scared him because a hit had been put out on my Aunt Mary and her boyfriend, Hollice. They were both murdered. Gam thought that since I was working to solve who murdered them, a hit would be put on me, too.

  “I’ll be careful. I’ll drive up tomorrow afternoon. The countryside is so beautiful this time of year.”

  “Yeah, it is. As always, call me when you get there,” Gam said as he got up from the kitchen table and began putting away the items from the bag of groceries.

  “I will.”

  I picked up my cup of coffee, then walked into my home office, intending to call Aunt Clove to check on my restaurant. She was the head cook and perfectly capable of managing the restaurant in my absence. As Vett’s Place’s owner, I thought it showed good leadership skills to consistently demonstrate interest and concern for the business, whether I am there or not. I set the cup on my desk, and instead of picking up the phone, I turned on my computer. I keyed into my browser Lacecap Hydrangea Murders.

  I was engrossed in the first article when the phone rang.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Vett. This is Solardette. How are you this morning?”

  “Hey, Solardette. Tired is the word. What an ordeal we went through last night.” Solardette Wilkes is the president of our Purple Calla Lily Investment Group. We love being called the Purples.

  “Absolutely, it was. I’ve never been sequestered before in my life. I never knew I could sit in a seat for so long. And never want to do it again.”

  “I’m with you on that.”

  “I’m calling to see if you have heard any news on the murder this morning. Last night you were very helpful to Lemmonee. I figured if any information surfaced, she would let you know.”

  “Actually, Jackson called me this morning and asked me to investigate who murdered Duffy. I accepted.”

  “Well, well, great minds do think alike.” I could hear Solardette smiling.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I heard something last night on the bus that has me all bewildered, flustered, and unnerved. I’m calling to tell you about it, and I was going to ask you to look into the case. Since you’ve solved every case you’ve worked on, I know you can get to the bottom of this one.”

  “What is it that you heard?”

  “You know Jean and I were sitting toward the back of the bus. About twenty minutes after we left the rest area, Marjorie came back to talk to the two spry older ladies in the seats in front of us. Before she said anything, she scrutinized Jean and me. Jean was asleep, but I wasn’t. I was just resting my eyes. I pretended to be asleep when I saw her studying us.”

  “Why was she doing that?”

  “I think she wanted to be sure we were asleep before she started talking to the ladies in front of me. When she was satisfied Jean and I were asleep, she started whispering to the two ladies in front of me. I swear I heard her whisper, ‘Where is the gun now?’”

  “What! Are you sure about this?”

  “I am, Vett. I couldn’t sleep all night thinking about this. That’s why I am telling you. Should I call the police?”

  “No, not yet. It will be your word against Marjorie and those two ladies, and you could have heard wrong.”

  “Vett, I didn’t hear wrong. Busy-body Marjorie asked the ladies, ‘Where is the gun now?’”

  “Who were the two ladies?”

  “Carolyn and Gwen. You know, the two spry older Black ladies who were asking all those questions about our investment group. I don’t remember their last names, but I know you know who I am talking about.”

  I knew. Their last names were Broadbent and Sonnack, respectively. One of the things about being a detective is that I remember people’s full names and all sorts of information about them. Some useful, some not. I guessed their ages to be in the early seventies, even though they had a lot of energy, vigor, and high spir
its.

  “I know who you are talking about, Solardette. This information is very curious. Did you hear anything else?”

  “No, Vett. The rest of the whispering was too low. I didn’t think they knew each other. During the entire trip, I only saw them socializing together one time. In fact, now that I think about it, their behavior was like they didn’t know each other. They kept their distance from each other, except for that one time. Don’t you find it weird to be whispering to someone you didn’t socialize with but once during the entire tour?”

  “I don’t remember them socializing but once, either. It’s almost like a conscientious effort was made not to be seen together. Well, I’m going to hold this information under my hat until after I meet with Jackson and the board of directors on Monday morning. I’ll call you after the meeting. So for now, get some sleep and don’t worry about it. I will look into it and keep you abreast.”

  “Thanks, Vett. I knew I could count on you. I don’t know about getting some sleep. This murder and being sequestered in that dreadful weather will stay with all of us for some time to come. It’s good to know you are on the case. I’ll talk to you on Monday.”

  “Take care, Solardette. Bye for now.”

  What a weird turn of events. I didn’t get overly excited because, as with all my cases, the puzzle eventually comes together. The unique gift I have allows me to see and know things that others do not. This knowledge comes to me through revelations. And the revelations come direct from people or direct to me. Solardette had been used to reveal to me that the sequestering is directly related to the murder. The puzzle pieces were beginning to come before me. My investigative acuity was on fire and ready to start the hard work.

  I turned off my computer, then called Aunt Clove to provide her with details about my trip to Serenity and to get an update on my restaurant. We spoke for ten minutes. There were no problems concerning the restaurant as I knew there wouldn’t be in her most capable hands. After hanging up the phone, I quickly walked into the kitchen. I hadn’t eaten breakfast, and my stomach was making a big fuss about it.