by Cathy Tully
CHAPTER THREE
Cedar Later
Bitsy Long leaned over the hood of her SUV, a pair of binoculars in her hand. She appeared to be scanning the cedar trees that separated the school grounds from the library next door. Susannah glanced toward the police cars and crime scene tape. The police techs had descended on the playground while uniformed officers, including Officer Chaffin, who had been first on the scene, walked the tree line, probably looking for evidence. Chief Randy Laughton leaned against his patrol car. Next to him, Detective Varina Withers folded her arms and glared at Susannah. The detective had agreed to take her statement after Caden left with Jamal and was now waiting impatiently for her. Susannah tapped lightly on Bitsy’s shoulder.
“Sweet sugar!” Bitsy jumped and turned on Susannah, brandishing the binoculars with a shaking hand. “Don’t scare me like that when I’m scanning for zombies.”
Susannah bit her lip. “There are no zombies.”
“Don’t fib to me, I know that Mr. Gus was zombie-ized.” She shot a glance at Randy. “Even though the police deny it.”
“I’m not fibbing. He was just wearing Halloween makeup.”
“Hummph.” She leaned in and whispered, “Do you double-pinky-swear?”
Susannah suppressed an eye roll. She leaned in and offered up her pinky, which Bitsy grabbed with her orange-lacquered little finger.
“Now, get out of here before you scare the boys.”
Susannah glanced into the back seat. Jamal had his slender arm around Caden’s shoulder as they munched popcorn and stared at Bitsy’s phone. Susannah felt her stomach drop. So far she was a horrible failure at being an aunt. Less than an hour into her first full foray into aunt-hood, she had to abandon her nephew. Well, maybe not abandon. After all, Bitsy was an adult. Susannah said, “You’d better take them to your house. The kettle corn is going to run out soon, and then they’ll want to know what’s going on.”
Bitsy eyed the half-empty bag of kettle corn that lay across the boys’ legs. Her eyes lit up, emphasizing the smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. “I am getting a little peckish myself. That bag might not last much longer.”
Susannah held the door and nudged Bitsy into the driver’s seat. Despite the chill growing in the October air, she was beginning to sweat. “I’ll call you when I get home.”
Bitsy replied with a thumbs-up and left.
Susannah strode toward the police chief’s car, glancing at her Jeep, which now looked forlorn in the dark. A slight breeze blew, causing her skin to break into gooseflesh, yet the twenty-foot-tall cedar trees barely moved. Little wonder she hadn’t seen anything earlier in the evening. The lower boughs were so large, it would take gale-force winds to move them. Gus could have been behind them the whole time, and she never would have known.
The radio crackled to life, and Chief Laughton slid into his vehicle. Officer Chaffin, his canvas of the crime scene over, walked toward her. “Dr. Shine,” he began, his voice a tone lower than she remembered it. Then again, she had only met him briefly at Tina’s Halloween party. Could she actually recall what he sounded like? “Is there anything more you remember?” he asked.
Susannah shook her head. He had questioned her initially, but there was nothing more she could say. He looked worried, and Susannah didn’t blame him. A murder had been committed right under his nose. She was sure Detective Withers, who was giving the young officer a hard stare, would have something to say about it.
The detective came over and raised her eyebrow at the officer, who walked away. “Officer Chaffin tells me that that you found Mr. Arnold’s body.” The statement came out like an accusation.
“Actually, he found me.”
Detective Withers pulled a small notepad out of her pocket. “Explain.”
“I was walking to the school from my car, and I heard a noise. I didn’t see him at first. He must have come out of the trees.” Susannah gazed at the sandbox. What an undignified place to die.
The detective made a note. “What kind of noise did you hear?”
“Uh, I’m not sure. I was scrounging in my purse for my keys. And then I heard a scream. I didn’t hear a gunshot. I thought it was some kids horsing around.” Susannah didn’t want to admit that the noise had spooked her. “So at first I didn’t stop and look at him carefully. I thought it was a Halloween prank.”
The detective motioned to Susannah’s Jeep with her pen. “Why did you park all the way over there?”
“I was running late, and it was the last spot open.”
The detective, her eyes narrowing, wrote some more. When Susannah had first met her, she had thought that the detective’s eyes had a serpentine appearance, but she didn’t see that anymore. The detective looked up from her pad.
“We’ll be in touch.” The detective flipped her notepad closed and went to confer with Chief Laughton. After a few minutes, the detective returned. “I’ll contact you to take a formal statement.”
Susannah, preoccupied, drove the short way to Bitsy’s house. She retrieved Caden but politely declined Bitsy’s invitation to stay for dinner. As she returned home, she replayed the details in her mind. She had heard a noise and thought it came from the school. But it must have been Gus. She shivered as the Jeep jostled its way over the railroad tracks and Caden giggled. Turning her attention to him, she pushed her most recent brush with death to the back of her mind. An hour later, as Caden soaked in the tub, Susannah leaned her elbows on her kitchen counter and sighed. The pink-and-white demitasse cup she held had been given to her by her Nana and reminded her of home. She inhaled deeply. The aroma of espresso filled her senses and enlivened her brain. She drank the shot in one gulp. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she flopped down on the couch to send Angie a text. As Caden sang in the tub, she tapped a message, stopped, read what she’d written and erased it. She repeated the sequence twice more, and finally settled on: Call me, important.
As she was tucking Caden into bed, her phone rang. After listening to Caden tell his mother good night, Susannah took the phone into the other room and broke the news to Angie. She was surprised when she heard her sister sobbing. “Ange, are you okay?”
“I can’t believe it. I just saw him. How can he be dead?”
Susannah was at a loss for words. Did Angie always get so attached to Caden’s teachers so quickly? If Gus had not been a patient, she probably wouldn’t have even remembered his name.
“I gotta find a Kleenex,” Angie continued, snuffling. She honked into the phone. “Who would want to kill him? He was a grammar school principal.”
“I dunno,” Susannah mumbled. “The principal is your pal.”
“Madonna mia!” Angie yelled. “Are you insane, joking at a time like this?”
“No, I just meant—”
“I must have been crazy to move here. I lived my whole life in Brooklyn, the crime capital of the Western world, and no one’s grammar school principal ever got shot. How am I gonna tell Ma?”
Susannah blanched at the thought that her family in Brooklyn would find out about this.
“I gotta go, Suzie.” Angie was whispering now. “We’ll talk about this later.”
Susannah stared at the screen as it toned and went silent. She put the phone on vibrate and tossed it on the couch. Not the reaction she’d been expecting. She hadn’t realized that Angie had seen Gus when she picked up Caden from school. As Susannah gripped the TV remote, a muted buzz sounded from the cushion next to her. Probably Angie, calling to apologize.
Susannah reached for the phone, surprised to see the image of Bitsy. Though she just wanted to sink into the couch hugging a pillow, she took the call. She understood Bitsy’s need to dissect the events of the day, especially in light of the fact that Bitsy was now guardian to her nephew. They spoke for several minutes, Susannah changing the subject to tomorrow’s Business Association meeting as soon as she could. Bitsy filled Susannah in on her newest strategies for her presidential bid. At least the election in the morning was
something to look forward to. When the call was done, Susannah sighed and turned on the TV, settling in to wait for Angie.
She woke in the middle of the night with a kink in her neck. She glanced at the clock: 2:15 a.m. Why hadn’t Angie awakened her? Susannah picked herself up and tumbled onto her bed without even undressing.
CHAPTER FOUR
Growl-A-Ween
After dropping Caden off at school, Susannah pulled up outside Bitsy’s Queen Anne Victorian, which was decked out for Halloween. Strings of purple and orange fairy lights hung from the posts and wrapped around the rails of her porch. Bitsy sat on the edge of a red wooden swing that was a refreshing counterpoint to the white porch and railings. When she saw Susannah, she bolted off the swing and shot down the steps, a biscuit in hand. The swing pitched behind her.
“Thanks for carrying me to the meeting,” she said as she opened the Jeep’s door and hopped into the passenger seat. “What with all these zombies on the loose, I’d rather travel in pairs.”
“No problem.” Susannah bit her lip. Sometimes it was better to ignore Bitsy’s comments than to have to decide whether or not she was kidding. “I wouldn’t miss this vote for the world.”
Bitsy popped the remainder of the biscuit in her mouth as Susannah put the Jeep in gear. “Nervous?” asked Susannah.
“Excited is more like it,” Bitsy replied, chewing thoughtfully. “When I’m president, there’s gonna be big changes.”
“Like what?”
“Like, I’m gonna shake the straw out of the Peach Grove Business Association.” Bitsy stared out the window as they crossed the railroad tracks and sailed through downtown Peach Grove. She pointed to the green space across from her shop, Peachy Things, where a mass of scarecrows congregated. Every year, the PGBA invited local businesses to each build a scarecrow and place it on the city green. It gave an autumn flavor to the downtown shopping area. Bitsy had always enjoyed dressing her scarecrow. “See that, that’s the old PGBA. I’m gonna ring in the new PGBA.”
“How?”
“Oh, you’ll see.” Bitsy pointed at her with a long fingernail. “I don’t want to muddy my vision by putting it out into the world prematurely.”
They drove the rest of the way in silence. The meeting was held at the takeout restaurant of the outgoing president, Marcie Jones. Susannah found the last parking place in the strip of stores that included the Wing Shack. Exiting the Jeep, she pointed to a pickup truck with a rifle rack. “Whose truck is that?”
“Travis Keene, owner of America’s Finest Sporting Goods. He and Maggie have been dating a while now.” Bitsy opened the Wing Shack’s door, smiling at Maggie Hibbard, a new member whose beauty shop, Cutz & Curlz, had been open less than a year. “Hey, Miss Maggie, I see you finally got Travis to join.”
Marcie rushed over, frowning at the scuff marks Travis’s cowboy boots made on the floor. “We just opened the meeting. First order of business is the vote. Daniel just addressed the group.” Daniel Kim, owner of the Southside Insurance Agency, was Bitsy’s opponent. Marcie handed Susannah a slip of paper and turned to Bitsy. “You can say a few words if you’d like.”
Bitsy sauntered over to the counter. The Wing Shack was a takeout joint with a few small tables scattered throughout a tiled dining area. Today’s meeting had every chair filled. Bitsy waved at the room with the slip of paper flapping between her fingers. “Y’all know me. I’ve been runnin’ Peachy Things for over fifteen years. If you elect me, I’ll keep things going just like Marcie has, with maybe a little peachy pizazz.” She waved the ballot. “Let’s vote so we can go eat.”
There was a murmur of approval and rustle of paper. When all the votes were collected, Marcie hooked Susannah’s arm, “Dr. Shine is going to witness the counting of the ballots.” With that, Marcie pulled her into the kitchen and threw the ballots on the long stainless steel counter.
Susannah gazed around the room at the refrigerated cases and walk-in freezer. For years the PGBA had met at Anita Alvarez’s restaurant, the Cantina Caliente. That had all changed over the summer when Anita was murdered. Since then Marcie had taken on the duty of hosting the meetings, and not every memory Susannah had of this kitchen was pleasant. She turned her attention to Marcie, who had recently resigned as president—everyone assumed because of the turmoil caused by her husband, Billy. She had agreed to stay on to oversee the election, but when it was done, she would be gone. The competition for her position had been less than cutthroat, but Daniel had put up a valiant fight against Bitsy. Susannah peered at Marcie’s notepad. It looked like Bitsy was out in front.
Susannah smiled. Bitsy had a casual, even flaky style, but she was grounded in solid business practices, which she had learned not from her stint at the Savannah College of Art and Design but through her large family, who had several business owners among them. Uncle Jesse Long, who owned a construction company, was primary among Bitsy’s mentors. Susannah had a fondness for him, as he had helped her out of a jam when she was building her chiropractic office.
Marcie pushed a pile of folded rectangles of paper across the counter to Susannah. “Will you verify my count, please?”
Glancing at the hash marks Marcie had scratched on her notepad, Susannah reached for the pile of paper. She went through the ballots and then wrote her tallies under Marcie’s and initialed them. Marcie peered at Susannah, who suddenly realized that Marcie’s eyes were bloodshot and glassy. Was she going to cry? Before Susannah could say anything, Marcie said, “I wanted to let you know that I’m closing the Wing Shack and moving.”
Susannah gasped, “But why?”
Marcie gave her a wan smile. “You know why.” She sighed. “I can’t keep coming here every day, it’s too painful. I want to be closer to Hayle. With her school schedule, she rarely visits.”
“Oh,” Susannah managed.
“I want you to know that I don’t blame you.”
Open-mouthed, Susannah stared at Marcie, who held up a finger and shook her head slightly, as if to say: Don’t say anything. “Well then.” Marcie glanced into the dining room. “Let’s go.”
The women entered the dining room and Marcie faced the members.
“Before I announce the winner, I want to remind you that we still need volunteers for our annual Halloween event.” Marcie picked a clipboard up off the takeout counter and handed it to Susannah. With a tilt of her head, she effectively telegraphed the words what are you waiting for, pass this around. Susannah took the pen Marcie was pushing into her hand, scratched her name on the first line of the list, and handed it off to Maggie Hibbard, who signed her name and passed it on.
Maggie smiled and whispered to Susannah, “Is your nephew excited about the Halloween camp-out? My boys are over the moon.” She tilted her head at Travis Keene. “It’s our first camp-out as a couple. Though he’ll be with the leaders and I’ll be with the boys.”
“Caden can’t wait. I’ll be taking him. My sister has to work.”
“Wonderful—”
Marcie cleared her throat. “We will again be sponsoring the Trunk-or-Treat festivities at the Peach Grove Municipal Building.” Marcie continued, “And I’m sure our new president, Bitsy Long, will do us proud.”
There was a murmur of approval with light applause as Bitsy sashayed to the counter. Marcie slipped away and disappeared into the kitchen. Bitsy held up her hands. “Thank you to all who voted for me. And to all who didn’t…” She stuck her tongue out at Daniel Kim and then chortled. He grinned and waved back. “But seriously, I consider myself lucky to have this job.”
Someone from the group called out, “No speech, let’s eat.”
Bitsy waved at the group. “A man after my own heart.” After the laughter died down, Bitsy continued. “Just one order of business. I already ran this by the mayor, and she is on board one hundred percent.”
The room went quiet, and Marcie reappeared from the depths of the kitchen and stood next to the iced tea urn, a puzzled look on her face.
“Ladies and
gentlemen of the Peach Grove Business Association, we are the proud sponsors of Growl-A-Ween, our first annual canine costume contest.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Ladies’ Crime-Solving Club
Susannah entered through the rear door of Peach Grove Chiropractic and threw her purse on the table in the break area. Over the summer, when she had been under suspicion of murdering Anita Alvarez, this break area had hosted several meetings of her closest friends. Dubbed the Ladies’ Crime-Solving Club by Bitsy, today their early get together would be a celebration of Bitsy’s victory.
As she closed the door, Susannah watched Larraine Moore, her office manager, pull into the parking lot. Larraine exited her Mercury Grand Marquis, made her way to the passenger door, and helped Tina Cawthorn, now six months pregnant, out of the passenger seat. Tina handed Larraine a plate, wrapped in plastic wrap, and a four-pack of Starbucks coffee. The plate looked like it was piled high with homemade cookies. Larraine was on the welcoming committee at the Peach Grove Baptist Church and was always ready to ply newcomers with baked goods. Larraine entered first, with Rusty hot on her heels and making a figure eight around her legs.
Larraine’s smile faded. “Where’s Bitsy?”
“She’s—” A loud thud interrupted Susannah, and she sped down the main hall, calling over her shoulder, “At the front door.” Another thump resounded in the morning air, and Susannah snapped open the deadbolt and threw the door wide. Bitsy came in.
“It’s about time.” Bitsy stood with one hand on her hip.
“Excuse me, Your Worshipfulness.” Susannah rolled her eyes. “You could have parked in the back like everyone else.”
“And risk a supernatural incident? I think not. I’ll stick to your ghost-free lot, thank you.”
“Here she is,” Larraine called when Bitsy approached. “Madam President.”