Cover Story (16 page)

I'd like to be able to say that something awesome, significant, or even scary happened, and that I singlehandedly solved the case while I stood there, paintbrush in hand, but alas, no such luck.

FLIPPED OUT
—JENNIE BENTLEY

B
y late Saturday morning Lizzie was already behind on her day's “to do” list. She'd managed to get some vacuuming and her grocery shopping done for the week. Of course, still being on vacation she could do that at any time but she stuck to the routines of her workweek without giving it much thought. Since tomorrow was the launch, she planned to visit her mama this afternoon. She didn't know what the evening held. She'd learned over the past several months that when Mark was enmeshed in a murder investigation, he took little time for himself, at least at the beginning of the investigation. Had it only been a little less than two weeks since this all started? Now with two murders, who knew when she'd spend an evening, much less a night with him?

She realized they'd been dating for almost a year now. That seemed like such a short time, but on the other hand, it felt like Mark had always been in her life. Maybe that was because she'd admired him from afar in high school. School friends seemed like forever friends, no matter how old or how long ago it had been. No wonder Molly had been so excited about reconnecting with Teensy.

After finishing a green salad for lunch, Lizzie changed into a pale pink cotton sundress and checked on the cats, who were curled up and sleeping back-to-side, even in the heat. She'd bought her mama a gardenia-scented sachet the day before and stashed it in her handbag before leaving the house. Nathaniel was sitting on his porch out of the direct sunlight. He raised his glass to her and she waved back, then drove out to Magnolia Manor.

The parking lot at the long-term assisted living residence was unusually busy. Lizzie managed to find a space at the far end of the lot and felt herself melt as she walked across the asphalt toward the front door. She gave a small sigh as she entered the air-conditioned grand entry hall that had been opened up into a waiting area. The building had originally been a family home, reminiscent of a plantation mansion from bygone days. The renovations had included two new single-story wings branching off at angles toward the back. Evelyn Turner's room was on the right-hand side, a few doors away from the large sunroom that joined the two wings together. A courtyard complete with water feature, padded lounge chairs and palms filled in the center portion.

Lizzie greeted by name the staff members whom she passed in the hall. She tapped lightly on her mama's door and was surprised to hear a welcome called out. Her mama never did that. In fact, she often thought her mama didn't even know she was there, visiting. Lizzie pushed the door open and saw Evelyn sitting in her usual chair by the window with Beulah Truman, her next-door neighbor at the Manor, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“How nice to see you, Miz Beulah,” Lizzie said as she walked over and kissed the woman on her cheek.

Beulah smiled and patted Lizzie's cheek in return. “And, you, too, sweet pea. I was just wondering if Evelyn wanted to go for tea but now that you are here, I'll just get along.”

“Why don't you join us?” Lizzie asked.

“I'd be delighted,” Beulah said, pushing herself up from the bed. Her bulky body made for slow movement. The short-sleeved floral cotton shirtwaist dress reminded Lizzie of styles worn by housewives decades ago. It looked comfortable on Beulah.

The three of them walked unhurriedly down the hall, across the foyer and into the large main room where an aide was busily filling glasses and passing them out to the residents. They chose two facing love seats close to the door as all the seating with the view of the wonderful gardens was taken. After settling Evelyn with her tea and a small plate of cookies, Lizzie asked Beulah how she was doing.

“Oh, I'm perfectly dandy. Just the usual aches and pains and I don't talk about them much because everyone here has the same thing.” She gave a hearty laugh, which was just perfect for her size. “We did have a resident pass earlier this week, though. I don't know if you knew her, Velda Franks. She was in her nineties so she'd had a good life and I guess that's all one can expect.”

Lizzie nodded, but before she could say anything, Beulah continued. “Not like poor Orwell Rivers. That man was far too young to die. And in such a horrid manner, too. Poor man.”

“Did you know him?” Lizzie asked, surprised he'd been mentioned.

“Of course I did. I know most of the older generation around town. I even babysat him once or twice when he was just a young one. Always so serious, especially after his mama died. He was only six at the time. She had a heart condition and didn't make it much past thirty. Very sad. His daddy took it real hard and didn't have too much time for the boy. He used to be so eager when I'd get there. He wanted me to read to him and play pick-up sticks and the like.” She shook her head. “So sad.”

“He never married?”

“No, although it wasn't too surprising. He kept too much to himself.”

Lizzie noticed her mama had finished the two cookies so got up to get her another one. She passed the plate around to those close by, then sat back and asked, “Did you ever talk to him or hear anything about him after he opened his business?”

“A printing press, wasn't it? No, our paths never crossed. But hold on, yes, I believe I did hear something more, come to think of it. My son is a banker in town and I remember once he told me Orwell had asked for a loan. Seems he was worried about losing his business.”

“Did he get that loan?”

“I don't think so or Yancy, my son, would have mentioned it when he was telling the story. It couldn't have been easy for Orwell. I think he was paying off some of his daddy's debts for several years. He, the older Rivers, never had a head for business, I recall people saying. It's a good thing Orwell never married or had a family to support.” Beulah leaned over to Evelyn. “Do you remember him, Evelyn? Of course, I'm not sure she even knew him,” Beulah said to Lizzie. “She's quite a bit younger.”

Two residents, a couple who were still able to live together, paused in their walk around the room and had a short chat with Beulah. Lizzie noticed her mama was starting to nod off. Maybe she'd read to her back in the room until she dropped off for a nap.

“I think I'd better get Mama back to her room before she naps in the chair,” Lizzie said.

Beulah nodded. “Yes, dear. That's a good idea. I think I'll just sit here awhile longer. It was so good to see you again.”

Lizzie kissed her cheek. “And you.”

She tucked her arm under her mama's and was steering her away from the love seat when Beulah spoke again. “I just remembered. Yancy must have gotten that loan for Orwell. It wasn't too long after that he started publishing books. My dear friend Carolina was his first customer, and he published a book of her poetry.”

Lizzie nodded and thought about it as they walked back down the hall. So, Orwell needed money, then got some money. Was it indeed a loan or did his business branch out in another direction?

• • •

A
ndie arrived home just after Lizzie had finished talking to Mark on the phone. Lizzie glanced at the clock. Ten
P.M.
Another exciting Saturday night.

“Hey, Andie. Did you have fun tonight?”

“It was okay. A bunch of us hung out at the Dixie Doodle then went over to Serena's house to play Xbox Backyard Sports. Have you ever tried their fitness games?”

Lizzie pretended to be offended. “Are you suggesting I need to?”

Andie looked mortified then noticed Lizzie was grinning. She laughed. “Never. They're just way cool.”

“Nope. Never tried it although I might like to someday. Did you have supper?”

“Yeah. I thought you might be out, tonight being Saturday and all.”

Lizzie sighed. “I thought so, too. Anyway, I'm going to head to bed.”

“I think I'll watch a movie on my computer. Or do you want me to do some more Internet searches?”

“I'm not really sure where to go with the Orwell Rivers angle at the moment.” She filled Andie in on what Beulah Truman had told her.

Andie shrugged. “It sounds like stuff you already knew, sort of.” Andie helped herself to a banana from the ceramic tray on the kitchen counter. “You know, I think you're kinda looking at the wrong murder.”

Lizzie looked thoughtful. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it's like, you want to help Chief Bob, right? Well, the other guy's the one they tagged him for to start with, isn't it? And this Orwell Rivers, he's kinda more mixed in with the phony money. Isn't that what the FBI is here for?”

Lizzie shook her head. “You are so right. I've really gotten sidetracked. How could that happen?”

“You're following the money, I s'pose. Just like you said.”

Lizzie huffed. “Yeah, but that's not good enough. Tomorrow's the launch, but on Monday, I'll try to find out a lot more about Cabe Wilson.”

“That dude was nowhere on the Net.”

“Okay, then it will have to be the good old-fashioned type of sleuthing.”

Old friends were the best kind, it's been said; they know all the old jokes and where the bodies are buried.

A DEADLY GRIND
—VICTORIA HAMILTON

W
hen Lizzie and Andie arrived at Molly's late the next morning, the tables had already been set up on the back lawn. The food tables sported white tablecloths and were awaiting the arrival of the caterer with the food; the portable bar was being stocked; and the area set aside for the Cajun trio was ready. It reminded Lizzie of the garden party Molly had held for the literacy students who took their classes at the mansion. Everything was laid out much the same, except for there being a lot more tables.

That had been a tense time in Molly's life, and also for Lizzie and Sally-Jo, who had been hoping none of their students had been involved in some thefts from the mansion.

Lizzie wandered over to the bookselling table. Andie had actually worn a long black with white polka dots sundress. She looked down at it and grimaced. “I shouldn't have worn this. I really don't feel right in it. My mama bought it for me.”

“I think you look just fine and it adds the right touch to the afternoon. I also like your hair.” Totally black. No neon patches. And lying flat, not in spikes, and tucked behind her ears.

Andie shrugged. “I couldn't think of what color to add this time. It's also getting a bit too long for spikes. I'm not sure what I'll do. But for now, I'd better get this table looking right and ready to go for when Stephanie gets here. I can hardly wait to see baby Wendy.” She clapped her hands together and smiled.

Bob called over to them from the corner of the house. “I'm just waiting for Jacob to arrive and then we'll load those there boxes onto the dolly and bring them over to the table. Is that how y'all plan to have it? No cloth over it or anything?”

Andie looked at the table and then at Lizzie, who shrugged. “Better ask Molly. She'll have something ready to go if that's not how she wants it.”

Molly wasn't to be seen, so Andie went inside to find her. Lizzie wandered over to Bob. “How are you doing?”

Bob didn't look at her but continued scanning the backyard. “Oh, fair to middling. As well as can be expected, I guess.”

“Have the police found anything new?”

“Not that they're telling me.”

“What about Cabe Wilson?”

Bob shrugged. “I guess they're doing what they can but I'd sure like to jump in and do some of my own asking around, just a few questions. I've had a couple of more chats with the feds but they're pretty tight-lipped.” He snorted. “I don't think they're anywhere near tracking down who's in charge of the whole counterfeit operation. I'm pretty sure I'm under surveillance, though. Just not sure who's doing it.”

“Well, I'm not being watched. Tell me who you'd be talking to and what questions I should ask.”

Bob looked at her then. “I won't do that, Lizzie. It's far too dangerous. There are two bodies already. I don't plan for you to be the third.”

Lizzie thought a moment. “If you think that's best, but you know, I'm going to do it anyway. It seems it would be a lot safer and faster if I'm asking the right people the right things.”

Bob shook his head. “I know you well enough to know that's just what you'll do.” He sighed. “So help me, I'll never forgive myself if anything happens to you. Neither will the chief. So I want you to promise me you'll always have someone with you when you're out detecting. It'd take a lot more effort and gumption to try to do away with two of you.” A look of doubt crossed his face and Lizzie knew that he, too, was remembering when a murderer had tried to run Lizzie and Sally-Jo off the road last fall.

“I promise,” she said quickly before he could change his mind.

He looked around and spotted Molly walking toward them. “Let's talk about this either later today or tomorrow morning, at my place.”

Lizzie nodded her agreement as Molly reached them.

“Y'all look deep into serious conversation,” Molly greeted them. “This is supposed to be a fun affair. What are y'all talking about anyway?”

“My fault,” Lizzie jumped in. “I was asking Bob if he'd heard anything more about the murder investigations.”

Molly shook her head. “That's it. No more talk about it today. I'm giving you fair warning. You are to relax and enjoy yourself, Bob Miller, and you, honey”—she reached out and touched Lizzie's arm—“are going to be too hard at work making sure this whole thing runs smoothly to have time for talk of murder.”

“And you will be?” Bob left the question hanging.

“Well I'll be playing the ever-so-charming Southern hostess, all the while trying to ensure our guests leave with lots of purchased books.”

“You're taking to this bookselling way too seriously, girl.”

“Don't you ‘girl' me, sir. Besides, I've taken on this task and I plan to do it to the best of my abilities. Now here comes Andrea with the special tablecloth I found on the Internet.” She took it out of Andie's hands and opened it to reveal a black background almost totally covered with books of all sizes, shapes and colors; some open, some stacked.

“Wow, that's so appropriate. Good for you, Molly,” Lizzie said.

Molly beamed. “Yes, I'm quite pleased with it. Let's get it spread out on this here table and when the books arrive—where are the books, Bob?”

“Just waiting for Jacob to arrive to give me a hand. And, speak of the devil . . .”

The three of them turned to look at the back door and Sally-Jo stepped through followed by Jacob. And he was followed by Teensy.

“Yoo-hoo, y'all. The author has arrived!” Teensy waved a small red and orange scarf in her right hand and used her left hand to gather up the large amounts of material in her long orange, red, pink and yellow gauzy sundress.

Bob said, “huh,” under his breath. Andie stood eyes agog. Lizzie couldn't think of what to say but Molly rushed over to her friend and gave her a hug.

“You look ready to light up the entire Alabama horizon, Teensy.”

“Well that's just what I intend to do, thank you very much.” She gave Molly another quick squeeze and looked around. “This is amazing. Thank you, my dear friend. I am so excited I can hardly contain myself.”

Molly glared at Bob as he opened his mouth. He quickly shut it and signaled Jacob to follow him. Sally-Jo scooted around the two older women and gave Lizzie and Andie a quick hug each.

“I think this will be quite an entertaining afternoon,” she said softly and continued her walk around the yard, inspecting each table.

Andie snorted and turned quickly to the table, pretending to smooth out the tablecloth.

“She certainly does have a flair for clothes,” Lizzie said.

“And hair,” Andie said, her back still turned to them.

Lizzie looked at Teensy's hairdo. It had been caught up and hidden under a wide-brimmed orange straw hat with a yellow organza band around it. A few tendrils of red hair dramatically framed her face. She certainly wasn't afraid to be true to herself. Lizzie admired that.

A baby's crying signaled that Stephanie had arrived with Wendy. “I'm sorry, y'all. She's just woken from a nap and is never in a good mood when that happens.”

Andie rushed over. “Here, let me take her while you put your things down.”

Molly and Teensy joined in admiring the baby, who suddenly quieted down with all the attention.

Bob and Jacob arrived back with the trolley and set about unpacking the books while Andie arranged them in stacks on the table. Teensy swooped over, pulling a pen with a large white quill on the end out of the handbag.

“Before we get involved in anything else this afternoon, I want to give you each a signed copy of my novel,” Teensy said. “It's just a small token of how much I appreciate all your help.”

Lizzie glanced at Molly, who gave a slight shake of her head. Lizzie had guessed right. They wouldn't tell her they'd all bought a copy already. When it came to Lizzie's turn, Teensy said, “Now I know you and Molly have already read the book but a signed copy may be worth something in the future.”

Lizzie smiled and thanked her for the book. The others could return their purchased books and get their money back if they'd not already started reading them.

By the time all the invited guests had arrived, the noise level on the patio was drowning out the music supplied by three graying, elderly men dressed in wildly patterned sports shirts, white cargo pants and sandals. The music they were playing was just as hot as the weather.

The two bartenders were kept hopping as were the catering staff, who kept a watchful eye on the various plates of appetizers, refilling them as soon as too many spaces showed. Lizzie stood to the side, keeping track of who was doing what just in case she needed to step in and help out. She was pleased the lineup for book purchases wound around the yard. The readers would then move over to the autographing line, a more casual formation. Teensy's identifiable laugh would float above the din every now and then.

Lizzie had a moment's unease as she look around the scene, wondering, hoping that it was safe. She noticed that Andie stepped back to do something to the baby, so Lizzie slipped in behind the table to help with the bagging of books. Stephanie looked from the lineup in front of her to her baby. When she saw that Andie had everything under control, she continued taking people's money. Eventually the crowd tapered off.

Teensy's high-pitched laugh rang out and Lizzie glanced toward the back door in time to see Mayor Harold Hutchins step through it and give Teensy a two-sided air-kiss.

Very politic of him, she thought. His white suit, shirt and tie along with the white straw hat gave him the air of a Southern gentleman. Or Colonel Sanders. He looked right at home with the attention he'd attracted, as he tucked Teensy's hand through the crook of his arm and steered her over to the bar. Lizzie noticed he ordered the hard stuff, Bourbon, probably, from the color of it. They really were a well-suited couple.

By that time, most people were sitting and enjoying their drinks or wandering and talking, taking in the gardens. Teensy nodded at Lizzie, who found Molly in conversation in the far corner of the yard. Lizzie excused herself as she broke into the talk and asked Molly to accompany her.

Molly then asked for everyone's attention, thanked them for coming and spending, to which everyone laughed, and then introduced Teensy. The guests cheered and clapped as Teensy walked over to the patio stairs and pulled out her speech.

“I hope y'all will bear with me. I know I can talk up a blue streak and y'all can hardly shut me up—that's not changed over the years—but I wanted to make sure I got this all right and didn't leave out anyone, so being a writer, I wrote it down.”

Ten minutes later, after thanking Molly and the book club members, the mayor and everyone for coming, Teensy opened her book and read from the beginning. After fifteen minutes, she closed the book.

“Now, if y'all haven't bought
The Winds of Desire
, how will you ever know what happens? And I promise, things heat up”—she fluttered her eyebrows—“and it's worth every steamy penny.” With that, she curtsied as best she could and headed to the bar for another drink as some whistles mixed in with the clapping.

By the time everyone had left, three hours after it all started, Molly sank gratefully into a chair and nursed a glass of Chardonnay. Bob finished putting the remaining unsold books back in the boxes while Jacob piled them on the trolley.

“You go and relax,” Jacob said. “I can handle this. Only three boxes going back into the garage. Looks like sales were good.”

Stephanie looked up from where she was counting money. “Y'all can be sure of that,” she said with a grin.

Andie finished totaling up the numbers. “We sold one hundred thirty books,” she announced.

Teensy let out a loud whoop as she sat in a chair across from Molly. “That is what I'd call a successful debut. And I have y'all to thank for it.” She waved her arm around in a circle above her head.

“You've already done that,” Lizzie said as she joined them.

The caterers and bartenders were finishing loading up. Molly stood. “I'll be back in moment. Just a bit of business to attend to.”

Teensy grinned at Lizzie. “I think that I am probably the bestselling author for this day in all of Ashton Corners, possibly even the entire county.”

Lizzie returned the grin. “I'd say that's a sure bet. I'm glad it went so well, but it was certain to be a success. Everyone wants to see your book do well, Teensy.”

Teensy's eyes misted over. “John would have been so proud of me. I wish he were here to see it. I wish he were here to see just how good everything in my life is turning out to be.” She dabbed at her eyes. “Now, what else should I be doing?”

Lizzie stopped to think. “Nothing. Just show up next Saturday, ten thirty
A.M.
at the Winn-Dixie on Broward, with your signing pen of course. I think Molly said the books have already gone out to them. You were interviewed for the
Colonist
the other day, weren't you?” Teensy nodded. “Good. That will be in Thursday's paper, along with the photos their guy took today, so that should get some excitement going about the signings, too.”

Teensy visibly brightened as she looked over to the edge of the patio where Harold Hutchins stood talking to one of the caterers. He glanced at Teensy and nodded. She gave him a small wave. “Well then, I've got me another dinner date with the mayor so we'll just be leaving now.” She bussed Lizzie's cheek. “Thanks again, sugar.” She sashayed over to Hutchins and crooked her arm through his. He leaned toward her and said something that made her laugh as they walked into the house.