CHAPTER 4
On Sunday at 1:00 pm, I backed out of my driveway and drove toward US interstate 58 west, which would take me to interstate 77 north, and then interstate 81 south, on into Attribute. I had called Jackson at 9:00 am and estimated that I would be in Attribute between 4:00 pm and 4:30 pm. He said he would make a reservation for me at the Attribute Hotel, three blocks down the street from Brightness’s office.
I had told Aunt Clove yesterday afternoon that it was a possibility I would not be back into the restaurant until Tuesday or Wednesday. After speaking with Jackson, I called her and confirmed that I would be out of town on a new case and that I would call her once I knew for sure the date I would be back.
The traffic was light, but there seem to be more tractor-trailer trucks on the road than I remember. I had a case in Martinsville three years ago and don’t remember tractor-trailers passing me as frequently as they were today. Other than the truckers zooming by, it was a nice ride. The morning had begun with a light drizzling rain. It had stopped, and now the sky held a gray overcast that looked like a storm would present itself in due time. My Jeep thermometer registered sixty-one degrees, but the chill in the air felt more like fifty-one. The mist and fog of Friday night had dissipated, and I prayed it stayed that way for the duration of my trip.
I always feel an affinity for others traveling at odd hours as I do. To me, 1:00 pm on a Sunday is an odd hour to travel. At this time, families should be getting home from church and enjoying a nice lunch together. Some of the drivers that passed by me were eating fast food or sipping on a drink. I assumed there was no family Sunday afternoon meal waiting for these individuals. They were on their way to work or to somewhere that necessitated a meal before arriving.
I was in my own world reflecting on the information that had been revealed to me by Solardette when a car jetted past me with its music volume turned high. It then weaved in and out of traffic for a bit. The music jolted me. I weaved my Jeep slightly, but I didn’t lose control. The jolt did something else, too. It delivered one of those moments that I have from time to time where I see the joy in my life. I was happy, physically fit, and in good health. I was married to a man who had given me a lifetime of love in just a short amount of time, and he was the light of my life. I had inherited a large sum of money from my Great Aunt Hannah, which I aimed to make last for the rest of my life. I was doing the work that I loved and was about to embark on an intriguing case, a case that filled my imagination with all sorts of exciting possibilities. Life was good.
I reached into my box of CDs and pulled out one of my Christian CDs. I pushed the CD button on, and then inserted the CD into the player. It is Well with My Soul began playing. I sang along. I belted out the lyrics and sometimes hummed along with all the songs on the CD a few times over before reaching the hotel’s parking lot. I had only made one restroom stop the entire trip, another moment of joy. Driving onto the parking lot, I reached to turn off the CD player without looking and turned on the radio instead. The radio blasted on with, “How many times have you seen a surge of ebullience foreshadow bad news?” This stunned me.
“What! Is this aimed at me? Was my moments of joy a forewarning? I don’t need to hear this since I am three hours away from home and excited to work on a case I am totally looking forward to,” I shouted out. I’m not superstitious, but hearing comments like this can sometimes dampen the psyche of the best of us.
“Well, I am not going to let that ominous statement ruin my trip.” I hurriedly turned off the radio and put the CD back in its case.
Since April is considered offseason, not many cars were in the parking lot. I grabbed my overnight bag from the back seat, then quickly walked to the hotel entrance. The hotel outside looked like a renovated Holiday Inn. There were no other buildings close by. Across the street was the Attribute Country Diner. The doors to the hotel slid open as I got near them. The inside confirmed my assumption that this was a renovated Holiday Inn. I had stayed at enough Holiday Inns to make the connection.
“I’ll be right with you,” the young Black female check-in clerk said as I approached the registration counter. She was talking to someone on the phone, and the conversation appeared to be of a personal nature. Approximately ten seconds later, she hung up the phone.
“How can I help you,” she said, Southern charm and friendliness dripping from every word.
“I’m here to check-in. My name is Vett Brayborn.”
“I recognize your name. You’re the lady Louise from Brightness made a reservation for, right?” Her smile lit up her pretty twenty-something-year-old face.
“Yes, Brightness Bus Tours made the reservation for me.”
“I’m Stiles Bison. Everyone calls me Sty. We are so happy to have you. Let me get your reservation all squared away.”
“By the look of the parking lot, this is a slow month for you,” I said, trying to build a connection with her. In my line of work, I’ve found that people on the front line are privy to loads of information, though not all are willing to share what they know.
“Yeah, April is normally a slow month, but it won’t be for long. We had a murder Friday night down the road a bit at a rest area near the Jefferson Springtop exit. Yesterday, the number of reservations tripled compared to this time last year. You’ll see a much different parking lot by tomorrow,” Sty enthusiastically stated, clearly proud of the increase in business.
“I heard a little something about that. So you think the increase is due to the murder?”
“Oh yeah! Some of these people said they were from a television station. So I know they are interested in who killed Duffy.”
It was not the time to tell her I was there to investigate the murder or that I was on the bus when the murder occurred. I didn’t want to lie to her by omission because I knew she could be a valuable ally. However, if I told her these things, she may let it slip to the media people staying at the hotel. Then I would be hounded by them and not be able to perform my job in the manner I prefer. So I decided to tread lightly in asking her questions.
“Did you know him?”
“Oh yeah.” Her brown eyes did a full scan of me, and I could see her eagerness in talking to me about Duffy. I was probably the first guest today to ask about him. “I know Nancy, too,” Sty offered freely.
“What really happened?” I asked. I felt a ting of transgression. I always treat everyone with respect and honesty, but now was not the time to tell Sty the truth. I had made up my mind to find a suitable time to tell her the truth before I went home. She was so eager to talk, and I didn’t want her to later feel like I had taken advantage of her.
“He was found in the maintenance room at the rest area shot to death. He worked for Brightness, you know. There was a busload of people waiting for him to return from the restroom, and he never did. Louise said you’re part of their board of director’s meeting tomorrow morning. They’ll tell you all about it. Are you a saleswoman?”
“Oh, heaven’s no. I’m doing some personal research work for the president.”
“For Jackson. I know Jackson. He is a real nice man.”
“Was Duffy a nice man, too?”
“Uh,” Sty said, then stood still searching for the right words. I looked directly into her face and saw that the answer to my question was no. “He’s a womanizer, uh, I mean was a womanizer. He was a cheapskate and a loudmouth. He showed up a few times at Cleve’s Bar and Grill, where my friends and I go on Friday and Saturday nights. I remember several times Duffy asking people to buy him drinks and becoming belligerent when they didn’t. He wasn’t the nicest man. Attribute is a small town, and everybody knows everybody. You know how that is. People talk.”
“Yeah, I do know how it is.”
“Ms. Brayborn, may I have a credit card and see your driver’s license. Nothing will be charged to your room, but the rule is to have the guest’s credit card on file. Your driver’s l
icense is your form of identification.”
“No problem, and call me Vett,” I said as I took the items from my wallet. As she took them from me, my gaze went to the front door as a woman walked in, pulling a suitcase behind her. I was hoping like mad that it wasn’t anyone from the Danville media. I knew some of them and had favorable interactions with them. I just didn’t want to interact with any of them now. As the woman walked closer, I could see she wasn’t anyone I knew.
“Vett, here are your credit card and ID. You are on the second floor, room 204. Here is your key. If you need a second key, just let me know. This document is for the dashboard in your car. Just put it on your dashboard when you are parked on the lot. It lets the guards know that you are a guest of the hotel. We don’t have a restaurant in the hotel, so I’m giving you two coupons to the Attribute Country Diner across the street. The food is excellent. One coupon is for 50% off a dinner meal, and the other is for 10% off a breakfast meal. I think that is about it. Is there anything else you need at this time?”
“Just one. Do you have a workout room?”
“We have two treadmills and several dumbbells in a room down the hall behind you to the left. We are planning on an expansion to a full workout room next summer. Can I help you with anything else?”
“I don’t think so. You have been very helpful. What hours do you work?” I said with a wide smile on my face. I was trying my best to show friendliness and how appreciative I was of her service.
“I work from 10:00 am to 6:00 pm Sunday through Thursday and sometimes on Saturdays when a part-time person needs to be off. But this can change at a moment’s notice.”
“Well, I look forward to seeing your smiling face tomorrow. Thank you for your help.”
“It is my pleasure. The elevators are down the hall behind you and to the right. Have a pleasant evening.”
After entering my room, I put my overnight bag on the luggage stand, surveyed the room, and then pulled backed the curtains. I stood there staring out the window. My conversation with Sty had put me on edge. Was Jackson so preoccupied with his company that he did not know how the community felt about Duffy, or perhaps he did know? Were Duffy’s excellent driving record, his amiable disposition around Jackson, and good feedback cards from customers the only reasons Jackson kept him as an employee? I began pacing the room in thought. After a few minutes of pacing, I decided to have dinner at the Attribute Country Diner across the street. After calling Gam and Dimma to let them know I had arrived, I took a long shower. I dressed in jeans and a white blouse, then sat on the edge of the bed.
The information Solardette gave me floated in my mind while I had been dressing. I knew Brightness has a no-gun policy; it was in all its literature and its web page. The Pigeon Forge/Gatlinburg tour was the Purples’ fifth trip with Brightness. We were never asked to show identification, except for the one trip where we flew back home. The tour guide followed the same protocol as was done on our previous land trips once the bus was loaded with passengers: she called out names and put a check-mark beside the passenger names on her manifest. She never asked for identification. None of us had ever been searched, nor had any of our bags and luggage been searched by Brightness. What Solardette had heard (if there was a gun onboard) proved that a no-gun policy isn’t enough to stop someone from coming onto the bus with a gun. Anyone determined to get a gun onboard ground transportation, at least with Brightness, faces no security checks. That was disturbing. I never thought about security checks before because all our trips with Brightness had been excellent and ended as expected.
I had told Solardette I would call her on Monday, but I had questions for her that couldn’t wait. I grabbed my bag off the dresser, pulled out my phone, and quickly dialed her number.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Solardette. This is Vett.”
“Hi, Vett.”
“I’m in Attribute at the hotel. I know I said I would call you on Monday, but I have two questions for you that can’t wait.”
“What is it?”
“Was Marjorie the only person whispering to Carolyn and Gwen?”
“Yes, Vett. No one else was standing near them. Marjorie was leaning into them.”
I stood and began pacing the room. “And you’re absolutely sure the people sitting across from where Marjorie was standing and the people in front of Carolyn and Gwen were not in on the whispering.”
“Oh no, Vett. It was just the three of them. I am absolutely sure about that. The whispering didn’t go on for long. Maybe two minutes or so is how long it lasted. Then Marjorie went back to her seat.”
“Thanks, Solardette. I don’t know where all this is leading me yet, but I will keep you posted. You have a good evening.”
“I’ve known you long enough to know how your gift works. You were told to call me and ask these questions, and you did. Everything will all come together like it always does. Take care, and I’ll talk to you soon.”
After the call with Solardette, I grabbed the parking pass and the dinner coupon from my packet of information, grabbed my bag, and left the room. It was now 7:00 pm. The person at the registration desk was a man. I wanted to ask him questions about Duffy’s murder. There was one person at the counter and one person in line. While waiting, I walked over to the brochure rack, and I scanned over the brochures. One particular held my interest. I began reading information on the Oakmoor Bed and Breakfast, which was located in Attribute. I had fallen in love with Bed and Breakfast lodgings after staying at one in Charlottesville years ago. I was so engrossed in the information that when I did look up, two more people were in line. I decided to go eat dinner and talk to the man at the registration desk when I returned. I first put the parking pass on my Jeep dashboard, and then I walked across the street to the diner.
The outside of the Attribute Country Diner looked somewhat like an Applebee’s. It had a giant white sign on top of the building with its name printed in green. There were light bulbs around the sign. The sign was so big I guessed it could be seen for miles. To the right of the giant sign was another equally giant sign that flashed on and off the words “Open 24 Hours.”
I walked into a room with a hostess stand five steps to the left of the door. The sign beside the stand read, “Hostess Will Seat You.” A long sit-down counter was directly in front of the door, approximately fifteen steps away. Booths and a few tables were on both sides of the sit-down counter. The layout was completely different from my restaurant and reminded me of the Pancakes & Pancakes layout in Danville.
The room was buzzing with people talking and music playing. The food smell in the air was enticing. I read the menu hanging behind the hostess stand as I waited for someone to seat me. The menu’s sandwich section advertised American cuisines such as hamburgers, cheeseburgers, french fries, grilled cheese, and other simple and quickly prepared sandwiches. I read the menu’s dinner section and saw that roast beef was the Sunday night special with a free slice of pie. I had made up my mind to order the roast beef just as the hostess walked my way.
“Good evening. Will there only be one in your party?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to eat at the counter or a table? I’m afraid all the booths are taken at the moment.”
“The counter will be just fine.” I didn’t want to be conspicuously sitting at a table all alone. I wanted to mix in and not be noticed while asking questions. After I sat down at the counter and the hostess placed a menu on the counter before me, a handsome male waiter placed a glass of water and a napkin in front of me.
“My name is Trussel. I’ll be your waiter tonight. I’ll give you a few minutes to look at the menu.”
“No need. I’ll have the roast beef special and a glass of iced tea.”
“I love a woman who knows what she wants,” Trussel said flirtatiously. “I’ll be right back with your tea.”
As soon as Trussel walked away,
four people walked to the counter and sat in the last four empty seats. That told me that my plan of asking him questions about Duffy was not going to work. He would to be too busy waiting on customers to spend any suitable amount of time answering my questions. The two separate couples sitting on both sides of me were cordial and said hello. But that’s all they said. Neither couple seemed approachable, so I didn’t even try.
I ate my delicious roast beef dinner and apple pie in silence. I left the diner at 7:55 pm. No one was at the hotel registration desk when I walked in. I felt a little crushed at not getting any information on Duffy from the diner. I didn’t have the energy to walk to the desk and ring the bell on the counter. I went to my room and spent an hour talking to Gam before going to bed.
CHAPTER 5
On Monday morning, I arrived at Brightness Bus Tours at 8:50 am. I parked up front close to the building, then stared at the large Greek Revival three-story house that stood grandly in the middle of trees surrounding it in the back and both sides. The house was white with eight tall columns on the front of it and two gable windows sitting side by side on the roof. A brick walkway and steps lead to the double wrap around porch. The house was beautiful.
I opened the door and walked in. A doorbell rang as I entered the foyer—a decorated foyer like a travel agency with large pictures of travel destinations on the wall. In front of me was a long hallway. To the right was an open door that appeared to be someone’s neat and tidy office, and to the left was an office with a White woman sitting at a desk who smiled at me as I peered into the room.
“You must be Vett Brayborn.”
“Yes, I am, and you must be Louise,” I said, looking at the nameplate on her desk that said Louise Bellville, Receptionist, and recalling that Sty had said Louise made my hotel reservation. In her early-to-mid-sixties, she had large blue eyes, brown hair, small facial features, and a very pretty smile.
Sequestered with the Murderers Page 4