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Authors: Kathy Herman

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BOOK: A Shred of Evidence
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“Yeah. Adds a little class without detractin’ from the character of the place. So’d you get your Corvette back?”

“Not yet, but Hank’s got his top man working on it. I’m starved. What’s the special?”

“All-you-can-eat crab cakes.” Gordy tried to pinch Adam around the middle and got only a wad of his Polo shirt. “Wouldn’t hurt you to put on a few pounds.”

Adam laughed. “Why? So I can have love handles like yours?”

“Hey, don’t be badmouthin’ me. Your day’s comin’. One of these days you’ll wake up and
you’ll
be fifty—and all that muscle will’ve turned to flab and shifted to your belly. Hope I’m still around to rub it in.”

“No way.” Adam shook his head, his perfect smile worthy of a toothpaste ad. “Just takes a little self-discipline.”

“Yeah, I remember thinkin’ that, too. And you see where it got me.”

Adam smirked. “Well,
thinkin’
sure didn’t cause that roll around your middle.”

“You’re a real wiseacre, you know it?” Gordy gave Adam a playful jab on the arm. “Come on inside. I’ll pour you a fresh-squeezed limeade.”

Weezie Taylor poked her head out the front door of Gordy’s. “Boss, I just reserved the meeting room for 6:00. The mayor’s bringin’ some brass and some guests from the Sister Cities Program—eighteen of ’em.”

“Wow, that’s the kind of press I like,” Gordy said.

“Yeah, unless they all order crab. We’re gettin’ low.”

“All right, call and get whatever we need.” Gordy looked at Adam, his eyebrows raised. “The mayor, eh? We oughta at least get a mention in the newspaper over this.”

“Might want to think about getting your hair trimmed.” Adam’s palms assumed a defensive posture. “Just a suggestion.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Gordy said.

Adam pulled the back of Gordy’s hair out of his collar and held it with his thumb and forefinger “Don’t you want to make a good impression? You know someone from the newspaper’s going to be snapping pictures. Probably couldn’t hurt to change your shirt either.”

“Hmm … I suppose I could wear somethin’ nicer than a T-shirt.”

“How about that yellow shirt you got in Brazil—the one you don’t have to tuck in?”

Gordy rolled his eyes. “Okay. I get the hint. Cover the flab. Get my hair trimmed. Anything else you want me to do?”

“Remember to smile,” Adam said. “That’s your best trait.”

“Looks like Eddie and Captain are here,” Gordy said, waving to the two men walking down the pier. “You guys save me a place out back. I’ll join you when the crowd thins out.”

Gordy glanced at his watch and could hardly believe an hour had passed. He went into the kitchen and fixed himself a plate of crab cakes.

“Weezie, I’ll be out on the deck with the guys. Can you handle it without me?”

“With one hand tied behind me.”

Gordy blew her a kiss and went out the back door onto the deck and flopped in an empty chair next to Adam and across from Eddie Drummond and Captain Jack. “Since when do you get this long for lunch?” he said to Eddie.

“I took the afternoon off.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Had about all I can take of Mr. Perfect.”

“That new guy?”

“Yeah, Hank’s got him working on Adam’s Corvette—won’t let anybody else touch it.”

“Thank you!” Adam said, his hands folded, his eyes looking up to the sky.

Eddie fished an ice cube out of his water and tossed it at Adam. “I’ve been doing body work for twenty years. I don’t need some newbie hotshot trying to show me up. Suddenly I’m chopped liver.”

“So, he’s kissin’ up to Hank?” Captain said.

“You got that right. Hardly says a word to the rest of us. Drives me crazy.”

“Is he any good?” Gordy said.

“Of course, he’s good. We’re
all
good. That’s why Hank hired us. I just don’t like playing second fiddle to a guy who’s only been there a month.”

Adam lifted his eyebrows. “Well, it’s not as though he hasn’t done this kind of work before. I’m sure he had references.”

Eddie sneered. “Whose side are you on anyway?”

“I’ll let you know after I get my Vet back.”

Eddie dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “I don’t care how good it turns out, I could do as good a job. Really ticks me off Hank’s singling out this hick from Biloxi like he’s better than the rest of us.”

“Mee-ow,” Captain said. “You gonna scratch his eyes out?”

“Go ahead and laugh. What does a retired fishing captain know about getting squeezed out? Jobs aren’t secure anymore, in case you haven’t heard.”

Captain slapped him on the back. “Lighten up. Since when are you tease bait?”

“Okay. I admit it sounds like sour grapes, but I’ve put in twenty years with Hank. At my age, I’d hate to be out on the street looking for a job.”

Weezie came out on the deck and walked up to Gordy. “That order of crab’ll be here before five.”

“Which reminds me,” Gordy said. “Since the mayor is comin’ to my fine establishment, I need to go get my hair trimmed.”

“At the barber shop or the beauty parlor?” Captain said.

Gordy smiled and rose to his feet. “I liked you better when you were pickin’ on Eddie. Now, if you all will excuse me, I need to go get gussied up. Rich boy here says I need to make a good impression.”

“While you’re at it, why don’t you splash on a little cologne?” Adam winked. “Never can tell when a lady might take notice.”

“Yeah, right.”

3

O
n Wednesday afternoon, Ellen Jones came out of Publix pushing a cart full of groceries and was met with the warm, sweet breath of orange blossoms. She walked to her car and let the cart rest against her bumper, then began placing the bags of groceries in the trunk.

She was distracted by a child’s giggling and squealing and peeked around the side of her car and saw a redheaded toddler running between two parked cars, headed in her direction. A young woman was in pursuit, shouting for the child to stop.

Ellen’s heart sank as the tiny girl darted across the traffic aisle, narrowly escaping the front bumper of a blue SUV Ellen stepped between her own car and the one parked next to her, blocking the toddler’s path, then grabbed hold of her arm.

In the next instant, the woman caught up with them, and applied two firm whacks to the child’s behind, then picked her up.

“Mama told you not to get out of your car seat!” the woman scolded. “How can I protect you if you won’t listen?”

The bewildered child rubbed her eyes, then laid her head on her mother’s shoulder and clung to her.

“Thank the Lord she’s not hurt,” Ellen said.

The mother was silent for a few seconds as if consoling herself, then looked at Ellen. “Thank you. I pushed the grocery cart over to the return area, and she was out the door before I realized what was happening. I guess I’m the one who deserves the spanking.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Ellen said. “An energetic
toddler is a handful. I remember chasing after my boys a few times when they were little.”

The woman balanced the little girl on her left hip, and then held out her right hand to Ellen. “I’m Julie Hamilton. This is my daughter Sarah Beth.”

“Ellen Jones. It’s good to meet you both.”

“Would you believe you’re the first person I’ve met in Seaport,” Julie said, “besides store clerks, the mailman, and the guy at the gas station? And we’ve been here a month.”

“I’ve lived here over a year; and truthfully, I haven’t met all that many people either. What brought
you
here?”

“My husband went to work at Hank’s Body Shop, down by the pier.”

“Yes, I know where that is.”

“What about you?”

“My husband accepted a partnership in a law firm in Tallahassee.”

“So he commutes?”

“Not exactly. He tries to spend half the week in Tallahassee, and the other half working out of our house.”

“Do you work?”

Ellen smiled without meaning to. “I’m attempting to write a novel. At the moment, it seems more like playing.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“It is. But the downside is that I haven’t taken the time to make friends.”

Julie lifted her eyebrows. “I haven’t found people all that friendly I thought it would be easier here than in Biloxi—Seaport being so much smaller and all.”

“It’s not close-knit the way you might expect,” Ellen said. “Half of the population has been here less than five years.”

“Maybe that’s what the checker at the grocery store was hinting at. He said once I found my niche I’d like it here. I hope he’s right.”

Ellen touched the tip of Sarah Beth’s nose and got her to smile. “Why don’t the two of you come to my house and have a glass of lemonade? I live just a few blocks from here.”

“That’s really nice of you, but I’ve got milk and eggs in the car.”

“You can put them in my refrigerator.”

Julie looked at Sarah Beth. “If only it were that easy to contain Little Miss Sprinter here.”

Ellen smiled. “I have a long covered porch out back, where Sarah Beth can run and play to her heart’s content while we visit. Please say yes. At least then both of us can say we’ve made a friend.”

Ellen sat in a wicker rocker on the covered veranda of her home, her fingers wrapped around a second glass of lemonade, her eyes studying Julie Hamilton. Ellen guessed her to be thirty something. Thick auburn hair. Pretty face, in spite of the dark circles under her eyes. Nice figure. Ellen noticed her fingernails had been bitten down to the quick. She wondered why Julie had seemed eager to accept her invitation, yet contributed surprisingly little to the conversation.

Ellen turned her attention to Sarah Beth, who squatted on the floor next to the magazine rack, enthralled with the pictures in
National Geographic

“Your daughter seems so self-contained,” Ellen said. “Her attention span is really quite amazing.”

Julie took a sip of lemonade, but offered no response.

“I guess that’s often the case with only children,” Ellen said.

Julie raised her eyes and looked at Sarah Beth. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

Ellen heard sorrow in Julie’s voice and couldn’t imagine that she had said anything to cause it. “She’s a beautiful little girl. Someday, I hope to have a granddaughter.”

“Didn’t you say you had two grown sons?”

Ellen nodded. “Yes, Brandon’s single. Owen got married over the holidays. It might be a while before we have grandchildren. But I’m looking forward to it.”

“I remember how excited my folks were when I was pregnant.”

“Do your parents see Sarah Beth often?”

Julie stared at her glass, her nose suddenly red, her chin slightly quivering. “Not since … let’s just say there’s some friction between them and my husband.”

Ellen toyed with the urge to play psychologist, but couldn’t bring herself to ask questions.

Julie looked at her watch, then set her glass on the coaster. “We really need to be going. Sarah Beth needs a nap, and I have a mound of laundry to tackle.”

“Did I say something to upset you?” Ellen said.

“No. It’s been a hard year. I guess I’m not ready to talk about it.” She got up and went over to Sarah Beth and held out her arms. “Come on. Mama’s ready to go. Give the magazine back to Miss Ellen.”

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