Terror on Tybee Island (A Trixie Montgomery Cozy Mystery Book 3) (11 page)

BOOK: Terror on Tybee Island (A Trixie Montgomery Cozy Mystery Book 3)
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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

W
alking toward us was an apparition – no, on second glance I realized the vision was real.
Lord, please beam me up and transport me anywhere else.
Dressed in a skimpy, hot pink, two-piece bathing suit, with matching flip-flops, mimicking the high-stepping gait of a beauty queen, Nana glided toward us. An invisible hand squeezed the breath out of me and now I, too, gasped for air. The only one who retained the ability to speak was Dee Dee.

“Nana, what have you been up to?” Dee Dee grabbed a beach towel and wrapped it around Nana’s shoulders. Nana pushed the covering away.

She placed a hand on her hip and twirled about. “How do I look?” We sputtered and coughed, unable to find words to describe her. “I found this cute bathing suit and knew hot pink would look great on me. And it’s half-price – icing on the cake. Just wait till George sees me. His eyes will pop out of his head.”

Well, she had that right. His eyes would probably never be the same. I knew mine wouldn’t. When I spoke, my words squeaked out.

“Nana. For heaven’s sake, go back to the dressing room. Dee Dee can help you while I talk to Jasmine.” My ears felt like they were on fire. Why, oh why, didn’t I leave Nana with Mama?

“Look, Missy.” This was Nana’s favorite name for me when she was upset. “Just because I have a little age on me doesn’t mean you have to treat me like a doddering old fool.” I wasn’t so sure about the “old fool” part.

Still in shock, I would be forever beholden to Dee Dee for taking control of the situation. “Come on, Nana. Let’s go see if we can find a cute sun dress to wear over your new suit.” She grabbed Nana’s arm and with the determination of an army general, she led Nana away.

I turned to Jasmine and her boss. My addled brain tried to come up with a plausible explanation for Nana’s behavior. Before I could utter intelligent words, Joe said he had work to do and hurried away.

“I’m sorry, Jasmine. My great-aunt displays quirky behavior at times. My mama thinks she has the beginning of dementia, but I think she does it on purpose. The truth is probably somewhere in-between.”

“Don’t worry. Every family has a colorful character – mine was my grandfather.” She reached over and straightened the pile of towels Dee Dee had toppled when she grabbed one to cover up Nana.

“Is there somewhere quiet we can talk?” I really just needed to sit down. The shock of seeing Nana half naked had left me weak in the knees.

“Sure. Let’s go to the break room.” I followed her through a maze of merchandise. We entered through a door labeled “Employees Only” where a lone table stood in the middle of the small room. A microwave sat on a counter, along with a coffee maker, and a variety of condiments. She pulled out a chair and sat down across from me. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Did you want to ask me some questions about the sea turtles?” She grabbed a Styrofoam cup and poured me a drink at a small sink. “You look a little pale.”

I put the image of Nana in the back of my mind and focused on the task at hand. I sipped the cool water, then pulled notebook and pen from my bag, beginning with some general questions concerning the habits of mother and baby terrapins. It seemed no time at all when Jasmine checked the time on the microwave.

“I only have a few minutes left before my break’s over.” I knew I had to ask the hard questions before she left.

“Edna, the housekeeper at Ocean View Inn, told us you ran against Grace for president of the local chapter of Save the Turtles.” Jasmine’s dark skin turned a shade lighter.

Her stare dared me to continue. I wondered if I gazed into the eyes of a murderer.

“She told us Grace used underhanded means to knock you out of the running and win over the board. The members heard you threaten Grace at one of the meetings.”

“Why are you bringing all this up? It doesn’t have anything to do with my concern for the sea turtles. It certainly doesn’t have any business in your magazine.”

“You’re right. I do write for
Georgia by the Way
and I am writing an article, but I’m also here as a friend to Laura. Actually, she’s my mama’s friend, but I’m interviewing some of the people Grace had run-ins with.”

Jasmine emitted an incredulous laugh. “You’ll be here a long time, because you’ll have to interview half the town.” She scooted back her chair.

“Please.” This wasn’t going as planned. “Jasmine, I want to help Laura. Detective Baker’s questioned her several times and she’s worried the detective’s placed her on the top of the suspect list.”

She slowly sat back down and leaned her arms on the table.

A faraway look clouded her eyes and her fists clenched into balls. “Just thinking about that lady makes my blood boil. I moved here to make a fresh start and help with the sea turtles. It would have been a win–win situation for me. Up until I threw my hat in the ring to run for president, my life had changed for the better.” She stopped for a minute, lost in her own thoughts. When she spoke, her voice possessed a hard edge.

“After that witch aired my past to the board and the members of the club, my life went from good to bad. The club didn’t throw me out, but the members treated me differently. Sure, they were civil, but nobody was knocking down my door to be best friends. If it weren’t for Joe giving me a chance, I don’t know if I would even have a job.”

She drew in a deep breath and looked me in the eye. “I’d like to say I’m sorry she’s dead. But I can’t.” The list of people who wouldn’t miss Grace continued to grow. I had one more question for Jasmine. I charged ahead like Sherman leading his march to the sea.

“Jasmine. Before you leave could you tell me where you were the night of Grace’s murder?”

“Even though it’s none of your business – I was in bed asleep. Now I’ve got to get back to work.” This time she slid her chair back, ending the discussion with finality and headed toward the door. She reached for the handle when a knock on the door stopped her hand mid-air.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

H
ello. Anybody in there?” Nana’s voice blasted through.

“Oh, no.” I looked around, scouting for an avenue of escape. There wasn’t one.

Jasmine opened the door. “We’re finished. Come on in.” She stepped back. Nana entered with Dee Dee on her heels. Jasmine made her escape past them.

“Thanks for your time.” I spoke to her back, but doubted she even heard me.

Nana wore the jogging suit she’d worn this morning. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was amazed how Dee Dee could tame Nana, and winked at her.
Thank you, my friend.

“Well, what did she confess, Trix?” Nana came over and stood beside me.

Dee Dee pulled out a chair. “How did it go?” Dee Dee thumbed toward the door.

“She didn’t confess, but Grace is definitely not on Jasmine’s ‘A’ list. She harbors a lot of anger toward Grace for bringing up her past to the club members. We need to keep her as a possible suspect.” My stomach produced a noise akin to a small volcano. Nana and Dee Dee laughed.

“Somebody’s hungry. Let’s go find some lunch,” Dee Dee jumped up.

“Best idea I’ve heard all day.” I grabbed Nana’s elbow and steered toward the exit. I didn’t want her sidetracked by shiny do-dads on the way out. She’d wreaked enough havoc on this trip for a lifetime. Little was I to know she wasn’t through.

We returned to the car without any major catastrophes. Dee Dee read the directions as we navigated down Jones Street. I turned on a side road to reach the Dari Delight where Mary Sue Bartlett worked. The block building needed some tender loving care. A few cars were scattered around the parking lot, but not as many as you’d expect at lunch time.

A bell hanging above the door tinkled to announce our arrival. Several voices hollered in unison for us to take a seat. We chose a table by the window. I grabbed the menus, stuck between the salt and pepper shakers and the napkin holder, and passed them out. I pulled a napkin from the container and wiped grease from the front of the plastic cover.

A middle-aged lady with a pencil stuck behind her ear, and dressed in black slacks and a once-white blouse, approached our table. “What can I get cha’?” She pulled a pencil from her ear and stuck her tongue to the lead.
Ugh.

“Hi. We’re looking for Mary Sue,” Dee Dee said.

“Well, y’all came to the right place. You’re lookin’ at her.” Drooped shoulders and hooded eyes surprised me to no end. Was this the same lady who’d hosted her own cooking show? “What can I do for ya?”

My stomach chose that moment to growl like a half- starved lion. “We’d like to order something to eat first.” Dee Dee and I ordered the burger basket with french fries and onion rings. Nana ordered two hot dogs all the way, french fries, and a side of slaw. Then she inquired about dessert. Dee Dee shot me a look that said, “Where is she going to put all that food?” I shrugged.

“Okay, ladies. I’ll put your order in and bring out your drinks.” She hurried off toward the kitchen.

We continued our discussion about Jasmine and her interview while we waited on our food. “Dee Dee, grab the list and let’s go over who we’ve talked to and who we have left to question.” She reached in her gigantean bag and magically pulled out the notebook. She laid it on the table between us.

“Here ya’ go. Two burger baskets and two dogs all the way.” Mary Sue plopped the plates down in front of us. She reached in her pocket, brought out a bottle of ketchup, and placed it on the table. Dried goo clung to the sides. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

I leaned my head in toward Nana and Dee Dee. “When she comes back for dessert we need some excuse to get her to sit down and talk with us.”

Dee Dee rubbed her chin. “Hmm. Let me think.”

“Just tell her the truth. Explain to her we’re trying to help Laura and does she have any information she can share with us. We don’t have to tell her more than that.” Nana pulled the tablet closer and studied the names.

“That might work, Nana. Now, let’s see who we’ve talked to so far. Dee Dee, call off a names.”

Dee Dee scooted the pad back her way. “First, we talked to Edna, Grace’s cook and housekeeper.” She took a bite of her hamburger. Ketchup oozed off the bun and plopped on her plate.

“It’s obvious no love was lost between those two. Edna felt trapped and murder might have seemed her only choice out of a terrible situation.” For the next few minutes, quiet surrounded the table while we ate. I surveyed the dining area and noticed only a few diners. Maybe Mary Sue wouldn’t be too busy to stop and talk.

Nana talked around a mouthful of hotdog. “Who’s next?”

Dee Dee glanced at the notebook. “Louise. She didn’t have a personal vendetta against Grace, but she’s good friends with Edna. Unknowingly, she corroborated everything Edna said.”

“I don’t get the feeling Louise had anything to do with it. I can’t say the same for Edna.” We snagged bites in between our discussion. Dee Dee pointed to her mouth then to mine. I swiped the area with my napkin. I’d wiped a blob of ketchup off my face.

“Don’t forget Ellie. Remember her reaction when you mentioned her meeting with John Porter on the beach? She was madder than a bull eyeing red.” Dee Dee took an onion ring, slipped it on her finger and twirled it around like a hula-hoop. Laughter floated around the table.

“That’s right. It’s mighty suspicious my question solicited such a reaction. Let’s keep her on the suspect list until we find out more about her.”

“Is that all?”

“What about Jasmine? You just talked to her.” Nana had made her hot dogs disappear quicker than a crab could burrow in the sand. She worked on digging the last little bit of slaw out of the container.

“Of course. Thanks, Nana. Jasmine needs to be on the list right beside Edna. Both of those ladies were wronged by Grace, and neither one of them showed any sorrow at her death.”

“We still have several others to interview: Grace’s husband Bert, the Daniels, Bubba Maxwell, the Sandersons and finally John Porter.” Mary Sue walked up to the table and Dee Dee shoved the notebook back in her bag.

“You ladies need any refills? How about dessert?” She stacked a few of the dirty dishes and gathered a handful to carry with her.

I looked at the girls. “Banana pudding all the way around?” They nodded their agreement.

“Coffee with that?” We nodded in unison. “Okie dokie. I’ll be right back.”

We chatted while she rounded up our desserts. I hoped when she returned I’d be able to convince her to sit with us for a while. Only one other booth held customers. Laden with pudding and coffee, she approached our table.

“Here, let me help.” I handed the bowls to Nana and Dee Dee and she served the coffee. I scooted over. “Please sit with us a minute.”

She surveyed her surroundings. “I probably shouldn’t, but I’ll sit for just a few minutes.” She eased down beside me and I heard a sigh. “Feels good to sit; my feet are killing me. Now, what are you ladies up to?”

Her blunt question startled me and I struggled to say something to lighten the mood.

“We want to know if you killed Grace Watkins.” Nana blurted before I could speak. “Where were you Monday night?”

BOOK: Terror on Tybee Island (A Trixie Montgomery Cozy Mystery Book 3)
4.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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