Текст книги "Death In Dahlonega"

Автор книги: Deborah Malone

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 9 страниц)

Chapter Three

Dee Dee and I looked at each other. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it in a death-grip. I managed a little squeeze in return.

“This is Deputy Sonny Ray.” The sheriff gestured toward a man so skinny that, if he turned sideways, he’d be hard to find; that joke about Frank Sinatra disappearing behind his microphone flashed into my mind. But, this wasn’t the time to think about jokes.

The handsome sheriff bore little resemblance to his deputy. Sonny Ray then smiled a ray of positive sunlight, sure to make someone confess to a crime they didn’t commit. His mama hit it square on when she named him Sonny.

Sheriff Wheeler escorted Dee Dee from the office to unknown parts, leaving me with his sidekick. A chill ran through my body. I hugged myself for warmth. “Is she in trouble?” I fast scrubbed my arms. “How long ‘til he brings her back?”

Deputy Ray rolled the office chair from behind the desk and took a seat.

“Whoa there Ms… Ms. Montgomery, right?”

“That’s right, but you can call me Trixie.”

“Trixie.” He sunbeam smiled again. “I think I’m the one who’s supposed to ask the questions.”

That hundred-watt smile didn’t fool me. I knew he was as serious as a riled up hornet’s nest.

“I’ll tell you what I can,” he offered. “Sheriff Wheeler will bring your friend back as soon as he finishes questioning her.” Deputy Ray adjusted his lanky frame and leaned back in the chair. He spaced out his words, long and deliberate. “Tell me what your business was at the museum and when you arrived.” He held a poised pen over a notebook, ready to write.

“I’m here for a work assignment,” I explained. “I work for Georgia by the Way, and I’m writing an article about Gold Rush Days.”

“Go on.” He wrote furiously in his notebook.

I wondered what he could be writing. I hadn’t even said that much yet. Clearing my throat, I continued. “Teresa—Ranger Duncan, gave me a tour of the museum and then I went outside and took more pictures.”

“Was Ms. Lamont with you during his time?” He stretched out his hand as if it had a cramp, his pen hovering above his pad.

“No, she was shopping. She came back around five.” I checked my watch. I couldn’t believe it was such a short time ago. “She came upstairs, and we were watching a movie on gold mining when she had to go to the ladies room. I told her there was one in the lobby.”

His face turned a healthy shade of pink, “So, she left to use the ladies room…”

“Yes,” I said. “She has to visit the bathroom more often than not.” I prattled on, a fistful of nerves discussing her overactive bladder, until I noticed he’d stopped writing and stared at me.

I got back to the point, quick.

“While she was gone I heard this terrible scream. I knew right away it was Dee Dee. I thought something awful had happened to her.” Pausing, I remembered we’d left my laptop and her shopping bags upstairs in the film room.

“What did you do when you heard her scream?” Deputy Ray leaned forward.

“I ran downstairs, of course.” I didn’t tell him I saw her standing there with the axe. I was sure he’d find out soon enough. A flashback of the scene popped into my head. I saw Dee Dee standing there with the lifeless body of John Tatum in the background, money strewn on the floor around him.

“Ma’am.” He sat on the edge of his chair and looked me straight in the eye. “Is there something else you want to tell me?”

I shook my head.

“All right. I’ll go find Sheriff Wheeler and let him know we’re through here.” He pulled out a business card. “If you think of anything else, please give us a call.” He closed the door behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

True to Deputy Ray’s word, Sheriff Wheeler brought Dee Dee back a few minutes later. Dee Dee’s haunted gaze found mine, her complexion looked like she’d stolen the white right off a lily. Shaking, she grabbed the doorframe with one hand, and reached for me with the other.

I stood up and headed straight for her. Nothing works better than a warm hug from a friend to let them know it’s all right—even if it wasn’t. “Oh, Trixie, Sheriff Wheeler wants me to stay around for the next couple of days.”

“I’d like for both of y’all to stick around.” He settled his hat on his head.

“Sheriff, you don’t think Dee Dee had anything to do with this, do you?”

“Well, ma’am.” He grabbed the doorknob. “She was found with the murder weapon. It’s standard procedure in situations like this.”

By the time we unloaded our luggage and returned to the inn, it was after nine. This was the first time we’d seen our room, and though it was nice and clean, the interior was time warped straight from the early 1900’s. If the décor was meant to be realistic to that time period, then the decorators did their job well. The door led to the outside walkway, which wound around to the lobby. No wonder no one had reserved this room before I called. Even on this busy weekend.

The darkness outside matched the darkness I felt. Only this morning we had sung with Alan Jackson and eaten trail mix while we dreamed of a wonderful weekend. Our dream had turned into a nightmare.

“Trixie, what are we going to do?”

“I honestly don’t know, Dee Dee. It feels like aliens have sucked my brains right out of my head. Are you mad at me for asking you to come?”

“No, not mad.” Her pleading eyes begged for assurance. “Scared. Is the sheriff going to arrest me?”

“You wait and see.” I faked optimism. “By morning, your involvement will be clarified. If that sheriff is half as good at solving crimes as he is good-looking, he’ll have it figured out soon enough.”

“You think so?” She spoke with an expectant tinge in her voice as she rubbed her palms together.

“It stands to reason, Dee Dee. You didn’t even know John Tatum until today.”

She managed a smile, but her watery eyes told another story. For her sake, I attempted to put on my big girl bloomers and show confidence—even if I didn’t feel any.

“The truth is, Sheriff Wheeler asked me if I knew the victim. I told him Mr. Tatum knocked you down this morning.” A sly grin crossed her face, and she voiced what I was thinking. “I didn’t tell him about my little tirade, but he’s bound to find out sooner or later.”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t find out and blow it way out of proportion.” I looked around for a dresser to hold my clothes.

We discussed the dilemma of calling our families. Should we, or shouldn’t we? We decided to wait until tomorrow. No reason to worry them needlessly.

A loud growl erupted from my stomach, accompanied by a burning, gnawing pain. A blatant reminder of when we’d last eaten.

“My lands, Trixie. It’s a good thing we’re not in public.”

“No worse than the noises you make all night,” I shot back. “I’ll scout the lobby for food. I need to eat so I can take some pain medicine.” I rubbed my knee. The relentless ache alerted me of the impending knee replacement in my near future. As a teenager and young woman I actively played sports. I didn’t realize the beating my knees took until adulthood. I compounded the damage when I fell from that danged horse.

“What can you find to eat this time of night?”

“I remember seeing a refreshment area with coke and cracker machines. Not the Waldorf, but better than nothing. I’ll get you a bite, too.”

“I don’t feel like eating,” she replied.

Uh oh, not a good sign. I could count on one hand the number of times when Dee Dee lost her appetite.

Timing is of no consequence to memories. Maybe food was the trigger. Vivid images flashed through my mind, replaying the time when one of Dee Dee’s precious cats choked on a chicken wing. Like any good mother, she reacted immediately. Then panic set in and she started slinging the cat around in circles, yelling “I killed him! I killed him!”

Gary, Dee Dee’s late husband, rescued the cat and discovered a jagged bone stuck in the roof of Ziggy’s mouth. After Gary fished out the bone, the dazed cat recovered nicely. Too bad Dee Dee didn’t fare as well—it took her several days to get over the shock.

Chapter Four

I grabbed my cane. It wasn’t that far to the lobby, but my knee felt as supportive as a worn out bra. The lighting outside was barely enough to illuminate the pathway. Shadows danced around me.

I reached the lobby to find it deserted; not unusual at this time of night. The quietness of the room heightened my nerves.

The snack room proved easy enough to find, much easier than finding my change. As I fumbled around in my bag, the hair on the back of my neck suddenly stood at attention.

I turned, quickly, and spied a lanky man staring my way, blocking my exit. I dropped my bag, and contents spilled in all directions.

“Please. Let me help you.” The stranger scrambled to pick up my belongings.

Embarrassment shrouded me like a cloak as a tampon rolled across the floor.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Leroy Roberts. I help Aunt Joyce run this place.” He seemed apologetic, but I couldn’t shake the feeling he’d been watching me.

“Shoot. You took ten years off of my life.”

“I’m so sorry.” He smiled sheepishly as he handed me my stuff. His eyes wandered to my cane. “Can I help you with anything?”

“I was trying to find change. I wasn’t having much luck.”

“Come on in the office with me.” He pointed to a door not far from where we stood. “I’ll be glad to help you get what you need.”

I warily followed him to the office where he opened a cash drawer and traded me for a stack of ones. Like a shadow, he accompanied me back to the snack room. I bought a bountiful supply of drinks and food, enough to last us through the night. He kindly offered to carry my stash of crackers and cookies back to the room.

“Uh, no thank you.” I thanked him for his help, and bade him goodnight. I couldn’t get back to my room fast enough, so I hurried as quickly as I could hobble.

“Where’ve you been, Trixie? I started to look for you.” Sprawled out on the bed, atop a beautiful white Chenille bedspread, Dee Dee didn’t look like she’d planned on going anywhere.

“You won’t believe what happened!” I explained how Joyce’s nephew appeared out of nowhere and scared the starch out of me.

“He stood close enough to see my gray hairs—that is if I had any.” I ignored the snort Dee Dee rendered and continued. “I don’t know. He seemed nice enough, but I had this sense he’d been watching me.”

“I’m sorry Trixie.” Dee Dee picked at invisible lint on the cover. “I guess we’re both on edge after today’s events. Who wouldn’t be? But, what if it was a coincidence you turned around the same time he was going to speak.”

“I suppose you’re right. I was on my last nerve and jumpy as a cat in a room full of dogs.”

“What did you get to eat?” She licked her lips, and browsed my purchases with keen eyes. “I think I might be able to handle a little something.”

I rummaged through the goodies. “I’ve got cheese crackers, trail mix, and some pretzels. What do you want?”

She sat up on the bed. “I’ll take the pretzels and some cheese crackers if you have enough. Did you get me a diet drink?”

As she reached for and slurped my soda, I breathed in relief. Nice to catch a glimpse of the old Dee Dee.

Except for munching sounds, quietness enveloped the room as we sat on our respective beds. We made up for the dinner we didn’t feel like eating.

I relinquished dibs on the bathroom to Dee Dee. Thirty minutes later, she stepped out, looking like the cat’s meow—literally. Dee Dee wore bright red pajamas covered with white cats. Those red pj’s on Dee Dee conjured up images of Mrs. Claus.

Worried and completely worn out by the day’s adventures, I stumbled to the bathroom. The décor reminded me of my grandmother’s house, more utilitarian than glamorous. An antique chain dangled from the one lone bulb on the ceiling. A muslin cloth curtain hid the exposed pipes under the sink. In the corner of the room stood a claw foot tub, deep enough to get lost in, and I couldn’t wait to sink into a tub full of hot water and soak sore muscles wound tighter than an old pocket watch.

Relaxed and ready for bed, I exited the small sanctuary. The cacophony of rattling sounds coming from Dee Dee alerted me she was either asleep or choking on something. Spying her a long moment, I decided she was asleep. I lay in my unfamiliar bed rehashing the events of the day. I wondered how in the world we got into this mess; worse yet, how in the world would we get out of it?

Only a little while ago, the room seemed quaint and alive with history. Lying in the darkness, it seemed oppressive and full of unsettled ghosts. I tossed and turned as sleep eluded me, and stared into the black night for what seemed an eternity. My mind drifted into a dreamlike state.

I stood in the town square. An angry mob was making its way to the courthouse. My heart rate accelerated as I realized they were headed for Dee Dee, who stood holding a pickaxe in her bloodied hands.

The mob drew closer and closer, familiar as well as unfamiliar faces appeared. Sheriff Wheeler, Deputy Ray, Joyce, and her nephew, Leroy Roberts, stood out from the others. Contorted faces and furious, bulging eyes indicated they had not come to help.

What was worse, a lifeless, pale, zombie form of John Tatum, with a gaping hole in his chest, led the pack. A devious grin covered his face.

Death was closing in!

Chapter Five

Seconds before death’s hand closed around my throat, I shot straight up, a scream on my lips. Darkness shrouded the eerily still room. Fear had drenched my night clothes in sweat as if I’d completed a mini-marathon.

After a few breaths, the cobwebs cleared my mind. I strained to get my bearings in the unfamiliar surroundings, clutched the covers tight under my chin, and sent up a prayer. Please Lord, keep us from harm. May my sleep be free from nightmares.

I fluffed up my pillows and lay down. Dee Dee’s familiar snores wafted from the next bed, and lulled me to sleep.

Morning came way too soon.

Dee Dee sat on her bed, legs crossed. “Trixie, please tell me I dreamed I found a dead man.” Her gaze pleaded for me to agree.

“More like a nightmare. Let’s hope the sheriff has found the person responsible.” Images of the handsome Jake Wheeler flashed in my head. I smiled. After had Wade left me, I had thought I would never be able to admire another man. Moisture filled my eyes, and I blinked hard and changed the subject. “Are you hungry?”

Dee Dee’s eyes lit up like a night star. “Is a black bear black?” She giggled at her own joke, and patted at her midsection. “Let’s go see what they have in the dining room. Those crackers are long gone.”

Both dressed in slacks, short sleeve shirts, and comfortable shoes, Dee Dee and I prepared to meet the challenges of the day. The colorful combination of Dee Dee’s ensemble, next to my own blend-in-with-the-crowd khakis, put a smile on my face. The beaded, multi-colored necklace and the copious bangles on her wrists completed the fashion in true Dee Dee style.

Outside, the cool mountain air was a balm to my spirit. The sweet smell of gardenia pleased my nose. “The sun is trying for all its worth to peep out. I predict a beautiful day.” I gave her a poke, longing to cheer Dee Dee up. But it was going to take more than a perfect fall day to work that wonder.

In the cozy lobby a few people stood scattered around, some looked at brochures, while others relaxed on overstuffed sofas. Arrows pointed down the hall and to the right, and the smell of bacon lured. Crammed with tables, the area looked more like a breakfast nook than an actual dining room. People crowded around the breakfast buffet like pigs at feeding time. We lined up for our turn at the trough, me committed to sticking with whole grains and yogurt.

With Dee Dee blocking like a Bulldogs linebacker, we hurried to beat a little old couple to the only empty table by the window viewing the town square. At the last minute we acquiesced. It wasn’t long before another table by the window became available.

Outside, merchants and artisans lined both sides of the streets. Participants set up their various booths, getting ready for the enormous crowd guaranteed that weekend. Soon, you’d be lucky to see daylight between the excited tourists.

“Wow, I guess Gold Rush Days brings in the crowds.” Dee Dee buttered a homemade biscuit. Golden yellow liquid slid off the sides of the hot treat. I stared at my granola and yogurt. Now my mouth watered.

Dee Dee must have misunderstood my expression. “I know. I know. We planned on a fun weekend. I’m sorry.”

I leaned in closer to Dee Dee, my attention focused on the biscuit. “You can quit apologizing Dee; it’s not your fault someone killed Mr. Tatum.” Temptation overpowered me. I sneaked half a biscuit from her plate, and jammed it into my mouth. “Sorry.” I spoke through the crumbs.

Dee Dee moved the other half out of my reach. “I’m always getting into some sort of trouble. Losing my temper. Causing a scene.”

“Not your fault,” I muffled through a mouthful. “If the attitude he portrayed yesterday is normal behavior, then I suspect a few people wanted to murder him.” I surveyed my plate, then hers. My granola and yogurt looked unappetizing next to Dee Dee’s plate of sausage, biscuits, gravy, hash browns, and scrambled eggs.

“Back in a second,” I murmured and headed back to the breakfast buffet. While there, I overheard a couple of women talking about the murder.

I grabbed two biscuits, put them on my plate, and lingered by the packets of jelly and jam to eavesdrop.

The taller of the two women spoke, heaping a steaming scoop of scrambled eggs to her plate. “It was probably the wife. Well his ex-wife.”

Her companion chimed in with a wag of the grits spoon, and went on about how his ex-wife, Tammy, should really be on the suspect list.

I screwed my lip and selected a handful of strawberry jams. Interesting how she didn’t hold back when it came to telling people how she felt about him. And it wasn’t complimentary either. They moved forward toward the drink dispensers.

Someone gave me a gentle nudge from behind. My cue to move on down the line. I eyed my plate on the way back to the table. My new choices, hash browns, sausage, and buttered biscuits, supplied enough grease for a lube job on a small car. Oh well; what’s a girl to do on vacation? Besides, yesterday’s stress probably added up to some calorie use. At least it made me feel better to think so.

We were quiet as we crammed food into our mouths, much like everyone else in the room. I looked up between bites and spotted Joyce across the crowded room. Her eyes widened. She threw up her hand in greeting and veered our way.

“Here comes Joyce,” I stage whispered.

Dee Dee looked up and scowled. “Well, she can walk on by for all I care. I’m not in the mood to talk.” She stuffed another bite of egg into her mouth, guaranteeing she wouldn’t be able to say a word.

“Grouchy,” I whispered as Joyce approached, but I knew how Dee Dee felt. I wanted to eat in peace, and I especially didn’t want to be reminded of the previous night.

“Hi! How are y’all doing this morning?” Without waiting for an invitation, Joyce plunked down in an empty chair and made herself at home. Dee Dee’s eyes glittered with irritation. “I guess after yesterday’s happening, y’all aren’t doing too good.”

Dee Dee and I exchanged a glance. Her expressive eyes spoke volumes. Brilliant deduction, Sherlock. I fake-wiped my mouth to stifle a giggle.

“You might say that. But breakfast is helping. The food is great. I don’t want it to get cold.” I shoveled some hash browns in my mouth, hoping Joyce would get the message, but she didn’t. Instead she planted her elbows on the table, oblivious to our emotions.

Dee Dee heaved a sigh and ate more sausage. Joyce glanced around the room then leaned in toward us. “I thought I should warn you.”

Dee Dee stopped chewing. “Warn us?” she asked through a mouth full.

“About what?” I flicked a glance to the ladies I’d overheard in line, and saw them staring. Were people already talking about us?

Joyce took a deep breath. “Sheriff Wheeler came by this morning, and we had a long talk. He asked me what took place between Dee Dee and John Tatum. I told him what I knew. I didn’t want to get you girls in trouble, but I felt obligated to tell the truth. The truth is always the right thing to say, don’t you think?”

Joyce squirmed in her chair.

I took a quick gander at her. Petite and downright skinny. Wrinkles lined her face, but they faded next to her beautiful smile. She exuded friendliness that bordered on annoying. That friendliness just might allow us an intimate look inside the community.

Dee Dee’s plump hand reached over and patted Joyce’s skinny one. I recognized the wide-eyed, insincere look on her face. I knew a false endearment was coming. “Sure, Sugar, you did the right thing.”

“It’s terrible.” Joyce’s gray bob swung as she shook her head. “I still can’t believe John Tatum is dead. He was such a leader in the community.” Someone from the front of the room called for her. She scooted her chair back and excused herself. “Be right back, girls.”

Dee Dee folded her napkin and laid it on top of her empty plate. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

“I have, too.” I put my fork down, noticing the way the grease from the sausage was congealing on my plate.

“So much for your theory, Trix. I’d wager the sheriff is looking at me as a suspect.” An un-lady like burp erupted from her mouth. “Excuse me.” She blotted the soiled napkin to her mouth.

“And you said I made unpleasant noises?” I crossed my arms and leaned back to stare at her.

“Well, I’m entitled. I could be jailed for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, come on,” I said with as much conviction as I could muster. “That sheriff looks like a smart man. Surely he can figure out you’re no murderer.”

Dee Dee snorted. “Looking smart doesn’t count for anything. Time will tell.” A slight smile came to her lips. “He is good looking. If not for the circumstances, I wouldn’t mind him looking at me.”

I forced a laugh along with her. My breakfast churned in my stomach, and Dee Dee eye’s were dark with concern. Good looking or not, the sheriff and his new information made me nervous. Perhaps we should keep our ears open and learn a little more about John Tatum, just to help the sheriff along.