Full Bloom (12 page)

“And I need to use the restroom,” Theenie said, getting up from the table. “I’ve held it as long as I can.” She didn’t wait for Lamar’s okay before she left the room.

“This really sucks,” Destiny told him. “I can’t wait until you ask me for help on a case, because I’m going to have a few choice words waiting for you. And don’t even
think
of asking me out again, because I’ll slug you. And by the way, I hope that new fishing boat of yours sinks. I hope you accidentally shoot yourself in the foot with your gun. I hope—”

“I think I get your point,” a red-faced Lamar answered. He looked at Annie. “May I have another cup of coffee?”

“Let him get it himself,” Lovelle said.

More time passed, and Annie could feel her anger rising with each passing minute. “You’re wasting our time,” she said, “when you could be out looking for the real killer.”

The older officer suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Chief, could you come back here?”

Lamar nodded and got up from his chair. “I’d appreciate it if you ladies kept your seats,” he said.

Peaches jumped down from the chair and walked to her empty bowl. She butted it with her nose until it was right at Annie’s feet. Annie ignored her, and the cat walked away.

“Oh no!” Theenie said after a moment. “Peaches is digging in your favorite plant. I don’t know why she insists on doing it when she knows she isn’t supposed to.”

Annie stared at the cat. “She does it because she knows I don’t like it.” Annie was tempted to ignore Lamar’s order to keep her seat so she could toss the cat outside. Instead, Annie just sat there as dirt flew to the floor. Peaches paused and looked at her, topaz eyes unblinking. Annie wondered why the cat chose to pick on her. She had taken exceptionally good care of the animal. There were times the cat seemed to almost like her, those times when Annie awakened in the morning to find Peaches curled in the bed beside her. But mostly Peaches was a big pain in the butt.

Theenie patted Annie’s hand. “It’ll all be over with shortly. Why don’t we discuss the rehearsal dinner for tomorrow night? There’s an awful lot to do between now and then.”

“I’m not in the mood, Theenie.”

Lamar returned a few minutes later wearing rubber gloves and carrying several plastic bags. He held one up so Annie could get a close look. It was filled with cash. “You recognize this?” he asked.

“No. Where on earth did you get it?”

“There was a little hidey-hole in the master bedroom closet. Someone had cut out a piece of Sheetrock, stuffed the money inside, and put the Sheetrock back in place. There’s almost thirty grand here.”

Annie gasped. “Thirty thousand dollars!”

“Holy mackerel,” Theenie said. She turned to Annie. “I thought you were broke.”

“I
am
broke!”

“You’re saying you know nothing about the money?” Lamar asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Annie told him.

“As I recall, that’s the amount of money your husband took from your joint savings. Now, why would he pack his bags and not grab the money?”

“Wait a minute,” Annie said. “Before you just assume that’s the money Charles took from our account, you might want to make sure it doesn’t belong to my tenant Wes Bridges. How do we know that he didn’t put it there for safekeeping? He paid two weeks’ rent with cash.” She knew it sounded dumb, nobody carried that amount of money around, but Lamar’s suspicions didn’t make much sense, either.

Lamar held up the second plastic bag. “Charles’s passport,” he said. “We found it hidden with the money. And this bag.” He paused and held it up. “There’s a one-way plane ticket to Jamaica.”

Annie suddenly felt light-headed. “I didn’t know Charles had a passport. The few times we discussed traveling he said there were several places he wanted to see in this country before he traveled abroad.”

Lamar took the chair beside her. “You know what I think, Annie? I think Charles was in the process of packing his bags when he ran into his killer.”

Annie felt the room spin. She placed both hands flat on the table as she tried to clear her head. “I don’t know what to think. And how come there was only one plane ticket? I can’t imagine him going to Jamaica alone.”

Lamar shrugged as though he didn’t think it pertinent. “Annie, I’m going to have to take you in.”

She just looked at him.

The younger officer stepped forward. “Mrs. Fortenberry, I’m going to have to ask you to stand.”

“What?” Annie looked up. She blinked several times before pushing herself up from the chair. Destiny and Theenie stood as well. Lovelle sat there, looking from one to the other, eyes wide and disbelieving.

The officer pulled a set of handcuffs from his back pocket.

“Hold it right there!” Destiny said. “You so much as try to cuff her, and I’ll claw your eyes out, and put a hex on you. Your wife will leave you, and your house will become infested with termites.”

The man winced and looked at Lamar. “You know I can’t afford to have my place treated for termites.”

“Put those damn handcuffs away,” Lamar said. He looked at Annie. “I don’t know any other way to say this, Annie, but you’re under arrest for the murder of Charles Fortenberry.” He turned to the officer. “Read her her rights.”

It was late afternoon when Wes Bridges stormed into Lamar’s office. He found Jamie Swift and Max Holt sitting across the desk from the man. “I just heard the news. What the hell is going on here?” he demanded of Lamar.

Lamar leaned back in his chair. “Excuse me, but we’re having a private conversation here.”

“Let him stay,” Max said.

Wes kicked the door closed and folded his arms across his chest. “What the hell business do you have arresting Annie?” he demanded.

Lamar opened his mouth to answer, but Max cut him off. “She’s being arraigned late this afternoon. I’ll see that she doesn’t spend a night in jail.”

Lamar shook his head. “Ain’t no way a judge is going to agree to bail on a murder charge.”

“Maybe I’ll get lucky and find a good criminal attorney,” Max replied.

“Not in this town you won’t. The best criminal attorney in the entire Southeast is Cal Nunamaker from Hilton Head, but he only takes high-profile cases, and he charges a bundle. Anyway, he’s semiretired. Spends most of his time on a private island off the coast of Florida.”

Max didn’t respond.

Wes pointed a finger in Lamar’s face. “I’m sick of this bullshit, Tevis. You know damned well Annie didn’t kill her husband.”

Lamar blinked several times as though trying to regain his composure. “Just so happens I have evidence that puts her in a bad light.”

Wes scoffed. “What evidence?”

“It’s no secret,” Lamar said, “but Annie’s husband, I mean her
deceased
husband, withdrew all the money from their savings account the day before he disappeared. We found the money this morning after searching her house. There was almost thirty thousand dollars stashed in his closet. Annie suggested it might belong to you.”

Wes shook his head. “I don’t travel with that much cash, and it doesn’t prove anything with regard to Annie. She obviously didn’t know the money was there; she assumed her husband took it and ran.”

“It boils down to this,” Lamar said. “Charles Fortenberry was murdered before he had a chance to get to the money, and that same person had to dispose of his body and his luggage before driving his car to the Savannah airport.”

“Once again, that doesn’t prove shit where Annie is concerned.”

“There’s more,” Lamar said. “Annie went to the bank the same day her husband cleaned out the account. She’d obviously hoped to beat him to it, but she was too late.”

“That’s impossible,” Wes said. “She was out of town. Visiting her sick mother,” he added.

Lamar shook his head. “I drove over to the bank yesterday and spoke with the teller who assisted Mrs. Fortenberry, um, Annie, with her transactions the day she claimed she left town. The woman clearly remembered the incident because Annie became real upset when she learned all the money was gone. In fact, Annie was still inside the bank when they locked the door and put up the
Closed
sign. She insisted on getting all of her important papers from the safe-deposit box.”

Wes shook his head. “There’s been a mistake.”

Lamar handed Wes a slip of paper. “Annie had to sign this when she closed the safe-deposit box. I had the bank manager check the signature. It’s Annie’s all right. It’s dated the same day her husband withdrew the money.” He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on his desk. “Not only that; she admitted she drove to the house to confront him. She claims he wasn’t there, but she can’t prove it, and we don’t know what
really
happened.

“Bottom line: she lied. People don’t lie unless they’ve got something to hide, and if she lied once, what’s to say she hasn’t been lying all along?” He paused. “Anything else you want to know?”

Wes tossed the slip of paper onto Lamar’s desk. “I think that covers it,” he said. “I’ll get out of your way and let you do your job.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“No, Vera!” Jamie said, standing in the lobby of the police department. “I will absolutely
not
allow you to take pictures of Annie being led to the courthouse in handcuffs. Isn’t it bad enough that every newspaper and TV station within a hundred-mile radius is out there?”

“How in Hades are we supposed to get a story without a picture?” Vera insisted while Mike shuffled his feet nervously. Vera placed her hands on her hips. “I know Annie is your friend, but we need this story, Jamie. This is hot, especially since they lost her husband’s body. Folks are tired of hearing about Tim Haskin’s bull busting through the fence every other day and how the hair dryer at Susie Q’s Cut and Curl malfunctioned and burned Lorraine Brown’s hair right off her head.”

“Absolutely no pictures,” Jamie said, “and that’s final.” She looked at Mike. “You can continue to write the stories, but as we discussed, I have full editorial control.”

He nodded.

Max nudged Jamie. “I need to touch base with Muffin. I’ll be back before they escort Annie next door.”

“Good. She’s going to need all the support she can get.”

Max hurried to his car and climbed in. “Muffin, are you there?”

“No, I’m sipping a rum and Coke in Tahiti,” replied a voice that Max had programmed to sound like Marilyn Monroe. Muffin was Max’s high-powered voice-recognition computer that ran his business empire and personal life from the dashboard of his car. Muffin had attitude.

“I need you to run a check,” he said.

“Who’s the lucky person?”

Max didn’t hesitate. “I want everything you can get me on a guy named Wes Bridges.”

“Don’t make me angry, Lamar,” Jamie said. “You owe Max and me.”

“I’d listen to her,” Vera said. “She’s on a diet.”

Lamar sighed. “Let me get this straight. You want me to allow a murder suspect to attend her arraignment without handcuffs. What if she tries to escape?”

“Oh brother!” Jamie said.

Vera patted her handbag. “I’ve got my .38. I’ll shoot her in the kneecaps.”

Lamar gaped.

“Vera’s kidding,” Jamie said.

“And we want her taken out through the back way,” Max said.

When Lamar hesitated, Vera gave a grunt. “Lamar wants to get his face on TV,” she said.

Lamar was prevented from answering when a white stretch limo stopped in front of the building. A moment later, the driver opened the back door and a blond middle-aged man climbed out. He wore a white tennis outfit that showed off his tanned, well-toned body. Reporters immediately surrounded him, but he merely shook his head and made his way toward the front doors of the police station.

“Holy smokes, it’s Cal Nunamaker!” Lamar said. He looked at Max. “How in the world did you manage that?”

“I asked politely.”

The man pushed through the glass doors of the police station and perused the group with sharp blue eyes. Max stepped forward, shook his hand, and made introductions. “Thanks for agreeing to take the case on such short notice, Cal.”

Nunamaker smiled. “I came straight from the tennis court. Nice airplane you got there, Max. How did you know my favorite dish was lobster thermidor?”

“Just a wild guess.”

Nunamaker looked at Lamar. “Nice to see you again, Chief Travis.”

“It’s Tevis,” Lamar said, blushing.

Nunamaker checked his watch. “I want to see every piece of paper you have on my client. And don’t tell me you’ve put her in a cell, because that’s going to ruin my day.”

Lamar cleared his throat. “We’ve got her in our nicest interrogation room. Matter of fact, we recently had it painted.”

“And another thing,” Nunamaker said, as though he wasn’t listening. “I expect her to be dressed nicely at the arraignment. No jailhouse clothes or handcuffs, you got that?”

“I’m on it.” Lamar hurried away.

“So what do you think?” Max said.

Nunamaker shrugged. “From what you said over the phone, all the evidence is circumstantial. There’s no confession, no witness, no weapon. Hell, there’s not even a body,” he added with a wide grin.

“All they’ve got is probable cause,” Nunamaker went on, “but that’s all they need to arrest somebody. I called the DA from the plane. He was ready to charge Mrs. Fortenberry with premeditated murder, if you can believe it, but I threatened to make his life miserable, so he changed his mind.”

Jamie gasped, suspecting that wouldn’t bode well for Annie. “Can you get away with something like that?”

The man grinned. “Ordinarily he’d probably report me to the bar, but we’re good tennis buddies, and he wants me to put in a good word for him at the Hilton Head Country Club so they’ll offer him a membership. They don’t let just anyone in. Do you play tennis, Max? You look awfully fit.”

“Not as much as I used to. Do you think the judge will let her out on bail?”

“Normally he wouldn’t, but he and I are tight.”

“Is he a tennis buddy as well?” Jamie asked.

“No, he’s my brother-in-law. I’ll still have to argue the point, mostly so I get good press, but I don’t foresee a problem. I should warn you, though: the bail is going to be high. Otherwise folks might think he’s showing favoritism.”

“No problem,” Max said. “As long as he’ll take a check.”

“Hell, you’re Max Holt. He’ll take an IOU on a gum wrapper. Seriously, you and I should get together and hit a few balls sometime.”

Lamar returned with a file folder in his hands, a female officer beside him. “The defendant is changing clothes,” he said, handing Nunamaker the folder. “My officer will escort you back in a few minutes.”

“You’re a good man, Tavis.”

Annie paced the room and watched the clock. Only thirty minutes left before she would have to face a judge who would probably throw her in the slammer until she was old enough to use a walker. She wouldn’t be able to help Max and Jamie with their wedding. She had let them down, and she had shed more tears over that than she had over being arrested.

She jumped when someone tapped on the door. The female officer who’d been so kind to her opened the door. “Your lawyer is here, Mrs. Fortenberry.”

Annie blinked. “Lawyer?”

A man in a tennis outfit stepped into the room. “Mrs. Fortenberry, at last we meet, and I must say you’re about the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen. I’m Cal Nunamaker, your attorney. You can call me Cal. May I call you Annie?”

She nodded dumbly. “Did the court appoint you?”

“Oh no. A friend of yours, Max Holt, hired me. I promise I’ll get you out of here lickety-split. Do you have any questions?”

“You’re saying I won’t go to jail?”

“Absolutely not. In fact, you’ll be home in time for supper.”

Annie couldn’t hide her astonishment. “But I’ve been charged with murder.”

He smiled kindly. “We both know you didn’t kill your husband.”

“I’ve never killed anyone in my life.”

“So I want you to wipe that worried look from your face and give me a big smile.”

Annie just looked at him.

“You’re not smiling,” he said.

She forced herself to smile.

“That’s much better. Now, you just sit tight for a few minutes, and I’ll be waiting outside to walk you next door to the courthouse.”

Annie nodded as the officer let him out. The woman turned and gave Annie a thumbs-up before she closed the door.

• • •

“I have never been so humiliated in my life,” Annie hissed to Jamie when they exited the courthouse more than an hour later. Annie blinked several times when she saw the crowd that had doubled in size during her brief arraignment, where she had actually been charged with murder and given a court date. Several news vans waited out front, men and women stood on the steps holding microphones, and they raced toward Annie as soon as they caught sight of her. “Oh no,” she said.

“Trust me, we want the publicity,” Nunamaker whispered. “I’ll handle everything.” He stepped forward as microphones were thrust at him. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sure all of you know me, but for the record, I’m Cal Nunamaker, and I’m representing Mrs. Annie Fortenberry. I am only going to comment briefly on the case, and if you’re nice I’ll take a few questions.” He gave them a movie-star smile.

“Mrs. Fortenberry is absolutely and unequivocally not guilty of the preposterous murder charge that has been brought against her by a police force that is either too stupid or too lazy to perform a real investigation.” He paused to catch his breath. “Once this silly matter is behind us I plan to take measures to see that reparations are made.”

“Are you saying you plan to sue?” one of the reporters asked.

“I’m planning something more formidable,” he said. “My client is an honorable, law-abiding citizen, and I refuse to allow her name to be tarnished by frivolous charges that can’t be backed up with solid proof.”

Annie perked up when she spied a smartly dressed woman she recognized from a Charleston TV station. The woman stepped right up to Nunamaker.

“Excuse me, Mr. Nunamaker, but aren’t you jumping the gun here, if you’ll forgive the cliché? After all, I understand the police chief searched Mrs. Fortenberry’s residence and found incriminating evidence.”

“It could easily have been planted,” Nunamaker said. “Chief Tavis is desperate to find a suspect after yesterday’s debacle regarding the loss of Mr. Fortenberry’s remains.”

“Has there been any news on that?” the woman asked.

“Not that I’ve heard.”

“From what I understand, the suspect lied as to her whereabouts the day of her husband’s disappearance,” the woman went on smoothly. “There’s also talk of a troubled marriage and adulterous affairs. That, combined with the fact the remains were found buried in the backyard, is pretty damaging in my opinion.”

“And that, young lady, is precisely why I’m representing her and you’re not,” Cal said, earning a dark look from her. “That’s all I have in my opinion.”

The reporters called out more questions, even as Annie was led away with Max, Jamie, and Nunamaker surrounding her. The crowd was so thick that Annie didn’t see Wes standing at the very back.

• • •

Annie was feeling better by the time she arrived home. Cal had insisted on giving her a ride in the limo Max had sent for him. He’d gone over the case briefly with Annie, discussed his strategy, and given her his private cell phone number in case she needed to reach him. He didn’t stop talking until they arrived at her mansion, at which time his mouth fell open.

“Well now, I’ve never seen anything like
that,
” he said.

“And you probably never will,” Annie assured him.

Annie barely made it to the front steps before Theenie threw open the front door. She rushed out, followed by Lovelle and Danny. “Oh, thank goodness you’re home!” Theenie cried, throwing her arms around Annie’s neck. “Lovelle and I have been sick with worry. I don’t know what we would have done had Danny not stayed with us. And, bless her heart, Jamie called several times with an update.”

Annie gave Danny a grateful look and he smiled, but she could see the deep concern in his eyes. It was the same look he’d worn as he waited with Annie during her grandmother’s final hours, the look he’d worn when he told her about Charles’s infidelity and afterward, when Annie realized her husband was gone, along with their savings.

Theenie pulled away slightly and reached for a tissue as Lovelle gave Annie a quick hug. “It’s going to be okay,” Annie said.

Theenie took Annie’s hand. “Come inside, dear. We decided to hold off serving dinner until you got here.”

“Welcome home, Anniekins,” Danny said, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. “It’s good to have you back.”

Annie’s kitchen had never looked more inviting to her. Theenie and Lovelle ordered her to take her seat at the table while they put the finishing touches on the meal. Although Annie had not eaten all day, she had little appetite, but she forced herself to eat so as not to hurt the women’s feelings.

“Where is Erdle?” she asked.

“Who knows?” Lovelle said. “He hasn’t been home all day.”

“And Wes?”

“He came back a couple of hours after you were arrested,” Theenie said. “He left as soon as I told him. He didn’t say where he was going.”

Annie wondered if he’d gone to the police station, if he’d spoken with Lamar, if he knew the truth.

Lovelle glanced up from her dinner. “Destiny called Lamar to check on you, then lost her temper on the phone, and then Danny grabbed the phone, and it went from bad to worse. You should have heard all the names he called Lamar. Even used the
F
word,” she added proudly.

“I’m sorry to have put all of you through this,” Annie said.

“It’s not your fault,” Danny said. “The good news is the ballroom floor looks great.”

Annie smiled. “Thank you.” She looked from one to the other and was touched to have such good friends. “By the way, where is Destiny?”

“She had to go into the office and help out, since Max and Jamie were at the police station. It probably saved Lamar’s life.” Theenie touched Annie’s hand. “Did they lock you up with one of those, you know,
big
women?” she whispered.

Annie laughed. “No, Theenie. I never even saw a jail cell.”

The woman gave an enormous sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness!”

“Everything is going to be okay, you guys. I promise.” Annie hoped she sounded more convincing than she felt.

It was late when Max and Jamie left the newspaper office. Muffin had news for them the minute they climbed into his car.

“I have information on Wes Bridges,” Muffin said.

“I’m listening,” Max said.

“He used to be a cop in Columbia, graduated to detective and pretty much ran the homicide unit. Now he’s a private investigator.” Max and Jamie exchanged looks. “The man doesn’t come cheap, but he’s supposed to be the best in the business. Charles Fortenberry’s mother hired him to look into her son’s disappearance after she collected insurance money on her husband’s death.”

“That explains why he rented a room from Annie,” Jamie said. “Eve Fortenberry suspected Annie had something to do with Charles’s disappearance.” She looked at Max. “I don’t like it. I think we should drive over and tell Annie right this minute.”