Dying for Dinner Rolls Page 14

  Bezu placed a ladle in the chili. Next to the pot of chili was a plate stacked with cornbread. A container with butter sat next to a glass pitcher of iced tea. “I don’t want this conversation to get as ugly as ten miles of bad road, but we have to talk about how y’all almost got killed trying to be detectives.”

  “We were on our first case. And it was quite a success.” Annie Mae spread a hunk of butter on top of her cornbread and then poured chili on top.

  “I wouldn’t exactly say that.” José stretched his arms behind his head.

  “But we caught a killer. It doesn’t matter how we went about it, right?” I filled my glass with iced tea.

  “It does.” José let out a deep breath. “Where do I begin? You committed several felonies. Including breaking and entering.”

  “Scarlett’s office?” Annie Mae asked.

  “And trespassing,” José said.

  “Where?” I asked.

  “The construction dumpster is not public property, and you two entered it, then nearly got fried. Let’s just say there were a slew of wrongs.”

  “Oh.” Annie Mae looked down at her plate.

  José leaned his elbow on the table. “Impersonating an officer.”

  “I forgot about that.” Annie Mae put a bite of food in her mouth. “We couldn’t really hear your answer because of a siren, so I can claim that as just a miscommunication.”

  José continued, “And committing fraud.”

  “We never did that.” I picked up my fork.

  “Not you, exactly. But our resident actress. Remember the fall in the Red and White?” José twisted a grin as he inclined his head toward Annie Mae.

  “It wasn’t like we were trying to extract money from anyone. We were just trying to get information.” Annie Mae wiggled her fork in the air. “And we succeeded.”

  José reached over, plucked a piece of cornbread, and put it on his plate. “What I’m trying to say is I love you girls, and you almost got yourselves killed. Putting yourself in danger is inexcusable.”

  “We never thought we’d end up with a gun pointed at us. Scarlett seemed so prissy. Who knew she was packing?” Annie Mae held her hands up.

  I shrugged. Andrew and my mom were sick at the thought of someone with a gun aimed at me. However, they were glad we’d avenged Lucy’s death and that Annie Mae and I were safe.

  Bezu straightened her back in her chair. “I agree with José. You two were not using the good sense God gave you.”

  “And that needs to be the end of whatever that was.” José held the palm of his hand facing us.

  “But we put a murderer behind bars.” Annie Mae put another spoonful of chili in her mouth.

  “Breaking the law is breaking the law. Thankfully, you don’t have any charges against you. I’m sure if it was anyone else but me coming to your rescue at Susie’s house, you would have been taken into custody.” José buttered his cornbread.

  “That would have been a hoot if we were thrown in jail—even better, in the same cell as Scarlett.” Annie Mae wiped her mouth with the linen napkin. “I can’t wait to visit her in a few months.”

  “She’s a murderer. Why in the Lord’s name would you want to see her?” Bezu asked.

  “Not her per se. Her face. Can you imagine what she will look like after a few months with no cosmetic injections and such? I bet she will age ten years in the span of a few weeks.” Annie Mae giggled. “That I want to see.”

  “The judge is setting her bond today. With all the evidence, she should be in jail a long time,” José said.

  “Wasn’t it cool, too, that the vase turned out to be from the Ming Dynasty?” I tore off some of my cornbread and then plopped it into my mouth.

  “The Ming Dynasty. Absolutely amazing,” Bezu said.

  “Once the news showed a picture of the vase, a museum expressed interest in purchasing it. It’s worth over twenty million,” Annie Mae said.

  “You can’t make that kind of money in fifty lifetimes.” José shook his head.

  I added, “Even better, if they acquire the vase, they would have a plaque displayed next to it with Lucy’s name in her memory.”

  “Now that is super neat.” Annie Mae put her napkin on the table.

  “Best of all, after taxes, the money will be split between Lucy’s church and the humane society, per Lucy’s will. And she ended up leaving them way more than she ever thought, not knowing about the vase and all,” I said.

  “That cheating scum, Bert, was left with the house.” Annie Mae scowled. “Too bad he got anything.”

  “Good or bad, he was her husband,” Bezu said. “So he should have been left something.”

  “A pile of garbage would have been better,” Annie Mae argued.

  “The Blue Belle Antique Shoppe is temporarily closed, although I heard rumors that Zachary’s family wants to buy it and let him run it,” I said.

  “He’s a sweet kid. I bet he’ll do a great job,” Annie Mae said. “I wonder if he could get me the silver windup clock and candle?”

  “I’m sure he could.” I grinned.

  “Looks like we made the front page of the newspaper, our pictures and a great article and all.” Annie Mae slid the Savannah Morning News to me as we sat around Bezu’s dining room table. “I think I should’ve at least gotten that hundred-dollar candle as a reward. But I did take her plant I named JC; after all, I couldn’t let him die in her office. Plus, my plant Marvin Gaye needed a friend.”

  I grinned. “Solving Lucy’s murder was reward enough for me.”

  Bezu looked at the newspaper. “You’re celebrities. What a good photo of both of you.”

  “You did take a great picture,” José added.

  “I do photograph well.” Annie Mae patted her hair. “Now I have so many people calling me, acting like I’m the queen bee of Savannah. It’s great. This has to be a boon for my dating life. Speaking of dates, Tadcu is picking me up for the movies soon. I think your mom is coming with. She wants to see the movie, too.”

  “Good. They really think you and I are quite the team. And my girls absolutely loved that I solved a crime like Nancy Drew.” I smirked. “To them, I’m a hero.”

  “What about the boys?” Bezu asked me.

  “They thought the whole episode was kind of cool. Except for the gun pointing at me. We didn’t tell the girls about the gun. They’d have nightmares, mostly because of what happened to their grandfather.” I filled my glass with iced tea.

  “No kidding. It gave me nightmares thinking of you and Annie Mae putting yourselves in such danger.” Bezu wrung her hands. “Don’t ever go and do that type of fool thing again. Y’all acted like you had no sense.”

  José cleared his throat. “They sure stirred up the city. Getting stuck in a burning dumpster will go down in our unofficial police department history book of stupid people predicaments.”

  Looking over at me, Annie Mae lifted an eyebrow and smiled. “José, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  José stood and stretched his arms. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “Fine,” I said to José. “So maybe we did have a slightly unorthodox way of going about the investigation. We got the job done. And that’s what counts.”

  “I agree,” Annie Mae said. “We made a great team and put a killer behind bars.”

  I sipped on my iced tea. The cool, lemon-infused liquid tasted great.

  “I’m just glad that your makeshift detective days are over,” José said.

  “Andrew and Tadcu feel the same way you do, José.” I chuckled. “My mom, well, she just rattles off stuff in Korean at me while shaking her hands. Which I think means that she’s happy I’m safe but thinks I was crazy getting involved.”

  Although I still grieved for Lucy and my father, I knew at least Scarlett was paying for her crime. My dad’s murderer was still out there, but I felt that finding the second crossword puzzle meant I was somehow closer to finding my father’s killer.

  T
he doorbell rang. Bezu let in Tadcu and Yunni.

  Yunni wore white capris and a blue sleeveless top, her hair up in a loose bun. Tadcu wore a pressed, white, short-sleeved shirt and khaki slacks. His hair was slicked back.

  We all said our hellos.

  “We’re a little early. I hope we didn’t interrupt anything,” Tadcu said.

  “Not at all. We were just having some chili and catching up. Please, join us.” Bezu lifted two plates.

  “No, thank you. I already ate. Also, I want to get ice cream at Leonardo’s after the movie.” Yunni winked. “So I could check in on grandson, too.”

  “Mom, I don’t think Timmy needs any checking up on, but I know he’d love to see you.” I took a sip of tea.

  “Oh, here is extra paper for you. Nice picture of both of you.” Yunni waved the paper at Annie Mae and me.

  “Thanks.” I took the paper from my mom and put it in my purse.

  “I’ve got to go. It was nice seeing everyone again.” José looked at Annie Mae and me. “No more breaking and entering.”

  “We actually didn’t break anything. But we did enter and look. No crime in that.” Annie Mae tapped José on the arm. “Right?”

  My phone signaled a text. I read it out loud: “Dog lost. Can the Chubby Chicks Club find him for me? I will pay big money.”

  José stood and put his hands in the air. “I’m out of here.”

  Bezu shook her head and walked out of the room.

  Tadcu and Yunni both stared at Annie Mae and me as though we had lost our minds.

  Annie Mae said, “What type of dog and how much?”

  I shrugged. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to call them back, huh?”

  Chapter 24

  As I left Bezu’s house, I pulled the paper out of my purse. On opening the story about Annie Mae and me solving Lucy’s murder, I saw the headline next to our story. Prominent Lawyer, M. Zwick Dies. My heart skipped a beat.

  I sat down on Bezu’s front step and read the story. I had just talked to him the other day. He’d said that he was fine. I felt an overwhelming need to go over and pay my respects; after all, he’d said that he and my father were like brothers.

  I went to my house and grabbed a sympathy card. Since I lived close by, I decided to hand-deliver the card.

  Fifteen minutes later, I stood at Micky’s front door. I rang the bell.

  The door opened.

  Karen, her eyes red, was dressed in black. “Hi. Catherine, right?”

  “Yes. I just found out about Micky. I am so sorry.”

  “Please come in.” Karen led me into the front sitting room. Vases of flowers adorned tabletops. A side table held a stack of papers and cards. It smelled of flowers and coffee.

  “Can I get you anything?” Karen asked.

  “No, thank you. I just came by to pay my respects. I am so sorry.”

  “We all are. Micky was one of a kind.” Karen’s eyes welled up.

  “I just spoke with him the other day, and he said he was fine.”

  “I know. He was. It all happened so suddenly. I feel it’s all my fault.” Karen wrung her hands.

  “Why?”

  “I left him alone for an hour; he told me to go. He said that he was going to sleep. That I didn’t need to keep tabs on him,” Karen said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “He told me that he really didn’t need twenty-four-hour care. His doctor even said I needn’t be here all the time. I justI have been a part of the family for so long. I raised all his children. I was with him when his wife died. I—I mean…” Karen looked at me with pleading eyes.

  “You had a special relationship?” I offered.

  “Yes. Yes. I loved him.” A tear spilled down Karen’s cheek.

  I put an arm around her shoulder. “I am so sorry.”

  “I don’t understand. He was fine when I left. We had gotten out for a walk around the park. We’d even stopped for lunch. It was really one of his better days,” Karen said between sobs.

  She continued, “It doesn’t make sense. I had to run to the grocery store before it closed. He likes their organic dates and their peaches. It’s right around the corner by the park.”

  “The Sunshine Market?”

  “Why, yes, you know the store?”

  “My folks own it.”

  “He just loves your store.” Karen sucked in a breath. “I mean loved. It seems surreal that I am talking about him in the past tense.”

  “After my dad was killed, I still caught myself talking about him in the present tense.”

  “I don’t know how I’m going to make it through this.”

  “It’d be great if there were a pill or a spell of some sort that could wipe away all the pain and grief. Right?”

  Karen nodded as she wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.

  “I can’t tell you how many times I catch myself wanting to talk to him or enter the store thinking that I’d see him in his yellow apron stocking produce.” I felt the tug at my heart.

  “Can I be frank with you?”

  “Sure.”

  “Losing the one you love, well, it sucks.”

  I let out a long breath. “Yes, it does.”

  The doorbell rang.

  Karen reached for my hand. “Thank you, Catherine, for listening to me. I am sorry I spilled my sorry sob story on you.”

  I held her hand for a second. “No problem.”

  “Please, excuse me.” Karen left to answer the door. “You are welcome to stay. There are food and beverages in the kitchen. Please help yourself.”

  “Thanks.”

  Deciding it was time to leave, I retrieved the sympathy card from my purse and set it on top of the pile of papers on the sideboard.

  As I turned, my purse knocked down the stack, scattering it to the ground. I knelt down to pick up the sprawling mess.

  I gathered cards, letters, newspapers, and magazines addressed to Micky Zwick or Resident. One part of a newspaper was folded over. Opening the fold, I saw it was the crossword puzzle.

  My breath caught in my chest as I read the purple-inked squares that said, “Got You.”

  BOOK 2: When one of Bezu’s illegal boarders mysteriously dies and it looks like her muffins were the murder weapon, Bezu and her friend Cat must catch the killer before Bezu ends up in jail…or worse.

  TAP HERE to buy Murderous Muffins (Book 2)

  And to receive updates on my latest books, including upcoming novels in the Georgia Coast Cozy Mystery series, be sure to sign up for my free author newsletter at loislavrisa.com/newsletter.

  Murderous Muffins (Book 2 Excerpt)

  Chapter 1

  The oven’s digital temperature flashed zeros.

  “Doggone thing could make a preacher cuss.” I yanked out the muffin pan and slammed the oven shut. Setting the pan on the cooling rack, I poked a toothpick in the top of one of the chocolate-chip treats. Dry. Praise the Lord, at least they’d finished cooking before the oven went out again. The switch probably needed to be rewired.

  “Good thing you learned some fixer-upper techniques from YouTube,” I told myself.

  Continuing my morning routine, I reached in the refrigerator, which thankfully still worked, pulled out a glass pitcher of orange juice, and placed it on the table. After pouring the freshly brewed coffee into a warming carafe, I set out cups, glasses, silverware, and small plates. I placed crisp white linen napkins near the flowered heirloom dishes and rearranged the blue hydrangeas in the crystal vase in the center of the kitchen table. After straightening the yellow lace tablecloth to smooth out any wrinkles, I lined up the glasses and cups.

  Before my boarders woke, I returned to the walk-in pantry—which doubled as my makeshift bedroom. I gathered the tattered quilt and threadbare blanket. Folding the blanket, I set it on the small cot with the paper-thin mattress and placed my pillow on top of the pile. Closing the pantry door, I looked around my sunny yellow kitchen with ten-foot ceilings, splinter cracks in the plaster, and worn whitewashed pi
ne cupboards that stretched high above gray-speckled Formica countertops. As I walked, the heart pine floors creaked, a comforting sound that brought me back to my childhood. Hide-and-seek had had its challenges then because the seeker could always hear the telltale squeak in the floorboards, and the hider would be discovered in short order.

  Throughout my youth, I’d considered this house a castle, with me as the resident princess. With the help of my nanny, Hattie, I’d named our home Amia, which meant “beloved.”

  Sighing aloud, I put my hand on a yellow plaster wall as I rubbed my fingertips along the rough and brittle peeling paint. As a child, I’d taped my drawings on the very same wall. Every inch of this house seeped with memories of the generations of Gordons who had once lived here. Sometimes I could close my eyes and hear laughter floating from the sitting room, where my parents and grandparents had spent countless hours entertaining friends, family, and other visitors. The parlor was where Hattie and I would stay up late at night watching old movies, memorizing our favorite lines. “Amia, you are all I have left of my family, even if you’re falling apart. I’ll keep us together. I promise.”

  A quote from Citizen Kane popped into my head: “I can remember everything. That’s my curse, young man. It’s the greatest curse that’s ever been inflicted on the human race: memory.” How true that was.

  The doorbell chimed. Who could that be at 7:00 a.m.? Taking a quick glance at my reflection in the silver teakettle, I smoothed my flyaway blond hair and straightened the bow on my pale blue sundress. Good enough for this early in the morning.

  Upon opening the door, I saw my dear friend, Cat. Even at this hour, she looked adorable. Her pale skin and dark hair made her white teeth look even brighter. Half Korean and half Caucasian, Cat stood about five foot six, a few inches shorter than me. At forty, and after her two sets of twins, she had a remarkably cute figure.

  I stood five foot ten, slender, with wispy, shoulder-length blond hair and green eyes, quite a contrast to Cat’s dark hair and more athletic build. Sometimes I envied Cat. Her husband, Andrew, adored her and had to be the nicest guy this side of the Mason-Dixon Line. My only luck attracting men seemed to be men of the bad variety.