Murder in Marietta (A Trixie Montgomery Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 3

  “I’ll be fine. The nurses and doctors have been so good to us. A nurse set me up in a little waiting room and gave me some snacks. Tommy, Dora’s only son, lives in some foreign country. The name starts with a B, maybe Brazil or Britain. She told me he’s a big wheel in a company over there. The doctor put a call in to him. You take care of your business at the museum and come on over when you can.”

  “Thanks, Nana. I’m so glad you’re okay, and I’m sorry Dora fell.”

  “Thank you, Sweetie. I’m going to go and find out if I can finagle an update. When that nice young doctor comes out to talk to me, I’ll put in a good word for you. A little competition wouldn’t hurt Beau. I’ll see you when you get here, dear.”

  “’Bye, Nana.” I heard dead air and realized I didn’t get the name of the hospital.

  I flipped my phone closed and walked over to where Doc discovered the body. The activity resembled a bustling beehive. Officer Debra and Officer Rick were huddled, talking with each other. A redheaded woman dressed in jeans and a bright blue sweatshirt took pictures as fast as the shutter clicked.

  As the EMT’s carried the body out on the gurney, a lifeless arm flopped out from under the sheet, swung down, and dangled toward the floor. One of the techs reached down and nonchalantly tucked it back under. The hair on my own arms stood at attention.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Mr. Nice Suit, whom I assumed was the medical examiner, followed closely behind the techs. He turned around and addressed the police officers. “Tell Bowerman I’ll call him later.”

  I was aware of my surroundings, but felt like I was in the midst of a horrible dream. Doc, standing next to a man I didn’t recognize, surveyed the scene around him and appeared as displaced as I felt. We made eye contact, and I walked over.

  “Trixie, this is Samuel Brooks. He’s the chair of the museum board. Sammy’s always been supportive of our cause, so I knew he needed to know what happened.”

  He flashed a toothpaste ad smile. “Sammy, this is Trixie Montgomery. She writes for “Georgia by the Way,” and planned on writing a feature article on our ghosts. I hoped the publicity would be a shot in the arm for us; a good ghost story could renew interest in the museum.”

  Sammy and I shook hands. The man appeared to have stepped from a page of GQ magazine. He stood well over six feet tall. Up among the clouds, I imagined he experienced an air of supremacy over us mere mortals. A double-breasted suit with a pink dress shirt might be considered arrogant on some men. Not on Sammy. Olive skin, blue eyes, and salt and pepper hair completed the package. A thousand watt smile lit up his face.

  I remember a time, after my divorce, I thought I’d never be interested in men again. Guess I was wrong.

  “I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, Ms. Montgomery. I must admit, the museum grapevine informed me of your visit. I suppose now that such a tragedy has occurred, you’ll want to put your research off indefinitely?”

  Ha! Sammy didn’t have a clue when it came to Harv. If a story involved murder and mayhem, he anticipated the scoop more than ever. My editor isn’t unfeeling, but he’s a journalist, and that means he thinks like a reporter. Get the story, no matter what! is his rallying cry.

  “I’m not sure what’s going to happen, Mr. Brooks. The decision will be up to my editor.” For a mere second his smile faded, but he quickly replaced it with blinding white teeth.

  “Yes, of course.”

  He turned to Doc. “I’m going to talk with the officers to see if there’s anything else I can find out. I need to inquire when we’ll be able to open again for business. I’ll call you later.” He gave Doc a manly pat on the back. “Ms. Montgomery, it’s been a pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry to make your acquaintance under these horrendous circumstances. I hope we’ll have a chance to talk later.” He left us standing alone. Two lost souls in a raging storm.

  “Come on, let’s go find somewhere to sit down.” Gently guiding Doc by the elbow, I led him toward the sitting area in the foyer. Officer Debra hurried after us.

  “Ms. Montgomery, I want to remind you Detective Bowerman needs to talk with you shortly.” She hitched up her pants and settled her hand on her gun.

  “I remember. We’re just going to sit down for a while.” I pointed toward the couch.

  “Fine. But don’t wander off too far,” she warned.

  I helped Doc get comfortable and sat down beside him. The silence between us was palpable. None of this made sense. Doc’s face drooped, and his bottom lip quivered. I said a quick prayer. Please Lord, don’t let him cry. Embarrassed to observe such an intimate moment, I looked up at the ceiling, down at the floor and anywhere else but his face. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I gave his hand a consoling pat.

  “Doc, I’m sorry you found the body. It must have been a shock.” He looked over as if he’d just noticed me.

  “Yes, yes. It was a terrible shock.” He dropped his head into his hands.

  “Do you know who the victim is?” I glanced around. Everyone was busy doing their jobs. No one paid attention to us.

  “His name is Jacob Wallace. He’s our handyman. Or rather, he was our handyman. We had to let him go. I was told he’d been making inappropriate advances toward some of the volunteers.” Doc’s face turned a bright shade of red. “What am I going to tell Penny? She’ll be terribly upset. She’s been functioning on her last nerve ever since these crazy incidences began.”

  I agreed. If Penny was the nervous type, this would really upset her. But, from my brief observation, I think someone, long ago, had stepped on her last nerve and ground that sucker to a pulp. Like Doc, I feared this might send her over the edge.

  “What in the world was he doing in the museum?” I was thinking out loud and jumped when Doc said, “I don’t know. Jacob was madder than a bull stung by a nest of hornets after I let him go. He said the accusations were all lies and I’d be sorry. He was right. I am sorry. Maybe if I’d investigated a little more before I fired him, the problem wouldn’t have come to this.”

  “Don’t blame yourself. I’m sure you made the best decision at the time.”

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  That surprised me.

  “He’d been harassing Susan Gray, one of our board members who frequently volunteers. She happens to be the fiancé of Jeffrey Jones, who’s also on the board. When Susan told Jeffrey what happened, Jacob’s fate was sealed.”

  Before I could get more details, Officer Debra arrived and escorted us into Doc’s office.

  Shortly afterwards, Dee Dee followed Detective Bowerman into the room. “Good, we’re all here.” Columbo leaned against Doc’s desk, studying his notes.

  I sidled up to Dee Dee for comfort. Her frazzled appearance indicated she hadn’t fared his inquisition any better than me or Doc.

  Unlit cigar pointing at us each in turn, Bowerman’s tone was somber. “We’ve ruled this death a homicide. I’m going to need you all to stay close by. Please leave any contact information with one of the officers so we’ll be able to get in touch with you. I’m sure more questions will come up as the evidence is processed.”

  “Ms. Montgomery – Ms. Lamont, I realize you’re from out of town, but I’d prefer you stay around for a few days. I’m sorry if this is an inconvenience to you.” We nodded our heads yes in unison. He gave us one last once over as he chewed his unlit cigar. I almost confessed right then and there. He definitely had this Columbo thing down. “You’re free to go now.”

  After he walked out of the room, I grabbed Dee Dee’s arm. “Come on, Dee Dee! We have to go to the hospital.”

  “Ms. Montgomery! Not so fast,” Officer Debra said. “I need to get some information from y’all first.” We hurriedly gave her our cell phone numbers with the promise to call and tell her where we’d be staying. We also exchanged numbers with Doc and told him to let us know if he needed anything.

  “What’s Nana done now? Is she okay?” Dee Dee knew Nana way too well.

  “Yes, thank God.
It’s her friend Dora. She fell at the bowling alley and broke her hip. She’s in surgery right now.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  As soon as we settled in the car, I called Nana to find out the name of the hospital. Fortunately, the paramedics took Dora to Kennestone Hospital on Church Street, not far from the museum.

  We found Nana camped out in the surgery waiting room. She stood in the corner talking with the most handsome specimen of human flesh I’d ever laid eyes on.

  “Hi, Nana,” I said. My heart pounded and my chest beat like a jackhammer.

  “Hello, Sweetie.” She gave me a big hug and pulled me right up next to the doctor. What gorgeous eyes you have and what luscious lips. I mentally slapped myself. Girl, what are you thinking? You’re here to check on Nana and Dora.

  “Dr. Rossi, this is my great-niece, Trixie. And she’s single. Isn’t she something?” As Dr. Hotty looked me over, I felt the heat travel from my neck to my ears. Nana moved to the top of my naughty list, knocking my ex-husband, Wade Montgomery III, down to second place.

  “Hi. I told your aunt that Dora is out of surgery. We decided to go ahead and replace her hip. We’ll keep her in ICU overnight, and if she does well she’ll move to a room tomorrow.”

  “Has anyone been able to get in touch with her son?”

  “I talked with him, and assured him she was doing fine and there was no need to fly back to the states at this time.” His dreamy eyes scanned a whiteboard over my shoulder.

  “She’ll be in a regular room for four to five days. After her strength returns, we’ll transfer her to the rehab floor where she’ll stay another two weeks. If everything goes as planned we’ll assess her progress and decide when she can go home. Ladies, do you have any more questions?”

  Oh, yes! Questions like, Are you married? How old are you? Where did you get those beautiful eyes? Alas, my Southern upbringing wouldn’t allow me to inquire out loud. Instead, I asked when we could visit Dora, and I was proud of myself for being able to focus while he told us we’d be able to visit her during the evening visiting hours. When he turned and walked down the hall, I noticed Dee Dee’s gaze glued to his backside.

  Nana smirked. “I told you. Admit he’s one hot hunk.” I swanny, I thought she licked her lips. I reached over and gave her a bear hug. “What’s that for?” she asked as she straightened up her clothes.

  “I’m so relieved you’re not hurt. And yes, he is one hot hunk.” Currently, that’s how Nana described the men she found attractive. Lately, anyone who could grow a mustache seemed to pass her hunk radar.

  “Wow, I think he’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen,” Dee Dee said. She furiously rummaged in her purse and drew out what she called her “hot flash fan.” The excitement and stress we’d experienced over the past twenty-four hours erupted. We broke into gales of laughter.

  Nana shook her head, “Be quiet! Everyone’s looking at us like we’re crazy.”

  “You’re right, but it sure feels good to laugh.” I squeezed her to me.

  We maneuvered our way through a maze of hospital hallways before we exited into sunshine as bright as a new copper penny. I rooted in my purse for my sunglasses.

  “Hey, wait up y’all. I can’t find my shades.” Nana and Dee Dee turned around. They sauntered back to where I stood searching for the elusive specs.

  “Want to borrow mine?” Dee Dee stuck her hand in her purse.

  “That’s all right. I know mine are in here somewhere.” Truth is – I didn’t think for one minute Dee Dee would find her glasses quicker than I could in the behemoth bag she called a purse.

  “Here you go!” Dee Dee cheerfully handed me a pair of tortoiseshell sunglasses. A Cheshire Cat grin covered her face.

  “Anybody hungry?” Nana asked. For such a petite little lady, my aunt ate like a bird – all the time.

  “Yes!” Dee Dee and I shouted in unison. I realized neither of us had eaten anything substantial since Hemingway’s the night before. I steered the car away from the square and the chaos of the museum.

  “Let’s go to the Big Chicken, I need comfort food.” Dee Dee fiddled with the air conditioner trying to generate relief from the heat. It was a lost cause.

  “Me, too. I’m hankering greasy chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy. Add two or three biscuits and that should do the trick. Are you game, Nana?”

  “Sure, Sweetie. I may not be able to eat much – maybe a biscuit or two. I’m so worried about Dora. I can’t wait to see her this evening. I’ll feel much better when she’s awake and talking to me.” Nana wiped her forehead with one of her flowered handkerchiefs.

  “I know it must have been scary when Dora broke her hip,” I said sympathetically.

  “Scary doesn’t begin to describe my fear. Especially after she fell on the floor and started thrashing around. I had no clue what happened. I’ve never seen anybody have a seizure in real life, just on one of those doctor shows on the Discovery Channel.”

  In less than fifteen minutes we pulled into the crowded lot of the Big Chicken. Sunday afternoon in the South used to mean dinner after church at grandma’s. Now, parishioners raced from services to the restaurants to see who crossed the finish line first. Rumor had it some churches began an hour earlier so their parishioners didn’t leave before the benediction to beat the crowds.

  The jam-packed parking lot bore testimony to these changes. Patience is not one of my better virtues, but I’d fervently prayed about this issue. This definitely constituted a practice situation. I swung into a space only to discover the area occupied by a little yellow Mini Cooper. It took another five minutes before we found a spot.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The aroma of fried food wafted in the air. While we waited for a seat in the long line, I picked up a brochure on the origin of the Big Chicken. Dee Dee jabbed my ribs and interrupted the history lesson as we moved forward, and she signaled toward an empty table. I grabbed Nana and charged like General Patton on a mission. We barely beat out a family with two teenagers. Now, we’d have to tackle the lines at the order counter.

  “Okay, here’s the plan,” Dee Dee said as she leaned in conspiratorially. “Nana, you and Trixie hold down the fort. Since I’m the largest, I have a better chance of bulldozing my way through the crowd. Tell me what you’re hankering and I’ll go get it.”

  Nana ordered first. “I’ll just take a biscuit.”

  “Trix, how about you?” Before I opened my mouth to answer, Nana continued.

  “And maybe a chicken breast – extra crispy – and mashed potatoes with some of that brown gravy.”

  “Sure thing, Nana.” Dee Dee turned back to me.

  Nana wasn’t finished, yet. “Let’s see. Get me some coleslaw to go with the potatoes. And a piece of lemon meringue pie for dessert.”

  “Are you through, Nana?” I asked.

  “Well, yes honey. Oh, and don’t forget a large sweet tea with lemon.”

  Dee Dee and I exchanged looks. I shrugged and silently answered her question. I don’t know where in the world she’s going to put all of that food.

  “I’ll order the same thing she’s having – skip the pie.” My stomach growled in agreement.

  In a few minutes, Dee Dee forged her way back to the table loaded down with food.

  Nana hesitated before eating. “Girls, haven’t we forgot something?”

  “Nana, what could we have possibly forgotten? We ordered enough to feed a small army.” I looked around, wondering what we’d overlooked.

  “How about giving thanks for all this food?” Nana folded her hands on the edge of the table.

  “Oh my, you’re right, would you please do the honors?” We bowed or heads in unison.

  “Father, please be with all those who are in need. Bless this food to the nourishment of our bodies and our bodies to your service. In your son’s name. Amen.” Dee Dee and I added our amens.

  For the next several minutes the only sounds heard from our table were mmmm’s and ahhh’s and the smacking of lips
.

  “Hey, Nana. How about sharing that piece of pie with us?” Dee Dee poised her fork ready to dig in.

  Nana stared at her like she’d lost her ever-loving mind, but answered sweetly, “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, all right, I’ll go and get a piece for me and Trixie to share.” She barreled her way through the crowd once more.

  Nana reached over and took my hand. “Trixie, go ahead and spill the beans. I want to know what you’ve gotten yourself into over at the museum.”

  “What makes you think I’ve gotten myself into anything, Nana?” I said, but I already knew there was no need to argue with Nana. I wouldn’t win anyway.

  “Hmph, because I’ve known you since you were a baby. Remember?”

  Right now, I’d take advantage of anyone who offered me a shoulder to cry on. Who better than someone who loves you? “You’re right, I do have a lot on my mind. The director of the museum is Harv’s good friend. This assignment is too important to mess up. I need this job, Nana.”

  “You’ve been through a lot, Trixie. Your mama and I are so proud of you. Just remember God is with you, even in the valleys.” She grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze.

  Shortly, Dee Dee came back with not one - but two pieces of pure delight. So between bites of the best lemon meringue pie I’ve ever had the pleasure to eat, I filled Nana in.

  I began to regret being so specific when I noticed her face turn paler than usual. Maybe her heart just wasn’t as strong as it used to be. I lost all misgivings when she said, “My word girl, it’s worse than I thought. Thank goodness I’m here to help you.”

  What had I gotten myself into? After Nana helped Dee Dee and me solve a murder, she’d come to fancy herself as an older version of Jessica Fletcher. She knows all the re-runs of Murder She Wrote by heart. I experienced an eerie sense of déjà-vu right before Nana spoke.

  “Well, what’s the plan?” Nana asked.