Bed & Breakfast Bedlam (A Logan Dickerson Cozy Mystery Book 1) (3 page)

Chapter Six

Thursday
Around Suppertime, BGD

A bell, fitted to the top of the double
oak doors, tinkled as I came in. I walked into a large foyer, its walls painted
a rich cranberry ended at glossy, polished wood floors where a large round
plush, patterned rug sat in its center. There was an oak staircase, and to the
left of it an ornately carved wooden counter that blocked the entrance to a
hallway that led to the back of the house. Off to the side was a large dining
area that was filled with people. 

The smell of something hot and sweet
stopped me in my tracks.

What in the world is that?

Taking in the aroma, I turned toward the
dining room and saw that everyone in there was looking at me.

“Hi.” A woman wended her way around tables
and came to me with her hand stuck out. “I’m Renmar Colquett. Welcome to the
Maypop.” She had a big, genuine smile on her face.

“Hi.” I said. “I’m Logan. Logan Dickerson.
I wanted to get a room?”

“Oh that’s wonderful,” she said her eyes
beaming. “Well, come on, let’s get you checked in. She looked over her
shoulder, back into the dining area. “Brie, we have a guest.”

The person she called Brie came over and
clapped her palms together. “Oh my. How nice,” she said, her smile just as big
as Renmar’s.

“Her name’s Logan Dickerson,” Renmar said
to Brie, then to me, “This is my sister, Brie Pennywell,” Renmar pointed to
Brie, “and,” Renmar twisted her body from the waist to look around her.
“Mother,” she called out, and “Mother” came from the hallway that was behind
the counter, carrying a purse on her arm, and a wheaten Scottish terrier
following behind her.

“And this is our mother, Vivienne
Pennywell and her dog, Cat.” Renmar said. “But everyone calls her Miss Vivee.”
Renmar looked at her mother and the dog. “My mother that is. Not the dog.
Everybody calls my mother, Miss Vivee.” She placed her hand on her mother’s
shoulder and then turned back to the dining room.

“And that’s Hazel Cobb,” she said
pointing. “My oldest and dearest friend.”

Hazel was walking toward me when Renmar
started the introduction. The only black person I’d seen since I arrived, she
wrapped her arms around me. “I’m a hugger,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“And then everyone else,” Renmar said and swept
her arm out toward the dining room. “Well. Everyone that’s here today at least.
But if you stay long enough you’ll meet everyone because everybody from town
comes here at least once a week to eat.”

When she introduced me to “everyone” the
majority of them got up and came out into the foyer. They shook my hand, patted
me on my back, and introduced themselves, their wives, husbands, and children
to me. I’m sure I’d never remember who was who.

But man, wasn’t this just the friendliest
place?

Renmar, the apparent proprietor, reminded
me of a southern belle. Sophisticated, sleek, she looked to be in her
late-fifties. She had on a sleeveless sheath burgundy dress, burgundy two inch
heels that were made from Plexiglas or something transparent resembling glass. She
was classy. She had her brown hair cut into a stylish bob and her make-up made
her skin look like that of a porcelain doll.

Brie on the other hand looked motherly.
She wore her light brown hair in a French roll, and had a sprinkle of freckles that
ran across her nose. She was slightly overweight, wore a loosely-stitched
crocheted cardigan over her belted, cotton green dress and low heeled loafers.

“Mother” was old. Old like
ninety-odd-something old. But seemed spry. She walked without a cane, or
walker. She was slender and short – like five-foot nothing short. She had on a
thin, off-white coat with a big round collar. Her hair was long, mostly white, but
there were sparse strands of black mixed in. Her hair, braided in the back had
been brought over her shoulder to rest on her chest, loose wisps framed her
face. She eyed me from the time she came out for her introduction. I couldn’t
tell from her expression what she was thinking and, unlike everyone else, she
didn’t say a word to me.

“We don’t get many guests,” Renmar said
pulling a guest register from underneath the counter. “Ever since they banned
tourists from going to the Island no one comes to visit Yasamee anymore.”

“What ya doing down here in these parts.”
It was Brie that spoke.

“I’m an archaeologist,” I said, which made
everyone quiet down and look at me. “I’m here to work over on Stallings
Island.” It wasn’t a complete lie. That is if my mother came through for me. I
was going to act the part though, even if I had lost the trail of that stupid
FBI guy. I still had to do my penance.

“You have permission to dig on the
Island?” Renmar asked me but she was looking at the man who had wandered in
during the introductions. He had a pretty blonde woman on his arm, both puffed
on an e-cigarette and were very much into – it appeared – public displays of
affection.

“Yes. Well, sort of. Why?” I asked and let
me eyes dart from Renmar to the man. I hoped they didn’t know something I
didn’t know and I would be made out to be a liar once again.

“No reason,” she said and lowered her
eyes.

“Wait,” Brie said, her eyes seemed to
light up. “What’s your last name?”

“Dickerson.”

“And you’re an archaeologist?”

“Yes.”

“Oh it couldn’t be,” she clapped her hand
again and cocked her head.

She was making me nervous. Had she heard
about me and Track Rock Gap? I heard gossip travelled fast in small towns.

Although me being at Track Rock Gap wasn’t
exactly gossip. It was true.

“Are you related to the biblical
archaeologist, Justin Dickerson?” she asked.

“Yes, I am,” I said warily. I never knew
what people were going to say when they mentioned my mother. “She’s my mother.”

That made Brie scream.

“Oh my goodness,” she said. “Her mother
wrote a book.”

Oh. No.

“My mother and I  -”

But before I could stop her she blurted it
out.

“The book is proof that we all came from
Mars.”

I took in a deep breath.

Everyone got quiet, they seemed to be
holding their breath. The silence was nauseating.

“Brie!” Renmar said. “Don’t be
ridiculous.” Renmar looked at me apologetically. “Brie gets carried away
sometimes. I’m sure she’s got it all confused.”

“Yes,” I said and smiled.

There was a collective exhale in the room.

“Noooo.” Brie’s eyes got even bigger. “I
don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I’m right about this.”

Technically Brie was right. My mother had
wrote a book about what she discovered. Two books to be exact, and the first
one, the only one Brie could have read was written as fiction. But that’s
another story.

Fortunately no one was paying any
attention to her. Except the little old lady. Miss Vivee. I saw a smile creep
across her face right before she turned and walked back down the hallway with
her dog, Cat.

 “Rooms are thirty-nine dollars a night
and we serve breakfast and dessert here,” Renmar’s words got my attention. “For
your other meals, you can either go into the kitchen,” she pointed in the
direction with a tilt of her head, “and grab yourself something or go to
Jellybean Café up in the town square.”

“Yes,” I said. “I think I saw it coming
in.”

“Viola Rose will take good care of you,”
Renmar said. “She thinks that her husband, Gus is almost a good a cook as I
am.”

That elicited an uproar of laughter. I
felt myself smiling just because everyone around me was so happy.

“You want some dessert?” Brie asked. She
didn’t say anything else about my mother, but I could tell she wasn’t through
with me.

“Sure,” I said. Not letting her suspicions
(rather the truth) about my mother affect how this town and crowd had made me
feel.

“Well, come on then,” Renmar said and
ushered me into the dining room. “Brie, get her some pie. A great big piece of
pie.” She looked at me. “Do you drink coffee?”

“Yes.”

“And a cup of coffee, too,” she yelled
after Brie.

Brie came back with a slice of blueberry
pie, a fork and napkin, and a hot cup of black coffee. She sat it all in front
of me and smiled in anticipation.

“Enjoy.” Renmar said then turn around and
shooed everyone away. “Let her enjoy her pie.”

I smiled and as I cut into it with my
fork. Steam rose through the crisscrossed layers of the flaky crust and the rich,
royal blue of the berries over-stuffed inside oozed out.

I lifted the fork up to my mouth and let
my lips wrap around the big chunk that I’d cut off. I slid it into my mouth and
savored the explosion of sweet, gooey, goodness as my tongue turned it over.

Oh. My. Goodness. What could be better
than this?

Chapter Seven

Friday
Morning

I got up early the next morning. My mother
had got me an in, so I thought it best that I go over to the island and check
it out. I had to make good on all my lies and put the Track Rock Gap debacle
behind me.

As I came down the steps a waft of freshly
baked bread beckoned me to the kitchen. I peeked into the dining area and saw people
eating and talking at the many tables and Brie acting as server, smiling and chatting
at every table she passed.

There’s that one couple from last night, I
noted. Heads together, so in love. The guy Renmar eyed when I said I was going
to Stallings Island. I didn’t recognize any of the other people. But everyone seemed
to know one another. Meals around here seemed more like a small get together of
friends and family.

Wait
. I stopped to get a better look at
the couple from last night. I did recognize the man from the night before, he
was still puffing on an e-cigarette. But that wasn’t the same woman. I was sure
of it. He was with
another
woman.
Oh my
, I giggled.
Cheating
in public like that.
He’s gonna get himself shot.

I wandered into the huge chef’s kitchen.
Wall to wall bright white cabinets, aluminum appliances – a six burner gas stove
with a built-in griddle, and a bottom-freezer, side-by-side refrigerator met me.
A rust and black checkerboard cork floor, a large farmhouse sink, with a shiny
silver backsplash behind it and a moss, beige and rust colored rug that sat
below it, complimented the green moss colored walls. Renmar stood on the other
side of an oversized island with a butcher block top.

“What’s your story, morning glory?” Renmar
said glancing up at me. She was up to her elbows in flour.

“Pardon me?”

“You’re up early. Whatch’ya up to?”

“Oh. Yeah,” I said and smiled. “I’m an
early riser.” I sat down on a kitchen stool. “Thought I’d go over to Stallings
Island. Check it out. See what I’m getting myself into.”  I leaned in to see
what she was doing. “What’re you making?”

“Biscuits. And you’re just in time for
some hot ones.” She glanced over at the oven. “They’re almost ready.”

“Sounds good.” My mouth was starting to
water.

“Have you spoken to Oliver Gibbons?” she
asked as she floured her rolling pin.

“I don’t know who he is.”

“You know, the gentlemen that always has a
lady on his arm.” She looked up at me and winked.

“Oh. Yes.
I do know who he is.”

 
The cheater.
   

“I saw him out in the dining room before I
came in here to see what smelled so good.  Does he know anything about the
Island?”

“He knows
everything
about the
Island. He lives right by the shoal. Beautiful beach house.”

 “I think I saw the house yesterday when I
drove in.” I nodded remembering the gray cottage surrounded by sand, sea oats
and morning glories. “Does he know anything about the history of it?”

“Everyone here knows the history of the
Island,” she said. She pulled the tea towel off her shoulder and wiped her
hands. Reaching in the refrigerator, she grabbed a small ramekin with a handle.
She handed it to me with a spoon.

“What’s this?”

“A little fruit. Grapefruit, oranges,
blueberries and strawberries.”

“So I don’t know if I should ask Mr.
Gibbons.” I took a mouthful of the fruit. “I don’t really know him. I wouldn’t
want to impose.”

“It’s Oliver. Just call him Oliver. Nobody
around here is much on formalities. And he won’t mind a bit. In fact, I already
spoke to him about you. He’ll be happy to help you.”

“Mmmm. This is delicious.” I said chucking
in another juicy spoonful. “What’s in this?” I gave her a questioningly look.
“It isn’t just fruit juices?”

A half-smile crossed her lips. “No. It isn’t,”
she said proudly.

“What else you put in here?”

“Now. If I told ya that,” she wiped her
hands on her frilly pink apron. “I’d have to kill ya,” she said cocking her
head to the side with a smile that I wasn’t quite sure if it was genuine or not.

 She went over to the stainless steel
double oven. “Perfect,” she said as she pulled a rack of lightly browned topped
biscuits.

“Those look good.” I raked the last of the
fruit from the small bowl into my mouth. I wanted to stick my tongue in it and
lick it clean. But, I remembered my manners. “Are you serving those for
breakfast?” I nodded toward the biscuits.

“I sure am,” she said and saw me staring
at the biscuits. “Why don’t you go on out to the dining room and find yourself
a seat,” Renmar said and nodded with her head toward the front of the house.
“I’ll bring you out a couple of these and you can check out the menu and see what
else you want for breakfast.” She laid the rack of biscuits on the end of the
butcher block island.

“Here,” she said with her southern drawl.
“Take another cuppa’ fruit with you.” She pulled out a tray of the ramekins
from the side-by-side, sat them on the table and handed me one. “And don’t tell
nobody I gave you two.” She pointed a finger at me. “When folks ask for seconds
I tell them, ‘No.’ They’re so popular I have to ration them out.”

“I can see why,” I said coveting the one
she handed me.

“Now go on. Get!” She turned me around by
my shoulders and gave me a gentle push. “Brie’ll take your order,” she said. I
turned and smiled at her as she started brushing butter on the tops of the
biscuits. “And I’ll bring you some of these,” she called after me.

I held on tight to my cup of fruit and
found a table in the far corner of the room near the front of the house. I
looked over and saw Oliver Gibbons, cigarette hanging from his lips, right
where I had spotted him earlier.

Such a flirt.

Leaning in close, whispering to her, “Casanova”
Gibbons touched his woman companion tenderly as he spoke. He hovered over her
as if she was his one and only and he was madly in love with her. Yet, she
clearly was a different blonde than the one I saw him with the day before. The
one that he had treated the same way as he was now treating this woman.

I chuckled as I watched him. In such a
small town, how could he get away with what he was doing?

And why did Renmar talk to him about me? I
wonder what she could have said.

I couldn’t do any real work over at the
Island until my mother got back with me. I pulled out my phone to check to see
if I had missed any calls or texts from her. I didn’t want to get jammed up in a
bunch of lies with these people here like I had done with FBI guy. They were
such nice people.

Looking up from my phone, I saw Brie
taking an order at a table across the room. I waved her over and she held up a
finger. “Be right witc’ya, Honeybun,” she said and smiled. “You want me to
bring some coffee?”

I nodded. The two cups of fruit was
filling, but I figured I’d still order something to go with the biscuits that
Renmar was bringing out for me.

I looked back down at my phone. No missed
calls. No texts. I backed up a screen, figured I’d check the weather while I
waited for Brie. I tapped on Safari and typed in
www.weather.com
.
Lifting my eyes from the phone, I saw Brie go over and start to pick up a pot
of coffee from the warmer, but someone coming in the front door distracted her.

Nearly dropping the glass pot, she ran to
the door on the other side of the wall from where I sat. Once she went behind
the wall I couldn’t see her, but I could hear her clearly.

Everyone could hear her.

“Bay!” I heard her exclaim. “I can’t
believe ya’ here! Boy, com’ere. Give me a hug. Ain’t you a sight for sore
eyes?”

Then she appeared from behind the wall
back in the doorway pulling someone behind her. She called toward the kitchen.
“Renmar!” she yelled. “Come here right now! You ain’t gone believe who’s here.”
And then
he
walked into my line of sight.

I dropped my phone into my ramekin filled
with fruit.

Oh crap!

I slid down in my seat. I wanted to crawl
under the table.

It was the FBI guy from Itza.

Had he followed me here?

Was he here to arrest me?

Brie sure seemed to know him. But it
seemed that everyone around here knew everyone else so that might not mean too
much.

“Bay!” This time it was Renmar who
screamed his name. She ran out from the back and practically threw herself
against him and wrapped him in a bear hug.

“Hi, Ma,” he said.

She’s his mother? Jesus!

“My baby,” Renmar pushed away from him and
gave him a once over, then she grabbed him and hugged him tight. Again. Over
her shoulder she must’ve spotted Miss Vivee. “Mother,” she said breaking her
hold on FBI guy. “Look what the cat drug in!”

“Grandmother,” Bay said turning to Miss
Vivee just as she came into my sight. “Look at you. You look younger every time
I see you.”

She put her arm out to him, a big grin on
her face. “There’s my baby.”

And then everyone in the dining room got
up to see him. Smiling. Kissing him. Shaking his hand. It was like a movie star
had just graced their presence.

“Bay Colquett.” Loverboy Oliver Gibbons
joined the chorus. “It’s good to see you,” he said shaking his hand

Not for me. I had hoped to never see this
man again.

I dug in my satchel and pulled out the business
card he’d given me.

Bay Colquett.

Sure enough that’s what was written on the
front of it. He never told me his name. Just announced “FBI” and pushed his
stupid badge in my face. And when he was finished interrogating me, he gave me
the card and instead of looking at it, I just shoved it down in my purse.

I should have read it.

Because if I had, as soon as Renmar told
me her last name, whether I thought they were related or not, I would have
turned and bolted for the door. Down the steps two at a time.

I took my phone out of the fruit bowl and
dried it best I could and wrapped it in one of the cloth napkins.

I had to get out without him seeing me.

I put my knapsack over my head and
adjusted it on my shoulder. I slid out of the chair and looked over to the door
that led to the kitchen. Only about twenty-five feet . . . If I could just get
across the dining room without too much noise . . . I just might make it through
the kitchen and out the back door without him seeing me.

I crept across the room, berating myself
for sitting so far to the front of it. I kept a watchful eye on the crowd
surrounding the FBI guy.

That’s right everyone, keep him occupied.

Only a few more steps, I turned my head
and looked at the door. Just a couple -

“Dr. Dickerson.”

I knew that voice.

Crap.

I turned and looked out to the foyer where
everyone was now looking at me.

And there he was with that stupid smirk.

“I thought that was your car outside,” he
said. “I see you made it. Get much excavating done yet?”

I should have not worried about covering
up my lies and gone home to my mother.