Dying for Dinner Rolls Read online

  Annie Mae and I stopped in our tracks.

  We turned around to face Ina.

  “Were you home last week, the day Lucy died?” I asked.

  Ina nodded. “Yes. And I think she had forgotten her key.”

  “Why do you think that?” Annie Mae said.

  “My kitchen window looks into her backyard. Her kitchen is in the rear of her house like mine is.” Ina trailed off. “A lot of houses around here are built that way. Nice and solid, too. Not like the new houses these days that look like they’ll fall apart if the wind blows.”

  “And you saw Lucy the same night she died?” I offered, hoping to get Ina back on track.

  “Oh, yes. She must have forgotten her key. I saw her climb in her kitchen window.” Ina narrowed her eyes. “At least I think it was Lucy.”

  “You don’t know for sure?” Annie Mae enunciated loud and clear.

  “It was almost dusk. Not too dark, but still, for me, it was a little hard to see.”

  “You saw a female climbing in the window?” I asked. “Although you’re not sure who?”

  “It looked like Lucy, but then again, it could have been someone else. I never thought about that.” Ina pulled her sweater tighter around her.

  It could be one hundred degrees, like today, and old ladies still wore sweaters. Like they had broken internal thermostats always set on cold. “Is there anything else you remember?” I asked.

  “No. But a while later, there were police cars all around her house. Lots of commotion.” Ina’s glasses slipped down her nose.

  The sound of a phone ringing came from inside the house.

  “Your phone is ringing,” I told her.

  “I better get that,” Ina said.

  We said good-bye and left.

  Annie Mae turned to me as we left Ina’s house. “I think we can safely cross Ina off the suspect list.”

  “Agreed.” I fobbed to unlock my SUV and climbed in the driver’s seat.

  “That lady is too fragile to smash a spider.” Annie Mae sat down.

  “What about Ina seeing someone climbing in Lucy’s house the night she died?”

  “Who was it?” Annie Mae buckled up.

  “Bert?”

  “No. He has a key.”

  “Right. And it couldn’t have been Lucy. When she left to get the dinner rolls, I remember she had keys in her hand.” I bit my bottom lip. “Then again, she could’ve gone in her backyard for some reason and accidentally locked herself out, so she had to climb through the window to get back in.”

  “Yes. But what if it wasn’t her?” Annie Mae adjusted her shirt.

  “Then?”

  “That leaves the killer.”

  I locked eyes with Annie Mae. “Susie.”

  “So Susie climbed through the window, to do what? Kill Lucy?” Annie Mae tapped her fingers on the door. “She’d have to know that Lucy was there. Remember, Lucy was not supposed to be home. She had planned to be with us all night. Until she decided to go back for the rolls.”

  I twisted the ring around my thumb. “I know. I’m trying to understand why Susie was there. Maybe Susie lost her lipstick during an earlier clandestine visit with Bert. And she wanted to go back and get it before Lucy found it. And that night, Lucy surprised Susie, and Susie panicked and killed her.”

  Annie Mae looked deep in thought as her brows furrowed. “Hmm, possible.”

  “Maybe Lucy had already found it.” I ran through some scenarios as I clenched and unclenched my hands around the steering wheel.

  “What are you getting at?”

  “I’m just thinking out loud.” I turned on the air, folded my arms on the steering wheel, and put my head down.

  “Are you okay?” Annie Mae’s hand touched my back.

  “One minute, I feel like we’re close, then the next, we seem a million miles away.” I sat up. “I’m trying to figure out what would’ve happened if Lucy found Susie’s lipstick.”

  “So, you think Lucy chose her husband’s mistress’s lipstick to write the fake suicide note with?”

  “Oh, right. Not likely.”

  “Here’s another thought. Susie killed Lucy, then wrote the note with her own pink lipstick, and—” Annie Mae stopped midsentence. “Now that I just heard that out loud, it sure doesn’t sound like a smart move at all.”

  I shook my head. “No. It doesn’t.”

  “Susie seemed pretty smart. After all, even with my great acting, she figured out that I didn’t really trip.” Annie Mae turned her hands over.

  I rubbed my temples. “We can’t rule out Susie just yet. Let’s think about this. She could’ve panicked after she killed Lucy and written the note with her own lipstick by mistake.”

  “Yeah. Maybe Lucy had it in her purse after finding it. Maybe later, Lucy wanted to confront Bert about it. But she was killed before she had a chance to. And Susie just grabbed the lipstick from Lucy’s purse, not realizing it was her very own.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “How does Bert fit into this?”

  My head spun. I felt like we were going in circles.

  Annie Mae held a finger up. “On the other hand, maybe he was there. And helped Susie kill her.”

  “Or he did it himself.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past that jerk. Like I’ve said before, if a wife dies unexpectedly, it’s usually the husband who did it.” Annie Mae clicked her seat belt on. “Where to?”

  Suddenly I felt that I had to call Andrew and ask if he’d ever kill me. It’s like a medical student who studies symptoms and diseases and then he thinks he has each one. All this detective work had started to make me think that I could get murdered next.

  “Give me a second. I’m calling Andrew.” I dialed one on my phone.

  Annie Mae nodded.

  Andrew picked up. “Hey, hon, are you okay?”

  “Do you think Bert could’ve killed Lucy? Or for that matter, that any husband could kill his wife?” I blurted out.

  “Hello to you, too.” Andrew laughed.

  “So?”

  A long sigh. “You’re killing me.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “I love you with all my heart. There’s your answer. I would never harm you. I can’t speak for other husbands and how they feel about their wives.”

  “Love you, too.” I ended the call.

  “So?” Annie Mae asked.

  I shook my hand. “This whole sleuth thing is making me paranoid. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

  “Then let’s stop.”

  “Maybe we should. Where has this gotten us so far? Almost burnt like marshmallows. Chased out of a grocery store. Oh, and Bert threatened to put a restraining order on us.”

  “Stellar day, huh?”

  “Stellar?”

  “We did get a lot of attention from the dumpster thing.” Annie Mae looked in the passenger visor’s mirror. She patted her hair. “I kind of liked the celebrity status.”

  “I could do without it.”

  “You know, I think we’re really a great team. Too bad Bezu is missing out.”

  “Maybe she’s better off.”

  My phone sounded with a text. “Looks like Cynthia came through.”

  “What does it say?”

  I read it out loud to Annie Mae. “Revlon. Super Lustrous. Fuchsia Shock.”

  Chapter 16

  We went to the local Walgreens, bought the lipstick, and then we called José. He told us to meet him in the parking lot near the Forsyth Park tennis courts.

  Annie Mae and I got there just after six in the evening. José pulled up in a white Explorer with the words Savannah Police Department on the side.

  Annie Mae and I got out of my SUV and greeted José.

  I handed him the lipstick.

  “First, I’m surprised to still see you in your dumpster diving outfits.” José twisted the stick up. “Second, this is not my color.”

  “Funny, José.” Annie Mae eyed him. “Although, with your olive skin tone, I can
see you in more of a maroon or red.”

  José cleared his throat. “Cat, you asked me to look into recent deaths of anyone who lived near Jones Street.”

  “And?” I asked, my heart accelerating in anticipation.

  José looked down at his phone. “There was a hit-and-run that killed a gentleman who lived on Jones. The accident happened the same day as the date on the newspaper Lucy found.”

  I wondered if that was the person for whom the second crossword puzzle had been meant.

  “Holy smokes.” Annie Mae’s mouth hung open.

  “Who was he?” My voice rose.

  José glanced at me, then at Annie Mae. He looked down at his cell. “Michael Esker, age sixty-three, owned Quickie Loan & Pawn. He was a Grand Knight at the Knights of Columbus. He suffered a fatality after a hit-and-run on the corner of Clary’s while he headed to his Wednesday morning Bible study. One eyewitness saw an older-model green sedan, a Lincoln or Buick, driving away from the scene. But that’s our only lead.”

  “Poor guy.” Annie Mae sighed.

  “That name sounds familiar.” I ran through people my dad’s age in my mind. “Esker. Esker. I think I knew him, but I can’t remember from where.”

  José held up the lipstick. “I’ll get this analyzed against the lipstick on Lucy’s note and the message from your windshield.”

  “I really appreciate it.” I gave José a hug, but because of his height, I hugged his waist with my head on his chest. “I don’t want you to get fired over it.”

  José patted my back. He smelled sweet and spicy. “No problem. I have a buddy in the forensics laboratory who owes me a favor. Trust me, he’ll do it without anyone finding out.”

  With a wave, José climbed in his Explorer and drove out of the parking lot.

  Rounding the corner by the tennis courts, Mr. Phong had headphones on and sang out loudly as he strode on the path. “All da move like da Jagger. I got the mooove like a Jagger.” He nearly bumped into Annie Mae and me.

  I stepped out of the way and made eye contact with Mr. Phong. I smiled and waved. He grinned from ear to ear and waved back. I noticed a ruby-stoned ring on his finger as he flapped his hand and nodded. He continued walking and singing.

  “That is one strange cat,” Annie Mae said. “But he sure seems like a happy guy.”

  Annie Mae and I got in my SUV. It was after six in the evening. “I wonder if my mom knew Michael Esker.”

  “The Grand Poobah?”

  “He was a Grand Knight, not a Flintstone.” I grinned.

  “I’m going across the street to the Sentient Bean and grab a scone. You want anything?” Annie Mae started to get out.

  “No, thanks.” I hoped I wouldn’t lose my dear friend to a heart attack the way she’d lost her husband, who’d had the same junk food addiction. We’d had this conversation, and she always said that she knew how to eat right and that one day she would.

  I started the engine and put the air on. My phone rang. The caller ID said “Mom.” I picked up.

  Yunni said, “What you doing? All my friends call me to tell me about you and the fire. You okay?”

  The Sunshine Market closed at six. I knew her routine. She was cooking dinner and watching the news. “I’m fine. I was just thinking of calling you. You’re at home, right?”

  “Yes. Why you ask?”

  “I’m at Forsyth Park.”

  “You are close. Come to my house. I fix dinner for you. Making your favorite, Bulgogi. Is Annie Mae with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “She come, too. Lots of food.”

  “No, thanks, not tonight.”

  “Okay, fine, you miss out. Tadcu come here for dinner. Your boys, too. Maybe none left after. So no problem.”

  “Another time, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “Listen, do you remember a Michael Esker?”

  “I read in newspaper. He died.”

  “Yes, I just found out.”

  “I talked to some friends. Found out he hit by car. Very sad,” Yunni said.

  “I know. But did you know him?” I asked.

  “Yes. Your father business partner,” Yunni said.

  “Business partner?” I repeated, my voice rising. “For Sunshine Market?”

  “Different business before store. Didn’t work out.”

  I felt blindsided. I had no idea there’d been another enterprise before Sunshine Market. My parents never failed to surprise me. There was a good chance my kids would find out things about me after I died that they had never known before, even though I felt like an open book. “What kind of business?”

  “Cars. Rebuilding, trading. Buying, selling. Complicated. Lots of time at junkyards and auctions. Dirty.”

  “So Dad and Michael worked together?”

  “And three more men.”

  “Who were they?”

  “Let me think.” Yunni took a deep breath. “Davy O’Brien, Micky Zwick, and Peter Matthews.”

  “What happened to the business?”

  “Your dad not talk too much about what happened. But he got out. They all did. No matter. After all that, your dad made money from some investment, and we started our store. Oh, honey, my food going to burn.”

  I tried to wrap my head around why both my dad and another former business associate were now dead within two months of each other. Was there a connection or just coincidence? Was the crossword puzzle somehow related to both deaths? I needed to talk to O’Brien, Zwick, and Matthews. “Okay, Mom, thanks. Love you.”

  “You, too. Plenty of food if you change mind.” She clicked off.

  My phone buzzed. Low battery. I plugged it into the car charger.

  Annie Mae opened the passenger door. She had a scone in one hand and a drink in the other. She handed me her drink. “Can you grab this?”

  I put the drink in the holder as Annie Mae sat down. “My mom just called.”

  “How is she?”

  “Good. She invited us to dinner.”

  Annie Mae held up the scone. “Too late.”

  “I told her next time.” I stared out the window, my eyes transfixed on a spot on my windshield. “My phone is almost dead. Can you look up a Davy O’Brien, Micky Zwick, and Peter Matthews for me, please?”

  “Who are they?” Annie Mae tapped her phone.

  I went over my conversation with my mom while turning my dad’s wedding band on my thumb.

  A few minutes later, Annie Mae looked over at me. “Cat. Davy O’Brien is dead.”

  My stomach took a free fall. “Can you find out what happened?”

  A few minutes later, Annie Mae said, “He died last month. It looks like an accident. He fell from a building on Bay Street. Freaky, huh?”

  A chill ran over my entire body. Even my hair felt like it stood on end. I could barely speak. Was someone killing off all of the partners in my dad’s car business? “What about Zwick and Matthews?”

  Annie Mae tapped her iPhone. She turned toward me. “Can’t find anything on Peter Matthews. But it looks like Micky Zwick is still in Savannah and, as far as I can ascertain, still alive.”

  “How do you know he’s still alive?”

  “No obituary on him.” Annie Mae continued to tap her phone. “Still can’t find anything on Matthews, just Zwick.”

  I felt a wave of calm wash over me. “Can you find an address for Zwick?”

  A moment later, Annie Mae looked up. “Forty-nine Barnard Street. We can walk from here.”

  I shut off the car. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 17

  “At this pace, I’ll burn off that scone,” Annie Mae huffed. “But you need to slow down. I can’t keep up with you.”

  My natural stride tended to be pretty brisk. Andrew and the kids were always telling me to slow down. I came to a halt when I realized I was speed walking. “Sorry.”

  “What’s the rush?” Annie Mae stopped, leaning over and panting. “Is something on fire?”

  I paused. “Just glad it’s not us.�
��

  “I hear you.” Annie Mae stood straight. “Okay, then, dial your pace back a few notches. We’ll get there just the same.”

  We waited at the corner of Park to cross over Whitaker.

  Cars whooshed by while birds chirped in the tree above us. On the playground, the sounds of kids’ laughter filled the air. A few joggers went by. The scent of freshly cut grass filled the air.

  A green car coming toward us seemed to speed up as it neared. Just before it reached us, it ran up on the curb where we stood. Instinctively, I grabbed Annie Mae and yanked her back. She lost her balance, falling into an azalea bush with me half on top of her as the car swerved back onto the street.

  Finding my footing, I dislodged leaves from my shirt as I wedged my way to a standing position. I held my hand out. Annie Mae grabbed it and pulled herself up. She had some twigs in her hair. Her pants hung below her waist.

  Annie Mae grabbed my arm, her eyes open wide. “I think you just saved my life.”

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Thanks to you, I’m not road kill.” She let go of my arm and pulled up her pants.

  I raced to the corner and looked down the street, hoping to catch the make and the model of the car or the license plate. I walked back to Annie Mae. “They’re gone.”

  “Cat, you don’t think that car meant to hit us, do you?”

  “I don’t know. José said that a green sedan killed Michael Esker. And it was a green car that just jumped the curb and almost got us. Coincidence or not?” My stomach churned as though bubbling acid percolated in it.

  Annie Mae brushed her shirt. Azalea leaves fell from her. “I guess it wouldn’t surprise me with all that has happened today.”

  “Me either.”

  Annie Mae pulled her shoulders back. “It’s been an exciting day, hasn’t it?”

  My legs felt restless, as though I needed to run. And keep on running as though someone were chasing me. But who was it?

  Chapter 18

  “Should we call José about us almost getting run over?” Annie Mae strode alongside me as we crossed Whitaker Street.