Dying for Dinner Rolls Read online

  A fine sweat formed on James’s nearly hairless head. His upper lip quivered. He grabbed the paper out of my hands and then took the trophy from Annie Mae. “Time to leave, ladies.”

  “Bert wasn’t with you, was he?” I stared him down.

  James broke eye contact with me and walked out of the room into the foyer by the front door. “I don’t have to talk to you and answer your stupid questions anymore, ladies. And I think our time here is done.”

  “Please, James, we really need your help,” I said.

  James kept walking. “I’m sure you do. But I don’t have to answer any more of your questions. I was trying to be nice, but now you are starting to irritate me.”

  “We really didn’t mean to. We just wanted some help in finding answers.” My eyes welled up.

  “James, you seem like a good guy. So I know that you want to cooperate.” Annie Mae trailed after James. “Please help us out here. My friend is sad. Can’t you see her tears? Our hearts are broken over Lucy. We have to get some answers.”

  “I’ve told you all I could. You need to move your fat behind out of the way.” James brushed his shoulder against Annie Mae.

  “Whoa, now. That was below the belt. I may be a little chubby, but not fat.” Annie Mae waved a hand up and down her body. “I think it all fits nicely together.”

  James rolled his eyes.

  “James, we really don’t want any trouble. We tried being nice to you, but apparently you don’t want to be nice to us. So now I have to be firmer with you.” Annie Mae moved closer to James. “Although I may look meek and mild, you need to know that I took a self-defense course. So I know some moves in case you push me again.”

  “Sorry about that; you were blocking my way,” James said.

  “Forgiven. Why don’t you show your remorse by giving us some answers? ’Cause someone is fibbing here, and it isn’t me,” Annie Mae argued.

  James turned his back to us. A light above him illuminated the top of his head like a halo. “He’s my friend. I can’t throw him under the bus.”

  “I get that. I’m a mom of four kids, and I always tell them to be loyal to their friends. But this is different, James. This has to do with murder.” I gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “And I know you don’t want to be an accomplice to the crime by lying.”

  “Murder?” James’s voice rose as he turned to face us. “You think he killed his own wife?”

  “Hell, yes,” Annie Mae said.

  James swallowed. “No. He wouldn’t do that.”

  I had to appeal to his sense of justice. “Whoever murdered Lucy may have also killed my father two months ago.”

  “Your family owns Sunshine Market. I remember reading about that. A burglary, right?” James looked at me.

  “Not really, but that’s not the point here.” I caught my breath. “We need to know where Bert was when Lucy was killed. You were his alibi, and now that appears to be falling apart.”

  “I promised. I can’t…” James looked like he wanted to cry, his face twisted, his eyes red.

  “Okay. We get that. So how about you tell us without telling us? Let’s use signals.” I thought of a ploy I used on my kids to make them tell the truth without actually saying anything against someone else. “How about you tap your foot if Bert was with you, and touch your chest if he wasn’t?”

  “I like these signals.” Annie Mae’s words tumbled out. “Even better, why doesn’t he blink twice if Bert was not with him and fold his arms if Bert was?”

  James cleared his throat.

  “What was that signal? Does that mean yes or no? Or maybe? We didn’t have a maybe signal.” Annie Mae arched an eyebrow.

  James coughed, holding a fist to his mouth. “I had a tickle in my throat.”

  “This has gotten way too confusing.” I sighed.

  James blinked a couple of times.

  “Are you flirting with me?” Annie Mae asked.

  “No. I was giving you a signal,” James explained.

  “What did winks mean? I lost track of our codes,” I said.

  James sneezed.

  Annie Mae shook a finger at him. “What does a sneeze mean?”

  “I have allergies.” He sniffed. “You two are driving me nuts.”

  “Fine. Let’s start over,” I said. “We’ll get out of here if you just tell us the truth. And you won’t even have to rat your friend out. Let’s make it simple. Head nod for yes, shake side to side for no, okay?”

  Annie Mae stood next to James.

  I continued, “Last week, was Bert with you in North Carolina on a fishing trip when Lucy was killed?”

  James shook his head from side to side.

  Chapter 7

  After leaving James and stopping at Krispy Kreme to fulfill Annie Mae’s craving for a hot donut and cold chocolate milk, we made our way to Bert and Lucy’s after navigating Saturday traffic.

  Soon we pulled in front of their house. Annie Mae got out of the car. “I’m feeling really excited and tingly about all this.”

  “Sounds like another sugar rush.” Slinging my purse over one shoulder, I saw Bert’s yellow Mini Cooper with the black racing stripes. “Looks like Bert’s here. Ready?”

  “Yes.” Annie Mae closed the door. “Let’s get the fraud.”

  “Or at least find out where he was when Lucy was killed. That would help us decide if he’s a suspect or not.” With Annie Mae at my heels, I marched to the front door and then rang the bell.

  Bert opened the door after the fourth ring. “What are you two doing here?”

  “Hi to you, too.” Annie Mae glowered at Bert.

  Bert’s wet hair clung to his round head. He wore a pressed, short-sleeved cotton shirt over his protruding belly and khaki shorts showing his white, hairy legs. A fruity scent assaulted me. It must have been Bert’s shampoo.

  Bert ran a hand through his hair. “What do you gals need?”

  “Nothing but the truth,” Annie Mae said.

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Bert stood in the doorway, neither letting us in nor coming onto the porch with us.

  “Let me try to explain. There are some things that are not adding up. As you know, my dad was killed, and now Lucy is also dead. I’m thinking that somehow their deaths may be related, although I’m not sure. That’s why we are here,” I told him.

  “Is that so?” Bert smoothed his hair. “Still, I’m not getting what you want from me.”

  “I’d just like to clear up a few things,” I said. “Ask you some questions, if that is okay with you?”

  “Humph.” Bert shifted from his right to his left foot.

  “Where were you when Lucy died?” I asked.

  “Uh, well, I don’t know if I will answer that.” Bert placed his hand on the doorknob.

  “Please? I need to know.” I tilted my head.

  “Listen, ladies, you interrupted something important.” Bert began to close the door.

  Annie Mae stuck her foot in the way. “Hold on. We know your alibi stinks like a big old dead fish. So please answer Cat. It’s really important.”

  Bert held the doorknob. He didn’t make eye contact with us.

  “Listen, Bert. You have to help us help you. Because right now I can call my friend at the police department and tell him that you were not where you said you were when Lucy died.” I gave him my practiced pleading look, which included a sweet smile and a slight sideways glance.

  Annie Mae wagged a finger at Bert. “Bert, I know we are all grieving here over Lucy. Because of that, we sometimes don’t act like ourselves.”

  “And?” Bert asked.

  “Emotions can run hot. I know I have been cranky and upset. But we all have to work through our grief. Some of us, like Cat and me, have too many unanswered questions around your wife’s death. And because we loved Lucy, we need to find out what happened to her. It will give us closure on her death. We need to do this for our own sake,” Annie Mae explained.

  “What happened to
her? Everyone knows that she committed suicide,” Bert said. “The police even said so.”

  “Do you believe she did that?” Annie Mae asked.

  “Whether I believe it or not, that doesn’t matter. It’s what happened.” Bert’s eyes watered up.

  “That’s what most people believe, but not us. We think someone may have killed her.” I placed a hand on Bert’s shoulder.

  “You do? Why?” Bert looked at me.

  “I’m not sure yet. That’s why we are talking to you. We need some answers.” I removed my hand from Bert’s shoulder.

  “Could you please help us out here? I’m getting a little shaky standing in this heat,” Annie Mae said to Bert.

  “She’s sugared up,” I added.

  “Huh?” Bert asked.

  “It’s a sugar and caffeine overload. I’m fit to be tied. I’m just saying that it’s not a good combination,” Annie Mae said. “I think I need some real food soon. But that’s not important. What I need right now is for you to please tell us the truth.”

  “About what?” Bert said.

  “Where were you the night Lucy died?” Annie Mae asked.

  “Not that I need to tell you, but I was fishing.”

  “Oh, no, you were not. I’m calling you out. We got it from a reliable source that you were not fishing. Bert, why aren’t you telling us the truth?” Annie Mae shook her head. “Please don’t insult our intelligence.”

  “It is the truth. I was at my friend James’s lake home in the North Carolina mountains.” Bert looked down at the ground.

  “That’s a tall tale for sure.” Annie Mae leaned into the door next to Bert. “You need to level with us. A good start would be to be honest.”

  I implored, “We’re just trying to get a straight answer from you. You don’t want your name tied to two murders, do you?”

  “Two murders?” Bert stammered.

  “Lucy’s and my dad’s.” My heart sank as I thought of them.

  “Whoa, now. You’re going off the deep end.” Bert waved his hand side to side. “I didn’t kill anyone. Let alone two people.”

  Annie Mae fanned herself with her hand. “It’s so hot out here. Why don’t you invite us in?”

  “Um, I…I…can’t,” Bert stuttered. “I’m a little occupied right now. Could you come back later?”

  Annie Mae folded her arms on her chest. “We’ll leave as soon as you answer us. And if you don’t, we’ll just camp out here all night. You may need to get us a fan and maybe a chair and some cold drinks.”

  I stared him down. “Please, Bert. We think Lucy was killed, and since we found out that your fishing alibi fell apart, you may be considered a suspect.”

  “Unless you can tell us where you were,” Annie Mae added.

  Bert wiped a bead of perspiration from the top of his lip.

  A voice behind Bert called out, “Honey, where’s the hair dryer?”

  Bert turned and shouted into the house, “Under the sink.”

  Annie Mae leaned into the screen door. “Do you have a new lady already? My goodness. Lucy just died!”

  “Hold on.” Bert disappeared into the house.

  “That son of a gun. Do you believe him? I bet he killed Lucy so that he could be with the hair-dryer slut.” Annie Mae jammed her fist in the air.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. We’re here to find the truth ourselves.” I glanced around the yard. Seeing Lucy’s copious colorful flowers put a smile on my face. She’d had such a green thumb.

  “No more Ms. Nice Guy. I’m going to make him come clean before we leave. With any means I have.” Annie Mae stomped her foot on the ground. “Adulterous jerk.”

  “Right.”

  A moment later, Bert returned. “Okay, I’ve had enough of whatever it is you two are up to. You need to leave.”

  “First, the truth of your whereabouts the night Lucy died. Then we’re gone,” Annie Mae said.

  “I don’t have to answer you.” He glanced over his shoulder.

  “Fine. Then you’ll have to talk to the police.” Annie Mae pulled out her phone. “I’m sure they’ll reopen the case once they find out your alibi was full of holes. Oh, and I am sure the Savannah Morning News would love to hear about what we’ve unraveled so far. Adulterous husband who lied about where he was the night his wife died. Very suspicious. It’ll get the tongues wagging. I think it’ll be front-page news. And I bet we can get television coverage, too.”

  “Jeez. You are a pain in the ass.” Bert narrowed his eyes. “I did not kill my wife.”

  “Then where were you? ’Cause you sure weren’t fishing.” Annie Mae stared at Bert.

  Bert remained silent for a minute.

  Annie Mae tapped her foot, her arms folded on her chest. “So? I played nice with you, and that didn’t seem to work. Now I have to go and get all tough and mean on you. Would you like me to ask the question slower so that you can understand?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was with a lady friend at a hotel. Out of state. And I have receipts to prove that.” Bert shook a finger at Annie Mae and me. “So back off.”

  I took a deep sigh. “You didn’t kill Lucy?”

  Bert shook his head. “No. I may be a cheat, but I’m not a killer.”

  “Well, goodie for you, taking your made-up moral high ground. Cheating okay, murder not.” Annie Mae twisted her mouth.

  I sucked in a breath. “Do you know anyone who would’ve wanted to kill her?”

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  “Anyone who didn’t like her or who she may have upset or got on their nerves?” Annie Mae asked.

  “Lucy was sweet. But you, on the other hand, irritate the hell out of me.” Bert ran a hand through his hair.

  “Funny, Bert.” Annie Mae grinned and pointed a finger in Bert’s face. “I admit that I may be exasperating. But I was never a cheater.”

  “Hey.” Bert teed his hands in a time-out sign.

  “Sorry.” Annie Mae looked down at her feet. “I was a little out of line. The sugar and all. I’m getting cranky, and you are pushing all of the wrong buttons with your coy BS.”

  Bert glared at Annie Mae.

  Annie Mae glared back.

  Soon they were in a staring contest, neither blinking nor turning away.

  This wasn’t getting anywhere. I needed to figure out what to do next to get a lead. “We’re going nowhere with this. But I wonder if you would let us borrow Lucy’s cell phone.”

  “I don’t think so.” Bert put his hands on his hips.

  Annie Mae broke her glare at Bert. “Please? With extra sugar on top?”

  “Haven’t you had enough sugar?” Bert half grinned.

  “So will you get it?” Annie Mae asked.

  Bert stood there eyeing Annie Mae and then me.

  Hoping to encourage him, I said, “It’ll only take you a second to get it. You see, it’s really important. Because…um…because…”

  Annie Mae nudged me in the arm. “You see, Lucy took some pictures of Cat’s kids and forgot to send them to her. And you know how much Cat loves her kids, and these are really special, one-of-a-kind pictures to her. So, we desperately need the phone.”

  I added, “We promise to get her phone back to you.”

  “Please?” Annie Mae said.

  “It’s really critical,” I added.

  “Fine already. I’ve wasted enough time with you two. I’ll do anything to get you off my back.” Bert raised an eyebrow. “Stay right here, and I’ll bring it to you. But then you must leave, immediately.”

  A minute or so later, Bert opened the door and shoved the cell phone at Annie Mae. “When you return it, put it under that flower pot.”

  As we drove away, Annie Mae said, “I think that went well. Where to next?”

  “How about you scroll through Lucy’s call log and her texts? Look for anything that stands out.”

  While I drove, Annie Mae looked through Lucy’s phone. “So far, nothing that says ‘I will kill you’ or anyth
ing like that.”

  “That’d be too easy, huh?”

  “Besides to her husband and us, there were quite a few calls to the humane society and that antique store. Plus a few names I don’t recognize. They could be her Bible study people.”

  “Since we’re close, why don’t we visit the grocery store next?” I suggested. “Maybe they can tell us if they noticed anything off about Lucy.”

  “This time you play bad cop, and I’ll be good cop,” Annie Mae said.

  “How about we both just ask questions nicely?” I smiled.

  “Bert’s a jerk. He deserved my sugar-induced cranky attitude.”

  “Let’s hope that we didn’t anger him too much.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m just saying that if he is still a suspect, that means he is capable of violence.”

  “Shoot. Maybe I should have been nicer.”

  “Too late.” My stomach twisted.

  Chapter 8

  Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at the Red and White grocery store in Habersham Village.

  A girl around eighteen years old stood at one of the three registers. Her red name badge read “Cynthia.” The white linoleum floors had yellowed in spots that looked like permanent coffee stains. The place smelled of bleach and fresh-baked bread. Glancing around at the metal shelving and fluorescent lights, I thought it looked as though the store hadn’t changed much in the thirty years since it’d opened.

  “Good morning, Cynthia. My name is Catherine Thomson. This is Annie Mae Maple. We were wondering if your manager would have a few moments to talk to us.”

  “Are you Timmy and Teddy’s mom?” Cynthia blushed.

  “You know my sons?”

  “Um, like, yeah, every girl knows them.” She flipped her blond hair over her shoulder. “They’re hot.”

  “Did you hear that? Your boys are hot.” Annie Mae tapped me on the arm.

  It unnerved me to hear my boys connected to that sexual term. “Can we talk to your manager, please?”

  “Miss Susie Wells?”

  “If that is your manager, then yes.”

  “Like, she left a while ago. I don’t know if she’s back yet.” Cynthia pressed a button on a speaker next to the register and spoke into it. “Miss Susie, you’re wanted at register one.”