Killer in Crinolines (15 page)

I was tired of chasing dead ends and getting nowhere. I was tied of getting knocked into swamps and trapped in gross Dumpsters. I was done with pussyfooting around. I had to start getting some concrete answers. I pointed to Chantilly. “This does concern us. She’s accused of a murder she didn’t commit. Simon cheated on Waynetta Waverly and then scammed her daddy on a golf course deal that doesn’t exist. Rumor is you’re hurting for money and Reese Waverly wanted Simon dead. Now that’s a marriage made in heaven between the two of you, if you ask me.”

Sugar-Ray’s eyes shot wide open. “You know about the golf course?”

Bingo! We were right on! “Crinolines are easy to come by and then there’s the gun issue.”

“Wait a minute, first of all, I do not wear crinolines and I can’t believe you think I killed Simon.”

“He took your place with Waynetta,” I said still on a roll. “Reese couldn’t get his hands dirty with murder and was out of time to keep Waynetta from marrying Simon because he’s crooked as a dog’s hind leg. He hired you to get the job done.”

This time Sugar-Ray put his hands on his hips. “Let me tell you about Waynetta; she had an August marriage planned and no intention of canceling it. Simon was focused on getting rich and had no intention of canceling that. I had no reason to kill Simon. I was out of the picture before he came into it.”

Chantilly said, “You and Reese have something going or you wouldn’t be out there at Bonaventure chanting his name and swilling rum. That brings this conversation back where it started, you and Simon.”

Sugar-Ray ran his fingers through his perfectly groomed hair. He paced the room then turned back. “Leave Reese Waverly alone, he’s been good to me.” Sugar-Ray shook his fist. “Butt out of what’s none of your concern, Summerside, and take your friend with you. I’m not your murderer. Look somewhere else.” He strode to the door and yanked it open. “Now get out and I don’t mean just this here office. You mess up my life and I promise I’ll return the favor.”

I followed Chantilly into the hall, Sugar-Ray slamming the door behind us. “Well, girl,” Chantilly said as we headed for the car. “I say we done poked the bear. There’s something going on with Sugar-Ray and Reese Waverly, and Sugar-Ray is scared out of his designer boxers we’ll discover what it is.”

“And it has something to do with that golf course. Just mentioning it made Sugar-Ray go crazy and get all defensive.”

Chantilly powered up the Jeep and hit the AC, another hot-as-Hades day bearing down on our fair city. When we got back to Cherry House, Chantilly pulled to the curb and killed the engine. Pillsbury gave us a
howdy
wave from the top porch step, BW beside him eating some treat. I’d locked the door to the house, of course. That obviously didn’t matter diddly to Pillsbury, of course, because BW was outside instead of inside. “Well now, looky who’s come calling,” I ventured.

“Goodness me,” Chantilly said in a deep Savannah drawl. “He is one mighty fine-looking man. Makes a girl forget all about dead bodies, Dumpsters, Sugar-Ray, and getting fired from UPS.”

“Does it make you forget about your daddy?”

“Spoilsport.” Chantilly hurried up the steps and sat beside Pillsbury. He took her hand and kissed the back. Okay, I had to admit, that was downright romantic. We should all have a boyfriend like Pillsbury, just with a different occupation and address. I gave Pillsbury a nod when I got to the door.

“Hope you don’t mind I let your dog out,” he said in that voice that seemed to come all the way from his toes. “He’s right fine company. Gave him some healthy treats.”

“It’s not you hanging around my dog that’s got me worried.” I cut my eyes to Chantilly, then went inside and flipped the sign in the front bay window.

“Well, look who’s out there on your front porch making goo-goo eyes at Chantilly,” Auntie KiKi said, coming down the hall after entering through the kitchen. Sometimes I wondered why I bothered to lock the house at all. Everyone knew how to get in. I should pass out keys and charge rent. KiKi fluffed her hair. “He is some kind of stud.”

“Thought you were married.”

“It’s like Cher says,
You don’t go looking for men, they just fall in your lap.
This morning I’m appreciating the fall. Who is he?”

“A banker. Hear anything from Putter?” I headed to the kitchen to get the money and set up business for the day.

KiKi called after me, “Putter misses my pot roast and Doc Hunky wants to see more of you. Don’t know quite how to take that but it sounds mighty interesting.”

“This is not going to be one of those interesting relationships.” I pulled out the Rocky Road container. “This is going to be a let’s-do-dinner, have-a-nice-chat, and I-get-the-doggie-bag relationship. Period.”

“Honey, with that hair you should take what you can get, but right now you got yourself some mighty unusual visitors coming your way.”

“Customers already! Do they have expensive pocketbooks? You can always tell a money-spending customer if she’s toting an expensive purse.”

“Two cops, Detective Ross, and they’re toting badges and unfriendly expressions.”

My stomach jumped to my throat. I hurried in from the kitchen and KiKi grabbed my shoulders. She looked me dead in the eyes. “Detective Ross is not here to pick out a new wardrobe, is she. What in the world have you gone and done now to have the police here first thing in the morning?”

“There may have been a dead body over at Simon’s place last night and Chantilly and I sort of stumbled across it.” KiKi and I made the sign of the cross for the dead body.

“And you didn’t call the police?”

“They came of their own accord and hanging around a corpse didn’t seem like a good idea at the time so we left.”

“Who was it?”

“Suellen, that waitress from over at the Pirate House with the side ponytail and blue eye shadow.”

“And I’m just now hearing of it?” KiKi slapped her palm to her forehead. “This is what I get for forgetting to turn my phone back on and checking my tweets. Your mamma’s running for office, remember? Family drama does not get people elected, it gets them on
The Daily Show
with snide comments and unflattering pictures. If she finds out about this, she’ll have a canary.”

“Can we send her on a cruise?”

Detective Ross and the policemen strode onto the porch and Auntie KiKi followed me out to meet them. Ross nodded to Pillsbury, then her gaze landed on me, her expression way less friendly. Not a good sign when the police greet you with less congeniality than the local gang member. “How do you keep winding up in the middle of things?” Ross grumbled.

“There’s a full moon.”

She walked over to Chantilly. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Suellen Hamilton.”

“No!” Chantilly said, holding up her hands defensively and taking a few steps in retreat. “This is not fair. I didn’t do it, I swear. I hid in a Dumpster for crying out loud. No way could you have seen me. I suffered through bugs and slop and creepy things I’ll be dreaming about for months, and my car has roaches in it and—”

Pillsbury clamped his sizable hand over Chantilly’s mouth. “Babe,” he said in the deep calming voice of someone who knew the police drill. “You need to chill. Don’t say another word now, you hear.”

I ran our escape route in my brain. Chantilly was right, there was no way the cops saw us. They would have given chase and nailed us in that alley if they had. “What makes you think Chantilly killed Suellen, because she didn’t. Why would she? She didn’t even know the girl.”

“How can you be sure about that?”

Because she told me when she saw the body
was on the edge of my tongue till I caught a warning glance from Pillsbury. “Just a guess.”

“Guess again,” Ross said. “Chantilly’s fingerprints were on the murder weapon.”

“I was giving myself a mani-pedi.” Chantilly pointed to her peep-toe sandals and held out her fingers, all twenty nails broken and chipped from the Dumpster dive.

Ross looked at me. “Unless you have one heck of a good alibi between ten and midnight I got a feeling you’re mixed up in this someway.”

“There was this guy trying to strangle me.”

• • •

The interrogation room was putrid green, the table gross and sticky. The worst part was that this was no surprise because I’d been here before. On second thought that wasn’t the worst part of this whole affair at all, not even close, because Mamma came through the door in her perfect navy suit, cream blouse, and coiffured hair with natural silver streaks.

“Reagan, what’s going on?”

I should have stayed in the Dumpster. “How did you know I was here?” Mamma took the seat across from me.

“Honey, what did you do to wind up in this place?”

Those were the exact same words she used in Principal Stiller’s office when I got caught skinny-dipping in the high school pool. That the rest of the soccer team managed to get away scot-free should have been a warning that a life of crime or almost crime was not for me. I never was good at warnings. “Well, there was this dead body.”

Mamma looked pained. In my thirty-two years of life there’d been quite a few
oh honeys
and pained looks.

“Detective Ross doesn’t have anything on me. She’s trying to pin the murder on a good friend of mine because her fingerprints just happen to be on the murder weapon. There are other suspects; I just have to make Detective Ross aware of them.”

Mamma nodded. “My guess this murder is connected to the one out at the plantation?”

I took Mamma’s hand. “I’ll try to keep things on the down low and not sabotage your chances for alderman and I’ll keep Auntie KiKi safe though I don’t think I’ve got a prayer of carrying off that last part.”

Mamma grinned. “Do the best you can on that score.” She checked her watch. “I have to get to court. Don’t fret over the alderman election, you just do what you have to. If you need anything, anything at all, call me and don’t let my sister talk you into a bunch of trouble.” Mamma kissed me on the cheek. “That’s what she used to do to me all the time and you be sure and tell her I said so.”

Mamma opened the door then looked back, her expression serious. “I’m not going to try and talk you out of helping a friend because that’s who you are. But you need to be right careful, Reagan; one hand for your friend, and one for yourself.” She gave me a little wink then left. I let out a pent-up lungful of air, and relaxed. Not that I was afraid Mamma would yell and throw a hissy, that was not her way. Even though she was a judge and a lot of times my
judgment sucked, we saw eye to eye on most things, my marrying Hollis being one of the great exceptions. My biggest concern at the moment was that I’d disappoint her. Least that
was
my biggest concern till Walker Boone came through the door, hands in pockets, holier-than-thou smirk firmly in place, and the last person on earth I wanted to see.

“What mess have you gotten yourself into this time, Blondie?”

“W
HAT
are you doing here?” I asked Boone when he sat down across from me. “Just happen to be in the neighborhood and thought you’d catch up with the local felons and the soon to be incarcerated?”

“Pillsbury called. Said Chantilly was booked on her second murder in less than a week and you were keeping her company. Couldn’t turn that one down, now could I?”

“Someone’s out to frame Chantilly and right now it’s not all that hard to do. She’s innocent this time just like before, though I doubt you or anyone else around here believe me.”

“I believe you’re loyal to a fault and would jump under a bus before you threw a friend there.”

“Chantilly didn’t even know Suellen; why would she kill her?” I pushed back my chair and paced, sitting still driving me nuts. “Chantilly got a text to come to Simon’s condo for information that would prove she didn’t kill the man. We went in and found the body.”

“We?”

“There’s a murderer running around and it’s a little scary going to meet someone you don’t know at midnight. Chantilly came to get me. We went to Simon’s and there was Suellen. I wonder who called the cops?”

“Ross said that someone in the building heard a scuffle and yelling.”

“See, there you go. There was no scuffle or yelling. The door was open so we went in. The body was on the couch and . . . Wait a minute,” I said, my brain starting to function. “My guess it that whoever killed Suellen was watching the condo. When Chantilly and I got there they called the police.” I spun around and faced Boone. “Chantilly still has that text message that said to come to the condo on her phone. That proves someone set her up, got her there to pin the murder on her.”

“Not quite.” Boone sat back in his chair, looking as if he were at Tubby’s having lunch. “The cops think Suellen saw Chantilly kill Simon. Suellen tried to blackmail Chantilly and Chantilly panicked and whacked Suellen over the head with Simon’s Employee of the Year trophy.”

“The trophy? You have got to be kidding.”

“Like I could make that one up. The cops traced the text on Chantilly’s phone. It came from Suellen’s phone, and no one can find it. The cops think that after the murder Chantilly texted her own phone from Suellen’s, then ditched it. That would make it look as if Chantilly got set up. She got you involved to add substance to her story.”

I leaned across the table. “You really think UPS Chantilly could come up with that big, detailed, well-thought-out plan after killing Suellen and being scared half to death? This is way beyond riding a horse naked, this is the work of someone who took time and planned the whole thing beginning to end to frame Chantilly. She’s at the top of the list for Simon’s murder. It’s easy to stretch that into two murders. Doesn’t that smack of a little too convenient?”

“Chantilly has motive, method, and the opportunity for killing Suellen. She knew the code for Simon’s building and probably still had the key. And there’re fingerprints.”

“Chantilly was in that condo a week ago having a last-minute coronary over Simon marrying Waynetta.”

“That adds to her motive for killing Simon in the first place. It all goes to motive.”

“Are they going to arrest me, too?”

“The only thing you’re guilty of is stupidity. A strangler? That’s the best you could come up with for an alibi?”

I shrugged.

Boone’s brows arched and he sat straight in his chair. “It’s true?”

“For heaven’s sake, Boone, it’s all true. Every single word I’ve told you, and I have no idea how to prove it or find the real killer. Any suggestions?”

“None you want to hear. You were run off the road, attacked, and now set up for murder. I think it’s time you butt out and let the cops do their work.”

“Would you butt out?”

“I’m me and you’re you and I’m not going to be the one to put your neck in a noose. Stay out of trouble for a change. Go home, sell some clothes.”

Go home? Sell clothes!
I braced my arms on the table and met Boone eyeball to eyeball. “I’m going to find this killer and I don’t need your help to do it.”

I grabbed up Old Yeller, slammed the door behind me, paid homage to the nearest vending machine, and walked out of the station. This time the police would hold Chantilly without bail, I was sure of it. I was exhausted from no sleep and a sucky night of hide-and-seek in the Dumpster. With the police station on Bull Street and Cherry House a good forty-five-minute hike away, I ate my Kit Kat and headed for the bus stop as a gray SUV pulled up beside me, the window powering down.

Pillsbury stuck his head out the window. “Coffee?”

“Throw in a burger and you got yourself a deal.”

“See Chantilly?” Pillsbury asked as I got in.

“No. I hate this.” I broke my Kit Kat in half and shared, Pillsbury popping the offering in his mouth.

“I’ll drop by, see how she’s doing,” he said around a mouthful of candy. “Give her survival tips. I got cop friends who owe me.”

“You got them a good price on a hot car?”

“Good advice on a hot stock.”

“Maybe you should stay away from Chantilly.”

I got a hard look in return that made me reconsider whom I was talking to. “You and her dad duking it out during visiting hours isn’t going to help her case, you know. Why were you at Simon’s wedding?”

Pillsbury’s jaw clenched. “Chantilly caused a commotion once naked and chances good she’d repeat the performance one way or another. She was hung up on that Simon dude. You don’t like me much, do you?”

“I know you like Chantilly and would do anything to have her for yourself.”

“Like off Simon?” Pillsbury laughed deep in his throat, a sinister grin curling his lips. “That part no sweat, but I don’t let my woman go down for my deeds. You best be thinking who you give orders to, white woman.”

He pulled up for a traffic light and I hopped out of the SUV, the friendly portion of our conversation having come and gone. I swallowed, trying not to look petrified. “I’m doing what I think is best for Chantilly.”

Pillsbury jabbed his finger in my direction. “Don’t much care for what you saying, you got that.”

“Just stay away from her for now.” The light changed and Pillsbury drove off. Well gee, here it was a little after twelve and so far I’d gotten threats from Sugar-Ray, told Boone to take a flying leap, and royally ticked off the hood. It was shaping up to be quite a day. Being that I was a quart low on caffeine and trans fats and a block away from Cakery Bakery, I decided on a detour. Maybe Percy had some information other than that GracieAnn was the love of his life.

Savannah in the summer is living under one giant canopy of oaks and awnings. Walking from one to the other was the only way to survive. I started to open the door to the bakery and caught sight of Tipper Longford sitting alone at one of the outside tables off to the side, his gray Confederate hat kittywhumpus on his head, his face buried in his hands. Not that Tipper and I were BFFs but something was wrong. Besides, how could I turn my back on a soldier so ready to defend this fine city?

“Are you okay?” I asked Tipper, taking the seat across from him.

He looked up, eyes bloodshot and sad. “She’s gone.”

“Delta?”

“Lordy, no. That woman’s still alive and kicking. It’s the good who die young. My Suellen is gone. Delta will live forever. How could such a thing happen?”

In the mad dash to find Chantilly innocent I completely forgot about Tipper and Suellen. Last time I saw them together at the Pirate House they were all smiles and snapping pictures. Tipper sniffed. “The only consolation is that the police found the person who killed her. They say it was the same girl who killed Simon.” He gazed at the bakery. “I was happy here once, but that was a long time ago when Delta and I were first married. We sort of just drifted apart. Now I have no one.”

“Did Suellen ever mention Simon?”

A tear slid down Tipper’s cheek, which he quickly wiped away. “The police think Suellen must have seen Simon’s killer at the wedding then got herself killed so she wouldn’t tell who it was.”

Meaning your little girlfriend was into blackmail and extortion
. Not that Tipper needed to hear that right now. “Want me to bring you out some water or sweet tea?”

“Don’t tell Delta I’m here; she wouldn’t like it. We’d just fight and I’m not up for it right now. I didn’t know where else to go and I’ve always loved the bakery. The person who runs it, not so much.”

I went inside and eyed the one and only sprinkle doughnut, just waiting for me in the display case. For sure it was the best thing to happen to me all morning. GracieAnn cut off my mouthwatering view with, “Well now, looks like your friend, Chantilly, got herself into even more trouble. Imagine that.”

“What?”

GracieAnn grinned, a sinister glint in her eyes. “I hear she got arrested for killing off that waitress at the Pirate House and she’s sitting in the slammer this very minute just where she belongs.” GracieAnn tipped her chin and folded her arms. “Guess there’ll be none of her getting out this time.”

“Except she’s innocent,” I said, peeking around GracieAnn to Delta slipping
my
sprinkle doughnut into a white pastry bag and handing it off to another customer. You weren’t supposed to cry over spilled milk and I figured that applied to lost doughnuts as well, but I was sorely tempted.

“What goes around comes around,” GracieAnn droned on. “I do believe justice is served right well now and you’ll have to accept that.”

Sounded like Walker Boone, part two. I wasn’t in the mood for him or GracieAnn. “Did you ever get over to Boone’s office to talk about the case? He’s been wondering where you are. You should catch up with him at his house. He spends a lot of time there.” I grabbed the pink order pad and cupcake pencil from her apron and jotted down the address. “Big white house with geraniums and petunias. Just keep going back till you connect with him. He’d consider it a personal favor.”

GracieAnn’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t have anything good to say about Chantilly. Why are you sending me to Boone? I’ll just prove her guiltier, and I thought he was out to prove her innocent.” A sassy grin pulled at her thin lips. “But I wouldn’t mind spending a little time with that man all the same. He sure is fine.”

I held up my hands all little Miss Righteous. “Boone just wants to get at the truth. It’s the way he is. Like you said, what goes around comes around. You should know he talks about you. I told him you were coming to call and he said, ‘
Me?’
” I didn’t see any reason to add the
why
in front of the
me
.

“Is that right.” GracieAnn smoothed back her hair that didn’t need smoothing since it was trapped under a net. She strutted off humming what sounded remarkably like “Happy Days Are Here Again.” Either she was a closet Democrat or tickled pink about seeing Boone. For sure I was tickled pink about her seeing Boone but it made me wonder about her loyalty to Percy.

The undercover repairman was nowhere in sight. I’d have to catch up with him later. I bought two glazed doughnuts always in abundant supply at any bakery and added a supposedly low-fat brownie for Auntie KiKi. I never really trusted the no-fat part. My food philosophy was if it tasted good, it landed on your hips no matter what the sign said. I left the bakery and gave Tipper one of the doughnuts. He took a few bites and gave me a little smile. He looked a little better, a bit more relaxed. I headed down Broughton and pulled out the other doughnut just as Percy yanked me into a side gravel alley between the bakery and the art supply store.

“How’s Chantilly doing?” he asked.

“I think I just chipped a tooth. Chantilly’s getting strip-searched and fitted for a new wardrobe of bright orange. I’d say her day’s pretty crappy.”

Percy wrung his hands together, worry creasing his forehead. “I’m not having much luck getting information on the real killer. Mostly this place is just a bakery with lots of butter and sugar. I’ve put on five pounds.” Percy pinched his middle to show his flab.

“Delta seems pleased that Tipper’s girlfriend got knocked off,” he went on. “GracieAnn thinks those two were fooling around when Delta and Tipper were still married, though best I can tell it wasn’t a great marriage anyway for a lot of years. Maybe I should give it up here and work Chantilly’s case with you; the girl’s in a world of hurt. I could be asking questions like I was before instead of just fixing stuff that’s not really broken.”

Oh, Lordy. I’d stirred up enough problems on my own without bringing Percy onboard. “See if you can find out if there was any connection between Simon and Suellen. There was some reason she was at his condo. How are things with you and GracieAnn?”

Percy rubbed his chin. “Well, she’s a little possessive. Yesterday she saw me chatting with Pastor Liz. GracieAnn followed me home and parked outside my apartment in the bakery truck for two hours just staring at my window.”

“You sure it was GracieAnn?”

“Cakes and pies painted on the sides, but I was too afraid to go check it out for sure. GracieAnn and Delta are the only ones who drive that truck. It’s a little scary, don’t you think?”