“I’m not sure,” Mom said. “Mamie was impulsive, and she sure is trying to set me up for some reason.”
I thought for a moment. “What about Mr. Austin? What does Austin have to gain with Sebastian out of the picture? Or Sam, the guy from Brasher Construction?”
“Exactly,” Mom said. “We need to find out who benefited from Sebastian’s death. I certainly didn’t. I lost a friend.”
Before we could put our heads together, the doorbell rang again. This time it wasn’t Tyler.
Chapter Five
Mom opened the door to a detective from the Copper Springs Police Department.
He flashed his badge and pushed right into the room. “I’m Detective Chandler. I’d like to ask a few questions about Sebastian Oglethorpe, Mrs. Rutherford.”
“Miss,” Mom said. “I’m not married.”
“Can we talk—alone?” He glanced at me.
“I have photos to upload.” I went into the kitchen and stayed within eyesight and hearing range. Mom tended to not take things seriously. If her conversation with the detective went off track, I’d step in before she did something crazy—like incriminate herself. I knew she hadn’t killed Sebastian, but she needed to be careful with what she said.
Mom dropped onto the sofa and pulled her feet beneath her. “Make yourself comfortable.”
The detective didn’t waste any time. He pulled a recording device from his pocket and placed it on the coffee table. “Can you state your full name, please?”
“Grace Louise Rutherford,” she said.
“When was the last time you saw Mr. Oglethorpe?” Detective Chandler opened a notebook and flipped through the pages.
“Earlier today. At his daughter’s rehearsal dinner. He hired me to tend bar.”
“What was your relationship with the deceased?”
I could tell Mom was fighting back emotions. She and Mr. Oglethorpe had been a lot of things to each other over the years.
“We were friends,” she said.
Chandler coughed. “Were you having an affair?”
Mom glanced at me, and I nodded, urging her to answer his question.
“Absolutely not. We’ve been good friends forever.”
“Let me rephrase my question.” Chandler cleared his throat. “Have you now or in the past had an affair with Sebastian Oglethorpe?”
“It was a long time ago, before he was married. Since then we’ve remained friends and only friends,” Mom said.
The detective looked into the kitchen at me, tapping his notebook with a pen. Then redirected his gaze to Mom. “Do you have a child with Oglethorpe?”
I groaned, hoping Mom could get through this without crying.
Mom nodded.
“You’ll have to answer verbally for the recording,” Chandler said.
Mom swiped her eyes, and her whole body began to quake. “He was stillborn. I was eighteen.”
I bit back tears. Mom had told me about the baby a long time ago. She had always been truthful about her past. Living in a small town, she said you never knew when your past would jump up and bite you in the butt. Hers had on numerous occasions.
I slammed the lid of my laptop and stomped into the living room. “I think you’re finished here, detective.”
“Actually, I have a few more questions.” He leaned back in the chair, making no effort to wrap things up. “Now, go on.”
I sat down beside my mother. “You okay to do this?”
“Yes, honey.” She took my hand in hers. “Detective, I had the baby when I was a kid myself. We made our peace with his loss. Sebastian eventually married Mamie. And I moved on. We moved on. In separate directions.” She rubbed her eyes. “And we have never been tempted to take up where we left off.”
“You friends with Mrs. Oglethorpe, too?” he asked.
“Friends would be stretching it. Like I said we have a history, and it’s not always been amicable, but we’ve moved beyond the squabbling we did as teenagers. We tolerate one another.”
Chandler leaned forward and steepled his hands. “Why were you at the lake with Mr. Oglethorpe?”
Mom drew in a breath. “He needed my advice?”
“About?” Detective Chandler asked.
“He’d had an offer to buy his construction firm. He wanted my opinion,” Mom said. “And his daughter was deceiving her fiancé about her pregnancy. Sebastian intended to tell the fiancé the truth that Olivia was not pregnant.”
“Well, that’s a twist I hadn’t heard,” he said. “And he confided all this to you as a friend?”
“Yes.”
Chandler referred to his notebook. “You were the last person to see him alive.”
“No sir. When I left he was very much alive. A little drunk, but alive. Mamie came down to the lake in a snit and accused us of having an affair. Rather than argue, I left,” Mom said.
“That’s not the way she tells it. She indicated her husband was trying to break it off with you, and you were—”
“I know what she’s telling everyone, and it simply didn’t happen that way,” Mom said. “Perhaps Nancy Jamison knew about the fake pregnancy. She threatened my daughter earlier today.”
The detective looked at me. “Care to explain?”
I told him about the encounter I’d had with Tyler’s mom. “She made it quite clear she had something on my mother and intended to use it, if we didn’t leave the dinner.”
He reached up and scratched his head. “Interesting. What did she have on you?” This time he directed his question to Mom.
“I have no idea.”
“Maybe she knew you were having an affair with Oglethorpe,” the detective mused.
“Unless you have additional questions, we’re through.” Mom walked over and opened the front door.
Detective Chandler pulled himself out of the chair. He handed his card to Mom and me. “Call me if you have any additional information.”
Chapter Six
Mom had breakfast on the table when I came into the kitchen the next morning.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Fine. Couldn’t be better. Why?”
I put my arms around her. “Not to sound judgmental or anything, your eggs look like rubber, the toast is burnt beyond recognition, and the bacon is practically still kicking.” I could tell she was seething about Mamie telling the detective that Sebastian was breaking off an affair, inferring that Mom had killed him as a result.
“Picky!” Mom sniffled, then leaned into me. “I can’t believe Mamie would stoop so low.”
“You know how she is. Even though she’s married to him, she’s always been jealous of your relationship. I think it made her feel like she wasn’t enough for him, so she used this as an opportunity to get even.”
Mom pulled away. “That witch. I’ll show her getting even.”
“Calm down. Losing your temper won’t help.”
“I think I’m justified in being angry. She accused me of murder. I can’t let her get away with that.”
I searched the junk drawer until I found a notepad. “We need to figure out who killed Sebastian. Let’s make a list of suspects and motives.” I put down Mom’s name.
She started to protest, and I held up a hand. “We have to get it all down. Everything. Then we can start narrowing it down. Next?”
“Obviously, Mamie. She’s his beneficiary,” Mom said. “And she’ll inherit his half of the construction firm.”
I told Mom I’d overheard Austin and Sam talking about Mr. Oglethorpe and his drinking.
Mom poked her finger in the air. “Put their names down, too. If I have to be on your stupid list, they need to be there.”
I put both their names on the list. “I also heard Mr. Oglethorpe and Mr. Austin arguing about a woman, but I couldn’t figure out who. My money is on either Mamie or Olivia.”
“Makes sense,” Mom said. “Add Mamie to your list.”
I scribbled her name under Mr. Austin’s. “They all would benefit if somethi
ng happened to Sebastian. Who else?”
“Olivia obviously,” Mom said. “No telling what that brat is capable of.”
I shook my head. “She never left the room. At least I don’t think she did. The only time I’m not sure about was when I went to the bathroom, and I wasn’t gone that long. Besides, why would she kill her dad?”
“He was going to tell Tyler she wasn’t pregnant,” Mom said. “She wanted more than anything to marry Tyler. She’d never let anyone jeopardize that.”
“No, her mother wanted more than anything for Olivia to marry Tyler. Mrs. Jamison, too.” I reminded Mom about Tyler’s mom threatening me outside the bathroom.
“Tyler’s mom tried to bully me, and I told her to kiss off,” Mom said. “Did you tell Tyler?”
“He’s on his own with that. I don’t like it that Mrs. Jamison is running interference, but I’ve already blown the whistle on Olivia. I can’t throw his mom under the bus.”
“Tyler’s a grown man.”
“True,” I said.
“On the other hand, I have an idea where we might get some answers. The salon is always a good place to get the lowdown. I’m thinking I need a haircut.” Mom tugged at her ponytail. “Would I look good with a bob?”
“Eww, don’t get crazy. Besides, you can’t go. You’re the talk of the town now. You’ll just make everything worse. I’ll go, then afterward I’ll go over to the café. You know how gossip makes the rounds down there. You make some phone calls and see what you can find out about Mr. Austin or his buddy, Sam, from Atlanta.”
“Sounds like we have a plan,” Mom said.
I gave her a playful push. “Now, let me make you breakfast. Something edible.”
Chapter Seven
Claudine’s Cozy Curl sat on the corner of Elm and Main. The little parking area in back was full, so I parked across the street at the café. Whenever there was big gossip in town everyone needed a trim, eyebrow wax, or fresh coat of polish. Today did not disappoint.
When I walked in, all eyes turned on me. Of course, Mom was part of the intrigue, thanks to Mamie’s big mouth. Claudine had pulled out folding chairs to accommodate everyone who had piled in for a fresh dose of rumor du jour. Nothing phased me anymore. Mom had raised eyebrows my whole life. Being an unwed mother put her on the rumor fast track early on. The whole town had speculated, of course, that Mr. Oglethorpe was my father. Only me, Mr. Oglethorpe, and Mom knew the truth. He was not. Mamie also knew the truth, which she refused to believe.
Mom said my father was a sweet boy she met her freshman year of college. They had both had too much to drink and things happened. Neither of them wanted to get married, and he wasn’t ready for a family—emotionally or financially. They’d both agreed terminating the pregnancy was the best thing. In the end, Mom said she couldn’t go through with it. Instead, she dropped out, came back to Copper Springs, and raised me by herself.
“Hi, Claudine.” I sauntered over to the sign-in desk and penciled in my name for a trim.
There were three stylists, a manicurist, and Claudine who did a little bit of everything—but mostly waxing and nails. The retro décor looked spectacular. Aluminum Christmas trees decked out in pink flashing lights and shiny purple ornaments sat in every corner of the room. Mounds of lavishly wrapped gifts spilled out from beneath each tree. I happened to know the boxes were empty, but the effect was stunning, nonetheless.
Claudine blew out a breath and pulled out another chair. “Have a seat, Shelby. You’re gonna be here a while.”
I nodded and sat down between the elderly Miller sisters—known for their loose lips. Celeste and Carmen Miller were twins, Celeste being older by a few minutes. Neither had married, and they lived in a tiny apartment over the mortuary.
Celeste wasted no time. “Did Grace do it?”
I gasped. “Of course not. Don’t be silly.”
Carmen, having to prove she knew more than her sister, leaned across. “It was Mamie. She found out he was flat broke and killed him for his life insurance.”
“Are you speculating, or do you know something about his finances?” I asked.
Carmen had been a tax accountant until a few years ago when she’d finally retired.
“Pfft. Doesn’t take a genius to know the man lived beyond his means. The whole family did. Mamie could blow through cash like wind through a wheat field. Heard he was in trouble with the bank over his mortgage. He owed money to everybody in town. That wedding was his downfall. Rumor has it he borrowed a ton of money from one of those high interest places.” Carmen pulled a tissue from her sleeve and blew her nose. “I’m getting a cold, sister. We better get home. I need to have a cup of tea and take a rest.”
Celeste’s smile drooped. “We can’t leave. There’s too much going on.” She scanned the room letting her eyes land on one of the hairdressers who had just finished a client and was sweeping her station.
What she meant was she didn’t want to miss any gossip. The stylist, who was the object of Celeste’s gaze, had a big mouth and liked to show off her knowledge of the town. She was also married to the bartender at the local watering hole. Her information was legendary.
Carmen sneezed. “I have to go. I can’t wait around for another hour.”
“For goodness sake, let’s go then.” Celeste grabbed her purse and headed out the door, oblivious to poor Carmen struggling to get out of her chair.
I gave her my arm and helped her to her feet. “You take care of yourself.”
Elvira Newton took the seat Carmen had vacated. “Never seen the place this busy.”
I sat back down and got comfortable. “True. Lots going on, I suppose.”
“Did you hear about the wedding being called off,” Elvira whispered.
I shrugged. “Makes sense they’d postpone it, considering—”
“No,” she butted in. “Canceled as in Tyler broke it off.”
“Who’d you hear that from?”
Elvira reared back like I’d slapped her. “I’m not making this up.”
“What happened?” I didn’t doubt Tyler had called off the wedding, but how did the news get around so quickly?
“Mamie’s housekeeper told me,” Elvira said. “She was just in here getting a perm. Suppose you and Tyler will be getting back together. He never could keep his hands off you.”
“You can leave me out of this,” I said. She’d gotten personal. I didn’t mind rumors when they centered around someone else, but I wasn’t going to sit here and let her spread tales about me. Especially when I wouldn’t take Tyler back even if it was what my heart wanted. He’d hurt me when he chose Olivia, and no amount of begging would get me to take him back. Of that I was positive. Like mother, like daughter.
“Just stating facts,” Elvira said.
My taste for gossip had soured. Hopefully, I’d have better luck at the café. I decided I liked my hair just like it was. “Scratch my name off the list, Claudine. I have errands to do.” I slung my purse over my shoulder and left in a huff.
Chapter Eight
The café buzzed with chatter. Sam, the good-looking guy from Brasher Construction, sat in a booth at the back staring at his phone and nursing a cup of coffee. I stopped at the counter long enough to order a hot tea, then slid into the seat across from him.
He looked up, confusion showing on his face.
I reached my hand across the table. “Hi, I’m Shelby. We sat next to each other while the police were questioning everyone at the rehearsal dinner last night.”
His lip hiked, and I saw a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. When he took my hand in his, my heart lurched a little.
“I remember you. I’m Sam.” He made a show of extracting his hand from my grip.
I guess I’d held on a tad long.
I leaned back and tried to act relaxed, even though my stomach had tied itself in knots. “So, what brings you to town?”
“I’d think that’s pretty obvious,” he said, smiling a killer smile.
Not that
I thought he was the killer, but you never knew. I waited for him to explain, then realized what he meant. “Oh, duh! The wedding.” I laughed.
“Indeed.” He sipped his coffee, watching me over the rim of his cup.
“Then why are you still here?” Did I really just ask that? “The wedding has been postponed—indefinitely.” Probably canceled if Elvira knew what she was talking about.
“The police have some additional questions and asked me not to leave town. Why are you so interested?”
“Just curious how Mr. Oglethorpe’s death affects your business deal with his firm.” My knees started to knock together, threatening to disturb the table.
“Are you hyperventilating?” Sam chuckled.
“No, uh, I’m cold. It’s freezing in here.” I planted my feet on the ground in an effort to keep my knees still.
Sam reached behind him, pulled his coat from the back of the booth, and handed it to me. “See if this helps.”
“Thanks,” I said, pulling the jacket around my shoulders. Not that it would help what was wrong with me. “So, back to my question,” I said, digging deep for courage.
“Which was what?” A dimple emerged on his cheek.
“About how you will be affected by Mr. Oglethorpe’s death.” I tugged his jacket tighter, enjoying the woodsy, man scent.
“Not going to be a problem,” he said.
“Seriously?”
“The sale will go through as planned—once the police investigation is finished.” Sam narrowed his eyes. “How does this concern you?”
“Just curio—” I looked up to see Chase Austin standing next to our table.
“I see you’ve met Shelby,” Mr. Austin said to Sam.
“I have,” Sam said, motioning for the waitress.
Mr. Austin cleared his throat. “What do you want, Shelby?”
I handed Sam’s jacket back across the table. “Nothing. I was just being friendly.”
Sam accepted the jacket. “Actually, she was curious how our deal would be affected by Sebastian’s death. Which is something we need to talk about. Will you excuse us, Shelby?”
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