Divas Do Tell (19 page)

“For heaven’s sake, you’re just so negative. Think more positively. Negativity breeds negativity.” She put the Mercedes in reverse instead of drive, and we shot backward several yards before she got the tank stopped. I grabbed my neck, thinking of whiplash. “Oops,” she said, put the car in the right gear, and we drove down the street while I tried to think of what to say that’d convince her we weren’t capable of investigating.

Nothing good came to me. I’d exhausted my best arguments. Then I thought of something. “Let’s go talk to Rayna. We’ll tell her what we just found out and see what she says.”

“Excellent idea. We’re always better as a team. I’m glad you see it my way, Trinket. Dixie Lee murdered Billy Joe, but we don’t know who killed Abby Bloom. So now we have two murderers running around town.”

“Take heart. Maybe Dixie Lee killed them both. Probably JFK and Jimmy Hoffa too.”

“You’re being sarcastic again, aren’t you.”

“Why would you think that?”

She didn’t say anything else until we got to Rayna’s house. She and Rob live in an old hotel they’ve partially restored. It sits right next to Phillip’s Grocery and across the street from the Civil War era railroad depot. The railroad station is on the historical register since it was originally built before the Civil War and added on to over the years. It has a lot of rooms on the second floor that were once rented to train passengers on their way to other destinations. The bottom floor is the former lobby, ticket agent station, and storerooms. Trains still stop, but they’re freight trains instead of passenger, and use the white block building for personnel. The railroad station has been owned by the same family since the nineteenth century. It’s a beautiful building with curlicues and cupolas, painted red and still stately despite its age. A faded rose of an era long past.

The Delta Inn faces the railroad station’s garden across the narrow street. It’s a two-story structure with a long porch all the way across the front. The second floor balcony has doors leading from the rooms for guests to sit outside. The interior lobby is marble and leftover gilt, with the former reception desk now serving as a lovely breakfast/dinner/Diva Day bar. An overhead dome in the lobby’s center provides lots of light for Rayna’s paintings. There’s always a canvas on an easel in front of the east window. A former baggage room serves as a place for Rayna’s cats to eat in peace as the half door stays open only on top; her big dogs tend to graze on cat food and kitty nuggets if left to their own devices.

“Hey,” said Rayna as she greeted us. “Come sit by the fire. It’s chilly in here today.”

A nice fire burned in the marble-fronted fireplace. It smelled like cedar. Two chairs and a small loveseat were arranged in front of the hearth, with a thick rug on the marble floor. Five cats snoozed on the rug, light dancing across them as they enjoyed the heat.

Once we were seated, Bitty and I across from each other in the wingback chairs and Rayna on the loveseat, Bitty got straight to the point.

“Dixie Lee Forsythe murdered Billy Joe, and we need to provide proof for the police.”

Rayna lifted her brows. She glanced at me, then looked back at Bitty. She sounded cautious when she said, “I’m sure the police will find necessary proof if Dixie Lee killed him.”

“Now Rayna, you know as well as I do that we can do things the police are restricted from doing by law.”

“Like what?”

“Like snoop without a warrant.”

“Are you suggesting we search Cady Lee’s house?” I asked with growing alarm.

“Of course not. I’m sure Dixie Lee is too smart to take any evidence inside. I suggest we search her car.”

“Bitty,” said Rayna, “that’s not really a good idea. For one thing, it’s against the law, and for another thing, she has a very good alarm on her car. We’d be caught before we got the door open.”

“And what would we be looking for, Bitty?” I had to ask. “A smoking gun? The police already have that. It was next to Billy Joe.”

“Well, good heavens, do I have to think of everything? We’d just be looking for incriminating evidence.”

“Such as . . . ?” I shook my head. “It wouldn’t make sense to go looking for evidence against Dixie Lee, but it would make trouble. Let’s not go there.”

“Besides,” Rayna pointed out, “we don’t have any proof at all that it was Dixie Lee.”

“Yes, we do,” Bitty insisted. “Mrs. Whitworth across the street saw her. It was Dixie Lee.”

Rayna looked startled. “She did? I hadn’t heard that. Did she tell the police?”

Bitty nodded. “She did. I’m sure they’re going to arrest her at any moment.”

“Then why do we have to do anything at all?” I asked. “If you think the police are about to arrest her, we don’t need to do anything. And Mrs. Whitworth didn’t say it was Dixie Lee. She didn’t see the face, and there are any number of women in the Holly Springs area that are tall, slender and have blonde hair.”

“Wow,” said Rayna. “She saw someone like that go into Billy Joe’s house before the murder?”

I nodded. “Yes, but she couldn’t see the face. She also said women come and go all the time while his wife’s at work. So it could be anyone.”

Rayna looked over at Bitty. “Let’s see what the police do. If they have enough evidence that Dixie Lee is the murderer, they’ll arrest her. If they don’t arrest anyone, we’ll see what happens then.”

“But what if she tries to leave town? Then what?”

“Then the police will very likely go after her. They’re not going to allow a suspect to get away, Bitty. I think we should just wait.”

Bitty huffed out a big sigh. “Fine. But we’re taking a chance on letting Dixie Lee get away with killing Billy Joe.”

“So who do you think killed poor Abby?” I asked Rayna. “And why?”

Rayna leaned closer to us, lowering her voice. “Rob would be upset if he knew I was telling you this, but everyone will know it soon anyway—Mira Waller was seen going back to Montrose after everyone left two nights in a row—one of them being the night of Abby’s death.”

Bitty’s eyes lit up. “Really?” she breathed. “Do the police think she killed Abby?”

Rayna shrugged. “She’s one of the suspects. Right now Tasha Donato is the main one, from what I’ve heard.”

“So they have Simon and Tasha Donato in interrogation, Allison Cramer, Dixie Lee, and now Mira Waller? Who’s next?” I wondered aloud.

I thought Bitty was just going to burst with excitement. Her blue eyes gleamed like lasers. She clasped her hands together under her chin and exhaled. “This really is like an episode of
Criminal Minds. CSI. Bones
.”

“Not
Bones
,” I disagreed. “Not grisly enough.”

“
Homicide Hunter
, then. With Lieutenant Joe Kenda. I like him.”

Ignoring Bitty’s fascination with television murder programs, I said to Rayna, “She was killed at Montrose, so unless Tasha was staying there too I don’t think she’d have an opportunity to kill her. Simon might, however. Did Mira say why she went back there after everyone left?”

“I don’t know her reason for going back, only that she did. No one was supposed to still be there. Simon was at the Forsythe house directing a scene. Abby was killed around five or six. It was already dark by then. I don’t think anyone saw who went in or out after the crew all left.”

I thought of the young woman with a lump in my throat. “How was she killed? I mean . . . did she see it coming, do you think? I heard death wasn’t instant. I hope she didn’t suffer.”

“Someone hit her in the head with a baseball bat. She probably lost consciousness immediately.”

My spine started to tingle. I echoed, “A baseball bat?”

Rayna nodded. “It was left at the scene. One of the crew members said he’d left it in the kitchen earlier in the day.”

I looked over at Bitty. Now her eyes positively glowed. She made me think of a bloodhound on the scent. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see her nose twitch or hear her start baying.

She turned to look at me. “Baseball bat. Allison Cramer. Dixie Lee Forsythe—connect the dots, Trinket.”

Honestly, I couldn’t argue.

Chapter 11

IT WAS ALL OVER town like wildfire about Tasha Donato spying on her husband and the PA. It held just the right elements of intrigue, adultery, and Hollywood to be the main topic of conversation for those of us inclined to such pastimes.

We sat in Budgie’s once again, Gaynelle, Rayna, Bitty, and I while we hashed over the few details we knew and those we suspected. The café was still busy with people in town to make a movie and the people in town to watch those making a movie, even though production had been temporarily suspended. Sandra Brady was holed up in her suites resting; despite being a suspect Mira Waller was reported to be spending a lot of money in Rose’s side of the lingerie shop, Buck Prentiss had gone fishing at Chewalla Lake despite the weather, Kathy Adams only had one more scene to shoot before she was through with her part, and Cady Lee and Dixie Lee were said to be staying in a room at The Peabody Hotel up in Memphis. I didn’t blame them.

“Well, I don’t care what anyone says,” Bitty insisted, waving her fork for emphasis, “I’m as sure Dixie Lee killed Billy Joe as I am that Miranda Watson’s dark roots are always showing.”

“If Miranda Watson shows up with bleached roots, you’ll have to eat those words,” I said. “Finish your pie first. It’s going to taste a lot better than crow.”

Bitty ignored me. “Since Tasha Donato is in town, she may have killed Abby, but I’m not at all sure of that. Allison Cramer certainly had the opportunity and the weapon.”

“What would be her motive?” asked Gaynelle. “Allison didn’t even know Abby.”

Bitty shrugged. “Maybe she went back for her bat, and Abby tried to stop her. Or maybe Abby knew something about Billy Joe’s murder—that’s it! Dixie Lee did it. She had to.”

“How do you figure that?” I asked. “Dixie Lee had no motive at all to kill Abby.”

“Don’t you see? Abby must have seen Dixie Lee go to Billy Joe’s house, and threatened to tell what she knew. So Dixie Lee picked up the baseball bat and hit her.”

After a moment Rayna said, “Well, that’s within the realm of possibility, of course. I’m not at all sure it’s what happened, though. Dixie Lee doesn’t seem the physical type.”

I agreed. “True. When Allison confronted her with the baseball bat Dixie Lee just stood there. Even when I yelled at her to run she couldn’t do anything but stand there like a pole. It was up to me and Bitty to keep Allison from braining her with the bat.”

“It’s still possible,” Bitty insisted. “What if someone recognized Billy Joe’s killer? What if that someone was Abby? If it wasn’t Dixie Lee, it could have been Allison who killed him. Maybe Abby saw her going in the house. She had to pass almost right by there on her way back from Montrose at just the right time to see the killer go inside.”

I looked at Bitty curiously. “How do you know?”

“Don’t you remember, Trinket? Mira Waller was whining about it before our big scene. She said crafty was out and Abby was supposed to bring her a Diet Coke on her way back from Montrose, but she brought Diet Pepsi instead. Mira was really bitchy about it.”

“I’ve blocked all memories of that day from my mind, so don’t remind me of it.”

Bitty rolled her eyes and continued, “Billy Joe’s house is right at the corner. It’d have been easy enough for Abby to see who went in as she passed by, and it was right around the same time as he was killed.”

“If Allison had gone home for lunch, Mrs. Whitworth would have known it,” I said. “And she said a tall, slender blonde woman went in right before he was killed. Allison may be blonde, but she’s sure not tall or slender. And Abby wouldn’t have known what she was seeing so wouldn’t think anything of it.”

Bitty looked disgruntled. “So who was it then? I’m out of blondes.”

“A movie set is bound to have a lot of wigs on hand,” said Rayna. “It could have been anyone who wanted to wear a wig and disguise themselves. We just have to figure out who had the most reason to kill Billy Joe. I’m not convinced the two murders are connected. Billy Joe wasn’t the most popular guy in town. Jealous boyfriends or husbands might have wanted to kill him.”

“But what about Abby Bloom?” I asked. “Who did she make mad enough to kill her?”

“I’m telling you,” said Bitty, “Abby was killed to shut her up. Unless Tasha did it. Then she was killed because she was fooling around with Simon.”

“So we’re right back to the beginning,” I observed. “We have no idea who killed either one of them.”

“All right, so I may not know who killed Abby,” said Bitty, “but I’m pretty sure Dixie Lee killed Billy Joe. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.”

“I hate to say this,” Rayna began, “but the likelihood is that he messed with the wrong woman, and her husband or boyfriend shot him, or even a woman he rejected. But Bitty’s right—there’s always the slight possibility Dixie Lee shot him, too.”

While Gaynelle and I tried to recover from the possibility that Bitty might be right in her single-minded persecution—excuse me, pursuit—of Dixie Lee Forsythe, Rayna continued, “The police aren’t saying either way right now. They’re talking to Allison and Tasha and will talk to Dixie Lee again when she comes back from her book signing in Memphis.”